No way that Bryan's psyched penis, starved by a three-day famine from any frig play, could hold off any longer. He felt a kind of quicksand sensation deep in his testicles. Then the elastic snapped. Helpless in the snug grip of a bowline hitch behind his waist, Bryan Archer Quinby was on naked and devastating display to three intoxicatingly stacked females. Feeling like the end of the world, he gawked at their staring faces, inches from his hard-on, trapped by the rope laid across his wrist. Compelled to grip himself.
'I do not believe it!' exclaimed Denise Pritchard, inching closer than her daughters till the tip of her cute pug nose nudged the bulbous crimson crown. 'You said it leaped, Pammy, but this has jet power!'
'Mommy… you promised,' whispered a suddenly awed Sandy, reaching tentatively to touch the swollen cap and snatching her hand away when a maternal slap stung her fingers. 'It's ours to learn from, right?'
Mrs. Pritchard looked casually up Bryan's muscular front. 'You admit my girls have aroused you?' No harshness in her demand.
'Yeah… ah, hell! Can't you… untie me? Please?'
'Do I disturb you, too, Bryan?'
He fought for air and felt the warning urgency bubbling far off that warned of a growing spontaneous combustion in his groin. 'Sure… you're, gee…!' He felt the friendliness behind her voice. 'You're enough to drive any guy bananas.'
'Go bananas, Bryan Quinby.' Matter-of-factly she kneed forward. Now her boobs were at his thigh level. 'Lower our sex slave,' she ordered Pammy holding the rope. 'He will jerk off at our breasts. He wants to.'
It couldn't be happening to him, Bryan told himself as he felt the rope lower him till his legs bent and his cock brushed directly into Mrs. Pritchard's deep booby cleavage.
Something happened when she felt the contact of his aroused flesh. Her fingers clawed behind her shoulders to release her bra halter. Rich and jutting, the bared globes leaped for freedom.
'First demonstration, girls.' She wormed closer and now her boobs framed his helpless phallus, its red cap actually nudging into the warm breast valley. 'The male loves this feeling. You can make a vagina sensation with your breasts. Aren't they lovely, Bryan?' Her hand darted to both girls' bikini halters, spilling the cover from boobs as excited as her own.
'Do it, Bryan,' demanded a breathless Pammy, unlike her twin sister never having seen or touched a boy in her fourteen years. It was a promise they'd made to Mommy, who had in turn, five years earlier, made the promise to them she would lead them into womanhood when they were fifteen. 'Show me how a boy does himself.' Pammy's eyes sparkled in expectation.
'Loosen the rope so he can move his arm,' ordered Mrs. Pritchard, her head swimming to the delight of educating her two made-for-loving daughters. 'Now… Bryan! Show us.'
In mixed anger and lust he stared directly into the three faces, then down their curvaceous fronts at six equally staring nipples. His focus centered on Mrs. Pritchard's and the way her cleavage held his cock so naturally. Go with their game, his dazed mind urged. 'So you gotta make 'em tight for me?' he croaked.
Denise Pritchard clutched her middle as the laughter bubbled. 'He wants you to squeeze my breasts together over his penis while he does it. You want to feel what a pretty pussy grabs like, Bryan?'
'Sorta.' He gasped the admission. 'Golly, I got to!'
His fist tightened white-knuckled on his prick and he began to stroke, feeling the sweet warm clasp of the pressed-together breasts. Wild sight. Each girl tenderly gripped one of Mrs. Pritchard's ripe boobs, forcing them snugly against his cock. He'd had wild dreams about the three of them, but never this wild.
The build-up was slow coming and he knew it was a mixture of shock and the lack of traction for his feet barely touching the floor boards. The imprisoning rope was unnoticed pain on his upper arms. He would have stayed right where he was without the rope. Sudden arrogance took him as he saw the entranced stares watching him drive his cock into Mrs. Pritchard's breast cleft.
'Yahhh!' he growled, ripping his turbulent cock into view and brandishing it before three startled faces. 'You want to see a man do it, do you? Well, stay right there… I dare you! You'll see!'
'See what?' Contempt dripped in Sandy's question and she leaned closer.
'This… and this!' Bryan flailed his hard-on in impetuous swipes across her cheeks, then pumped feverishly, directly into their faces.
'Look… look at the eye wink! That horrible red head jumps in and out of his fist!' shrieked Pammy.
'And something else jumps,' squealed Mrs. Pritchard, sensitive to his climax nearing and seeing orgasm paralysis stiffening his frame. 'Watch out!'
The seizure of his orgasm snatched all reason from Bryan. Before him three gorgeous girls with golden glorious bodies were on display. Tumbling red hair, boobs bouncing with excitement, and pink, almost transparent nipples reaching for him from each girl, forced a cry with his ejaculation. 'You want to see it jump?' he shrilled hysterically. 'It'll jump all over your tits!'
Milk-white and rainshower-wild, his semen shot at the eager expressions, splashing out of control into dancing eyes and open-mouthed excitement, dripping down onto three animated torsos. The three were suddenly savagely changed as they took the warm spray of his come. It was Mrs. Pritchard who seemed most jolted by the sensation.
'Oh, how it makes you feel to be masturbated at!' Her hands massaged urgently across tenderized boobs. It was follow-the-leader as both girls caught up in their mother's spell, rubbed Bryan's glistening semen into their breasts' cleavage and across their middles.
'I can't… oh, I can't stand the feel… it's so nice…' wailed Pammy, writhing to her back before an astonished Bryan, almost in the grip of her own climax.
Somehow, some way, the girls – now even Mrs. Pritchard could only be thought of as girl – shed their panties and to his disbelieving eyes, tumbled and tangled in a luscious bundle of female flesh. No words, only panting and groaning as they spread the residue of his ejaculation on the others' bodies, then wriggled wildly in their own self-stimulation.
Uncomprehending, but captivated, Bryan watched an old patchwork quilt he hadn't noticed before twist and bunch under the interwoven legs and arms.
It was Pammy's sex center, facing directly toward him in the midst of sunshiny pink flesh, that caught his attention. The girl was possessed as she drove two, then three long, lovely fingers into herself. He gawked in fascination. Not only was it his first time to watch a female stimulate herself, it was his first close view of a girl's most personal self.
Denise Pritchard swirling out of the clouds of her own erotic self-play, saw his fixed gaze on her daughter's aunt and knew. Bryan Archer Quinby never had seen a female like this before. It was a crazy/wonderful opportunity.
'Show him, Pammy,' she hissed. 'Let him see your pretty love trigger.'
As though hypnotized, the fingers stroked open the labial gates and exposed the nubbin of the girl's clitoris. Taut and trembling, sheathed in its darkish almond-shaped cover, the clit stood proudly. Pammy attacked it savagely with her fingers. In wild surrender to her sensations she let go, writhing and arching. Lifting her nubile figure in a crescent from the barn floor, she let Bryan watch her climax.
And then it was done. The girls lay in a breathless tangle of happy bodies, staring up at a still roped Bryan.
'You are bothered again!' Mrs. Pritchard accused, glaring meaningfully at his groin. 'It's just as the girls said. You haven't any limit.'
'Yeah… hey, lemme down…' he begged.
'You are to be tied a prisoner till we are through with you or till you die. Do you hear me, Bryan Quinby? You are our sex slave and you are the tool for my daughters' learning.'
'Hey… look, Missus.'
She waved imperiously to her daughters and on pre-arranged signal they cut him down from his suspension and dragged him to the strange appearing wheel she had been working on when he arrived.
He made no resistance, too enthralled by the feel of warm hands clutching under his arms and the delicious rub of hips and boobs against his body as they dragged him. 'What's this thing?'
'This ancient water wheel, dear boy, is your sex torture rack. Strap him to it, girls.' Denise pointed to the oak-planked barrel-shaped rack.
The girls dragged his naked form, still bound, still fiercely aroused, to the step-up onto the formidable
