Saw Mill Ridge 3
By NAMB
modestnot@gmail.com
Copyright 2018 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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Saw Mill Ridge
[Day 3 – Patsy]
I woke up late and I woke up tired. Emily and I spent most
of the night talking to each other. Finally we heard one of the adults yell,
“Will you girls please be quiet and go to bed? Some of us want to go to sleep.”
We yelled back, “Sorry about that. We’ll be quiet.”
After that we turned off the light and got under the covers
with a flashlight to look at the magazines and whisper back and forth to each other.
We especially liked the one about female domination. I had no idea what time it
was when we finally got to sleep.
I woke up first and went to the kitchen where my mom and my
aunts were having coffee. “Where’s Emily?” Aunt Mary asked.
“Still sleeping.”
“Well, breakfast is over. We cooked and cleaned. If you want
something to eat, we have cereal and some fruit. That’s it. The diner doesn’t
open again until lunch,” she ended with a giggle.
“Cereal will be fine,” I replied. “Where is everybody?”
“Well, the men took off to go fishing. I’m surprised the
boys didn’t go with them. The boys seemed more interested in going hiking.”
I smiled. The boys took our threat seriously. I know they
wanted to go fishing by the small collection of fishing rods on the back porch.
I felt a little guilty. Emily and I would let them have their fishing trip if
they had just told us. We could have scheduled their performance until the
afternoon. We are patient girls.
Emily made her appearance, yawning and shuffling on her feet.
Her mom said, “Somebody get that girl some coffee!
What’s the matter, sweetie? Did you have a problem sleeping
last night? Is the bed comfortable enough?”
“It’s OK, mom. I’ll come alive with some coffee in me.”
“So, what did you girls do yesterday? You were gone all
morning?” my mom asked.
“We just went on a nature walk,” I responded. At the moment
I was the only part of the duo with an active brain so I would handle the
inevitable interrogation. “Nature walk” indeed! If they only knew what kind of
nature Emily and I were studying.
“It was nice to look at the flowers and the trees,” I went
on. “We even saw a deer and getting exercise felt good.”
“The boys said that they went on a hike too. Why didn’t you
go with them?”
I rolled my eyes, “Oh mom, they’re boys! They are not going
to stop and look at things like us girls do. Besides, Emily and I had our own
things to talk about: things we don’t want the boys to hear.”
Mom gave me a knowing smile, “Well that’s good. It’s nice
that you and Emily are getting along so well. So what are you plans for today?”
“I think we’ll do pretty much the same thing as yesterday.
We had so much fun.” Emily nearly spit out her coffee. I know what was going on
in her mind and it was dirty.
We finished breakfast and then took our showers together.
“I can’t wait to see the boys again today,” she confided.
“Me neither. I’m glad you showed me that web site in the
library yesterday. It’s given me some neat ideas.”
“Yes, and the magazine – you know the one with the woman with
the whip on the cover – that’s got a couple of things we’ve got to try too.”
I giggled, “The boys thought they were in trouble yesterday,
just wait until they see what we’ve got planned for them for the rest of our
stay.”
I could see Emily shiver. She turned her back to me and
started washing herself.
I giggled again, “I know what you are doing, girl. You don’t
have to hide it from me. Let’s do I together.”
She turned around. I soaped up and before we did anything
else, we stepped out from the sprays of our respective showerheads and
embraced. I felt her warm, soapy body on mine. We rubbed together and I felt a
tingle. Then we kissed.
This was no peck on the cheek or even simple lip-to-lip
contact. This was a full-out, literally tongue-in-the-other-girl’s-cheek, kiss.
I felt both tense and loose at the same time. Electricity flowed up and down my
spine sending lightning bolts of pleasure to my crotch. I knew if we kept at it
I would feel that special feeling I get when I play with myself. However, we
had many more things to accomplish today.
Reluctantly we broke apart and started fingering ourselves.
I looked at her and said, “No reason to let the boys have all the fun!” I
watched as she played with herself and she watched me. I made a mental note that
for tomorrow’s shower, we’d do each other.
We stopped only when the water started to become cold. From
outside the shower we heard, “Don’t use up all the hot water. Some of us also
want to take a shower.” Too late.
We dried off and walked to our room to get dressed. It was
nice to be able to walk around in just a towel. With the boys and men gone, we
could have walked out naked.
We got dressed and headed out to the schoolhouse. It was
already 10:05 when we left the cabin. I know we told the boys to meet us at 10
o’clock and as eager as we were to get the fun started, we decided that making
the boys wait on us enforced our domination over them.
“Domination!” That word has such an exciting ring to it,
especially when preceded by “Female.”
We took our time walking to the schoolhouse. Emily confided
in me, “Do you think we’re going too far with the boys? I mean, they are our
cousins and brothers.”
“Oh come on, Emily. Are we really hurting them? Sure, it’s
embarrassing for them but we’re not making them do anything they weren’t going
to do on their own. It’s just that we get to direct and watch the action.”
“Yeah, but I still feel bad for them.”
“Well, so do I, in a way. Let’s be sure to let them know
that we appreciate what they do for us. We’ll hug them and give them a kiss
after they perform and we’ll go out of our way to be nice to them even when
we’re not playing.”
“Well, I suppose we owe them that much.”
When we got there, we were disappointed. The boys were
there, but they still had their clothes on.
“What’s the matter with you boys?” I asked. “Didn’t we tell
you to be naked for us?”
“Show us that you deleted the pictures,” Brad demanded.
“OK, smarty pants, we were just about to do that! Come here,
we’ll show you.”
I brought up the pictures we had of the boys and showed
them.
“Oh shit, that’s me,” Ike said.
“Yes, we got good pictures of you all.”
“You’re going to delete them.” Brad said again.
As I showed the boys each picture, I deleted it. So did
Emily.
With the task completed, Brad said, “Now you have nothing on
us. We don’t have to do anything.”
“Then you don’t intend to live up to your end of the
bargain?” I said.
“What bargain? Do you boys know about any bargain?” Brad
mocked.
The boys shook their heads no.
“Well, at least Emily and I lived up to our end of the
bargain. We deleted the pictures from our phones. You do agree that they are
very incriminating pictures and you wouldn’t want anyone to see them?”
“Of course.”
“Well, in that case, I suggest you start getting undressed
now.”
Brad laughed, “Why should we?”
“Because,” I said and paused to let the word sink in. “While
you boys were running around town yesterday, Emily and I went to the library.”
“So?”
“They have Wi-Fi there. We mailed the pictures to our home
computers.”
“You little cheaters!” Brad barked.
“Who’s calling who a cheater? You’re the first one to renege
on the deal. Emily and I did exactly what you asked us to do – remove the
pictures from our phones. We said nothing about backing them up somewhere else.
Now get stripping now or we’ll have to give you all a spanking.”
I was angry, but I also was excited. There would have been a
certain satisfaction putting Mr. Big Boy, Brad, in his place under any
circumstance, but to do so in a sexual context was doubly satisfying.
Then I looked at the desk. There were four cans of beer on
it. “What’s that doing there?” I asked.
“That’s our beer,” Brad replied.
“Wrong again, shit-brain,” I corrected, “That’s not *your*
beer. It’s *our* - as in Emily and me – beer. You will give two cans to us and
return the other two to the creek for tomorrow.
Damn, it felt good ordering my older cousin around as if he
were some errant toddler who I was babysitting.
As the boys were getting undressed, Emily laid out the
rules. “Yesterday was fun, but today we’re going to have even more fun. In
fact, Patsy and I came up with a whole series of games and competitions you
boys can play for our amusement.
First we’ll start with measuring how big you are.”
Michael complained, “That’s not fair. I just turned 12, all
the boys are older and bigger than me. Brad’s almost 16.”
Emily smiled, “Well noted but I came across something on a
web site that will level the playing field so to speak. It’s a formula that’s
based both on the size of a boy’s penis measured in centimeters and the boy’s
age. It’s called the Spalding ratio or also known as the Spadifino ration or
even Angela’s ratio.
I looked up Angela Spadifino and there is such a woman, but
she’s a gynecologist. She wrote a book on child and adolescent sexuality. So
maybe that’s why she knows about penises The article ascribes the ratio to her.
It supposedly works for penises on boys aged 10 to 16. Let’s see how well it
works on you boys.”
Emily was the math whiz in the family. She went on to
explain it, but she just as well could have been speaking Swahili for all I
could understand of it.
“You take the length of the penis in centimeters and add 23.
Then you divide that number by 0.1 times the boy’s age squared plus four times
the boy’s age. It should come out to a number close to one.”
Fortunately, we had a meter stick with metric on one side
and inches on the other. It seemed ludicrous to be measuring something the size
of a teen boy’s penis with an instrument so long, but it’s what we had.
“Michael,” she said, “you’re first.”
“Why do I always have to be first?”
“Because you are the youngest and also you’re my brother so
I like to pick on you.”
Emily held the end of the meterstick against the top of his
penis where it met his belly, I slid a card flush against the stick underneath
until it just touched the tip of his penis. According to what we read, that’s
how medical people measure the length of the organ.
I read off the measurement: “11 centimeters (4.3 in).” I
wrote his name and the measurement on the blackboard. Next up was Greg. He
clocked in at 11.8 centimeters (4.6 in).
Ike measured out at 12.3 (4.8 in) and Brad was an impressive
14.6 (5.7 in).
“OK, number crunching time,” Emily announced as she brought
up the calculator app on her phone. She poked in the numbers like a pro and
called off the results.
Michael, 11 centimeters, age 12 – that comes out to 1.01.
Greg, 11.8 centimeters, age 13.25 – that comes out to 0.98.
Ike, 12.3 centimeters, age 13.5 – that comes out to 0.99
And finally, Brad, 14.6 centimeters, age 15.75 – that comes
out to 0.98”
“Well, I’ll be darned,” I said as I recorded the final
score. “The ratio does work! And it looks like our littlest boy has the biggest
penis considering his age.”
“Let me tell you boys how we are going to score this and
this will apply to every contest.
First place boy gets four points, second place three points,
third place two points, fourth place one point and if a boy is a no-finish, he
gets zero points.
So that’s four points for Michael, three for Ike and since
there is a tie for third, Greg and Brad get two points each.”
I was looking forward what Emily and I referred to as the
masturbathon: days and days of penis competition to be judged by us girls.
[Day 3 – Emily]
I could never have imagined how great it could feel to be a
girl!
Pasty and I stayed up late into the night chatting about the
events of the day.
As we walked to the schoolhouse, she said, “Can you believe
it,” she said. “We got four teenaged boys or almost teenage in case of my
brother, and they have to do everything we say.”
“You got that right. This is going to be our best vacation
ever.”
“Maybe not. There’s next year and the boys will be even
bigger then.”
We got there and after a little haggling with the boys – and
not just a little bit of blackmail, we had them naked. I hated to delete the
pictures from my phone even though we did have them backed up “back home.” But
it was probably just as well. I now had more memory for even more pictures.
I asked Patsy to help me measure the boys and as they were
getting out the magazines she giggled, “The next time I put on my ‘Girl Power’
sweat shirt, I’m going to think about this. I mean, they just stood there and
took it as we handled their dicks and measured how big they were.”
“Did you just say dick? Did I hear you say dick?”
“Of course, girl. We’re not in biology class any more. Let’s
call it what it is: dick, cock, prick ... whatever.”
It was my turn to giggle, “I suppose you’re right. We are a
couple of slutty, dirty, little girls.”
Patsy’s idea to turn it into a series of contests just made
it more fun.
She let me tell the boys about the latest idea we cooked up
the following day. Between what I knew from the web site, and what we learned
from the magazines, we got a lot of good ideas.
“Our next contest,” I announced to the naked crowd of boys,
“is pretty much the same thing as what you boys did for us yesterday with the
following twist: we’ll be timing it. The boy with the fastest time is the winner.
But there is one more thing: we’ll tell you when to start
and you have to play with yourself for five minutes, but if you cum during that
time, it’s a forfeit and you get zero points. We’ll let you know when you have
one minute left, 30 seconds and then give you a 10-second countdown. Timing to
see how fast you can cum starts at zero. You can look at any magazine you want.
Michael!” The boy looked at me with a frown. “You’re not
first this time. We’ll rotate the contests, so Greg gets the pole position this
time and you’re last.”
Gee, it felt so good ordering the boys around.
“OK Greg, assume the position.” The position was with him
standing facing the class and his magazine on the table facing the front desk.
I took out my phone and snapped a picture of him.
“Hey!” he complained.
“Hey, what?” I shot back, “You saw the pictures we already
have of you. They’re good: they show what you were doing and who you are, but
they won’t win any awards.
So, Patsy and I are going to get some really good shots of
you boys doing all kinds of things. Don’t worry about it; you’re not in any
more trouble than you already are. Play nice with Patsy and me and we can be
very reasonable.”
I warned him, “You may want to stand off to the side a bit.
It’s up to you, but I don’t think you want to ejaculate all over the magazine.”
Patsy was to be the time keeper. She looked at her watch,
she reminded him, “This will be for the five-minute warm-up. – Ready – Set –
Go!”
Greg was off and jerking at a moderate pace at first. He
seemed to pick it up at the three-minute point and then slacked off when she
announced, “one minute.”
“Thirty seconds.”
“10” at this point Greg started to pump in earnest. “9, 8,
7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 – GO!”
His hand seemed to blur up and down his shaft. He stared at
a picture of a woman giving a blow job to two men. It’s not my favorite, but
some sacrifices must be made in the name of athletic competition.
Greg started breathing heavier. I couldn’t tell if it was
from physical exertion or sexual excitement. He tossed back his head and
started grunting. It would not be long now. I looked at Patsy and pointed to my
wrist reminding her to keep an eye on her watch. I had no idea how close the
competition would be and didn’t know if every second would count.
Greg held his breath and then exploded with a strangled yell
and a burst of semen. I called out “TIME!” Patsy noted it on her watch.
“One minute 52 seconds,” she announced.
We recorded the time next to his name on the board.
We called up Ike next, then Brad and then Michael.
Ike actually had some swagger as he came up to the desk,
“You call that a cum. Watch this, guys!”
Patsy timed his warm-up and he seemed to be more aggressive
than Greg had been. In fact, he was in full masturbation mode by the time she
called “30 seconds” and crossed the starting line at full speed. He came in an
even minute.
“Brad, you’re next,” I said, calling him from the “on deck
circle.”
Brad took 2 and a half minutes. He seemed to have a problem
just keeping it hard. Emily and I wondered if performance anxiety had anything
to do with it.
Last up was Michael who, amidst a lot of bushing, came in at
a minute and 45 seconds.
“Good show, boys,” I was happy to announce looking at the
pools of cum on the floor in front of the desk. It’s a wood floor, unfinished,
the cum will probably do it some good.
So that’s 4 points for Ike, 3 for Michael, 2 for Greg and 1
for Brad.”
Patsy read off the scoreboard, “After the end of the second
competition, it’s 3 points for Greg and three-way tie for first place between
Brad, Ike and Michael at 6 points each”
[Day 3 – Michael]
“Stand still, Michael,” is what she said. What could I do? I
had to let them put the ruler up to my penis and measure it. I tried to shut my
eyes and make it all go away.
What’s worse is that I knew I was the shortest boy in the
room, but to actually put a number on it?
Patsy read off the measurement, “11 centimeters.” I didn’t
know what that meant, but it didn’t sound very big.
“Don’t worry about it, Michael. We have a formula that
compensates for age,” Emily explained.
It made me feel a little bit better, but not by much.
I my spirits sank as Patsy measured off ever increasing
centimeters of penis.
Emily giggled as she looked at the board, “Not bad. Between the
four of you boys, you have nearly a half meter of penis.”
Then she worked her magic, punching keys on the calculator
on her phone.
I can’t believe it; I actually won the size contest! That
made me feel a little bit better about what was going on. It did not make up at
all for the embarrassment of being naked for a couple of clothed girls, but it
made me feel better than the other boys.
I was also relieved not to be first for the jerk-off
competition. That is, until the girls explained the rules. Masturbation is
supposed to be fun; it’s not supposed to have rules.
There was also the anticipation of having to wait my turn.
It’s the same principle as getting a spanking. Knowing for hours that you are
going to get a spanking is often worse than the spanking itself.
I watched my cousins perform feeling embarrassed both for
them and for my entire gender. The girls really seemed to feed off our
humiliation. I don’t know what I was going to do when we got home. I had to
face my sister every day. At least here she’s tied up with Patsy and I get to
escape, at least for a while with my male cousins.
“OK, Michael,” Emily said, “It’s your turn. Get your butt up
on the desk and spread your legs apart. That’s a good boy. Wait a minute. Hold
that position. I got to get a picture of you like that.”
Patsy stood by patiently as my sister got her pictures and
with a nod from Emily she looked at her watch. “Ready, ready, GO!” she
announced and I started jerking.
She knew she had four more minutes before she had to give me
the first warning, so she picked up her phone and got some good shots of me
with my hand my dick.
I really didn’t know what to do with my 5-minute warmup. On
the one hand, I wanted to be good and excited so that when Patsy said, “go” I’d
be ready. Ike had managed that.
On the other hand, I was afraid to cum too soon. I decided
to play it safe and jerked moderately. I stayed safely away from the edge.
“One minute,” Patsy said, “... 30 seconds ... 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.
GO!”
I was off and jerking like the rest of my cousins, pounding
away with all the speed my hand and wrist could muster. Normally I like to take
my time and enjoy the sensations, but in this case, I was in an all-out
dick-sprint to cum as fast as possible.
When I finally did cum, it was enjoyable enough, but I would
have preferred it to have been on my terms and not terms dictated by a couple
of 12-year-old girls.
[Day 3 – Greg]
I felt funny having to jerk off for the girls. I was
“leadoff batter” and that sort of gave me a thrill. I was the one who would set
the pace for the other boys to follow.
I tried to joke about it, “OK guys, now pay attention. Let
me show you what to do.”
Being the first, I had no pattern on which to model. Should
I jerk it fast and risk cumming prematurely or should I hold back and break out
of the gate, accelerating to a gallop. I started off with some gusto and I felt
myself approaching orgasm, so I backed off and let myself slip back from the
brink.
Patsy said, “go” and I was off and masturbating.
I looked at my audience. Patsy had one eye on me and the
other on her watch. Emily was snapping pictures. I hope I was giving her a good
show.
The boys were watching me, apparently taking mental notes.
It sort of turned me on to have so many eyes on me as I did
it. It didn’t matter that some were boy-eyes and some were girl-eyes.
I went to my task and soon felt that familiar tingling
sensation and tightening of the abdomen that announced an impending orgasm. I
felt myself peak sexually and drove right through it. I was lost in the spasms
of ejaculation and could barely hear Patsy call out my time.
“Ike, you’re next,” I heard one of the girls say. I was
still too dazed to pay attention.
It took me quite a while to recover and Ike was half way
through his warm-up jerkoff by the time I could focus. I noticed that he still
did that ball jiggling thing I saw him do yesterday. I suppose that wasn’t just
for fun; he was also doing it in competition.
“Oh my GOD,” I heard Emily say as I watched Ike spew his
sperm almost immediately. She pleaded with her sister-in-crime, “Patsy, time.
Time!”
“60 seconds - even.”
Brad was up next and having the biggest dick and the biggest
balls in the room, I expected big things of him.
I offered him some encouragement, “Come on, big guy. You can
do this.”
I enjoyed watching him stroke that monster between his legs,
but was disappointed in the cum. He seemed to cum a lot, but the spurts were
weak compared to Greg and Ike and if I must say so, even me.
Little Michael was up last. The poor boy probably felt
outgunned by us bigger guys. However, his penis had a certain cuteness to it
that made it appealing. I was surprised at how well he handled it and wondered
when he started masturbating and how often he did it.
He had his shot, in reasonable time. It wasn’t the furthest
shot and it probably was the least amount of cum of any of our loads, but he
did well.
He outperformed Brad and that must have given him some
solace. I added my two cents, “Atta boy Michael. You did good.” Us boys had to
stick together.
[Day 3 – Ike]
Watching my cousins jerk off for the girls was sort of like
watching a train wreck; you know you don’t want to see it, but you have to
look.
I watched as Greg masturbated to a time table; the girls
marking off the seconds as he went through his motions.
What made it worse was that as soon as he was done, I would
be next.
The boy performed magnificently, he put on a good show for
his female audience and I hoped I could do as well.
I watched with fascination as he climaxed and Patsy called
off his time.
Emily, who seemed to be playing Mistress of Ceremonies
called off, “Well done, Greg. Nice one!” as she gave him a peck on his cheek.
She was gracious at least. The girls were obviously enjoying
what they were making us do, but they were not rubbing it in and short of not
making us do things at all, they were trying to make it as nice for us as
possible.
“Ike, you’re next. Assume the position.”
I took the position and became very aware of how open and
vulnerable the position was.
Patsy gave me the go-ahead and I started manipulating my
penis and balls. I noticed that when Greg masturbated, he looked at what he was
doing and the other boys were watching him.
I found the girls’ reactions interesting. I could see how
their faces lit up whenever something was happening. I could read some
apprehension as well, but they seemed to overcome it. Maybe it was because
there were two of them and they supported each other. I know I took some
comfort of not being the only boy doing these embarrassing things.
So as I did it, I looked at the girls’ faces. They certainly
weren’t looking at mine. I could easily see their focus on my penis. Emily even got down on a knee to take a
picture from underneath. Brave girl. That was like going down the caldera of a
volcano about to erupt.
I was the one who was masturbating, but I was doing it not
with my will, but with the will of the girls. They were the ones who were in
charge. It might have been my muscle and my sinew that was jerking on my penis,
it might have been my fingers that were tickling my balls but the brain that
issued the commands was in control of the girls.
I felt like a marionette, dancing on a set of strings,
jerked by them for their amusement. But instead of a dance, it was the most
private and shameful act a boy can perform.
I went on mechanically like someone else was controlling my
body. I could feel the sexual tension arising in my body; tension caused by the
physical stimulation of my penis with my hand and the mental knowledge that it
was not for my pleasure that I was doing this, but for the pleasure and
enjoyment of the girls. I could see the finish line in front of me and Patsy
hadn’t even called “go” yet. Once she did, it was a full-out sprint to the
tape.
I was quickly approaching my points of no return. There are
two points in a boy’s masturbation that are beyond the point of no return. One
of them is psychological: it is theoretically possible to stop ejaculation at
this point. I don’t think there is a boy on earth who can stop pumping once he
reaches this point. The second point is physiological: orgasm will occur even
if all stimulation is stopped.
Normally these two peaks are reached a second or maybe even
several seconds apart. In the presence of the girls, they happened
simultaneously. Orgasm was upon me before I even I was ready for it.
As I came down from the cloud to which my ejaculation kicked
me, I looked at the girls for their approval. They were smiling. I hope I
pleased them.
“Oh wow,” Patsy said. She had barely the wit to record my
time. I looked over at Emily. Her eyes were sparkling. Yes, I did good. I put
on a good performance for them. For some reason, I wanted to be their favorite
boy.
I continued to watch the girls as first my brother and then
Michael masturbated for them.
[Day 3 – Brad]
As we were waiting around for the girls, I tried to rally my
troops. “Look guys, we have to soldier through this. I’ll get them to delete
the pictures and then we’re off the hook.”
I felt confident when the girls arrived. I was shocked and
embarrassed when they showed me the pictures they had of us. I was relieved
when I watched them delete them.
We were free!
Then they told us that they had backed up the pictures.
Those sneaky little bitches! I hated being outsmarted by a couple of little
girls, but I always knew Emily was smart. This had to be her idea.
They demanded we get undressed for them. My boys were in
shock.
“Give us some time,” I pleaded.
“You got two minutes,” Emily said. “We’ll wait outside. If
you’re not naked by the time we get back in, you’ll regret it.
I had to recover my dignity and that of my fellow
gender-mates. “The girls got the goods on us, but that doesn’t mean we have to
do everything they say.”
“What do you mean?” Greg asked. “They got pictures. They’ll
show them.”
“Of course we can’t flat-out refuse to obey them, but we
don’t have to totally surrender either. You can do it, but you don’t have to
like doing it.”
My brother laughed, “I don’t know cumming is a lot of fun.”
“Maybe for you,” I snarled back, “but not when I’m doing it
for a couple of little girls.
Try not to be so enthusiastic about it. Let’s just do it and
get it over with.”
I could not believe that this was happening to me. I was the
senior male in the family, at least of my generation. I was a boy and I was the
oldest and I should be the one in charge.
Instead, the youngest of us and girls at that were in charge
of *my* boys, telling them what to do and directing their activities.
Not only were they ordering my boys around, they were
ordering me around. What choice did I have? They had pictures of us. I
certainly couldn’t let those pictures get out at school. The girls would laugh
at me and I’d never get a date. Worse yet, the boys would never respect me.
I worked hard to get to my social standing at school and now
my little cousins are threatening to take me down with just a couple of
pictures. I could not risk that. So here I was yesterday, naked before them,
jerking off for them and having to look at their smiling faces as I did it.
I had to accept my humiliation and hoped it was temporary. I
don’t know how devious the girls could be but once we left camp, I vowed to
stay away from them as much as possible. I pity Michael; he has to live with
his sister. I am sure she’ll torture him every chance she gets.
The girls came back in as we were undressing.
Emily said, “From now on, Brad, make sure your boys are
naked and our beer is waiting for us when we get here.” At least she
acknowledged my right to issue orders to my boys even though it was clear it
was under her authority.
The girls put both Greg and Ike through their paces and then
it was my turn. It came up faster than I expected since Ike came almost as soon
as he got his rear end on the desk.
Emily pointed to me and then to the desk saying, “Brad.
Butt.” It wasn’t even complete sentences, but I knew what she meant.
As I took my turn on the desk, I decided to the best of my
ability to shut out the rest of the world and concentrate entirely on masturbating
myself.
The pressure was on. I had a task to perform for the girls.
Under normal circumstances, it would have been a pleasant task, but not when so
tightly regulated and controlled as it was now. I had to jerk off for them and
I had to produce sperm and what’s more, I had to show them – all of them – that
I was the alpha male. If us boys were relegated to second class status by the
girls then I at least had to prove I was the best of the boys.
I was somewhat distracted by these thoughts during my 5-minute
preparatory jerk off. Even the magazines weren’t doing anything for me. Patsy
called “go” and I was barely hard.
I saw how fast my brother came and I was determined to beat
him. I pounded my penis so hard and so fast, it was painful, but I had to do
what was necessary to beat my brother. He never lets me forget that I lost to
him in any competition.
I didn’t have a watch to look at so I had no idea of the
time, but I had a sense that time was dragging. I was losing, but had no idea
by how much. That thought made me jerk even harder and faster. I came and was
disappointed when Pasty called off, “Two and a half minutes.”
My God! That was more than double my brother’s time. My
spirits fell even more when the girls posted the time on the board and I saw
that mine was the worst.
I tried to explain myself, “I’m more mature than you boys; I
have control over my body. I cum when I want and not a moment sooner.”
I got a “Yeah, sure.” from my brother. Michael and Greg said
nothing.
“OK boys,” Emily announced, “time to clean up you messes and
then get dressed.”
Patsy added, “I understand you boys gave up fishing to be
here today. That’s very sweet of you. I understand that our dads are going out
again tomorrow. You are welcome to join them. Just be here when you get back.
Be here and this time be naked like we asked and don’t
forget our beers.”
Well, at least I’m going to get something out of this trip.
I managed to show some gratitude, “Thanks, Emily, Patsy.”
(End of File)