Horner Springs, The Institute Ch. 04

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With the beginning of the fall semester, signs were posted on both the Arts and Letters and Technical Institute campuses of Futter College. “Mandatory New-Student Tutorial Tuesday, 4:00 p.m. Phuxly Auditorium. Subject: The Prostate Gland, It’s health, care and maintenance.”

Justin Heityme and Willow McAllister walked across the A&L campus and saw one.

“I remember that one,” Justin commented airily, “I walked in, signed the roster, found a seat in the back row and fell asleep.”

Willow stopped in her tracks and looked up in complete astonishment and incomprehension at her next door neighbor’s live-in lover and her own occasional playmate.

“You slept through Dr. Rogers and Dr. Hart’s prostate lecture? Really?”

Justin looked hurt. “Hey, I was a priggish virgin! It didn’t have anything to do with Environmental Science so I decided it had no relevance for me and deliberately dozed off as soon as Dr. Hart began droning about the physiology of the male reproductive system.”

Willow shook her head. “You slept through the prostate intro. I can’t believe it.” She shook a forefinger under Justin’s nose. “Okay, mister, I’m gonna tell. Laurie is going to have a fit when she hears this. You are in trouble now, Justin. Believe me, you are!” And with that last rejoinder she marched off to her lecture, “Hidden Eroticism in Tang Dynasty Silk Painting”, one that was always well attended. Futter College students understood overt sexuality only too well. Subtler kinds fascinated them and Willow was a popular professor.

Justin was puzzled. He’d come a long way in the last couple of years. Graduating high school two years early put him at a disadvantage at Futter where rampant lust was presumed but legal age was required. So he’d had to double up on Human Sexuality requirements after turning eighteen in order to graduate and given the intensity of his major now needed a fifth year to finish his degree. Being in no hurry he had decided to minor in Human Sexuality and thought that he’d learned rather a lot, both from the theoretical aspect as well as the practical. Admittedly, having the department chair as his lover helped. However, he had concentrated on aspects related to Tantra and a little about BDSM so the questions that might have been answered by Drs. Rogers and Hart were never even composed, let alone asked. He wondered just how much trouble he might be in.


“He what?” Dr. Laurie Bindre was astonished.

“He told me to my face that in his freshman year, when Rogers and Hart gave their annual prostate gland tutorial he signed in, took a seat in the back of the hall and went to sleep. He doesn’t recall a blessed thing about what they said.” Willow sat in Laurie’s office holding a cup of coffee in one hand and gesturing with the other.

“Oh. Oh, dear. So he has never been . . .”

“Well, not with me. Admittedly, I’ve never been one to top a man so he couldn’t be expected to. And obviously he never has with you or you wouldn’t be so dumfounded. So I believe we can presume fairly safely that our little genius environmental engineer isn’t quite the sexual sophisticate we’ve thought he was.”

“I haven’t dommed him either, though I’m old enough to be his mother and could get away with it. This presents a problem.” Laurie twisted her mouth this way and that in thought.

Willow rolled her eyes skyward assuming an air of total innocence. “Well, we know at least one other woman would be offended by his lack of attention.”

Laurie’s eyes closed to slits and her mouth spread into a tight, unpleasant grin. “Of course. The tutorial is mandatory. He functionally ditched it even though he was in the same room. Betsy Rogers isn’t going to like this one bit. She and Cody put a lot of effort into it and to have one little sixteen-year-old snip decide it had no relevance for him and deliberately sleep through it is an insult. Yes, let her give him a remedial—pass/fail. And he’d better pass!”


Justin looked at the email message. It rather starkly ordered him to report to the Human Sexuality Lab at 1:00 p.m. today for a remedial tutorial on the human prostate with Dr. Elizabeth Rogers. Good hygiene and punctuality were expected. He checked the time. Okaaaaay, he had time to shower, change and arrive promptly if he started now so turning off the laptop he headed for the shower. Again he wondered just how much trouble he might be in. For some reason three rather important women at Futter College were not happy with him. And all he’d done was take a nap three years ago! Somehow the response seemed a bit excessive.

At 5’7″ and 135 wiry pounds, Justin looked like what he was, a natural and skilled horseman. Trained on English saddle from dressage to hunting, he’d ridden to the hounds for fox in Massachusetts and Maryland and for wild boar in California. Coming to Horner Springs it had taken him two years and falling in love with Laurie Bindre before Western saddle riding had caught his fancy and now he was equally good at both. But tough though canlı bahis he was Justin was still small and slight in appearance.

Elizabeth Rogers was not. At 6’2″ she was the tallest woman on the faculty, a spare, big-boned Valkyrie of a woman. Meeting her in the HS Lab was going to be intimidating, Justin thought as he walked through the double doors.

Every Futter College graduate had fond memories of the Human Sexuality Lab. Justin had lost his virginity there; a matter, he mused, of some distinction. Most who applied to Futter knew full what a hotbed of sex the place was and were experienced before they arrived. Justin was not and for the first two years he attended that ignorance was bliss. Then came his first class in human sexuality—Introduction to Bondage! At first he’d been overwhelmed and fumbling. But by the end of the semester he’d become a skilled sexual enthusiast and since then the HR Lab was among his favorite places on the Arts and Letters campus. Now, directed by the email he walked down its familiar hall to Rm 105 and opened the door. Like the others it was essentially a comfortable, romantic bedroom albeit one with a number of exotic features involving wall hooks, a block and tackle with sling and very capacious night stands. This time the exotic accessories included Betsy Rogers sitting with her back to the headboard and the covers pulled up to her lap. Naturally, she was naked.

She was also smiling. “Justin, I can’t believe that a normal teenaged boy would deliberately go to sleep in a tutorial related to sex. What were you thinking?”

Justin replied sheepishly, “Well, like I told Willow, I was a priggish virgin obsessed with saving the world. I guess I figured that sex was one of those things other people could take care of while people like me did the ‘important’ stuff. And I didn’t go back and take it again later because I’d read that Western medicine doesn’t consider prostate massage therapeutic anymore. And if it is, isn’t it mostly for older men?”

She laughed. “Yes, that is the prevailing opinion in the AMA. However, there are a number of us who disagree. And it’s just as important for younger men as a preventative. There seems to be good evidence (from other countries) that regular prostate massage is helpful in preventing cancer. But more importantly, from the Horner Springs viewpoint, is that it is vastly pleasurable. Now, get out of those clothes and come to bed.” As she said it, she shimmied, making firm but modest breasts bounce enticingly back and forth. And she winked.

As Justin undressed, Betsy tossed back the covers and reached sideways into the open nightstand. She pulled out a pair of Nitrile gloves and a tube of KY jelly and then got up on her knees.

“I want you to lie down face first, Justin. We’ll dispense with the textbook material tonight and just get to the practicum.”

“You know,” Justin replied as he unbuttoned his shirt, “I just turned twenty. I’ve never been to a urologist or even had a prostate exam.”

“Ninety-nine percent of urologists deliberately don’t make an exam enjoyable and the ones who do only do so for their husbands. We feel that any man’s partner should do this. It’s both good for him and pleasurable. Laurie would not only make you happy, she might extend your life. Now come on down here.”

More than a little nervous, Justin lay face down on the bed beside Dr. Rogers. She began with long, gentle strokes up and down his back, relaxing and soothing him. She leaned down and kissed his neck, ruffled his hair and whispered ‘sweet nothings’ to him. Eventually she shifted her concentration from his neck and shoulders down to his buttocks, kneading and massaging them.

Finally, Justin heard the snap of the gloves as she put them on her hand and the pop of the KY jelly tube opening. Once again the hands returned to his butt and this time they began running up and down the cleft of his ass. With one hand Betsy spread his buttocks and with the other touched a glob of KY on his anus and began to rub it up and down and around. The sensation was delicious and he moaned softly with pleasure.

“Like that, do you? That’s only the beginning, Justin. It gets better!”

Once again recharging her finger with jelly, Betsy rimmed Justin’s ass and then eased a finger inside. Reaching in and down she found his prostate gland and began gently circling it with her finger.

“Oh, gawd!”

“See? If you’d come when you were supposed to, some hot little freshmen girl would have been doing this to you within an hour or so. Now, if one finger feels good, let’s try two.”

She did. And rotated them around and spread them stretching his sphincters. Soon it was three fingers. By now Justin was whimpering softly and moaning constantly.

“I think you’re ready now, Justin,” Betsy whispered and reaching once again into the drawer pulled out a FeeldoeTM and slipped it inside him. Again he moaned. “And now for the best part, darling,” Betsy crooned, “The other end goes inside me.” She straddled his bahis siteleri thighs, popped the bulb end into her sex and leaned forward with her hands on Justin’s shoulder blades.

“Uh?” Justin’s voice held a note of anxiety.

“Relax, honey,” Betsy purred with a leer, “Now I’m going to not only ‘massage your prostate’, I’m going to fuck you blue.” With well-practiced back muscles, she thrust the dildo deep inside him, withdrew and thrust again, forcing moan after moan out of the younger man. After some minutes, she leaned down and as she thrust and withdrew, rubbed her nipples across his shoulder blades. Soon Justin was lost in a haze of sensation. Nothing in his experience could have prepared him for the waves of pleasure that washed over his body and brain.

He heard Betsy on his back start to pant, to drive herself to orgasm. Finally, she squeaked and began to shudder uncontrollably and when she was spent, pulled out.

“Roll over, Justin,” she ordered, “and lift those legs. It’s Laurie’s turn.”

It was. While Betsy had been pegging him, Laurie had quietly slipped into the room, stripped and donned another FeeldoeTM just like the one Betsy had driven inside him. Now she pushed his legs back and shoved it up his ass. Grabbing his cock, she stroked him as she thrust until with a groan he emptied himself up onto his belly.

Too exhausted to move, Justin lay starring at the ceiling as both women slid up on either side of him and laid their heads on his chest. “Now, young man,” Dr. Rogers said with mock severity, “let’s have no more undergraduate decisions about what part of your curriculum is necessary and what isn’t. Though we recommend once a month, your darling Laurie will be the one to decide how often you need ‘treatment’ and there won’t be any arguments, will there?”

Still panting from the experience and slack-jawed, Justin shook his slowly. “Uh-uh!”


One Saturday morning in late October four women, two small children and Justin stood on the tarmac of Horner Field waving at the Gulfstream business jet. It was taking Jacob McAllister and his two clients to Kalispell, Montana for a week’s elk hunting. Akash Patel and Imran Doss had fallen hard for the American high plains and selling off their stakes in the giant IT firm they’d founded, were now permanent residents at the cattle ranches they’d purchased. They’d looked around and discovered Jake’s expertise in Range Management and had hired him to bring their property up to snuff. Black turtlenecks and designer jeans had given way to real working Western wear and an eagerness to involve themselves in all things cowboy. So, on Jake’s recommendation, they’d purchased a pair of custom rifles in .338/06 and were off to his sister and brother-in-law’s ranch for a week long hunt.

Justin had been left with the task of giving Jake’s lectures and of caring for three wives and his own lover while the men were off trying to garner the winter’s meat. It was a daunting prospect. At least it wouldn’t mean spending any time in the Indian ladies’ beds. India, after all, was well-known to be a very socially-conservative country . . .

The first clue that things might not go as expected came when Abed Doss turned to Laurie Bindre and said in her lilting accent, “The men are trying very hard to blend into the community here but are hesitant to dive in to all the local customs. Have you any recommendations that could help them?”

Justin almost drove the big Suburban off the road when Laurie answered, “Well, you might start with each other. Have you considered swapping husbands some night?”

Raji Patel laughed. “When we first moved into the original ranches it wouldn’t have been very practical but now that our new homes sit side by side on the boundary that would be worth a try. We could even sneak across without their knowing until they climbed into bed. What do you think, Abed?”

Abed giggled. “That might work with Akash but Imran would probably have a heart attack if he climbed in bed in the dark and found out he was lying next to you. No, it would be better if we just poured them a couple of bourbon doubles and then proposed it outright. Imran will cough and stammer but if Akash, you and I are all good with it he’ll agree. However, you might have to take charge the first time. Really, he’s the more inhibited of the two.”

Keeping his eyes locked on the pavement ahead and his mouth clamped shut Justin drove down the country road. It was like being a fly on the wall. None of the others were paying him any more heed as they talked than they were to the toddlers in the car seats. The difference was that he knew what they were talking about. Two and three-year-olds didn’t.

“That’s a good idea, Abed,” Raji mused, “We pour them a couple of strong drinks, let them get a little buzzed and then make the proposition. As Imran stammers, I’ll sit on his lap, nuzzle his neck and let him gaze down my cleavage. That ought to spark his interest.”

It certainly sparked Justin’s. Raji was built like bahis şirketleri the apsaras of mythology, her breasts almost impossibly firm and high given their mass. He imagined them swaying forward and back as she rode him. He swallowed and tried to concentrate on the landscape.

Things would probably have gone well for him except that Willow noticed his ears turning red and began to giggle. “And should you be interested in such things,” she managed to say, “I’m sure our Justin would be happy to lead an extension class in Tantric technique. He got the highest score ever recorded in Laurie’s introduction to it. He did so well that as a prize, he won the professor!”

“He did indeed,” Laurie joined in with a leer, “Despite my efforts to steer him in the direction of someone more age-appropriate he insisted on stealing my heart and moving in with me. As Willow said, he’s very good.”

The SUV rocked with the women’s laughter and Justin turned redder than ever. He kept trying to come up with something to say that either didn’t announce that he was ready to play (which he definitely was not!) or sounded like the priggish sixteen-year-old he’d been three years ago. So trying to stay on the safe side, he said nothing.

It didn’t help.

“Now, look, poor Justin’s turning all red. What’s the matter, baby,” Willow crooned, “are we teasing you? Is Justin finding himself objectified, an item of desire the way we usually are? Don’t you find the desire of women desirable?”

That did it. Justin pulled the Suburban onto the shoulder, killed the engine and turned around now red more with anger than embarrassment. “Now look, I may be the third youngest person in the car but I am an adult and I am not a pet. If this is an example of ‘girl talk’ kindly leave me out of it. You are all consenting adults and what you do is your own business but my responsibilities during this week consist solely of giving Jake’s lectures. No one said anything more than that and I am not volunteering. Are we all clear on this?”

Laurie ran her fingers through his hair soothingly with a chuckle. “Yes, dear, we are and yes, we have been teasing you. Now start the car and take the ladies home so we can pick up my jeep and head back to the ‘ranch’. And Willow apologizes for being mean to you, doesn’t she?”

Willow, with a pointedly straight face, nodded though any reasonably astute observer could see that she didn’t mean any part of it. Justin, though, didn’t qualify as reasonably astute when it came to reading other people’s facial expressions so he accepted the nod, turned the key and headed back to the paired ranch houses.

Some of Justin’s family were aghast that he not only decided to go to school in the Wild West but that he intended to remain there. His uncle Avery, however, who had moved to San Luis Obispo, California and who rode to the hounds after wild boar, fully approved. To show his favor, he sent periodic packages containing prosciutto d’cinghiale, dry-cured wild boar ham, and it was slices of that Laurie, Willow and Justin slapped on home-baked rolls covered in garlic aioli and had for lunch. Once full, Laurie stood up.

“I’m spending the rest of the weekend with Debbie Witherspoon,” she announced picking up an overnight bag, “She reminded me that it’s been just months since I dabbled in lesbian sex and told me that her Anthony will be away at a conference. So I’m leaving you two to your own naughtiness. See you Sunday evening.”

And with that and a lascivious wink, she pulled on her shearling coat and Stetson and breezed out the door. Justin sat there with his mouth open in surprise.

“Left to our own naughtiness, are we?” Willow remarked with a grin, “And I’ll bet my favorite fuck buddy is still mad at me, isn’t he?”

“I’m not mad. I just didn’t like being . . .”

“You, Justin Heityme, were angry and upset and you still aren’t totally happy. Don’t deny it, I’m an experienced woman and I can tell. So I’m going to make it up to you. We’ll go down in the basement and you can punish me properly. A full body workout with the light-medium flogger should make you feel a lot better. Then you can use me good and hard. Come on, I know you want to. You’re the one who likes it. Jake just does it because I want him to but you think it’s fun.”

That last, Justin had to admit, was true. Unlike her husband who only spanked her because she enjoyed it, the younger man actually got a certain amount of excitement and pleasure listening to Willow squeal, protest and cry. He didn’t know why and was sure that it was only true when they deliberately planned a scene but the crack of a riding crop, flogger or the flat of his hand on her yielding flesh was a jag. And she did have it coming . . .

“You know, you’re right. I am still ticked at you for teasing me in front of the other ladies and you deserve a sound flogging for it. Laurie took delivery on a new stanchion with neck, wrist and ankle cuffs. I can strap you into it, flog you and then fuck you.”

“I know she did but save it for after the flogging, Justin. I want the whole nine yards, front and back standing in the ‘H’ frame. Then you can put me in the stanchion and sodomize me. I want you to make me squeal and complain while you bugger me.”

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