SOMETHING NEW TO TRY

SOMETHING NEW TO TRY


It was barely ten months ago when the lifestyle my wife, Karen, and I had been leading took a rapid turn in a new direction. As far as I'm concerned, and I think my wife would agree with me, the new vistas that opened to us have been so wonderful that I just wish we'd have done this years ago.

Interested yet? If so, then read on, because I'm about to describe what has been so different for us. Not interested in climbing out of the rut your sex life is in? Well, all I can say is, it's your loss, guys and girls. As for us, there's no turning back, and we're just fine with that.

First, some background:

Karen and two other young women had developed a close friendship during their college years, and when we got married right after graduation, then settled into our new jobs in Denver, her friends, Rachel and Melanie followed in our footsteps. They also got married, and like us, they found jobs here, and even bought homes in the subdivision where we live.

The three wives soon made it their practice to go out to lunch together every Saturday, while the other two husbands and I spent our Saturdays at a local golf course. In short, we were close friends with the other couples, and thought we knew everything there was to know about them. Little did we know, though, that we shared more with them than we'd thought.

It was a Saturday evening, as Karen and I were in bed and engaging in the usual foreplay preparatory to our accustomed sexual romp, when she whispered in my ear, "Honey, the girls and I talked about something today that's apparently making the rounds among people in our age group. None of us know if it's been around for years, or if it's brand new, but whatever . . . well, when Mel told us about a new website she'd visited all three of us thought it was something we needed to try, just to see if it'd spice up our sex lives. I think all of us know that after eight years of doing the same thing over and over, we're stuck in a rut."

I guess I must have made an encouraging grunt, hoping she'd let us get on with what we were doing, because I was right on the edge of cumming, and didn't welcome any interruptions, to say the least. Apparently, my wife didn't share my enthusiasm when it came to our usual lick and screw routine, because all she did was clamp her legs together just as I was in the act of getting on top.

"What she told us," she began, "was that she'd read about something called 'pegging,' and she wanted to try it with Donnie tonight. Have you ever heard of something called that? Do you know what it means?"

Since the only 'pegging' I'd ever done was when my ****** went camping and we fastened our tent to pegs we'd driven into the ground, I had no idea what Karen was talking about, and I told her so. She took over the conversation, and by the time she'd explained what the new definition of the word actually was, I was even more turned on than before.

"Well, what it refers to is . . . uh . . . well . . . it means that a woman wears a . . . a thing called a 'strap-on,' and she . . . well, she's the one in control and she has sex with a man, rather than vice versa. You know what I mean?"

I may not have been familiar with the new definition of that word, but I certainly knew what a 'strap-on' was, because it was mentioned a lot on most of the sex sites that I regularly visited when I was home alone. Calling that sort of thing 'pegging' sounded pretty strange to me, but it wasn't that much of a stretch to see how that definition came about: Instead of a tent stake being driven into the ground, a dildo was driven into a man's butt. Even better.

Actually, though, the main thing I was thinking about while she'd told me what the word meant was something that dated back to my boyhood years. Back then, one of my cousins, who was two years older than me, had introduced me to the most-exciting things in the world. He hadn't called it 'pegging,' but he had fucked me lots of time when we were both naked and I was on my hands and knees, while he was on his knees between my legs, doing what he always called, "using you like a girl."

The memories of all the other stuff he'd introduced me to when we were both boys were using nearly all my brain capacity when my wife's voice broke through my mind fog.

From far, far away I heard her ask, "Well, have you heard of that, or not?"

I was able to mumble something about driving tent pegs into the ground when we were camping when I was a kid, but that her definition was a new one on me. She wouldn't let me get of that easily, and continued telling about her conversation with her two friends.

"Mel told us that she'd made up her mind to try pegging Donnie tonight, just to see if it worked for them. Then, before I could think of anything to say, Rachel said anything new would be an improvement, because she and Brad were in the deepest rut in the world, when it came to sex, anyway. Then both of them just stared at me, and I knew what they wanted to hear, so I said I was game to try anything different, because you and I were right beside them in that rut."

She paused to draw a deep breath, then said, "So, after we finished lunch, the three of us went over to that adult store on Colfax, and the girl working there showed us all the strap-ons they had, and we spent a long time choosing the ones we wanted to use on you guys. Want to see the one I bought for you?"

I have no idea what I said, or even if I said anything at all, but apparently I did, because she reached up to turn on the lamp on her side of the bed, then opened the top drawer of the nightstand under it. As she reached into it she said, "I hope you like the one I picked out for you, Honey. These damn things cost an arm and a leg, so we'd better get lots of use out of it."

By then she'd taken something out of the drawer that just totally froze me in place, because it fit the main fantasy I'd had for at least five years, and probably longer than that.

What she held up so I could see it was nothing but a really-big, plastic cock. It was so realistic that it took me a long time to convince myself that it wasn't flesh and blood, but when she held it closer to me and whispered, "Feel it, Honey. I think it's just about as close to the real thing as they could make it," I was convinced.

I forced my fingers to touch the cock, and before I could make them stop they were caressing the head, then working their way down the shaft that was at least 8" long, then cupping the huge balls in the palm of my hand. When I was doing that she whispered, "Feel the things like stiff hairs on the back of its balls? Those are supposed to rub against my clit when it peeks out, and they're guaranteed to make me cum . . . which is something that's been pretty rare for the past three years. With you, anyway."

She gave me several seconds to explore the huge thing, then asked softly, "Do you like the color I picked out for you, Honey?"

I'd seen that part before the dildo was completely out of the drawer, and more than anything else, that's what had frozen my body in place, because the shaft and balls were both dark brown, and the head was a dark pink with brown freckles on it. I had been looking at images of black cocks for a long time by then, and I knew the person who'd designed my wife's new toy had made it so realistic that I had trouble believing it was made of plastic.

Then, before I could keep my mouth closed, I heard words flowing past my lips, and I was saying, "I love it. It looks so real." And then my fingers closed around the shaft and began to stroke it, and when she moved it closer to my head, I couldn't stop my lips from opening. And then she was pushing it inside my mouth and whispering, "Suck it, Honey. Show me how much you want it. Suck it just like you're going to do it to a real one someday."

Just as I'd been unable to keep my lips closed, so I couldn't stop my tongue from licking the huge head and shaft that she'd pushed inside my mouth. And all the time I was doing that she kept encouraging me and telling me how hot it was to watch me doing that, and how much she wanted to watch me sucking the real thing.

Then, almost as if she was tired of watching me humiliate myself, she pulled it out of my mouth while whispering, "I'm going to need your help with the harness, Honey. It's kind of tricky to get it strapped on just right."

She rolled over onto her back as she said that, and as she raised her legs off the sheet, she said, "It's kinda like putting on my panties. Just hold it below my feet, then get the cock on top and slide the two openings up my legs."

That part was pretty simple to do, even with fingers that were trembling with excitement, and in a matter of seconds I was moving the harness up her legs and centering the balls over her clit, which was already peeking out of its hiding place. After that it was a matter of adjusting the Velcro straps until the harness would stay where it needed to be, and then she was ready to do what needed to be done.


CHAPTER 2


I guess I was so anxious to try our new toy that I didn't think about an important part of the process, but luckily for me my wife wasn't as distracted. Just as I was expecting her to tell me to get on my hands and knees, she reached into her drawer again, and that time when her hand came out, it was holding the tube of K-Y Jelly. I should have thought of that part, because right from the first time my cousin and his friends used me like a girl, they always made me smear Vaseline on their cocks, and I knew the huge dildo my wife was going to use on me would cause far more discomfort than I felt when I was a kid.

Luckily, Karen knew what to do, and as she opened the tube of lube she said, "Don't want to forget this, do we, Honey? I'm sure you'll get stretched out after I peg you a few times, but right now you're probably pretty tight." As she squeezed a line of the stuff on her black cock, she said, "Spread it all over so it'll feel better for you. After all, this's supposed to be fun for both of us, isn't it?"

In about two seconds I'd done as instructed, and then I heard the command I knew was coming, because it's what I was always told to do all those years ago.

"Get on your hands and knees, Honey. We'll try some other positions once you get used to being fucked in your ass, but right now I think this way will be best. That's what the woman at the store said, anyway."

And then I was rolling to my stomach and drawing my knees under me at the same time as I raised my chest and put my arms under it. She was evidently waiting for me to assume that position, because my body had barely stopped moving before I felt the head of her cock pressing against that part of me that hadn't been violated like that since we got married.

Then, my mind became totally blank, other than the burning point of pain in my butt. The old sensations immediately came flooding back as she pushed with more and more strength, until at last the head was past my anal ring, and I was being fucked again, after all those years of missing it.

As she slowly stroked back and forth, Karen reached under my body and began to caress my dick and nuts. "I want this to be good for you, too, Honey. So I'll take it really slow the first few times. After that, I'm going to **** you as hard as I can, just to see if you love it as much as I hope you will."

I was already past the part where I was feeling the intense pain I experienced when I was fucked the first time ever, and the dildo was barely halfway inside me. That was when my hips began to rock back and forth, meeting her thrusts with my counter-thrusts, as I'd done all those years ago. Then, just as I was getting more and more turned on, she brought me back to awareness as she said, "Honey, I want you to tell me your hottest fantasy in the whole world. Tell me what really, really turns you on, and maybe if you're a good little boy, mommy can make it come true for you."

She had to encourage me by stroking my growing erection, but before she could ask me the second time to tell her my best fantasy, I started talking.


CHAPTER 3


"In my fantasy," I began, "I'm always walking down a street at night when an old van pulls up and stops beside me. The door right beside me slides back and two black guys grab me and pull me inside with them. They throw me down on the floor and hold me down with their feet as the door's pulled shut, and then the van takes off real fast.

"They don't tell me what's going on, but just keep pressing me against the floor while I get more and more scared all the time. After a long, long time the van slows down and turns, and then we're going down what's probably a gravel driveway. When we come to a stop about half a minute after turning into the driveway, the two guys help me get up on my knees and then hold me there while the door is pulled open by the driver. One of the guys tells me to yell all I want, but nobody will hear me since we're way out in the country at a marijuana farm they own.

"Once all of us are out of the van, they frog-walk me toward a big building while the third guy pulls a door open and waits for us to walk through it. After the door closes behind us, he flips a switch on the wall and lights come on, and all I can do is stand there unable to move as I see what's in the big room. When my brain finally understands what my eyes are telling it, I know that the things scattered around the floor are actually special types of machines, and then I just about pass out when I recognize them as stuff I've seen on internet sites that describe how people were tortured during the Inquisition.

"I can see a table that has large rollers at the head and foot, with ropes connected to them, and that tells me that it's a rack, like the ones where people were stretched until their arms and legs were pulled out of their sockets. Sitting a few feet away from the table is a large, wooden chair. I can see that the seat and back, as well as the tops of the arm rests, are covered with sharp-pointed metal studs, and I know anyone strapped down in the chair will feel intense pain as the points sink into his body.

"Toward the back of the room are two ropes hanging down from pulleys in the ceiling, and the cuffs in the free ends of the ropes tell me they'll be fastened around either my wrists or ankles. I know that when I'm pulled into the air my arms or legs will be pulled way out to my sides, spreading my body so it can be given more pain than I can even begin to imagine. The forge standing right beside the ropes, and the tools hanging on a wall rack, mean I don't have to guess what I'll feel when the three black guys use them on me.

"The last thing I see is an ordinary post with a single rope dangling from a pulley. I can't think of anything like that in the Inquisition sites, but before I have much time to think about it, the two guys let go of me and the other one says, 'Get naked, white boy. It's time for you to learn all about the whipping post. Move!'

"As my fingers start unbuttoning my shirt, that's apparently the signal the three of them have been waiting for, and they start undressing, too. All of us take off our clothes as fast as we can, and when they pull down their pants all I can see are their huge, hard, black cocks, all three of them three times bigger than my little dick. Their balls are so big that I know they're swollen with their cum, and they're going to make me swallow every drop of it.

The instant I'm naked, they grab my arms and pull me toward the whipping post. One of them says, "Hold out your arms with your wrists together," and I do. He wraps the end of the rope around my wrists, and almost before he has time to tie the knot, the other two guys are pulling the free end of the rope down toward the floor. My arms are pulled up above my head, and just when I think they're going to stop, they keep pulling until the only parts of my body touching the floor are the tips of my toes.

"After the rope is tied off so I can't get away, the three of them walk over to the wall, and each one of them takes a whip off a rack. I start whimpering then, because I know they're going to whip me just like their ancestors were whipped, and I know I won't be able to stand it.

"As I look over my shoulder, all three of them raise their whips above their heads, then before I can even start to beg, I hear the thongs whistle through the air, and then I'm screaming and screaming and screaming as the horrible pain spreads from my back and my ass and the backs of my legs all through my body. They whip me and whip me until at last their arms are too tired to do it any more, and all they can do is bend over with their hands on their knees and gasp for air while I sob and cry.

"After almost a minute, they stand straight again, and one of them says, 'Turn around, white boy. You have two sides that need to be whipped, you know.'

"I'm completely unable to move because of the pain, but when one of them says they'll castrate me if I don't do it, I finally find the strength to shuffle my toes and move my feet until after a long, long time I'm facing them. When they're satisfied with my position, one of them says, 'Now spread your legs, white boy. Get them as far apart as you can, and hold them there. If you close your legs in the slightest, we'll cut off everything you have between them. Move!'

"It takes every bit of my willpower to obey them, but at last my legs are so far apart that my toes aren't touching the floor anymore, and after they warn me again about closing my legs, they whip me. One of them starts with my hands and works his way down along my arms, while the other two start with my feet and work their way toward my knees. By the time the first one has whipped my armpits, the other two have finished with my knees and kept going up.

"And then the first one is whipping my stomach below my belly button and the other two are whipping my legs just barely under my little nuts. They stop whipping me while one of them says, 'Ask us to whip your useless junk, white boy. Tell us how much you want it. Do it!'

"Again I can't resist their orders, and I sob out, 'Please whip my little dick and my worthless nuts. Please whip them as hard as you can. Please!'

"All they do is smile really big, and then raise their whips as high as they can. An instant later the pain explodes in my crotch and then in every part of my body, and then I pass out."

And as I have done for years, at that point I couldn't stand the stimulation even one more second, and my balls emptied all over the sheet below me. And after that, I don't know how long it took me to come back to full awareness, but when I did my wife was lying beside me, hugging me as tightly as she could and kissing me so hard my lips ached.


CHAPTER 4


It took me a long time to respond to her kisses, then return them with just as much passion as she was giving them. Our hands roamed all over each other, until, that is, when one of mine worked its way down her body until it was barely above the plastic cock that had started the most-fantastic night we'd ever had.

Just as I was ready to close my fingers around the artificial cock, she took my hand in hers, then whispered, "It's all messy, Honey. If you want to play with my black cock, you have to suck it clean first."

Strange as it may seem, I was still so turned on by what had gone before that I never hesitated in the slightest to do what she'd told me to do. I just doubled over and scooted down far enough that the dildo touched my lips, and then they opened all by themselves, and for the first time in more than eight years, I once again had a black cock in my mouth, and I was licking and sucking it with all my strength.

Karen lay there quietly while I sucked her cock, but she must have become bored after a couple minutes. "I think you sucked it all nice and clean, Honey." She chuckled deep in her throat, then her voice almost hoarse with emotion, she rocked my world again when she said, "I've known you for long enough to know when you aren't telling me everything about your hot fantasy. So . . . spill the beans, Honey. Tell me all of it. And just in case you need the proper motivation to do that, I'll castrate you if your don't."

Even though she laughed as she said that last part, I could feel my little dick trying to get hard again as my brain fabricated image after image of her holding a knife against my ball bag, and then slicing away everything with a single jerk of her hand.

I tried to get out of making the horrible confession about the part of my fantasy I'd left out, but when she whispered, "Please, Honey, tell me what you left out. I love you so much, and I want to know everything about you. Please."

And that, rather than the threat, made me bury my face in her neck so she couldn't see my shame as I told her the rest of what I fantasized about.

"The best part of my fantasy comes when the black guys release me from the whipping post. My legs are so weak by then that they won't support my body, so two of them have to almost carry me over to something that looks like the sawhorses carpenters use. They make me stand facing it, and then they push me over it until my stomach is resting against the top board.

"When I'm in position, they pull my hands and feet down to the bottoms of the legs of the sawhorse, then fasten my wrists and ankles in place with the cuffs mounted close to the floor. One of them says, 'This'll probably be the best part for you, white boy. You're all queers, ain't ya? You like sucking black cocks while another one's pounding your ass, don'cha? Right?'

"I would have answered his questions, but right then one of the guys was forcing my lower jaw down, and as my mouth opens he shoves his huge cock inside it. All I can do is close my lips around it and make my tongue lick it as fast as I can. Just as I start doing that, I feel something pressing against my bottom, and then it's inside me, and then it's ****** me as hard and fast as the black man can thrust it back and forth.

"After a few minutes of ****** me, the guy says, 'Get outta the way! I'm gonna cum! Move!'

"The man in front of me pulls his cock out of my mouth at the same time as the one in back pulls his out of my bottom. And then they trade places, and they both put their cocks back in my body and I barely have time to suck and lick the one in my mouth before it's filling it with cum and I love the taste so much that I just want him to keep cumming forever, but then when he gets through and pulls out the guy that was ****** my bottom uses my mouth when he needs to cum and the third guy rapes me in back and then he uses my mouth . . . and . . . and . . . I never get past that point, because that's when I start cumming."

Karen had been hugging me tighter and tighter the more I told her about my fantasy, and shortly before I ran out of words she started humping my leg while her teeth sank into my ear lobe, sending stabs of pain through my head. Just as I reached the part about me cumming, her crotch forced itself against my leg with all her strength, and then he cried out, "Oh . . . Jesus . . . H. . . . Chris-s-s-s-s-t!"

In all the time we'd been having sex, I'd never known her to have such an intense orgasm, and my brain was spinning its wheels as it tried to come to terms with her being more excited than ever before when we'd had sex. At last my thought processes just shut down, and I lay there beside her, holding her close and caressing her breasts, hoping that would bring her back to reality.

I guess it worked, or at least something did, because not long after that her breathing slowed. She took one very-deep breath, then after she'd let it out slowly, she whispered in my ear, "Honey, that's the hottest thing I've ever heard. Thanks you, from the bottom of my heart, for being honest with me when you told me the rest of your fantasy."

We lay there quietly for what seemed like a long time, then she took another deep breath and after slowly exhaling, she said softly, "Since you were honest with me, I'm going to be the same way with you. I'm going to tell you about something else I've been talking about with Mel and Rachel.

And then it was my turn to listen to words that excited me far beyond anything I'd ever before known.


CHAPTER 5


"The three of us have been reading lots of stuff on the 'net that talks about something called 'White Extinction,' and it's kinda exciting to think about what other people are doing."

She paused then, evidently trying to get her thoughts together, before she continued.

"In case you've never heard of that name, what it means is that lots of people think the only way to get a handle on the race problem is for blacks and whites to interbreed so much that all the new babies will be a blend of both colors. It'll probably take a few years for it to happen, but once it does, then there won't be the difference in colors there is now.

"Mel has been pushing Rachel and me to go along with that solution, and we talked about it when we had lunch today, and all three of us agreed to try to do our part. And what that means is that we're going to stop letting our husbands fuck us, and instead have sex exclusively with black men."

By that point I was literally unable to breathe, and it took Karen's whispered, "Breathe, Honey," to make my lungs start working again. She gave me as much time as I needed to get back to what passed for normal right then, then continued telling me about what our new lifestyle would mean for me.

"You don't need to think you won't be having sex again, because that's not what's going to happen. You won't be having sex with me, of course, because I can't take a chance you might get me pregnant, but you'll have plenty of it with Donnie and Brad. Of course, when I bring black men to our bed so they can put their babies in my tummy, I'll want you here, too. And if the guys want to have sex with you, too, then I'll tell them you like both butt fucking and cock sucking, so they can use you for that part if they want.

"We haven't been talking about doing stuff to you like you think about in your fantasy, but now that I know how much you want it, and how hot it is to think about you being tortured like that, I'm going to tell the girls that we need to include stuff like that, too. Would you like us to do that, Honey?"

I did my best to force my throat to gasp, "Yes!" which must have satisfied her because she told me more about what was in store for me in the future. After pausing to catch her breath, she continued to do her best to kill me with excitement.

"I already know you want to be fucked by black cocks and make them cum in your mouth, but I need to know what you think about my part in everything. So all you have to do is answer this question for me so I'll know for sure." After clearing her throat three times, she asked, "Honey, do you want to watch me . . . watch your wife . . . being fucked by really huge and really black cocks? Would it turn you on to see black guys on top of me, with their cocks buried to the hilt in my pussy? Do you want that to happen for us?"

I know I was struggling to breathe so much that my answer was barely understandable, but I guess she got the gist of what I was saying, because as soon as I'd gasped out, "Please! I need that so much!" she whispered her reply in my ear.

"Mel's going to take care of that part, Honey. She told us at lunch today that she's been looking for black lovers for us for several weeks, and she finally found a place we can go to take care of that part. Of course, she didn't know about how fascinated you are with being tortured, especially between your legs, so I'll have to call her tomorrow and tell her we'll need to find blacks who'll do that for you. "

Then, before I could beg her to tell me more, she pulled away from me, rolled to her tummy, and said sleepily, "Now rub my back so I can get a little bit of sleep before the sun comes up."

So that's what I did, and when she fell asleep less than a minute later, I lay there in the pool of cum that had been in my balls a few minutes before, and replayed my fantasy over and over in my head until at last I joined my wife in Dreamland.


CHAPTER 6


I was alone in bed when at last I awoke to sunlight streaming in through the window beside the bed. After straining my ears to catch any sounds from my wife, but failing to hear anything at all, I tried to get out of bed only to discover that every hair on the front of my body was glued to the sheet under me. It took a while before I could separate myself from the sheet and head for the bathroom, but eventually I was able to accomplish that much.

As it had many years ago when I'd been fucked the day before, my ass ached, mainly in the spinchter that had been so painfully stretched just a few hours ago.
I did my best to ignore the pain and hobble to the bathroom, then resorted to the remedy I'd found on my own when I was a boy, which was to soak my bottom in hot water for as long as I could stand it. I don't know if it was because my ass still retained some memories from long ago, or if Karen had been more gentle with me than all the guys who had fucked me in my younger years, and then at the fraternity I'd joined, but whatever it was, by the time I'd soaked in the tub for half an hour I felt almost normal.

After I got out and toweled off, I spread my legs far enough apart that I could hold a hand mirror between them to see if there was any visible damage. When everything looked normal, I reached down with my other hand and very, very carefully inserted my middle finger in my ass, and was surprised to feel there was actually some resistance. I wouldn't have been the least bit surprised if my asshole had been gaping wide open, but I was happy to see that it wasn't.

Just as I put the mirror back in the drawer in the vanity cabinet, I had the sudden thought that maybe the black guys our wives found to fuck them would be twice the size of Karen's dildo, and when one of them fucked me I'd walk around like a bowlegged cowboy for the rest of my life. And then another random thought froze me in place, and all I could do was stare at my reflection in the mirror as I thought, "I wonder if Mel can find three black guys who'll make my fantasy come true." And with that thought echoing in my brain, I answered my question with, "I hope she does."

And then I got dressed and hurried to the kitchen so I could kiss my wife with every bit of passion I could muster.

However, the only thing waiting for me was a note on the kitchen table, which read, "I've gone over to Mel's house to talk about the arrangements for what we all want to happen. In the meantime, eat some breakfast, then get your lazy ass outside and mow and trim the lawn. I'm warning you that if it doesn't look the best it ever has when I get home you won't get off as easily as you did with the three black guys!"

And that's what I did, and I guess the lawn looked good enough to my wife when she got home, because all she said to me was, "Mel will give us all the details next Saturday night. In the meantime, none of us are allowed to have sex, and that means NO JACKING OFF! for you, Honey. Think you can do that? For me? Please?"

Well, what could I do but nod my head and answer, "I won't. I promise." And I didn't, but the lack of emotional release I was in the habit of giving myself two or three times per week was very difficult for me.

Time dragged by slower than it ever had in my life between Sunday and the following Saturday, and the effort it required during our regular golf game to not talk about the 800 pound gorilla we all knew was lurking behind us made our game forgettable in the extreme.

But, even with all that, eventually the time for our little group to convene in Mel's and Donnie's house was upon us, and Karen and I were walking up the sidewalk toward their front door at the appointed time. Donnie must have been watching for us, because before I could press the doorbell button, the door swung open and he invited us in. His words were exactly the same as they had always been when we visited, but just knowing that he was probably going through the same mental turmoil as I'd been in all week made the atmosphere emotionally charged.

And then we walked into the house, and if anything had ever been life-changing, that simple act certainly was.


CHAPTER 7


Rachel and Brad were already there when we walked into the front room, and nothing was said until my wife and I were seated on one of the pair of couches
that sat facing each other. Donnie gave us two of the glasses of wine that were sitting on the serving tray on the coffee table, and as soon as everybody else had their glasses, too, Mel cleared her throat and got right down to business.

"Thanks for coming, everybody," she began, "and since there's no need to repeat what all of us already know about our plans, I'll get right to the important part. I think you know I've been in contact with some people I heard about from one of my profs at DU, who's been my lover ever since the first day I walked into her class.

"She's the one who told me about the ongoing White Extinction movement, and how married couples all over the country are joining together to eliminate racial strife by eradicating physical distinctions like skin color. Anyway, the information she gave me led me to call a woman who's the leader of a local religious group, just a couple weeks ago. I'm sure everybody's heard of a religion in the Caribbean by the name of Voodoo, but rather than it being spelled V-O-O-D-O-O, it's spelled V-O-D-O-U. It's pronounced the same, so I guess the spelling doesn't matter all that much.

"The woman, whose name is 'Marissa,' holds the title, or maybe rank, I'm not sure which, of manbo, which stands for 'priestess.' She's the one who conducts their worship sessions and tells the members, the sevites, what to do at their services."

She paused to think about something for a few seconds, then continued, "I learned something from her the first time we met in person, and it's that the services they hold are strongly sexual in nature, although maybe not what normal people would think of as sex. By that, I mean the things she described to me are more like what you'd see in a XXX video, with lots of S&M thrown in for good measure, rather than in a religious service.

"To illustrate what she meant by that, she told me that an important part of their services is getting someone to talk in tongues, because that's how they receive the word of god. According to her, the best way to get someone to talk in tongues is to give that person lots and lots of pain, because that disconnects their mind from reality and allows them to see into other dimensions."

She gave us a long time to think of the implications of her words, then when she once again had our attention, she continued.

"Now, all that doesn't mean they don't have plain-old sex, because according to her everyone at their sessions gets lots and lots of the usual and accustomed sucking and fucking. Anyway, I think if the six of us attend one of their services, we'll get plenty of the stuff we need." She looked directly at me as she said, "When I told her about the perverted stuff you fantasize about, Jeff, she said giving you a full-body whipping until you pass out, then fucking your ass while you suck every black cock you can find is something they've been doing to white men for a long time. She also mentioned piercing, clamping, stretching, and burning, which should be right up your alley. As for Donnie and Brad, they both have lots of catching up to do before they'll be your equals, but I think we girls can help them do that."

Rachel nodded her head in agreement with that sentiment, and after brief smiles between the three wives, Mel went on with her explanation.

"Okay . . . so that should take care of any concerns we had about finding black men to cornhole and torture our husbands. So . . . on to more important things, such as finding black men who'll be glad to put their babies in our tummies. Marissa said there wouldn't be any problem with that sort of thing, either, because the male sevites have been impregnating white women for several years, and adding us to their harem won't be all that difficult."

She paused to catch her breath, then asked, "So . . . any questions? Anyone?"

Rachel timidly held up her hand, and at Mel's nod asked softly, "I was wondering about . . . uh . . . like . . . maybe . . . Well, you said they do all sorts of S&M stuff to men, but I was just wondering if they . . . uh . . . do that with women . . . too?"

Both Karen and Mel laughed, and the the latter said, "My goodness, Rach, are you still interested in breast suspension?" When Rachel dropped her eyes to the floor in embarrassment, then moved her head in a tiny nod, it made the other two women chuckle.

Mel then answered the hesitant question by saying, "I asked Marissa specifically about hanging women by their tits, because I knew you'd want to know if they'll do that to you. She told me they torture women almost as much as men, to get them to talk in tongues, so stretching your dairy pillows won't be a problem. Okay?"

Rachel's only answer was to blush deeply, then whisper, "Thank you."

When no one else had a question, Mel stood up, started to unbutton her blouse, and said, "Okay, friends and lovers, tonight marks the first session of the Littleton Perverts and Freaks Club. Everybody get naked just as fast as you can, because the last one to bare it all is gonna get ***** in every hole he or she has."

That brought a cheer from every throat, along with flying fingers pulling down zippers and pants, untying shoelaces, and unbuttoning blouses and shirts. It was only through intense concentration that I was able to make sure my undershorts were the final piece of clothing to fly through the air.

And then the strap-ons were pulled out of a wall cabinet, and a good time was had by all.


CHAPTER 8


Our lives were in limbo while Mel made the arrangements for our first visit to the Vodou temple where the sevites conducted their religious sessions. I begged and pleaded a few times to be allowed to cum, just once, just a tiny bit, but my wife insisted I stay celibate just like she and our friends were doing. I think I was hard all the time while we waited for news from Mel, but true to my promise, I didn't touch my little dick except when taking it out to piss and putting it back in my pants afterward.

And then, thank the powers that be, when I came home from work on a Thursday evening almost two weeks after the meeting at Mel's home, my wife met me at the door, pulled me into her arms, and gave me a kiss that just about made me cum in my pants.

When she finished that part, she continued to hold me close as she said softly, "Good news, Honey. I talked to Mel today and she said the manbo has added us to tomorrow night's schedule. She said Marissa told her they always like to have newbies like us come in for a Friday night meeting, because that'll give us more time to recover before we have to go to work Monday morning. Isn't that thoughtful of her? I think you, for sure, will need the extra time to get your strength back, because from what she told Mel, you're going to be a featured part of the worship services. Of course, Mel and Rachel and I will probably be pretty worn out since we're going to be bred at least a dozen times each before the night's over. Given how much stronger women are than men, I'm sure the three of us will be begging for more the next day. Aren't you?"

I'm sure the stunned expression on my face is what made Karen laugh so hard while she looked at me, but I was too shocked to feel even the slightest bit of embarrassment. Just the thought of watching my wife being fucked by twelve, or maybe even more, black men was making me tremble all over. Somehow, the thought of those same men, and maybe some of the women, spending a few hours torturing me did nothing but make my already painfully-hard dick throb even more.

After she'd given me the good news, I was left on my own to change out of my work clothes and wash up for dinner. It was while I was taking off my clothes in the bedroom that I looked at my naked body in the full-length mirror, and the sight of my bobbing dick made me so disgusted with the little thing that I tucked both it and my nuts between my legs so I didn't have to look at them.

I barely had time to think how much better I looked when I heard Karen's soft gasp from behind me, and I instinctively dropped my hand to my crotch to hide what I was doing. For her part, all she did was walk up behind me and rest her chin on my shoulder while she pulled my hand away from my body. She was breathing rapidly as her hands circled my body and pinched my nipples with her thumbs and fingers, while doing her best to jerk them off my chest.

I watched the two of us in the mirror as one of her hands dropped to my crotch, and then she whispered, "You're beautiful like that, Honey. I love seeing your crotch all smooth, almost like you never had any equipment at all. I wonder . . . I wonder what it'd be like if you . . . if you didn't have to tuck your little things to hide them. If you looked smooth like that all the time, even with your legs spread."

She suddenly shook her head rapidly from side to side, almost as if she were resetting her brain to its normal state. I could actually see her facial expression return to normal as she said, "It's something to think about, isn't it? Maybe I'll talk to Marissa about that tomorrow."

Then, stepping back and heading for the door, she said, "Dinner's ready, Honey. Better hurry or I'll throw it out."

And then she was gone, leaving me to try to deal with her words, and wondering if she really meant them, and wondering, too, if she wanted me to be the eunuch I'd been dreaming of being for more than five years. But, since that part was not my decision, I just pushed it to the back of my mind and put on some casual clothes and headed for the kitchen.


CHAPTER 9


That night would have been bad enough without additional stimulus from my wife to get me more turned on than ever, but she didn't seem to be a bit sorry for me. As we lay in bed the only thing I could think of was her naked body lying there next to mine, and as if that weren't bad enough already, every few minutes or so she'd run her finger along her slit, then hold it under my nose and ask, "See how hot I am, Honey? All I've been able to think about is those black guys screwing me with their huge cocks. I don't know if it gets me hotter thinking about that part, or about the part where they use you like a woman. Which one do you think will be the best part?"

She never gave me a chance to answer, which I guess was probably for the best, since I'd been thinking about exactly that ever since I'd learned arrangements were being made for us to go to the next meeting of the Vodou worshippers. As I lay awake for what seemed all night, I never did arrive at an answer.

While we were eating breakfast the next morning before leaving for work, Karen said casually, "Oh, by the way, Honey, Mel told me that all of us have to be freshly shaved before we leave home tonight. After we eat supper, I want you to shave my crotch and then I'll do yours. Okay?"

When my only answer sounded more like, "Urk," than anything else, all she did was laugh and head for her car as she said, "It's your turn to take care of the dishes, isn't it? Have a good day at work, and I'll see you later so we can shave each other. Bye now."

Then, about all I could do was try to put everything in the dishwasher without breaking it, and then drive to work without having an accident. I don't remember much about that day as far as my job went, but somehow I must have got through it, because I have vivid memories of the two of us going to her bathroom and stripping off our clothes that evening. It took every ounce of my concentration to not nick her as I carefully trimmed her pubic hair with scissors, then lathered her crotch with shave cream and even more carefully scraped off every hair I could find.

She was equally careful with me, and just minutes later we were standing in the shower stall, soaping and washing each other and fantasizing about what would happen to us in the coming hours.

As had been arranged, all six of us met at Mel's home a few minutes after 11:00 that night. We'd been told that a van belonging to one of the sevites would arrive at 11:20 to take us to the place where the members held their sessions, because the location was difficult to find and we'd be in no shape to drive home afterward, as Mel put it. Rather than her warning frightening me, all it did was make it more difficult for me to breathe through a throat tighter than I'd ever known it to be.

An older van pulled into their driveway right on time, and before the driver could get out the six of us were hurrying out the door. The man who opened the sliding door on the vehicle didn't appear to be all that much larger than me, but given that his skin was almost the same color as the dark night, about the only part of him I could see clearly were his teeth, which gleamed white as he smiled at us.

As soon as everybody was seated and belted in, the driver said, "I am Alexandre, and it is my pleasure to take you to our meeting place. Once there, the six of you will be asked to remove all your clothing before you enter the chamber. When you are inside, the doors will be locked and no one will be allowed to enter or leave until each of you has been subjected to our rituals."

He paused to give us time to think about what he'd said, then added, "I warn you now that any objections you have, any of you, to what we do to your bodies will not matter at all. Once the sacrifices have been started, they must progress to completion or the gods will be angry with us. They always hunger for the suffering and the agonies we present to them, and if the offering is not fulfilled, they will punish all of us, even if it's only you whites who deserve it."

Again he paused for several seconds before he concluded his warning.

"If any of you have any reservations about what is going to be done to you tonight, then you must leave now. Once I take you to the temple where you will be sacrificed, your wishes will no longer matter, because you will be our slaves and will be completely in our power." The pause was shorter that time, and after a few seconds he asked, "Does anyone wish to leave?"

The silence in the van was apparently enough answer for him, because his only reaction to it was to start the engine, back the van out of the driveway, then head down the street, taking us we knew not where.


CHAPTER 10


The side and rear windows were made of dark glass, denying me any sense of where we were going, and since my wife and I were sitting in the rearmost seats, I knew that I'd be totally incapable of telling anyone where we'd been if asked. I could get a general sense that we were heading south for a few blocks, then turning west. My best guess when the speed increased was that we were on highway 285, which meant we'd soon be beyond the city limits of Englewood and heading for a forested area that was reasonably remote, in terms of houses and businesses.

That opinion was reinforced when I glanced through the windshield every now and then, and could see the streetlights becoming fewer and fewer, and the buildings appearing to be separated by undeveloped land.

We must have driven for half an hour before the driver slowed the van, and then turned off the highway. The road surface changed to gravel after a couple miles, then to dirt right before we turned into a side lane and approached a huge barn-like structure, with dozens of vehicles parked outside it. As we approached the building, a pair of large doors slid to each side, and when we were inside the building, slid back in place with a jarring clunk that I felt more than heard.

The driver got out and walked around the front of the van, and after sliding the door open once again, said, "Okay, folks. This is the place where you'll be introduced to Papa Legba and the other loa. The manbo is probably preparing the sevites right now, and as soon as your spirit guide comes for you, he'll escort you to the preparation room to get you ready to be sacrificed."

He turned toward the sound of a door opening, then said, "And as promised, here is Antoine, who will be your spirit guide tonight. He'll prepare you for what is to come. Good-bye and good luck."

We had no time to thank the driver, because Antoine said, "Please follow me, if you will, and I will take you to the manbo, who awaits you."

Sure of our obedience, he turned away and returned to the open door, then stood beside it as we walked through. The sound of the door being closed and locked behind us was almost as frightening as it was exciting, because I knew I was closer than ever to realizing my long-time fantasy of watching my wife being bred by black men, each one bigger than the one before. And while I was watching that being done to the woman I loved, I knew I would be closer than ever to having my other fantasy made reality.

We were led down a short hallway and up to a door that was guarded by a huge black man who was holding a wicked-looking sword across his chest. At a word from our guide, the man stepped aside and opened the door he had been guarding, then when all of us had walked through it, he pulled it closed and as before I could hear the sound of a lock being engaged.

Indicating several clothes hooks, some with hangars dangling from them, Antoine said, "Please remove your clothing and hang it neatly, in order that you'll be able to find it if you are able to leave at the conclusion of the services." He then displayed an evil smile as the import of his words swept through our brains, but I'm sure all of us were too frightened by then to return his smile with our own.

It was Mel, our de facto leader, who was the first to unbutton her blouse, and at her cue, everyone else soon followed her example. In less than two minutes, every stitch of our clothing had been removed and placed on the hooks and hangars, and as he nodded in satisfaction our guide consulted a piece of paper he was holding, then said, "Please follow me. Since Jeff has been selected to present our petition to Papa Legba while his wife is being bred, they should be first behind me. The other two women will be bred as soon as Karen has welcomed the twelve men who hope to impregnate her, and then the other two husbands will be subjected at that time to tortures less severe than those Jeff will be receiving, so they should follow the primary couple. The manbo is expecting you, and we don't want to keep her waiting, do we?"

Without waiting for our response, he opened a final door and walked through it, sure of our obedience to his request. And after taking no more than a half dozen steps, my wife and I entered the room where we were to be sacrificed.


CHAPTER 11


I hadn't realized it until we actually walked through that door, but I had been subliminally hearing drumbeats ever since we had entered the dressing room. When we were fully in the chamber, the tempo and volume of the drumming seemingly doubled, until I could feel the pounding beat in every part of my body.

My eyes were immediately drawn to a fire pit full of glowing coals, then to a raised dais, that was about three feet above the floor, and what I saw in its center made my heart pound in anticipation. A group of black men, every one of them just as naked as we were and each sporting the biggest, hardest cocks I'd ever seen, was standing around a table, or maybe a small platform that was covered with a bright-red cloth disiplaying strange symbols embroidered in gold thread . I didn't need to be told the purpose of that table, since our spirit guide was leading us directly toward it, and as we came to a stop, he said, "Karen, this is the breeding platform. Please place your body on it, on its back, with your receptacle at the lower edge."

My knees weakened even more as she left my side, and walking as if in a daze, slowly made her way to one of the long edges of the platform. Never hesitating, she turned her back to it, then placed both hands on it and lifted her body until she was seated on the top. Again with no hesitation, she shifted her position until the lowest point of her pussy was barely hanging over the lower edge, and then she lay there quietly with her legs draped downward and her feet as far apart as they could possibly go.

I watched, unable to breathe as the men gathered around her, and in the space of a single heartbeat every hand was caressing her body. I felt one of my hands being taken by the guide, then as he led me toward another part of the dais, my eyes focused on the thing standing upright no more than ten feet from where my wife lay while the men aroused her.

What I saw was strange to my eyes, but at the same time I instinctively knew its purpose. It was nothing more than a large rectangle, undoubtedly fabricated from 2" square metal tubing, with one of the short sides resting on the floor of the stage and the other short side at least ten feet above the floor. The longer sides, probably six feet apart, completed the frame, which taken by itself was not all that revealing, but when I saw the leather cuffs fastened to each corner of the rectangle, I knew immediately I would be secured there in a few seconds, and helpless to prevent whatever was intended for me.

There was a simple wooden chair sitting above the bottom member of the framework, and I was led toward it, stopping only when I was told to stand on the seat of the thing, which I did. There were twelve black women standing in a semi-circle behind the frame, smiling in anticipation as I approached with my little dick bobbing in arousal with each step. As soon as I was standing atop the chair seat, I was told to turn around so I could watch Karen being bred, and just as I started to do that, I saw two of the women carry short ladders up to the frame.

As I watched the first man slowly working his rigid cock into my wife's pussy, I felt my hands being pulled above my head and then out to the corners of the metal framework, and just seconds later the top cuffs had been secured tightly to my wrists. I barely had time to take a quick glance at the top corners before the chair under me was jerked away, and as my body fell and my shoulders took my weight, I gasped in pain, which caused the women to laugh.

I truly didn't care about being humiliated, but rather just focused all my attention of the black monster slowly disappearing inside my wife, and being driven crazy by the way she was thrusting her hips to meet it, while all the time begging for more. I was distracted by that wonderful scene, but for no more than a split second, as I felt my ankles being stretched out to the bottom corners before being cuffed in place.

Just as the man shoved the final inch of his cock into the place where it was always meant to be, I saw half of the women moving to stand in front of me, all holding black-leather whips in their hands. And then, as the second man began to enjoy my wife, the women raised their whips in unison and without pausing brought them whistling toward the targets they had selected.

I had been whipped many times with willow switches when I was a boy, and then with floggers when living in the frat house, but never had I even guessed what real pain would feel like. The burning, piercing agony fled from each lash mark, immediately spreading to every part of my body, and my screams echoed throughout the room, bringing laughter from every person watching me being whipped. I could feel the thongs shredding my flesh, and I knew I could never bear it, but suddenly the agony became just pain, and then it subsided even more, until at last my head tilted back as far as it could go, and I just hung there in silence as the lashes tore into every part of my body, but most of all my tiny organ and the two pain-wracked orbs hanging under it, as well as up and down my ass crack.

And then the whipping stopped, and I slowly tilted my head forward and watched as the manbo walked toward me. She was holding a red candle in one hand and shielding its flame from the air as she approached. Then, as she came to a halt directly in front of me, she lowered the candle to my crotch, and as she held the flame under the head of my little dick, she whispered, "And now, find Papa Legba and bring his message to us, little man."

It was at that moment that I knew what true agony felt like, and that the whipping the women had given me was nothing more than gentle caresses, and as I heard someone screaming my only thought was that he should shut up, because he could never be as bad off as I was then.

And then everything grew quiet, and I was at peace in a strange place.


CHAPTER 12


I was walking along a wide path, with several dark-skinned people, all very short in stature, walking beside and behind me, almost as if they were escorting me somewhere. The path was surrounded by the most-colorful forest I ever could have imagined, and I saw leaves fluttering in the slight breeze. It was the rich variety of colors of those leaves that made everything so unreal to me, because some were a bright-red color, so vivid that it made my eyes hurt. Others were deep purple, and still others a blue that I thought was the most-beautiful color I'd ever seen.

As we walked, the little man on my left was gripping my left nut tightly in his stubby fingers, constantly squeezing and jerking it, almost as if he were trying to make me walk faster. The little woman on my right was doing the same thing to my other nut, and I marveled that what they were doing to those tender parts of my body was not in the least painful, but rather it was exciting me to the point that my tiny organ was standing upright at a 45° angle to my body.

Just when I thought to ask the duo where they were taking me, and why they were doing that to my nuts, the man looked up and in a piping voice he answered my unasked question.

"We take you to Papa Legba, where you will receive the word of god you will take to the sevites who sent you to us. We give you pain in your worthless parts because you deserve to be punished for having such ugly skin and such disgusting things between your legs.

If Papa Legba favors you, and if he judges that you suffered sufficiently before coming to our world, he may even reveal a tiny part of your own future; however, you must never ask to know that, because his anger would be great if you did, and you would never see your wife again."

I had no time to even think about what I'd been told, let alone ask a question, because immediately before us the path widened, and then we entered a clearing in the forest. I looked everywhere, expecting to see a castle where the god would live, or at least a golden throne placed atop a stone pyramid, but the clearing contained nothing like that. Instead, the only thing that interrupted the field of newly-mown grass was a large stone, or maybe a boulder, that seemed to be sitting in the exact center of the clearing.

When we had approached the stone closely enough that I could make out details, I saw that it was dome-shaped, and it reminded me of the helmets worn by Vikings, but without the horns. The peak of the dome was much flatter, also, but even then I knew that if anyone chose to sit on the stone, it would be extremely uncomfortable.

I saw that someone had attempted to paint a crude face on the stone, which was nothing but two horizontal lines at the top, each a couple inches long, separated by a space of two inches. Immediately below those was a vertical line that I thought was supposed to represent a nose, and then lower down was another horizontal line, centered beneath the nose.

Just as I felt laughter rising in my throat, the two lines at the top split in two along their length, then they curved in opposite directions, revealing to my awestruck brain totally-black eyeballs with small, white dots in their centers. As all thoughts about laughing were driven from my brain, the line representing the mouth also split and opened, and as the lips parted I heard grunts and groans, then clicks and whistles, which left me dumbfounded.

And suddenly I knew that, rather than using the strange noises, the voice was speaking in common English, and the message that came to my ears froze me in place as I heard it describing events that had yet to happen.

I cannot now recall what the message was, but I have always known it was very important to the sevites and that I must remember it word-for-word so I could recite it to them when I returned to my own world.

And with that thought my eyes sluggishly opened, and understood that my naked, pain-wracked body was once again hanging by its wrists in the metal frame. Since my chin was on my chest when I awakened, the first thing I saw was my dick standing erect, larger than I'd ever seen it. It was the head that drew my attention, because that part was nothing but cracked skin that was blackened and blistered, and when I saw the manbo's hand move the candle away from there, I remembered everything that had come before I lost consciousness, because there's no question that's exactly what happened to me.

The priestess astounded me as she looked deeply into my eyes and said, "Thank you for bringing the word of god to us tonight. Your suffering will enable us to enrich our lives a great deal, because Papa Legba has revealed to us which investments to make, and which land to purchase, as well as many other things that will fill our pockets with gold."

Then, pointing to the table where Karen was being bred when I passed out, the manbo added, "And I know your lovely wife is also very proud of you, because you demonstrated more bravery than any white man ever has, and it brought each of us great pleasure to watch your suffering as you were whipped and burned."

At the mention of Karen, my eyes were drawn to the sight of her thrusting hips as the final black man bred her, but her eyes saw only me. She smiled to show how much she loved me, then blew a kiss that made me happier than any words ever could have.

And then I decided I was very, very sleepy, and my eyes closed. That was my last memory of being in the temple, because the next thing I knew I was in our bed at home and Karen was kissing me and caressing the red stripes that seemed to cover every bit of my body.


CHAPTER 13


It was at that moment when I realized I was lying on a sheet of plastic, for some reason or another. I barely had time to ask, "Wha . . .?" when Karen whispered, "Just lie still, Honey. You're covered with some sort of salve that Marissa gave me, and I didn't want you to ruin the sheets. Luckily for us, the guy who brought us home and helped me get you in bed knew what he was doing, and he brought the plastic to protect the bed.

"He was the nicest guy of the whole bunch of nice people, and without him carrying you to bed, you'd probably be sleeping on the lawn right now. I hope you adjust to the pain before much longer, because smearing that stuff all over you is more than I want to mess with.

"And speaking of messes, I've got one that you need to clean up, if you're up to it." She chuckled as she got on her knees beside me, and I felt the first stirrings of arousal as she lifted one leg over my head and I saw her wadded-up panties stuffed up against her crotch. Before I could even think to pull her down to my mouth, she chuckled deep in her throat, then added, "I had twelve loads of black cum in my pussy, and I was hoping to make you swallow every drop, but lots of it ran out while we were driving back home. I hope there's enough for you, because I'll bet you're really hungry after all the exercise you had tonight."

As she spoke those words, she pulled the ball of cloth away from her pussy, and then I had no time for any other thoughts other than licking and sucking the slimy stuff that filled her, and swallowing it as fast as I could. All the time she was letting me do that, I was thinking of the black guy in the frat house who had let me suck him as much as possible, and reliving the memories of being in his bed night after night while he used me like a woman.

My memories were interrupted as my wife brought me back to the present by saying, "I was so proud of you tonight, Honey. I just thought my heart was going to burst when I watched all those women whipping you, and you never complained at all. God, that must have hurt so much, especially when they were whipping your junk and your ass crack, but you never even once begged them to stop, like Donnie and Brad did when some other women tortured them. I just can't wait to rub it in with Mel and Rachel when we fuck each other next week.

"Anyway, I think you're just the bravest man in the whole world, and I hope you make me even prouder when we go back to the temple in a month so some of the other men can **** you and maybe do some other stuff to you. You'll like that part, too, won't you, Honey?"

Whether or not I answered her question, I have no idea, because the next thing I knew, I was coming awake in a fog of pain as Karen was rubbing some more of the salve on my body. As she did that part, she was telling me that she knew I was just as anxious as she was to know if the black men had put their babies in her tummy, but that we'd have to wait about three weeks to see if she had her period before we knew about that part.

She then helped me get out of bed before leading me to the bathroom, where she held my dick while my bladder emptied, and both of us saw at least a small bit of evidence the thing still worked when it twitched in response to her flicking the head with her finger.

And then she helped me get back in bed, where I slept for the rest of the day. Once I'd awakened feeling refreshed, I was able to walk unassisted to the bathroom, and after taking care of the necessaries I endured a shower that stinged like the fires of hell.

It was after I'd managed to make my way to the kitchen, and she'd fed me serving after serving of the meal she'd been working on all day, that she said, "Honey, after you've eaten, I want you to write out the details about how our lives have become so different since we got those strap-ons to use on you guys. I think there's lots of other women out there who'd love to make their lives more interesting, don't you? So, why don't you get it written down, and we can find someplace to post it on the 'net. Okay, Honey? Could you do that for me? Please?"

Then, before I could get up from the table and head in here to our home office so I could begin doing as she asked, she put her hand on mine and asked in her best imitation of a sultry voice, "Honey, have you ever heard of something called a eunuch?"


The End

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Questions or comments? Please write to me at: sharon_smif@gmx.com.