Little Jimmy Grows Up

...

Chapter Eight: Prophet.

I wasn't back at Tom's house at 11 the next morning. It was more like 10:45, and I walked slowly around the cul de sac while checking my watch every ten seconds until it was a couple of minutes to 11.

Tom was a prophet. He knew me better than I knew myself, and now here I was doing precisely what Tom had told me to do, which was walking up to the door of Tom's house and ringing the doorbell.

"Hello," I said nervously to the middle-aged woman who came to the door. "I'm Jimmy Ellis, and uh... I'm going to go back to Tom's place and work out with him. Okay?"

The lady, who had a faint resemblance to the Brady Bunch mom, looked me up and down with a quizzical expression but then simply nodded and motioned for me to go back to the garage.

I climbed the stairs, feeling like a trained pet. At least I was walking, I thought glumly. Tom could have made me crawl.

I had jerked off several times after getting home, just as Tom had said I would, even humping my pillow when I woke up in the middle of the night with a boner, and while I did I thought of everything he had made me do as well as things he would make me do. Earlier in the evening I had taken a cucumber out of the refrigerator and practiced sucking on it. I even dug out a woolen blanket from the closet and rubbed myself into it, imagining it was Tom's hairy body against mine.

And now here I was knocking on the door and Tom was opening it, checking his watch and nodding.

"You're a minute late. Strip down," he said as he walked away from me.

Tom was wearing only a jock strap, and a shiver went down my spine as I saw his pale white buttocks with the elastic straps framing and cutting into them. Even his ass was muscular, I noted as I watched him walking.

"Don't lock it," Tom said curtly when he saw me move toward the knob of the latch.

I shed my clothes as I followed Tom over to the weight bench, surprised that I was not embarrassed by the fact that by the time I was down to my underwear I already had a boner.

"Get those underwear of yours off too. Spot me," Tom said as he got into position under the weights.

I pulled my fruit of the looms down as he had instructed me and stood by the bench and looked down at Tom. Effortlessly, he lifted the bar up from the brackets and began pressing what had to be more than I weighed with little effort. The thought that I was spotting him was ludicrous, because there was no way that I was going to be able to budge that even if I had to.

Instead I merely stood above his head and watched him lift. His muscles began to swell up like he was Popeye or something, with his biceps turning into from merely large into chisled steel before my eyes. Sweat began to form on his body, making the bare smooth skin glisten and the hairy bits bead up.

I saw a drop of cum splat down on the black vinyl of the bench right next to Tom's head. It had dripped out of my dick, and I casually wiped my pecker with the back of my hand before dabbing up the mess before Tom could see it.

After Tom lifted for a while, he set the weights on the rack and got up on his feet, stretching and turning his torso as I watched.

"Come here," Tom said, and when I went over to him he told me to take his jock off for him.

I pulled off the damp elastic support, watching his cramped cock slowly elongate as it got free of its binding. After Tom stepped out of the straps, I folded the soggy jock and set it down.

"Such a neat little man you are," Tom snickered, motioning to the towel that was sitting on a chair. "You can dry me off now."

I got the towel and began rubbing Tom's back, using slow circular motions on the rippling muscles that were still bulging from his workout. Even Tom's back was hairy, lightly coated with a flaming red pelt that went from his shoulders down to the base of his spine.

His ass was smooth, his firm buttocks a pale pink in color, and then the hair began again on his upper thighs, getting thicker and denser down to his ankles. After finishing the assignment of drying Tom's back, I moved around to the front, toweling off his legs while at eye level with his flaccid cock.

"You want that cock of mine real bad," Tom said, noting my staring. "You'll get it - later. All you want and more."

Using the towel on his privates, I pulled on his cock to dry it, and then dried his scrotum as he spread those tree-trunk like thighs to accomodate me. Leaving his cock reluctantly, my toweling continued on his chest, and when he lifted his arms, I scrubbed the now completely damp towel through his armpit hair.

"Mmmm," Tom purred, linking his hands behind his head while looking at me doing his bidding with what must have appeared to be nothing short of total devotion. "Got a thing for my armpits, don't you?"

I shrugged, suddenly realizing that he must be right. What was it about those thickly furred hollows that interested me so? The musky aroma that filled my nostrils as I toweled Tom sent chills down my spine. How many times had a pleasured myself while looking at his yearbook photo, staring at the very same sculpted arms and shoulders that I was now touching? How many quarts of semen had I spat out while gazing at the pictures of those thick forests of hair under these massive arms of his?

"Do what you did yesterday," Tom said. "You know you want to."

Wordlessly, I leaned forward, my parched tongue moving through the dense thicket of burnt orange fur. After a few tentative licks, I found myself lapping at Tom's armpit like an animal, leaning on Tom for support.

My dick was resting on his upper thigh, and it wasn't until I heard Tom chuckle that I realized that I was humping his thigh, my dick pointing upward and flattened against Tom's coarse leg hair.

Tom was chuckling at me, but I didn't care. I was so aroused that I didn't care how stupid or crazed I might have seemed to be. With my arms wrapped around his furry and chisled torso, I came hard, spurting my load all over Tom's thigh and hip as I kept my face buried under his arm.

"Looks like you've got another mess to clean up," Tom said when my body finally stopped convulsing, putting his hand on my shoulder and moving me onto my knees. "Hope you like the taste of your own spunk. Damn, when you cum you really cum."

My semen was hanging all over Tom's hip and thigh, and as I licked my seed off of him, my eyes were fixed on his cock as it hung limply just inches away from my tongue.

Tom was going to want me to suck it just like he had sucked mine yesterday, and I really wanted to. Practicing on that cucumber might have been stupid, but now I was glad that I did. Looking at the conical head of his cock, which seemed as big as a lemon to me, I figured that I could fit that in my mouth, but how much further down could my lips go? Tom had taken my whole dick in his mouth, but there was no way I would be able to do anything like that to him.

"You want to suck on it, don't you Jimmy?" Tom asked, almost like he was reading my mind.

I nodded, reaching over and lifting the rubbery tube. I kissed the tip of the crown, and was about to put the crown into my mouth when Tom pulled my head away.

"Later," Tom said. "Lunch is coming. Go answer the door."

....

Chapter Nine: Lunch.

In a panic, I ran over to grab my clothes as I heard footsteps coming up the stairs, but was stopped by Tom.

"No," Tom snapped. "Go answer the door just as you are."

"What?" I said, looking at him like he was insane.

"You heard me," Tom growled, grabbing me by the bicep in a grip that made me cry out. "And don't you EVER question anything I tell you to do again. NEVER! Understood? You don't want to make me mad, and if you ever make me look bad in front anybody, you'll pay. Now go open the door."

I had made a couple of steps on very shaky legs when I heard the knock at the door, and I looked back at Tom for some kind of reprieve from this, but all he gave me was a steely glare in return, I also noticed that he wasn't putting any clothes on either.

I opened the door a crack and saw the Florence Henderson look-alike holding a tray, a placid excpression on her face.

"I have lunch for you boys," she said as she eased the door open and walked into the room.

I cowered in the corner as this incredibly surreal scene unfolded in front of me. There was this forty-something woman, looking very dignified and everything, walking into a sweltering attic while two sweating naked guys stood there, one covering himself up and trying to hide and the other brazenly standing their with his enormous manhood hanging there for all to see.

"Thanks Mom," Tom said walking over to his mother as she set the tray of fruits and juices on the table, and giving her a kiss on the cheek.

She smiled grimly, not even a bit rattled by all of this, and calmly turned around and walked back toward the still open door, where I was trying to hide behind it.

"You met Jimmy, right Mom?" Tom asked, and she smiled and nodded at me. "I'm going to make a real man out of Jimmy before the summer's over, right Jimbo?"

"Uh, yeah," I mumbled, hands cupped over my crotch.

"Show my Mom your physique," Tom said. "That way she'll see how much we've accomplished over the summer. Get out from behind the door and strike a pose like Charles Atlas for my Mom."

I winced as I looked to Tom, but his eyes were blazing as he smiled.

"Jimmy?" Tom said with an edge to his voice, so with a pained expression I moved from behind the door and brought my arms up, striking what must have been the most pathetic muscleman pose in human history.

Tom's mother had a hard time keeping that smile on her face as I flexed my arms, because her eyes had gone down right where you would expect they would. If she wasn't impressed by the bony upper physique of the 5'7" 120 pound nerd doing his best Charles Atlas pose, the look on her face when she saw my tiny pecker was as horror-stricken as my own.

"Well, good luck," she said, keeping her eyes focused on my sad little dick as she moved toward the doorway, but then stopping at the top of the landing just outside the entrance. "Tom, may I have a word with you please?"

Tom ducked out of the room briefly before poking his head back in at me.

"Jimmy, do you have a driver's license?"

"Uh, yeah, but I don't have a car," I replied.

"Go get it."

I went over to my crumpled pants and fished out my wallet, walking back with my license in one hand and my dick hiding behind the other.

A brief conversation appeared, after which I heard his mother go back down the stairs as Tom came back in and closed the door behind himself.

"What was that all about?" I asked as Tom threw my license back at me.

"She thought I was corrupting a kid," Tom snapped in annoyance. "When she saw that you were not only 18 but were a month older than me she couldn't believe it. She said she thought you were about 12. Probably hasn't seen a tiny dick like yours since my old man left her."

"No," I said, letting his stinging comment slide. "I mean what was all of that? Us standing around here naked?"

"What's wrong with that?" Tom asked. "She's seen naked guys before. Probably wishes she could see more of them."

"But you're her son," I sputtered.

"So? Your mother's never seen you naked?"

"Not since I was a baby," I said defiantly.

"How come? Because you're ashamed about how little your dick is?"

"No, I wouldn't even care if mine was as big as yours is. I wouldn't be walking around waving it at her because I know she wouldn't want to see it."

"So what are you saying?" Tom asked, getting into my face. "Are you saying my mother is weird?"

"No, I said backing away. "I didn't mean that."

"Well, it sure sounds like it," Tom said. "And you're pissing me off."

...

Chapter Ten: Pissing Tom off.

I had taken a couple of steps back, but wasn't prepared for what happened next, not that it would have mattered. In the span of about 30 seconds, I had been sent flying onto the vinyl mat in the corner of the room, and as I gasped for air Tom already had my arms yanked behind me and was threating to snap them like pretzels.

"Fucking pussy," Tom said as he sat on my backside and kept my arms pulled up behind me.

Even feeling his cock and balls against my skin couldn't take my mind off of the pain in my shoulders, but the more I whimpered in agony the more Tom applied the pressure.

"Remember. Don't cry," Tom said sharply. "I don't care what else you do, just don't cry. Whine like a pussy. Beg for mercy all you want."

"You're hurting my shoulders."

"Well then, I guess we should stretch them out a little."

I was yanked roughly to my feet, offering little resistance as Tom did what he wanted to me, and what he wanted was what I had feared so much yesterday.

...

Chapter Eleven: Bound and gagged.

"Comfy?" Tom asked, seeming to enjoy my discomfort as I stood helpless with my wrists secured in the leather bracelts that were attached to the beam.

"No," I said, trying not to have the step stool I was standing on roll away from under my feet as I looked out the window. "Your mother!"

"Ah yes, my mother," Tom said. "Anything more to say about her?"

"She can see me," I complained, looking out at the woman who was sitting on the patio deck facing us.

"She already saw you. Now you think she's trying to see more of you? You think she wants you?"

"Wants me?" I asked. "No, I didn't say that. She doesn't want me any more than I want her."

"Oh, so you don't think she's good looking?" Tom asked, and when I looked in his hand I saw he had a leather strap in his hand. A pliant black strap about a foot long that Tom was running his hand over.

"No," I protested. "She's pretty, it's just that..."

The strap stung as Tom slapped me across the back with it, and I cried out in pain, although it truth it sounded much worse than it felt. The cracking sound echoed in my ears and sent a shiver down my spine as Tom continued to berate me.

"So my Mom's pretty. You want to fuck her?"

"What? No!"

Tom swung the strap harder this time, causing me to yelp from the sting.

"She's not good enough for you to fuck?" Tom sneered.

"Yes. I mean - you're twisting everything I say."

"You want to screw my Mom?" he asked, the strap smacking me on the ass this time.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to say," I protested.

"The truth will set you free," Tom advised, smacking me with the strap across my shoulder blades.

My back stung, my wrists and hands were numb and my shoulders were really hurting. Sweat was pouring down my face, making my eyes burn, and when Tom came around to the front of me, his eyes blazed again.

"You aren't crying, are you?" he said as he looked hard at my face.

"No, it's sweat," I said while shaking my head rapidly.

"You're having fun, aren't you Jimmy?"

"No, please let me down," I said. "I'll do anything you want, but please let me down."

"Correction," Tom said. "You'll do anything I want, period. I don't think you want to get down yet though. You're liking it too much."

"I don't like it," I said. "It hurts."

"I don't believe you, Jimmy. I think you like this a lot. I think you like the feel of the belt on your back, I think you like the sound of the strap hitting you, and I think you love being tied up like this. Want to know how I know that?"

Tom didn't wait for an answer, and instead reached over and flicked my penis with his finger. A penis that was pointing straight ahead at the window.

"Your mouth says no but your dick says yes," Tom laughed. "You're as hard as a rock, Jimmy."

Tom's finger poked at my dick, making it bounce up and down wildly, before looking down at the step stool I was precariously perched on.

"Maybe you'll like this better," Tom suggested, giving the stool a swift kick that sent it flying away from me. As the stool went away, my body dropped down as I hung by my wrists with my feet kicking in the air.

I cried out as I tried but failed to have my feet touch the floor to relieve the pressure on my numb wrists. Tom might have thought that I was tall enough so that my feet would be on the ground, as I noticed a startled look on his face for a second when he saw my prediciment.

Tom brought a couple of milk crates over and placed them in front of me, even helping to put them under my feet before spreading them out wide. Now my wrists were spared but the insides of my thighs were straining as I tried to keep my feet on the crates.

"That's perfect," Tom decided.

"Can you put them closer together please?" I whined, limbs straining from being stretched into this X position..

"I could," Tom said slowly. "But I won't. I like you just as you are now. Your balls look so nice hanging down like that."

When I saw Tom's hand reach down between my legs, for a second I thought he was going to do something painful to me, and maybe he thought that the rough treatment he proceeded to give my sac was punishment, but it wasn't to me.

"Ohhh!" I moaned as Tom's hands squeezed and kneaded my balls roughly in his fist.

"Jimmy likes his balls played with, I see," Tom chuckled, handling my sac with even more enthusiasm upon seeing my reaction.

As my nuts churned in Tom's grip, the pressure of the back of his thumb on the area between the base of my dick and the top of my scrotum grew more firm, and I gasped when I realized what was about to occur.

"Damn!" Tom yelped when he saw what was happening, and even though my vision was a bit clouded from the sweat and the intensity of my orgasm, I had no problem seeing the ropes of cum that blasted out of my madly jerking dick, squirting a few feet out in front of us and landing just shy of the window.

My entire body quivered as my orgasm just kept going and going, with Tom laughing as he kept squeezing my nuts until my dick went limp.

"That's the biggest load of cum I've ever seen come out of somebody", Tom noted as he undid the braclets and helped me down to my feet. "And I've seen plenty. Clean up your mess."

Tom let me use the sweaty towel to wipe up my spunk, and after I finished he came over to where I was kneeling in front of the window, trying to stay out of his mother's sight.

"You know what I want. We want, I mean," Tom added, and when I looked over at him, with his hands on his hips and his cock dangling inches from my face, there was no mistaking what he meant.

"My mouth," I said, buying me a couple of seconds to. "Dry."

"Here," Tom said as he handed me a bottle of baby oil. "Don't swallow it, just take a mouthful. and rinse."

When I hesitated, Tom reached for the bottle, threatening to stick it down my throat for me before I reluctantly squirted some into my mouth. I tried not to choke as I worked it around my parched mouth.

"Now spit it out into your hands, work it in and get busy," Tom said, and after I did that, he grabbed me by the back of the head and drew me closer to him.

My lubricated hands seized his cock, with my right clutching the trunk of the massive organ and my left a couple inches further up. After taking a deep breath I let my lips slid over the glans while my slick hands slid up and down the shaft of his member.

"Watch the teeth," Tom cautioned me as I accidently grazed him, and I opened my mouth as wide as I could to avoid hurting him. "That's it. Suck that cock hard."

My mouth was sliding up and down the head of his tool under Tom's vocal and physical urging, and as I felt him get harder, it got easier to suck on it. The cucumber practice was paying off, and as I got more adept, Tom let go of my head.

"You're a quick learner," Tom said. "Grab the shaft harder and spin your hands."

I squeezed his cock as hard as my slippery grip allowed, and Tom began rocking his hips in a deliberate rhythm so that he was in effect fucking my face. His cock was going a little deeper with every thrust, and I got see that I was soon able to take almost half of him into my mouth before gagging a little when the tip hit the top of my throat.