by M. Christine
Her smiling face, which was very loving and sincere as well as beautiful, demonstrated no shame in what she just did. Will was dismayed to find that she was still dealing even though he took care of her financially.
“There is no need to do this anymore, I’m supporting you,” he said.
“Paul needs spending money.”
“To score? Paul is a doomed zombie,” Will blurted. “I don’t know the solution for him, but he is not even close to wanting to change.”
Ginger avoided looking at Will, declining to comment.
“I want to remind you that my life is on a good track. I also want to remind you that I am now co-owner of this house. If you get busted here, it will screw up my plans.”
His mother stayed quiet for a few minutes. She finally spoke, actually looking Will in the eye: “I’ll stop selling from the house.”
Will thought that was a good step, and they returned to their more lighthearted conversation. He left her feeling okay.
Ginger started selling drugs out of her car. Will found out just before Christmas because she was busted in an Arco parking lot. It was during his school break. She called him to bail her out. Will called Frances for legal help.
To say the least, Ginger was chagrined. She thanked Will and apologized profusely, acknowledging that he was so good to her and she nearly threw it all away.
“I’ve been such a bad mother,” she said.
To this, Will responded with an embrace, then holding and kissing her hand. She was so desperate, so used to being desperate that she couldn’t break free, even with full support. To this notion, Will felt so lucky. He had a chance, which he took, and it was paying off.
Though the car was impounded, and Will left it where it was, Frances’s lawyer pal got a reduced charge for Ginger. This was in exchange for her pleading guilty to trespassing, since she was in possession of a small quantity of the illegal stuff when she sold it to an undercover officer.
Will did not want to enable Ginger’s enabling, but he did need to focus on his career and weekend job, or there would be no taking care of Ginger at all. So, he regularly left spending money for her, thereby for Paul, to prevent the need for her to scrape it up via dealing. He was certain that Ginger wasn’t the only source of cash for Paul. He felt that until he finished school, Will would have to financially maintain the status quo of that damned house.
Chapter 17
Learning by Doing
Will made it through his second year of art school just fine.
Throughout that stretch he saw and did some revelatory things at Memorabilia. Will discovered he really liked spanking females all over their buttocks, close to their private parts and spread out to the thighs. He wasn’t a die-hard sadist, he just liked doing it—seeing his hand whack, watching a paddle or switch curdle the creamy flesh of some lusty partner, whose crotch oozed arousal with a well-executed spank session. Then he liked to fuck those heated crotches from behind, feeling the warmth of tanned hides against his thrusting flesh. He liked screwing them from the front, ordering a submissive gal to look him in the eye as she shuddered in a volcanic orgasm in response to the nonstop shoving of Will’s thick cock.
Once there was consent, Will liked calling the shots. He would order a comely slut to position this way or that and restrain her in inventive ways. He loved playing the evil professor when surveying sex-toy choices in the various supply cabinets situated throughout the private playrooms, though he refused to beat anyone up or draw blood. Given how lacking his upbringing had been, it was a great high for Will to be in control during his numerous sex sessions, to assert the structure of the sex act. Though he could slip in and out of requested fantasy roles—a cad or rogue, a stern disciplinarian, the silent kidnapper satisfying a penchant for Madison specifically—with great skill, afterwards he treated his fuck buddies with the utmost respect and friendship, which had them lining up for more. There was even a waiting list of horny ladies who were ready anytime to submit to Will’s special brand of domination.
Another thing Will was terrific at was cunnilingus. He first discovered he liked watching it when a female couple put on a little bound exhibition. The recipient of the tongue was a submissive cheerleader type. She was a truly good time: blond and bubbly, her giggles would give the devil himself a raging boner. Her stern domme, a tall, super-sexy African American woman commanded the scene.
Lying on her back on a sort of gynecological examination table, the shaved sweetheart willingly offered each limb for buckled restraint on the steel stirrups. Her legs were stretched open wide, her bubble-gum pink glistening in anticipation at the edge of the table. At the head of the table the chick’s arms were bound out of the way, as they were useless. The dominatrix—who called herself The One—strutted around the table, telling the voyeurs in attendance that “this brat says she doesn’t like lesbian sex,” but she was going to publicly prove this wrong. The One made a couple more statements to humiliate the easy girl, whose pussy was clearly dripping, already betraying her supposedly secret desires. Of course everyone, spectators and exhibitionists alike, knew the truth: the girl was in no way a prude, but really loved being part of the smutty spectacle.
The One rolled up a medical stool and sat. With a broad, red-velvet tongue and luscious lips, she orally nuzzled the erect clit, then lapped at it, relentlessly manipulating the cartilage encased in the ultra-sensitive skin. To watch it was a fine anatomy and technical tutorial for Will, who noted how the sub’s yelps were high-pitched and her helpless legs twitched in the harnesses. Her pleasure sounds became guttural, indicating her body’s entry into a subzone of awesome. Still, The One licked her button exclusively. She touched nothing else on the body but continued tasting the clit, causing more blood to engorge her twat flesh. Then the blonde’s legs jerked distinctly as the orgasm quaked through her, outing her as gluttonously horny for any crotch attention.
Immediately after watching this, Will turned his sights on a wide-bottomed club-goer named Vicki. He saw her bare ass many times, but until then had not engaged sexually with her. Vicki was surprised to find Will staring at her. She had on leather harnesses showing off lots of D-rings—with leather cuffs on her wrists and ankles to enable easy lockups—crisscrossing all around her curvy torso, blatantly displaying boobs and a shaved slit. Her cleft trail looked long and mysterious to Will at that instant, and he was hoping Vicki would be into him objectifying her pussy.
He stood before Vicki and nodded with a wicked fun grin.
“I’d like to do some anatomical research,” Will informed her. “Will you sign up as a lab-study specimen?”
Vicki agreed and followed Will into one of the well-lit private rooms, which was stocked with more choices of bondage furniture. He directed her to recline on a medium-high table. When she did, he adjusted the extensions meant for leg restraint outward, so her ankles angled in that direction when Will fixed them to the apparatus. She wasn’t completely spread, but her pussy was obscenely splayed open, the bald outer lips separated like a split peach. Will knew she would be quite flexible. Prior to their coupling, he’d noticed her spread in all sorts of trying poses in the past.
“Scoot your bum to the edge,” he instructed.
Will locked her arms out of the way—there was no need for them—then found gloves, a dental dam and K-Y Jelly in the room’s cabinet. Vicki’s genitals were slickening up just by being bound. She was an enthusiastic Memorabilia regular who was thrilled to hook up with Will.
Will noisily yanked on the gloves, making sure his specimen heard the familiar yet clinical sound of lubricant squirting out of a bottle. Vicki’s swelling organs were hot, which made Will’s intrusion all the better when he rubbed the cold jelly around the walls of her vagina with two confident fingers.
“Stay still,” Will ordered. He felt her muscles contract around his digits and saw her haunches jiggle.
He stuck four fingers in her, acting indifferently like a doctor would. Once that fun step was done, he set
upon getting to know the clitoris. The cluster of nerve endings was engorged, the hood pulled back slightly with the force of erection. Will poked at it with his plastic-covered index finger, feeling the hardness. He pinched it with all five fingers of one hand, then the other, mashed it, then went back to one finger.
“There’s the glans,” he said aloud, as if instructing a physiology class, ignoring Vicki’s blissful whimpers.
After removing his gloves, Will unwrapped the dam. He primed her already-juicy cunt with more lube and spread the plastic over it. He traced each curve and valley of her squished private anatomy. Will arranged the plastic to allow a finger-width of room inside her vagina on either side of the distended clit. He placed his peace sign into this recess, isolating her button, holding firm and watching an increase of saturation under the dam. Will began to stroke her with this hand configuration, keeping steady, noting how the clitoris became fuller. Without missing a move, he nabbed a doctor-style stool with his foot. Before sitting down, he unleashed his cock from his trousers, then stroked himself while he settled into open-crotch level. He withdrew his fingers from her and applied his wide tongue to her very needy, very stiff clit.
Vicki’s breaths became gasps, her mouth gobbled at the air, her tethered body thrashed against the restraints. Will manipulated her fascinating boner, feeling how hard and powerful it was. Such a teeny thing had such an immense physical demand on her body—it was blood-rushed and puffy, desperate for touch.
With all the circumstances compounded—alpha Will, the unexpected oral sex, being bound—it did not take long for the submissive female’s clit to reach a tumultuous climax, twisting uncontrollably through her body. Noises of pleasure, nothing that resembled words, shamelessly filled the space around them. Will, not yet satisfied with his pussy gander, kept lapping with his eyes wide, aware of the soaked underside of the dam. Vicki struggled somewhat, since her sensitive tissue was being nudged and licked, each push of cunnilingus racking her body with a mix of tickle and aggravation. The dilemma was hot to Will: he persisted in tonguing her clit, handling his dick in unison to Vicki’s grunts of distress. His turn to orgasm came, and he rose up and jacked his copious load onto the latex square, aiming much of it over her teased clit.
“Oooh, that’s so hot!” Vicki managed to say.
In what was becoming one of his trademarked practices, Will let her wallow bound in all her—and his—dripping juices while he silently freshened up. Then the sweet part of Will came over to Vicki, where he bent over her face to plant a passionate kiss and discreetly undid her straps. He gently helped her up as if from the examination table after a trying procedure, and offered her the chance to clean up. Once on her feet, he kissed her again, feeling quite close after such an intimate viewing. Though she was realistic about the encounter, Vicki was dizzy with Will’s affections, which were so sincere, even if only for the moment, and gratifying.
“You really gave this submissive a treat,” she swooned as he held her in a strong, kingly embrace.
He made his departure clear when he pulled out of their making out and pecked her on the nose. Will held her hand as they exited the space, but dropped it when they reached the common kinky area. A wink bid her adieu, then he baled from Memorabilia. Curious club-goers gathered around her and she gladly spilled the beans.
After this, Will’s rep as a topnotch oral-sex enthusiast sent a collective girl hard-on throughout the Memorabilia community. As if he wasn’t already enough of an attraction to maintain healthy business, scads more ladies purchased the pricey club membership with hopes of their crotches being subjected to forced orgasms by the renown Will. He was the pussy and clit master of the establishment, always pushing the creative boundaries when it came to delighting a twat. Of course, there was his talented dick and knee-weakening male magnetism—and his spanking skills kept him busy. Even if hopefuls did not get a turn to have their hides tanned, they ogled the Don Juan from afar. Unbeknownst to Will, some admirers would watch him and openly masturbate in a play area, publicly indulging in their unrequited lust for him.
During down time, he had enlightening discussions with Helene and Ivy about the desires that drove folks to be part of kinky social scenes like Memorabilia, erotic fetishism, and BDSM in general.
“The bottom has so many nerve endings,” Helene said once. “Light spanks or even heavy-handed wallops can really get a decadent off.”
“I can climax with just a spanking—it’s heavenly,” Ivy confirmed. “And if I have to ask permission to come, it’s even more explosive. The pleasurable heights the mind and body can reach are boggling.”
“Some of the women I’ve hooked up with are so cool, so together mentally,” Will noted. “I guess that’s why I’m attracted to them, too.”
“And why you’re so wisely repulsed by the actress,” Helene said.
“Right. The friends I’ve made here, their lives, however wild, are in order. I like order. It’s why I feel more at home here than with my family.” Will’s expression went sad, and there was a moment of quiet.
“You are a joy!” Ivy said.
Helene got up and kissed Will on the forehead, like Glinda the Good. She hugged him, patting his back. The motherly gesture felt good, along with the caring words from Ivy.
Because of the Memorabilia bookkeeping, the managers were happily noting the throngs of new members interested in their house hunk. So, Will enjoyed his third year of school with a huge pay increase. He was as well-to-do and celebrated as Yuri, who couldn’t have been more glad for his loyal pal’s good fortune.
At the end of that year, right at the beginning of summer, Will and Yuri went to a party inside the ballroom of an architecturally landmarked hotel. It was a mix of personality types: artists, punks, musicians, porn people. There were also mainstream Hollywood folks in attendance. It crossed Will’s mind that he might see some Memorabilia rich girls there, like Madison or Sammie, so he attended with a funny feeling of apprehension. It felt like something curious was going to happen, but he wasn’t sure which way his premonition pointed.
“Allo blokes!” Biff Wellington honked into their ears, startling both Yuri and Will. His dorky head, along with the top hat, intruded the space between them. His scarecrow arms, decked in a tattered, elbow-patched Artful Dodger coat, propped heavily on their shoulders in an obnoxious forced-hug. He pulled both guys closer to him and managed to get a selfie, the flash capturing their facial expressions of stun and annoyance. After the photo, Will and Yuri wriggled out of his grip. Biff started blathering on, but Will could not really hear what he said because the party was well underway. It became apparent that Biff was describing a film shoot he accomplished that day, as his hands were miming various obscene acts—hands filled with boobs, air jerk-off motions, and his middle finger poking a mock orifice with his other hand, eventually busting through as if a hole was being fisted up to the elbow. Great guffaws coming from Biff’s yap confirmed that he was in full-knucklehead mode, and that the guys would need all their patience to remain in his company.
Yuri got the trio to migrate to a patio for air as well as a break from watching Biff compete with the party noise. They found a concrete balustrade to lean up against. Biff pulled out cigs, offered them to his companions, which they refused. He lit one up, blowing the first puff up into the fresh night air. The freshness didn’t last, as Biff tried to impress them with porn gossip. He was shameless in his flattery for Yuri.
Will basically tuned him out, relaxing by looking up at the night sky. His heart quickened at the sight of a sliver of the moon, a delicate crescent at the start of its cycle. A couple stars flanked the celestial body, one with a warm-hued tinge, the other brilliant and flickering.
“Is that Venus?” Will said, looking down to address the guys.
But that was the moment he saw a young woman. She sauntered out on the patio, scoping it out but locking eyes with no one. She was lithe, with dark skin and sleek hair perfectly divided in two neat braids. Creeper-style shoe
s on her feet accentuated her lean long legs, which ended at high hips in hot pants that were surprisingly tasteful on her. Her legs led to a compact, curvy, wonderfully fertile torso covered by a calico angel top. Her outfit was perfect but looked effortless. Her face was a bit haughty: upturned nose, almond eyes, and striking cheekbones.
Will wondered if she was looking for a dude. He watched her maneuver and finally discover a bench, then put her purse down to claim it. She stayed standing, awaiting a companion. A cute but timid-looking girl appeared at the doorway to the patio. She was a light-skinned African American, noticeably unsteady on her feet.
“Claudia!” she called in a tone that suggested she was yearning for assistance.
The girl Will was enamored with waved and walked to her. The other girl stepped with a pronounced limp, demonstrating that she had one leg shorter than the other. Claudia went to her side, locked arms, and escorted her to the bench. Claudia’s demeanor changed when looking at her friend, from being aloof to exuding all love and devotion and care. The display hooked Will all the more.
Biff noticed that Will was entranced and took a gander at Claudia himself.
“You like that bird?” Biff said. “She’s part Malaysian or Indonesian. Good luck, though. She’s in a green-card marriage some bloke talked her into. Who knows why, it’s not for money—she works in animation.”
Will noted that that was something they had in common.
“And her pop’s a rich Fagin.”
Both Yuri and Will had puzzled expressions.
