Ice Ice Studly - 3 Masturbation
Rodney opened the third e-mail.
"Good boy. Scroll down."
Rodney dutifully followed the directions. The ice cubes, the chip clips, and paperclip had brought him new sensations, feelings and pleasures.
The e-mail sender had opened up Rodney's idea of what sex could be, and what sensations were good. Different wasn't bad. It was just different.
"Stick two fingers in your mouth, and use your spit to get them nice and slick, boy."
He did, lathering the digits in his spittle, already guessing where they were headed, ready for what they promised. Dripping with saliva, he scrolled down.
"I know you can take two fingers, boy. Slide those fingers into your shit hole, boy. Slowly, all the way to the webs of your fingers."
Rodney preferred his fingers to dildos because his fingers could explore his ass more than a dildo; a dildo could reach farther inside, but Rodney's prostate didn't require a dildo to reach it.
Rodney's fingers could easily be argued to be larger than most men's. The man diligently exercised, lifting weights, pushing his body to its limits, growing his muscles all across his structure, including his fingers.
The digits pressed against the muscled flesh of his shit hole, his yearning ass, wanting, lusting for an intrusion.
He employed a similar trick at the gym to lure straight men into trying out his ass. Late at night, during the gym's last hour, few men used the gym. Rodney would go into the showers about 30 minutes before closing and start loosening his hole. A trusted member, Rodney would have a key to lock up, something he did a couple of times a week.
Rodney would carefully pick his prey, sometimes married, sometimes single, but always straight. He'd wait until it was just him and his target, then the target would walk into the shower, and observe Rodney working his man hole. In a year, only three men had left. The others had watched, some shocked, most awed.
Rodney would talk to the man, asking what the tightest thing they'd used on their cocks. A few had tried anal sex with their wives or girlfriends, but most had not. Those that had needed little encouragement to mount the muscled pussy provided them. The others would take some coaxing.
Those thoughts flooded Rodney's mind as his finger tips bottomed out on his prostate.
He scrolled down.
"Now, pull those fingers right out to the tip, very slowly. Hold a second, and then push in just as slow, all the way. Then out and in again, very slowly starting a fucking rhythm."
This was the way Rodney would finger fuck himself most Saturday mornings. He'd skipped that regimen this morning, knowing what he'd be doing in the afternoon.
Ravenall's e-mails had Rodney's 9-inch shaft iron-hard.
It throbbed as the fingers pulsed in and out of his ass. Rodney instinctively knew not to cum, that the finger fucking was merely another prelude to the ultimate climax.
For five minutes he rubbed his rim, starting slow and stopping when his fingerings were thrusting as piston speeds.
Covered in sweat from the exercise, he left the fingers in the warmth of his hole.
"Pull your fingers out. Look at them. Do you eat ass, boy?"
He did.
"Ever taste your own ass?"
He had not.
"Look at your fingers. Those are your ass. It's your own ass, boy."
Rodney knew the intent of the words. He would not be harmed.
His ass was evident on the two fingers, even if only slightly."
"Bring the fingers to your nose and take a deep breath through your nose, boy."
Rodney need, inhaling his ass for the first time.
"Earthy. Sod. Garden. Fertilizer. Renewal."
Rodney's brain was rewiring itself as he inhaled. He took three more sniffs before scrolling down and reading more.
"Like that, boy?"
He did.
"Wipe your fingers above your upper lip so you can smell your ass the rest of the day."
Rodney did, and then scrolled down.
"Taste your ass, boy."
Rodney knew this command was coming. It had to be. Where else was that dialogue going to go?
Rodney paused. Ravenall had assured him nothing would harm him, and Rodney knew this was true, again. His body could produce nothing that would do him harm.
Slurp! Rodney plunged the fingers into his mouth, and then sucked them clean as he pulled them out. The taste was shocking. Revolting. But it was him. He was eating his own ass, tasting his own body.
The mind twisted and realized the symmetry of this maneuver, its creation of revelation.
Rodney felt pain.
His cock was so stiff, tears escaped his eyes, rivulets of salt wetting both sides of his face as he lay on his back, looking up into the ceiling as he continued to slurp his ass off his fingers.
Perfectly clean, he scrolled down.
"Get those fingers clean, boy."
He'd anticipated the next command, and scrolled down.
"Relax a bit, then next e-mail, boy."
To be continued
Men and boys, thanks for your comments. If you send something, remember to put something in the subject line, or I'll think it is spam and delete it.
Master Terra D masterterradil@yahoo.com