I love jerking to ir

Chapter 05: Here

The noon sun beat down on the water park parking lot, turning the asphalt into a shimmering expanse of heat. James was already at the entrance, tank top stretched across his shoulders, sunglasses pushed up into his hair, talking to a security guard like they were old college friends.

 

Isabella broke into a run for the last twenty meters. Left me behind with the beach bag, the sunscreen, the flip-flops, and the backpack with towels.

 

"James!" Her voice sounded different. Lighter. Younger.

 

He turned, easy smile spreading, and opened his arms. Isabella walked into the embrace like she belonged there. When I finally arrived, sweating, breathing hard, James didn't even glance at me.

 

The guard opened a side door. We entered through the "VIP entrance," no line, no wait. Isabella looked at James like he'd invented water.

 

"I didn't know you had connections here," Isabella said.

 

"I dated the resort owner's daughter a few years back. Lot of the same staff still work here, and Mike's an old college friend." James clapped the guard on the shoulder.

 

"Wow, quite the ladykiller, aren't you?" The irony in her tone barely concealed the flirtation underneath

 

We walked past the main pool toward the lazy river entrance. A double tube sat at the launch point, wide enough for two.

 

Isabella was already seated in front, patting the space behind her. "Come on, James. I'll steer."

 

"No, no." He grinned, that predator's grin. "I steer from behind."

 

"Why are you going together?" The question came out of me before I could realise it.

 

"It's a lazy river, not a marriage contract. Relax." Isabella said already leaning back into position, already comfortable with the arrangement.

 

I stood there with the bags cutting into my shoulders while James settled in behind her, arms reaching around to grip the sides, Isabella leaned back against him, head almost on his shoulder, and laughed at something he whispered.

 

I was directed to a single tube. Basic. Functional. Alone.

 

The current took us. I followed, always those few meters behind, watching their backs disappear around the bends. Hearing her laugh, genuine and loud, echoing off the painted concrete walls. In the shallows, I could see James's hands adjusting Isabella's position, pulling her closer. "For safety," I could hear, and she laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world.

 

At the exit, Isabella reached for his hand as she stood up. She didn't need the assistance, she can stand herself, but she took his hand anyway.

 

"Next," she said. Not a question.

 

The Tornado had a twenty-minute line snaking through the plaza. The college friend, Mike, led us through an emergency exit, metal stairs climbing to the launch platform. Isabella's eyes widened with each step, not from the height, from the access.

 

"You know everyone," she said, and it wasn't just observation. It was appreciation. Admiration.

 

"Useful skill," James said, like it was nothing. Like he hadn't engineered this moment, her reaction, the way she looked at him now.

 

At the top, Isabella peered down. The slide was steep, dark, water churning at the entrance.

 

"I don't know..." Her voice came out hesitant, but her eyes found James's with something that looked like challenge.

 

"Scared?" He smiled.

 

"A little."

 

"Hold on to me." He extended his hand. "I'll protect you."

 

She put her hand in his, let him pull her toward the double tube. Seated in front, him behind, arms around her before they even launched.

 

I stood on the platform. Watching.

 

"What about Peaboy?" Isabella asked, already settled, already smiling.

 

James didn't look at me. "He can't handle these things. Stay here, Peaboy. Hold the stuff."

 

The frustration was a physical thing, a pressure behind my sternum. I was meant to be on this vacation with her. I was meant to be the one she reached for, held onto, laughed with. Instead I stood alone holding beach bags while she descended into darkness with my high school bully, her screams of delight already echoing back up the tube before I'd even processed the abandonment.

 

They emerged at the bottom. Isabella was breathless, wet hair plastered to her face, makeup somehow still perfect. James climbed out first, extended his hand. She took it, let him pull her up, and didn't release his hand immediately.

 

"Again," she scream.

 

They went. Without asking, without warning, making their own plans while I watched from above.

 

The wave pool stretched out like an artificial ocean, mechanical waves rolling every fifteen minutes. James and Isabella waded to the deep end, where the waves br oke strongest. I stayed at the edge, water to my waist, where the waves were weakest, watching James "teach" Isabella to ride them. Hands on her waist, adjusting her stance. Her pretending not to understand, him repeating the lesson, touching more than necessary.

 

A wave came. Isabella stumbled, fell on purpose or not, and James caught her. Arms around her, she laughing, wet, against him.

 

I was so absorbed in the performance that I didn't see the next wave until it crashed over me. The sound of their laughter reached me underwater. When I surfaced, coughing, salt and chlorine burning my throat, James was pointing. Isabella covered her mouth with her hand, but her eyes were laughing.

 

"Peaboy can't swim?" James asked, voice loaded with false concern.

 

"He can," Isabella said, still laughing. "He just can't stand up."

 

They laughed together. Another wave knocked me down. This time I didn't try to get up immediately. I stayed under, listening to the muffled sound of the world above, until my lungs forced me to surface.

 

The snack bar shade brought physical relief, no emotional relief. James and Isabella sat on the wooden bench, thighs touching. They sent me to the nearby market stall.

 

"Water," Isabella said, not looking at me.

 

"Snacks," James added, half-laughing at my face.

 

I went. When I returned, carrying bottles and wrapped sandwiches, I found them like this: Isabella reclined against James's shoulder, looking at his phone, laughing at something on the screen. His arm around her, one hand holding the phone, the other resting on her waist.

 

"What are you looking at?" My voice came out louder than intended.

 

Isabella finally looked at me. "Photos. James took some on the slide and the river."

 

"Two days of photos," James said, scrolling. "The aquarium yesterday, today here. You look incredible."

 

Isabella laughed, swatted his arm. "Stop."

 

"It's true. Look at this."

 

He showed her the screen. I saw from where I stood. Isabella at the lazy river exit, looking at the camera with that smile I recognized. The smile she used to give me. Now directed at James's lens, at James, while I was out of frame, holding bags.

 

Chapter 1

 

 

Although Julian should have expected it, Miss Raven turns out to be rather unpleasant.

Her diminutive, dark appearance belies her strength of character. The vivid red lipsticked mouth constantly droops into a scowl when addressing him, though a smile when talking to Vanessa, Julian’s wife.

They are sitting in Miss Raven’s office, surrounded by photographs of cute bottoms in frilly lingerie being spanked and handsome, serious-faced hunks holding adorably cute women.

Miss Raven had been fine in the email exchanges, though perhaps a bit curt.

The Exchange Society is a place, out in the country, where cucks and hotwives can meet up with prospective Bulls. And a couple like Julian and Vanessa, who had been in the fetish for nearly two years, saw it as an exciting way forward.

Vanessa, though confessing to be nervous about the visit, is wearing her stunning white short dress, revealing her curves and lovely legs.

Now it is Julian’s turn to be nervous as his wife and the dominatrix are hotting it off famously.

“I just want to say,” Julian says, “I only found out that you’d been secretly talking to my wife when I arrived here.”

Miss Raven’s hooded eyes stare at him until he looks away. “I am speaking to your mistress. I would be grateful if you could be quiet!”

With that, she and Vanessa share a look. Miss Raven shaking her head, and Vanessa wincing with apology.

Julian feels it is wise not to protest about the secretive emails she and his wife had also been exchanging over the last few weeks. After all, it was he who had contacted the Exchange in the first place!

“As you know,” Miss Raven says, “your troublesome Hubbie here will be a sissy maid for the duration.”

Vanessa leans forward, her boobs filling her tight dress. “Oh yes.”

“And that you must at least chat to any man who approaches you?”

The wife smiles, “It all sounds a bit scary, but yes. I can always say no, can’t I. Those are the rules.”

Miss Ravens luminous red lips part in a smile. “It will be interesting to see how many times you say no.”

Julian shifts uncomfortably on his chair as the two women laugh knowingly.

The dominatrix adds, “And you know that you are committed to this agreement until Monday morning at eight a.m.”

The wife, sighs, “Yes. But I spoke to the other wives you put me in touch with, and apparently it all works out.”

She has spoken to other hotwives? Julian makes to protest but then sits back in his chair and lowers his eyes. Why wasn’t he involved?

Miss Raven taps Vanessa ’s answers into a computer.

“We never use surnames here,” Miss Raven says, “You’ve been told the rules, and I see you’ve signed the forms.”

“Forms?” Julian squeaks. “I, erm, haven't signed … what forms?”

Miss Raven rolls her eyes at Vanessa. She, in turn, shakes her head in sympathy at the dominatrix.

Vanessa smiles that oh-so-cute smile at her husband, half-closing her eyes. “Now, weren’t you told to be quiet while the adults sort out our entry?”

Miss Raven is triumphant. “Excellent. I think you will make a wonderful dom to your sissy here. Our training will bring it out of you.”
Vanessa giggles, “I don’t think I’ll ever be dominant. Not fully.”

Miss Raven softens, “Aw. You’d be amazed. Women arrive here full of uncertainty and leave ready to run a huge organisation.”

This is ridiculous. Julian stands up to his full five feet five, taller than Miss Raven but obviously shorter than Vanessa, who had insisted on wearing her three-inch heels to the exchange Society. “Now, obviously, I need to see the forms.”

Miss Raven's shimmering stare actually makes Julian take a step back. He immediately wants to apologise.

Vanessa waves her hands. “I am so sorry, Miss Raven. He can be better behaved. I promise.” She turns to her shocked husband. “Now, please be quiet while we sort this out!”

The two women wait to see if Julian will dare reply. His wide-eyed astonishment indicates he will be quiet.

“Now,” Miss Raven says, “your boy has been locked in chastity for at least three days?”

“It is five,” Vanessa says, trying to appear modest about a great achievement.

“Well done,” Miss Raven says. “See how you are coming along? Now. All his male clothing is in a suitcase in the boot of your car?”

“Yes. And as you requested, the case is locked, and only I have the key.”

Eh? Julian feels affronted. “When did you do …”

His wife puts her finger to her pretty lips. “Hush, silly boy.”

Julian no longer recognises his wife.

Holding her hands over the keyboard, Miss Raven addresses the hotwife, “Now you’ve been in the hotwife Bull game for just short of two years?”

When Vanessa nods, the short woman types and then asks, “And five lovers? And all chosen by your boy?”

Vanessa looks ruefully at her shocked Hubbie. “Yes. He doesn’t like the very masculine men. Bit scared of them, I think. So I let him make the final decision.”

“It’s not that,” Julian adds quickly. “You just wouldn’t like those horrible louts. And you should watch out for them here, too.”

Miss Raven smiles on one side of her mouth. “I think, little boy, that it is the sissy maids here who should watch out for real men at the Exchange Society.”

What? Julian is gobsmacked with alarm. Why should he watch out for the men here? He will just be a serving maid!

“Aww,” Vanessa tilts her head at her troubled husband. “Don’t worry. I’ll look after you, little one.”

Little one? She has never called him that before.

Vanessa nods. “.It said in one of the online guide forms that I need to spend at least ten minutes with any male who approaches me.”

Too scared of Miss Raven, Julian addresses his wife directly. “Online guide forms?”

“Right! I’ve had a gutful of the interruptions from the little sissy,” Miss Raven stands. “The only thing sissies need to know is what colour panties match their corsets. You will be told all else.”

Vanessa looks pained. “I am so sorry, Miss Raven. He is a bit skittish.” Then to her husband. “Behave!”

Miss Raven raises her phone. “Hello? Get Dirk and Brock to meet Julian in the Large Hall. Yes,” Miss Raven looks Julian up and down the way one might a naughty child. “He is struggling to keep his pretty little mouth shut. Requires a firm hand.”

Oh no. Julian mollifies his tone. “I, I, I, well I want to stay here with Vanessa while we …”

Slamming down the phone, Miss Raven grabs a steel-hinged collar from behind the desk. The name on the front reads Julie. Beneath it in smaller case are the words, owned by Miss Vanessa.

Before Julian can protest, she has expertly run it around Julian’s neck until it clicks home with a gut-wrenching finality. It feels cold and heavy.

Miss Raven says to Vanessa, “Don’t worry. Your boy cannot remove this. There are only three keys, and he’ll never be permitted to touch one. You keep one. One is kept in my office here. The third can be given to a Bull that you feel deserves you.”

Vanessa lowers her eyelids. “Oh my. Wouldn’t that be amazing? A real man looking after my keys.”

Miss Raven grins. “And don’t forget, the Bull can only collar you if you agree. Then you are his until he releases you. So watch out for that!  Some of the girls here find themselves agreeing to the collar when they are aroused and completely out of it. But then there is no going back unless he releases you.”

Julian’s wife closes her eyes and exhales long and hard at the thought. Her thighs close tightly together.

“Now be a good boy,” Miss Raven says to Julian, “and run along to the Large Hall. That is the one just beyond the main entrance. You wait there like the good little boy your owner, Miss Vanessa, assures me you can be, and all will be fine.”

Owner? Miss Vanessa?

With eyes like two round moons, he looks to his wife for support.

Vanessa’s features soften. “Aw. Look at you. So frightened. It will be fine. I promise. Miss Raven has been ever so helpful. Your maid training will start today. Just as you wanted.”

“But … but …”

His wife plants a finger on his trembling mouth. “Now hush, Julie. You’ve already shown me up in front of Miss Raven. I suspect the two real men will know how to keep you in check. So run along.”

It is a moment before his feet can move. Once he is past the reception, he curls up his shirt collar around the metal ring at his neck. Anything to hide the shaming object.

It is here that he sees maids in the sexy short-skirted outfits you see online. They are busy dashing here and there. Wow, they are so hot. Black dresses, lacy pinafores tied in a bow at the small of their backs. Maid’s caps. High heels.

His dick bulges in his chastity cage. He hasn’t cum since before Monday, and today is Friday.

A few tall, clearly masculine men roam around at a sedentary, confident pace. Often with giggling women in attire that shows off their boobs, arses, and legs.

The Bulls showing off their women! How primitive, Julian thinks.

He most certainly doesn’t want to meet Dirk and Brock! But once he does, he will talk his way out of this. Tell them that he and his wife have made a mistake. They need to be released from their contracts immediately.

“Jesus Christ. It isn’t, is it?” The voice is deep and bellowing. Faintly familiar.

Julian turns to see his worst nightmare. Andre from school! The beefy athlete who was always good at everything, from sports to classwork.

Dear god! Julian presses his shirt collar tight against the steel. He needs to get away from this bully who made his life such hell in school.

“Julian!”

Andre sticks out a hand for a handshake, which Julian accepts by making sure his free hand holds his shirt snug at the neck.

“Ow!” Squeals Julian. “Please let go.”

Andre laughs as loudly as an elephant. Has he no refinement?

“You haven’t changed!” The six-three, well-built Andre, in his shirt moulded around his barrel chest, adds another laugh. “Well, you must have changed to be here! I wouldn’t have put you down as a fucking stud. I tell you. Had I known you were here, I’d have said you’d be out in the back room with those dumb arsed, sissy maids. Fucking gay boys, eh?”

Julian swallows. He needs to get away from his school tormenter. “Erm, yes, they are.”

“And all these sluts. All in need of a good cock inside them and a real man to fuck the senses out of them.” He winces at Julian with curiosity. “Hey. You need at least an eight-inch cock to get in here.” Then he chuckles. “Must have grown since the days of that shrimp you used to hide in the boys' changing room at school. Remember?” His face lights up in cruel mockery while he wiggles his little finger.

Julian feels sick. “Listen, sorry, Andre. It’s just that I am meeting some people and …”

“What did we used to call you? Oh yeah! Little Shrimp!” Another bellow of a laugh, which stops with eyebrow knitted confusion. “Hang on. Shouldn’t you be at least six foot two to be in here?” he laughs. “What happened. You lie about your height?” Another laugh.

“Sorry, Andre, I must get off.”

“Julie!” A voice calls out. “Julie?”

You couldn’t mistake Dirk and Brock for anyone else. Julian had never seen them before, but these two huge, masculine guys in their suits and bow ties couldn’t be anything other than enforcers. Like the toughest of bouncers, you might find at an upmarket nightclub.

“But what a set-up, hey Julian?”

Stepping to one side, Julian puts Andre between him and the two thuggish-looking guys hollering out for him.

“Sorry?” Julian asks, pushing his shirt collar higher.

“Well, we studs can spend an entire weekend fucking any woman we want while their sissy hubbies serve us in their maids' outfits. And there’s fuck all they can do about it!” yet another bawl of ill-mannered laughter.

“yes. Yes. Isn’t it wonderful? So right that we Alpha males should have the spoils of war from those sissies.”

“Julie?” Both bouncers are looking pissed off now.

Julian has always been a bit frightened by manly guys. Dirk and Brock move into the Large Hall, call out for Julie, and then quickly return. “Julie?”

Julian’s knees shake.

“Hey, what happened to that girl you managed to pull?” Andre looks up at the lights in thought. “What’s her name? Ah yeh. Vanessa. So fucking sexy. Obviously, she went for your money, you bastard. Being rich and everything. My God, you pissed us all off. Everyone wanted to dip their dick in her!”

Dear God. Julian had to get his wife out of here before this dreadful, uncouth man made her life a misery.

“Julie!” Dirk and Brock are standing close by. Exasperated.

Poor Julian’s heart thunders away. His sweaty palms come together before him, hanging onto his short collar.

Suddenly, Andre stares at Julian’s neck. He uses his thick forefinger to pull down the shirt front. He laughs. “Hey! Julie. For fucks sake. Julie! Well, that makes sense, shrimp dick!” Punching his finger under Julian’s collar, he hoists the poor wimp onto his toes, shouting out. “Hey, guys. I’ve got her! Julie’s here! She’s just a bit shy, that’s all.”

Amongst titters and grins from the people in the Large Hall entrance, Dirk and Brock shake their heads in Julian’s direction.

“What the hell?” One says. “You deaf as well as dumb?”

Trying to swallow, though his Adam’s apple bumps against the raised collar, he squeals, “Oh no. Sorry. I thought you were talking about something else … I … I …”

One of the guys pushes his finger under Julian’s collar, replacing that of Andre. “You belong in the back room with the other sissy maids! Getting ready for your weekend of service, you dumb bitch!”

As he is dragged off to the amusement of everyone, Andre calls out, “Don’t worry about Vanessa! I’ll look after her. Oh, don’t you worry your little head about that. I’ll take real good care of her.”

 

Im a straight white man who just got engaged recently and I cannot go a day without jerking off to Interracial porn or BNWO Hypnos. And I cum ridiculously hard to it each time. I have a collection of it that’s about 800 GB of porn involving a BBC (lately it’s been BlackedDawn’s premium subscription), and it’s been put to use for the past two years. I’m nervous to tell my fiancée about my fetish because it’s super taboo, but I have bought you a BBC dildo in the past and she has noticed how I literally drip pre cum while I watch it go in and out of her… maybe she already has an idea. How should I play it guys.