Meryl Lee - The younger the better

"You'll see." Denise pushed him toward a room off the side of the improvised dungeon. "Get into your costume first, so you can get used to the feel of it."

Not a trace of mirth in her eyes, he noticed. In fact, it was an altogether different Denise than the wild witch who had driven him to such sexual extremes in this very room several weeks earlier. It could be all on the up-and-up, he thought, as he pulled off his clothes and tried on the snug briefs. He wished a mirror was around someplace to see if he looked ridiculous, but he felt a curious indifference to how he looked. Somehow he knew he could be sexually indifferent this night, no matter how provocative the sexy trio tried to be. He was sure they'd try something. Like even what they'd given him to wear. Nudie panties! He'd bet they belonged to one of the Pritchard females. The thought they might be Pammy's sent an involuntary shiver racing up his spine.

"So, how do I look?" He stepped back into the room and affected a weightlifter pose, body profiled, one arm bent, the other resting on his hip.

"Beautiful!" exclaimed Pammy, darting to his side to test the muscle of his upper arm. "I do believe we have a man here, Mommy."

"I'd say so."

Denise felt the tingle of lust touch every nerve under her satin cocktail gown. The panties Bryan wore were her own. The way they were filled now was just as Denise had expected when she selected her snuggest fit. His well-stocked testicles alone would nearly fill the panties. His formidable penis bent and limp was a coiled snake clearly visible in the container. Denise wondered how the elastic nylon would hold when the inevitable happened.

"Here's how the music sounds." She turned on the record player and lighthearted notes burst on a strangely hushed trio of girls and the lone male.

It was a recording of Celeste's last performance… "Now you shall dance for my reward." Lovely dramatic soprano perfection… notes reaching happily… "…and you will see, my lord, the dance you shall dance is of my own invention…!"

"There's where the lights come up behind the scrim to let the audience see you two. Pamela, you are to pantomime as Carmen and you are Don Jose, Bryan. We'll begin with her throwing the noose under your shoulders. Tie his wrists, Sandy!" Denise was suddenly imperious.

A minute later Bryan, clad only in the scanty girl panties, was penduluming from the rope flung over a rafter, twisting and turning to the will of the rope and the sting of the cat o' nine tails.

"Hey… hey, wait! Is that really s'posed to be the way…?"

"Shusshh! Prisoner!" Pammy lashed at his bared back and he arched in unpretending reflex to the sting. "Improvise, Celeste said. So we improvise till she gets here to make it very earthy and very sensual."

"Wow! Hey… this is tough to take!"

"Bryan!" Pammy stared in mock indignation at the instant swelling of his penis in response to her stinging with the cat. The surprise in her eyes was pure mischief. "Bryan Quinby, you stop that this instant! There's no need to get bothered!" But there was and everyone knew it – especially Pammy. Inside, she felt the most bothered of all for that gorgeous lovely sex meat he was mounting.

A mixture of wild emotions stormed Bryan as the controls went. He knew he wanted to stay soft, to play the pantomime cleanly, indifferently… he knew there was no way that was about to happen, unless he turned supercool man. With the way things were going inside his head and his hypered body, it was going to be wildness everywhere. The crawling certainty took him that he didn't care now. Sweating to the giveaway signs urging against the thin cover they'd given him, he really wanted to keep it down, but everyone else wanted it up. Staring down his front, he glared at his half-inflated erection, still contained miraculously by frantically stretched nylon girl panties. Last desperate willing the hardening to stop. It refused to go away.

"Sandy, you get into the act with Pammy!" exclaimed Denise. "In the scene Don Jose swings overhead while a sad Carmen needs comforting. She's leaving her lover to escape and he'll be disciplined, maybe killed, by his superiors. Then off at one side two of Don Jose's guards will be cavorting and wrestling."

"Who's to do that?" demanded Pammy, curious that she hadn't heard her mother speak of others in the act. "Thought only me 'n' Bryan were in it."

"Just to divert attention from Mister Bothered here, I think we'll add more characters on stage." She hurried to the door of the barn. "I heard Celeste's car in the driveway now, I think. Maybe she'll have an idea on it, but you, Sandy, you're Carmen's maid-in-waiting, comforting her and helping her whip Don Jose into his dance in the air." She paused to look back at the urgent flesh pressing Bryan's translucent girl panties into a grotesque bulge. Once Celeste was on the scene, her prisoner would be soaring high, wide and ready!

"That's gorgeous, Bryan!" shrieked Sandy as she peeled her mini and emerged in black lace scanty panties and teeny bra. "Hit him harder, Pammy!"

Sprawled indolently beneath her prisoner on the rope, irritated at the idea of newcomers in the act, Pammy wielded the whip with devastating effectiveness. Her lashes were slightly painful, but massively erotic in their sting. Bryan's penis, storming to total erection, leaped from the top of the thin nylon panties and straight-armed the air, helpless and unattended.

Below and slightly to the side, the girls cuddled in pretended solace of each other, but their compassion was more seduction than sympathy. The whip dropped from Pammy's hand as Sandy peeled halter and panties from her frame and kissed her way across thrusting breasts and down her midriff, watching Bryan all the while. Pammy let Sandy's lip love creep closer and closer to her vulva.

It was ultimate torture to a captive Bryan to be hung like a side of beef above the girl-play. His phallus, swollen but obviously uninteresting to them, danced in rigid protest from the front of his body and he felt the pulsing of near spontaneous combustion to the entwined pair on the floor.

"How nice!" Denise's cry from the door caused only the slightest pause. "Who, may I ask, is guarding Carmen's prisoner?"

"But, Mommy, this is so much more fun," squealed Sandy, looking beyond her mother for the expected guest. "Hi, Celeste! Heard the real Carmen was coming." Neither awe nor embarrassment in her being caught in lesby embrace by the newcomer. Denise had already shared her play with the superstar with her daughters. She was one of them. "You take Pammy's whip and beat on Don Jose Bryan. That'll make it just like the opera." Sandy was dragged back to play by an impatient Pammy. She thought her mother had been teasing about the way she and Celeste would appear.

A dangling Bryan, refused cooperation by the one part of his body he wished would dangle, hung hopelessly aroused to the inspection by the new arrivals. He gawked, helplessly intrigued by the strange near-total cover worn by Celeste and donned by Denise before her return to the barn. Both wore three-quarter length mink stoles, crossed over at the waist and revealing they were undoubtedly nude beneath.

"You're very pretty, Bryan." Celeste stood directly under the swaying figure, watching the awkward penduluming of his hard-on as if it was the most ordinary occurrence she had seen all day. "Denise suggests we act out a secondary pantomime at the side and we make-believe we're guards of Don Jose's prison detail. See, we'll wrestle around and make like the tough men who will be punishin' you, once Carmen's escape is discovered."

"Some tough!" croaked Bryan contemptuously. "Who ever heard of guards in mink?"

"That's to cover our manhood." Celeste flung aside the mink stole and stood arms and legs akimbo in full view of the dumbfounded prisoner. Her dazzling female glories glowed in ivory perfection under the harsh naked bulb… and there at her groin was a devastating, tantalizing contradiction to the luscious torrid woman-body. A great white shaft capped with a frighteningly real red crown ramrodded from the total woman wildness of her lower body. He gaped at the same devastating display attached to an equally inflaming Denise.