By the time Carl and Doreen got home from the cock-casting at the local college, Carl could tell Doreen was mad with him. He didn’t know why. He’d only done what he’d been told and she was there the whole time and could have stepped in.

But Doreen felt envious, jealous somehow of all those girls on Carl’s penis — especially the Mandy girl, cleaning it like that, going inside the little pee hole… Doreen had to check herself. It had always been her idea to share Carl around the neighbourhood women so there was no reason for her to be jealous. She could have stopped proceedings at any moment. And yet she still burned with anger.

Carl felt the brunt of it the minute they stepped through the door. He went to go upstairs to his room but she said, curtly, ‘Oh, no you don’t, my boy…’, pulled him towards her and started to roughly undo the buttons on his white shirt, so roughly she almost tore it. When it was off and in a heap at their feet, she started at his chinos, tearing them from him. Even the delicate pouch-panties, which she always treated with such care, she yanked from him so he was naked before her.

‘Now go in there and get on the table,’ she ordered with none of her usual gentleness. ‘And lie on your back.’ Being milked lying on his back was the most humiliating position for Carl as Doreen demanded full eye contact throughout the process. When he was being milked on all fours, he could close his eyes, imagine whatever he wanted but on his back, looking at Doreen, there was no escaping from where he was and what was being done to him, as delicious as the feeling was for his penis.

But he did as he was told, went to the table and climbed on, face to the ceiling. He could hear Doreen taking off her coat and fussing around, clearly enjoying keeping Carl waiting… and it worked. His heart was beating faster than ever by the time she arrived at his side and took his soft cock roughly in her hand. It wasn’t soft for long. She knew everything about Carl’s cock by now and knew how to work it so it stiffened almost immediately. She caressed his balls, but more roughly than usual, and when she started to put her finger in his little hole, it was with none of the delicacy she usually used.

Looking her straight in the eye as she demanded, Carl knew not to let the discomfort of her finger show in his face. She took her eyes away from his and reached inside her handbag for something eventually holding up… Carl’s cock, or the replica of it. ‘Do you know what this is?’ she asked, rather redundantly.

‘Yes, Miss, it’s the mould they took of my penis…’

‘And I suppose you like the idea of every girl in that class and that ugly science teacher sitting at home gazing at your cock? Using it to put inside themselves?’ Carl did like it but he didn’t know what the right answer was and dared not get it wrong, not while Doreen had her finger in his hole. He shrugged.

‘Of course you do, Carl. You love the attention…’

That was true. Of course it was. It was strange to him. He’d never thought of himself as good-looking, even though he really was with his blonde hair and handsome, open face. And he’d only worked on his body because he was being bullied at school and wanted to feel more powerful. As for his penis, he didn’t even realise it was bigger than everyone else’s until someone in a school gym class pointed it out. Did he like that attention? Maybe a little but he started changing in the bathroom rather than have everyone look and point.

While these thoughts were going through his mind, Doreen withdrew her finger and, squeezing a little lubrication from a tube she also found in her handbag onto the replica of Carl’s cock, started to rub it against his hole. Carl panicked and she could see that panic written deliciously in his face. Yes, he’d had her tongue in his hole — and the tongues of all her friends — and he’d had various people’s fingers, but there was no way he could cope with the whole size of… his own penis.

Doreen continued to rub it against his hole, even opening him up a little to put the tip in until eventually he said, ‘Please. No…’ It was the first time he’d objected to anything Doreen had done to him. Usually he acquiesced to whatever it was she wanted to unleash upon him but this time… ‘Please. No…’

Doreen smirked. ‘Oh, you don’t like that? Interesting. Now I have something to threaten you with if ever you fail to meet my expectations, is that clear?’

‘Yes, Miss. I’m sorry if I have offended you. I had no intention…’

Doreen realised she was being unfair and softened as she looked at Carl’s beautiful face, teary around the eyes, pleading for her approval. ‘I’m sure that’s true, Carl,’ she said, kinder now, putting the replica down and returning her finger to the little hole, knowing how Carl liked that. As she gripped his penis and started working it towards ejaculation, she said, ‘But seeing as it’s been a funny day… I’d like you to do something special for me.’

‘Anything,’ gorukle escort said Carl, realising that ‘anything’ could include having the replica put in him. But no.

‘When you give me your milk, Carl, I want you to deliver it straight into my mouth. Is that clear?’

‘Yes, Madam, anything you want, Madam.’

And Doreen continued her milking of Carl, the precum making squelching sounds as she moved her hand up and down, looking Carl directly in the face as he got redder and redder.

‘My milk is ready for you, Madam,’ he said, at which she lowered her head, rested it on Carl’s taught stomach, and felt spurt after spurt of Carl’s hot sperm hit her mouth. She closed her eyes and breathed in the smell of that young spunk, some of which had hit her face and which she was trying to claw into her mouth with her tongue. As she squeezed the last droplets from him and felt the thick liquid sliding down her throat, she knew she was back in control of Carl.

…

The next morning it was like yesterday never happened. Doreen was her usual kind, gentle self as she slowly woke Carl with her hand on his balls under the covers. ‘Morning,’ she said as he opened his eyes, his cock already hard, hard before Doreen even arrived. ‘How are we this morning?’

‘I’m… erm, good,’ said Carl, rubbing his eyes as Doreen gripped his cock around the base.

‘I have some good news,’ she said, squeezing a little. ‘Do you remember Sophie and Elizabeth from the coffee morning?’ Of course he did. Two of Doreen’s friends who had come round as part of a group to milk Carl, to open him up with their fingers and to taste him. Yes, he remembered them well.

‘Well, Sophie and Elizabeth are part of a local life-drawing class… Do you know what life-drawing is, Carl?’ she asked, feeling his cock twitch and realising that he knew alright. ‘It’s when a model gets naked and people draw their body. And they would like you to be the model. Isn’t that an honour? To think they want to sit and look at your body and immortalise it in their work.’

‘Of course, Madam,’ said Carl. ‘Anything you say…’

‘So jump up, I won’t milk you this morning as we want to be fresh for the ladies but I’ll just do my little shower check to make sure you’re nice and smooth.’

Carl got up, went to the shower, turned on the water and waited for Doreen to come to the bathroom before he got in. Standing under the warm water, Doreen turned him this way and that, checking for regrowth and, finding it, took the shaving cream, pumped some into her hand and smearing it over the area above Carl’s cock, which was already almost horizontal, began to shave the stubble away. She then stretched his scrotum against his balls and, finding a few hairs, shaved them off as well. Turning him round, she got him to bend over and he soon felt foam then the touch of the razor around his hole.

When Doreen was satisfied that Carl was smooth, she put shower gel in her hands and started to rub it on his chest, his stomach, his buttocks, his thighs, his feet and, finally, his balls, his cock and his hole… The feeling of her smooth hands all over his body never failed to get Carl up-against-his-stomach hard but Doreen avoided the head of his penis, not wanting to make him lose the sperm she wanted to keep inside his balls.

‘OK, you’re done,’ she said, brightly, handing him a towel and allowing him to rub himself dry, keeping an eye on him in case he gave any extra attention to his penis. ‘Come down when you’re ready. You can have some juice but let’s leave breakfast so you look as good as possible. And, I tell you what, when you come down, just have the pouch-panties on and I’ll supervise some quick press-ups to get your body looking perfect for the ladies.’

Ten minutes later, Carl padded down the stairs in just his light pink pouch-panties, his cock and balls pressed up against the sheer fabric, his clothes folded across his arm.

‘Good boy,’ said Doreen, taking the clothes and laying them over the back of a chair. ‘Now down you get…’ Carl got into press-up position… ‘Now pump…’ And started to do his reps. He got to 50, quite easily, before Doreen said, ‘That’ll do…’ He stood up, his chest and arms burning. Doreen put out a hand and caressed first his chest, making sure to brush his nipples, at which she noticed his semi-hard cock give a little jump, then his arms. ‘You’ll do,’ she said with a smile.

After a twenty-minute taxi ride, during which Doreen had her hand proprietorially on Carl’s thigh in the back of the car, much to the taxi driver’s bemusement, they arrived at a suburban house – quite nice, quite boring — on an equally nice and boring suburban street. As Doreen was waiting for the bell to be answered, she turned to Carl, brushed a stray hair from his face and some imaginary dust from his shoulder. He looked especially beautiful today, she thought.

The door was opened by an elderly man, who immediately caught the look of fear that crossed bursa eskort bayan Carl’s face and said, ‘Don’t worry, I’ll leave you to Sophie. I’m off out,’ in a way that suggested he’d seen a lot of handsome young men arrive for whatever it was Sophie did in this house. He pointed them towards the back of the house and shouting after them — ‘Sophie! He’s here!’ — went out through the front door.

The house they saw walking through was nice but clearly in an older person’s taste while Doreen, looking at Carl’s buttocks as they moved in front of her, called over his shoulder, ‘Sophie, where do you want us?’

Sophie came to into view and held her arm open to indicate that they should come this way into a conservatory. ‘Hello, Doreen dear. How are you? And Carl! You look lovely.’ And he did. She may have tasted his anus and put her finger in and been the first of Doreen’s friends to touch Carl’s cock but even she had forgotten what a beautiful boy he was. Tall, blond, muscular, shy… Even now he was blushing scarlet.

‘Thank you, Madam,’ he managed.

‘Madam! I like that. Come through and meet the group.’

As Carl and Doreen stepped into the large conservatory, they saw four women all chatting with coffees in their hands and easels set up in a semi-circle around a sort of wooden box.

‘Ladies…’ announced Sophie, a not unattractive woman around Doreen’s age, ‘this is today’s boy.’ Carl could feel the eyes of the five women, six including Doreen, appraising him, from face to feet and back again. He then saw them look at each other, raise eyebrows, put tongues to lips, smirk.

Carl recognised one of the ladies as Elizabeth, older than Doreen and Sophie with short grey hair and badly-applied make-up. She gave him a knowing look to remind him that she had been there that morning when he had been exposed, penetrated, tasted and milked. He blushed even deeper.

‘Doreen, are you going to join us in our drawing or would you rather just watch?’ asked Sophie as Doreen drank in the looks of appreciation on the faces of these women: Sophie, Elizabeth and three others, two of similar age and another, larger woman of about 45.

‘Oh, I’m no artist,’ said Doreen with a chuckle. ‘I’ll just see how you all get on and lend a hand if one is needed. Shall I sit here?’ She indicated a floral armchair slightly to the side of the easels. Sophie indicated that she should with a sweep of her arm.

‘Now, ladies,’ she said, addressing the women, who had by now taken their positions behind their easels, ‘today we are going to be focussing on anatomy and we’re going to do a mixture of quick sketch work and more detailed work. Is that OK with everyone?’ They murmured that it was.

‘Ok, first, a two-minute sketch of Carl’s head…’

Carl could feel the attention on his face as the women darted their eyes between him and the paper in front of them. ‘Oh, he’s absolutely beautiful,’ he heard the younger, fatter woman say to Elizabeth as she looked at him and made marks on the paper in front of her.

‘Oh, just you wait and see…’ said Elizabeth, with a lascivious grin. ‘He is beautiful alright.’

The two minutes over, Sophie went around appraising the work: ‘Oh, you’ve got his eyes, Daphne… Yes, good hair… Erm, I’m not sure you quite caught his innocence in that sketch…’

Then, turning towards Carl, ‘And now, can we have your shirt off please…’

Carl, aware that this conservatory was overlooked by the surrounding houses, meaning anyone could be looking, unbuttoned his shirt, all eyes on him, dropping it to the floor, whereupon Doreen darted from her chair to pick it up and gently fold it. A light gasp went up around the room as the ladies took in the sight of Carl’s chest, his arms, the veins in his biceps prominent since the 50 press-ups, his broad shoulders and the complete hairlessness of this slab of flesh.

‘Again, just two minutes,’ said Sophie, approaching Carl. ‘And I want you to try and get the sight of these ribs here…’ she ran her finger against the side of Carl’s torso. ‘The fulness of these muscles here…’ She took Carl’s pecs in her hands and squeezed them. ‘And don’t forget to capture the nipples…’ She gave them a little pinch. ‘As you can see, they’re quite hairless so let’s see if we can capture the… flesh…’

Returning to her own easel she drank in the sight of Carl’s torso as she scratched away at a new piece of paper in front of her. Carl tried not to catch the eyes of the women looking at him but every so often he would see a smirk or a lick of a lip from the corner of his eye.

‘Time up,’ said Sophie, again circulating the room, pointing at the women’s work and then at Carl to comment on likeness.

‘And now Carl, if you would take off your trousers…’

Everyone instinctively looked down to look at the tight chinos that were about to come off, the shape of balls and a thick cock already visible in them. Carl hooked his trainers off each foot elden ödeme alan escort with the other as Doreen stepped forward and said, ‘Let me help you, dear…’ first dipping to slide off his socks and reveal beautiful bony feet then reaching for the button of his chinos, his crotch at eye-level from her position at his feet, and undoing it and then slowly drawing down the zip until the trousers slipped down his thighs to the floor.

‘Oh!’ said Daphne, the large woman. The sight of Carl’s penis and balls pressing against the sheer fabric of the pouch-panties literally took her breath away.

‘Doreen, can you explain Carl’s underwear to the group?’ said Sophie.

‘I make Carl wear these — they’re called pouch-panties — when we’re at home alone together so I can monitor his penis at all times,’ she said, proudly. ‘I can check whether he’s semi-erect or erect, in which case I may need to milk him…’ She said it as if there was nothing unusual about this and the women seemed to accept the idea of a woman in her late 60s controlling the penis of a 19-year-old boy as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

‘Now, I think the…’ she looked to Doreen.

‘Pouch-panties.’

‘Pouch-panties are a particular challenge — the way they make Carl’s penis press against his body and the way his testicles sit in them — so why don’t we take ten or fifteen minutes trying to capture them. I would say draw from here…’ She had walked towards Carl and had the side of her little finger on her flattened-out hand against just above his navel… ‘to here…’ and she moved it down to just under his balls. The contact was electric and it was all Carl could do not to let his cock react to her touch.

The ladies went back to work, looking from Carl’s crotch back to their paper and then back to his crotch. ‘Would it be OK if I took a photo on my iPad?’ said Daphne, looking at Sophie. ‘I find it easier to work from a 2D image and use the model as back up…’

‘Of course, dear,’ said Sophie, at which all of the women — Elizabeth, Daphne and the two other elderly ladies – took out phones and iPads and approached Carl to snap shots of his genitals in the silky panties. Returning to their easels, they now darted their eyes between their pictures, their paper and Carl’s penis. ‘I’m going to include that little precum stain,’ he heard one say to Sophie with a grin. Carl looked down and there was indeed a growing precum stain in the pouch-panties even though he was straining from trying not to get an erection.

The ten minutes seemed long to Carl, red-faced, still trying to catch no one’s eye, but when it was over and the ladies put their pencils and their sticks of charcoal down, Sophie walked around appraising and finally said, ‘These are excellent. Why don’t we turn our easels around so that Carl can see your work…?’

They all swung their easels in Carl’s direction. Six versions of his penis and his balls squashed into the sheer pouch-panties confronted him. In one of them his penis looked angry, in another his balls looked super-real, in a third the whole thing just looked like a bit of a jumble. Doreen got up to study the work at close hand. ‘Oh, these are lovely,’ she said. ‘I might ask to buy one for my bedroom wall.’ There was a little titter.

‘Now…’ said Sophie, drawing the attention of the room back to her, ‘with this being an anatomy lesson, we are going to do our usual practice of measuring. Who would like to be Miss Tape Measure today?’ Daphne’s hand went up the fastest and she stepped forward to take a fabric tape measure from Sophie, who was secretly hoping she would be able to measure Carl herself. She’d think of something.

‘OK, first the neck,’ said Sophie. Daphne walked towards Carl and, being rather short, reached up to place the tape measure around his neck, her breasts brushing against his stomach, her belly against the pouch panties as she stretched.

‘Sixteen and a half inches,’ she said. Sophie made a note, asking, ‘Carl, how tall are you, dear?’

‘Six-foot two, Madam,’ he replied. She noted it.

‘Chest, Daphne.’

Daphne reached the tape measure around Carl, pressing her pudgy little face into his muscular torso as she went. ‘Forty-six,’ she said as she secretly took in the body-scent of this beautiful young man.

‘Waist.’

Daphne stood back a little. She looked down and took in from close quarters the sight of his cock and balls straining against the fabric of the pouch panties. Passing the tape around his waist with as much skin-on-skin contact from her hands as she could muster, Daphne called back over her shoulder, ’33’.

‘Now, Carl, if you can manage it…’ started Sophie with a smirk at the other ladies, ‘we would like to take measurement of your penis in its soft state.’ There was a titter at the idea that Carl would not be able to maintain a soft penis when the eyes of the room — and the hands of Daphne — were on it.

‘Go ahead, Daphne,’ said Sophie. Daphne reached forward, her eyes locked on Carl’s, and undid one side of the pouch-panties, which burst open revealing what had been barely masked, Carl’s semi-erect cock and two big smooth balls.

‘I love how smooth you keep him, Doreen,’ said Elizabeth. Doreen gave a little face-scrunch of acknowledgement.