Pantsing and Stripping Forums

Most of my stories are inspired by pictures. Some of the pictures are suggestive in nature, but most are just ordinary pictures seemingly catching girls doing ordinary things. But they are enough to get me to sketch out a story. Most of these stories go nowhere. Some start and go for a while and then end.

It’s the latter that this is all about. Those more-than-too-short stories that aren’t enough to stand on their own. So. I decided to collect those that could be brought to some kind of conclusion into a series of vignettes.

The stories don’t even have names; they have numbers, the numbers correspond to the date on which I originally saved the story. Since I will not post the pictures here, I will precede each story with a brief verbal description of the picture that inspired it.

These are posted on the FNA site, but I'll present them here for the sake of convenience.

160322-01

Picture: Two girls standing with their bicycles. One, in her pink, sleeveless blouse, short skirt and sneakers is about 12 and into her first months of puberty. The other, obviously a sister or cousin is in a T-shirt, shorts and sandals and is about 10. Both girls are looking and smiling at the camera.

-=o=-

I realize now it must have been puberty. That’s when my breasts started swelling and my period started. That’s also when my interest in boys rekindled. For a while, as a young school girl, I was curious about what boys looked like. A couple of my friends and I tricked a couple of our male classmates into making pee for us to satisfy that curiosity.

But it’s not like that now. Now I have a different kind of interests. Knowing what boys look like is one thing; knowing how having a penis makes them different more than just physically is another.

Let me backtrack a little.

Getting hold of the chastity device was pure luck. Back during the school year, my aunt was sent out of town for a training session. My job was to go to her house about mid-day, let the dog out make sure he had water and food and to water the plants. My uncle, a very nice man who always fawned all over my aunt and mother, worked late. He also had a brown thumb. He forgot about things like dogs and plants.

Of course, I was curious. I had the place all to myself so I started snooping. Where better to start than in my aunt and uncle’s bedroom? I went straight for my aunt’s dresser. Boy, did she have some really sexy bras and panties! I thought for a moment about taking some, but I didn’t want to risk it. Instead I got undressed – it felt funny getting naked in someone else’s bedroom - and tried some of her stuff on and looked at myself in the mirror. The girl looking back at me looked so sexy and confident.

I kept them on as I explored the closet. I slipped on a pair of her heels. There was a footlocker on the floor in the back. Unfortunately, it was locked. I looked behind it and saw something on the floor.

Whatever it was had apparently been meant to have been locked away, but somehow had fallen behind the box. It was dusty. It was either lost and forgotten or abandoned. But it fascinated me. I couldn’t leave it behind. I put it in my purse, not even knowing what it was at the time.

I tended to my zoological and botanical duties and got out of my aunt’s sexy apparel. I hated doing it but made up my mind I’d try a different outfit tomorrow, and carefully folded what I wore and stowed it exactly the way I found it. I got dressed back in my clothes and felt like a little girl again. My dream, my fantasy went up like a puff of magician’s smoke.

The next day, I went browsing on the internet using my aunt’s computer. Mom’s got mine locked up with all kinds of restrictions. I took a picture of the device with my phone and downloaded it to her computer. Then I dragged the picture into Google Image finder. I was shocked by the results! There was a flood of pictures of similar devices and some of them locked onto men’s penises!

I had to investigate more and only a couple of clicks more and I found myself on a site devoted to male chastity. I never knew such a thing existed. I read some of the posts and came to realize that by putting men in chastity, women controlled the men and the men did all in their power to please them.

I felt a trickle down in my crotch and cursed myself for not containing my pee. Then I realized that my bladder was empty. This was a new sensation for me. Unlike leaked pee, there was a pleasurable sensation associated with it.

And then I thought, “Oh my God! I found this in my aunt and uncle’s bedroom. Is that what she does to him?” Maybe that’s why he’s always so nice to her and my mom. I wonder if mom knows her sister does this. She must, my aunt and she share all their secrets.

I spent a good part of the afternoon researching my new topic. I knew that I would have to take a shower and put on clean panties before going to bed. I was so wet, that I gave no thought to trying on my aunt’s panties for fear of staining them.

Besides, I didn’t have much time left. Mom would question why it took so long to do my job. I went back to the bedroom to continue my sleuthing. Looking in my uncle’s dresser, I found a couple of magazines. They had lots of pictures and articles on female domination. The very words excited me: “female” and “domination.” That’s when it hit me. That’s what I wanted with boys. I didn’t want a normal boyfriend, I wanted one dedicated to me; one that I could boss around.

I sat there on the bed leafing through the magazines. I improvised a pad out of tissues just in case I leaked. I didn’t want to stain my aunt’s bedding. I took in as many of the stories as I could. I would have liked to have “borrowed” the magazines, but maybe my uncle would notice, so I took pictures of some of the pictures and tried to memorize the stories.

I would have like to have done more exploration, but this was my aunt’s last day of training and she would be home the next day, so my duties as dog-tender, plant-waterer and amateur detective came to an abrupt end.

All this was still fresh in the back of my mind a couple of days later as I was practicing hitting tennis balls in my back yard. I got a bit vigorous with one of my serves and the ball flew into the bushes of the house next door.

Fortunately, we’re very friendly with the family next door. When I was a little girl I would go over and play on their swing set. Their two sons are older. Greg is much older and already in college. The other boy, Gary, is a couple of years older than me. We were friendly enough. I remember him pushing me on the swing; but I really didn’t play with him that much due to the differences in our ages and genders. Still, he’s a very nice and polite boy.

So I hopped the fence (Yeah, I’m a bit of a tomboy) and went to retrieve the ball. As I wormed my way between the bush and the house, I came upon the bathroom window. Through it, I could see Gary kneeling in front of the toilet. I pulled back quickly afraid he might see me. Then, gathering my courage, she slowly moved my head forward. The bushes shaded the window so it was less likely he would notice me.

He had his pants pulled down, and was tugging on his penis. I’ve seen penises on the internet and I’ve even seen real penises on little boys. But this was real and this was big and it was no more than 10 feet away!

I watched in fascination as Gary manipulated his swollen organ. His face took on a contorted look and I had to stifle a gasp when I saw his semen leap from the tip of his penis. Time after time he repeated this squirting act.

Finally, he stopped spurting and pulling and reached for the toilet paper and I figured the show was over.

After that, I started spying on him. I’d wait until he came home from school and then go up to the window. I watched the show over and over and learned that he did it almost every day about five minutes after he got home.

A plan emerged in my mind. I took my phone with me and made a video. I wasn’t expecting much and I didn’t get much, but it was enough. It was a short video and it wasn’t the best video in the world, it was too dark but it did show who he was and what he was doing.

I sent the video to his phone with the message, “If you don’t want the girls in your class to see this, come over to my house at 3 tomorrow.”

My mom worked part time and was out of the house on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays until 6 PM. This was the time for me to put part two of my plan in action.

At precisely 3 PM, Gary rang my doorbell and I invited him in.

He wasted no time, “What do you want?” he asked.

I wasted even less time, “You!” I replied.

My demands were simple: he would come over three days a week and masturbate for me. I noticed that his Monday ejaculations were the best because he couldn’t masturbate over the weekend with his parents there. I bet he was cheating on me on the other days. He didn’t go to the downstairs bathroom anymore after school, but he probably did it at some other time in some other part of the house.

I decided to make him save it all for me by putting him in the chastity cage.

Although I liked seeing him cum, I also liked the way he begged to have the device removed and I liked the way he ejaculated when kept in chastity for a while, so I extended the sessions even to making him go without for a whole week once.

I had Gary on a Monday, Wednesday, Friday schedule. I normally let him jerk off on Mondays and Fridays, but on all three days, he would show up and do my chores while naked including washing and ironing my clothes and polishing my shoes (even though I wear sneakers nearly all the time).

Then one day my mom told me that my cousin Ginny would be coming to spend the summer with is while her mom was off to a school for work. I love Ginny. She’s a little more than a year younger than me and she sort of looks up to me.

I always have a good time with her whenever we get together, but now she became a problem. If I were going to spend all my time with her, then I would not have time for Gary.

I made up my mind. I had to bring her in. I pulled her aside the day she arrived and talked with her. I knew she knew what boys looked like. We both watched a woman change her baby boy in a ladies’ room once.

It didn’t take a lot of probing to find out that she had an experience similar to mine in the first grade: getting together with some of her female classmates to watch some of their male classmates make pee.

She did have the “talk” with her mom and apparently got the same sex ed courses I did. She knew about the birds and the bees and the body parts and that ovaries make eggs and testicles make sperm. The courses never did explain how the sperm gets from the testicles to the eggs, but both of us were smart enough girls to figure out that part A goes into part B and somehow the boy “pees” sperm.

Well, I now knew part of that somehow and was willing to share that information with her. I told her about my experiences with Gary. Then I dropped the bomb on her, “Do you want to see pictures and videos?”

“You *have* them? He let you take pictures of him naked and doing it?”

“He really didn’t have a choice,” I responded.

We waited for a convenient time when mom was busy with dinner and I showed her some of the pictures and videos I had of Gary masturbating.

“I have got to see that,” she exclaimed.

“Oh, you will. Starting tomorrow.”

The next morning, we were out riding our bicycles and we came upon Gary. We stopped and chatted. I told him, “This is my cousin, Ginny. She’ll be spending the summer with us.

I told her all about our ‘special arrangement’ and showed her the pictures and videos I have of you jerking off. She’s eager to watch you do it.

So I have a special treat for you: this afternoon when you come over, I’ll unlock you and you can masturbate as we watch. I know it’s a day early, but you have been a particularly obedient boy lately and she’s never seen a boy do it for real. I hope you put on a good show for us.”

Gary blushed and nodded.

Ginny smiled back at him, “I look forward to seeing you – all of you – this afternoon.”

Hope there will be a sequel!

160329-01

Picture: Very cute 12- or 13-year-old girl in multi-colored top and solid blue skirt. The girl is twirling her hair in one hand and has a sassy, flirting look.

-=o=-

Little sisters can be such pains and yet so delightful.

Cindy had just come in from her morning run. She was trying to get in shape so she could try out for the middle school cheer squad. She was hot and sweaty and after a short, cool-down period, took a shower.

She looked at her dirty clothes sitting in the corner of the bathroom. They were still too damp with her sweat to put in the hamper. The panties in particular were a mess. She had worn them all day the day before and now added sweat and other body fluids to it as a result of her run.

She decided to leave them be until after breakfast when she’d put the whole load directly into the wash. As she walked by the bedroom of her slumbering older brother, Hal, she could see him on his back with a tenting at his shorts. She had heard of “morning wood” and wondered about it and what it might look like.

She finished breakfast and jaunted up the steps to collect her clothes for the laundry. As she pushed the bathroom door open, she found her brother there, kneeling in front of the toilet, one hand on his erected penis and the other holding her panties up to his face.

“Omigod!” she said and made to turn away, but something snapped her back. The frightened little girl suddenly became a bold woman.

“What are you doing with my panties?” she demanded.

“Nothing.”

“Well how about I tell mom and dad about the nothing I just caught you doing?

… Wait a minute. How long have you been doing this?”

Hal returned a blank stare at his sister.

“How long have you been using my panties like this? I do the laundry around here and recently I’ve seen some funny staining on my panties in places I couldn’t possibly leak on.”

“I don’t know.” Was the response.

“Get dressed and come downstairs. I want to talk to you,” she said with so much anger and authority that the boy could do nothing but obey.

Hal was afraid when he walked downstairs to face the creature that his sister had become. What would she think of him? What would she tell others?

He didn’t know what to make of the smile she flashed at him when he walked in the kitchen. At least her words were soft. This time when she said, “Sit, I want to talk to you,” it was in a much calmer, loving tone of voice but still firm.

“It’s obvious you like doing what I just caught you doing,” she started. “I’m a little grossed out that you would be doing these things with my panties. To think, I wear these things.”

“I … I only do the dirty ones,” her brother interrupted.

“That’s good to know. I’m glad they’re clean when I put them on.

Now that I know what you are doing, I have a deal to make with you. I’ll let you use my panties like this if you let me watch what you do with them.”

“OK.”

“But that’s not all. I want to invite Phoebe and Tina over to watch too.”

“I … um.”

“Oh, don’t worry. We’re not going to tell anyone. As long as you obey us, we’ll keep this our own little secret. Just you, me and my two friends.

After all, we don’t want to spoil a good thing. Besides Tina’s mom lets her buy nice silky panties. How would you like to play with them? I can have them each bring some of their dirty panties over for you when they visit.

You know I am going to tell them anyway, so it’s only a matter of whether you do it for me and them from now on. It will be fun!

So what do you think. Do I tell mom and dad, or do I call the girls?”

“What time are Tina and Phoebe coming over?”

Love this story! Keep going please.

160402-01

Picture: Cute girl about 10 years old with colorful clips and bows in her hair. She’s wearing a flowered, spaghetti-strap top and solid-color matching shorts. She’s standing with hands on hips, sort of in a Wonder Woman pose but leaning a bit on one hip. She’s looking at the camera with a wry smile on her face as if she knows something but isn’t telling.

-=o=-

The taxi honked its horn. “OK kids, I’m going now,” Mrs. Anderson called up the stairs. “Come on down and say goodbye.”

The two children came bounding down the stairs.

Cindy gave her mom a hug. Vince just hung back. At 14 years old, he was “getting too big” to hug mom.

“I’ll give you kids a call as soon as I land. Aunt Bess will be over at about 2. Until then, I want the both of you to stay in the house.

Vince, you’re in charge. Please make sure you lock up after I leave.

Cindy, listen to your brother and don’t give him a problem.”

“Mom. I’m 11. I know how to stay out of trouble.”

The horn sounded again.

“OK kids, I love you.”

Both of the children returned a “Love you too mom.”

Both of them stood on the porch waving at the cab as it pulled out of the driveway and down the block. Then they went inside and closed and locked the door as their mom instructed them.

The bolt had hardly slid in the latch when Cindy said, “OK bro, drop them:” meaning his pants.

“Aw come on Cindy. Do we have to do this every time mom goes?”

“No we don’t, “When mom comes back, I can show her the pictures I have of you. There’s the original: the one where I caught you sniffing her panties. And then there are all the others I’ve taken of you since then: every one of them with you in an embarrassing situation and completely naked. I think I’ll send those to the girls in school.

So you don’t have to listen to me and you don’t have to take your clothes off.”

Vince was convinced. “OK, you’re the boss.”

“And don’t you forget it.

Mom gave us both a list of chores to get done before Aunt Bess arrives. You better get started so you’ll be done with all of them – yours and mine – before she gets here.

I’m calling Terri and Mandy over to help me supervise you.”

“Mom said that we couldn’t have anybody over.”

“I don’t think she meant my friends. Remember, I’m in charge and I make the rules. Besides, who’s going to tell her? I’m not and neither are you.”

“I don’t like when they see me.”

“You don’t like it because they make fun of you and because they help me spank you when you disobey.

Get used to it. They don’t have brothers like you that they can boss around, so we have to share like good friends do.

Mandy has a really high quality video camera, and she’s going to bring it along. Terri and I have our cell phones, so we’ll be taking pictures too.

If you’re a good boy, we’ll be the only ones to see them. Otherwise they just might go viral.”

160402-03

Picture: Apparently a “First day of 6th grade” picture. A girl with shoulder-length hair is standing in the hallway. She is wearing glasses and a schoolgirl uniform: a plain white, short-sleeved blouse and a blue and green, checkered skirt that barely touches the top of her knee. Her head is cocked to one side and she has an expression of annoyance on her face as if to say, “Let’s get this picture over with.”

-=o=-

I wasn’t happy going to live with my Cousin Pricilla or “Prissy” as she liked to be called, but there was no choice for it. After the tragic death of my parents, my Aunt Ellen was my closest surviving relative. For some reason, mom and dad avoided visiting with my aunt and cousin and we only met at public affairs like weddings and such. We never invited them to our house and we never visited with them.

So I packed up my things and moved in.

The good news is that it was only my aunt and my cousin which meant that there was enough room. The bad news was that it was only my aunt and my cousin without the slightest bit of male influence. The place reeked of estrogen. I was more than severely chastised for leaving the toilet seat up. I got the message – never again.

I was kind of hoping that being two years older than my cousin, that it would give me some rank. I would be the older, “big brother” to my cousin and that perhaps that would allow me to shape a relationship with her on my own or at least equal terms.

I really didn’t have a chance. My aunt favored her daughter, and Prissy lived up to her name. She was a very strong-willed girl who insisted on getting her way. Without any backup, I had to retreat further and further into the junior end of this partnership.

Step-by-step, my privileges started to be taken from me. Prissy got to control what we watched on TV. Prissy had priority on the computer, even to the point of kicking me off. Although Prissy and I had a bathroom between our bedrooms, it was for her private use only. I had to use the one in the hall.

My aunt also had a private bathroom in her bedroom. Nobody except me used the one in the hall, so why did it matter if I left the seat up. I decided not to argue the point.

Step-by-step, my rights started to be taken from me. Although I could not enter either my aunt’s or cousin’s bedroom unless specifically invited, they were allowed access to mine. First it was while I was away but then even when I was there. They didn’t even bother to knock!

But the bathroom was the worst. The hall bathroom didn’t lock. So anyone could walk in at any time, and they did. I had no idea why they needed to enter while I was taking a shower, but first my aunt and then Prissy would enter under some pretext.

I was told that I needed to take on my share of the housework and at first it seemed fair and I got the job of taking out the trash, mowing the lawn and doing other “manly work” about the house. To this list was added vacuuming, dusting, cleaning the bathrooms, washing the floors, making everyone’s bed every morning and laundry.

The laundry was a particular problem mainly because of the differences in the delicacies of the various items of female apparel. Almost every piece had to be washed separately.

Some of the panties in particular had to even be hand-washed.

What I really hated was Prissy’s school uniforms. She insisted on having the blouse and skirt pressed every night as well as polish her shoes and leave them outside her door every night.

I’ll never forget the time I did a poor job. Prissy got up, took her shower and got dressed for school. She smiled at me as she came down to breakfast that I was just putting out for her on the table. It wasn’t a pleasant smile. It was sort of like a smile a cat gets when looking at a mouse it intends on having for a snack.

She pointed to her foot. “There’s a scuff mark on my shoe. You failed to do your job properly.”

“I’m sorry, Prissy.”

“Sorry is not good enough. I can’t go to school with scuffed shoes, can I?”

“Of course not. I’ll polish them right now.”

“Indeed you will, but first you’re getting over my lap for a spanking.”

“She can’t do that,” I said turning to my aunt.

I got no sympathy there. “She’s the one you wronged, so she gets to punish you. Do as she says.”

I had no choice. So I submitted to my younger cousin’s discipline. She really didn’t spank that hard, but it was humiliating to receive a spanking at my age and even more humiliating to be over the lap of a girl three years my junior.

With the spanking completed, Prissy said, “Now you can polish my shoes.”

I was expecting her to take them off. Instead she sat down and said, “You can crawl under the table and do them as I sit here and wear them as I eat breakfast. And if I catch you looking up my skirt, you’re in for another spanking, boy.”

Things really got bad about a month later. My aunt was convinced that “all men are rapists” as she put it and she didn’t want to take a chance of having a rapist on the loose in the house. To remedy that she put me into a chastity device and told me that I could have the key when I moved out of her house. That was at least three years away!

It simply went downhill from there. Not only did Prissy get to spank me for the slightest offenses, but they became bare bottom spankings. She still didn’t hit hard – when she used her hand, so she escalated to her hair brush. My aunt also bought her a paddle that hung on the wall in the kitchen as a reminder.

Was I doomed to perpetual chastity? It turns out not. Prissy had somehow gotten a copy of the key. The only catch was that in order to get release, I had to do everything she said and then some to keep her in a good mood. It was going to be a long three years.

This is like the Readers Digest Condensed version of a long classic novel.
Lots of great stuff here that begs to be written out in full length.

For me the best part of the ENM story is how the girls capture the boy. These were a number of failed starts but it's OK by me if someone else takes the story and runs with it.

160407-01

Picture: 10-year-old girl with bangs and shoulder-length hair. She’s sitting on what looks like an office chair and wearing a school uniform: white sleeveless blouse with puffy shoulders and a button down pocket over each breast, a short navy-blue skirt and a red tie. She has a firm look on her face and is pointing with each hand to her lap as if to say, “get over it for your spanking.”

-=o=-

“Mom, Jason took my shoe and won’t give it back to me. I’m going to be late for school.”

“Jason, give Dora back her shoe. Stop teasing your sister,” Mrs. Wise said despondently.

When it came to the other things Jason did, taking his sister’s shoe hardly wiggled the needle.

After school Dora came to her mother, “Mom, we have to talk about Jason. He’s getting out of hand.”

“I know,” the elder Wise said. “What can I do. Ever since his birthday he’s been impossible. You put ‘teen’ after a boy’s age and all of a sudden, he thinks he’s a big man.”

“That’s the problem, mom. You still think of him as your cute little boy. He’s not. He’s a 13-year-old delinquent. He’s constantly messing with my stuff, he’s rude to my friends, you caught him smoking, Mrs. Burns caught him trying to lift her purse and what was that thing you caught him doing in the bathroom last week?”

“That’s none of your business, but you’re right. His behavior has gotten out of hand. But what can I do?”

“Mom, you’re too lenient with him. You let him get away with all these things and don’t even punish him. At best you yell at him to stop. There’s no consequences for his actions.

And it’s not only what he does around here; it’s what he doesn’t do. Does he take out the trash? Do the dishes? Wash the laundry? Heck even pick up his own messes? No. We do that for him like we’re his slaves.

You have to get tough with him, mom.”

“I don’t know if I can.”

“Well if you can’t I will.”

“What?”

“I’ll make him do these things but I need you to back me up.”

“But you’re only 10.”

“Almost 11. But I’m much more mature than Jason is.”

“OK, I guess.”

The first test came that very afternoon as Jason came in and tossed his jacket on the floor.

“Pick that up and put it in the closet,” Dora demanded.

Jason looked at her in shock. He never heard his sister stand up like this before. He recovered quickly and said, “Make me!”

Mrs. Wise jumped in, “Jason, listen to your sister. Pick it up and put it away.” Another voice that found its backbone.

“OK, mom,” he said meekly.

“And one more thing,” mom said while she was “on a roll,” “You will help your sister with the dishes tonight after dinner …” and after mustering up a bit more courage, “and every other night from here on.”

Dora smiled at her mom. Mrs. Wise smiled at her daughter. They were proud of each other for the minor victory over Jason. Each found courage in the other that she could not find on her own.

It escalated from there with Mrs. Wise giving Jason spankings whenever he did something wrong and after a while for his failure to do things right like forgetting to do a chore.

These were always witnessed by Dora. At first Jason accepted her presence but when their mom started to insist on bare-assed, over-the-knee spankings, he objected.

“But she’ll see,” he complained.

“*She* is you sister. *She* is part of this household. We are all part of this household. You defy one of us, you defy all of us. *She* is staying and that’s it.”

Dora smiled: mom found her backbone. There was nothing Jason could do to stop the Wise House females.

After his spanking, mom said, “I can’t be around all the time to supervise you and make sure you don’t get in trouble. So, I’m putting Dora in charge of you.”

“You can’t do that, mom; she’s just a little girl.”

“I can and I am. She’s a girl and that means she is more mature than you even if she is younger. If you give her any trouble or even back-talk, it’s over my lap for you. Do you understand?”

It was a fun time for Dora and she took to her job with enthusiasm. Jason wasn’t allowed to get away with a thing without her reporting him to her mom. She even got to suggest the severity of the punishment.

Over the coming weeks, Mrs. Wise was so impressed on how well her daughter handled her new relationship with her older brother that she decided to give Dora full privileges over her brother – including sending him to bed, grounding him and spanking him.

“Someday, you’ll be a mother yourself. You need to learn to do this,” her mom told her. “Start them early and you won’t have the problem we’re having now. I realize now that boys should be trained from an early age to be obedient.

You’ve been so responsible through all this. From now on you have total control over your brother. Do whatever you think is right. I won’t interfere unless you need me to back you up on anything.”

“Thanks, mom. I’ll do a good job; you’ll see. I think you’ll like the new Jason once I get done with him.”

“I’m sure I will.”

160407-02

Picture: A young girl in tank top and shorts on the phone at a computer. She’s smiling at the camera. On the screen … well, put your imagination to your favorite fantasy.

“Darla is turning 12 next week. I can’t believe my little girl is growing up so fast.” Janet Fox said.

Her sister Laura agreed, “Yes, it seems just like yesterday that my own two girls went through their own initiation.”

“I’m so glad Marcia and Judy are willing to sponsor Darla.”

“I don’t think they would have it any other way. Darla is like a little sister to them. Marcia couldn’t wait to induct Judy when she turned 12.”

“There is somewhat of a disadvantage of having the youngest girl in the family. She’s missed out on so much with her cousins.”

“Worse yet having the oldest boy. Imagine what it is like for Eileen’s son, Philip. He’s had his penis in the hands of his sister and every one of his female cousins except for your daughter.”

“Well, after this weekend they can all share. How many other girls will there be at the ceremony?”

“There are two other girls beside Darla.”

“I hope they have a good selection of boys. I mean a girl only goes through this once for the first time. The first time should be special.”

“Philip will be there, of course. Even though he’s 18 now and doesn’t have to do it any more, he feels he owes it to his little cousin.

I heard the other girls are bringing along their male relatives ages 15 and 16, I believe. So we should have a good selection of penises and a good show.”

Darla had already been introduced to naked males in her introductory training where she watched videos and some live demonstrations with boys masturbating in various fashions. She passed her basic written test and was now going for some “hands on training” that should last most of the weekend.

At first she’ll get to examine each boy: inside and out and then get to masturbate one under the guidance of her sponsors.

-=o=-

“I can’t believe it. I masturbated Phillip and I made him cum!”

“You did really good for your first time. You’re a natural,” Marcia said.

Judy put in her two cents, “Now that you’re ‘one of us,’ we can really have some fun. My sister and I can show you some games that we play with some boys we know.

Darla, do you know what frottage is?”

“No, what is it?”

“Frottage is something boys do. It’s getting sexual satisfaction by rubbing their penises against something. Technically, all masturbation is frottage: even if what the boy is rubbing his penis with is his hand. But quite often, the boys rub their penises against a fetish object.”

“What’s a fetish object?”

“Oh girl, you do have a lot to learn. We’ll teach you about that at some other time. In this case, the something we make the boys rub their penises against is the other boy’s penis.

It’s a delicate process. As a boy rubs his penis against that of another boy, he’s not only stimulating his opponent’s penis but his as well.

Sometimes we make them do it to each other as we watch. I mean, what’s the sense of being a girl if you have to do all the work yourself?

Sometimes we each take a penis and make the boys put their hands on their heads while we do the rubbing. In that case, it’s not just boy against boy, but girl against girl as each girl tries to show that she’s the better penis handler.

In either case, the boy who cums first is the loser, so both boys try to hold out as long as they can, but it’s no use. We girls know how to work a penis.”

“You mean you and Marcia.”

“I mean Marcia, me and some other girls. There’s a small group of us and we share our boys.”

“I’d like to see that.”

“The show isn’t over when the first boy cums. The loser has to kneel and lick his ejaculate off the other boy’s cock. Then he has to suck it until he makes the other boy cum. It’s so much fun to watch.”

Marsha picked up the conversation, “And that’s not the only thing we do with boys.

There are several fetishes based on attention to a boy’s penis: CFNM of course, small penis humiliation, forced chastity, cock and ball torture. We don’t do all of these, but the part that makes them interesting is that mostly they are unique to boys. For example, you can’t punish a girl by kicking her in the balls.

I saw one picture where two naked women were sitting on seats facing each other with their legs apart. Between them were two naked men on their hands and knees. The men were facing the women with the objective of pleasuring them orally. The men were attached by strings tied to their balls. The women had crops to hit the men’s behind and drive them towards the other woman.

Like frottage, it was a way to use a boy’s penis against him and to get two boys at the same time.”