Story: Johnny by Soulstroker

These were reposted from other Internet sources. I’m not sure about the original source.

Thinking quickly, he realized that he had the two perfect receptacles dangling between his fingers in the form of Mrs. Winter’s unusually large brassiere. He quickly positioned the bra cups in his left hand so that one would catch the powerful initial spurts and the other would hang below his testicles to catch the dribble which would naturally run off later. The immediate crisis now over, he closed his eyes and once again concentrated on enjoying the crisis to come. A few moments later, a gentle draft wafted over Johnny’s partially exposed body.

 

“My dear boy, what on earth are you doing with my underwear?”

Chapter 1 – Introduction and Background

Johnny was an atypical boy living in a typical American suburb. For starters, he was unusually shy for a boy of 18. Unlike many of his friends, he had no trouble talking to girls; the real problem lay in what happened afterwards. He attributed much of his shyness to the fact that he was born in England and spent his first nine years there. His English parents continued to raise him in a traditional English household even after they moved to the States. English values and customs, and above all, good manners, had been drilled into him. Viewing an American world through the haze of English etiquette – surely, he thought, that must be the reason.

The truth was, Johnny had a bit of a weight problem. Not too much, but enough that his self-esteem, especially around the opposite sex, had suffered. His grandmother had called him “portly.” He distinctly recalled a Christmas trip to Europe to visit her. She had given him a new pair of shorts for Christmas, and upon opening his gift she had loudly told him, in front of all his relatives, “I got you the ‘Husky’ size. You mustn’t let your weight become a problem, Johnny.” That moment had been seared into his memory with a powerful feeling of shame and guilt. Needless to say, his grandmother’s comments didn’t help his self-esteem much.

The following is an excerpt from a psychiatric evaluation of Johnny as conducted by Rebecca York of the firm Hartman, York & Associates. The evaluation was conducted in Johnny’s 5th year as an undergraduate at the University of California at Berkeley. At the time, Johnny’s grades had eroded to the point where he took a semester off to seek help for his various problems in the hopes of salvaging his academic career by graduating with a degree in electrical engineering.

As he grew into puberty, his lack of self-esteem and added pounds crashed head-on with his sexual awakening. He had no problem discussing mundane topics with girls and women. True, his conversational skills were inhibited when interacting with girls he was attracted to, but the real problem lay in the fact that he absolutely froze up when it came to sex, or even simple flirting. His fear of rejection was paramount. As a result, he discovered manual self-gratification at an early age. As hour after hour of sexual frustration and fear exhausted itself in masturbation, he elevated the deed to that of an art form. He privately joked with himself that if there were such a thing, he would surely be a contender for the title of ‘Grandmasturbator’.

As his habit continued, his self-esteem finally bottomed out, and depression set in. As a result, his grades began to slump too. A vicious self-perpetuating cycle had set in. As some of these records show, Johnny’s shyness only deepened and his sweet innocent youthfulness became compromised by a sense of hopelessness. Being more then mere teen angst, these feelings would manifest themselves in increased self-abuse. Indeed, along with masturbation, Johnny would also experiment with alcohol and marijuana in college in a vain attempt to escape who and what he had become. While these worldlier experiences would never detract from Johnny’s naive and innocent demeanor, they would instill within him a secret self-image of corruptness and wasted opportunity. This feeling that he was beyond hope or help would not only lead him deeper into his many escapist addictions (self-abuse, bingeing on food or alcohol) but also to privately develop an attitude of not caring or even non-enjoyment. He felt he was so hopelessly beyond help with his addictions that he might as well relish and indulge in them. This well-known phenomenon is often seen in people suffering from the commonest form of depression. Such people come to enjoy and to wrap themselves in their melancholy like a blanket. Likewise, Johnny would take pleasure in self-abuse and his other escapist addictions to the point of ritualistic devotion.

As these files attest, Johnny had no idea of the trouble he was getting himself into with his torrential marathon of self-pleasuring. Throughout his young life, as his habit became exposed to various women (sometimes complete strangers), his carefree ways were quickly stamped out and rectified through a steady regime of treatment, which was wisely prescribed and carried out by these women. Through weeks, months, sometimes years, a few them – those who understood the pattern that would encompass Johnny’s life and the lifelong struggle he would have to endure – committed themselves (and Johnny) to the prolonged treatment of his addictions. Still others who were only casual acquaintances (sometimes strangers, as noted above) had the insight to recognize in Johnny the classic signs of ritual self-abuse and the gentleness and innocence in him, and tried to save or at least protect him for the short time they and Johnny had together.

The jury is still out on young Johnny. While all of his addictions are treatable, few are curable. Contrary to first perceptions, Johnny is not an alcoholic. However, he is addicted to the binge drinking that is associated with depression and hopelessness, and which he sees as a way to escape his problems. This exemplifies how Johnny will never be able to lead a ‘normal’ life. He will always need to be mindful of those habits and substances that can and will derail a healthy progression through life. However, with the continued guidance and care of kind and insightful women, Johnny will be able to bring his self-abuse under control, though never to rid himself of this emotionally crippling activity. As a result, he will forever be dependent on these women. Some might argue this seems to only replace many addictions with a single one. In many ways this is a correct assessment; however, it is important to note that the many harmful addictions are being replaced with a single healthy and benevolent one. After all, none of us complain about our mass-addiction to oxygen. Similarly, the fact that Johnny will need the benevolent touch of the dominant women in his life should not be considered an unfavorable characteristic of his life. Indeed, as studies have shown, many males who do not suffer from Johnny’s condition could still benefit from a greater dependence on powerful female influences in their lives.


Chapter 2 – Invited to Dinner

Story Codes: F/m, older woman/younger male, masturbation, gentle femdom, maternal domination, authoritative/reluctance, mild humiliation/teasing, big natural breasts, nursing fetish.

Synopsis: A shy 18-year-old man becomes sexually aroused at a dinner party and is taken in hand by the beautiful hostess.

Johnny and his family pulled into the driveway of a nice-looking middle-class home. Despite the excellent directions they had been given, it had taken a few minutes to find it so it was already dark outside. The house belonged to one of his father’s new employees. Johnny’s dad worked for a large computer company and had recently been promoted and placed in charge of the R&D department. As a result, Johnny’s parents, along with himself and his older sister, had been invited to dinner by one of the new people who would be working with his father – a woman named Andrea Winters.

During the drive over, Johnny’s mother had reminded her children to be polite and refer at all times to the couple they were about to visit as Mr. and Mrs. Winters. Upon seeing the woman who greeted them at the door, Johnny forgot about the last-minute instructions his mother had given him. Her beauty was stunning. She was a blonde with shoulder-length hair, blue eyes, and was rather tall. She had a large crimson-painted smile, which accented her high cheekbones. But by far her most attractive feature was her well-developed chest. Her magnificent bosom gave her the classic hourglass shape that reminded Johnny of some 1950’s movie starlets. The conservative black dress accentuated her Rubenesque form, and Johnny quickly lost himself in staring at the small glimpse of milky-white cleavage it revealed.

“Johnny,” came his mother’s urgent, shrill voice. The spell reluctantly broken, his eyes focused instead on a delicate hand with long graceful fingers being extended in his direction.

“Uh, nice to meet you Mrs. Winters. I’m Johnny,” he blurted out as he tenderly shook her hand with his clammy palm, then quickly looked down.

Turning to Johnny’s parents, “What a handsome young man,” replied Mrs. Winters. Addressing the entire group, she said, “Please, all of you come inside and make yourselves at home.”

They were introduced to Mr. Winters, a stout-looking fellow who seemed to be at least 10 or 15 years older than his wife. The fact that he was starting to lose his hair didn’t help matters any. They all retired to the living room where Mrs. Winters served them drinks and aperitifs. Within half an hour, Johnny had to admit to himself that he liked these people. They were warm and friendly. Mrs. Winters would regularly throw questions his way to make sure the youngsters didn’t feel left out of the conversations. Johnny, in his extreme shyness, would answer with simple phrases to hopefully turn the attention to someone else and away from him.

Eventually dinner was ready and everyone gathered around the dinner table, with Mrs. Winters sitting to Johnny’s right. As the dinner party went on, Johnny became more relaxed with these new people and more flippant in his responses. This delighted Mrs. Winters, who on numerous occasions laughed and remarked what a witty person he was. Her comments were often accompanied by pats on his shoulder and she would often place her hand nonchalantly on his knee as she giggled. Johnny constantly sneaked peaks at her cleavage as she leaned over to do so. Her physical contacts were not lost on Johnny, who blushed profusely at each one. Eventually, to his horror, he realized his penis had slowly become erect over the course of the evening. It wasn’t every day that Johnny was touched so flirtatiously by a beautiful older woman. By the time dessert was over, his situation had become perilous. His erection was almost complete and this made Johnny nervous, even jumpy. Then Mrs. Winters invited everyone back to the living room for coffee and pralines. His lap hidden below the table’s edge, his erection was safe from view but he knew that once sitting on the couch in the living room, or by even simply standing up, his engorged penis would be clearly outlined through his slacks. In panic, he quickly asked Mrs. Winters if it was all right if he could use the bathroom. As everyone stood up to go to the living room, Johnny cleverly held his cloth napkin in front of his crotch long enough for him to turn away from the others and head down the hall in the direction of the bathroom. He quickly headed up the stairs, found the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

Johnny turned around and realized that Mrs. Winters must have been in a hurry getting ready for her guests: the bathroom showed signs of recent use and was a mess. Surveying the scene in fascination, Johnny saw first a lady’s shaver on the sink’s edge and other distinctly feminine products. On top of the toilet stood an open box of tampons. He had seen all these sorts of things living in a household with his mother and sister, but these items belonged to a stranger. A beautiful goddess of a stranger, who gave all these ordinary items a new erotic quality. His eyes suddenly fell on a pair of discarded panties, which had been thrown on top of the closed hamper’s lid. The panties were bunched up, and Johnny suddenly realized that Mrs. Winters must have rolled them off her beautiful hips in her haste to get ready. The thought of Mrs. Winter’s naked hips made his cock throb lustily in his pants. He gingerly picked up the panties and slowly unrolled them. In a sudden burst of crazed lust, he quickly brought them up to his face and inhaled deeply. He felt dizzy with joy and so he turned to sit down on the closed toilet seat, when his eyes bulged at another fantastic sight. Hanging on a hook by the door was the largest bra he had ever seen. The cups on this monster must have been at least double D’s. He quickly went to them and confirmed that they were actually F cups. Stupefied, he slowly backed up and fell back onto the toilet seat, staring at the titanic bra in his hands. His stupor only vanished when he realized that his cock was throbbing nonstop now. It was driving him mad, and his wits returned as he remembered why he was in the bathroom. He had to do something about his swollen cock. The thought of masturbation had already popped into his head the second he asked to use the bathroom. But the prospect of doing this disgraceful deed in the home of his father’s business colleague, indeed the lovely Mrs. Winters’ very own bathroom, gave him pause. The throbbing in his slacks was insistent, however, and he knew he had to act quickly. If he took too long, someone would come looking for him.

Without further hesitation, Johnny quickly unzipped his pants and pushed down his underpants. His average-sized member bobbed lewdly into view, already oozing precum in anticipation. With the soiled panties and bra clutched in his left hand, the fingers of his right hand deftly surrounded the shaft of his pulsing organ and he began to jack it using his favorite technique. Johnny relished the sensations emanating from his groin. This was going to be one of the best masturbation sessions ever and he knew it wasn’t going to last long. As the minutes went by and the tension in his penis built, he suddenly panicked as he realized he had nothing to cum into. As his hand continued its ministrations, his eyes raked across the room in search of a proper receptacle. They first settled on the roll of toilet paper next to him but he dismissed the idea, realizing there was no way he could use it to catch the powerful jets of semen which would issue forth within a few moments. Thinking quickly, he realized that he had the two perfect receptacles dangling between his fingers in the form of Mrs. Winter’s unusually large brassiere. He quickly positioned the bra cups in his left hand so that one would catch the powerful initial spurts and the other would hang below his testicles to catch the dribble which would naturally run off later. The immediate crisis now over, he closed his eyes and once again concentrated on enjoying the crisis to come. A few moments later, a gentle draft wafted over Johnny’s partially exposed body.

“My dear boy, what on earth are you doing with my underwear?”

Johnny’s eyes shot open. Before him in the open doorframe stood Mrs. Winters, arms crossed under her domineering bosom. Like a deer mesmerized by the glare of oncoming headlights, Johnny froze in mid-stroke.

“Well, do you have anything to say for yourself?”, Mrs. Winters snorted in a mocking tone.

The taunt broke Johnny out of his spell but not his stupor, as he dropped the panties and bra. He started babbling incoherently and tried to get up, but he tripped over his own pants entwining his ankles and ended up on his hands and knees. Johnny looked up at Mrs. Winters. A ridiculing but sympathetic smirk played across her features as she bent down to help him up. She grabbed him by his upper arms and raised him high enough to sit back down on the closed toilet seat. She brushed Johnny’s hair out of his face.

“Tell me, Johnny, what possessed you to do this to yourself?”, she asked again, this time in a kind-hearted, affectionate way.

Despite making several visible attempts to speak, Johnny still could not seem to find his voice. He finally gave up, his face turning crimson-red as he hung his head in shame. Seeing this, Mrs. Winter’s heart went out to him and she took charge of the situation. She turned and closed the bathroom door behind her. A noticeably loud click sounded in the small room as she locked it. Coming back to Johnny, she sat before him on the edge of the bathtub, bending down to pick up her undergarments and place them on the edge of the sink. His head still down, Johnny started to sniffle. Mrs. Winters placed one reassuring hand on his naked knee and the other under his chin, raising his face to look up at her.

“Oh sweetheart, there’s no need to get tearful. I’m not angry with you. It’s just that what you were doing isn’t healthy. You could seriously hurt yourself.” She nodded towards the now-flaccid penis between his legs.

“It’s not your fault. It seems sometimes things like this get overlooked in the education of young boys. I suppose I will have to talk to your mother about this,” she sighed. “We can’t let this sort of activity go on without some sort of supervision or counseling.”

Johnny’s eyes widened in terror at the mention of his mother finding out, and he started to babble again in his panic to explain.

“Shhh, it’s alright honey, everything will be ok.” She placed a long finger across his lips and caressed his cheek. Johnny’s panic subsided, and he allowed her soothing voice to fog his mind. She caressed his shoulders and trailed her fingertips down his abdomen to the tops of his thighs.

“Spread your knees, honey,” her mellow voice suggested as her hands gently but firmly pushed them apart. “There’s a good boy.”

She suddenly broke eye contact with Johnny and he followed her gaze down to his groin. “My, it’s a rather tiny thing when not properly taken care of,” she smiled sympathetically. Mrs. Winters saw the panic and shame reassert themselves in Johnny’s face. She cut him off before he could start blubbering.

“It’s all right. It’s all right, sweetheart. Don’t worry,” she cooed.

With her soft hands, she caressed the inside of Johnny’s thighs while saying, “It’s alright Johnny. I’ll take care of you.” Suddenly she stopped her ministrations. With a knowing smile, she gracefully hunched her shoulders and removed her short jacket. She then reached behind her neck to unfasten the straps of her dress, which spread apart and gathered around her waist. “I know this will help, Johnny,” she whispered with a motherly smile. She reached behind her back to dislodge her massive cups. Her hands then came back in front to pull the bra from her pendulous breasts and add them to the articles on the sink’s edge. As her loveliness came into view, an audible moan escaped Johnny’s lips. He was enchanted. His eyes kept darting back and forth between her beautiful face and her magnificent bosom. As he stared, Mrs. Winters smiled approvingly. “You’re such a dear, Johnny,” she giggled as she scooted closer to him. Caressing his cheek and hair with one hand, she used the other to urge him to lean towards her. His face now only inches from her right breast, she arched her back and guided her plump nipple to his lips. Johnny inhaled the scent of her warm flesh and opened his mouth to suckle. “That’s my good boy, Johnny. There, there baby. You’re such a good boy. You’ve needed this for a long time, haven’t you, baby?”, she moaned in his ear as she caressed his hair. His suckling grew to a fever-pitch over the next few minutes as Mrs. Winters comforted him. When she finally dislodged him from her breast, tears were streaming down his cheeks in a mixture of joy and sadness. “My dear, sweet boy,” she whispered, hugging him to her bosom, “everything is alright now. I’m here for you. Andrea is here for you.” Now Mrs. Winters focused once again on the task at hand. The small nub that was his penis had quickly grown to 4 inches, large enough for direct stimulation. She gently lifted his left leg so that his heel rested on the edge of the tub next to her. She now had complete access to his exposed genitals.

Mrs. Winters gently slid her silky hand up the inside his thighs to surround his balls and cock. The room was warm so his scrotum hung heavy and loose. She cupped the heavy sack in her left hand and rolled the balls within between her fingers. The initial gentle stroking from her right hand resolved into a firm, pumping squeeze as her long fingers curled around Johnny’s partially-engorged penis. On each downstroke she pulled the sensitive foreskin back taut, exposing the inflamed head. Johnny’s face contorted with pleasure as she repeated her ministrations several times.

“You have a lovely penis, Johnny. For your own good, it’s best that from now on you only let an experienced woman handle it. Childish self-indulgence will only lead to injury. Do you understand, Johnny?” she demanded in a firm, no-nonsense tone. Johnny could only nod and grab the edge of the sink for support as the pleasure emanating from his groin intensified. By now Johnny’s penis had extended to its full length of 7 inches and pre-cum was flowing copiously. “See, honey, I told you everything would be alright. Now, you’re going to do your best for me, aren’t you, Johnny?” she encouraged rhetorically. With the added length and lubrication, Mrs. Winters was able to use slow, strong, deliberate strokes. Her technique was unlike anything Johnny had ever experience before. With each downstroke his foreskin was pulled taut, exposing the sensitive underside of his glans to the skillful diddling of a feminine finger. Johnny’s body could resist no longer. His hips began to gyrate and lurch lewdly upwards as Mrs. Winters’ hand adopted a milking action. Mrs. Winters grinned wickedly. “Aah, that’s it. That’s what I was looking for. Come on, Johnny. Come on, come on,” she goaded gleefully. The speed of her actions increased. Johnny began to moan softly in time with each thrust of his hips. His eyes opened fitfully to dart back and forth between Mrs. Winters’ angelic face and her motherly breasts, which swayed and jiggled with every movement.

“Ohhh….Mrs.….. Mrs.….” Johnny trailed off, unable to express himself.

“It’s all right, Johnny. It’s all right, baby. I want you to do your best for me. I want a nice big squirt from you, Johnny. Let it all out for me,” she coaxed him.

Mrs. Winters’ expert manipulation was about to bear fruit. Sensing that he was getting closer, she switched to a more aggressive milking technique. She began to breathe heavily and to flush with her labor. Soon, she thought. Soon.

“Johnny! Open your eyes, Johnny. Look at me, honey, look at my face,” she exhorted him. Somehow, through the haze of pleasure, Johnny was able to focus. For a moment the only thing that existed was Mrs. Winters’ beautiful face and the pleasure her hands were generating between his legs.

Once Mrs. Winters saw he was focused on her she said, “Johnny, I want you to look into my eyes and see who it is who is giving you pleasure. Look at me baby, look at me.”

Johnny was delirious. Like the background vibration of heavy machinery, the pleasure pulsed through every fiber of his being. The spot where Mrs. Winters’ thigh touched his tingled with sensitivity. The core of pleasure that her hands were touching was on fire as their eyes locked on each other’s face.

“It’s time. Johnny, look at me,” she said quietly as Johnny started convulsing. “Cum for me baby, cum for me, cum for me….”, she chanted softly to him. His eyes winced as the pleasure took him, but he stayed focused on her loving gaze.

The tip of his cock exploded as the first powerful squirt of semen surged forward and landed on her graceful collarbone. She redirected his cock as she continued to milk him with long, deliberate strokes. The next few squirts she aimed over her generous breasts. Her words echoed in his mind. She firmly squeezed his testicles as if to wring more seed from them. At last his spurts grew shorter so she brought one hand up from his sack to catch the spillage and rub the underside of his glans as the other continued to milk him. Johnny finally had to look away as he collapsed with exhaustion. Mrs. Winters squeezed his already deflating cock. Satisfied that she had all of his essence, she let go.

“You’re a good boy, Johnny. I’m proud of you for not giving up.” She beamed at him. Lethargically, Johnny looked up from beneath his sweaty brow just in time to see a large gob of his semen drip off a puffy nipple. Mrs. Winters went to the sink and ran a washcloth in some hot water and proceeded to clean herself up. She then used it to clean Johnny’s sensitive organ. Finally, she sat on Johnny’s lap facing him and took him in her embrace. His face pressed between her soft bosoms, he instinctively found a nipple and began to suckle. She began to rock him gently back and forth and to coo to him, “Ah, Johnny, my sweet boy. Do you see now why I cannot allow you to do this on your own? You need guidance.” Johnny wanted to nod but was too preoccupied. “I know you do. Such a sweet, loving boy,” she sighed as she held his head lovingly, “I’m sure your mother will agree with me when I describe to her what’s happened. I’m sure we can come up with a solution for a needy boy like you, my dear Johnny.”

They stayed like that for a few more minutes before Johnny reluctantly let go of her comforting nipple. Mrs. Winters quickly helped him dress and sent him back down to the dinner party. When he was gone she smiled happily to herself for having done at least one good deed this day. She leisurely put her clothes back on, freshened up, and rejoined her guests.

For the rest of the night Johnny sat bashfully in mute silence as the others happily chatted away. Later that night, as the guests got ready to head home, Mrs. Winters took Johnny’s mother into the kitchen to share the recipe for one of the evening’s dishes. Johnny’s ears strained to hear what they were saying but alas, all he could make out was his name being mentioned several times, followed by boisterous giggling and laughter. He blushed deeply and hoped no one else had heard them.

Finally, it came time to depart. Everyone said their good-byes. Mrs. Winters grinned knowingly as she told Johnny what a nice boy he was and that she was glad to have met him. He blushed once more and quickly shuffled off to the car.

And thus ends the story of how Johnny became sexually bound to Mrs. Winters.


Chapter 3 – Academic Probation
 

Story codes: F/m, older woman/younger man, masturbation, maternal domination, authoritative/reluctance, mild humiliation/teasing, big natural breasts, nursing fetish, mild femdom, nurturing.

Synopsis: An 18-year-old high school student is sent to his academic advisor’s office for some hands-on counseling in the hope that it will inspire him to pick up his flagging grades.

Johnny was a very smart young man. In fact, he was so smart that his high-school subjects bored him. With all his intelligence, one would think that Johnny would have aced his way right through high school, but the truth was that he rarely ever got an ‘A’ in his classes. The problem lay in the fact that Johnny suffered from depression, which manifested itself in a total lack of motivation or interest in his high school lessons. Johnny wouldn’t discuss this with anyone. He even managed to convince himself that his attitude and lack of self-motivation was just a phase he was going through. All teenage boys are supposed to be lazy and bored easily – right?

As a result, Johnny was very distressed when, half-way through 6th period, a note arrived summoning him to the academic counselor’s office. At St. Justin High School, students were required to visit with one of the three academic counselors at least once every school year. As a senior, Johnny had already met with his counselor in each of his previous high school years but each time he had made an appointment. This was the first time he had ever been called out of class to see them. As Johnny walked slowly down the empty halls, he guessed that his sagging GPA must be the reason why he had been called. He had been a pretty good student in his freshman year but by the end of his junior year he had dipped below a 2.0 GPA. As he neared the counselor’s office, he began to formulate what he would say to them; he needed plausible excuses for why his grades were dropping and why it wasn’t his fault. He became more and more nervous with each step and began repeating his excuses in his mind to himself. As the door came into view, his silent litany suddenly stopped as he remembered the name of the counselor assigned to him, Mrs. Baggends. Contrary to the kind-sounding name, Mrs. Baggends was an old German battleaxe who seemed to have been ripped right out of some children’s fairytale. She was harsh, mean and ill-tempered – in short, Johnny couldn’t imagine any evil stepmothers or wicked witches being much worse. Standing before the office door, the prospect of the approaching encounter led him to continue his litany with renewed vigor. With a clammy hand, he finally reached for the door handle and entered the office.

The academic counselors’ offices were actually one large room. Five-foot-tall dividers (the kind popular in Dilbert cartoons) had been used to create a small reception area and three small offices for each of the counselors. During either of the two lunch periods (the 4th for under- and 5th for upper-classmen) this place was packed with students; now, however, it was totally empty. Upon entering Johnny looked down at the receptionist sitting behind a small desk next to the door and announced himself. She was a student herself, who for some insane reason had chosen to do this job as her elective this quarter. Johnny recognized her as Rebecca, the Jewish girl from his 3rd-period religion class. She stuck out in Johnny’s mind because she was one of the few non-Catholic students at St. Justin’s and she had been quite vocal in the class they shared. Beyond her ethnicity, she was also one of the more beautiful girls in school. Her dark eyes and pale milky skin gave her a mystical quality which only accentuated her long graceful neck and her head of thick, dark hair that curled at the ends, deliciously hugging her soft jaw line. Rebecca was also well-developed for a girl her age, already sporting womanly curves that were the talk of the boys’ locker room. While Johnny couldn’t see the rest of her figure at the moment, she certainly had an ample bosom which seemed to settle on the desktop every time she exhaled.

“Johnny, is it?”, she asked looking up from her appointment book. “Aren’t you one of Mrs. Baggends’ students?”

“Um, yes, yes that’s right, she’s my academic counselor. I got this note in class saying I should come here for an advising session,” Johnny stammered with his usual shyness as he held out the note for her to see.

“Well, that’s strange, Mrs. Baggends has been sick all week -“

Someone in the cubicle directly behind Rebecca spoke up from behind the divider.

“It’s alright Rebecca, I sent for him. Come into my office, Johnny,” came a female voice.

Rebecca smiled and pointed at the office entrance to the left behind her. Johnny nodded and walked in. The cramped office contained a file cabinet, some bookshelves and an overlarge desk, opposite which was a small beaten-up old couch. Behind the desk sat a lady he had never actually met before but knew to be one of the other academic counselors. She looked to be in her early 30s, by Johnny’s guess. While far from fat she had a pleasant roundness about her, with a large rear and top that accentuated the hourglass curves of her narrower middle. She was dressed in a modern gray business outfit, with a jacket that closed in a ‘V’ over her rather pronounced chest. Her shoulder-length brown hair was cut in an old-fashioned style, lending severity to her otherwise friendly-looking oval face. Overall, she was a strange mix of old and new which for some reason reminded Johnny of his mother, though this lady’s facial features were nothing like hers.

She looked up with a professional smile and motioned to the couch. “Have a seat while I quickly finish this paperwork.”

Johnny nodded solemnly and cringed so as to avoid knocking over anything as he moved to the couch in the confined space. The cushions made loud embarrassing squeaking noises as he sank into them, settling so low he was barely at eye level with the surface of her desk. He felt uncomfortable in this position and was very self-aware of the extra pounds his own frame carried. At 6’3″ and 265 pounds, Johnny was not a small guy by anyone’s standards. For a few moments the only sound in the office was the scratching of lead on paper. Johnny sat there watching the woman write. The ‘V’ of her business suit would bulge open every now and then with the fierceness of her writing, revealing brief glimpses of jiggling cleavage hidden within. Johnny began to sweat a little more as his teenage mind began to realize that this round—almost matronly—lady actually had attributes that were incredibly erotic to him.

The woman finished and looked up quickly – too quickly for Johnny. However, instead of betraying his guilt by abruptly looking away, he kept on staring at the front of her jacket as if pretending to look at her nearby hand as she was writing. He only looked up at her face after she had begun to speak. The bluff seemed to work.

“Now then young man, I am Mrs. Boneham,” she announced loudly. “Your file has been transferred into my care. It seems that you’ve been ignoring your schoolwork and landed yourself on Academic Probation this last quarter.” She paused briefly before continuing, “When promising students go on AP we usually give them one quarter to correct themselves. However, I’ve been talking to your teachers and they say your quiz and test scores this year haven’t improved. Now, do you have any way to explain this poor performance, Johnny?”

Looking up at Mrs Boneham from the sagging couch, Johnny was taken off guard by the suddenness of her interrogation but managed to eventually answer, “Um, well, Mrs. Boneham, I know I’ve been struggling and, um—”

Johnny was about to launch into his well practiced litany of excuses when she cut him off: “Indeed you have, young man. Now I’ll be up front with you. We counselors divide the students we see into two basic groups: Mrs. Baggends handles all the good students who have a long track record of good academic standing and Ms. Burgville handles the students who are obviously never going to shape up and simply coast their way through St. Justin with no hope of a bright future. The choice is up to you: we can guide you but only you are able to determine which group you fall into.”

Johnny tried to reply but Mrs. Boneham went on, “Now there is a third group Johnny, which is where you and I come in. Some of the brighter students sometimes seem to fall from grace, as it were. It’s my job to catch them, and if possible, correct their wayward ways and put them back on the right path. I think I can help you but for me to do so, we will have to work together. You have to want to correct yourself. You have to want my help and be willing to work with me to make it happen. Can you do that, Johnny?” She finally stopped and waited for him to answer.

“Y-y-y yes, yes I can do that Mrs. Boneham. I-I want to be on the right path.” He stammered, relieved that the conversation seemed to be going in a direction which left him unaccountable.

“That’s great, Johnny”, she said with a cocked eyebrow, “Because frankly I don’t have the luxury of wasting time on a slacker who won’t give me one hundred percent.” She let here statement hang in the air for a few seconds as they stared at each other.

“Now we’re going to sit down and figure out what went wrong with you. I don’t want any excuses and I don’t want any lies. You need to be honest with me if our relationship is going to work. Now, tell me honestly, what do you think is the problem? Is something outside your academic life troubling you? How are things at home?”

“Um, e-e-everything is fine at home, Mrs. Boneham,” Johnny stammered, worried that he once again had to produce answers.

“I see. Well, how about your social life, then? Is there a bully or a group of kids who pick on you? I can’t see anyone trying something with someone your size.”

“Well, n-no no, not at all, Mrs. Boneham. At least I can’t think of any,” he spoke up.

“Well there has to be something, young man. Looking at your transcripts from your first two years, you managed a 3.2 GPA. While that’s not an Ivy League number, it certainly shows you were a good student. A GPA like that doesn’t just drop like a stone for no reason,” she said, raising her voice to make her point. “Can you think of any reason for this drop-off in production?” With her last question, Mrs. Boneham leaned forward sharply for emphasis so her over-large bosom was driven against the top of her desk. The ‘V’ of her jacket bulged open wantonly before Johnny’s eyes. Panic set in and Johnny began to sweat profusely as he willed himself not to look at the exposed female flesh.

Waveringly, he said “w-well, um, there may be something…”

As Johnny let his statement hang in the long, uncomfortable silence, his gaze slid slowly downwards against his will to the deep and inviting cleavage on display. It was as if his eyes had a will of their own and at a critical moment they decided to betray him. In horror he quickly looked back up at Mrs. Boneham’s oval face, panic clearly showing on his face. The counselor had noted his naked gaze earlier and now briefly showed surprise, but that was quickly brought under control as her face darkened with anger. In a quiet, ominous tone she asked, “And what would that be?”

Johnny lost all measure of control and began to blubber, “W-w-w well you know, um, sometimes, um, I have trouble dealing with people. Um, like, like, like, I can’t talk to them. I freeze up, or, or, or, or – .” Terror and humiliation had padlocked his ability to articulate his thoughts, only to be released after he consciously gave up, allowing him to try again. A moment later he sighed despairingly and finished lamely, “I come off sounding like an idiot.” He hung his head in disgust and shame, ready for the onslaught of anger which was sure to come from the counselor.

Mrs. Boneham rocked back in her chair with her hands supporting the back of her head. She gazed thoughtfully at the mournful Johnny. She reflected on her 11 years in the education field, 8 of them spent at St. Justin’s, and realized that this case was very similar to those of a number of other boys. All of them exhibited a pattern of shyness, helplessness, low self-esteem and awkwardness in social situations – in short, all the things she had seen thus far from Johnny. She wasn’t one hundred percent certain though. She had to confirm her hunch. She decided to bluff.

“Them?”, she asked pointedly. “Don’t you mean girls?”

Johnny’s head shot up, shocked at the keen perception of the counselor’s question. In less then two minutes she had plucked out the kernel of his mystery – he wasn’t simply shy, just awkward around the opposite sex. He felt as if he had been punched in the face. His wide-eyed, opened-mouth stare was all the confirmation Mrs. Boneham needed. Inwardly she grinned in satisfaction, she had been right. Outwardly only a knowing smirk played across her face. As the silence hung a moment longer, Mrs. Boneham recalled other elements of the profile Johnny exhibited:

Prone to mood disorders, introverted, unmotivated, often from a matriarchally-dominated home, submissive towards female authority figures, extremely awkward with peers of the opposite sex, emotionally self-abusive, hedonistic, lustful, often prone to escapism and various addictions – especially compulsive masturbation.

She suppressed a smile as she recalled the last fact. This was no laughing matter, she chided herself inwardly. This boy needed her help if she wanted to give him a promising future. It was up to her to save him, to guide him towards that future. Due to the many such cases she had handled, she knew the key to helping Johnny was through the manipulation of his sex drive coupled with his reverence for female authority figures. Mrs. Boneham actually enjoyed these types of cases best and had unofficially made their treatment her specialty; soon after starting her chosen vocation, she had realized it was these cases specifically that had drawn her to the field. Relishing what she knew would develop over the coming weeks and months, Mrs. Boneham decided in an instant that there was no time like the present to administer his initial treatment.

At last Johnny recovered enough to attempt a response. His eyes threatened to overflow with tears as he softly stuttered, “I, I, I, don’t know what you mean Mrs. B- “

She cut him off. “Oh, come now, Johnny, don’t lie to me. You promised to be truthful, remember?”

Johnny started babbling again as he attempted to protest his innocence. As he went on, Mrs. Boneham got up and stood between the desk and Johnny. Standing tall above him, she looked down at the helpless youth. She decided to get right to the point: “Johnny, how often do you play with yourself? I bet it’s a lot. Am I right?” Looking up at her smiling, knowing face, Johnny was once again frozen in embarrassment and fear.

“It’s alright to admit it, you know,” she said matter-of-factly. “Most boys your age do it often but I am willing to bet you do it much more than usual, at least three times a day, probably more. Isn’t that right, Johnny?” She emphasized his name, using it like a hammer. He still couldn’t speak but Mrs. Boneham waited. Her training and experience had paid off: she had shocked him just enough to make him completely vulnerable so what would come next could sink in properly. She honestly felt sympathy for poor Johnny. She knew that overall he was just an innocent boy with a good heart who was having trouble coping with the changes his mind and body were enduring at this stage in his life. She honestly regretted toying with him like this but it was for his own good. Besides, it would be good practice for married life, she mused: she certainly wouldn’t be the last woman to use his physical and psychological needs for her own ends.

Staring at his face the entire time, she could tell he was finally about to say something. Now was the time for the real therapy to begin. She left her desk before he could get a sound out, sank into the couch next to to him and placed a finger on his lips.

“Shhh, it’s alright, Johnny. Shhhhh,” she soothed him.

As if by magic, he suddenly stopped trying to talk, to defend himself. He stopped resisting her.

“Don’t worry Johnny, there are ways to help special boys like you. You’re not like everyone else, are you? You have special needs. I know how to help you, and with a lot of work, I think you will be ok again. We’re going to have to work together, and I’m going to need your very best effort, OK?”

Johnny nodded meekly. He had always felt “different” somehow. He was so grateful for her compassion, so relieved at her understanding and apparent lack of anger for his inappropriate behavior. At this point he would do whatever she told him to. Mrs. Boneham smiled her pretty smile at him. “OK then,” she said, and started to unbuckle his pants. “Help me get these pants off, we have a lot of work to do.” Emotionally exhausted beyond the means of expressing himself, Johnny numbly allowed her to work on his buckle, his eyes wide with unspoken trepidation about what this strange but compassionate woman was going to do to him. She firmly placed her hands under his thighs, urging him to lift his buttocks, which he did though reluctantly. “There’s a good boy,” she soothed, the way a mother would soothe a child who needed to have its blood drawn, her eyes constantly on his to gauge his current state of anxiety. She slid down both his pants and his boxers in one swift motion. As it came into view, his flaccid penis was starting to stir. She smiled knowingly and remarked, “Your willy sure seems to know what’s coming next.” Before he could contemplate her meaning, Johnny suddenly thought he heard a stifled giggle from over the office divider. Mrs. Boneham seemed to have heard it too, as she paused momentarily, but seemed to put it out of her mind and continue. She quickly helped him take off his T-shirt, discarding it on the floor. She began caressing the inside of Johnny’s naked thighs, then paused as if thinking of a better course of action. “Why don’t we just take these nasty pants completely off?”, she asked herself, and bent down to unlace his shoes. They were quickly discarded along with his pants and underwear. She then grabbed his left ankle and swiveled his body around on the couch so he was facing her. She rested his left leg on the back of the couch seat. “For easy access,” she smiled reassuringly with a motherly pat on his knee. Situated between his spread-eagled knees, she indeed had easy access to his genitalia and proceeded to take advantage of it. Mrs. Boneham leaned in for a closer look and began to nudge Johnny’s slowly-erecting member with a crooked finger. When she saw his penis was slow to fill with blood, currently being only at half mast, she remarked, “Come on, honey, make your willy nice and stiff for me. I know you want to”. In his exhaustion Johnny couldn’t even manage his usual stuttering and simply sat silently with a worried look on his face. Mrs. Boneham saw the panic and shame in his eyes when confronted with his perceived inadequacies. She knew his ‘little problem’ was only due to feelings of shame and that normally he could erect in seconds. But causing shame was part of the plan – she would gain untold control and devotion from him by absolving and freeing him of that shame as a kind and nurturing female authority-figure. “Don’t worry Johnny, I know what boys like you need. Your willy is playing hard-to-get but I know just how to make it cooperate,” she remarked matter-of-factly.

Mrs. Boneham stood up and shrugged off her business jacket and took her time to properly hang it over the back of the sofa near his leg. She then slowly zipped open her skirt and let it fall to the ground, followed by her slip. She then proceeded to seductively unbutton her blouse and shrugged that off as well. She now stood before Johnny clad only in a large underwire bra and a pair of plain pink panties. Mrs. Boneham noticed that Johnny was now completely transfixed, staring open-mouthed at the large mounds of her bosom. She glanced down at his groin and smirked contentedly as she saw Johnny’s peter grow in large, visible throbs. Johnny, to his credit, momentarily recovered from his numbness to notice how well-shaped the rest of Mrs. Boneham’s figure was. She was definitely not thin but she had a classic hourglass shape, which was pleasing to his eyes, and wide ‘baby-making’ hips, which were recurring features in all his fantasies. But, for Johnny, by far her most magnetic feature was her generous bosom, which he yearned to nuzzle and nurse.

Smiling at Johnny’s reaction, Mrs. Boneham lowered herself once again onto the couch between Johnny’s spread-open legs. Her soft hands encircled the base of his cock and gave it a few squeezes to test its rigidity. While sufficiently firm for what was in store, the perfectionist in Mrs. Boneham demanded maximum rigidity from Johnny’s manhood. Johnny stared down between his legs at the Rubenesque goddess inspecting his penis like some ripe fruit. Mrs. Boneham suddenly peeled back his foreskin and insistently teased the sensitive underside of his penis head with a fingertip. Johnny let out a loud gasp as the unexpected sensations flowed through his body. “Hmmm, you like that Johnny? Does my big boy like it when I play with the head of his big willy?” she goaded rhetorically. Mrs. Boneham chuckled for a moment as she gave Johnny’s member a few longer strokes. Johnny suddenly realized that his counselor wasn’t the only one laughing. He was sure of it this time – a barely-audible giggle had come from the other side of the office divider. He now realized that Rebecca had been listening to them the whole time. Johnny’s face turned deep red with shame as he looked at Mrs. Boneham’s own expression. It was obvious that she had known about the eavesdropping all along.

“I have another surprise for you, Johnny,” Mrs. Boneham grinned at him reassuringly. She paused her ministrations and reached behind her. A moment later her massive brassiere dislodged itself and fell away. Her large pendulous breasts sagged down in their sudden freedom. An emotional burst of moisture blurred Johnny’s vision as he gazed at the round, teardrop-shaped loveliness of Mrs. Boneham’s breasts. Reaching behind her to the filing cabinet, Mrs. Boneham retrieved a bottle from the lowest drawer and poured some of its slick contents onto her bountiful chest. She then leaned her bosom over his groin and lowered her oily, dangling breasts around his stiff member. “Squeeze my bosom around your willy, Johnny. Don’t be afraid, you have my permission to enjoy yourself,” she invited him. Hesitantly, Johnny reached between his legs and pressed the soft globes together around his penis. Seeing his own fingers sink into the overflowing breast flesh caused a slight groan to escape his lips. The soft, slippery warmth around his manhood was overwhelming and his hips instinctively lurched forward, thrusting his cock deeper into the inviting channel her meaty boobs created. Mrs. Boneham encouraged him to do it again and again. “That’s it Johnny, masturbate your peter between my breasts – make love to them like I know you want to, there’s a good boy.” More giggling came from behind the office divider, but at this point Johnny didn’t care anymore. He gratefully humped into the snug embrace of Mrs. Boneham’s heaving tits, his face burning scarlet at his own lewd behavior. He was so grateful and yet so embarrassed about everything that was happening. She tickled the head of his cock with her tongue as it poked out from between her cleavage with each thrust. “I think your willy and I are going to get along just fine now. He’s nice and stiff for me,” she commented cheerfully. “You’re such a good boy, Johnny,” she added, looking up into his eyes, and as an afterthought brought her hand up to caress his cheek and brush a stray lock of hair from his face. Johnny continued to indulge himself for a few more minutes. The sounds of his penis thrusting into the counselor’s oiled cleavage filled the small office, interrupted only by Johnny’s grateful moans and the occasional muffled giggle wafting over the office divider.

A moment later, Mrs. Boneham took hold of Johnny’s wrists and firmly told him to release her breasts and cease his thrusting. “Johnny, I’ll take over from here. Now, before we let you spend, I want you to focus on your breathing. I want large, deep breaths from you. Go ahead and take a deep breath,” Mrs. Boneham instructed. “That’s it – in, out, in, out, deep breaths, there’s a good boy.” She watched him do as she instructed for a moment, then continued. “The reason I’m having you do this is because deep breathing will super-charge your blood with oxygen and increase its flow to your brain. It will maximize the benefits of your spending. As I always like to say, anything worth doing is worth doing right, so I want you to keep breathing deeply as we move on and let your release your semen.” Johnny nodded weakly, his overloaded mind thrilling at the fact that she was going to let him cum. For some reason her word “spending” made what they were doing all the more erotic. He was going to give his seed to her – as homage, he suddenly thought, to the mother goddess, whom Mrs. Boneham had now become. And that is what she was, a goddess of feminine power, possessing all the traits of authority and demanding all the seed he could produce as a tribute to her. His thoughts were interrupted when he realized that he hadn’t heard any giggling for a while. It was as if Rebecca had fallen silent to take in and contemplate Mrs. Boneham’s words. Unbeknown to Johnny, the young girl was learning valuable relationship skills from the older woman. His attention was eventually brought back to what was being expected of him when he felt Mrs. Boneham’s soft fingers grab hold of his cock once more. She was testing its rigidity again. “Good work, Johnny, your willy is at maximum length, so we can proceed. Keep breathing, Johnny,” she reminded him.

Mrs. Boneham began to lazily stroke his cock in playful fashion. Occasionally she would grasp her massive teat and lean forward, kissing the nipple to his cock head. She vigorously rubbed the hard nub along the edge of his sensitive glans, causing it to throb out another glob of precum. Johnny was beside himself with pleasure. Mrs. Boneham chuckled her approval of his panting and sighing. “What a good boy you are,” she babied him kindheartedly. The words seemed to be spoken in genuine affection but were at once humiliating and incredibly erotic.

Over the last few minutes, the deep breathing had taken its toll on poor Johnny. He was feeling light-headed and soon began to shiver all over his body. Upon seeing this, Mrs. Boneham took her ministrations to the next level. She brought one hand lower to handle his testicles, rolling them around rhythmically. Every so often she would choke the ‘neck’ of his scrotum, pulling the skin taut as his testicles were squeezed inside the confines of their sack. She looked at his face and smiled. He watched her hand as she gently tugged at his balls, making them feel heavy and full. She gripped his penis tighter and began to masturbate him in a firm milking motion with long, slow, deliberate strokes. The added urgency was not lost on Johnny who with the heightened pleasure began to falter in his breathing, which degenerated into panting and groaning. The giggling from behind the divider became more frequent as his cries grew louder and more passionate. “Focus on your breathing, Johnny,” Mrs. Boneham chided him. Johnny visibly strained with the effort to return to the pattern she had laid out for him earlier. “In, out, in, out, there’s my good boy,” she aided and encouraged him, herself not missing a beat with her own pumping rhythm on his cock. With each upstroke of her hand she pointed his penis slightly downwards, only to swivel it up towards his belly each time her hand thrust down and exposed his glans as his foreskin was retracted. Unbeknown to Johnny, who had never had sex, Mrs. Boneham was mimicking the exact motions of a penis during vaginal penetration. But the value of this expert manipulation was not lost on the young man as he shook and spasmed uncontrollably in response. The situation was quickly coming to a head. A moment later, Mrs. Boneham felt Johnny reach what she called “the excitation plateau” and she abruptly stopped her ministrations to keep him from erupting. Johnny’s red, engorged cock bobbed lewdly as she released it. Johnny opened his eyes and looked down the length of his body in confused surprise.

“Alright, Johnny, it’s almost time for you to spend. I want you to keep up your breathing and keep your eyes open. It might help if you focus on something: my face – and perhaps my breasts would probably work best since you’ve been staring at them since you walked in here. It’s important that you don’t close your eyes. Whatever you do, keep your eyes open, keep them focused on me. I don’t care what part of me, as long as your eyes are somewhere on me, understand? And keep up your deep breathing,” she instructed earnestly. Johnny nodded in understanding.

Mrs. Boneham then gingerly placed her hands back on his penis and balls, mindful that any sudden move might set him off prematurely. Johnny continued his deep breathing as he shivered spasmodically in a combination of anticipation, eroticism, and his oxygen high. Mrs. Boneham began slow, tight-fisted strokes along his cock-shaft, stopping frequently when he got too close to release. His foreskin moved back and forth with her motions, rolling and unrolling from around his sensitive cock head. By now his cock was drooling a constant stream of precum. Johnny was beginning to utter loud, soulful moans with each breath.

“Mmm, my big boy is getting ready to give me what I want,” Mrs. Boneham teased, “aren’t you, my dear boy? We’ve got a lot of semen building up, don’t we? You’re going to let me have all of it, aren’t you, Johnny?”, she toyed with him verbally in a low, seductive voice. Johnny was going mad with pleasure. His gaze darted back and forth between Mrs. Boneham’s smiling, knowing face and her large, pendant breasts, which delightfully caressed the insides of his thighs as she played with his penis. Mrs. Boneham finally decided she had built up a large-enough load inside him.

“Alright Johnny, it’s time for you to spend for me. I want a big effort from you now. Let it all out. Give it to me, Johnny!” she declared loudly. Mrs. Boneham applied one last tight-gripped stroke all the way down his cock-shaft, which she knew would push him over the edge and start his release. She then quickly brought her fist up just under the head of Johnny’s cock. Using shorter stokes timed in unison with the contractions of his cock, she focused on the sensitive area just under the rim of its head where the foreskin attaches to the shaft. The long edge of her finger buried itself into the furrow of sensitive skin there with each powerful stroke. Johnny convulsed violently as she did this, his hips bucking up as the first large stream of cum spurted high into the air. He grunted with pleasure bordering on pain. He felt like his semen was being ripped from the head of his penis. “That’s it, honey, just like that. Big spurts now. Gimme lots of big-boy spurts,” she goaded him with a greedy smile at the sight of his first massive volley of semen. “Cum for me honey, let me have all of it. I want all of it. Give it all up for me, come on.” Semen continued to erupt from Johnny’s loins, jet after jet fountaining into the air. Through the haze of pleasure Johnny heard a gasp from behind the office divider. Mrs. Boneham continued her inflammatory remarks as she forced out more cum, not caring where the ejaculate landed; instead, she focused solely on the spurting cock between in her fingers. “Oh! Oh my! Look at that! Oh, my dear! Look at all that messy cum! Oh, my dear boy!” she gasped as Johnny’s cock continued to produce long strands of semen far longer than anticipated. Most of it landed on Johnny’s abdomen and legs but much of it found refuge on Mrs. Boneham’s thighs and bosom. “There’s a good boy,” she praised with genuine delight at the shower of come he produced, her hand pumping for still more. “Good, good boy! Don’t hold any of it back, Johnny – spend yourself on me, that’s it!” Finally, the eruptions weakened and Johnny’s hips stopped bucking. “My, what a good boy you are,” Mrs. Boneham enthused with bird-bright eyes. When she was sure she had everything he could produce, Mrs. Boneham’s earnest manipulations changed to an appreciative caress of Johnny’s depleted member. “What a good boy you are, Johnny. I must say, I am certainly pleased with your efforts. It seems I was wrong earlier; your production is well beyond anything I could have hoped for. In all my years, I’ve never seen such a lewd and hedonistic display of virility. You spurted so much cum – look at us!” She happily motioned at all the spent semen covering both of them. “I am so proud of you. Well done, young man. Well done, indeed,” she said, jiggling her cum-splattered boobs at him with a shake of her shoulders in tribute. It was important to connect what had just happened with feelings of approval. While the episode had ultimately been shameful, the excessive praise allowed him to accept it and connect it with the physical pleasure of orgasmic release – both obtained by her good grace.

Johnny for his part could only groan weakly in response. In a sudden burst of maternal affection, Mrs. Boneham’s heart went out to him. “Aw, my poor baby. I know this wasn’t easy for you, but in the long run this is for the best. This sort of thing is healthy for a boy like you – you need a firm hand to keep you on the right path.” Johnny just lay there limply. “You’re such a good boy Johnny, let me reward you for making such a spectacular effort,” she said as she leaned back on the couch, pulling him on top of her as she did so. Resting his head on one large breast, she guided a nipple to his lips, nudging him so he would take it in his mouth and latch on. “Yes, that’s it, suckle on the big breasts you love so much, sweetie. Once I saw how you couldn’t keep your eyes off them, I knew exactly what you needed, didn’t I? You just need some big, soft, mommy-breasts to suckle and to spend all your messy mess in my hand, didn’t you? You’re such a needy boy, Johnny,” she cuddled and cooed to him as she stroked his hair. Johnny drifted to the edge of sleep as he sucked comfortingly on the turgid, pebble-rimmed nipple, seemingly oblivious to the fact he was nuzzling up to a breast practically glazed with his own tacky spunk. Mrs. Boneham wrapped her legs around his hips, allowing his slick penis to press tightly against her warm panty-covered pussy-mound while she continued to whisper lewd encouragements into his ear.

Before Johnny drifted off to sleep, he was vaguely aware of Mrs. Boneham calling Rebecca into her office and asking her to bring damp washcloths. Later, Johnny wasn’t sure if he had imagined this but he thought he saw the beautiful Rebecca leaning down with her own magnificent bosom – still covered by her clothes, regrettably – in his face. She whispered how cute he looked, naked and nursing on one of Mrs. Boneham’s engorged nipples. The heavy fog then took him as he drifted off into a contented sleep. The rest was silence.

As a result of this first meeting, Mrs. Boneham became Johnny’s permanent academic counselor. Every day, before and after school, Johnny would meet with his her for an ‘academic advising session’. At lunch he would also meet with Rebecca for a ‘peer advising session’ in one of the empty classrooms. From that first session, Johnny had become sexually bound to his academic counselor and not a day went by when he didn’t need to shamefully, but gratefully, release his seed for her. While this arrangement would prove marginally successful in that Johnny managed keep his GPA above a 2.0, thus keeping him off academic probation, ultimately, however, it was a failure. Johnny never was able to regain the high grade-point average of his freshman and sophomore years. Many factors may have contributed to this but the primary reason seems to have been his subconscious fear of being reassigned to his old advisor, Mrs. Baggends. Unfortunately, it was school policy that if his grades improved above a 3.0 then he must be reassigned to his former academic advisor. To Johnny, Mrs. Boneham’s hands-on advising sessions were too important to let his GPA, and the prospect of a bright future, get in the way. The bright and intelligent Johnny, while saved from a life as an underachiever through the twice-daily efforts of Mrs. Boneham, had for those very same reasons consigned himself willingly to a life of mediocrity.

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About Onania . Org/asm

Onania . Org/asm is a resource for people living with chronic masturbation addiction. It is owned by Richard Lovel and expresses his life-long fascination with masturbatory behavior — especially in its more chronic and compulsive manifestations.

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