In encounters as this I usually took a commanding affect thought my deepest personality was more passive. These lower class boys were accustomed to taking orders. If they didn't, I smart wack on their tender behinds were in order. They would soon become docile and useful for satisfying my sexual needs. BUT, Pucky, dear friend, I had a sinking feeling that this boy was not to be amenable. Of course, initially I thought he was becoming so.
Let me explain. This false sea boy, now displaying his unbelievably gorgeous chest, those two tiny, pink protuberances pointed and erected attested to his interest in sex with me. At this point I usually might say, "Now laddie, on your knees. Crawl over to me and begin suckling on my English toffee."
I opened my mouth to speak when Billy Wheaten strode over to me with an upsetting proprietary attitude, saying "Let's get these lovely clothes off."
He slipped my jacket off my shoulders. This act had me breathless. Why? I was, by his ministrations, transported back to an earlier age. He became Miss Crump, my inestimable nanny. I felt as if I had just come in from childish play and she was preparing me for my bath. This effect on me was quite powerful as well as surprising.
Next he removed my waistcoat, undoing each of the eight buttons, counting them aloud as he did. His counting drew me deeper into my childhood. As he bent to remove my shoes and stockings, I gazed down on his gleaming blond, curly hair and suppressed an overwhelming desire to pet his beautiful locks. I steeled myself against this gesture. Any such show of tenderness would further hurl me down the road of obedient childhood, the threshold of which I was teetering already. Next he slipped my braces off my shoulders and removed my collar and tie. My bare neck, without the dignifying tie and collar made me feel like a hog carrier. Now only my shirt and union suit were between me and nakedness. Truthfully, I felt the desire to be naked, to doff my identify as a "toff". To gamble on a lawn, in short to leave years of cultivation and return to an earlier period.
As he removed the last barriers of civilization and I stood naked, more so by virtue of my erected penis, he patted my check almost paternally. Strangely, I was grateful for that show of tenderness, but the image of Miss Crump intruded. I half expected him to announce that my nightly rectal temperature must be taken, that my bath was being drawn, and I desired six slaps on my rump for some earlier transgression.
"You are quite the beauty, Percy. You ought remain bare, always. It levels our stations."
Keeping his lustrous blue eyes on me, he quickly removed his spurious seaman's uniform. I noted he worn no underwear and that accounted for the revealing nature of the front of his pants. He might as well have worn a cod piece, a stripped one at that, with tassel.
"Have you been a good boy today?"
This query shocked me. How could he have fallen so completely into the fantasy that was playing in my brain, that brain so addled as if I had drunk a complete bottle of port.
Further strangeness as I rote answered, in a six year old Percy voice, "No, I have been bad."
"Then you must lay across my bare knees and take your punishment in a manful way."
I shuffled over to him as he sat on that black Chinese inlaid mother-of-pearl chair, you know it, and took my position over his warm, muscle legs.
"Are you ready?"
"Yes please, I need this, I have been so bad." (Could that really be me saying that?)
His large hand crashed down on my delicate, white arse. I cried out in a child's voice. He struck again and again. My arse cheeks were now almost anaesthetized from the repeated blows. Great heat emanated from them. This heat seemed to stimulate that hidden (and greatly protected) opening between my rump cheeks. I was certain that the nether mouth was heavily puckered and vibrating in a kissing motion.
"Now youngster," he said, "Time for your enema and then perhaps a treat, followed by a nice warm bath. You will sleep beautifully tonight, and the treat, delivered by me, will complete your transformation.
A moment to remind you, dear friend, I am no bum boy. Whilst I have buggered my way to this age, I had always been the bugger. The thought of an enema, however, so reminiscent of childhood seemed not to be a violation.
"Get it," he commanded.
I looked at him, puzzled, "Get what Mr. Wheaten?" I never questioned my use of "Mister" though that term catapulted him to a position of equality, even superiority.
"You enema kit, you foolish boy, and hurry."
I padded into my adjourning WC. In a drawer I found the appliance, not used for almost twenty years. It seemed in good shape. I carried to him.
He examined it and then told me to lay on the bed, in a position with me backside up in the air, resting my weight on my elbows and knees. I meekly complied whilst he went into the toilet room and ran water. Soon he returned and began sticking the small end of the black hard tubber tube into my anus.
In fear, I had closed my aperture tightly so that even that small device could not enter. He laughed at me. "You will take this black tube and anything else I care to insert."
My backside was already sensitive from my flogging, so the small pinch he delivered was painful and caused me to leave off my squeezing of my arse hole so that the enema tube slipped in. It had been greased, and that facilitated its journey up my bowel.
In a moment I was cooing. Actually out loud. The warm water soothed me, made me totally pliable It wasn't until much later that I discovered that he had added Laudanum to the water in the rubber bag.
And so, he rubbed my back lovingly and fed this mixture into my buttocks. I said over and over a thanks for the wonderful feelings I was experiencing. We were like brothers, he the controller of the water, and I the grateful receiver. But the pleasantness was soon to end. My stomach was greatly distended and I complained loudly.
"Just a little more. Don't be a baby. Hold it within you until you can blessedly expel the water."
I gritted my teeth like a good boy. Finally he announced that the delivery bag was empty and I might go to the loo and get rid of this painful load of water. Hunched over grotesquely, I crab walked to the waiting commode. Even before I was settled down on the seat I loud explosion filled the room with its shameful sounds. This was followed by loud plots, gurgles and hisses. I never realized that shitting could be such an overwhelming pleasure. Finally there was no fecal matter or water to expel.
I washed myself at the basin and rubbed my hind quarters with Messrs. Smith and Delaney men's perfume. Naked with a large smile on my face I emerged in a cloud of perfume. Billy was lolling on the bed. He had a stiff cock sticking up in the air like the periscope of one of those new underwater craft.
He motioned me to approach the bed, like Victoria on the throne. I walked slowly. He said, "I promised you a treat. This will be it. Sit on my cock."
"What?" I exclaimed, but without great volume for the additive to the enema had made me a bit sleepy and compliant. He repeated his order. I scrambled up and faced him, my legs bent on either side of his hips and lowered myself unto his prong. I settled down. It was entirely inside of me. It hurt monstrously, but he slowly pitched his hips up and down and the pain subsided, replaced by a wonderful sexual feeling. I knew about that mysterious organ just inside the arse hole and it was this that he was stimulating.
Soon I was rocking wantonly and emitting low wailing cries of pleasure like a pick up boy from the docks. His face was grinning at me, but I could see that he was also in the grip of profound sexual excitement. His eyes were narrowed, the blue barely glinting through his lush eyelashes. His pretty, full mouth was pursed in a silent sound of OOOOOH. I knew that he would soon enter that helpless realm of orgasm and would leave the Earth for a short while.
Then he reached out and put his hand loosely around my stiff cock. I pushed upwards to get more sensation from it. He tightened his hand and began to shag me repeatedly. My groans turned to crying sobs of deep sexual sensation.
He opened his eyes now. He shouted at me, "Reach your peak, NOW!" My eyes shut, my face screwed up in agony and I shook and squirted a mighty stream that landed on Billy and my own chest. My arse hole vibrated and closed hard on his cock. He was drooling now and his face and neck turned bright red. He commenced a vigorous fucking motion and I felt his hot seed bathing my insides as I finished my own orgasm.
"Don't move," he ordered. "Stay where you are until you feel my erection subside. Do this everytime."
I nodded and waited. I began to feel foolish and humiliated. I was a fucked goose and he was my master.
He slid away and got off the bed and sat in that Chinese chair. "It is now time to tell you what your future will be. First off I must reintroduce myself. I real name is Billy Crump."
End Part Two