Breaking Him In

When Nick was eighteen he had a major bust up with his Stepdad. He had just finished college and after all those years of schooling had decided he deserved a rest and time to kick back and chill out. His stepdad had other ideas, he felt it was time that Nick helped out at home more, got a job and started paying rent, after all this wasn't a hotel! Instead Nick spent his days in bed and his nights playing computer games.

After four week his mother had simply had enough of the rows so he was was packed away to spend some time with his mothers older sister, his Aunt Lydia. Nick complained throughout the three hour journey, so when they got to Aunt Lydia's his mother dropped him off at her house and left him with his suitcase telling his Aunt, that she had had enough of his behaviour and needed a break and that her sister was to do whatever she could to control him as no one else could. Nick was not at all happy and objected noisily, receiving a stern look from his aunt.

Whereas Nick's mother had married and devoted her life to raising a family with Nick and his sister, Aunt Lydia had never married preferring a career over a husband and family, she now ran her own successful business. As a result she lived in a large house set in large grounds.

As soon as his mother had left Aunt Lydia had Nick carry his case up to a spare room and left him alone with his thoughts to cool off. He soon decided that he certainly didn't want to stay with her. So he marched into his aunt's bed room and told her he was old enough to make my own decisions and that he was leaving.

Aunt Lydia didn’t flinch. "You’re staying the summer," she said, not looking up from the dresser where she was adjusting her pearl necklace.

Nick had always been a little bit intimidated by his aunt, not only was she a successful business woman, she was a powerful looking woman too. Now in her late fifties with her cropped hair sytle, she was almost 6 feet tall without the high held that she always wore and was well built at 13 stone, she tended to wear very tight fitting dresses and business suits and was certainly well stacked! Nick on the other hand, stood only 5 feet 6 inches tall and weighed a mere 10 stone, and frankly had a much smaller frame than his aunt. Family rumour was that she was a butch lesbian but Nick had never really paid any interest to her when he was growing up.

Nick swallowed hard, his throat dry. He’d only packed for a weekend. "Well, just till Monday then, right?" His voice cracked halfway through.

Her reflection in the mirror smiled—slow, knowing. "We’ll see." She turned, heels clicking on the hardwood, and cupped his chin with manicured fingers. "You’re not a child anymore."

Behind her, the bedroom door opened without a knock. A woman with sharp cheekbones and an even tighter dress than Lydia’s leaned against the frame. "Started without me?" she purred. Nick’s pulse kicked up. He didn’t even know her name or what she meant by her statement. Like his aunt this woman was also tall and well built with massive breasts that seemed to be spilling out over the top of her black corset style dress.

Lydia’s hand slid from his chin to his collarbone, fingers tracing the edge of his shirt. "Meet Veronica," she said, watching his Adam’s apple bob. "She’s going to help me..... educate you." The way she lingered on the last word sent heat crawling up Nick’s neck.

Veronica circled him like a panther, her perfume thick with cinnamon and something darker. "Oh look Lydia, he’s blushing," she laughed, plucking at the waistband of his jeans. The sudden brush of her nails against his hipbone made him jerk.

Lydia clicked her tongue. "Still jumpy," she murmured. "We’ll fix that." Nick’s breath caught as Veronica draped a hand over his shoulders. Nick tried to speak but found that his mouth had gone completely dry and all that came out was a mumble. "Don't try to speak, boy" Veronica stated sternly "little boys are to be seen but not heard, do you understand!"

Nick was about to nod when his aunt’s hands tore open the buttons of his shirt before he realized she’d moved. Veronica’s laughter curled around him as the fabric parted, her breath hot against his ear. "Such pretty smooth skin," she mused, dragging a fingertip down his sternum. Nick’s knees trembled; the air smelled like pressed linen and the metallic tang of Lydia’s lipstick.

"Watch," Lydia commanded, snapping her fingers toward Veronica. The other woman’s dress slid down her body and pooled at her feet in one liquid motion as she quickly unzipped it. Nick’s gaze darted away—too late. Veronica caught his chin, forcing his eyes lower. "Lesson one," Lydia said, stepping behind him. Her hands settled on his hips. "You don’t look away unless we tell you to, do you understand?" Nick just nodded, his brain unable to comprehend what was going on as he stared at Veronica's curvy body, naked but for a tiny thong and 6" heels.

Somewhere downstairs, a grandfather clock chimed. Nick counted each strike while Veronica’s thigh brushed his. Six. Lydia’s mouth grazed the edge of his ear as she murmured, "Now count how many times she cums before midnight!"

His gasp turned ragged when Lydia’s nails scraped down his bare abdomen. "He’s shaking," Veronica observed, her free hand skimming the tented fabric between his legs. "Like a little rabbit."

Lydia’s laugh was low, proprietary. She pressed her body flush against Nick’s back, her silk blouse cool through his ruined shirt. "And he hasn’t even seen the toys yet." Her teeth closed lightly on his earlobe as Veronica’s fingers popped the button of his jeans.

Nick’s whimper echoed off the high ceilings when Veronica’s palm cupped him through cotton briefs—sudden, unforgiving pressure. Lydia caught his wrist before he could cover himself. "Ah-ah," she chided, guiding his hand to Veronica’s waist. The heat of the other woman’s skin seared his fingertips. "Touch where we want only!"

Veronica’s grip tightened, her thumb circling lazily through the fabric. Nick’s hips jerked involuntarily; she smirked. "Eager boy," she murmured, peeling his jeans down his thighs with agonizing slowness. The zipper’s teeth caught—Lydia sighed and tore them the rest of the way in one sharp tug.

Behind him, something metallic clicked. Nick twisted to look, but Lydia’s knee between his legs kept him pinned. "Eyes forward," she ordered, sliding something cold and smooth up his inner thigh. The object glinted—chrome, curved. Veronica leaned in, nipping his jaw. "Ever seen a cock ring, darling?" As she grabbed hold of his boxers and yanked them down."

"Aha" exclaimed his Aunt " See I told you, Veronica, that the small cock ring would be enough for his puny manhood!"

The grandfather clock ticked louder. Nick’s pulse hammered where Lydia’s fingers pressed against it, counting. "Six hours till midnight," she noted, snapping the device in place with clinical precision. The thick steel device clamping around his flaccid manhood. Veronica’s laughter hitched as he gasped. "Plenty of time to teach you how to beg."

His knees buckled when Veronica’s nails raked up his thighs—too sharp to ignore, too slow to brace for. Lydia caught him by the hair, forcing his head back against her shoulder. "Count," she breathed, and Veronica’s mouth closed over his nipple. Wet heat. Teeth. His moan shattered into pieces.

Somewhere beyond the ringing in his ears, metal clattered against his wrists....cuffs, he realized, as Lydia draped them over his wrists behind his back like a macabre bracelet. Veronica’s tongue traced his ribs. "Still quiet," she taunted, licking the bead of sweat pooling in the dip of his clavicle. "Let’s fix that."

The cold press of the metal cuffs against his flushed skin made Nick whimper. Lydia hummed approval, snapping the cuffs closed around his wrists with a twist of her fingers. "Better," she murmured, as Veronica’s hands finally closed around him, slick with oil and intent.

Nick gasped as suddenly the ring stared vibrating. His cock seemed to have a mind of its own, it was growing large and hard, but constrained by the small cock ring his meat seemed to be trying to burst free.

Veronica’s thumb swirled over the head, smearing precum down his shaft in slow, deliberate stripes. "Oh look Lydia he's a grower not a shower and he’s leaking," she noted, her voice thick with amusement. Nick choked on air when she squeezed—just once, just enough to make his vision blur at the edges. Lydia’s tongue traced the shell of his ear. "Good boys don’t come without permission," she reminded him, fingers tightening in his hair.

A fresh wave of cinnamon-laced perfume hit him as Veronica knelt, her breath ghosting over his thighs. The first lick—broad, wet—drew a broken noise from Nick’s throat. He jerked against the cuffs, metal biting into his wrists. Lydia chuckled darkly, pressing the chrome ring tighter. "Count for us," she ordered, just as Veronica kneeled before him and licked the head of his bulging cock before leaning forward and sucking it between her bright red full lips.

Nick’s sob echoed off the walls. He could feel Veronica’s throat working around him, as she took him deeper into her mouth while Lydia’s nails were scoring his hips. The clock’s ticking warped into a frantic staccato. Nine. Teeth grazed his length—he arched, chains on the cuffs singing. Veronica pulled back with a wet pop, grinning up at him. "Oh," she purred, thumbing his swollen lower lip, "he’s good at counting." Lydia’s grip tightened. "Prove it."

The chrome ring cock ring burned now, relentless pressure against over sensitive flesh of his now fully erect cock, its head standing out hard and purple. Veronica traced its outline with her tongue, cruel and unhurried. Every nerve ending screamed. Nick’s knees trembled—Lydia caught his chin, forcing him to watch as Veronica dipped her head again. "Ten," she murmured against his skin, just before swallowing him whole.

His vision whited out. The chains went taut. Somewhere beyond the roaring in his ears, Lydia’s voice curled like smoke: "Again." Veronica obeyed, hollowing her cheeks with obscene precision. The grandfather clock chimed—half past something—but Nick couldn’t hear past the blood pounding in his skull. He tasted salt. Realized it was his own tears.

Lydia’s palm cracked across his nakde cheeks. The pain bloomed bright. Veronica moaned against his thigh then rose gracefully, licking her lips. Behind her, Lydia unbuckled her belt with a slow, deliberate snick. The leather slithered free with a whisper Nick felt in his bones. Veronica caught his chin, tilting his head back. "You’ll thank us," she promised, just as Lydia’s belt bit into his thighs—once, twice, leaving twin stripes of fire. The scent of his own sweat mixed with Lydia’s gardenia perfume.

Nick was pushed forward, his knees hitting the rug. Veronica’s fingers tangled in his hair, forcing his mouth against her silk-clad mound. Lydia’s belt coiled around his throat—not tight, not yet. "Lesson three," she murmured from somewhere above. "Pleasure is currency." Veronica ground against his lips. The clock groaned toward midnight.

Lydia’s knee nudged his legs wider. Metal clicked—something heavier than chains. Veronica’s breath hitched. "Oh," she purred, releasing Nick just long enough to meet Lydia’s smirk. "You brought the good toys." Nick’s stomach dropped as he felt something cold probe against the cleft between his buttocks. Pushing against his tight hole before penetrating him. He gasped as the first vibration against his prostate wrenched a sob from his chest. Lydia’s laughter dripped like honey. "Midnight’s coming, boy." The belt tightened around his throat. "Count faster."

Veronica’s fingers twisted deeper into his hair, forcing his mouth where she wanted it. She pulled the silk thong aside. The vibrations kicked in higher. Nick writhed, drooling against Veronica’s bare skin now, the scent of her musk drowning his senses. Lydia’s heel pressed into the small of his back, keeping him arched just right. "Four," she murmured, watching his cock twitch. "You’re slacking."

The grandfather clock wheezed—one minute left. Veronica yanked his head back by the roots, her other hand splayed on Lydia’s hip like a claim. Nick’s vision swam. Something thick and wet dripped onto his tongue before he realized Lydia was guiding Veronica’s pussy lips into his mouth. "Lesson four," Lydia whispered, "Swallow everything."

The clock struck twelve. The toy inside him pulsed once—hard—just as Veronica shoved deep. Nick’s scream muffled against the belt. Lydia counted each shuddering convulsion with clinical precision. "Five," she announced, stroking Veronica’s flushed cheek as the woman rode Nick’s face, his head trapped between her powerful thighs. "See?" Lydia’s thumb smeared tears across his cheekbone. "I told you we’d fix that jumpiness."

Veronica’s thrusts turned vicious, her thighs clamping harder around Nick’s skull. As he gasped for air she rode his bulging tongue, coming once, twice—before she pulled back with a wet sound. Lydia caught the drool stringing from his lips with two fingers, painting it across his nipple. "Again," she ordered. Veronica obeyed, slamming home. Nick tasted her juices and salt—her sweat, his own—as the vibrator twisted inside him.

Veronica’s moans reached a crescendo - fake, performative, until they weren’t. Her nails bit into Lydia’s wrist as she came, grinding against Nick’s slack mouth. He gagged. The vibrator stuttered to life once more, unrelenting. Lydia’s smile was all teeth. "Six," she corrected, watching his back arch. "Almost counts."

The aftershocks left Nick twitching, ropes of spend streaking his stomach. Veronica collapsed against Lydia, breathless. Her fingers traced the belt marks circling Nick’s throat. "Still standing," she observed. Lydia hummed, unbuckling the strap with one hand. "For now." The toy hit the floor between Nick’s splayed knees—still buzzing faintly. Veronica’s laugh curled around them both. "Next lesson?" she prompted, loosing the belt from around his neck. Lydia’s gaze dropped lower. "Strap-on," she decided. Nick’s sob hitched mid-breath. The clock ticked on.

Veronica knelt, running her tongue along the welts Lydia’s belt had left. Nick shuddered—oversensitive, overstimulated. She nipped the inside of his thigh. "First time?" she murmured against damp skin. Lydia answered for him, snapping latex gloves into place. "Virgin ass." The words dripped with promise. Veronica’s grin turned feral. She palmed the discarded strap, slicking it with oil until it gleamed, reaching into the bedside drawer she removed a black dildo with round orbs at the base that clicked in to the strap before tightening this around her waist. Nick’s Adam’s apple bobbed.

Lydia lifted him effortlessly onto her bed. Catching the back of his head, forcing his head down as he knelt on the bed, his body forward, his pale cheeks high in the air. "Now Lean forward and suck on the cock to lubricate it as we dont want to ruin you quite yet!" Nick was forced forward, his lips pushed againt the hard dildo. "Suck it I said". He opened his mouth and started to lick the head. "Lick more" Lydia shouted, "coat it with your saliva" He did as instructed, afraid of what was to come next.

"Good now look up and watch in the mirror," she ordered him, as Veronika moved behind him and guided the tip of the dildo to his entrance, forcing it against his still tight hold. The stretch burned—slow, inexorable. Veronica’s knuckles whitened on the base. "Breathe," she advised. He didn’t.

Veronica’s dildo pushed harder againt his virgin arse, the slick cock slowly forcing its way in until it brutally invaded his body. The noise he made—raw, shattered—echoed off the canopy bed. Veronica rolled her hips experimentally. "Mmmm so much tighter than I expected," she admitted, adjusting her stance. Lydia’s nails dug into his shoulders. "Good." The word vibrated against his sweat-slick back. Nick’s vision swam. The toy’s ridge dragged against his prostate with every retreat. Veronica’s rhythm stuttered when Lydia’s hand slid between her legs. "Fuck him properly," Lydia breathed. Veronica obeyed, slamming home. The headboard cracked against the wall.

Nick’s wrists strained against the cuffs. Every thrust jolted through him—bright, blinding. Lydia’s teeth closed over his shoulder. "Eight," she counted, right as Veronica’s pace turned punishing. The strap’s balls slapped against his cheeks. Veronica’s moans pitched higher, her free hand clutching Lydia’s wrist. "Gonna—" Lydia cut her off with a sharp twist of fingers. "Make him come first." The command sent Veronica surging forward, angling deeper. Nick’s scream dissolved into wet gasps. The clock chimed one. Lydia’s laugh ghosted over his ear. "Time’s up." Veronica’s hips stuttered. Nick felt shattered.

Oil dripped down Nick’s thighs where Lydia poured it—slow, deliberate. Veronica’s fingers worked the excess into him, circling the stretched rim. "Still clenching," she noted, pressing two knuckles in to the hilt. Nick’s hips jerked. Lydia caught his knees, spreading them wider. "Again," she ordered. Veronica slid the dildo back in with a wet squelch. This time it entered far easier but the stretch still burned—too much, not enough. Nick’s toes curled. Veronica’s thrusts turned shallow, brutal. The headboard cracked again. Lydia’s fingers pinched his nipple. "Nine."

Nick’s vision tunnelled. The toy’s rhythm stuttered—Veronica’s hips losing coordination. Lydia’s palm cracked against his ass. "Harder." Veronica obeyed, slamming deep. The bedframe groaned. Nick’s throat worked around silent screams. Lydia’s fingers tangled in Veronica’s hair, pulling her back just enough to watch the strap disappear inside him. "Count," she demanded. Veronica’s hips snapped forward. "Ten." Nick came untouched—violently, messily. Veronica followed with a bitten-off cry, her knees buckling. Lydia caught her, smearing the mess across Nick’s stomach. "Good boy." The clock struck two.

Lydia unclipped the harness, letting the strap slide free with a lewd pop. Veronica collapsed beside Nick, her large chest heaving. Lydia’s fingers traced the reddened rim, collecting slick. "Next time," she murmured, pressing two fingers back in, "we’ll use the larger double." Nick’s whimper hitched. Veronica’s laugh was hoarse. "Still tight after all that?" Lydia’s fingers crooked. Nick convulsed. "Mmm." She withdrew, licking them clean. "We’ll fix that too." The chains clinked as she unbuckled them. Nick’s arms dropped—lead weights. Veronica nuzzled his throat. Lydia’s smile promised worse. Dawn lit the curtains. The clock ticked on.

Veronica’s fingers dipped between Nick’s thighs, gathering the mess. She painted it across his parted lips. "Swallow," she ordered, thumb pressing down. His tongue obeyed—slow, reluctant. Lydia watched, buckling up her second strap-on—thicker, knotted shaped like a dogs cock. The base glistened with fresh oil. Nick’s breath hitched. Veronica pinched his nipple. "Already?" Lydia chuckled, palming the toy. The head nudged his ruined entrance. Veronica’s teeth grazed his earlobe. "Breathe." He didn’t. The stretch tore a scream from his raw throat. Lydia pushed deeper, relentless. "Eleven," she counted. The knot caught. Nick sobbed.

His back arched off the mattress as Lydia seated fully, pushing his legs up high over his head, the base of the strap-on flush against his bruised skin. Veronica's strong thighs straddled his face, grinding down. "Again," she demanded, fingers tight in his hair. Lydia’s thrusts started slow—agonizing drag of silicone over oversensitive flesh. Nick’s thighs trembled. Veronica’s moans vibrated against his tongue. Lydia’s pace quickened, the bedframe screeching. The headboard cracked against the wall. Nick’s vision whited out. Veronica came with a cry, drenching his chin. Lydia followed, slamming home one final time. The knot stretched him impossibly wider. "Twelve," she gasped, collapsing atop him. Dawn bled into day.