Jacking With Jack: The Cure for Male Masturbation 2
By Gerste
gerstwhile@hushmail.com
Copyright 2016 by Gerste, all rights reserved
*
* * * *
This work is intended for ADULTS ONLY. It may contain depictions of
sexual activity
involving minors. If you are not of a legal age in your locality to
view such material or
if such material does not appeal to you, do not read further, and do
not save this
story.
* * * * *
Jack Dolhurstel felt
something being inserted into his anus. He saw blurry lights above his head, as
he lay there on what seemed to be a doctor's examination table. He was being
probed, it seemed. He could vaguely make out the images of what appeared to be
humanoid shapes, or "people," gathered around him. They were
fingering him, prodding, poking, pulling on his penis and testicles, all as if
they owned his body. The images became clearer, and went into focus. In horror,
Jack could see the appearance of extraterrestrials! He was in a space craft,
abducted by aliens!!! A scream he recognized as his own filled his ears, and
the room, but the aliens acted as if they had heard none of it. Then he heard a
voice say, "Wake his ass up...." His scream continued as the scene
dissolved into reality...
Jack's body jerked, as he awoke from his
nightmare, only to find his reality not remarkably dissimilar to his dream a
moment before. He was laying there, on his back on the couch, while girls and
women were examining his body, with particular attention directed toward his
genitals and anus. A big girl was poking her finger, which was unusually big
for her age, into his anus, while three girls had hold of his genitals: one,
his penis, and the other two, each of his testicles. One women was rubbing his
chest, and a second would pinch his nipples intermittently.
Then it all came back to him: the video of him
masturbating, which everyone in the room had been watching; his brothers and
cousins chiding him for doing that in his room; someone's demand that they
strip him, as he fainted at the breadth of it all. Apparently, they succeeded
in stripping him while he was unconscious. Jack didn't even know what to say,
he was so overwhelmed by it all. The finger he felt by the
"extraterrestrials" was in realitty a girl poking his anus in real
life. The voice he heard, saying, "Someone wake his ass up," was
probably one of the people in the room, Jack thought, and not just part of the
dream. As if to confirm his suspicions, the same voice said, this time with a
female's face attached, "Oh, he's awake now. It's about goddmaned time. He'd
been out for about an hour and a half. Everyone in the room has had a feel of
his dick four or five times now, and I want my sixth turn.
There was something awful in the woman's voice
that made Jack's stomach churn like butter. His bronze tan, carob thighs, and
unequally palid, untanned midriff, began to quiver, more from fear than
excitement; as those words about him being examined for upwards of an hour,
without his knowledge or consent, sank in. He felt so violated, and wanted to
rant and verbally assault his abusers, but the only words that came out of his
mouth were, "I just had a dream that I was being probed by aliens!" To
which a maternal, reassuring voice rejoined, "Oh, don't worry dear. It was
a nightmare. All is well." Jack knew the voice to be that of his mother,
who that moment came up to him, while he was "busy" being continually
molested in shifts, and placed her hand on his caramel shoulder (basted by the
right mixture of sun and lotion), and added, "It's a good thing you're
away from that alien probing."
"Yeah, good thing!" said the girl
who was anally probing him with her fingers. It was a second girl, who had
replaced the girl Jack woke up to. Apparently her turn was up. The girls who
had been playing with Jack's penis and scrotum were likewised replaced. Jack
then looked up at his mother and found the words to finally express his
discontent:
"Good thing? Good thing? Are you fucking
kidding me? You perverts are doing the same damn thing the aliens were doing! How
can that be a good thing? It's worst, because this is REALLY happening, and
that was just a dream!..." Mrs. Dolhurstel cut Jack off (no pun intended)
before he could get out another word.
"Now Jackie Franklin Dolhurstel, you stop
that foul language this instance, young man! No one is doing anything wrong to
you. Don't you play that victim card with us! We have every goddamn right to
touch your dick, balls and asshole. It was you who had no right to abuse
yourself with that obscene behavior you were displaying on film right in front
of everyone in this room."
"Yes, and everyone in your school,"
chimed another woman there present, who was staring as a was girl playing with
Jack's testes, "and many thousands online, as we've sent that video to all
your classmates and many others, both strangers and friends."
Jack could not believe what he was hearing. Not
only were they abusing him while recording it, but they were blaming him for
being, and "playing," the victim!
Jack's mother echoed the lady's sentiments:
"That's right, young man! You should be ashamed of yourself!"
Jack: "But I didn't record all this. You
guys did! And I didn't do all this stuff in front of you, but you guys snuck a
spycam into my room and caught me in the act! It is you who should be ashamed,
not me!"
That last sally cut them to the quick, as Mrs.
Dolhurstel's blood began to boil: "How dare you put this back on us! None
of this would have happened in the first place if had you not had the audacity
to jack off, Jack, in front of our offended camera...."
"Which I didn't even know was
there...!" Jack retorted, interrupting. Just then, Mrs. Dolhurstel's hand
went from caressing his cheek, to slapping it. Jack's ears rang and his head
recoiled on the pillow. Tears began to pour as he dissolved into a feeling of
hopelessness, mixed with an anxiousness for all of this to end, which, as he
was soon to learn, would be a very long time.
Jack's dejection became even more profound as
he spotted the monitor screen of the computer across the room, which was
playing the video of him masturbating. A woman realized what he was looking at
and said, "Look at how clear that is." Jack could see that the
computer replay was as clear as reality. "That's how clear it will be on
everyone's computer screen because of special media software we distributed."
As Jack cried, Dale Huzxel, his 12 year old
cousin (whom we had met earlier) piped up, "Jesus! What a crybaby! You're
such a fucking cry baby, just because everyone saw your dick and asshole, and
we all felt it. What a fucking gaylo!"
"Yeah," parroted Jack's 11 year old
brother "Mikey," whom we also met, "If you didn't like it, you
shouldn't have jacked off, jackoff! That's your new handle: Jack Jackoff!"
The three brothers chuckled at their repartee.
Jack's little nine year old brother Vince and Vince's twin sister were looking
at each other, laughing at their older naked brother.
And then suddenly, they heard it: "What
are you boys laughing at?" It was the voice of Mrs. Dolhurstel, their
mother. Despite the fact that Jack's little sister, Dorothy Dolhurstel, had
been laughing at him right alongside them, she seemed exempt from their
mother's address. She stepped away from her male siblings and cousin, as if
they had been holding lightning rods. The better part of valor told her she had
better be timid. But her feelings were exaggerated, for in truth, she had
nothing to fear. Whereas the boys, on the other hand...whereas the boys...
"You boys think you're not in trouble as
well?" she continued.
As she listened to her mother berate the boys,
Dorothy's expression changed, as if she remembered something concerning which
she had been coached. She wasn't destined to share her brothers' fate after
all. So she echoed her mother's sentiments: "Yeah, boys, do you think you
guys don't have anything to hide!" She chuckled under her breath.
Mrs. Dolhurstel looked at her
"compliant" daughter with a knowing expression, then back at the
boys, and, picking up on her cue, said, "In fact, you DON'T have anything
to hide, now DO you?"
The boys looked at each other with confused
expressions on their faces, as they failed to realize that she was referring to
what was under their clothes.
Nine year old Vince braved a few words:
"If we don't have anything to hide, why are you mad?"
"Silence, you!" Mrs. Dolhurstel's
voice was like that of a sharp crack of a whip, and had as much of an effect on
the shellshocked boys. They stared back at her with a confused expression,
mixed with terror at the prospect of sharing their hapless brother's fate.
As if to answer their confusion, Mrs. Dolhurstel
said, "Your brother Jack here is guilty of self-abuse." The boys'
quizzical expressions masked their further confusion at having to take in the
irony that Jack's so-called "self-abuse" was momentous, while the
reality of his CURRENT abuse was of NO moment. Luckily, she did not discern
this "obstinate" thought on their part.
She continued: "He abused this," so
saying, she yanked Jack's penis out of some girl's hand and pulled Jack up from
the couch about four inches. As his midsection arched up in conformity, his
upper back and calves still touched the couch. The boys looked shocked that she
had not yanked Jack's penis off. After a moment of dramatic pause, she let go
of Jack's sore, throbbing member, and he straightened back up on the couch. Whereupon
the girl who had been playing with his penis resumed her manipulations.
Mrs. Dolhurstel continued again: "But
have YOU boys been jacking off as well?"
The four boys frantically shook their heads,
as if they were shewing a swarm of gnats landing on their sweaty brows.
In his distress, Jack managed a bitter
rejoinder: "Well, why didn't you put cameras in their room to find
out?" There was anger in his voice, which bellowed up from a couldron
jealousy at the injustice of it all. Mrs. Dolhurstel looked at her abused son
and said, with a wry grin, "We did!" then turning back to her other
sons, added, "But the sneaky little shits must have been doing it outside
their rooms and the boys bathroom." (They had two bathrooms: one for the
boys, and the other, a private one for the girls."
A girl in the room said, "Yeah, but you
boys wouldn't jack off for the camera. We all did get to see you boys naked,
though. I and my friends at school just loved watching the DVD replays of you
boys showering."
"What the fuck," said Mikey, again,
for the hundredth time that night. The boys looked even more dumb founded at
the thought that they had already been exposed to so many curious eyes.
"She's kidding, right?" said Dale,
who until then had been silent for most of the discussion, lest he be seen as
equally culpable of, well, whatever reprehendable acts the boys were being
reprehended for.
"No, I'm afraid she's not," said a
voice that sounded like Dale's mother. Cousin Dale looked to see his mother,
Adrienne Huzxel, standing behind him. She added, "And Dale, don't think
for one minute that you yourself have not been watched."
"Yeah," said a strange girl,
"Nice dick, Dale!"
Dale looked over to his mother, mouth agape. He
saw her standing there with the girl who had spoken up. She had her hand on the
girl's head, tousling her hair, which had a tramp-like, disheveled appearnce. The
girl had to be about 14 or 15, and, winking, said further, "And we're
going to see a lot more." Dale blushed a crimson red at the thought that
this strange girl, who was "strange" in more ways than just her
apparent obscurity, had "known" him visually.
Mrs. Dolhurstel drew their attention back to
the matter at hand. "Boys," she snapped, as did their heads, as if to
attention, as they looked back at her in unison. "We're going to find out
if you boys have been masturbating."
"How," asked Mikey, bravely, with a
hint of quivering in his voice.
"By examination, of course. Stupid!"
she threw back.
The boys, still uncomprehending, stood there
like statues.
"Don't just stand there like
statues," she said, "Get to it!"
"G..get to what," said Vince.
"Get naked, right this instant!"
Looking over at Jack, they realized they had
no choice. He was a case in point example of their earnest.
"Including me?" said Dale, stupidly.
"Especially you!" his mother said
from behind, reaching her hand down his pants, through the cleft between his
but-cheeks, emerging, via the perineam, at the place of his genitals, which she
held in full hand.
This had an immediate paralyzing effect on the
otherwise strongwilled child, and his deameanor sank, like a drooping rag doll
in submission.
The boys balked a moment, unsure of
themselves, when they heard an even sterner voice, that of Mr. Dolhurstel,
blare, "You heard the woman, get to it at once." He snapped a belt as
he said this, accentuating the sheer violence of his "point." At
once, the boys ripped off their clothes. Mikey had a buttoned shirt, the
buttons of which went flying in all direction as he hastily complied. Only Dale
hesitated, as his mother's thumb was in his ass, in a non-manner of speaking,
and her "free" fingers cupped his sheathed testes. Mr. Dolhurstel
looked straight at Dale, his nephew, and said, "Well, boy, why aren't you
naked?" Dale shot back, "How can I be, since my mom's hand is down my
pants?"
Mrs. Huzxel immediately withdrew her right
hand from his pants and swatted him on the ear, saying, "Don't talk back
to your uncle like that. Now get naked, NOW! Unless you want to taste of his
belt, you little shit!"
So Dale likewise complied. Finally, all three
boys stood there, naked, with nicely circumcised penises of variable size.
Immediately, their hands went to cover their
boyhood, amid a room full of prying and curious eyes, which were trained on
them right at that moment. "Hey, there will be none of that," decried
a woman from across the room, referring to their feeble attempt to hide their
waning dignity.
Mrs. Dolhurstel said, "Indeed there
won't. Hands to your sides, boys. You have nothing to hide, and nothing we
haven't seen on you already!"
The boys did as they were told, realizing that
she was right. It was then that Mrs. Dolhurstel informed them, "You are
never to hide or touch your dicks or balls ever again, without
permission."
Vince: "From who?"
Mrs. Dolhurstel: "Whom."
Vince: "What?"
Mrs. Vince: "From whom. Use proper
grammar, boy. As as to WHOM, from anyone, but a fellow boy. They belong to
everyone other than yourselves and other boys. So naturally, they can handle
them whenever they damn well please, whereas you boys need to get permission
those dicks and ballsacks you once called 'yours.' And that goes for you, too,
Jack." Saying this, she glared over at the now frightened boy, forever
changed.
"How do we know if they have been
masturbating, since they didn't do that on camera?' asked a girl, who looked to
be about 17.
"Simple," answered Mrs. Dolhurstel,
"We get them erect, and examine to see if there are any 'dents' or
evidence of constriction on their boners. Lauren, the viagara is in the
kitchen, in the top drawer by the stove. Would you be a doll and get it for
us?" A girl who looked to be about 10 or 11 said, "Sure thing,"
and gleefully ran into the kitchen.
Dale had already had an erection, owing to his
mother "foreplay" while he still had his pants on. Mikey and Vince
achieved erections in a matter of seconds, since some girls were already
playing with "their" (i.e., the boys') penises. The girl, Lauren,
emerged with the viagara, a pitcher of water, and four styrofoam cups, on a
platter.
They then gave the cups of water to the boys
to drink as they took the pills. The boys haltingly obeyed, knowing they had
little choice.
Mrs. Dolhurstel: "Very good, then, girls
and women, examine their dicks for signs of compression. As a boy holds his
dick while jacking, he squeezes it at some point on it. Naturally, since he
doesn't do this everywhere on his dick, you see that it is sometimes thinner
somewhere in the middle than the rest of his dick. That's what you are looking
for, everyone."
Just then, a girl walked up to Mrs. Dolhurstel
and said, while holding up her index finger, "My finger stinks. I have
been sticking it inside Jack's asshole." At that, Mrs. Dolhurstel looked
over at her naked little couch potato and said, with a glint in her eye,
"Jack, you need a bath."
Her eyes were like slits—almost serpentine. Her
gaze sent chills down Jack's goosebump infested spine.
TO BE CONTINUED.
(End of File)