Gammenthaler's Monster Pt. 01

Gammenthaler's Monster or The Modern Phallus

All characters are fictional and over 18.

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Lying face down in a sea of fur and cotton linen, Sam tried to focus on the flames dancing on top of the candelabra in the corner. The smoldering wicks in the center of each yellow-orange mote were curled tightly at their peaks.

"How did they burn endlessly without snuffing out?" he wondered.

Sam's mind returned abruptly to his current situation. The candles reminded him too much of the burning in his anus and he quickly scanned the room for another mental reprieve. Before he could begin to count the threads on the tapestry hanging at the head of the bed, the fleshy bludgeon that occupied his bowel was suddenly removed.

His rectum made a humiliating slurping sound as it gulped in air to fill his previously occupied cavity. The firm hands pushing his waist down into the bed were removed and he was thankful for the opportunity to breathe deeply again.

He imagined what his poor anus might look like in this moment, the outer ring red and puffy from the recent assault. No longer a tight, wrinkled ring of muscle, it now felt like it hung loosely open, agape in astonishment at the rude entry and possession by a foreign object.

A cool wetness slid its way out of his aching hole. Gravity pulled it down across his perineum and his smooth scrotum. Sam hoped that it was the clove oil his Mistress had massaged along the length of her cyclopean rod earlier in the evening and not blood. While injury was a minor concern, Sam was more worried that the sight of blood might invigorate his dominant lover further.

Sam's hand moved instinctually to his bottom to investigate the damage that had been inflicted upon him. His index finger lightly touched the tender flesh of his anus, probing the rim for any tears.

"Examining my work?" a sultry female voice questioned.

Sam pulled his hand away from his swollen ring. Fearing that he had angered her, he returned his hand to the iron columns of the enormous headboard. Wrapping his hand around the cool metal bar he was almost surprised to not find indents from where he had gripped them tightly during the previous row. If it wasn't for the burning in his rear passage, the throbbing muscles in his hands would dominate his attention.

"No... put it back", she reassured him. "Show me."

Sam was frozen in place by her utterance.

She had entered his room and then entered him without a word. She had taken him for her own pleasure without any verbal acknowledgment. This had become somewhat of a nightly ritual and in the dozens of times she had worked her hard shaft into him, the only sound had been the rhythmic clapping of her strong thighs against his ass cheeks and her staccato moaning when she ultimately reached orgasm.

"Spread your ass so I can see," she clarified. Her tone was firm but a lilt in her voice revealed her desperate yearning to penetrate him again.

Slowly, Sam released his grip of the thin shafts and reached behind himself once more. He ran his hands across the smooth, curved skin of his firm rear. Once he reached the deep crack in the center, he applied pressure to either side and raised his hips slightly exposing his cherry red button for her.

"No," she corrected him. "Get on your knees and do it right."

Sam felt a pang of embarrassment run through his stomach.

"Why had I moved!?" he thought to himself as he pushed his chest off the bed. "She would have finished by now if I had just stayed still and not given her this lewd idea."

Sam continued the self-deprecation as he pushed himself upright onto his knees. He briefly looked down past his hairless chest and smooth stomach so as to steady himself on the soft mattress. His equally smooth cock, now free of its cotton cubby hole, stood proudly away from his body, revealing his shameful arousal. He would have used his hands to hide his excitement, but they were already occupied with the opposite intention.

He noticed a small puddle of cum on the sheet where his groin had been resting. "More like being pummeled into..." he thought. He knew he hadn't cum but apparently the insistent truncheon in his bowels had forcefully battered the cum out of him without his knowledge. Sam shut his eyes tightly trying to mentally escape from his humiliating realty.

Sam felt a hand on his upper back push him forward.

"Can't you do anything right?" she asked rhetorically. "Bend over!"

He finally got the hint. With his knees spread, he bent over at the waist and reached back with his hands. Balancing his weight on his head, he spread himself for her.

"Oooohh yeah, that's it", her words made him shiver slightly. "Look at me... I want you to see what comes next."

Sam thought for a moment then, without moving his hands, shifted his weight from his head to his shoulder. He craned his neck to get a cockeyed view of his domineering master. She stood at the foot of the bed slowly polishing her slick monster.

An exquisite leather corset compressed her rib cage contorting her body into a wonderful hourglass shape. The finely crafted piece of lingerie stopped just short of her small breasts. Even in the dim glow of the candle light, Sam could tell her nipples were hard with excitement.

She released her grip of the impressive tool hanging from her hips. It sank heavily under the strain of its own weight and wobbled lewdly between her thick thighs as she turned and moved towards a dark oak cabinet in the corner of the room.

Her hefty ass cheeks bumped up and down in languid rhythm with her steps. If it wasn't for the somatic piston swinging from her crotch, her broad rear-end would be her most striking feature. The long heels of her thigh high boots made sharp, metrical cracks on the stone floor as she returned to the bed.

She had retrieved some sort of contraption from the dark armoire. It was a strange geometry of metal and rubber about the size of a fist with strips of well-tanned leather draped through her fingers. Peering awkwardly around the bend of his exposed ass, Sam could also make out the glint of clear glass baubles about the size of copper coins adorning the metal frame. A snake-pit of dark wires coiled into a long cord that dropped down to the floor and slithered away into the darkness of the large room.

Sam watched intently as she began to unfold various bits of bobs of the strange contraption. His anus flexed involuntarily as he suddenly came to the realization that it resembled a fitted harness. She stepped through the harness one leg at a time, slinging the strange umbilical through her legs.

With considerable effort, she stretched the ring of rubber with one hand and guided her thick cock through its center finally releasing the rubber at the base where her rod met her torso. She moaned slightly and flexed her perineum, enjoying the feeling of the constricting rubber which was now causing her thick meat to swell. The two leather straps ran under each of her bulky ass cheeks and snapped into the metal ring now secure about her waist.

"Sam, do you know what an 'Electrick entity' is?" She asked him knowing he had no idea. She often enjoyed tyrannizing him with her vast knowledge.

"N-No Doctor," Sam offered weakly.

"Well while it may be difficult for a layman to comprehend, organic bodies can be artificially made to exhibit properties of an Electrick base metal," she spoke casually as she reached for the glass vessel of pale yellow clove oil resting on the floor.

"This serves as an exceptional lubricant as you are already aware but what you don't know yet is that it also makes an excellent solution for the conduction of Electrick energy." She reached into the vessel and retrieved a cupped handful of dripping oil. She applied the oil liberally to her unnaturally swollen cock, working the thick grease around her bulging head and down her shaft in long strokes. She wiped the excess off as best she could in the crack of Sam's waiting ass, quickly slipping two fingers into his freshly fucked asshole.

"You know what lightning is... don't you?" she asked, messaging the oil around the inner ring of his puffy, pink anus.

Sam curled his toes and shut his eyes in pleasure. "Yes!" he gasped, enjoying his master's ministrations. He reveled in the feeling of her fingers palpating his sphincter. He wasn't sure whether he feared or longed for the return of her ravishing cock to his barren rectum.

He gyrated his hips with the thought of her divine member once again extracting the pleasurable riches from his forbidden chamber; delving into his craven crevice without regard; pumping his dark well over and over again until the moment finally came when she bathed his infertile womb with her milky seed.

Sam floated back to the present as his well-endowed master unsheathed her slick fingers from his rear. The erotic haze behind his eyes was suddenly cleared by a crackling surge of blue light that burst forth from the glass baubles girding her harness.

Thin, jagged tendrils of blue-white lightning danced around the base of her glistening cock; a spectral menagerie of prismatic light endlessly refracted within the oily medium. Her heavy, hulking balls were bathed in the strobing glow of her newly augmented 'lightning rod'.

"That may be too intense for an initial test," she said to herself fiddling with a bulky segment of her harness.

The ethereal bolts shrank in intensity, retreating down her shaft until they resembled nothing more than a dim sparking as if Zeus himself had spun her pubic hair from scraps of forged light.

His master seemed content with this configuration and turned her attention to her waiting subject.

"Sam," she spoke soothingly as she placed one hand on his quivering rump, "as I fuck your ass, I want you to describe for me how you feel."

Sam felt a buzzing at the entrance of his sensitive anus as his master carefully lined her bulging cock up with his expectant hole.

"And remember, this is for posterity, so be honest."

His master leaned into him, forcing her thick girl-cock through his tight ring once again.

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Dr. Camille Gammenthaler was an intimidating woman. She stood head and shoulders above most of the men in the village that Sam had called home all his life. Her raven black hair ran long and unnaturally straight past her thin waist. Her stern face was beautiful with sharp features and her dark eyes darted back and forth with an intelligent focus. Nothing like the vacant eyes of the farmer's daughter Sam would sometimes sneak away with on moonless nights.

When Sam had first seen Camille, she had come to his father's stable to have her horse re-shoed. She wore a corset that pushed her small breasts together and made her considerably large hips and buttocks look even larger. Dressed in all black she immediately stood out among the common uneducated rabble of Sam's small hamlet.

There had been talk and rumor of a new resident of the Tharnham Manor. The small castle (or large mansion) rested in the foothills a half days ride north of the village. It had been uninhabited since Sam could remember. A former home of a childless Mayor, the townsfolk stayed away claiming "strange sounds in the night". No one had heard the sounds themselves of course. Nonetheless, there was no reason for peasants to occupy such an unwieldy estate, haunted or not.

Sam had avoided her direct gaze when Camille had come to the stable that day. Busying himself with his pitchfork, he would steal glances and her considerable rear when he thought she wouldn't notice. His father excused himself to make a trip to the blacksmith for the new shoes and Sam felt his throat swell when he realized that he would be left alone with this imposing dark figure.

"You seem small for a farrier," she stated in a matter of fact tone. There was no question in her voice, merely observation.

"M'lady?" Sam felt stupid even before he finished saying it. He had no idea how to address someone of her stature. His face went red and he vowed to never speak to a woman again.

"It's Doctor Gammenthaler", she corrected him revealing the tiniest of grins, amused by his befuddlement.

"I'm sorry Doc—"

"Don't speak", the Doctor interrupted him before he could finish.

Sam actually felt relief being released from the expectation of fruitful conversation.

"Put that down," she commanded referring to the pitchfork "and put your arms out straight."

Without question, Sam did as she said. He was surprised at how quickly he acquiesced, as if her voice were a spell that compelled him.

The Doctor ran her soft, pale hands along his frame. Tracing over his arms and shoulders, confirming what she already thought. His body was strong and lithe from a short life of labor but he was not destined to be a work horse. Much too short and thin to be suitable for the hard life of a hired man, he may be suitable for another purpose.

"Spread your legs." Again Sam did as commanded.

The Doctor moved to his back. Kneeling down, she ran her hands along his legs. Sam, being a young man, could not help but become semi-erect in a matter of seconds. A woman had never touched him like this before and despite the seemingly medical nature of the inspection, her hands running along his inner thighs would elicit an effect nonetheless. Sam's hopes that she wouldn't notice were utterly destroyed when she suddenly brought her hand up and grasped his balls.

Sam let out a yelp and hopped slightly but otherwise did not change his position. She thankfully released her grip and ran her hand up along his now rigid prick. She gave the head a familiar squeeze then removed her hand entirely.

"Lower your breeches," Camille said firmly.

Sam suddenly realized that his mouth was devoid of saliva. His drawn attention compelled him to swallow but it stuck in his throat.

"M-My Father may return..."

"Your Father will want the best for you. How am I to make a decision without a proper inspection? Perhaps I should take my custom elsewhere. Your Father is not the only farrier in the village you know and certainly not the best."

The commanding tone and veiled threats formed a powerful concoction and Sam found himself undoing the knot of the belt around his waist.

"I-I'm not... I carry no diseases..." Sam's mind grasped desperately and in vain for a comprehensible reason for the inspection.

"Down!" she returned swiftly. He had already burned through her supply of patience.

He let his breeches fall to his ankles and stood awkwardly not sure if he should untangle his ankles from the mess of fabric now lying about his feet. He moved his hands to cover his erection, obviously not realizing Camille's true interest lied elsewhere.

Sam nearly jumped from his skin when he felt her warm hand graze the cleft of his ass.

"Your skin is so smooth, and not a lock of hair to be found. Does your father bring you in with the lambs to be sheared in the spring?" Her words would have stung if Sam had any sense of male prowess to insult. He had often felt embarrassed when compared to the other menfolk of the village. Despite his reasonable strength he was much smaller than average for his age. When the other boys began sprouting hair in the pits of their arms and above their budding pricks, Sam stood out even more.

The meanest of the bunch, Heriolf, took to calling Sam 'Whale-kin' due to his shiny, smooth skin that glistened in the sunshine whenever the boys went swimming in the river. Heriolf not only had thick hair in his pits. His legs, chest and ass were all covered in a thick matte of dark brown hair. He would stand naked and proud on the bank of the river; hands on hips, legs slightly spread and make rude comments to the other boys. He once went as far as to give Sam's bare, hairless ass a smack, "You'll mek eh'fine wife sum dey Whale-Kin!" The other boys howled with laughter, "Show me your cunny Sam!"

Sam had not returned to the river after that.

Sam had almost forgotten the question, "No Miss, just hasn't come it yet is all."

"And how old are you Sam?"

"I am eighteen Miss."

"Hmm, ripe enough then. A few more years on the vine won't change much."

Still behind Sam, The Doctor ran her hand down further into the dark crevice of his youthful ass. She used her palm to confidently inspect the firm round globes. Her touch was absent for a moment and Sam turned to see her pulling her middle finger out of her mouth, her lips gently gripping the wet, white digit as it was extracted. Sam's cock bounced softly at the sight of Camille's thin lips wrapped around her appendage. He thought for a moment what her warm mouth might feel like wrapped around him.

Camille returned her hand to his ass and her saliva coated finger began its search for a warm, tight target. She quickly found his wrinkled bulls-eye.

"Have you ever had your sweet hole stuffed Sam?" she asked working the saliva into the folds of his asshole.

"Any of the other boys around here ever used you for a practice fuck?" she whispered in his ear putting extra emphasis on the 'fuck' as she pushed her finger into him. "I'm sure this plump little ass drew more than just my own attention."

Sam felt like his cock might explode from the pleasure of her probing. He had never touched himself there, except to clean, but even then he had felt nothing other than a mild disgust. What he felt now was anything but aversion. He felt consumed by the taboo nature of having his asshole finger fucked by a woman. The danger of being discovered! His father suddenly appearing in the doorway and witnessing this erotic coupling! What a scene to come upon!

Sam's pants around his ankles, his smooth cock at full mast, Doctor Gammenthaler two knuckles deep in his saliva slick sphincter. The thought terrified and excited him.

Camille slid her finger in and out of his tight asshole with some effort.

"Or are you a virgin flower?" In and out.

"Tell me Sam..." In and out again. A slight twist. A minor curl. Sam wiggled his ass to accommodate.

"Has your purple pimpernel ever been...plucked!?" Sam bounced off his heels as Camille shoved a second finger into his asshole, stretching him thoroughly.

"OH...!" he exclaimed with a gasp, reaching a hand back to grasp at her wrist. The illicit pleasure he had felt was now overshadowed by a burning fullness. Camille curled her fingers into a hook and pulled upwards against Sam's defiant ring, stretching him even further. He felt like she might pull him clear off the ground!

All of sudden Camille withdraw her fingers from his trembling anus.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," she stated calmly as she composed herself.

"Yes," she answered her own unspoken question. She wiped her fingers off with a black handkerchief, "I think you would make a lovely assistant."

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Sam's father was all too happy to be rid of the runt. He would have given Sam away for free to unburden himself from his physically stunted son who could never hope to produce more than he ate. Although he had to admit that lab assistant seemed fitting for his son as it required less physical labor. How Sam would be able to work in a lab when he couldn't so much as read or add was now the tall Doctor's problem.

The Doctor had returned a few days later with a hired coach to transport Sam, his belongings and various bits of lab equipment that had been delivered to the local trade post. Sam's first official task was loading the various strange metal and glass objects onto the coach. His first unofficial task would follow soon after.

Sam had expected to walk behind the horse drawn coach on the long trek into the hills but was pleasantly surprised when the Doctor invited him to ride with her. He was so excited to avoid the blistering walk that his anxiety was abated until his knees were pressed tightly against Camille's in the cramped cabin. As the coach began to bounce along the poorly kept trail, her legs rubbing against his own began to elicit a new type of excitement.