Aunt Phoebe's Masturbatorium Ch. 03

The American was now on the alert, realizing that his companion might be right. Both men took their weapons in hand and stood up facing in the direction of the rapidly approaching footsteps.

"It's probably just a few deer," the American said nervously. "Or maybe some poacher friends of yours."

Anton lifted his rifle to his shoulder. "Put out the light," he said hastily.

The American begrudgingly obeyed but his voice betrayed a growing anxiety.

"It has to be an animal, what else could it be?"

"Be quiet you fool!" the Frenchman rasped.

Within seconds the golden glow from their lanterns was extinguished and all I could see was their dim outlines framed eerily in the subtle aura of moonlight. It was suddenly very quiet, and all that could be heard was the sound of the dead leaves as they were driven aimlessly to and fro by the night wind.

The two men stood frozen like statues, their rifles ready and poised to shoot at whatever mysterious intruder was hiding from them in the nearby thicket. I slowly turned my head toward the direction in which they were facing, careful not to make any noise lest they mistake me for some wild animal and open fire. For some moments the two men and I remained absolutely still, they completely unaware of me, but all of us facing the same lurking terror in silence.

Suddenly I heard a very sharp whistling sound and saw Anton's body shift violently to the right.

"Jésus!" the Frenchman cried as his rifle fell from his hands.

"What is it?" the American yelled. "Anton, are you all right?"

"Sauve qui peut!" the man screamed as his body fell to the ground.

"Anton!"

The American immediately fired off two rounds into the nearby bushes and then I heard the same whistling sound followed by a long succession of curse words. Within seconds, several large figures dashed out from behind the bushes.

"You fucks!" the American screamed as he fell to his knees in pain.

He made one futile attempt to aim his gun at the attackers but it was kicked out of his hand. He groaned loudly and collapsed onto the ground beside his silent partner.

I was so frightened that my entire body was shaking violently, and adding to my distress was the fact that whomever had attacked the two men might now turn their attentions toward the cringing buddle of flesh lying half exposed in the forest debris. From what I could see, both men were now lying prostrate on the ground, rifles at their side, unmoving. I didn't know whether they were dead or paralyzed, but I tried to remain as quiet as possible under the circumstances, fearful that if my presence were revealed, I might end up in the same condition as the two hapless hunters.

And then, to my amazement, I saw several more figures dash out from behind a small outcropping of bushes toward the two fallen men. They were men—very large men. Their huge, muscular bodies moved swiftly and silently as they bent down to inspect the fallen men. A few moments elapsed and then one of them said something in French to an accomplice and both the inert bodies of Anton and the American were lifted onto the shoulders of two of the assailants and hurriedly carried away while the others retrieved the rifles and backpacks. The fox was carefully lifted up and placed in a canvas bag. When they had concluded their business, the last of the intruders disappeared into the thicket with the bag, singing gaily in his heavy French accent.

At one point I almost called out to these interlopers to come to my aid, but once again, I decided to remain silent. I knew for one thing that these people could not be the police. And the few French words I could understand seemed to suggest that they found too much sinister enjoyment in the procurement of the two men, and that some dismal fate awaited them both. For all I knew, they might just be another gang of poachers who wanted to perpetrate mischief. The missiles that struck the two men sounded to me like arrows buzzing through the air, and poachers had been known to use the bow and arrow to kill their prey—or, on occasion, their competition.

I estimated that the entire incident had probably lasted for no longer than a few minutes, which led me to assume that my two erstwhile companions may have been tracked for some time prior to their apprehension, the stalkers waiting for just the right moment to catch the two men off guard. It occurred to me then that the Frenchman might have been correct after all: the disappearance of his friends could have indeed been attributed to these marauders—men who scoured the countryside at night for just such a purpose. But, if so, what was the reason for these abductions? I would have to inform my aunt Phoebe and the police about this incident as soon as I got home.

The wind had grown quite calm by this time, and I was once more able to gather a substantial amount of leaves around me. I knew by the position of the moon that it was still several hours until dawn, and settled into my makeshift bed once more, contentedly warm and snug under the layers of leaves despite the chilly air. Although I was still feeling uneasy over what had recently transpired, I finally managed to fall asleep, thankful that I had not been discovered, nor foolish enough to have willingly given away my position.

I dreamt of Craig. The young, blonde, Swedish boy, and his performance at the Masturbatorium, had left an indelible impression upon my mind. He seemed so sweet, so unaffected and genuine that he had immediately stolen my heart. In looks he reminded me of a very young Robert Redford, with the same amazing blue eyes and incredible smile. I didn't mind that he had chosen me as his target during his performance the previous day. In fact, I thought it was so sexy that I could feel and taste his creamy hot cum all over my face and hair. I don't know if that was what he intended, but his devilish smile told me it certainly was possible.

In my dream, the two of us were standing in the middle of my aunt's vineyard. I was fully clothed but his pants and underwear had been pulled down to his ankles. It was a bright, sunny, day.

"I want to suck you off," I said, as I kneeled before him and pulled his twelve and three-quarter-inch prick into my open mouth.

"I think you should know that I haven't cum in almost a week," he warned me.

"Oh," I replied. "I might not be able to swallow the whole load."

"Why don't you just catch it in your hand?" he said with a grin. "I love it when you do that to me."

"Don't be silly, Craig," I said. "We've never had sex before. This is the first time."

He looked at me quizzically. "Is it? I could have sworn I fucked you before."

"You're so romantic!" I said, giving his muscular ass a hard slap.

As I started to blow him, I heard the sound of female voices coming from behind me. I quickly turned around and saw that there was a crowd of about thirty girls, my own age or older, standing a short distance away enjoying the show. They were all dressed up in school uniforms and all wore their hair in pigtails.

"You had better suck him off very well, mademoiselle," a big-breasted blonde said to me in broken English.

"Or he will not want you!" said another, taunting me.

All the girls then laughed in unison and proceeded to dance and sing amongst the rows of fruit-laden bushes.

"Go away!" I shouted to them. "You are not welcome here!"

"We will not go away," said the blonde, adamantly. "If you cannot suck him off, then one of us will have to do it."

"Craig," I said. "Tell them to go away."

"Why?" he replied. "Aren't they your friends?"

I shook my head. "No. I've never seen them before."

"Of course you have. Look, there's your aunt Phoebe right there in front."

The blonde with the big tits was now looking somewhat older than before, goading me, rebuking me for my reluctance to proceed with the blowjob. And the more she shouted at me, the more she began to look like my aunt, until I realized that it was indeed she, but as she would have appeared if she were my own age and still in college.

"Come on," my look-a-like aunt said to me. "I want to see you suck his big dick!"

"Yes," a slim, sassy brunette agreed. "We want to see you suck. Suck!"

All the girls took up the chant, drowning out all my objections.

"I really need to cum," Craig said, as his huge tool swung to and fro in front of my face. "Let them watch if they want to."

"I can't believe this!" I said, feeling both angry yet turned on by the fact that we were being observed.

There was no way I was going to be able to completely accommodate his towering organ in my mouth, so I swallowed as much of it as I could and let my hands play with the bottom part of his shaft and his huge, superheated balls. He moaned softly as my head moved up and down on his pole with a consistent momentum, the taste of his salty effluences saturating my tongue as each moment brought him closer to orgasm.

"Keep sucking!" my aunt said. "And pull your mouth away when he cums. We want to see him shoot his seed into the air!"

I paid her and the others no attention. All I wanted was to please Craig, and I didn't care one bit if my audience enjoyed what I was doing or not.

The abundant cream in his sac was now forcing his balls up into his body and I knew from this telltale sign, as I had witnessed with Delvin, that the eruption of sperm was not far off.

"I'm almost there baby," Craig rasped between clenched teeth. "Tell the girls to come close so I can give them what they want."

I pulled my mouth away from his prick but continued to stroke him violently with both hands.

"Why?" I asked. "What do they want?"

"My sperm!" he blurted out. "They need it...for the ritual."

"That's right!" my aunt said loudly. "Let us come closer now so that each of us can catch some of the god's cum in each of our hands!"

"God?" I said looking askance at them. "Are you people crazy?"

Even as I said these words I felt suddenly awash in a brilliant display of golden radiance that extended from the top of Craig's head to the bottom of his feet. His face had remained the same, but he was now completely naked, his magnificent torso gracing the landscape like some ancient colossus. The women laughed and cheered as they came closer to him, some even encouraging me with smiles and gestures to finish the job.

"Gather round, gather round," sang my aunt to her cluster of acolytes. "Welcome the god's offering with open hands!"

Now the women danced and laughed more furiously than before, their bodies writhing in throes of ecstasy as they whirled around me and Craig, their arms outstretched, awaiting to be bathed in the fruitful seed of his loins.

As I continued to jack off his big dick, his body seemed to grow taller and his cock longer. I could not account for this phenomenon and thought it quite strange, although the women seemed to regard it as perfectly normal. Soon the huge penis had grown so long and wide that my hands proved insufficient to continue masturbating it. Seeing this, my aunt instructed several women to assist me, and soon there were a half-dozen pairs of willing hands rubbing the now four-foot-long shaft, which was now ready to explode its creamy contents into the air.

Craig screamed aloud as he felt an overwhelming pleasure overtake his now stiff body, poised as it was with his head thrown back and his hips arched forward, his prick on the verge of releasing its pent-up load of semen.

"It is done!" my aunt look-a-like shouted.

She knew, as did I, that as Craig's balls, now the size of two ripe watermelons, began to contract and drive upwards into his body, a torrent of sperm would soon follow, and she quickly applied her own two hands in concert with the rest of us. This last action proved to be decisive, as now the massive organ reared back and prepared to fire its molten load.

With his body now completely at the mercy of all of our pumping fists, he grunted loudly and we watched as the first in a long series of ejaculations commenced.

"Oh, my God!" one of the women cried as I watched her head roll back to witness the event.

Most of the women let out similar exclamations as we watched a very thick, elongated rope of sperm shot out of the tip of his cock and fly completely over our heads and into a small outcropping of bushes an incredible 50 feet away.

"Sacré merde!" my aunt laughed as portions of the god's copious offering found its way into her hair.

Many other women got hit too, as my hands continued to coax out the molten seed.

The next volley of hot cream again shot out wildly into the air far above our heads and in the general vicinity of the first shot. Realizing that most of the sperm was being lost, my aunt quickly guided the massive prick downward and toward the open palms of the women where rope after rope of pearly semen shot out in abundant and joyous release, splashing into fingers and palms, coating bare, outstretched arms with a hot, sticky patina of whitish lacquer.

Some of the women cupped their hands together to receive a greater portion of the god's sperm, after which they drew back and proceeded to run among the open rows of the vineyard, allowing the residue of cum to drip from their hands onto the waiting vines below, in dutiful obeisance to their frenzied ritual. With each spurt, Craig seemed to grow taller and taller, and the golden aura surrounding him increased exponentially until I was forced to shut my eyes from the brilliant light.

End of Chapter 3