Not waiting for her, Alex took Benji back into his mouth, sucking and licking away while the younger man slammed into his face with his hips in a desperate attempt to explode into Alex. Secure in her knowledge of her husband she moved behind him, letting Benji see what she was doing. She pushed Alex's head further down to once again let him take the younger man's entire shaft. When she did this, Benji had a view of her enormous dong edging its way to Alex's ass, the tip shiny with his saliva. "Grab his cock, Benjamina," she ordered as she began forcing the dong into Alex's adept ass.
He remembered the pleasure he had from her finger up his ass and felt precum ooze over his fingers as she buttfucked Alex up his boy pussy. Earlier in the month she had managed to fist him while he was in the leather swing in the corner of the room. She had attached wireless nipple clamp vibrators and an electric stimulator to his balls until he cried out and came repeatedly from the pain he sought.
Determinedly Alex licked away at Benji while he felt ready to explode with the fullness of the huge dong that cornholed him. With each thrust the vibrator pushed against her G-spot and clit, drawing her closer to her release and encouraging her to fuck him faster. Benji was distracted by the sound of the strap-on dong's silicon scrotum pounding Alex's ass as his precum continued to soak the younger man's fingers while he continued to stroke his boss. Benji felt his own pressure building and was aware his own precum was filling Alex's mouth and his jock juice would soon follow. Being sucked, stroking Alex's shaft and watching him be butt pounded by his wife was becoming a sensory overload. Benji cried out and blew a colossal flood of his steamy load that Alex swallowed with practiced ease.
Without hesitation, Benji increased his speed and pressure as he stroked Alex closer to his own resolution. Like one explosion setting off another, Melissa felt herself close to a climax and she slammed even harder and faster against her husband, hammering the Pixilator deeper into her clit as she drove the dong deeper into Alex. Before her eyes filled with the familiar stars of orgasm, she dug her fingernails into her husband's balls and squeezed them hard enough he cried out and shot his load into Benji's face. The younger man tried to catch the pearly white thick ropes of cum with this tongue, but most of it ended up on his wig and face. Melissa convulsed with the power of her own pleasure and then leaned against the back of her husband letting her full weight press against him.
After a moment she laughed as all three began to flow into the afterglow of their sexual success. She pulled her strap-on dong from his ass with a wet sound and sat on the edge of the table to remove the Pixilator from the harness and turned it off. She looked at her sissy slut boys who where holding each other and Benji's head rested on the larger man's shoulder. Stirring, Alex began to kiss Benji with sticky lips. Then he leaned back and stated to use his finger to gather his jism off Benji to offer it to his lover to lick. When Melissa saw he had finished, she instructed Benji to suck her husband's cock clean and for Alex to clean up after himself.
The younger man followed Alex who moved closer to Melissa and put his head into her lap and start to suck her strap-on clean, savoring the sour taste of his own ass. Benji positioned himself in front of Alex's crotch and grinned at Melissa so hard his eyes disappeared. "I didn't know when I said 'trick or treat' to Mr. P I'd get both. Thank you, my goddess." Then he applied himself to sucking away the rest of the sploog from Alex's dick. Melissa ran her sharp fingers through her husband's hair. "You chose well." He replied with a smile.
***
If you enjoyed this read, check out another hot tale from Skye:
Fifty Shades Pinker: The Ultimate Sissy
When Sheila discovers her infertile and "dick-less" husband will never give her the children she wants, she and her husband's best friend conspire to use BDSM methods of humiliation to turn him into the true sissy boy he was meant to be. Sheila then demonstrates for the new sissy boy how a real woman makes love with a real man, as he is forced to watch them.
(Warning: This adults only story is so hot, your e-reader might just melt. It features Sissy Boy Sex, Forced Feminization, Sissification, Crossdressing, Cuckolding, BDSM Humiliation, CBT, penetrative sex, and more!)
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The Prince's Defiant Slave 1: The Choice
Cherry Dare
Copyright 2013 Cherry Dare
Virgin farm boy Garin is shocked when the notorious Prince Alar rides into his village and demands that the young men strip for his inspection... so he can select one as his new slave.
When Prince Alar seems intrigued by Garin's brother, Garin volunteers to be taken instead. While the entire village watches, the prince orders him down on his knees, undoes his breeches... and takes him then and there!
At the palace, Garin is instructed in the mingling of pain and pleasure by being publicly whipped while a slave sucks him off, and onlookers bet on whether or not he will come. But not even that prepares Garin for the dangerous secrets and decadent sex he will encounter as the arrogant prince's own slave.
***
"The prince is coming!"
I looked up from the wheat field with a start, a fistful of weeds falling from my hand. All around me, farmers were similarly frozen in shock. My village, Madriguera, was a small and humble one. None of us had ever expected to be visited by royalty.
"The prince is coming!" The herald shouted his announcement from his seat astride a fine bay horse. "Prepare for the coming of Prince Alar!"
Now my shock was replaced by fear. The notorious Prince Alar! We had all heard rumors about the young crown prince: rumors of decadence and cruelty, but also rumors of extraordinary beauty and matchless prowess in swordsmanship.
It was whispered that Prince Alar had murdered his elder brother to ensure his own inheritance. He was said to force men to duel to the death for his amusement. Men and women both supposedly died of pining when he bedded and then abandoned them. His mother was said to have been a fallen angel, a warrior in Lucifer's army, who had plummeted to Earth and been claimed by the king. The story had it that Prince Alar kept a harem of slaves at the palace-- and sometimes rode out to seek for new ones from among the populace.
But surely all those disturbing tales were mere rumors, not to be believed...
"What are you waiting for, you lazy peasants?" the herald exclaimed. "Are you so ignorant that you do not know what the prince expects of you?"
The baffled, frightened silence that descended answered the herald's question.
"I see that you truly are that ignorant," said the herald with a sneer. "Let me explain. Prince Alar seeks amongst the young men for a new slave. But I doubt that he will find anyone worthy of his attention here."
My younger brother Maju whispered to me, "Garin, he can't be serious. One of us-- a slave to a prince? It's absurd!"
"Hush!" I whispered back.
But I was too late. The herald's head whipped round, and he stared straight at Maju. "Did I hear you call the prince absurd? You need a lesson in manners, peasant."
Maju shrank back against me as the herald rode slowly toward us, whip held high.
Though Maju was only a year younger than me, at eighteen he was still less mature than many village boys of sixteen. I attribute it the death of our parents when he was nine; we were swept into our uncle's household, where our childless aunt cosseted and babied him.
But he was still my brother, and I could allow no one-- not even a royal herald-- to harm him.
"Don't you dare threaten my brother!" I shouted, clenching my fists.
"I'll whip you next, you great ox," snapped the herald to me. To Maju, he said, "Take your punishment, boy."
I pushed Maju aside, shielding him with my own body.
The herald's whip cracked against my back and shoulders, slashing a line of fire against my skin. I clenched my jaw to suppress a cry of pain, but the air hissed out between my teeth.
"What have we here? A farm boy defying a royal herald?"
&n
bsp; The voice was soft yet commanding, threatening but with sensual overtones, as if it conveyed some dark sexual promise. I remembered how, when I was a little boy who had accompanied my parents to the nearby town, my fingers had accidentally brushed against a man's black velvet cloak.
I looked up...
...into the face of Prince Alar himself.
I had never seen him before, but it could be no one else. He was clad in black from head to toe, from embroidered doublet to silk gloves to polished riding boots. A gold-hilted sword hung at his belt. The prince wore the infamous crown that he was said to have designed himself, a cruel-looking golden circlet tipped with sharp and twisted thorns.
But even without the crown, I would have known him. No one else in Navarra could have hair so impossibly black that it seemed to drink down the sunlight, nor skin as white as falling snow. His eyes were black as his hair, so dark that I could not discern the pupils from the irises. His features were delicate yet strong, like the blade of an oft-sharpened knife.
I stumbled a step backward.
"Shall I execute the peasant?" offered the herald.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Maju open his mouth. I clapped my hand over it. My heart thudded in my chest.
Watching this interplay, the corners of Prince Alar's sensual lips curved in cruel amusement. "I think not. Let us proceed." His coal-black gaze seemed to rest on me and only me as he called out, "All men between the ages of eighteen and twenty-five, strip naked and line up for my inspection!"
Nobody moved. If my reactions were the same as theirs, the entire village was too shocked to so much as blink.
"The rest of you may go and hide your filthy selves from my sight," added the prince contemptuously.
"You heard his highness," bellowed the herald. "Strip!"
The women and older men fled, hauling the children and younger teenagers with them. I shoved Maju in their direction.
"But..." he began.
"The herald said you have to be eighteen," I said loudly. "You're only seventeen. Go!"
The prince held up his hand. "I believe I shall look at seventeen-year-olds as well, today. Stay, boy."
I gritted my teeth in frustration. There was no way for the prince to know Maju's true age, but he must have perceived that I had lied.
All around me, young men were stripping naked under the hot sun. I reassured myself that there was no chance that an elegant aristocrat-- the crown prince of Navarra! – would want a simple farm boy like Maju or myself.
I pulled off my shirt, the rough cloth scraping painfully against the bloody lash on my back. Suppressing a wince, I stripped off my breeches and kicked off my boots. I then stood nude. None of us farmers wore underclothing such as I was told the aristocrats and merchants preferred.
The prince eyed the line of naked men, a lordly sneer touching his full lips. While what I could see of his body was whipcord-lean, we farmers were more heavily muscled. Our skin was tanned dark from working in the sun, while his milk-white complexion looked as if it had never seen daylight.
The prince would not sully himself with crude peasants such as ourselves, I was sure. But instead of the relief that certainty should have brought me, I felt a strange regret. Those graceful, long-fingered hands would never touch my body. Never wrap themselves around my cock...
I shook my head. Why was I thinking such things? Though I was still a virgin, soon I would have my marriage arranged with some sturdy farm girl. We would learn the ways of love together, and she would give me children. It was the way of life in my village, fit for a village boy like myself.
Even in my sweaty, secret dreams, I had never imagined lying with a man.
Well. Almost never.
It was forbidden for men to lie with men, or women with women. At least, our priest forbade it, calling it the sin of Lucifer. But I had heard that in the larger towns, in the cities, and especially in the palace, other laws held sway.
The prince paced along the line of naked men, his silk cloak fluttering behind him like the black wings of a fallen angel. "Too dark... Too pale... Too weedy... Neck thick as a bull..."
To my horror, he stopped in front of Maju. My little brother was trembling with fear.
"I have heard that rustic peasants such as yourselves can rut like bulls," came the prince's black velvet voice. "Tell me, is it true?"
He pointed a bejeweled finger straight at me. "You. The defiant one. What is your name?"
"Garin," I replied.
"Garin, your highness," snapped the herald.
"Garin," Prince Alar repeated.
He drew out my name slowly, as if caressing it. Hearing it in his husky tones made a wave of heat wash over my body.
"Is it true, Garin?" the prince asked.
I had no idea how to respond. "I don't know. Your highness."
The prince looked me up and down, paying special attention to my cock. It began to stiffen in jerks and starts under his cool gaze.
I tried to order my rebellious staff to soften, but it got even harder. Shame brought another rush of heated blood throughout my body.
Seeing the prince watch my skin redden, and the cruel smile that brought to his lips, brought my cock to full attention. It pressed against my belly, hard as steel and aching for release.
I was very conscious that I was naked and the prince was fully clothed, all the way down to the black silk gloves covering his elegant hands like a second skin.
"In some inspections, I have had the peasants rut with each other, while I watched," mused the prince. "Perhaps I could have you penetrate one of the others, since the prick of every other man here has shriveled like a salted slug."
I couldn't help glancing around. Prince Alar was right. Everyone else looked ready to piss themselves from fright, and their cocks were as small as they could possibly be, as if they were trying to hide. The thought of being forced to have sex with any of them was horrifying. I gritted my teeth, vowing to myself that I would die first.
"Or I could try this boy," the prince went on, eyeing Maju. "He looks like he has a soft... wet... hot mouth."
"No!" I burst out.
An elegant eyebrow arched. "You defy me, the crown prince of Navarra? Do you wish me to kill you both?"
"No!" I repeated. "I mean... your highness... please! Take me instead."
Prince Alar tilted his head, once again inspecting my naked body. A pink tongue-tip flicked out and traced along his lips, leaving a sheen of moisture like dew on a ripe plum.
I could not help picturing the prince with his breeches unlaced, thrusting his swollen cock into a man's open, waiting mouth. To my intense humiliation, my belly warmed and a gleaming bead of liquid welled up at the tip of my staff.
The prince pulled the glove off his left hand. His fingers were white as summer clouds, his nails perfect, pearly ovals.
It struck me then that his sword was belted on the left. In my village, left-handedness was said to be the sign of Lucifer. Any child who displayed it was slapped across the knuckles until they learned to favor their right hand.
With that left hand of his, he touched the bead of liquid, then rubbed it around the head of my cock. His fingertip was cool and smooth. A jolt of excitement drove through my entire body, and a groan escaped my lips.
"I will take you," whispered the prince, his voice low and thick. "Right here. Right now."
His riding breeches of black linen were tented at the groin. I swallowed, imagining what was underneath that fine cloth.
"Kneel," ordered the prince.
I slid to my knees, right there on the grass beside the wheat field we'd been harvesting. I could smell the green scent of the crushed grass, and a faint odor of leather and spices. My mouth was level with the prince's groin.
All the young men of Madriguera were still standing there. The herald, too, stood by Prince Alar, sneering. They were all going to watch me suck the prince's cock.
I had never felt so humiliated and exposed in my entire life. And yet so
me shameful part of me was excited, too. I was going to suck the prince's cock! The most intimate, private organ of the notorious crown prince was going to be in my mouth. I was powerless to refuse, and yet I felt a strange sense of power.
Power... and arousal.
Prince Alar undid the lacings on his breeches.
I was wrong about what aristocrats wore beneath their clothes. The prince wore nothing but his own fine skin.
His cock rose up unhindered, big and throbbing. The tautly muscled flesh of his inner thighs was as pale as that of his face and ungloved hand, but his staff was dark with blood, rising from its nest of black hair. It looked hard as the sword that hung at his belt.
His balls were large and heavy-looking. I wanted to weigh them in my hand. I wanted to stroke his curling hair and see if it was as soft as it looked. But I didn't know if I was allowed to touch.
The prince's natural scent rose up, clean yet musky and masculine. I had thought my own cock was as engorged as it could possibly get, but more blood rushed into it as I brought my face closer to the prince's organ. I wondered if it was possible to come without being touched at all. I felt as if I was about to.
"Go on," said the prince. "You know what to do."
I glanced upward, startled out of my reverie. Our eyes met, and the prince laughed a dark, husky chuckle. "Or do you? Is it possible that you a virgin?"
I didn't have to reply. He read the truth in my eyes and in the hot blush that I couldn't control.
"A virgin!" Prince Alar exclaimed. "I am surprised. I thought you peasants rutted as naturally as breathing."
He reached down carelessly and rumpled my hair. My breath stopped even at that idle touch of his fingers.
"Well, let me tell you how to please a man," the prince said. "It's quite simple. You lick, you suck, and you swallow. You may also caress with your hands. If you bite, I'll have you executed. Clear?"
Bound and Bent: Ten Tales of Serving Him Page 10