Chapter 26: Forced Orgasm
The Lopsided Contest
Well, I’ve finally mustered up the courage to tell you about the rest of the degradations I suffered at the slumber party at the hands of the ruthless evildoers from Roosevelt High. What follows will be difficult to recount, as the level of humiliation reached heights I never thought possible. I doubt I’ll ever fully recover.
When I left off with you we were in the poolroom and they had just finished measuring my penis, which had shrunken considerably after I was forced to tread water in our cold swimming pool. Spirits were high, drinks had been flowing, and the gang was in full-on party mode—giddy, loud, and, as you’re about to see, emboldened.
The poolroom was fairly spacious and nicely furnished. Besides the furniture, there was a full-sized pool table, a stereo system, and even a bar. Bright lights, loud music, and general merriment filled the room—except for one dissenter. That would be the naked sixteen-year-old boy, whose state of humiliation was already extreme, and who could sense that things were just beginning to escalate.
“How about a game of 8-ball?” suggested Julie, casually picking up a cue stick.
“I wanna play!” chimed in Felicity, grabbing one for herself.
Julie smirked. “I’ve got an idea—let’s play girls versus boys. Felicity and I against Blondie and Mitch.”
Everyone seemed quite pleased with the idea. Everyone, that is, except me. I groaned inwardly. Once again, I would be taking an active part in my humiliation.
“What are the stakes?” asked Brenda with a devilish glint in her eye.
For a moment, there was silence while their mischievous minds worked actively.
“I know!" Julie’s eyes lit up. All heads turned toward her—most with anticipation, mine with dread. “The two that lose have to give each other a big wet kiss on the lips.”
The room exploded with laughter, whistles, and gasps.
“And I don’t mean a little peck,” Julie added over the noise. “I mean serious tongue action, thirty seconds minimum!”
Once again there was a boisterous response. I glanced furtively at Mitch, who to my disgust was staring at me, grinning lecherously.
“All right then, let the games begin,” he said. To my chagrin he gave my bare ass a friendly pat as he stepped toward the cue sticks. He returned with two sticks and handed me one of them, grinning freely.
“You break, Blondie,” Julie announced, racking the balls with a wicked grin.
I stepped up to the table and closed my eyes tightly, pressing my fist to my forehead, trying to psych myself up. Under normal circumstances, I would regard myself as a halfway decent pool player. But let’s face it—naked, humiliated, and staring down the prospect of a forced lip-lock with Mitch, I was far from my comfort zone. Still, I knew I had to try. I obviously would much rather see the two sisters in a lip lock than have to face the same fate with Mitch.
I shuddered at the thought of the latter scenario and leaned over the cue ball in preparation to break. I heard the giggling and blushed ever so brightly in self-consciousness. Through it all, I managed to break the rack decisively, the balls spreading impressively across the table. I heard a ball drop in a side pocket.
Felicity leaned over and peeked into the pocket, in such a way that I couldn’t help but be reminded of a similar motion she made earlier that night when she leaned over and peeked into the panties I was wearing.
God, that seems like ages ago.
“Solids,” she announced, waving the two-ball in the air before placing it back. I scanned the table—there were at least three decent shots available. The seven-ball in the corner pocket looked like the easiest, and the one that could easily set me up for my next two shots. I leaned over again, and just as I was going into my forward motion with the shot, Julie reached between my legs from behind and tickled my balls with her fingers.
“Aagh!” I yelped while lifting my upper body straight up. I had barely contacted the cue ball, moving it only a couple of inches. Everyone laughed heartily while I blushed crimson again.
Julie proceeded to surprise everyone by exhibiting her prowess as a pool shark. “Eleven, corner,” she called out before expertly knocking it in. She coolly chalked her cue stick while appraising her next shot. “Nine, side pocket, back this way,” she called. I looked on dejectedly as she banked in the nine-ball effortlessly. It became obvious why she was willing to commit to the stakes. “Fourteen, corner.” Boom, slam-dunk. “Twelve, other corner.” No problem. “Ten, side pocket.” Done. She chalked again. “Fifteen, corner.” Bam, she slammed it home. Only the thirteen, then the eight were left. But the thirteen was blocked by a couple of solid balls, so she really had no shot.
She missed, leaving me with a faint glimmer of hope.
“Sorry, little sis,” she said to Felicity.
“No problem, you were amazing,” Felicity replied with a kiss on her sister’s cheek. “That’s the only kissing we’ll be doing tonight,” she added, flashing me a grin. The crowd roared again.
The smiling Mitch lined up his shot. The four-ball was leaning against the near corner, seemingly begging to get knocked in. But he chose a much more difficult shot. I should have known that I wouldn’t get any cooperation from him.
“Seven, one bank, all the way back,” he called. And, of course, he didn’t come close. Not only that, but he also left a very simple shot at the thirteen-ball for Felicity, and the eight-ball was ominously close to the other corner pocket.
“Oh, this is just too easy,” said Felicity, grinning gleefully. “Thirteen, on my thirteenth birthday, in the corner.”
She wasn’t as skilled as her sister, but she didn’t have to be. A novice could have made that shot, and she did so, easily. Felicity and the eight-ball were all that stood in the way of my destiny with Mitch. I lowered my head miserably, as the shot was even easier than her last one.
“Eight-ball, corner pocket.” She sang the words melodically.
The room was quiet in anticipation, and Felicity, with her now-recognized flair for drama, let the moment draw out. She calmly chalked her cue stick, then blew the excess chalk away in my direction with a light blow on the tip. She looked up at me, then at Mitch, and grinned broadly. She then broke the silence with an age-old schoolyard chant.
“Mitch and Blondie, sitting in a tree,” she sung. “K-I-S-S-I-N-G.” She slowly circled the table, eyeing the shot from all angles. It was simply for effect, since it was obvious what she was going to do. “First comes love…then comes marriage…then comes Blondie in a
baby carriage!”
While everyone laughed, she leaned over the shot, staring down the barrel of her cue stick. Then, to everyone’s approval (save mine, of course), she authoritatively slammed her stick into the cue ball and watched with satisfaction as the eight-ball thumped against the back of the pocket and dropped from sight.
The room erupted. Applause, laughter, whooping cheers. I stood in stunned silence, my eyes locked on the table—seven solid balls still sitting there, a clear indication of how I was bamboozled. Of course, the way the evening had gone, I should not have expected any other outcome.
“Come on, you two, pay off your bet,” prompted Felicity impatiently. “Winners eat dinners, losers are smoochers.”
The silliness brought more laughter from the drunken group. Obviously at this point it didn’t take much to amuse the revelers.
The Kiss
Mitch was already stepping toward me, much too eagerly for my liking.
“Hang on a sec!” said Becky. She hurried over to the stereo and flipped through the CD collection. “Ah, here we go. The Final Jeopardy theme. This is
perfect—it’s exactly thirty seconds long.” I groaned, bemoaning the day I whimsically purchased a CD comprised of several television theme songs.
“You’d better cooperate, Blondie,” warned Brenda, “if you know what’s good for you. Thirty seconds, and act like you mean it. Ready, go!”
The music began. ♬ Duh-duh, duh-duh, duh-duh-duh… ♬
“It’s just you and me, Blondie boy,” Mitch said, stepping in close and pressing his lips to mine.
“Ew, gross!” shrieked Felicity—without meaning a word of it.
Suffice it to say, the next thirty seconds were among the most unpleasant I’ve ever experienced. Right from the get-go Mitch’s enthusiasm was unfettered. To my disgust, his tongue met mine and darted around the confines of my mouth with reckless abandon. I was most repulsed when he placed his hands on my ass and started rhythmically grinding his midsection against mine. I felt the unmistakable evidence of his pleasure pressing against my lower abdomen.
The girls were howling with laughter—hooting, gasping, egging him on. I squeezed my eyes shut, face burning, and endured. It felt like the music would never end.
But at long last, the final note played. I recoiled instantly.
The girls were cheering raucously. I opened my eyes and was met by Mitch’s flushing, grinning face. His hands were still clutching my ass, and I managed to squirm free—but not before suffering through one last pelvic thrust from the impassioned aggressor.
“Oh Blondie, you’re such a tease,” taunted Mitch.
As I backed away I couldn’t avoid noticing the engorged protrusion in Mitch’s khakis, which only added to my revulsion. The girls seemed to follow my gaze, and then, seemingly in concert with each other, turned their gazes to
my penis, which had remained in its small, flaccid state. More giggling ensued.
The Dildo
“I’ve got an idea!” Becky suddenly shrieked, her eyes lighting up with mischief. Without another word, she darted out of the poolroom and took off running around the long, winding path that circled the swimming pool. “I’ll be right back!” she called over her shoulder as she disappeared into the house.
Everyone turned to watch her go, curiosity and anticipation thick in the air. Whatever devious scheme my sister had just cooked up, we all knew it wasn’t going to be good for me. I bowed my head, already bracing myself for whatever fresh humiliation was headed my way.
It didn’t take long. The door swung open just minutes later, and Becky re-entered the poolroom, slightly winded but grinning devilishly.
In her right hand, she clutched a mystery object wrapped tightly in a small pink hand towel. Without a word, she strode over to the pool table and laid the bundle down with deliberate care. The item remained hidden in the towel, but her impish grin spoke volumes.
Rather than reveal it right away, she turned her attention to me.
“You’ve been putting on such a nice little show for us tonight, sweetie,” she said. “It’d be a real shame to let the fun end now—you’re on such a roll.”
With maddening slowness, she began to unroll the towel on the table. She continued speaking to me as she did so, knowing just how to draw out the suspense for her expectant cohorts.
“You’ve already shown us how much you care about Mitch,” she teased, “and we can see that you know how to kiss.”
The towel was nearly open now, but she paused dramatically—stretching the moment just long enough to make me squirm—while her eager audience leaned in, breathless with anticipation.
“But do you know how to
suck? That’s the question.”
Her sordid plan gradually hit home, as a cream-colored dildo emerged from the confines of the towel. It was approximately seven inches long and of moderate thickness. It resembled a real penis quite accurately.
She held it high in the air for the benefit of her thrilled audience.
“Oh, Becky, you little
devil, you!” roared her best friend Brenda.
The ebullient response from everyone filled the room, bolstering Becky’s enthusiasm. She held the dildo up to my face and laid out her very unpleasant instructions.
“Let’s play a little pretend game, dear Blondie. Here, take this.”
I reluctantly took the loathsome object in my hands, looking at it like it was a lethal snake.
“Now I’d like you to pretend that it's your partner Mitch.”
Guffaws rang through the room. I glanced cautiously at Mitch and was chagrined to see him grinning lewdly at me. My eyes shot back at his “pretend” penis. I was in the throes of wretchedness.
Becky continued.
“Pretend you’re horny, Blondie, and you just
love licking and sucking Mitch’s big dick. You want to bring him to an orgasm, but you want to draw it out, because you love it so much.” The laughter and my mortification increased. “So start out nice and slowly, then build up the momentum and bring him to a raging climax.”
She stopped, which was my cue to begin the degrading act. But I couldn’t quite compel myself to do her bidding, so she coerced me by taking my hand and lifting the dildo to my mouth.
“Come on, sweetie, Mitch is waiting. Stick out your tongue and start licking it.”
I took a deep breath and started licking the dildo, much to the delight of my cheering, laughing tormentors.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” prompted Becky, “Lick it all the way up and down. And kiss it, Princess. Give it some nice tender kisses. Mitch will love it.”
With extreme reluctance I followed Becky’s directions, alternately licking and kissing the dreaded dildo while my audience cheered me on.
Brenda was the culprit who advanced my present state of mortification. “Blondie, you’re not getting very excited, are you? Look at this little thing,” she said while taking my penis in her thumb and first two fingers.
The surprise intrusion caused me to retract my hips and let out a high-pitched yelp, much to everyone's hilarity.
I had lowered the dildo from my mouth, which would be corrected forthwith.
“Did I tell you to stop, Blondie?” asked the giggling Brenda. “Keep licking, Mitch is getting very hot.”
I went back to licking the dildo under everyone's watchful eyes.
“Put it in your pretty little mouth and start sucking on the head, Blondie,” instructed Becky. I did. “That’s it, suck on it. Now lick it some more. Good, now suck. Oh yes, you’ve got the hang of it, Princess. Lick and suck, lick and suck. You're really good at giving head. Oh, Mitch is
loving it.”
The laughter was relentless as I carried out the shameful charade.
Then, just when I foolishly believed my humiliation had peaked, the wickedly imaginative Felicity managed to take it to another level.
“I wonder how big Blondie’s little pee-pee gets when he gets excited?” she mused.
Leave it to the young fiend from hell to open a new can of worms.
“Well,” responded Brenda, “The average is about five and a half inches, I believe. I seriously doubt that our little friend here can approach that.”
“Um,” said Felicity with her hand on her chin as if in deep thought. There was an unmistakable gleam in her eyes. “Maybe we should find out.”
An energetic reaction resulted when everyone grasped what Felicity was suggesting.
“Oh
yes,” agreed Brenda, “We really need to find out. I’ll bet it’s not much more than five inches—if that.”
“Okay, here’s the deal,” said the keyed-up Felicity effusively. Her fertile mind seemed to always be working, and it never failed to work to my detriment. “If Blondie’s little penis in his excited state is five inches or more, then he wins, and we’ll let him get dressed and go on his.…not so merry way.
But….if it’s
less than five inches he.…let me think about this for a second……….I’ve got it! If it’s
less than five inches he has to perform for us by playing with his little toy until he spurts.”
Explosive cheers of amusement and agreement followed.
“Please, no…” I pleaded, lowering the dildo from my mouth.
“Lick and suck, lick and suck!” reminded Becky.
I obeyed her unrelenting order. She then picked up the pink hand towel and wrapped it around my eyes while tying it behind my head, creating an effective blindfold. I momentarily stopped activity with the dildo, which brought on another admonition from Becky.
“I’m not going to tell you again, Blondie—you keep sucking on Mitch’s love muscle until he comes.”
Everyone laughed and I flushed brighter.
There was a minute of two of total silence, save for the small slurping sounds I was making with the dildo.
I thought I might have heard some whispering.
Then it started.
Sexual Arousal
I felt some fingers caressing my hair and lightly massaging my scalp. I had no idea who it was. Within moments two other sets of fingers began stroking my nipples and another began caressing my sides and tummy. It was stimulating, and it was all I could do to keep from becoming erect. I was really hoping I could fight it off and avoid further humiliation.
But then I felt someone else—to this day I can’t tell you who was doing what—come behind me and she (he? Oh, how I hoped not!) started licking my right ear and probing the canal with his or her tongue. At the same time two more sets of fingers began stroking the insides of both of my thighs. Then another tongue started exploring my other ear.
The feeling was exquisite, and to my chagrin I felt myself starting to become aroused. I heard a couple of stifled giggles, followed by a “shh” sound. I remember thinking what a sight I must have been, dutifully sucking on a dildo (Mitch’s “pretend” penis) while trying unsuccessfully to stave off the inevitable hard-on.
To make matters worse, I was pretty sure someone was taking a video of the extraordinary scene for posterity.
My situation was becoming bleaker by the second. I felt somebody’s tongue circling my nipples, and ever so slowly the tongue started working its way down my torso.
Meanwhile, somebody (please, not Mitch!) was using their fingers to gently caress my balls. There was no turning back for me now—I had a full-fledged hard-on. Again more stifled giggles.
The tongue had found its way to my genitals and began licking my balls. I felt my penis standing straight up. The tongue (God,
please don’t be Mitch!) slowly, teasingly slid up and down the shaft of my penis. Whomever it was, she (I'm sticking with "she") knew what she was doing. When the tip of her tongue expertly explored my frenulum I involuntarily began rotating my hips and moaning softly, while still sucking on the dildo. I heard more giggling.
Then I felt a mouth (I tried to imagine it belonging to Cheryl) engulfing my whole penis. For the first time in my life, I was getting a blow job. Never did I imaging that my first experience receiving oral sex would be tremendously humiliating, but that was exactly my sorry situation.
Then a voice (I recognized it as Becky’s) whispered loudly in my ear (someone else was still licking it, but I heard my sister’s demand), “Suck faster, Blondie. Mitch wants to cum. Faster! Faster!”
To the sounds of more muffled giggles, I attacked the dildo with more fervor. The slurping sounds were louder, coinciding with the slurping sounds coming from my own penis. Both my head and hips were moving back and forth at a furious pace. Two people were still delving into my ears with their tongues, another mouth was kissing my chest and stomach, and someone (maybe the same person who was giving me head—maybe not) was tickling my balls with their fingers. The sensation was overpowering, and I was just about to explode.
My sister somehow sensed as much.
“STOP!” yelled Becky.
And they did. So did I, and I removed the dildo from my mouth, holding it at my side. I was left in a state of near-climax, which created a dichotomy. From a physical standpoint, it was sheer frustration. But from a psychological and emotional standpoint, to achieve reluctant orgasm at their hands (and mouths) would have certainly exacerbated my humiliation.
Another Measurement
“Time for a measurement!” stated Felicity while she retrieved the measuring tape from the top of the bar.
“Yes!” chimed in Cheryl, “Let’s see if Blondie has to finish the job in front of us or if he can do it in the privacy of his bedroom.” This elicited yet another chorus of laughter.
Everyone gathered around me in excited anticipation, while I prayed silently that I would “measure up.” I honestly wasn’t sure if I would or not. It had been a few months since I had last measured myself. Then it was only four and a half inches. I remember thinking that surely I must be larger now. My penis was still fully erect, so at least I had a chance, I felt.
Felicity eagerly stretched the tape across the length of my shaft. I looked down for the "tale of the tape," and my heart sank appreciably.
“It’s only four and a half inches!” squealed Felicity, to everyone’s glee.
“You lose, Blondie,” sang Becky cheerily. “Now we get to see your grand performance. Do you think you can spurt some juice out of that little thing?”
Everyone laughed heartily. They were at an elevated level of excitement and enjoyment. Felicity rubbed her palms together and jumped up and down, grinning from ear to ear.
My Naked Performance
“Let’s see,” said Becky. “You need a stage for this performance.”
She snatched a large beach towel from a shelf and draped it across the felt of the pool table. She patted the table and said, “Hop up here, sweetie pie, so we can all see you better.”
I momentarily put my face in my hands, and then lifted my knee to climb onto the table
I tried handing Becky the dildo, but she would have none of it.
“No-no-no, you need that. You've got poor Mitch all worked up. He must be in a state of sexual frenzy, waiting for you to make him cum.”
Dismally, I climbed up onto the pool table.
“Blondie promised he would dance for me on my birthday,” proclaimed Felicity. “I think we should make Blondie dance for us while he makes himself spurt.”
I winced. Becky let out a delighted laugh.
“Oh, what a brilliant idea! A naked dance on the pool table while sucking on Mitch and getting himself off. That should be quite the spectacle!”
She spun toward the stereo and rifled through CDs.
“Marcia, do get this on video. It will be some priceless footage.”
She popped in a CD. “Okay, big boy, it’s show time. This is your grand finale, so you’d better make it good.”
She hit the play button and “I’m So Excited” by the Pointer Sisters began playing on the stereo. Becky jacked up the volume.
I started dancing, albeit slowly and half-heartedly. My dignity had long since vanished, but this….this was a new low.
“Faster, Blondie! Come on, shake it!” Julie shouted over the music.
I tried to pick up the pace, though it was painfully clear my heart wasn’t in it. The room was echoing with laughter and hoots of delight.
“Come on, Blondie, move it! This is your moment!” Becky jeered.
“Suck Mitch’s cock, Blondie, suck it!” yelled Brenda.
I had forgotten about the dildo in my left hand. I raised it to my mouth and simulated oral sex on the fake penis.
“Suck faster, Blondie!” continued the relentless Brenda. “Mitch wants you, suck his dick!”
I increased the tempo of the sucking motion, much to everyone’s continued amusement.
“Spank that little monkey, Blondie!” ordered Becky.
My penis had shrunken about halfway since the group stimulation ended a few minutes earlier. I knew it would be problematic for me to regain that level of excitement under the circumstances, but I had the grim sense that that this would not end until I managed to climax.
I took my penis in my right hand and started playing with myself.
Becky reached behind her and pulled a small brown container of suntan oil from a shelf and walked up to the pool table.
“Hold out your right hand, Blondie!” she yelled over the music.
When I did, she poured a fair amount into my palm. The fragrance of coconut permeated the room.
“Stroke that little weenie, Blondie!" commanded my sister.
I did so, and my penis became harder with the help of the lubricant.
“Keep dancing, Blondie! And
suck that dick! Go Blondie! Go Blondie!”
I stroked, I danced, and I sucked. The cheering and laughing increased.
“You’re not dancing fast enough, Blondie. Faster!” screamed Becky.
“Dance, Blondie! Faster!” Julie pushed.
I tried moving a little faster, but (naturally) my heart wasn’t in it—words can’t do justice to the humiliation I felt at that time.
While seven gleeful young women were cheering me on, completely lost in the hilarity of it all, Mitch was standing behind the bar, which was shielding his activity. It was plain for me to see that he was in the midst of self-gratification. He looked at me lustfully, and I quickly turned my head away in disgust.
Then Becky’s tone shifted. Evidently I wasn't dancing fast enough for her.
“All right, that does it,” she said, marching to the wall and pulling a canoe oar off its hook.
My eyes went wide. It didn’t take a brain surgeon to comprehend its purpose for this situation. I braced myself for the blow, but no amount of mental preparation on my part could have mitigated the pain I was about to experience.
“I said FASTER!”
The loud smacking sound of wood meeting flesh and the word “faster” were simultaneous. I yelped, the pain flashing through me like a bolt of lightning. Becky looked up at me and held the oar up menacingly.
“Do I need to tell you again?” she yelled.
I needed no further encouragement. I started dancing like a maniac. Hell, I was jumping up and down from the
pain. I moved at a frenetic pace, and the rhythm of the sucking and stroking motions naturally increased likewise. They were laughing hysterically now, seemingly in a frenzy.
I couldn’t help but glance at Mitch and could see that behind the bar he was immersed in self-pleasure. I couldn’t let that get to me—I had to cum, so I could end my misery. I was getting very close, and I was pumping away frantically.
Becky turned the volume up full blast. The Pointers were at a fever pitch, as was the cheering and laughter.
♬
I'm so excited! I just can't hide it! I'm about to lose control, and I think I like it—yeah! ♬
And it was right at that point that I lost control, but I don’t think I liked it. I stopped dancing, and my body stiffened. Without thinking, I dropped my left hand but left the dildo in my mouth—to their added hilarity, I’m sure. I pumped furiously with my right hand, and the juices flowed.
“WOO-HOO!” they shrieked, some stomping and clapping.
I continued to pump away, at that point completely absorbed in my fulfillment.
“YEAH, BABY! YOU GO, BLONDIE! WOOOOO!”
By the time the song hit its final note, the last drops of my fluid dribbled out, and I dropped to my hands and knees, utterly spent from my orgasm and the hideous humiliation I had endured. Beads of sweat dripped from my forehead. My arms were shaking.
The music had quieted, and momentarily the girls had, too.
Then a moan emanated from behind the bar. The girls turned back, and it was obvious what had just transpired.
“Congratulations, Blondie, you did it—you got Mitch off!” blurted out my sister.
Amidst the laughter, she tossed me a robe. As the cheerful group filed out, my sister delivered one last parting shot.
“Oh—don’t make any plans for tomorrow night, sweetie. We’ll all be back to watch the video, and we’ll need someone to serve cocktails and hors d’ oeuvres." She flashed a mischievous wink. “Nothing fancy—you can come as you are.”
Their laughter faded into the night. I wrapped the robe around my shoulders and stared down blankly at my drying semen. The sense of desolation was overwhelming, and the suppressed tears began to flow. As my whimpers escalated to loud, uncontrollable sobs, my sense of hopelessness hit home, seemingly registering in my brain with a loud thud.
I rued the day I enrolled in Roosevelt High, my personal house of horrors.
Epilogue
Two weeks later, I was finally starting to come out of my doldrums. And yes, I did have to submit to them the next night. I'm not going to go into detail, but they had their way with me again. They made me strip naked and I had to serve them drinks and hors d’ oeuvres while we all watched the video. They were having a high old time, and it was excruciating for me to relive the horrible affair all over again.
I don't know what the future holds, but one thing that keeps me going is hope. I don't know how I will go about it, but I'm going to come up with a plan to exact revenge on each and every one of my tormentors. One day, they’ll get theirs. And when they do, I will be sure to tell you all about it.
What a great feeling that will be!
End
