Condom Redemption 1

By NAMB

modestnot@gmail.com

Copyright 2020 by NAMB all rights reserved

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This story is intended for adults only. It contains depictions of forced nudity, spanking, and/or sexual activity of preteen and young teen children. This is fantasy, and the author in no way endorses or practices these things on real life. If you are not of legal age in your community to read or view such material, please leave now. 
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Foiled

My parents didn’t like me dating Mary Ellen, but the sex with her was great. If they knew we were doing it, they would have grounded me for life.

So when my little sister, Cissy, found my stash of condoms and threatened to turn them over to my parents, I was in a quandary.

I would have accused her of spying on me and tried to have gotten her in trouble for being in my room while I was gone, but I was a victim of my own laziness.

My mom had been after me to bring my clothes hamper down to the laundry for days. I kept putting her off with “OK, mom,” and promptly forgetting to do it.

So when Saturday and the need to do the laundry came around, mom was furious. I had already left to go play ball with my friends, and still the dirty clothes remained in hamper remained in my room. In desperation, she sent Cissy to get them for her.

It was under the hamper that I had hidden my “reserve” stock of condoms. I had one in my wallet (what boy didn’t) and a few loose ones hidden in some old socks in my drawer. The box needed a more “secure” location. It would have remained secured if I had just dumped my clothes from the hamper into the basket like mom asked me.

Mom gave me a dressing down when I got home. “Your laziness is really irking me. How many times have I asked you to bring your clothes down to the wash this week?” Without waiting for an answer, she went on. “Richard, you’re 16 years old. It’s time you started acting like a responsible adult. That means pulling your fair share of the work around the house.

I had to send Cissy up to your room to do your job for you. You owe her an apology. I only had to ask her once to bring down her clothes and she’s a good 5 years younger than you. She’s a lot more mature than you.

I think you owe her an apology for having to do your work for you.

The least you can do is carry the clean clothes up and put them back in your draws. Next time do as you are told.”

Cissy sat there, delighting in the lecture my mother was giving me. She beamed at the point where mom declared that she was more mature than me and she had a more than her usual ha-ha-you’re-in-trouble smirk on her face.

In spite of the attitude she was exuding, I still had to apologize to her. It was a bitter pill to swallow since she was only a girl and she was just a kid.

When I got to my room, I saw the empty clothes hamper. My stomach hardened and my heart sank. I threw the folded clothes on the bed and made a dash to check it.

I upended it and the box was gone! I looked behind the dresser and even in the waste paper basket.

Where did it go? Surely, if mom found it, she would have given me hell over it.

Just then my sister showed up at my door. “Looking for something?”

“None of your business,” I barked back.

“OK, I just was going to offer to help you find whatever you are looking for. By the way, what are you looking for?”

“Nothing!”

“You sure look rather frantic for someone looking for nothing. Maybe I can help you.”

Angrily I shot back, “I don’t need your help.”

Then she giggled, “I can think of a dozen reasons why you should let me help.”

“Oh no!” I thought.

“What do you mean. What did you find?”

“What did you lose?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“We’ll if you don’t tell me, I’ll have to ask mom and dad about what I found.”

“Oh shit!” my brain responded with sudden clarity.

“Give them back.”

“Why should I?”

Apologizing to her was bad enough, but having to negotiate with her was even worse. I really didn’t have a chance; she had the upper hand.

“I’ll give you $20.”

“No.”

“$50 – that’s all I have.” I was no longer negotiating, I was now begging.

“I don’t want your money.”

“What do you want?”

“You!”

“Me?”

“Yes you. I know what these things are and I know what they are used for. How do you think mom and dad will feel when they find out that you are having sex, admittedly ‘safe sex’ with Mary Ellen?”

Come on, sis, don’t do this to me. What do you want?”

“Now I want to see a real penis – YOURS.”

“What? No! I’m not showing you my … You’re crazy”

“Not as crazy as mom’s going to be when I show her what I found.”

“They’re mine! Give them back to me!”

“Why should I? They’re the only evidence I have against you. But I’ll give you the opportunity to destroy that evidence.”

“How? What do you have in mind?”

“I’ll make a deal with you. I will give them back to you. … one by one … but you have to fill each one of them for me.”

“You want me to do WHAT?”

“Fill them for me, one by one. … WHILE I WATCH. … I’m sure you know how to do that.

We learned about ejaculations in Human Development class. I heard how boys jerk off and I want to see you do that. I give you a condom, you put it on, you jerk off, I watch, you ejaculate into it, you give it back to me and I dispose of it for you. Mom and dad don’t find out.

This is going to be a fun weekend.”

“You don’t expect me to fill them all this weekend!”

“Why not?”

“That’s not possible, there’s a dozen of them in there. That’s 12 condoms. No boy can do it that often in such a short period of time.”

Now we were not longer negotiating over possession of my condoms, we were negating the terms of my capitulation. It was already decided that I would debase myself for her. It was only a matter of working out the details.

“What’s the most times you’ve done it?” she asked.

“Five times in a single day, but believe me after the second it wasn’t that great. It wouldn’t be much fun for you either. I hardly came at all. By the fifth time, it was just a couple of drops.”

My sister thought about it for a moment and then said, “OK, I’ll let you do it one at a time. We’ll spread it out. Only I get to decide when. So whenever I bring one out and give it to you, you’ll have to take out your penis and fill it for me. Fair enough?”

It wasn’t fair at all, but I had no choice but to agree to her terms. “OK,” I said.

I had lost and what’s worse, I lost to my kid sister. 


Packet 1

My surrender was complete. I had to jerk off each time my sister handed me a condom. At least I’d get them all back eventually and then the humiliation would be over.

Cissy cashed in immediately. “Good! Dad is out and mom will be going with Aunt Karen for an afternoon of shopping. We’ll do the first one this afternoon.”

That gave me a couple of hours to worry about how this was going to turn out. Cissy flashed that smug smirk at me again, blew me a kiss and said, “See you later, bro.” as she left.

Mom’s car was barely out of the driveway when my sister appeared at my door and knocked. Tossing me a packet she said, “Here’s your first one. I want you to do it now while I watch. Just for me, my private little show.”

Now that it came down to it, I was very nervous taking my clothes off with my sister watching. The only other girl I had ever done this for was Mary Ellen and she was also naked. Also, Mary Ellen was my age: a teen. Cissy was a child – at least as far as I was concerned.

When we had sex, Mary Ellen and I were on an equal standing, but to be naked in front of my fully-dressed little sister put me into a subordinate and even submissive position.

I started to disrobe slowly. Holding the condom, getting undressed – these were preludes to having sex. I couldn’t help myself. I was getting hard.

My penis was pointing straight out by the time I was totally naked.

I expected my sister to giggle and gloat but instead she pointed at it and asked in all seriousness, “Is that an erection?”

I just nodded and looked at the floor in front of me and mumbled a “yes.” My sister was so overwhelmingly in control that she intimidated me and I could not look at her.

“We learned about them in Human Development Class, too.” she went on, “I didn’t expect for it to look quite like that? Is that it? Is that as big as it gets?”

I nodded and she accepted my answer with an “OK.”

Just how much did they teach these girls? I wondered. My classes were rather clinical and showed a woman’s internal organs and how babies grew inside the mother. I guess they didn’t have to teach us about erections and ejaculations since we knew about them first-hand.

Cissy commanded, “Put it on. I want to see it. Let me watch.”

I decided that she was right. I might as well get on with it so I could get over it. I peeled open the packet, put the condom at the tip of my organ and rolled it back with my sister’s head so close, it obstructed my view.

Once it was in position, she asked, “You don’t have to do something special to make it work, do you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean how do you know when to make pee and when to make sperm?”

“I really don’t think about it. Pee comes, well, when pee comes. I imagine that it works the same way with girls too. Your bladder gets full, you have the urge to go, and you go.

Making sperm is kind of complicated. It used to come out on its own a night when I slept sometimes, but that hasn’t happened in quite a while. I think it’s because I have sex with Mary Ellen and …”

“And what?”

“And … jerk off.”

“Oh, and how does that work?”

I couldn’t believe I was having this conversation with my sister. On the one hand there was that kid-sister kind of glee that she gets when she has the upper hand. On the other hand, I could tell that she was genuinely interested in learning how boys work.

Given how intelligent and creative my sister is, I wondered how she would put this knowledge to work with her future boyfriends.

I went on to answer her question, “First I have to get it hard like this, …”

At this point, she interrupted me, “What do you have to do to make it hard?”

“I don’t know. It just happens sometimes. I can make it hard when I think about girls.”

Cissy giggled, “Really? Any girl?”

“Well, cute girls.”

“You’re hard now. Does that mean you think I’m cute?”

How does a boy answer that question? I muttered out, “You’re my sister. That’s different.”

She accepted that answer and got the conversation back on track, “So tell me about this jerk off thing.”

“Then I have to rub it. It’s best when it’s with a girl like with Mary Ellen. It feels good inside her.

But Mary Ellen and I don’t always have the opportunity to do it, so when the urge gets too strong, I jerk off.”

My sister looked at me, begging with her facial expression to go on. All she said was, “Tell me more.”

“I wrap my fist around it and I pull the skin back and forth over the head.

Shit! We both know that’s going to happen so why are you making me tell you all this. You’ll see soon enough.”

“I’m sorry,” she said with genuine contriteness. “I just wanted to know.

Are you OK? Are you ready to do it for me?”

Once again, I submissively nodded.

I had lost track of the number of times I had masturbated since I figured out how to do it. Yet, this was almost like the first time. It certainly was the first time I did it with someone else watching.

Although I often thought of Mary Ellen when I masturbated, I never did it with her. There was no sense on wasting an erection and a load of cum on my hand when I had the real thing right there.

I could tell that Mary Ellen was curious about it, but she never got the nerve to ask outright. I would have been embarrassed to do it for her. I’ve heard of boys doing it together, but I didn’t know of anyone who did it with a girl watching him.

I tried to think of Mary Ellen as I grabbed hold of my penis and started pulling on it. I never had jerked off into a condom before, and the sensation was new. All of the precum was trapped and it made for constant lubrication.

My penis felt harder than ever before. I wasn’t going to last long and I knew it.

Normally when I cum I like to look at how much comes out and how far it shoots. I really couldn’t do that with the rubber on. Instead I felt the warm gush of fluid around the head of my penis. This sensation was similar to having sex with Mary Ellen and somehow that imprinted on my mind.

I had to admit, there was a plus side to shooting off in a condom: cleanup was a lot easier.

Cissy squealed and clapped as she watched me cum.

“That was great!” she said. “Remember, I still have 11 more.”

I spent the rest of my thoughts on waiting for those other 11 shoes to drop. She was a joyful as a kid in an amusement park. I was wondering how my sister would use her “tickets.”

For the rest of the week I avoided jerking off concerned that maybe my sister would call upon me to perform for her right after I did it. I was still coming to grips with my new reality. 

Packet 2

I tried avoiding my sister for the rest of the week. That was impossible since we lived in the same house. However, she was playing it cool. She made absolutely no mention of our new relationship and except for her trademark smug smirk (or was I imagining that) was actually sweeter than her normal self.

There was a practical reason for her restraint; actually, two of them: mom and dad. We really couldn’t do much with them in the house, and Cissy was smart enough to hold onto her tickets until we had time for her to enjoy them.

The following Saturday was lawn mowing day. As always, I started in the front and worked my way to the back. When I went back around front to sweep the clippings off the sidewalk, I noticed a girl’s bicycle parked by the bushes.

It was then that I realized that Cissy must have told her friends about our new arrangement. I was so concerned about what she might reveal to mom and dad, that I completely forgot about the rest of the world. It was a point I failed to negotiate and now it might come back to bite me.

Still, there was a possibility that she was keep this just between the two of us. After all, there was some risk for her: she should not be doing it.

As I entered the house, I saw Cissy in the kitchen with her friend Donna. Donna must have slipped in while I was mowing. The two girls were chatting and giggling.

As I got closer, my heart sank. There, on the table, was a little foil packet. So much for Cissy keeping this a secret from her friends.

“I’ve told Donna all about the debt that you owe me. Now it’s time for another payment.”

“But, I’m all sweaty. I need to take a shower.”

“Oooh,” Donna exclaimed, “so much the better. I like looking at boys with sweat all over their bodies.” She smiled and then repeated, “ALL over their bodies.”

“What’s the matter Richie? You know you have to wash up after jerking off anyway. We can help wash you when you’re done.”

“Richie!” Cissy knows I hate that name. I prefer to go by Dick and Richard is the name my mother uses when she’s angry with me.

I decided to shut up. Every time I opened my mouth, I seemed to dig myself into a deeper hole. I held my head down and said, “Where do you want to do it?”

My sister was up and capering around, “In the playroom. It seems like the right place to do it. We’ll all be more comfortable there. I’ll pull the drapes.”

I remember the first time Mary Ellen and I got undressed together. It was embarrassing enough, but nakedness was required if we were going to have sex. After a while, we both became more comfortable with our nudity with each other.

All week long I tried repressing the shame of being naked and masturbating at my sister’s command. However, I kept replaying the scenario in my mind, perhaps maybe to numb it. I knew I’d be humiliating myself again for her. So I was hoping that the next time would be better.

But last week’s performance was in the cloistered environment of my bedroom. It was a familiar venue for my being naked. It was also a familiar venue for jerking off. My sister’s presence while I did both was out of place, but everything else was normal.

However, I was now in the playroom: a public and open space in the house. I felt like my parents could walk in on us at any moment even though I knew they would still be gone for hours.

Now there was another girl: Donna. All of a sudden, this was a public spectacle. I had an intimate relationship with Mary Ellen. I’ve known my sister ever since she was born. I was comfortable in her presence.

Donna wasn’t exactly a stranger. I’ve seen her with my sister before, but I never really paid attention to her. She was just another “little girl” who hung out with my sister to me, but now she was a little girl in front of whom I was to expose myself.

Fortunately, Donna was too overwhelmed by what my sister must have told her to take any action on her part. She was content to sit back and let my sister do the driving.

The girls sat comfortably on the couch as Cissy said, “Don’t sit anywhere. You’re too sweaty and dirty. Stand there in front of us and take your clothes off.”

I knew I didn’t have a choice. I started to disrobe while Donna sat there and gawked.

She managed a giggle when I finally stepped out of my underwear and saw my flaccid penis. I don’t know the reason for it, but whenever I do physical exercise such as mowing the lawn or playing sports, my genitals retract and almost become internal organs. I suppose I can’t complain; it does keep them out of harm’s way.

She pointed and managed to say, “It’s not very big.”

I thought, “She’s not going to score a lot of points with her boyfriends with comments like that.” I don’t think Mary Ellen had ever seen my penis when it wasn’t erected. Even after sex, it didn’t go completely down in her presence.

I had no idea what experience Donna had with penises. I could very well be her first.

Cissy laughed at her. “It doesn’t get big until he has a hard-on. That will happen soon enough.”

My sister fingered the condom package as she prepared to give it to me. She bit her lower lip as if she was deliberating something and then her face lit up. “I know!” she said with sudden glee, “Let me do it. Let me put it on you.”

“Do you know how?”

“Of course I do. I took sex ed, you know. Also we got hands-on experience how to put them on a penis in Girl Scouts. Oh, it wasn’t a real penis; it was a cylinder with a rounded top. It kind of looked more like a banana than a real penis. It didn’t have a knob on it like yours does and it was made out of polished wood. We called it ‘Woody.’ It seemed like the right thing to call it.” She giggled.

She looked at me and said, “I’ll do my part, if you do yours. You’re supposed to be hard for this. Get it up.”

I found a funny kind of thrill in the firmness of her command. I almost snapped back a “yes, ma’am” but stifled it. Instead I grabbed my organ and started pumping it.

“What is he doing?” Donna asked.

Cissy jumped right in, “He’s making it hard. He’s giving himself an erection.”

Both girls watched as I masturbated myself into hardness. It didn’t take a lot of strokes.

Cissy took the packet, opened it and looked closely at the rubber apparently trying to figure out how to unroll it. Cissy might have done it only once, and she didn’t have the experience Mary Ellen had doing it, but it didn’t take her long to get it oriented.

I flinched has she put the end of it up to the head of my penis, and then felt a thrill as she rolled it on with her fingers. I had to admit, she knew what she was doing even though I’m certain this was her first time with a rubber on a real penis. I wondered if it was her first time she had her hands on a penis at all. As confidently as she handled my organ, I think not.

She sat back and smiled. “Is that right?” she asked.

I actually smiled back, “Yes, it’s perfect.”

Donna took in the whole scenario and asked, “That looked like fun; can I try that?”

Cissy smiled at her. “I have to save these for the right occasion. I’m not going to waste one on practice. Maybe next time.”

I knew how many more next times there would be, but I wondered what girls would be attending them.

Now that it was down to it, my sister simply commanded, “Do it!”

I closed my eyes and started stroking, fully aware that two girls were watching me do it. Even with eyes shut I could feel their presence. I could hear their giggling and even though we were the only three people present, their whispering back and forth.

Somehow the embarrassment of the situation made me more sexually tense than even some of the times I had sex with Mary Ellen. Maybe I was getting complacent. I had to admit that the best times with her was when there was an element of risk: that someone might catch us in the act.

This was a bit like that. It was sex under a novel and unusual circumstance. It all added to the hardness of my penis and the excitement building within me.

I tried to detach my mind with the ridiculousness of the situation: a naked 16-year-old boy kneeling before two fully-clothed pre-teen girls and jerking off for them. Instead I concentrated on my sexual tension.

I shot off with an overwhelming cum.

The girls screeched and giggled.

Two down and ten to go.











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