Vignette 1: Water Babes

Vignette 1: Water Babes (by Mafisto)

[Fantasy casting: David Charvet, Thomas Whalan.]

Water Babes

The manor I bought when I cashed in my stock options had a gym-sized swimming pool. I hired two students to help me move to the new place what little I had in my one-bedroom apartment. It was the pool that impressed them the most, although they consistently rejected all my offers to try it out after they were finished. What a shame! I would have loved to see more of either Thomas, with his freckled, pixyish face, or David, whose eyebrows, forearms and thighs were lightly covered with the same fluffy chestnut hair he had in abundance on his head. As I surveyed the halls and rooms where my furniture was sparsely scattered, I discovered a trapdoor under an old rug. There was a small compartment underneath, within which I found three bottles of wine, a corkscrew and two glasses. I also found a diary, which I skimmed; it was mostly fantasies in which the owner, a rich, lonely old man who died last year, took control of the delivery boys, newspaper boys, and repairmen who visited him, using an enchanted wine he had bought a long time ago. I took the glasses, the corkscrew and one of the bottles downstairs and offered some supposedly enchanted wine to David and Thomas as a reward for their work well done.

“Thanks,” said David, looking at the bottle. He wore a light blue T-shirt and loose dark blue nylon shorts. “Wow! 1941! This is worth a fortune! You don’t want to sell it instead?”

“Too late,” I said. “It’s open. It’d be a shame to spoil it now.” I went to the kitchen to hunt in my boxes for another glass, urging them not to wait. It took me at least five minutes. When I came back, I found the two of them staring vaguely into space, their arms limp, their empty glasses hanging loosely from their hands. Was the wine really enchanted?

“Excellent wine,” said Thomas. His black pullover and beige khakis were stained with dark purple drops. I remembered reading in the diary what the old man always said to the men who had just drunk the wine, and I tested it:

“The wine has opened a part of your mind which longs to submit to me, to obey me. As a sign of submission, I want you to bare your chests for me, then tell me you’re mine.” It startled David, who glared at me, furious. “What is this shit? You think you’ll get us drunk with one glass? Fuck, I…” He watched with amazement as Thomas peeled off his pullover shirt and told me “I am yours”, his smooth, thin chest glistening with sweat. David’s reluctance melted away and he too took off his T-shirt. His chest was more muscular than Thomas’, and hairless except around and below his navel. His “I am yours” sounded like a final admission of defeat.

I turned around them, examining their bodies. I pulled down David’s shorts; he grunted at first, but didn’t stop me. He wore well-packed black jockeys. I stripped Thomas from his khakis as well. As soon as I took a glance at his classic white briefs, I got a full hard-on. I had two men under my control, in black and white jockeys — one of my favorite fantasies. Only one thing missing. “Go take a few laps in the pool,” I asked. They ran to the pool and dove in, eager to obey my orders. When they came out again, dripping and sexy in their clinging underwear, Thomas’ long, thin cock was half-visible through the wet fabric. I asked him to lie down on the wooden patio, relax and let himself grow aroused by watching what I’d do with David. “Sure,” he said.

“David,” I said, squeezing his cock and balls in the wet fabric of his jockeys, “You know that if I suck your cock it will drive you wild with pleasure, and you want it bad.”

“Why would it…? Yes, sir, fuck…” He slid his jockeys down to his ankles, and exposed his bush and thick cut cock, getting stiffer and stiffer. “Please suck it. It’ll be fantastic.” I sucked David’s cock, and glanced at Thomas watching us intently, one hand rubbing his chest, the other jerking off in his jockeys. When I grew bored of David’s moans, I motioned for Thomas to come near. I tore off his briefs, stroked his long erect cock a bit, then told the two naked movers before me: “The water in the pool will make your bodies extremely sensitive to arousal. A simple rub will send jolts of delight to your brains. But remember: no cumming in the pool. Now, let’s have an orgy in there.” They dove in, and I pulled off my clothes in five seconds and followed. They made it very hard for me not to violate my own rule of not cumming in the pool, especially once Thomas put my cock in his mouth. The things he did with it! What a waste for him to be straight! David was also helpful: a great kisser, and a patient bottom.

As the diary predicted, they didn’t remember anything of what they did while under my control, although Thomas probably still wonders how and where he lost his briefs!

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