Leo Melamed: A Life in Futures, A Debt to the Past

A true story like Schindler's List, but the country is Lithuania and the savior of Jews is Japanese. 

From Crain's Chicago Business.com 

Reinsertion of Jack's Insertions - December Back Half

Dec. 15

The ladies wasted no time in retrieving their caged prisoner. After Maggie led Dick in from the garage, she told Frank and I to get him hanging from the frame. We did this with cuffs to his wrists that hooked onto the lowest chain links that were bolted into one of the horizontal, overhead beams. His was able to stand with his leather boots on the floor and his arms spread above his head in a V shape.

 

If my text seems boring, it’s because I was bored. You see, this is what happens when things aren’t planned out properly... or in this case, when the plans are suddenly altered without consultation from all participants.

 

Maggie’s idea of fun times (and Laura went along with it) was to completely emasculate her husband, or if you ask me, dehumanize him. And I suppose I might have gotten into it had he been naked, but shit, everything was covered except for his balls and cock... and although they were fairly handsome, they weren’t nearly beautiful enough to overcome the (to me) ridiculous-looking black leather mummy costume.

 

I think Frank’s original plan was to lower the esteem of both McKenzies by putting Maggie through a workout of erotic tortures, while forcing her husband to helplessly watch without benefit of participation. I would have been all for that, but the women kind of took over to do their own thing, and since neither Frank nor I could get into it, we both ended up being mostly spectators, occasionally helping out with logistical assistance when asked.

 

So, let me summarize what they did as quicky as possible. Sorry, if you’re into this sort of thing you’ll have to find more enthusiastic descriptions elsewhere, because I can’t write what I don’t feel. Bottom line, they brutalized his cock and his balls. Maggie started by using a black, plastic riding crop, while Laura used her open hands. They slapped his nuts and whipped his pecker and he screamed and called them mistress... you know, one of the ladies would say, “You’re just a bitch, aren’t you?” And he’d say, “Yes, Mistress.” Then, they’d punish him anyway, regardless that he gave the correct answers, regardless that he was obedient. Laura eventually got her flogger and they had his dick so red it almost looked purple.

 

Of course, such attacks on the man’s penis never allowed it to become fully erect, and so he never was a man. That was the point. And the point was driven home when Maggie unzipped part of his costume to expose his butt. Then, they started whipping him there and on his balls and his cock while degrading him with verbal insults. About the time Maggie donned a strap-on dildo and Laura grabbed a hand-held dildo, I had seen enough.

 

I guess I was expecting Frank to come up with some clever way to participate, but he never did. I might have expected that Laura and/or Maggie would have used Frank and/or myself as their dildos to more or less fuck some femininity into their prisoner, but that never happened either, thank god. So, while Maggie fucked her husband and Laura flogged his dick, Frank and I drifted further and further away from the scene.

 

“Hey, Frank, my feet feel nasty after walking in your garage.”

 

“Are you saying my garage floor’s dirty?”

 

“Aren’t they all?”

 

“No.”

 

“Ok. Your floor is not dirty, but it’s not spotless either. Let me try this angle, Mr. I-know-you’re-not-that-dense. How about a swim? I need some freshening up.”

 

“And I need some fresh air.”

 

So, my December 15 insertion is kind of a downer, huh? Oh, well, not all relationships are perfect, and the deterioration of ours wasn’t the end of the world. You’ve got to go through the swamp to get back on dry land. That night, the water in Mr. and Mrs. Johnson’s swimming pool never felt so good.

 

 

Next is Dec. 19

 

_____

 

Dec. 19

“Well, Frank, looks like the ladies took over your show.”

 

Frank and I had already been in the water about five minutes, swimming separately above and below the surface to chlorine away the smell of their basement. Their basement didn’t smell, the activity taking place in their basement smelled.

 

“That’s ok. You know how it is, Jack. Whatever makes Laura happy is all right with me.”

 

We had congregated in the deep end with our arms folded atop the concrete deck near water’s edge. Our chins rested on our forearms while our legs casually tread water.

 

“Did you know Maggie planned to do that to him?”

 

“No. My understanding was that he’d be hooked up to the frame while we worked on her, and then Laura and maybe me.”

 

“It’s kinda gross.”

 

“No doubt. I can’t figure a man wanting his cock treated that way.”

 

“I know. The damn thing was turning purple.” I kept my right hand on the deck and reached into the water with my left. “Yours might be a limp rag right now, but it’s still a handsome fella.” I pumped him in my fist to try and bring his pecker to life.

 

“Hell, his dick was limp, too.” Frank pretended not to notice my hand. His penis certainly didn’t notice. “What’s the deal, Jack? There’s no fucking way a man can get hard when someone’s doing that to his peter. Beating on it with a riding crop, for Christ’s sake... how’s that supposed to turn a man on? That’s what I don’t understand.”

 

“Well, Frank, I don’t know much about it and haven’t bothered to learn because I don’t care. You know me. I want a man’s cock to be fucking something or getting sucked. Other than that, leave me out of it.”

 

“What I really don’t get is Laura. She told me she didn’t care much for shoving dildos up a guy’s ass. That’s why we kinda drifted away from those two, but she sure did a 360 tonight.”

 

“Hey, Frank, it’s ok.” I shifted myself closer to him so I could improve my manual stimulation technique. “Maybe she enjoys whipping the guy’s cock and balls. Maybe she’s thinking, ‘Here, take that, you little sissy.’ Or maybe she’s just trying it out to see if she likes it.”

 

“Yeah. She probably’s curious as to whether or not it’ll turn her on.”

 

As I moved behind Frank and used his shoulder to keep myself afloat, my left hand finally felt some growth. Meanwhile, Frank kept on talking as though nothing else was going on.

 

“Having them around worries me a bit.”

 

“Why?”

 

“I like Maggie ok, but never really have cared for Dick... not sexually... not even as a friend. Laura likes him a lot more than I do.”

 

“So? Why shouldn’t she? She likes Dick’s dick the same way you like Maggie’s tits and pussy. There’s nothing more to it than that. Right?”

 

“Hope so.”

 

At this point I let go of Frank’s cock, even though I had managed to bring him to full erection. “Come on, Frank. Laura worships the ground you walk on. I don’t know much, but I know when she looks at you her lips salivate. That means her pussy salivates, too. She never ever looks at him that way. What happened to you? Worried about a little prick like Dick McKenzie? Fuck him. In fact, I’m sick of the McKenzies... tired of thinking about ‘em and talking about ‘em. Turn your ass around and let me give you an underwater BJ. I need you to be a man, Frank. Think of your god damned wife who loves the hell out of you and give me a Frank Johnson load.”

 

Frank did turn around and moved to the corner. He clasped the palms of his hands onto the pool deck in a quasi-crucifixion pose, leaving his body to hang and float with the water’s surface just above his tits. Taking a deep gulp of air, I submerged, clasped onto Frank’s butt to keep me under and buried his dick to the back of my throat. I stroked on him until it was time for oxygen, surfaced, gulped and repeated. Again and again I went under, and each submersion brought him closer to explosion. Each submersion also became shorter in time, because my own excitement and underwater activity quickly used up my oxygen supply.

 

“Ok, Frank,” I panted the sixth time I surfaced. “If I drown, at least it’ll be a happy death. Don’t mourn for me.”

 

My good sense of humor must have pleased him, because he gave me his load on that one, but it was risky business on my part to stay down there until Frank was finished and I had everything sucked out. Frank’s seed tastes just as good under water as above, not that you needed to know that. When I came up to fill my tortured lungs, Laura was standing on the deck right behind her husband’s head. His eyes were closed and apparently had been for some time.

 

“Hey, Frank,” I coughed. “Look... (choke)... who’s here.”

 

“Hi, darling,” he turned around happy. “Jack and I had a good long talk.”

 

“I don’t know how Jack could talk, from what I just saw.”

 

“You’re right, Laura. (Cough)... Frank’s peter did the talking.”

 

“You aren’t angry, are you?” Frank couldn’t decipher her mood and neither could I.

 

“Frank, I want you and Jack to get those two people out of my house.”

 

 

Next is Dec. 22

 

_____

 

Dec. 22

Those words were music to our ears. We sprang out of that pool and headed for the basement in this order: Frank, Jack, Laura.

 

“Jesus H. Christ!” That was Frank’s reaction, while mine was a silent revulsion.

 

Maggie had clamped two alligator clips onto Dick’s balls, which supported two chains, which supported two weights of metal, which had the skin of his nuts pulled down two and a half, maybe three inches. It was hard to tell, because Maggie was tapping the weights with her fingers to make them swing back and forth. Dick was howling in agony, while his wife repeatedly asked him if he was going to be good... if he wanted to keep his balls or if he would prefer she remove them. He said he would do anything she said... kept saying, “Yes, mistress” this and “Yes, mistress” that, but guess what? That strange man was moving his hips back and forth to make those weights swing even more, and although I wouldn’t swear to it, it looked like blood was staining the teeth of his alligator clamps.

 

To make matters even more sickening, red lines of blood cris-crossed his pecker from where she’d whipped him, but again, let me say that if such things turn people on, that’s fine by me. Frank and I were willing to stay out of it as long as Laura was in to it, but Laura had seen enough, so Frank interrupted their scene.

 

“Hey, are you two about ready to wrap this up?”

 

Of course, Dick was not allowed to answer, so Maggie did. “Oh, Frank, things are getting hot. What he needs is a big cock up his ass, just like yours. Maybe then he’ll pay attention to what I say.”

 

“I can’t do that, Maggie. It’s not my thing. In fact, none of us are enjoying this. It’s too heavy and we never discussed going in this direction. If you want to mutilate your husband I think you should take it to your house.”

 

The silence was rather intense. Maggie stood there naked with a riding crop in one hand, glaring at Frank as though he was due some of her punishment. Did she dare challenge him? In his own house? No pretend drama here. This was the real thing. I couldn’t tell what her husband thought, because all I could see were his eyes peeking from the holes of his leather hood. Besides, my eyes couldn’t get off those hideous nuts of his while the weights continued to swing, thanks to the slight movement of his hips.

 

Maggie ended her glare-down of Frank, glanced to me for a few seconds and then looked at Laura.

 

“Is this what you want?”

 

“Yes, Maggie. It’s too much.”

 

“What happened? I thought you wanted to help me with him.”

 

“I did, but you never said anything about drawing blood. I think it’s best if we break this up. I can’t have this sort of thing in my house.”

 

None of us waited for Maggie to agree or disagree. Frank and I unhooked Dick’s cuffs and stood ready in case he wanted to get belligerent. He didn’t. In fact, he collapsed to his knees in exhaustion.

 

“Get that stuff off of him, Maggie,” Frank ordered. “I’ll go get your clothes.”

 

That was in the garage. Maggie helped her husband take off the alligators, and then his leather outfit. Once opened, the musty sweat inside the leather and on Dick’s skin nearly caused Laura and I to gag. It permeated the entire room, adding more nastiness to an already ugly atmosphere.

 

Both McKenzies put on their street clothes and gathered all their bondage possessions, and just when we thought they were going to leave peacefully, good ol’ Dick had to make an ass of himself.

 

“Have a good time with your boyfriend, Frank.”

 

“Oh, I will. Have a good time with your girlfriend, Maggie.”

 

Frank’s a sharp man. His quick comeback seemed to leave both McKenzies speechless, which is easier said than done.

 

Laura was not at all pleased with the droplets of blood staining her carpet. The three of us worked frantically to remove them before they dried into a permanent ruination. Then we sprayed down the room to eradicate all remnants of Dick and Maggie McKenzie... forever.

 

I guess you could say we returned to our roots, sort of. The late September air was cool at night, and soon naked swimming would be put on hold until spring. So, that’s where we ended up. In the water is where we tried to wash away all the unpleasantries created by those other two people, and we did so without words. Our bodies did all the talking. That will be the gist of my next insertion on Dec. 27.

 

_____

 

Dec. 27

I think a good way to gauge the health of a relationship is by how well actions are synchronized when few or no words are spoken. With the troublesome McKenzie duo once and for all banished from participation, Frank, Laura and I swam freely to lessen our blood pressure, and then congregated in the same deep-end corner where Frank had received his BJ.

 

Why the thought never occurred to me I don’t know, and why it popped into my head at this moment is an even greater mystery, but I had a pretty good idea as to why Laura had rebelled against Frank earlier that evening. It was not so much anything he had done, but more what Maggie had caused both of us to do. Our incessant praise of her tits had created a female rivalry, for the tits of the other woman had been neglected, and so, when Maggie was stretched out on Frank’s board and we again started working on her while leaving Laura wondering what to do, Laura shifted the focus of activity to Dick, knowing full-well that neither Frank nor I would be interested in such a thing.

 

Fortunately, the McKenzies had gotten a bit to weird for Laura as well and she decided that they would no longer be welcomed in her home. Laura’s breasts are juicy whether stretched or not, especially when glimmering with water and the glow of distant light. This is why I began to nibble on them, and this is when it dawned on me that I had not been there for far too long. Frank also realized it. He followed my lead, as we coaxed Laura into the corner so she could spread her arms with hands outside the water on the pool deck, just as Frank had been. And here began a water-enhanced marathon of breast worship, Frank on her right tit and I on her left. The water line was just below their curves, which gave the appearance that Laura’s tits were floating. They were wet with water and made wetter with male spit. I sucked on her nipple as though it were a baby bottle, using my tongue to stimulate its ever-sharpening point. The supple skin surrounding her nipple was lavished with kisses wet and dry, as I occasionally glanced to where Frank’s mouth was making contact in similar fashion.

 

More moisture was added to the scene. Tears outlined the eyes of Laura, as she fully understood that both Frank and I realized our mistake. We were making up for lost time, and in the process bringing Laura to a heightened sense of erotic pleasures, as well as a tightened bonding with the men in her life. Frank and I made a smooth transition, as he immediately took control of the tit I abandoned when diving below. I had perfected the technique on him. Now I put it to good use on Laura, holding my breath to eat her underwater pussy. The difference this time was that I would not be forced to repeatedly dive to bring her orgasm. This was merely a tease of the tongue to further increase her juicy, pre-show production, so that when Laura was fully primed and on the brink of explosion, all I had to do was insert my hard dick and gently rub on her clittie. Frank and I again moved as though precision dancers, as he shifted to the side on my third coming up for air. And as soon as my peter was involved, Frank got behind me, wrapped his manly arms around his wife and pressed his hairy chest against my back. I was sandwiched between man-tits and woman-tits. I was kissed on the neck by man-lips and kissed on my lips by woman-lips. Laura was sent straight to heaven.

 

Frank and I saved our loads for her. She followed us when we exited the pool. She walked between us when we journeyed to the bedroom, her left hand held by my right and her right hand held by his left.

 

My gauge told me that all was well with our relationship, because we required no lighting to worship this woman. We remembered her features, where they were and which ones were especially longing for the touch of a man. Laura had two men at her disposal and no competition. She remained the focus of our attention throughout the night.

 

_____

 

Dec. 29

I should say that I’m sad to say, but must say that I’m glad to say that Saturday’s escapades were purely vanilla, except that there were three of us. Our intimate fondling and kissing of Laura certainly vanquished any doubts she had that she was our preferred female. It also made me wonder about the softness of a woman’s skin. I’m not saying that the surface of a man’s skin is unpleasant to touch, but a woman’s skin is different. Maybe the pores aren’t as big; or maybe it’s because they are more likely to use special moisturizers; but whatever, the contact of Laura’s skin to my lips seemed to soothe them as though medicated balm. This was especially true with the meat of her breasts, where Frank and I spent most of our time.

 

There were other moments when Laura was not the focal point of all praise. Frank and I got our turns, too, and mine culminated in Laura laying atop me with my penis firmly inserted to her vagina. Frank made her the meat of our sandwich by laying on top of her, crushing her breasts against my chest, while poking between her clamped-together thighs with his big cock. By the time we finally rolled out of bed Saturday afternoon, had our breakfast and prepared the pool, we were ready to try something a bit more frisky.

 

We swam, had our dinner, and gravitated to the basement under the pretense of scanning the channels for something to watch on television. But Frank’s contraption was still there just as we had left it, and Laura was the one who sprawled herself atop his board-on-sawhorses pedestal. We didn’t use restraints. There was no time or desire to mess with them. All we needed was our hands, fingers, tongues and lips, as Frank and I reinforced our fondness for this woman. Her breasts were just as beautiful as Maggie’s, whether stretched, elevated and exposed or not, because the woman to whom they belonged was far superior to that other woman. Laura was milked, first by Frank’s talented tongue and then (about 30 minutes later) by my rapidly rubbing finger, at which time her spine could take no more.

 

Next, I got my turn at playing John Harper, as Frank and Laura assaulted my stretched out tits and belly. I also went twice. Once into Laura’s mouth and once by Frank’s hand. We could always save Frank for last, because no matter how spent Laura and I might be, we could always get horny when Frank’s body was surrendered to us.

 

Just as we had, Frank grabbed onto the sawhorse with his hands to feign restraint. But unlike we had done, he didn’t keep his feet atop the board. Frank dropped his legs off either side of the board and let his feet dangle, which arched his back even more and raised his chest even higher. Frank had to be the big show-off, the strong-man, putting himself into a more tortured position than we had. We loved him for it. We loved him with a marathon of body worship combined with a total disregard for his cock. Frank was not milked like John Harper... he was denied until he could take no more. Oh, don’t get me wrong, he could have taken the denial much longer and would have been forced by us to do so, but like us, Frank got to a point where his back couldn’t take any more.

 

Remember way back when? When I told you that the reason I was brought into the Johnson mix was because Laura felt inadequate as a cock sucker? At least with a cock the size of Frank’s? Well, I fixed that. I gave her a tip. I showed her how to work on him as though his big dick were a nipple... like a baby bottle, using just his head and about one-third of the shaft from there.

 

“Like this, Laura.” I climbed onto the board and knelt between his thighs to show her, and then I made her do it, while I stood beside her mouth and his cock, coaching her until she got it right. And she did get it right. She got it so right that soon she was deep-throating him with no discomfort and no gagging. My star pupil passed her test with impressive skills, proven by the reaction of her husband when he exploded into her mouth. And I am proud to say that she drank her husband’s cum with no choking, as though his load was nothing more than a milk shake oozing from its straw.

 

And so, I guess they really didn’t need me anymore after that, but for some reason I’m still around. That reason shouldn’t be hard to figure out. If you’ve read any or all of these insertions, you should know that by this time the Johnsons and I had progressed far beyond sex. The McKenzies, with all their flaws, helped us to realize how much we admire one another and how much we desire one another.

 

Although I’ve heard him say it many times, I never fully understood what Uncle Jasper meant when he said it, but this is true for me as well. You can throw away all the chains and whips and floggers and everything else, because my biggest thrill is to be the voyeur. When Laura lays her soft-skinned body down on the mattress, and her hard-bodied husband lays atop her to fill her loins with his mammoth cock, I enjoy watching them and listening to them. His undulating muscles; her clutching-onto-his-back fingers; his manly grunts; her feminine moans; his soft chest hairs feathering her erect nipple tips; his hard-flexed belly grinding against her soft-flattened belly; his wiry pubes meshing with her wet pubes; his arched feet and toes working inside of her curled feet and toes to propel him forward and back and to connect his throbbing mushroom to her vibrating clitoris, all of this combines to give me a performance unmatched by any theatrical play, any feature film, any adult film, or any entertaining event that could be imagined. It is the purest form of love ever conceived and I am privileged to be a part of it.

 

There is nothing more to tell you regarding Jack, Frank and Laura. Our weekends together continue, and hopefully nothing will change this in 2007 or beyond. This is how we feel today. It is what we want to feel forever, and so, I’m taking it private. If something comes up of note, if we break up or if there’s interference from outsiders again, you will be told with another round of Jack’s Insertions.

 

Until then, I might join Jardonn in writing some fiction, perhaps inspired by something very real. And I will continue to be a part of Uncle Jasper’s audio recordings.

 

_____

 

Jasper Say 040815

When my head swells my world shrinks.

Reinsertion of Jack's Insertions - December Front Half

Dec. 1 I guess you could say that Dick’s fascination with his rectum kind of put a damper on things. I never shot my load into that condom... just kept fucking him until I heard Frank and Maggie make their orgasmic music. I pulled out and best I can remember, nobody bothered to get Dick off. Laura looked bored hanging by her wrists... beautiful, but bored.   Maggie was the only one that looked satisfied. After all, she had felt Frank’s heavenly penis inside her three times in less than 24 hours and I think she got her fix. She looked up at him, and as soon as he withdrew his fading peter from her overdosed vagina, she acknowledged her gratitude and made an announcement.   “Well, Frank, Laura... Jack. This has been a blast. My husband looks worn out. I know I am, so I think we will leave it with you.”   Actually, her husband looked heartbroken and dejected, but none of us were going to argue with her. Laura and myself and Frank were ready for each other, and Frank helped to move things along.   “Yeah. I think everybody’s bushed. Let me get Dick out of those stocks. Jack, you and Maggie get Laura down.”   And that was the end of our games. After the McKenzies cleared out, Frank, Laura and I spent the rest of Sunday and Monday wallowing in their bed... no more swimming... no more basement... no more under-mattress straps.   We slept together, showered together, piddled in the kitchen to bring chow back onto the bed, where we ate together. We talked and we made love... two-on-one sessions of body worship.   It was confirmed to me that Maggie had used that dildo before on her husband in their presence.   “That was kind of what you’d call the beginning of the end,” Laura explained. “Frank and I watched it for awhile, but it did nothing for us.   “Yeah, I started making love to Laura, so we wouldn’t have to watch any more of it.” Frank reached over and rubbed my belly. “That was the weekend before I busted in on you and Jasper, when I interrupted your broadcast.”   “We only got together with them once more after that, until now.” Laura was on the other side of me. They had me sandwiched with me on my back, they on their sides rubbing me with their hands. Before long, they were up on their knees hovering over me, using their hands and their mouths – both to talk and to kiss, lick and nibble.   I didn’t want to know how they’d met the McKenzies. I didn’t want to know anymore about the McKenzies, but I did finally get around to asking about Laura’s comment.   “Hey, you guys made me feel pretty good when they first crashed our pool party... when you let them know you were on my side.”   “I’m sure our snubbing them hurt their feelings,” Laura said. “But there was no excuse for calling anybody names... especially since we’d already seen Dick’s dildo trick. I couldn’t believe he had the nerve to accuse you of anything, Jack.”   "Well, me? I could understand that,” I conceded. “After all, I was sucking Frank’s cock. But calling Frank queer took a lot of guts.”   “All right, you two.” Frank’s patience had ended. “Let’s drop it. I’m sick of the McKenzies. We’ve got what we need and he’s right here.”   We did shut up, as I received a heavy dose of praise, climaxed by Laura riding my cock while Frank fed me his. I guess they do love me, just like Laura said. I know I love them. Our three-day, Labor Day weekend festival only solidified what had already started. If I’m turning your stomach with all this mush, too bad. Mr. and Ms. Johnson have made me a very happy man, and the bottom line is that its all about Frank. It doesn’t matter if he’s the top dog, barking orders and running the show, or if he’s the tortured slave, pretending to suffer while defying us like a he-man. Frank is always THE MAN, and without him I wouldn’t be there.   I’m going to limit my insertions during December to, say... three times a week. Everybody’s busy – you, me, and the Johnsons, but maybe I can give you some stimulation to get you through this hectic month. There’s plenty that has happened since that weekend and our relationship is ongoing, so I’ll save the highlights – the events I remember most – for sporadic insertions.   And yes, the McKenzies have joined us a few times, but the emphasis has been on the missus, while the mister has been considerably downgraded. It’s the only way Frank and I will accept him into our family. You’ll see. I keep no secrets.   We’ll start Tuesday, Dec. 5.

December Dec. 5 There were two nights in late September when Frank came over to my place. He was there to help us record Balance Beam, and even though the story gave us erections, Jasper and Jardonn were there, too, so we couldn't do much about it. Frank played the tortured hero; I played the antagonist; Jardonn played my assistant and Jasper was the narrator. How's that for a stretch?   For the most part, we were pleased with the results and I think Frank did the best job, although I liked him better in Germanicus Divine. In that one his was the only voice... and as you can guess I love his voice. Besides, anything from ancient Rome turns me on and visions of Frank on a stretch rack drive me crazy. And since I'm off subject, I might as well tell you that the text version of Germanicus Divine is the first story in Jardonn's paperback, I'll Never Tell. This is a shameless promotion, I know, but this is his web site and without him there would be no Jasper broadcasts and no Jack's Insertions. Why shouldn't I promote his book? We are all proud of it, and the second one about the Bishop is even better, in my opinion. It's a full-length story of dungeon torture. If all this McCutcheon/Smith family flag-waving offends you, I'm sorry... NOT.   Frank wanted me to be there for Laura's first listening session of Balance Beam, and so on a Saturday evening I visited and she fired up her computer. I clicked on the MP3's and we sat back to enjoy, just like we were listening to old time radio, except we were naked. Hmm... do you suppose people used to get naked, listen to Jack Benny and jack off? There was quite of bit of sexual innuendo to some of those broadcasts... his and many others... if you listen closely.   Laura liked what she heard. I could tell because she was juicy, and of course it was plain to see that Frank and I were proud of ourselves.   "So, dear wife, shall we try to re-create this little tale?"   "Ooh, Frankie, that would be a delightful treat."   Now, I'm sure that Laura was thinking like I was. We figured on using pillows or perhaps some sort of flat bench to substitute for the beam, so imagine our surprise when Frank took us to the basement and told us to wait there. He went into the garage and brought back his secret project. He had constructed a wooden frame very similar to an actual balance beam, but much shorter in length.   I, for one, thought he had lost his mind. "Frank, are you nuts? You'll break your friggin' back on that thing."   Laura agreed. "Honey, I think it's a bit much. Can't we just do something simpler?"   "Come on, Frank. Jardonn's story is just a fantasy. How long do you think you could take that for real? You know my cousin's brain is warped."   "We wouldn't even have time to get you off, Frank," Laura added. "You'd be safe-wording us before we could get started."   We ganged up on him pretty good, and from the look on his face, you'd think we had reached into his chest cavity and yanked out his heart. "Fine... killjoys."   He started to haul his contraption back to the garage, while Laura and I looked at each other with guilt. It should also be noted that, as scary as that thing looked, visions of him trying to take it had my dick fully charged.   "Oh, what the hell," I stopped him. "If you want to try it, we'll try it. I guess you'll need us to be your milking machine."   "No." He sat down the frame. "I've got one."     Next is Dec. 8 _____   Dec. 8 Laura and I waited for Frank to get whatever machine he had in mind from out of the garage. When he came back, the joke was on me.   “Jack, I want you to meet my milker, Maggie McKenzie.”   “Hello, Jack. I believe you’ve met my shit-for-brains husband, Dick.”   Maggie was naked. Her husband was anything but, assuming it truly was her husband. He was encased in black leather... boots, pants, top and hood and gloves. The hood had two eye holes, two nose holes and a zipper over his mouth. Around his neck was a black collar with metal eye rings all around. His wrists were handcuffed and the chain linking the cuffs was threaded through an eye hook at the back of his neck. Only one part of this man’s skin was exposed and that was his crotch, where an opening in the leather allowed his balls and cock to hang free and open. With an inspection from a safe distance, I tried to remember what those things looked like last time I’d bothered to look, and yes, I do believe the man mummified in leather was indeed Dick McKenzie.   A chain was hooked to one of the front-side eye hooks on his collar, and Maggie used this chain as a leash to lead him towards us.   “Where do you want him, Frank?” Maggie asked.   “Tie him up over there for now.” He pointed to the frame. “We’ll probably have to move him out of the way later.”   As Maggie wrapped her end of the chain around one of the support beams, Laura had a better idea. “No, wait a minute. Have her put him back in his cage, Frank. Jack’s seen him. We don’t need him. Just get him the hell out of here.”   This I had to see. I followed Maggie as she returned him to the garage, where they’d set up one of those dog kennels, about 3 feet high and 5 feet wide. It was the kind with strips of metal woven up and down, side to side, making a prison comprised of small squares. She led him to the open door and he obediently entered, then sat down with legs crossed Indian-style. It was a perfect fit. Inside there was a large plastic bowl with water, and another one empty for him to piss in, or at least that’s my assumption. Both bowls were made to be used by a dog, which apparently is what Dick McKenzie now was to her... and to us. She closed and locked the cage door, as Frank came up behind us.   “Well done, woman. Now, Jack, we will prepare our milker.”   He retrieved another miniature balance beam just like the one he’d brought into the basement.   “Where the hell did you get those things, Frank?” I was curious. “Did you make them?”   “No. I got ‘em at the hardware store. They’re heavy-duty saw horses. Haven’t you ever seen one?”   "Obviously, I have not.”   “Grab that board right there.” He pointed to one leaning against the wall... about one foot by six... and I followed him and Maggie back to the basement. She turned off the lights to leave her dog boy in darkness.   This set up was easy enough. We placed the two horses parallel and separate by about five feet in an open area of floor space. Then we set the board on top.   “Will you go quietly, or must we do the work?”   “Quietly, Frank.”   Maggie climbed up to lie prone on the board. Frank produced two sets of handcuffs, locking one to each of her wrists, the other ends of which were already shut. He had looped a chain through each one and now took the ends of those chains and wrapped them around the horse nearest Maggie’s head, clamping the chains to themselves with metal clips.   This made for an interesting view. Her arm pits were outside of the edges of the board, while her arms were pulled down just a bit and stretched beyond her head. And as you know, Maggie’s tits are quite handsome when stretched. They are teasingly handsome when elevated and stretched, so just imagine how they looked when Frank spread her legs and dropped her feet off either edge of the board. He had chains waiting for her ankles. They were wound to the inner bars of two heavily-weighted dumb bells, which he placed on the floor beneath her. He wound the free ends of each chain around each of Maggie’s ankles until the chain links were taut, and then clamped them to themselves with metal clips. Maggie would not be raising her legs very much, unless she could lift what I counted to be 120 pounds. I guess she could have done that, but not for long. She didn’t try so it didn’t matter.   “Well, I’ll be damned, Frank.” I wrapped my arm across his shoulder. “That looks just like John Harper on the Balance Beam.”   “Yeah, but it ain’t John Harper, is it?”   “Hardly.”   Now, I had no clue as to how this poor woman was going to be Frank’s milker, but I had a pretty good notion that something intriguing was about to happen to those sticking-way-up-in-the-air tits.     Next is Dec. 12   _____   Dec. 12 Which is exactly what we did. Maggie’s height was perfect, as Frank stood on one side and I the other, a slight bend of our waists bringing our mouths directly to the targets. And although there’s no denying that it was a treat to dine on those vertically protruding, perfectly rounded and divinely stretched gourds with their custom-made-for-sucking-on nipples, somehow they weren’t as satisfying to me as before. They didn’t seem as fresh and supple. They didn’t have the faint aroma or taste of chlorine. In fact, there was a bit of mustiness to them. Perhaps she had exerted too much energy getting her husband into his mummy costume; or maybe it had simply been too many hours since she had showered; but whatever it was dampened my spirits. Something else occurred that shattered the mood for both me and Frank.   “What the hell do you expect me to do?” Laura angrily questioned.   We both removed our mouths from Maggie, as Frank stood with a worried expression, one that a husband assumes when he knows he’s invited the wrath of his woman.   “Uh, how about... hmm... how about you use one of your vibrators? That ought to get things fired up.”   Laura put her hand to her mouth and yawned – not a genuine display, but mockery, which caused Frank some frustration.   “Well, ok Laura... what did you have in mind?”   “Damn, Frank. I don’t have anything in mind. This is all your idea. You tell me.”   I stood waiting for them to resolve this, thinking to myself, ‘Ooh, domestic strife! The Johnsons are having a spat... I love intrigue!’   “Ok, then, Laura, I’ll just ask Maggie what she wants. How about it Maggie? What would you like us to do with you, since you’re all stretched out here?”   “Actually, Frank, I’ve been dreaming of ways to humiliate my husband... been thinking about it ever since I first had him try on his leather suit.”   “Now, that’s a great idea.” Laura finally showed some enthusiasm. “Let’s get him out here and help Maggie beat the crap out of him.”   “Ok, fine.” Frank agreed with very little enthusiasm. “But since we went to all this trouble, is it ok with you if I get off before we cut Maggie loose?”   “Who are you asking, Frank?” Laura wanted to know.   “Anybody who gives a shit.”   Poor Frank. It was just like before. He’d gone to all this trouble to set up his saw horses and spread Maggie out, but nobody wanted to play his game, except for me.   “Hell, Frank, how about a quickie BJ while you work her over with your face?” That was my contribution.   “Whatever you do, hurry up,” Maggie suggested. “My back’s about to break in two.”   “Come on, Jack. Help me with this.” We unchained her. Obviously, the ladies had ruined Frank’s plans, ego and erection. Plus, I can tell you in advance that his mood did not improve much for quite some time. As for me, I appreciated the fact that as the swing man I could mostly remain impartial. If the women and men wanted to bicker back and forth it didn’t matter to me. There was a power struggle taking place and my only challenge was to see if I could remain neutral and horny at the same time.     Next Dec. 15   _____   Dec. 15 The ladies wasted no time in retrieving their caged prisoner. After Maggie led Dick in from the garage, she told Frank and I to get him hanging from the frame. We did this with cuffs to his wrists that hooked onto the lowest chain links that were bolted into one of the horizontal, overhead beams. His was able to stand with his leather boots on the floor and his arms spread above his head in a V shape.   If my text seems boring, it’s because I was bored. You see, this is what happens when things aren’t planned out properly... or in this case, when the plans are suddenly altered without consultation from all participants.   Maggie’s idea of fun times (and Laura went along with it) was to completely emasculate her husband, or if you ask me, dehumanize him. And I suppose I might have gotten into it had he been naked, but shit, everything was covered except for his balls and cock... and although they were fairly handsome, they weren’t nearly beautiful enough to overcome the (to me) ridiculous-looking black leather mummy costume.   I think Frank’s original plan was to lower the esteem of both McKenzies by putting Maggie through a workout of erotic tortures, while forcing her husband to helplessly watch without benefit of participation. I would have been all for that, but the women kind of took over to do their own thing, and since neither Frank nor I could get into it, we both ended up being mostly spectators, occasionally helping out with logistical assistance when asked.   So, let me summarize what they did as quicky as possible. Sorry, if you’re into this sort of thing you’ll have to find more enthusiastic descriptions elsewhere, because I can’t write what I don’t feel. Bottom line, they brutalized his cock and his balls. Maggie started by using a black, plastic riding crop, while Laura used her open hands. They slapped his nuts and whipped his pecker and he screamed and called them mistress... you know, one of the ladies would say, “You’re just a bitch, aren’t you?” And he’d say, “Yes, Mistress.” Then, they’d punish him anyway, regardless that he gave the correct answers, regardless that he was obedient. Laura eventually got her flogger and they had his dick so red it almost looked purple.   Of course, such attacks on the man’s penis never allowed it to become fully erect, and so he never was a man. That was the point. And the point was driven home when Maggie unzipped part of his costume to expose his butt. Then, they started whipping him there and on his balls and his cock while degrading him with verbal insults. About the time Maggie donned a strap-on dildo and Laura grabbed a hand-held dildo, I had seen enough.   I guess I was expecting Frank to come up with some clever way to participate, but he never did. I might have expected that Laura and/or Maggie would have used Frank and/or myself as their dildos to more or less fuck some femininity into their prisoner, but that never happened either, thank god. So, while Maggie fucked her husband and Laura flogged his dick, Frank and I drifted further and further away from the scene.   “Hey, Frank, my feet feel nasty after walking in your garage.”   “Are you saying my garage floor’s dirty?”   “Aren’t they all?”   “No.”   “Ok. Your floor is not dirty, but it’s not spotless either. Let me try this angle, Mr. I-know-you’re-not-that-dense. How about a swim? I need some freshening up.”   “And I need some fresh air.”   So, my December 15 insertion is kind of a downer, huh? Oh, well, not all relationships are perfect, and the deterioration of ours wasn’t the end of the world. You’ve got to go through the swamp to get back on dry land. That night, the water in Mr. and Mrs. Johnson’s swimming pool never felt so good.     Next is Dec. 19   _____