Little Dickie Ch. 04

Princess Inge removed from her purse a thin gold chain about ten feet in length. One end was clipped to a bracelet she wore on her wrist, and the other ran through the lock affixed to the clamp that had Clem bottled-up. She could pull on the chain if she chose, and was there a better way of getting a sub's attention? Clem was at last able to remove the frilly pink panties. "You really are small, aren't you? I was only joking before, but shit..." She peered closer. "Wait, do you have an erection?" Dickie did, and he smiled, hoping for the best. She grabbed his chin and stuck her face inches from his. "You should save your boners for when the clamp's off."

She sat down on the couch and crossed her legs seductively, though her hand covered her crotch; a show of modesty perhaps, or part of the training? Dickie was told to kneel in front of her. The first thing he had to do was figure out how to remove her anklet shoe, which was not easy when the price for failure could be dire. "I'm waiting," she said, impatiently. Dickie breathed a sigh of relief when he finally was able to ease the footwear off, and as a reward he got to admire Inge's lovely toes. Odd, but he didn't think that sucking on them was much in the way of punishment. He could tell that she put a lot of effort into their maintenance. The nails had a fresh coat of polish, they were perfectly shaped, they were squeaky clean, and he attacked them with gusto. He could gaze at her legs while doing so too, which enabled him to focus on something other than her crotch, no matter how tempting - not necessarily because he feared a boner, but because he feared retribution should she catch him peeking.

As always, Dickie put his best effort into everything he did, and he spent so much time on toe-number-one that Princess had to tell him get on with it. But her way of telling him also included a hard pull on the chain. If that was a harbinger of things to come, he was in trouble, because it felt like his cock was being separated from his ball sac, which was extremely uncomfortable. He better do as she suggested.

Inge could be physically intimidating. Even without her shoes, she towered over Clem. She laid down a few ground rules. He would call her Princess, as in "yes Princess" or "no Princess." She would refer to him as "loser" or "pathetic loser", depending on her mood, but it wasn't personal; it merely indicated his inferior status, but it could have been worse. The tall, sultry dominatrix could have had a field day making fun of his tiny cock, and though she took the high-road for now, she wouldn't hesitate to play the small penis card should he need to be taken down a notch. Clem must have passed the toe-sucking part of his training, because all of a sudden she said, "stand up, loser," and removed the lock. He was hoping for some penis fondling, or physical contact of some sort, but the thrill was denied him. Whether he knew it or not, he was about to be stretched across her knees, and Inge wanted the device off because she didn't like the feel of the plastic against her skin. "Okay, loser, take off the clamp."

He did, and he stood naked before her, totally naked, with not even the clamp for cover, and that seemed to have struck a chord, and mere seconds after being liberated, his penis resembled petrified wood. Surely Princess noticed, and towards that end he eyed her hungrily, but she didn't seem to care. "Okay loser," she said, "across my lap...let's go; don't make me wait."

Pain can be tolerable, and Clem rationalized his predicament thusly: he was but inches from the sweet-smelling pussy of a divine goddess. Everything about her stimulated him; her scent, her brute force - everything. His penis was unfettered and pressed against her thigh; all four-plus inches of it, because it was still erect, and warm too, from the heat of her leg. The Princess could no longer ignore it, so it felt like a victory to him. As long as he kept his hard-on she'd never break him, no matter how ferociously she smacked his ass. Her determination, her elegance, her forcefulness...Dickie fell further into her spell, with each smack reinforcing her dominance. Just being in the same zip code as Inge would be cause for celebration, but to be in her lap, with his penis squirming and straining against her luscious, silky-smooth legs...wait, this was punishment? Clem would take this scenario any time.

The day was nearing a close. His buttocks were so sore he probably wouldn't sit down for a day. His balls were tender and swollen and stung like hell. She had kicked them, clipped weights on them so that they'd droop, and when they did, she punched them until he collapsed. But he never lost sight of the positive, and kept thinking sexy thoughts as a way to cope with the ordeal, for in the back of his mind he knew that an orgasm was on the horizon. Inge had to admit that Clem held up well, and he even had her wondering whether she was losing her touch. Lesser men were often bawling and pleading for mercy. He had earned his reward, so finally, after a lengthy wait, she uttered the words he wanted to hear. Unfortunately, for Clem, it wasn't "Gentlemen, start your engines." Instead it was "red light-green light," meaning she could order him to stop masturbating at any time and interrupt his road to gratification. A man must be taught to pause, delay, or even deny their sensual pleasure, when ordered to by a superior woman.

"Okay loser, start jerking." Princess Inge sat back on the couch and re-crossed her legs. Had he been interested he could have used the sight of her crimson panties as a beat-off tool, for she had dropped her guard in regards to modesty, but Clem didn't require further motivation. His hand, her legs; his cock, her toes; his fantasy, her indifference...man, he was in jerkoff heaven! He looked her right in the eyes and grunted louder and louder as he neared fruition. Whacking for a woman's pleasure, on her orders, was far superior to doing it in private for your own pleasure. If this was meant as a referendum on his manhood, Clem would pass with flying colors. He was in control; he could determine when he came simply by altering the pressure on his two-fingered system. What a great sensation; he wouldn't mind extending it forever...

"Okay loser, red light."

...but all good things come to an end.

"Red light, loser. Red light. Stop jerking!"

Her attitude make him jerk harder. Fuck it, he thought; I'm screwed, so I might as well get the most out of it. He needed to cum right now; he didn't want to wait, but she was making it near impossible. Princess Inge stood up; she didn't like being disobeyed, and Clem got a hard smack across the face for his disobedience. It was a momentum killer, not to mention a boner killer, and before he knew it, his shrunken dick was back in clampdown. He had been so close to ejaculating and, just like that, it had been taken away, and now he couldn't cum. The long-awaited release, for which he endured a lot of suffering, was on hold.

****

The pilot episode of Boner Boys having been completed, Hideki told Jane to put together a ninety-second trailer so he could have something to show the 'money-men', as he put it. The final version of the episode was an hour and forty minutes in length, and even though the second scene, Connie's scene, ended up being the longer segment, they still had to deal with the fact that there was a lot of gay sex before Connie and her pink mini entered the fray. Jane wanted the trailer to truthfully capture the essence of the episode, but not alienate the hard-core heteros who might still be in denial over the fact that their interest in Donkey was an indication they were already halfway to donning the rainbow flag.

Olivia had taken a lot of pictures on the first day of filming, and not all included Connie. Some photos had just the four men - minus Koh, who was excised from the trailer - standing shoulder-to-shoulder. "Let's find the gayest one we can," Jane said, and what could be gayer than boners?

"Oh, this one ain't bad," observed Olivia, who had been scrolling through the images. "I think it's the best we got." Two in-your-face erections, courtesy of Dan and Jovi; one semi-bone (Akira) and one of undeterminable status, due to the paucity of visual evidence (Clem). The homoerotic aspect of aroused, naked men with their arms linked could not be overstated, and it left little doubt about the episode's content. Having selected the opening visual for the trailer, the title, Boner Boys was superimposed over the four nude men in the image. The video then began, making a quick pivot from homo to hetero, and showing what happens when fat thighs meet a short skirt was as hetero as they could get, so Connie's stroll from the reception area to the locker room came next. The frame froze and the words: featuring Lady Anabella Rutherford, appeared. They wanted an uppie, and when the video resumed, Connie was sitting on the bench removing her shoes. The only possible thing that could possibly be better than fat thighs meeting a short skirt was a short skirt meeting light-blue panties.

It was time to play the homo card, so they edited in the nude walk Dan took from the locker room to the swimming pool, and the viewer was assaulted by his pecker as it swung and fluttered in the breeze. For good measure they threw in his goofy expression, on the off-chance that someone might be interested in the Donkey stallion for reasons other than anatomical. After the nude walk, five excitable dicks manhandled the overmatched girl, and Connie's struggle to free herself offered a unique perspective on the thigh, miniskirt and panty combination they were trying to sell. There was then a quick pull-back to Dan and Koh jerking, followed by Koh's massive ejaculation, the one that landed on Dan. The boner parade continued. Jovi had his pecker an inch from Connie's face, looking like he was getting ready to blow, but his orgasm wasn't shown, because Koh's being so spectacular, they decided to make it a stand-alone event.

The trailer was then primed for another gay snippet, so the man with the goody expression stood motionless, with hands on hips, as four nude Japanese men ogled and admired his formidable, long, western dong up-close. A quick segue to Connie pegging Akira, Dickie getting the over-the-knee treatment, Dickie pulling on his pecker as he lay in her lap, and the trailer ended with a clip of Connie's removing her panties and showing off her bush. And after the video ended, another of Olivia's photographs filled the screen, the one where the men held Lady Anabella Rutherford aloft over their heads, and this is where the audience learned the players' names: Donkey Dan, JJ, Little Dickie, and Mister Muscles. Jane thought it was stupid, but what about Lady Anabella, Olivia countered? That wasn't any better. "Did you even run that past Connie," she asked?

"She won't care; she's only doing this for kicks. By the way, did you know her secret fantasy is to be gang-raped?"

Olivia smiled. "Isn't that every woman's fantasy, but I can see where this is going. What episode?"

"Don't know yet." Jane smacked her lips. "Depends on the ratings."

Trailer having been finished, Jane and Olivia wanted a viewing party; first the trailer to whet the appetite, and then the episode itself. The guest list was small and inclusive. Koh and Jovi would be there, because they were always at the house, along with Dickie, who except for his training was rarely out of Jane's sight. She hadn't offered him Herman's bedroom yet, but it was still being considered. Speaking of which, they had to invite Herman, because he'd have the task of blogging the episode on the website. "Be sure to write something nice about Connie," Jane told him. "Don't perv on her." As the star of the episode, Connie would most definitely have to be at the screening, and her presence would insure that Herman would be on his best behavior, in case the clamp didn't have its usual effect. Arlene was asked to join them, because as Jane's best friend, she just had to be there, plus her opinion was valued. She'd probably bring with her the houseboy/man-toy, the one with the wide-girthed pecker.

"Nine people," Olivia noted. "Five dicks and four women; I think we got it...Hey wait, what about Pete?"

"Fuck him," Jane replied. "I'm sick of his shit; besides, he'll demand a part in an episode."

"Yeah, but he brings chicks to the table, and we need new faces."

"You're right; invite the fucker."

****

Little Dickie woke-up horny. He really could have done with an orgasm last evening, but he caught a break today, for the ball-busting was postponed, due to his testicles still being swollen from yesterday's beat-down. That meant an extended cunt-licking session. Koh had loaned Clem his textbook on how to stimulate vaginas, explained in fully illustrated detail, but he couldn't be bothered to read it.

He wasn't yet ready to bathe or dress a woman, or learn how to comb hair or apply lipstick, or help them prepare for a hot date, so Inge greeted him already decked out in full battle regalia. Her makeup seemed to be perfect, as always, and the smell of her freshly-washed hair penetrated his senses. She had on a black top that stopped just short of her navel, and her black skirt was casual and loose fitting, although a few inches longer in length than what she had been wearing. It looked so comfortable that as soon as Dickie saw it he silently cursed, for it meant she'd most likely keep it on during the cunnilingus, which is why she probably chose it.

Inge sat down on the couch, lifting her skirt up as she did. The no-panties look was very appropriate, in a 'cut-out-the-middleman' sort of way. "Okay loser, let's see what you can do...wait, come here." Inge inserted the chain through the clamp's locking device and gave it a quick tug to make sure it was working properly, Clem's wince being her verification.

Princess Inge favored the clean-shaven look, which didn't surprise him. He couldn't imagine her with fur. He wanted to avoid focusing on her legs - her astonishing legs - so he dove right in and went straight to the clam. Yesterday he would have paid money to have his tongue inside her receptive, moist orifice, and today he found himself at the same location for free. The session went on for close to an hour. "You are really a pathetic loser," she informed him. "You'll never be able to satisfy a woman. Not with that dick. You're only hope is to lick pussy like a pro, so come-on, loser, put some effort into it."

It was turning into a marathon. If Clem paused too long, or lost concentration, he was rewarded with a sharp, acute sting in the most delicate of areas. He'd like to stick that chain right where his tongue was, but to everything there was a reason. The Princes was trying to teach Clem that pleasuring a woman was priority-one, even at the expense of his own gratification. Cunt-licking was an art as well as a responsibility, a chore not to be taken lightly, and wearing the clamp insured that he would be coerced into focusing on her satisfaction.

Nonetheless, so tired was Clem of the task that he was relieved when Princess decided to move on, even though moving-on meant he'd be getting fucked in the ass. He knew that as a cast member of Boner Boys he'd have things inserted into his rectum, and some of them would be penises, but he wanted to be a Boner Boy in the worst way, so all things considered, how could he complain about having a sexy Amazon with a dildo strapped around her waist doing the honors? He'd much prefer to have this done to him without the shackles of the clamp, but you can't always get what you want. If he took handled his end the right way, which was her way, masturbation would still be a possibility, so if Princess wanted to play the red light-green light game he'd go along with it, because he needed an orgasm in the worst way.

"Okay loser, let's see if you learned anything from yesterday. You can jerk now." Dickie stroked gently, not wanting to get too engrossed lest he forget to stop when she demanded it. He looked directly into her eyes. He wanted her to see his expression as he played with himself, to see how much he was trying to please her. His orgasm would be her triumph too, in a way. Once or twice he thought she was about to speak, and what else could it be but a red light, so he let up on his pulling in anticipation. But Princess said not a word. Interesting, he thought, maybe she'll let me finish. With each passing second Clem's hunch seemed more and more accurate, so gradually, but inexorably, he increased the pressure and quickened the pace. He was getting close; another few seconds and...

"Red light, loser."

Shit! Clem immediately released his hand and prayed. It was touch-and go, and he did whatever he could to avoid spilling right there and then. But there wasn't much more he could do, so it was in God's hands now. He clenched and unclenched his fists. He took deep breaths. But he persevered, and he did not ejaculate.

Inge rose and walked up behind him. She put her hand on his shoulder. "Green light, loser," she whispered into his ear. Invigorated, Clem jerked hard, he jerked fast; he wanted to cum before she ordered another red light. It wasn't long, ten seconds perhaps, when he began to feel the tingle. It started at his feet and quickly shot up to his groin. His legs got weak, but his cock remained strong. It was too late now, red light or not. Oh fuck, here it comes, baby. A two-day supply of love-juice had been percolating in his loins. "Ah, ah...Banzai!"

In rapid succession four voluminous, milky projectiles blasted out as if fired from a cannon, each one carrying with it a lot of spray, making the explosions seem even more impressive. There was no follow-up, no dribbling or oozing, no endless lava-flow, so in a matter of seconds it was over, but a lot got accomplished in that short time, and he smiled at her while panting in exhausted relief. That was a good cum; one of his best. By his reckoning, Inge should be down on her knees, worshipping his manhood, but instead she told him that he should have saved it for the camera. Then she told him to put the clamp back on while she retrieved the lock. Inge had a polished, hardwood floor, and the spilt semen was very visible. Dickie kind of expected that she'd make him clean up the mess, but he didn't think she'd make him do it with his tongue. She gave him a paper towel to spit it out on, but he preferred to swallow, and once he had done so he made an unexpected beeline for her toes. But Dickie being Dickie, he neglected to swallow all of his discharged fluid, and he made sure that Inge's toes received a dollop of semen too, mixed in with his saliva and spittle. Another small victory for Little Dickie...

****

There were two uninvited guests at the Boner Boys preview, but they were enthusiastically welcomed, and why wouldn't they be? Miniskirts were always welcome, and Jenn's and Inge's were particularly abbreviated.

"We were just having a girls' night out," explained Jenn, "when I remembered the viewing party, so here we are."

Princess Inge looked stunning in a tan and white, sleeveless top and blue denim skirt. Whatever Herman believed to be true about denim skirts was proven wrong, as she was able to sit down, cross her legs very nonchalantly, and still leave Herman in the dark over the color of her panties. She may or may not have been aware that a pervert was lurking and dialed-in to her crotch, but as he later rued, "Princess don't give nothing away," and by nothing, everyone knew what he was referring to. He had chosen to sit directly opposite Inge when he had other options, making clear his intentions. Another chick he's about to piss off, thought Jane. "Shouldn't you be working on Connie," she reminded him? "Why don't you see whether she needs a drink or something?" Jane shook her head in dismay, as she always did when he wasn't smart enough to think of the obvious. "You know, if you make yourself useful she might not mind you hanging around her." Herman hurried off to where a pair of pudgy thighs were encased in a little black dress and...wait, Holy Mother of Jesus, did he see something...yes! Motherfucker! Yes! Little black dress was wearing white panties! He got a look at her cleavage too, and saw the glimmer of a white bra. Better he should focus on Connie, he thought, and forget about Inge. The Princess was out of his league anyway, and besides, he already had a history with Connie. Not necessarily a glorious history, but a history nonetheless.