Big Jim and Little Tim Ch. 04

Thick white streams of fluid shot out like cannon balls. The first one hit Jo on the ankle, she shrieked with delight, took a step back, tripped over the leg of the lounge chair, and tumbled over. There was nothing subtle about her panty exposure this time. It didn't matter to James. He was too busy trying to extract every last drop of semen from his shaft. Like volcanic lava, it kept flowing, even after the major propulsions had ended.

From the ground, Jo looked up and laughed hysterically. She then applauded the men for a job well done. Yanka simply smiled.

*****

"You have to trust me on this one," Monica said, but it was hard for the men to do so. The first warning sign was when the crew pounded small spikes into the grass. The naked boys were then kneeling with their hands braced on the ground in front of them, and a rope around each ankle was being tied to the spikes. The distance between the spokes was carefully measured, and the boys' legs were spread as far wide as possible without causing permanent damage. No good can come from this thought James, thinking that he had sold himself cheap at $400 per day. Tim, on the other hand, was young, carefree and enthusiastic, but even he was concerned.

Legs secured, more rope was used to tie men's hands behind their backs. Now it was their shoulders and chin that were braced on the ground to support them. Duct tape was added across their mouths for good measure. Their legs secured, their arms tied behind their backs, unable to speak, their butts sticking out invitingly, the men were in as vulnerable a position as humanly possible.

The whip known as a cat o' nine tails got its name because it has nine thin straps of leather attached to it. When making contact with its target, the leather thongs, as the thin straps are called, flail in all directions, leaving a wide path of destruction. Once used by the British Navy as a form of punishment, it is a crude but effective method of dishing out punishment. But when in the hand of an experienced user, someone like Jessie, for example, it can tread a fine line between pain and pleasure. It can stimulate, invigorate, and humiliate, all at the same time. Someone like Jessie could slash your balls and not leave a trace. She could assault a penis and get it so aroused that the pain is soon forgotten. She could make a cock-head so sore that it would actually hurt to ejaculate, yet have it so stimulated that her captive begs for an orgasm. But Jessie wasn't here today. When in the hands of a novice, like Yanka, the cat o' nine tails was more like a hit-or-miss experience.

Not that Yanka was totally inexperienced. Last night she had given Pete all he could handle. He lay flat on the floor, stomach side down, while Yanka tattooed his back with the thin, leather straps, leaving a roadmap of destruction. Yet each blow got him more and more erect. Pete dug playing the role of captive, ever since he made the discovery that a whole new breed of women hitherto unknown to him - gorgeous, exotic women, enjoyed playing the dominant role. Yanka was one such woman. She had reached down under his body and pulled his cock backwards so that it was facing towards his feet. Since Pete was nine inches when he was fully hard, Yanka had a lot of cock to work with. The weight of Pete's body pressed against his stiff penis, putting it under a lot of pressure - good kind of pressure. The strokes of the whip were now stinging his buttocks, and each one put more strain on his cock, and the strain, the pressure, was bringing him closer to orgasm. One stroke aimed for the lower part of his buttocks went awry, and it caught him flush on his cock-head. Yanka was about to apologize for her errant aim, but it turned out that this stroke was the one that sent Pete over the edge, and his body shook and quivered with orgasmic pleasure as semen spilled out onto the floor. Using the toe of her boot, Yanka pressed Pete's erect penis against the floor and nodded approvingly as the remaining drops of sperm were squeezed out.

Overcome with lust, Pete rolled over, pinned Yanka down, tore off her panties, and...well, that's a story for another day.

"It looks like I got her just in time."

Big Jim and little Tim were wondering about the complexities of their situation when Jane's voice penetrated their consciousness. It was too much effort to look up, so James contented himself by admiring her freshly pedicured feet. Jane squatted down in front of James and lifted his head up - the better to make eye contact, though her main objective was to let him know that she was witness to his humiliating position, but this also put James in a direct line with her crotch. He saw tanned, firm thighs, the outline of a dress, and a triangle of her light tan panties. He recognized them; he had seen those panties before, they were like a familiar friend. James didn't think it was possible to get an erection from his bound position, but he was wrong. His gaze stayed with Jane after she stood up. She was wearing the new dress from the retro store that her mother had brought over yesterday. Maybe it was due to the angle of his vision, but there seemed to be something wrong with the dress. The hem appeared to be stretched out at the bottom - maybe it was old and threadbare - and it sat higher than it probably was intended to. The part of the panties that covered her crotch was visible, and James didn't think it was due to his looking up from the ground. This might be a legitimate wardrobe malfunction. The thought of Jane unintentionally exposing her panties for total strangers to see was stimulating his imagination, and he quickly got a fully developed, fourteen-inch boner. But due to his bound position, he was the only one who knew it.

They were ready to start filming. Tim looked uncomfortable, and with Monica's blessing Yanka kneeled down in front of him in much the same way that Jane had with James. The proximity of her vagina, her yellow panties; the knowledge that he existed in the same universe as this heavenly vision in black Lycra and white vinyl boots...that's all it took to soothe his jangled nerves. Tim quickly joined James as one of the boner boys.

"We got a lot to get through," Monica told her charges, "but it will end with two wonderful cum shots, and the end justifies the means." Words meant to put the boys at ease, no doubt.

As a reward for their cooperation, the boys got to see the ladies disrobe. The scene began with Jo and Yanka standing just a few feet in front of them as they removed their dresses. Despite the discomfort, both boys were happy to raise their heads in order to have a better view. Had it not been for the duct tape, everyone present would have heard Tim's gasp. It was almost impossible to imagine, but Yanka was wearing a bra. It was the best-concealed bra in wardrobe history. It didn't look like there was enough room inside the dress for an additional garment, but there it was, a white bra. Yanka's breasts were of modest size, but that mattered little to Tim; the bra had immortalized them. Tim had never been so horny in his life. Yanka looked positively bewitching in her white bra and yellow panties combination. She turned to the side and Tim could make out the shape of her butt cheek. It was round and taut and driving him crazy. Had he been able to speak he would have said something to Monica, because he could feel pre-cum seeping out of his pee-hole. Yanka seemed so nonchalant, so unaware of the impact she had on Tim, it drove him even crazier with desire.

Jo didn't look too shabby either. Her blue thong contrasted nicely against her alabaster skin. Her breasts were firm, unadorned with a bra. They were very plump. James guessed 34C, but what did he know? He was a panty pervert, not a boob man.

The ladies carefully tied their strap-on devices around their pelvises. Per Pete's suggestion, they were made of hard rubber, which was far more arousing than plastic or fiberglass. They were long and narrow, the better to probe and massage the prostate. The girls smiled as they walked around to the backsides of their helpless captives.

The next sensation the boys felt was the cool sensation of Vaseline being applied to their buttholes. Monica decided to have Tim serviced by Yanka. Perhaps he'd lose some of his ardor for her after she rammed him in the stern. Monica gave a silent hand-signal and the ladies began their penetration.

One camera was in front, capturing facial reactions, one was to the side, for a full angle view, and the third was positioned directly behind the girls, where it could capture the hard rubber as it committed its violation.

Tim lost his erection rather quickly. He had no idea how uncomfortable it was going to be. He couldn't complain, nobody would hear him. But at least he had the satisfaction of having Yanka perpetrating the humiliation. It meant little to him now, but someday it would probably be a masturbation fantasy.

Yanka seemed to enjoy her work, and she smiled for the camera as her pelvis inflicted its punishment on Tim's rectum. Jo was a little perplexed by it all, neither being the giver nor receiver held much appeal for her. But if this is what Monica wanted, then this is what Monica would get. Jo would much rather have been fucking and sucking. That was her specialty.

James' strategy was to suck it up and make the best of it. It wouldn't last forever, and Monica had promised that the scene would lead to an ejaculation. Patience was a virtue.

Monica called for a cut, thankfully, and the men were relieved. Their cocks were limp, but they were happy. They had survived the ordeal. But it wasn't quite over. Monica opened a case that contained numerous flogging and pain inducing instruments, and told the ladies that they could choose their weapon. Yanka went straight to the cat o' nine tails, but Jo hesitated before deciding on a paddle. Watching rom a distance, Pete winced. He called Monica over and suggested that Yanka work on James. Tim might not be able to handle the nine-thong whip, especially when wielded by a sadistic trollop like Yanka.

"You'd never know it from looking at her, but she likes to hurt people," he said.

"Really, you don't say? I thought you were going to tell me that she's late for church choir."

"Very funny. But if you want to keep your lover boy hungry...a word to the wise."

So Monica had the ladies switch. The cameras kept their positions, and when filming resumed Jo was smacking Tim hard on the butt with her paddle. His muffled screams either indicated great acting or great pain. Monica had instructed her to not hold back, to really hit him, so she did. After a few strokes she started to enjoy it, and before long was inflicting her damage with rapid-fire strokes. Tim's butt was turning bright red. It was burning too.

"Slow down, not so fast," Monica instructed. "Let him recover and prepare for the next one. A little pain will make him more submissive, she thought with satisfaction, and then he'll do anything I ask.

Yanka was whipping herself into a state of frenzy as she was whipping James. Her hair was flying and her bra-encased breasts were heaving. She wore a demented smile on her face. She really was a sadistic trollop. Pretty soon James' butt was bleeding. It looked really painful; it was really painful, but he was determined not to show it.

The men had suffered enough. Monica called for a halt. "Who's closest to coming," she asked? Neither responded in the affirmative, but James had the larger penis and the larger perversion complex, so Monica chose to start with him. His ejaculation would be easy. Just as she had done with Pete the night before, Yanka reached underneath and grabbed James's penis and drew it back behind him. Ordinarily the touch of her hand on his cock would have had a devastating effect, but Mr. Penis was slow to respond. Yanka tenderly massaged the underside of his shaft. As she knelt down to get closer to it her yellow covered butt tantalized the camera that was filming from behind her.

Yanka had a way with penises, and her massaging began to have a positive effect. Mr. Penis started to stiffen, and as it did, the laws of motion demanded that it spring forward, which Yanka resisted. Her tight grip prevented it from reverting to its natural position, and as she had it bent backwards the pressure and friction on James' shaft began to increase, especially at the base. Yanka smiled the smile of someone who knew that her labor would soon bear fruit, or in tis case, sperm. She nodded seductively - at whom, nobody knew, most likely the camera, but it could have been to her inner self; just an instinctive nod of someone who was good at their job and knew it. Her job, in this instance, was to make a man cum, and boy did she ever. The portion of her leg right above the knee became a semen receptacle, as James' spewed out seven or eight good-sized shots of white liquid. Yanka made no attempt to move; rather she was fascinated as the fluid slid harmlessly down to the ground. For good measure, she had dug her thumbnail into the bulging vein on James' shaft and was pressing firmly as her hand jerked, massaged and coaxed all the sperm out. James took a few short, hard breaths and then one long, slow breath. His body went limp. He was done.

Tim posed more of a problem. His penis wasn't long enough to pull back out from behind, Monica could have had Jo simply stick her hand underneath and stroke him off, but that would have obscured the cum shot, and Tim deserved his close-up. Instead she had his legs untied and had him stand, although his hands were still tied behind his back and his mouth was still covered with duct tape. Yanka came over and stood behind Tim, and used her hands to massage his shoulders and licked his ear with her tongue. That caused Tim to get hard again, although it was Jo's tongue that did most of the work. She did some torturous licking. Up and down she went along his shaft. Pausing under his cock-head Jo's tongue attacked Tim's most sensitive area.

"Finish him off," said Monica, and Jo inserted Tim's penis inside her mouth, her hand providing vigorous stimulation with short, quick, back-and-forth jerking. Even the duck tape couldn't hide the fact that Tim was moaning beyond belief. Yanka held him upright as a steady stream of cum splashed against Jo's face. Each blast made Jo jerk harder, the wetter her face got the wetter she wanted it to get. This was her moment, and she played it for all it was worth. She jerked his penis as hard as she could, even after the main explosions had ceased. She was going to make sure that her little Timmy was drained. By the time Jo had stopped jerking her face was smeared with Tim's not-so-subtle message of love. Yanka watched with fascination, as did Monica.