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  • Timestopper Begins Ch. 25

Timestopper Begins Ch. 25

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Chapter 25 -- The Fellowship of the Rings

I saw her: a particular dark haired girl with a round face seen at a sandwich shop. A girl with legs clad in black nylon under a dark blue skirt belted at the waist. A girl in high heels talking with a friend. A girl whose little white bra, all lacy and feminine I could more than imagine.

Indeed a girl with very fine little dark hairs under her tummy button and lovely perky upturned nipples set in brown areolae and with her right nipple pierced by a gold ring. I could not see all this at that sandwich shop but had seen it all before - yes, standing there was the girl I had first met outside my house when time had stopped and seemingly there was no way of starting it once more. The mannequin girl. The girl I had undressed in her flat and so enjoyed spraying her chest and tummy with my semen as if marking my territory; something I had done long before I had lost any scruple about actually fucking. I had not gone back to her flat on another day as planned: so much else had happened and I had left her alone. But there she was - right there. A girl not yet properly penetrated by me - that needed to change.

The nipple ring had not been forgotten by me. It seemed such an odd thing to have. I have said it before but it was not a really a useful place to hang anything -- even keys. Why the single ring? What sort of whim had that been? Was it a boyfriend's request or her own idea? I had meant to keep an eye on her and find out. I had let that task slip. TMP seemed to have let a lot of things slip. Perhaps my addiction to breast milk - well not addiction - though, you see, I seemed now to have two supplies (or four if you counted the breasts!) and was very happy taking advantage of both Cindy and now Dharini.

The idea of hanging something from that nipple ring really got to me. Amusing to imagine her undressing for the night and finding a miniature Coca-Cola bottle or a lucky charm swinging from the ring. She fingering, then unclipping it and looking at in in puzzlement. What a wheeze - particularly if I was there to see it. I could have a lot of fun with a different charm every night! Imagine one night it is an erect phallus swinging from her nipple. She fingers it and suddenly I am there completely naked and erect before her, "You summoned me, o mistress, what is your desire?" Her eyes wide with astonishment. Perhaps particularly if I had taken the trouble to paint my knob silver to match the charm!

I was tempted to take her there and then - in the sandwich shop with everyone around. I was hard enough, I had the wherewithal, just the thought had been enough to cause the blood to pump into my penis lengthening and thickening it ready for 'the task'. Easy enough to stop time and feel under the skirt; easy enough to slide down the black nylon and the panties and lean her against a table ready for intercourse. Probably no real need to remove the nylon and panties from her ankles but instead step right over them and between her legs and push in before I had even unbuttoned her blouse. Perhaps I might have had to borrow a little French Dressing or just olive oil from the shop to ease the entrance or possibly mayonnaise - if I wanted to make her surprisingly messy!

You can imagine the aftermath for the girl, once time had restarted, of her suddenly feeling damp - no gooey even - from my ejaculate. You can imagine the sudden feeling of stickiness between those large flappy nether lips she possessed and not knowing what had happened, what that feeling was in her panties. But how much more so would the feeling be if the stickiness was not just me and a little olive oil but me and mayonnaise! Such a mess in her panties - but tasty!

I was tempted, but would rather play the game with her in more private surroundings - perhaps at her flat again. She noticed me looking at her and I nodded as if in recognition. She nodded back but none the wiser, no doubt, who I was. No idea, of course, that the man she had just seen looking at her, the man who seemed to know her, had just decided, at that moment, to get inside her panties in a very intimate and rude way, completely without her permission. Indeed already knew things about her of a very intimate sort.

You can perhaps imagine my surprise a few days later at what I found when I took off those very same panties... but I get ahead of myself.

I knew where the mannequin girl lived, had been to her flat before and it was not very difficult for me to gain admission - not when I had already 'borrowed' her key and had a copy made. Such an easy thing to do when I had seen her sit on the grass in the square to eat her sandwiches. An out of time rifle through her handbag and a visit to the key bar sorted that out whilst she sat there in the sunshine.

Friday night I visited the flat and clearly something was 'up.' The girl was in a pretty dress and the table was set for dinner for two. Somebody was clearly coming around for supper. It rather looked like all was set for romance rather than simply a friend. Nice to see her dressed so well though I thought I might play the sort of game my little sister used to play with her 'Tressy' doll. You know dressing and undressing her. Of course my mannequin would have the sort of detail Tressy lacked. Tressy's bosom was rounded enough but sadly lacking in the nipple department and no furry bush or camel toe. Not quite asexual but definitely rather lacking - I always thought!

A nice orange dress with straps and, to me, pleasingly loose fitting. It took just a lifting of the straps and a little slipping of them over her shoulders and down her arms and off came the dress leaving my little mannequin in just bra and panties - or would have done had she been wearing any! That was quick work!

And there before me once more was the nipple ring to her right breast - no additional piercing to the left I was quite pleased to see. Just the one nipple ring. But when my hand dipped down below - as it is wont to do - I touched and indeed heard more. Heard? Yes, the 'clink' of metal. Had something happened in the months since I had seen her last?

Something had indeed happened! There I was on my knees before this time frozen girl, right at eye level with her trimmed dark curly bush and peering between her thighs - as, again, I am wont to do. What I could see were not simply rings but hanging tiny gold padlocks - yes not just the one!

This required more examination. Just like a mannequin I carried the girl into the bedroom and laid her on the bed. There is something decidedly erotic about opening a girl's legs, something decidedly erotic about doing that without permission. Nice enough I accept, yes, erotic enough, to do it with permission or for the girl to open them herself and reveal her charms: but to be able to do it with the girl helpless - perhaps bound - perhaps being prepared for non consensual intercourse is...well, very naughty! A happier scene perhaps if that is just play acting with the girl pretending this it was non-consensual but, of course, there could be no question that permission had been given in my case -- it had not -- but the mannequin girl knew nothing about my inspection!

What a remarkable sight - yes, of course, the pudenda has an irresistible attraction for most men, the soft, moist flesh and that delightful, perhaps a little hidden, hole they just want to sink their penises into and release their manly fluid. And, of course, that was just what I was not going to be able to do. Since last inspected my mannequin had visited a man - or perhaps a woman - with a sharp needle. It made my eyes water to think of it but there displayed was the evidence. Her labia minora, her lovely long labia minora was pierced in several places and through the man made holes were threaded gold rings, several to each, and, moreover, the pairs of rings were joined by the little golden padlocks, three in all, I had already mentioned.

I touched, I probed, I carried out a careful inspection. There was no way my penis - firm as it was in my trousers - could slip past 'security' and enter the 'delightful hole' I mentioned. Without a key to the padlocks the way was firmly barred!

It had not been my intention at that point of the evening to engage in actual intercourse - I had been interested to await developments - but the sight and thought of this girl being locked away inflamed my desire. But whilst I could get a finger between and into her passage, it was simply not possible for a more substantial thing to pass. Of course I hunted for the key. It - or they - were not on the chain around her neck; it was not in her handbag; it was not in her bedside cabinet; it was not hanging up by the front door - it was in none of the obvious places. Surely she had not given up the key to the putative boyfriend?

That, though, raised the question of whether he was similarly locked up. Did the mannequin girl have the key to his penis? And how could such a thing be done?

I rather liked the idea of borrowing the key as soon as he arrived, undoing the locks and having my way with her before joining the rings again leaving my semen locked away or perhaps seeping between the lips. He finding an unexpected creaminess appearing around the rings as if, apparently impossible, somehow a man has got there before him and penetrated his personal possession. The idea of a woman belonging to a man is unexpected, even abhorrent, to our modern Western culture but a woman who gives up egress to her sex and hands the key to her man cannot really be said to have done other than relinquished possession!

Perhaps if she has similar possession of the man that is different. But how could she?

Tempting to strip and play naked with her on the bed even if I could not fully engage with her but it seemed better to control myself and await developments. I carried her back to the kitchen and like the mannequin I dressed her again in her orange dress before hiding myself away.

He seemed a nice enough sort of chap and I let themselves settle down with a glass of wine before I bothered to stop time and begin my inspection. Undoing a bloke's fly is not my usual time stop activity. From my history to date you will appreciate I am no stranger to male genitalia. How could I not be when I have found the girls are at their most pliable, most deliciously lubricated, when engaged in sex. Not just with Carson and Cindy have I found it necessary handle and even extract rigid members from girls before replacing them with my own. I am not squeamish about such things and can appreciate the rugged beauty of a well erected penis! I just prefer the soft contours and damp places of a pretty girl and whilst there is probably some pleasure in bouncing - perhaps juggling - a fine pair of balls in the hand it can be nothing to the feel of a firm, and sizeable, pair of boobs.

Nonetheless, as they sat side by side on the sofa I was rifling through his pockets and pulling his zip down. To add decoration to the scene I had raised the orange dress to the girl's waist and so had a very fine view of her dark bush and between her partly opened thighs not just the glimpse of more tight curls and soft pinkness but the gleam of gold!

I found the key! But as I delved inside his fly I felt not just the soft sausage shape but more metal. This was going to be intriguing. A pull and out into the open came the boyfriend's penis. Not yet erected. I was sure that would come later.

And there was the metal. I was dumbstruck - well, that's not true, I said 'fuck me!' right out loud I think.

I had heard of the 'Prince Albert' but had never seen... Yet there - up close and remarkably personal - was a possibly first rate example.

Male nipples can of course be pierced just like a woman's but there are also a wide variety of scrotal and penile piercings that can be done. I have since made my researches. The Prince Albert is I suppose the obvious one but it is quite extreme. Personally I do not fancy a needle making a hole between my urethra and the outside world somewhere around the base of my knob: but, still, it takes all sorts - and my mannequin's boyfriend was clearly one of them! Nonetheless that seems to be what is done and then a ring is threaded through the new hole and up and out through the more usual exit (subject to healing and all that). The obvious question is with having two holes rather than the traditional one doesn't that result in both urine and semen coming out of both (either one liquid or the other of course...).

The answer seems to be this does tend to happen particularly if the jewellery is not in place at the time (perhaps on the mantelpiece or somewhere else). However a twist to the penis or a strategically placed finger should mean all will be well and then you can pee standing up in traditional manly - rather than girly - fashion. Of course some men have more than one piercing through the urethra and I think the person can end up spraying a little like a watering can rose! Possibly amusing to see (shocking?) but not if you have your best suit and shoes on and are standing at the next urinal... The recommendation for the pierced is to sit down like the ladies - which raises the big question to me: why bother?

I was unsure, as I stared at what was in my hand, whether, aesthetically, a substantial curved stainless steel bar coming out of the hole at the end of your knob - yes, the meatus if you want the technicality - and curving around the aforementioned knob to disappear into the flesh of the corona looked erotic, impressive or just downright uncomfortable. And when I say substantial I mean substantial -- this was no thin gauge of stainless steel. The advantage of time stop - well there are many advantages actually - is there is no hurry. There was no need to take a quick glance. Instead there was all the 'time' in the world to look. And I did more than look, I took the penis carefully in hand and examined it. I supposed the shiny steel coming out of the meatus did have an association with the shiny pulsing of semen. Yes, I could sort of see the attraction of having your tube end permanently stretched open and perhaps there was something manly about this not insubstantial bar coming out of the knob end. Perhaps! Very peculiar to finger this ring and be able to rotate it inside his knob; though I could not rotate it completely as there was a steel ball built into the ring preventing complete movement and that would not go through either hole.

But I found the other hole, the piercing below the coruna to the side of the fraenum disturbing. I also found the idea of this ring permanently threaded most peculiar, or did until I discovered the secret of the ball - it moved. The ring was not complete. It only appeared to be so. Moving the captive ball aside enabled me to ease the ring around and out. A not insubstantial weight in the palm of my hand. Without the ring the piercing looked even more disturbing. I was certainly not heading into Croydon town centre to find someone with a sharp and seemingly rather large needle in a hurry! Difficult, too, to imagine threading the steel down into my penis and out through the hypothetical piercing. What would it feel like in my pants when out and about - snug and comfortable? I thought not.

Allegedly this 'Prince Albert' was worn by the eponymous prince in order to keep his tackle strongly to one side under his clothing to confirm with the then dress code for men. A complete reverse of the cod pieces of, say, Tudor times. However there seems no documentary evidence to support that or knowledge of whether Queen Victoria preferred to have it removed for intercourse or not. The name has however stuck.

I sat next to him turning his ring over and over in my hand as I thought. I could not but equate the ring - whether through nipple or penis - with the ring through the bull's nose. A ring inserted through the sensitive septum to control the animal - to be able to lead it by the nose so to speak - or the ring through a pig's nose to prevent it rooting. The human piercing seemed to have a similar idea of control. A chain through the ring and the man or woman would have to follow!

Slipping the ring back on - with time stop the urethra had not closed but had stayed dilated and there was no difficulty even with what was clearly a large gauge ring - it certainly held the urethra fully open! An unusual sight -- a knob with a really open mouth. This was no thin ring like the girl's nipple ring. It was certainly substantial though it would not, perhaps, look so large when the penis was tumescent - in comparison. Unlike the padlocks I did not think the Prince Albert would prevent intercourse. Possibly uncomfortable for the girl to have a metal ring pushing into her rather than the smooth domed shape of the 'unadorned' male. Not, though, the chastity device of the girl - that would certainly prevent intercourse.

To be fair I soon realised the padlocks were more symbolic and real as the rings through the girls labia minora had similar captive balls and could as easily be unthreaded as the large ring of the man. It occurred to me that threading something - perhaps an even larger ring through the Prince Albert would indeed prevent intercourse - not masturbation - but intercourse; the man unable to insert because of the objects hanging from his knob. I imagined with some amusement the idea of a quite large metal object with some weight to it, threaded through. Easy enough to carry, though hardly comfortably, when wearing underpants as the weight would rest within the sling of the cotton but what about undressed?

How uncomfortable to be walking around with a heavy weight dragging your cock towards the ground! The weight swinging as you walked and your poor cock elongated and pulled towards the floor. Perhaps it might lengthen it - does that make the idea more attractive! Perhaps the girl might like that. See her man weighed down and controlled. The weight padlocked to the Prince Albert. The girl teasing him and exciting him. Little he can do with the weight. The padlock preventing intercourse but not stopping an erection. The sight impressive to see. The poor elongated stretched penis firming and, if strong enough, actually raising the weight up like a crane at the docks lifts a cargo for a ship. The penis rising manfully dragging the weight upwards. Will it be strong enough? The girl getting so wet at the sight of the powerful penis raising so much weight upwards or, alas, does it snap under the strain - ouch!

What I needed to see next was the penis erect. Would this improve the appearance? Would I then understand why he had done this thing? I was also rather intrigued to see ejaculation occur whilst this bar was curling out of his cock. Of course if, as was more than likely, intercourse occurred it would be difficult seeing that as it would all be hidden inside the girl! Would he remove the ring first? But, again, how intriguing, albeit disturbing, seeing him perhaps ejaculate from both holes - white cream shooting in two directions!

And with all this interesting experimentation with the pierced penis and the Prince Albert, I could have a lot of fun with my mannequin. The prospect was good. I suspected though that dinner would come first - it certainly tasted good. I had only tried a bit - really.

I left them to it and went for a walk and thought. What would they do - what should I do?

Obviously I was interested to see if I could observe their sex play. See what part the metal played; see if the Prince Albert was removed; ideally observe ejaculation; see when the padlocks were undone; most certainly play with the girl herself; but was there something yet more amusing I could do?

The idea of slipping the girl's nipple ring through the Prince Albert was a thought. The idea of them getting tangled up rather fun! Amusing to see them locked together. I mused on the image of people tangled. I imagined the girl having, instead of possessing the single ring, rings through both nipples. Would two strangers hooked to her be more fun, more amusing, whether by cock rings or other jewellery?

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