At five o'clock the next evening Doreen shouted up the stairs that Carl's taxi had arrived. She had given Carl a particularly rigorous milking that morning then pored over his body for the slightest sign of a hair but had foregone the afternoon milking, perhaps so as not to ruin the experience Helen's mother had bought for her daughter at the auction. Carl could sense that Doreen was feeling sensitive about letting him out of her control for the first time, even though it had been her idea to auction him, which meant she was a little frosty with him, something that always really hurt.
Carl came down the stairs looking -- Doreen thought -- stunning. He was scrubbed and clean-looking, his hair still wet from the shower, wearing a tight polo shirt that showed off his nipples and the skin-tight chinos that showed off pretty much everything else. She almost changed her mind about sending him out into the hands of another woman -- a girl in his own class and her friends! -- but thought the embarrassment of explaining why she had had a change of heart and the whole issue of the money that had been paid was too much. She would just have to bite her lip and wait for him to come home.
She had already signed a waiver to say that the 'purchaser' could do whatever they liked with Carl excluding using his penis for penetration. As much as she had put Carl through over the last few weeks, he was, as far as she knew, still a virgin. And it did seem that to take that from him was a bit much, especially when the person doing it had just paid money not put in weeks of work like Doreen had: if anyone was going to take that particular honour, it was going to be her.
'Well, be good...' she said to him as he stood at the front door, waiting for her permission to leave.
'I'll try,' he replied with a smile so heartbreakingly cute Doreen couldn't help herself reaching up to kiss him full on the mouth while caressing the obvious bulge in his trousers almost as a final goodbye to this penis and these balls that had brought her so much pleasure over the last however long it was. She felt the predictable stirring in Carl's trousers and took a long look at the growing bulge before she opened the door and ushered him out to the taxi.
...
Kevin was not 'owned' in the way that Carl was and he had spent the week doing his best to hide from his mother what had happened at the auction -- the stripping, the groping, the milking -- and what was due to happen to him now that he had been 'sold'. He didn't know if she'd been told of what had gone on but he said nothing and she said nothing either.
During the week, he and Carl had been texting each other. Superficial stuff to start with, new friend stuff, then they touched on what had happened at the auction, how it had felt and soon they were communicating on a deeper level about their feelings, their need for attention, the thrill they got when a woman took control of their body, of the strange erotic shame of being displayed and played with. Even talking about it made Kevin hard and during some of their text conversations he would be wanking his thick cock just picturing the things that they were talking about. Carl told him of some of his own experiences at the hands of Doreen, her friends, the people at the conference, the girls in the biology lesson and the art class and Kevin couldn't help but feel envious, imagining himself being exploited like that.
When his mother called him down because there was a taxi waiting, he got a thrill strong enough to make his cock thicken in the new underwear he had bought especially. They had been expensive but he thought that if he was going to be seen in them then it was worth it. And even he had to admit that the tight, white, stretchy fabric did make his penis look incredible: you could see everything from the ridge of the helmet to the tube running underneath that would presumably soon be pumping semen for the enjoyment of some old ladies.
As he ran down the stairs to go out to the cab, his mother caught sight of him. 'Where are you going in a taxi looking so handsome?' she said casually, which made him think she had no idea about the auction or about what he was going out to do now.
'Oh, just out with friends,' he said. 'I shouldn't be late.' Then he was out of the door and almost running down the garden path towards the waiting taxi.
...
When Carl's taxi pulled up in front of Helen's house, he realised how her mother could afford such a lavish present for her daughter's 18th birthday. It was massive. These people were loaded. He walked to the front door, rang and waited. His heart was beating and, even though he didn't find Helen in the least bit attractive, he had to admit he was excited about what was about to take place.
The door eventually opened and it was Helen's mother, who seemed excited herself. 'It's him!' she shouted over her shoulder as she ushered Carl into a huge entrance hall. As he took in the surroundings, he could tell she was appraising him: his face, his chest with the prominent nipples, the trousers with the prominent bulge and, he supposed, as she got him to go ahead of her, his backside.
He walked into a huge sitting room where Helen and two other young women were waiting with glasses of wine on the table in front of them. 'Look who I found outside...' said Helen's mother, thinking she was being funny. Helen, in some sort of dress with long white socks, which looked a bit weird and babyish on an 18-year-old girl, rolled her eyes, every bit the teenager. 'Where do you want him?' added Helen's mother, positioning Carl in front of the girls who simply sat and looked at this tall, beautiful young man standing in front of them in clothes so tight they could practically see right through them.
The two friends -- Lucy, a milk-white girl with glasses who was so thin and pale you could almost see through her, and Dee, who was darker skinned with what looked like facial hair -- had only ever seen Carl at school and he had clearly never noticed them before. Now he was here for their pleasure. Their hearts beat almost visibly.
...
As Kevin's car drew up to Restful Beeches, he was actually a little impressed. He'd always thought old people's homes would be dreary-looking places but this was quite big, had a fairly nice garden and even if there were obvious signs of older people -- railings everywhere, a ramp up to the front door -- it basically looked like a fairly grand private home.
He rang the bell and through the glass door saw Lily, the plump blonde who had milked him in front of everyone in the auction room, trotting towards him, ready to let him in. 'Oh, Kevin,' beamed Lily, 'you're right on time. We're waiting for you.'
She looked Kevin up and down, remembering holding his thick penis in her hand just the night before, putting her finger in his hole, coaxing that creamy sperm from him... then drinking it. She had thought about that all night: his sperm swimming around inside of her and now here he was again.
