Owen’s Helping Hand Part 1

By Nocti Raven

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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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This story is set in the Puericil Universe, which was created by Cassie. Puericil itself was her invention, and this story’s portrayal of the drug adheres to the description Cassie provided in the first instalment of the “It’s Not Fair” series.

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My family moved when I was 14, so I started high school at a whole new neighbourhood. It was a pretty well-off neighbourhood without a lot of real estate activity, so the kids at school weren’t used to new blood. It’s kind of awkward jumping into the social scene at a school like that. Everyone already knows each other, and they don’t plan to go into friend-making mode till college. As a result, on my first day, the only guys who’d sit with me at lunch were a trio I’d heard people call the “Poo Boys.”

“Not P-O-O,” one of them said to me, setting down his sandwich to answer my request for an explanation. “P-U. As in Puericil.”

“So you’re the Puericil Boys? Why . . . oh! No way, are you telling me you’re the only guys at this whole school who take Puericil?”

“Yep,” he answered. “Well, probably. There’s a couple of seniors that look like they might be on it, but that’s it. Pretty much everyone quits after 7^th or 8^th grade.”

I was a little shocked. In my old neighbourhood it was common knowledge that about half of the male population was on the pill, and most of them stayed on it until they were 21. Not me, of course. My parents suggested it back when it came out, but even at 7 years old I was such a smooth-talking smart-ass that I’d convinced them I didn’t need it. Said it was for bullies and delinquents, not good boys like me.

The boy who’d spoken returned to his sandwich. He was small and very skinny. His friend was more average, a little taller than me, and admittedly better built, but that’s not saying much as I’m kind of skinny myself. I noticed, since the three of us were all wearing t-shirts, that I was the only guy at the table with arm hair. Even my light brown, almost invisible arm hair stood out in this crowd.

“I’m Owen,” I said.

“I’m Ethan,” said the smaller guy, “and this is Alex.”

Alex smiled ironically. “Sorry.”

“For what?”

“Sorry the only guys who’ll sit with you are hairless losers.”

I laughed, but he didn’t. He wasn’t really joking.

So those were my new friends at my new school. Frankly they weren’t at all what I’d had in mind. The opposite, in fact. I had high hopes for high school. I’d imagined popularity, parties, a girlfriend. I had promised myself I would lose my virginity in high school, and not be one of those losers who goes off to college wondering what it’s like to have someone else jerk you off. I’d always figured being off Puericil gave me an advantage. I wasn’t a big athlete, but at least I was more man than half the guys in school . . . back then, anyway. Now it seemed I was only manlier than these two guys. Indeed, nearly every other guy seemed bigger than me. Those that were my height were compact and athletic, and sported an impressive coat of leg hair revealed by their baggy board shorts. Even off the pill, even with all my testosterone flowing naturally, I still couldn’t compete with most of these guys.

At least I assumed the difference was testosterone. Exactly how Puericil does what it does is a well-kept secret, but it only makes sense. . .

As I sat there in that school cafeteria, looking at all the teenagers roaming around, getting the depressing feeling that there was no way I’d ever find a girlfriend, an idea popped into my head. I kind of surprised myself with it, as it was not only brilliant but diabolical. Perhaps evil, in fact. The Pu Boys were the butt of many a joke around here, and more than occasionally had their pants pulled down in the halls, so I felt kind of bad thinking of a plan that would hurt them . . . but hurting them would make me just like everyone else, like the cool kids. Sure, I’d lose the only two friends I had, but I’d have a story to tell that would make me the most badass popular son of a bitch in school. I’d be respected, even admired. Maybe even cool enough to snare a lady friend. Right then and there I decided that I would do it.

Over the next two weeks I spent more time with the Pu Boys, getting to know them and earning their trust. We spent most of that time playing video games at Ethan’s house, which was fun, but I think they did it too much. I wished more and more that these guys would go play a sport like normal guys, but that was out of the question. Sports brought back too many bad memories. The jocks were the guys who pantsed them in the hallways. The locker room before gym class was where guys flashed their bushes, just to show that they had them.

And that was just the beginning of their whining. They whined a lot about getting bullied at school. They whined a lot about how they wished they had pubes. They whined a lot about how they were certain that their social status, general happiness level, and luck with the ladies would skyrocket if they could just quit the damn Puericil. Despite that, I personally witnessed them taking it, without any reluctance or hesitation, without a word of complaint, on numerous occasions. They invited me to their sleepovers, which basically meant video games until 10 PM, then watching porn and whining about how they wished they could do what they saw on the computer screen until midnight, and then going to bed, because they had to wake up early to take their Puericil. “You have to be regular,” Ethan’s mother explained to me. “That’s just the way it works.”

That was a lie, of course. I knew enough Puericil-users to know that you don’t have to take it at the same time every day for it to work. In fact, you can even miss a day or two without feeling any reduction in the effects. Ethan’s mom just told me that so I wouldn’t hear what she perceived to be an embarrassing secret, which the guys later revealed to me. A year ago the four parents had decided the two were mature enough to self-administer their own Puericil, needing only each other as a reminder. They “betrayed” this trust and stopped taking the drug outright. A month later, the parents began to notice leg hair and they figured it out. Taking the pill has been a parent-supervised regular activity ever since.

I thought they were really dumb for that. If they had just taken the stuff by themselves, their parents probably would have let them quit by now as a reward for showing such responsibility and maturity. That confirmed the suspicion I’d been forming based on my “friends’” academic performance so far: they were really not that bright. That made me realize that my plan would be even easier to carry out than I’d though.

On the third weekend since the start of school, I told the Pu Boys I couldn’t attend the usual sleepover. No, I didn’t voice my disappointment in their pathetic sleepover agenda. I just said I had a family dinner to attend that would take me out of town for the weekend. Ethan and Alex never came to my house, so there was no way for them to find out that I was lying. I really just spent those two days at home, catching up on homework and jacking off to porn. That was what I found most disgusting about The Pu Boys’ sleepovers: they watched porn for two hours, but they were too shy to whip out their dicks and masturbate. I mean, who does that? They’re best friends, and they’ve seen each other’s dicks a hundred times, whenever they’ve been pantsed at school, so what’s the big deal?

On the Monday I put my plan into action. When lunch time came, we met at our usual table in the cafeteria and I delivered some interesting news.

“Guys,” I said, leaning over and speaking excitedly. “I think I’ve found a way to get you guys out from under the shadow of Puericil.”

They both looked at me with confusion, then they looked at each other, and then back to me.

“What do you mean?” Alex said.

“I mean I’ve thought of a way to get you off it. You can convince your parents you’ve outgrown it so you can grow up and get laid.”

Those last two words sealed the deal in their minds, I think. No matter how crazy they’d thought the idea was, they were listening raptly. Naturally they still suffered from their delusion that Puericil was the only thing standing between them and a whole lot of pussy. If they were smarter they might have realized that I was living proof of that delusion’s idiocy. I’d never been on the pill, and I was as desperately virginal as they were.

“How the hell can you do that?” Ethan demanded.

I looked to the left and to the right, making it look like I had a big secret that no one could be allowed to overhear. “At that family dinner this weekend, I talked to my uncle, who’s a biochemist. He told me there’s something you can take to counteract Puericil, to continue taking it but render it ineffective.”

Both Pu Boys looked a little confused again.

“You mean we’d keep taking the pills,” Ethan said, “but we’d still grow hair and stuff?”

I nodded. “That’s right. If your parents see you’re growing body hair even though you still take Puericil, they’ll figure you’ve outgrown it and let you quit. I mean, you’re old enough anyway. This’ll just show them.”

And believe it or not, they bought that. They’re not too bright, but they’re not complete morons; I think they were capable of seeing how it might not go the way I said it would. But they were blinded by desperation and ambition. They were so certain that getting off Puericil would lead to sex that they were willing to anything to get there, even believing my stupid advice.

So they came over to my house after school. I’d implied that my uncle’s secret anti-Puericil compound was such a deeply classified secret that I couldn’t even say what it was at school, much less bring it out of my house. They followed me home eagerly, curious. My parents both work late, so there was virtually no way that Ethan and Alex could discover that I hadn’t been away that weekend.

I led them up to my room, which was pretty well lived in after three weeks. It was a pretty regular 14-year-old guy’s room: messy, with clothes scattered about and an unmade bed. The only things my room had that theirs didn’t were old sports trophies and posters with hot girls. They weren’t athletic enough for the former or bold enough for the latter. I reclined on my bed, leaning against the wall, while they remained standing. They were looking around dumbly, probably searching for a pill bottle or a syringe, something they could take to neutralize their Puericil. Unfortunately for them, none of my uncles is really a biochemist.

A funny little way to test their devotion popped into my head. “Okay guys, I need you to strip naked.”

“What?” said Alex. “Why?”

I sighed condescendingly. “My uncle said this stuff only works against genuine Puericil-brand Puericil. If you’re on one of the knock-off brands, it won’t work. He told me how to tell which you’re on, but I can only tell if you’re naked.”

They looked at each other again, then shrugged, together deciding it was worth it. Then, of course, they looked away from each other quickly. Eyes on the ground, they stripped off all their clothes, even their socks. Unlike much of the student body, I actually hadn’t seen the Pu Boys’ dicks before. Amusingly, their dick sizes were kind of opposite their body sizes. Alex was almost laughably small, probably not much more than an inch and a half. That was just soft, of course, but still pretty small. It was a wonder he actually wanted pubes; they’d only make him look even smaller. Ethan, on the other hand, was respectably big for a guy with such a small frame. Three, maybe even four inches. I was about the same, but it actually looked more impressive on a guy his size.

They stood there naked for a second before they ended up awkwardly looking at each other, then they quickly covered themselves and stared at the floor. Alex was blushing red as ketchup with embarrassment. I guess with a dick that small, no number of public pantsings ever makes it easier.

I was practically giddy over how tightly I had these guys wrapped around my little finger.

“Great,” I said. “You guys look like you’re on the real stuff. The knockoff Puericil gives you little blue freckles around your nipples and your junk.”

They nodded, eating up my complete bullshit like the complete chumps that they are. There’s no such thing as cheap imitation Puericil. Only one company produces it, and it’s dirt cheap, so there’d be no market for a knockoff.

“Just so you guys know,” I said, “this is what you stand to gain.” And with that I slid my jeans and boxers down over my thighs, knees, shins and sock-covered feet. I sat kind of spread eagle so they could see my whole package, brown bush and all. It wasn’t the darkest, densest bush, but it was a fucking rosebush compared to what the Pu Boys had. They both stared, eyes wide with envy. I thought it would be weird, but I was actually very flattered by how awestruck they looked as their gazes swept up and down my legs, taking in every tiny little hair. Yep, I may not have been the manliest man at school, but to these guys I was masculinity incarnate. And I couldn’t even grow a moustache.

“So, uh, where’s the stuff?” Ethan asked.

I settled back into a comfortable reclining position, keeping my junk visible, of course. “Okay, you have to understand why Puericil has the effect it has on you. Basically, it’s all about the hormone called testosterone. Testosterone is what makes you be assertive and aggressive, and grow hair on your body. Basically all the things Puericil prevents.” I’d actually looked this up online and I knew I giving a lot of bullshit, but neither Ethan nor Alex was a science wiz, let alone studious enough to study this kind of biology. So they just went ahead believing me.

“So . . .” Alex ventured, “Puericil breaks down testosterone?”

“Not exactly. Puericil contains two chemicals. The first one is like anti-testosterone, basically it undoes what testosterone does. It makes your hair fall out and stop growing, and it makes you submissive. But your body naturally produces testosterone all the time, so much that it should completely overpower the anti-testosterone. That’s why the second chemical stops testosterone production. Once your balls stop making testosterone, the anti-testosterone can do its job. Do you see what I’m getting at?”

Again the Pu Boys exchanged a look, each confirming that the other was as confused as he.

I sighed. “All you need to take is testosterone. If you get enough testosterone in your body, it’ll override the anti-testosterone. Then you’ll be right back on track to manhood.”

“So do you have testosterone pills or something?” Ethan asked.

I shook my head. “Don’t need pills. See, I’m not on Puericil, so my body still produces testosterone naturally. My balls generate plenty of it every day.”

“So what are we supposed to do,” Ethan said, “suck your blood like a vampire?”

“Not my blood . . .”

At last it sank in. Horror seemed to splash them in the face. “Ew!” Ethan cried, and Alex said “No way!”

“Guys, it’s simple biology. Balls make testosterone, and balls make semen. Cum is more loaded with testosterone than orange juice is with vitamin C. Well, my cum anyway. Not yours. The antidote for Puericil is right here.” I indicated my crotch like a salesman directing customers to a fancy car. Then I began idly playing with my shaft, just for fun.

“I’m not gay,” Ethan snapped defensively.

“It’s not gay,” I replied. “Not if you’re just doing it to get the testosterone. Think about it, Ethan. This is all so you can grow hair and be aggressive and get girls. How could anything with such a manly goal possibly be gay?”

“Still,” said Alex, “I don’t want to suck your dick. Couldn’t you just jack off into a cup and then we drink it?”

I smirked, excited that he’d already accepted the idea of eating my jizz. “Afraid not. My uncle was clear about that. Testosterone reacts with open air, becoming inert and useless. It has to go directly from inside my body to inside yours if you want it to work.”

“Well,” said Alex, “couldn’t you just jack off for a while, and then we’ll . . . put our mouths on it when you’re about to come?”

“Come on, Owen, you can’t argue with that,” Ethan said.

“Actually, I can. See, guys, you’re my friends. I like you guys, so I’m doing you the favour of offering you my cum. I don’t have to; I choose to. But I’d like to get something in return. And that something is a blow job.”

They were silent, probably thinking hard about whether this was worth it, maybe even questioning whether getting off Puericil could really get them laid. I decided to renew their faith in that assumption.

“Guys, you’ve got good bodies. With a little hair in the right places and a little attitude adjustment, you guys will definitely get some girls. I swear to God, Alex, that dick will jump from boy sized to man sized just as soon as you get past this shitty drug.”

That was what it took. Alex looked longingly at Ethan, begging him to accept my offer with his eyes, and the he just turned to me and said, “I’ll do it.” Ethan looked a little hurt that his friend had decided to go ahead without waiting for him to weigh in, but he quickly got over it and joined him. “Me too.”

I nodded, grinning. “Awesome. Just wait and see, guys. You’ll be real men in not too long.”

“Not too long?” Ethan said. “How long does this take? How many times to we have to . . . do this?”

I pretended to concentrate very hard. “If I recall correctly, because my uncle actually calculated this, if you suck my dick three times a week, effective testosterone levels should build up in your bodies in about a month.”

They blinked a couple of times as they worked through the calculation.

“That’s like twelve blow jobs each!” Ethan said.

“Yeah,” I said, as if it were obvious. “And that’s just to get enough in you for this to actually start working. Once your hair’s started growing you can cut it down to one blow job per week for maintenance.”

“For how long?” Alex said.

“Until you stop taking Puericil, of course. If you stop eating my cum, your body will run out of testosterone and the anti-testosterone will start working again. You’ve each got to blow me at least once a week, until you can convince your parents to let you stop taking the pills.”

Alex sighed and looked to Ethan. “How long do you think it’ll take?”

“Who knows?” Ethan replied. “But I guess it’s worth it in the end.”

“Think about it, guys,” I said. “What’s the worst case scenario? For whatever reason, your parents don’t get the message and they keep you on Puericil, so you keep sucking my dick to counteract it. I’d say that’s small price to pay for the fact that you’ll be spending your sleepovers with hot naked girls instead of each other.”

And that was it. I had them. I expected them to hesitate for at least another minute, but within ten seconds Ethan said, “So how are we going to do this? You said three times a week, but can we get all three over with today?”

I shook my head. Ethan was as insensitive as he was gullible. I don’t know about him, but my dick gets pretty tender and sore after three or four orgasms in a day, let alone the six he’d just suggested. Fortunately there was a perfectly logical deflection for that as well.

“Nope, that won’t work. One orgasm drains your balls dry, and it takes time to build up the supply again. My uncle was clear on this part: I need a 24-hour refraction period after each blow job if you want to get a full dose each time. I figure we can set up a basic schedule. Ethan, you suck me off every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Alex, you do it every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday. And I’ll just have to go back to boring old masturbation on Sunday.”

Amusingly, they both looked awkwardly at the ground when I said the word ‘masturbation.’ Here were two naked guys, with half-naked me, talking about how they were going to give me blowjobs, and they’d watched porn together weekly for, like, five years, and they still got embarrassed at the mention of jacking off. God, these guys were pathetic!

I scooted forward so I was sitting on the edge of the bed, and spread my legs. Ethan may not have been the brightest bulb out there, but he was smart enough to know it was Monday, and all that that implied. The little shrimp was so short that when he knelt beneath my legs, he couldn’t reach. Fortunately my desk chair has a height-adjuster knob, so I came right down to his level. True to his earlier statement, Ethan was certainly not gay; he practically winced with disgust as he took my dick into his mouth. I was already rock hard with anticipation, and extra sensitive. And despite his reluctance, Ethan did the job well. No teeth, just warm, slimy tissue and suction all around my member.

My first blow job was everything I wanted it to be except for two things. Firstly, I’d always hoped it would be from a girl, but this was forgivable. Guy or girl, mouths are all the same. Secondly, it was over way too fast. I’d been more ready than I thought I was, more excited than even I was really aware of. Ethan had only made one good up-and-down head motion before I tensed up and exploded inside his mouth. And he took the whole thing seriously, reaping his reward for this terrible sacrifice. The way he licked and sucked up every drop of my cum felt really, really good.

I also liked that neither of them put their clothes back on until Ethan was done. Technically they could have gotten dressed as soon as I said the stuff about the blue freckles, because I really didn’t have any bullshit to keep them naked after that. But they stayed naked, and having them naked felt good. I liked being able to look from my hairy crotch to their hairless ones. I like how even though I was wearing nothing but a t-shirt, I was still more clothed than they were. And, of course, since they had initially stripped at my prompting, it reinforced just how much power I’d gained over these two.

So now I had a whole month of blow jobs to look forward to. And that was more than enough. When the month was up and they were still hairless babies, they’d figure it out and stop hanging out with me. Kids at school would ask jokingly why I wasn’t sitting with the Pu Boys anymore, and I’d tell them how I’d humiliated Ethan and Alex worse than any of them ever had. Then those tall, hairy, muscular boys would respect me like one of their own. Goodbye awkward weekends of watching porn with the Pu Boys. Hello awesome weekends partying with the cool kids and fucking some girl’s brains out. I’d already joined the ranks of boys who’d gotten sucked off, and I knew that was just an omen of how much better things would soon become.

(The End)