Shit! It was jutting up from my belly like a pink carrot stuck in a snowman's face--except this pink tower reared back from my brown hair patch at an abrupt angle, reaching up past my belly button. And the pink carrot had a big dark pink head bulging at its top, shiny and slick because my foreskin was dragged back so hard that it stung.
"Jeez, he's got a big one for eighteen years old, doesn't he...?" The voice was soft, shy--shaking a little. Barbara Anderson, my sister's friend from next door, was a pale, platinum blonde Swedish girl, svelte, with small high breasts, and an adorable face with almost translucent skin.
My big sister, Chris, giggled. "You haven't seen many, have you Barb?" Chris was the mastermind of all this. I could have wept. She had never seen my stuff! Who had? I had gone through high school virginal and proper, working out every day to shape my body but never quite able to approach girls.
My goddamn sister knew that. Now, I was on display. This was my dick's debutante ball, coming out for everyone to see. I could have died of mortification.
How had I fallen for Chris's stupid story that she had great therapy for my lower back problem? Just go slip on your gym shorts and a tee. Now, I strap your legs apart, like this... Just strapping your wrist to give me leverage for the back stretches.
Then, I was saying: "Wait, no! Why are you strapping the other wrist, too?"
But it was already done. I was alone with Chris in the empty apartment attached to our family's old farmhouse. I was strapped down and spreadeagled. I glanced up; she was grinning. Chris was a big girl, a college sophomore, now, tall, with long legs and hefty breasts that more than packed tight the green sweaters she liked to wear. I suppose you'd say she had a pretty face--and shortish brown hair.
I felt panic. "Okay, now what?" I tried to speak calmly. I tried not to imagine what was coming.
"Now," she said thoughtfully, "I think I may need a pair of scissors." She knelt and bent over me. Her hand slid across my bare belly to the waistband of my shorts.
"Hey! No!" I screamed. "What are you doing?" For a moment, tilting her head, she gazed down assessing the lump beneath my shorts. She nodded slightly.
With an abrupt jerk, she yanked down my shorts--I wasn't wearing underwear--so hard that I felt my dick flopping around. I gave a half shout, a half whine, protesting... "What the fuck...?" But I knew "what." I moaned.
She was shaking her head. "Never get'em off without scissors." She left the shorts dragged down as she got up and left the room. I raised my head to stare down at a thick cock lying at rest across my belly, at its base my swelling balls half-lost in thick brown hair. "Chris!" I heard my voice breaking into tears. This was impossible, unimaginable.
She came back, knelt beside me, and business-like carefully began cutting my shorts from the bottom to the waistband, avoiding my dick, which, to my horror, was swelling. Then, the shorts were off. The tee soon followed.
Chris stood and gazed down, nodding, I was stark naked, tears already in my eyes, shaking my head, whining. She said, "Nice cock, Buddy." That's my nickname, "Buddy," or "Bud."
And then my body gave a violent start as I tried to sit up. I had heard, from the kitchen, the door opening and a voice calling, "Chris?" And another voice, "Hi, Chris." Women's voices. I wonder why I did not die of mortification--or at the very least faint.
No introductions were needed. Two of Chris's girlfriends, Barbara and Beverly, both long-time locals and like Chris home from college for the summer. To me, they were the "big girls," college sophomores. It quickly became obvious they knew what the game was going to be. Still, they stopped as they entered the room, seeing I was stark naked with a raging boner. Barbara murmured, "Oh, my God. Bev grinned.
They held a brief powwow about why I never would tell, how if I did blab they would say the game was actually all my idea. Chris said, "Each us was tied up in turn, with Buddy last. Somehow, after about 10 minutes, he freaked out."
Anyway, said Bev, I was going to have fun. To emphasize her point, Bev slipped her foot out of her sandal and grinning used her bare foot to roll my dick over my belly. By now, that's all it needed... My dick felt burning hot; my hard-on was monumental. As though on their own, my hips thrust my dick up against her foot.
They got right down to business. Chris was slipping a rubber band around my balls--tight--so that they bulged, the skin stretched shiny. I figured I knew what was next. I was babbling, "No, no, pleeeease!" but with a cloth pulled across my mouth and tied behind my head, who could hear me? I had earned that gag by non-stop protests.
"Nice nuts, Buddy!" Bev was another slender one, tanned and freckled, with short streaky blonde hair, always a grin on her face. Somehow I always imagined that, unlike Barb, she had been fucked...
She reached out now, with one slender hand that closed on my balls. Here eyes held mine, she giggled. "Cheer up, Buddy, we're just three pretty girls."
Yeah, just three girls, the first who ever saw my stuff--three college girls admiring my penis, so erect it was quivering. In September, I would be going off to college, too. I had hoped I might have my first date this summer. I dreamed I might finally, finally feel-up a girl. Some girl see my built bod? I hadn't thought about that...
Suddenly, my whole body jerked tight in a spasm. My hips hiked up. Behind the damn gag, I cried out. Sister Chris suddenly held a ping-pong paddle with a light-green plastic striking surface. And then, she was delivering quick slaps, sharp love taps, to my tight ball sac.
"Ooh, don't hurt him," said gentle, pretty Barbara.
"Let me do it!" laughed Bev, very tomboyish and athletic.
How did I deserve this?!! I didn't, but Chris thought I did. It was last year, around Thanksgiving, although that has nothing to do with it. My family was gathered in the TV room, all except Chris. Mrs. Eicholtz and her new baby occupied the "apartment" attached to the big old farmhouse back then.
Mrs. Eicholtz was out for the day, and Chris was babysitting. But Chris also had a date that evening, so she fixed up the baby with a bottle and went into the bathroom to take a shower. Suddenly, where the family was sitting in the farmhouse, we heard an enraged screeching: "Can't I even take a fucking shower? The baby is crying! Can someone just help?"
We heard it loud and clear. The apartment was just at the end of a hall, the door open. But no one got up. My father shook his head. Cope, Chris! My younger sister and brother just stared at Dad.
Again, Chris's cry for help.
I got up and walked to the door of the apartment. Peeped in. The baby was balling. The bathroom door was closed. I walked in. I would pick up the baby....
Right then, I guess, Chris had decided no one was coming. The bathroom door banged open and there she stood, stark naked and dripping. She was a big, athletic girl, lots of field hockey muscles, and "mature." Her big breasts were a bit pendulous from sheer size, but high and firm, the thick brown nipples looking right at me. She had plenty of light brown, still-wet hair at the base of her belly. She held the bathroom door, staring at me!
For one second, I had an erotic experience. My first real-life experience. So sexy...
Then, Chris was screeching. "Get out of here! Never come in here! Get out! Get out! Don't you dare!" It was hysteria.
I hurried out, back to the family side. They all had heard. They all stared at me. My face was bright red. My Dad? Shaking his head, again.
When Chris finally walked in, dressed, my dad said, "You were screaming. Bud," nodding at me, "was the only one who went to help..." As though she should apologize for blasting me.
With an impatient wave, Chris said, "Yeah, yeah..." To my knowledge, she never acknowledged doing anything wrong.
Now, Bev had taken the ping-pong paddle and was frowning down at my captive nuts, swelling in the grip of the elastic band. She grinned.
"No," I moaned, "No!" But through the cloth pulled tight across my mouth and tied behind my head.
Damned Chris had arranged all this. It was payback. I had seen her stuff and now my stuff was on display. I raised my head and peered down across my chest and belly. My dick had a mind of its own. It was at a 60-degree angle up from my pubic hair, stretched rigid back to my belly button and beyond. The fat reddish cap, with its slit, swelled above it. It felt as though the whole world, suddenly--after no one--was looking just at my prick and balls.
"Slap!" Bev hit me with the ping-pong paddle.
Did she hear the "No!" I cried out? That one was hard! What was she doing? Women just can't imagine the pain in your nuts. There is no pain like it. The first gong of speechless agony, then the deep ache all through you... Unbearable. But there it is.
Bev was leaning very close. Such a cute face--a big girl's athletic summer face. She continued enthusiastically: "Slap! Slap! Slap!"
My body went crazy, stiffening in rigid protest. Behind my gag, I was past pleading, now just yelping.
"Okay, okay, Bev" Chris angrily slapped her arm. Then, she grabbed the paddle. Bev looked up, alarmed.
"They're his fucking testicles!" said Chris.
Now, I felt my erection collapsing. Wilting. I guess Chris saw it, too. In her well-known angry, accusing tone, she demanded, "Okay, Bev, now you show him something to keep it up!"
"What?"
