Paul's Adoption

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    Chapter 1

    By Sensory OverLord

    Story starts with Paul at his mother's bedside in

    hospital. She's weak, dying of lukemia. Touching conversation.

    Discussion of how he'll be moving in with the Friths that afternoon. She's

    sorry she can't afford to keep their house. %%%

    She checks details with him. Yes, he's packed up the last of his stuff.

    Yes, those people who bought his bed and desk came and collected it early

    that morning. Yes, the house is all vaccumed and the fridge cleaned out.

    Yes, he did his homework last night. Yes, he's given the Friths her set of

    house keys, and they'll drop them in to the agent on Monday.

    She runs out of strength to speak, and there's a long silence. Then she

    reaches for his hand, squeezing it. "Paul, you're a fine son. I'm very

    proud of you. I'm.... I'm sorry I've neglected you in some ways."

    "Mum... I never felt neglected. I always knew you had to work hard to

    support us."

    "Oh that's not what I... You know with all the political changes over

    the years, the DHM, and all, I sort of... just never could... with you

    growing to be a young man, I'm afraid I definitely did neglect some of my

    duties. I'm sorry you've had to deal with... things... on your own."

    Paul has an idea of the topic, and it brings a sudden redness to his

    ears. He desperately does not want to discuss this, here, now. His mother

    is silent a while again, watching him.

    "I can see you know what I mean. You're such a shy boy Paul, and that's

    my fault too. But you know you're going to be staying with the Frith's

    till the end of the school year. After that you'll be adopted by my

    sister's family. From what I know both families are quite progressive and

    responsible. You'll find...."

    She pauses again, gathering strength.

    "You may find it a bit of a shock at first. But it's for the best, and

    I'm sure you'll adapt. I want you to know that I've given the Friths full

    authority. Full... um... moral guardianship... it sounds so strange,

    doesn't it? I really have let things slip, I'm so sorry. No, don't say

    anything...."

    He wasn't really about to. The entire subject makes him squirm.

    "Paul, I can't be sure I'll be able to talk with you sensibly much

    longer. And you're moving in with our friends today. So I want you to

    promise me... ... promise me now you'll be good, and mind what you're

    told. They're all law-abiding families, and you can get in a lot of

    trouble with the DHM these days if you don't take your moral duties

    seriously."

    She's getting very weak, and pauses for a long time, perhaps waiting for

    him to answer. But he's still tongue tied.

    "Paul, promise me you'll do as you're told." She squeezes both his hands

    with her one hand he's holding in his. He can barely feel her effort.

    He knows she's right, even if it frightens him deeply. "I promise mum.

    I'll stay out of trouble, do as I'm told, and work hard at school. Don't

    worry mum... I'll be OK."

    "Good boy Paul. I know I can trust you. You're very responsible

    really, even if you... hhhhhh..."

    She sighs deeply, takes a slow inhalation and continues.

    "I find it hard to talk about these things. Old fashioned... I talked

    to April, but couldn't with Bonnie. It's very likely the Friths will take

    a more active role in your um... development than I have, but I don't

    know... I trust her though. Just don't forget you promised to do as you

    are told." She stops briefly, looking around the room, then continues in a

    soft whisper. "Paul... I know you masturbate a lot. No... don't say

    anything. I'm not blind and deaf. I was just too timid to take charge and

    stop that. I'm sorry..."

    Paul has now gone bright red. He wasn't going to say anything, he just

    jerked in surprise when she said that. He's glad she's whispering, saying

    a thing like that carelessly can get a guy into serious trouble with the

    authorities.

    After a long silence, in which she gazes at him with her eyelids

    drooping as if she's going to sleep, she continues, weakly but no longer

    whispering.

    "Don't worry, I know you'll be strong enough. I'm so proud of you Paul,

    for everything you are. I know it will be difficult for you to hold it

    like you should... and it's my fault for neglecting you. I... I kept

    telling myself I'd have to begin, to set... to get you used to a... um

    acceptable routine. But I just never could. I'm so sorry Paul... ....

    Don't forget... you promised."

    Soon after, as he's sitting there still holding her hand and she seems

    to have drifted off to sleep, a nurse comes in and reminds him it's time to

    go.

    - - -

    The house seems so strange, all empty and echoey. Back from visiting

    his mother in hospital, Paul wanders around checking in cupboards, looking

    for anything he's forgotten. There's nothing, and every room is completely

    bare. Everything has been sold, or given away, or sent to recycling. Even

    the fridge is cleaned out and standing open, turned off. Now there's just

    a few cardboard boxes of his stuff stacked near the front door, ready to go

    when the Friths arrive about 1pm; in a couple of hours. He's lived here

    all his life, 17 years. So many memories. He can still remember times in

    his early childhood, when his father was alive and this house held nothing

    but happiness. Summers playing in the back yard, in a sandpit his dad had

    made. It's long gone, only grass between the trees now where he remembers

    the timber frame and the cloth cover to keep leaves out when he wasn't

    playing there. He remembers how he'd ask his father to play swings, and

    the world spinning as his dad held him by the hands and swung him around

    and around. Then there was a time of sadness, when his dad died of one of

    the Fevers. He'd been 7. He can't remember seeing his father ever ill,

    only his mother seeming to cry forever.

    But that had passed in his child's memories, and there had been many

    more years of happiness in this house, growing up with only his mother.

    The more he examines his early memories, the sadder it's making him. He

    decides to keep himself busy, and has the idea to change out of the good

    clothes he'd worn to the hospital, to old clothes for moving boxes later.

    He'd been so distracted this morning, he didn't think to leave out a set of

    old clothes. He strips, realises there's nowhere better to put his good

    clothes than in the box with the others. He cuts open the tape on the

    'good clothes' box, folds away his clothes, retapes up the box. His 'old

    clothes' box is there, taped up, and he's about to cut it open when it

    occurs to him that he's standing nude in the livingroom, with not a scrap

    of cloth left anywhere in the house.

    This thought brings a rush of others. First among them is the reminder

    from his mother this morning, that things will be different for him now.

    He was too shy to speak of it, but he knows what she meant. As long as he

    can remember, he's been hearing about the changes... new laws, new

    government initiatives, of America struggling to regain the moral greatness

    of its past. The growing power of the Department of Homeland Morality, the

    Moral Purity Act, the Sexual Richness Doctrine... His small group of close

    friends at school hadn't been affected much by these changes, but he knew

    of many kids who's families fully supported the new measures. Maybe a

    quarter of the students in his year had been fitted with the Moral Purity

    Assistant implants, and several others had parents who followed DHM

    guidelines for sexual development of their children. It was even becoming

    quite common to encounter naked people in public - mostly students at

    school, but also adults sometimes.

    A most vivid memory appears in his mind. Christine Adams, a very pretty

    16 year old in the form below his, had turned up naked at school for a

    whole week recently. He'd heard her parents had repeatedly caught her

    masturbating, had her fitted with an MPA, then taken out a public nudity

    order for her. To top it off, every time he'd seen her at school, she'd

    been clearly very aroused. The rumor was that her parents had set her MPA

    to keep her that way, aroused and completely unable to cum, as part of the

    lesson.

    There'd been a lot of tented school trousers that week, including his.

    Two boys from her class had been caught masturbating in the school toilets,

    fitted with MPAs by order of the DHM, and been given six month nudity

    orders.

    Standing here naked in his livingroom, his own cock springs to rigid

    attention solely from the memory of Christine naked. Really aching

    hardness. It's not a large living room, and sometime in the far past

    someone had decided to mirror a section of the wall. He looks up now,

    seeing himself standing naked and erect. Standing there by the pile of

    boxes he sees an average build young man, five foot eight, distinctly nerdy

    looking face. One secret he's kept from everyone is his above average

    sized penis. It's slightly over 7.5 inches erect, uncircumcised, with a

    thick straight shaft and unusually large glans. When fully erect like now,

    it stands out around forty five degrees above horizontal from his body.

    His hair is light brown, straight, and his pubic hair is similar - light

    brown, not very thick, a little curly.

    He'd hit puberty a bit early, discovering masturbation at 11. For

    several years he'd done it fairly intermittently, due to all the things

    he'd heard about 'autonomous masturbation' being such an evil betrayal of

    national ideals. Then around the time he'd turned 15 he seemed to have a

    hormonal growth surge, and started becoming horny nearly all the time.

    Since he'd had the house to himself mostly, and even when his mother was

    home she never came into his room without warning, he'd given up on

    resisting and acquired the habit of doing it two, three, sometimes four

    times a day. After seeing Christine naked and puffy and squirmy, often

    even more.

    Except for the last.... thinking back, he's startled to realise it's

    been four days since he last stroked one out. He's been feeling too sad

    and nervous, too busy packing, too tired at night. Now, with his cock

    sprung in seconds to full throbbing hardness, he realises how horny he is.

    Four days! He can't recall having gone that long without, anytime in

    recent years. All of a sudden he's conscious of feeling very full indeed,

    somewhere down there in his lowest abdomen.

    Well, he's got plenty of time. Nearly two hours. It feels like he'll

    need to do it more than once, but still no problem. Perhaps even... and a

    darker, deeper erotic thought raises his pulse rate sharply, till it's

    pounding in his ears. What his mother was talking about, and Christine's

    condition, and those boys that had been caught masturbating... It had all

    been an abstract concept to him till recently, but now it looks like it

    will become very real. The core of the new sexual ideology, the whole

    point of the DHM, MPAs, and all the rest... that only adult, married males

    ever have control of their own sexual relief, and even then only via their

    spouse. That EVERYONE else, must be absolutely dependent on some other

    person, for all their sexual needs. That they must accept the will of

    another as the absolute ruler of every aspect of their sexual life. In the

    case of legal minors, like himself, there will be one or more official

    'moral guardians', with total, backed-by-law control of his sexuality. He

    understands the reasoning, why this is a necessary remedy for the excesses

    of selfish egoism that had produced the times of Troubles and nearly

    destroyed the nation. But the practical implications, for him with new

    guardians...

    Those will be the husband and wife he's going to live with, starting

    today. Then later his mom's sister and her husband. His mom was

    officially his moral guardian up till now, but she left him alone to do as

    he pleased. Lately he's been hearing of cases in the news, where parents

    got into real trouble with the law for leaving their kid's sexual

    development to chance. He'd wondered if it would ever affect him. He

    still doesn't know where the Friths stand on this. But he'll surely find

    out.

    'Sexual development'... his blood pounds harder in his ears. He's read

    the DHM brochures. For boys this means directly supervised 'ejaculatory

    exercises', at intervals actually set by legislation, varying by age group!

    For him at 17, it's maximum two per week, minimum one a month! Within that

    range, totally the choice of his moral guardians. He can't imagine how

    he'd feel after a month without cuming. The DHM policy manual actually

    says the intention is to make boys as horny as possible, while allowing

    adequate seminal draining for health, in order to maximize total erection

    hours for optimal penile growth! Also to enhance seminal storage gland

    volume, by simply stretching the vesicles with the pent-up accumulation of

    copious teenage seminal production!

    The guidelines for moral guardians actually say that, and go into detail

    about the character building benefits of enduring imposed ejaculatory

    denial over extended intervals. Not to mention the detailed instructions

    on methods of enforcing such denial, while also maximising seminal

    production rate via frequent supervised non-ejaculatory arousal and

    erection exercises. Which means being teased to near orgasm, then left

    unrelieved. 'As frequently as convenient without disrupting home, social

    and educational schedules' it says! This all applying to 'baseline

    sexuality' individuals, which means those without an MPA implant. For

    those with an MPA, their entire sexual experience is software scriptable by

    their moral guardian, in ways well beyond normal human capacity.

    "Imposed ejaculatory denial"... no masturbation allowed! None, unless

    actually instructed by his moral guardian. Then there's the part about

    recommended exercises, and the strong encouragement that these be

    administered or supervised by 'any female' assigned by or including the

    moral guardian. Mothers or sisters, 'exercising' teenage boys for their

    health! He daren't even think about how that part might relate to him, and

    if that was what his mom was apologising for not doing.

    Being brought to near orgasm, then stopping... in all the years he's

    been masturbating, he's never tried that. He's thought about it a few

    times, but then once he's sliding a tight fist up and down his stiff cock,

    the pleasure and need gets the better of him and he's never able to even

    remember he wanted to try it.

    But now, standing naked and throbbing hard in his own home, for the last

    time, there's a strong fascination with the idea. It seems quite possible

    that he'll soon be finding out what it's like, and not at all by his own

    choice. Maybe he should try it now, by himself, as an experiment? The

    idea really appeals for some reason. He has to admit, the feel of his

    cock throbbing hard and needy, untouched yet demanding touch, is very

    pleasurable. Would it be even more so, if he was right on the edge?

    Yes! He's got time to experiment with that for a while, then have a

    relieving cum or two. He'll try it. But ah.... how? His bed is gone,

    all the chairs are gone, there aren't even any tissue boxes around. No

    hankerchiefs. He can't just jerk it out on the floor. The back yard is

    fairly obscured by trees and fences, but not totally. The toilet seat

    squeeks, and the lid sits badly against the cistern so it's not comfortable

    to lean back. Ah! The shower! He's feeling a bit sweaty after the hot

    bus ride back from the hospital anyway. He can wash and wank at the same

    time.

    He's so eager to start that he trots into the bathroom and steps into

    the clear glass shower cubicle without bothering to close the bathroom

    door. No one else home, doors are locked, mum certainly isn't going to turn

    up (he wishes she could), and it's giving him a thrill to walk around naked

    like this anyway. He turns the water on, adjusts it to a pleasant coolness

    for the hot day, and begins both washing and slowly wanking. His washcloth

    is packed away, but there's still a piece of soap in the holder. He

    lathers his hands up and rubs them over himself, alternating with short

    bursts of jacking his soapy right hand along his shaft in his usual manner.

    Oh! Yes, it's doing something! Each time he starts and stops, the shaft

    gets a bit more steely hard, the head more tightly swollen. It's feeling a

    lot more urgent than usual already, which must be something to do with the

    four days of bottled up spunk. He can almost feel it boiling inside,

    demanding to be let out.

    He'd long ago learned the trick of holding off orgasm by tensing the

    internal muscles as if holding back urination. When aroused, deliberately

    relaxing as if to allow piss to flow never actually releases piss but

    instead seems to allow semen to draw down from the seminal vesicles into

    the ducts leading into the prostate. That feeling, of these small tubes

    filling up with semen, plays a critical part in the initiation of

    ejaculation. It's as if the first contraction of orgasm is a direct

    response to the nerve impulses signalling filling of the seminal ducts

    within the body of the prostate. Keeping the muscles tightened applies

    outside pressure on these ducts and prevents them dilating with semen, so

    no contraction, no orgasm. The sensation of them filling is perceived

    consciously as the very start of orgasm, but it also directly triggers the

    contraction pulsations that form the actual ejaculaton process. It doesn't

    seem to be reversible - once those ducts fill, orgasm is going to begin.

    Today, determined to not cum until he's ready, he's holding things

    tightly clenched inside. After a while of this, the feeling is amazing.

    An incredibly strong urge to complete, to give his cock just a few more

    rubs, so the aching pressure inside can blast out in the ecstatic

    contractions of cumming. It's a kind of agonising torture of need and

    pleasure, yet bearable because he knows he can decide to cum at any time.

    He's wondering why he never tried this before, it's really good. Really,

    really good! Just for an experiment, he tries relaxing the tensed muscles,

    briefly. Oh! No no no... that was a mistake, he's going to....

    almost... some semen 'let down' and he's teetering right on the edge of

    orgasm. He can feel the muscles of his prostate twitching, alllllmost

    sliding into the fullblown, unstopable orgasm. Ahhhhh the feeling of

    intense fullness and urgency, it's incredible! But no... not yet. He

    quickly shuts off the hot water tap, blasting himself with cold. The

    teetering orgasm retreats ever so slightly, like he's not going to cum any

    second. But still... so close. He stops touching himself completely, the

    lingering almost orgasm is still there, still threatening to blast off any

    time.

    Urrrgh! So strong! Needs distraction! Steel-hard cock swinging in

    front of him he turns off the water, steps out of the shower, and checks

    his watch on the sink bench. 11:45am. He's still got over an hour. Good.

    Unnnh! His cock is twitching in almost-cumming spasms. The urge to grab

    it and give it one or two good strokes to send him over the edge is

    overwhelming, intense. He's read that the MPA implants can induce feelings

    described as 'the very edge of orgasm' but prevent actual orgasm, for

    indefinite lengths of time. It's almost horrifying to imagine. To feel

    this desperate, to be unable to end it, to know that it was going to

    continue till your guardian decided it was enough. He can imagine some

    guardians might not be motivated by the purest of love and concern.

    Christine for instance. Was she feeling something like this? For a week?

    Arrhhhh! That was a mistake, just thinking of the sexy girl's visibly

    swollen pussy, dripping fluid down her legs, feeling _this_ horny, nearly

    tips him over the edge. What can he do to back down a bit?

    He walks out of the room, leaving wet footprints on the polished wooden

    hall floor. He goes into his bedroom and paces about, but the room is

    completely bare and has nothing to distract him. There's only the space

    where his bed was, where he'd lain hundreds of times jerking off. The

    lighter area of the wall where his desk and PC had been, where he'd done

    his homework - and sat jerking off hundreds of times to downloaded porn.

    The now empty built-in wardrobe, where his box of porn magazines had been

    hidden behind a pile of junk. This isn't helping at all....

    Going back down the hall he's in the living room again, and the small

    pile of taped-up boxes just reminds him that soon... he'll be living with

    a family who very likely are much more active about their Moral Purity Act

    observance in their home than his mother. Bonnie is a friend of his

    mother's from way back, and she'd often come over to visit them. Sometimes

    she'd bring her kids Susan, Chad and Joshua, but he'd always found these

    visits embarassing. Susan is two years younger than him, and thinks he's a

    dork, always managing to sound superior despite her younger age. It's been

    particularly difficult in the last few years as she really filled out. Now

    she's 15 to his 17, a genuine sex-bomb, and she knows it. He can barely

    manage to mutter a few semi-coherent words when she's around, and the

    delight she takes in teasing and tongue-tying him with her nubile body is

    positively diabolical. Chad and Joshua are 11 and 9, and seem to play

    tag-team backup for their sister's teasing of Paul.

    Thinking of them is having a mixed effect. Any time he concentrates on

    Susan, his cock seems to teeter close to spontaneously spurting. Thinking

    of the boys, and having to live with their sniping... yes, that works. He

    concentrates on all the times they've been annoying and it works.

    Gradually his cock feels less like an explosion about to happen. Not any

    softer, just the dangerous brink-of-cumming twitching inside fades away,

    and the feeling of backed-up semen demanding to spurt reduces to a less

    trigger-happy level.

    Yeah, it's really a very... sexy feeling. He should try this more

    often. For now, perhaps going back to the shower, and tease it a little

    bit more then rub out a couple of good ones. He walks back down the hall,

    into the bathroom. Time, 12:10pm. All good. He gets back into the

    shower, re-adjusts the water temperature. Then has an idea. There's

    something he's tried here before, that has a very intense effect. This

    will certainly be his last opportunity to do it. He wonders how it will go

    with the teased urgency he's built up? Well, if it makes him come it

    doesn't matter, there's not much time left anyway. He reaches up and

    unscrews the shower rose from the metal pipe coming out of the wall.

    What's left is a metal ball joint at the end of the pipe, a foot above head

    height and pointing down about 45 degrees. The ball has a clean round hole

    through the center, with the water flowing from it. It acts like a precise

    nozzle, producing an even, solid stream of water from the hole. But this

    quickly breaks up into large globs of water, forming a kind of lumpy jet

    falling to the shower cubicle floor.

    He stands in the right spot, holds his rigid cock lightly with two

    fingers to either side of the glans, and positions it so the water stream

    impacts directly on the opening at the tip of his glans. At waist height,

    after falling several feet the water velocity is quite fast. It

    immediately forces into his urethra and fills the passage, right back to

    his prostate, expanding it out to the maximum. The stream is uneven, so it

    impacts with a shudering, bumpy series of pulses. These pressure waves

    transmit along the fluid-filled urethra and vibrate his prostate from the

    inside. In addition the water pounding directly on the head of his cock

    produces its own stimulation.

    The effect is immediate. He's done this before, but always started a

    long way from the point of orgasm. Usually this trick makes him fully

    rigid and brings him to orgasm within a few minutes, even from a soft-cock

    start. Not that he's often soft by the time he gets into the shower with

    this thought in mind. But he's tried it. This time it only takes a few

    seconds before he's gasping with closeness to orgasm again. He jerks his

    cock away from the stream, shuddering with the effort of suppressing an

    instant orgasm. He does not want to cum quite yet, but decided right now

    that when he does cum, it's going to be from this. He's done this before

    and the feeling of his spurts meeting the pulsing water head-on inside is

    awesome. The contractions are enough to force both semen and water out,

    but on every relaxation the water slams back in again, greatly intensifying

    the ejaculation sensations.

    But now his cock is twitching spasticly, small prostate contractions

    building up... it's going to... no! No, not yet! A distraction, a

    distraction... oh OK, wash his hair. It needs it... He grabs the soap

    and lathers it in his wet hair. Ah good, thinking of something else is

    working, the twitches are diminishing. But the feeling! He can't believe

    how urgently and loudly his body is demanding "Let me cum, NOW!"

    While he lathers he stands with his feet spread wide, consciously

    undulating his pelvis in long, slow fucking thrusts, letting out the

    feelings in slow sexual moans timed to the thrusts. Examining his body's

    demand, savouring it, concentrating on the intensity of the pressure inside

    him, and how much his cock screams for friction to go with the thrusts.

    How the complete absense of any contact seems to exquisitely amplify every

    other sensation.

    He's thinking of what it would be like, for a boy with very strict

    guardians who never let him cum. It's somehow very erotic to imagine

    feeling like this then just stopping with no relief. Or being forced to

    stop. He builds a little side fantasy; with himself being tormented like

    that. Playing both parts he answers his body's moaning desire aloud "No

    Paul, you mustn't come. Boy, you can moan all you like, but it won't get

    you what you want. You have to hold it. You're not allowed to cum without

    my permission." He switches back to playing himself, still thrusting in

    air. "Oooooooooohhhhhhhhh... please... it's been so long... Soooo

    fuuuulll......" For some reason he's getting a real buzz out of imagining

    seeing himself from someone else's eyes, imagining her excited by seeing

    his tortured need, his big rigid aching cock making hi..her proud and

    horny.... ordering him to prove himself, to show how he could hold it no

    matter how close his m... she teased him. He switches. "Well of course

    you're full boy! I want you full, as full as you can be! You'll have to

    get used to it won't you! We can't have you jerking yourself off when I'm

    not around. Don't forget you promised! That's MY semen in you Paul, you

    remember that now! I want you to hold it! Hold it all for me!"

    This fantasy is making his pulse pound like he's having a heart attack!

    He'd hardly started those lines when he admitted to himself that it's his

    mother he's imagining. Some kind of stronger, willful mother, mixed with

    his real, loving, dying mum. One who wasn't too timid to take her pleasure

    in controlling his sex, one who'd masturbated and sucked him since puberty

    on a strict, sparse schedule like a good mother should, showing her love

    and care by making sure he was always horny like the other boys. Now

    training him for the trials he'll face without her there to give him

    relief. And because she trusted him so much, making sure his trials would

    be as difficult as possible! The idea is at once terrifying and darkly

    arousing. Making him hold 'her' semen! He doesn't have a clue where that

    came from, but it makes him shudder with excitement. Imagine! She'd...

    she'd... make him build up as much as possible... in a real, legal sense,

    it is hers. And he did promise her. But really, he's very glad it's not

    like that, and he'll be cumming in a few moments. Still, it's fucking

    exciting to imagine. He's still rolling his hips, moaning softly as he

    tries to imagine this feeling, but with weeks... no months of

    accumulated pressure behind it.

    The soap has lathered up thickly in his hair, and he's rubbing it around

    with both hands, working the suds into his scalp. Normally he'd use

    shampoo, but the bottle has been packed away. Every now and then he uses

    pure soap, for the different feel it produces when his hair is dry. The

    jet of water is still falling to the shower floor beside him, the loud

    splattering sound fainter now his ears are full of thick lather. He

    decides to play this whole thing to the extreme. Just a few more minutes

    anyway.

    "In fact... I want as much as possible in there son! You're to

    exercise often and hard! Go right to the edge, till you feel like you'll

    explode! Frustration, Paul, frustration! Keep your cock big and rigid and

    full and horny, like a good boy who does what he's told. I want you

    busting full with semen, never cumming for months and months! I want you

    aching hard, standing up rigid and twitching with need, dripping with

    pre-cum day and night, so all the girls and boys know how proud I am of

    you."

    Ooohhhhhh. The nastyness of the thought is setting him on fire. Having

    to tease himself over and over, being erect all the time with no way to

    hide it... Can he stand another go with the jet right now, before rinsing?

    Let's see.... He takes one soapy lathered hand and grabs his rigid cock.

    It seems harder than it has ever been, like a piece of stone. It will bend

    at the base, but that's all. He strokes it a few times. "Ahhhhhhhhhh

    oohhhhhh yeahhhhhhhh sooooo close! Ohhhhhhhh!" Then he stops, and takes

    the head in the two fingered grip again. With his eyes closed against the

    soap foam all over his head and face he can't see the stream, but can hear

    and feel it. He centers his glans under the stream, allowing the jet to

    pound inside him again. "AHHHHHHHhhhoooohhh! OH OHHHH GOD... DAMNN....

    AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" He keeps it there. This time the feeling isn't so novel,

    and the combination of not really minding if he does cum, plus the new game

    of pretending he absoluteley isn't allowed to cum, seem to have given him a

    stronger resistance. He can actually let the water forcefully massage his

    inermost sexual parts, and feel the hovering orgasm, but the two are only

    moving together slowly, like giant ponderous objects. There's some

    margin... even if he can barely think straight.

    "NnnnnyyyaaaaAAAAHHHHHH! OHHHhhhhhhh..." "Yes Paul! T..Take iit! That

    uhhh close enough for you? Do you want to cum? Well you can't!

    Uuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhh.... oh... I'm going to... to... OH NO you're

    not! Not while I'm still here! You hold it boy!"

    The imponderable objects were getting dangerously close, and he jerks

    his cock from the stream, letting go of it entirely. In his belly the

    pressure, the need to come feels like he might actually explode! With both

    hands back lathering his hair, his hips are thrusting with a faster

    desperation, his cock fucking air, untouched. He doesn't even try to stop

    his hips, just takes it as more of the same message of horny extremis he's

    really enjoying now. Next time, or the next, he'll let his cock cum.

    "Hey Paul, that's an amazing technique. I didn't realise Holley was

    training you so well."

    He freezes. The voice is Bonnie's, and it's right there next to him.

    The soap... he can't open his eyes... "Aww mum, it was fun watching him

    exercise his little dicky. Did you have to stop him?" His soul drains out

    through his feet. That's Susan. "It's not so little Suze!" "But she

    didn't tell him to stop." That's Chad and Joshua. He's going to go

    catonic, he thinks. Except his cock, that hasn't even taken any notice.

    It just WANTS TO COME, and there's no room for anything else.

    "Hey you guys, I'm done loading the boxes and we need to get going. Can

    you hurry it up in here? He can do some more exercises at home, if he's

    not finished his routine." Now it's Marvin Frith, Susan's dad. It sounds

    like he's over by the bathroom door.

    Bonnie: "Dear, I think we'll need to get a new shower head like that

    one. Paul, show Marvin your trick."

    Marvin: "But, there's no shower... oh, there it is. Why is the shower

    head unscrewed? Is it broken?"

    Susan: "Dad, it's for the water stream. Watch what he does. It's

    funny!"

    Bonnie: "Suze, I think he's gone all shy. You're the least dressed,

    please help him rinse the suds off then demonstrate to dad."

    Susan: "Ok mum. Oh... I guess he can rinse with just the water jet."

    She steps out of her flipflops, pulls off her tiny white tank top, unzips

    her lemon yellow microskirt and removes her matching yellow floral panties.

    Completely naked she places her clothes on the sink bench and steps into

    the shower, avoiding the water cascade. There's not a trace of hair

    anywhere on her body below her neck, but the tight, neat slit between her

    legs is belied by her very un-childlike curvy figure and the prominently

    puffed up nipples on her grapfruit sized breasts. Paul has gone completely

    non-compis, just standing there with his eyes closed under the suds, soapy

    hands in his soapy hair, and a twitching rigid erection.

    Susan steers him so his head is under the jet, and begins rinsing out

    the soap. She's quick but thorough, making sure all the soap is gone. She

    tells him to keep his eyes closed till she's done. After doing his head

    and face, she washes down the rest of his body, hands first. He's still

    standing there passively, hands at his sides and shuddering a little,

    mostly at the hips.

    When there's nothing left but some suds on his pubes and still rigid

    erection, Susan stops, considering him. "Mum, you know if he sees, uh...

    you know, it might set him off, even though he's trying so hard not to.

    Can you pass me my ...uh... that?" She points to her tank top on the

    bench. Her mum passes her the small tube of elastic material without

    comment. Susan twists it into a double loop then stretches it over Paul's

    head and lets it settle tightly as a wide blindfold.

    "There. Don't want to spoil the effect. Now, just a little more..."

    She moves Paul so the water jet is falling close by his pubes. Grasping

    his erection in her right hand she splashes water from the stream onto his

    groin, as she works her hand up and down his shaft and around his balls.

    Here she's far less efficient, with a lot more sliding of her hand up and

    down his shaft than the rinsing requires. Paul's hips shudder more firmly,

    trying to start a rocking action in time to her sliding, but she keeps

    changing her rate to prevent him synchronizing. At one point he fumblingly

    tries to grab her wrists. "S... Susan, you shouldn't... do..."

    She slaps his hands away. "Now Paul, you know mum and dad are here.

    You heard mum. So I'm in charge of you just now. Hands at your sides

    please and leave them there."

    She's now begun something that isn't even faintly related to rinsing

    him. Kneeling, she has her left hand cupped around his right bumcheek,

    fingers in his crack. Her right hand is firmly stroking up and down his

    erection, holding it nearly vertical and very close to the water stream.

    "Dad, you missed the buildup part. He was jacking himself like this,

    and we thought he was going to masturbate himself to orgasm. Such a

    naughty boy moving in with us! So we all kept quiet, to see if he'd dare.

    But when he got really close, he did this waterjet trick, and was repeating

    what Holley must have instructed him, last time she managed him before

    going into hospital. It's so sad.... She told him to keep exercising as

    hard as he can, even though he has to hold it because she's not here to let

    him cum. Poor boy, he's trying so hard."

    She strokes him slowly a little more.

    "He's nearly ready, I can feel it twitching. Mum, should I make him

    pop? You and dad are his guardians now. It doesn't seem really fair. I

    mean Holley went into hospital weeks ago, and she might... you know, no

    one knows how long. Months even. Ohhh... months..." Susan's own hips

    rock slowly, and she glances quickly at her mother. A slight shake of her

    mother's head, and Susan sighs, spreading her kneeling thighs till her

    knees are wide apart.

    Marvin cuts in. "Suze, mum and I can discuss Paul's relief schedule

    later. For now, I'd say better to honour Holley's wishes. Besides, we

    really have to go in a few minutes. If you can just show me what you

    wanted, then lets get moving."

    "OK dad. Like this. He'd get himself edged, then... this!" She

    suddenly holds his glans under the water jet, allowing it to pound into

    him. She grips him firmly by his arse and penis, so he can't move much.

    Paul throws his blindfolded head back, and moans loudly.

    "UUuuuuuuunnnnnnnnnnnhhhhhhhhhhHHHHHH! Uhhhhhhhhhnnnnnnnnnnn.... Oooooooo

    I.... I..... can't..... please..... I'll..... uuunnnnnnnnnnhhhhh...

    gonna....... gonna......"

    Susan says very sternly to him "No you're not! Don't you dare come,

    Paul Linden! If you come your mother will never forgive you! And you'll

    get such a spanking...." She pinches his bottom hard, as she keeps holding

    his cock opening in line with the water jet. "Uuuu....hhhhhh.....hhhhh

    no... hhhhh..." He's panting rapidly. "uuuuu.... uuunnnooo...

    uuuUUnnnNNNN UUNNNN... ARRHHHHH! uuuuu... uuuu...." He'd started panting

    louder, and louder, but Susan grabbed his balls and squeezed them firmly,

    as she jerked his penis away from the jet.

    Susan leans close to his ear and says softly "Paul, when you are told

    not to cum, then you are NOT. GOING. TO. CUM. Better get used to it.

    Now..." She swings his cock back under the jet. This time she has her fist

    wrapped loosely around his shaft just below the glans, while cupping his

    balls in her other hand for long moments more, as Paul whimpers and moans.

    "Oh god mummy! I can feel the water inflating and pulsing his pee hole,

    all the way down his cock! It must be really working him over inside

    there! But he's holding on! Oh mummy, sooo hot! Ooooo... I want to make

    him practice this a lot, can I mummy? Pleeeeese? ooohh... yess.... I

    can feel when he's getting close, he sort of shivers.... No Paul, uh uh

    uuhhh! You prommmmmised!" She pulls him away from the water jet, and shuts

    off the water.

    Stepping out of the shower, she presses down on the top of his glans,

    bending his cock down to below horizontal. Then lets her finger slip off.

    His cock snaps back stiffly, vibrating around it's resting position for

    several oscillations.

    "That should do for now." She looks around. "Oh, mum, I... Hey,

    there's no towels!" Before she's finished speaking, Chad and Joshua chime

    in, in singsong unison. "Mum, Susan has a stiffiiieee!"

    "Yes dears, I know she does. Ha ha... well Susan, I think you were

    about to tell me, but they did beat you to it. I won't bend rules just

    because there are no towels here. It solves the towel problem, anyway."

    Bonnie picks up her daughter's skirt and panties, bunches them, and quickly

    wipes her daughter's wet body down with them. She avoids the girl's

    crotch, where the uppermost two inches of her now much more puffy labia are

    now parted by a swollen mound down the center. The lower half of this is a

    wetly gleaming stiff pink fat-ended finger, that sticks out from under a

    cowling of taut skin covering the upper part. The thickened lower end

    presses apart the labia, resting a little more outside than inside the

    cleft. Bonnie presses a finger to either side of her daughter's labia, and

    the clit pops forward, allowing the labia to come together behind it. When

    Bonnie releases pressure the clit slips back inwards. Bonnie repeats this

    several more times, as Susan gasps softly with each wetly slick movement.

    "Ohh... Ohh.... Ohh... mum... oh...oooohhhh..." "Well Suze, if you'd

    worries less about a towel, and remembered the rules, we wouldn't have to

    be doing this. Now... boys, attend to her please. Be ready to stop when

    I tell you."

    The two boys fasten like limpets to her breasts, each of them wrapping

    their hands around a breast and squeezing it, while they take her hardened

    nipples in their mouths and suck greedily. Susan writhes, her head back,

    groaning loudly. Then even more loudly as Bonnie presses two middle

    fingers into the girl's lower slickness, slipping them deep into her

    vagina. She searches for a moment, while still teasing the girl's clit.

    "Ah, there... My! I think you must like Paul a lot huh? You're already

    all swollen in here before I even touched it. Maybe we should change its

    name from g-spot to p-spot? Tsk tsk... I'm really going to have to keep

    an eye on you now, aren't I? Genitals anyone would think were _designed_

    to make you cum just from walking, and now... a horny big-cocked older

    brother you'll have to be exercising often. Several times a day, I gather.

    Hmm... you're really getting close fast! Boys... stop now. You see how

    she's flushed right down to her shoulders? Just a little more on the

    p-spot, ha ha ha..."

    She keeps moving her fingers inside the girl, carefully now, watching

    Susan's face twist in the final stages approaching climax.

    Meanwhile Marvin had reached into the shower and guided Paul out by the

    arm. Taking the damp cloth of Susan's dress and panties from Bonnie, he'd

    given the blindfolded, sexually shell-shocked teenager a cursory rub down,

    avoiding all contact with the boy's spectacularly rigid, frustrated cock.

    He'd then placed the stunned boy with his back to a wall, made him spread

    his feet apart a couple of feet and place his hands on his head, then stood

    by keeping one eye on the teenager and another (rather more) on the

    treatment his daughter was receiving. He casually chatted to Paul, knowing

    the youth wouldn't be paying much attention judging by the tortuous

    frustrated thrusting of the boy's hips, the rigid cock stroking only air.

    "So, Holly has some spine after all! I'm a little surprised, she seemed

    such a meek one. Shows you never can tell, eh?" He's silent for a while,

    watching his wife and sons tease his daughter close to orgasm. Paul can't

    see it, but Marvin's trousers sport an impressive tent. After another

    minute, as Susan seems to be approaching her climax he gives up trying to

    ignore it. "Darn it. I can't drive like this!" He opens his fly and

    reaches in, freeing his erection from its bent discomfort. He's rather

    strangely endowed - about nine and a half inches in length, but the shaft

    is disproportionately thin, being an oddly uniform stalk around one and a

    half inches in diameter. In contrast the glans seems to have taken up the

    missing bulk, looking like a fat round purple plum on the end of a stick.

    The tip is barely pointed at all, while the thickest part is nearly three

    inches across. He's not circumcised, but with the way his foreskin has

    popped back tightly around his shaft just behind the bulbous head, it's not

    easy to tell. Until he begins to casually stroke a closed fist up and down

    the long shaft, the skin sliding easily as he watches the others.

    Then Bonnie is satisfied with Susan's state of frustration. She pulls

    her fingers from the girl, and stops squeezing her clit between the

    slippery labia. She has one last thing to do. She slips a finger tip up

    under the tight hood holding the girl's clit in a downward position. She

    gives a sharp upward tug, stretching the hood up and back towards the base

    of the trapped clit shaft. This frees the clit shaft, which is not

    actually attached to the hood, and it springs out to form a straight finger

    projecting from the apex of Susan's slit. The hood ends up bunched over

    the upper side of the clit at the root, tightly pressing on it but unable

    to exert enough leverage on the rigid stalk to pull it back down into her

    slit. Now the 15 year old girl has a very penis-like two inch projection

    sticking straight out, even with a pronounced bulb at the end.

    Marvin: "Well, NOW are we ready? Seriously, I've got to be in the

    conference call at two pm, and it's nearly one now. Come on, let's go!" He

    grabs Paul by the arm. "Come this way. Oh, ha ha.. well, I should say

    walk this way. I guess you'll be wanting to avoid cumming for a while,

    eh?" He steers the naked, cock-swaying youth out of the bathroom and down

    the hallway. "Better leave that blindfold on for a little while, till

    you're not so close. I don't suppose you see all that many cute nude

    aroused chicks, and Susan is quite something just now. Wouldn't want you

    to have an accident in the car."

    Paul is beginning to be able to function again. He stops walking. "Uh,

    Mr Frith, I uh... my clothes, they're in a box by the door. Can I just

    take this off while I get them?"

    "Oh ho ho never mind Paul, all the boxes are out in the trailer already.

    It's OK, only a short drive you know. Come along now, don't be difficult!"

    Pauls seems like he's going to argue for a moment, then shivers and

    starts walking again.

    "I guess you weren't expecting us early, eh? Still no harm done, we can

    give you a top-up session later today. I'm impressed by the way. Quite

    ingenious. I'll definitely switch our shower head to one like that so the

    girls can continue your mum's program for you. I can't wait to try it.

    Well, except I'll have Bonnie make me cum that way. Did your mum ever make

    you cum like that?"

    Paul hesitates a long moment. Too much overload! He's still

    desperately aching to come, he's about to be walked out into the front

    driveway naked and erect, and now he has to try and not go along with some

    completely wrong ideas these people have about his mother and his sexual

    practices. It's too hard to think... What should he say? He's certain of

    one thing - it can't be a good idea to admit he _was_ meaning to masturbate

    to orgasm. And that he did it a lot. He'll have to pretend that they are

    right... but that means... never mind! Answer him!

    "Uh, yes Mr Frith... she did. A few times."

    "Ha ha ha... Oh that's hot! Those horny single moms with teenage boys!

    Everybody fatasizes about them. No husband so they're not permitted to

    orgasm. But they have to exercise their sons. Taking her frustrations out

    on you, eh? I bet she came up with some pretty kinky stuff! No wonder

    she's got you on a long hard denial. I can really see her point. Having

    you promise to keep _her_ semen in you - that's brilliant! Really

    heartwarming! You'll have something to remind you of her love for you,

    every minute of the days. At least until the DHM decides you need to be

    drained for health reasons. But you needn't worry, I'm fully behind her

    idea, and I'm sure Bonnie will be too. So leave the DHM to us. I read

    semen doesn't ever really go _off_, it just kind of sets in place when it's

    packed away a long time. Might be a bit hard to keep Susan from overdoing

    it, but we know how to keep her under control. These your keys inside the

    front door? Yellow tag?"

    "Err... yes Mr Frith. Uh... there's..."

    "Watch your step here, front portch. That's OK, you've no pockets now,

    I'll take the house keys off for the agent on Monday, keep the rest for

    you. You did a good job cleaning out by the looks of it."

    Paul can hear cars passing by on the street, only a few meters away.

    Voices nearby. That's.... ohhhh... it's Mrs Tubb and her 18 year old

    daughter June, talking with Bonnie and Susan. June, a year older than him

    and no interest in being friends with him at all. June, of the frequent

    nude backyard sunbathing, who's father religiously exercised her without

    orgasm once a day in the morning from 6.30am till 7am before breakfast.

    Except on Sundays, when he'd usually exercise her several times through the

    day, then fuck her with his wife's assistance once in the evening. Usually

    she was required to orgasm then, but sometimes if her behaviour had been

    bad she wasn't permitted. Paul knew about this because June was very noisy

    when aroused, possibly because Mr Tubb would spank her if he felt she

    wasn't expressing herself adequately. The weekday exercises were always

    indoors, so Paul never saw them. But sometimes on Sundays, he'd exercise

    her out on a pool lounge. A few times he and his wife had done her

    once-a-week fuck there too. June was another long term fixture of Paul's

    masturbation fantasies. From what he'd seen she was always exercised with

    a large 'tennis ball' sized vibrator on a long handle, that was used on the

    front of her pussy and breasts but never penetrated her. For the fucking

    her mother would lay her on her back then pull her ankles back over her

    head, lifting her spread crotch straight up. Mr Tubb would then enter her

    and pound away. He seemed to have plenty of staying power, possibly

    because of cialis or something like that. But Paul had seen Mr Tubb's

    erection clearly a few times and it was probably no more than four inches,

    and not very thick either.

    He's hoping they can just get in the car and go. But Bonnie calls out.

    "Marvin dear! Bring Paul over to say goodbye to his neighbours!"

    Marvin mutters under his breath. "Time, time..." Louder: "OK dear, but

    we absolutely have to go in a minute." He guides Paul in a new direction,

    apparently walking him around the car.

    Bonnie: "Marvin, I don't think you've met the Tubbs. This is Claire,

    and June. My husband, Marvin. Ah, please excuse Paul and Susan, they've

    just been exercised rather intensely, and probably won't be much good at

    conversation for a little while."

    Claire: "Hello Marvin, pleased to meet you. Bonnie has told me good

    things about you. Mmmm..." She looks directly at his unusual erection,

    still standing from his opened fly. "Tell me, is that... how it

    originally came?s"

    Marvin: "Ha ha ha... like it? No, it was fairly normal till a few

    years ago. I was thinking of getting a piercing or something for Bonnie,

    so I asked her what she'd like. She hunted around and found a new thing

    called morphic moulding. The DHM had just approved it for public use, and

    only one company has the patent. They've put their prices ridiculously

    high since, but back then they had an introductory special so we could

    afford it. It's not like plastic surgery, there's no cutting. They have

    something that tells cells to flow a little, and they use molds and some

    weird electric stuff to reshape tissue and change nerve connections around.

    It actually makes the nerves feel more sensitive too, and they also did

    some adjustments back in wiring so it... uh behaves a little differently

    to normal. I let Bonnie write the specs, and for a while thought she might

    have gone a bit far. But I've grown to like it, ha ha ha."

    Claire is still staring at it, fascinated. "Oh? How different? If

    it's not too personal?" Marvin: "Oh well actually I'd rather not--" Bonnie,

    cutting in: "No Claire! Of course we don't mind, do we Marvin! You know

    Mr Tubb is a little on the little side, so Claire is asking from genuine

    interest. It's so great Claire! For one thing, once he's erect there's

    only one thing can make him go down except coming. Otherwise it just stays

    there! We've tested it out, and it absolutely does, for days! The longest

    we've tried so far is four days. He refuses to try for longer than that.

    Says the erection still feels nice, but the seminal urgency boy-thing gets

    to him." Marvin: "Well that's because of the--" Bonnie: "Hush dear, I'll

    get to that! There was one thing I specially asked for. If they couldn't

    do it, I didn't want any of this. It took them a while to figure out how

    to do it, and cost a bit more, but it was really worth it! I wanted his

    whole cock to feel as good for him as it always had, but instead of almost

    any stimulation done long enough being able to trigger orgasm, I wanted

    just one, specific spot able to make him blow, and no other. Can you guess

    where? Ha ha ha..." She grabs his cock in her hand and starts fondling him

    vigorously. She grips the head and massages it, runs her fist tightly in

    short up and down the shaft just behind the head. She keeps changing,

    smiling at her husband as she shows him off to the Tubbs.

    Both Marvin and Claire are breathing somewhat faster. Claire "Ah...

    only the head?" Bonnie, cheefully: "Nope! Guess again!" Claire, tilting

    her head, intrigued: "Um... the uh, frenulum? It's very sensitive, isn't

    it?" Bonnie, joyful at winning this game: "Yes it is, but NO! I didn't

    want to make it _easier_ for him to cum, silly! I wanted some _control_

    over when he cums! And so....wait, we need to see a bit more."

    She deftly undoes his belt buckle, and pushes his trousers down to his

    knees. His conservative black underwear, with nine and a half inches of

    rigid cock sticking through the front slit goes the same way after she

    undoes the two buttons at the top of the slit. With him fully exposed now

    she shifts her hand to the very base of the striking shaft of tubular rigid

    meat. Forming a simple ring with her thumb and forefinger, she strokes

    tightly up and down only about half an inch, actually pressing against his

    pubic bone almost the whole time. The effect on Marvin is striking. He

    gasps, his whole body stiffening and his hips thrust forwards. "Oh! Dear

    are you... uhhhh sure... uhhhh you know it's been.... uhhhh..."

    Bonnie: "Never mind him Claire. He's trying to say it's been three days

    since he came, and the one more thing I didn't mention is that they were

    able to permanently increase his production rate, a LOT. He makes over

    10ml a day, and I can tell you, it was pretty funny for a while. Talk

    about Mr Frantic! In less that a day! But we worked on it, and now his

    storage is up to nearly five days. Right now he's holding maybe 30 or 40

    ml. Not really uncomfortable yet, he's just starting to feel needy on top

    of his usual horny."

    Claire: "I'm not sure I... so, you don't have sex very often?"

    Bonnie: "Oh no! Every day! For as long as we like and often several

    times! Don't you get it? Look at him! He's well over nine inches long! I

    don't know about you Claire, but I can't take more than eight inches

    comfortably, absolutely nine maximium if he's pushing so hard it's really

    hurting. And he's a dear, and would never hurt me. So he can pound my

    pussy all he likes, that special spot is never going in!

    No, the only way he can cum in me, is if I rub it for him while he fucks

    me, or... I let him have a special treat, and fuck me in the arse. Either

    way, can you imagine how that huge knob feels, thrusting up and down inside

    you? It's extremely sensitive for him too, and the feeling sends him

    practically berserk after a while, especially when I haven't let him come

    for several days and he's really feeling the urgency. Isn't it brilliant!"

    Bonnie is still slightly jacking Marvin's cock-root. He's panting and

    jerking, going a bit red in the face. He again tries to get a word in:

    "Claire.... if... huuuu... if you're going to huuuu m.. make me sh...

    shooot hu... you maybe shhhh... shoould point it... huuu... away..."

    She laughs. "Yeah... ha ha I should. ha ha... It's like a firehose

    when it blows. Really, like a hose. Well, a garden hose anyway... Goes

    right across the room. You should come round sometime and I'll show you.

    Ha ha ha... Bring June and we can give her something solid to come on.

    Oh, I see she's making friends with Paul... that's cute. But I'm not

    going to make Marvin cum now. Sure June, you can touch him. But be

    careful, he was very close a few minutes ago, and it's very important he

    doesn't cum. Nice sized natural cock isn't he?"

    Claire also notices her daughter, who sometime during the conversation

    has reached between the metal rails of the fence and grasped Paul's

    erection, pulling him closer to the fence. She doesn't say anything to

    June, just looks back to Claire. "So this 'morphic moulding' - how much

    size can it add?"

    Bonnie: "Oh, I'm sorry Claire, I forgot... no, unfortunately it doesn't

    work that way. It can only move bulk around, and then only limited. Same

    tissue type to same, and so on. We were lucky; Marvin was pretty heftily

    endowed already. We just kinda stretched it out." She stops teasing him

    with her base-stroking and lets go entirely. He's left positively

    strumming with tension, his bar and ball of a cock visibly vibrating with

    rapid jerkings.

    Claire replies wistfully: "Oh well. It's probably not suitable for the

    elderly anyway. My husband is 59 you know. Not a young man any more. I

    don't mind, but we're both becoming a bit concerned for June. She's a very

    good girl mostly, and she exercises very passionately, but Mr Tubb can't

    really do justice to her relief needs
     
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