There was yet another surprise awaiting Christopher when he arrived back at Mrs Harper’s where he was staying while his mum was away. As he was marched up the drive towards the back door of the house, Christopher still had his hands tied behind his back. Terry and his friend Ben were happy to carry on playing the part of two Cowboys; old hands who knew just how to handle pesky Red Indians such as Christopher. However, Christopher had had quite enough of Cowboys and Indians for one day. The fourteen year old had been splashed with cum when Francis lost control and ejaculated during the ‘firing squad’ game that had been played in the field earlier in the afternoon. The sight of boys squirting cum served to remind Christopher, as if he needed reminding, just how frustrated he was feeling at not being able to masturbate ever since his arrival at Mrs Harper’s house.
It had started off as a bit of a misunderstanding. Christopher was an intensely shy boy and losing all his clothes during a silly game with Mrs Harper’s ten year old son Terry had been a bitter blow. Not only did he lose his own clothes, but it turned out that Mrs Harper didn’t have any boys clothes that would fit him and which he could wear in the meantime. As the days went by Christopher found his hopes of getting something to wear being raised only to be dashed at the last minute. Far from getting used to the idea of being constantly nude, Christopher found his sense of self-consciousness being transported to hitherto unknown levels of embarrassment. The games of Cowboys and Indians were the nearest thing Christopher came to being dressed, but even his Red Indian costume was a source of deep shame, being nothing more than a flimsy flap of leather that didn’t cover his penis properly. The slightest gust of wind and the little loincloth was brushed to one side to expose Christopher’s boy-bits for all to see.
Then he had been cornered into telling Mrs Harper that he didn’t masturbate! Christopher knew it had been his own fault, but he couldn’t bring himself to admit to a grown-up that he played with his penis. That had been a terrible mistake, but what could be worse for a fourteen year old boy? What could be worse was that everyone around him seemed to know what he’d said to Mrs Harper and were conspiring to prevent Christopher from doing what comes naturally to a boy his age. He was frustrated at every turn and when he did try to explain to Mrs Harper that it was all a horrible misunderstanding it all came out wrong and this made Mrs Harper even more determined than ever to help Christopher stick to his ‘decision’ not to masturbate.
“It’s your choice, Christopher,” Mrs Harper said one day, “I think it’s very brave of you. There aren’t many boys your age who would do… or rather not do, as you’ve decided…”
“Yes, Mrs Harper…” Christopher said rather sheepishly.
The truth was that Christopher was at his wit’s end: no clothes and no opportunities to indulge in penis-play. The ‘firing squad’ game in the field had been agonising for Christopher. Having been coerced into firing David’s and Joe’s ‘rifles’ meant he, Christopher, did all the work in wanking his friends, but received none of the rewards. To add insult to injury, Francis, the target of the boys’ fire-power, himself blasted off a wad of boy-cum that landed square on Christopher’s tummy. Christopher was not a happy bunny. With his hands tied behind his back for most of the game, Christopher was unable to clean himself up and had to contend with Francis’ sticky mess as it slithered slowly downwards, leaving a slimy trail between his tummy and thighs. Worse than the feel of the cold cum was that Christopher was only too well aware of what other interpretation could be put on his appearance.
Mrs Harper’s reaction came as no surprise: “Christopher! What have you been up to? Have you been playing with yourself? I thought you told me you didn’t play with yourself like other boys…”
It was hard to get a word in as Mrs Harper admonished Christopher for something he didn’t do, but would have love to have done! Such is the life of a fourteen year old boy... Grown-ups always get hold of the wrong end of the stick, Christopher thought as he tried to tell Mrs Harper that hadn’t done anything wrong. Christopher turned round to ask Terry to corroborate his story, but the youngster had vanished into thin air, leaving him to try and make Mrs Harper understand what had happened. That wasn’t easy as it meant Christopher had to explain his role in the afternoon’s proceeding and he then found himself once more telling Mrs Harper that he didn’t masturbate, so reinforcing his position as the only known boy on the planet who doesn’t grab every opportunity to beat his meat until it squirts.
“Do you promise me you didn’t play with your penis, Christopher?” Mrs Harper asked the embarrassed boy.
“No, Mrs Harper, I didn’t… honest,” Christopher answered.
“And you’ll promise me that you won’t let these other boys tease you and trick you into masturbating?”
“I promise, Mrs Harper,” Christopher replied as he realised he was digging himself ever deeper into a hole. Secretly Christopher yearned for the opportunity to indulge in an uninterrupted session of penis-play.
“Well now that’s settled you better go and get yourself cleaned because I’ve a little surprise for you,” Mrs Harper said.
Christopher did as he was told and ten minutes later presented himself in the kitchen where Mrs Harper had been joined by her daughter Cindy. However long Christopher had been without clothes, he still felt self-conscious about being totally nude in front of Cindy; Mrs Harper he could just about cope with and Terry too since he was boy it didn’t matter so much. But with Cindy it was different. Cindy was a girl; not only a girl, she was an older girl.
Cindy had a way of looking at him that made him feel bonky. And when that happened Cindy’s eyes would travel downwards and her gaze would settle on Christopher’s groin. The longer Cindy’s eyes lingered in that area, the more blood was pumped into Christopher’s corpora cavernosa. Depending on Cindy’s mood, she might simply smile and look away leaving Christopher red-faced and semi-aroused. Other times she might turn to her mother: “Mum… Christopher’s doing it again!” This would be guaranteed to elicit some reproachful words from Mrs Harper.
Christopher knew what to expect. Mrs Harper would say how disappointed she was, “... and you were doing so well today, Christopher. What’s brought this on? I hope you’re not thinking of playing with yourself are you, Christopher? You promised me you didn’t do that sort of thing…”
So, once more Christopher would be forced to tell Mrs Harper, in the presence of her daughter, that he didn’t masturbate, even as he stood in front of them both with his tumescent penis visibly dribling pre-cum. It was horribly embarrassing when that happened. The more he was reproved by Mrs Harper, the more Christopher’s penis would show him up. On occasion his penis might end up fully erect. Christopher simply couldn’t control himself and before he knew it there was a long string of clear boy-goo dangling from the tip of his penis.
“Oh mum… that’s totally gross!” Cindy would exclaim.
This might cause Christopher’s penis to jerk and the string of pre-cum to swing back and stick to Christopher’s thigh.
“Now, Cindy you shouldn’t be too critical... Christopher is trying to keep his naughty penis under control, but sometimes… well, sometimes…”
“But, mum… look at all that stuff leaking out… it’s… it’s… like yuck!”
This would invariably cause even more goo to bubble out of Christopher’s penis, to the point at which Mrs Harper realised something would have to be done. She said nothing, but resolved to speak to a friend, a Mrs Marjorie Wilson, who she knew had experience in these matters and ask if she could suggest anything which might help Christopher.
Back in the kitchen Christopher waited to hear what surprise Mrs Harper had in store for him.
“I’m having a few friends round later,” she said, “Cindy’s invited a couple of her friends as well, so you youngsters won’t be left out of things…”
Christopher looked anxious. The thought of even more people seeing him without any clothes on did not appeal.
“Don’t look so worried, Christopher,” Mrs Harper continued, “I thought you’d like to help so I’ve ordered a waiter’s uniform for you to wear tonight…”
Christopher was thrilled at the thought of a waiter’s uniform to wear and of performing such an important function at Mrs Harper’s party. It was as if his prayers had been answered and he wondered if Mrs Harper would allow him the keep the uniform to wear after the party.
“By the way, Cindy, I’ve invited Marjorie Wilson this evening… you remember Marjorie?”
Cindy shot a glance at Christopher: “Yes, mum…” But before Cindy could say anything else, Mrs Harper went on to tell Christopher that as a waiter he would help by serving snacks to the assembled guests. He could also greet the guests as they arrived and offer them a glass of wine.
Christopher had seen the way Cindy looked at him. It was a bit unnerving and he didn’t know why.
Mrs Harper pointed to the parcel which contained Christopher's waiter’s uniform which was sat on the breakfast bar and told him to open it. But when Christopher came to open the package he was in for a big disappointment. The black bow-tie was there, along with a collar and cuffs, but that was all there was of the waiter’s uniform. Christopher found a packing slip at the bottom of the box. A note on the slip apologised for the absence of the waiter’s apron which was due to a shortage of stock. An apron would be sent out as soon as stock became available. Sadly it seemed as if the vital item, the waiter’s apron, which would have afforded Christopher modest coverage of his boy-bits, would not be to hand that evening. Glumly he handed Mrs Harper the note.
“Oh dear me. Why on earth they bothered sending half the uniform… well, you just have to make do, Christopher,” Mrs Harper said and then tried to cheer Christopher up, “Never mind, Christopher, you’ll have a smart bow-tie to wear and with the collar and cuffs, you’ll look just the part… it’s a shame about the apron, but it’s not the end of the world...”
“But… but, Mrs Harper, won’t your friends be… err, if they see me with nothing on?” Christopher asked, desperate to find a way out of what promised to be his most embarrassing experience since he came to stay with Mrs Harper.
“Oh, don’t even think about it, Christopher. Most of my friends have boys of their own. They’re quite used to seeing boys with no clothes on. Don’t you worry, Christopher, I can assure you no-one will be in the least bit shocked or upset about seeing you in the nude.”
That was not what Christopher wanted to hear. He couldn’t care less what people thought… it was what he felt like that bothered him! The prospect of greeting Mrs Harper’s friends… and some of Cindy’s too by all accounts… wearing nothing more than a black bow-tie, a collar and cuffs was beyond his ability to put into words.
“Now, if you will excuse me, Christopher, I’ve got a lot to do…” Mrs Harper said, signaling to Christopher the end of the conversation.
Cindy picked up the bow-tie and fiddled with it: “Why don’t I help you try on your uniform, Christopher?” she asked.
Wondering what the point of it all was, Christopher allowed Cindy to help him into his waiter’s uniform. Cindy placed the winged collar around Christopher’s neck. It was a tight fit, but Cindy managed to get it done up. Next came the bow-tie. Fortunately for Cindy it was ready-tied and a band went round Christopher's neck to hold it in place. Christopher had never in his life worn a bow-tie before and it felt a bit strange… even more so as it was the only thing he was wearing. Cindy fussed about until she was satisfied the tie was nice and straight. Then she helped Christopher on with the cuffs which slipped easily over his hands and were fixed in place around his wrists with cuff-links Cindy found in the box.
Now Christopher felt even more strange than before. It was if he was sort of dressed and undressed at the same time… until he looked in the mirror and saw how bare he still was. He wondered what Mrs Harper’s guests would make of him. Christopher was distracted by Terry who wandered into the kitchen. Terry had changed out of his cowboy outfit and was now dressed in an unbelievably smart, long-trousered, suit. His hair had been oiled and slicked into shape. Terry didn’t look best pleased, but when he saw Christopher his eyes popped out on stalks.
“Wow! How cool is that!” he said grinning at Christopher dressed in his new costume.
“Terry, I can’t wear this to the party… Can’t you be the waiter?” Christopher said.
“Don’t be silly, Christopher,” Cindy said, “Terry hasn’t the faintest idea how to be a waiter… besides he’d eat all the snacks before they got anywhere near mum’s guests.”
“Hmm… that’s not a bad idea… but… nah… you’ll be much better, Christopher,” Terry decided as he allowed Cindy to straighten his bow-tie.
It wasn’t long before the first guests arrived. They were greeted at the door by Terry who took great delight in welcoming the ladies and then stepping to one side to reveal a very nervous Christopher who stood in the hallway holding a large tray laden with glasses.
“My, Terry, you do look very smart,” Mrs Symes said as she entered the hall, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen…” Mrs Symes paused when she saw Christopher standing in front of her dressed in nothing more than a bow-tie, collar and cuffs.
“This is Christopher,” Terry proudly introduced Mrs Symes to the practically nude boy. “He’s staying with us while his mum’s away,” he explained before adding, “He locked himself out of his house.” Terry thought this an adequate explanation for Christopher’s state of undress. Mrs Symes looked puzzled, so Terry offered some more information. “You see he left all his clothes inside his house…”
Mrs Symes peered at Christopher a little more closely: “Are you a nudist?” she asked.
The glasses on the tray Christopher was holding rattled as he replied: “... err, no… I err… don’t think so…”
Mrs Symes turned to her friend: “Boys…”
“Showing off, d’ye think?” the friend replied as she took two glasses from the tray and gave one to Mrs Symes.
Mrs Symes shrugged her shoulders at her friend’s question. “Shouldn’t think so… but… well, boys…”
This proved to set the tone for the rest of Christopher’s encounters with Mrs Harper’s guests and he had to endure the endless embarrassment of hearing Terry cheerfully repeating the story of how he managed to loose all his clothes.
“So you’ve not got a stitch to wear?” one visitor inquired.
“Umm… no… you see none of Terry’s clothes fit me and…” Christopher replied.
“I let Christopher borrow my Red Indian outfit,” Terry added, “We’ve been playing Cowboys and Indians.”
“Oh, that’s kind of you, Terry,” another guest chipped in as she lightened the load on Christopher’s tray, “I bet you boys have lots of fun.”
Christopher could only blush at the thought of what happened during Cowboys and Indians.
“You bet!” Terry said, “Redskins always lose… me and the other cowboys tie ‘em up and make ‘em talk…”
“... and if they don’t talk?” the lady asked.
“Oh, they always talk!” Terry gloated.
Just then Cindy’s friends arrived. Terry threw open the front door to give the girls an uninterrupted view of Christopher standing in the hallway still holding a tray.
“OMYGOD!!!” Lily squealed when she saw the virtually nude boy. The other girl, Sophie, was so stunned that for two whole minutes she stood unable to speak. Cindy heard Lily’s exclamation and rushed into the hall.
“Omygod… Cindy… it’s true!” Lily said, “He’s… he’s…”
“... Got nothing to wear, have you, Christopher?” Cindy said calmly.
“He’s… like... totally... bare-nude!” Sophie at last managed to splutter before Christopher could say anything.
“Not entirely…” Cindy corrected her friend, “If you care to look closely you’ll see Christopher is wearing the uniform of a waiter… Note the bow-tie,” Cindy pointed towards Christopher’s neck, “He is also wearing collar and cuffs… I’d hardly call that bare-nude, Sophie.”
“But… but I can see his… his thing!” Sophie insisted.
“You mean his penis?” Cindy couldn’t resist correcting her friend. She also knew the effect this sort of discussion would have on Christopher.
And sure enough… “OMYGOD!! It’s moving!!” Sophie screamed as she pointed at Christopher’s penis.
If it hadn’t been for the tray full of glasses, Christopher would have turned and run, but as it was he wouldn’t have got very far, since at that moment Mrs Harper appeared in the hallway.
“What is all this noise about?” she asked.
Sophie apologised. A little short of breath she pointed at Christopher’s penis jerking its way upwards, as if this explained everything.
Terry couldn’t resist the opportunity to show off: “That…? That’s nothing… You wait ‘til it starts to dribble…”
“Terry, that’s enough,” Mrs Harper said before Terry could give anymore details, “Sophie might not want to hear about Christopher’s penis…”
“Aw, mum…” Cindy leapt to her friend’s defence, “Sophie’s seen a penis before… haven’t you, Sophie?”
“Err… well actually…” Sophie blushed.
Cindy and Lily stared wide-eyed at their friend. “You’re kidding me?” Cindy said finally.
Sophie shook her head.
“It’s nothing to make a fuss over,” Mrs Harper said, “I don’t suppose Sophie has a younger brother who likes to play games of Cowboys and Indians...”
Sophie looked at Cindy quizzically. Her expression seemed to say, ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
Cindy understood: “Better ask Christopher…”
“The… err, Indians always lose…” he said.
“We round ‘em up, tie ‘em up and strip ‘em bare!” Terry said gleefully.
“What? Nude?” Sophie asked.
“We sure do, mam… We sure do…” Terry gloated. “You should come and watch… it’s really good fun.”
Yeah… right, Christopher thought, for the Cowboys it’s fun…
Sophie couldn’t believe what she heard. The idea a boy of Christopher’s age would willingly partake in a game of Cowboys and Indians, knowing he was likely to end up stripped nude was, was kind of exciting…
“You… you play Cowboys and Indians with Terry?” Sophie asked Christopher. Christopher nodded. “As a Red Indian?” Again Christopher nodded in reply to Sophie's question.
“... so you end up… er, nude?” Sophie asked.
“Um… yes… a couple of times…” Christopher replied.
“You mean you’ve played more than once?!” Sophie could hardly believe her ears. She’d thought that games of Cowboys and Indians were for younger kids… boys more Terry’s age. She was definitely going to talk to Cindy about this and find out why she hadn’t been told about Terry’s way of playing Cowboys and Indians.
In the meantime all this talk was taking its toll on Christopher. He was still standing in the hallway of Mrs Harper’s house dressed in nothing more than a bow-tie, collar and cuffs, holding a tray which still had on it a few glasses. As Sophie had so startlingly announced, Christopher’s penis, to his intense embarrassment, had slowly and remorselessly stiffened until it was now fully erect.
Mrs Harper spoke: “Why don’t you put down the tray on the table over there, Christopher?” then she turned and called down the hallway, “Marjorie! Would you mind coming here a minute…” she turned back, “Stay here, Christopher… I want Mrs Wilson to have a little look at you… it won’t take a moment.”
Mrs Wilson appeared.
“This is Christopher,” Mrs Harper said by way of introduction.
“Yes… I met Christopher when I arrived,” Marjorie Wilson explained, “I take it Christopher is the boy you mentioned when we spoke on the telephone?”
“He is and I’d like you to give me some advice. You see…” Mrs Harper began.
Right on cue Christopher’s penis began to dribble. A string of pre-cum formed which hung from the tip of Christopher’s foreskin.
“Oh dear… is this happening a lot?” Mrs Wilson asked.
“I’m afraid that it is…” Mrs Harper replied
“Hmm…” Mrs Wilson said thoughtfully, “We may have to take steps… Would you mind if I asked Christopher one or two questions?”
“Of course not… go right ahead,” Mrs Harper replied.
“Christopher, I want you to think carefully,” Mrs Wilson said as she looked the nervous boy, “Can you remember when you last had an emission? You know what I mean by an emission, don’t you?”
Christopher nodded shyly in answer to Mrs Wilson’s second question. This was more embarrassing than ever, what with Mrs Harper, Cindy and her friends standing there watching… not forgetting Terry who was positively agog with excitement.
“Well…?” Mrs Wilson prompted Christopher when no answer to her first question was forthcoming, “When did you last produce…”
“OMYGOD!!” It was Sophie squealing again as more pre-cum bubbled from Christopher’s penis to form a string of boy-goo which stretched nearly halfway to the floor. Cindy, who was by now used to seeing the results of Christopher’s excitement, told her friend to be quiet so they could listen to what Mrs Wilson had to say.
After further prompting Christopher told Mrs Wilson how he’d last ejaculated a few days before he came to stay with Mrs Harper.
“I see,” Mrs Wilson said as she calculated how long it had been, “... and did you make yourself ejaculate…?”
It was Mrs Harper’s turn to speak: “Christopher doesn’t masturbate, Marjorie… he told me so himself.”
“I see,” Mrs Wilson repeated herself, “so it would have been an involuntary emission… I see...” she paused and thought for a few moments before turning to Mrs Harper, “How long has Christopher been… er, dribbling like this?”
“On and off… I should say more or less since he came to stay with us, wouldn't you say, Cindy?” Mrs Harper replied.
Cindy agreed with her mother. Sophie found it difficult to believe: “You mean he… this stuff… he’s been… it’s been... yuck!”
Mrs Wilson came to a decision: “Christopher needs to be milked… and sooner rather than later… before he has another involuntary emission and judging by his state of excitement, that could happen at any time… Is there somewhere I could take Christopher… it’s a simple procedure… the kitchen say? Would that be alright? It shouldn’t take long if Christopher cooperates…”
“I’m sure that would be fine,” Mrs Harper replied.
“Can I watch?” Terry asked eagerly.
“Well… I’m not sure,” Mrs Wilson answered, “You’d better ask your mother…”
“Please, mum… Can I watch Mrs Wilson milking Christopher?” Terry asked, “I’ve not seen anyone being milked before… Please let me watch, mum.”
Christopher was dumbfounded. All this talk of him being ‘milked’, whatever that entailed, and he wasn’t even being asked whether he wanted it done. Now Terry saying he wanted to watch!
“Please, Mrs Harper,” Christopher began, “I’m not sure… can’t I just… er, let it… y’know…”
“It’s too late for that, Christopher,” Mrs Wilson said firmly, “I’m sure Mrs Harper doesn’t want you to have an involuntary emission and… well you have to think of what might happen and there’s her soft furnishings to consider… You wouldn’t want to make a mess all over everything now would you?”
Christopher hung his head. Why was it that grown-ups always knew best? “Um, no… I guess not…” he mumbled, but still not convinced he wanted to be ‘milked’.
“That’s a good boy,” Mrs Wilson said, “... and you’ll come along to the kitchen?” Christopher nodded reluctantly. “And we can get rid of all that messy boy-stuff.”
So they all trooped down the hall towards the kitchen. Mrs Wilson took Christopher by the hand and led him past the living-room door through which Mrs Harper’s guests could be seen.
Mrs Wilson called out to one of her friends: “Shan’t be a moment Sylvia… I’m just taking Christopher into the kitchen… this is Christopher… he needs to be milked… say ‘hello’, Christopher…” Christopher did as he was told and politely greeted Mrs Wilson’s friend even though they had recently met at the front door.
“Why not milk him in here?” Sylvia suggested, “Pop him up on the coffee table… perfect height… put a towel and a bowl down… get him milked in no time and you won’t miss out on on the gossip I’ve been hearing since you were called into the hall… What about it, eh?”
There were half a dozen of Mrs Harper’s guests gathered in the living-room. None of them demurred at the prospect of the bow-tied Christopher being relieved of his build-up of boy-stuff in their presence. Indeed most of the ladies carried on chatting, as if there was nothing at all out of the ordinary for a virtually nude teenage boy to be milked in their company.
However, for Christopher it was anything but an everyday experience to be shoo’d into the living-room along with Cindy and her friends Sophie and Lily, along with Mrs Harper and Terry bringing up the rear. Now there was no question of whether Terry could watch the proceedings, as it was perfectly clear that everyone would be able the see Christopher being milked.
Christopher looked at Mrs Harper. He was more nervous than ever. “Don’t worry, Christopher, it will be alright and you’ll feel much better afterwards,” Mrs Harper assured him, then added, “Mrs Wilson is very experienced in these matters…”
A towel was produced and laid across the coffee table. Christopher was told to climb onto the table and to kneel on his hands and knees. Christopher was now so nervous that his penis had gone almost completely soft and, with his legs apart, could be seen hanging limply between his thighs. The procedure turned into a sort of ad hoc lecture and demonstration by Mrs Wilson on the best way of dealing with what she called, ‘over-productive schoolboys’. There was a lot of talk among the ladies of how they had caught sons, some of them ‘red-handed’, in the act of self-abuse, or of bedding stained by boy’s ‘emissions’. The extra work caused by these thoughtless and self-indulgent boys was a popular topic and so attention was given to ways in which this work could be lessened by controlling what Mrs Wilson called the ‘baser instincts’ of boys.
In the meantime an anxious Christopher waited on his hands and knees on the coffee table.
It would be best to draw a discreet veil over the precise details of the milking procedure adopted by Mrs Wilson. Suffice to place on record that Christopher received absolutely no pleasure from the manipulation required to stimulate the emission of the product of his over-active testicles. Christopher’s semen, of which there was a seemingly endless amount, continued to dribble into a bowl placed under his penis as Mrs Wilson encouraged him to “let it all out, dear…”.
Christopher was aware of the voices all around him. Some of the ladies continued to discuss local events such as the forthcoming flower show, while others asked Mrs Wilson questions about her milking technique… and all the while Christopher, still wearing his waiter’s bow-tie, winged-collar and cuffs, was on his hands and knees on Mrs Harper’s coffee table undergoing the most unbelievably embarrassing ordeal he could’ve imagined.
Cindy, familiar as she was with Christopher’s problematic penis, found herself speechless when she saw the sheer volume of fluid emanating from the dangling organ. Lily and Sophie, however thought the sight ‘ultra, ultra gross’ and stood in what looked like a state of joint shock. But instead of averting their eyes, they stared between Christopher’s legs like two rabbits transfixed by the headlights of a car.
Terry watched eagerly. Amazed that Christopher was able to produce so much cum… possibly more than all the cum he had seen that afternoon… “Awesome… just totally, totally awesome!!” was his verdict.