He woke up with wood. The first sound that he heard was the
sound of rain falling, and the sound of it must have triggered something
inside him, a need he had. When he opened his eyes he looked down at
himself, feeling the pressure of his need, and he saw his erection as he
lay on the cool sheets of a bed. The sight of his penis startled him.
It rose up from his pelvis, from between his legs, and for a moment he
enjoyed the sight of it, the thick vigor of its manliness. Then he saw
the welts arrayed along its stiffness and he felt a pain down there,
along his erotic stalk, and he was aware of the weight of someone lying
next to him in the bed.
“Oh my God!” he cried, for he was aware suddenly of what had
happened to him last night, and of how he was up again, as if begging
for more.
“My, you’re up nice and early,” a soft feminine voice purred
beside him. Taylor looked from his erection to the woman lying beside
him. She was as beautiful as ever, her dark hair falling a little in
her eyes as she gazed at him with those twin deep beckoning pools, those
invitations to mischief.
“I uh, can’t control it,” Taylor said, which was true, for he
was only 17. He wanted to add that it was in no way meant to beckon her
on, but of course she never allowed him to get that out. A feather
lifted. She was holding it. He did not recognize it as an egret
feather, for he was not an expert in such matters, but he watched it
sail slowly through the air, guided by her hand, until it touched his
cock. He shivered. It felt wonderful. He wanted to spurt as it traced
the welts on his penis and then, slowly, delicately, the veins under the
welts, that crisscrossed them and made his manhood look all the more
muscular and hardy.
“Such a stimulating piece of wood,” Miss Brookhaven remarked,
admiring his manhood as she teased it. Suddenly he was aware of what
had been his first sensation that morning, that which had awakened him.
Miss Brookhaven saw the slight change on his face and asked, “Do you
have to pee?” Taylor nodded, trying not to look desperate. Miss
Brookhaven produced handcuffs. “Wait just a moment,” she said. She put
down the feather, laying it on his chest so that its tip still touched
his cock, the end of it sighing up and down along a small part of his
length when his chest moved with his breathing. She wiggled upward
along the bed, moving beside him, and took hold of one of his wrists.
She lifted his right arm. He offered no resistance. She snapped it
against the bedrail above his head, ensuring that his strong right arm
would now remain completely unavailable to him. Then she rolled over
him, her lovely naked breasts teasing his chest, and she did the same to
his left.
“But I have to go to the bathroom!” Taylor said, when he found
that both his hands were effectively gone and, as a consequence, he was
trapped upon this very comfortable but not at all suitable place of
repose. He had to get up. He had to go and empty himself in the
ceramic bowl before he burst.
“Miss Brookhaven will take care of everything,” the woman
smiled, as if speaking of herself as something outside herself, which
perhaps she was sometimes, owing to how wicked she could be. She told
him to lift his head a little. He did. She slipped her hand under the
pillow he was using and drew out a coil of plastic. He looked at it.
Suddenly recognition dawned. It was a catheter! “Let me get the
creme,” Miss Brookhaven said. She put her hand under his pillow again
and pulled out a used squeeze tube. She unscrewed the cap. She
squirted some of the creme onto her fingers and greased the end of the
catheter. “Now let’s see if we can’t get that pee out of you,” Miss
Brookhaven said.
Taylor gasped as Miss Brookhaven knelt over his penis. She
straddled his thighs, so he could not move his legs. She held his cock
with both hands, capturing it and then inserting the end of the greased
catheter into him. She pushed. He watched in horror as the catheter
slid into him, feeling its length inside him, like an invading snake.
It went deeper and deeper and suddenly his fear turned to terror: it
was going too far up! But even as he cried out for Miss Brookhaven to
stop she kept on pushing, turning a little now to make sure that the
back end of the catheter, which had fallen off the side of the bed, was
poised over the bucket she had placed there previously.
Suddenly Taylor had an awful feeling as if he was being both
punctured and released. He saw yellow shoot up suddenly into the clear
tube that was running out of his penis. The yellow kept moving and
suddenly he realized that he was peeing.
“Yes, the catheter is in your bladder now,” Miss Brookhaven
said. “All your needs in this area will be attended to from now on.
You will not even have to think about going to the toilet. You can just
lie in bed all day, enjoying the feel of the sheets and the sound of the
rain outside, and letting me tease your naked erection.
Miss Brookhaven got up from the bed. She inspected the
contents of the bucket, telling him he had made an excellent pee,
putting a good half bucket full of urine into the pail. Then she picked
up a small silver bell from the nightstand beside the bed. She rang
it. A few minutes later a beautiful young girl appeared, dressed in a
scanty maid’s costume. As Taylor watched, noticing her shock upon
seeing him with his penis invaded, she gulped and brought him
breakfast. She arranged the tray on his chest and when she had gone,
Taylor watching her young naked bottom as she left the room, Miss
Brookhaven told Taylor to open his mouth.
“I’m going to feed you, to keep you big and strong,” Miss
Brookhaven told Taylor. And she did, and he ate lustily, for something
about his condition and his night’s previous experiences had left him
very hungry.
After breakfast, when the maid had returned and removed the
tray, giving Taylor another tempting and cock-raising view of her
bottom, Miss Brookhaven set to work on Taylor’s balls. She ordered hot
towels to be brought and she applied these to Taylor’s testicles. But
first she sprinkled them with cologne, which had the effect of making
them burn terribly, an effect which amused Miss Brookhaven, that
something as delicate and feminine as cologne could so thoroughly
torture a man. Then Miss Brookhaven, when she had tired of punishing
Taylor’s balls, uncuffed his hands. She had him sit up. He had just
peed again, in fact he was peeing intermittently without being able to
stop himself. But when he sat up, having apparently emptied himself yet
again, more came out.
“Mmmm. You just can’t stop, can you?” Miss Brookhaven
laughed. “My bucket is almost full. But now I’m afraid I must attend
to my other guests,” Miss Brookhaven said. “I was going to let you lie
here all day admiring yourself, but I saw how you looked at my maid.
I’m going to take the catheter out. Then I’m going to fist you until
you cum. That’s right,” she smiled at him, when he gave her an awkward
look. “I require most men to stay hard and randy. But you I’m jealous
of. I want to make sure that only I get to enjoy your cock. Your milk
belongs entirely to me.” Miss Brookhaven drew out the catheter, as
Taylor sat watching. He felt in possession of himself again as the
thing slid out of him. Yet he was not willing to assert himself to deny
Miss Brookhaven what she now wanted. As she took hold of his manhood,
he sat feeling the cool sheets against his bottom, and he did not even
stop her when he noticed the young maid girl peeking into the bedroom.
“Cum,” Miss Brookhaven commanded Taylor, working his cock with
her delicate small fist, moving up and down him like some clasp on a
piston. “Spurt all over my bed, all over yourself and my hand,” Miss
Brookhaven said. She fisted him harder. Taylor felt a curious
detachment as he watched her, as if he were somehow not connected to
this thing which she was now so willfully using. “Here you will be a
fucking machine,” Miss Brookhaven said. “You will spurt on command.”
