Confessions of a Panty Slave

Confessions of a Panty Slave
By NAMB
modestnot@gmail.com

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This story is intended for ADULTS ONLY. It contains explicit 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.
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There are several kinds of boys in this world: those who have masturbated to their sister's panties, those who say they haven't but are lying about it, those without sisters, and those who are sexually dead. I am a member of the rather large first kind.

I grew up in the 1950's we didn't have internet then. As a young pre-teen, the best I could do was the girl's section of mom's Sears Catalogue and at least they showed pictures of women and girls in their undergarments. I didn't have a lot of time alone in the house (mom was a typical 50's stay at home mom.) so I didn't even get to masturbate to the catalog all that often.

I can't say when my fetish for panties began, I sort of always had it, but it really kicked in when I was about 12 years old Just about everything sexual kicked in when I was 12. That's when puberty hit and it hit hard. I started to notice girls, and I tried to imagine them in their panties.

I tended to forget that I lived with a girl. Two of them in fact: my sister and my mom. Mom was, well mom. I couldn't think of her in any way other than mom. If I really thought hard about it I could imagine that she was probably a girl at one time, maybe in a former life, but she was mom before anything else and there is no way I could harbor a sexual thought about her.

But the girls in my class were something different. All of a sudden they stopped being "just girls" and were now real girls. I mean, they were the same kids that they always were, but now they seemed different and instead of being annoying beings or people to ignore and not take into your calculations, they now had a new appeal. They became mysterious and desirable creatures. I had to learn more about them and maybe my sister could offer me a clue.

My sister Melissa was my younger sibling by almost 2 years. She happened to be a female sibling and for most of my life, I couldn't think of her as a real girl either. She was Melissa: kid sister, sometime play pal when the weather was bad and mom made me, often a pain in the neck when she got into my things, an easy target to tease but a family member and always there.

But then she turned 11 and I could see her transforming into one of these mysterious and alluring creatures before my eyes. She started to look more like a girl, dress more like a girl and act more like a girl: a girl who lived in the room next to mine and whose crotch lived inside her panties.

Melissa was growing up and mom was buying her more mature panties. Gone were the little-girl panties. She still didn't have fancy ones, and they were still cotton, but they were definitely girl panties and not child panties. Mom even bought her training bras! I knew about these changes since we did share a clothing hamper.

It was convenient that our hamper was in the bathroom (the one mom and dad used was in their bedroom) since that was about the only place I could masturbate. I could reach in and pick out her panties. Often I would pick out several pairs and spread them out hanging off the edge of the vanity and look at them and fantasize that they were worn by some of the girls in my class as they modeled them before me. Before I could pull my pants down and kneel in front to the toilet to jerk off, I would be rock hard. I'd alternate between looking at the panties, to refresh my memory, and closing my eyes to imagine the girls in them, looking down at me and laughing as they watched me jerk off.

That was the other element of my fetish: humiliation. I've heard other boys brag about their "conquests" over the opposite sex but I could not see myself taking advantage of a girl. Quite the contrary! I felt that in some intangible way, girls were superior to me. It was like they knew things about us boys and shared these secrets. In my fantasy world, girls had the right to ask boys to strip for them and do silly things and us boys had to obey.

Panties fit into this world. They were an ignoble garment, worn only to serve a utilitarian purpose, and they clothed the basest parts of a girl's body. Yet they commanded interest.

Slowly, I was sucked into the vortex of panty worship. Seeing them wasn't enough any more. I had to feel them. I had to rub them against my face and sniff them.

I guess girls mature faster than boys. By the time my sister turned 12 she was having some spotting in her panties. They started smelling different too. I sometimes could catch a whiff of her urine or some excrement left behind due to hurried or poor hygiene. But now there was a different smell, a primal feminine smell, and I couldn't get enough of it. I knew it came from inside her. I knew it was once part of her body, and now it was becoming part of mine as I inhaled it.

Then there was the day "it" happened. Up to this point, I was merely sniffing her panties while jerking off. What would happen if I were to actually touch them to my penis? I was almost too scared to try. It was like if I crossed that threshold, there would be no turning back. I would fall into a deep hole from which there was no escape. These were magical objects. They had power over me. It wasn't like I was going to rub my penis with them for my own gratification; it was more like I was offering my penis to them as a token to the girl who owned them and if the offering were accepted, I'd be her slave.

I slowly moved the panties from my face down to my crotch. The touch of the fabric was electrifying. Somewhere in the back reaches of my mind was the logic that it was merely an object made of cotton, probably the same kind of cotton from which my own underwear was made. But this logic never made its way to the surface. This was a girl's underwear. Somehow by wearing it, and by staining it, my sister had consecrated it into an object of worship.

I didn't even have to rub. Merely clamping the sacred object around the head of my penis caused it to ejaculate. I had no control. Her panties made me ejaculate, and I could not do anything to stop it. My orgasm was so intense that I had to lean forward and grab the tank of the toilet to keep from falling over.

My orgasm was like the first hit of a drug. I knew I needed to do this again. I hoped that the intensity would never diminish. It was too much. I had crossed the line. I was addicted. I was a claimed and owned man of my junior sibling and my sister didn't even know it yet. She had done nothing to make me her thrall, and yet enthralled I was.

As I came down from my post ejaculatory high, I noticed the impracticality of it all. The panties were soaked with my cum. I couldn't put them back in the hamper in that condition. Somehow I had to get them washed and dried. Fortunately, it was Saturday, and everyone was out even my sister. I quickly washed them in the kitchen sink using dishwashing detergent, rinsed them out and hung them out to dry on the back of the garage. The washing might have taken 10 minutes and every minute of it was with total fear of someone discovering me and total erection from my handling of this intimate object. I had to jerk off again, or it would never go down. I did so without the benefit of panties several times until my penis could no longer respond. Later that evening I was able to smuggle the panties back into the hamper.

From that moment, I lived to recreate the event, but I couldn't risk getting caught with cum-soaked panties, and I could rarely depend on having the opportunity to be able to clean them after I used them. Merely sniffing and jerking off wasn't enough anymore. Yet I knew I couldn't touch my penis with them when I was excited. I did the next best thing; I started wearing them prior to my jerk off sessions.

I tried getting into them while my penis was still small, but just the thought of putting them on made me hard. I felt like a thief each time I approached the hamper in the bathroom. I would be dripping with sexual excitement by the time I selected the pair I wanted, and pulled them up my naked legs. Even when I went to the bathroom just to pee or take a shower, I would get an erection knowing that on the inside of this humble container were the objects of my desire. It was as if their presence could radiate though solid objects.

I planned each mission carefully, going into the bathroom about an hour before jerking off and slip on a pair of my sister's panties. They were way too small for me, so it was uncomfortable wearing them. But it was worth it. I had to push my penis off to one side so it fit in the front panel up against my hip. Pulling up my pants, I enjoyed a continuous erection until I could get back into the bathroom to masturbate. Having my penis so hard for so long made my orgasms a lot stronger.

This practice was my undoing. I was now leaving some spotting of my own on my sister's panties and in a place where a girl would be hard pressed to leave one. I didn't think my sister would notice. I was wrong.

My sister was in charge of doing our laundry, carrying the hamper to the washing machine and unloading it, and carrying the clean clothes back and folding them. I got more glamorous assignments such as mowing the lawn, raking leaves, shoveling snow, and the perpetual task of taking out the garbage.

Melissa apparently knew something was going on with her panties. More than once I caught her going into the bathroom immediately after I got out. That should have been a warning to me, but horny boys don't heed warnings.

I had just finished a great session in the bathroom fantasizing about one of the girls in my class. I cleaned up my mess, and went to my room to start my homework. I saw Melissa go into the bathroom and thought nothing more of it. I had my nose buried in a book when she made her presence known at my door. I looked up and she was standing there with the panties I just wore in her hand.

"What's this?" she bristled.

"Your panties," I said sarcastically.

"And what's this slippery wet spot on them?"

I had no answer to that. Heck, she's only 12. What could she know about boy's cum?

"Answer me or I'll ask mom what she thinks it is."

"I don't know. Stuff."

"Stuff!" she almost shouted, "You mean boy stuff!"

I just swallowed hard and nodded.

"It's still warm," she went on. "Now I'm sure what's been causing those spots on my panties. I've noticed them before. This time I checked the hamper this morning and these were dry. All my panties were dry. I checked again after you came out before and these were missing. Now you come out and they're back in the hamper and they're wet."

"Don't tell mom, please. I'll never do it again."

"Oh, I don't plan on telling her."

"Thanks, sis."

"Don't thank me yet. There's a catch to this deal."

"OK, name your terms."

"First, I get $3 of your allowance each week."

"A dollar!" I bargained back.

"Two dollars," she said then added, "or I tell mom right now."

I swallowed hard again, $2 is a lot when your whole allowance is $5. But I agreed.

"Next, you'll do my laundry chores from now on."

It was inconvenient, but I could agree to that. I nodded my head slowly.

"It's only fair," she countered, "You're the one who is soiling my panties."

"I promise to stop. I swear."

"I don't want you to stop."

"What?"

"I want you to keep doing it. I'll even lend you some of my panties so you can do it."

"I-I don't understand."

"Look, you're probably going to do it anyway except you'll be sneakier about it now that you know I'm on to you. So I'll let you do it as much as you want. Besides I don't want them on me after you've been wearing them."

"I swear, I only wear dirty ones from the hamper."

"So you admit you've been wearing my panties."

I nodded and could feel the heat rising in my face, "Yes." The heat in my face wasn't the only thing that was rising.

"OK, as long as you use ones from the hamper," my sister concluded.

I was sure my sister hadn't become kind-hearted all of a sudden. I had teased the hell out of her as only an older brother can and I am sure that some sort of payback was due.

"What's the catch?" I asked.

"The only catch is that I get to watch you when I want."

I looked at her blankly.

"I mean, if you want to do it, you have to come and get me. You can't do it unless you tell me and you HAVE to do it if I tell you."

"I can't do that. Mom and dad are always around. The only place I can do it is in the bathroom. They're going to ask questions if we both go in there together."

"We can do it now," my sister answered, "Dad's at work, and mom's at the store. You know she'll be gone for about an hour. It shouldn't take you that long. Whatever you did in there only took you about 5 minutes."

"I can't. I just did it."

"So?"

"So boys have to wait between doing it." It was obvious that my sister had some knowledge of male masturbation, but obviously it was limited. I wondered just how much she did know and how she found out.

"How long?" she asked.

"I don't know. Twenty, thirty minutes."

"Well, it's already been about 15 minutes." She looked at the clock. "I'll give you another 15 minutes and then we'll do it."

In some ways this was worse. I had 15 minutes to stew and think about it. The anticipation of the event made it worse. I tried to distract myself with my homework, but it was useless. My mind was locked on the act I would soon be forced to commit and how it might be carried out. I was ashamed doing it alone; I had no idea how bad it would be with my sister as a witness .As the clock ticked away, I got more anxious.

Melissa showed up at my door with about 5 minutes to spare, and said, "Let's go."

"It's not time yet," I complained.

"Yeah, but you can get undressed. You have to take your clothes off to do it, don't you?"

"Well, not entirely, I can take it out of my fly or just pull my pants down."

"But you can do it completely naked too."

"Yes, but ..."

"No buts. I want to see you completely naked or I tell mom. I still have the panties, and what do you think she'll do if I show them to her."

What could I do? I got up. "OK, let's go," I said dejectedly.

"Where are you going?"

"To the bathroom."

"Can't we do it here?" she asked.

"Too messy," I answered.

"OK, leave your clothes here, and then we'll go to the bathroom."

"Why here? Can't I get undressed in the bathroom?"

She rolled her eyes at me, as I was apparently not getting her point, so she stated it more explicitly, "Because I want to see you. There's not enough room in the bathroom for that. Now get undressed."

I got undressed. It was difficult to do with my sister looking at me, but at least the setting was familiar. I was in my room, and I closed my eyes trying to forget the fact that she was there watching me.

When I opened my eyes I could see my sister's face. Her eyes were wide and she was biting her lower lip nervously. I don't know whose stomach was flipping more, hers or mine.

"Stand up!" she commanded, "I want to see you."

I stood up and looked down at the floor, head hanging down, arms and hands limp at my side, but instinctively covering my groin.

"Hands on your head and turn around."

I turned to face the bed with my back to her.

"Keep turning" she said after having some time to view me from the back. "Hands down," she said when I was back facing her.

She reached out and took my hand and started to lead me to the bathroom like a little child. I followed meekly. I really felt more than naked in the hallway. The only places I've ever been naked in the house was in my bedroom and in the bathroom. I always had at least my underwear on when I was upstairs elsewhere, and completely dressed before I went downstairs.

We got to the bathroom and she said, "Do it."

"I ... um," I said.

She got my drift immediately, "Do you need a pair of my panties?"

"I don't need them, but it does make it better."

"OK," she said, "Get my green ones out of the hamper. If you're going to soil them, I might as well have you do a pair that I have to wash anyway. You don't want the blue ones on top. I wore those to school yesterday. We had gym, so I'm afraid they're not that clean."

"That's even better," I said.

She looked at me funny and all I could say was, "I can't explain it, but it is. Somehow, they have more 'girl smell' on them."

I rummaged through the hamper and found the blue pair. I could see some staining. I brought it to my nose and took a quick whiff. In the process, my heretofore reluctant penis started to stir.

Melissa obviously noticed, "What's it doing?" she asked. "It's getting big."

I looked down at my rapidly inflating penis and said, "It's called a hard-on. It means ... I mean it has to do that before I can ... do it." I realized that although I had been masturbating for as long as I can remember, my vocabulary was not up to the task. This was my sister, and I didn't want to use street language terms with her.

I took the panties and sniffed deeply at them. I could hear a muted, "yech" from my sister, "I mean I think I even peed a little in them when I did that split."

I looked at her and said, "You're the one who wanted to see this. Do you want me to stop?"

"No," was all that she could reply back.

I opened the toilet, and then knelt before it.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"It's better this way. I can aim it so the stuff shoots into the water. It makes cleanup a lot easier."

"Oh," then she added, "Um, can I sit on the tank so I can see better?"

I got back and she sat on the tank putting her feet on the edges of the bowl to balance herself. "Is this OK," she asked, "will you still be able to do it with me sitting here like this?"

"I think so," I responded. Actually it was kind of exciting. In that position, her crotch was right in front of me. Even though she was wearing shorts and I couldn't see anything, just knowing that it was so close to my face made the event all that more exciting. I'd have to convince her to do this when she has a skirt on so I could see her panties.

I lowered my head and looked at the bowl. It seemed funny to see her sneakers on either side. There was a gentle but firm tug on my hair and I raised my head. "Can you do it without looking at it?" she asked.

"Yeah," I responded.

"Then do it that way. Look up at me. I can't see with your head in the way."

I closed my eyes. I couldn't bear to look my sister in the face. I stopped pumping when she pulled my hair. Now she asked, "How long does it take to do? I mean do we have enough time before mom comes home?"

I thought about lying, but I didn't want to risk her telling mom. "I don't know a couple minutes maybe five."

"OK, do it then."

I closed my eyes again, took a deep sniff, allowed my sister's aroma to fill me, and pumped away. I have no idea whether it was one minute or five, but soon I felt the tinglings. I started to gasp and then pant.

I heard Melissa as from a distance, "Are you OK?"

I could only nod a response.

I could feel the first gush come forward and heard Melissa squeal with delight. There was a high-pitched, squeaky "Omigod!" on the second squirt and giggles as I pumped out my remaining semen.

"I didn't know you could do it that many times," she said.

"I could probably do it more if I hadn't just done it earlier," I said.

She looked at me with a question on her face.

"The first one of the day is always the best. They sort of get less the more times I do it."

"Just how often do you do it?"

"I don't know. Once, twice a day when I can."

"Well, I want to see them all. I don't want you sneaking off and doing it when I can't watch. If I catch you cheating, I show mom the panties."

"OK, but what about days when we can't do it?"

"Then you don't do it."

"That's not fair. I can't hold out that long."

"What's the longest time you didn't do it?"

"Remember that time we went to Aunt Betty's and Uncle Harry's place at the lake?"

"Yeah, we were there for two weeks."

"Well I only got to do it once while we were there. So I guess about a week."

"Well, we should be able to do it at least once a week."

"But ..." I said. Here I was naked on my knees, hand on my deflated penis, looking up at my fully-clothed sister as she stared down on me from her position on her throne. It was hardly the best position from which to be arguing.

"No buts. I'll let you know when I want to see it again. And it better be better than this, otherwise I'll know that you've been cheating."

-=o=-

Somehow I managed to get through the week. Friday came and so did my allowance. Melissa walked into my room without even knocking. She held out her hand. I looked at it.

"Fork it over," she demanded.

"What?"

"The two dollars."

"I don't have change."

"Well I do."

She offered three one-dollar bills and took my five in exchange.

"Nice doing business with you, brother."

Saturday, I got up and had breakfast with my parents. They were already making plans for the day. It would be a busy one. I got my list of chores to do: mowing the lawn, weeding along the walkway, and cleaning out a portion of the garage.

Melissa wandered down just before they were about to leave and got her assignments vacuuming the rug in the living room, dusting the den and cleaning the downstairs bathroom.

As soon as my parents left, she turned to me and smiled, "You got all that?"

"All what?"

"Your chores."

"Yeah, mow, weed, clean the garage."

"And vacuum, dust and clean the bathroom," she added. "That's on top of taking care of the laundry."

"I don't know how to do the laundry."

"You know how to dirty it. You'll learn how to clean it. It's not hard. I'll show you."

She rolled her eyes back and tapped her finger against the side of her face in a dramatic gesture to indicate that she was thinking of something. "Now let me see," she began, "My panties have a stain in them. How did that stain get there? Could it be that some boy was wearing them?

"I think we'll have to put you in panties," she announced.

She led me upstairs to the bathroom where she went through the hamper making a big show of looking at each pair of her panties studying each one in great detail. "No, no, maybe, no, definitely not ..."

All the while as the parade of panties was revealed before me, my penis was slowly inflating into hardness.

She finally selected a pair of bikini panties and handed them to me. "Here, put these on."

"I can't. They don't fit." I knew this from previous experimentation.

"Let's see."

"You mean here? Now?"

"Yes."

For the second time in the week, I was naked before my sister. I attempted to step into the panties and did get them as far as my crotch, but there was no way I could get my penis into them.

She selected a full-cut set and had me try them on. As usual they were tight, but they did fit and my bulging penis was pushed off to the side, and clearly and completely visible.

She sat back and smiled, "I like them. Wear them when you do my chores. In fact, wear them when you do your chores too, but I'll let you wear you 'boy clothes' over them for that."

I hit me. I was to do all of her chores completely naked except for her panties.

It felt really funny being essentially naked in the "public" part of the house. I've never done that, and I felt more than exposed.

Melissa was a stern taskmaster and supervised my every move and inspected my results. I took nearly two hours to get her chores done, and mine hadn't even started.

I was finally allowed to get dressed, and then Melissa surprised me. She too, had changed into her "gungies" and said, "I'll help you with your chores." She was actually good help. I still did all the "heavy lifting" but she did things like haul out the bags of garbage I filled, empty a wheelbarrow full of weeds, and sweep up miscellaneous clippings. Both of us had worked up a good sweat.

We got back in the house and I expected that my normally prissy sister would run off to take a shower. Instead she ordered me, "Go up to the bathroom, take off your clothes but leave the panties on."

Within minutes, Melissa returned with a pair of panties in her hand. "These are for you."

I took them in my hand. They were still warm and damp.

"I wore these all day yesterday. I certainly wasn't going to put on a clean pair to do dirty work. So I wore them again today. They're refreshed with my sweat."

She took her position on the back of the toilet again. "Leave the panties on. Just pull them down."

I took up my position with penis bobbing up and down over the top of my panties. I looked at her and mustered all the bravery I could and asked, "Um, the next time do you think you could wear a skirt so I could see your panties as you're wearing them?" I was afraid that she would get angry at the request but she simply hopped off the toilet and ran to her room.

She soon came back wearing a short skirt. "This is an old skirt. It's too small for me now, but it should meet your needs."

She resumed her position and spread her legs. I could see her panties. It was another worn pair. I didn't think my penis could get any harder. I was looking at the very essence of a girl, the seat of her femininity and all that was between it and me was a matter of inches and a thin piece of cloth. I was come to venerate in the antechamber of the Holy of Holies.

"Do it!"

I only had to take a couple of strokes before I shot off like a Roman Candle on the 4th of July.

I don't think either Melissa or I managed to breathe for a full minute.

"Wow, that was great," She finally managed to say.

There was another bathroom to clean. My ejaculate went completely over the bowl and hit the tank and seat.

"If that's what you meant by the first time is the best, then you weren't lying."

"That's a first for me," I managed to say. "I've never had such a good cum."

-=o=-

If I wanted to cheat, I couldn't. Now that Melissa was on to me, she didn't put her panties in the hamper until laundry day. Sure, I could jerk off, but without my fetish object, it just wasn't the same. Besides I never knew when my sister might pull a surprise inspection on me.

I kept begging my sister for relief, "Melissa, you don't know what it's like for a guy. The pressure builds up and it's uncomfortable."

"Sorry, brother. I like to see you in your full glory. You told me if you do it too much, it doesn't squirt as much."

"If I do it too many times in one day. I can be fully recharged in a day."

Melissa smiled at me, "I would like to see you do it every day. That would be fun."

"Then you'll let me have a pair of your panties?"

"No, I wouldn't get to see you then."

"Please! I promise I'll be ready to go on Saturday. I'll still give you a good show."

"Let me see what I can come up with. You're really that hard up for this, aren't you?"

I nodded vigorously.

I was in a bad mood for the next couple of days. It was only Tuesday, and I still had the rest of the week to go. Melissa seemed happy to see me come home from school.

She couldn't wait to get me out of earshot of mom. "You still want to do it during the week?"

She didn't tell me what "it" was, but we both knew what she was talking about.

"Of course," I replied.

"You know my best friend, Darcy?"

I nodded. Darcy and Melissa were inseparable. It was rare to see one without the other. However, I didn't like where this conversation was heading.

"Well, her mother works and her older sister goes to college, so she has a couple of hours alone each day after school."

"No."

"Come on. You want to do it, and I want to see you do it"

"But ..."

"Darcy's a big girl, just like me. Her panties are just as dirty as mine, I'm sure, although I haven't checked."

"No, and don't you go telling her about us."

"Too late. She wants to see this for herself too!"

I blushed. How many other girls had my sister been bragging to? I couldn't say a thing.

My sister became uncomfortable with the silence "So, do you want to do it?"

What could I do? Half the battle was over with. This girl already knew about my habits and I did want to get it off. "OK," I mumbled.

"Good! Be there tomorrow after school."

I caught her in the kitchen a couple of minutes later on the phone, "He says he'll do it." I was hoping that she was spreading the news no further than Darcy.

I lived the next 24 hours in an erected state, thinking about what was going to happen at Darcy's house. That was just the problem: I had no idea what was going to happen at Darcy's house. My sister seemed confident in taking control of our situation. Would the presence of another girl inhibit her or encourage her?

I knew were Darcy lived from a time when my dad dropped my sister off for a sleepover and took the rest of the family onto dinner. Her house was only a couple of streets off my normal route home from school. As school ended my anxiety level increased with each step I took. I got to the point where I could either turn right to go home, or left to go to Darcy's house.

I swallowed hard, closed my eyes, and made the turn. It was as if my penis were pointing like a compass needle, leading me to my doom.

The middle school let out about 10 minutes earlier than the high school, and was closer, so I expected that the girls would be there before me. I walked up the walkway, climbed the steps onto the porch and rang the bell. The door opened and I saw a face: a girl's face.

At first I didn't recognize her. The last time I saw Darcy was about a year ago at my sister's birthday party. The two girls hung out together all the time, but never at our place. She had changed. I was expecting a chubby-faced little girl and was seeing a beautiful pre-teen. Even though her Saint Katherine's School uniform was deliberately designed to hide her features, I could tell that the rest of her body had changed too. She had slimmed down in most areas and budded out in another.

She flashed a very engaging smile at me and said, "Come in. Melissa is already here. We can do it in the master bathroom." I took that as a sign that she was eager or that we were on a limited time schedule.

As I entered the hallway, I found that Melissa was almost on her heels. I didn't even get to see the rest of the house as the girls led me up the stairs to what I presume was Darcy's parent's bedroom. I looked at their rear ends as they swayed inside their schoolgirl skirts at eye level on the steps in front of me.

"I don't think we have room for you to kneel at the toilet. Only one of us can sit and watch you do it." Melissa said. Then she asked. "Can you do it laying down?"

"I can, but then it gets all over me and I have to clean it up."

"That's OK," Darcy said. "We decided that you could lay down in the tub and then take a shower to clean it off."

The girls had obviously planned all the details out. Melissa had seen me jerk off so she knew how much came out and how far it could squirt. I wondered if Darcy knew what she was talking about.

We got to the bedroom and stood there in silence. The girls were afraid to ask me to take off my clothes and I was afraid to do it. Finally my sister took me by the hand and led me to a chair. She said, "You can put your clothes here."

I started to get undressed with a conflicted mind. On the one hand, I wanted to get it off. Ever since my sister told me that she made arrangements so I could get it off in the middle of the week, I was thinking about it. One the other hand, there was the humiliation of getting naked in front of these two girls. Not only getting naked, but getting naked because it pleases them. My mind went back to my fantasies of a year ago when I went to the grade school and my female classmates wore the same kind of uniform.

As I disrobed, I took a peek at the girls. They were focused on my crotch. There eyes were wide and they seemed to be holding their breaths.

I pulled down my underwear. The anticipation of getting it off and humiliation of being the only naked person in the room added to quite a respectable hard-on. As I stood up I heard a squeal and a giggle.

For the first time in several minutes, I heard a voice. It was Darcy's. "Can I see it? I want to see what it feels like."

"I know," Melissa said, "He can lay on the bed. We can look at him there." Somehow I was transformed into my sister's property: a toy that she could share with her friends. I had no say in the matter, so I just sat down on the bed and lay back with feet still on the floor.

Darcy and Melissa knelt down in front of me forcing my legs apart. I closed my eyes as I felt two pairs of girlish hands poking, pulling and prodding my penis and balls.

"Oh look at that!" I heard Darcy squeal. "What is that? Pee?"

I opened my eyes and looked down. I could see my penis standing tall with the faces of the two girls close behind it. At the tip was a drop of pre-cum. "It's not pee," I responded, "it happens when I get excited."

"Does this mean you're going to shoot now?" my sister asked with a nervous voice. "We can't get the bed messy."

I actually laughed, "No, it's going to take a lot more than what you girls are doing to make that happen."

"You mean we can do it?" Darcy asked.

"Do what?"

"Make you squirt."

"I guess so. I don't know, I've never tried it. I mean, nobody else has ever touched me there."

"Even if you don't want to do it," Darcy pressed on with her interrogation.

"I don't know," I reiterated.

"We got to try that sometime," my sister added.

"I don't know if we have time now," said her friend. "Let's go to the bathroom and get started. How long does it take?"

"About 5 or 10 minutes," my sister replied. She was being generous. I had no control over my ejaculations when panties were involved.

We got into the bathroom, and the girls had me lay down in the tub. It felt cold, but did nothing to cool my erection. Melissa disappeared for a moment, and then came back. She looked at Darcy, bit her lip and giggled. Then Darcy left and came back. I wondered what was going on.

"Big brother, we have a surprise for you," my sister said as she tossed a pair of panties into the tub having it land on my penis. Darcy tossed her pair at my face.

I looked at the panties and almost came at the sight of them. They were silky and lacy and very sexy.

"These are my sister's panties," Darcy explained. "Sometimes when I'm feeling naughty, I borrow a pair from her, usually on laundry day so she won't know they're missing. But this is easier. These are dirty ones she wore over the weekend. I wore them to school today. They felt so good against my skin. I just like the way they feel."

My sister added a, "Me too!"

I smiled at Darcy's statement. I was sure I was going to like the way they feel too.

I looked at the panties. They were stained. I sniffed one and then the other. They had a strong earthy scent. I didn't know if female emissions had pheromones in them but my reaction was like that of a male dog reacting to a bitch in heat. I had to ejaculate. I could not go on without doing it.

The panties had the full scent of an adult woman refreshed by the dampness and warmth of these two young girls. I had to control my breathing, I was getting dizzy from hyperventaling. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears, my temples were bulging, my eyes hurt and there was a cramping over my kidneys that belied the adrenaline pumping into my system. I knew of only one way to get release.

The girls slipped off their shoes and socks and sat on the side of the tub with bare feet on my body. They hiked up their skirts so I could get a better view. This is when the second shock hit me. I didn't get to see their panties; they weren't wearing any!

I could see the delicate clefts that was the signature of their sex. There was nothing more to it than simple folds of skin covered with a downy fuzz but to my mind it was a shrine at which I yearned to worship. Not one shrine, but two of them: shrines that were portals to the goddesses who bore them.

I grabbed my penis and pulled on it as in a physical mantra. I knew that I could only do this ever again unless it was an act of worship to my panty-bearing goddesses.