The CollectorA Story by Hans von Lieven
The Collector. There was no doubt about it, Marvin was exceptionally well hung.
There was also no doubt that Marvin was very proud of what nature had handed him so generously. It was just as well, he had little else to offer. Had it not been for his wealthy parents he would have found life tough going. As it was however, Marvin could afford to strut around at the beach all day, wearing his custom made swimming trunks designed to display his assets in a favourable fashion. He was keenly aware of the admiring looks the bulge in his pants was receiving. There was never any shortage of applicants for his talent, in this department Marvin did very well. Life was good. Today was no different. He was going through his usual routine showing himself off when he noticed her. She just sat there staring unashamedly at his crotch. He could see her n*****s harden under the thin fabric of her bikini top. 'God, is she beautiful,' Marvin thought as he walked towards her stopping no more than three feet in front of her. Without taking the eyes of his asset she said in a husky voice, trembling with excitement: "My name is Olivia, I collect dicks. I want to add yours to my collection." For a moment Marvin was stunned. He had heard many opening lines but this was new. "Go on don't be shy." She looked up at him and smiled. "Sit down, have a beer and tell me your name." With that she reached into her Esky, withdrew a couple of cans of VB and offered him one. Still somewhat numb Marvin accepted the can and sat down. "I'm Marvin," he said unsteadily. "What was this about your collection?" Olivia looked at him and laughed. She reached for him and sensuously traced an imaginary pattern on his chest. The bulge in Marvin's pants began to twitch. "I told you I collect dicks," she explained, "I believe I have the best penis collection in the world. I want you to pose for me. If you do I make it worth your while. I will bring you off like you have never come off before. I guarantee it." "This must be my lucky day!" Marvin said, much more confident now. He had run into artists before and it would not be the first time his penis had been immortalised on canvas. "I don't live very far from here, why don't we hop into my car and have a drink at my place," Olivia winked at him. Minutes later her Ferrari was following a narrow drive way to a sandstone mansion at the edge of the water. "You must be doing very well," remarked Marvin. "Well enough to indulge," she laughed. When Olivia and Marvin entered the large lobby Marvin froze. He had never seen anything like it. The walls were covered with trophies, the way a hunter might display his prize catches, but instead of the usual animals heads the mounts displayed a fully erect penis, complete with scrotum and pubic hair, delicately sculptured in some unknown material. Each mount had a small brass plaque with a name and a date beneath it. Olivia took him by the hand and led him through her home. Every race, every nationality was represented on the walls of the twenty or so rooms that she showed him. There must have been some five hundred mounts in all. Strange though they were, they were beautiful. The artist had painstakingly reproduced every vein, every skin fold, even the tiniest flaws in texture and the smallest hair. The result was incredibly life like. Marvin's self confidence returned. He could see why Olivia had wanted him to pose. He could hold his own even amongst the most outstanding specimens on display. They were in the living room. Olivia poured Marvin a drink. The strong alcohol felt good. He felt himself relax. Olivia excused herself and left the room. Marvin felt happy. He leaned back and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again he found himself strapped to a table in a brightly lit room, unable to move. Olivia, stark naked, was removing a towel from a trolley. She was breathing in short excited gasps. Beneath the towel were an array of surgical instruments. Olivia picked up a scalpel, testing its sharpness against her thumb. "These are funny tools for a sculptor," Marvin said uneasily, his senses returning to him rapidly. "But Marvin," she smiled sweetly as the scalpel bit into his groin, "I am not a sculptress, I'm a taxidermist........" Story by: Hans von Lieven, copyright 1993
© 2009 Hans von LievenAuthor's Note
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3 Reviews Added on August 25, 2009 Last Updated on August 25, 2009 AuthorHans von LievenDarwin, Northern Territory, AustraliaAboutI was born in 1939 in a small rural town in western Germany near the French, Luxembourg border. I am a mechanical engineer by profession but I have since retired. Since the late 1960's I have been liv.. more..Writing
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