Chapter 1: A Bird in the Hand

I was always fond of my Aunt Karen; she was a grown-up for sure, but really not that much older than my sister and I. She occasionally baby sat us and we always had a fun time with her. As I got older and started to have "manly urges," I also noticed that she was a very attractive woman. I thought the world of her. That is, until that summer she spent at my house when she brought that world crashing down around me.

I was twelve, and my sister, Carol, was eight at the time. Aunt Karen was taking some summer courses at the college in town, so it was agreed (by my mom) that she live in with us for the summer before moving back into the dorm in the fall.

Translated into plain and simple English, I lost my room. My aunt took possession of my bedroom and I was relegated to a day-bed on the enclosed porch. Not that I minded the physical arrangements. The bed was comfortable, it was neat to feel the cool night breezes, and I loved to hear the rain beat on the tin roof of the shed out back. What bothered me the most was my loss of privacy.

Several months before Aunt Karen arrived, I discovered the joys of masturbation. I had always played with myself, but there's that special time in a boy's life when he first comes with sperm that makes the occasion all the more enjoyable. And now, all that was missing.; I seemed never to be left alone.

So I was greatly excited the evening when Aunt Karen announced that she would be taking Carol shopping at the mall across town the following day. I slept fitfully planning the possibilities of penis play in the house all alone for hours at a time.

I awoke with the typical hard-on that proclaimed my entry into puberty. I couldn't tell if Aunt Karen noticed it or not. The thought that she might see it embarrassed me tremendously. I had a tough time concentrating all morning. Mom went to work, and I tried watching TV while Aunt Karen did some chores around the house. Carol was still sleeping. I swear, that girl could sleep all day! If only she would get up, and the two of them get out to the mall.

Carol eventually did rouse from her slumber and after an all-too-leisurely breakfast, finally got dressed. My aunt and my sister departed at 11 o'clock. Two minutes later, I was in the bathroom with my magazine spread out on top of the toilet tank. I had my penis in hand already, and was sinking to my knees in front of the toilet while fumbling at the vanity for the hand lotion. Damn! It wasn't there. Then I remembered mom using it the previous night in the kitchen.

Shoving my penis back into my pants, I ran downstairs to retrieve it. As I was busy at the counter in the kitchen, my aunt's car pulled back into the driveway, and my sister bounded out of the car, came charging through the front door, and ran up the steps. She yelled an out-of- breath, "Auntie forgot her purse," as she passed though the living room.

Meanwhile my aunt was making a much slower, but more graceful entrance into the house. From upstairs we heard my sister's urgent call, "Auntie, come up here!"

I knew what it was as soon as I heard it. I wanted to shrink into the floor. My aunt took the steps two at a time. I stood in the living room like I did on the porch whenever a thunderstorm approached. All was silent; all was clam, yet I knew that violence and noise was soon to follow. I could hear the clock tick in the living room. The second hand must have made about a quarter of a sweep before I heard my aunt shout, "David, get up here!"

I decided to face the inevitable and slowly marched up the steps to my fate. My fate wasn't exactly what I thought it would be. I was expecting the lecture part but what followed was never a part of my darkest dreams or wildest fantasies.

My aunt stood at the top of the stairs, legs panted firmly apart, with one hand knuckled on her waist, and the other waving the magazine menacingly. "What is the meaning of this?" she bellowed. God, she sounded just like my mom! In spite of the nearly 15 years difference in their ages, here was no doubt that they were sisters.

"I don't know," I said defensively.

"Where did you get such filth? ANSWER ME, young man!"

I could see Carol in the corner, stifling a giggle. She always liked it when she could get the best of me.

I stammered, "I got it from my friend, Bobby Richards. I traded him a baseball glove for it."

"And do you like looking at pictures of naked women?" she retorted.

"No."

"No? Don't lie to me. You like doing it, or you wouldn't give up a glove for it. I bet you get all hard looking at these pictures, don't you."

I blushed. Partly because here was my aunt, and she knew about hard-ons; mostly because she was announcing it in front of my kid sister. I looked over to Carol; she knew something was up, but didn't comprehend. Aunt Karen caught my glance and her puzzled look and came to the same conclusion.

She turned to Carol and asked, "Do you know what we're talking about, sweetheart?"

Carol simply shook her head no.

"Well, when boys get sexually excited they get erections, or hard-ons."

Carol nodded at that, "I heard some boys at school talk about hard-ons. I didn't know what they meant."

"Did you ever hear them talk about 'jerking off?'" my aunt queried.

"Yes, one boy said that another boy did it and then the other boy got mad."

"Do you know what jerking off is, Carol."

"No Auntie."

"Well, it's about time you learn."

Carol's Sex Education

"Get your butt into that bathroom, David!" my aunt commanded. "If you want to play with yourself while looking at women, we'll give you your chance. Only this time, you'll be the one that's naked, and we'll be the ones who are looking."

It never occurred to me to disobey my aunt. She sounded so authoritative. I marched with head hung low into the bathroom. I could hear Carol snicker, but I couldn't make eye contact with her.

My aunt pointed to the toilet. "OK, pervert, pull 'em down and do it!"

I felt so embarrassed. I always fantasized about my aunt, and now instead of being though well of by her, I was being humiliated by her. The feeling was amplified by the presence of my 8- year-old sister ogling my every move.

As I was pulling my shorts down my aunt challenged, "I bet you've been jerking off a lot lately."

"Oh, no Auntie," I answered truthfully, "Honestly! I swear!"

"Come on, when's the last time you got it off?" she asked.

"Last week. -- the day you arrived ... when mom picked you up at the airport."

"Good, then you'll put on a good show for your sister and me."

By now I was naked from the waist down. I knelt at the toilet. Carol took up her position against the door facing me. Aunt Karen looked in from the side. A fleeting glance at Carol told me that she was excited. Her eyes were opened wide and she was biting her lower lip nervously. She finally got brave enough to speak, "Auntie, it looks different."

"What do you mean, Carol?"

"It's big and it sticks out all by itself."

I knew that Carol knew what boys looked like. I'm sure mom had that talk with her and used the same book that she used with me. Carol had an anatomically correct boy-doll, and she had watched as one of my mom's friends changed her infant son. I also suspected that she had experiences with boys near her own age, watching them "make pee." None of them; however: book, doll, infant, little boys, had erections.

"That's a hard-on, dear. It means that David is excited and wants to do this for us? Girls can make boys have erections just about any time they want. Isn't that right, David?"

"Yes Auntie." I wouldn't dare disagree with her.

"Well, David, what are you waiting for? Go ahead. Do it!"

"I have to get some hand lotion to make it slippery." I complained.

"No you don't," my aunt challenged. "We can make it slippery for you." "Carol, help me spit on his penis." The two females leaned over, pursed their lips and let their saliva drip onto my penis. Within moments I had enough girl spit on my organ to start my assigned task.

I started playing with myself. There comes a point to which I can tease myself, and I either have to stop or have go on. It's a very fine line, and once I step over it I have to continue. There's a "danger zone" were I am over the line and excited, but still haven't ejaculated yet. When I'm in this condition, I am at the total mercy of my body and I just have to keep on masturbating until I come. I remember being there and aware of what I was doing and who was watching. I really didn't care about the circumstances -- that I was forced to do this with a female audience looking on. I hear d Carol giggle. I even heard my aunt gasp. I reached the line from the very moment I first started stroking; I had to go on. Nothing could stop me.

I pumped my penis for a matter of moments before I exploded with my first ejaculation of the day. After such a long abstinence, it felt great.. I deposited a large load into the toilet. My first squirt shot clear across the bowl and landed on the seat on the far side. The rest made audible splats as they hit the water. I looked down and saw the clouds of come floating in the bowl.

"Very good," my aunt complimented. "You weren't lying. You haven't been playing with yourself recently."

"How can you tell, Auntie?" Carol asked.

"Boys have to recharge. They can't come all the time. The more times they do it in a day, the less stuff comes out when they do it. I'll show you more about that later."

My aunt wasn't kidding. She kept me naked well into the afternoon. Every half hour, like clockwork, she would take me to the bathroom and make me masturbate for her and Carol. By the time it was ready for my mom to come home, I was orgasming with only the weakest dribble on each ejaculation.

My aunt summarized the lesson for Carol. "That's how you can tell if a boy has been playing with himself. Make him jack off for you. If he has big squirts like David did this morning, then he's been a good boy. Otherwise, he's been naughty."

Chapter 2: Best Laid Plans for Mice and Men

Once my mother came home, I hoped that my punishment was over and my misdeed forgotten. Nothing was mentioned at dinner or afterwards. I thought I had escaped with a single afternoon of embarrassment. Little did I realize that my ordeal had just begun. Late that night as I lay in bed listening to the crickets, I overheard my aunt talking to my mother. To my horror, she was recounting the events of the day. Her version of the story was a little different than the truth.

As I lay there I managed to pick out their conversation. I heard my aunt say, "...so, we found him there, kneeling in front of the toilet ... looking at this (I heard the magazine rustle)... and playing with himself. Carol was scandalized, but I calmed her down. There was nothing to do but make the most out of a bad situation, so I figured that since she already saw what was going on that I might as well explain it to her. I made David finish while we watched."

My mother responded, "I'm so concerned about David. It's tough raising a boy. I know that they're oversexed. I don't want him growing up like so many other men who abuse women. If he's looking at this stuff when he's 12, what's he going to be like when he's 16 or 21?"

"I think today's episode was good for him, Sis." I heard my aunt say.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I think he got a good dose of 'feminine appreciation.' Being sexually embarrassed by me in front of Carol made him think twice about his attitude towards women. Now he knows what it's like to be a sex object."

I heard my mom laugh, "Yeah, my son, the masher -- Why is it that all men seem to think with their dicks? I really don't want him to turn into some sort of pervert. I don't like the idea of his masturbating to some fantasy (I heard the magazine rattle again). I hope that this doesn't get out of control.."

"In a sense it already has," my aunt said. "We weren't gone but a few minutes when he started playing with himself. Lord knows what he'd do if we were gone for the whole day like we planned."

I heard my mother sigh.

"I got an idea, Sis. If he can't control his penis, then maybe we can control it for him."

"What do you mean?" mom asked.

"It's simple. He's a boy, right?"

"Yes."

"That means that he's going to play with himself no matter what we do."

"Uh-huh."

"Then we'll make sure we supervise the way he plays with himself. We'll decide when, how often, and how much."

"When you say, 'we' Karen, who do you mean?"

"Well, with your work schedule, you're too busy to take care of this, so why don't you let me handle it"

"That's OK for the summer, but what about when you go back to school in the fall?"

"Then I'll train Carol to take care of it."

"Carol! MY Carol? She's only a girl!"

"Yes, but she's already seen it. There's no more secrets there. She's a smart girl, very mature for her 8 years. She can handle it."

I heard silence as my mom obviously pondered this proposal. After a while she finally spoke hesitantly, "OK, I guess ... if you think that this will work."

"Trust me, Sis. This will work out. It will not only be good for David, but Carol will benefit as well. David will learn how to behave towards women, and Carol will develop that confidence around men that most women never get."

"OK, Karen, we'll talk to the kids tomorrow morning."

At Her Command

The next morning after breakfast, mom held one of those, "family meetings." The four of us assembled in the living room. I looked at her and could see her uncomfortablness. She looked towards her sister. Aunt Karen gave a very subtle nod, and my mom began.

"I'd like to talk about what went on here yesterday. David, I understand that you're a young man, and that your sex urges are high. I know that you have no control over the changes that are going on in your body, but you are going to have to learn how to live with them. I'm afraid you've let them get out of control. For the last couple of months, I've been washing stains out of your sheets. I know what you've been doing. And yesterday ...."

She stopped, and let the silence reign. "and yesterday," she resumed, "we found you with this." She waved "people's exhibit A" in front of my face. "Don't you know what this kind of thing can do to you?" I looked down at my toes, and she continued, "This kind of filth ruins your mind. It puts bad thoughts into you head, and makes you play with yourself incessantly. It's degrading and teaches you that women are sex toys for men to play with. Well, that's not going to happen in my house."

"From now on, you are going to learn how to respect women. Your aunt, assisted by your sister, will be in charge of your training. First of all, you're going to take a trip to the library and we are going to get you something more suitable to read. You're going to check out some books about women. You will study these books and make a report every night at the dinner table about a famous woman and her contribution to history."

"Secondly, you are going to start to pull your fair share of the housework around here. You will not only do your assigned chores, you will also do your sister's chores and anything else Aunt Karen tells you to do."

"Next, to appreciate what it is to be a girl, we're going to treat you like one. Aunt Karen will take you to the mall, and she's going to buy a new wardrobe for you. While you are in this house, you will be dressed in girls' clothes unless Auntie gives you permission otherwise."

I looked up and opened my mouth to object, but mom cut me off with a sharp glance.

"Finally, girls don't have penises, and they don't play with themselves like you do. You are forbidden to take matters into your own hands again. I know that boys need relief, but you can't be trusted to control yourself. From now on, if you want to masturbate, you can, but you first have to get permission from myself, Aunt Karen or your sister."

"Mom!" I exclaimed.

"You have a problem with this?"

"Mom, Carol's only eight. She can't tell me what to do."

"She can now! And if you don't obey her, you'll have to answer to me or Aunt Karen."

"Yes .mom," I muttered meekly.

"Now where was I ... Oh, masturbation. You must get permission from one of the women in the house. Furthermore, you'll have to wait until one of us is available to watch you do it. You will never do it alone. Not only that, you will be required to masturbate on command. If any of us asks you to masturbate, you'll do it for us immediately. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, mommy."

"Good. ... Karen, I have to go to work now. He's all yours."

My mom hugged me, and kissed me and said, "I really don't want to do this this way. I love you, but this is for your own good. Behave yourself, and mind Aunt Karen and your sister."

Mom left and the three of us sat in the living room in silence. My aunt was the first to break it, "Since we don't have any 'girl clothes' to wear right now, we'll have to make you take off what you have on. You'll have to get used to being naked while we have our clothes on."

I would have liked to object, but what was the point. So I got undressed. I felt totally foolish standing there without a stitch of clothing on in the middle of the living room with my aunt and sister looking on. The shame was causing me to have an erection.

"Carol," my aunt said, " you're going to have to learn how to take control of your brother, and give him orders. Look at his penis. I think he needs to masturbate. What do you think?"

Carol looked at my aunt blankly, and before she could answer, I interrupted, "No I don't, Auntie. I did it so many times yesterday."

My aunt turned towards me and said, "You heard what your mom said. If any of us gives you an order to masturbate, you will obey it immediately. You have to understand that from now on us girls decide when you will be allowed to be able to come, and when you won't. You gave up your rights to your penis when you proved that you couldn't control yourself."

"Carol?" she asked.

"OK, David." my sister said timidly, "I want you to go play with yourself.

"Be more forceful," my aunt advised.

"David, play with yourself ... NOW!" my sister barked.

"Much better." my aunt complimented.

I was confused, "Here? Now?"

"Yes now, and we'll do it in your room." my aunt responded. "Get that ass of yours moving now."

The two girls had me lay on my back on the bed and stroke my organ. This time, I didn't need any artificial lubrication. There was something in the events that just transpired that had me exceptionally excited and leaking. I came with a healthy splattering of come which landed all over my stomach.

"Auntie, how come he's the only one who gets to touch it?" my sister asked.

"It doesn't have to be that way, sweetie. You can touch him any time you want. Let's get him cleaned up and I'll show you a couple of things about boys."

I was directed to go into the bathroom and wash up. I did so like the "good little boy" that I was. When I came out, Carol was sitting at my desk. Auntie was leaning over her shoulder and was drawing a picture and pointing out things. It was like a scene from a school room: teacher and student. When I approached, I saw what they were working on and recognized it immediately. It was a diagram of the male reproductive system!

"Ah, here's our subject now!" I heard my aunt announce.

"Subject?" I thought, "That's sounds so clinical."

"Come here and stand still," my aunt commanded. "Carol, come over here so you can see better."

I stood at attention as my aunt directed. Carol got up and stood in front of me. I never realized how short she was. Her head barely came up to my chest. Her demure stature emphasized the fact that she was still a little girl: not only was she sexually immature, but she hadn't even finished her basic growth. Yet here she was, in control of ME, almost a teenager!

"Go ahead," my aunt encouraged, "take it in you hands. Don't worry, you won't break it."

Carol took my flaccid member in her hands. "It feels like a limp hot dog," she exclaimed as she wrapped her palm around my entire member.

My aunt laughed, "Give it some time, girl. He just came -- I told you that boys have to recharge before they can ejaculate again. Well, that goes for hard-ons too. But I think we can speed up the process a little. Put your fingers under the head like this."

My aunt demonstrated a fingering technique to my sister. She put the middle and ring fingers of each of her hands under the head of my penis, and placed her thumbs on the head. She squeezed my penis gently between her thumbs and fingers, while moving the fingers up and down the shaft. Meanwhile she was kneading the head gently with her thumbs making small circular motions.

She was right! I got erected almost immediately. It felt so weird. She was making me get hard without my cooperation. It just happened. "Auntie, how are you doing that. You're making me hard, and I not doing anything?"

She laughed, "What? Do you really think that you control your erections? HA! Your erections are out of your control. Girls cause erections in boys. We can do it like I am, by touching you, or we can do it simply by being around you. It's like there are invisible fingers reaching from the girl to you all the time --sometimes even when we're not there, fondling your private parts. You're going to get a hard-on whether you want one or not. That's why us girls can control you guys so easily."

My aunt invited Carol to try it, and my sister took over eagerly. The treatment she was giving me was exquisite. She excited me just enough to get me hard, but wasn't providing enough stimulation to make me ejaculate. She was marching me towards that fine line, and wasn't going to let me turn back. I felt myself getting closer and I wanted relief, so I started humping. My aunt caught on immediately and yelled at me to stop. I tried. No matter how hard I tried, the urge to hump was simply irresistible. After several aborted attempts my aunt stopped the action.

"This isn't going to work even in your sister's hands you can't control yourself. We'll have to fix that. Come!" My aunt took me by the hand and led me to the basement. We had a playroom there and in the middle of it was a support pole. Aunt Karen made me stand with my back to it and fastened my hands behind it, and my feet as well. She ran one length of rope around my waist and lashed it to the pole. I was totally immobilized.

"Now, that's better," she announced, admiring her handiwork. "Now we can get on with it."

Carol continued her ministrations to my penis as I strained futily against my bonds. My aunt appreciated my useless squirming and seemed to really enjoy it. She wanted me to fight it; obey her, but fight the bonds she put me in. Meanwhile I was getting nowhere with Carol. She had pushed me back and forth over the line, and I was still no closer to coming than I was 40 minutes prior. I was totally excited, erected harder than I'd ever been, dripping more precome than I ever thought possible, feeling the tightness in my balls and the faint tickling at the base of my penis, and still not near that first contraction that would propel my sperm in a heated rush.

Before Carol could get bored with her game, my aunt suggested, "This is a lot of fun, but we don't have all day. I want to do other things with him today. Why don't we let him do himself now?"

My sister whispered a quiet, "OK". I nodded vigorously.

Carol stepped back, and I felt a sense of loss not having her fingers on my penis. My aunt walked behind me and undid my hands. I went to undo the waist rope, and she simply said, "Not until you're done!"

I grabbed my cock and ran my fist up and down so fast, it was a blur. Aunt Karen grabbed Carol by the shoulder and pulled her back and off to the side. It was a good thing too. With all of the foreteasing Carol had given me, it was hot! I shot my come half way across the room.

My aunt was quick to respond, "Yes see, Carol, the longer you play with them, the harder they come. I bet David's really happy with his come, aren't you?" I could only nod.

"Boys can't get to this point by themselves. They tend to come too fast. I think it takes the gentle touch of a girl's hand to bring them along."

My aunt finished untying me. "Clean up your mess and get dressed," she commanded.

Chapter 3: From Free Male to Female

Normally I enjoyed my trip to the mall. I hung out in the record shop (I wonder why they're still called that?), the electronic store, or the food court. I usually went with a friend or two and we'd look at the girls. With summer high upon us, it was great to check them out in their shorts and short skirts.

The last thing a twelve-year-old boy wants to do is be caught with his mom at the mall ... or worse yet, with his kid sister! So, here I was, in the mall, with my kid sister holding my hand on one side and my aunt on the other. I was being treated like a six year old, and I resented it very much.

I particularly didn't like the stares that passers-by gave the three of us, but I eventually came to live with it. What was even worse was the stores that Aunt Karen dragged me into. There were women's clothing stores, lingerie shops, bath places ... in other words, shops that specialized in "girl stuff." There's an unwritten law -- if a male enters one of these places he gets infected with some sort of cootie.

Entering was bad enough, coming out was worse. At one of the shops, I emerged and nearly physically bumped into a girl. I recognized her instantly. She was Emily Malone, the older sister of one of the boys on my soccer team. She was 15, and quite a knock-out I sort of had a crush on her, and always tried to act my manliest around her. That was hard to do considering I was carrying boxes and packages of bras, panties, skirts, and all other manner of feminine frillery.

Being recognized by her was bad enough, but I had no doubt that she would tell her brother, and the word would spread. I could imagine being asked what I was wearing under my shorts at my next soccer match.

And those bras and panties and skirts? Well, some of them were for Auntie, and some were for Carol, but not a few were for me. At least Auntie didn't make me try them on in the store, but she did make me stand still as she held a blouse or skirt up against me. That drew stares from some of the sales clerks. The trunk of her car was nearly full of packages by the time we left the mall.

As soon as I got home, the fashion show began. We tried on the various panties. These, for the most part, were simple silky panties, but there were a couple with very frilly lace on them. My sister giggled, "You have sexier panties than I do. I can't wait until I get bigger so we can share them."

We had several blouses, and I really had a tough time figuring how to get them on. Buttoning with the holes on the wrong side was bad enough, but buttoning up the back was impossible. I had a couple of training bras, which fit well enough considering I was about as chesty as a girl a year or two younger than I would be.

I also had a dress and several skirts.

The particular outfit Aunt Karen really wanted though, consisted of a simple white blouse, black skirt, black stockings, black high-heeled pumps and a white frilly apron: my maid's outfit. This fit in with my mother's second point about pulling my fair share of the housework.

Indeed, over the course of the next week or two, my aunt devised a cleaning schedule for me that included laundry, ironing, scrubbing floors, cleaning toilets, vacuuming, basic meal preparation, and of course, dish washing. I was also required to make every one of the beds in the house. I had to adjust this task on a daily basis to accommodate the whims of my sister's sleeping schedule. She liked the way I picked up her room and got everything so pretty.

Ejaculation Delayed is Ejaculation Denied

By the middle of the summer I was fitting quite comfortably into my role as an ejaculation machine and "boy toy" for my sister and my aunt. It was embarrassing that they controlled my orgasms, but I was getting it off every day, and it felt good. I had to admit that they knew what they were doing.

Yet even a teenaged boy needs a rest sometime. The girls obliged me by giving me Sunday off. As much as I enjoyed being masturbated, or performing the act myself, I really looked forward to my one day of rest. However, by Monday, I felt totally recharged and ready to go again.

Then came the first Monday in August. I woke up and got into my maid's outfit to do the cleaning. Carol, as usual was sleeping in late, and I couldn't wait for her to get up so I could get my first relief of the week. She finally woke up at about 11, and I fixed her something to eat. I waited for her to order me to take off my clothes, but the order never came. I thought it odd, but decided to wait until our afternoon play session to bring it up, so to speak.

Later that afternoon, she did order me to strip for her, but was reluctant to take my penis in her hands or to allow me to do so. Finally, I couldn't stand it anymore and I asked her. "Carol, is something wrong?"

"No," she answered.

"Then why haven't you masturbated me?"

"Because I don't feel like it."

"OK, then can I do it myself?"

"NO!" she said firmly.

I was taken back by her sudden resolve.

"Why?" I was foolish enough to ask.

"I don't have to explain anything to you," she countered, "but if you must know, I'm doing this because Aunt Karen thought we should try it."

"Try what?"

"She said that we should try making you go without ejaculation for a while to see how you do."

I laughed. I thought that this was going to be an easy trail.

"However," my sister continued, "she told me I could do this!" Carol reached out and grabbed me by my balls and pulled me to her. She started playing with me.

"So, she's going to masturbate me anyway," I thought.

It wasn't to be so. She skillfully brought me closer and closer to my edge and held me there for just a little while. Then she nudged me over. I felt my tension mounting. The muscles were gathering for a contraction. The nerves were getting ready to fire. The fluttering in my stomach started. The first tingles of ejaculation were beginning to trickle down my penis. AND THEN SHE STOPPED!

I was in shock. I fumbled for my penis, but Carol slapped my hands away. "Why did you stop?" I asked frantically.

"As I said, dear brother, I don't owe you any explanations."

"Finish me off!" I demanded.

"No, I won't. I don't have to. I'm in charge here, and what I say goes. You will just have to get used to it."

My mouth flapped open and shut without making a sound.

Carol did the same thing to me two more times that day.

I was so horny by the time I got to bed, I couldn't sleep.

The next morning, I rushed to make Carol's breakfast and added extra touches. I made her favorite style of pancake, I used the good dishes, I even had a flower in a vase for her. I did everything to incur her favor hoping for relief. It didn't happen.

By Wednesday, I was desperate. I followed her around like a puppy dog doting on her every whim. By mid-afternoon, when she was fingering me for the third time that day, I broke down. "Carol, PLEASE," I begged her, "Let me come. I'll do anything you ask, just let me come." She only laughed at me.

Later that evening, she and Aunt Karen were talking in the living room. "It was just like you said, Auntie. He was soooo pathetic all he could do was beg for release."

"And how did that make you feel?" my aunt asked.

"It made me feel so powerful. I didn't do anything. I just touched his penis, and he fell apart. I can get him to do anything I want. I bet if I told him to kiss my ass, he'd thank me."

My aunt smiled, "You've learned a valuable lesson, Carol. Touching his penis wasn't really necessary. That merely hastened the natural process. Boys have to come. Deny them their release, and they become frantic. It's like having them hooked on a drug, and you're the supplier. They come to depend on you. Once you get them like that, there's nothing you can't make them do."

"Should we let him come now, Auntie?"

"No, I think we should give him another day. The discipline will do him good."

What neither of them remembered was that Carol had a dental appointment the next day; the same time that Aunt Karen was in class, and mom was at work.

I watched my sister board the bus for the dentist from the bathroom window upstairs. Once I was certain she was on her way, I started my orgy of fun. I knelt in front of the toilet and stoked my penis fevorously. I came in less than a minute. That was at least 10 times as fast as I had come all summer long. It was also 10 times less fun.

What was it? Did I lose my ability to masturbate myself? I had serious doubts as to whether I could come without supervision of my aunt or my sister. When they did it, or at least watched me do it, it felt so good. Now ... nothing ... it wasn't worth doing. I was so disappointed in myself. I was also so ashamed of myself. I let my aunt and my sister down. I had sinned. I played with myself without their permission. I only hoped that they wouldn't find out.

My hope was ill-founded. My sister came home and I was fine. My aunt came home and the first thing she asked was, "Well Carol, what do you say? Do you think we ought to check how well David behaved himself while we were gone?"

She was much more blunt with me, "David, did you play with yourself while we were gone?"

I could have lied, but I knew that once that they had ways of finding out the truth about these matters. I bowed my head and blushed. "Yes, Auntie," I said meekly.

My aunt came back with one of those questions that really doesn't have an answer, "Why did you disobey us?"

"I don't know," was all I could mumble.

"I'll tell you what your problem is, boy. You're weak! You have absolutely no self-discipline. That's why your discipline has been taken from your hands and put into ours. Your mother charged us with training you to be an obedient little boy and now you do this. You've failed us. You've made us look foolish. You do know what the consequences will be, don't you?"

I looked at her blankly.

"You're going to get the spanking of your life," she continued.

She directed me to get a chair from the kitchen and set it up in the living room. She had Carol sit on this chair while she, herself, took up residence on the sofa. She lifted a glass of soda and nodded at me. "You know what to do. Get over her lap."

I assumed my position over my kid sister's lap. Carol clenched my erected penis between the legs of her shorts. She took a swing with her arm and came down palm flat on my asscheek. It caught me by surprise, I didn't know that my sister could hit so hard! Neither did she apparently. She lifted her arm and waved her hand around. "Ow, that stings," she said.

My aunt was unperturbed; she slipped off one of her sneakers and handed it to my sister. "Here, use this. It will keep your hand from hurting."

My sister raised her arm again. This time she brought it back down with the sneaker in her hand, wielding it like a blackjack. POCK! the sound of the rubber sole meeting my ass resounded through the room. Her arm raised and lowered in a methodical, deliberate rhythm delivering pock after pock on my rapidly reddening behind. My rear end was burning, and tears were streaming down my face by the time my aunt directed her to stop.

My aunt helped me to my feet and waved her finger in my face, "You've been a naughty boy. I let you off easy this time. Try that stunt one more time and you'll get double the lashing, this time with something more substantial than a sneaker. I hope I make myself clear. You are not going to do that ever again or you will pay the price. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"

"Yes, Auntie."

Epilogue

My aunt moved out for good that fall. She still came over from time to time, and when she did, she would suggest new ideas for Carol to play with me.

Carol took over as my full-time trainer. I never played with myself without first asking her. Getting her permission to masturbate became more of a problem as she became older and more popular with her friends. I was finding it harder and harder to find a time when she didn't have several of them over the house after school. We eventually worked that problem out as Carol let them in on our "family secret". By the time I was a freshman in high school, there were five girls in all: my sister, Michelle, Kelly, Mary Sue, and Roxanne.

The girls formed a special club complete with initiation rituals. After an apprenticeship period, a girl could pledge to become a full member (full membership allowed her to authorize a masturbation or order one) The main portion of the initiation to the club required that the girl keep me erected for at least one complete hour before allowing me to ejaculate.

Delayed ejaculation was a favorite activity of the club. Girls would try for the record of keeping me erect for extended periods of time. Carol, having the most practice, held the single-girl club record: a whopping two and a half hours of continuous hard-on. The all-time record, was accomplished on a school holiday when Carol, Kelly, and Michelle took turns keeping me up for nearly six hours!

Carol also had final approval on my choice of girlfriends. I wasn't allowed to date any girl without her approval, and on several occasions she told me who I must date. All of my girlfriends were initiated into the club, and they came to appreciate what penis control means.

A typical date started with my masturbating for the girl to prove to her that I'd been faithful to her during the week. Since I was rarely allowed to come between dates, I made sure that the girl had a good time so she would go out with me again. I was expected to provide her with pleasure, primarily administered by my tongue on her clitoris or anus. Usually, Carol would make me masturbate for her when I got home just to see how well my date would "milk" me.

Eventually, Carol had dates of her own. She would sometimes put me in competition with them forcing me to masturbate with them "head to head" to see who could come first, have the longest shot, squirt the most ...

By the time I was in my late teens, I had learned how to hold off during any sexual activity until the girl gave me permission to come. This made me extremely popular with a select group of girls.

I married one of those girls. She has complete control over my sexual activities. She usually has me save it up until Wednesday night which is "girls night in." She gets together with some of her girlfriends from her former high school, some of her (and my) co-workers, and occasionally Carol and her friends and has me entertain them. I set up the house, serve them, service them, put on a show, and clean up the mess I (and they) make.

My wife and I have two darling children: a boy, 7 and a girl, 5. At the appropriate time, we will teach them their proper roles in life. Both of them have already have taken a liking to Aunt Carol.