Bi-Sexual Male / 45
My parents were fanatically religious, and obsessed with the "sin of masturbation" so from the age of eight, I was subjected to harangues about the evils of "touching myself" until I had a hard job even urinating! I had stirrings at night, and weird dreams, woke up often with my "pee-pee" quite hard, and amazingly large. The indoctrination still held though, and I endured agonies of frustration, afraid to touch myself, and suffer all the terrible fates they had promised me.
My swollen flesh began to be noticeable, and I swore on the Bible I hadn't, wouldn't touch it, but they didn't believe me, and said they were going to seek help from their Minister! Now he was an overweight, smarmy man of about fifty, then, with a jovial face, and a constant smile that never reached his eyes. Oh, he would help, he told them, and suggested they let him have me over the summer school recess, for "religious instruction" which only someone of his stature could properly provide. Naturally they complied immediately, and my life changed for ever.
He had two sons, about fourteen or fifteen, and a nastier pair of bullies never existed. I shared their bedroom, with a sleeping-bag on the floor, and it wasn't long until I woke to find they had tied me into the "mummy-bag", at neck and waist, and the built in hood was drawn down so tight, the only opening was now about an inch or so, right over my mouth. They knocked me around like this, pushing, punching, kicking, as I writhed around helplessly in the heavy material. Then they would kneel over me, and ram their rock-hard cocks, as they called them, into my mouth, and slide them in and out, endlessly, as utter humiliation filled me, and I was crying, unseen, in shame and loathing, unable to do anything to stop them, as they took turn about, hour after hour, until hot salty slime hit the back of my throat, triggering a swallow reflex, and eventual withdrawal for a short period of time.
At that age, they were insatiable, and this was my fate every night, and sometimes an entire weekend, when their parents went on some kind of retreat, and left them in charge. Now, this was bad enough, but they unpicked some of the stitching at the zipper, at crotch level, and hauled my "goodies" as they called them, out into the open, and tied something round the roots, tight! So I was introduced to wanking, for the first time ever, and discovered that for some reason, I was indescribably sensitive, to this, and thus the forbidden fruits came to me,
despite my years of obeying parental threats and warnings.
They were tickled pink at the strength of my efforts to avoid being touched like that, and naturally redoubled their efforts, savoring my discomfort and protests. The awful thing was, this forbidden activity felt so good, I began to rationalize my "disobedience" - after all, it wasn't like I could have done anything to stop it, and I wasn't doing it myself - they'd never said anything about someone else doing it - anyhway I discovered that the more frantic my struggles and protests, the more intense their assault on my "fucking huge cock" as the brothers called it.
At night, with their parents close by, they arranged things carefully, so my mouth was full as they wanked me, effectively muffling my wails and groans, then they changed places, changed ends if you like.
There was a fine irony in the constant lecturing I got from their father, on the sins of promiscuity, while his offspring were "face-fucking" me constantly, hours on end, and wanking me to near insanity, slowly addicitng me to this behavior, beyond any possibility of redemption, I knew.
Then one weekend, the parents returned unexpectedly, and caught them at it! He banished them to the other end of the house, then, sighing with fake anger, blaming them as unruly discip[les of the devil, he gently began to wank me, with exquisite delicacy, rambling on about damage having been done, and too late to return to the status quo, and other cop-outs, leading up to HIS cock in my mouth!
It was an interesting summer, one I remember with great appreciation, as I wait for the brothers, now grown to adulthood, as I am, to return home after work, to resume their years-old assault on my willing body!
My swollen flesh began to be noticeable, and I swore on the Bible I hadn't, wouldn't touch it, but they didn't believe me, and said they were going to seek help from their Minister! Now he was an overweight, smarmy man of about fifty, then, with a jovial face, and a constant smile that never reached his eyes. Oh, he would help, he told them, and suggested they let him have me over the summer school recess, for "religious instruction" which only someone of his stature could properly provide. Naturally they complied immediately, and my life changed for ever.
He had two sons, about fourteen or fifteen, and a nastier pair of bullies never existed. I shared their bedroom, with a sleeping-bag on the floor, and it wasn't long until I woke to find they had tied me into the "mummy-bag", at neck and waist, and the built in hood was drawn down so tight, the only opening was now about an inch or so, right over my mouth. They knocked me around like this, pushing, punching, kicking, as I writhed around helplessly in the heavy material. Then they would kneel over me, and ram their rock-hard cocks, as they called them, into my mouth, and slide them in and out, endlessly, as utter humiliation filled me, and I was crying, unseen, in shame and loathing, unable to do anything to stop them, as they took turn about, hour after hour, until hot salty slime hit the back of my throat, triggering a swallow reflex, and eventual withdrawal for a short period of time.
At that age, they were insatiable, and this was my fate every night, and sometimes an entire weekend, when their parents went on some kind of retreat, and left them in charge. Now, this was bad enough, but they unpicked some of the stitching at the zipper, at crotch level, and hauled my "goodies" as they called them, out into the open, and tied something round the roots, tight! So I was introduced to wanking, for the first time ever, and discovered that for some reason, I was indescribably sensitive, to this, and thus the forbidden fruits came to me,
despite my years of obeying parental threats and warnings.
They were tickled pink at the strength of my efforts to avoid being touched like that, and naturally redoubled their efforts, savoring my discomfort and protests. The awful thing was, this forbidden activity felt so good, I began to rationalize my "disobedience" - after all, it wasn't like I could have done anything to stop it, and I wasn't doing it myself - they'd never said anything about someone else doing it - anyhway I discovered that the more frantic my struggles and protests, the more intense their assault on my "fucking huge cock" as the brothers called it.
At night, with their parents close by, they arranged things carefully, so my mouth was full as they wanked me, effectively muffling my wails and groans, then they changed places, changed ends if you like.
There was a fine irony in the constant lecturing I got from their father, on the sins of promiscuity, while his offspring were "face-fucking" me constantly, hours on end, and wanking me to near insanity, slowly addicitng me to this behavior, beyond any possibility of redemption, I knew.
Then one weekend, the parents returned unexpectedly, and caught them at it! He banished them to the other end of the house, then, sighing with fake anger, blaming them as unruly discip[les of the devil, he gently began to wank me, with exquisite delicacy, rambling on about damage having been done, and too late to return to the status quo, and other cop-outs, leading up to HIS cock in my mouth!
It was an interesting summer, one I remember with great appreciation, as I wait for the brothers, now grown to adulthood, as I am, to return home after work, to resume their years-old assault on my willing body!
