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When I shifted my arms she smiled, revealing how well she understood me and my youthful organ. Just the act of carrying her books, serving her, precipitated an odd form of arousal and she knew it. She planned it. She expected it. And I found her to be frustratingly correct in her unannounced assessment...that a part of my psyche enjoyed serving her...being with her...performing for her...yet fearing her.
We entered her house by way of the side door.
“The basement, James. I’ll be back.”
She pointed down a flight of stairs then took my books and hers. I stepped down into darkness. After three steps the lights came on from a click above and I could see to weave my way past various cloth draped items of storage.
I had been in Eve’s basement before but always when her mother was home and when we were engaged in some form of harmless play on a rainy afternoon.
Now the circumstances were more earnest.
In the far end, I knew there was an open area and I instinctively moved there. Eve would want some space. And it is interesting to realize in my reminiscence that the particular section was the best lit part of the basement, with a large fluorescent light fixture above and a comfortable old shag rag on the floor.
Why did I stand there without being so directed?
I looked about at Eve’s nearby doll collection, which filled the shelves of an old bookcase. An interesting juxtaposition, I thought. The toys of Eve’s childhood situated where she was about to display a most precocious level of sexual curiosity.
After a moment, Eve came down the stairs. She carried a notebook and as promised it was filled with photos. We sat on the rug and she opened the cover.
“I’ve made copies which are well hidden so don’t think you can run off with these,” she cautioned. “But I can make more copies for you if you’d like.”
Eve’s offer was ignored as my attention quickly turned to her camera work. My face flushed with shame as she turned the pages. Unfolding before me was the entire photographed sequence, some of which was unfamiliar to me since on that Saturday morning I had closed my eyes with the overwhelming combination of humiliation and ecstasy. And of course, as each photo became progressively more sordid, my ‘Little Dicky’ responded as expected, which Eve was waiting to see. She noticed me fidget as the sensitive tip became entrapped in my underwear.
“No one’s home, James. You’ll feel more comfortable showing it to me. It’s so cute when it stands for me. You can take off all your clothes down here. Mother won’t be home for hours. No one will see you but me.”
I hesitated.
“You know you’ll feel better if you do, James. And of you don’t these photos can be mailed just about anywhere...”
Yes. I stripped. Naked. Completely. Nothing, not a stitch did she permit me. I tried to stop with a couple of undergarments remaining, but Eve wanted me completely naked. And what Eve wanted, Eve got. That I knew. Why I attempted to keep some covering I don’t know.
And when I finished, Little Dicky seemed to be larger and firmer than ever before, bringing a broad smile from Eve.
On that afternoon, Eve drew up a chair and calmly ensconced herself for the duration. There were no furtive glances needed as a precaution against neighbors or other interlopers. No one could interfere with her antics. Eve knew we were alone, that we would remain alone without interruption, and that she was in control.
“Move your hands away, James, I want to see it.”
So I just stood under the bright fluorescent lights and under went her thorough visual examination. My penis stood so straight for her...and once again the more I tried to avoid the shame of my tumescence the higher it seemed to stand.
Eve no longer giggled. I suppose over the years she had become seasoned. For her, my display no longer satisfied a girlish curiosity. Instead it seemed to be fulfilling a sexual need. A desire to observe and learn of the opposite sex. Unlike other girls, for Eve with this desire came the urge to control, to demonstrate authority not to mention the obvious enjoyment of my shame.
After a few moments she instructed me to turn to the side. I suppose the profile view highlighted my state of erection even more. And in complying with her demand, Eve seemed to take even more relish in her authority, realizing anew that the possession of the photos was an unlimited source of power over me. And I suppose they were.
She just made me stand there and I closed my eyes and subconsciously moved my hands to my sides.
“Why not just put your hands on your head and leave them there James. I want to look at your entire body.”
I guess I moved my hands so quickly that she was again impressed with her own power. For she began to make me move, to turn my back to her, spread my legs, bend over, kneel, and stand again.
A younger Eve would laugh and giggle with girlish trepidation of being in the presence of a nude boy. This Eve did not. Her orders were crisp, directed with clarity, and verbalized with the expectation that she would be obeyed. Which she was.
And ‘Little Dickey’ reacted in its characteristically embarrassing manner, standing at full attention the whole time.
D
I awake revitalized and still aroused. When I look over and see James fidgeting, I become more aroused. His cute erection remains standing which indicates to me that he is dreaming or hallucinating. He has found the harness to be comfortable, as expected.
I retreat to the sleeper car and change. James has not before seen me in black latex, and my skintight slacks and halter make quite the impression.
