Connie Takes Charge Ch. 04

It all began innocently enough, as most things usually do. Jane, Connie and Arlene were enjoying a ladies night out, except they were on top of a bluff overlooking the ocean, inside the Pacific Palisades house that Hideki had purchased for his wife. Herman was there too; he rarely left Jane's side. By now he was used to the cock clamp that Connie insisted he wear whenever he was around her, and Jane readily agreed to it, even if for different reasons - he looked so neutered and frustrated; that was her rationale. But Herman was nothing if not resourceful, and he came to like the chafing and scraping that resulted whenever his bone expanded, which was frequent. After a while, the sensation of his erect penis being pressed against the metal barrier got more and more arousing, which made it chafe even more and long for relief.

It could have been a disaster, but Herman had found a way to rub and play with his penis through the metal contraption. As necessity is the mother of invention, he discovered that he could insert a feather between the narrow slit openings and tickle his taut, tingling erection until it went off. To be sure, he would have preferred the warm touch of a human hand, but the end result was the same, and he was always careful to wipe the spilled cum from the clamp so nobody would know what he had done in the bathroom. Nail cuticles worked even better than feathers, and a dull edge of a thin, tiny screwdriver that he had customized...but we digress.

The last time the ladies had gone out they were commiserating about the recent changes in their lives. Connie felt the Soapland show had peaked and was running out of steam. "You can only do the same thing so many times before it gets predictable, and boring. It's tough to come up with good storylines; shit, it's tough to come up with new faces all the time."

"Big fucking deal," Jane retorted. Her troubles were many. She was so involved in the porn side of Hideki's empire that she had little time to do what she liked best, which was make Donkey films. She wanted to get back to directing videos, and maybe even appearing in them, but most of Donkey's resources were devoted to Connie's show.

"I may be able to help you both out," Arlene had said, and here they were, a few weeks later, in Jane's living room, high on Mimosas and marijuana. Herman loved it when they got fucked up, because they were always wearing short skirts or dresses and they'd forget about decorum and care not that their panties might be exposed. It was a game for him - his eyes riveted to crossed legs and skirt hemlines - to see how long he could hold out before returning to the bathroom and the secret spot where he hid his 'utensils'.

"You guys aren't going to believe this," Arlene said, excitedly. "I lost it, I totally, fucking lost it, when I first saw this." The ladies didn't modify their conversation because the naked man-boy was hanging around; they knew it excited him. Arlene loved teasing Herman, naked and vulnerable, and Connie did too, at least when he wore the clamp. They assumed it was torture for him, and what a struggle it must be, between his perverted urges and the confines of the clamp, to remain soft, lest the device crush his little pee-pee and have him cry out in agony. He deserved nothing less, the pervert. Jane, however, was observant enough to notice the smug and satisfied grin he wore every time he returned from the bathroom.

The ladies settled back in their chairs as the big screen television came to life. "Get us some refills, bugger-boy," said Jane, "and stop looking up our dresses!" Herman sighed. He was hoping they'd be too engrossed in the porn to worry about upskirts. He already knew that Connie's were yellow, Arlene's were sheer black, and Jane...well, he picked them out himself, so he knew what she had on.

Pretty quickly though, Herman forgot all about Jane's long legs, Connie's thunder thighs, and Arlene's hand reaching down under her panties; what a fucking video they were watching!

There were two young men on the screen, naked naturally, and both were beautiful specimens: blond, lean and hungry, college-aged, and boy did they have whoppers. One guy had shoulder-length hair, parted in the middle, and looked like a stoner, surfer dude. He faced another blondie, one with short, curly hair and an angelic face that looked like it came from a Raphael painting.

"That's Tom on the left, and Jim on the right. Jim Horn. What a great porn name," Arlene cackled.

"Girl, you did your research," replied Jane.

"I think...I mean, it's business, right? They look like studs. We always need studs."

"Are they regulars?" Connie was already thinking about how she could use them.

"I don't know. I spent twenty minutes on the Internet, and I couldn't find anything else."

"Fresh meat," said Connie. "I like that."

"Herman, you listening?"

"Of course, Miss Jane."

"When this film's over, use your internet skills to check out the two dicks." Jane turned to Arlene. "Trust me," she said. "He'll know everything there is to know about them."

Jim's boned cock hardened and rose at a slight upward angle. Jane guessed it to be between ten and eleven inches. "You ought to know," Connie said, "You're the size queen."

"Said the woman who's banging Big Bill."

Arlene cleared her throat. "Can we watch the film please?" Silence ensued, as Tom and Jim began to engage in some hot and heavy homo action. "I like it better when they suck," Jane mused. "You get a better shot of their dicks, although I do like watching their facial expressions when they poke each other." Jim Horn was on his knees, fellating Tom, who had warmed up for the act by wiggling his hips and thrusting his moneymaker for the camera to savor. Tom might have been twelve inches, a foot-long, as the ladies were want to say, and it stuck straight out, parallel to the ground, with a couple of small bends along the way. "Jesus, you could hang your clothes on it," observed Jane. "Now that's a trophy cock."

Arlene stopped playing with herself. "I knew you'd like it. Now, if you excuse me, I'm going to focus," and her hand resumed its exercise. "He's a good cocksucker," she observed. "That ain't acting. He's definitely gay. What a pity."

"You mean, what a challenge, don't you?"

"We'll see," was Arlene's cryptic response.

The camera had lowered to spend a few moments gazing at Jim's penis. The lad was busy gorging himself on Tom's junk, and his unattended appendage was alternately stiffening and softening, rising and lowering.

"My god," exclaimed Connie. "Look how thick it is. It's like a redwood tree!"

"Leeny, freeze it." And she did, and the ladies, along with Herman, gaped and awed over the girth. "How the fuck does he carry that around," wondered Jane? "It must weigh a fucking ton."

They were all in agreement that the width of Jim Horn's redwood-sized shaft was its most distinguishing feature, which is saying something, when the length was double-digits. In short, Jim was a player; he was Donkey-worthy. Trophy cock and angelic face were a good combination.

In due time Tom spunked all over Jim's face. To his credit, Jim took it like a man. Herman was anxious to see what redwood-boy could do with his rod, but the cock-clamp began to feel like a prison. His erection was pressed against it in an uncomfortable manner, and Herman needed resolution, so he went to use the bathroom.

"Leeny," Jane said, with mischief in her eyes, "put that on pause. Ladies, come with me," and the three of them tiptoed to the bathroom. They listened by the door. "The pervert's beating off," Jane said.

"How?"

"I don't know how. The fucker figured out how to beat the clamp." Herman's grunts got louder, and could be heard through the door.

"Let's barge in," Arlene suggested, "catch him in the act."

Herman let out an anguished cry. "Too late," Jane announced, "The pervert's shot his load. I think this calls for a punishment."

"Leave that to me," Connie said. "I got something I've wanted to do for a long time, ever since he first looked up my skirt."

They returned to the living room, joined shortly by Herman, completely unaware that he had been busted. Arlene had resumed the video, and Jim was poking Tom, who after a bout of backdoor reaming was lying flat on his back, stroking himself off while Jim's fat dick massaged Tom's prostate.

"That boy can fuck," Jane announced. "He has a lot of confidence. I can tell."

"Yeah, I like him better than surfer boy, " replied Connie, "although he's good too. Wow," she giggled, "in and out, greased up and ready to go."

The grunting got louder, and when Jim Horn announced his imminent explosion, his love juice had considerable spray, and it drenched Tom's chest and upper body, while the latter driblets were enough to saturate Tom's hand and the penis he was tugging on.

"Wait, Leeny, back that up, I want to see that cum shot again. And slow it down."

Arlene did as asked. "Aha, I knew it. Did you see that? They came together. That's Tom juice bouncing off his neck. Not bad for a second cum." Then, after a pause, "this is like art." If anything, it made Jane more determined to get back in the game.

"I told you, he's a player." No sooner had Arlene said that than Jim proved her right, moving spryly to straddle Tom's face, adroitly manipulating his cock to full mast, and delivering a second cum-shot onto the waiting face of his partner. Two cum shots each in a relatively short time, both men facialized, backdoor poking; Jane's mind was racing. The Donkey formula was founded upon straight men going homo; why not have homo men going straight? The formula would still work. Wait, they were both homo, weren't they? Not to worry, Herman would get the low-down.

Speaking of the little bugger, Jane hadn't forgotten about his punishment. "Herman, front and center," she sternly commanded, at which point he knew the jig was up.

"Jane, remove the clamp," Connie said, smiling. "I don't want that rat-trap against my creamy, luscious thighs. Herman," she laughed, "you've always wanted to get close to my pussy, and now your going to be as close to it as you'll ever get."

Released from bondage, Herman rubbed his cock, still moist with recently spilled jizz, but his newly found freedom was short-lived. "Get over my knee," Connie ordered, and within seconds he found himself draped over Connie's luscious thighs - they were indeed luscious - and he was the victim of some serious spanking. Damn, the bitch held nothing back. Connie indeed used full force, with intent to hurt, and she was succeeding. Herman's cheeks were already turning red, and his cried were real. If there was an upside to the punishment, the feel of Connie's thighs against his bare skin was a memory he'd cherish forever. Just a touch of cellulite - enough to arouse his tiny pecker, but not too much to be a turn-off, Connie's thighs brought his most debasing instincts. That she usually wore ridiculously short skirts didn't hurt, and they were the loose fitting kind, which aided his overwhelming desire to catch a glimpse of underwear. Herman was already thinking about his next masturbation; what better way to take his mind off of the searing pain?

"Wait, you might hurt yourself," Jane said. Hurt herself, Herman wondered, what about me? Jane had gotten a hairbrush, a large hairbrush, and Connie's hand was replaced by much sterner stuff. "You little fucker," Jane said, while Connie paddled. "What the fuck am I going to do with you?"

"Okay, okay," he sniveled. "No more beating off. But I can't help it. I'm horny. You girls tease me with your short skirts. What am I supposed to do, not look? And then you make me watch porn; you knew I'd need to get off."

Connie stopped her paddling. Herman's butt was bright red with small rivulets of blood seeping out. "I guess he's had enough," she said.

"Herman," explained Jane. "You think like a fucking animal. The clamp is to get your mind off of sex...what the fuck am I saying? The clamp is goddamn punishment because we're fucking tired of your fucking horn-dog act."

Herman stood up. "Jeez, he's got a fucking boner again," said Arlene.

Jane was incredulous. "You little, fucking pervert," she sighed. "This is what I'm talking about. We're just trying to have a little girl fun. We let you perv out and hang around, and how the fuck do you show your appreciation?" Jane paused to catch her breath. "Jesus Christ, what the fuck am I gonna do with you? You're fucking lucky Hideki likes your little, fucking butthole; otherwise I'd kick your ass to the street."

Herman could relax, now that Jane mentioned Hideki. It had all been a show, he realized. Secretly, she probably loved that he had figured out a way to get the better of the cock-clamp. At the same time, it was undeniable that Hideki seemed to enjoy fucking him as much as he did his wife. And why not? His butt was cute and tight, he was trained to be submissive, and Hideki liked taking a walk on the wild side. Herman was the perfect pet. Jane didn't mind - if Hideki was happy, she was happy, and besides, it gave her a guilt-free hand to do as she pleased.

"Okay Herman, this is what I want you to do. Leeny, run that video again." Jane stood up, removed her floral patterned panties, and sat down on the couch next to Arlene, whose legs were already spread. "You might as well take yours off too, Leeny. They're probably sopping wet." Turning to Herman, she said: "It's time for you to earn your fucking salary, bugger-boy." Thus Herman found himself on his knees, his tongue licking the inside of his mistress' vagina until a shove of her knee got him a taste of Arlene's. This was more like it, he thought. Despite the occasional abuse, Herman felt privileged to be where he was - attractive women letting him into their secret world. And being part of Jane's world meant going first class, and Herman liked first class. At the moment, however, he was esctatic because they neglected to put the clamp back on, which hand quickly took advantage of.

"Tom and Jim, their asses shall be mine," announced Arlene, wistfully, yet triumphantly.

****

Jane was surprised, happily surprised, when she first made contact with a woman who lived up the street. She assumed her neighbors were all old fuddy-duddies, but then she met Marlow. She had begun her career as an actress-model, and used her assets to bag a billionaire. As wife number two, her fortune was small - damn pre-nup, she had said to Jane, but at least the geezer had left her the home in the Palisades, as well as five million dollars. It freed her from having to earn a living even if not enough to allow her the lifestyle she felt she was entitled to.

A woman less confident than Jane might have felt threatened by Marlow, who was a bombshell. Marriage had brought an end to her professional career, leaving the world with just a few bikini photo spreads, and some minor roles in low-budget films. "I never had to strip," she proudly claimed, as if a virtue, but her bikini spreads were boner-benders. Her tops always appeared to be one size too small, and the backside coverings got tinier and tinier until they became just thin, thong straps.

Herman had done his usual Internet detective work and came up empty. Marlow was as pure as the driven snow - no porn, no nudes, no nothing. There was a very brief shot of some down-blouse action in one of her movies, but that was it. But those bikini poses were incredibly suggestive and as revealing as a bikini could get. Less than ten minutes into his research and Herman couldn't restrain himself. Thirty seconds later he was reaching for the tissue paper. Only thirty seconds? By his criteria, it meant Marlow was a hall-of-fame hottie. She was mid-twenties, like Jane, had long, glorious blonde hair, again, like Jane, and her body language screamed slut, just like Jane. She wore her dresses short and tight, and was slightly more voluptuous and curvy too. Jane's legs were longer and sexier, but Marlowe's boobs were plumper.

Several days a week, around mid morning, a pickup truck would drive up Jane's winding, hilly street. A black man was driving the vehicle, and because it pulled into Marlow's driveway, Jane assumed that he was a handyman who worked on the property. Herman, naturally, was of a more devious nature, and one time he snuck over to see if he could discover anything. Living with Jane meant that nothing shocked him anymore, but Herman was flummoxed when he found Marlow having sex with the black man by the swimming pool. The thrill of the voyeur was tinged with jealousy, so it was bittersweet. Fearful of being spotted, he left quicker than he had wished, for he would have loved to have stayed and watch his current masturbation fantasy boning a big black man, who undoubtedly had a big black penis to go along with it.

Marlow looked like a player; she was too sexy and glammed up not to be, and after Herman reported his findings to her, Jane was convinced as well as intrigued, and the next time they met Jane invited her over. "You stay upstairs," she said to Herman, "and I'm warning you, if I catch you spying..."

His arguments proved fruitless, and he spent a very unhappy hour. So miffed was he, even masturbation couldn't relieve his frustration, no matter hard he tried. But his mood brightened when she mentioned to him later that they were having a party the following week and Marlowe was coming.

"What about me," he asked?

"You can be there, but your old friend comes too. I don't want you brushing against Marlow like a rabid dog and staining her mini. Your pee-pee must be constrained at all times."

"You mean I can be naked in front of her?" Herman immediately sprung a boner. Jane shook her head in mock dismay. "Is she bringing the black guy?"

"Herman, you are such a fucking perv. I told her she could bring a date."

This was turning out to be a good day after all.

The date was set for a time when Hideki would be in Los Angeles. It was a 'down and dirty' party, which meant that Connie should bring her stud-boy rather than her husband, which meant William would be there. Arlene promised a big surprise, but Jane already knew that she had made contact with Jim Horn and Tom Whatever-his-last name-was, so she was fairly certain that Arlene would have them draped over her arms, their big dicks flapping in the breeze.

And Pete was coming too, the reason being that Jane needed his health club for the video she had in mind. Herman liked Pete; sort of like a rogue uncle who got a lot of action, and who might shoot some of it Herman's way. "Pete will bring a slut, he always does," Jane said. "They're usually sadists. Want me to set you up for a humiliation session? Maybe Marlow would like to see some bitch whip your ass and rip your nuts?"

THE END

But not really the end, for a new story will pick up the thread.