Date: Fri, 2 Jan 2004 10:16:45 -0800 (PST)
From: chirs s <cmiles_21@yahoo.com>
Subject: Reiny Summer 2

This story is of course completely fiction, whatever disclaimer you choose
applies. If sexually related stories are illegal where you are, or offends
you, go away. If not, this is my first attempt at writing, let me know what
you think!  I also retain all rights to this story.

Reiny Summer
By C. Miles

Chapter 2

     As soon as we entered the Coreday's house Peter's mother turned him
around so his back was to her. "Please go to your room and begin unpacking
your clothing, and your belongings."  she told him as she tucked the end of
his leash into the back of his harness, like she had done at my house. "I
must unpack some things and then I will call Clayton and you back
downstairs for a minute."
     "Yes Mummy." he answered in a soft voice.
     "And please close your bedroom door." she called after us as I
followed him toward the staircase.
     "Yes Mummy," he whimpered.
     I felt the same strange, warm sensation I had felt a couple of other
times today spread through my stomach as I followed him up the stairs. As
he began climbing the steps his tight shorts showed off the round, firm
melons stuffed inside them, and his leash bouncing off one, then the other
of his cheeks somehow seemed to act like a magnet for my eyes. After a few
steps I found myself a few stairs behind him, where his tight bubble butt
was exactly at eye level.
     I became so fascinated by the view I didn't realize we had reached the
staircase's upper landing, and that he had stopped walking, until I bumped
into him pushing him forward.  Instinctively I reached out and grabbed him
around his waist, hoping to break his fall.
     He reacted by leaning against me, pushing his back into my chest. "Do
you want to walk me?" he whispered.
     I didn't realize that I had moved my hands up and grasp his harness
until he squirmed in my grasp and reached behind his back, pushing his thin
hand between our bodies.  The strange warm sensation in my stomach became
hot, and spread down into my crotch as I felt what I was sure his leash rub
across my groin.
     The strange, hot feeling turned into what felt like it was now a fire,
and spread into my boyhood when he held up the leash's handle and begged,
in his wonderful accent and sweet voice, "Please, I want you to!"
     My brain, and groin were too far in shock to move as he slipped the
leash onto my wrist.  'What is going on, is he weird or something? Is his
mother weird?' I wondered.  'Does he think he has to be led around on a
leash?'
     His happy face and grin told me he actually was enjoying himself as he
pushed his way against my hip and shoulder. Still on automatic, or
overload, I put my arm around the back of his chest, then moved my hand and
slipped two fingers into the steel ring at the back of his harness and
pulled him against me as we walked down the hall.
     I was a little in awe when I first saw his bedroom. It was much bigger
than mine, and despite the clutter of boxes scattered around it, it struck
me as regal, for lack of a better word. All of the furniture was made of
very heavy wood, even his huge four poster bed.  Thick drapes adorned the
windows; it looked like something from a castle in the movies, more for a
Lord or Duke's bed chamber than that of a twelve-year-old boy.
     At first I didn't understand when he put his finger to his mouth and
whispered 'shhh', until he pointed at a speakerbox mounted on the wall
right next to the door.  I didn't resist as he pulled me across the room
into what turned out to be his private bathroom.
     After he closed the bathroom door behind us he pushed his face to my
ear so close his facebow pushed against it. "My mum listens sometimes,
don't say anything naughty."
     I was so distracted by his breath blowing into my ear, and how sexy
his hushed voice sounded it took a second to digest what he had said, but I
nodded my head slightly. I couldn't help but pull his body closer to
mine. I almost jumped out of my skin when he let out one of his cute
giggles and stuck his tongue into my ear; I was still in shock as he pulled
me back into his bedroom by his harness.
     "Would you like to see my books?" Peter exclaimed more than asked as
he pulled me across the room toward a pile of boxes.
     I grunted as we tried to lift the box he had chosen off the stack; we
ended up sliding it off the one below it, and skidding it across the carpet
to a heavy wooden bookshelf by his study desk.  After he ripped it open he
pulled a stack of framed pictures out, and I gasp as he started arranging
them on the bookshelve's top shelf.
     He had three or four pictures of him standing together with Hermione,
Ron and Harry in their Hogwarts school uniform Signed Emma, Rupert and
Daniel.
     "You, you, you know them?" I mumbled, still trying to believe what I
was seeing.
     "That's Miss Rowling." he replied, holding another picture out to
me. My already bugged eyes grew even wider when I saw Peter standing in
front of a white haired lady, her arms draped over his shoulders grasping
the straps of what was clearly another harness and read 'With love, Aunt
Joanne'.
     I was sure I had lost my mind and was imagining things when he handed
me a picture of himself in a Hogwarts uniform, leaning against Professor
Dumbledore, the old man's long white beard draped over the top of his red
head. 'My favorite young wizard. Richard Harris' read the signature. I knew
I was losing it as I looked at similar autographed pictures of him with
Professor Quirrel, then Professor Snipe.
     The next two almost made me faint dead. Peter, in a Hogwarts uniform,
even with a cape and holding a wand out was standing in front of Hagrid,
who had his huge catcher's mitt hands cupped on my new friend's thin
shoulders. The other was him perched on a high stool, wearing the sorting
hat, with Professor McGonagall staring at him and Professor Dumbledore in
the background.
     "You, you went to Hogwarts?" I managed to force out of my lungs. "Are
you a, a wizard?"
     "Peter, please unpack your belongings, you may show your new friend
your albums another time." his mother's voice barked from the speaker box.
     "Yes Mummy, right away!" he hollered toward the bedroom door. He shot
the intercom nasty look, stuck both of his middle fingers out, waved them
at the speaker, then dug several books out of the box.
     I was impressed with his collection. As he claimed he had all of the
Harry Potter series, all signed by their author, along with countless other
thick, hardbound books I had never heard of.
     As we worked at unloading his other things I figured out holding his
leash was slowing us down and slipped it off my wrist, but when I did I was
immediately attacked by a sad, pleading face.
     "Please? It feels neat when you hold it!" he whispered as he all but
forced the loop handle back over my hand. Before I could react he squirmed
his round little biscuit but into my crotch and softly added, "Perhaps we
should arrange my closet." I somehow felt like he was holding my leash as
we pushed a several tall boxes to a door, then pulled a couple of them into
a large walkin closest behind us.
     He stayed glued to my side as we began emptying the boxes. They were
all hanging clothes, but it seemed like they were all shirts and coats, and
no pants or jeans, all hung from a rail at the top a mover wardrobe box.
     I started grabbing handfuls of hangers and hooking them, almost
throwing them on the closet rails until he stopped me. 'Oh, well,
whatever!' I thought as he took over and carefully arranged each garment.
     Although I was almost totally distracted by his thin pelvis and
wonderful little butt, and the thick leather straps encasing his lathe
chest, along with the same strange, warm feeling the caused in my stomach
and groin, we worked fairly quickly and soon we were dragging another pair
of boxes into the closet.
     "Here are my Hogwarts uniforms!" he proclaimed. When I turned around
the box he had just opened had some long pants along with a couple of
blazers and capes, the Hogwarts insignia on them. Before I realized I had I
found myself fingering the garments to see if they were real, or if I had
totally lost it.
     "You, y- you, you really went to Hogwarts? Are you a, a, wizard?" I
gasp.
     He let out another of his soft giggles and pulled a cape from the box,
throwing it around both of our shoulders. "I am in all the movies." he
said. He pulled me closer to his thin body and flashed a wide grin before
continuing, "I'm sort of a wizard, but I can't find my magic wand."
     "Is that it?" he giggled. I started to turn and see where he was
looking, but froze so stiff I was sure my heart had stopped when he grabbed
my boyhood through my shorts.
     "Do you wank? You didn't say." he whispered.
     "W-wh-what's a wank?" I managed to stammer.  "May-maybe we... maybe we
don't got them here."
     My head began spinning so fast I was sure I was going into an
irreversible coma when he gave my tool another squeeze and whispered, "Your
Willie! Do you ever wank your Willie?
     "Blow me, you never have!" he snickered when I didn't answer. "Can I
wank you? Please, please? I want to!"
     I was completely paralyzed, but vaguely remember him attempting to
slip behind me. After a couple of tries, and spinning around so his leash
had enough slack he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled my back
against his chest and stomach. I was sure I was about to burn to death an
instant later when I felt his rock hard shaft push against the crack
between my butt cheeks, and the fire burning in my stomach, groin and now
my boyhood went into atomic meltdown.
     I'm sure I would have fallen to the floor and died if I hadn't been
leaning against him when I felt him delicately pulling on the drawstring of
my shorts, then slowly start sliding them over my hips and butt. I knew the
end was near when my rock hard, flaming little shaft popped out of my
shorts and bounced back up off of my lower abdomen a couple of times before
standing rigidly at attention. I tried to groan, but my lungs completely
failed to move any air. I was sure my heart was about explode from overload
when he wrapped both hands around my red hot tool.
     "Peter?" his mother's voice crackled from the intercom speaker, and
rang to the few brain cells I had left.
     "Oh, no..." he groaned. "Bloody hell, no, no," he moaned as he
struggled to hold both of us on our feet.
     I think he forgot I was still holding his leash a second later as he
staggered out of the closet and was almost pulled over backward.
     "Yes Mummy?" he managed, his voice shaking. He let out another groan
as I stumbled behind and wrapped my arms around him, grasp the front of his
harness and pulled his back against my chest and groin. He shivered when I
reached down and slipped the fingers of one hand inside the waistband of
his shorts.
     "Would you and your guest please come downstairs?" the intercom
barked.
     "Tell her, we got to, uh" I whispered into his ear. His only reaction
was to half drag me behind him over to the speaker, somehow I managed not
to trip over my shorts, still hanging on my knees.
     "Right away Mummy!" he answered, his voice a little higher than usual,
but steady.
     "We must, she's not to be kept waiting." he whispered to me.
     I was about to try another way to get him back in the closet when a
soft buzz, then a click came from his bedroom door. I had just began to
wonder what it was when he pulled out of my arms and pulled the door ajar,
then pulled my shorts back up for me.
     I was still too lost to resist, gave up and followed him into the
hall, both of us straightening our clothing and running our fingers through
our hair as we went. He stopped at the top of the stairs and leaned back,
pushing his body to mine, rubbing his butt cheeks across my crotch several
times. I held his embrace for a second or two before he leaned his head
back and pushed his facebow against the side of my neck.
     "You better replace my reins." he whispered. "We shan't be long, I
hope." he groaned.
     I ran one hand over the leather straps encasing is chest and put the
other on his flat tight stomach and pulled him more tightly against me
briefly, then released him and slipped his leash off of my wrist. After
pushing the loop end through the steel ring and tucking it into his upper
chest strap I couldn't resist slipping my fingers into the ring and guiding
him down the stairs.
     His mother was standing in the downstairs hall next to an open closet
door, folding an empty cardboard box flat. "Thank you for coming so
promptly. Please come here." she smiled.
     "Clayton, your mother informed me you have never been on reins, is
that correct?" she asked, setting the box on the floor. "That you have
never worn them." she added, I guess to my lost face.
     It took a minute for my mind to clear enough to remember what they
meant by reins. "N- no Ma'am." I stammered.
     "I would like you to wear them for a few minutes before we go to
market, to let you adjust to them." she announced.
     I did a double take when my eyes followed her hand into closet. On the
door hung what had to be a dozen or more leather and webbing leash and
other straps of different lengths. Lined up on the closet rail was six or
eight sets of straps that looked somewhat like Peter's harness, on coat
hangers. I was still trying to believe what I was seeing when she removed
one of the sets of straps from its hanger and told me to hold my arms out
in front of me. Still in shock, or on automatic, I did, and stood
motionless as she fed the straps up my arms and over my shoulders.
     She turned me sideways and after she fidgeted with the straps for
several seconds I felt one of them pull snug around my upper chest, then
another around the bottom of my ribs.
     "Oh yes, a jolly good fit." she announced.
     She fingered through the straps hanging on the door and selected two
of them. I couldn't believe my eyes as I watched her withdraw a key from
her dress pocket and use it to open the clasps on the ends of the straps. I
felt two clicks from behind me and barely noticed her guiding Peter next to
me.
     "All done, please go finish unpacking your things." she said, patting
both our heads. "And please close your door Peter."
     It wasn't until I felt a tug on my newly fitted harness that I
realized she had fastened a short strap between our harnesses, forcing us
to walk next to each other. With every step I felt something rub against my
butt, and it didn't take long for me to realize beside the connecting
strap, I had a leash hanging from my harness.
     'Gee, thanks a bunch Mom! What did Peter say, bloody bitch?' I thought
as I fingered the mass of strapping wrapped around my chest. Mine were made
of nylon webbing, bit just as substantial as Peter's, and a couple of tugs
told me they were too snug fitting to even bother trying to slip out of.
     As we started upstairs I struggled several times to keep from being
pulled off balance. I felt even more confused as the harness straps
imprisoning me made my nipples harden as they rubbed over them, but after a
few more steps began enjoying the sensation.
     We were about halfway down the hall toward Peter's bedroom when he
cupped my hand and stopped. He pulled me closely next to him and whispered,
"Thank you Clay, you are a nice friend."
     His beautiful face seemed to drain most of the anger I was feeling out
of my body, but I was unprepared when he pushed his facebow into my neck
and gave me a kiss. Without realizing it I reached around his back and
started to pull him into a hug, but was foiled when I discovered the
connecting strap was too short to allow it.
     "Let's go finish so we can go marketing," he whined. "When we return
maybe my mum will release us."
     "Maybe!?!" I gasp as he led me by the hand into his room.
     Despite being shackled together and several times almost pulling one
another off balance, we finished unpacking sooner than I expected. I did
find it curious that the only long pants we unpacked were the ones that
were for his Hogwarts uniforms. He had an abundance of shorts, but wondered
if his jeans and such had been lost or what.
     Although I wasn't very happy about being strapped into a baby harness,
that same strange warm feeling returned to my stomach and groin, it seemed
to get warmer and warmer as I felt the gently tugs on my chest and Peter's
arm or body rub against mine. The straps rubbing over my now rock hard
nipples every time I moved began sending soft vibrations throughout my body
as we worked.
     We were emptying what I was sure was the last box when he let out one
of his soft giggles. "You've got a stiffy!" he whispered. The warm feeling
on my groin suddenly turned into a blowtorch blasting into my tool when I
felt him grab my boyhood.
     "You've GOT to show me what wanking is?" I begged, fighting to keep my
voice low.  "How to finish."
     His face turned a little mischievous. "We cant in a coupler. And I
want to finish you the first time." I started to beg him again, but another
squeeze from his hand completely took my voice away.
     I had recovered enough to walk, and breathe by the time he took my
hand and led me over to the intercom's speakerbox. While he pushed its call
button I reached out and gave the doorknob a test turn, we indeed were
locked in his room. Just as I had decided this place was too weird, time to
call Mom and get out, his mother answered his call.
     "We're finished with our chore Mummy," his sweet voice announced, that
wonderful accent totally distracting me. 'Maybe I'll stick around, for a
little while.' I decided as I looked into his beautiful face and happy
smile.
     She was waiting for us by the entry door when we got downstairs, her
half suitcase half purse handing from her shoulder.
     My stomach tightened as I felt her fidgeting with the back of my
harness. After a second I risked a glance over my shoulder and my fears
were confirmed, she was now holding the end of two leashes, one clearing
attached to me.
     I fought off a bit of panic as she unlocked the door and walked us
toward their mini-van and I felt the gentle tugs on my shoulders and chest,
both from the leash and the strap connecting me to Peter.  More than the
looming embarrassment of being seen in public not only wearing my headgear
but now leashed like a pet dog I felt somewhat like a trapped animal.
     I wasn't too sure what to do, how to keep from losing it, until I felt
something gently squeeze my hand. When I looked down Peter was holding it,
and his beautiful face and reassuring smile relaxed me. I clung to his hand
as we walked, and soon the harness straps rubbing on my nipples distracted
me.
     After his mom opened the sliding door somehow Peter and I managed to
clamber inside without killing each other. As we sat down I noticed all the
seat belts in the back of the van were different than I was used to.
Instead of a lap belt, and single shoulder belt that went diagonally across
your chest, these had two shoulder belts, sort of like baby car seat had,
but mounted to the normal car seat. I followed my friend's lead and slipped
the shoulder straps over my head, and as soon as I fastened the lap belt
Mrs Coreday reached inside and snugged the fit of my, then her son's
restraints.
     Although the seatbelts were a little more confining than I was
accustomed to the drive to the store was fairly routine. As soon as the van
stopped in its parking spot I reached for the release buckle, but it didn't
budge. When I looked over at Peter for help he was sitting motionless,
watching his mother walk around the vehicle. A minute later she opened our
door, reached in and did something to release my then my friend's
restraints. None to my surprise she had a hold of our leashes before we got
out of the van.
     Our trip through the store was embarrassing, but not as bad as I
expected. We attracted quiet a bit of attention when we walked in, but
after Mrs Coreday asked us to push the 'trolley', she hooked the end of our
leashes to the cart's handle, which didn't seem to show as much as her
holding them. We spent what seemed like forever pushing the cart up and
down I'm sure every isle in the huge store as she loaded it so full I was
sure it would break or flow over onto the floor.
     The worst part of the trip had to be when we went to the checkout
stand, then had her groceries carried out to the van. The lady that rang up
our sale began asking Mrs Coreday about our harnesses, and the next thing I
knew she was turning us side to side, modeling us for the checker, and
anyone else that wanted to watch. An older teen, probably high school age,
was sacking our groceries and clearly getting an eyeful during all
this. When everything was finally rung up and stuffed into bags, Peter
pulled me to the side of the cart and, still shackled to the handle we
walked next to the teen as he pushed the full cart out to the van.
     After she opened the van's rear hatch I'm not sure who's eyes bugged
more, mine or the sackboy's when Mrs Coreday pulled a key out of her dress
pocket and used it to unlock the latch holding our leashes to the shopping
cart. I could feel the kid's eyes drilling into me as she led us to the
side door and strapped us into the strange seatbelts.
          "Please help carry our parcels inside." Mrs Coreday instructed as
she released our car harnesses and slipped the loop handles of our leashes
onto her wrist.
     As soon as she opened the rear hatch Peter picked up a couple of sacks
and I followed suite. Somehow, despite being strapped together and leashed
to his mother Peter and I managed to carry the large sacks without tripping
or dropping them.
     Three trips later everything was inside, stacked in the kitchen table
and counters. I felt a glimmer of hope, that I was about to be released
from the horrible beast imprisoning my chest when Peter's mother turned us
around and began fidgeting with the back of my harness. But, that hope was
short-lived and instead of the straps being removed from my body I felt
what I was sure was my leash softly bounce off my backside.
     "Please place all the tins into the pantry." she told us as she
fidgeted with her son's harness. That same hope turned to despair when I
glanced around and saw that the strap connecting me to Peter was still in
place.
     "But..." I started.
     "Yes Mummy." Peter's soft voice cut me off. From what was becoming
reflex I followed along when I felt a tug on my harness.
     He dug through a couple of the sacks and handed me several cans, then
gathered more and picked them up. We had to turn sideways for both of us to
fit through the pantry's small door, and I stood motionless as Peter began
carefully arranging his, then my cargo on the shelves.
     "When's she gonna take this thing off?" I whispered in his ear.  "I
mean this strap." I added to his sinking face.
     "I don't know, but don't ask her, please don't." He put his arm around
my waist and pulled me against him, an instant later I felt the same warm
feeling spread through my stomach as the connecting strap pulled tight and
his other handed cup my inner thigh. "But, at least we are together." he
whispered. It spread throughout my body when he kissed, then stuck his
tongue in my ear.
     "Please don't dally boys, Miss O'Riley is coming to tea shortly." his
mother's voice rang from the kitchen.
     "Yes Mummy!" he cried. 'Oh God, I don't want my mom to see me like
this.' I prayed.
     His mother was busy loading groceries into the refrigerator when we
squeezed out of the pantry. Ten minutes later everything was put away,
which earned Peter and I another pat on the head, instead of our freedom as
I had hoped.
     "May I show Clay my scrapbook?' he begged.
     "Very well, but when I call you for tea please come promptly." she
answer.
     We started out of the kitchen, but Peter turned back, pulling the
connecting strap tight as he rushed back to her side. After motioning for
her to bend over he whispered something in her.  They had two or three
brief exchanges before she smiled and gave his cheek a gentle squeeze. My
heart skipped a beat when she turned her son around and pulled her key out
of her pocket. My elation was quickly diluted when she just removed the
strap between us and not our harnesses, but I couldn't wipe the smile off
my face as I followed my friend toward the stairs.
     "What'd you tell her?" I whispered as we reached the top of the
stairs.
     He gave me a mischievous grin and reached behind his back as an
answer. I returned his smile when he pulled the end of his leash from
behind, and offered my wrist allowing him to slip the handle onto it.
     "I asked if I may change my trousers, and I cant go into the loo alone
with the coupler!"  he beamed. Without realizing I had I planted a kiss on
his nose before I turned him down the hall.  We walked a few steps before I
stopped.
     "What's a loo, which way is it?" I asked.
     He let out one of his silly giggles, reached over and squeezed my
inner thigh and whispered, "It's in my room, it's a good place to wank."
His giggle turned into a silly squeal as I began dragging him down the hall
by his leash.
     Just a couple of steps into his bedroom I stopped and pulled his back
against my chest, and ran my fingers over his flat stomach. As I tucked my
chin onto his shoulder and wrapped my other hand around his chest, he let
out a soft snicker and wiggled into my groin for an instant, but then
slipped out of my grasp, and slipped his leash off of my wrist.
     He mumbled something I didn't understand, pushed his facebow into my
neck and gave me a pecking little kiss then rushed across the room, grabbed
something out of his chest of drawers and disappeared into his bathroom.
     I started to follow him wondering if that was the 'loo', and where
'wanks', whatever they are were kept, but the intercom's speaker
interrupted my thoughts. "Peter, please close your door!" his mother's
voice barked out it.
     "Yes Ma'am." I replied. It wasn't until I had already closed the door
that I realized I had probably just locked us in his room, and a try at
twisting the knob confirmed my fears.
     'What on earth have I gotten into?' I wondered. I ran my fingers over
the mass of web straps imprisoning my chest and gave the locked door a
nasty glare. 'I hope she gets here quick, I'm telling Mom everything, and
getting out of here!' I silently proclaimed to the intercom speaker, and
the weird old lady at the other end of it.
     The sound of a door opening made me glance behind. I grinned when I
saw Peter step out of the bathroom and I stated toward him. I took a couple
of steps then stopped dead in my tracks as my eyes almost popped out of my
head.
     He had changed his shorts as he told his mother, and was now wearing a
pair of absolutely skin tight black shorts that looked like they were made
of leather, polished brighter than his harness straps.  Besides being
extremely tightly stretched over his thin lower body they covered even less
of him than the scant gym shorts he had been wearing, cut so low this bony
pelvis bones stuck out the top of them and they had no legs, ending at this
crotch. A pair of very heavy duty chrome zippers looked very stressed as
they fought to hold a flap covering his groin closed.
     The same strange hot sensation I had felt so many times today
instantly returned, this time starting at the tip of my boyhood and rushing
into my groin then abdomen like a flash fire.
     "Wow, uh what are, um..." was all I could manage to mumble.
     He let out one of his soft giggles as he walked over to me and slipped
his leash onto my wrist. His mischievous little grin somehow told me that
whatever he was up to, he wasn't done. It felt like my heart left my chest
and began beating in my throat when he put his hands around my waist and
pulled my body against his, I was sure I was about to stop breathing as he
rubbed his groin against mine, and his magic shorts began softly creaking
with each movement.
     "They are called Lederhosen, my mum bought them when we went on
holiday to German." he said I a low voice. I was sure someone had pointed a
welding torch at my rock hard shaft when he grabbed one of my hands, guided
it down and pushed it against one of his round firm butt cheeks and
whispered, "I love how they feel."
     Everything started to get blurry as I cupped his butt, and felt his
crotch and leather covered shaft rub against mine, then his harness straps
rubbing over mine, making my nipples as hard as my tool. His hip felt like
it was charged with electricity when I felt it rubbing against mine I'm not
sure how long later, and didn't realize he had walked me over to his bed
until his soft hands grasp my bare waist and guide me to sit on the edge of
it.
     I tried to protest, that I would get in trouble, when he removed my
headgear straps then facebow, but I couldn't get any air to move over my
vocal cords. An instant later I was sure what was left of my brain was
going to go into overload when he pulled me into a tight embrace and I felt
his lips press against mine, but was sure I had died and gone to Heaven
when his tongue pushed between my lips, then my teeth and began exploring
my mouth.
     After what seemed like three or four eternities he broke our kiss. He
pushed his magic tongue into my ear for a second then whispered, "Want me
to wank you?"
     I was way to far in shock to answer, but didn't resist as he grabbed
the back of my harness and slowly pulled my back onto the mattress. Some
animal instinct I didn't know I had took over my lower spinal cord when I
felt him release the knot of my short's drawstring, and it told my hips and
butt to squirm around to help him pull my shorts down.
     "You've no pubes neither!" he softly giggled, but I was too far into
never-neverland to ask what he meant as I felt him rub his soft fingers
over my groin and cup my tight little nutsack. "Can you shoot, when you
wank?" he giggled.
     His fingers felt like they were charged with thousands of volts of
electricity as he wrapped them around the shaft of my red hot boyhood and
began slowing rubbing up and down its length.  'Oh, oh God! What is he
doing? Oh God!' I wondered as he continued to stroke me. I tried to gasp
for breath, but could only press the back of my head into the mattress and
twist it uncontrollably side to side as my back arched and my hips began
involuntarily bucking up and down like they were trying to pump the fire
out of my body.
     "Oh, oh! Peter, oh!" I managed to gasp. He tightened his grip and
stroked me even faster as a response.
     Just when I was sure my groin, my entire body was about to explode out
the end of my tool he stopped. Time seemed to stand still, I knew my guts
were going to explode out my belly as he held my boyhood, and my life it
seemed, in his hand and looked at me.
     "Blood hell, bloody fucking hell!" he groaned in an almost silent
voice. "Your mum has come calling, we must..."
     "Peter, would you and your friend care to join us for tea? Mrs O'Riley
has arrived." his mother's voice crackled over the intercom speaker.
     "Yes, thank you Mummy!" he exclaimed in his little boy voice.
     "No, tell her no!" I gasp. "Tell her we..." I got out before he pushed
his hand over my mouth.
     "We must! Mummy, my mum would never forgive us missing tea!" he
snarled under his breath to me. He bolted off the bed and rushed toward the
door, and without realizing it I used his leash to yank him back onto the
bed.
     "Just tell her we're not thirsty!" I told him. "Please, please?" my
entire body begged through my throat.
     I was still wondering if all this was real, and if I was going to
survive or explode as he grasp the front of my harness and jerked me to my
feet. I staggered but managed to keep my balance as he pulled my shorts up
then thrust my facebow in front of my face.
     He had already fitted the strap over the back of my head by the time I
pugged it into my teeth and quickly hooked it to the facebow. "We must
hurry!" he whispered as he fastened my neck strap and all but dragged me
toward the door.
     Although my acorn sized balls felt like they were the size of golf
balls and weighed as much as bowling balls, I seemed to recover, at least
enough that I could focus my eyes by the time Peter had led my by his leash
down the stairs. It wasn't until he led me into an extremely well lite
room, and bright light reflecting off his shorts glared into my eyes that I
realized I still had his leash on my wrist.
     I don't think he realized it either until it was too late. "My reins
came loose, and Clay held them for me Mummy!" he exclaimed, his voice
higher than usual.
     I felt my face flush when I saw both our mothers sitting at a small
round table in the middle of the glass paneled room I later learned was
what they called a Solarium.
     "Of course he did." his mother replied, somewhat of a titter in her
voice. I snapped what we had done, turned away and tried to get the loop
handle over my hand, but was shaking so badly I fumbled at a couple of
attempts before finally getting it off.
     "Shall I replace them, or would you prefer for your friend to continue
holding them?" she all but chuckled.
     "I see you survived!" my mother bubbled. She grasp my elbow and pulled
me over to her.  "You even look comfortable! Kind of cute too!" she
snickered as she ran her fingers over my harness's straps. I almost died
when she pulled on the back of it and chuckled, "I bet these things do come
in handy!"
     I was still praying she was joking when she gestured me to one of the
chairs around the table, next to the one Peter was climbing into.
     "Do I need to clip you in?" Mrs Coreday asked her son.
     "No Mummy, please?" he begged. I had no idea what they were talking
about, but from the frightened look on my new friend's face I wasn't too
sure I wanted to know.
     Both our mothers were drinking from small coffee cups, with an ornate
tea pot between them, but thankfully there were glasses of ice tea sitting
at our places.  I was a little lost when our hostess offered me a biscuit
that turned out to be a chocolate chip cookie, but decided to chill and not
say anything.
     The two ladies babbled for a couple of minutes while Peter and I ate
our cookies and exchanged glances, both of us wishing we could get the hell
out of there.
     "Did you enjoy viewing Peter's stills albums Clayton?" his mother
asked, almost making me jump out of my skin.
     "Uh, yes Ma'am." my survival instinct answered for me.
     "We were distracted, and didn't get to view all of them." Peter took
over. I felt his hand cup my inner thigh as he added, "After tea my we go
finish?"
     "From Clay's face, they must be very interesting albums!" Mom bubbled,
making Peter giggle and me want to die.
     "Peter was in all of the Harry Potter movies, as an extra." his mother
bragged. "I'm a Line Editor for Bloomsbury Publishing, and had to spend
some time on the sets serving as a part time tutor for the young actors, so
it was perfect for both of us."
     "Mummy gets to read the new books before anyone else!" Peter
proclaimed. "But I'm not allowed to see them." he pouted.
     "Would you care to autograph a picture for Clayton? There are some of
your stills in the study." his mother suggested.
     "Yes Mummy! Thank you!" he hooted. He started to jump out of his chair
then froze as his face turned ashen. "Im sorry Mummy, please don't..."
     "Is it proper to leave the table without permission?" his she barked.
     "No Mummy." he whimpered to his empty saucer. "I'm very sorry Mrs
O'Riley." he told my mother's teacup.
     'Wow, what happens if you get in trouble here!' I thought.
     "You've received some e-mail from home also." Him mother continued, in
a much calmer voice. "If you've finished tea, you may go read them."
     His face brightened like a new penny. "Thank you Mummy! May I be
excused?" he begged in his best sweet voice. A nod of her head brought an
almost blinding smile to his face. He squirmed a little then climbed out of
his chair and carefully pushed it against the table.
     I started to get up with him, but the look he shot me told me not
to. "May I be excused, Ma'am? Ma'ams?" I tried, not sure who to ask.
     I wanted to kill my mother when I glanced between them, Mom had her
hand over her mouth, but her eyes told she was straining so hard to keep
from bursting out in laughter she was about to burst.
     "Yes you may." Mrs Coreday finally answered.
     I hopped out of my chair and started to turn away, but remembered what
Peter had done and turned back. It wasn't until I had pushed my chair under
the table that I noticed short straps hanging from each side of my chair, a
quick check glance told me the one Peter was sitting in also had them. I
started to follow Peter away from the table when his mother grabbed the
side of his harness and stopped him as he walked past her.
     "Clayton, we wouldn't want Peter to trip, would we." she half snicked
as she grabbed the end of his leash and held it out to me. A soft snort
from Mom's direction told me not to look back as I accepted it.
     We walked a couple of steps before he slowed, moved next to me and
whispered in my ear. I'm sure I blushed five or six shades of red before I
turned around and returned to the table.
     "Thank you for inviting me to tea Ma'am." I managed to
stammer. Somehow I managed to fight off the urge to run out of the room
dragging Peter behind me when I heard my mom start to chuckle.
     Their study was as stoic as Peter's bedroom. Three of the walsl were
lined with tall bookshelves like you'd find in a library, stuffed full of
books. The back wall had a couple more bookshelves, along with a computer
hutch and a table against it. In the middle of the room was a large wooden
desk, along with several student desks like we used in school.
     Peter all but pulled me to the computer hutch, and I couldn't help but
notice another pair of straps hanging from the sides of the chair he pulled
out. I was a little surprised when instead of sitting in it, he guided me
to, but his mischievous grin told me what he was up to. I let out a loud
gasp as he squirmed into my lap and pushed his leather covered little butt
into my groin.
     I closed my eyes and wrapped my arms around his lathe little chest as
I felt his bottom push against my again rock hard boyhood, his leather
shorts letting out a soft creak of approval.
     "Look, this one's from Rubert!" he squealed. I opened my eyes enough
to glance at the screen, but closed them and continued to absorb the wonder
of his beautiful, leather encased body until he added, "He's Ron Weasley."
     I had trouble believing my eyes as I read, then reread the note. It
talked about life on 'the set', even relaying some humorous incidents
during filming. I remembered the pictures Peter had upstairs of him with
his fellow redhead, and as hard as it was to believe, I actually was
reading an e-mail from a real live student wizard, and one of my all time
heros.
     Peter let out one of his cute giggles as he moused down to the bottom
of the note. He squirmed his butt pushing my hot, rock hard boyhood even
further into the crack between his melons before pointing at the bottom of
the note.
     "That's not exactly what he meant!" he softly giggled as he pointed at
the screen. 'Keep a stiff upper lip, and we hope its not to rainy there
mate!' I read. He squirmed again in my lap, and pushed his facebow against
my ear.
     "His stiffys feel like yours! Even when I wank them!" he whispered. My
tool throbbed so hard I thought it was going to burst out of my shorts and
slam him against the computer's monitor when he pushed his tongue into my
ear.
     My vision blurred and I felt myself drifting back into a utopia
induced coma as he opened the next message, and I squeezed the only reality
available, the thick leather straps of his harness.  "You gotta, please,
you gotta tell me what wank is." I begged with what little air I could get
to move across my vocal cords.
     "No, I'm going to wank you. Wait until my mum lets us go back
upstairs, I will." he whispered. I started to protest, but the few working
brain cells I had left went into overload when he grasp my right hand,
pulled it down and thrust it into his leather encased crotch.
     "Peter, Mrs O'Riley is leaving soon." his mother's voice rang.
     "We better go sweetie, I need to start supper and you have some chores
to do." Mom's voice chimed in.
     Peter mumbled something I couldn't understand, or was too dolorous
to. "Yes Mummy!"  he hooted. "Mummy, I cant find my pictures!" he added in
his best little boy voice. "Bloody BITCH!" he snarled under his breath.
     "But, Mom, I still gotta..." my throat relayed from my groin.
     "Clayton Francis!" sent a shiver down my spine as I felt my boyhood
shrink and hide inside my crotch. The fact that she had only used my first
and middle names told me I still had a slight chance at escaping the death
penalty.
      "Yes Ma'am!" my survival instinct answered for me. I just had time to
give his shorts and harness a final squeeze before he climbed off my lap.
     I tried to climb out of the chair, but let out a groan and fell back
into it, my balls not only felt like they weighed as much as bowling balls,
but seemed to be compressed into maybe baseball size and hurt like nothing
I had ever felt. When I finally managed to struggle to my feet Peter was
just setting a pen down on the computer hutch. He thrust a picture into my
hand, pointed at part of the writing scribbled on it, flashed me one of his
almost evil grins and pushed his shoulder under my armpit letting me use
him as a crutch as I tried to learn to walk bowlegged.
     I managed to recover somewhat, and seemed to be able to walk fairly
normally by the time we joined our mothers in the entry hall. Although my
nipples objected somewhat, I felt relieved, maybe free when Mrs Coreday
used her key to release me from my harness, and after a quick goodby and
sneaking a final swipe of my hand across Peter's leather clad hip followed
my mother across their porch.
     "You seem to have had a good time, I'm glad you and Peter get along so
well.  Are you two going to... hang out together?" Mom said as we walked
toward the street. I cringed slightly, Mom's formal, businesslike voice did
not work well when she tried to use teenage slang.
     "Yeah, he's nice. I kinda wanta." I mumbled. I hesitated, trying to
get my mind back together, and to find the right words. "You wouldn't put
me one of those things on me, would you? Those harness thingy."
     "They are pretty handy!" made me stop dead in my tracks. "And you were
very well behaved wearing it!" sent a cold shiver through my body.
     She let me stew for a second or two before pulling me against
her. "I'm teasing sweetie."  she giggled like a teenage girl.
     "Uh well, but, I don't want to get put in that thing again, even
there. Maybe you can tell Mrs Coreday, well, tell her I don't need it?
Maybe you can tell her not to do it again?"
     She gently squeezed my shoulder. "Kind of want to, not kinda wanta."
she snickered.  "Maybe some of Peter's grammar will wear off on you."
     We walked silently for a couple of seconds, and I began trying to
think of another way to approach the subject. "Please consider what I told
you this morning, that Mrs Coreday is along way from home, and is just
protecting her son. I would be willing to bet as they begin to settle in,
and she feels more comfortable with her surroundings, that she will give
her son more freedom."
     'Great, I didn't want a lecture.' I silently groaned, sure that she
was getting off onto one of her long winded sermons.
     "But, when you are a guest in someone's home, you must abide by their
wishes. And, I'm sure you know that when you are Mrs Coreday's guest, I
expect you to do everything she tells you to."
     Her comment made my heart sink, she was taking the grownups side.  I
ran my fingers over my chest as we started up the porch steps of our house,
I could almost feel the nylon straps still imprisoning it. 'No way, no one
is gonna strap me back in one of those things.' I promised myself. 'Maybe
she'll chill and quit using those things, then maybe we can be friends.' I
decided.
     Mom turned me so I was facing her, and when she did the sun reflecting
off of something bright across the street distracted me. When I looked the
reflection was off of Peter's highly polished shorts. Leashed to his
mother, they were arranging some planting pots on their front porch. My
mother said something to me, but I was so absorbed in reliving the memory
of how wonderful his round, firm buns felt inside their soft leather second
skin, and how great his mouth and lips tasted I have no idea what she
said. That now familiar fire in my gut melted my heart when he turned
around, pulled his leash taught against his keeper's wrist and gave me a
bright smile along with a shy wave. 'Um, well' I thought.
     Thankfully Mom's chores didn't take long, all I had to do was fold a
load of clothes and sweep a little. Mom was in her home office cackling
away on her phone when I finished, so I drifted up into my bedroom. I
looked out my window for several seconds hoping to see Peter again, but
when he didn't appear walked over to my computer desk and picked up the
picture he had given me.
     As I studied it I remembered the scene in the first movie that it was
taken from, when Harry, Ron, Hermione and the other students were first
trying to use their magic wands to levitate feathers. Peter was sitting at
a desk right behind Hermione, his wand pointed toward a feather on his
desk. 'To my new Yank friend, Love Peter' his inscription read. I wondered
what a 'yank' was, and what he meant as I enjoyed the sight of his face,
and the memory of his wonderful body against mine.
     I read his autograph a couple more times before I remembered him
pointing out the 'Y' in his autograph. After studying it for a few seconds
I noticed an extra downward loop in his pen, and the more I looked at it
the more I realized it could read either '... new Yank friend' or '...new
wank friend'.
     I bolted back to my bedroom window, hoping he had come outside, but he
hadn't. I considered rushing back across the street to try to talk to him,
but his mother's stern face, and the risk of being seen with my horse
bridle told me not to. I tried to ignore my nipples pointing out as they
rubbed against my shirt, and the fire returning to my groin as I rushed to
my computer.
     "No!" I groaned after I typed 'wank' into my search engine and Mom's
Net Nanny reared its ugly face and blocked my search. After trying a few
other engines and word combinations, all blocked by Mom's cursed censoring
program, I dug through the back of my closet where I had hidden my school
supplies from my sight for the summer until I found my dictionary,
something I had only used two or three times during school, the last thing
I thought I would ever read during summer vacation. I felt my entire being
drain into my lower abdomen when I realized 'Wank' wasn't listed.
     I even tried stroking my boyhood over my shorts as I tried to think of
a way to solve the puzzle, to find out what wank meant, but every way I
tried didn't do anything to me like Peter's magic fingers had. I tried
'wizard' and 'wank' on my search engines, but again was blocked.
     'Wow, maybe only wizards got wanks' I told my hot, stiff
boyhood. 'We're gonna learn what they are, or how, I promise!' I told my
little friend as I rubbed him and stared at my bedroom window. 'I gotta
know!' I groaned.
     "Clay, supper is almost ready, please come set the table." my mother's
voice echoed from downstairs.
     "Yes ma'am!" the automatic part of my brain answered.
     I had to cup my balls in my hand, they felt like they were pressurized
to the point of breaking, and weighed a ton each as I stood up, but somehow
managed to stager downstairs. 'I don't care if its just for wizards or
whoevers, I HAVE GOT to figure out how to do that!' I decided as I hobbled
my way around our dining room. The memory of Peter's wonderful little body,
his skin-tight shirt and painted on leather shorts, even the feel of the
harness I had been locked into rubbing across my nipples kept me going as I
laid out our supper dishes.
     As I began inspecting the table to be sure I hadn't forgotten anything
I could feel the loop handle of his leash on my wrist, then his hands
cupping my my crotch.
     Without realizing it I reached down and grasp myself. 'Please, you got
to teach me, tomorrow!' I mentally begged my new friend.

Yes, a few new twists. Thanks for everyone's responses to part 1, but I
received a few mixed responses. NO child abuse, or hard core bondage I
promise, but should I continue now?  Let me know.  cmiles_21@yahoo.com