Necktie Party, Chapter 4

Chapter 4

As I regained consciousness that Sunday morning, several emotions swept over me simultaneously. I had turned from my side to my back upon awakening, and that caused lightning strikes of pain to shoot through my recently-whipped ass. I immediately turned back to my side, but the pain was slow to subside. At almost the same time, I became conscious of an aching in my balls, probably due to the strength of my long-denied orgasm just a few hours before. I reached between my legs and pulled my sac forward so that it would feel less pressure, and that helped somewhat. As I did that adjustment, I felt a very large wet spot in front of my crotch, and was sure that I had orgasmed recently.

I knew the source of that orgasm almost immediately. It was the very intense dream that I'd had just before I awoke. Every detail of the dream was still vivid to me, and as I recalled it, my aching cock tried to become erect once more.

In my dream, the four of us had gone for a walk in the woods. I was naked, while Jen, Melissa, and Tom were fully clothed. I knew that I was being taken to the place of my execution, and that no force was being used to make me go there. In fact, I had a feeling of anticipation, and was looking forward to it.

We walked for quite a ways into the woods, finally coming upon a clearing. In the center of the clearing was a single tree. The first limb on it was about 10' off the ground, and it was growing perfectly parallel with the ground. I walked to a spot directly beneath the limb, put my hands behind my back, and stood there waiting. It was not until that moment that I realized that my penis was erect, and had in fact been so during the entire walk. I recall thinking that it had been like a divining rod, leading me to the place we all wanted to be. In my dream, the thing was easily a foot long, and I remember feeling very proud of its size.

Tom reached into a bag he'd been carrying all along, even though I hadn't noticed it until then. He handed Jen a short length of cord, and as expected, she used it to bind my wrists behind my back. He then pulled a long rope out of the bag, and I could see that it had a perfectly-tied hangman's noose in one end. Jen threw the rope over the tree limb, and then placed the noose over my head and around my throat. She tightened the noose expertly, placing the knot by my left ear.

I had expected that my ankles would next be bound together, but was surprised to see that Tom was standing there holding a straight tree limb that was about 6' long. Jen took the limb from him and knelt at my feet, and was joined by Melissa. They each took ahold of one of my ankles and pulled them to the sides as far as they could. I can recall to this day, several months later, the painful stretching that I felt in my crotch. It seemed as if my skin would soon split from the tension in it.

Tom handed each of the women another short length of cord, and they used them to bind my ankles to the limb, securing me in that position.

Jen then stood up in front of me. She hugged me fiercely, and then kissed me very passionately. Finally she said, "Goodbye, sweetie. It's time for you to pay for all those times you didn't make me cum." She then walked around behind me, and I immediately felt the rope begin to tighten. She continued to stretch me until only the tips of my toes were supporting my weight. At that point, she must have tied off the rope, because she was again standing in front of me, and all three of them were now also nude.

Tom then reached into the bag once again, this time bringing out three whips like the one that had been used on he and I the night before, only much larger. He gave one to Jen, and one to Melissa, keeping one for himself. Tom then walked around behind me, while the women stood to each side.

At Jen's signal, the whipping began, and it went on and on for what seemed like an eternity. I knew that my whole body was being whipped, from my toes to my neck, but most of the strokes were falling on my cock and balls. Tom's whip would come up between my legs and strike my balls, and my wife and her lover would concentrate their strokes on the swollen shaft of my penis. Although it would have been impossible for me to see my genitals being whipped, given the noose that was stretching my neck to the sky, I somehow was also standing in front of myself, watching what was being done to my body. I saw the whips being raised high, then brought crashing down on my shaft. I saw the thongs of Tom's whip come flashing up between my legs, and both saw and felt them make contact with my precious eggs.

As in most dreams, there was no way for me to gauge the time that passed, but it seemed like hours. As I stood there watching my genitals being whipped over and over, I could see my balls swelling to monstrous size. They were easily larger than grapefruits, and the skin covering them was stretched almost to the breaking point. My cock was also monstrously swollen, and looked to be at least 18" long. It was covered with stripes and welts, and several of the wounds were seeping blood.

Finally the whipping ended, and the three exhausted friends gathered in front of me to survey their handiwork. I saw that Tom's cock was now also erect, and as in real life, it was both longer and bigger around than mine. The women's arousal was also evident in their erect nipples and the excited smiles on their faces.

They laughed at my comical writhing as I hung there, and said that it was a shame that it took so much work on their part to make my equipment grow to a respectable size. I distinctly recall Jen saying, "If he could make it that big on his own, then maybe I'd keep him around." The three laughed at that, and then they paused to look at my lovely wife, as if awaiting further instructions.

Without pause, she said, "I don't want him to die as a man. He wasn't much of one when he was alive, and I'll make him even less of one when he's dead." With that she knelt in front of me and held her hand out toward Tom.

He again reached into the bag, then brought out a wicked-looking knife, which he handed to Jen. She held it up to me so that I could get a good look at it, then placed the tip on the center of my swollen sac. I both felt and saw the blade sink into my sac, and then the way she pulled the cutting edge downward. From my vantage point in front of my hanging body, I saw the sac separate in two halves, and then my balls fall out. They were now approaching the size of basketballs, and the cords stretched until they were hanging barely above the ground.

Jen picked up one of the nuts and handed it to Melissa. The other was given to Tom. At a signal from her, they began to back away from me, stretching and pulling the connecting cords until I thought my intestines were being pulled from my body. When they were about 6' in front of me, and the cords were as thin as kite strings, they stopped. Jen then placed the blade over the cords, as close as she could get it to my crotch. With one quick slice, she severed both cords, and I saw the cut ends fall to the ground.

Melissa asked what they should do with the things, and Jen replied, "Just throw them in the underbrush. I'm sure some animal will find them later and have a good snack. At least they'll finally serve some useful purpose."

I watched as my balls were tossed aside, and saw them hit the ground and roll to a stop. The cords were still stretched far from the orbs, and I had an instant recollection of a tether ball game that I had as a child, and how one time the cord had broken at the top of the pole, causing the ball to lay on the lawn looking exactly as my severed balls now did. My attention was quickly brought back to my wife when she said, "Just one more little thing to get rid of now. It won't be more than a snack for anything that finds it, I'm afraid."

She then placed the knife on top of my shaft, as close to my body as it would go, and looked up at me. I knew that she intended to take everything off, and not leave even a tiny stub to remind her of where my penis had once been. She said in a husky, low voice, "If you want to keep the worthless thing, say something now or forever hold your peace." I struggled to make my throat and mouth form the words that would save my cock, but was unable to do so. At the same time that I was frantically trying to speak, I knew in the back of my mind that I wanted this to happen. I wanted my beautiful wife to sever my cock from my body, and to throw it away.

Seeing that I couldn't beg her to stop, Jen begin to slowly slice through the shaft of my penis. In my dream, the process was virtually bloodless, and the thing stayed hard throughout. I know, of course, that a severed cock would quickly drain of the engorging blood, and shrink to a shriveled tube, but that's not what happened in my dream.

Jen finally completed the removal and stood, holding the knife in one hand, and my severed manhood in the other. She held the head of the thing up to my lips and said, "Kiss it goodbye, honey. You won't be needing it anymore." With that, she threw it into the brush, to lie beside what used to be my balls.

Melissa then said, "Let's get this over with. I want to eat your cunt, and have you eat mine, while he's swinging in the breeze."

Jen nodded her assent, and then asked Tom if he'd do the honors. He walked behind me, and I soon felt the rope loosen as he untied it. Jen said, "Wait a minute, Tom. Let him catch his breath as much as possible. When he's strangling, I want it to go on as long as possible, so we can all enjoy it that much more."

My feet settled to the ground, and the tension in the rope relaxed. I gulped in air a fast as I could, in an effort to fill my half-starved lungs. After several seconds, my breathing evened, and from my vantage point in front of myself, I could see that normal color had returned to my face. Seeing that I'd recovered, Jen smiled sweetly at me. I could see that her nipples were harder than they'd ever been, and I could actually smell the pussy juices that were surely dripping from her steaming crotch.

The last words she said to me were, "Now take a deep breath and hold it. I want to see you dance just as long as possible." I drew in the largest amount of air that I could, and held it. As soon as Jen saw that I was ready, she looked at Tom and nodded.

Almost immediately, the noose tightened again, and I felt myself being lifted from what little contact with the ground that I'd had before. From my vantage point in front of my body, I saw myself lifted completely clear of the ground. I saw my body began to buck wildly, in an attempt to break free of the noose that was choking the life from me. I saw my mouth gaping as wide as it could as my tortured lungs tried to draw in air. I saw my face turn dark red, then purple, and then almost black. I saw my eyes bulge almost completely out of my head, and saw my tongue protruding from my wide-open mouth.

Finally my hips began to undulate back and forth, and then my jism began to fountain from the hole in my crotch where my cock used to be. In my dream, the cum spurted several feet in front of my body, and I could both feel and see how intensely pleasurable it was to me.

That's when I awakened, and as I soon discovered, the dream had been of the variety known as a "wet" one.

I was alone in the bed then, and was glad of that, since I would have been embarrassed to have Jen know that I was nothing more than a horny teenager having sexual-fantasy dreams. Then as I lay there, I thought back over what she had introduced us to in the way of sex play, and realized there was no reason for me to feel any shame. Given her interests as demonstrated last night, she would probably find my dream as arousing as I had.

I got out of bed, and re-arranged and smoothed the covers before going to the bathroom to get ready for the day. I was sure that I must smell like a randy goat, give the intense session last night, plus my erotic dream just a few minutes before. For that reason, I took a quick bath before getting dressed. The instant I settled into the hot water in the tub, my butt reminded me that it was still there. It took several minutes before I could become fully seated, but when I did, the water seemed to suddenly become soothing to my injuries, and I spent almost half an hour lying in it.

Jen was in the kitchen reading the Sunday newspaper when I entered. She looked up and smiled, then asked, "Did you sleep well, honey?" I smiled back and answered, "Yes. You must have thought that I'd never get out of bed."

She replied, "Well, I figured that you'd need lots of sleep to recover from what we did to you last night. And I'm hoping for a quick recovery, so we can do it again right away. How about you?"

I understood then that our relationship had entered a whole new dimension. Never before had we had anything more than circumspect conversations about sex when we talked during the daytime. Anything of that nature was reserved for bedroom talk. The fact that my wife would so openly refer to what we'd done a few hours before, and express her anticipation of doing it again right away, both surprised and excited me. I very much wanted this state of affairs to continue, and said as honestly as I could, "Yes. I want it again. It was scary and painful at the time, and of course my butt still hurts, but I want to feel the noose and see you swinging the whip just as soon as possible."

She smiled lazily at me, then said, "I don't believe that you ever saw me swinging the whip. If you recall, your back was turned to me when I was doing that. Does that mean that you're jealous of Tom, and that you want the same thing Melissa gave to him?" I knew that she was referring to the other man's cock being whipped by his wife, and was using this as a way of asking me if I wanted her to do the same thing to me.

Without a moment's hesitation, I replied, "Yes. I want you to do that to me the next time. When Melissa was whipping him in front, I was scared that you'd do the same thing to me, and then when you didn't, I realized just how much I wanted to feel the whip down there. I'm sure he's really sore today, but probably thinks that it's worth it. If you want to whip me between my legs the next time we're in the garage, don't even hesitate to do it."

She smiled again, then after a short pause said, "When you say 'whip you between your legs', do you really mean it? I mean, do you want me to whip whatever I can find there?" She laughed, then looked directly at me while waiting for my answer.

Finally I understood what she was asking, and nodded my assent, saying, "Whatever you find, wherever you find it. I'm your total slave, and any part of my body is yours to use any way you want to."

She didn't hesitate at all before replying, leading me to understand that she'd been thinking of this subject long before it had been brought up this morning. She said, "I want to warn you that when a man's balls are whipped he feels intense pain, and he actually cries because the pain is so bad. Then they swell up until they look like they're going to break through the sac. Are you sure you want that?"

I looked down at the table top, considering my answer before softly saying, "Yes. If you're the one who's doing it, then I want it to be done. I'll recover from it, I'm sure."

Jen then said, "Oh, you'll recover all right, but it'll take a week or two. In the meantime, you'll hobble around like your leg is broken, and you'll find it painful to even sit in a chair." She then laughed again, as if recalling something from the past.

That intrigued me, and I asked, "How do you know that? Did Melissa tell you? Has she whipped Tom's balls, and that's what happened to him?"

She laughed again before answering my questions, saying, "Yes. Melissa has whipped her husband's balls and told me what happened afterward. Even more than that, I have direct experience, because I've also whipped his balls."

I sure my mouth was hanging open in surprise at that point, because Jen couldn't stop smiling and giggling. My mind was boiling over with questions, and I began by asking, "When did you do it? Was he hanging in the garage then? How did you get him to hold his legs spread for you?"

She replied, "Okay. To answer your questions in order: I first whipped his balls several months ago. Melissa had been doing it for even longer, and she asked me if I wanted to see what it felt like. Naturally, I said I'd love to. As for your second question: Yes, he was hanging in the garage, just as you saw him last night. He didn't need to hold his legs open for us, since his ankles had been tied to a spreader bar that he'd made for Melissa to use on him."

The image of him hanging there, with his legs tied wide open while his balls were whipped, brought back my wet dream of about two hours before. I knew from the tingling in my cock that it was becoming hard again, and it was causing me a great deal of pain. Unlike what my reaction to genital pain would have been a few short weeks ago, now it served to increase my arousal.

Jen must have seen the distant look in my eyes just then, for she asked, "What were you thinking of just now?" I was flustered by her question, and embarrassed to tell her what my actual thoughts had been. I tried to cover by replying, "Oh, nothing really. I was just thinking about how it would feel to have that done to me."

She wouldn't let me brush her off that easily, and insisted that she knew my brain had been somewhere else. She finally said, "Do you really think that we need to keep our own special little secrets from each other? Surely we can tell each other anything at all now. After all, I strung you up last night, and then whipped your ass. Now we're talking about me tying your legs apart and whipping your balls until they swell up to the size of baseballs. Do you really think there's any justification for reluctance?"

I thought about what she'd said for less than two seconds before realizing the truth of her opinion. As a way of explaining my thoughts of a few moments before, I began by saying, "I had a wet dream just before I woke up. It was something like what you said you'd done to Tom, but quite a bit stronger. Do you want to hear about it?"

She said simply, "Yes", and so I began relating the dream from the time the four of us were walking through the woods toward the place where I would be whipped, unmanned, and then hanged. When I had finally finished the story, her eyes were almost glazed over and her breathing was coming in short gasps. I knew that she had found the dream to be almost as erotic as I had, and that she was sorry to come to the end of it.

Finally she said, "That's just about the hottest story I've ever heard. I've thought about doing some of those things to you, of course, but never all at once like that. When you were telling the part about me castrating you, I could almost feel the knife in my hand. The part about cutting off your cock was the best part, though. Thank you for telling that to me. You don't need to be embarrassed or ashamed about any of it."

She stood up and unfastened her pants, then quickly stepped out of them. Her panties soon were laying on the floor also, and she said, "You've made me so damned hot that I can't stand it. Get down on the floor on your back, now!"

I was quick to obey. As soon as I was in position, she straddled my head, then lowered her pussy to my waiting tongue. With my first lick, I realized that she hadn't bathed that morning, as I could taste her leftover juices from last night, as well as the faint traces of urine from when she had used the bathroom shortly before. Rather than disgusting me, the taste and smell simply increased my own arousal. Soon I was lapping up everything that I could find in her delicious pussy, and wishing for more.

Her intense arousal from my dream was soon demonstrated by her deep-throated moans, and then her cry of passion as she climaxed. Her legs closed so tightly that I thought my skull would be crushed. I remember thinking that being executed in that manner would be exciting, rather than frightening.

As soon as Jen had recovered from her orgasm, she stood and looked down at me. She looked down at me lying there on my back, and could plainly see my hard-on tenting the soft fabric of the sweat pants I was wearing. She put her foot on it and transferred some of her weight to it, increasing the pain in both my cock and my ass, which was pressed tightly to the floor. She asked, "Does that hurt, honey?"

I groaned in answer, and was finally able to whisper a pained, "Yes." She smiled even more broadly, then said, "I like it when that happens. You can damned well bet that it's going to happen lots more in the future, too. Melissa has given me lots of ideas about fun things we can do together, and maybe we'll try some of them after awhile."

She appeared to be quite calm now, and said in a normal conversational tone, "That was nice. Now go get us two cups of coffee and come sit here at the table with me. We need to talk about something."

The pressure of lying on the hard floor on my back had made my butt take fire again, and it was painful for me to stand up. I took Jen's almost-empty cup to the countertop where the coffeemaker was perking away with the coffee that she had made earlier, filled her cup and mine, then carried both to the table. I seated myself slowly, still very much aware of my ass.

As I slowly eased into my chair, Jen smiled at me, asking, "Did something happen to make you sore, honey?" She laughed at my obvious discomfort, and I had to join in her amusement. After all, what she'd done to me had been as much my desire as hers, and I couldn't do anything other than accept the after-effects.

We sipped our coffee in silence for a few moments, and I could tell that she was trying to get her thoughts in order, and would broach the subject when she was ready. Finally, she cleared her throat, then said, "I've been thinking about where we're heading in terms of our sex lives. What happened last night, coupled with the dream you just told me, makes me think that we could get pretty serious about me doing painful things to you. I have to tell you that Melissa and Tom are in pretty deep with the whole S&M scene, and we need to decide if that's the path we want to follow. What do you think?"

I wasn't really sure what was involved here, since I seemed to be the "new kid on the block", as it were, so I said, "I've read enough to know that S&M stands for 'sadism and masochism', but other than that, it's new to me. I do know that what happened last night was simply the most exciting thing ever, and I want it to happen again. I would expect us to want to try new things, but I'm not sure just what they'd be. What is it that Melissa and Tom do?"

She paused for several seconds with a faraway look in her eyes, and I knew that she was trying to order her thoughts. Finally she began, saying, "They've been playing their games for over three years now, so are into some pretty serious stuff. With Melissa being an emergency-room nurse, she's had lots of opportunities to see firsthand what people do to each other. She's told me many times about some of the men who are brought to the emergency room to be treated for injuries their wives or lovers have given them. Some of the stories are pretty extreme. Do you want to hear them?"

My interest in that subject was intense at that point, and my throat was so tight that I had to clear it a couple of times before I could say simply, "Yes." She then began describing some of the things that Melissa had told her about, starting with the more mild and progressing to the extreme.

"Melissa has always been intrigued with the things that women do to their husbands, and when a man comes to the emergency room with the sort of injury that would fit that profile, she tries to be the one to take what is called the 'history'. That's a form that's filled out, explaining the nature of the problem, and also its probable cause."

"She told me once that a high percentage of the injuries they see there are due to a category they have called 'sexual experimentation'. There are apparently a large number of self-inflicted injuries in that category, but the second-highest causation is the person's partner. Since she's most interested in the things that women do to men, she makes a special point of remembering the details of each incident, then writing them in her diary when she gets home. She says that's been the source for most of the things that she does to Tom."

"She showed my her diary several months ago, and it reads like a novel written by a female version of the Marquis De Sade. I remember the first entry there involved a man who had been tied face-down on the bed, and then raped repeatedly with a beer bottle wielded by his wife. His asshole had to be surgically repaired, but the funny part was that when the man was brought in by his wife, the bottle was still stuck in his asshole. Apparently that was the only reason he'd come to the hospital, and if they could have removed the bottle at home, he'd have been allowed to recover there."

"Melissa told me that the fellow had no ill feelings toward his wife, and refused to press any sort of charges. She finally got him to admit that he'd asked her to bugger him like that, and it wasn't his wife's fault that she got a little too enthusiastic. She told me then that virtually all of the cases she's seen have involved the active cooperation of the man, or even his insistence that his wife do those things to him. I think you can understand that, given your eager involvement in what we did last night."

I nodded my head in agreement, knowing full well how powerful an influence lust could be. I could understand that a man could want his wife to hurt him in a sexual way, for I had the same sort of feelings. Seeing my agreement, Jen continued.

"Melissa said the one incident that motivated her to talk to Tom about hanging happened about three years ago. A man was brought to the emergency room by the ambulance, and it was pretty evident from the rope burns around his neck that it was more than just another accident. As I said, she's been interested in that subject for a long time, so she made it a point to be the one to take the history."

"She talked to the man's wife first, and was told that she had found her husband hanging in their garage, and was sure that he'd tried to commit suicide. The woman insisted that she had been in the house when the event happened, and didn't have any other information, other than that she'd untied the rope as soon as she saw him hanging there, and then called the ambulance."

"The preliminary examination of the fellow revealed that he was completely nude, and that there were the predictable rope burns around his neck. However, what made the whole thing so unusual was that there were also rope burns around his wrists and his ankles. It seemed pretty obvious that both of those places had been bound while he was hanging, and that his struggles to free himself had caused the burns."

Jen paused then to look at me, to see if I understood the implications of what Melissa had told her. I said, "It's easy to see why she'd be interested in that one, then. I'm sure that a man could manage to tie his own ankles before hanging himself, but it'd be pretty hard for him to also tie his wrists together. And probably even more difficult for him to dispose of the ropes after he'd passed out."

She nodded and smiled, indicating her agreement with my assessment, then continued, "Melissa talked in private with the man's wife, telling her what the examination had revealed, and saying that anything discussed between them would never be told to anyone else. When the woman finally understood why Melissa was so interested, she confessed that she and her husband had been holding 'lynching parties' for quite some time, and that this one had just gone too far. She said it had been his idea that he should be 'forced' to stand on a stool while the noose was tightened and tied off. As she whipped him, his struggles knocked over the stool, and it took her so long to untie the knot that he had long since passed out. She finally got him down, then panicked and called the ambulance."

"Melissa said that was her first introduction to the possibility of whipping a man while he was being hanged, and it added an extra dimension to her fantasies. She said it was right after that incident that she decided it was time to introduce Tom to the joys of female dominance. Apparently he was also having fantasies of being dominated by his wife, and her timid suggestions were the opening of the floodgates, as it were. That very night, she brought three of his neckties to their bed, and they were soon doing the exact same thing that you and I were a couple of months ago."

"She said it was Tom who suggested that stringing him up in the garage would be lots more realistic than tying him to the bed, and they were quick to try that variation. The second time they did it there, she gave in to her fantasies and used a short length of rope to whip his ass. That turned both of them on so much that they soon wanted more, and so they found a place on the Internet where they could order the whip. It didn't take long before she was using the spreader bar on him, and whipping him front and back."

"Melissa told me about something else that she's been fantasizing about lately, but you probably don't want to hear it. I'm sure it'd scare you silly." She stopped then, and looked at me, smiling broadly. By that time, I had no more reservations about hearing anything my wife wanted to tell me, and I urged her to continue.

She did so, saying, "Her new 'kink' also originated in the emergency room. She said that a man had been brought there a couple of months ago after being involved in a motorcycle accident. He had hit something and been thrown forward over the handlebars. Apparently his crotch struck something pretty violently, and one of his balls was damaged beyond repair and had to be removed. Melissa, as the senior nurse, was asked to assist the emergency-room surgeon, and she recounted in vivid detail how the victim's sac was opened, the damaged nut pulled out, and then the repairs made. She said that following the surgery she had to go into a stall in the restroom and masturbate, because she was so turned on by seeing that done to a man."

"She said the accident victim recovered quickly from that particular injury, and that one of the doctors told her that a partial castration would have zero effect on the man's sex life. That information was all she needed to start making plans for introducing Tom to life as a one-nut wonder." Jen laughed at her little joke, then waited for me to say something.

I was pretty flustered for several seconds, and the silence dragged on. Finally I was able to say, "I see what you mean by them being pretty far ahead of us. Is that sort of thing what you have planned for me as well?"

Jen smiled broadly, saying, "It's definitely something to keep in mind. It's probably fairly far in the future, though, since we're still babes in the woods in regard to this sort of thing. Of course, that probably seems pretty mild to somebody who wants to be hanged from a tree limb while his balls and cock are removed. Right, sweetie?"

She laughed aloud then, and I tried to join in. In truth, the idea of being castrated by my wife was making me hotter by the second, and it was close enough to my dream to make my aching cock become even more erect. It was pretty obvious that Jen knew I was aroused by the subject, for she then said to me, "Stand up and pull down your pants and shorts."

I wasted no time following her orders, and was soon standing there beside her, my engorged "one-eyed monster" pointing directly at her and throbbing to the beat of my heart. She told me to stand as close as I could to the edge of the table, and then to bend my knees until the base of my cock was at the same height as the tabletop. It never occurred to me to question her, or to even hesitate, and I was quick to obey.

As soon as the base of my penis was touching the table, she placed her coffee cup on top of the shaft and began pressing it against the surface. The cup had cooled considerably from its original temperature, but still felt burning hot to my sensitive member. She continued pressing with more and more force, seemingly wanting to smash the thing flat. I was almost out of my head with excitement, due to both her story and what she was now doing to stimulate me. The pain I was feeling from the heat and pressure seemed to redouble my arousal, and when she said sharply, "Cum now!", my balls needed no further encouragement to respond.

I saw my cock began to spurt its juice in obedience to her command, and in the back of my mind was surprised that the stuff wasn't sprayed farther than it was. I assume that the squeezing pressure was reducing its ability to deliver its "payload". In any case most of the jism ended up in a thick rope from about 12" in front of the head, and then continuing back to the tip.

By the time the last spasm had quieted, my knees were so weak that I was afraid they would buckle. I had to place my hands on the tabletop to support myself, or else I'm sure I'd have fallen to the floor. It was also at that moment that a firestorm of heat and pain hit my crotch. My cock and balls had received more stimulation in the past half day than ever before in my life. From a "schedule" of cumming once every couple of days, they'd suddenly been asked to do it three times in about one-half a day. Now they were showing their displeasure.

Although I don't recall doing it, Jen told me later that I cried out with the sudden intense pain, and immediately collapsed into the chair. She said it seemed like several minutes before I was able to respond to her question of, "Are you okay?"

Finally I was able to tell her what I was feeling, and she said that it was certainly understandable, given all the extra stimulation I'd received recently. We sat there for several more minutes as I slowly recovered. When I finally stood to re-dress, I was surprised to see that my dick hadn't shrunk to a nubbin. To the contrary, it looked to be about normal size when in a soft condition, but the color was almost bright red, which was certainly fitting, given the feeling of intense heat in the thing.

When Jen said that we'd had enough fun for the time being, and that she had things to do, she left the table. Her parting words to me were instructions to "clean up my mess", which I did. The rest of the day is not much more than a foggy memory to me, other than the prevailing memory of lots of pain in my crotch. I do know that I didn't have any more hard-ons for several hours.