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TrivialPursuit
The following is intended for adult readers who want to
read fiction about and women in adult situations.
Anybody who is not legally permitted to view such material
should read no further. All rights to this are
reserved by the author. Permission is given to archive
this in places where no fees are charged for legal
adults to view it and if no words are changed, including
this disclaimer. Hope you enjoy.
It Started As A Trivial Pursuit...
by Hector's Pup
hectorspup@hotmail.com
With your indulgence I'll relate the circumstances around
the day that changed my life forever. In the early
eighties, there were the two of us and three other couples
on our block that had a lot in common. We were upwardly
mobile, without children yet, and into fitness and activity.
At first the couples consisted of my Carol and I, our
neighbors to the right, Jeff and Marcy, and the couple
across the street from them, Wade and Susan. Every weekend,
and some week nights, we would get together with one or
more couples for fun on the town, back yard barbecues, or
just hanging out.
Then a new couple moved in across the street from our
neighbor to our left, whom we were all intrigued with.
Bill was an accountant and Sandra was a fox. We didn't see
much of Bill because he was always working inside or
something. Sandra, however, was the one who washed the
cars, mowed the lawn, and actually used saw, hammer and
nails. When she was outside, she attracted one or more of
us to figure out a way to make conversation with her. It
was clear that we were going to get Bill and Sandra in our
group somehow.
Ours was the more central house location so we invited
everyone over for a potluck barbecue. It was a warm summer
night, so the beer was flowing and we were having a good
time. Bill and Sandra were kind of quiet but sociable. We
had to draw information out of them as nothing was freely
volunteered.
After dinner, with the beers still flowing, we decided on
the group activity of the then popular game, "Trivial
Pursuit". We first started out as couple teams. Then
Sandra said in a kittenish way, "Why don't we play
against guys?"
This unexpected spontaneity on Sandra's part sparked a new
energy in the room. We quickly agreed and the
conversation steered around the respective bravado of the
teams regarding the game. At a perfectly timed moment,
Sandra said, "Why don't we all put our money where our
mouths are?"
The posturing built up in a crescendo until out of my
Carol's mouth came, "Why don't we play 'strip Pursuit'?"
Everyone became instantly silent, and Carol turned beet red,
just as surprised at what she had said as everyone else was
by it.
We started a huddle as did the gals. The debate went
on for a few minutes. The opportunity to see each other's
wives naked was clouding our thinking. Heads would
independently pop out of each huddle looking across to the
spouses presumably imagining the future possibilities.
When agreement was reached, the rules were debated and
hashed out to the point that a "pie piece" would mean shoes,
socks, shirt, pants, bra or tee-shirt, and finally,
or underwear with a dance, respectively. It could have
ended right there, because for me just the thought of the
possibilities was enough fantasy food for the rest of the
summer.
Our living room was laid out perfectly for this challenge,
with two love-seats facing each other and a coffee table in
between. We actually moved the love-seats back so some of
us could sit on the floor by the table. With the energy of
a close "Super Bowl", we began to play the game. The women
won our shoes, socks and shirts before we won their shoes.
Then they won our pants before we won their socks, for those
that wore them. All we could think about was seeing Sandra
and the others sans clothing. Now that we had them barefoot,
we began to get aroused, and stiffening was apparent in the
briefs and boxers.
It was not our destiny this night, though, as the homemaker,
Marcy, easily got the entertainment piece to seal our
fate. All of sudden, it was difficult for each of us to
swallow. We collectively went from pale to flushed, as we
realized our task at hand. We all wanted out of the deal.
We all knew we wouldn't have let the women out, so we took
solace in the fact that it was happening to all of us rather
than just one. We tried to talk our way out of it, since
they should have had their fun just getting us to this point,
and we didn't voluntarily get up and do what was required of
us until we were directed to do so.
When directed, we stood in a line in front of the fireplace.
We waited for Carol to put on some disco music and
started to dance. When we all started to put our thumbs in
the waistband of our underwear, Sandra said, "No boys. One
at a time. You first Bill. Step out in front." Bill did
so without hesitation and clumsily danced and slid down his
boxers to his ankles and stepped out of them, tossed them to
Sandra and stepped back in line.
The women were beside themselves with glee. This victory was
sweeter for them than they had imagined. Marcy then said,
"Come on Jeffy-boy. Your turn honey." Jeff got up and tried
to dance as sexy as he could, undulating his stomach, and
pulled down his briefs and handed them out for Marcy to pick
up from him. Marcy got up and took the briefs from him and
patted his butt as he turned and walked back in line, making
the comment, "Always did like this butt."
Then there was me, and I was so much in shock, I can barely
remember what I did. And finally, Wade came forward, still
in a competitive mood, and tried to out class us in his
performance. The women went wild as he prolonged the
inevitable teasing as best he could.
Well, we were completely nude in front of our wives and
neighbors. The embarrassment and humiliation was intense.
But, the women hadn't completely won yet. In fact we hadn't
thought that far. We had just thought about getting the
other side naked. We wanted to play on and get as much
clothing off the women as possible. Of course it was a
long shot, but we wanted some measure of payback. So we
decided on the stakes of a night of sexual slavery to the
winners. We figured that we were acquiescing to the makings
of an orgy and had no particular reservations about it.
Of course the women won. Alas we did not score anymore
clothing. It was Friday and relatively late in the evening
so our wives didn't want to waste our servitude on a short
evening. So preparations were hashed out for tomorrow
evening starting at 6:00 at Bill and Sandra's. We were to
be prompt, we were to address each of the wives as
"Mistress" plus their first name, speak only when prompted
to speak, and to do exactly as we were told for the evening.
Part 2 -
It was 5:50 and Jeff and Wade met me at my house so we
could go over together. We downed a couple of stiff drinks
and meandered over, not realizing we were ten minutes late.
Bill opened the door for us wearing an apron and nothing
else. That dry mouth sensation overtook us again as
realities were coming into focus.
We were led to the living room, where we saw our wives for
the first time since 10:00 that morning. They had obviously
been shopping. Carol was in a black body-stocking with a
sequin bra and over it. Marcy was in knee-high
boots, dark ultra mini-skirt, horizontally striped,
body-hugging long-sleeved, low cut and scarf around
her neck. Susan was wearing fishnet stockings, a short
leather skirt with a slit up to her hip and halter top
which let the hint of the sides of her exposed. And
Sandra wore tight beige riding pants, riding boots and a
leather bra that encased her magnificent
beautifully with a small at the front of each large
enough for just her nipples to poke through. Our wives
were all heavily made up, and were obviously fulfilling
some fantasies that they had not let us in on.
Bill's eye's were looking down, but we couldn't stop
staring at our wives in disbelief and excitement. As we
each discovered Sandra's leather bra, we got hard at the
distraction of seeing only the nipple of her ample breasts.
Sandra welcomed us to an evening we would never forget.
She scolded us for being late and said she would take care
of that later, but that now we were to undress and put on
our costumes for the evening. From now on, she instructed,
we would have to keep our eyes down or suffer penalties,
which we would not like.
Our costumes consisted of leather collars, leather
wrist-cuffs, leather ankle-cuffs and a leather belt, all with
rings at various places around them, which we later learned
were for attaching things. As we undressed in the hall
leading to the living room, we got reminders from a riding
crop yielded by Sandra not to look at our mistresses. This
was difficult indeed, because they were so intriguing in
their sexy outfits. When we were out of our clothes we were
walked into the living room and we were each attended to by
someone other than our own wives in adorning the leather
gear. Sandra attached my ankle-cuffs and the sight of her
full bosom tipped off by the exposed wrinklely skinned erect
nipples, gave me a hardon. When she looked up and saw it,
she said, "Ummm, nifty, but not now slave. Not until I tell
you to." And, gave my balls a tap with the riding crop which
sent a surprising jolt of pain up into my stomach. It also
did the trick of bringing the erection back down.
We were then placed around an ottoman facing out. Our
ankles were attached to the ankle next to us and our wrists
were attached to a loop on the back of our belts. With our
legs spread as they were, and our hands immobilized, I was
feeling mighty vulnerable. "Now," Sandra said, "how about
we size up the evening?"
Out came a clipboard, a cloth tape measure, and money for
bets. First my calves were measured around and recorded on
the clipboard then my thigh at the widest part around. Next
my biceps, neck, and chest were measured and recorded. As
our wives took turns coming forward and measuring parts of
me and coming into my view, I eventually had to close my
eyes to avoid another erection before instructed to do so.
The touching, the closeness of our friends and neighbors on
my body was just too much, however, and I raged a hardon
despite my efforts to avoid it. "I'll give you five seconds
to get that down, or I'll get it down for you." Said Sandra,
"One.., two.., three.., four.., That's better."
Wade wasn't so lucky. He got several whacks with the crop
to get his back down. Bill was surprisingly obedient, or
not so surprisingly in retrospect. And, Jeff was so nervous,
he couldn't get it up, even if he tried at that point.
Then Sandra led the way and placed the tape on the middle
of the back of my right testicle and ran the tape along the
bottom up to the middle of the front. Then she ran the tape
around my scrotum to get the circumference of the two balls
together. I guess they could do the math to figure out the
size of our nuts. This manipulation of my balls got my
penis stirring again and she grabbed and yanked my balls
saying, "Down boy! Not yet." She then measured the
relaxed length of my cock and the circumference of the head.
"Now boy! Now!" she said as she slinked up next to me
putting one hand on my shoulder and dragging the other up my
tensed stomach, glancing an exposed tit along my arm, and
exhaling warm air against my face.
The ladies watched in fascination as my cock twitched up to
attention in less than a minute. Then she measured the
length from underneath and the circumference again, passed
the tape to Susan, and took over the duties as
Susan did Jeff, and so on. The humiliation of this was
beyond belief. Not only were we being displayed naked in
front of the ladies on the block, but we were being
compared to the other in things that we bundle up pride
and insecurities all in one. The most embarrassing aspect
was having our sexual natures controlled by them as they
wished.
It seems Wade was the hunkiest on their scale with Jeff and
I somewhere second and third and Bill, who didn't seem to
mind, taking up the rear. The ladies went off for a bit to
get some refreshment leaving us standing attached to each
other around the ottoman. We started comparing notes,
complimenting each other on the foxiness of their wives and
trying to figure a way out of this, then in walked the
ladies giggling. When they entered to find us talking to
each other, they stopped giggling, smiling, and talking.
Sandra said, "You were late, you can't keep your
eyes to yourself, and you can't seem to follow the
simplest of rules, can you. Well it is time to teach you
slaves to follow our simple rules so we can proceed with an
orderly evening. Comprende'?"
We were led down stairs to a recreation room. Instead of
typical furniture, there was a wall made up of two pieces
of plywood eight feet wide by the height of the ceiling.
Along the wall were four holes about 32 inches from the
floor evenly spaced. As we got closer, we could see two
drilled holes a couple of inches above each hole. When we
were around back, our hands were undone to give us the
opportunity to push our cock and balls through the hole, or
we would have assistance from one of the ladies. When we
just barely and painfully managed to squeeze everything
through, our hands were reattached to the belt behind and
our ankles again to each other. Shoelaces were threaded
through the drilled holes and were used to tie our cocks
straight up against the wall, leaving our balls vulnerably
on display, us helpless to do anything about it, and blind
to what ever was happening on the other side.
We heard Sandra ask the ladies, "What should we do about
them being late?" All we could hear then was whispering
and shuffling. Then someone pulled a hair out of my
scrotum. When I flinched my fellow slaves looked at me with
apprehension in their eyes. Then Wade got a pull and then
Jeff, and so on it went until I'm sure we were each pretty
much hairless on our balls. Then we were given an alcohol
rub which had us wanting to dance in place till the wave of
intense pain started to subside.
Then I felt a fairly pleasurable massage of my balls which
ended in having a rubber-band or hair scrunchy or something
placed around my balls extending them down to the bottom of
my scrotal sack and out. The others got the same treatment.
"Now this is for not following the rules in general boys."
Came Marcy's voice from the other side, as we felt slaps
from paint stirrers or rulers or something. My colleagues
were in as much excruciating pain as I was. We must have
taken a dozen each, and the women couldn't have known how
much pain they were inflicting because they couldn't see
our tears.
The rubber-bands were removed and the shoelaces untied, but
the women left for a while and went back upstairs. We
didn't dare talk or move from our posts for fear of further
retribution. Besides, my balls were swollen and I don't
think I could have backed them back through the at
that point.
What seemed like half an hour later, we heard their voices
and footsteps. Moments later, a hand grasp my cock like a
handshake. "Now boys, don't cum, no matter what we do to
you, if you know what's good for you." Sandra's voice came
from the other side. Music started playing and the hand did
a grasp pull motion getting me hard. Another hand started
lifting and jiggling my balls. This was all very arousing
when the music stopped and the hands went away. The music
started and a new pair of hands started to work away in a
different way bringing to a new level of excitement. The
music stopped, the hands stopped. The music started again,
this time a hand grabbed my balls and a mouth started
sucking on my dick. When the music stopped, my dick was
bobbing and reaching for someone, anyone to touch it. The
music started again and each of us were moaning and lunging
forward to increase the sensations without regard for the
warning at the onset of the game. Wade stammered, "Oh god.
No. Oh god, oh god, Ayeeeeya!."
We could hear Marcy jumping and yelling, "I win! I win!"
All ministrations stopped. Bill, Jeff and I opened our eyes,
breathing deep in disbelief, poking our cocks humorously out
as far as they would go several times trying to get friction
from anything that might be close, to no avail. Wade looked
sheepish and worried. The gals were giggling and talking too
low for us to make anything out for a while. Then we were
told to back ourselves out of the holes - yeah right! We
tried, but without our hands, we were essentially stuck. As
we pulled, the women pushed with their fingers like they were
stuffing a sleeping bag into a stuff sack. The pain was
indescribable. When they came around back, we were in an
awkward pile bound by our ankles trying to get into fetal
positions. "Oh! Was that that uncomfortable getting out?"
Susan said innocently.
We were released at the ankles, helped up, and led around
to the front. We briefly looked at our sexy wives, but put
our eyes down quickly to avoid any further punishment. I
wondered what was in store for Wade. "So do you
understand the rules for the rest of the evening? And, do
you agree to abide by them?" Sandra asked. And we all
nodded our heads without looking up. "Now ladies, the
blindfolds please."
We were blindfolded by cotton being taped over our eyes,
then a sleeping mask pulled over, so no light was able to
get in at all. Our hands were clipped to the sides of our
collars and I was led to a low sturdy coffee table. After
I was placed on my back, legs pulled apart and groin
exposed, I felt one of the lady's bare legs and bottom
sitting back on my face. She had her hands on my upper
thighs for support and someone said "Do it!". My mind was
a cloud. Here I was face to with one of the sexy
ladies of my block, I was going to give her a licking, and
I had no idea who it was. When I hesitated, I received a
brief pat on the balls like spurs in a horse's side to get
me going. I started licking with enthusiasm. Soon the
anonymous rider grabbed my cock in one hand and my balls in
the other. I soon figured out that she was communicating
to me how she liked it. My cock became a joystick that led
my tongue to the right spots and my balls became the
throttle to ease up, hurry up, or harder. Although
sometimes painful, I really enjoyed the connection with
this woman through this process. After she came, she
leaned forward onto my belly so I discovered she had been
completely naked. She huddled my balls up in her hands
and gave the tip of my cock a gentle kiss before
dismounting.
We finally had the women naked but were unable to see them.
Another mystery woman mounted me in a similar fashion. She
communicated what she wanted by moving her hips in an
uninhibited way with her hands on my legs where they join
my upper body, the pressure of her palms told me where to
go and so forth. As she neared her climax, she huddled her
arms to her side leaning down onto my stomach, crushing her
breasts to my body and pulling my balls and cock back toward
her face. When she was done, she gave my balls a not so
gentle, but nevertheless, friendly squeeze, and got off.
That was all for me for a while apparently, as Bill, then
Jeff seemed to get turns. I remained still and quiet trying
my best to figure out who was doing what to whom. When it
was Wade's turn, it appears they had other ideas for him.
Instead of lying on his back on the table, they had him on
his hands and knees. When he felt someone's greased up
fingers at his virgin ass hole, he blurted out, "Oh no!
Not that!"
"What was that? Did I hear you say something slave?" was
Sandra's reply, and someone slapped him in the balls.
There was rustling and conversation about how to attach what
turned out to be strap-on dildoes. One by one, and in
successively increasing size, I later learned, Wade took
rubber shafts up his rectum until he was actually made to
come again from the experience. The rest of us were not
that lucky that evening until we got home and screwed our
wives silly. Carol said, "If that is what a little
mistress/slave action can do for you, were going to have to
do it more often." And so it goes.