Milked - Part Two

“What could I do? I was still tied down. I had a girl literally on top of me. My face was about two inches away from her pussy, which I might add was gaping open, the petals glistening wet, while another crazy bitch was swinging the sexual equivalent of a baseball bat at a target only six inches higher than my nose.”

“That’s a vivid image,” Rogers admitted. “You still haven’t said what you did.”

I grinned. “I licked her.” 

“You licked her?”

I nodded. “Hell yes. I licked her. Jessica was swinging the paddle, maybe once every twenty or thirty seconds and I just lifted my head and dug in. I jammed my tongue into Chrissy’s slit and began licking up and down.”

Rogers considered that. “Did she like it?”

I laughed “Hell yes. She moved. She arched her back, stuck her butt even higher in the air, and then brought her pussy down on my mouth. I found her clit, suckled it, nibbled on it, licked it until it was swollen, and even bit it. Lightly of course.”

“Of course. She liked that?”

“Damn right. She came.”

Rogers’ eyebrow went up. “She did?”

I gave him an affronted look. “There’s no need to get insulting,” I retorted. “I may be only eighteen but I know how to lick pussy.”

Rogers shook his head. “No. That’s not what I mean. So far in your tale, neither of the girls have climaxed. Not once. This is very different. Go on. What happened next after she came?

“Nothing. She kept licking me. I was already hard by that point, the taste of her, the softness of her, not to mention her mouth on my cock and her fingers caressing my balls all had their effect. But what really turned me on was the crack of that wooden paddle against her ass. Every thirty bloody seconds. For twenty minutes.”

“Damn.”

“No kidding. I didn’t know black girls could get their asses reddened but damned if she was sitting comfortably after that! I had her juices all over my face and when I was close she finally rose up, turned around, and settled down on my cock. And that’s when Jessica began hitting Chrissy’s tits with her hand. They weren’t hard blows, but they must have stung. I could tell from Chrissy’s expression. Jessica just stood there, batting those massive boobs back and forth and Chrissy rode me, bouncing vigorously until I finally popped again.”

“Orgasm number eight.”

“Wow. You’re counting?” I asked.

Rogers shrugged. “Got to take notes.”

“Uh. Okay,” I said. “So I saw the damage to Chrissy’s ass. It was real. There were blemishes, and you can imagine how hard you have spank a black girl’s ass in order to get visible welts and bruising.”

“Actually,” Rogers said. “It isn’t that hard. Blacks show bruises just as easily as whites.”

I crossed my arms. “Have you spanked a lot of black girl bottom, Corporal Rogers?”

The frosty glare I got from across the table was answer enough. I shook my head. “After Chrissy limped away Jessica got out a pair of handcuffs.”

At that Rogers’ irritation seemed to fade. “Real or play?”

I rubbed at my wrists. “Oh they were real enough. Jessica released my left wrist from the bondage gear and snapped the cuff on, then straddled my chest. She spent some time rubbing her pussy on my sternum by the way, leaving a wet smear, only to free my right wrist and cuff my hands together. Then, before she even freed my ankles, she tied a string around my balls. And pulled it tight. Like a leash.”

Rogers couldn’t help it. He laughed. “Damn. Bet that was uncomfortable.”

I nodded. “Yes, but only a little. I got the message. It was a single, unspoken word: Cooperate. The ‘or else’ part was fairly simple to understand. If I refused to obey an order the string would be yanked hard enough to put me on the floor.” I took a deep breath. “Then she freed my ankles, led me to the bathroom, and allowed me to use the toilet.”

“Did she leave you alone, unobserved?” Rogers asked.

I shook my head. “No. No privacy. She sat there and watched me take a shit.”

“Crass.”

I shrugged. “It’s nature. It’s also exceedingly difficult to wipe one’s own ass when handcuffed, even if it is in front.”

“She wiped your butt for you. And you didn’t object?”

I shifted uncomfortably. “Of course I objected. I’m not stupid. And in my own way I’m proud. She ignored my protestations. And what really sucks is that I’d have still stayed at that point. I would have willingly climbed right back into that bed and even let them tie me back up. I was living the dream, you know?”

Corporal Rogers just stared. 

“So I decided not to rock the boat, right? I mean, hey… if a hot girl wants to wipe my ass and if that’s what it takes to get her to mount me again…” My voice trailed off. I realized I was just digging that hole deeper. So I cleared my throat.

“Anyway, I got cleaned up and it also gave me the opportunity to check my junk, if you take my meaning. My dick was definitely tender and there were red spots forming along the tip. Abrasions. Jessica noticed too, pushed me against the wall, and proceeded to gently put some sort of aloe vera lotion on my cock.”

Rogers looked at me. “Did she dab it on, or stroke it on?”

I winced at the memory. “Are you kidding me? She stroked it on, clearly trying to harden me again. It didn’t work.”

“I can imagine,” Rogers chuckled. “Not after eight orgasms and six hours of sex.”

“Jessica then led me out of the bathroom, back through the bedroom, and into the dining room. There was pizza on the table.”

Rogers stiffened, sitting straighter in the chair. “Take out?”

I shook my head. “Tombstone. Frozen pizza. Supreme.”

“Damn.”

“Pizza gets you excited?” I asked curiously.

Rogers shook his head. “Pizza is the criminal world’s worst enemy. They love it because it’s fast and easy and readily available. And they deliver. Trust me, cops everywhere love it when crooks buy pizza. I have a time frame, and if you could tell me what brand, and what was on the pizza I could have your girlfriends’ apartment address in about an hour.”

“Unless it’s frozen.”

“Unless it’s frozen,” Rogers agreed.

I shrugged. “I sat down and Jessica tied the string around my balls to the table. Then she went and got the black leather ankle cuffs I’d been wearing while tied to the bed. Chrissy stayed right there and watched me. Then Jessica returned, reattached the bondage stuff to my ankles and secured them to the chair I was sitting in.”

“Elaborate,” Rogers observed. “Did they speak to you at all?”

I blinked. “Hell yeah. They were chatterboxes! Most of it was compliments about my manhood. Then there were some comments about what they were still going to do to me, and then they fished for compliments. They wanted to know about my sexual interests, what turned me on and all that.”

“Were they dressed?” Rogers asked.

I shook my head. “Nope. None of us were. All three of us sat there naked, except I was wearing cuffs.”

“Just casually eating dinner.”

“Ha. There was nothing casual about it!” I declared. “First of all Jessica wouldn’t leave me alone. She was constantly touching my dick. Teasing me. Chrissy actually brought out a dildo as thick as my wrist, made sure I could see it, and then just sat down on it like having something the size of a baseball bat shoved up her cunt was a normal occurrence.” 

“Dinner and a show,” Rogers said.

“Of a sort. I ate, sure. I was hungry. And there was soda.”

“No alcohol?”

I shook my head. “Not even a whiff, and I would have appreciated a beer. They certainly weren’t intoxicated. They knew exactly what they were doing.”

“Okay, so no contributing to a minor.” He let out a sigh of frustration. “We are, technically, still completely crime free.” The cop leaned back and crossed his arms. “Did anything illegal actually happen on this little adventure of yours?”

My eyes narrowed dangerously and we stared at each other for a moment. Finally Rogers shook his head. “So did you cum again at dinner?”

“No. Meals were the easiest to endure.”

Rogers snorted. “Sure. You had to sleep though, right?

I grunted. “If you could call it that. They took turns. Every three or four hours they switched off and diddled me. Didn’t sleep any longer than three or four hours at a stretch.”

“Damn. Really?” Rogers said.

I nodded. “But wait. I’m getting ahead of myself. Know what they did to me after dinner?”

“Tied you back down on the bed and fucked you stupid again?”

I paused, then gave him a frown. 

“What? Am I wrong?”

“No.” I muttered.

“Was there anything different about the after-dinner sex compared to the before-dinner antics?” Rogers asked.

I gave him a blank stare. “You mean other than the fact I was tied down spread-eagled with two nymphomaniacs bouncing on top of me?”

The cop grinned.

“Just in the way they tried to entice me into hardness. After dinner they avoided rubbing type motions and instead brought out this huge vacuum tube which they put over my cock. Sucked me right into hardness and made me about twice as big as normal.”

“I’m sure they enjoyed that,” Rogers said.

I shrugged. “Not they. Jessica. Chrissy disappeared, or at least didn’t come back into the bedroom while Jessica was doing me. There was also a lot of playing with my scrotum. Jessica liked licking me there.”

“Disturbing.”

“Not when it’s being done to you, trust me. I wasn’t exactly recovered by that point, but you have to understand that this girl was a professional, an expert. She knew exactly how to get me stiff again and the moment she did, she took the vacuum tube thing off my cock, grabbed hold and then literally sucked me into orgasm.”

“Orally?”

“Well that’s what sucked means,” I drawled.

Rogers shook his head. “No. The MO. Modus Operandi. All the other orgasms they took from you they actually rode you, isn’t that right?”

I blinked. “Well, to be honest, I hadn’t thought about it, but I guess you’re correct.”

“So they managed a tenth orgasm from you in what, seven hours? Eight?”

I shrugged. “No clue. I wasn’t keeping a timer going.”

“And she used her mouth,” Rogers mused.

I laughed. “Ha. She used her mouth and then licked up and swallowed what little cream I’d spurted as if it were candy.”

Rogers nodded. “Did you fall asleep then or did Chrissy come back in?”

I looked down at my empty Coke can. “Chrissy came back in. Jessica left.”

“More oral?”

I shook my head. “No, Chrissy put some oil on my cock and then read to me.”

“She read to you? Poetry?”

“Porn stories. Really dark ones. Nasty things that only real perverts think about.”

“Like what?” Rogers asked, obviously curious.

I sighed. “Oh, stories about girls getting tortured, or used in unusual ways. Lots of humiliation and other sexual antics that were just a bit over the top. And bad things too. Non-consensual sex, rapes, even snuff scenes. She sat there between my legs, half laying on my thigh, one hand rubbing my shaft lightly while she read to me. She wanted my opinion.”

“What was your opinion?” Rogers asked. 

“Well it was a little hard to hide from her. Obviously. If I liked something I got marginally harder”

“And what did you like the most?” Rogers asked.

I looked up at the ceiling. “I’d prefer not to answer that question.”

“Where was she getting the stories?” 

I shrugged. “Internet? It’s not like there isn’t that stuff posted all over the damn place. Hell, just Google ‘snuff’ and you’ll probably get two or three hundred sites that post that kind of crap.”

“So did you cum for her?”

I nodded.

“How did she take it?” 

“Orally. Just like Jessica. Sucked on me like a straw.”

“And then? Chrissy again?”

“No. Then they let me fall asleep,” I replied. “At least for a while.”

“When I woke it was dark. One of my hands had been freed from the corner of the bed, as had one of my legs. This enabled me to twist in my sleep. There was pressure, warm and soft, on both sides of me and I figured out pretty darn quickly that both girls were holding me. Uncomfortably, I might add. One of them was actually holding my cock. Asleep. My movements must have roused them because a moment later Chrissy got up and left and Jessica sleepily moved down and began sucking on me again.

“It’s hard to deal with that sort of non-stop stimulation. The body is trying to recover and really can’t cope. Worse, I had a hand free so I was finally able to do some touching. Jessica twisted around and in about half a second I found her slit. It was soaked. Like so wet that it squelched noisily when I slid a few fingers in. She was still sleepy though and her tongue was only doing the bare minimum. I on the other hand began pumping, thrusting my hand through her cleft fast.

“She exploded with a sharp little squeal and trembled against me. But then she let out a little laugh, pulled her rump away from my questing hand, and turned around. I softened immediately, and not even with disappointment. I was too sleepy. Jessica grabbed my hand, sucked my fingers clean and then curled up next to me again. I fell asleep much more comfortably. But that wasn’t going to last.

“Around five or six I was woken again, this time by Chrissy. She had spread my legs and I found to my consternation that my foot was again drawn to the corner of the bed, the leather anklet tight against my flesh. But that wasn’t what really got to me. What did it was the fact that she was rubbing me with some sort of warming lotion. It tingled at first, then got really hot. It also made me rock hard again and I began straining. Then I tried to reach the other cuff on my wrist, which woke Jessica, and the next thing I knew was that I had white breast meat shoved into my mouth as she threw herself across me and held down my other wrist. I’m a pretty strong guy, but she had her entire body weight on me. It didn’t take her long to get my right hand secured again.

Of course by this time my cock felt like I’d dipped it in hot water, and it didn’t help that Chrissy was using her hand to make long, slow strokes, making sure to work whatever God awful shit was in that bottle into the very ridges of my penis. I had to grit my teeth to keep from screaming.”

“That’s a good point,” interrupted Rogers. “Why didn’t you scream?”

“Excuse me?” I stammered.

“Scream. I mean you were being held against your will right? Tied down? You’re in an apartment complex, where the walls are always notoriously thin. Why didn’t you scream for help?”

“Well… uh… I…”

Rogers sighed. “Because at that point you still weren’t actually being held against your will, were you?”

I looked down. “Can I get another Coke please?”

Rogers looked angry. “I’m sort of getting to the point where I don’t believe a crime has been committed. As entertaining as this tale has been, I can’t help thinking you’re wasting my time. Presuming anything you’ve told me is true, all I can see now is that you were a willing participant. They tied you down for sexual purposes, not for reasons of imprisonment.”

“You’re not getting the full picture,” I stammered.

“On the contrary, I’ve rarely had a more vivid description of events. You’ve been quite lurid,” Rogers retorted.

I put my hands down on the table. “Look. You don’t know what I’ve been through! They didn’t leave me on the bed on Saturday. They moved me.”

Rogers crossed his arms. “Moved you. To a different location.”

I hesitated. “Well, no. To the living room. They had this… exercise bench there.”

“A bench.”

“We ate breakfast first and I was handcuffed the whole time. They weren’t taking chances with me. My cock was still burning with the heat and hard as a rock. I’d been allowed to use the restroom, but since my hands were now locked behind my back instead of the front, Chrissy had literally held my shaft while I’d taken care of business. Then we ate. Or more accurately, Chrissy climbed up onto my lap, facing me, her boobs against my chest, and slid herself down over my shaft. She literally fucked me while spoon feeding me yogurt and granola.”

“Sounds delicious,” replied Rogers. “I wish I’d had that for breakfast instead of donuts.”

I gave him a suspicious look but ignored the comment. “Afterward they took me over to this bench. It was table height, had rings at the corners to tie a person’s hands and feet, and most disturbingly, was missing the padding in the worst possible place.”

“Oh do tell,” Rogers said in a patronizing voice.

“Under my groin,” I declared. “So they made me lie down and got my feet secured, then did my hands, one at a time. I had no chance. And my man parts dangled down under the table.”

“How disconcerting,” Rogers said sarcastically. “I’m sure you were saying things like ‘stop’ or ‘don’t’ or ‘please let me go’.”

I licked my lips. “Then Jessica came up, put one of the kitchen chairs right at my hip, reached under the table and began touching me. Her hands were slick and she just did these non-stop strokes, pulling downward…”

Rogers sighed. “Yeah. Milking. I get that. Horrible torture. And what was Chrissy doing while you were getting your cock stroked?”

I blinked. “Well actually I’m not sure. At least for the first twenty minutes. I was a little focused, you know? And it wasn’t like I could get up and check on her. I was tied to that massage table thingy. Bench. Whatever. And Jessica just sat there and worked my cock downward, over and over.”

Rogers gave me a blank stare.

I shrugged. “I guess it was ten or fifteen minutes. Then Chrissy came over to the bench and uh… um…” I trailed off, suddenly realizing how this was going to sound.

“Spit it out,” Rogers said. “I’m hoping she shoved a fig root up your ass or something, because right now you are on such thin ice that I’m about ready to shove you out my door.”

I flinched. “A massage.”

The cop’s face didn’t even twitch. “A massage,” he said with a sigh. 

I nodded. “Yeah. I know. It sounds weird. But she started at my shoulders and started working down my body. All the way to my feet. And Jessica didn’t stop either. Ever been massaged like that?” I asked.

He nodded with a sarcastic smile. “Oh yeah. Every weekend. Me and my buddies on the vice squad go down to one of the local Asian spas and pick out a pair of underage human trafficking victims and have them do a double massage on us. We pay them with drugs we stole from the evidence locker.”

The very ludicrousness of his statement was statement enough, even without the implied sarcasm. I gave him a cold stare. “That’s not very professional. And I could report you to Internal Affairs.”

The cop leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “And IA would laugh you out of their office, kid. There are no Asian Spas in this town and we don’t have a vice squad. Not for a place this size.” He let out a little sigh. “But you’re right. It was a little condescending of me. So where were we? Oh yeah. You were getting a Swedish massage from the black girl and the other one was rubbing your cock. And this was all non-consensual.”

I sighed. “Well, okay. So I wasn’t exactly objecting. I admit it. And it felt amazing. Of course a few minutes later Jessica must have been getting tired because she came up and switched with Chrissy. Then it was Chrissy doing those slow, non-stop strokes of my cock while Jessica massaged me.”

“How horrible for you,” Rogers muttered.

I shook my head. “Jessica was something else too. She deliberately stood in places where I could touch her, even bound. Or she’d press her crotch into the heel of my foot. And there was oil. Lots of it. And she’d masturbate herself on parts of me. My elbow. My toes. My fingers.”

“Enjoy that?” Asked Rogers.

“Well, it was certainly different. I’ve never had my foot fucked before.”

The cop sighed. “Look. We need to skip ahead. I get it. I do. You were having the best consensual but incredibly kinky sex you’ve ever had. Even had they unlocked you and let you up you would have stayed and gladly gone back down. So give me the cliff notes version.”

I stared at him. “You don’t want the details?” I demanded.

“Do I look like a scriptwriter of a porn movie? You haven’t told me jack about a crime.”

I let out an exasperated breath. “Okay. Maybe you have a point.”

“So, shorten this up. Get to the point where they actually did something you didn’t like.”

I thought for a moment. “Okay so after I came again during the massage, they dragged me to the bathroom. I used the toilet and then I was pushed into the shower. Both of them joined me. They scrubbed me down, mostly getting the oil off, and they had this amazing pine scented soap with bits of pumice in it that…” I trailed off, seeing the cop’s eyes. I coughed. “Right. Sorry. Okay. Then it was back to the bed, on my back, spread-eagled again and they started alternating again with Chrissy going first followed by Jessica. Non-stop.”

“Sucking and fucking?” Rogers asked.

I nodded. “Yeah. I mean no. Well, yes. Essentially. There were a lot of props. We did another story session. They used the pump on me again. Jessica wore clamps. Big metal clover ones. And Chrissy put white frosting on her nipples for me to lick off. But really all they did was alternate between handjobs, blowjobs, and grinding down on me.”

“And you came?”

“Yep. They never seemed satisfied. At least sexually, though I know that occasionally one of them would cum. It was always my orgasm that moved us on to the next scenario. The only time I got left alone was for about twenty minutes before lunch and I’m pretty damn sure I fell asleep too. Then Chrissy came in, let me up, still cuffed, mind you, and brought me back into the little dining room. Jessica was naked, tied hand and foot to the table, with her legs spread even wider than mine had been. And my lunch was laid out on her groin.”

“Really. What was on the menu?”

“Finger foods mostly. Carrots, celery sticks, apple slices, a few cheese sticks.”

The cop couldn’t help chuckling. “Long, narrow, penetrative foods.”

I smiled. “Yeah. I mean, I couldn’t help noticing. And Jessica also had some sort of creamy sauce squirted into her pussy. It was leaking out of her pussy.”

“What did it taste like?” The cop asked.

“Her pussy?”

“No. The sauce,” Rogers asked contemptuously.

I blinked. “I’m not sure. It was sweet but salty. With a tang to it.”

Rogers blinked. “What are you describing? The pussy or the sauce?”

“What? The sauce!”

He gave me a level stare. I coughed uncomfortably again. “Yeah. So after lunch it was a chair in the living room. They teased me. Dancing. More blowjobs. Oiling each other on the floor in front of me. Fucking each other while I was watching. Once they even put me on the floor with them and Chrissy put on this massive pink strap on and literally fucked Jessica up the ass with it while her mouth was wrapped around my cock. And then, while I was recovering from that, Jessica poured hot, white wax all over Chrissy tits and cunt, then whipped it off with my belt.”

Rogers blinked.

“Hey. You said you wanted the cliff notes version. Not the details.”

“Those weren’t details?”

I snorted. “Hardly. Detail is me describing the look in Jessica’s eyes every time Chrissy drove that pink dildo up into her ass. I could tell it wasn’t comfortable, that’s for damn sure. Or how about me relating the way Chrissy whimpered when the hot wax fell on each nipple, or her clit? That's a detail. What I’m providing is a continued timeline of…”

“Debauchery,” interrupted Rogers. “That’s all. Consensual sex. You haven’t given me squat.”

I sat back. “Because that night, after dinner, it all changed.”

“What do you mean, ‘it changed’,” Asked Rogers suspiciously.

I took a deep breath. “I mean I was done. Caput. Through. You have to understand, I’d cum more in that last twenty-four hours than I had in a month. I’d had sex practically non-stop. They were getting tired too, but you couldn’t really tell. Not the way they were switching off. Hell, for all I know one was getting a cat nap while the other was banging me. Or torturing me. But come on, they had to be wearing down, right? And I was going crazy. My cock was sore. It was bright red from the constant stimulation and my body just couldn’t handle it. That’s when I asked them to let me up. For real.”

“The other times weren’t real?” Rogers queried.

I shrugged. “Well, yes. But not so that I could leave. Just so I could reciprocate. You know?” I sighed. “But that evening, after dinner, they put me back on the bed and I just couldn’t take it. They just went right back to it too. Some sort of flavored oil, trying to rub some sort of stiffness back into my cock followed by these long, slow suckling moments, all swirling tongues and soft licks. It didn’t help that both of them were there either, finger fucking each other right in front of me. That’s when I asked them to let me go. At first they laughed it off, kissing me, each other, my cock, my chest, teasing me relentlessly about how no one has ever asked them that. But that got me a little angry and I started trying to get free. That’s when I realized the leather bondage cuffs weren’t exactly props. They were real. Real leather. Real steel fasteners. And the four poster bed? Solid. Like oak. I tried to break free and couldn’t. Had to be custom made. No way an Ikea or Wal-Mart product would have withstood what I tried to do.

“The girls didn’t like that either. It sort of turned things sour. I remember Chrissy coming right up to me, straddling my chest, rubbing her slick pussy on my sternum and cupping my face. ‘Please don’t be a naughty boy. Naughty boys get punished.’ I said something demanding, like ‘let me go’ or something and then I cursed a bit. This was a mistake.”

“Why was it a mistake?” Asked Rogers.

I slumped into my seat. “Because naughty boys get punished.”

For the first time Rogers leaned forward. “What did they do to you?”

I took a deep breath. “I was hard at that point, and well oiled. Both girls slid down to my hips and Jessica produced this metal rod. It was only two or three millimeters thick, and looked slick. They grabbed hold of my shaft, and then with slow, agonizing pressure, inserted the thing into my urethra.”

Rogers’ eyes widened. “The catheterized you?”

I shook my head. “Oh hell no. This was worse. A catheter is essentially a narrow tube, right? For peeing out of?  This was a thick rod they jammed through my cock all the way down to my balls.”

The cop considered this. “I suppose it hurt.”

“Damn right it did. That’s when they gagged me. A ball gag no less. Rubber.”

Rogers began taking notes in his little book. “How long were you… uh… tortured.”

I shrugged. “Thirty minutes? I have no idea. I do know they got out this glass wand thingy. It was purple. And every time they pressed it to my cock I got a painful jolt. Especially when they touched the metal ball at the end of the rod that was sticking up out of the top.” I pursed my lips. “This went on for about twenty minutes or so. Maybe thirty, like I said. Then Chrissy threw her leg over me and impaled herself on my cock. It was awful. It hurt me of course, being stiff like that. I have no clue how either. But Chrissy sure enjoyed it. She came. And then it was Jessica’s turn. Except when Jessica mounted me Chrissy grabbed the violet wand and began frying her tits, her ass, my balls, the soles of both our feet, everything. It was like an electricity free-for-all. Agony.

“After Jessica came they left me alone, but also with the rod still in my penis. I had trouble softening and after about fifteen minutes the girls came back and took the metal out. That’s when they shaved me.”

“Shaved you?” Rogers glanced up at my head, no doubt studying my thick hair.

“Not up there. They shaved my balls. And all my pubic hair. All of it. Then they used some sort of defoliant to clean up the stubble and missed parts.”

“Defoliant?” The cop laughed. “You mean a depilatory.”

I shrugged. “Whatever.”

“Defoliant is designed to take the leaves off of trees. Depilatory is a cosmetic designed to remove hair.”

I rolled my eyes. “Seems damned similar to me.”

“Why would they want you shaved?” He asked.

“Beats me,” I said. “Still don’t know. Except they started in on my balls at that point.”

Rogers winced. “Squeezing them?”

I shook my head. “Caressing. Lightly. With just their nails. It was like getting tickled, but worse. Drove me mad. And they kept it up for almost an hour, switching out every few minutes. Worse, they weren’t leaving the room. One would be caressing my balls while the other continued to work on my cock, sucking and rubbing it. Four hands.”

Corporal Rogers face had gone back to the stony look of before. “And this was horrible because?”

I sighed. “Look. Just because I like ice cream, doesn’t mean that you can tie me to a table and force feed it to me for three days. Or even one day. Or hell, one minute. That’s wrong. Just because they weren’t shoving needles under my fingernails, doesn’t mean I wasn’t their prisoner. It just means they weren’t as horribly cruel as they could have been.”

“So how long did this last?” Rogers asked, seeming to acquiesce to my interpretation.

“All evening. At least until nine o’clock or so. Then they piled on to me and we all fell asleep.”

“All of you?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Chrissy on one side, Jessica on the other, with me still spread-eagled in between. And yes. I was exhausted. And hurting. And uncomfortable. Even with two naked girls sprawled all over me.”

“Tough night.”

I sighed. “It wasn’t easy. And then it was Sunday morning. I woke up with hands on my balls, cupping me, followed by a soft mouth on my cock.”

“Christ. First thing?” Rogers muttered.

“Yeah. And I needed to use the restroom bad. Still, there are worse alarm clocks. Anyway Jessica got me all hard again and then I had one on my face, grinding her pussy into my mouth while the other bounced on my shaft. It made the whole bed rock. I was sort of lost in the moment until I exploded. Then the girls climbed down and together they uncuffed my arms, one at a time, putting me back into the handcuffs. I decided at that point that I was going to give them an ultimatum; release me or I was going to start being uncooperative.”

“Finally,” Rogers muttered.

“So I explained in no uncertain terms that I’d resist. That I’d become unruly if they didn’t free my hands.”

“What happened?”

“Well my feet were still bound to the bottom corners of the bed. Chrissy grabbed my wrists by the cuffs, then wrapped her other hand around my testicles. She began squeezing me, one ball at a time, sending waves of pain up through my scrotum. ‘Let me explain something to you, pretty boy,’ she said. ‘I will damn well do to you what I please, and we’re not letting you go until your cock is so raw and red that the idea of sex hurts.’  Then she gave me a hard enough squeeze to make my vision go dark. Next thing I knew the two of them were helping me to the bathroom again. My hands were cuffed behind my back and I now had a chain on the leather ankle cuffs I was wearing”

“I think that qualifies as kidnapping and assault,” Corporal Rogers said begrudgingly.

“Hell yeah it does,” I agreed. “But it also sort of gave me an idea about what was happening. I mean, I was already sore. It was taking, on average, almost a full hour to get me hard again enough to spurt anything, and the short breaks I was getting were barely enough to recharge. That’s when I realized that the cumming was just a way of keeping score. It was the different methods of getting me off that were the real issue.”

“I’m not sure I’m following you,” Rogers said, a hint of confusion in his voice.

I frowned. “There wasn’t a specific number of orgasms they were aiming for. Not ten, or twenty, or forty, or a hundred! They were after a physical condition. When I couldn’t get it up anymore. Not for anything.”

Rogers went quiet.

“And after breakfast? Back to the bench. Another massage, except this time, right in front of my face, they were playing bondage porn videos. I came again. They waited ten minutes before starting the massage again, with lotion this time. Aloe Vera. I know. I could smell it. Up and down my back and my legs, all while the other one was concentrating on my cock. And a different video was showing too. It took forty five minutes, but then there I was, squirting another paltry load into their hands. And I felt amazing. All that massage? My shoulders needed it too after that night. 

The cop stared.

“What?” 

“I’m trying to imagine what that might be like,” the corporal said. “Being massaged like that.”

I couldn’t help grinning. “Under the right circumstances it would have been fantastic,” I assured him. Then I frowned. “No. Actually, even under the wrong circumstances it was fucking fantastic,” I admitted. “You’ve got no clue. Two sets of hands on you… one just rubbing your cock and the other every other part? My God it’s like heaven on earth.”

Rogers held up his hand. “Okay, we’re getting a bit far afield here. So they massaged you and you had officially already told them to let you go. I presume they kept you the whole day since it’s only Monday morning now?

I nodded. “Yeah. After the massage I was taken for another shower, except they left me in my cuffs and put the leash back around my scrotum. Let’s just say they made it clear they weren’t going to take any chances with me.”

Rogers nodded. “Did you ever have a chance to overpower one of them?”

I shook my head. “No. If I wasn’t bound to the bed they were both there. Always. Even when I was just showering with Jessica, or Chrissy, the other would be waiting right outside the stall, usually holding on to the string that went to my testicles. So even if I knocked one of them out I’d still be bawling on the floor, curled up into a ball, hoping that the blood flow to my balls would be restored as quickly as possible.”

The cop noted that down on the paper. “So how many more times were you sexually assaulted?”

I looked up, thinking. “On Sunday? I didn’t really keep count. It was back and forth. And I was the real problem. I was exhausted, sore, tender, and by the time we fell asleep on Sunday night it was taking close to two hours of intense sexual stimulation to even get me hard enough to fuck. And orgasms? I was dry firing.”

“So what happened this morning?”

I shrugged. “Same as the other mornings. Pre-breakfast sex followed by after-breakfast sex. That last one took over three hours by the way, and then after I exploded, which let me assure you was quite agonizing, the girls got down and studied my cock.”

“Why?” Rogers asked.

“I presume it was to evaluate if they’d met their goal. Personally, I think they had. My dick looks like it’s been through a grist mill. It’s red, abraided, sensitive to the touch, and red. I’m sore to the touch. Not only that, but I’m depleted. I haven’t gotten a hard on a single time we’ve been sitting here, talking about it. I’m worn out. Totally. All I want is to take a couple of pain pills, tape an icepack over my crotch, crawl into my bed, curl up around a soft pillow, and fall asleep.”

Rogers considered that. “And how did they release you?”

“They let me dress, except for the string around my balls. I didn’t want to mess things up, so I cooperated. One hundred percent. Then I was blindfolded and led out of the apartment. By the string tugging on my sack. It was dark outside. I had no idea where I was. There were stairs. Then I got put in a car. We drove around for about twenty minutes, with Chrissy sitting next to me, her hand in my pants, fingers wrapped around my prick, threatening to rub if I didn’t sit there like a good little boy.”

Rogers frowned. “You aren’t giving me much to work with,” he complained.

I lifted my hands. “They didn’t give me much to work with!” I shook my head. “We pulled up into the garage at the school. The one by the student union. Chrissy had literally tied my thumbs to the string around my scrotum. Then she zipped me up, pushed me out, and sped away. By the time I managed to get my thumbs loose and the blindfold off, they were gone.” I let out a deep breath and shook my head. That’s it.”

The cop eyed me. “And then you called us.”

I nodded. “And then I called you.” 

Rogers nodded. “I have to admit, this is the most impressive bullshit story I’ve ever heard.”

I blinked. “You think I’m making this up?”

He leaned forward. “You know what I think?” He asked. “I think you got drunk with a bottle of baby oil, a subscription to OnlyFans, and enough liquor to keep you in a stupor for days. And you’re using this as some sort of excuse to get out of an assignment, or a test or something.” He shook his head. “Well, I’m not about to give you jack. Even if a tenth of what you told me is true, you went willingly. You enjoyed it. You reveled in it. Hell, from the way you were describing it, I’m not sure if these two girls showed up again and said, ‘hey, you want to come back to our place for round two,’ that you wouldn’t go.”

I blinked, shocked. “You really think I’d willingly put myself through that again?” I asked in disbelief. I pushed back from the table. “Fine. Whatever,” I declared. “You’re a shitty cop.” I stood up. “Don’t believe me. There are two rapists on the loose at the University and you’re just going to sit there and belittle me? Well, fuck you. I hope that you’re the next guy they drag off.” 

I stood there for a moment longer, then pushed out of the room. Rogers didn’t follow. I stumbled out into the dark night air and headed toward my dorm room. 

But for a moment, I looked around.

And wondered.

Would I go? If they invited me again? 

I didn’t want to think about it.

Because I’m not sure my cock could take the answer.