Lost: Part 4 free porn video

Lost Part 4 Archibald Young As Paul emerged from sleep the next morning - the second morning he had awoken in Victor's huge, silken bed- he was happier than he had ever been. He was naked, and his anus was tender from the repeated sodomy to which he had not just surrendered but abandoned himself. His lips were encrusted again with Victor's dried semen, as were the expensive satin sheets with his jism where he had climaxed, again and again, in that long night of sexual love with the older man. But now, instead of revulsion and regret he was full of delight to be where he was. Yes, he was a little thirsty, a little hungry, and his body ached a bit from the positions he had adopted under his seducer's expert guidance, and in which he had been joyously fucked. Victor had seemed as insatiable as he; in fact, neither of them had had much sleep. But here he was, looking at his reflection in the huge ceiling mirror from the tousled bed, half covered in the thickest, softest red fox fur, his blonde hair tousled, his makeup smudged, especially his bright red lipstick, and, delight of delights, sprawled next to him on satin pillows was Victor, his smooth, strong chest exposed above the tumble of satin and fur that hid his lower body, snoring gently as he slept. Paul could see his own lipstick on the man's lips and mouth, a thrilling reminder of how hungry he had been for sex with the man. Immediately aroused by seeing himself and Victor side by side, Paul started caressing the skin of his own naked chest and belly with the soft furs, looking up at the outrageously carnal and sensuous image in the mirror, especially when, without disturbing the older man, Paul pushed down the fur so he could start stroking his stiffly erect penis with its silky hairs. Paul was not only happy because of the pleasure radiating up from his prick. He was not only happy because he was lying naked in a soft, silken bed rubbing himself with a very expensive, sumptuous fur, in a stupendously lavish room in what he imagined was a fabulously luxurious house. He was not only happy because in bed next to him, naked, was an elegant, sophisticated, middle-aged, experienced homosexual with subtle skills in the seduction and ravishing of young boys, like him helpless in the face of their hidden yearnings. He was not only happy because he was deeply and sexually in love with Victor. He was also very, very happy as he considered the days and nights that stretched out for all this pleasure in front of him. He knew in the bottom of his already corrupted heart that his new life in the Manor would be a very long, wet dream of delights. He thought of the wonderful wardrobe of sexy, soft and seductive clothing he had already seen, and of the clothes he would be wearing every day- the lingerie, stockings, heels, dresses and gowns. He thought of Erica's skill and willingness to make whatever stunning creations he might want. He thought of Erica's expertise at hairdressing and massage. He thought of Erica's love of furs, and proficiency in buying the softest and most glamorous ones for him to wear. And he thought of Emil, at his wanton beck and call, as well as all the other staff he would eventually encounter, and of the pleasures that he would have with them. His eyes closed as he thrilled to the thought that delights that he had not yet even imagined lay ahead, whilst the enjoyment of his hot cock under the fur grew and grew as he masturbated. "Mmm," said the man lying beside him, "I messed up your lovely makeup last night, didn't I?" Paul turned. Victor was awake, watching him rubbing his erection with the red fox fur. He slid closer to Paul over the satin sheets, and reached out to close his hand over the boy's penis. "Darling Paul, now you are in the Manor you will never need to pleasure yourself! There will always be someone to have sex with, even if I am away, or Emil is busy. It would be such a waste of such a pretty boy for you to cum on your own. I have ordered them all to be available to you whenever you want." Paul, electrified, smiled and leant over to kiss Victor; a long, slow kiss of thanks for such a beautiful night of sex, and for Victor's hand which had now replaced Pauls and was rubbing his erect penis with the fur, and for Victor's promise of sexual gratification whenever he felt like it. Paul reached under the sheets and slid a hand along Victor's powerful abdomen to fondle the man's own penis, which began to grow under the boy's caresses. So Paul's first whole day at the Manor began with sex. It began as it would continue, and as it would continue day after day for months and months. ****** Paul slept after morning sex with Victor, and when he was awakened by knocking on the door he was alone in the huge bed, just as he had been that first morning. "It's me, Erica," called the voice from outside. Paul sat up, automatically pulling the fox fur over his body. "Come in," he croaked, his voice sleepy. Erica came in with a wave of perfume. He was dressed almost the same as he had been the day before, except his kaftan was silver, and he had matching gloves and jewellery. He carried a tray. "Good Afternoon! Darling boy, Victor has had to go out, but he asked me to tell you that he'll be back tonight. I've brought you some breakfast." He came up to the bed and looked at Paul. "God, Paul, you've had quite a night, haven't you! Look at your makeup- a disaster! Was it lovely, sweetie? Isn't Victor gorgeous?" Paul smiled, contented. "Erica, he's fabulous. I am so happy." "Ah sweet boy, I know you make him very happy too! I'm so pleased. Have you breakfast and then we'll get you sorted out. Victor wants me to show you round the Manor. I'll be back soon!" Erica left the tray on Paul's lap, and was gone, leaving behind only his strong scent. ***** When Erica returned he brought with him the skimpy silk dressing gown Paul had worn the day before, and when he had slipped into this, and the bootees, Erica took his hand and they walked out into the house together. First, Erica insisted they go back to his boudoir where Paul pooed, peed and brushed his teeth and Erica repaired the transvestite boy's face. Paul put the greased butt plug back into his anus- cool and delicious. Then they went back up to the room where Paul had dressed for his night of sex with Victor, and Erica chose Paul's day outfit. Erica dressed Paul in a scarlet silk slip, sexily slit at front and rear, grey silk hold-up stockings, grey stiletto heels, and then a large, grey cashmere sweater which just reached the bottom of his slip. It had a big roll collar that fell off one shoulder. It was incredibly soft, and Paul kept caressing it with jewelled fingers. He was wearing a silver choker and earrings. Paul's cock was semi-erect, pushed through the slit in the slippery silk, caressed by the soft fabric of the jumper, whose size hid his tumescence. Erica brushed Paul's hair so it tumbled onto the soft cashmere and his one naked shoulder. Erica was delighted with his work, and so was Paul, once again spinning in front of the mirror and admiring the vision of homosexual sex his image promised, every movement stimulating his tingling anus and his prick. "Right, darling, let's show you the house," said Erica. "I'll keep the best room for last!" So began Paul's tour of Cheston Manor, with him mincing along in his provocative outfit, made-up, scented and jewelled, hand in hand with the outrageously camp Erica. Paul had already seen the library, the wonderful fur-strewn dressing room, and the room where Victor had taken him first, and of course he had seen Erica's boudoir, not to mention Victor's palatial bedroom. It was a huge house, and there was a lot to see. Behind the rather austere hallway were doors, all with security pads that Paul's fingers now operated, that led off to much less austere areas and rooms, like Victor's bedroom- in fact, ones designed, furnished and decorated with only two principles: the gratification of homosexual lust, especially between feminine boys and older men, and extravagant luxury. Paul was highly aroused by each new discovery. "This is the...party room," said Erica, leading Paul into a huge space and turning on the lights, revealing a ballroom with a tall, vaulted ceiling from which hung golden chandeliers. The huge windows had closed curtains of heavy, golden velvet. Every wall was hung with large gilt mirrors and between them paintings like those in Victor's bedroom: of sexually aroused, beautiful boys half-dressed in wonderful gowns and furs, but here there were also gorgeous naked, erect men enjoying all sorts of sexual activity with the boys, who were all pictured laughing as they were ravished, masturbated or sucked. The room had a stage at one end, also curtained, and across the thick red carpet were arranged sofas, chaise longues, divans, ottoman, pouffes and even beanbags all covered in soft furs. There were fur throws all over the room. Here and there were tables and cabinets, and along one wall was a sparkling bar, behind which it seemed a thousand bottles gleamed. It did not need Paul's sexually fevered imagination to picture what delights would transpire in this heavenly room. Erica took Paul out through a door at the rear of the public room, into a softly-lit, again thickly-carpeted corridor. There were doors on each side. Erica opened one of them and turned on the light. "This is one of the private rooms that people can come to during the parties." It was a large, bedroom entirely in black with big armchairs upholstered in soft black sheared mink, with a big bed with black satin and fur bedding, and large satin pillows on the floor as well as on the bed. The side lamps were black phallus-shaped, with scarlet lampshades. There were gilt mirrors on all the walls, and, Paul noticed, on the ceiling. There were no windows. The paintings were of the same sort as in the party room. There were whips and chains hanging on a rack at one end. "They're mostly the same, although some of the rooms are special- for certain guests with, shall we say, special requirements." Paul, very excited, wanted to know more, but Erica demurred. "Not yet, darling boy. You'll find out for yourself when you're ready." The prospect of future sexual revelations filled Paul with sexual joy. "Come on, let's go to the pool." They followed some twisting corridors and then down some stone steps to some double doors, which Erica opened. They stepped into a warm, fragrant, moist hall, lit by frosted skylights. Erica pressed a switch. It was a huge, sunken pool, with underwater lighting, surrounded by marble terracing and a low marble banister. Marble pillars rose to the domed ceiling. There was room for about thirty people in the water, and there were wide steps going down from the terrace on each side. Fountains played in alcoves around the pool, and on the terraces were divans and sofas upholstered in thick white towelling, over which were tossed many huge, thick towels of various colours. There were marble tables on which there were bottles that looked like oils. There was a bar at one end of the hall, and a door at the far end. The pool water steamed slightly. "It's not really for swimming in," said Erica, "as it's shallow- it would come up to your sweet little nipples, dear boy. But if you like playing in water with no clothes on you'd enjoy it. Through there are some more... private rooms..." The lavish splendour of the pool left Paul breathless. Once again, he could imagine what it would be like full of naked, smooth-bodied boys and all sorts of older men. "Now for something completely different, darling boy. The kitchen!" And Erica took Paul back up the steps and along more corridors to a double swing door. Paul was now hopelessly lost, but tremulously excited at the sumptuous luxury that surrounded him. Erica pushed open the door and they went in. It was a shocking contrast to what Paul had seen so far. It was a large, white tiled ordinary kitchen, and two good-looking men who were working both stopped what they were doing to look at the visitors. They were in their thirties or forties. Paul felt himself blush: the men were staring intensely at him, a beautiful, made-up, jewelled boy-girl enveloped in folds of soft cashmere, all long legs and high heels. He found himself blushing under their gaze. "This is Paul, chaps," said Erica. "Paul, this is Harold, and this is Frank." Each man bowed. They were both good-looking and muscular under their half-open white coats. "Where's Stefan?" asked Erica. "In the cold store," answered Harold. "Come this way," said Erica, and, still holding Paul's hand, led him across the kitchen and through a heavy door. It was cold inside, but Paul was warm in the thick, soft jumper. They walked past hanging meat carcasses to a butcher's table, where a huge man was chopping bloody meat. "Stefan, meet Paul," said Erica, and the man turned. He was in a white jacket and trousers, stained with fresh blood, which barely contained his large, fat body. He had small eyes almost hidden in a face of fleshy folds, spattered with blood. He had thick lips and a bulbous nose, almost no neck, but Paul could see the strength in his arms. He stared at Paul, and started licking his lips. Paul was transfixed with disgust and aversion. Stefan was the complete opposite to all that Paul yearned for, and all that he had seen evidence of so far. After an age, like his workers, he bowed. When he straightened. Paul couldn't help but notice the bulge in his trousers. "Stefan makes a beautiful chocolate mousse," Erica whispered in Paul's ear. Like a lightning strike, the thought that that very bulge was the source of the semen he had so joyously eaten with Victor the previous night stunned him. Erica watched Paul to see how shocking it was for him to think that he might have already eaten the semen of this disgusting man. "But the topping comes from those lovely lads in there," Erica giggled as they left the kitchen, still hand in hand, watching Paul's blushing face turn from shock to a shy smile. "Did you like them?" Erica asked. Paul just nodded. "Yes, they're rather dishy, aren't they? My favourite is always Harold- he has a fantastic mouth. Although Frank, well, Frank is especially good at the other end... so I enjoy both of them, preferably together." Paul was recovering from the shock of meeting Stefan, and the image of the two men fellating and sodomising Erica was both disgusting and exciting. Erica pointed at a set of doors next to the kitchen. "That's the dining-room, Paul. I won't show you the cinema now, as Victor wants to take you there tonight. He has some, well, vivid new films he wants to watch with you. So I'll take you to the best room in the house- apart from Victor's bedroom, of course." Paul was intrigued. What could be better than the sensuous party-room, the private sex rooms, the elaborately luxurious underground pool, or the two wonderful, scented rooms in which he had already dressed up for sex? Another set of softly-lit, quiet, carpeted corridors later, now on the first floor, they came to a double door around and over which was an elaborate wooden carving. It showed men and boys entwined in sex- as couples, and groups if boys with one man, or men with one boy. It was beautiful and thrilling. There was no mistaking what went on behind this door. Erica turned the large, silver ring on one door and it opened. Beyond was a large room, with tall windows opening out onto the lawns and trees beyond. The wallpaper was silver, shot silk, with thick black velvet curtains. There were no pictures- just large, carved mirrors also framed in silver. The fittings were silver- handles to other rooms and wardrobes, the chandeliers, and curtain-ties. There were some silver chairs and sofas here and there, upholstered in silver velvet, and a large, chrome dressing-table with lights and moveable mirrors. The carpet was silver-grey, and the floor was strewn with different sorts of animal skin; tiger, leopard, bear and shaggy, fluffed up goat and sheep. The bed was in the centre of a round, raised dais, covered in a short black fur, probably sheared mink, and it was round, but with a huge silver silk canopy rising on either side to a chain hanging from the ceiling. At the head was a mountain of pillows, large and small, covered in silver velvet, satin or silver fox fur. The bedlinen was ivory satin, and over the bed was the biggest silver-fox fur bedspread that Paul had seen so far in this mansion of fur, thick and opulent. Like the other rooms Paul had seen in the Manor, it was made for sex. Instinctively, Paul let go of Erica's hand, unzipped his bootees and dropped them, then walked over the animal skins towards the bed. The carpet was soft, yielding, as if the floor below was sprung. He could feel the soft caress of the skins on his feet through the silk of the expensive stockings- some of the skins were thick enough to brush his ankles. Paul realised he could stop anywhere for sex- standing, kneeling, lying, on all fours- he would be luxuriously comfortable anywhere. Paul climbed onto the bed, knelt, pulled up his soft, cashmere jumper and satin slip up over his groin, and with one hand pulled folds of the vast silver fox bedspread to his naked upper thighs and erect penis. With his other he started manipulating the plug in his anus. He was oblivious of Erica who was smiling as he watched him cavort on the huge bed. He was oblivious of everything except both the feelings of pleasure that surged through his body- his whole being- or his reflection in the large mirrors around the room. There he was, drowning in softness- the fur in which he knelt, the cashmere falling suggestively from one naked shoulder, his long blonde hair falling around his painted face- yet also there was his lovely hard erection under his fur-wrapped hand. There was surging pleasure in the sensations of the satin and furs, in the sight of all that silver fox, the outrageous room, the silver, the rich velvet hanging by the window, but most of all by what lay behind the room- its design, its execution, the wealth it conspicuously advertised, and the depraved minds that had created it for the one thing that now dominated Paul's young being: sex. "God, Paul, you look so beautiful! You were born for this!" said Erica. "Darling boy, you should know that this is now your bedroom. You can come here any time you like, and you can have anyone join you here, whenever you like. You can even sleep here!" Paul was woken from his erotic daze by this astonishing announcement. My bedroom? This narcissistic paradise for fur-loving crossdressing? This sensuous den of iniquity and sinful extravagance? This sex-infused cave of delight? Mine? Paul was so aroused by this, he almost ejaculated there and then into the fur. Paul gulped with happiness. "Look, these are specially for you," Erica said, walking over to some double doors and throwing them open to reveal a large walk-in wardrobe, with racks of gowns and dresses, glass-fronted drawers with lingerie and stockings, and a large rack of furs of all sorts. "Victor showed me the velvet dress and said it fitted you perfectly, so I know your size. I bought all these just for you. I shall be making more." Paul, so excited, slid off the fox-fur covered bed and padded over to rifle through the gorgeous, expensive and perfumed gowns and dresses, which were fashioned in the finest and most expensive materials. He pulled out one after the other- each trumped the last in their promise, by revealing or concealing parts of a boy's body, to the watcher of homosexual pleasure. "Oh, Erica, they're gorgeous!" murmured Paul, before turning, heart thumping, to the furs. These were of many sorts, colours, lengths and designs; there were furs for every sexual occasion, from little shrugs of mink to add to some sexy little dress or babydoll nightie, right the way through to huge, long coats in sable, fox, coyote, mink or chinchilla, often lined with another fur, to wear over long, sheer gowns of silk, velvet or satin, (or while otherwise completely naked). Through the wardrobe was another door, which Erica opened. Paul reluctantly stopped caressing the scented furs and followed him into a vast bathroom, this time all gold fittings and black marble. At the centre was a huge, sunken bath with jacuzzi controls. Again, there were mirrors everywhere, and thick, black towels hung around the room. Paul turned to Erica, and ran into his arms, erection waving under the soft cashmere and satin, and kissed the caked makeup on the depraved man's rouged cheek. "Thank you, oh thank you, darling Erica!" "You'll have to thank Victor- which you can do soon, darling boy. It's getting late. Let's get you ready for that gorgeous man!" Once again, Erica was running a scented bubble bath for Paul. Once again, Paul was disrobing in front of an old man dressed like a brothel- keeper. Once again this man was gently removing his anal plug, giving it a little wiggle this time to thrill the boy. Once again Paul, naked and erect, was being douched and depilated, and then lain in a fabulously soft, warm bath. Once again he allowed himself to be washed carefully and all over by this man's knowing hands, a man whom Paul was coming to feel was his best friend on earth. A man who, like Victor, knew all his secrets now and was not only unperturbed by them but actually encouraged the boy's perverted lust for sex with older men; to be kissed wetly and suggestively by them, to be sodomised in luscious furs and satins by them, and to be drinking jism from their hot, erect cocks. As he washed Paul's body, then washed his hair for him, then wrapped him in enormous towels, and then blow-dried the young sheboy's long, golden hair, Paul quizzed him about Victor, and his past. Erica was not to be drawn, so Paul gave up. "Victor wants a formal dinner a deux with you tonight, Paul, and afterwards he will take you to the cinema for a private viewing. So we are going to push the boat out, aren't we!" "That would be lovely, Erica. You are brilliant!" replied Paul as Erica finished curling and drying Paul's soft, fragrant hair. Into Paul's willing anus went magical creams to ease the soreness of the previous night's sodomy and the passage of Victor's hot penis later that day, and after that the oiled glass plug of pleasure. Onto his erect penis went other creams to ease the discomfort of constant erection. Around his waist went a black satin suspender belt. Over his smooth long legs went a black satin thong and tubular pouch which held his erection against his smooth belly, then a very short black silk tulle tutu. Up his legs went the lacy black silk stockings, which Erica clipped to the suspenders. Then Erica brought out from the fur wardrobe a mid-length purple silk brocade jacket, with soft, pearl beige sheared mink lining and trim and a large, golden fox fur collar. The fox fur was flat down each wide lapel, merging into the mink trim of the same colour at the bottom, but rose up behind his head in soft profusion, tickling his ears and cheeks. Erica closed it at the front by a single purple satin bow at the waist across the mink trim. Paul sat on a shaggy fur pouffe while Erica unzipped some high-heeled, thigh-length purple suede boots with matching mink trim and helped Paul slide his long, silk-covered legs into them before zipping them on. Paul stood up and looked at his reflection in the mirror, turning to left and right, loving the way that the golden fur at the bottom of the jacket, flaring out from the waist, just covered the frothy black silk of his tutu. There was a suggestive gap of naked thigh between the soft trim at the bottom of the flared jacket, and a froth of black silk showing slightly underneath, and Paul's black lacy stocking tops. Each movement of course triggered a delicious sensation from his plugged anus. "Erica, you've done it again, haven't you?" Paul exclaimed. "This is a stunning outfit!" "God, yes, sweet sexy boy, you will stun Victor when he sees you in this!" smiled Erica, smoothing the jacket over the boy's firm buttocks, so that Paul could feel the mink fur lining against them. "Come on, let's get you painted and decked with jewels!" Once again, after Erica moved away to let his see his face in the dressing table mirror, Paul was captivated by the seductive beauty of his own face. This was framed by large, gold earrings and a big, elaborate necklace of diamonds and gold lying between the golden fox fur lapels, and the background of the big fur collar behind his head. Paul studied his reflection, eyes half closed with narcissistic desire. "One more thing," said Erica, "before you go to Victor." Erica handed Paul a small purple leather clasp bag, with a golden shoulder chain. "When it's the right time, that's where your plug goes too- OK?" Paul took one more look at himself in the mirrors, at the glamourous, inviting, perfumed and fur-swathed receptacle for male lust that he had so willingly become, before turning to Erica. "Erica, I can't thank you enough!" he said, his eyes moist with gratitude for the magic that Erica had weaved. "Oh, Paul, Victor's pleasure is my thanks! Give him lots and lots of pleasure, and that will make me happy- looking at you, I don't doubt it!" Then Paul left his wonderful room, stalking out into the carpeted corridor, jewelled and perfumed in his brocade, mink and fox jacket, his body encased in the finest fur, the swish of his flounced tutu around his straining erection in its satin sheath, his anus constantly thrillingly stimulated by motion, and his long legs booted in suede. And where was he going? To dinner: dinner with Victor, his older, rich and sexually experienced lover. And after dinner? To a cinema: to watch homosexual pornographic films together- films of masculine men and feminine boys enjoying sex with each other. And after the cinema? To bed together: to fuck and suck in a huge bed of satin and furs, all night long. The thought of being with Victor again consumed him with excitement. Just before he reached the dining room the kitchen door opened and Stefan walked out. He stopped dead when he saw Paul, saw this vision of sexual availability walking towards him. Paul carried on walking, as the man bowed and stood to one side. As Paul passed, he said to the cook. "Good evening, Stefan." "Good evening, Master Paul," said the man, as Paul walked by, in a haze of perfume, all soft hair, soft fur, soft silk and, invisible but fully appreciated by the ogling monster, hard cock. The dining room was large, wood-panelled, with highly polished tables laid out in alcoves, each flanked by banquettes of dark red velvet. Velvet drapes in the same colour were closed over tall windows. The floor was parquet, the walls carried portraits of old, distinguished- looking and well-dressed men. Although he had never been in one, Paul imagined that this was what a gentleman's club would be like. Each table was softly lit but only one was laid, with white tablecloth, gold cutlery and crystal glasses. A man dressed as a waiter was standing to one side of this. Victor was sitting there, sipping a deep, crimson wine, dressed in a dinner suit, his greying hair beautifully composed, his wicked eyes piercing, his body, as he rose, tall and strong. "Paul, it's lovely to see you!" he said, as Paul walked up to him. "You look sensational!" Victor held out his hand- tonight was there to be no tempestuous kiss leading to urgent sodomy; no, tonight was obviously to be a restrained dinner, under the eyes of the waiter. Paul extended his hand and was delighted when Victor took it to his lips and kissed it. "Hello, Victor," Paul said, quietly, as Victor let go of his hand, and with a flick of a finger, got the waiter to come forward. He kept the clutch bag with him. Victor stood in front of Paul, looking him up and down. "Paul, you get more beautiful every time I see you!" he said. Paul looked back at the elegant man. "Thank you, Victor. You know it's all down to Erica. But before I say anything else, I wanted to thank you for my bedroom. It is everything I could dream of." "Paul, it's only what you deserve. You bring me so much happiness by just being here." Paul smiled, as the waiter pulled a linen napkin off the table to show where Paul was to sit, opposite Victor, not beside him. After the previous long night of unrestrained fucking and sucking, in the library and Victor's bed, not to mention all their fondling, their frottage, their kissing, and their mutual masturbation, Paul found himself even more excited by this formality. It was if his seduction by this deeply desirable man was going to happen all over again. So Paul, seated on the velvet banquette, his wrists sparkling with diamond bracelets in the soft lighting, his long blonde hair falling softly down onto the fur of the collar and lapel of his jacket, the gold and diamond necklace shimmering on his neck between the folds of fur, his penis hard and sheathed in satin under the sexy tutu, his anus full of the fabulously thrilling glass plug, his thighs bare but for the frilly seams of his silk stockings, Paul dined with Victor. The pampered sexual novice drank Victor's exclusive and expensive wine and ate Victor's sensuous menu of oysters, veal and baby leeks. For dessert, he ate Victor's choice of chocolate eclairs, containing the same lovely mixture of semen and whipped sweetened cream that they had so lasciviously enjoyed the night before, but this time Paul licked and sucked them in his gleaming, lipstick-red mouth, gazing, half-lidded, at Victor with full understanding of the sexual messages that the cross-dressed debauched teenager was sending to the older man. At the same time, Paul wickedly stretched out a suede-booted leg to stroke Victor's ankle with his stiletto heels, both conspirators in the depraved contract that now existed between them. As his foot stroked the man Paul felt movement from the plug delightfully deep inside his rectum. They talked quietly over the meal, with pauses to enjoy the wonderful tastes and oral sensations produced by the cooks. Victor asked after Paul's day, and received his congratulations on the splendour of what he had seen. Paul dared a question to Victor about his day, to which the suave man replied that it had been boring business at his office. Paul asked him what business he was in. Victor told him that he was in finance. He seemed uninterested in talking more about himself and asked Paul more questions about his life before they met, gently and skilfully bringing out things that Paul hade never talked about with anyone before. Victor encouraged Paul to explore all his deepest longings, his carnal desires, how lust arose in him and what provoked it; in short, to embark on a journey of sexual self-discovery in the wonderful mansion, without any restraint. "Don't feel you have to reserve yourself for me, sweet Paul. Enjoy anyone you want. I also enjoy others, as I'm sure you know, but you are already very special to me." Paul felt deeply cared-for, loved. Eventually, and in no hurry, the meal was over. "Well, you luscious boy, you've finished dessert. Let's go and watch a film, shall we?" So as soon as Paul had mopped the chocolate off his glistening lips, the waiter appeared and helped Paul, now a bit tipsy both with wine and Victor's mesmerizingly beautiful eyes, get up from the soft velvet. Victor walked Paul out of the dining room and into the corridor, his hand gently pressing Paul's jacket against the small of his back, naked under the silky mink lining. As they walked, their bodies occasionally touching as Paul swayed, half-deliberately, against Victor, the anal plug moved about inside him, amplifying his lust, a lust that had now entered a strange and wonderful plateau from which it seemed impossible to either go higher or descend. They turned into another of the maze of passageways in the house, as always softly carpeted and gently lit, and came to a large door, which Victor opened. Inside was a mock cinema foyer, with even a sweets and ice cream counter. There was a door marked "Toilet". "Victor, please wait a second- I have to pee!" Paul laughed, and disengaging from the man, he went in. He lifted his jacket, slipped his cock out of the satin sheath and peed into the urinal, forcing his erection down, and then slid it deliciously back into the satin. He then bent down and gently pulled out the greasy glass plug from his anus and dropped it into his bag. Victor was waiting, holding an ice lolly shaped like a large, black penis. "Taste this and tell me what you think," he said, smiling. Paul looked straight at Victor, laughing while he licked and kissed the glans of the lolly and then licked the shaft, and then finally slid the whole glans into his mouth. Suddenly the lolly seemed to melt all at once, and a delicious taste filled his mouth- it was semen and cream again! His eyes popped with astonishment. Now Victor was laughing. "One of Stefan's miracles, Paul! Come on, let's go in!" Paul swallowed the rest of the lolly and threw the stick into a basket. They went in. The lights were dim but Paul saw clearly that the sloping cinema was thickly carpeted and divided into different areas where huge leather sofas were arranged so they could all see the screen but not each other. There was no-one else there. Victor guided Paul to one of them, and they sat down close together, even though there was room for more than four. Victor had an arm around Paul, stroking the thick fox fur of the jacket collar against his neck. Paul was in heaven. Victor pressed a button in the seat and the lights dimmed, and then deliberately undid the velvet bow that held Paul's mink and fox jacket closed. Just then the screen came alive. The film started with adverts for very expensive, exclusive clothes, cars, country mansions, planes, yachts, furs and jewellery. In each were satisfied-looking older men, and astonishing young boys, svelte and sinuous, all dressed androgynously. There was no overt sex; just burning looks, suggestive smiles, an occasional caress, a smooth hand over a hairy one, raunchy music. During these suggestive preliminaries, Victor had gently pulled Paul to him, and his hand had slipped under the fur collar of his open jacket on the other side of the scented boy, and his fingers found Paul's nipple, erect under the mink lining, and was gently pinching it as they watched. The sensation was electricity to Paul. Paul leant onto the shoulder of the man's black jacket, deeply inhaling the smell of cigar and wine, and gently rested a hand on his lap. Then the film began. The soundtrack was of quiet, slow, throbbing bass music which still allowed other sounds to come through. It was of a wedding- the "bride" was the very same dark, beautiful boy whose pictures Paul had loved so much in the magazine he'd found on his first night in the Manor. But now he had glossy, blonde hair, carefully coiffed up and gathered with a gold and diamond tiara. The first scenes were amazing- the boy was sitting, naked but for white stockings and suspenders and a flimsy pink peignoir, on a soft, furry pouffe in front of a huge gilt mirror in a fabulously rich, rococo room, all dark velvets, gilt, satins, the walls covered with portraits of half-naked boys, on which the camera occasionally lingered. The boy was making up his face, carefully, expertly, while behind him two slender Asian boys, already made up and rouged, jewelled, were attending to him. They were both dressed in white silk sheath dresses with long arms, fluffy white fur at the collar and cuffs, and a fur-trimmed slash up to the thighs. Each had a suggestive bulge in the groin. One, with dyed blonde shoulder-length hair, was carefully arranging wisps of the boy's golden, lustrous hair, whilst the other, with long, lustrous black hair was kneeling beside the boy, and gently rubbing some white, glistening cream on his erect penis under the peignoir. Paul felt Victor's hard penis push against his hand in the man's lap, and at the same time the hand not pinching his nipple was sliding onto the top of his silk stocking and then, warm, onto his naked thigh below the mink trim of his short jacket. Paul's own cock was straining in its silken sheath, inches from the man's caressing fingers. Paul was immensely excited to be sitting so close to this wonderful, rich, powerful man in the darkness of the cinema, so near to wonderful homosexual lovemaking again. On the screen the scene changed so that the Asian boys were helping the bride-boy into a long white lace sheath dress, trimmed with ermine, slashed at the front and back, so that his erect penis was totally exposed, framed by the royal fur, and the cleft in his buttocks was also open. Now one of the boy bridesmaids was greasing his anus lovingly, and the camera zoomed in to show painted fingers deftly inserting the white grease into the boy's rectum, surrounded by the silky fur, and the camera cut to the boy's face as he smiled with pleasure at the sensation. Next the two boys were helping the boy-bride into beautiful white patent high- heeled shoes, which were covered with sparkling jewels. The camera panned back to show the boy pirouetting in front of a huge mirror, now with jewelled earrings, and choker necklace, and an anklet glistening on each perfect ankle over the stockings. He was laughing gently, wide- eyed, lovely. Paul felt himself falling in love with him. Paul could not help but slip his hand onto Victor's trousers and unzip him so that he could stroke the front of his silk boxers, under which his erection was hard and hot. "Mmm, darling, that's nice," whispered Victor, and although neither he nor Paul stopped watching, Victor's hand was now under the mink of Paul's jacket, stroking his erection inside the silken sheath in which it nestled. Paul, deliquescent, folded himself against Victor's suited body as, caressing each other's penises, they both watched the delightful homosexual scenario unfold on the large screen. Here the two boy bridesmaids were helping the boy put on a vast, white fox fur cloak which was clasped at the neck by a huge golden brooch in the shape of an erect penis and testicles. It had a huge, soft hood, from which hung a long white veil which fell to the floor in front of the boy, half hiding his erection. It also had an enormous train, which the two Asian boys arranged behind him. He was now wearing little frothy lacy white gloves and holding a huge bunch of white lilies. He was ready! Next, he was walking carefully down the stairs, the boy bridesmaids behind him, keeping the vast, shimmering fur gown off the carpet. Standing at the foot of the stairs in the vast hallway was a large, balding man in his 60s, dressed in a morning suit. "That's the boy's master, Paul, the man who owns him," whispered Victor in his ear. Paul had pulled out Victor's cock from his dinner jacket trousers and silk boxers and was masturbating the older man. At the same time Victor had released Paul's cock from the satin thong under the frills of Paul's tutu and was masturbating him in turn. Paul was choked with pleasure and lust and could not speak. His eyes were glued to the screen. There the master came up to the boy and pulled aside the veil. He kissed him on the lips, softly. "You look fabulous, my darling," he said. He gave him his arm, and the bride boy and the man walked out into the sunlight. A vast white limousine was waiting, it's door opened. The boy bridesmaids helped the boy in and arranged the fox furs around the huge floor of the car. Then they left and went to another car. The Master got in, the door shut, and the cars sped off down the long drive of the mansion. The camera moved to the inside of the brides-maid boy's car. They were on a huge scarlet velvet seat, and both had lifted their silken skirts up to free their erect penises, and they were laughing and kissing each other in a languorous tangles of soft, smooth skin, fluffy pubic hair, hot, painted lips and glistening red erections. They caressed and masturbated each other as the car sped along, but all the time in a teasing, flirty manner, and the camera showed the view of them held by the uniformed driver in his mirror. They knew they were exiting him, and he pulled out a huge erection from his trousers and started masturbating with one gloved hand as he drove with the other. The boy's began to get more intense in their homosexual love-making; their kisses got longer and deeper, and soon the one with blonde hair was kneeling on the shaggy carpet of the car and sucking the black-haired boy's penis, all the time making sure that the driver could see his painted mouth and the erect prick sliding in and out, glistening with his saliva. This was enough for the driver, who started to pump hard at his penis, and the music swelled as the dark boy approached orgasm. Then he came, and the blonde withdrew his mouth so that the spunk shot onto his face, and at the same time the driver orgasmed, a huge jet of jism spurting up over his uniform. And the boys both laughed out loud at the sheer joy of their sexuality. The sight of this, together with the sensations from his cock being so skilfully masturbated, the feel of Victor's erection in his hand, the feeling of Victor's body pressing against him through the soft fur of his jacket, the wild thrills from his pinched nipple, the smell of Victor- cigars and alcohol- was too much for Paul. He tore his gaze from the screen and reached up to grasp Victor's head and pulled him down for a wild kiss, during which Victor also stopped watching to kiss Paul back hard, and, still masturbating each other the man and boy turned and fell along the length of the huge sofa, their bodies and tongues writhing together. Although they were now missing the erotic images on the screen, the moans of desire from the soundtrack together with the soft, pounding music, permeated Paul and Victor's tumultuous embrace. Paul felt his climax building, and wanted to stop it, the keep this moment forever. So he broke the kiss and climbed up onto the back of the sofa, and in the flickering light from the screen behind him, bent forward, spread his booted legs, and pulled up the jacket and the soft, silken folds of the tutu over his waist. Over the sounds of lust - of moans, wet, slurping noises and heavy breathing- from the film continuing behind him, Paul called out "Please fuck me, Master!" The word "Master" had sprung unbidden to his lips from the depths of his craving, yearning self. It made his mouth and lips tingle, so he said it again. "Master, Master, please, please, fuck me!" he repeated, each time savouring his body's response to the word. In a moment he felt Victor's knees push between his boots, felt Victor's hands on his waist under the mink of his open jacket, felt his body pulled backwards, and then felt the spine-tingling joy of the man's hot penis pushing gently at his slimy, rosebud anus. Paul sighed in sexual ecstasy and relaxed his lower body, his willing, greased hole opened, and he was taken, taken by his Master. After the first, slow, ravishing entry, Victor's cock began to lunge in and almost out of Paul's anus, keeping rhythm with the throbbing music of the film playing behind them and forcing Paul's erection first into the soft leather of the sofa, and then as their bodies surged forward and back, the silk of the tutu as it deliciously fell down over both his cock and Victor's. The man's wicked fingers were on both of Paul's nipples, pinching hard. The sounds from the film - the sounds of sex between man and boy - was reaching a crescendo, and Victor was grunting as he impaled Paul, again and again, and Paul was also moaning with pleasure as his climax approached. This time his orgasm would not be denied, and a massive upsurge of pleasure engulfed him as he spurted into the silken pleats of the tutu that now enfolded his pulsing penis, crying out with joy. In the midst of his swooning relief, Paul heard Victor moan as he climaxed deep inside Paul, and at the same time came the cries of sexual release from the screen behind them. **** Time passed, with Victor, still in his dinner jacket, panting and sprawled over Paul with his hands now gently caressing Paul's breasts and tender nipples, his penis deep inside the boy, whilst Paul, also panting, was relishing the feel of the older man's firm body pressing him down into the soft leather of the sofa, and the slimy stickiness of his own semen in the silk of his tutu. Behind them, the cinema screen started flickering again with a new scene, and with different, quiet, throbbing music. Victor moved, and with his face now buried in Paul's fragrant, soft hair, started kissing one of Paul's jewelled ears. Paul hear his hot breath, and thrilled to the way in which Victor's still tumescent penis moved inside him. "Paul, Paul, you're the best. You are the best. You know I've had lots of boys, don't you? Well you are the one for me, Paul darling. I am so happy you are staying here with me, in the Manor. Are you happy, darling boy?" "God, Victor, yes!" murmured Paul. There was no hint of post-coital deflation, guilt or even anomie in the boy. If anything, Paul loved these periods immediately after sex with Victor as much as all the growing excitement leading up to it. Although it was still hard, Victor started to withdraw his cock from Paul's anus. "No, Victor, don't go! Stay in me!" Paul said, reaching out and grabbing Victor's buttock with one hand. Victor laughed. He then held Paul by the hips and bodily lifted him from the sofa and moved backwards in one swift, smooth, powerful motion, twisting Paul round whilst still impaled on his erection, so that Paul came to rest on Victor's lap, his silk and fur jacket open, both facing the screen again. Paul leant back into Victor's chest as the man's arm pulled him close, and turned so that they could kiss; a long, slow, post- sex kiss of sweet gratitude to each other for the rapture that they had each provided for the other. Then the music changed, and the obscene images on the screen drew their attention back to the screen. There they sprawled, the half-naked, stiletto-booted, made-up, jewelled and pampered boy in his open, sexy fur coat in the lap of and penetrated by his lover and Master, his seducer, his perverter and debaucher, there, watching fabulous pornography in the gloom of the private cinema. After more pornographic arousal, and for Paul and Victor yet more languorous kisses and caresses on the huge leather sofa, the films came to an end. Victor helped Paul to his feet, smoothed out the boy's semen- sodden tutu and tied the mink and fox jacket closed with the velvet bow. Once again, Paul was a mess- his makeup smeared, semen oozing down his naked thighs from his anus, and his own on his painted and jewelled hands. Paul had come a long way from his furtive crossdressing at home, his bedroom door locked, and now wanted to actually flaunt both his enticing clothes and their carnal results on his body to whomsoever they might meet as they walked through the corridors of the luxurious house. Before they left, arm in arm, Paul turned to Victor. "Would you like to sleep with me in my bed tonight?" Victor smiled. "Yes, my darling Paul. I would." And he did (a little). End of Part 4