It was a hot summer day and Dylan was at Mrs. Miller's house again, mowing her lawn. As usual his stepdad had sent him over after the older rich woman had called, and as usual Dylan had no say as his stepdad made him put on the old and ripped, meanwhile much too small cutoff jeans. The athletic boy blushed as his stepdad pushed him in front of a huge mirror, his hands on Dylan's shoulders, and pointed out: " See boy, you owe me your success, your hot body and all that hot sex you get! don't forget this!" As he said so, Dylans stepdad moved his hands over the boys soft skin and felt his firm bulging muscles. He took some time to pinch his son's nipples to "plump them up" he said, and Dylan moaned as usual, while he felt his dick rise. He was well trained, and reacted nicely too physical manipulation. To pain, especially.
Dylan knew Mrs.Miller had a gardener who made sure her garden was always impeccable, but she still insisted he needed to come over once in awhile to push the old rusty handmower around.
Today, as usual, she hosted a fancy tea, and several other ladies were guests, sitting around in the cool shade, sipping tea or drinks and watching him work.
Dylan perfectly knew Mrs. MIller was a member of the board of his highschool, and, being a sponsor as well, she had alot to say if necessary.
As he was done mowing , he pushed the mower into the shed. He knew that the ladies now wanted some fun , and he was here to provide the fun.
Mrs. Miller called him over.
" Dylan my boy, i must say i'm not impressed!"
She had a thin bamboo rod in her hands, just like the ones a gardener uses to stake plants, thin but very rigid. She used the rod to point at a root Dylan had forgotten to pull out in her impeccable bed of flowers. Dylan knew he could not argue with the rich lady, so he knelt down and tried to pull the root out.
In vain.
As Mrs. Miller already knew from her gardener, the root was much to strong to be pulled out like that. He planed to use a pickax to loosen the ground and make sure he cut the root in pieces before he attempted to remove it.
But Mrs. MIller just smiled malicious as Dylan grabbed the stubborn plant. She watched his muscles work as he tried what she knew was almost impossible, and as he failed, she gave him an impatient lick with the rod.
" UUrghhmmm" the sweating boy only grunted low , while he tried harder. Mrs. Miller gave him another lick with the rod, and a nice red welt appaered on the wide back of the muscular boy.
" Oh comeon, don't be such a weakling! " Mrs.Miller huffed , while her girlfriends watched full of interest. One woman walked over and suggested: " I know just the way to do it. You need to kneel over the root and pull up using the power of your legs!"
Dylan just wanted to do as suggested, as he heard a lewd comment from one of the other ladies: " I bet he would like to kneel over quite another type of root!"
He started to blush furious as the ladies started a quick chatter, comparing notes of what they had heard about him. Dylan realized there was quite a grain of truth in that sea of falsehoods, but he heard one or two facts only a guest of last weekends party would know, or maybe someone intimate with the proceedings at school.
" Is this for real? " A seemingly aggravated Mrs.Miller could be heard over the voices of her friends. " Dylan, come here immediately!"
Dylan was glad he could stop the impossible task to pull the root out of the ground without tools, but now saw a furious Mrs. Miller and some smirking women, openly looking at him as he walked over to the desk . All eyes followed the young athletic student, and the small cutoffs his stepdad made him wear did nothing to hide the gifts god had given him with open hands.
One younger woman could not control herself and openly blurted out: " This boy looks like a god damned bull !" and the other women giggled wicked.
Mrs. Miller held up an IPad and told Dylan to take a look. He already had seen the women passing it around.
Dylan frooze in shock as he saw the screen. It showed him, fully naked, doing chinups at the schools gym. The camera showed his fat dick , hard and jumping with the moves, oozing precum that already had made a wet spot on the padded mat under him.
" This is disgusting! To misuse the facilities of school, displaying yourself in such a perverted way! You should be full of shame, but since you display yourself in those silly little shorts, i know you will show no remorse!"
Dylan wanted to stutter a response, some kind of excuse, an explanation, but Mrs. Smith, another rich older neighbor, stood and made a gesture with her hand, shutting him up.
" Silence, boy, i know your kind. Spare the rod and spoil the child we said as we were young, and i bet your dad did spare the rod !" She turned around and adressed the ladies:
" I guess we need to take the matter into our own hands, this slutty boy needs a lesson!"
As Mrs. Miller lead Dylan through the back door into the huge garage of her pompous house, he knew he was doomed. Her hand in his neck felt like an iron claw as she made sure his sweaty body would not stain any of the expensive cars she and her husband collected. Her friends all knew that she was basically a selfmade millionaire, trading expensive european furniture, both antique and new, after she inherited her fathers small carpentry. He had given her his sense for the fine arts and the good craftsmanship, but she still had stopped building furniture and fired all the old craftsmen on the spot, as she took the reigns. She was cold as ice under a thin varnish of upper crust.
As Dylan passed a rack full of golf-bags, he shivered for a second, since Mr. Miller once had lead him down the same path between his beloved cars and down into his mancave, accompanied by Dylan's stepdad. As his stepdad showed interest in one of the sportscars, Mr.Miller simply had told Dylan to stand by the wall, between golfbags, and closed a buckle designed to hold a golfbag in place. The buckle had closed around Dylans throat, and the men joked that Mr. Miller should sell this device to the parents of unruly kids to show them their place.
While the men played with the cars, Dylan stood in place, sweating and unable to relax, since he needed to stand on his tiptoes to prevent the buckle from cutting his breathing.
Today Mrs. Miller just told the boy not to touch or stain anything, and lead him right through the cars and down a stair.
The architekt who designed the house knew his business quite well, and when the mancave was in use, not a single sound could be heard outside, regardless of the kind of sound. It could be a new blockbuster playing on the huge videoscreen, a heated videogame, or the gurgling screams of a boy suffering to the delight of the houses owners.
No neighbor was disturbed, a really important feature if someone was interested in the harmony of the neighborhood.
As Mrs. Miller lead her friends downstairs, a few of the women showed only a little surprise , others more, as they realized what a lavish display waited for them.
Right in the middle of the room was a huge chair, or more a throne, made of black ebony wood , with inlays of gold. " Wow whats that…hell… real gold?" One of the guests touched the chair, as she was utterly impressed.
Mrs. Miller, slipping into her business persona, explained: " The chair is made in Italy just like it would have been made originally, and just by the finests craftsmen and artists. Some say it was designed by DaVinci and for one of the most powerful men of his time, Cesare Borgia. He lived around 1500 in Italy and belonged to a rich family…his dad was a Pope"
Mrs. Jones, the typical curvy blond trophy wife, asked without thinking: " Fuck, a real pope?.. I thought they couldn’t marry? " and as her friends giggled, she said " Why.. I am right, ain't I ?"
Mrs. Miller explained some more details: " This one is a cleverly constructed piece of carbon fiber, titanium and electronics. We can deliver it in a style like this one, or just in its naked beauty, with carbon and titanium surfaces , if you like the modern touch"
She didn't elaborate the chairs price, or the reason of it, as one woman could not hold back and blurted out: " And, what is it for?"
Mrs. Miller smiled sweetly as she asked Dylan politely to take a seat. He knew precisely that it would be no good idea to resist.
He grunted in surprise as his hands , arms and legs suddenly got trapped by rigid metal bands. Looking golden but made of pure titanium they could have held Hercules in place.
Dylan had no chance, as Mrs. Miller pressed a button on the IPad she held in her hand, and with a low hum of an electric motor his legs opened a little more to give his dick and balls some more room. The steel bands adjusted automatically.
She used the I Pad in her hand and described in detail what the chair could do. She loved to scare the poor guys they tricked into the chair with a solid review of the chairs perverted features. To see them sweat was half of the fun, to hear them grunt and scream the other half.
To make them cum hard, milk them dry, was the icing on the cake.
The perverted women were sure they would experience pure ecstasy with the sexy muscle hunk they were about to play with.
" Ladies, please…lemme go…open those things …" Dylan plead in vain. Since he had been down here before , he knew no one would come to his rescue. And he was sure Mrs. Miller knew perfectly well that his mother's last business deal had cost the Millers a hefty amount of money, after his mother was a cunning stock broker, and had beaten her neighbors in the stockmarket.
Everybody knew she was not really interested in her son, and had put his stepdad in power over him since she was always traveling for business. And everbody also knew that this stepdad was a few years younger than his rich wife, a goodlooking playboy, former tennis coach and poor as a mouse before he had met her, bed her, and marry her.
Not so many knew that he had enrolled Dylan at his current school and made sure the boy learned to be good and obidient, making a nice hefty amount of money with him at the side.
And this closed the circle , so to speak, it was the main reason why Dylan was here.
Meanwhile the poor athlete struggled as he tried to open the metal bands holding him in place. His dick was still hard as steel thanks to all the drugs he had swallowed before his dad had made him come over to mow the lawn. After Mrs. Jones looked over to Mrs. Miller for permission, she knelt down between Dylan’s open legs, she smiled wide: " I never had a boy with with such a big dick before" and she carefully began to lick his extra sensitive dick head.
Dylan moaned as his dick was sucked. Mrs. Jones evidently was practising the art of fellatio for quite some time, since her current husband was the third in a row of old, rich men.
The boy soon started to plead, as the wicked blond woman teased and tormented the muscled jock. The women watching seemingly had their fun, siping drinks and exchanging lewd comments. Mrs. Jones fondled his big nuts, sucked his dick, licked just the head, and did all to make sure the sweating boy almost got crazy with lust. Every time the hunky athlete thought he would cum, she stopped again and let him grunt and moan and curse in frustration. His balls were swollen , his dick solid and veiny , as another women took over Mrs. Jones' place on her knees between the sweaty boy's open legs.
But she didn’t suck or jerk Dylan’s dick. She had a device in her hands that would close around the base of the grunting boy’s balls like a tight cock ring. Made of steel, gold , and a solid locking mechanism with a electronic lock and a hinge to open and close the ring around a dick, it tightened the blood vessels at the base of the cock to make the huge erection even more solid. Dylan’s big dick soon looked even more impressive, with veins proudly swollen.
Mrs.Miller smiled approvingly as her friend had applied the devilish device, and worked the I Pad again. The ring and the chair put together made a cleverly constructed device . The chair powered the ring cordless using induction power supply, and the operator could use that power to do certain things to the poor soul that wore that ring.
Mrs. Miller stood as she told Dylan and her friends every detail of this construction.
She also didn’t forget to mention that the cockring still worked when it was not near the chair, since it had his own battery.
Dylan wasn’t really paying attention. He was sweating hard and panted like a dog, since he was in pure panic, so Mrs. Miller took her IPad and moved a finger over a slider in an App she had programmed with the help of a technician.
Dylan grunted and then screamed, trashed and squirmed in the chair, as the ring sent electrical impulses through his nuts. In other words: He felt like someone hit him in the balls.
" Please , i told you i do all you want…please guys untie me…i'm your sexslave, i do all you want!" Dylan was right, he was the depraved women's sexslave, and he would certainly do all they wanted. Dylan screamed for help but nobody answered. Instead another women knelt between his legs again and started to tease his thick dick , without making him cum.
" Please guys…oh god please…UUUURGHMMMM"
Dylan ended his pleading in a grunting sound as a woman put tight alligator clamps to his nipples. At Mrs. Miller's command she attached a electrical device on Dylan’s nipple clamps and hooked it up to connectors in the chair.
Mrs. Miller smiled lewd as she lifted the I Pad and moved a finger. And Dylan started to scream again, while he almost came , as a woman's mouth and hands worked him over again.
Another woman worked Dylan’s nipples, standing behind him, while he got his big dick sucked . As he still not broke down or passed out from the overwhelming sensations, Mrs. Miller chuckled: " Shit girls, hes tuff, we need to push more buttons it seems!"
And she explained in detail the ingenuity of the chair. Soon Dylan's fat dick and nuts got some unexpected freedom. The seat of the chair moved, heightened, and the boy's balls hung free , dangling over a hole in the seat.
Mrs. Miller got impatient as she watched her prey in the chair. She used her I Pad again and Dylan grunted in pain as he felt a set of steel claws, grabbing his balls and dick , pulling it down.
While that happened, a mechanical probe pushed up and Dylan felt it on his ass ring. Mrs. Miller once again demonstrated the chair's hidden features, and soon Dylan realized he would get fucked by a mechanical dildo.
While the women watched, evidently getting hornier than ever, Mrs. Miller said malicious:
“I told you girls! Just trust me, we will have great fun!”
As the chair started to fuck his ass hard and fast, Dylan struggled, grunted, moaned , but in vain. He had no chance to break free, he realized he would have to wait until the women would release him.
He felt the chair tilt back, again controlled by Mrs.Millers whims and her I Pad. All he could see was a womans pussy, sitting on his face, while another sat on his hard dick. The chair had released his nuts from the vicegrip, and the horny woman took the chance and impaled herself on his solid cock, moaning low at first, but soon grunting and screaming as she rode him hard.
It took another hour to satisfy the burning lust and depraved wishes of the 6 women who had attended the teaparty. As the chair's steel clamps opened, they were all gone, only their host was still there, smiling at the excausted boy.
His sweaty body was covered in dollarbills, and Mrs. Miller pointed out that he looked just like a stripper, a cheap whore boy.
" You were not bad, sexyboy" she teased him " But don't you think you're gods gift to us women. Your nothing but a toy, and we can use you as we wish!"
She turned and left the room. Dylan moaned as he realized how sore his body felt. The women just had left him without removing the nippleclamps or retracting the dildo, so he had to slide off it and jump of the chair with a grunt, and as he removed the sharp alligator clamps and the bloodflow started again, his nipples almost made him scream out.
As he collected the bills the horny women had left behind, he found out he made 500 Bucks. Blushing he found the tight cutoffs and put them on, and as he climbed the stairs and left the garage to go home, Mrs. Miller waited for him, smiling, sitting in a comfortable deckchair.
As a last Goodbye she handed him an envelope with a few more bills and a stick.
She smiled: " Have fun with the little video. I have the full feature film, all color and 4k, with a fearly good soundtrack, just in case you do something stupid"
All he did was lower his gaze and said: " Uhm..no mam ..i mean .. thank you mam"
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