The Gay Archivist

By Jay Roberts

Published on Jul 24, 2008

Gay

"The Gay Archivist, Part Two" by Jay Roberts Gay College

The following day I hurried past the reception desk. The uniformed officer there waved at me. I was already known. I walked rapidly down the corridors, my rubber sandals flapping, and on to the far end of the building. I knocked on young Dr. Castleberry's office door.

"Come in John. I'm ready for you." By that I guess he meant that he was in a silk robe. This was the first time I had seen him this way. He waved his hand in a signal for me to disrobe. I was so used to the gesture, and being naked here, that I obeyed without thinking.

He took my arm and held it tightly. "Lay on this examining table."

I lay on my back. Before it could barely register on me, he had snapped restraints on my legs, at the ankles, another strap across my stomach, and he lifted both arms up and locked them with plastic bands laced through eyebolts above me. I was completely captured. Except for small wiggles, I was trapped like a butterfly in some demon's collection.

"Today you will learn about the fetish of sexual tickling."

What he didn't know yet was that I was terrified of being tickled. I was supremely affected by tickling. If carried on too long, it became painful to me and I would lose all sense of dignity and consciousness.

"I am going to test you first." He held his hand about two inches away from my underarm and wiggled his fingers like he was playing trills on the piano. I immediately reacted as hot electrical flashes traversed my body. While they hurt slightly, my only reaction, to my chagrin, was to let out a few girlish giggles.

"That's nice Bobby boy. Enjoy this, and I promise I will not touch you."

He began holding his fingers above my belly. I squirmed and pushed against the restraints as I howled with mirthless laugher. Although he didn't touch me, the mental image of his tickling fingers was enough to create an intense effect. To add to my discomfiture, my penis began to get hard and it was rising inch by inch from the crossed wires of my stimulation.

Now my torturer began making grasping motions and worked quickly up and down my body. "You are dripping precum, you sexy boi," he said tauntingly. "I bet if I make motions around your ball sac and ass hole, you might just orgasm. In fact, the sweat on your forehead and the faint odor of testosterone indicates that you are well on your way. But if you ask nicely, I will desist, but another experience awaits you."

"Please Doctor. I am going crazy. I can't stand anymore. I might pass out. I will do anything you wish in return."

"Ah, the magic words. I will collect that promise, but for now, when you are released, you must go to the lavatory and lie in the tube. Do not put the tap on. I have another way for you to be bathed." He laughed, quite crazily and I wondered if perhaps he was unhinged.

I lay there, recovering from the rigors of the tickling when he entered. He said nothing, but took his large penis in his hand, rolled back the foreskin and held in over my chest. He grunted a few times, then out of his piss slit a short burst of urine splashed on my chest and rolled down my belly. He then allowed the full force of his urine come out. I never saw such a full stream. It almost hurt as it pelted against my skin. I saw the deep amber color and the strong, spicy odor filled my nose.

He spoke with difficulty. Apparently Robert was a guy whose urination was a big experience for him. "I see you are getting an erection from my piss. Would you call that a piss hard on?" He laughed at his own joke. It was true; again I was close to cumming.

Finally he shook the last drops on me. "Okay boi, get in the shower, then come into the office and there is a costume waiting for you."

There it was, shiny black leather, boots, pants, blouse and helmet. He nodded at me. "That's right, they are your size. Put them on and you will discover a transformation."

I pulled up the pants, there were tight against my legs. In the front was a pouch held with a snap. Next the blouse, zippered in front. As was already feeling breathless with a new excitement I had never felt before. Sure I had a leather jacket, a blazer that I wore in the fall, but then my whole body being encased was highly arousing. He mimed that I should put on the helmet. It slipped over my head and over my face. There were openings for my eyes, nose and mouth.

"Stand here. Open the pouch. Take out your prick."

He had barked these orders. I enjoyed obeying. After my penis was pulled out of the opening I stood there, swaying, my penis pulsing with excitement.

"Jerk off in front of me. I'll watch."

This was something hard for me to accept. Masturbation was my private activity. Yes I had been sucked off and my hard prick was seen, but never did I do a wank in front of someone. But now, I was pleased to follow orders and show Robert how I did it, how my heavy spooging is surprising.

I closed my eyes and began. My mind began to drift over the wet experience, over the diaper, tickling and now this leather suit that made me look like a black devil. My cock never felt so ready to explode. It was so full of blood and pulsations that I was almost faint.

"Come on girlie. Wank that cock. Don't be a wimp."

His insults thrilled me and drove me to furiously slide up and down the shaft. I performed a motion that had been my secret that was that I liked to rub my palm over the head and the piss hole while jerking the shaft. He laughed as he noticed it. His laugh only added to my humiliation, and my humiliation only added to the thrill that was radiating from my prick to every part of my body. Suddenly a hoarse voice I didn't recognize, my own husking. "Robert, my torturer, my love, I am about to cum."

My prick seemed to pull inward then thrust out and delivered a long stream that almost crossed the room.

I stood there trembling and shaking from the force of my orgasm. Robert sat in his chair with a self-satisfied expression on his face. "You may now remove the leather outfit so I can return it to is display case. Then dress and leave, but you are young, I am sure you will be ready for the ultimate sexual experience this afternoon. Remember, you promised me that you would do anything if I stopped the sham tickling. Well, I will collect on that promise this afternoon at two o'clock."

End Part Two

I admit there are many other exquisite sexual practices that I have not covered, some a little scary and dangerous. But this were the ones the Archivist chose.

Next: Chapter 3


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