A Virgin's Thoughts - 3

Men Walking

   A girl will never understand, no matter how nice she is. Imagine. A boy is seriously bottom-heavy. His fanny pulls him backwards and side to side. His bottomcheeks rub against each other with such force at every step you can hear it. If sister doesn’t thoroughly oil his bottomcleft, chafing can break the skin.

   A boy’s prick and testicles are, like his fanny, enormously out-sized compared to the rest of his body. Walking with frequently-full testicles hurts, no matter what he does.

   That’s why he’s pigeon toed, bow legged, and walks like a sailor who’s been at sea for a long time in a small ship. He’ll never be classically graceful, although everybody loves to see him free-dance naked.  

   Now, boy and sister take a walk together in public. He’s 5-7 in flats, she’s 6-6 in heel sandals. His small hand in hers, she holds his large testicles on a leash. The girl has just spanked him sternly, so his fanny is swollen and burning.

   The boy keeps eyes on his sister’s feet at every moment, and is always at least mildly disoriented. The girl looks anywhere at her pleasure, and walks with perfect equilibrium. She strides confidently on long strong legs; he toddles meekly on short chubby ones.

   A boy is meek, fearful, lustful, helpless, and nervous. A girl is tall, strong, smart, tough, and aggressive. She rules, he obeys. She spanks, he screams.

   The real wonder is how such couples manage to look so charming walking together. Of course, it takes hard work and constant vigilance – for boys.

  Saturday Shopping

   Adele and I went shopping last Saturday. We went to the largest mall in the area. We walked quite a lot. She Gauged me frequently, and oiled my bottomcleft each time.

   Adele bought a number of things for me, including items for my Hope Chest. Every boy has one. Dainties, essentials, sentimental stuff. Tons of photos. Tons of Discipline Instruments. Butt plugs, perfume oils, makeup, so much more. Males are extremely “High Maintenance”.

  The Wedding Store 

   I blushed about going to a Wedding Store. I almost fainted next. Adele told a sales lady “Groom wedding gowns, please”.

   At the department entrance, the sales lady said, “We prefer undressing the young gentlemen ourselves”

   A tall girl in heel sandals strode up. She barely looked old enough to bathe me. When I was naked, she lifted me onto a wooden riser, and started taking my measurements. Everything, just like Mother does every year.

   The girl even separated my bottomcheeks, and inserted the bulb tip of a metal probe in my rectum to determine my bottomcleft depth. Adele told her my fanny was still Blooming.

   “Of course, Lady. My brother took 3 years. The enlargement was remarkable. I kept giving wicked spankings, though, until he got married. Actually, I still do. Sisters are special.”

   My face burned in embarrassment. The girl began measuring my genitals. I looked around in panic. Several other young men were on risers, fiancées and female family gathered close. Dripping erections and purple fannies.

   Males often wear elaborate wedding gowns for their barefoot walk to the altar. Shades of white (to signify virginity) in lace, tulle, and other delicate fabrics. Brightly colored ribbons, furbelows, and jewelry.

   Like other unmarried boys, I subscribed to wedding magazines. Sitting on Mother’s lap with dripping erections, I leered at the beautiful couples. I desperately wanted to be cute and masculine on my wedding day.

   We had a late lunch at a trendy young peoples’ restaurant. The waiters wore short pinafores and running shoes. They squealed when female hands went under the skirts to pinch fannies. The food was delicious. When we got home, Adele told mother I behaved like a perfect gentleman. I glowed with pride.

   Saturday Morning With Mother

   I was still in my teens. “Honey, I know you’re rather new at this. I’ll be careful, and use a Size 3 Plug. You’ve had a 2 long enough. Daddy wears a 5, and he really isn’t that much bigger. It’s about time you started wearing adult butt plugs on a regular basis. I love watching graceful men in plugs and frocks walk with their ladies.”

   “You and Adele were splendid in the Elegance Clinic exhibition last week. The auditorium was packed - beautiful Mothers, daddies Riding Out on their laps. We were so proud of you both. Adele was smashing in her dress and heels – daddy’s prick throbbed and dripped so much I had to pinch his testicles several times.”

   “And you were my naked adorable darling. I’m sure you were nervous and jittery without spankings or cums for two whole days. But it didn’t show. You Marched, pranced and high stepped and everything else with a beaming smile, stiff prick, luscious fanny.”

   “The boys had to bend over so often! Sisters’ fingers in. Out. In. Out. Led by testicles. Led by pricks. It was like a ballet. At the finale, it seemed your fanny was pointed right at me as you sucked Adele’s toes.”

   “Wonderful sight. Two dozen big beautiful girls standing on the stage, brothers’ fannies up and parted, sucking their little hearts out.”

   “Adele applied for the school Winter Promenade competition team. The state finals are in Chicago, for the 8 couples who make it that far.  Tryouts are next month. Adele wants you comfortable and graceful in a Number 3 plug by then.”

   “I’ll park at the mall, and we’ll have a nice long walk to the Mens Clinic. The doctor can inspect how it’s working along with her regular exam.”

   Adele usually takes me to the Mens Clinic. No matter what it’s for, some things are always the same. I’m naked, strapped to an exam table with my feet up and apart for rectal and genital inspection. Adele takes me to the Crying Room when it’s all over.

   “But Mother, the butt plug is too big!”

   “Never question a female decision. I told you about that. It’s stupid, rude, and childish. Insolent. Bend over hands on knees.”

   “It’s so big!” “No it’s not. Some of your turds are bigger, and it’s only slightly longer than my middle finger. Just remember. Your wife’s dildoe will teach you what a real rectal reaming is. Now bend!”

   Mother’s finger greased deep into my rectum, relaxed it and my anus. Her finger again. I shivered in secret pleasure, then screamed with pain. Plop! The butt plug was inside me.

   “Walk around the bathroom. Gracefully. Toes in, legs bowed, little steps.”

   The thing felt weird and big, deep inside me. Made it harder to walk properly. Mother put my socks and shoes on, slid the frock over my shoulders. It had a big red bow chest high. The skirt barely covered my fanny. In front, the tip of my erect prick peeked out.

   Mother placed a Carrier on a large end table, strapped me in, the handle in one hand. I was in the front seat beside her, looking out the back window, fanny pushed out by a bolster at my tummy.

   She unstrapped me at the mall, grasped my shoulders. I looked up, nose at her titty cleavage, smelling perfume. Giddy sexy feeling I get with big strong girls. Weak, helpless, submissive. Aroused. Erect and dripping.

   Well, Mother is quite attractive. Muscular, curvaceous, 6-6 in heels. Short skirt, tight blouse with deep cleavage, strappy black heel sandals. Even more important, she’s given me hundreds of howling spankings. By that point, as any boy will tell you, she’s a Domina first, a woman second, and Mother third.

   “You’ve had years of Elegance School, and a good sister. Walk properly.”

   She took my hand, collar leash in the other. I took little steps, eyes on her toes, butt plug churning in my rectum.

   A girl whistled. Then another. Mother said they admired my fanny. I saw countless female feet in heels, males beside them in Mary Janes or ballet slippers. We arrived at Mens Clinic feeling fine.

  Men’s Clinic With Mother

   A nurse aide (I could tell by her white heels and voice) came to us. She wanted to undress me. Mother assented.

   “You can look around, little cutie. Anywhere. Ma’am, is there anything the doctor should know?”

   “He’s wearing a butt plug. Number 2.”

   “Oooh, congratulations honey! Let me give you a kiss for luck. Mmmwah! Now sit on Mother’s lap for a bit. I’ll come get you myself. Oho! What nice cockhead! I bet your sister is happy about that!”

   Naked boys and men, on laps of superbly dressed girls and women. Most sitting Sideways, both bare feet extending from the same female thigh.

   Mother read a magazine, “Disciplinary Home Décor”. An old Domina Angel movie was on TV. Pretty good movie. I glanced around. Sexy female feet, skirts hiked up, titty cleavage. Every cock erect, dripping, being fondled.

  Genital Ointment At The Clinic

   It was a general check up. The doctor offered immediate Genital Ointment treatment in the new walk-in sub-clinic devoted to that. “A boy his age needs it weekly.”

   “Not today, thanks. I like to kiss and comfort him the whole time.”

   “We have charming and skillful girls who do it. Minor extra charge. Leave him here, come back in 99 minutes.”

   I was on Mother’s lap, praying she’d refuse. She accepted, and walked me to a very modern and plush clinic. Soft accent lighting on the walls, carpeting, TVs.

   The Application Area was white tile, bright lights, exhaust fans, floor drains. New padded Application couches, boys and men strapped tight supine, groins high, genitals slathered with red ointment. Moaning under powerful exhaust fans. Pretty young girls at their heads and upper torsos, kissing, chattering, playing with nipples.

   Minutes later, I was strapped down and ready, prick still hard. A nurse in white rubber gown, gloves, shoes. Surgical mask. She started under my testicles, finished me in minutes. I tried to remember if Mother said goodbye when the first pain hit me.

   Forget about suppositories, enemas, and all the other painful care males receive. Forget Discipline. Switches & Nettles is another agony, and it lasts longer. Genital Ointment is in a class of its own.

   I opened my mouth to scream. A rubbery thing that tasted like strawberries. Stretched my lips and jaws, gently held my tongue. I could only moan.

  Crying Room With Mother

   Mother came for me when a nurse aide had almost finished oiling my limp genitals a second time. They still stung a bit, but I’ll soon need  several mighty cums. The damn stuff is evil, but it’s effective.

   She looked down at me, diddling my cock and balls. “You’ll keep Adele and me busy when we get home. How many cums before the last kiss last week? Six? No, seven, counting the goodnight kissing. And so thick and copious!”

   Mother leaned over and kissed me. “Ready for the Crying Room, son? I’m anxious to use my new Spencer Spanker on your fat fanny. You’ll cry like crazy, I promise.”

   Huh. That was a kick in the testicles. After the 85 minutes of sheer hell I endured, Mother can’t wait to spank the snot out of me. I started to protest.

   The sheer cruelty, unfairness, and misery of it all made me cry. My own loving Mother!

   “Buh-ber-bub-buh …”

   She put a finger to her lips. “Remember. Never argue with a female. Never. It’s Naughty. Besides, it never works, and you’ll regret it.”

   Minutes later we were in the Crying Room, surrounded by screaming naked males and determined females plying spankers. Mother put me across, saying, “Eyes on my feet and toes. I’ll thrash a proper foot fetish into you, by heaven. And you’ll love and lust for me because I did.”

   Nothing prevented my screams and cries this time. Whew. Mother’s spankings are all the same – brutal. My fanny was so sore and welted, we had to take a cab to the mall. About an hour later, Mother frigged me to a gigantic cum. Before her last kiss goodnight, she gave me 7.

   She was right. Never argue with a female. I have a serious foot fetish. I love and lust for her and Adele. And my wife’s dildoes are enormous! Penis shaped (about the size of my erection, actually), thrust vigorously, they gave me a different perspective on butt plugs.