Lost. Part 2 free porn video

Lost Part 2 Archibald Young As he had finally drifted off into a tipsy sleep in Victor's arms, his mouth slimy with Victor's semen, Paul had felt delighted- he had become, in one stupendous night of sex, a slave to his young, feminine desire for older men, temporarily satiated but deliciously happy. At first, he slept deeply, caressed by satin sheets and soft furs, and his young mind was filled with semi-formed erotic dreams of flirting, kissing, masturbation, fellatio and sodomy with Victor and other older, unknown men. But early in the morning his sleep became restless. Horror began to invade his dreams. Slavering monsters screamed at him and chased him through mysterious rooms, and into the darkness outside. His stepmother appeared, naked in a fur coat. She opened the fur and beckoned him lasciviously towards her breasts which were oozing milk, but as he approached, disgusted and excited, her body turned into a lizard's and her face contorted as she started screaming and spitting at him, and he ran away. He ran into another house, where his stepsisters were naked, masturbating each other on a bed, and, excited again, he went to join them, sickened to find he wanted to fuck them too. They and turned on him, screaming violently, their nails red, clawing at him- again he was fleeing. Other burly male relatives he recognised forced him into the night, where he wandered, lost, terrified by wild phantoms that appeared from dark bushes, snarling and rushing at him- he was running, running. Half-awake in a delirium, he felt sick; the same thoughts went round and round in his head as these scenes repeated themselves, again and again. Suddenly he woke, dazzled by sunlight. For a moment he thought he was back in his bed, relieved that all those horrors were just dreams. Then he realised that he was not in his own bed but in the scented satin sheets of a stranger's. The memory of what had happened the night before crashed into his still turbulent consciousness, and the strong smell of perfume filled him instantly with disgust The nauseating images of his family from the dreams were now replaced by real, vivid and sickening memories of his depravity the previous evening. Try as he could, there was no avoiding what he had done. His anus ached from Victor's penis. His lips were crusted with Victor's dried semen. Heart thumping wildly, he was appalled by what he had done- what he had become. He opened his eyes, feeling dizzy and nauseous. There was a large mirror on the ceiling, and he was horrified to see his reflection; sprawled naked on the tousled satin of the empty bed, a red fox fur bedspread half on the floor. He saw his face covered in smudged makeup, lipstick smeared all round his mouth, which was also covered by a white, dry crust. He was still wearing jet earrings and the jet necklace. Shocked, Paul knew he was going to be sick. There was a door to a huge, gold-encrusted bathroom ajar on one side of the room. He jumped out of bed and ran there, and leant across the basin, retching painfully before finally vomiting. After a while he felt physically better. He splashed water onto his face and washed everything off- the dried semen, the lipstick, the eye shadow and the mascara. He pulled off the earrings and took off the necklace. He had to get away! He peed, and gingerly wiped his anus clean with toilet paper. He quickly used a brush to untangle his hair. He checked his appearance in the vast gilt mirror- he looked his old self, but he still felt unwell and nauseous. He went back into the bedroom to escape. On the mantelpiece over the fireplace was ticking a large golden clock; it said 8.30. On the other side of the room were large French windows through which the sunshine was streaming. No clothing was visible apart from the white fox fur coat, hanging on a bedpost, and next to the bed were the high heeled shoes. A wave of nausea spread over him as he remembered coming to Victor dressed just in these; he turned away until it subsided. He tried looking in the mirrored wardrobes for some clothes- maybe even Victor's- that he could steal to make his escape. As he did so he was careful not to look at his reflection, instinctively avoiding his naked image. All of them seemed to be locked shut, even though there was no keyhole. Then he thought he would make his way back to the room where Victor had taken him when he first came to the house. Although naked, he thought he could run through the house to get his clothes, and hope that Victor or anyone else would not catch him. But the heavy door to the bedroom was also firmly locked. Paul went towards the open French windows and looked out over a sunlit expanse of stone flagging and, beyond a stone balustrade, a huge secluded garden. A chilly breeze was blowing, despite the sun. Sitting at a table a few yards away, on a large, cushion-covered garden sofa was Victor, in a silky-looking dressing gown and leather slippers, drinking coffee, smoking a cigar and looking out over the grass to the trees beyond. Paul's heart was thumping with terror. He could not get past Victor without being seen, and the thought of being entirely naked in front of the man who had abused him all night made him feel sick again. But Paul had no choice but to confront Victor. He went to the bed and put on the high heeled shoes and the fur coat again, wrapping it around him. His cheeks were burning with shame. He walked to the French windows, took a deep breath, and stepped out to click across the flagging to Victor's seat. He stood in front of the table, holding the fur coat shut with both hands. "Hello, Paul, good morning," said Victor, putting down the coffee cup and cigar, and standing up. "Victor, I feel ill. I want to go now. Why have you locked me in?" Paul's voice was tremulous with fear. His body was shaking. "Ah, Paul, of course you can go! Don't worry-you were not locked in- it's the servants who are locked out! We'll get your clothes and get you back to your family straight away. But would you like something to eat first? You're shaking- you may have low blood sugar. You'll feel better with something inside you." He pointed to some croissants and jam on a plate. And it was true; Paul did feel very hungry. "Sit down for minute and have some coffee," said Victor. He pointed to the velvet-covered sofa next to where he had been. Still shaking with fear, and the cold air on his head and lower legs below the warm coat, Paul acquiesced, and sat down at the far end of the sofa. "Help yourself," Victor said, as he also sat down. Victor poured a coffee, added sugar and cream without asking, and passed it to him. It was not too hot, and Paul drank it quickly. Paul had to let go of the coat to cut open the croissant and spread it with jam, but the fur was large enough not to open up very much. Although Victor was turned towards him, Paul kept his face averted as he ate, keeping his eyes on the table in front of him. He felt mortified under the older man's gaze, naked under a woman's fur coat and high heels obvious. Victor was silent while Paul ate, and drank the coffee. After Paul's second croissant the man handed Paul a napkin, with which the boy wiped his mouth. "Are you feeling a bit better?" he asked. Paul just nodded, still not looking at him. "Good. Listen, Paul, we need to talk about what happened last night," said Victor. Paul immediately started to rise from the seat. "I don't want to talk about it!" said Paul, his voice urgent and scared. "I just want to go!" Victor reached across and put his left hand on Paul's thigh, grasping it gently through the soft fur. He moved his right hand round onto Paul's right shoulder and gripped it firmly, holding the boy back down next to him. "No!" he commanded his voice steely. "Sit down and listen to me!" "Let me go!" said Paul and started struggling against the man's grasp. With both hands he tried to pull Victor's hands away, but they tightened like vices as he writhed. "Paul, listen," said the man, holding the boy firmly as he struggled against him, and moving closer so he was pushing his body against Paul in the seat, his weight forcing him back and down, "Don't you see, I can't let you go like this! We have to talk!" "No, no, let me go!" pleaded Paul, squirming. "Calm down, Paul. I am not letting go until you calm down," said Victor. Paul fell silent, grunting with effort as he tried to free himself, eyes tight shut. He felt frightened, angry and helpless in the man's strong grip. But something was happening at the same time- Paul's young body, ignoring his disgust and fear, was responding to every sensation available to it. It was registering the contrast between the cold air on his face and legs and the warmth inside the coat, the soft fox fur caressing his cheek as his head turned this way and that, the slippery smoothness of the sealskin as his naked skin moved against it, Victor's firm grip on his arm and his shoulder and the pressure of the man's body against his writhing form. Paul's penis was ignoring everything about his predicament apart from these delicious sensations, and, rubbing against the fur, it was becoming tumescent. Even his anus, sore as it was, was tingling. And then, as he struggled, the fur coat opened and his growing erection pushed out unseen, framed by the silver fur, betraying the boy's true feelings about being there, swathed in scented furs and held down by this man, this man who had so comprehensively seduced him the previous night. For Paul's young body did not want to get up and leave Victor's side. His smooth body did not want to go. His slim body did not want to get back into his clothes and return to his stepmother. His beautiful body yearned to stay forever with this man, to live with him in his luxurious mansion, to dress up endlessly in gorgeous silken gowns or transparent negligees, wrapped in the most expensive, soft furs, and, most of all, to have sex with Victor. As Paul felt the hot sensations radiating from his erection as it pushed into the soft fur, he felt terribly betrayed. If anything, his fury grew. But his body was not to be denied it's primaeval joy. Try as he might, Paul could not prevent his writhing attempts to escape changing gradually into sinuous pushing up and down, so that his penis was rubbing against the furs pressed against his body by the man's weight. Every second that passed of his physical struggle saw it transformed into a flagrantly sexual movement, and every second that passed his mental resolve dripped away from him as wave upon wave of pleasure rose in his young body. Although his eyes were still closed, he turned towards the older man, his resistance collapsed, and he let out a tremulous moan of despair. Tears started rolling down his cheeks, and he started sobbing quietly. It was no use. Paul finally knew that would never now be a normal man, free of these unnatural urges, that he was irrevocably queer, irrevocably drawn to sex with rich and powerful men, irrevocably drawn to being perfumed and pampered, a sissy. "Paul, darling, don't cry," murmured Victor, pulling Paul's shoulder round towards him, drawing the boy towards him. As he did so, he lowered his face to Paul's, and gently started kissing and licking the tears from the cheeks of the beautiful boy. Paul became still, and almost stopped breathing with the shock of the older man's tenderness. He had never known such a feeling of being loved and wanted. Paul's breathing became deeper, and he opened his eyes and looked straight into Victor's as the man was kissing his cheek. He was now enslaved forever. "I'm sorry," he whimpered, "please, Victor, touch me." And, yielding completely to his own urgent lust, he caught Victor's hand and pulled it into his open fur coat and onto his urgent erection. "Don't apologise, darling," murmured Victor, smiling into Paul's eyes as he started gently masturbating him. Victor's left hand was no longer needed to pull Paul towards him, because the boy was now melting into his embrace, moving sensuously in the embrace of the silky sealskin lining of the coat. So Victor's hand ran up the fur of his sleeve to the thick fox collar and started to move it against Paul's cheek. Paul was now himself stroking the fur of his coat with one hand, whilst the other was sliding down Victor's silk dressing gown towards the man's groin, slipping under the silk and once again touching the man's hardening penis. Paul started to masturbate Victor too. So there they were, the suave, older man and the pretty, innocent boy face-to-face on the garden sofa in the chilly morning, both now half out of their clothes, each masturbating the other with one hand and caressing each other's now half-naked bodies with the other, Victor's under the soft sealskin of Paul's huge fox fur coat, and Paul's under the silk of Victor's dressing gown. Paul was doomed, and he knew it. And loved it. The two penises became more and more erect under the hands of the other, and both the older man and the young boy began to breathe more heavily, their faces inches from each other, staring into each other's eyes. Paul could smell the coffee on Victor's breath. He couldn't help it, but he was the first to break the gaze, close his eyes, and lean forward with his young mouth, moist and ready, and kiss Victor. And then Victor kissed him back, and their tongues were wrapped around each other, first in Victor's mouth and then in Paul's, and each was now holding the other's head, so their mouths were gorgeously and wetly mashed together. With eyes closed, Paul was bathed in exquisite sensations from the tips of his toes in the high-heeled shoes past his wet mouth glued to the man's to the soft hair on his head held by Victor's firm hand, but most enthrallingly from his penis being masturbated skilfully by the older man, and of course the soft caress of the furs on his flesh. He was approaching a crescendo of sexual delight, and judging by the man's movement and breathing, never mind the hardness of his erection in Paul's hand, so was Victor. Paul opened his eyes briefly as his orgasm approached. He wanted to see his lover, his seducer, his ravisher when it came. Victor's eyes were still open, boring into his as the mutual masturbatory kiss went on and on. Then, just behind Victor's head, he saw a door in the house open, and someone came out onto the path towards where they were entwined. Paul started, yanking himself off Victor's mouth. "Someone's coming!" he gasped. Victor turned to look, then turned back to Paul. "It's Emil, Paul. He works for me. Don't be alarmed." Paul was blushing with shame and confusion as the man approached, his penis shrinking in Victor's hand. He quickly stopped masturbating Victor and pulled the fox fur coat closed over his body. He then tried to take Victor's hand off his penis, but the man held it there, in his groin, under the sealskin lining of the coat, so Paul had to hold the coat closed on top of it. His heart was thumping with fear. The man was dressed in striped trousers, a white shirt and bow tie, and a grey jacket. His shoes glistened in the sun. He was in his forties, with a shaven head. Paul saw that he was well-built, and carried himself well, like an athlete. He came up to the table, carrying a silver tray in white gloved hands. Paul looked away, staring at the tabletop. "Sorry to disturb you sir," he said to Victor "but this is apparently urgent." He held the tray out. Victor had one hand on Paul's penis inside the fur coat. Paul was trembling with shock at being discovered like this, being found in homosexual flagrante delicto with an older man. "Open it, please, Emil, and read it out to me." Paul heard Emil put the tray on the table and then obeyed. "Dear Victor. I am afraid that I cannot join you at the Club for lunch after all. I'll explain later. Love and kisses, Charlie." Emil had a deep voice, deeper than Victor's. "Thank you, Emil. This is Paul. Paul, Emil," said Victor. "How do you do, Master Paul," said the butler. Paul could hardly speak with shock. His face was crimson. He looked up, briefly, into the man's face. Two large brown eyes gazed down at him. "Hello, Emil," he whispered. Emil smiled down at him, warmly. Paul looked away again. "Would you like anything to eat or drink, Master Paul?" he said. Paul's arms were tight across the closed fur coat, with Victor's hand holding his flaccid penis in the furs. He could not move. He could not flee. Paul looked up again. "No... no thank you, nothing to eat. May I have some orange juice?" Paul could not help noticing that Emil was actually handsome. "Of course, Master Paul," said Emil, and poured him a glass. As he did so Paul continued to look at him. He realised that Emil was very handsome indeed. He handed Paul the glass. Paul let go of one side of the fox fur coat to take it, and it fell open slightly, off his shoulder, as he did so. As he drank the juice, he did not know where to look. But his eyes kept coming back to the handsome man standing in front of him, smiling at him. He could feel Victor's hot hand in his groin. He realised now that Emil was more than handsome. He was a beautiful man. Paul could not help his gaze then travelling down the butler's body, and found himself aware of his physique, apparent under the formal clothes. Suddenly, Victor's hand slightly and gently pulled his penis. It was an electric shock to Paul. He gasped slightly, and quickly handed Emil the glass. For that movement in his lap had been like a switch, and electricity was now beginning to radiate from Victor's hand into his young loins. Then Victor spoke, as his fingers continued to gently stroke Paul's penis under the coat. "Emil, dear chap, tell me honestly, have you ever seen anyone as beautiful as this boy?" The outrageous, provocative compliment knifed through Paul's consciousness, straight down to his penis in Victor's fingers. He took a sharp inbreath, and in a reflex looked up into Emil's deep brown eyes. Shockingly, Paul realised from this that he badly needed to hear the lovely man's answer. Emil responded by smiling slowly, holding Paul's gaze. "I don't believe I have, sir," Emil answered slowly. Paul thrilled to the answer, and it must have showed, for Emil then did a terrible thing. He reached down and gently stroked the front of his striped butler's trousers. And without being able to stop himself, Paul's eyes followed, and he saw a large bulge underneath. His own penis responded to the sight, stiffening under Victor's stroking. He found himself stroking his own cheek with the thick fur collar of the fox fur as he stared at the man's crotch, transfixed, a surge of young lust for this beautiful stranger rising in his yearning body. Victor slid his arm around Paul's shoulder and pulled him gently towards him. Paul did not resist, holding Emil's gaze. Instinctively, he knew that Emil would be excited seeing him in the arms of another man. Victor whispered into Paul's ear. "And Paul, dear boy, do you want to see the most beautiful thing you'll ever see too?" He was being invited to see the butler's penis! The shocking and thrilling suggestion instantly relit in the boy the sexual fire that had been so suddenly doused when he had seen Emil emerge from the house. Paul began to move inside his scented fur as his penis became once again erect in the older man's cunning fingers, his own hand caressing his cheek and naked shoulder with the fox, the other holding the coat closed around him, his lips parting instinctively, his tongue wetting them, his eyes now fixed alternately on Emil's handsome face and on the bulge in his trousers right in front of him. And of course, Victor knew exactly what his newly seduced, sexually aroused young prot?g? would want, without him having to say. This was just as well, as Paul was now choked with lust and unable to speak, or even nod. "Emil, show him!" commanded Victor, as he began properly masturbating Paul's erect cock whilst caressing his shoulder through the fur. Paul was now moving against the man's body, oblivious to everything except the sensations on his skin, the sound of Victor's breath in his ear, the surges of pleasure in his stiffening, masturbated cock, and the vison of masculine beauty and power that stood in front of him. Emil slowly undid the zip in his striped butler's trousers with his white-gloved hands, reached in and pulled out his semi-erect cock, and also released his balls outside the trousers. Emil's penis was big! Paul instinctively drew breath as he stared at it, whilst Emil began fondling it with his gloved hand as it grew longer and thicker each second. Here he was, a beautiful, naked boy in the sunlit morning after debauched sex with his seducer- a lecherous, older, rich homosexual- in his luxurious mansion. Here he was, his smooth body swathed in a magnificent fur coat, sitting pressed up against the same man who was masturbating him while he was staring up at another man, a servant, who was now also masturbating himself inches from his face. Only minutes before he had been deep in a hot, wet kiss with the older man as they were mutually masturbating. And now, once again, Paul was feeling the sensuous furs again, feeling the cold air on his legs and the shoulder off which the fur had slipped, tasting the sweetness of the juice, and the heat from Victor's hand in his groin, and most of all drinking in with his eyes the sight of Emil's large, erect penis. Paul was deeply affected by this naked demonstration of his ability to arouse sexual excitement in this stranger. In sixteen hours of sexual thrill upon sexual thrill, this one, the thrill of being caressed in furs by one man and lusted after by another was the highest. Emil's penis was thicker than Victor's and was not circumcised like his. Emil deliberately and knowingly drew the prepuce back so that Paul could see a tiny bead of pre-cum in the slit at the top of the erection. Paul looked up at Emil's face, and a surge of unholy love filled him. Here was a beautiful man offering his erect cock to him, So it was inevitable that Paul leant forward, letting his fur coat fall open again to reach out to Emil's buttocks and, now panting with desire, draw the man's groin towards his flushed face, to his moist lips, to lick the precum from the tip of Emil's erection, and then proceed to kiss his penis. In just the few wonderful hours of his newly discovered homosexual delight since wandering to Victor's house this was already the second penis in Paul's willing mouth As his blond hair fell down over Emil's thighs, Paul wanted so badly to suck the whole of the man's wonderful cock into his mouth but of course he could only take in the glans without choking. He now used both hands on Emil's shaft, masturbating the butler as he sucked the head of the penis, as if born to such depravity. Saliva gushed, so when Emil unexpectedly pulled his penis out of Paul's mouth he was dribbling, dribbling with lust. At the same time Victor stopped masturbating him. The two men engaged in his ravishment, master and servant, were obviously experienced debauchers, finely tuned to each other's perverted lust for young boys, and each knew exactly what to do next to Paul. "Kneel on the cushion," Victor ordered him, as Emil walked around to the side of the sofa. Paul's head followed the man, and he obeyed, kneeling along the soft velvet, and then quickly leaned forward over the cushioned velvet armrest to once again take Emil's magnificent hot tool into his wet, slavering mouth. He was possessed. All thoughts of getting back to his family, of leaving this luxurious paradise of sex, had vanished. Once again, his hair fell over his eyes as he sucked and rubbed the penis. He could see nothing except the butler's thick black pubic hair above its shaft. He could smell the faintest odour of urine- which, far from repelling him, seemed to heighten his enjoyment. He felt Victor get up on the sofa behind him, and felt the shock of cool air on his buttocks, his erect penis and his exposed back as the large fox fur was pushed up over his waist, and then felt Victor's fingers smearing something delightfully cool and slimy around his anus. He realised with a delightful shock that his hole was being creamed with butter from the breakfast tray on the table. Then Victor's finger slipped painlessly into Paul's anus, and he felt it start to massage his rectum inside, at the front. Then Paul felt more fingers, and more and more pleasure as they swept around inside him. Victor's other hand was stroking his naked body under the fur, rising to his nipple, pinching it gently. Despite having been sore when he woke up, he felt nothing but waves of pleasure arising from the man's skilful invasion of his body and the knowing way his fingers twisted slimily inside him. Instinctively, Paul opened his legs and buttocks wider and wider so more and more of Victor's fingers could enter him, at the same time sucking and masturbating the big cock in his mouth, trying to get as much in as he could without gagging. Paul's pleasure was coming from everywhere- from the oily fingers filling his anus, from the caress of the soft sealskin and fox fur on his back and neck, from his pinched and stroked nipples, and the sensations of Emil's penis inside his mouth. But most of all his pleasure was in his brain- in his appreciation of the glory of his slim, feminine body being loved by two older men, their desire for him so wildly apparent. Suddenly, the deeply aroused boy felt Victor's fingers leave his anus and nipple, and then the man's hands on his slim waist, and immediately Victor's hard, hot prick pushing gently at his slimy anus. Paul breathed out a sigh of immense sexual pleasure and pushed his body backwards under the fur coat into the man's erection, willing it into him. And then Victor entered him, and for the first time in his life he had the joy of two erect cocks in his body at once. Emil's cock was throbbing under Paul's slim hands, Victor's pushing in and out of his oiled anus, and then Paul entered heaven as one of Victor's hands, greasy with butter, found his erect penis and resumed masturbating him. The three did not all orgasm at once. Paul looked up, pulled his hair from his eyes with one hand, and when he saw the strong, handsome face, the butler leaning back with his hands on his hips, his pelvis pushed forward into Paul's face, staring down at him in a frenzy of lust, Paul could not hold on. The vision of the beautiful man's wild lust for him, for Paul, sent him spinning into orgasm. So it was the rampant boy who came first, spurting onto the Victor's hands and over the velvet of the garden sofa. Then Victor came, deep inside the boy's writhing body; Paul sensed his convulsive jerks and heard his stifled cry of lust. But something strange and lovely then happened to Paul as his own orgasm sputtered to an end, and the vast penile thrill of sex with the two men receded. His pleasure at sucking and masturbating Emil's beautiful cock was not diminished but continued. It continued even as Victor gently slid his cock out of the boy. It continued as Victor's hands left Paul's penis with a final pull, emptying the boy of the last of his semen. And it continued all the time Paul looked down his nose at Emil's swollen erection, as he carried on sucking and masturbating the man, the boy loving the act of homosexual worship in which he was so devotedly engaged. All Paul wanted, now that his own lust was slaked, was to bring Emil to climax in his mouth. Victor was now stroking his naked buttocks all the while, and then leaned over Paul's body and ran his hands up under the fur again, caressing his back, buttocks, belly and nipples. Paul felt Victor's hot breath in his ear and the pressure of his body onto his back, through the sensuous lining of the fur coat. "Paul, you're fabulous!" he hissed, just as with a groan, the butler released his jism in big spurts into Paul's wet mouth. Paul's whole body was now in an altered state- a state of total sexual ecstasy- as he gulped the semen down, the tip of the man's penis quivering and pulsing in his mouth as the boy milked the shaft with his hands. When it stopped spurting, Paul pulled his head off the man's erect penis, held it with one hand and licked the glans and the shaft. He found himself giggling with pleasure. He then looked up, brushing his hair from his face with his free hand to see Emil's face and beautiful dark eyes smiling down at him. Paul still had semen in his mouth and on his lips as he laughed quietly with deep sexual joy, sperm dribbling down his chin, and Emil joined him, also laughing quietly and caressing Paul's hair, his erect penis waving, glistening with the boy's saliva, held by the boy in front of his laughing mouth. The three were like that for what seemed to Paul ages. All three were panting: Paul smiling contentedly as he gazed up at Emil's face, feeling Victor's wicked hands on his skin under the fur, the cool air on his buttocks and naked legs, the older man's sperm oozing gently out of his anus, Emil's still-hard erection in his fingers. Victor, the seducer, was whispering into his ear as he skilfully caressed his young victim's body. "Paul, darling, look! Look at his gorgeous cock. Feast your eyes on it. Look! There's a bit more for you!" And there was; a small glob of semen had appeared on the tip of Emil's prick. Paul, lust satiated but on a trembling plateau of pleasure that suffused his body, leant forward willingly to lick the semen from its glistening tip, savouring its salty sliminess. He pumped the cock a few times to milk it dry, once again with his mouth over the glans and sucked off the spunk, licking the hole with his wet tongue. "Yes, Paul, you are made for this, darling," hissed Victor, "you love it, don't you? You love his cock, don't you? You love its look, you love its feel, you love its smell, you love it when it spurts into your beautiful hot mouth, don't you?" "Mmmm," was all Paul said, still licking it. "You also love being fucked now, don't you, Paul? You love the feel of a cock throbbing inside your body, don't you? You love it as it goes in and out of you, pushing you deep inside your young body, don't you?" Paul lifted his lips from Emil's cock, still holding it. "God, yes! I love it, Victor" he heard himself purr. It was as if he had been taken over by someone else; someone other than the Paul who had wandered into Victor's drive only a few hours ago. Someone other than the frightened young boy who wanted to run away from the house just that morning. Someone new but who had always been inside him; someone he now knew as he used to pirouette in front of the mirror in his bedroom dressed in his stepmother's sexy clothes, draped in her furs. Then he had admired the vision as a randy boy admiring a sexy, available woman- him. Now the woman inside him had been released, out, open. This new Paul now craved sex as a woman, with men. "Paul, say goodbye to Emil. He has to go back to work." Paul pulled the man's penis towards his lips and kissed its shining tip and then looked up at the man who was looking down at him. Paul nuzzled his head against the butler's hands as they stroked his soft hair. Then Paul let go of the man's softening tool. "Goodbye, Emil," he said, "and thank you." Emil took his hands off Paul's head and started to push his cock and balls back into his trousers. "Thank you, young sir," said the butler, smiling. Victor's hands were still sweeping over Paul's body, his caresses keeping Paul on a plateau of pleasure. Emil began clearing some of the table onto the tray. Victor took his hands off Paul's body and gently pulled Paul up into a kneeling position on the garden sofa, letting the soft furs fall back over his legs, although the front of his slim body was still naked, the gorgeous fur coat open, and Paul's penis, still partially erect, visible to the butler as he worked. Victor was now kneeling behind Paul, and leant forward, holding his fur-clad shoulders, drawing Paul back into an embrace and once again kissing his ear as he whispered. "He is in love with you, Paul. Look at him, looking at you all the time." It was true. Emil could not keep his eyes of the boy, his beautiful fur coat open, penis waving, kneeling back against the naked front of his master's body, his soft hair falling down beside his lovely face, licking his full lips of the butler's own drying semen. Paul was smiling coquettishly at the butler, catching his eye whenever he looked up, flirting with him. It seemed to him that the man and the boy were now locked into a depraved contract; that Paul was wordlessly promising himself to the man. "See what you can do? Do you see how entrancing you are? How beautiful? How sexy? You are made for sex, Paul, sex with men like Emil, like me." Paul leant back into Victor as the older man caressed the fox fur on his shoulder, moving the silky sealskin against his skin. When he had put as much as he could on the tray Emil walked off, but Paul could see him stop and look back before going into the house, and Paul imagined what he could see- his master in an open silk dressing gown kneeling on a large garden sofa, holding to his body a pretty, long-haired blonde boy dressed in high heels and a thick white fur coat, also open, through which a semi-erect penis was jutting, the boy moving sensuously against the older man. Paul leant back dreamily as he visualised this erotic scene- a scene in which he was wonderfully starring- as Victor was kissing and nibbling his ear and stroking him through the fur. "Darling Paul, you know this has to end, don't you?" breathed Victor. "We have to get you back to your step-mother if I'm not to be accused of kidnapping" Paul nodded, closing his eyes. He did not want this to end, ever, but knew that it had to. Victor went on, "Tell me about yourself, Paul. You talked to your stepmother yesterday. You seem to get on very well with her. What happened to your mother?" Paul felt, dreamily aware of the enfolding love in which he was wrapped by this man's arms, this man's beautiful clothes, this man's wealth and this man's power, replied without hesitation. "My mother died when I was about four. I don't remember her. My father remarried quite quickly, and I always thought of his wife as my mother- she encouraged me to call her mum. She later had two children, but not with my father. She divorced my father when I was ten and brought us up as a single mum for a while." "Are you in touch with your father?" "No- I lost touch with him after the divorce and then he was killed in a car crash a few years ago. My stepmother is my only relation. She lives with this other bloke- he's the father of my stepsisters. We don't really get on. I think he's jealous of me. My dad left enough money for me to go to boarding school, which was easiest for her. I think she sees me as, well, a cuckoo in her nest." "Did you like your school?" "No, I hated it. My last term ended last week, thank God." "Why did you hate it?" "I didn't have any friends, really. It was a boy's school. It's not that they were nasty or anything. They all seemed so ... well, crude, if you see what I mean. I hated sports. I'm not very good at studying, either. And I couldn't talk about how I felt, you know, the dressing... I had to pretend all the time. I hated it. I'm so glad it's finished." "What are your plans? What are you doing next?" "I'm supposed to be going to sixth form college next year, in September, but I have not got a place yet- it depends on my exam results. But..." "Hmmm?" questioned Victor, keeping up the delicious, gentle massage of Paul's shoulders and chest through the fur coat. "I don't think I'll do well enough. I didn't do any work. I was so unhappy." There was a catch in Paul's voice. Victor was silent for a while. Then, with one hand he started stroking Paul's hair. "You have lovely long hair- did they object at school?" "No- quite a few boys had even longer hair. Some of the teachers grumbled but no-one really cared." "What about at home- now, in the holidays- what's that like for you?" "Well it's pretty boring. I spend a lot of time reading. My stepsisters are much younger than me. They're sweet, but I don't have anything in common with them. I'm only really happy when everyone is out, and I can... dress up." "Do you dress up in your stepmother's things?" "Yes. She's around the same size as me. She loves fashion and has lots of nice clothes." "You're like me, Paul. You love furs. Does she have furs?" "She has two- a fox fur coat, and a mink coat. I dress myself in them whenever I can. I really like the feel of the fur- when I stroke it, when it brushes my cheek in front of the mirror, when the sleeve touches my cock. I also love it when I wear them inside out, with the fur against my skin. She also has two other coats with nice big fox collars- one of them is red leather." "Do you have any of your own women's clothes?" "I have a suspender belt, some stockings, and a pair of high-heeled shoes I stole from someone's house when we were staying there. They fitted me perfectly. I hide them under the floor of my wardrobe" "Do you ever think of men when you are dressed up?" "No, not until... well, last night. I suppose I kind of ignored what it all meant. I was excited by the way I looked. I looked like a woman- my own slave lover, if you know what I mean." "God, Paul, I do know what you mean," said Victor, "you look fabulous dressed as a woman. Do you want to know something, Paul?" "What?" Victor paused. Then he spoke slowly. "I have loved pretty young boys all my adult life, Paul. I have been fortunate enough to have been able to... indulge myself. I want them most when they are dressed as women, Paul. I can afford to dress them well, and I have had sex with many beautiful boys, dressed in satins, silks, lace, and especially furs. But when I saw you, Paul, when you came to my door, I knew that you were special. I knew, Paul, straight away that you loved dressing, even before I saw you dressed and made-up. I have a sixth sense about boys, the way they hold themselves, the way they move, what their eyes fix on, their voice, and above all their response to me. I could tell instantly that you were frightened of me when I opened the door yesterday, Paul." Paul was quiet, listening to Victor's thrilling voice in his ear. "But it was a special fear, Paul, one I always recognise instantly. You were not afraid that I would harm you. No. Quite the opposite, darling Paul. You were afraid that I would entrance you, Paul, that I would make you reveal your deepest, darkest desires to yourself, and not only reveal them but indulge them, wallow in them, surrender to them completely, and give yourself over to them. I'm right, aren't I?" The question speared Paul; his body quivered inside the fur coat as an answer. "Oh, Paul, you have always wanted this; to dress in sexy clothes, to make up your face like a beautiful woman, to wear jewellery, to drench yourself in strong perfume, and for what, Paul? Until yesterday you didn't know why, but now you do, don't you, Paul?" "Yes," whispered Paul, now almost writhing under the soft furs against the man's firm body behind him, "sex with men." He had said it out loud now. "Yes, Paul. For sex with men, Paul. Rich, powerful, older men like me. Men like me who crave sex with beautiful, feminine boys like you, men who can provide you with the luxuries of life, who want to pamper you and kiss you and caress you and spoil you and wank you and suck your delicious young cock and let you suck theirs and ultimately to fuck you, Paul, to fuck your beautiful anus as I have now done twice." One of the evil man's hands slipped down the open front of Paul's fur and found his penis again. Paul's penis was not flaccid after his recent orgasm. It was not even semi-erect. It had responded directly to Victor's words by becoming again achingly, rampantly stiff. Paul was full of young, perverted lust for sex with Victor again. In fact, naked under the gorgeous fur coat, he lusted for sex with any man- any penis, and now, for the first time, love of anal sex- to be fucked whist being wanked. "Fuck, Paul, you're insatiable now, aren't you, my wicked boy? And you've got this old goat going again, too! Look what you've done to me!" But Paul did not need to look- he felt Victor lift up the fur off his buttocks, and he felt Victor's hard erection against them. Paul wiggled his bum into its hardness as Victor started masturbating him again, and then Victor removed his hand for a few seconds before returning to Paul's yearning cock but now slimy with fat- butter again! And at the same time Paul felt Victor's penis, hard and hot but slimy too, slide easily into Paul's anus. Paul gasped with pleasure as it pushed against his insides, and he could not help but let out a stifled groan of pure gratification as Victor began rhythmic sodomy, perfectly coordinated with his masturbation of the boy's erect and willing penis. Then, inexplicably, just as Paul's excitement was rising to a luscious climax, Victor stopped pumping his erect penis in and out of Paul's willing body and pushed Paul forward and down on his hands and knees. He thrust his cock ever deeper into Paul's rectum and just held it there, deep inside the boy. At the same time, he stopped masturbating Paul. "Oh! Oh! Don't stop!" moaned Paul. Paul put a hand down between his own naked legs and tried to touch his penis, to masturbate, to bring himself to orgasm in the delightful, overwhelming pleasure of the sensation of Victor's cock pushing as far as it would go into his rectum. But Victor's greasy hand caught his, pulled it away from his yearning cock. "No, Paul, wait!" Victor hissed. And then Paul felt it. Inside him Victor's cock was jerking, but without any movement of the man's body. A strange sensation emanated from deep within him, this very spot where Victor's penis had found itself, and spread all over his body. Then a vast rush of pleasure filled every inch of Paul, from his tousled blonde hair to his toes in their tight high- heeled shoes. Then the feeling coalesced in his groin, and then in his straining, untouched prick and small, hairless balls, and then he climaxed, spurting onto the already semen-stained velvet, his body arching under the soft caress of the furs against his naked skin and the pressure from Victor's body, sprawled over his. So debauched was Paul now, so corrupted that he had lost count of the times he had spurted his spunk since coming, all that time ago, into Victor's vast house; but this was the strongest explosion of pleasure he had ever experienced in his young life. Paul cried out with joy as he kept spurting. After a few seconds of sexual bliss, the gushes of semen seemed to die down. Victor again touched his penis- it was so sensitive that it almost hurt! Paul's whole body jerked, and then came even more pleasure as Victor's slimy fingers milked his erection of the remaining semen. Paul felt as if he had emptied his whole body, even his whole soul, through his penis onto the velvet sofa. A few seconds later Victor slowly started pumping his own penis, no longer rock hard, but still swollen, in and out of Paul's oily rectum, all the time kissing Paul's ear, and whispering. "Darling," he hissed, "we have to stop soon. You have to go back to your holiday. You have to go back to your family. But when you do, you have to remember this feeling, all the time you are awake. And maybe also in your sleep, sweet boy. Savour the feel of me inside you, Paul. Remember this. How it feels to have my cock deep in your body. How it makes your delicious willy feel, all hard and tingly. Will you remember this, Paul? Do you promise, darling?" "God, Victor, yes!" was Paul's response. Emptied of semen, lust suddenly gone, Paul was filled with something new. Something new and wonderful. For the first time in his young life, Paul was in love. **** In this haze of love, Paul let Victor walk him back to the house, arm in arm, pressing close to the older man through the fur coat, flagrantly and deliberately open, as was Victor's silk dressing gown. The man's penis, semi-erect still, waved in front of him as they walked. Paul's was still quite stiff, full of his deep, erotic love. Paul took in the luxury around him- the beautifully tended lawns and flowerbeds, disappearing in every direction. The vast castle-like mansion shouted out wealth, the sort of wealth that can buy anything- or anybody. Every few steps Paul stopped Victor and pulled him round for a long, slow kiss, their naked bodies sliding together. Then they walked on. Victor took him into another door and led him up some back stairs to a closed door. Victor opened it and ushered him through. Paul recognised the hallway where Victor had brought him the previous night, wet and cold. Victor was holding his hand as they walked to the same room that Paul had first bathed in. The same room in which Paul had first dressed up in that tarty velvet dress, with the fur- trimmed slits that he had not understood. He understood them now. He had wandered into the lair of a ruthless seducer of young boys, who used the power of beautiful clothes, perfumes, silks, satins and furs to bend them to his sexual will. The slit between the buttocks had been for just one thing: to let a man's erection enter a boy's anus whilst the boy was wearing the dress, without having to waste time taking it off. Victor let Paul enter. The room was just as he had left it with Victor the night before, to drive to a phone box in a fur-lined coat and tell the big lie to his step-mother that also told Victor that Paul was his, his for the sensuous taking. On the bed were his jeans, t-shirt, pants and socks. On the dresser were the contents of his pockets from the previous day. On the floor were his trainers. Everything was clean and dry. Paul was looking at the room where his old life ended, but his clothes were there- his old life. It was a life he no longer wanted. Victor came in after him and stood just behind him. Paul could see his reflection in the mirror. A glowing beauty shone from his face under the long blonde hair that fell over one eye, tumbling down to the thick silver fox fur collar that framed it. The coat was still open and his erection- which seemed to him now deliciously permanent- was pointing forwards between the folds of fur as they tumbled down to the patent stiletto heels on his feet. Behind him, his hands on Paul's shoulders, rubbing them gently through the luxurious coat as he pulled the boy's body towards him, was Victor, his face against Paul's cheek. This was almost exactly the same vision that Paul had experienced just after he had walked into Victor's bedroom the night before, but now Paul was wearing no make-up or jewellery, his hair was tousled and charmingly unkempt, there was crusted semen on his chin, his lips were puffy from kissing, and he was no longer terrified of the raging feelings that had then filled him. Paul spoke without turning around. "Victor, I don't want to go back. Ever. I want to stay here, with you. I'll do anything you want if you let me stay. Please, Victor?" Victor could see Paul's big eyes moist with tears. He held the boy gently against him. "Darling Paul, you have to go back now. But you can come back. What were you going to do before going to College next year?" He used "were." "I was going to work for a few months, maybe in an Art Gallery. I was going to apply for college and then travel." He used "was." "Excellent, Paul. Would you like to work for me? You'd have to live here, though, not in the city. Do you think your step-mother would mind?" "What would I tell her I was doing?" "I will offer you work experience in... say... estate management. This is a very large estate, Paul. I will tell her that you will be paid, and that there will be accommodation. I'll suggest you come back here after your holiday is finished- say in a week or two." Paul's heart leapt. "Will you, Victor?" "I will, Paul." And Victor kissed his earlobe. "But I won't tell her where your accommodation will be, will I, Paul? And I won't tell her what your duties will be, either. And I won't tell her the contents of the education that you'll receive here. Do we have an... understanding?" Paul was laughing softly at the depravity of the invitation. Of course, he knew that the accommodation was going to be sumptuous. He knew that his duties would consist of dressing up for sex with Victor, and now, after Victor's encouragement with Emil, probably other men too. And above all he knew that he would be learning all there was to learn about sex with men. For Paul had crossed the Rubicon into a land flowing with luxury, power, pleasure and above all love- but the unholy, sinful love of a recently seduced boy for his evil and calculating master. He turned to Victor for one last deep, wet kiss dressed in furs and high heels. The last kiss before he was to get dressed as a boy again and be taken back to his old life for an agonising few days of anticipation. But he knew he could do it- he could sustain any lie that Victor suggested or the situation demanded, and he could wait for that thrilling day when he could come back to Victor's mansion and begin his new life as a pampered, perfumed, silk-clad, jewelled, made-up object of perverted desire. And I will tell you more of this when it happens...