The Underground Vixens of Ballbreaker Pass - Part 4b

Into the room came another naked man, groggily stumbling between the grasping hands of two daughters. "Hey, I know that fellow," exclaimed Pete. "That's Bart Conroy, from Montezuma County."

"Yes, Pete," Celeste confirmed. "We dragged him out of that hole same as we did you. Been wrestling him ever since. He claims he's the tracker from that prison you were in."

"Right as rain, that's exactly who he is. How long has he been here?"

"Jack heard a rustling when we were giving you a bath and you were asleep." She gazed over to Jack, who was wildly spinning on the wheel, whooping and hollering on his orgasmic merry-go-round. "Jack went up there and dragged that tracker in all by himself. Jack's one hell of a man, but he's got no seed. Screws like a mad dog, but nothing comes out."

Grunts, screams and moans confirmed it, as Jack's spinning cock contracted blanks and his aged girlfriend spasmed real juice. 

"Are you happy, Maggie?" Jack chuckled as the wheel came to a halt. 

The poor thing nearly collapsed, forcing the others to rescue her in their arms. She babbled ecstatically, "Oh, my god. What a fucking man. Lordy, lordy, lordy, I love that man's pecker."

As for Jack, he posed just like Pete, puffing up his broad chest, sucking in his thick and well-sculptured belly, begging for more. "Gimme anothern, Celeste. I'll fix all of 'em good."

Pete broke into laughter, "Me, too, Celeste. Gimme anothern."

Jack got his wish, but Pete got something else. "Got to try something first, young man. This Conroy fellow's got some learning to do. Back him up there, ladies."

They pounced on the weakened man like carnivorous beasts, lifting him up with his knees bent and thighs spread wide. Conroy was tilted so that his upper torso was horizontal while the rest of him was vertical position, chest down, waist bent, and arms pulled past his head by hands holding his wrists. He was shaped like an L turned to the right. One of the females spit on her hand and rubbed her slickum onto Bart's anus, while another did the same with her spit onto Pete's hard pecker. Then, they impaled Bart Conroy onto Pete’s dick. 

Pete could not have cared less. For him, in his state of lustful craziness any hole would do, but for the owner of that hole it was a different matter. Conroy howled in ungodly pain, as female youngsters mercilessly thrust his ass onto the pole, sending Pete's ram-rodding tool past the man's rim with no regard as to Bart Conroy's comfort. There was no time for him to do anything but scream, as that fat and impaling cock was buried to the very depths of Conroy’s bowels. 

"Ok, Sarah, give Pete a whirl. Ladies, hold that ass steady."

Pete loved it. Mr. Conroy's virgin ass was just as tight as any pussy he'd ever felt and the increasing revolutions gave him all the friction he needed. Another orgasmic rocket flooded Bart's rectum, as he let out howls worthy of a bitch in heat. 

When the wheel stopped, they yanked his ass free of Pete's cock just as violently as they'd connected it, and then laid Conroy on the floor chest up with arms and legs pinned.

"Make sure that asshole stays closed," Celeste chuckled. Fists planted firmly to the sides of each butt cheek did the trick, as they kept Conroy's ass shut tight. 
Bridget stood before her mother. "I did a bad thing..."

"I know," Celeste interrupted. "We all have done bad things. I forgive you."

The elderly ladies weren't paying much attention to all of this, because they were busy taking turns on Jack's carnival ride, and as for Pete, he was feeling no pain. "Ok, Celeste. Who's next? Man? Woman? I don't care."

"I know you don't, Pete. Do you know why?"

"Can't explain it." He expanded his chest and thrust it towards her. "Wanna lick me? I feel like the horniest fella who's ever born."

She burst into laughter. "You are, Pete. You are the horniest, and the manliest man ever born, because of that gunk you swallowed. As long as that grey mud is in your belly, nothing's going to stop you from shooting one load after another. Let me show you something else, too."

Celeste stepped onto the stools, then reached up with both hands to take Pete's manly nipples between fingers and thumbs. With a violent pinch, she twisted both, clamping with all her strength. "This ought to hurt. Does it?"

"No, I don't feel much of anything there."

“How about this?” She reared back and punched him in the belly as hard as she could. Fist met muscle with a deep thud, but all Pete could do was laugh.

“Stop it, woman. That tickles.”

"That goo protects you from pain... deadens it. All you feel is your masculine sex drive. Now, feel this."

She returned to his tits, but this time her fingers lovingly squeezed and rubbed on them. 

"Holy shit! My dick just got bigger."

"No, it can't get any bigger," she chuckled, while moving forward to mount him. "It just feels that way. Like a man. That's all you can feel."

"You don't need to spin me, Celeste. Just do that nipple thing. I'll do the rest."

"Oh, we can do better than that." She felt the amazing strength of the man all pinpointed to one place: his powerful cock, fully imbedded to her crushing  vagina. "Daughters of Nehi, join us. Set Jack free. The man we need is right here."

Celeste stood clamping Pete in her magical vise while tenderly stimulating his ever-shrinking tits. Within seconds, molestation commenced. Pete arched his back, sucked in his belly and thrust forward his chest, as a plethora of tongues, lips, hands and fingers enveloped him. With the exception of those females securing Conroy, they all had a taste of Pete wherever they could find an available piece of Pete's skin. All females took their turns. All females ravaged him. All females lavished Pete Radcliffe with the praise only a man such as he deserves. And all the while, the vagina of Celeste squeezed and comforted his mighty cock inside her warm, velvety vise. 

From behind, Jack positioned the stools from his wheel so he could step up to work on Celeste. He massaged the breasts of the matriarch, delicately rubbing and pinching her hardened nipple tips. Pete's incredible tool surged to spread her vaginal walls, and she clamped her inside muscles as tight as she could to steady herself.  

"I'm ready," she moaned. "Leave him be." All tongues were removed. "Send him." 

The wheel was given a sudden spin. Pete‘s powerful pole whirled inside her, and the poor woman shuddered. "God, Jack, hold me tight. We done found us a he-man. There's nothing in the world like this. Pete Radcliffe's got the cock to beat all cocks. He's the most... incredible... oh, my god... what an amazing... man... what a... fuck... ing... god... damn... ma... ah... uh..."

Only Jack's hands clamped to her breasts kept Celeste upright. Every muscle, every nerve in her body twitched and convulsed, as Pete's magical seed jettisoned deep into her bosom - his cock's fat, powerful thickness violently corkscrewed her vibrating pussy hole. Lustful, indescribable sounds connected to some pre-historic civilization nearly crumbled the rock walls surrounding them. Pete Radcliffe and Celeste Nehi had returned to a time when Neanderthals ruled the earth. The Caveman, dominant and indestructible, wholly conquered his female tribe.  

The wheel did eventually stop and Jack tenderly removed Celeste from Pete's forever-throbbing manhood. He gently laid her on the floor, cradling the mesmerized woman in his arms. "We done good, darlin'," Jack comforted her. "Jacob's smiling down on us right now."

"And it works," Celeste gazed up at him. "Doesn't it, Jack?"

"We're about to find out just how good."

* * *

next part in a week

Farmer John, Ginny and Jasper - Part 7

I awoke to someone shaking my shoulder. Ginny, frantic, saying, Jasper, wake up.... John has escaped.

Huh? Oh, no... he wouldn't... not after five days... any ideas where he might've gone to... to, light up?

Well, slip on some shoes, Jasper... let's see if we can catch him in the act. 

Ginny led the way out the back door of their house... the Friday morning sun no more than a few inches above the horizon... I was in my tennis shoes and underwear... Ginny in tennis shoes, panties and t-shirt... through the open barn doors we ventured... to the back of the barn... into the former corn crib... through the open trap door... and down to the Crosby dungeon...

There he was... upside down... hanging from a horizontal bar bolted to wooden ceiling beam... his ankles in leather straps hooked to the bar... foam padding inside the leather straps... his legs spread wide... his arms hanging free... straight down... fingers... inches from the floor... and the only thing he had on him... was an athletic jock strap... which prevented his dick from hanging down on his belly... no, instead, bulging inside its pouch, John's cock pointed straight forward... with his nuts exposed... dangling on either side of the fabric... ha... obviously, Ginny had already caught her husband in the act... 

John goes... Jasper... this here's my ball munching configuration... so get to munching...

Although it was tempting, I did not fall for his trap... I said, hey, John Crosby, I don't know who you think you are... I take my orders from Ginny, not you... so what do you say, Ginny... about his balls? 

She goes... oh, he's got balls, that's for sure... let me tell you what he did... he crawled over the top of you... left our bed without permission... trying to sneak off somewhere... so I watched him quietly leave the room... heard him creep down the stairs... at which time I left the bedroom to follow him... watched him step into his outside boots that he keeps by the kitchen door... heard the door open and close... I peeked out the window... watched him go inside the barn... so I put on my shoes to follow him... saw him go into his workshop... where the corn crib used to be... and I rushed in just as he was about to light up a cigarette... he had an entire pack hidden inside his toolbox... 

John goes... Jasper... she broke that cigarette right in two... such a waste.

Not only that, Jasper... I grabbed the rest of the pack... dropped 'em to the floor and stomped on them...  

Good for you, Ginny... 

You should have seen him... drooping his head like he's a whipped dog... 

Well, that's exactly what he is... oughtta be ashamed of himself... 

I told him to get his ass down those stairs and suspend himself in these ankle straps... told him not to make a sound until I got back... that's when I came to get you, Jasper. 

Well, thank god you were awake, Ginny... he would have thrown away all of our hard work... can you imagine that... after all we've done for him... this is how he shows his gratitude. 

I know, Jasper... hard to believe, isn't it. 

Yes, it is, Ginny...

The good news is... we have saved him from himself, again... the bad news is... he's just too damn strong for his own good... we're going have to punish him for a long time before we can... get our message through that thick skull of his... 

John says... Well... whatever you're going to do... I wish you'd both shut the hell up and get on with it.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, would be the last words spoken by John Crosby for quite some time... because Ginny Crosby told me to go to the storage cabinet and get her duct tape... remember duct tape? I told you it would come into play, eventually... John got a wide strip stuck to his mouth... after Ginny told him to open his mouth about half way... and better yet... Ginny used an ink pen to poke a hole in the center of his duct tape gag... and into this hole she inserted a salvaged cigarette...  unlit... mangled, but still intact. 

She goes... There, mister... suck on that, you want one so bad... 

And the sad thing is... he did suck on it, grumbling underneath his duct tape for us to light it up for him... I said, Ginny... look at that... is that not pathetic?

Tragic, might be more accurate...

Yes, tragically beautiful... well, Ginny, seems to me we've got to find something for his lungs to do... take his mind off of his desires... 

Hmm... well, Jasper, why don't we kill two birds with one stone?

Ok, what did you have in mind?

Well, Jasper, his body is speaking to me, as though it's begging to be stretched.

Ah... as in, stretched on the rack? 

Not only that, I also want him to exert himself... make him fill his lungs with air, rather than smoke. 

She pointed to John's workout bench... do you remember his workout bench? Oh, yes... how he did suffer on that thing... but this time, Ginny told me to bring those two dumb bells sitting on the floor underneath his workout bench... I was more than happy to oblige her... Now, as I reached down to pick those things up... I counted... three, ten-pound plates on each side... for each dumb bell... I rolled them out... did a squat, grabbed 'em... used my legs to bring those things up... and made my way towards... hanging upside down John...

Take 'em, mister... instructed, Ginny... one at a time, 65 pounds was transferred from each of my hands, to each of John's hands... 130 pounds of gravity stretching him... from his split wide open legs down to his straight line arms and strong-ass, clutching onto dumbbell hands... ah, the muscles exploded in his chest, belly, biceps, triceps, thighs, shoulders, back, and buttocks, as Ginny and I slowly circled him like vultures, inspecting every inch of our masculine marvel... oh, yes, he was gloriously stretched, vertically... on the rack. 

Now, the fun began... Ginny knelt down in front of his face... removed the cigarette from his duct tape hole... and said, bring those to your chest... give me ten of 'em... John raised those dumbbells straight up, elbows bending toward us, pressed them onto his chest, and then slowly lowered them... and while he did this exercise, Ginny and I stripped... 

About time we got naked... whew, oh, perhaps I forgot to mention that for... whatever reason, Ginny had turned off the air conditioner in that... now stifling, underground dungeon of theirs... and even though it was still early morning, the temperature was rapidly rising...

By the time John'd reached the count of eight... his arm pits were moist... little beads of sweat had formed on his chest hairs... his belly hairs... and as he completed his first repetition of dumbbell lifts... allowing his arms to hang straight down... allowing 130 pounds to resume his stretch rack torture... John Crosby sounded like a vacuum pump, his nostrils flaring... his mouth, sucking air through that tiny hole in his duct tape.

Ginny gave him about 30 seconds of rest... no more... then she goes, give me flies, mister... twenty of 'em... our strong man lifted 130 pounds to his ear level... elbows bending out... 90 degree angles... his pectorals expanded... his belly flexed tight... every line and curve rising to the surface... he brought his dumbells up fast... let them down slow... straining every muscle... his skin starting to glisten... his voice starting to grunt on his exhales... and as John Crosby completed his 19th lift, his arms lowered, pumped to lift and lower for the final time... Ginny grabbed my hand and we knelt before him, watched up close as he raised his dumbbells, his task nearly finished... until Ginny said... hold it right there mister... he was only halfway finished with his final lift... dumbbells parallel with his ears, arms and chest locked in his struggle to keep them there... Ginny reached for his shrunken tit, told me to grab the other one... we pinched on 'em, tugged on 'em... twisted them... John's body was locked in place... his rock solid muscles... flexing... his muscle-pumped skin... drenched with sweat... his cock doing everything in its power to break out of its fabric prison... the cloth, stretched tight... separating his nuts... 

Ginny goes... Jasper, get the step ladder, climb up there behind him... give him what he wants... there were 3 steps on the ladder... I needed two... my face emerged... inside his wishbone... I opened my mouth... I've called 'em his bull nuts... I've said they were like oranges... each one of 'em is in reality two and one half inches in diameter... do you hear me? Each of John Crosby's nuts is two and one half inches filled with his manly come... fucking monsters... I engulfed the right one, caressed it with my lips... licked it with my tongue, tasted his brine... I finger pinched his left nut... tugging its skin... tugging its hairs... twisting its sweat-covered flesh... Ginny continued pinching his tits... I worshiped his nuts... while the mighty John Crosby hung there upside down... holding his dumbbells at his ears... straining every muscle... grunting, groaning... his hard cock bouncing inside its fabric prison... wiggling like a giant worm... a monstrosity... a writhing sea serpent... and as Ginny gave him permission to finish his rep... he let his arms drop... weight of the dumbbells stretching him again... his vacuum pump struggling for oxygen.

I altered my attack, munched on his left nut... pinched on his right... removed his salt, replaced it with my spit... while Ginny kept working his tits, gave him an order that caused him to whimper... 20 more flies, mister... now!

He strained to raise his arms... his muscles had not been given time to recover... they were burning... they were weak... but still, his belly exploded with power, triceps, biceps, pectorals inflating with blood, pumped to capacity... he groaned with each lift... muffled by duct tape... he sucked in air through his nostrils... their holes wide open... and as his pace became lethargic, as his muscles reached their limits of endurance, Ginny let go his tits, stood up, unleashed a furious assault of fists to his hard belly... ah, shit... and I'm right there close... looking down at his belly... her knuckles smacking against his brick wall... his sweat flying in all directions... hell, he didn't even feel those punches... he was too busy concentrating on his task... his belly flexed tight... as I scraped the skin off his nuts with my tongue... his legs spread wide open... his throbbing cock pointing forward... imprisoned by fabric... I grabbed it with my fingers... fabric separating me from him... I squeezed on his shaft... crushed him in my grip... licked on his nuts... the left one, the right one... while Ginny kept pounding on him... punching on his hard gut... and John counted for us... groaning like a man... 18... 19... 20...

John's body collapsed... dumbbells straight down, stretching him on the rack... Ginny picked up that cigarette... struck a match... lit the damn thing, sucked with her mouth to get it going... kept the smoke in her mouth... blew out the smoke before it could get inside her lungs... here, mister... smoke this... she tried to stick it in his duct tape hole... but he turned his head... here damn, you... I said smoke this... she ripped off his duct tape...  

(John) No... (heavy breathing)... get it away from me... don't want it... you can't make me... I... uh... please, don't make me... get that nasty thing away from me... I can't stand the smell of it... it's making me sick... can't breath... think I'm gonna puke... no... please.

We broke him...

Ginny and I looked at one another... grinning from ear to ear... ha... I stepped down, took the dumbbells from John's failing grip and set them on the floor... then I grabbed Ginny, hugged her... kissed her... took the cigarette away from her and carried it into the bathroom, flushed it down the toilet.

When I got back, John was still hanging... breathing heavy, filling his hard-working lungs with hot, but fresh... air... Ginny climbed the step ladder, while I wrapped my arms around John, pressed my face into his, sweat-slick belly. I lifted him up so Ginny could unhook his ankle straps... and I gently lowered him until his hands reached the floor... supported him, until he got his feet on the floor... and then, we laid him on his back... removed his ankle straps... transferred them to another place...

And now, cousins... I am going to torture you... you wanna know how? I will tell you that we are not finished with John Crosby... not by a long shot... he pissed us off... ok? That was a shitload of hard work he put us through... and we were not happy about it... we were pleased with ourselves for having helped him... but at the same time, we both felt like wailing away on him with our fists... and believe you me, we could have done just that... John was too exhausted to defend himself from anything we wanted to do... but that would have been too easy.

No, we needed something a little more dramatic... and for that part of the story... you are gonna have to wait... that's how I am going to torture you... ha... so, until next time, this is Jasper McCutcheon... good night... good wank... and sweet dreams. 

  

Farmer John, Ginny and Jasper - Part 4

Our next session saw John again on his flat bench, as John and Ginny played a game of interstellar interrogation. 

Ginny says: And so, Captain John Crosby... it has come down to this... I've chased you from the far ends of the solar system, to right here, right now... welcome to my dome of despair... I trust you are comfortable with my accommodations?

Comfort is impossible... as long as you and your... hideous face are in the room with me.

My goodness... for someone in your predicament, your attitude seems inappropriate... look at you... chained and helpless... your entire body is at my mercy... and did you notice how I've elevated your chest, your belly... and your manhood... making them a bit more accessible? 

The only thing I've noticed is that... I can't decide which is worse... your unbearable appearance... your gagging breath... or your nostril burning odor.  

Fine, Captain... go ahead and throw your insults... it won't be long now... soon, you'll be begging me to stop torturing you... then you'll sing a different tune... you will tell me the secret ingredient... or I will crush it out of you... but either way... I will have it... and then I,  Geneva Falatia will rule the galaxy... you and all other inferior males will bow and grovel before me... are you ready to begin? 

If that's what it takes to shut you up... then yes... get on with it, woman. 

Captain Crosby... prepare to be milked... and with that, she sat down on his rubber band wrapped and still hard cock... rammed it straight up into her pussy hole she did... 

Oh, my god... what are you doing to me? 

You will know soon enough, Captain... you, man slave... (she pointed to me)... fetch the sphere of suffering... 

She pointed to a large ball in the middle of John's workout equipment... it was a medicine ball, and upon lifting it I guessed it to be about 25 pounds. 

Ginny... or uh, Geneva Falatia goes... this is your last chance Captain... talk now, save yourself... 

Uh... never... 

Man slave, drop it...

I did... Huagh... from about waist level... right where Geneva pointed... Captain Crosby's third and as of yet untested point of interest... his stretched, sunken, 100 percent vulnerable belly... and when that medicine ball crashed into his muscle with a deep thud... all the come from his previous orgasm came squishing out in all directions... splattering me, splattering Geneva, splattering the Captain. 

Give it to him again... higher this time... 

From my belly to his... ugh... again... ugh. (repeat)

And all the time I's doing this... Geneva Falatia rode up and down her man's hard, thick, penetrating cock... oh yes, my friends... this time our tortured hero was heading for an orgasm any man would be proud to experience... 

Are you ready to talk? 

Uhh... no... never... 

(me) Oh, our Captain is one hell of an actor... you should have seen him straining against his ropes... puffing up his chest... flexing his belly muscles... daring me to drop that ball on him again... while his wifey crushed the hell out of his fat, juicy pecker.  

Let him have it... from your chest...

Ugh... higher... ugh... are you going to talk? 

(Man sounds)... again... higher... ugh... ugh... 

Talk now, Crosby... no man can take this... 

She was riding on him a mile a minute... slamming herself down onto his pelvic bone... telling me to go higher... ugh... higher... ugh... until that ball was coming down on him from above my head... ugh... ugh... oh, my god... etc... orgasm.. 

She wasn't finished... and he didn't argue... nobody said the safe word to end it... she goes... man slave... sit on his chest... facing me... 

I tossed the ball to the floor... did what she said... while she leaned forward, planted her hands onto his belly for leverage, and put her lips to me... she continued fucking herself with his cock, while skull fucking me inside her mouth... 

Ha... After watching that performance... and remembering everything I'd seen and heard during that performance... well, cousins... Uncle Jasper fired his load into her mouth big time... and in no time... and no sooner had she swallowed everything I had to give her... and spit out my cock... Geneva Falatia let out a scream to awaken the universe... she orgasmed big time... and in no time. 

Now, after we untangled, Ginny and I stood there looking down at John, and I expected he'd be saying the word to end all this, but he didn't... he laid right there looking back at us, waiting and wondering what other atrocities awaited him... Ginny rolled her eyes, and then we both shook our heads in amazement... and admiration... for our tortured hero... ha... we couldn't help ourselves... we both dropped to our knees and worshiped him... kissing on him, hand rubbing him... on his chest and belly and face... telling him he was our hero... our muscled up, strong assed man god... hell, it's true... he outlasted us... John Crosby wore us out... stayed right there ready for more... finally, when we'd had our fill of him... Ginny said it... Carolina... and we untied his ropes... cut the rubber band from his very healthy cock, and helped him sit up. 

After John got his spine limbered up, we all got dressed, left their little underground dungeon beneath the barn and headed for the house... it was about 4 pm... we showered, separately, and then Ginny started dinner... the rest of the evening was pure vanilla... in fact, I might as well warn you... it'd be a day or two before we got wound up enough to do any more of that heavy shit... but hell, there are other ways for two men and one woman to pleasure themselves without ropes and benches and rubber band and medicine ball and rubbing alcohol. 

Part 5 in a week

Farmer John, Ginny and Jasper - Part 3

If you want to listen to the audio for which these scripts were written, go to Jardonn's Erotic Tales.com and find story titled Air Tight under the Swinging With Marrieds banner. 

Part 3:

I left Mr. & Mrs. Crosby as they were, headed for the bathroom medicine cabinet... and much to my delight... I found what I was looking for... 

Ha... I knelt down by John’s nuts... they were swollen... huge... looked like two fists put together... their sensitive skin was stretched tight... filled with blood... filled with come... ready to explode... and I was about to light his fuse... from my bottle... to my fingers... to John’s nuts... isopropyl alcohol... ah, yes... so cool, so refreshing... for the first few seconds... then it starts to burn... and as I added one layer after another... painting his already sensitive nuts with my evil liquid... John’s tortured balls were set on fire... he moaned like a wounded animal... he arched his back... thrust his cock into the air... and I moved back next to his chest... rejoined Ginny to help her suck on his tits... while I tipped the bottle... saturated my finger... coated his nuts with another layer of hot sauce... and in between my tit sucking... I motivated him...

Come on, John... you tough ass son of a bitch... fire that load you got built up in there... you fucking he-man... nobody can defeat you... you pumped up muscle man... come on, shoot it... you super-stud, you... show us what a man can do... there ain’t no man in the world like you, John... you strong ass son of a bitch... no torture’s gonna break you... you’re our hero, John... you hear me... you are the ultimate male animal... nobody’s as strong as you are... nobody can break you down... show ‘em, John... spit in their eye with you come... show ‘em what a man like you can do... show ‘em what a man is... John... 

Ah, Jasper... Ah, Ginny... god I love you... oh, my god... (sounds of spew)...

And so... John Crosby proved that yes, indeed, a man truly can get off without anything at all touching the head of his dick... but as you can well imagine... even though John’s stomach and belly were saturated with his come... the entire episode left him unfulfilled... his poor cock still needed for something to touch it... 

His loving wife was the first to speak... she asked her husband if he wanted a cigarette... ha, he said no... I’d rather get off at least one more time... and she asked her husband if would prefer a pussy to perform this task... or a mouth... John said... um... give me a Jasper BJ, then give me a Ginny fuck.  

Ladies and gentlemen... I am proud to announce, that John Crosby stayed right there on his torture bench... to receive both of his requests... god damn... what kind of man is he? I think if I refer back to all those things I was telling him... motivating him to shoot his first load... hell, every word of it is true... I couldn’t take being stretched out on a bench like that for more than an hour... John Crosby was on that bench for at several hours... and gave us three orgasms on top of it... holy fucking christ... 

You think he wasn’t rewarded for the performance he gave us? Ginny and I went to the stand up closet... grabbed stacks of bath towels and spread ‘em all over the mattress... we untied John, helped him get up... laid him belly down on that mattress... and saturated him with baby oil... gave him a rub down to beat all rub downs... from his toes to the scalp of his head... of course, John was asleep in about 30 seconds... but that didn’t stop us... eventually we toweled off his back side, rolled him over, and did his front side... John slept like a baby through the whole thing, while Ginny and I stayed right there with him... 

When we were finished rubbing on him, we didn’t even clean him off... we just laid down on either side of him, and we slept just that way... John laying on his back... his left arm wrapped around Ginny... his right arm wrapped around me... 

Farmer John, our protector, our strong man... our hero... 
Now, the key to all of this is that for the next four days, Ginny and I kept John so busy he didn’t have time to think about going after one of his many packs of cigarettes which he had hidden all around the complex... 

Yes, we got him through that rough period... that first week of hell... kept his mind and his body occupied... and that, my friends is worthy of several episodes, which will show up here from time to time... until the entire story is told... 

* * *

Part 4 in a week

Farmer John, Ginny and Jasper - Part 2

If you want to hear the audio play for which this text was written, go to Jardonn's Erotic Tales.com and look under the Swinging With Marrieds banner for story called Air Tight.  

Part 2: 

We weren’t in any hurry. Ginny likes it slow... at least for the first fifteen minutes or so... then I can always feel her velvety muscles start to squeeze on me... harder and harder... every time I take my mushroom in there to clip her clittie. Oh, yeah... that’s when she starts crushing me... And do you wanna know how we both got off... of course you do... me laying on top of her... smothering her... penetrating her... Ginny and I looked at John... while he looked at us... and whether he meant to or not... John performed for us... flexing his muscles... straining against his ropes of bondage... groaning, growling... filling his lungs to capacity... raising up that big old chest of his... tightening those hard-ass belly muscles of his... and oh, yeah... John’s fat, hard pecker was bouncing all over his belly... flinging pre-come every which way... oh, yeah... that’s how Ginny and I got off... just about the same time, too... 

Now, John certainly never got a break... but Ginny and I did... hell, we had to have our come down... didn’t we? She stayed on her back, while I laid beside her, resting on my elbow, facing John... who continued to watch us... he saw me hand-rub her belly... and her tits... watched me use my lips on those same places, every now and then... that’s how Ginny and I took our little break, while John continued to suffer on his torture bench. 

John’s dick seemed to calm down a little bit after Ginny and I were done. She asked him if he needed to piss... he said that he did... so she got him one of those hospital urine bottles... stuck his cock in there and let him go... After she dumped his piss and flushed the toilet, Ginny came back and sat right down on John’s chest with her legs straddling his torture bench. She goes... how do you feel now, hot shot? Still want a smoke?  

Uh... hell yes I want a smoke. 

Well, what we need to do is crush out all that brown shit, so your lungs can go back to pink... Jasper, sit on his belly... I did... Ginny faced John... I faced John’s dick... and we both bounced up and down on him. We’d stand up... then we’d fall down... gravity and our full weight crushing him... never at the same time... soon as Ginny’d lift off his chest, I’d plop down onto his belly... soon as I’d stand up, she’d come crashing down... and while Ginny and I were crushing the air outta him, she asked me a question I’d never considered before...

She goes... Jasper, do you think it’s possible for a man to get off without anything touching his penis for stimulation? 

I don’t know... I’ve never seen it done... I suppose it is possible if he has some other body part that’s super sensitive. 

Oh, believe me... he does... let’s do a little research... want to? 

Yes, ma’am... whatever you say... Both of us got off of him... and Ginny went into the bathroom, returning with a rubber band... standard, uh, newspaper type... eighth of an inch wide, and about three inches long... Here, Jasper you do it... Ginny gave me very specific instructions... she goes... put it around his dick, take it down under his balls, now, I’ll hold his cock straight up, then you twist that rubber band, double it, and snap it onto the base of his shaft. 

Oops... I was a little bit clumsy with my double twist... ripped out a few his pubic hairs... but I did manage to keep the single strap of the rubber band beneath his balls, while I got the double strap wound tightly around the base of his cock... 

Oh, me... Oh, my... John instantly filled with blood... not just his dick, no, those bull-sized nuts of his swelled to an even bigger size... their skin stretched tight... immediately turned a dark red... and, not only that... the tension of the rubber band forced his hard dick to hang in mid-air, hovering about one inch above his belly... 

Now, I can’t tell you how long our session of research on John’s body lasted, but it must have been at least an hour, maybe two... when you got a strong man like that all tied up and at your disposal... you tend to lose track of time... Ginny’s idea was for us to start at his feet, and then work our way along the length of his body, until we found out which techniques on which body parts brought him the most pleasure. 

And how could we tell? Simple... we gauged his excitement by the length of time between his involuntary clinches... when his scrotum would tighten up... cause his dick to rise even higher above his belly... stand at attention... the longer it stood at attention... and the frequency with which it did so... that’s what told us we were making him feel pretty damned good. 

On his feet, we started by using our hands, Ginny took his left foot, I got the right... we rubbed on ‘em with our fingers... with the palms of our hands... we pinched the skin between each of his toes... then we used our nails on the soles of his feet... next, we started using our mouths... then our tongues... then our teeth... and based upon our research, Ginny and I came to the conclusion that John likes the feel of fingernails lightly scraping the length of his soles, because when we did this, not only did he arch back his toes for us to do so... his scrotum held that dick of his up for nearly 15 seconds at a time before letting it go...

We didn’t get much action from working on his legs... but he did seem to enjoy it when we grabbed a few hairs in our fingers and tugged on ‘em... specially on his thick, muscular calves... 

Needless to say, we didn’t do anything with his genitals... and we had to be very careful not to touch any part of his penis when we were working on his belly... but it was very clear that on this hard-muscled, fur-covered masterpiece... John likes it wet... with spit... so we drooled on him... sliming him up with our hands... darkening those hairs... manipulating those muscles...

Ginny dribbled her saliva into his stretched belly button... filled it up to the rim... and then I took my finger... rubbed it all around in there... pressed down on the skin of his belly button knot... and we watched his cock spring into the air like it was charged with electricity... standing there at 30 degrees for about 30 seconds... until I took my finger out.  

Now, John was a very cooperative lab rat... he never complained... stayed mostly quiet other than his heavy breathing and an occasional groan... but that all changed when we got to his nipples... hell, it was no mystery to me... nor to Ginny either... I already had a nickname for them... his two little triggers... something I discovered the first time I hooked up with him... long before Ginny even knew that John and I were carrying on... no, our first time together is a story unto itself... one I likely will never tell, because neither John nor I care to risk spoiling it... those memories are for John, and for me... no one else. 

The sensation of our fingers and thumbs lightly pinching his nipples... twisting his glorious little knobs... transformed John... whereas before John was content to lay there... all stretched out... absorbing and basking in our praise of him... now, John truly did begin to suffer... he writhed in unbridled lust... and when we  progressed from using our fingers to using our mouths... sucking on his nipples like they were baby bottles... John Crosby was truly tortured... nearly driven insane... needing and wanting an orgasm that could not come... never mind that he was stretched across that bench... his back nearly broken in two... never mind that he’d been that way for several hours... John thrust his chest into the air... feeding us his nipples, demanding that we suck on them... begging us to finish him... 

(John:) Ah, god damn, not that... anything but that... ah, I can’t take it... ah... don’t do this to me... not my tits... ah, one of you gotta get me off... come on just touch me one time... I’ll shoot a load to the next county... please... why do you wanna torture me  this way... 

It really was tragic... that poor man... he wanted to get off in the worst way... but he couldn’t... you can’t get any friction from air... and that’s all John’s cock and balls had access to... air... he needed just one little push, so he could finish himself... and I knew exactly what might do the trick... 


Part 3 in a week

Farmer John, Ginny and Jasper - Part 1

Jasper would like to serialize in text what he's told in audio, even though this text was written for audio. This is called Air Tight and is under the Schwangin' With Marrieds banner at the Jardonn's Erotic Tales web site. On the blog I'll simply use names of the three-way participants. 

Part 1

You might remember that last year I spent part of my vacation with the Crosby’s... almost a full week... on the farm... in the summer... planned to coincide with their daughter’s absence. She was at some sort of recreational camp one hundred miles away. 

Upon my arrival... early afternoon... Ginny wasted no time... greeting me on the front porch... asking me if I wanted anything to eat, which I did not... and taking me directly to the barn... through the barn... to the back... to the old corn crib... now John’s work shop... where the trap door that would lead us underground was open and waiting... I went first, and down below, something else was also waiting. 

John was on his flat workout bench... you know, the weight lifting kind... he was face up... ropes on his wrists... his arms spread wide beyond his head and down towards the floor... his ankles also in ropes... heels on the floor... and legs also spread wide... that poor man didn’t have a stitch of clothes on him...

Now, normally, regardless of John’s situation... he will greet me with a very enthusiastic,  hello Jasper... and a big old bear hug... if he’s able to do so... but this time... John looked at me without saying a word... and if I didn’t know better... which I did not... I’d say he was pissed off about something... he glared at me, then at Ginny... he was breathing hard... and growling ever so slightly every time he exhaled... 

Now, I’d seen John tied up before... and even though he is a good actor... I can always tell that it’s just part of the game... besides, we do have a safe word... by now you should know what it is... (CAROLINA!)

This time John seemed a little different... like he was in some very real pain. 

I turned to his loving wife... I said, hell, Ginny, how long has he been stretched out like this?

She goes... before noon, I guess. 

You're telling me he’s been tied up here an hour or better? 

Yeah, that’s about right. 

What did he do to deserve such punishment?

She goes, it began yesterday... when he decided that he was going to give up cigarettes... since then he’s been taking his frustrations out on me... and I am sick of it. So, I put him on the torture bench... this way I don’t have to be around him if I don’t wanna be.  

Well, how long do you think he can take being stretched out like that... with his chest sticking up in the air... and his backbone arched like a slice of cantaloupe? 

Oh, don’t worry about him, Jasper... he’s strong as an ox... I could leave him here all day if I wanted to... all night for that matter... 

Well, whatever you think... if that’s what it takes to keep him off your case, then I’m all for it. So, what are we gonna do? 

I don’t know what you think, but I’d like a screw. 

Ha... well, Ginny, I’m always up for that. Let’s go.  Leave him here to grumble to himself. 

No. I thought we’d do it on this mattress right here... make him watch. 

Oh, ok. Hell, doesn’t matter to me where we do it. Let’s just do it. 

And finally, as Ginny and I undressed ourselves, John added his two cents... 

God damn you... get me off this thing. 

Ginny said... John Crosby... you’re not going anywhere... and if you don’t keep your mouth shut... I will shut it for you... I do believe there’s some duct tape upstairs in your shop... are you going to make me go get it? 

(John)Aw, shit... the hell with you, then. 

Ha... and that was the end of that discussion... John’s torture bench was strategically placed beside the mattress, where all he had to do was turn his head to watch me boink his wife. Ginny laid her soft, healthy skinned body, nourished by clean country air, onto the center of the mattress... and I covered her with my hard, working on the loading docks body... clamping my lips onto hers... as we tied our tongues together... and my chest smashed down on her titties... and my fully engorged cock rubbed back and forth all around the portal to her treasure... and just as I’s about to slide on in there... that god damn man on his torture bench interrupted us again. 

Jasper... be a pal... there’s a pack of cigarettes in my truck... go get ‘em... just give me one... that’s all I need... just one smoke... one puff... help me out here, buddy.  

Ah, shit, John... are you fucking crazy? You know damned good and well that if I give you one you’re gonna be right back where you started... Believe me, I’ve been where you are... six years ago... and day two is pure hell... you cannot have just one, John... not ever again...  

My suggestion to you is this... fill your lungs to capacity with air... take deep breaths every time you inhale... it is the only thing you can do to alleviate your pain... and don’t say another word to me about it, because even though I haven’t had one for six years, just talking about it makes my lungs want one... even though they would not like it if they had it... but after one, then there’d be another... and they would like that one ... and the third and the fourth and six years of effort would be thrown out the window, so shut the hell up. 

John took my suggestion... filled his big old chest with air... he pushed that air out... flattening his already stretched belly... there was just enough play in his ropes so he could strain his legs, lift his heels a couple of inches off the floor... he flexed his arms, bringing his hands just a little bit closer to his head... making his massive chest expand and rise even higher... his muscles exploded with power... oh, he was suffering... on his bench of torture... suffering from two hours of being stretched... suffering from the unholy curve in his spine... suffering from his nicotine withdrawal... and suffering from watching me boink his wife.

(next part, next week) 

JJ Said 083011

As the tenth blow pulverized the man's belly, Queen Miscreantia and her entourage of six female attendants and four male guards descended the stairs. Balstok ordered all torture stopped as he and his men stood in deference to her.

She looked and listened. She saw Davidius horrendously stretched and heard the groaning and gasping of a tortured man. Circling the slab to inspect the heaving chest and belly of her prisoner, her gloriously defiant victim with his powerful muscles flexed to capacity, their skin covering bathed in manly sweat from his heroic efforts of resistance, the queen reached down with finger and scooped a sample of his liquid from out of his navel. She licked her finger. She tasted the man. Tasted his suffering, tasted his incredible strength, and she fought the temptation to admire Davidius, to pity him, to fling herself atop his racked body and comfort him, beg him to give in, plead with him to tell his story true or false just so he would suffer no more.

That, however, would defeat her purpose. After all, the man whose whereabouts she needed to know fully intended to kill her. The man stretched before her would do the same if given the chance, and so with a return to reality, a suppression of the tingling between her legs, and a renewed purpose to extract necessary information, the queen composed herself and reassumed her superiority.

"I finally heard screaming, Balstok. Has he talked?"

"No, your majesty."

"Well, ask him again."

In this story, Davidius suffers first the tortures of pain, and then tortures of the painfully erotic. The book is electronic. The author-read audio is free for the listening. Links to all can be found on my book page at Jardonn's Erotic Tales.

JJ Say 081311

Sorry for my absence the past few days. Took a little vacation time from webbing. Maybe this will make it up to you. A snippet from the next chapter of my ongoing serial, Gender Bent & Heaven Sent.

First story is called On the Y, and chapters 1 & 2 are posted at the Jardonn site. Here's a bit from upcoming Chapter 3:

As the four stepped aside and let me evaluate my situation, I strained my neck and raised my head. Peered over my elevated chest and down my sunken belly. My pecker rested dormant atop my nuts, my nuts precariously close to the edge of the square where my thighs split apart. With each ankle strapped to a plank, my legs laid flat. Three feet of air separated my heels, with the soles of my feet nearly vertical and inches away from the ends of the boards.

Looking right, I got my reflected image, a full-bodied side view ten feet away in the mirrored glass. My chest rose high into the air. My abdomen flat, dropping like a cliff from sternum to pelvis. "Damn!" I thought. "Is that really me?" I tugged on my chains, flexed my muscles, confirmed the mirrored image was indeed mine. "Holy crap! Those fly's and bench presses really get results."

Too bad Stanky had to interrupt my train of thought. He appeared on my left as Burt and the masks exited the room.

“Where are they going?” I wondered.

“To freshen up a bit. Bathroom break. Whatever.”

“Good for them.”

Standing near my middle, Stanky's belt buckle hovered just above the table, his hideous gut inches from my left flank. He rested his hands on my belly, keeping his one index finger in the air, the smarmy asshole.

"So, Mr. Higgins, how do you like my little bondage table?"

"What's to like?"

"I'm quite proud of it. Did you see the hinges beneath your buttocks?"

"No," I snorted with frustration. "Or hell, maybe I did. Who cares? I was kind of busy at the time."

"Well, you will see all the amenities soon enough, unless you have something you'd like to tell me."

"Look, Stanky, I already told you. I don't know what the hell you're talking about. You've got the wrong guy. Don't you get it?"

"No, I don't get it, but you will. Apparently you enjoy pain, but it saddens me to think about it. Since I abhor violence, I won't ask Burt what he plans on doing with you."

"Wish I could get my hands around your fat throat," I snarled at him, my arms straining against my chains. "I'd show you some real violence."

"You are in no position to make threats, Mr. Higgins," his palms lightly pressed my belly, his dry, rubbery skin copping a feel of my flattened mid-section. "Your best play would be to give me the code before you get hurt." Rhythmic thuds of boot heels on metal floor signaled Burt's return. "Ah, there you are," Stanky greeted his henchman. "It looks as though Mr. Higgins will need further convincing."

"So I figured," growled the hairy beast, as he locked his fingers together and bent them back, cracking his knuckles.

The masked goons entered and Stanky stepped aside. "Well, he's all yours. Have fun!" and with that, Stanky exited the room.