The Toyboy Experiment

TUESDAY

We had lunch on his balcony, the two of us sitting there in shorts and shirts like a father and son on holiday. Then after we'd had a read and a brief snooze in the afternoon heat, he woke me by tapping me on my knee. I opened my eyes and he was leaning over me in his shorts, bare-chested, smiling.

"Let's start," he said.

I smiled back, nervous, and got up. I followed him into the room, which was cool from a metal fan whirring away on a side-table.

He led me into the bedroom.

"Okay," he said. "Alex, just take off your clothes and lie on the bed."

I obediently undressed, removing my shirt, shorts and briefs, and then I lay down, naked. It was oddly like going to the doctor, except that no doctor had ever asked me to strip naked.

I looked up at him, docile and curious and excited.

"You probably know a lot about women's bodies," he said. "More than I do, I'm sure, and what I know comes from what I've read or what I've been told, not from personal experience. But I can tell you that the male body has a lot of erogenous zones. You know what they are?"

"Yeah," I said. "Places that are easily stimulated."

"Exactly," he said. "It varies from person to person, but for pretty much everyone it's the lips . . ."

He touched my lips with his finger.

"The genitals . . ."

He stroked my semi-erect cock and I gave a little gasp. He parted my legs slightly stroked between them and I quivered and sighed.

"Then there's the perineum, which I see in your case is unusually sensitive . . ."

I nodded, blushing.

"Now roll over."

I rolled onto my belly and he kneaded my buttocks gently.

"And the buttocks," he said.

"Mmmm," I agreed. He laughed, and then his fingers brushed the cleft of my buttocks and I gasped again.

"Then there's the anus," he said, pushing a finger between my warm buttocks, slightly damp with sweat, and touching my arsehole. I squirmed gently, rubbing my cock into the mattress.

"Some people don't feel pleasure from anyone else touching their anus, but clearly you do," he said. "That's rare and valuable. Your anus is obviously a major erogenous zone for you."

"Yes," I gasped, wanting him to do more.

"There's also another very important one inside your anus," he said, "but before we get to it, we have to make sure that you're clean. Did you use the bathroom after lunch?"

"Yes," I said, blushing a little. "I'm very regular."

"Good," he said, "but we want to make sure you're really clean, and I think that you're not unfamiliar with how we're going to do it. Put this on and let me do the work."

He handed me a cheap, navy blue nylon sleep mask of the kind you can buy in airports.

"Why?" I asked.

"I want you to start focusing your attention to inside your rectum," he said. "Blindfolding is a good way to do it."

"All right," I said and put it on.

"Plus," he said, "I like blindfolding naked men and doing naughty things to them." I giggled and blushed. I felt very vulnerable, lying prone and naked on John's bed.

"This is going to test your muscular control as well as clean you out," he said. "I'm going to give you an enema."

"Ooohh," I sighed.

"And when you feel full I want you to hold it in as long as possible. I have a bedpan you can use to empty yourself into but only when I tell you, all right?"

"Okay," I said, feeling apprehensive and more than a little embarrassed.

"Here's the tube," he said, and he smeared some gel around my anus and then I felt him pushing at me with a piece of something like plastic hosing.

"Mmm," I grunted in protest.

"Take it," he insisted.

"Ohh god," I gasped as I forced myself to relax, and he fed the tube into my rectum.

"I'm going to turn it on now," he said. "I'd like you to tell me how it feels so I can gauge how full you are."

"Okay," I said, "nothing yet . . . still nothing . . . still nothing . . . ooohhh, there it is . . . ohhhh . . . oh god it's really filling me up, I . . . ohhh, don't know if I can take anymore . . . ohh, John, please, no more, that's enough . . ."

"A little bit more," he said.

"Please," I begged, "I don't want to mess up your bed, I . . . ahhhh fuck, I . . . ooooh . . . ooooh, oh god, I . . . ooooh! Please!"

"Okay," he said and I felt the unbelievable volume of fluid in my bowel stop growing, and the tube was gently removed. The pressure was intense and it was incredibly humiliating. I was shaking with the effort of keeping my anus tightly shut and stopping what felt like about a gallon of now-dirty water from squirting out all over John's clean sheets.

"There," he said. "That's about a pint."

"That's only a pint?! God, it feels more like a gallon. Ohhhh . . ."

"Plenty of women have this every day," he said mildly. "They just call it colonic irrigation."

"Just tell me when I can use the bedpan, okay?" I pleaded.

"You're doing very well," he said. "I'm very pleased."

"Thank you," I said meekly. He grabbed my hand and squeezed it, and I lay on the bed, breathing heavily, sweating and trembling with the effort of keeping my ass closed.

I heard nothing for a while and I guessed that he was timing me, and then at last he spoke.

"All right, I'll help you up", he said, and lifted me up to my feet and guided me, blindfolded as I still was, to the bedpan and sat me on it. At once I gasped,

"Aahhhh!", I gasped, flushing crimson with humiliation as the pint of water squirted from my ass into the pan. When I was empty John wiped me, then he guided me to the bed again and gave me another, smaller enema until he pronounced me entirely clean. He wiped me again and then wiped my ass once more with what felt like baby wipes, then he led me to the bed and had me lie down again, still with the sleep-mask over my eyes.

I was sweating and I knew I was red-faced from a combination of humiliation and effort. But then I heard John's soothing voice.

"Alex, you're doing wonderfully well. Now comes the reward."

I felt him smearing generous quantities of gel over my throbbing anus and I sighed with something like pleasure and relief. Then he rolled me onto my back and lifted my legs in the air and started massaging my anus with his finger. I moaned.

"Alex," he said, "when we were fucking last night, there was a moment at the end when it suddenly became more intense, wasn't there?"

"Y-yes," I gasped.

"That's because my cock touched something inside you," he said. "Your prostate gland. It's very important because it helps create semen." I felt my loosened anus loosening further, and he slipped his middle finger inside me and I felt him feeling around. I whimpered. I was rock hard. I put my fingers around my cock and he gently but decisively removed them with his other hand. I laid my hands flat on the bed, squirming and whimpering as his finger moved around inside my exposed anus.

"If you massage the prostate," he said, "sometimes, something very remarkable happens."

I felt his hand remove my sleep-mask and I blinked and focused on my naked body and him, still in his shorts, manipulating me. I looked at him in surprise.

"This," he said.

He touched something inside me, and I couldn't help it -- an uncontrollable orgasm seemed to explode from where he touched me, and I shut my eyes and cried out.

"AAAAAUUGHH!", and my body flexed from the waist, pumping my hips forward, and I opened my eyes just in time to see my erect cock shooting thick ropes of semen all the way up my body and splashing over my face.

"Mffblllbl!" I spat in surprise -- it was in my eyes and on my forehead and some of it had got in my open mouth. For the umpteenth time that day I went crimson with humiliation, but I had also yet another high-definition surround-sound orgasm at John's command. He pulled his finger deftly out of my anus and left me lying limp and sticky on the bed.

"Oh god," I gasped, "I haven't come in my own face since I was seventeen."

"I could just keep doing that to you all day, every half an hour or so," he said, grinning, "and I'd make you come every time. Eventually you'd need to eat something, and my hand would get tired, but it's an automatic reflex. Nothing you can do to stop it." He handed me a baby wipe and I wiped the semen from my face and hair. I still had some in my mouth and was trying to get it off my tongue when John said "It's your cum. You may as well swallow it."

I giggled, and did so. It tasted a bit like mildly salty, undercooked egg white. He gave me a drink of water and a peach and we sat back, me naked, he still in his shorts, to rehydrate and eat fruit. He pulled out a gay sex manual and flipped through it. Some of the illustrations made my eyes widen.

"Are we going to do all that stuff?" I said.

"Some of it," he smiled. He came to a picture of the interior structure of the anus and rectum.

"So now I know that you have good control of your anal muscle," he said, pointing to the relevant area. "That's very important, because a lot of what you can do to another man is about using that control. When a man is inside you, you can squeeze his cock with that muscle and it maximises the stimulation for him. It's called 'milking'. I'm sure you can see why."

I flushed pink and rolled my eyes.

"And if you like," he said, "I think that the best way for me to show you why it's so pleasurable is to do it for you."

I stared at him.

"You want me to fuck you?" I said.

"Would that be so awful?" he said in mock sorrow.

"No! No. I suppose . . . I've never been tempted."

"It's not something I do very often," he said, "but if you're going to know how it should feel. I think it's important."

"Okay," I said. John got off the bed, put the manual aside and stripped off, then he got back on the bed and we came together, kissing.

Twenty minutes later, he was on all fours and I was kneeling behind him, nervous, about to enter his well-lubricated, loosened anus with my glistening cock. I had already had my finger inside him and was surprised that I'd managed to get hard at all, having already come twice that day.

"Okay," John gasped, crouching before me, "now you can start to fuck me."

I pushed my cock at John's dark, tight anus and I watched him breathing deeply and making himself relax, and he let out a low sighing moan as I penetrated him.

"Oh god," he said quietly. "So good."

I started to pump slowly into him, and he moved his hips back and forth, responding to my rhythm. It was tight inside his ass but I found that the sight of his rear end -- tanned, masculine and lean -- didn't turn me on. I closed my eyes and imagined a woman, such as the tall and rather languid blonde girl in her late teens I'd seen on the beach a few days earlier; she had very fair skin and hair that was almost white and she had sat on the beach and read a book and then sunbathed and then stalked into the sea and dived forward and swum by herself for an hour while I had kept an eye on her.

It didn't take long for me to get aroused by the thought of the blonde girl being on all fours before me while I fucked her -- and then I felt my cock being expertly squeezed and massaged and, my eyes tight shut and in almost appalled disbelief, I felt myself coming for the third time that day, and John's ass was drawing the cum out of me, as I let myself go inside him and he groaned with pleasure.

I pulled out of him carefully and he lay on the bed, prone, and I collapsed next to him.

"Be honest," he said, panting, "you weren't thinking of me when you came, were you?"

"No," I admitted, breathless.

"Were you thinking of a woman?"

"Yes."

"Hmmm." His red, perspiring face watched me for a moment, then he smiled.

"It's only natural. You've always preferred women, after all. Maybe that's something that we can think about. In the meantime, though, I wonder if you don't deserve a little punishment."

"Punishment?" I said, blushing and smiling.

"Yes," he said. "A little touch of humiliation for thinking of someone else while you're with me."

"As long as it's not painful," I said, wondering what on earth he could have in mind.

"It won't hurt anything except your dignity," he said. "Let's have a shower."

We showered off together. I washed him tenderly, grateful that he'd given me the chance to fuck him; it made me feel like our relationship was a little more equal than it had been. We embraced and kissed in the shower and once again it felt quite natural to let this older man put his arms around me and hold my naked body to his, our cocks touching as the warm water poured over us, me sighing gently as his tongue pushed into my mouth and he reminded me once again that he was the seducer, I the seduced.

I spent the rest of the day reading and being rather shamefacedly turned on by gay erotica that he gave me. We went out and had another romantic dinner, but then he went to bed early, saying that he was tired, but promising that the next day would be one that I wouldn't forget in a hurry.

I stayed up late reading, a little mystified, but when I went to bed at midnight, easing my naked body between the sheets, he put his arms around me and I slept.

WEDNESDAY

We woke up and cuddled a bit, but when I went to make a move, John just smiled and got out of bed.

"No," he said. "Today's the day for your punishment."

"Are you still angry with me?" I asked.

"I'm not angry," he said. "I just want to get you onto the same page. Don't worry," he added, kissing me on the lips and smiling. "It'll all work out."

After breakfast we went shopping. I was wearing clothes he'd given me to wear; a polo shirt and shorts that displayed my legs. I felt a bit like it was my uniform as a man who was now visibly the partner of another man -- or was it all that visible? I wasn't sure. The town was heaving with tourists and among them were one or two same-sex couples, but if John knew them, he didn't acknowledge them.

We got bread and salad and deli food and cold meats and sparkling water and wine, and then we put it all in the back of his car and we drove out of town, along the coastline.

"Where are we going?" I asked. He smiled.

"You'll see," he said.

After half an hour of increasingly twisty roads, we pulled up at a gate and he got me to open it and drove through. Inside, some flat ground was covered with a dozen or so cars. I took the picnic basket out of the boot and John took my hand, openly for the first time in public, and led me down a sandy path through some trees to a beach.

It was clearly a private beach, but John behaved as though he had access and the few people who acknowledged him smiled and greeted him in a friendly way -- and glanced at me with a smile too. I smiled back, tentatively, but as we walked to a clear area, I couldn't help noticing that every couple on the beach was same-sex.

And of those same-sex couples, one of them was usually naked.

My stomach fluttered as I began to get an inkling of what it was John had in mind as 'punishment'.

"Here we are," he said, stopping at a bit of sand that had two recliners on it. "You can put the stuff down."

I placed the bags on the sand and John reached into one of them and took out a bottle of sunscreen. We'd put some on before we left the house ninety minutes earlier, and we shouldn't have needed much more.

"All right, Alex," he said, smiling at me. "Take off all your clothes and lie down."

That's when it fully dawned on me. This beach was where John and his friends went when they wanted to display their toys to each other.

"All of them," I asked faintly.

"All of them," he said firmly. I could see a few of the nearby couples watching us with amusement; a few yards away, a gorgeous young naked guy, lying on his stomach next to a large-bellied man in swimming trunks, was watching me through his long eyelashes, and I thought I saw him give me a wry smile; hey, pal, suck it up, this is what happens.

Still, it was one of my basic nightmares, to be naked among a group of complete strangers, and only John's calm authority and the presence of a dozen or naked men and women made it seem natural. I nervously took off my shirt, then my sandals, and folded them, placing them in a bag; then I slid down my shorts and put them away too.

The last barrier between me and total exposure was the tight pair of Speedos I'd put on before lunch. Resignedly, and blushing all over, I loosened them and rolled them off my hips, keeping eye contact with John, who smiled unexpectedly as I got naked. He held out his hand and I gave them to him.

"As long as we're on this beach," he said, "you won't be needing them," and he stuffed them deep into another bag.

Feeling awkward and exposed, I sat on the recliner.

"Lie back," said John. "I'll put sunscreen on you."

I lay on my back, feeling acutely embarrassed, my cock and balls on display for anyone to see, and I shut my eyes as John gently but firmly massaged sunscreen into my naked body.

"All right," he murmured after a few minutes, "now, on your belly." I rolled onto my stomach, feeling slightly more protected, and his strong hands rubbed sunscreen into my back and thighs and bare bottom. He handed me a book and a pair of sunglasses and I read for a while, accustoming myself to sunbathing naked on a beach.

"Hello John," said a female voice. I felt myself blushing, and glanced up.

Two women were standing nearby, each in light summer dresses, one of them in her mid-40s, they other about ten years younger.

"Hello," said John warmly, and he got up and embraced them.

"This is my friend Alex," he said, indicating me. They smiled down at me. They were indeed a couple, Janice and Andrea, although they clearly didn't have the same master-toy relationship that John and I had. I lay naked on my stomach and managed to make some small chat, as if I were totally used to hanging out naked with a clothed man old enough to be my dad. Then, to my mortification, John insisted that they hang out and have some lunch, and they accepted.

There was nothing for it; I had to sit up and start handing out plates and knives, stark naked as I was. Janice and Andrea behaved as though it were perfectly normal. After a while it even started seeming normal, as we ate the delicious food and drank the cold sparkling water and wine from the cooler. I avoided the wine, wanting to stay sober, but Janice and Andrea had a couple of glasses each and sure enough, the conversation eventually got around to me.

"How did you meet?" asked Andrea. She was the younger of the two, a handsome and voluptuous young woman with a bob of black hair and a ready smile.

"Yesterday," I admitted, "on the beach. We sort of it hit it off."

"John is very disarming," Janice said, patting my bare arm affectionately.

"Alex has never been with a man before," said John mischievously, and he smiled as I blushed crimson.

"You're very lucky," said Janice. "John is about as good as you can get."

"I feel lucky," I said, and John smiled at me, more warmly.

"John," added Janice, "is the only man I've ever been to bed with. This was a hundred years ago, before I realised that it wasn't something I really wanted to do. But I have to admit, he almost convinced me."

"Convinced you of what?" said Andrea, grinning.

"I 'm just saying," Janice said primly, sipping her wine, "he's the only man who's ever managed to persuade me that there's anything useful about a penis."

"I can see I'll have to watch you," said Andrea, in mock indignation, and she laughed.

"You have nothing to worry about," John said, and stroked my arm. "I'm fully occupied with this one at the moment."

"Are you?" said Janice, and glanced at me sidelong.

"For someone who's never been with a man before," said John, "he's surprisingly talented at it."

"I'm sitting here," I said, smiling despite my burning face, "do you mind?" John laughed and kissed me on the cheek.