At Last My Brother Rodney Stripped

Editor's note: this story contains scenes of rough, reluctant, dubiously consensual, or non-consensual sex or scenarios.

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The first time I saw big brother Rodney's dick, he was taped naked to a goalpost with six girls standing around giggling and pointing at his impressive stuff. Playful frat brothers kept darting up, slapping his package so his long dick bounced, and he yelped. Then, they went dashing off, laughing.

And I was standing there, mouth agape, as he kept pleading: "Help, someone!" Ever since, I've felt guilty that as I watched I was wetting my panties.

Rodney was a sophomore at a university, and newly in a fraternity, and had invited me for the weekend. (Nothing kinky. I was ready to apply to colleges and he was doing his part.) The fraternity had a wing with six rooms for visiting girls. Not little sisters, like me, mostly dates on "big weekends."

I stayed there, had a good time the first day touring the college. Lots of guys seemed to want to talk with me. The girls not so much. By then, turning 18 just a few months ago, I was tall, willowy (kinda skinny), with long legs and a 32B bust. My hair (everywhere) was jet black in a pixie cut that went with my gamin looks and big, smouldering brown eyes.

What I never have figured out--not for sure--is if the fraternity buddies "did" Rod that weekend because I was there, or if they already had it the works. One girl, Lynn, visiting her boyfriend that weekend, asked me: "You coming to the athletic field this afternoon?"

"Sure," I said. In fact, that was the first I had heard of it. But I assumed that Rodney was going.

Lynn frowned and asked in funny voice, "You really are?"

"Why not?"

"Nothing, I guess. Do you know that Rodney's already got a reputation for making inappropriate remarks about girls?"

"No," I replied coolly, ready to defend big brother. "Not at all."

"Yup, girls naked in public. Rodney keeps making these cracks about it."

"I'm a sort of exhibitionist, myself," I said. Not sure that I was.

Richardson/White athletic field and park is a vast green space. On the warm, sunny May afternoon a dozen of us walked there, a mile from campus. Arriving, we kept walking across the grass, through stands of trees, past a baseball diamond, and ended up at a soccer field, with no one else in sight, although I could hear people in the distance yelling.

For some reason, I was hyper alert. Maybe because of what Lynn said, but, frankly, I had no idea that it was anything but catty gossip. I figured she was some jealous babe resenting too little attention from Rodney.

On the walk, the girls had seemed to cluster together, whispering, occasionally breaking out in giggles. The guys marched forward rather grimly. No one talked much with me.

On the deserted soccer field, we sort of clustered together, talking. Two guys had knapsacks with food and drinks.

Suddenly, all went quiet. Like waiting.

Lynn sauntered over to Rodney, smiling, and, as she did, the guys drifted into a circle around him, as though to listen.

With a smile, Lynn said: "Rod! Got any sex fantasies? Want to strip me and make me do laps around the field? Bare ass?"

Hot girl, Lynn, wearing short-shorts, long legs bare and shapely, busting out of her tight halter. The smile got wider.

Rodney frowned. "What is this about, Lynn? Are you volunteering? I always have fantasies. Who doesn't?"

"I have fantasies, but not much about girls. And guess what? Today, I get my fantasy."

That was the code word, I guess. I had no clue what a freak show was coming.

Three guys seized Rodney from behind, gripping his upper arms, One guy's arm encircled his neck, pulling his head back. In the middle of his sophomore year, Rodney was a little smaller than some of his senior fraternity buddies.

"Hey!" he yelled. "What the fuck?"

"This is your day, Rod."

Two guys grabbed his legs.

After a stunned moment, I started forward, reaching for one of the guys.

"Stay out of this, Ellen," warned Peter, the guy with his arm around Rodney's neck. I didn't stop, I grabbed one of the guys by the arm.

"Get off of him!" I yelled.

Arms wrapped around me. I didn't have to glance over my shoulder to know it was one of the girls. "Let go!" I yelled.

I heard Lynn's voice from somewhere. "Hey, Ellen, want us to pants you, too?"

"Leave her alone!" cried Rodney. I could not believe how red his face had become. I learned that day why I never had seen Rod naked. He was very modest. In fact, he looked about to cry. And his shouts became pleading.

Things moved fast. He was on the grass with guys sitting on his legs, his chest, and half of his face. I barely could see him.

They had his jacket and shirt off. I could see his chest, some dark hair, one bare nipple, belly button. His torse was strong and sexy, broad shoulders, great biceps.

Suddenly, someone barked, "Roll him. Right over. Good."

Duct tape appeared, Someone was lashing it around Rod's wrists and upper arms, tight, I saw his biceps and triceps swell as his arms were forced back. He was yelling nonstop. "No, no. Please, no! Guys, no! Not out here! My sister!" And on and on.

No one paid attention. Most laughing. The girls giving brief shrieks of delight and calling out stuff like "This is your fantasy come true, Rod!"

I had stopped struggling. The arms released me, and I turned. It was a girl named Karla. Even taller than I am. Beautiful legs, though almost too thin. Long, totally straight, shiny brown hair down her back at least eighteen inches. A knockout. She gave me a smile that seemed apologetic. "Nothing you can do, Ellen. Sorry you showed up this weekend. All kinds of shit happens in fraternities, you know. When I started dating a guy in the frat, there was an initiation. I had to serve the guys drinks topless."

I barely was listening. Rodney whined and moaned. Jeez, he still had his pants on. I realized, then, I was impatient to see his dick and balls. Been waiting a long time. I felt like a sick bitch. But an idea struck me...for use later.

I expected the guys to haul down his shorts and underwear, but they picked him up. Three at his head and shoulders, one at each leg. They were carrying him away like a sack.

Now, the girls had to decide. Were they in on this? Were they going to follow to see the fun? Right now, only Lynn was following the mob of guys. I looked around at the other girls. We all had turned to watch, but not to follow.

I said, looking around at them. "Don't follow. Don't embarrass Rod." I paused. "Okay?"

A few looked back at me. One shrugged.

We could see that the destination was a goal post. They dropped Rodney beside it. He squirmed, heaved his hips, struggled.

They dragged him up and shoved him against the post. The duct tape went round and round his body and the pole. One strand beneath his shoulders, then skipping his bare nipples, around his ribs, leaving his belly bare. He was nailed to that post!

I jumped when I heard his cry. Two guys were hauling down his shorts, whipping them off over his feet, tossing them away.

Yeah, I was riveted on the climactic scene. But first came teasing. One guy stretched out the band of Rod's underwear, leering down, then gave a wolf whistle and turned; "You've got to see this, girls!"

One of the girls started in that direction. "No," I snapped. "Don't do it!"

Another girl started to follow her.

Two girls still left with me. One said, "Hey, what's wrong with Rod? Doesn't like girls who are hot to see his prick?"

"Don't say 'prick'!" I must have sounded like six-year-old.

"I want to see," she said, and started off.

The one girl who still stayed with me--Karla, the tall, leggy beauty--and I could see the strip tease at the pole.

"Come on, Ellen," Karla said. "You can support your brother. You don't want him to be alone through this?"

I asked, suddenly, "Why is this so awful for him?"

She shrugged.

I said: "All these girls are so cute. He doesn't like that they're dying to see him?"

Karla looked at me and said, gently, "Men worry about what women will think of what they've got."

She put her arm around me, steering me. We arrived as the "curtain went up," so to speak. Rod was falling apart. Not quite sobbing. Pleading.

Then, without benefit of drum roll, a guy knelt, hooked his fingers in the band of Rod's underwear and jerked them down. Rodney gave a despairing cry as his stuff popped out. The underwear were dragged over his feet and tossed on the grass.

Wow! He was my "big" brother!

I could not keep myself from staring. His prick was beautiful! Long, thick, perfect skin, beautiful veins, hanging down farther than I could have imagined. These things were big!

I looked right into his agonized, desperate, pleading eyes. I was aware that the other women had closed in. I heard giggling, squeals of delight. They were pointing.

I met Rodney's gaze. I smiled. I said, in a half-whisper shot right at him: "It's perfect, Rodney."

After a long moment, head down, he muttered, "Thanks, Sis." And then, with enormous effort, he said: "I'll survive."

I said, "What can I do?"

His head was hanging, staring down at himself. He shook it.

Then, the guys began the full initiating games.

From my left, a guy darted in, called, "Rodney!" and slapped the full sack between Rodney's legs.

I heard him yowl, saw his head jerk back and his body try desperately to bend over, protect itself, but he was taped tight. If he had been able to bend his legs slightly, he might have sort of manuevered his balls between his legs. But he was taped tight on top and around his knees. His scrotum bulged right out beneath his cock, totally at the mercy of his buddies and their girlfriends.

A frat brother would dart in and slap the big sack, then dart away. Again and again. And each time, Rod's poor long dick would go flying, jouncing.

Karla was standing close to me. She must have sensed the geyser of energy in me. She grabbed my arm. "You can't stop it. They aren't hurting him that much. He'll be all right."

"They're slapping the crap out of his poor balls!"

"It's a game the Victorians called 'slapee.' But it's still a game."

As I was thinking (not very clearly) about that, I saw an arm reach around the goalpost from the back. A hand groped for a moment and found Rod's dick. Rod's head craned down, staring, he made a high-pitched scream: "No!"

The fingers closed on his foreskin and dragged it it back hard, so that the glistening purple head of his prick butted out. Now he was really naked!

A second later, I saw Lynn scamper out from behind the pole laughing and some girls clapped.

That did it for me! An idea I had a few minutes ago flashed back. "Okay, I'll play, too," I snarled at Karla.

I already was yanking off my halter top, tearing it in my fury. And ripping my bra off my skinny torso so my tits jounced. Next, I was shoving down my shorts and bikini panties, all in one motion, baring my pussy. Kicking them off over my tennis shoes.

Suddenly, everyone was staring at me, not Rod. I stepped across the distance between myself and Rodney. Once, for an instant, our eyes met. Then, I was standing straight, my back pressed against Rodney, covering him with my body. My arms hung at my sides. My chin was raised. Just slim legs, a brief riot of jet-black hair at my belly, long torso, up-swooping boobs with nipples pointed up, and the resolute face of an indignant pixie.

It stopped the action. No more running in to "count coup" on Rodney's nuts. My stare drilled into the eyes in the circle around me. Lynn was frowning. Karla smiling, nodding, thumbs up. I gave her a wild grin.

Was this it, then, over, done?

I felt one word breathed against the skin of my neck: 'Sis!'"

And then, I became aware that we pressed together at the level of my butt, so his stiff cock half snuggled in my crack. I could not help it. I began grinding my hips a bit

"Oh, shit, Ellen!"

I could not stop. And then, I realized, Rod's agony of modesty might be over. Forever? Should I?

I stepped to the side.

Jeez, wolf whistles from the guys, wild giggling and squeaks from the girls. I guarantee every eye was on Rod's erect dick.

"Ellen!" he cried out. "Ellen."

It was on public display, erect, thick, purple, the swollen head huge.

She came forward so confidently. I had not been watching. Beautiful, lithe, sexy Karla had stripped. Naked. The well-trimmed brown pubis perfect on the glorious belly.

She took Rod's frenzied erection in one slim hand, the fingers long and the nails perfect, and began to diddle it. Sliding along its slick length. The look on Rodney's face shocked me, but then I realized it was a look of ecstasy. Karla's wicked fingers cultivated the explosive cum.

This was more than I ever, ever bargained to see! I could not stop staring at Rod's manhood. I stepped even closer to where luscious Karla had it all under control with her slicked fingers.

"Ow! Ow!" I heard Rod cry.

Karla had stopped pumping. Now, her hands were slapping the rock-hard cock--back and forth, back and forth. As though she were lashing out the sudden gouts that suddenly shot eight inches into the air.

Big girls obviously knew things that I had to learn.

Karla's had knelt, her smile never leaving her face. I saw gouts of ejaculate smack her left eye, her pretty cheek, her grinning lips, and start dripping.

I knelt, too--almost too late. One final gout torn from Rodney, as he screamed, shot out and splashed my upturned lips.

I saw Karla stand up, pressed herself against Rod, and give him a long lascivious kiss. She must be horny as hell.

Then, she went behind the post to untie him, and I took my turn, Placing my nipples on Rod's and my pussy against his cock, I kissed him for what seemed forever. He thrust his tongue into my mouth.

And then, the episode of insanity passed. I was hit with a sharp mental image of what the guys behind me were seeing. My full, plump ass flaring out from my narrow waist, my skinny legs apart so they could see between them to my cunt, which tends to thrust back that way. Yes, this lust-crazed high-school bitch who strips in public, in front of everyone, is grinding her pubis against her brother's dick. What was going to happen when I went back to the fraternity that night?

Well, I was "invited" to shower with the frat brothers. Four showed up at my room to "escort" me.

"Where are we going?"

"Show you how we live. You know."

I was flattered. Four college seniors and one little high-school Ellen.

I felt the odorous heat before I saw it and caught the locker room smell of men."

"I can go in?" I asked. "Isn't this guys?"

"We think you really like guys." They were so handsome, smiling. I couldn't believe I was getting all this attention.

We stood at a plain wooden bench between rows of blue metal lockers. "Okay, Ellen," said one. "We've been looking forward to this."

I hesitated, but I was getting the photo. I asked, "Where is Rod?"

"Oh, sleeping it off! He had a rough day. No more initiations. He's in. And thanks to you, it was unforgettable."

"So what now?" I asked, increasingly aware of the what.

Two guys were undressing. Now, one shoved down his pants and underwear, smiled up at me. I barely had appreciated his beautiful cock when another guy showed his stuff.

"Oh..."

"Strip, Ellen. We're showering."

"Where are the other girls?"

"We don't let girls in the shower room, of course."

"But me?"

"When you stripped this afternoon and stood in front of Rod, to protect him, we all fell in love with you. Watching you put us totally over the top. We want to make you an honorary member of the fraternity."

"I don't know..." I said. But I did.

"We can strip you, then."

"Oh." After a moment, I said. "Okay. Like Rod."

They did. Then, they stood eyeballing me. "Oh, God," one moaned.

"Gorgeous," said another.

From behind, I felt arms go around me. Hands cupped my tits and squeezed. I closed my eyes and sighed. In other words, I ran up the white flag for unconditional surrender.

There were a dozen shower heads and 15 guys. As much naked cock as I ever dreamed of seeing.

First, they helped me to wash. Every guy had to soap my tits and work up suds in my pussy hair. It felt so good. I was getting hot. What attention!

I kept thinking: Ellen, you have totally gotten yourself into this. Everyone one of these guys is going to fuck you, and, since you are still a virgin...

Not the way it happened. The boys knew all about getting girls pregnant.

Pete, the macho head of the fraternity, came over to me, smiling, shaking his head in awe, I assume, at my beauty. He gently took me in his arms, kissed me--a very long kiss. And I felt fingers at my crack tickling my clit. We kissed, and he rubbed.

I felt warm, gentle hands on my shoulders, pushing down. I glanced up at Pete. He smiled and nodded.

I knelt. No ambiguity, now. Right in front of my face was a wet, slick, beautiful cock.

Ellen, you know what to do!

I took his balls in one hand, my grip firm. As I tugged, his foreskin rolled back, and I saw the yearning head of his prick.

There is no other way to say it. I took it in my mouth, I sucked and savored and licked as though famished. As I did, I became aware a guy had knelt behind me and reached around to play with my tits. So good...

It becomes blurred. Oh, I knew when Pete came with hot spurts that I gulped down frantically.

Next, I felt hands on my shoulders, dragging me down on my back. I thought: Okay, Ellen, you know how casually you joke about "gangbang"? This is it, honey.

But Pete stepped over quickly and actually cuffed the guy who was pulling me down. "None of that!

After that, the blur. Another dick pressed against my lips. Fingers in my hair yanking my face so I was forced to take more of a big dick down my throat.

Once, I tried to rise. No deal. Hands from behind going crazy on my tits.

Another dick, another. And then, not a hand from behind on my tits, but fingers slipping between my legs, stroking my labia, clit, racing over my slickness because I was non-stop lubricating. Fingers moving so slowly! Tormenting me!

Much, much later, I grasped that those crafty fingers were making me wait until I had serviced everyone.

Another dick. Slick fingers in my pussy and on my clit, teasing. I was dying to come. Dying.

I was sucking and licking the last guy to his cum. Finally, the sly fingers went whizzing over the wet pink of my cunt, and, shoved inside, stroking me.

Having an orgasm can't kill you. I thought it would. I cannot imagine how I shrieked there in the shower and flopping flat on the warm, wet tiles, and ground myself against the hand in my cunt.

They carried me, naked, through the halls. To my room, plopped me on my bed, pulled the covers over me. No one wanted to be in bed with me, they all had come in my mouth.

Lips, I never learned whose, kissed my bare ass just before they pulled the covers up. The lights went out. The door closed.

I did not dream of dicks that night.