Date: Fri, 26 Feb 2010 12:35:23 -0700
From: Jay roberts <diplomat1501@msn.com>
Subject: "Bum Boy Saves the Day, Part Two"   by Jay Roberts     Gay Historical

In encounters as this I usually took a commanding affect thought my deepest
personality was more passive.  These lower class boys were accustomed to
taking orders.  If they didn't, I smart wack on their tender behinds were
in order.  They would soon become docile and useful for satisfying my
sexual needs.  BUT, Pucky, dear friend, I had a sinking feeling that this
boy was not to be amenable.  Of course, initially I thought he was becoming
so.

Let me explain.  This false sea boy, now displaying his unbelievably
gorgeous chest, those two tiny, pink protuberances pointed and erected
attested to his interest in sex with me.  At this point I usually might
say, "Now laddie, on your knees.  Crawl over to me and begin suckling on my
English toffee."

I opened my mouth to speak when Billy Wheaten strode over to me with an
upsetting proprietary attitude, saying "Let's get these lovely clothes
off."

He slipped my jacket off my shoulders.  This act had me breathless.  Why?
I was, by his ministrations, transported back to an earlier age.  He became
Miss Crump, my inestimable nanny.  I felt as if I had just come in from
childish play and she was preparing me for my bath.  This effect on me was
quite powerful as well as surprising.

Next he removed my waistcoat, undoing each of the eight buttons, counting
them aloud as he did.  His counting drew me deeper into my childhood.  As
he bent to remove my shoes and stockings, I gazed down on his gleaming
blond, curly hair and suppressed an overwhelming desire to pet his
beautiful locks.  I steeled myself against this gesture.  Any such show of
tenderness would further hurl me down the road of obedient childhood, the
threshold of which I was teetering already.  Next he slipped my braces off
my shoulders and removed my collar and tie.  My bare neck, without the
dignifying tie and collar made me feel like a hog carrier.  Now only my
shirt and union suit were between me and nakedness.  Truthfully, I felt the
desire to be naked, to doff my identify as a "toff".  To gamble on a lawn,
in short to leave years of cultivation and return to an earlier period.

As he removed the last barriers of civilization and I stood naked, more so
by virtue of my erected penis, he patted my check almost paternally.
Strangely, I was grateful for that show of tenderness, but the image of
Miss Crump intruded.  I half expected him to announce that my nightly
rectal temperature must be taken, that my bath was being drawn, and I
desired six slaps on my rump for some earlier transgression.

"You are quite the beauty, Percy.  You ought remain bare, always.  It
levels our stations."

Keeping his lustrous blue eyes on me, he quickly removed his spurious
seaman's uniform.  I noted he worn no underwear and that accounted for the
revealing nature of the front of his pants.  He might as well have worn a
cod piece, a stripped one at that, with tassel.

"Have you been a good boy today?"

This query shocked me.  How could he have fallen so completely into the
fantasy that was playing in my brain, that brain so addled as if I had
drunk a complete bottle of port.

Further strangeness as I rote answered, in a six year old Percy voice, "No,
I have been bad."

"Then you must lay across my bare knees and take your punishment in a
manful way."

I shuffled over to him as he sat on that black Chinese inlaid
mother-of-pearl chair, you know it, and took my position over his warm,
muscle legs.

"Are you ready?"

"Yes please, I need this, I have been so bad." (Could that really be me
saying that?)

His large hand crashed down on my delicate, white arse.  I cried out in a
child's voice.  He struck again and again.  My arse cheeks were now almost
anaesthetized from the repeated blows.  Great heat emanated from them.
This heat seemed to stimulate that hidden (and greatly protected) opening
between my rump cheeks.  I was certain that the nether mouth was heavily
puckered and vibrating in a kissing motion.

"Now youngster," he said, "Time for your enema and then perhaps a treat,
followed by a nice warm bath.  You will sleep beautifully tonight, and the
treat, delivered by me, will complete your transformation.

A moment to remind you, dear friend, I am no bum boy.  Whilst I have
buggered my way to this age, I had always been the bugger.  The thought of
an enema, however, so reminiscent of childhood seemed not to be a
violation.

"Get it," he commanded.

I looked at him, puzzled, "Get what Mr. Wheaten?"  I never questioned my
use of "Mister" though that term catapulted him to a position of equality,
even superiority.

"You enema kit, you foolish boy, and hurry."

I padded into my adjourning WC.  In a drawer I found the appliance, not
used for almost twenty years.  It seemed in good shape.  I carried to him.

He examined it and then told me to lay on the bed, in a position with me
backside up in the air, resting my weight on my elbows and knees.  I meekly
complied whilst he went into the toilet room and ran water.  Soon he
returned and began sticking the small end of the black hard tubber tube
into my anus.

In fear, I had closed my aperture tightly so that even that small device
could not enter.  He laughed at me.  "You will take this black tube and
anything else I care to insert."

My backside was already sensitive from my flogging, so the small pinch he
delivered was painful and caused me to leave off my squeezing of my arse
hole so that the enema tube slipped in.  It had been greased, and that
facilitated its journey up my bowel.

In a moment I was cooing.  Actually out loud.  The warm water soothed me,
made me totally pliable It wasn't until much later that I discovered that
he had added Laudanum to the water in the rubber bag.

And so, he rubbed my back lovingly and fed this mixture into my buttocks.
I said over and over a thanks for the wonderful feelings I was
experiencing.  We were like brothers, he the controller of the water, and I
the grateful receiver.  But the pleasantness was soon to end.  My stomach
was greatly distended and I complained loudly.

"Just a little more.  Don't be a baby.  Hold it within you until you can
blessedly expel the water."

I gritted my teeth like a good boy.  Finally he announced that the delivery
bag was empty and I might go to the loo and get rid of this painful load of
water.  Hunched over grotesquely, I crab walked to the waiting commode.
Even before I was settled down on the seat I loud explosion filled the room
with its shameful sounds.  This was followed by loud plots, gurgles and
hisses.  I never realized that shitting could be such an overwhelming
pleasure.  Finally there was no fecal matter or water to expel.

I washed myself at the basin and rubbed my hind quarters with Messrs. Smith
and Delaney men's perfume.  Naked with a large smile on my face I emerged
in a cloud of perfume.  Billy was lolling on the bed.  He had a stiff cock
sticking up in the air like the periscope of one of those new underwater
craft.

He motioned me to approach the bed, like Victoria on the throne.  I walked
slowly.  He said, "I promised you a treat.  This will be it.  Sit on my
cock."

"What?" I exclaimed, but without great volume for the additive to the enema
had made me a bit sleepy and compliant.  He repeated his order.  I
scrambled up and faced him, my legs bent on either side of his hips and
lowered myself unto his prong.  I settled down.  It was entirely inside of
me.  It hurt monstrously, but he slowly pitched his hips up and down and
the pain subsided, replaced by a wonderful sexual feeling.  I knew about
that mysterious organ just inside the arse hole and it was this that he was
stimulating.

Soon I was rocking wantonly and emitting low wailing cries of pleasure like
a pick up boy from the docks.  His face was grinning at me, but I could see
that he was also in the grip of profound sexual excitement.  His eyes were
narrowed, the blue barely glinting through his lush eyelashes.  His pretty,
full mouth was pursed in a silent sound of OOOOOH.  I knew that he would
soon enter that helpless realm of orgasm and would leave the Earth for a
short while.

Then he reached out and put his hand loosely around my stiff cock.  I
pushed upwards to get more sensation from it.  He tightened his hand and
began to shag me repeatedly.  My groans turned to crying sobs of deep
sexual sensation.

He opened his eyes now.  He shouted at me, "Reach your peak, NOW!"  My eyes
shut, my face screwed up in agony and I shook and squirted a mighty stream
that landed on Billy and my own chest.  My arse hole vibrated and closed
hard on his cock.  He was drooling now and his face and neck turned bright
red.  He commenced a vigorous fucking motion and I felt his hot seed
bathing my insides as I finished my own orgasm.

"Don't move," he ordered.  "Stay where you are until you feel my erection
subside.  Do this everytime."

I nodded and waited.  I began to feel foolish and humiliated.  I was a
fucked goose and he was my master.

He slid away and got off the bed and sat in that Chinese chair.  "It is now
time to tell you what your future will be.  First off I must reintroduce
myself.  I real name is Billy Crump."

End Part Two