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  1. BD Mann

    BD Mann Newcumer

    Joined:
    Feb 22, 2008
    Messages:
    4
    The Morning Routine
    By
    B. D. Mann​
    Every morning Daryl and I were sent into the bathroom together to get ready for the day. Daryl was a couple of months older than I was and had been staying with the Wilkinson’s for almost three weeks before I arrived. While one of us brushed our teeth at the sink, the other sat on the toilet voiding his bowels, after which we’d trade places. Then, in order to save on the cost of heating water, we’d step into the bathtub together for our morning shower.
    All of this was rigorously timed by Mrs. Wilkinson using a stopwatch. We each got five minutes on the toilet, five minutes at the sink, and five minutes in the shower. The shower itself was on an automatic timer and turned itself off each morning. We then had to stand there, dripping wet, and wait for Mrs. Wilkinson to come in and pull aside the shower curtain.
    That had been the case on that Wednesday morning in late June. The foster agency had placed me with the Wilkinsons less than two weeks before, but I was already well aware of the routine. I stood in the tub beside Daryl, facing the back wall, reaching back with my hands to spread my meaty butt cheeks wide, ready for inspection. It was horribly humiliating, making me feel more like I was five years old instead of fifteen, but I’d learned early on that as bad as it was, it was better than the alternative. It had only taken one encounter with Mr. Wilkinson’s leather belt to convince me that I needed to do everything in my power to avoid a second, so regardless of the embarrassment, I stood there, dripping wet, exposing my puckered anus for inspection.
    At five feet six inches, Mrs. Wilkinson was a few inches shorter than I was, but her husband towered nearly a foot taller than that, and I knew that the last thing I wanted was to have her call him in from the master bedroom down the hall. She was in her late thirties, and though I would normally have avoided noticing such things about a woman old enough to be my mother, in the shear green robe than she had belted around her narrow waist it was impossible not to discern that she had a nice, shapely figure. Her swollen breasts practically spilled from the front, dark brown nipples visible through the shear fabric, both thick and standing out fully erect from the end of each fleshy mound. Her glossy, black hair, streaked with the occasional strand of gray, fell in dark waves to her shoulders, still slightly disheveled from sleep.
    I recalled that her features had seemed attractive during my first meeting with her at the Foster Care offices, but since then I’d never seen her without her forehead creased with anger and mouth down turned in a scowl. I saw her glaring at me, as I glanced at her over my shoulder and quickly turned back to face the tile wall, trembling, despite the steamy bathroom.
    Mrs. Wilkinson moved over to the side of the tub, then sat down on the rim, eyes even with our out thrust bottoms, gazing upon the tight, wrinkled ass holes nestled between the widely parted buttocks. "Did you both completely empty those bowels this morning?" she asked. "Are you nice and clean back there?"
    "Yes, Ma’am," Daryl and I answered in unison, unable to keep the nervous quaver from our voices.
    "I suppose we’ll see about that," she stated, then turned her head towards the open bathroom door. "Come on, Gina, we’re ready for you."
    As mortifying as it was to be on display before Mrs. Wilkinson, I found it far worse to be exposed to her sixteen year old daughter, Gina. She was a couple of inches shorter than her mother, with the same jet-black hair, only hers was cut shorter, just below the ears. As usual, she came into the bathroom wearing the oversize T-shirt with a picture of Daffy Duck on the front that she slept in, carrying what Daryl and I simply called the little probe. It was as thick as a large finger and a good twelve inches long, made of a firm, gel rubber, and when I stole a look over my shoulder, I saw that she was pulling a condom down across the probe’s length.
    I dreaded the probe. It didn’t actually hurt going in, but it felt strange, like it didn’t belong. What bothered me the most, though, was how at some point the strangeness started to feel somewhat good. At Mrs. Wilkinson’s direction, I bent my knees and thrust my bottom out even more, fingers holding my butt cheeks wide. I gave a low gasp, as cool, slippery lubricant was smeared across my sensitive anus, then grunted, as the rounded end of the probe pushed against the opening, then slid up inside. I sucked in a sharp breath as Gina slowly fed more of the digit-like probe inside, the solid rubber inching ever deeper into my rectum.
    I’d seen Daryl often enough to know how I looked, bent over with half of the probe inserted up my ass, the other half protruding from between my buttocks like a tail. I gave a low moan as Gina twisted the intrusion around inside of my clutching hole, the friction against my anal walls burning in a way that was both uncomfortable and almost pleasurable at the same time. That’s when it got bad, when my cock, quite against my will, started to swell and lengthen in response to the twisting probe. I let out a muffled sob of frustration, hoping that the sudden boner would subside before anyone noticed, but it only stiffened all the more as Gina started working the long probe deeper still.
    By the time she’d pushed about nine inches of the rubber probe up inside of my butt hole, the discomfort started to get a bit painful, the next couple of inches working deep into my bowels. Gripping hold of the inch of rubber still protruding from my ass, Gina again started to twist the embedded intrusion around inside of me. This elicited a pitiful little whimper from me, my knees weak as I gasped for breath, and a snicker of delight from Gina. This would have continued for several more minutes, if Mrs. Wilkinson hadn’t put a stop to it.
    "Alright," she stated. "Let’s see how clean he really is."
    With that, the long probe snaked up my ass started to slowly be extracted, the sensation causing me to grunt and moan. I wanted the deep intrusion out of me, but dreaded what the results of the inspection would be. Try as I might, when the probe was sunk nearly a foot inside of me, it was rare that it emerged completely unsoiled. I didn’t have to crane my neck around to see, Gina’s disgusted, "Oh gross," more than enough to tell me that the condom covering the withdrawn probe was smeared with feces. That wasn’t sufficient for Mrs. Wilkinson, however, who insisted upon turned me around and waving the reeking evidence under my nose.
    "You call that a clean bottom?" she demanded to know. "That’s an absolutely filthy bottom, young man!"
    I wanted to ask her how clean the probe would come out if I were to shove it all the way up her ass, but knew better than to do anything so foolish. Besides, Gina completely changed the focus by abruptly reaching out to wrap her fingers around my distended erection and firmly squeeze, causing me to nearly choke.
    "It’s worse than that, Mother," Gina announced. "He’s got another stiff boner too."
    "Dan!" Mrs. Wilkinson called out. "Dan, come and have a look at this."
    I was flushed red as a ripe tomato with humiliation, standing there in the bathtub, my cock sticking rigidly out from my crotch. I wanted to drop my hands down and try to cover the embarrassing display, but was afraid that Mrs. Wilkinson would do more than simply slap my hands away if I did. Instead I stood and waited the few seconds it took Mr. Wilkinson to appear in the doorway, half dressed in his policeman’s uniform. He scowled and shook his head in repugnance.
    "Little shit getting another stiffy when you stick things up his butt?" he gave a derisive snort. "I’m telling you, these two are growing up to be a couple ass loving fags for sure."
    "Not only that, but he lied about emptying out his bowels again," Mrs. Wilkinson said, holding the soiled probe out for him to see. "So, what are you going to do about it?" Mrs. Wilkinson asked.
    "I don’t got time to anything about it," her husband replied, then gave a shrug. "Guess you and Gina need to deal with them this morning."
    My gut tightened at this pronouncement. Getting an enema from Mr. Wilkinson most mornings was bad, but still far preferable to having his wife in charge of the procedure. There was a sadistic glimmer in her eyes as she ordered me to step out of the tub then drape myself over the rim. She pulled the dirty condom free and handed the probe back to her daughter. As Gina fitted a fresh condom in place, Mrs. Wilkinson moved to the sink, where she began filling a red, rubber enema bag with hot, soapy water.
    With my head and shoulders in the tub, resting on my elbows, I could look up and see Daryl squatting lower, thrusting his bottom out further, fingers still spreading his buttocks wide. My own slightly sore butt hole squeezed tight in empathy, as I watched the little probe disappearing up Daryl’s greased backside, gaps, grunts, and moans similar to the ones I’d made issuing from his throat as it sank ever deeper. I wasn’t proud of the fact, but the truth is, I’d felt a degree of relief when I saw his cock begin to swell and stiffen in response to Gina twisting the narrow probe around in side of him. It was terribly selfish on my part, but I simply didn’t want to have to endure the consequences of having gotten an erection on my own.
    To my further disgrace, I was even more pleased to see the twelve inch probe eventually withdrawn from my foster brother’s rectum smeared with waste as well. Mrs. Wilkinson spun him about and shoved the condom stretched probe in his face, flushed with anger and what I had come to recognize as excitement. At the same time, her daughter reached out to firmly grasp his swollen cock, ensuring that it was throbbing at rigid attention when Mrs. Wilkinson glared down at it.
    "Both of you, such filthy, disgusting boys," she sneered. "Have you ever seen such pathetic little perverts, Gina?"
    "I’m sure I haven’t, Mother," her daughter replied. "I bet they stay all stiff and hard, even when you put all of that horrible fluid inside of them."
    "Demented queers that they are, it wouldn’t surprise me," Mrs. Wilkinson stated, then ordered Daryl to step out of the tub, then lay himself face down across the rim as well.
    While her mother went about preparing a second soapy enema, Gina squatted down between us, intent up making certain that our cocks remained painfully erect. She rubbed and squeezed the turgid pole of flesh jutting down between my legs, my entire body tensing as she reached up to finger the ball sack bulging out beneath my upturned bottom. The tight, bloated orbs ached, several days worth of cum stored within, Mrs. Wilkinson very strict about controlling how often we could ejaculate. It now seemed ludicrous that I’d felt deprived while staying at the Child Services facility because I’d been forced to silently jerk-off under the covers each night in the dorm room. That was a luxury I didn’t dare to indulge in here. I’d seen what happened to Daryl when he’d had an orgasm without permission and knew that it wasn’t anything I ever wanted to have to endure.
    It wasn’t long before Mrs. Wilkinson was hanging two bloated enema bags from the shower curtain rod. I gave a low gasp as a bulbous, plastic nozzle attached to the end of one of the tubes was pushed past my sphincter and inserted several inches into my bottom. Daryl, balanced on his elbows beside me in the tub, gave a grunt of his own as Gina pushed a nozzle inside of him as well. The initial flow of warm, soapy water being emptied into my bowels wasn’t bad. In fact, I was embarrassed by how good it felt, especially when Gina pointed out how my cock was getting even harder, throbbing with increased intensity as the pressure in my gut steadily grew.
    I would have thought that, as the water draining into my bowels increased and started to feel uncomfortable, my erection would have began to falter, but that wasn’t the case. Even as my belly started to cramp from getting too full, my stubborn cock remained painfully stiff and erect, the top pressed flush against the porcelain side of the tub. Soon I had a powerful urge to empty my bowels, even as the warm fluid continued to empty into me, the pressure building with each passing second. Daryl started moaning beside me, his face contorted in anguish, and it took me a few seconds before I realized that I was issuing desperate moans of my own.
    Mrs. Wilkinson not only gave us much larger enemas, but also forced us to retain them for horribly long periods before finally allowing us to expel. Even after all of the soapy water had been drained from the bag and the thick nozzle removed, I was made to remain draped over the tub’s rim, struggling to keep the fluid from spurting out of my ass. I’d made an awful mess the very first time and my bottom had been whipped bloody by the belt, so now I fought with all my might to ignore the horrible cramping.
    Finally, both of us sobbing, she allows us to stand up, turn around, then squat with our butts hanging over the side into the tub. The first few times I’d endured such treatment, I’d nearly been overwhelmed by the horrendous stench, but now it wasn’t nearly as bad. Partly because I’d gotten used to it, but mostly because, even though she could usually soil the little probe, our bowels were rinsed out most mornings, so there was rarely much waste squirting out with all of the soapy water.
    "Hurry it up!" Mrs. Wilkinson scolded, as we grunted and moaned, water splattering out into the tub in forceful fits, the release so great that I could almost forget that the entire degrading display was being witnessed by Mrs. Wilkinson’s sixteen year old daughter.
    Gina, however, made completely forgetting her impossible, since she reached up between my legs to grip hold of my pulsating erection the entire time I was expelling the enema into the bathtub. As always, whichever one of us took longer to squirt the foul water from our ass was responsible for scrubbing out the bathtub when we were done. On the days that Mr. Wilkinson administered the enemas, I generally tried to avoid the chore, since he usually released us afterwards. But on those days when he worked the morning shift and left his wife and daughter in charge, I knew that getting a bowel cleansing was just the beginning of our ordeal, so I was more than content to remain behind to scrub the bath, while they started in on Daryl.
    It was no more than a ten or fifteen minute reprieve, since I had to go join him once I was done, but I tried to hold back so that I’d lose on those days all the same. The reason being that I feared having an accident, which is what Mrs. Wilkinson called ejaculating without her permission. I knew that at least Gina would be doing things to Daryl while I cleaned the tub, and the more of those kinds of things that she did, the harder it would be to keep from having an orgasm. I wanted every edge in preventing myself from having an accident, since the punishment I’d seen Daryl receive for it was even worse than getting whipped with the belt.
    I spent as long as I dared rinsing out the scoured tub, then finally left the bathroom and moved down the hall towards the master bedroom. I was still naked, and my erection, having lost much of its intensity while cleaning the tub, drooped down towards the floor. The bedroom door was standing open and I saw Daryl lying in the middle of a large king sized bed. He was on his back, legs bent and knees pulled up to his chest, feet sticking up into the air. The middle of a long shoestring had been wrapped about his scrotum, the ends then pulled up and tied to each of his big toes so that his plump balls were being pulled up from between his legs. Any attempt to lower his legs would result in the string pulling painfully against the tender orbs.
    Mrs. Wilkinson, her robe pulled open, straddled Daryl’s upturned face, her pussy pressed against his mouth as he probed the silky, wet hole with his tongue. She was facing me, her eyes half closed, as she gripped her meaty breasts in her hands, squeezing so that the pale flesh protruded from between her fingers. Her nipples stood out like short stacks of pennies, so fat and swollen that they looked as if they were about to burst, her face, neck, and shoulders flushed a dark red, as Daryl steadily licked her towards orgasm. Gina lay on the bed beside Dayl, curled up on her left side, casually toying with Daryl’s throbbing cock, rubbing and stroking the turgid pole of flesh with her fingers.
    Regardless of how much I feared having an accident, my pathetic cock quickly swelled fully erect at the sight. It was with both growing arousal and dread that I saw Mrs. Wilkinson’s eyes open and fixed upon me. Despite the fact that she was nearing climactic bliss, she still managed to scowl at me and order me into position. I obediently climbed onto the bed and mimicked Daryl’s pose. I was on my back, knees pulled up to my chest, feet sticking up into the air, except, my head was at the foot of the bed, while his was at the head, our out thrust bottoms facing one another and no more than six inches apart.
    Gina sat cross-legged beside me so that she could tie the middle of another shoestring around the base of my ball sack, forcing the swollen contents into a tight, bulging bundle. She then pulled the ends of the string up to my big toes and tied them off so that my throbbing testicles were being pulled tautly out from my body, the slightest movement of my legs or feet resulting in a sharp tug against the tender orbs. And remaining still became suddenly more difficult, as she took my swollen cock in her hand and started to tug on the knobby head. Moments later, as she drew the hem of her T-shirt up around her waist, Gina mounted my upturned face, settling her moist pussy against my mouth.
    In many ways it would have been a horny teenager boy’s dream come true, if only I hadn’t been so concerned that my ever increasing arousal would result in an accident. I’d been intoxicated by the heady scent of Gina’s juices, smeared across my face and running down into my mouth, her high, breathless cries of pleasure enveloping me with lust. It wasn’t long before both mother and daughter were gasping in climactic delight, Gina grinding her pussy against my face, as she grasped and squeezed her small breasts through the front of her shirt, pinching and twisting the stiff nipples as she came.
    I suddenly heard Daryl’s labored breathing and realized that Mrs. Wilkinson had pulled her crotch away from his mouth, the bed moving as she dismounted his face. Moments later I was struggling not to squirm or move my feet, as a smooth, cool hardness pressed against my puckered ass hole. I knew without looking that it was the large probe, another cylinder of firm, gel rubber, but instead of being as thick as a finger, the large probe was close to an inch and a half wide. It took a moment for the lubricated rubber to push open my reluctant anal ring, but then it was past and sliding several inches up inside of me. A second later I heard Daryl give a low grunt and knew that the other end of the large probe had been inserted up his ass, the two of us now connected by the greasy shaft of rubber.
    As Gina lifted her crotch from my face, I sucked in deep lungs full of air, grateful from the breath, but concerned about what would come next. Just as I feared, one of her curious hands reached for my straining erection, her fists pumping in unison as she stroked two hard cocks at once. It was almost more than I could bear, Mrs. Wilkinson slowly working the probe several inches in and out of my ass, while her lusty eyed daughter steadily tugged the loose skin on my cock back and forth over the spongy head. My balls swelled and ached, stretched to near capacity by the string tied to my toes, legs trembling as I struggled to keep them lifted, on the verge of sobbing in frustration with my desire to ejaculate and the requirement that I keep myself from doing so.
    They tormented us in this fashion for a good thirty minutes, though to me it had felt like hours. My rectum was burning and sore from the prolonged violation, cock throbbing with painful intensity, my balls swollen and purple and on the verge of bursting from the pressure. Even though I’d known what the consequences would be, it got to the point where I was thinking that allowing myself to have an accident just might be worth it in order to bring the awful, throbbing ache in my groin to an end. However, Mrs. Wilkinson finally slid the dildo free from our asses and Gina let go of our cocks before that could happen, leaving me gasping in relief/frustration.
    My legs were starting to cramp, so I was grateful when Mrs. Wilkinson untied the ends of the shoestring wrapped around my big toes and gave me permission to lower my knees from my chest. Gina freed Daryl as well, and we lay side by side for a moment, head to foot, trying to catch our breath. I had expected that we’d soon be dismissed and that Mrs. Wilkinson had simply forgotten to remove the shoestring from around my throbbing balls, but when I lifted my head and saw that Daryl still had a string around his balls as well I started to think that maybe it wasn’t yet over. The fact that Gina remained lying on the bed, while her mother, by removing her robe altogether, instead of pulling it closed, tended to support this notion.
    "I think that it’s time we find out if your father knows what he’s talking about, Gina," Mrs. Wilkinson stated. "Let’s see if these boys really are faggots."
    She had Daryl remain lying on his back, then ordered me to climb on top of him in a 69 position. I balked, went as far as to tell he no, then cried out in agony, as she snatched up the ends of the string tied around the base of my scrotum and gave my swollen balls a sharp yank. She grabbed a fistful of my hair and snapped my head back, informing me that if I didn’t obey, getting my balls ripped off would be just the beginning of my problems. I had no place to go, and with her husband being a cop, I was convinced that it wouldn’t do any good to try and tell someone what was happening. Aware that I had no real choice, I reluctantly climbed on top of Daryl. I planted a knee on either side of his upturned face, then lay my torso down across his, my arms fully extended to the floor so that the rigid staff jutting up from his crotch remained as far from my face as possible. My own stiff erection strained down from between my legs, poised just above his face.
    Mrs. Wilkinson grasped the back of my head and pushed down, insisting that I take the end of Daryl’s distended cock into my mouth, while Gina took hold of my hips and forced my cock down, urging Daryl to engulf it as well. I reluctantly accepted the spongy glands past my lips, then struggled not to gag, as Mrs. Wilkinson tried to shove the entire length down my throat. It took me some practice, but I finally managed to accommodate the engorged member, my nose buried against the curly pubic hair surrounding the root Daryl’s throbbing cock. In a way it was good to have the distraction of struggling to suck cock for the first time, because otherwise I doubt I could have resisted the way Gina was coaching Daryl to hungrily suckle my rigid erection.
    "If either of them has a nasty accident while getting sucked off by another guy, we’ll know for sure he’s a fag." Mrs. Wilkinson explained to her daughter. "So make sure he’s fucking that mouth nice and deep."
    Much to my distress, Gina responded by shoving my hips down all the further so that Daryl was forced to engulf me completely, the way his throat contracted as he started to choke nearly causing me to climax. It seemed to go on forever, as I breathed rapidly through my nose, sucking steadily on the pulsating rod in my mouth, all the while fighting not to succumb to the merciless stimulation of my own cock. Though I doubt it had been her intention, Gina ended up helping me out several times by abruptly tugging on the strings tied to my balls at a time when it seemed like I couldn’t last a second longer. On the other hand, she nearly brought me to ruin at one point when she abruptly slipped a finger up my sore, red butt hole, the way she rubbed against my prostate nearly pushing me over the edge, before she as suddenly pulled it free.
    Much to my surprise, I was able to tell just before Daryl came. The cock in my mouth started to quickly swell, even harder than before, just before thick, warm fluid started to fill the back of my throat. Daryl started to cry out and I fought to pull my mouth free of the spurting organ, but Mrs. Wilkinson grabbed hold of my hair on both sides of my head and forced my face further down, telling me to hurry up and swallow before I choked to death. I had no choice but to gulp down the bitter emissions, more of the slippery semen flooding my mouth, as Daryl’s balls convulsively jerked, emptying themselves.
    Even though Gina let go of my hips, enabling me to try and pull my erection out of Daryl’s mouth, he hungrily lifted his head up so that he could continue to furiously suckle, desperate to get me to ejaculate as well, so that he wouldn’t have to suffer through punishment alone. To my great relief, Mrs. Wilkinson gave Daryl’s balls a sharp swat, causing him to drop back in pain so that my throbbing cock could pop free. Moments later, satisfied that I’d swallowed every last dribble of cum oozing from the end of Daryl’s cock, she allowed me to let the rapidly shrinking organ slip from between my lips.
    I was ordered to go stand on the floor at the foot of the bed, while Mrs. Wilkinson used lengths of rope to tie Daryl’s legs together and arms at his sides. For a brief moment, as Gina settled on the edge of the bed beside me to casually fondle the painfully stiff erection jutting out from my crotch and I glanced down at the limp, momentarily satisfied penis lying between his legs, I wondered if maybe he wasn’t the lucky one. Then, moments later, I realize what a foolish notion that was.
    Once the BenGay deep heating rub Mrs. Wilkinson had liberally smeared across his cock and balls as well as the large probe she shoved up his ass, started to really heat up, Daryl began to squirm and scream on the bed, where she left him to suffer for hours.
    THE END​
     
    #1
  2. yourpet

    yourpet Porn Surfer

    Joined:
    Nov 19, 2007
    Messages:
    47
    Awesome job! I so very nearly came without my Master permission. You should be very proud, that's a rarity for me to get so close without him. Keep up the awesom work.
     
    #2
  3. lilbiboy

    lilbiboy Porn Surfer

    Joined:
    Sep 22, 2010
    Messages:
    22
    Great story! I really like this type of scene. I grew up (from about age 9) with a very strict stepmom and she embarassed and humiliated me for the next 8 years. I hope u write more.
     
    #3