The Itch

NOTICE: All the Standard warnings about being of age, being aware of your community standards apply to the following story! Please read no further if you are underage 18/21--or live in a conservative area--or are offended by explicit sexual stories. This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to anyone is strictly coincidental.

Synopsis: A young man and his girlfriend are hitch-hiking along the Texas coast, and are lured into a home then drugged and bound, and sexually abused.

April 25, 1995

I picked the two of them up on the Highway, hitching between coastal towns in Texas. The boy, Michael Allen Caldwell was twenty, the girl, Susan Lee Daniels was nineteen. They claimed they were married; I laughed under my breath. They were trash from one of the backwater towns, trying to sneak away from mean parents and dead end lives. They claimed they were on their way to Houston, but hell, they didn't know anybody in Houston. They were just two punk kids, running away.

The boy was a walking jerk dream. His faded 501's fit tight on his muscled thighs, and flat butt. He was about 5'11" tall and 170 lbs. His chest was broad and his pecs jutted rather than projected. His nipples were cones that thrust down, poking the tight white cotton singlett out in two little darts where it clung to his chest. The size 10 walking boots were worn and scuffed, and the white crew socks were drooped around his ankles. Dark brown hair curled up and over the neckline of his singlett, and there seemed to be a dark patch that divided his pecs and swirled down towards the waist of his jeans. Lighter brown hair curled down his forearms and covered his fingers, and I guessed his toes. Above the edge of the drooping socks, there was more thick, curling hair. His eyebrows were dark brown, but the hair on his head was lighter like that on his arms. I wondered what nestled between the firm mounds of his ass. He had full lips, green eyes, and a light brown mustache that was too thin to be mature. I wondered how sensitive his little ears were. I made my mind up to find out.

The girl was in a short skirt, with tanned, long legs, and shapely feet in sandles. Her breasts were full, and thrust up, the nipples poking out the material of her skimpy halter. She was blond, but the roots were dark. I wanted to see more; it looked like she had a cum every time she rubbed her legs together. I imagined her clit was 1/2 inch long, and jutted out to get a good rub against his fat dong every time he screwed in and out of her, causing he cunt to spasmodically grip and massage his big boy pecker. That thought made my cock go hard, as we drove in silence.

When I offered them a place to stay for the night, a meal and a shower, they were grateful rather than suspicious. They were simple kids, though not local. He looked like he'd been in the military; maybe they'd taken off after the end of his tour. I wondered how easy it would be to make them just disappear.

After dinner, while she went upstairs to take a long bath, I slipped him a mickey in his beer. It did not take him long to pass out on the couch, his legs spread, his body slouched, his head lolling back. I sat down next to him for a minute, tracing my finger over his lips, into his ears, and then rubbed them against his nipples through the t-shirt. Even unconscious, his rubbery tit meat hardened and coned. I couldn't wait to roll and suck 'em. I squeezed his full crotch, and felt the fat bar inside. Yeah, this would be a pleasure.

I lifted him over my shoulder, and took him downstairs into my cyclone basement. I slipped him out of his clothes, pausing to stroke firm pecs and nipples, pick lint out of his navel, sniff his starchy balls and his wide, muscled feet. His prong was a the fat spike I expected, jutting from his groin, curved like a scimitar, but not too long; I figured it would be about six inches hard. But his clipped knob was fat and rosy, and he had a wide flange and deep piss of my favorite types. I closed my fist around his prick tip and it fit like a golf ball in the palm of my hand. His prick involuntarily stiffened a bit, and I could feel his dick head getting rubbery. Shit, when that fucker was hard it would take all kinds of work. My dick was dripping.

I put him on his knees on a padded stool with an upper rest for his torso. His head rested on the upper portion of the bench, and I affixed a collar that attached to the bench, and fixed his face sideways. Spreading his legs, I attached his ankles to padded restraints on a spreader bar to keep them wide apart on the stool, while his sexy feet draped over the edge. I noticed the long, curved toes did have hair on the two largest on each foot. Then I cinched his arms behind his back and pulled them up and secured them to a rope in the ceiling. He wasn't in pain, nor stretched too tightly so that he would cramp. But he was secured firmly. Then I fixed a funnel gag that allowed him to breathe easily, but kept him from being able to say anything. That's how I like my men, strong, sexy, secure, and gagged. Before I went upstairs to the girl, I palmed and stroked his prick to a quick but useless erection. I had a natural here.

A handkerchief over the nose ended a brief and useless struggle with her. When I finished with her, she was secured on her back on a four-poster bed in the guest room. Her legs were attached to padded restraints over her head, and spread to the two corners at the top of the bed. Her arms were secured outward from her body, and allowed to flap helplessly over the edge of the bed. She had a ball gag, but a rubber one with air holes and not too large for her mouth and I blindfolded her. I propped up her back with a special pillow to support her lower back. Jesus, her pussy was spread before me, light blood hair all around her hole, but the lips relatively smooth and visible. Her clit was large, and just like her nipples had hardened while I secured her naked and helpless on the bed.

Time to have some fun. I pulled out a slender vibrating dildoe just an half inch in diameter, greased it up, and gently slid it up her butt. The using some straps and a leather holster I secured it around her hips. Then I switched on its vibrator to the low setting. She had come out of her unconscious stupor and had begun to try to get a sense of what had happened when the vibrator clicked on sending a humming buzz deep into her bowels. She jumped like I had used an electric shock on her. Her butt squirmed, and I began to smell the tell tale signs of pussy. Her head lolled back and forth, she made small squealing sounds through her gag, and scrabbled her fingers uselessly over the edge of the bed.

Looking between her legs, I could see her clit slip up and out of its hood at the top of her slit. The lips slicked, wet and greasy, and then turned dark and red. Slipping the fingers of my left hand up to her left right breast, I began rolling her hard nipple, which turned red and caused more groans and gasps through her gag. With my right hand I took up a very small, firm horse-hair brush, like the brushes women used in the fifties on their eyelashes. It had about a quarter inch of tightly packed, stiff bristles on a small handle designed for fine work. I began a slow, tantalizing path up one side of her pussy lips and down the other, just avoiding her clit for the moment. Once in a while, I'd threaten to burrow the bristles into her cunt hole that seemed tight but could not resist the tiny brush. Then back to itching the sensitive lips. Within minutes her cunt was swimming in clear goo, wet and slick, the lips peeling open to expose even more of the red gash. When I finally had her ass grinding up and down on the bed against the pillow, I made my hand into mini-vibrator and twirled the bristles against her defenseless clit. It stretched out in an angry demand for attention, and I gave it a workout.

She began to cum, unable to control her spaztic cunt and insatiable clit. I worked her through a series of spasms, pulling and tugging her titty, and turning up the vibrator in her ass to keep her mind off finishing her cum. I could hear her screaming into the gag...yeah, a 'screamer!' As long as the brush worked its magic, she kept yelling and groaning. When I let her down, her clit stayed erect as if it could not get enough of the scratchy bristles. I made a mental note. Her chest heaved, and I let her rest. The night was just beginning...I whispered sweet nothings in her ear, told her that she would be just fine as long as she cooperated. I explained to her that her cunt needed work to stop the ITCH, and I would make sure it felt good, real good, and her clit would get rubbed by lots of hard pricks, different sizes and shapes, but all with a hard ridge that would maul her joy button. Just to help get her ready, I rubbed some special cream on her pussy and nipples, and greased the dildo again and slipped it back up her squirming ass. I watched as in seconds, her natural moisture coupled with the irritant in the cream I used made her ass start grinding again, this time from the horrible ITCHING. I used one gloved finger to slip some of the cream deep up her cunt hole, making sure the walls were well greased. Her tits went hard again, and I lubricated them with the same cream, and she began babbling again behind the gag. As she groaned, I scratched a fingernail on her still tumescent clit, then leaned close and blew some of my hot breath against it. She jumped having a mini cum that only made her tickling high up inside her cunny more unbearable, then I left her to baste in her juices for a while, her clit stabbing into the air begging for some attention.

Down in the basement, I found the boy had awoken but was a still a little groggy, his fingers struggling futilely to loosen the bonds holding his wrists behind him secure. Perspiration rolled down from the dark hair under his arm pits and wet his brow. I was on the side away from his eyes, and I blindfolded him to make his situation truly helpless. He tried to move his head and speak through the gag, but his efforts were fruitless, coming out in muffled tones and groans. I leaned down, and took a deep whiff of his body. The perspiration was musky, but not rank. His hair still smelled of soap from the shower he took when we first got home. I leaned down behind him, and took a deep scent next to his balls. The strong starchy smell was an elixir, and the eggs had involuntarily tightened in their pebbled pouch. Much to his surprise, I gently spread his ass cheeks and smelled his hairy crack. No strong smell, more soap and a sweaty scent. I used my finger-nail to gently scratch the puckered pink ass lips. He rotated his hips as if to escape the finger. Then I drew a fingernail over each duck egg nestled in his full scrotum, and then along the ridge from balls to ass pucker. he wiggled, he grunted, and best of all his dick hardened involuntarily...I could hear him sucking air through the funnel.

I squeezed some of the special cream lube on the index finger of a latex gloved right hand, and began a gradual but firm irritation of his clenched butt hole. The dark hair in his crevice covered the tip of my finger when he flexed his ass against the invasion, but he could not obstruct my inevitable path. Plus, once the cool cream touched his hidden portal, and the tender flesh, it became at once irritated by the itching sensation. The itching caused the tiny knot to spasm and the muscles to relax and then flex. I was able to breach the portal on one of those spasms and worm my fingertip gently into the clenching butt. Once I got my fingertip in, I removed it suddenly and replaced it with a nozzle of a squeeze bottle. I squeezed some creamy lube up and into his hole, then I once again screwed my fingertip in behind it. When I finally, gradually, wormed my blunt, finger up his confused hole all the way to his prostrate I let my nail, still outlined against the thin latex, scratch against it, then prodded, then scratched again. The relentless finger achieved my intent. His prick jerked rock hard, curved and jutting up, dripping a clear lube from the piss slit, straining to accommodate the pressure deep up his butt. I whispered into his ear, told him how boys like him needed strict cock supervision. He'd been playing around and using that dick too much, but I would take care of that for a while. I explained that in my experience, guys like him were better off being secured under restraints, and their angry hard dicks milked and drained on a schedule ...then I rubbed his nut hard prostrate again. Up burped more pre-scum, lubing his fat dick knob that rested against his stomach atop his painfully hard prick stalk. He squealed and groaned behind his gag, and his body tensed from the knew and strange sensation deep up his fundament. The pressure was unrelenting, but his dick though straining and rigid, could not yet ejaculate. I whispered again: "yeah, that's it, someone should have been doing this to you since you were sixteen, keeping that dick hard and wet, but not letting you waste the gism. I'm gonna give that cock relief on a schedule, and you're gonna earn it by keeping in good shape and following every order I give you. Otherwise, you're gonna be tied down and shown what happens to disobedient got that tiger, you need training and I'm gonna give it to you." His hands clenched helplessly, and his perspiration dripped in streams from under his arms, and his brow. He couldn't see or speak, only groan and moan as I handled his precious body, a body that had never been out his control in this way. I had the fucker sex hard and scared shitless.

He gasped and groaned as my finger continued its unerring work, tried to plead or talk or something, but when I wet the fingers of my other hand and begin rolling his conical tits, I was sure he lapsed into a new kind of moaning. Yeah, he was the kind of boy whose body dictated his response. He wanted to fight, he wanted to escape, but his dick, his tits, and ass betrayed him, making him a howling boy slut. I alternated the fingers from plucking the sensitive rubbery teats, to tickling his piss lips with my finger pads and revolving my callused fingertips around his pebbled, hard glans, to gather the lube and moisten his titties for more of my roiling. After his dick was slick from lube and desperate for some rough contact that would relieve his tension, I suddenly plunged my tongue deep in his exposed ear held fast by the collar. At the same instant, I used my fingernails to scratch, rather than tease his plump, over-stimulated dick tip. Without warning, his glans expanded from this sensation, and his cock spasmed, helplessly squirting ropes of thick, white cum up and out. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven...ten shots of varying distance and force, then drips, finally ending in a drool while my finger played a number on his prostrate, and my fingers pulled and scratched the stiff tips of each tit. His chest heaved; his body dripped sweat. I noticed his toes had curled hard when he came. I wondered how they would react if I used a stiff bristled brush on them while I probed up his asshole with a vibrating little prod to make the cum squirt from his fat balls.

I picked up a slim dildoe with a spiked tickler on the tip and gently, gradually screwed it up his hole so he would not be in pain. Using a harness, I secured it around his waist and thighs. Then I turned it on low, a steady buzzing testifying to the maddening work on the unprotected prostate, already sensitive from the previous prodding of my finger. His dick snapped up hard again after a brief respite from the initial cum. More lube burped up to the lips of his thick, wide prick knob. Using the dregs of his cum and the new lube, I began a slow twist of my fingertips around the sensitive glans once again. His dick was desperate for real contact because it had not been massaged into submission in a clenching fist or gripping pussy when he had come the first time. As he gasped and groaned, desperately trying to keep his prick tip from my rough, tickling fingertips, I whispered into the ear so recently moistened from my screwing tongue. "Yeah big boy, that dick needs work and supervision. Guys like you need to be kept prick hard for a week before you're allowed to screw some chick, and then if you cum too quickly, you should get a cattle prod on the balls. From now on, that pecker will only cum when its given permission. You got that tiger, you're just a dick on a boy from now on, and you're new job will be to satisfy others with that thick cudgel...and maybe, just maybe, you'll get a little relief too. Those spunky balls are going serve up slime on command from now on...yeah...."

As I tickled his dick almost beyond endurance, I also told him how I knew some guys who be happy to relentlessly fuck his girlfriend into a delirium of orgasms. I told him he would hear her groan and beg for dick as they masterfully fucked her silly, and gave her itchy cunt a cum bath to soothe the endless ITCH. I told him we would jerk her off in restaurants, on car trips, in bars, just to see her eyes roll and watch her bite her lips as she gushed pussy juice on waiting fingers. And using a remote controlled, powerful little electric ass plug up his butt, he'd have to sit there and watch with a hand massaging his hard pecker, but not enough for him to cum. We'd invite guys in johns to give him hand jobs, and take him to drive ins where he could be moved from lap to lap while we pinched his titties, sucked his ears, and played with his pecker. When we had both of them at home, he would be strapped right below long and stiff dicks reaming in and out of her hungry pussy, and he would have to lick her cum and theirs from her itchy hole to soothe her twat between screws, and to keep her primed and ready for more dick. If he didn't I'd use an electric brush on his balls, feet, abs and under his arms until he screamed himself silly begging us to stop tickling him. Fuck if his randy dick didn't just hardened up, his tits jutting against my plucking fingers, and he moaned like I'd said stuff that got to him and stretched his fuck pole with unexpected, mindless pleasure.

I told him if he licked pussy good, and also the men's assholes to help them enjoy the fucking, he would get the gentle dildoe up his hole and a nice rough palm on his prick to soothe his needs on a regular schedule. If he licked the guys toes, and their arm pits, he'd be bounced on laps while his boy dick was massaged to gism spewing cums. Otherwise, I use my own version of an electric toothbrush on his dick knob and up his asshole, and I'd add some irritant (the cream) to raise angry red bumps on his prick tip, on his tits, and up his butt along the sensitive lining. The last thought must have sent him over the edge, because without warning, he creamed again against my teasing fingers as I rasped out the threat of scrub brushing his dick knob. I immediately decided I'd try it anyway since the thought seemed to cause him such pleasure.

"Oh, oh... now you've been a bad boy, and creamed without permission. Well, I'll just have to come back here and give you the appropriate punishment, later...." He sagged in his restraints, and seemed to sob behind the gag. But his dick hadn't gone soft.

This boy was going to stay hard until I decided who would get both he and the girl for the overseas market. I wondered how he'd look with his legs strapped over his head, and mouth gagged open while his hard prick was jerked off into it and filled with ropes of his own cum? If he was lucky, I'd have guys bring over some of their boys stashed away around the county, brought over to be masturbated into his funnel for him to swill their cum too. Some of these boys were only allowed to cum with permission for days depending on how unruly and undisciplined they were, and a couple of hard cases I knew had been kept bonerized but without relief for more than two weeks; he would get some good loads down that throat before we shipped him abroad for some rich folks pleasure.

Some folks has just got the ITCH, and they need to have it soothed and managed. Michael Caldwell and Susan Daniels were now lost from the pages of history, but their supple young bodies would serve as tasty morsels for many a wealthy person's palate, and getting them ready would be an absolute delight. As I left him to return to Susan, I scooped some of the thick white scum that had burped from his dick onto my finger and tasted it. A nutty, starchy flavor, and more where that came from. Boy was this gonna be fun....

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