Craig & Irene Ch. 03

byjeffrey214©

The ladies looked at each other and winked, silently mouthing "Oh, my" and "big penis" to each other with gleeful expressions on their faces.

Nurse Wanda finally broke the spell as she began to un-strap the boy's restraints, and many of the ladies' hands helped him gently off the table until he stood before them on shaky legs, with his limp penis still stretched out and dangling over his low-hanging testicles.

Craig just relaxed and stood silently, allowing the women to feast their eyes on his sated, relaxed nakedness.

Slowly, he was led again to another door, with the mature ladies' hands on his bottom, hips, and shoulders helping guide him to his next destination.

The door opened and Craig found himself in a large locker room. There were many padded benches around the floor and a few lockers here and there against the walls, leaving the room completely open. There were several other mature women in pretty dresses walking around, carrying towels or swimming gear.

Across the room was a shower area, without walls or doors, where several boys about Craig's age were showering under the watchful eyes of the various ladies who were holding towels patiently. A few boys were just out of the showers, standing with legs apart and arms raised as two or three mature women wiped them down with towels.

Craig saw that all the other boys were not only naked, but they too were shaved of hair, and all the boys had genitals that seemed a little large compared to their relatively slight but muscular bodies. He noted that their builds were similar to his, and their genitals were large like his.

One wall, across from the showers, was completely mirrored and Craig saw his reflection. He looked at himself, fully naked and surrounded by mature well-dressed women. He saw that his skin was almost uniformly pale, now that there was no visible darker hair below his waist, with the exception of his genitals, which were clearly a darker shade and sort of pink.

His penis and scrotum were identical in color, with just his head a little darker pink. The overall effect was to further amplify his explicit nakedness. He noticed that the eyes of the women with him were also studying his body in the mirror, and he felt at least three hands busy caressing his bottom as he stood. It was a little unnerving to realize that he had no idea which of the smiling ladies in the mirror were fondling him.

Nurse Wanda broke the silence, "Dear, I'm going to leave you in the capable hands of Mrs. Cahey. She'll be in charge of you while you get ready to swim." With that, Wanda left.

Craig looked up to see a smiling red-head, possibly in her early 60's, who said, "Hi, Craig, I'm Mrs. Cahey. Let's get you into the shower, shall we?"

"Yes, Ma'am," he said, and he let her guide him toward the showers.

Mrs. Cahey and 3 other ladies watched him soap up and rinse off, while they held towels at the ready. Craig came out and, taking note of what the other boys had done, stood with spread legs and raised arms, allowing the ladies to dry him off. He noticed Mrs. Cahey was in front of him and spent the entire time making sure his tummy, inner thighs, and especially his genitals were nice and dry while the other ladies saw to the rest of him.

While being dried off, Craig had the chance to look around the room more, seeing each of perhaps 6 other boys being taken care of by groups of 2 or 3 mature Boosters. Some boys were being helped into their swimming practice costumes, which made Craig's tummy flip with submissive feelings.

The little swimming costume that the boys were being dressed in consisted of nothing but little pale yellow strings attached to a little yellow pouch. The pouches had the usual elastic band at the opening, and were of a completely sheer, thin, and clingy pale yellow fabric.

So, when a boy was dressed and guided out the door toward the pool, he was effectively naked, with just his genitals enclosed in a sheer pouch. Craig shivered at the thought of walking around in one of those pouches, in front of who knows how many mature female strangers...

Craig noticed that one boy was being gotten back out of his pouch by his handlers, and then he was led over to lie down on a padded bench in the corner. Once the boy had laid down on his back, it was obvious that he was beginning to have an erection.

One of the boy's Matrons sat on a bench next to his hips and proceeded to begin to stroke his penis vigorously as the other two women looked on.

One of Craig's Matrons whispered into his ear from behind. "Thomas has had a little stiffness, which is not appropriate for swimming practice. Mrs. Anderson is going to help him be a good boy by relieving his seminal pressures. His penis is Mrs. Anderson's responsibility today, so she'll take care of him quickly, and he'll be right along, I'm sure."

"Yes, Ma'am," Craig whispered back, thinking how embarrassing it would be to have an erection and have to be 'relieved' right in front of everyone.

Guessing his thoughts, the lady behind him whispered, "It's quite normal, dear. We ladies all know that our boys can't control their penises, and we're more than happy to care for our boy's genital needs."

"Yes, Ma'am," said Craig, swallowing hard and still feeling nervous as he watched Thomas begin to writhe and moan under the experienced ministrations of Mrs. Anderson. Thomas's other two Matrons put gentle hands on his body, helping him lie still and not fall from the bench as his ejaculation approached.

In seconds, the boy gasped and stiffened on the bench as Mrs. Anderson stroked his turgid penis yet more vigorously, forcing his first spurt of semen to splash onto his belly. She continued to work the boy's penis, drawing spurt after spurt of semen from him, as she seemed to roll and squeeze his testicles with her other hand.

The two matrons had to use both hands on his chest and thighs to hold the boy down still as his body convulsed and flexed in ejaculation. Once his last spurt had been pulled out of his body, he relaxed with a large exhalation as Mrs. Anderson expertly milked additional pearly drops to the last.

As Craig was led away toward his locker, he noted that the three Matrons attending to the boy Thomas, were each sliding their fingers along his belly, wiping up the semen the boy had spilled upon himself. Craig didn't see any cloths or tissues in evidence, and wondered what the ladies were planning to do with the semen they were wiping up with their hands...

Craig stopped in front of a small locker, with his name on it. Mrs. Cahey opened the unlocked door and took out the two items that were inside on a shelf. One item was a tube of lotion, marked "Andre Genital Development". Craig was familiar with this product.

The ladies each took a glob on their fingers, and four hands began to compete for space as they rubbed the lotion into every tiny nook and crevice of his genitalia. Craig felt the usual tingle associated with the lotion, but having already been well-milked twice before 10AM, he felt no swelling or throbbing in his penis, though he suspected that the ladies were secretly trying to elicit a little stiffening.

After the lotion was applied, the ladies helped Craig step between the strings of the little g-string pouch, and then Mrs. Cahey took her time to hold the elastic open while tucking his large but soft genitals into the easily-expandable sheer pouch.

The ladies positioned the strings properly on his hips and the cleft of his bottom, and he was ready. He looked again at himself in the mirror, seeing now that his very naked pale body had a yellow pouch of genitals dangling between his thighs instead of a pink penis and testicles.

Mrs. Cahey said, "Ok, Craig, let's go out to the pool."

"Yes, Ma'am," he said, as the ladies led him out the pool doorway.

They emerged into an arena with an Olympic pool in the center and bleachers on either side. The bleachers were about half full with perhaps as many as 50 women on each side, all dressed nicely, and all mature ladies in their 40's, 50's, and 60's.

Sprinkled here and there in the crowd were perhaps a dozen younger gals, in their 20's and 30's, which Craig rightly assumed were guests of the Booster members. These women were daughters, nieces, and close family friends of the Boosters.

Craig felt very strangely weak as so many of the eyes of the women turned to examine him as he emerged from the doorway, with his pale yellow pouch wiggling in front of his thighs as he stepped. He felt so exposed before so many women, and while it made his tummy flip and his knees feel weak, he couldn't help but feel that it was good to be so nearly naked in front of all the fully dressed women.

The women in the half-full bleachers were all pushed toward the ends of the seating nearest the starting blocks, so as Craig approached Coach Mathews, all the women in attendance were no more than 30 feet from him.

The coach was a nice looking woman of about 55, with short blond hair and sparkling green eyes. She smiled at Craig and motioned him closer.

"Hi, Craig, you're our last team member for the summer. Welcome aboard. I see you've been assigned Mrs. Cahey, she's a great Booster and will surely take good care of you today. I want you to go ahead and take lane five and just swim some freestyle warm-up laps at perhaps half speed. Once you feel good, go ahead and report back to me."

"Yes, Ma'am," he said.

Craig saw that of the 8 lanes, 6 were already filled with boys swimming slowly to warm up. One boy was climbing the ladder out of the pool and Craig noticed that the women on that side of the pool were all turning their attention to that boy.

He saw the women's faces turn from focused interest to focused happiness as one when the boy stepped clear of the water. The Ladies were all smiling and their heads swiveled as one as the boy came toward them and then passed, as the ladies looked at the groin and then the naked bottom of the wet boy.

Only when the boy rounded the corner of the pool as he walked toward the coach did Craig see him from the front. Not only was this blond boy very well endowed, but his now-wet pouch was completely see-through, hiding nothing at all. The boy's fat penis was clearly visible, capped with a dark pink head that seemed swollen because of the exaggerated ridge of his crown. The big pink penis sat atop big swollen testicles, and his genitals hung low and swung widely with his fast steps.

No wonder the women liked to attend swimming practice - they effectively would get to view the boys so nearly naked that the pouch was just a procedural requirement and did nothing to diminish the ladies' viewing pleasure as they ogled the young male genitals and bottoms.

Craig noticed something else - something that he'd barely given thought to when he saw several boys in the shower. This boy seemed to have little blotches of pinkness on his bottom, which Craig couldn't understand. It was almost like he had fallen and a bruise or two were almost cleared up. Oh well, things happen...

Craig swam more and then it was time to get out. He took a deep breath as he began to climb the ladder, determined not to look down at his transparent pouch, nor to watch the faces of the women who were about to ogle his nakedness.

But once he was out of the water, he couldn't help but glance to see if the ladies were in fact looking at him. In the short glance, he saw happy faces and female eyes fixed just a little below his navel as he walked. He felt proud and nervous at the same time.

Secretly he hoped they liked looking at him, and he hoped they would all want to keep looking at his body. And super-secretly, he also hoped that the women would be imagining having their hands on him, caressing, fondling, feeling, and eventually milking him of his semen. He blushed at the fact that he liked the idea of all the women wanting to touch and feel his body.

Once he approached the Coach, she glanced at his sheer pouch and smiled. "You look very nice in your swimming suit, Craig."

The boy blushed, "If you say so, Ma'am," he said, looking down and seeing that his pouch was very transparent and knowing that the Coach was basically seeing his naked genitals. He fought the instinct to cover his exposure with his hands, but he knew not to do it.

Coach Mathews said, "You have a nice stroke, and I think you'll do fine. But I just got a note that you're required in the Dean's office. Probably some small administrative thing. You're certainly not in trouble as far as I know. So just go right to the Dean - Mrs. Cahey will take you there."

"Yes, Ma'am," he said, almost disappointed that he wouldn't get to make that walk past all the women in the bleachers again.

Mrs. Cahey appeared at Craig's side and led him back through the locker room and out into a hallway toward the front of the house. Craig sort of thought he'd be allowed to dress in something other than the little pouch, but apparently not.

All the way to the dean's office, Craig and Mrs. Cahey passed various women of various ages, all of whom made no effort to cover the fact that they were staring him directly in the groin, enjoying the view of his genitals in the little sheer pouch.

Arriving at the Dean's office, Mrs. Cahey opened the door and ushered Craig inside. She put her arm around him and whispered in his ear "You're a good boy. I'll see you in a little while." She gave him a little kiss on the cheek and left Craig standing in front of a large mahogany desk.

A mature woman entered the room, followed by two other ladies of younger ages. The severely dressed woman was Head Mistress Elizabeth Dawson, the queen of the institute, whom Craig had met at his interview before the board of regents, and who was certainly in her late 60's.

The other women seemed to be about mid 40's and mid 20's, possibly a mother and daughter, Craig thought.

Mrs. Dawson spoke. "Craig, this is Mrs. Powell, and her daughter Gwendolyn. Mrs. Powell is a Legacy Matron of the Institute, which is a rare and high honor." The two Powell women gracefully took their seats on chairs in front of Craig, as Mrs. Dawson sat behind her grand desk.

She continued, "A Legacy Matron is rare, Craig, but Mrs. Powell is a 4th generation legacy, and if all goes well, her daughter Gwendolyn will be the first 5th generation legacy."

A woman entered the room, delivering tea on a tray to the Dean and the Powell ladies, and then she left.

As the ladies sipped tea, the Dean spoke again. "Being a legacy, means that a woman's mother was a Junior Booster here at the Institute, and her father was a graduate as well. Mrs. Powell's husband is, of course a graduate, as were her father, grandfather, and great-grandfather. Mrs. Powell's brothers, and her son, are also graduates of the Institute. Gwendolyn has now decided to begin to interview boys as potential husbands upon their graduation, and such a process is best served when begun early."

After sipping again, the Dean said, "She has had a chance to interview each boy here for the summer, but since you have only now arrived, she will now interview you. As a submissive boy in training, I expect you to be on your best and most compliant behavior. Answer all of her questions truthfully and obey all of her instructions. Gwen's mother, Mrs. Powell, will also be present during the interview. Do you understand everything I've said?"

"Yes, Ma'am," said Craig, feeling very trapped under the control of the dominant women here at the institute. He also felt very naked and vulnerable standing in his little sheer pouch as the women examined him with their eyes.

"Good," said Mrs. Dawson, "Then Gwendolyn will now take charge of you." The dean nodded at the two blond women, mother and daughter, and the pair stood as one.

The younger woman, the daughter Gwen, took Craig's hand with a smile and led him to a small room aside from the dean's office. Her mother followed and closed the door after them.

The room was warm and well furnished in subdued colors with a small couch and two padded chairs. The Mother took a seat in a chair, and the daughter sat on the sofa, pulling Craig to stand in front of her with his pouch now at her eye level.

The twenty-something Gwen, probably ten years Craig's senior, smiled up at him as she reached for the strings at his hips and began to tug them down.

"Let's have this off, Craig, I want to see you fully naked."

"Yes, Ma'am," he said, moving his hips and spreading his stance to help her as she pulled down his pouch and helped him step out of it before she slipped the little pouch into her purse. Craig obediently stood naked in front of her, hands at his sides, letting her feast her eyes on his genitals from only a foot away.

Slowly, she began to touch his genitals, probing and exploring his penis and testicles from every angle, pulling, pushing, prodding, and feeling every little bit. "He's bigger and lighter pink than daddy," she said to her mother, who smiled and nodded back to her daughter.

She looked up at Craig, and smiling she said, "Turn around please."

The boy turned to face the mother, whose eyes moved to his bare genitals and never moved from their focused examination.

Gwen said, "Bend over with your hands on your knees, Craig, and spread your feet well apart."

As he did so, he felt the young woman's hand reach between his thighs and cup his testicles in her palm, feeling their weight and shape. Her other hand caressed and fondled his bottom, exploring the tender pink flesh of his cleft as well as the roundness of his pale cheeks.

He felt her hand grip his testes firmly as she said, "Craig, I want you to hold still for me. Can you do that?"

"Yes, Ma'am," he said.

Just as the words passed his lips, he heard the SMACK of her hand coming down with a practiced swat upon his offered bottom. The stinging heat registered and he gasped in surprise but did well to hold still.

Gwen swatted his bottom again and again, building the stinging pain and heat of the spanking into his bottom and his mind. She expertly swatted into the cleft between his cheeks, spreading the stinging fiercely - as the sensation was twice as harsh on the tender pinkness between his bottom cheeks. This woman knew how to spank a male - how to get and hold his complete attention.

Between swats, she began to question the boy as she began the interview...

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