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 ï>¿Dare Me by neverdoubted

   Dare Me - Chapter 14 - Mikey Gets a Dare (Part 5)

   The rest of breakfast was a bit of a blur.  Now back to fully erect, I
found myself shifting my weight from foot to foot and squeezing my hands
into fists behind my back in a futile attempt to relieve the warning
signals of discomfort coming from my throbbing dick.

   Did it help?  Not in the least.  Occasionally, I would close my eyes to
block out the world.  But that only seemed to make my throbbing sensation
grow more insistent.  When I couldn't take it anymore, I would open my eyes
only to find my own mother, seemingly lost in her own reverie, gazing
longingly at my happy soldier.

   When she had finally finished her coffee, she stood up and bid us
farewell.  "You two have fun.  I'll be back after my shifts," she said. 
Then, turning her head where she thought I couldn't see, she flashed her
daughter a wink and added, "Don't make him work too hard".

   As soon as she was gone, Lucy addressed me with a sly smile.  "So, you
want to help me with the garden, eh?  But you were just begging me to let
you stay inside." Shaking her head as if she was disappointed, she added,
"Boys can never make up their mind.  Come on, let's go."

   Even though her rude comment about boys deserved to be challenged, I had
more urgent needs.  And she had asked me a question.  So, I was technically
allowed to speak.  I had to try something for the sake of my poor, aching
equipment.

   "Wait!  I need to do something first!" I said, acting like it was life
or death.

   "What?" she asked, crossing her arms in irritation.  She looked annoyed,
like she had already decided to shoot down whatever unreasonable request
her petulant brother was about to make.  I had used up all her goodwill
convincing her to let me turn back at Mrs.  Davenport's porch.  But I
needed to relieve the pressure in my balls so badly that I was willing to
risk her wrath.

   "Please, I," I began, uncertainly.  I couldn't believe I was discussing
my private needs with my own sister, "...I can't keep going like this.  Can
I...um...take care of myself, real quick?"

   Her eyebrows rose for a second, then her face got stern.  I felt my
moment slipping away.  I searched my vocabulary, desperate to find just the
right words that would unlock her sympathies.

   "Please, I'll be quick, then we can continue, I promise.  You don't
understand how much it hurts to go this long without-"

   "DON'T TELL ME WHAT I DON'T UNDERSTAND!" she shouted.  Startled by her
unexpected outburst, I cut my little speech short.

   "I know exactly what it feels like," she said, launching into a speech
of her own, "you're the one who doesn't understand.  I've had to walk
around with that feeling inside me for days and days in a row with no end
in sight.  And every morning, from the moment I wake up, my body begs me
for relief.  It demands my full attention and doesn't let go.  It nags at
me endlessly until I can't think.  I can't concentrate on anything else.  I
just go crazy.  And you can't even get through one...freaking...morning
without constantly blubbering for favors and help?!  Try going to school
like that, then maybe you can talk."

   In hindsight, perhaps it was a mistake to bring her into the equation. I
opened my mouth to rescind my request, but she was on a roll.

   "You want relief?  Fine!" she spat out, "I'll give you the exact same
courtesy you gave me; ten seconds to do whatever you need to do.  In fact,
if you can finish in that time, I'll even let your dare be over.  But if
you fail, I don't want to hear another word from you for the rest of your
dare."

   Wow.  I stood there cowed.  I had never seen her this angry before.  And
to have all the vitriol seemingly directed at me was a little intimidating.
But more importantly, setting her mini rant aside, it sounded a lot like
she was granting me permission to proceed.

   Unfortunately, despite already revealing practically all my secrets to
her, my brain had a little trouble convincing my hand to go through with
the deed right in front of her.  That is, until she added, "your time
starts now, unless you don't want it anymore..."

   With the clock ticking, I swallowed my pride, threw out all remaining
shreds of my dignity, and got to work pleasuring myself.  My first priority
was to address my tight, aching balls.  Reaching down with my right hand, I
performed a firm squeeze and was immediately rewarded for my effort as the
endless outward pressure in my overloaded scrotum was temporarily
interrupted.

   It felt so good that my knees literally buckled, and I had to grab the
counter with my other hand to keep from falling to the floor.  I would have
loved to stay and explore the strange and foreign sensation of fondling my
freshly shaved sack, but time was precious.

   Releasing my balls, I adopted a well-practiced grip on the middle of my
penis.  It was alarmingly hot to the touch, but I didn't have time to worry
about that.  Lucy's mouth fell open and she stared in fascination as I
began earnestly stroking my hand up and down my turgid pole in a manner not
dissimilar to the way her own dainty hand had been doing only a few minutes
earlier to lead me around by my cock.  The only difference was that my
strokes were faster and traveled further than hers had.

   My own mouth also fell open into an "O" shape as wave after wave of
intense arousal radiated outward with every pleasurable stroke.  In fact, I
lost control of my whole face.  I could feel it twisting out of control
into an undignified and strained look.  My vision blurred as my eyes rolled
back in my head.

   "Time!" she called out mere moments later and a little too
enthusiastically.  I couldn't believe it was already over.  I had failed.
My eyes shot open in disbelief at how quickly the ten seconds had zoomed
by. She grabbed my right hand and, with some pulling, got it to reluctantly
let go of its best friend.

   I let out a pitiful whimper which morphed into a groan.  My hanging
balls went back to reminding me that they were still uncomfortably full
while my swollen cock throbbed angrily with every beat of my heart.

   "All right, time to get to work," she said cheerily while pulling the
door open, "and I better not see those hands budge from behind your back,
no matter what!" Then she stepped out into the back yard.  I groaned again.
With my incredibly brief hand job left unfinished, I regretted having ever
started it in the first place.  I was even more miserable than before.

   Left with no other option, I let out another groan, then clasped my
hands firmly behind my back and turned to follow her.  In contrast to her
complete gardening outfit, she did not allow me any sort of covering, not
even shoes or a hat.  Fortunately, the heat of the day had not arrived yet.
Actually, the temperature was rather pleasant.  I suppose it helped that I
didn't have a layer of clothes to trap in any warm air or block the cooling
gusts of wind.

   She was disinclined to lead me around by my penis this time.  I guess
getting a front row seat to her very first male masturbation demonstration
had made her question the wisdom of approaching the thick, ominously
pulsing appendage.  Instead, she just asked me to follow behind her.

   While I would have chosen to take my exposed butt back inside, Lucy's
garden was still much preferable to hanging out naked in the middle of the
street.  At least back there, no one would catch sight of the naked
fourteen-year-old boy sporting the biggest erection in his life taking an
au naturel stroll through his little sister's garden.

   As my bare toes sank into the soft topsoil, I tried to keep an eye on my
steps to make sure I didn't trample anything underfoot.  But every time I
looked down, my throbbing pole stared up at me angrily.  I was starting to
understand what Lucy had been saying about how preoccupying arousal can be.

   While she worked her way up and down the rows, she made comments about
her plants like they were her babies.  I guess, in a way, they were.  I was
so distracted thinking about my failed masturbation attempt and pondering
when the next opportunity would come, that every time she spoke, it took an
immense effort on my part to stop thinking about my erection or the cool
breeze caressing my freshly shaved body and give her my attention.

   That distraction came back to bite me in a severely degrading way when
Lucy, annoyed by my lack of focus, decided I needed a little obedience
test. She was crouching between two leafy green vegetables complaining
about some pesky weeds that had dared to take up residence without
permission.  Lifting her spade within my reach, she casually said, "hold
this".

   Without even thinking, I went to grab it from her.  Immediately, she
clicked her tongue in disapproval and said, "that's one point for later! 
What did I say?  Hands stay behind your back, no matter what."

   I felt like she had tricked me.  If I hadn't moved to take the spade,
she would have accused me of not following a direct order.  But by moving
my hands, she was accusing me of not following an earlier order.  It wasn't
fair!

   I started to open my mouth to voice a protest of her unfair treatment.
But I just knew she would count that against me, too.  So, I could only
shut my mouth and quickly return my hands to my back.

   But that didn't stop her from continuing to hold out the spade.  I gave
her a perplexed look as I tried to figure out how she expected me to hold
her tool and keep my hands behind my back at the same time.  Looking me up
and down, an idea struck her.  The wicked grin that appeared on her face a
second later made my heart drop.

   The spade had a thin, leather loop running through the hole in its
handle so you could hang it up if you wanted.  My eyes went wide as she
separated the leather into a circle.  Lifting it up, she found it was just
big enough to fit over the bulging head of my penis.  She let it slide down
my shaft until it encircled the base of my cock.

   When she let go, she was encouraged to find my sturdy, thick post was
easily strong enough to hold up her little spade.  Giving her freed hands a
tiny clap, she crouched down and made quick work of the weeds.  Then she
took off again down the row, motioning me to come along as if what she had
just done was in no way out of the ordinary.  I stared in stunned disbelief
at the foreign object adorning my stiff pole like the world's weirdest
necktie or something.  I still couldn't quite believe it was real.

   It was so utterly ridiculous that I probably should have called foul on
the whole exercise.  I mean, when had I ever put her through something this
degrading and humiliating?  Well, yeah, she had already rudely reminded me
of the whole ten second orgasm challenge I put her through several months
ago.  And I suppose I did send her out trick-or-treating once in a
disintegrating Halloween costume.  And, sure, there was that time I made
her get one of her classmates to sign her naked body at school before
gifting him her panties.  Then there was the airplane...

   Ok, there may have been some similarities there.  But that did not
change the fact that this time I was on the receiving end of the
humiliating task.  I hadn't decided whether to file a formal complaint yet.
But considering I had just survived breakfast with my mom seeing my naked
shaved privates.  This didn't seem too bad.  Taking a tentative step, I
found the spade to be not burdensomely heavy.  It didn't really weigh me
down or anything.  But that first step did produce a gentle tug on the base
of my cock from the leather strap.

   Experimenting, I found that, by keeping my strides short, I could
minimize the swaying of the spade and its pull.  I could not prevent the
upper tip of its wooden handle which was pressing against my ball sack from
jostling my balls as it rolled back and forth with every step.  But I can't
say I found the gentle massaging sensation entirely objectionable.

   As I caught up to my sister, she did not give me even a second to think
or regroup.  Rather, treating me like nothing more than a plaything or an
inanimate object, without even bothering to ask permission, she lifted two
more tools she had acquired along the way and added them to my collection.
Then she took off again, calling out an admonishment to keep up.

   This was getting out of hand.  My mind still not made up whether to
continue, I took stock.  One of the tools was nothing more than a long
metal stick which flattened and split near the end.  That one did not
concern me.  The other, however, worried me greatly.  It looked kind of
like a rake or pitchfork, but with its three pointy tines bent at a
ninety-degree angle.  I later found out it was used for tilling soil and
breaking up stubborn chunks of dirt.  But right then, I was more worried
about the sharp tips scraping against my bare, unprotected legs.

   Ultimately, despite the unexpected new additions, I convinced myself to
keep going.  I figured I had already endured so much humiliation at her
hands.  Surely, I thought, I was in the home stretch of my dare.  How much
sweeter would it be the next time she asked me for one knowing I had taken
every embarrassing shot she could think to dish out and was still standing
tall?

   Despite a few hiccups, I was proud of how I had performed.  So blinded
was I by the aching in my loins and my body's acute need for sexual relief,
that I incorrectly assumed I was nearing the finish line.  Oh, how wrong I
was!



   Dare Me - Chapter 14 - Mikey Gets a Dare (Part 6)

   Whenever Lucy found the need, she would giddily reach over and lift one
of the tools off her naked human tool peg.  Sometimes she would have to
pull others off to get to the one she wanted.

   Gradually, she overcame her shyness and grew more curious about my
helpful, and versatile appendage.  A ritual of sorts soon developed. 
Whenever she needed something, she would wipe her hands on her apron to
make sure they were clean and free of dirt.  Then, she would kneel in front
of me to ensure easy access.

   Reaching up with both hands, she would slide her soft fingers onto my
ball sack.  It seemed to fascinate her how easily she could dent the
seemingly tight skin of my shaved scrotum.  After picking out the tool she
needed, she would slowly slide the loop upward with both her hands;
deliberately letting her fingers explore every contour and ridge of my warm
shaft.

   She seemed particularly intrigued by the plump, pink mushroom that
capped my member.  More than once, she intentionally made sure the cord got
caught under the rim of my cock head.  Then she would "accidentally" tug
until my entire pole was bent down toward her.  She giggled in delight as
the cord would finally slip free and my penis would pop back up to its
original erect state before offering an insincere, "oops, sorry."

   She finished working in the vegetable garden then made us move over to
check on her flowers.  Every time she needed a tool, she grew a little more
comfortable with the process and I found her taking her sweet time
familiarizing herself with my impressive equipment.  Eventually, I couldn't
help but react to the caress of her soft fingers against those most
sensitive parts of my body.

   The rake's loop was made of a different material than the other two; not
leather.  Its rough, plant-based fiber did slightly irritate the freshly
shaved, already tender crevice -(TM)s between my scrotum and my thighs;
especially whenever it got a turn being closest to my body.  It was also
longer.  That tended to make it settle in around my ball sack as I walked
instead of just riding on the base of my cock like the other two.

   She practically had to cup and fondle my balls every time she needed the
rake, which seemed to be pretty often.  The act always made my toes curl,
and my eyes roll back in my head.  When her work was complete, she removed
the tools for the last time and put them away.

   My heart started beating faster as my excitement grew.  Thinking I had
made it to the finish line, I was actually smiling when she returned.  I
was willing to put up with my still very uncomfortable erection long enough
to get inside and reach my long-denied orgasm.

   I didn't say anything, but just looked at her with a bright, expectant
smile.  All she had to do was announce the end of my dare and I was home
free!  But she threw me for a loop when she instead said, "looks like you
got a little dirty.  Do you need a bath?"

   I had already taken a shower that morning, but she wasn't entirely off
base.  While she had taken extra care to make sure my shaved area remained
clean and pristine, the gardening tools swaying back and forth against the
fronts of my legs all morning had left traces of dirt behind.  It wasn't
terrible.  I would normally have just brushed it off and gone about my day.
But Lucy apparently did not share that opinion.

   My face fell and my shoulders slumped.  I could feel my orgasmic
opportunity slipping away once again.  But then, I noticed something.  She
had asked me a question!  That meant I was allowed to talk.

   "Well...um, I thought my dare was, like...almost over," I said
hopefully, trying not to let the horny desperation in my voice overshadow
my statement.

   "Almost," she said, "but, not until I say so.  You at least have to give
me a massage, first.  Then you can be done." Then, grabbing me by my turgid
handle, she added, "come on, let's get you cleaned up."

   At the mention of a massage, my attention wasn't the only thing that
perked up.  She was, of course, referring to a breast massage.  After all,
it is the reason she had shown up naked in my bedroom that morning.  She
had been waiting impatiently for another chance to have Dave's special
sauce worked directly into her growing breasts for months.

   As she led me by my cock back inside, my heart started racing.  I
mentally high-fived myself at having survived an entire dare with only my
sister and mother seeing me naked.  I had to admit, Lucy had definitely
experienced much worse during her dares.

   At the same time, I couldn't help but wonder about my bath.  What did
she mean by "let's get you cleaned up"?  Did that mean she intended to be
the one to bathe me?  More importantly, was she going to make me wait until
after I had completed her massage before I could masturbate?

   ...or was she going to...join me in the tub?!  I had given her breast
massages before while she sat naked in the bathtub.  But had always been
fully clothed.  I didn't think I could make it through an entire naked
massage session in my current aroused state.  The way her soft, guiding
hand was gently jacking me as we walked down the hallway drove me to the
brink of cumming.  I wasn't even sure I would be able to make it to the top
of the stairs without losing control!

   Just then, as we were walking through the entryway on our way to the
stairs, my fantastic reverie was broken by the ominous sound of the
doorbell.

   "Who could that be?" she wondered aloud.  My blood ran cold as she led
me to a spot near the far wall and turned me to face the front door.  As
she approached the door, some terrible premonition silently screamed inside
me to make a run for it.  But the rest of my hyper-aroused body struggled
to think of anything else but our bath.

   I had already turned the page from my dare.  Now all I could think about
was finally getting to cum.  Every other concern paled in the light of that
singular thought.

   "So, somebody's at the door," my brain reasoned to itself, "big deal! 
It's probably just a bill collector."

   She had intentionally placed me in the perfect spot where my naked body
would be totally exposed if she chose to swing the door open wide. 
Somehow, I convinced myself she wouldn't go through with something like
that, though.  She would not be interested in wasting a lot of time, right?
She had said herself how eager she was to get on with her massage.  Whoever
it was, surely, she would dispose of him in short order.  Then we could get
right back to our bath.  Why did my skin all of the sudden feel cold?

   I couldn't see outside, but as she cracked the door open, I saw her eyes
widen and a big smile formed on her face.  Suddenly, my mental reassurances
that everything would be ok didn't seem so solid.  I found myself
involuntarily holding my breath as my lungs decided to stop working.

   Despite feeling a little lightheaded, I forced my feet to stay rooted in
the exact spot she had placed me.  I didn't want to give her any excuse to
change her plans.  I was so close to my orgasm I could practically feel it
bubbling up!  Taking great care to suppress the urgency in my loins, I did
keep myself upright and even managed to get my lungs working long enough to
suck in a single, tense breath.

   Lucy widened the crack a bit then leaned against the door.  I saw her
lips moving but was perplexed when nothing came out of them.  Her casual
posture and welcoming smile did not resemble someone in a hurry to wrap up
the encounter with the stranger on the other side.  Every second that
passed dealt another blow to my hastily constructed delusion of safety.

   A worry crept in that she might actually go through with exposing me to
whomever was on the other side.  I gulped at that thought even though my
mouth was dry.  That's when I realized the pounding of my heartbeat had
filled my ears and was muffling my hearing.  When I swallowed, the
sensation eased somewhat, and I could hear Lucy's voice again.  Then the
stranger spoke.  It was a girl's voice!

   Suddenly feeling extremely vulnerable and exposed, I strained my ears to
catch the gist of their conversation.

   "...elder folks to be exceedingly friendly and welcoming.  So, if most
folks in your community are, as you say, elder.  Why does no one answer the
door for us?" asked the girl.

   ...

   ...

   Wait, did she just say "us"?