He looked defiantly around all the faces in the room.“I had a wank.” He said.
“Masturbation!” Helen said triumphantly. “Didn’t I tell you so?” He felt himself wilt with the embarrassment. They had been leading him on all along.
“Well now, why didn’t you say so.” asked his Aunt.
“I was ashamed” he replied, his cheeks burning red.
“Ashamed?” She asked “Oh I see. Well, how do you propose to put it right?”
“I’ll wash it.” He said quietly. He was desperate for the torment to be over.
“I’m certain you will.” Aunt Maggie said with an admonishing tone.
“I’m curious.” One of the others said suddenly.
“Yes Lucinda, what are you curious about?” Aunt Maggie asked.
“Well I’d like to know exactly how the semen got on the sheet.”
“Well, he masturbated.” Helen said. The word sounded cold and harsh to his ears.
“Yes I know.” Said Lucinda “But I’d like to know how.” He groaned with embarrassment.
“What I mean is,” Continued Lucinda “I’d like to see how!”
“Well now that’s a good idea.” Said Aunt Maggie. A look of disbelief spread across his face as all the women in the room raised their voices in approval.
“Yes,” agreed Helen. “A demonstration! Splendid!”
He started to object and turned to leave the room, his face glowing scarlet now, the actions of these middle aged women incomprehensible to him. But the woman in the low cut dress stood up and blocked the doorway.
“I think” said Aunt Maggie “It’s the least you owe these ladies after giving them the run around for so long.”
She took him by the arm and led him to the fireplace, turning him around to face the group of seated women. Helen dropped the offending sheet to the floor and - standing at his side -began to loosen his belt. Aunt Maggie still held tightly to his arm only letting go briefly to pull his T-shirt up over his head. As he tried to resist he felt the zip on his trousers go and they dropped around his ankles. He shook off the T-shirt and attempted to retrieve his trousers but Aunt Maggie pulled his hands away and held his wrists tightly together. He could have broken her grip, could have fought free but somehow he stopped just short. Helen was now tugging down his underpants and then suddenly he was exposed stood there in all his glory before the audience of women. For a moment he attempted to struggle free again but his hands were held firmly now behind his back by both Helen and his Aunt.
Lucinda dragged her armchair forward a few inches. “I’ve only got my reading glasses with me!” she explained. “I want to get a good look!” A round of raucous laughter filled the room.
His face burning red he looked around the eager faces. Lucinda was the oldest. Perhaps fifty, a small woman, she had a dark bob of hair. Next to her in the other armchair was the woman in the low cut dress, now seated again. He remembered her name was Colleen. She was perhaps the youngest of the group, a red head with a particularly ample bosom, always keen to show as much cleavage as possible. She wore a short skirt that when she was seated left little to the imagination. On the sofa was a woman he did not know, straight blonde hair worn long over her shoulders, a white t-shirt covered small breasts, her nipples visibly erect beneath the fabric he noticed. Beside her was an empty space where Helen had been sat and then Aunt Maggie’s next door neighbour Kim in check skirt and a black blouse. With no exception their eyes were fixed on his manhood. He swallowed hard and began to plead with his Aunt to let him go.
“When you’ve done what we’ve asked.” She said. “Then you may leave the room.”
Helen released a wrist and levered his arm forward pushing his hand towards his cock. Instinctively he took hold of himself and stood there motionless his eyes searching the faces of the women for a sympathetic face. There was none. Helen wrapped her fingers around his hand and began to force it backward and forward as his flaccid cock lay in its grip.
“He needs some encouragement.” She said, tightening her grip around his fingers. Despite all his resentment and humiliation he felt his cock begin to grow in his hand.
Various gasps and sighs accompanied the transformation of his manhood from its flaccid state to a full blown erection. Helen stood beside him holding one hand in a tight grip behind his back, the other working together with his at long tantalising strokes along the shaft of his cock. She pressed her body against him and he could feel her breast pressing against his side, her groin pressed against his hip moving almost indiscernibly. He closed his eyes and felt his pulse and breath quickening.
“Ooh, look at it now!” He heard one of them say.
“It’s quite admirable don’t you think ladies?” Aunt Maggie asked. Murmurs of agreement went around the room.
Helen was now squeezing his hand quite tightly and her fingers had slipped between his, wrapping themselves around his shaft as she took to dictating the pace of the strokes. He could feel his loins tightening and his balls rise and tingle as his chest rose and fell with deep heavy breaths. He looked down at himself and saw his stiff swollen cock, the head engorged and protruding from between his and Helen’s entwined fingers. A bead of pre-cum squeezed from it’s tip.
“Oh, he’s getting close now!” Helen gasped excitedly. His body tensed with anticipation. Suddenly she pushed away his hand and released his cock. He stood trembling his pulsing cock pointing out before him, the bead of pre-cum now hanging in a long string swaying from it’s tip.
“Someone else should have a go, I think.” Helen announced. “Patricia?”
The blonde in the white T-shirt leapt to her feet and went to his side. Giggling nervously she tentatively took his cock in her hot sweating hands and, with whoops of encouragement from the watching audience began to stroke her manicured fingers along his shaft. The change was almost more than he could bare. He shuddered and tried to draw back but then relaxed and felt himself rising to the point of no return. Patricia, sensing this worked busily, closing her hand around his shaft and working the length of his cock with quick sharp strokes altogether different to the long tight strokes of Helen.
“How long will it take?” Colleen asked impatiantly.
Helen knelt down in front of him and took a long and hard close up look at his cock. For a moment he thought she was going to take him in her mouth. All his feelings of guilt and shame could not belie his desperation for her to do so. But she didn’t. After a moment she stood and looking him directly in the eye, she smiled knowingly.
“He’s almost there.” She announced without taking her eyes off of his. “Perhaps, Colleen, he needs a bit of encouragement.” She kept her stare fixed on him as she spoke. “Perhaps you could show him those lovely big boobs of yours?”
“Yes,” Aunt Maggie cut in. “We could be here all day waiting for him to finish. You have the biggest pair here Colleen. I’m sure a young man like David likes big boobs”.
He swallowed hard. He was now fighting this humiliation with all his strength. He was determined not to let these women shame him any further. Patricia, now feeling the pace of her own brisk working of his cock, finally let go and gasped with exhaustion.
“Bloody hell!” she exclaimed “I’ve got cramp!” All the women burst in to a fit of laughter as a deep inhalation of breath saved him from reaching the moment of release, such was the suddenness of Patricia releasing him.
Now though, he saw Colleen rise from her chair. She tossed the long red locks of her hair over her shoulders and stepped up before him. She untied the bow at her waist which held the low cut top in place and it fell open to reveal her swelling breast held in a fine lace bra that seemed unequal to the job of restraining her bosom. She took hold of the lace fringes of the cups and wrenched her bra down until her enormous globes spilled free. He averted his eyes but only located Kim the next door neighbour, now slumped back on the sofa, her skirt hauled up to her waist and her hand buried inside her knickers, fingers feverishly working away between he
r legs, her knees tightly pressed together, her eyes fixed on him.
Again Helen took hold of his cock in a tight grip and whispered in his ear. “Are you ready now?”
Colleen dropped to her knees before him and scooped up her breasts in her hands, holding them out in front of her, the soft pink flesh spilling between her manicured fingers. Helen began to work his swollen length, her grip tight and forceful. He looked at her, at her eager, determined expression, her tongue visible, curled between her reddened lips touching the top lip in a reflex of concentration, her eyes fixed on his. Sweat broke out across his forehead. He knew now he would not be able to resist for long. He felt it in his balls, rising, irresistible. He looked down at his cock, swollen and purple almost, more erect than he had ever seen it, Helen’s fist, looking white against his angry flesh, callously, urgently, thrusting along his shaft. Then below it Colleens breasts, rosy areola tipped by hard pink nipples, the white flesh wobbling enticingly as she squeezed them together. She looked up at him, eyes wide, a broad lusty grin across her face.
Suddenly his body tensed, his head began to swim and his cock exploded in Helen’s hand, jets of cum being driven from deep within his balls, spraying it in violent spasms from the eye of his cock. He heard the spatter of his come as it rained down on the redhead’s chest and the gasps and squeals of delight of the voyeurs who watched his humiliation.
Exhausted he fell to his knees watching almost in a daze as Colleen stood and, juggling her breasts, laughed as she teased the cum into a pool that nestled in her cleavage.
The women all crowded around her to look.
Helen tossed the stained sheet over him and with a tone of disgust told him to make himself decent.
When the women had poured drinks and returned to their seats Aunt Maggie turned to face him.
“Now then,” she said. “I expect that we’ll have to make sure that in future you don’t go about staining sheets and causing me all sorts of extra housework.”
She took a long sip of wine before continuing.“I think in future you should attend all my coffee mornings and that way we can make sure that that you don’t go spilling that stuff just any where”. A round of agreement rose from the attendees.
“You can’t…..I mean I won’t, I won’t do it!” He insisted.
“Oh, I think you will” Auntie said assuredly. “You see I happen to know you are rather soft on Melissa Carter, am I correct?”
He struggled to comprehend. “Ah, no!..... I mean yes but….”
“Well, what if Melissa was to find out? I mean I assume that the stain on the sheet was the result of some fanciful desires directed at Melissa?” He hung his head in shame. How could she even know?
“Patricia!” Aunt Maggie summoned the blonde with the wag of a finger. Patricia rose nervously and stood beside his Aunt looking down at him.
“I know you’ve already met, she did after all give your manhood some fairly brisk attention” Aunt Maggie said with a chuckle.“This is Patricia,..... Patricia Carter, Melissa’s mother! I’m sure if you want to develop a successful relationship with Melissa that you won’t want to be upsetting her mother now, will you?”
The Trading of Nera
Heranthium was a village of little repute lost amongst the hills to the east of Rome. Its villagers farmers and poor. In the hot sun its townsfolk lived a peaceful life tending their crops eking out a meagre living, aspiring to very little.
Nera was a citizen of Heranthium, a meek and good natured woman, shy of the ways of the world but comfortable within her domain, still without man but aware that suitors would soon be vying for her attentions. She harboured dreams of marrying a gentle man whom she could love and admire, who would cherish her and keep her. A man who would be kind to her and who would, when that thing that happened between betrothed ones, a thing that made the older women in the village lower their voices and giggle excitedly, when that happened she would be good and pleasing and the god’s would reward her with a child.
Nera was thinking about these things as she returned from fetching water from the river when she stopped without knowing why. Her eyes scanned the gently rolling horizon of lush green hills and blue cloudless sky. Slowly she became aware of a rumbling thunder that made the ground tremor. She stood hesitantly, uncertain of the fear that seemed to grip her -uncomprehending of the sound that rushed towards her. Suddenly the horizon was broken by the emerging dark shapes of riders, growing as if from the ground itself, as they came over the crest of a nearby hill. Too late she realised the danger and dropped the water carrier as she attempted to flee. Before Nera could run far the riders were upon her and circling their powerful mounts about her. A horse came up beside her and a large strong arm grasped her around the waist as a chorus of raucous laughter greeted her attempted escape. She was swept into the lap of a brutish, ugly man. His stench overpowered her almost immediately. He spoke in a language she did not understand and laughed with a deep guttural rasp. She struggled to free herself but his grip was too strong and it only made him laugh more. He held her with one arm wrapped around her waist while his other hand grasped the folds of her toga and ripped open the front exposing her breasts. A cry of merciless approval went up from the throng of riders and her captor lifted her as high as he could to display her as he pivoted his horse to enable all to see. Nera screamed as the brute grasped a breast with a rough hand and squeezed her roughly as he laughed triumphantly. Then he spun her around and threw her across his saddle pulling the hem of her skirt high to expose her naked bottom. His hand slapped hard across the bare flesh making her squeal and he forced his hand between her legs and cupped her pubic mound. Great laughter rose from the other riders and two rode close by slapping her bare flesh as they passed.
Finally a wagon pulled up beside them and Nera was swung up again by the brute, one hand under her breasts the other between her legs and she was tossed unceremoniously into the back of the wagon. She found herself amongst several girls sitting dejectedly in the wagon hold, two of whom she recognised as girls from her village. They were all tied and the clothing of each ripped and dishevelled to some degree. The wagon driver hopped into the back of the wagon and tied her hands behind her back with a length of rope. He did nothing to re-arrange her clothing to protect her modesty. And so Nera spent the next three days in discomfort riding in the wagon, her breasts exposed for any passer buy to see, while all the girls sat in dejected unhappiness, fearful as to what the future held for them. The talk was of being sold into slavery and other fearsome outcomes. No-one seemed to think that rescue was a likely outcome.
Their questions were to be answered on the fourth day as the wagon rolled into a town. The riders were met by a man in a robe who climbed up into the wagon and studied the girls. Nera hung her head knowing that she could do nothing to hide her exposed breasts. The man took her under the chin and raised her face so that he could study her. He reached down and held a breast in his hand as if weighing it. He grunted then moved on to the next girl. Finally satisfied, having checked each girl in the same way, he climbed down from the wagon and handed over a sack of money to the brutes. The wagon driver climbed into the hold and pushed each of the girls down into the street. A crowd had started to gather and Nera was choked with shame as she desperately struggled to get to her feet, her legs akimbo, the skirt having risen above her hips and her breasts in plain view of all. A man grasped her roughly under her arm and lifted her to her feet. The girls were put into line and forced to walk briskly through the town, a whip was used to encourage any shirkers and although Nera had the relief of knowing that her skirts had now fallen to a decent length she was still shamed by the fall and sway of her uncovered breasts as she jogged to try and keep up. A group of soldiers on a street corner pointed at her and laughed while some woman shouted scornful remarks as if she was some common whore. Tears welled up in her eyes and her cheeks flushed with the shame of it.
They were finally brought to a halt behind a large odd looking building which had steps r
ising to a high door guarded by a eunuch. The man who had paid for the girls now sorted them into pairs and stationed them at the foot of the steps. To the horror of all the girls, he and an assistant then went along the row and stripped each girl of her clothing. Hands still tied, Nera stood shaking, knees pressed together in an attempt to preserve any dignity she felt she had left but there was nothing she could do to ease her humiliation. She could hear the low murmur of voices from somewhere in town but was thankful that here at least, behind the odd building, they were out of sight of prying eyes. Finally the man seemed satisfied and returning to the head of the line swung a crop across the bare buttocks of the girl beside Nera and motioned for them both to mount the stairs. The girl, startled by the stinging crop, leaped up the first few steps but Nera was frozen to the spot. The robed man raised the crop again but grabbed her by the hair instead and forced her to mount the steps as he followed behind pushing her head, her hair held tightly in his grip, forcing both girls up towards the eunuch. As they reached the top the eunuch stood aside and the man pushed both girls through a curtained doorway. Nera stood in disbelief. They were on a platform in an open fronted building. Before them stood a crowd of people - staring up at their naked forms. The man pushed the girls out of the doorway towards a wooden rail that ran along the length of the platform. There another assistant, a grubby, crooked old hag, bedecked in jangling gold bracelets beckoned them towards her as she held out a length of rope. She tied Nera and the other girl to the rail. Nera was certain her heart had stopped beating. They were now no more than three feet from the front of the crowd and the elevated position of the platform meant there was no hiding from the stares of all in the crowd. She had never been naked before anyone before in her life and now she stood before a crowd of ogling men and women. She was shocked too at the lack of compassion shown by the women. They seemed as eager as the men to view her body and several were gesticulating to the man in the robe in the same way as the men.
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