Panty Freaks, Part 3, Chapters 11-15

Part 3, Chapters 11 - 15

Chapter 11

That summer I resolved to make every attempt get a date with Celia. I reasoned that I really should have an advantage, an inside track so to speak. I saw Celia at church every Sunday, and often on Wednesday nights. School was out and the jocks were occupied elsewhere.

I was counting on the probability that her parents would encourage her to go with a boy within the church, rather than an outsider. There was one big problem, however. I didn’t own a car. My parents didn’t believe that I, or any teenager for that matter, should have a car. They said access to an automobile provided too much temptation and opportunity for kids to engage in unclean or rebellious behavior.

I was probably the only seventeen year-old boy in town that still rode a bicycle regularly. We lived about two blocks from a grocery store and I would still ride my bicycle down there to pick up a few miscellaneous items. Not far from there was the municipal swimming pool where Celia worked as a summer lifeguard. I was always coming up with an excuse to go pick up something at the grocery store so I could swing by and wave at Celia.

The female lifeguards all wore conservative one-piece suits - white, with a red and blue city emblem sewn on the left hip. I thought Celia looked very cute in her swimsuit. Her body was solid and muscular, yet feminine. She didn’t have the appearance of a gangly teenager at all. Of course I was not allowed to go to the pool myself, because my parents didn’t believe in mixed bathing. I had learned to swim at church camp where it was boys only.

I was always self-conscious about having only a bicycle for transportation. I knew there were college guys who rode bicycles. They were mostly fitness buffs or save-the-environment types, but Celia knew I rode a bicycle because my parents forbid me to use the car. Celia also knew why I never went to the pool. Nevertheless, she always waved at me and gave me a big smile. I never knew if she was really glad to see me or if she was just amused or what. Basically, her smile was a meet-the-public smile. I could always dream though.

Needless to say, I was crushed when Celia arrived at church one morning escorted by young man in his own car. I had no idea of the extent of his and Celia’s relationship - he was from another denomination. He brought her to church once more after that, and I only saw them together those two times.

However, Celia did change her attitude toward me that summer. Instead of being friendly-aloof, or you might say store-clerk friendly, she became friendly-condescending, or big-sister friendly. Once she decided that I had neither the balls nor the fiscal wherewithal to be romantically threatening she actually seemed to enjoy my attention. She quickly found useful little jobs and errands for me to run at church potlucks and picnics, and I eagerly complied with her requests, more than happy to just be her flunky.

That fall at school Larry and I still attended all the pep rallies and home games. Cynthia was more beautiful than ever out on the field in her little cheerleader costume, bouncing and squealing with team spirit and enthusiasm.

The big thing for me, though, was that Celia was speaking to me now - in the hall, at the lockers, or anywhere we happened to meet. I was elated. Really hot chicks, especially the girls on the cheering squad, usually had nothing to do with the nerds. This must have seemed strange to some of her girlfriends too, because I once overheard her say to one of her friends, "Oh, he goes to my church," obviously in response to someone questioning why she was bothering to give me the time of day. That made my heart leap!

At a pep rally one afternoon Larry and I were watching the cheerleaders go through their routine. We were both drooling with desire, watching the field full of bouncing girls in their revealing little gold and white uniforms. They would jump and twirl and flip, exposing their well-toned, shapely legs and their cute little gold panties.

"Can you imagine?" I asked Larry, "what it would be like be in a giant bed with all of them in there together, wanting you to do it to them?"

Larry grinned and looked at me. "All the time," he said. "What’s really fun though, it to put on a gaff and pretend they’re all there wanting it, and I’m wanting it, but I can’t do anything but rub around."

"I’ve done that too," I said, a little surprised at how similar our fantasies were.

"Have you ever thought about what it would be like not to have to wear the gaff, and - you know - just not have a dick."

"Yeah," I said. The similarities of our fantasies were uncanny! "I wonder why that’s so much fun? You know you wouldn’t really want to be where you couldn’t get it."

"Maybe it’s because we have just as much chance with dicks as without them - none at all!"

We both laughed even though it wasn’t really funny. It seemed all too true at the time.

I often fantasized, at home in my bedroom, that Celia was a dominatrix and that Larry and I were her personal slaves. She would be very much like the dominatraces in those B&D magazines except I never imagined her wearing black leather. I mostly imagined her wearing her little cheerleader costume with those cute little gold panties stretching over the shapely curves of her firm buttocks.

In my fantasies Larry and I would both be dickless. Celia would have required that we give up our dicks before we could become her slaves. I had several fantasies about how we would lose our dicks. Sometimes I would imagine Celia had the other girls on the cheering squad do it, sometimes it would be the other female lifeguards at the pool, sometimes Celia would take us to the school nurse (whom I thought was quite a honey), or sometimes Celia would do it herself. I always imagined having one last wonderful orgasm before they took my little pleasure organ from me.

In any case, Larry and I would end up living with Celia as her dickless slaves. I never imagined her to be harsh and cruel like some of the black-leather dominatraces in the magazines. I always envisioned her as lighthearted and joking. Using Celia as a model, I was creating my own dominatrix archetype. She was like some good-natured big sister - at times bossy and demanding - but always with our best interest at heart.

Making us dickless would be no big deal. It was just one of those things, like having the dog or cat neutered. It would allow us to safely get close and cuddly, then we could live happily ever-after. We would all remain pure and celibate. Anything we did with each other would be okay now, because without dicks, we could never have real sex.

In my fantasy, Celia would make me and Larry wear panties just as though we were girls. She would tell us that without dicks we looked so cute in them. No more gaffs - we didn’t need them! She would smile warmly and tell us how it was sweet of us to give up our dicks to become her sissy slaves. Then we would crawl into bed and kiss and cuddle.

This was actually in contrast to other fantasies I had about Celia. I would often fantasize that Celia and I would finally start dating and it would become apparent that we were destined to be married. In my fantasy we would be married in our church just after graduation. We would go to some exotic honeymoon destination and finally we would be alone in a dimly-lighted romantic bedroom.

I fantasized that we would slowly remove each others clothes and she would be wearing a pair of little gold panties just like she wore under her cheerleader skirt. I wanted to fantasize that I was wearing panties too, but somehow, that didn’t fit this scenario. In this fantasy I was supposed to be a regular guy, one like she would want to marry. I used to pray to God to make this come true for me. At least we would be playing by all the rules. We would remain chaste for each other until our wedding night. I prayed that Celia would be the big payoff for all the strict rules under which I had been living.

However, it kind of bothered me that I couldn’t realistically be wearing panties in this scenario, and somewhere in the back recesses of my mind I squirreled away the idea that I would have to work on this problem. Whenever I was horny I wanted badly to be wearing panties. It was just becoming part of feeling sexy.

Later that fall, Larry and I both volunteered to work on the float for the homecoming parade. Not only did we get out of a lot of classes, but practically the whole cheering squad turned out to help with the project. Celia latched onto me and Larry immediately and put us to work as her helpers and gopher-boys. When someone else tried to enlist our assistance, Celia let them know in no uncertain terms that we were hers. Larry and I were walking on air!

Celia would send us on errands and assign us little tasks in decorating the float. We were in our seventh heaven doing her bidding and I think she knew it. For me it was like I was partially being allowed to live out my fantasy of being her sissy slave.

On the last day before the parade the school had planned a big pep rally for that afternoon. We were putting the finishing touches on the float and all the cheerleaders were in full costume. Working around these girls in their little short skirts, occasionally catching a glimpse of golden panty, had Larry and I literally slavering with desire. It was awesome!

This afternoon it wasn’t Celia, however, who sent me and Larry on and errand. It was Coach Robins. He gave me a key and told me to go to the gym and get some shop towels and some rolls of tape from one of the storerooms. After Coach Robins told us the location of the items, Larry and I trotted off enthusiastically to the gym. It was a beautifully warm and sunny fall day, and the preparations for the parade and upcoming game had our spirits bolstered.

Unlocking the storeroom, Larry and I entered. The door automatically locked on closing so no one could enter without a key. A small bank of high windows near the twenty-foot ceiling were made from translucent privacy glass. Although the room was rather dim the light from the row of tiny windows was adequate and Larry and I never bothered switching on a light.

Our school was in the process of remodeling the main auditorium and many of the items normally housed in the drama department - back stage - were temporarily stored in this storeroom. This gave the room’s contents a junky disordered appearance. In the central part of the room were dozens of exercise mats, actually Army surplus mattresses, stacked four feet high and wedged between an assortment of stage props and other paraphernalia.

Larry and I found the towels and the rolls of tape on a shelf behind a long portable clothes rack containing miscellaneous costumes from the drama department. Retrieving our quarry from the shelf, we were about to leave when we heard a key rattling in the door. We could see the door from our vantage point behind the costume rack, but we were well hidden from the view of anyone coming in the door.

I almost stepped out and asked who was there, but the door opened and Larry and I both froze. A girl in a cheerleader costume burst through the open door. It was Celia! She was closely followed by Darrell, who quickly closed the door behind them. Darrell and Celia were frantically kissing and groping each other. Darrell picked Celia up by the waist and tossed her onto a stack of mattresses. Reaching under her skirt he hastily stripped off her little golden panties and threw them into the floor.

All the while Celia had her arms around his neck and continued her frantic kissing. As soon as Darrell had disposed of Celia’s panties he jerked his own jeans and under shorts down to his knees with a single motion, allowing his huge boner to pop into view. Without measuring I can’t be sure how large Darrell was, but he was much larger than either me or Larry. It had grown considerably since that day he jerked off in the boys’ locker room in sixth grade. I would guess he had around eight inches.

Without hesitation Darrell plunged his big sausage into Celia’s crotch. Guiding it with her frantic hands, Celia gasped and bucked her hips to meet Darrell’s thrust. He buried his big sausage in her cunt, all the way to his big hairy ball sack. Locking her legs around Darrell’s, Celia sighed and moaned softly with all the feminine sensuality one would expect from such a voluptuous delicate beauty.

Darrell interspersed a series of pig-like grunts with deep guttural vocalizations of, "Oooohugh!… Oooohugh!…Oooohugh!" He sounded like a crazed ape. I could only watch in helpless dismay as Darrell skewered and defiled the altar of my dreams with his monstrous member. Again and again Darrell plunged his huge cock into Celia’s eager cunt.

Finally, Celia unlocked her legs from Darrell and spread them as wide as she possibly could, an obvious sign of total submission. She was his to do with as he pleased. Grabbing her thighs just above her knees, Darrell pinned Celia’s legs to the mattress on either side, forcing her into the splits. Celia squealed with the sweet pain of ecstatic surrender as Darrell almost dislocated her hips.

Darrell’s thrusts became more frenzied and his vocalizations louder as he neared his climax. I thought surely someone in the hall would hear him, but the gym was deserted this hour. Finally, Darrell gave a pile-driving thrust and uttered a loud "WhooougHooogh" as he shot his load. Celia was shaking and quivering like a leaf in the wind. After a couple more thrusts, Darrell withdrew his cock. The only sound in the room now was heavy breathing.

Jumping to his feet, Darrell quickly looked around with a perturbed expression. Reaching down to the floor, he grabbed Celia’s discarded panties and wiped his dripping cock, then quickly pulled up his own pants.

"Darrell, don’t," Celia protested weakly, "I have to wear those." Celia’s voice was broken and her teeth were chattering like a person who was out in the cold. Her legs were still spread on the mattress, just as Darrell had left them.

Shooting her an annoyed glance, Darrell tossed the panties at Celia. They landed on her face.

"Shit!" Darrell exclaimed, looking at his watch. He turned quickly and started for the door.

"Don’t leave me, Darrell," Celia begged, her voice still breaking. "I need you."

"Shut up, bitch!" Darrell blurted, in a hoarse whisper. "I’m late for practice!" With that he stalked out the door and let it slam behind him.

Except for Celia’s sobs, the room became deathly quiet. She slowly drew her legs back together. My eyes suddenly focused on Celia’s soft pubic curls. They weren’t blonde, but a soft medium brown. They were matted, here and there, with globs of semen and the honeydew of her own precious secretions. Darrell’s semen was still oozing from her lovely, delicate slit. I wanted to cry.

Slowly she got to her feet and stood unsteadily, clinging to the stack of mattresses for support. She was crying profusely now. Her eyes darted around the room, searching. I knew she was looking for something to clean up the mess in her ravaged crotch. I wanted badly to come out of hiding and give her a hand full of shop towels, but I thought if she knew she had been discovered it would be even more devastating.

Finally, she just rubbed her dripping crotch against the mattresses, cleaning herself as best she could. Slipping back into her semen-stained panties Celia attempted to walk, supporting herself on the mattresses. Alacrity slowly returned to her traumatized legs. She was bawling audibly and wretchedly. I wanted badly to go to her and put my arm around her, offering what solace and comfort I could. But I knew that was not possible. It would serve only to make a bad situation much worse.

After what seemed to be an eternity, Celia finally composed herself well enough to leave the storeroom. She was walking a little stiff and bow-legged, and her eyes were red from crying. She closed the door and the latch clicked softly behind her.

Larry and I waited until we heard Celia’s footsteps disappear down the hall before we emerged from our hiding place.

"Larry, you mustn’t tell," was the first words I uttered.

"Don’t worry, man. I’m not saying a thing."

Larry’s eyes were blurred and misting, just as mine were. I don’t know if Larry was as deeply infatuated with Celia as I, but I suspect so. I know he had a strong crush on her. Potentially, we could have been rivals. Perhaps we should have been rivals, but now we were bonded by the soul-crushing reality of our own sexual inadequacy.

"What a jerk!" I exclaimed. "Of all the guys on the team, why did she have to pick Darrell?"

"I don’t know," Larry replied. "I don’t think he gives a shit about her. He just needed to get off and Celia was handy."

"Yea, but why do girls go for guys like Darrell? What does she see in him - just a big dick?"

"Must be; the girls don’t want ours. Guys like us might as well not even have dicks!" Larry sounded disgusted.

"It was just like watching two cats or something," I said. "They just went at it, never said a word until it was over."

"And did you see how easy he slipped it in? No blood, no strain, just like she’d done that dozens of times before. Darrell wasn’t gettin’ no cherry!"

I was too upset to reply or comment. We took our bundle of shop towels and the rolls of tape and headed back to the bus yard where they were working on the float. We hadn’t been gone long, really, maybe ten minutes. Nobody noticed. The entire tryst between Celia and Darrell couldn’t have taken more than three minutes. It had taken Cilia much longer to compose herself afterward.

At the pep rally that afternoon Celia was her same bubbly, bouncing self. It was as though nothing had happened. She had either obtained a new pair of gold panties for her costume or thoroughly washed and dried the ones she had. When she went through her routine of flips and handstands I couldn’t see the slightest remnant of Darrell’s issue.

After that afternoon Celia was often in my thoughts, but never again in my sexual fantasies.

Chapter 12

After that incident in the storeroom I know I didn’t even want to masturbate for at least a week (that was a long time for me). I didn’t want to think about sex and tried to think of other things. I began putting on a gaff before going to bed, denying myself any outlet. Finally, I was able to get Celia out of my mind long enough to allow my thoughts to wander to images of the dominatraces in the magazines. Laying there helpless in my gaff, I would imagine that I lived in the fantasy realm of their dungeons as their dickless slave, a sissified panty boy.

It wasn’t until mid-December that I allowed myself relief by masturbating. I imagined that one of the dominatraces in the B&D magazine was allowing me one last squirt before she removed my dick. As I shot off staring at the smirking dominatrix in the glossy magazine my heart was filled with gratitude. I babbled quietly in the afterglow, thanking her for allowing me to cum one last time. I felt a gnawing regret that this was just a fantasy and could never be real.

School turned out, as usual, for two weeks over the holidays and Celia didn’t return after New Year’s. Since I went to her church, I naturally had the inside scoop. I don’t really think I was that naïve. Well… perhaps I was. Larry picked up on it right away.

"Yeah," I said, talking to Larry privately. "Her dad had this big business deal go through down in Mexico and he was going to have to be down there for a while. So he thought it would be a good opportunity to take the whole family down there for a few weeks. You know, it’s a big experience for the kids. They can make up the school later."

"I’m not buying it," Larry said.

"Why not? Her dad owns a construction company and…"

Larry was looking at me as though I were an idiot, but I still didn’t want to accept the obvious.

"You think she’s pregnant?"

Larry nodded his head. "That’s gotta be it, man. How come her old man didn’t just wait til summer?"

"Yeah, but they’re coming back in February. If Celia was going to have a baby they would have to stay down there the rest of…"

Larry was giving me that look again.

"But her dad doesn’t believe in…"

"And that’s why he took her to Mexico. He couldn’t have it done around here - not with him a deacon in the church and all."

The devastating reality - the truth I didn’t want to accept - finally soaked in.

"You know," said Larry, "I’ll bet I can get on the internet and find out where she had it done. At least if he really took her to Cancun like you said. I’ll bet there’s not that many first class abortion clinics in that town. Celia’s dad wouldn’t take her to some back-alley dump."

I was trying to get over Celia, but somehow this seemed to open up the wound and I felt the hurt all over again. Celia had been my idol, my beautiful bouncing sweetheart, so full of joy and bright potential. My dreams of a vanilla marriage in our little church, two virgins chaste until their wedding night, had been dashed into a million pieces that afternoon in the storeroom. My whole world was unraveling now.

Later that week Larry grabbed me at recess.

"Well I found three clinics in Cancun, so it could be any one of them."

"Does it really matter?" I asked.

"No, I guess not, but this one clinic specializes in all kinds of body modifications."

I saw the hint of a mischievous smile on Larry’s face.

"Body modifications?"

"Yeah, they do all those piercings and body jewelry and stuff. But this place goes a lot further. They even do penectomies and castrations. There’s a whole underground culture that’s into that stuff, man"

"Cool!" I said, feeling a queasy churning in my gut. "That’s too weird!"

"Mike…? Larry paused thoughtfully. "You know how it feels when you’re wearing a gaff, and you want to do it, but you can’t?"

"Yeah." I managed a smile, but my guts continued to churn with that queasy feeling. I thought I knew where Larry was heading.

"Well, have you ever thought about getting it done for real?"

"Getting it done?"

"You know, having your dick cut off. Then you wouldn’t need the gaff. It would just be the real you."

"No… not for real I guess. Who would really want that?"

"I’ve been thinking about it, man. I know I’m not the only one. Lot’s of guys go down there and have that done."

"Why?"

"I don’t know, man. Why is wearing the gaff so much fun? Have you ever pretended that you didn’t have a dick?"

The bell rang and interrupted our conversation. I returned to class with a budding erection and a queasy feeling in my gut. For me, a trip to Mexico alone seemed so far out of the realm of probability that thoughts of getting a penectomy there were still safely nothing more than fantasies. However, I wondered if Larry might actually go through with something like that. I found that thought strangely erotic and I was even a little envious.

In mid-February Celia returned to school. She seemed rather subdued, not her usual bubbly self. The official word was that she had contracted a stomach virus in Mexico and it had left her a little under the weather. Celia also began dressing more conservatively. She didn’t wear the long pilgrim-dresses worn by members of some conservative sects, but she dressed more conservatively than in the past.

Larry and I hadn’t said a thing. We’d kept our little speculation strictly to ourselves. However, others at the school had no doubt arrived a the same conclusion. It wasn’t long until rumors were buzzing all around the school about Celia’s abortion. Darrell was only one of several names, all jocks, that were rumored as a possible father.

Near the end of the spring semester we all received the word that I had both feared and expected. Celia’s family was moving to another city, somewhere on the West Coast. After that spring I would never see her again. I knew this was best for her and her family, and it was probably better for me as well. That spring I would have gladly married Celia even if she had slept with every other boy in the school. I did, however, have a firm enough grip on reality to realize I couldn’t possibly have supported a wife. This is probably all that saved me from making an utter fool of myself in front of my family and the community.

In keeping with our tradition Larry and I chose our "panty day" for the last week of school. It was on that day the he informed me of his decision.

"Well, I’ve decided to do it," he said, "next year after we graduate."

"Do what?"

Larry smiled. "Have a penectomy."

"Come on, man, you’re not serious?"

"Yep, I’m gonna do it. But like I said, next year after we graduate. I’m gonna start keeping a diary today and count how many times I shoot off during my last year."

"That’s crazy, man! You’ll change your mind."

Larry only snickered.

Chapter 13

As part of keeping up my studious facade, I took advantage of a program that allowed me to complete some of my freshman-level college courses during that summer. I kept hinting at my dad that I needed a computer, but his mind was set against having one in the home. I knew when to back off.

Larry arrived on campus that fall driving a late-model two-door sports coupe. I knew he didn’t make that much money at Fast Jack’s Hamburgers and I figured his mom and step dad had pitched in to help with that. I was also reminded that I was now eighteen years old and still rode a bicycle.

"Say, dude, those are sharp wheels! They must have made you manager down at Fast Jack’s."

Larry laughed. "Manager? Shit! Manager don’t pay nothin’. I quit Fast Jack’s, man."

"What, are you dealin’ now?" I laughed.

"Oh, you might say I’m dealin’, but not what you think. I just found a job that pays better. I can get you in on it too as soon as you learn, man. It’s not hard."

I had no idea what Larry was talking about. "What kind of job?" I asked, somewhat apprehensively.

"Making web pages, man."

"Web pages?"

"Yeah, you’d be surprised how many businessmen, doctors, dentists, and lawyers don’t know jack shit about computers. Most of those guys grew up before computers. Commercial web site builders charge these guys five to ten grand to build them a web site, like it’s really hard to do. They go ape when they find out I can build them a better site for one-third the money. It’s easy money, man!"

I was interested. The possibility of becoming financially independent of my parents excited me. I was pretty sure of getting a scholarship, but that wouldn’t be enough to pay for everything. I wanted to go to the University with Larry and my parents wanted me to attend the local college where I could live at home. I knew their subtle motive was to control my sex life, essentially insuring I didn’t have one.

I spent every spare moment that fall learning the html code and the other web-page-building programs Larry showed me. I was able to use the school’s computers during study period and I spent as much time at the public library as I possibly could.

It wasn’t until after New Year’s that I was able to produce a commercially salable product. Then the jobs - and the money - began to come in. It was April when I broke the news to my parents that I would be going to the University, not the community college, beginning in the summer semester.

My parents were adamant and wouldn’t hear to me defying their wishes. Unpleasant though it was, the breakup was necessary and expected. I found myself thrown out in the street and immediately lost my job at the Christian book store (it was taking too much time from my programming anyway). My parents had no idea I had been moonlighting with html code.

I was looking for a place to rent for the few weeks until I moved into the University dorm. However, Larry’s mom and stepfather said since it was only for a few weeks I could move in with them. I was elated. I would be spending the night at Larry’s for the first time since seventh grade.

Regina and Ralph, Larry’s mom and step dad were really cool. I had always heard lots of bad stories about stepfathers in general - bad stereotype I guess - but I really liked Mr. Tuddle. Mike and Nicole just called him Ralph. He was cool with that. I also realized I had never heard Larry’s mom called anything but "Mom" until now. Regina was a pretty name and she was such a pretty woman.

This certainly wasn’t the same old house where I used to visit Larry. It was their remodeled Victorian home. The place was practically a mansion! I was impressed. There were five upstairs bedrooms. Two of these belonged to Larry and his sister, Nicole. Ralph and Regina had their master suite on the ground floor.

Three upstairs bedrooms remained unfinished and they moved me into one of these. Mr. Tuddle set up a cot and moved in a couple of chairs and an old dresser. I was grateful. All I had was what few clothes I had managed to cram into my one suitcase, the one I used to take to church camp. I managed to salvage my gaffs, but my girlie magazines were left behind in their hiding place.

Nicole was sixteen now and she seemed all grown up. I remembered when I used to stay at Larry’s she was just a kid. She looked a lot like her mother and was very beautiful with dark auburn hair. However, Nicole and Larry must have both inherited their freckles and hazel-green eyes from their father. Their mother had a smooth complexion and dark brown eyes. Having Nicole’s bedroom just across the hall from mine caused my mind to spin with forbidden erotic thoughts. I knew I should put them out of my head.

When upstairs, Nicole wore an assortment of loose-fitting silk pajamas with kimono-type robes. Tasteful, yet conservative. I was rather thankful she didn’t dress provocatively. I didn’t need the temptation. I didn’t want to do anything that would mess up my good deal here. I had resolved early-on not to come on to her.

I attended a dance recital with Larry and his family and I was overwhelmed by the bevy of beautiful girls I saw there. There were about twenty girls and only four or five boys. Of course only about a half-dozen of these girls were of Nicole’s age or older. But Larry was the only boy in that age group.

"Say, man. You ought to have a girlfriend in that group," I said, pulling Larry aside after the recital.

"No, not really," Larry replied, then a grin slowly came across his face. "Well, maybe, sort of. Three of them are Nicole’s friends and they come over to the house all the time. They like me okay, but maybe not as a boyfriend. It’s always hard to tell what a girl’s thinking. You know what I mean?"

"I hear that!" I said.

"I’m not like Pierre, our little Casanova. He graduated and moved on last year, but all the girls thought the little bulge in his tights was so damned cute. Whenever he was around, they just got giddy and silly, like they didn’t have a brain in their heads. Doing it with him is probably all they could think about. I think he got one girl pregnant and she had to drop out."

"That’s got to be the pits," I said.

"But you know," Larry continued, "Nicole’s friends are always having me zip up their leotards and their body suits, or asking me how they look in some sexy outfit, or getting me to run little personal errands for them. They even like for me to help them exercise, you know, hold their legs and stuff, and help them keep their balance."

"They must know they’re driving you wild." I was beginning to get a boner.

"Sure. At first I thought they were just being teases, and maybe that’s part of it, but there’s more to it than that. I don’t think the girls really know what they’re doing. You know, they don’t sit down and think about it or plan it. It just comes natural. It’s like they’re trying to be sexy without having sex. They want me to notice and feel how sexy they are, but they don’t really want sex."

"It sounds like teasing to me," I chuckled.

Larry grinned. "I know, but I’ve talked to Ralph about it. He’s too cool, man. Did you know he used to be a counselor at a big high school back east before he bought the dance studio?"

I was surprised. I just shook my head.

"Anyway, Ralph says that what girls are really looking for is intimacy and companionship. They want somebody they can trust. That’s more important to them than sex."

"I’m not sure I buy that. Remember Celia. Intimacy wasn’t on her mind that day!"

"I know, but girls relate to different guys in different ways. Ralph says guys like Darrell and Pierre are kind of like the roller coaster at the carnival. They’re a fun ride for a little while, but the girls get tired of them. For the long term, girls want a guy like the family car - solid and dependable. The older and more mature women get, the less they want the roller coaster."

"It sounds like a fancy way of saying that if you’re not a stud, you won’t be getting any. If you’re a nerd, girls will like you for everything except sex!"

Larry laughed. "Sort of, I guess. But girls like for nerds to think of them as sexy too. That’s why they seem to be teasing so often when they really don’t mean to be teasing. They don’t want us to be just another girlfriend. They want us to appreciate them for being sexy, but they don’t want us to come on to them like Darrell or Pierre."

"You mean they don’t want us doing things like getting pussy!"

"Maybe." Larry laughed again. "But maybe they’re promising something more. Ralph says you can only experience true sex once you’ve moved beyond the physical and into the mental and emotional level. There sex becomes almost spiritual. Once you’ve experienced that, physical sex, you know, getting pussy, seems too crude. It’s like trainer wheels. The jocks and the studs can never experience higher sexuality because they are hung up with the physical act."

I was listening, but it still seemed like a way for nerds to rationalize that not getting pussy was a good thing.

"You know," Larry continued, "Ralph was telling be about the olden times when kings and sultans had hundreds of wives. They couldn’t have much of a relationship with any of their wives. They would just dart into the harem and get their rocks off, then be gone. It was kind of like going to a brothel. It was actually the eunuchs who had the meaningful relationship with the women of the harem. Even though they had their sex organs removed, it was the eunuchs who got inside the women’s heads and shared their emotions. They shared their world. The sultans couldn’t do that."

I was still skeptical, but a queasy feeling came up in my gut. What Larry described seemed to closely approximate scenes played out in my masturbation fantasies. I had often wondered if my fantasies about being a dickless sissy slave weren’t just a way of rationalizing my own sexual inadequacy.

I was about to respond to Larry’s statement when we were suddenly interrupted. It was Nicole and three of her friends. They were all wearing skin-tight shimmering metallic stretch leotards underneath their dance tights. Two of the girls seemed a little older than Nicole.

"Hey, gang!" Nicole called, "I want you to meet Mike. He’s Larry’s friend."

"Ohooo! I’ve heard a lot about you." A tall green-eyed brunette in metallic blue leotards extended her hand toward me. "I’m Renee."

"And I’m Serena," said a gray-eyed blonde. She was wearing gold leotards and bore a haunting resemblance to Celia. Serena had the same full-figured, but muscular build. However, her eyes were gray, not blue, and she lacked that bubble-head, cheerleader exuberance. Serena seemed more thoughtful, and perhaps even a little introspective.

"And I’m Tiffany," said the younger girl. "I’ve seen you at school. I’m in Nicole’s class." Tiffany had long brownish-blond hair and large brown eyes. She was shorter and of slighter build than Nicole. I thought her shimmering green leotards and silver tights made her look like a little elf. She was very cute.

"We’re seniors," said Renee, "but Serena and I go to private school. That’s probably why we’ve never met. Are you going to be at the party Friday?"

"Party?" I was clueless.

"Oh, he’ll be there," Nicole bubbled. "He’s living with us now - for the next four weeks!"

The girls all looked at me, smiled impishly and giggled, like they knew some secret and I didn’t. I felt like some kind of captive prey.

After the girls left, Larry pulled me aside and explained about the party.

"Mom and Ralph do this once a month," he said. "They have an adult party in the basement. They don’t want me or Nicole to get in on it until we’re twenty one. They say eighteen isn’t old enough. Since the other girls’ parents attend the party the girls just bunk over with Nicole."

I was a little shocked. "Do they… ah… trade partners or…"

Larry was grinning. "No, it’s not a swap club."

I was still standing there clueless as ever.

Lowering his voice, Larry put his mouth near my ear. "You know those magazines - that B&D and S&M stuff? That’s what they do at the party!"

Chapter 14

"I’m sorry I can’t show you the whole basement," Larry said, "but everything past that door is off limits. I don’t even have a key. It’s like a club. Only members can go in."

The room we were in looked like a large living room or perhaps the lobby of a small hotel. There were three sofas and several large overstuffed chairs. There was even a wet bar and coat check room. Opposite the bar a big-screen television was connected to a VCR and a DVD player. This large, well-appointed room occupied only about one-fourth the basement area of the huge Victorian home. The rest of the rooms lay behind the forbidden door by the bar.

"Have you ever been in there?" I inquired, gingerly.

"Not when members were here. Just when it was empty.

"I’m not supposed to tell what’s in there, but you probably have a good idea from looking at those B&D magazines. That’s the dungeons, man, and that’s all I can tell you. Everything you’ve seen in those magazines is in there, and more!"

We returned to the first floor and the first guests arrived within the hour. They were Master Sargon and Madam Jezebel. I didn’t know if those were their real names, but they were Renee’s parents. This couple arrived early as they would be greeting the other guests at the door tonight. As soon as Renee connected with Nicole both girls bounded upstairs.

The two adults were both overly made-up. They looked more like they were going to a costume ball. (Of course this was my first time to see a BDSM party.) Master Sargon had on a dark suit and looked more like Count Dracula without fangs. Madam Jezebel, a tall green-eyed brunette like her daughter, looked like a sexy, but evil, Halloween witch. She was wearing far too much eyeliner and eye shadow (on purpose I presumed) and her fake eyebrows extended upward high on her forehead.

Madam Jezebel’s long black satin dress fell just below the top of her high-heeled black leather boots. The split up one side of her dress revealed dark pantyhose and a teasing glimpse of her bright red tights. She was holding a riding crop. I gasped aloud as I contemplated what devilish delights must be in store for some poor wimp who would fall under her power tonight.

Larry and I were sitting in the parlor surfing the internet on one of their computers (they owned five, not counting laptops).

"We can just hang out here til the girls all get here," he said, "then we can go upstairs."

I was more fascinated by the party guests who were arriving than anything on the internet at that moment. Subtle, informative whispers from Larry clued me in on who were the subs and the dominants. Some, like Sargon and Jezebel were obvious dominants, others weren’t so obvious.

Larry’s mom was a dominatrix (I would have figured as much). I only got a brief glimpse of her in her black leather tights and high heels before she descended into the basement to become queen of her underground realm. She is a stunningly beautiful woman and the sight of her in that garb simply made my balls turn to jelly!

Ralph was a sub. Larry said, as a rule, husbands and wives don’t top and bottom for each other. It’s more erotic to be dominated by a stranger. I also learned that many of the male subs were… well they didn’t call them paying guests, but they gave generous gifts to their dominatraces. There always seemed to be a shortage of female dominatraces and an over abundance of male subs in the scene.

Serena arrived, not with her parents, but with her twenty-five-year-old sister and brother-in-law, Gayle and Ritchie. As far as Larry knew, Serena’s parents weren’t into the scene and didn’t know their daughter, Gayle, was into it either.

Gayle looked like a tall lanky version of Serena. She had the same blonde hair and gray eyes, but she was at least six feet tall - Larry told me six-one. I figured her for a domina but Larry said she was a switch. Gayle would play either role. She was wearing a long gray coat. In the warm spring air its purpose, like a flashers raincoat, was obviously for concealing what was worn underneath.

She recognized Larry across the room, smiled and opened her coat, shooting a quick flash in our direction. She revealed bright red tights over alligator pantyhose and the ends of her breasts were protruding obscenely through large openings in her bustier. I felt a ping in my pants as my member quickly came to life.

Her husband, Ritchie, who was a good four inches shorter than Gayle, was a sub.

"There’s a story about Ritchie," said Larry. "I’ll tell you about him later."

Finally, little Tiffany arrived with her mom. They were another look-alike pair - long brownish-blonde hair and big innocent brown eyes. Tiffany’s mom was a petite woman, definitely the shorter of the two. She was also a sub.

After Tiffany’s arrival Larry and I went upstairs and joined the others. There was an open sitting room with a balcony overlooking the ground-floor parlor. In addition to chairs and a couple of sofas it was equipped with a big-screen television, DVD player and video games. The girls were gathered there, dressed casually in blue jeans and sweats, nothing particularly provocative or sexy.

"Ohooo! I almost forgot," Renee exclaimed. "We’ve a new boy to play with tonight.

"Now be gentle with him, Renee," said Serena, giggling. "We don’t want to scare Mike off."

"Don’t worry, Mike," Nicole giggled. "We’re not that bad!"

The girls all giggled and looked at me in a manner that seemed to say, "Yeah, right!"

Suddenly I heard footsteps on the stairs. I looked around to see Madam Jezebel ascending the stairs. With each step her black satin dress flared open along the split giving a brief flash of a long shapely leg. She was still holding the riding crop. Madam Jezebel started to address us as a group, halted, then looked straight at me and smiled.

"Well, well! Who have we here?"

"We’ve got a new fish, Mom," Renee chortled.

Jezebel cast her daughter an admonishing glance.

"I… I’m Mike," I blurted, rising to my feet. "I’m staying with Larry until school’s out. We’ll be going to the University this summer."

"You’re eighteen?" Jezebel asked, expectantly.

"Yes… ma’am."

Madam Jezebel smiled at me with predatory fascination.

"So, a new hatchling comes of age!" Resting one of her leather-booted feet on the coffee table, Madam Jezebel’s dress parted along the slit. The luster of her light skin glowed iridescent beneath the gossamer texture of her dark nylon pantyhose. Her bright red satin tights emerged from the mysterious shadows of her dress like a beacon of forbidden sensuality.

"My little man," she said, pensively, "it’s too bad that Ralph and Regina won’t let you play until you’re twenty-one, but that’s house rules and we must abide by them. Perhaps in the greater scheme it is wiser after all.

"But know this, my young friend; if you stay with us - become one of us - you will someday come to know ecstasy as few have known it. You will open doors to your own sexuality you never knew existed and you will experience sensuality beyond your wildest dreams!

"For now, observe, learn, and dream. Never be afraid to dream. Each man and woman’s sexual destiny lies on its own path. You must search - experiment. And when you have found your path you will know it. Do not be afraid or ashamed to seize the moment!"

I was gasping in mesmerized astonishment. I couldn’t have spoken a word at that instant. I also had a huge boner that I knew was visible through my jeans.

Madam Jezebel laughed in a manner that signaled her mind had returned to the mundane world at hand. Removing her foot from the table, her black satin dress once more enshrouded her beautiful legs in tantalizing shadows, allowing only teasing, intermittent glimpses as she moved.

"Well, before I was so charmingly distracted by young Mike, here, I was going to inform all of you that the pizzas have arrived. There’s plenty in the kitchen, so help yourselves. Some of our guests won’t be eating tonight. There are simply some activities which don’t go well on a full stomach - if you know what I mean."

Madam Jezebel gave an naughty cackle then turned toward her daughter.

"Renee, darling, I want you to be gentle with Mike. We don’t want to frighten a budding young… And what’s so funny?"

Serena was giggling. "I told her almost those same exact words just before you came upstairs."

All the girls giggled and Jezebel let out a cackle that was absolutely wicked.

"You know my daughter well, Serena," she said, still chuckling. "Renee, darling, that’s all the more reason to heed the warning."

Madam Jezebel turned to leave, but paused at the head of the stairs and looked back at us. "I was going to say, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, but that would be bad advice. Just behave yourselves, that’s all." With that, she let out a demented cackle then briskly descended the stairs.

I suddenly noticed Renee smiling and staring at my boner so obviously that it focused everyone’s attention on it. The girls all began to laugh.

"Say, I don’t know about you guys," said Larry, "but I’m heading down to the kitchen to grab some pizza!" I was grateful for his effort to extract me from my embarrassing predicament.

We charged down the stairs with the girls still giggling and making small talk. Munching on pizza and soft drinks we discussed which movies we would watch tonight. Naturally the girls outvoted me and Larry and chose a chick movie. I would never have went to see this movie on my own and I doubt if Larry would have either. Well, at least it was one Larry and I hadn’t seen before.

I was suddenly overcome by a sense of eerie unreality. There was a BDSM party going on in the basement, and here we were; boys and girls between sixteen and eighteen years old, behaving like a bunch of kids at a church social. No drugs, no booze, not even serious profanity. What was wrong with this picture? Hell, I’d seen class parties at school get wilder than this!

However, there was an undeniable sexual undertone to everything that went on here. It permeated the house, Larry’s family, the guests, the girls - everything. It wasn’t the porno-flick, fuck-and-suck, cum-in-your-face type of sex. It was far more subtle, ethereal, mysterious. Sexuality hung in the air like a beguiling fog, its haunting promise of sensual ecstasy hanging just out of reach, but ever present. It seemed to create its own space apart from the mundane world. A place out of time.

Not physical, but cerebral and emotional sex was the glue, the common bond, that held this group together. They were like a cult; perhaps they were a cult. All these years I had been Larry’s friend and slowly watched this world evolve about him, but I had remained among the mundane, on the periphery of this world. The sexual fantasies of my entire youth had been but titillating glimpses of a higher reality - an unfulfilled promise, beckoning.

I suddenly felt lonely and insecure. I wanted to belong, to be accepted, in this group. My greatest fear at that moment was of rejection. I feared that somehow I wouldn’t fit in. In my heart I knew I was one of them. I wanted to shout it out - my soul cried for acceptance!

"Say people," said Renee, "before we start the movie I want to slip into something more comfortable."

Amid a chorus of me-too’s, the girls bounded into Nicole’s bedroom. As far as I was concerned the girls looked pretty comfortable in jeans, sweats and stocking feet. I realized that getting more "comfortable" probably meant "sexy" and I wasn’t about to complain!

"Say, man," Larry said, softly, leaning close to me. "Do you have a gaff?"

"Sure… yeah… I brought them."

"Be sure and wear one." He was smiling impishly.

Chapter 15

I was not at all surprised that Larry and I finished dressing before the girls. Larry had changed into a pair of black leotards that looked like skin-tight stretchy coveralls. He was obviously wearing his gaff because there was no visible trace of male equipment between his legs.

All I had was a pair of flannel gym shorts to slip on over my gaff. Not very sexy, I thought. That and a T-shirt completed my attire. I felt underdressed. Actually, I realized I was lucky to have gotten away from home with as many clothes as I had.

When the girls emerged from Nicole’s bedroom it looked like a parade of lingerie models from Victoria’s Secrets or Frederick’s of Hollywood. From the smiles on the girls’ faces I’m sure they could read my thoughts. However, there would be no embarrassing boner this time. My gaff had me firmly held in check.

Nicole stuck the movie in the DVD player and started it. We decided to let it run through the previews while we got settled in. We were in no hurry.

Nicole was wearing a delicate red negligee with matching red panties. She seated herself near the arm of a sofa opposite Tiffany. Both girls then stretched out facing each other, allowing their legs to intertwine so they each rest their head on a sofa arm. Tiffany was dressed in a very sheer, pale blue, one-piece body suit that glowed with a turquoise iridescence against her well-tanned legs and arms. I thought Tiffany and Nicole looked very cozy, cute, and sexy.

Like an idiot, I plopped down in one of the large overstuffed chairs, guaranteeing that I would sit alone. Well, at least the chair was comfortable!

Larry sat on the other sofa, next to one arm. Serena and Renee slid in next to him with Serena sandwiched in the middle. Serena was wearing a white, one piece suit - nightie or just underwear, I couldn’t tell. It had large lace areas that allowed lots of her soft skin to show through. Renee was wearing a negligee and matching panty similar to Nicole’s except it was black.

The movie started, and as usual with chick flicks, I enjoyed it more than I thought I would. There were lots of places to laugh and lots of places to cry. It was one of those emotional roller coaster themes so popular in chick movies.

About half-way through we paused for a brief intermission (restroom break actually). Returning to our seats, Serena stretched out, placing her feet in Larry’s lap and her head in Renee’s. They looked very comfortable and cozy. I guess I was actually a little envious. However, I realized it had been my own stupid idea to grab this chair before I thought.

Suddenly, we heard footsteps on the stairs. It was Gayle. She had dispensed with her coat. Her red tights and three-inch heels were now her primary attire. Her black alligator hose were held up by a garter belt, exposing several inches of creamy flesh between the top of her hose and the black lace trim on her red tights. Of course the feature that had me dumb struck was her nipples and areola protruding arrogantly through large openings in her bustier.

"I had a few spare minutes, so I thought I would make sure everything was okay up here," she said.

"It’s okay Sis," said Serena, giving Larry a playful jab in the crotch with her heel. "He’s gaffed."

Gayle giggled.

Suddenly Renee swung around and looked straight at me, smiling, with her penetrating green eyes.

"What about you, Mike? Are you gaffed?"

"Ye… yes. I’m… I’m wearing a gaff."

Without hesitation, Gayle reached down and pulled the waistband of my gym shorts down to inspect my attire. I gasped in both embarrassment and astonishment as I looked up to see a pair of big pink nipples and areola practically poking me in the face.

"How cute," she remarked, letting my waistband snap back with an audible pop. "Do you take dance? I haven’t seen you around the studio."

"N… no," I sputtered.

"Well, where on earth do you use a gaff? That’s certainly not a part of the average boy’s wardrobe." Gayle’s gray eyes were dancing with inquisitive mischief.

"I… I don’t know. I just have gaffs."

"Gaffs? More than one? Really?"

I nodded my head.

Gayle had me like a fish on a line and she knew it. She seated herself on another large overstuffed chair near the television, essentially sitting across from us. Hooking the crook of her knee over one arm she purposely gave me a splendid view of her soft inner thighs.

"So you like to play?" she continued. "I think that’s wonderful!"

"Play?" I was confused.

"Yes, you’ve been playing in the scene and I’ll bet you didn’t even know it. Playing with gaffs is a form of chastity play. I think it’s a great way for young people to start out. It’s perfectly safe and chastity is also a very good idea at your age." She laughed smugly.

I noticed Serena had now sat up on the sofa and everyone in the room seemed to be smiling and staring at me.

"Yea, but it’s a bitch to have to take these things off to go to the bathroom," Larry said.

"Would you rather be fitted with a permanent chastity device?" Renee asked, grinning impishly. "Those allow for biological necessities."

"But I hear those are hard to keep clean," Serena argued. "I think the best chastity is like Ritchie’s. You know I think Larry’s going to Cancun this summer. If he’s decided to have it done I be going with him. He’ll need me."

"Really, Larry? You’re going to have it done?" Gayle inquired.

Larry nodded his head.

"Does Regina and Ralph know about it?"

Larry nodded again. "Well, they know I’m going to Cancun and I think they sort of know what I’m getting done there. If it was up to them I know they’d want me to wait until I was twenty-one, so I’ve just never talked to them about it."

"Well, I’m sure you’ve thought it through, Larry" Gayle said, sounding more serious now. "It’s something that should be completely your decision. So I guess I should be offering my congratulations." Gayle smiled again.

"Thanks," Larry said. All the girls looked at Larry and giggled uneasily.

Serena put her arm around him supportively and gave him a hug. "Larry’s a brave boy."

"Ritchie’s thinking about going for his final mod this summer too," Gayle said. "Maybe we could all go together."

"That sounds like a great idea!" said Serena. "We can rent large suite and get a good rate. The more the merrier!"

Count me in!" said Renee.

I had almost forgotten. Larry had mentioned it during the last week of school last year. I pretty much took it for a joke. Surely he wouldn’t really go through with a penectomy. Perhaps I was jumping to conclusions. Maybe they were talking about something else.

"Well, I need to be getting back to my charges," Gayle announced, rising from her chair. "Say, are you guys making Mike sit by himself?"

I looked around awkwardly. Serena had settled in again, this time with her head in Larry’s lap and her feet in Renee’s.

"You can sit with us," Tiffany offered, gesturing toward the center of the sofa where she and Nicole were sitting. "Nobody’s sitting here."

I stood up, then hesitated.

"It’s okay," Nicole giggled. "You’re gaffed!"

I wasn’t sure it was appropriate. I looked nervously back toward Larry.

Larry shrugged and smiled. "You’re gaffed, man. So go for it!"

Seating myself between Tiffany and Nicole, I heard Gayle giggle as she descended the stairs. Nicole took the remote and restarted the movie. Immediately, she and Tiffany resumed their positions with their legs intertwined. Only this time my own legs were pinned beneath theirs. My hands had no place to rest except on their soft young thighs.

Continued in Part 4

Farrell Squire