After the Coffee Morning Milking

The coffee morning had left a deep impression on Carl. It wasn't just Doreen's friends -- even though that had been humiliating, having all those older ladies just look at him and touch him and dab their fingers in his personal juices and taste them. It had been the arrival of Mr. Martin that really shook Carl.

It was one thing to be looked at and touched by women but something completely different to have a grown man look at him, appraise him, handle his penis and his balls and then put his finger inside him. Carl had never had anything inside his hole before. He'd never even thought about his hole before as Doreen was so focused on his penis and on his balls. Then to have this old man's finger touch it and then open it and to feel that finger go deep inside, touching private places that had never been touched before, was deeply embarrassing for Carl. More embarrassing even than having all the old ladies put their fingers in and smell them.

Just the mention of Mr. Martin's name would make Carl blush to the tips of his ears, something Doreen obviously picked up on straight away: she would just have to say, 'Oh, isn't that Mr. Martin going to his car?' to see Carl's beautiful penis twitch in its pouch-panties and the colour race to his face. Her favourite was, 'Oh, isn't that Mr. Martin coming over to see us?' at which Carl would take on a look of panic with a penis so hard it would make his special underwear stand out away from his body. And then say, 'Oh, no, he's just going to post a letter...' She loved tormenting her sweet young house guest like this. It was all just harmless fun.

But then, two days after the coffee morning, just as she had finished Carl's early milking and was deciding whether to have a little taste of the sperm that had landed on her hand, the doorbell rang. Carl was still on all fours on the dining room table as he was forbidden to move after a milking until Doreen gave him formal permission.

With sperm still dripping from the pink end of his penis and his balls moving on their own after an intense milking, Carl heard Doreen move towards the front door, knowing that as soon as she opened it, whoever was there -- the postman, a delivery person, anyone -- would be able to see over her shoulder, down the hall and into the dining room where his hole and balls and underneath would be clearly visible.

'Oh, hello!' he heard Doreen say, opening the door wide. 'How lovely to see you! Didn't we have fun the other day?' It could have been any of the women present at the coffee morning but when that person replied, he could hear it was in fact Mr. Martin.

'Oh a lot of fun,' he heard Mr. Martin chuckle. 'But it's not just about the fun. Remember, you're doing very important work on training that young man to be a responsive sexual being.'

'Oh, of course!' said Doreen, not wanting anyone to think she was daily humiliating and draining her handsome young house guest without there being a very important ulterior motive. 'Carl's penis is so much more receptive since I've been milking him and I do believe that his thinking has improved: I find that I can get his penis to twitch almost on command just by referring to certain things...' She paused. 'Your own name seems particularly effective...' and she giggled.

'Well, that's probably because I'm the first man who has controlled him,' said Mr. Martin, matter-of-fact-ly. 'And of course the anal training that I initiated. That always makes a big impact on a young man when you do it for the first time. Have you been keeping it up?'

'Actually, I haven't,' said Doreen, feeling a bit like she was letting Carl down. 'But why don't you come in and see what you can do.'

Carl, now blushing from his chest to his ears, could hear Doreen and Mr. Martin coming down the hall. Dropping his head, he could see them, upside down. Mr. Martin was wearing loose corduroy trousers, a shirt and tie and a tweed jacket. Even though he was only 65 -- an age which seemed ancient to young Carl -- he could have been older dressed like that. Much older.

'Ah, here he is,' he said cheerfully as he stepped into the dining room, acting as if he hadn't been able to enjoy the sight of Carl's hole and hanging balls all the time he was talking to Doreen at the door. 'Hello young man.'

'Hello Mr. Martin,' said Carl, his voice cracking. 'How are you, sir?'

'I'm just fine, boy,' said Mr. Martin, who Carl could feel was leaning in to inspect his hole. He could actually feel Mr. Martin's breath on his hole, which made his penis start to twitch and stiffen, even though it was only five minutes since Doreen had drained every last drop of sperm from his body into a cup.

'I really would encourage you to work this boy's hole daily, Doreen,' said Mr. Martin, who had put his own finger in his mouth to moisten it. He put the now sticky finger onto Carl's hole, which made Carl jump a little.

'Relax,' said Mr. Martin, 'just invite the finger into your hole, Carl.' It struck Carl as a strange thing to say but he knew what was required of him and, almost involuntarily, his hole started to twitch, which of course made his penis twitch and that secret part underneath him -- not so secret anymore -- stiffen.

'That's a good boy,' said Mr. Martin as he pushed his finger in up to the first knuckle, then the second and then all the way in. 'When you're in, you just need to massage the soft tissue inside, Doreen,' said Mr. Martin. Carl could feel Doreen watching the finger slide in and out of his hole as she nodded and made sounds of agreement. But just as Carl was starting to abandon himself to the feeling of Mr. Martin's finger abusing him, the finger slipped out... 'But I'm not here to give young Carl anal exercise,' he said with a little laugh. 'I'm here to ask if you would allow me to borrow him for a special training session I'm running at the College...'

'Borrow him?' said Doreen, looking at Carl, still on all fours, his hole and balls exposed to her and Mr. Martin as they talked.

'Yes, I have a training session with some of the teachers and I need a model to point out some things. So I thought of young Carl...'

'Well, I don't see why not,' said Doreen, 'if it's to help with the College. As long as I can come along to make sure he's alright and being looked after, of course.'

'Naturally,' said Mr. Martin. 'Shall we say tomorrow morning. I can take you in my car so if I turn up at 9.30am... And maybe leave his milking in case we want to showcase that.'

'Absolutely. We'll be ready,' said Doreen, walking Mr. Martin back down the hall to the front door. As she came back, she told Carl to hop down, which he did. Doreen couldn't help but notice his beautiful penis was standing straight up in front of him. Was that the presence of Mr. Martin or the thought of being in front of a group of teachers naked the next day? Maybe a bit of both.

The next morning, Doreen got Carl up early and, for the first time, insisted on coming into the shower room with him. 'I need to make sure you have cleaned yourself properly,' she said, 'seeing as there are going to be lots of people watching you.' Just the idea of lots of people watching Carl made his already half-hard penis twitch into full erection inside his sleeping special underwear. 'Well, that's a good start, dear,' said Doreen, smiling as she looked at the beautiful cock sticking straight up. 'But remember we're saving your sperm for the audience, so don't do anything silly.'

With that, she turned on the shower, put her hand in to make sure it was hot enough and, satisfied, turned to undo the laces at the side of Carl's special underwear. As they fell to the floor, she swooped to pick them up and gave them a little smell, a habit she'd got into to make sure that Carl was keeping clean at all times.

Carl stepped inside the shower, under the water as he saw Doreen take the soap and start to lather it up in her hands. Until today, the shower had been Carl's one private space, the one place he could touch himself and not have anyone else's attention on him. That space was now violated and soon Doreen was leaning into the shower, not worrying about getting her housecoat wet, lathering his chest and his biceps and his shoulders. 'Lift your arms, dear,' she said, ready to soap his pits, which made him squirm a little. 'Don't be silly dear. We're getting ready for an important day.'

Then she sat on the clothes stool and got him to lift his feet one by one, soaping in between his toes, while Carl tried not to react to how ticklish it felt. Then up his calves, behind his knees, his thighs... Then she took his balls in her hand and soaped them, peering at them as they were at eye-level. Then she took his penis, still hard and started to soap it going up the shaft, across the head and back down. 'Please...' stuttered Carl. 'Please be careful...'

The feeling of Doreen's hands on his hard penis, soaping it with milking strokes was making him feel like he might not be able to contain himself. Her grip was tight and each time she went over the head of his penis, he shuddered. The last thing he wanted was to displease his hostess by wasting all that sperm. He knew that his sperm belonged to her and that only she could decide what happened with it.

'Carl, I think you're getting a bit prickly. Didn't I ask you to make sure you shaved everything every day?'

'Yes, Madam,' said Carl. 'I'm sorry Madam.'

'Well, I'm not going to get angry today but pass me that razor and I'll make sure we don't show ourselves up in front of all these people.'

Carl handed her the razor and the little can of shaving foam he kept in his private shower. Doreen shook the can absent-mindedly, looking at Carl's penis and balls as if wondering where to start. With a little spurt she put some foam in the palm of her hand and started spreading it across the part of Carl's lower stomach where pubic hair would have been if he had been allowed to keep it. Then with little pecks of the razor she cleared the foam off, checking with her fingers that the skin was now smooth to the touch. Then, taking Carl's penis in her hand, she lifted it -- even though it was standing up further than 90 degrees - and stretching the skin of his scrotum started to remove the bristles on his balls.

'Now, turn round, dear,' she said, without looking at him. 'And bend forward.' Carl did as he was told. 'Now pull the cheeks of your bottom apart so that I can see what we have to do in here.' Carl, burning with shame, did as he was asked and then felt the pecking of the razor inside his cheeks, right up to his hole. 'Further, dear,' said Doreen. 'I can't get quite in there.'

Carl separated his cheeks and bent right forward till he was bent in half and felt the razor go in towards his hole. Then he felt Doreen's finger on his anus, first smearing something on it -- the foam or soap -- then opening it with her finger until he could feel her inside of him. 'Just to make sure you're clean,' she muttered from below him. Then, removing her finger, he felt something else enter him. From the feeling of her hair against his buttocks he realised... it was her tongue! He'd never even heard of people putting their tongues in other people's holes before. It was strange. But judging by the fact that his penis was now dripping, it was a strange that he liked.

Getting out of the shower, Doreen helped Carl dry himself with one of her outsize white towels. When they were finished, she crouched down in front of him, his penis and balls right in her face, to inspect her shaving handiwork. 'I think I got everything,' she said into his balls, so he could feel her breath on them. 'But this is your job, Carl. Don't make me have to do it again. And remember, your hole must be smooth from now on as well. I will be checking.'

Moving towards Carl's wardrobe, Doreen put her finger to her lips in thought. 'We need to think what you should wear today, Carl. How about a nice smart pair of trousers and a white shirt?' Carl nodded, aware that this wasn't his decision. Nothing was his decision anymore. 'And I don't think the special underwear are... appropriate for a college, so show me what else you have.'

Carl had only brought a few pairs of underwear as Doreen had told him he would be wearing the special underwear from now on but he got them out. One was a bikini brief, white; the second black Calvin Klein trunks and the third old-fashioned Y-fronts that used to be Carl's dad's.

'Well, not the trunks because no one will be able to see anything,' said Doreen. 'Try on the Y-fronts.' Carl did as he was told, pulling them up and looking down to see how they were. It felt strange not to be wearing special underwear now. The training was definitely paying off.

Doreen reached forward and ran her fingers across the semi-erect penis in the underwear then cupped the balls, then asked him to turn around at which she put both hands on his buttocks. 'They look quite nice, dear, but shall we try the others?'

Carl took the Y-fronts down, aware that his shaved little hole was right at Doreen's eye level, then pulled on the bikini briefs. 'Well those look nice from behind, dear,' said Doreen. 'Turn. Oh yes. Those are the ones!' Carl looked down. The fabric of the underwear was so fine that you could see each and every vein in his semi-erect penis clearly. You could see the swoop of his helmet, even the eye of his cock... with a little drip of precum already starting to stain the front of the briefs. Putting her finger inside the front of the briefs, Doreen swept up the droplet of precum and put it to her lips, absent-mindedly.

'Good boy. Now it's nearly time. Mr. Martin will be here any minute. Put your trousers and shirt on and I'll meet you downstairs...'