Instrument of Pleasure

Instrument of Pleasure

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Houses:

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Houses:

Summary

In 2157, a man reflects on the past six years and his two favorite experiences while working in a brothel.

Summary

In 2157, a man reflects on the past six years and his two favorite experiences while working in a brothel.

Content

Submitted: August 05, 2017

A A A | A A A

Content

Submitted: August 05, 2017

A A A

A A A


Instrument of Pleasure

 

It all begins for me in 2151 when I turn nineteen.  For some, that may seem mighty young to enter this sort of business, but you would be stunned by the novice ages mistresses take in studs and dudes at the brothels in the mega-cities.  The more tender, the better to mold, so the saying goes amongst these business women. 

Honestly, the best grooming age I hear is sixteen though they would never admit it.  By eighteen, a stud hits his stride in poking the cave of wonders, coasting in his prime.  At twenty, he’s already considered old.  Hence, I am already far behind my counterparts in experience and training when I enter the sensual world of pleasing the modern woman.  A disadvantage in some ways, but I am far superior in my maturity.  I can better control myself and use it to my advantage.

Mistresses like mine and the women I serve at her brothel in Chicago, tend to like us at least eighteen.  Part of the reason is that the younger we are, the more eager we are to please but also control our excitement.  Really tireless we studs and dudes are in our efforts once brought into the ranks.  We want to make a good impression to be kept and used.  Far too green, we haven’t learned the fine art of how to play the game of pleasure to our advantage.  Pacing ourselves is key to avoiding burnout.  That particular skill I master well by 2157, and believe me, it’s well-earned.

As you may expect, I’ve been a dude at this particular ranch for six years now.  Very few ever last this long at this profession.  Many get worn out, you know.  So many women outnumber us.  No stud or dude alive has enough cum to please them all.  Some of us try though very happily fucking ourselves into a hernia.  Ha! 

All kidding aside, most dudes start shooting blanks or go completely sterile after two years of non-stop fucking day in and out.  What good is a dude that cannot reproduce?  No good to my mistress who specializes in dudes ripe for giving a fruitful seed.  These dudes end up traded to other brothels and convert to studs to get some value out of them.

Some studs and dudes are very lucky.  They happen upon or connect with a rich client who takes a particular liking to him.  She may even buy his contract from a mistress so that the dude may only service her.  This is rare, but it does happen once in a blue moon.  Sometimes we fall in love with the client, and it’s mutual affection that binds.  Sometimes it’s only the business of reproduction where there’s huge profit. 

Times are tough all over.  The wars in the previous century created a sort of genocide that severely hampered the birth rate around the world.  The result was a high ratio of women to men.  More scientific solutions in reproduction (such as cloning) that had its own horrible results of shortening life spans followed.  Couple that with pockets of sterile men and women, and there surfaced little hope for the future of mankind. 

Many like my mistress and I capitalize on a needy yet affluent market.  Not all the clientele are super wealthy either.  They realize my value and are willing to pay for it without question though. 

No, the dude ranch where I work is not like Spartacus out of the mega-city of New York.  From what I’ve heard, that is the classiest brothel ever established.  That place comes with a renowned reputation for having the finest studs and dudes all dressed in authentic gladiator gear of leather and chains. 

Only the extremely wealthy can afford such high priced stock since they are purported to be the fittest, full of cum, and the best gene pool on the planet.  A tall order for some to make Spartacus a destination.  Women from all over the world year after year, spend a small fortune for one hour with them in and out of character.  From rumors, I learn Spartacus even holds mock fights in arena stage plays.  The studs and dudes also engage in debaucherous orgies to one-on-one action.  They basically perform any hedonistic fantasy to please their clients. 

My dude ranch services the regular women of the midwest hub who work hard but can afford something special.  But only the best of these ever have the privilege to retain me in a session leaving me somewhat exclusive.  And those who do always come back for more of me. 

At first, when the bandit Yardley found me in the wastes of St. Louis, I tried to escape more than once from the slavers.  Everyone outside the wall heard the horror stories of what happened to men if caught.  They were forced to be slaves never to be seen again.

My family were farmers and had been for several generations.  The bandits out there took what little we produced.  Without protection offered by the bandits, they killed our people when we dared fight back.  The smart ones paid security fees in fresh organic foods and spring water to survive.  My father was one of those, but one bad year turned the tide.  Dad could not pay; otherwise, we would have starved.  That meant that he owed an enormous debt to the unforgiving bandit lord.  Without protection, the bandits pillaged our stores and killed my parents. 

I believed the same fate was to be mine.  Their murder haunts me to this day in how each was shot in the head in front of me.  Once alive and then a moment later dead in the dust.  I faced the barrel of the same gun that killed them.  It still was smoking.  In my anger and anguish, I spat at the shooter refusing to plead for my life although I was scaried.  On the contrary, I told the son of a bitch to pull the trigger. 

What followed were stars instead of more bullets firing.  When I woke with a vicious headache, I realized that I failed.  Death was not meant for me despite me strongly wanting it.  The bandits captured me to help pay off my father’s debt to their lord.  I believed Dad already paid with his life, but the bandit lord didn’t see it that way. 

At auction, I sold rather quickly.  Several tests run on me declared me a rare find.  I was clean of infections and rated high in sperm count.  The stamp tatooed on the back of my wrist labeled me a dude.  Murmurs of my tanned body being both lean with some tone to my muscles appealed to them viewing me from behind the dark glass.  I don’t know if it had any bearing at all, but I'd be remiss to mention that I am very pleasing to look at with my dark hair and dark eyes. 

The first year I become a dude under my mistress, I pay off my debt to her.  In the second year, I begin to slowly make a reputation for myself.  Word of mouth spreads, and I am in demand.  My profits double for my mistress, which leaves her very pleased with her purchase of me. 

The truth is my mistress provides all my needs.  She offers the best house for me to live that is bigger and towers over the other stock.  Mistress provides the best care for my hair and skin.  Personal trainers are assigned to me to help keep me fit and a chef to prepare all my meals. 

The rumors never speak of this other side where I am pampered and comfortable.  They never spoke of how in such a position I could ask for more in my fair share of the profits derived from my work.  Or imagine the possibility that such a request would be granted!  No wonder no one ever heard from any captured men again.  Why would I ever seek to leave this paradise based on my merits while enclosed within the protective mega-city's walls?

Once over the fear of my arrangement, I realize it’s unfounded.  Also during this discovery process, I gather that my services are noble.  Can you imagine?  I live like a king since my cock and knowledge of how to use it to pleasure women is well valued.  The added bonuses are all the successful pregnancies of my clients!  Babies are precious and highly sought after even on my side of the wall where I was born.  There are so few in our society just like men.

Naturally, I come to appreciate this arrangement.  Seeing easily that freedom means poverty, starvation, or slavery, I like very much being used for sex and my seed on this side of the wall.  In particular, I love how these women, some aesthetically beautiful, but most plain or average, worship my body and my cock.  I enjoy rewarding them great pleasure in their devotion to me.  To me, I see it as my sacred duty that only I could provide. 

With such a dedicated work ethic, I excel.  The women who come to see me usually experience multiple orgasms during our sessions.  The fact is that I don’t stop until they do.  No one leaves me unsatisfied.  My clients pay well for me, so I look forward to giving them my very best as a point of pride every time.

Is this hard work?  Are you kidding?  Okay, at first… I had a different view of the mega-cities and what they did to tender young males.  Mistress showed me the error of my thinking.  She made me understand the power I carry to shape my life however I want.  At the same time, she made it clear that I’m vital, and my services are craved and needed. 

I enjoy it, too.  There’s no better feeling in the world to me.  It is a gift we men have been given to pleasure women.  Over six years later, I still feel that way.

Are there any sessions that stand out in my mind?  My clients and their sessions are numerous yet memorable.  One set that immediately comes to mind involve two buxom blonds.  She’s a dirty blond mother who brings her golden-haired daughter to me for the first time.  The setting for our session is outside in the pool. 

The mother Gretchen and I usually see each other once every two weeks.  If I remember this right, her daughter Beverly had been away at college.  She returns to Chi-town, graduated with honors and works for her mother at the small family boutique.  Gretchen sells the clothes and jewelry that she designs and handcrafts. 

These hourglass women look like sisters wearing scarily more than thong swim suits with tiny triangles over their tight little nipples.  We play for a time in the cool blue waters during a hot summer day.  We ate finger foods and drank wine enjoying our time together exploring each other before no thin material stood in our way.

“Open wider, Bev, dear,” the mother teaches.  The daughter does as instructed while moaning up and down my shaft. 

Once again the mother demonstrates how to deep throat me while I float along the edge of the pool.  Gretchen gags.

Beverly’s blue eyes go wide with wonder.  “Wow, Mom!  My turn!” she says eagerly and deep throats me like her mother. 

Beverly tastes my cum for her diligent efforts and declares she wants more.  I am happy to oblige while her mother rides my tongue when we lay stretched naked beside the pool. 

Such simultaneous aggression from these hot women fills me with renewed vigor.  I’m glad to make this experience the best for all of us.  At my leisure and their torment, I taste both mother and daughter who exchange many times riding my engorged cock and face together.  More orgasms follow for them.  Both were happy to make my cock happy with their tongues in gratitude along with the caress of their big tits in sandwiches. 

So hot from our activity, we take a dip in the cool pool so that I may finish the session by lining them up at the edge of the pool.  Gripping the edge, both women take my last sowing from behind until they both come hard on my cock.  The mother insists that I fill the daughter with my cum when I am ready not wanting any of it to go to waste. 

Afterward, they schedule their own private time with me and still do.  In my view, nothing trumps that first experience of pleasing both women and letting them take their pleasure from me however they saw fit.  It’s an eye opener.  Considerable control and coordination are needed for that kind of session, but I love being up for the challenge.  Ha!

With each new experience, I learn the common denominator.  On some level, my clients enjoy the fantasy of me desiring them above all others.  In the moment, I do.  There is no other before them and no other after them.  Once within my chambers, I am theirs alone.  Gladly, I tell them how I love their bodies and the pleasure I derive with them.  It’s all true. 

Does any one client stand out?  Sure.  There is always one.  For me, it’s Leslie without question. 

Mistress presents her to me like a bride covered in sheer wrapping like a present.  She lays before me on a marble table like a sacrifice.  Weird but hey I go with it.  The ranch has several chambers that have different themes to help along a particular fantasy our clients have.  Leslie’s body glistens in oil infused with musk that fills the room.  Mixed in her own aroused scent, it makes me hard in desire for her. 

Leslie’s body holds firm medium-sized breasts, one slightly bigger than the other with large areoles and perfect nipples.  They are perky making my mouth water every time she toys with them in sensuous circles.  My cock grows harder as I stroke it although I discover later that she’s an older woman.  Her hips are wider than her narrow shoulders, but Leslie’s ass makes me drool when she turns it to me.  Her legs are not so long but shapely like she works out.  Her hair is short, curly and colored a bright Auburn. 

The face beneath the veil is not flawless or even remarkable like the others I’ve seen in my time.  It has character though with the straight nose and cute bow of Leslie’s lips.  Her eyes though blaze with a strange mixture of blue and green.  Passion and fear fought for dominance within them.

“Will you be gentle with me, great conqueror?” she asked in a high but sexy voice.

For some reason, it helps her to pretend that she’s a virgin ready for the sacrifice of her purity to the gods.  It’s not the first time I fall into the role of willing priest eager to sow my seed and breach her untouched walls.  Hell, if they want me to be the voracious conqueror who plunders her treasure that could be arranged, too.  Some clients like when I force them to submit to me and make them my slave.  I find it fun pretending to be someone else, and it even heightens the sex to lose ourselves in the roles we play.

“No, seductress, I will not.”

She giggles as she shimmies in front of me in her provocative dance.  She raises and lowers one hip and then the other.  I am hypnotized. 

This virgin though slaps her own bum as she rides my cock.  A different turn but not one that displeases me in the least.  Her breast rising and falling before my eyes are a voyeur’s candy.  My hands can’t stop the need for cupping them and tormenting those nipples I chewed as often as she let me.  It is not often as she forcefully grabs my wrists and holds them down beside my head still riding my hard cock from tip to base slowly then faster.  A little feel of only my head as she hovers.  Shallow rises only for half my cock and then full on thrusts with the smacking sound of her ass meeting my thighs and ball sack. 

“Yes!” she cries with each thrust as my hips grind up to meet her.

“Take it all, seductress!” 

Do I prefer being in control?  No.  I prefer what Leslie offers.  It makes me harder, but she will not let me come.  It’s worse but so good!  She fills the quiet corners of my chamber with her bliss at her thorough tease.  I guess not knowing what to expect she remained silent up until that first time she climaxed with my cock held deep inside her inner chambers.  I wrongfully thought she would be exhausted and should take it slow.  Ha!

After what feels like hours of denial, Leslie demands my cum with each wild buck.  She takes control and from me what she desires.  Heeding her cues, I willingly give her all my seed.  She’s so delicious gripping me within her tight cave.  I love every minute of ushering her to the limits of her desire but only half as well as she ushers me to mine. 

Yeah, no one in my experience ever wore me down so completely.  Leslie is tame only at the beginning.  After the wildness takes hold, she rides me ragged in every position that suits her.  Constantly she fills her tight little cave with my able cock that loves her enthusiasm.  That first day with her, I am glad no other clients follow her.  Whenever she’s booked, I make sure to reserve her on the day where I taste her lust alone without fear of losing profit.  Mistress more than makes up for the charge of Leslie taking so much of my time. 

The clients older than Leslie are great as well.  They keep me on my toes.  Many come with instructions.  They already know they want me to fuck their asses for ten minutes and then finish with a hard pounding in their pussies.  For them, I find it easy to fall into the role of their fantasy and do as I am directed.  In contrast, the younger more inexperienced ones are difficult because they still discover what gets them off.  While I have more freedom to do whatever I want to them to get them to cum I just needed to make sure they love it.  They always do.

As a dude, my top priority is to impregnate.  This could not be all the time because so many women were not fertile.  I do have a much higher rate of success with the younger clients.  Sure, I forfeit the rights to my children, but that doesn’t matter.  With these wealthy women, my kids lead better lives than I ever would.  They are raised without struggle, and cherished always.

It pleases me to know my success as a premier dude.  I pleasure my women like no other at the ranch and sire progeny worthy of life.  Able off-spring derive from my loins and see to the flourish of our species instead of further decline.  It honors me that I can provide babies to my clients who desperately want them. 

My reward?  As I’ve said before, I’m treated well.  Protected.  Prized.  Wanted.  Satisfied.

How can I complain?  My life is filled with giving and taking pleasure.  At last, my life holds meaning beyond survival!  A purpose that’s good and noble is mine!  I am the instrument of pleasure, and I love it!


© Copyright 2017 Amy F. Turner. All rights reserved.

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