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 ï>¿Dare Me by neverdoubted

   Dare Me - Chapter 14 - Mikey Gets a Dare (Part 9)

   Please indulge me while I tell you a little story.  In the early 19th
century, a group of like-minded people came together in a rural part of
what was then the American frontier.  The people were agrarian in nature
and shared similar opinions on hard work, family, and religion.  A
prosperous new community soon developed centered on these ideals.

   Able to sustain themselves, the people, who came to call themselves The
Faithful Believers had little need to engage in the events of the outside
world which they often saw as a temptation to rebel against their values.
Somewhat insulated from greater society, the community grew and flourished
for over a hundred years.  In that time, a distinctly conservative culture,
out of sync with modern society, developed.  The result was not unlike
something you might find in an Amish settlement.

   In 1926, following several years of particularly bountiful harvests, the
Believers learned about a severe famine affecting the poorest parts of
central Africa.  Many members of the group were moved to do something about
it.  So, they sent missionaries along with large quantities of crops and
farming equipment with the goal to convert the heathens and teach them how
to grow food for themselves.

   Initially, the mission was a great success as the missionaries were able
to deliver their supplies to those most in need of aid.  They were invited
to live among the people and found them receptive to learning about better
farming and water conservation techniques.

   The missionaries were surprised to find that, while the people there did
live relatively simple lives, their culture and traditions were far from
primitive.  They wrote lengthy letters back home describing in vivid detail
all aspects of their experiences living in the heart of Africa.

   Back in America, every letter was received with great joy and passed
around among all the families to be read aloud.  But sadly, this story does
not have a happy ending.  The last letter the Believers ever received
mentioned strife growing within the tribe.  Some sort of cultural
misunderstanding had occurred which the missionaries were having trouble
translating.

   After that, the letters simply stopped arriving.  Efforts were made to
reach out and learn what had happened to the missionaries.  But the
investigators who were sent returned to report that, tragically, the
missionaries had been slaughtered and all the gifted farm equipment had
been utterly destroyed.

   Considering the mission a shameful failure, the church leaders had the
once cherished letters bound into a book.  The book was placed in a far
corner of a church library to be forgotten.

   Many years later, a girl with a rather unusual name was born and raised
in their community along with her sisters.  One of the most unorthodox
traditions of the Faithful Believers was the naming of their children. 
Rather than the parents choosing their children's names, the elders of the
faith would come together in prayer whenever a baby was born until they
received what they claimed was a revelation from the Lord.  To an outsider,
it might seem like they had just gone through an old Bible and picked from
big, important sounding words.  But the practice stuck around because it
had served the Believers well for generations.

   The elders thought that, by bestowing an important or positive religious
quality on a person, the baby would be supernaturally imbued with that
quality.  A skeptic could argue that it was simply a result of the quality
being nurtured in a person from a young age and that there was nothing
supernatural about it.  After all, if everyone called a kid "Clumsy" his
whole life, what are the odds that kid would grow up to be a juggler? 
Still, no matter how it happened, it was uncanny how often a baby grew up
to embody their assigned qualities.

   So, while Fervid Supplication might sound like quite a strange name for
a young lady, within the community of Faithful Believers, it made perfect
sense.  It was also an accepted practice, especially when your given name
was a mouthful, to find a way to abbreviate it.  This made interactions
with people outside the community less difficult.  In short, Fervid
Supplication went by something much simpler: Cate.

   One day, charged with finding some subject her home-schooled siblings
could study as a research project, Cate paid a visit to the little library
in town.  Coming across the mysterious book, forgotten, and gathering dust
in a remote shelf, she began reading it and became hooked.  Living in a
patriarchally oriented community, the list of appropriate topics of study
for girls was rather small.  But church history and missions were very much
allowed, and even encouraged.

   Taking it home, she and her sisters grew fascinated by the stories in
those letters, especially the vivid cultural descriptions of daily life in
the village.  They were also convicted, even those many years later, that
something should be done to help those poor African farmers and their
families.

   Scrutinizing the limited information provided by the letters, the girls
pieced together, as best they could, a composite of the culture described
by the missionaries.  They developed a presentation demonstrating various
aspects of tribal living - particularly what young women and girls of the
tribe might experience day to day.

   The community elders granted the girls permission, under Cate's
supervision, to go into neighborhoods of larger cities and towns nearby. 
The girls planned to go house to house and present their finished project;
asking people to donate until they had raised enough money for another
African aid package.

   And that's the story of how, in the middle of my naked dare, a group of
girls came to be standing on our porch that day.  Our neighborhood just
happened to be the very first one they stopped at.  And Lucy was the first
person willing to listen to their pitch without closing the door in their
face.

   Lucy insisted we didn't have any money to spare.  But Cate felt
passionate about such a worthy cause and would not be deterred.  She saw an
opportunity in Lucy for her sisters to practice and hone their pitch to
future potential supporters.

   "No money is required," she assured my sister, "I would not burden you
with such expectations.  However, some of my sisters are a little nervous
about performing their parts.  Giving them the opportunity to practice in
front of another girl their age would be an immense help to our cause. 
Also, I fear we have made our presentation too long and need to trim back
some areas.  Do you think you could help us with that?"

   That's when Lucy had said, "Why didn't you say so?  Sure, we can be your
audience!  Why don't you all come inside and meet my brother?"

   At that, she unceremoniously swung the door wide open and finally
revealed her naked brother to the entire group.  I'm pretty sure my soul
left my body as three more girls were treated to everything I had to offer
for the first time.  There were now six cute girls of various ages standing
in a semi-circle just outside our open front door.

   I was seconds away from all the girls piercing my last cushion of
modesty, the short distance separating us.  Once they entered the room,
they would be able to inspect every intimate detail of my naked cock from
every angle.  My sole focus in that moment became getting my embarrassingly
stiff penis to go down, even a little bit, before that happened.

   Overwhelmed in my shame, I turned once again to the only coping method
available to me.  I closed my eyes, letting the darkness envelop my world,
and tried to turn my shaky breaths into ones of relaxation.

   After several deep, calming breaths, I finally felt it move.  I must
have looked ridiculous to them, standing there meditating while the bulging
tip of my penis began to droop inch by agonizing inch.

   Having been raised to respect hospitality and not be rude, the girls
hesitantly accepted Lucy's invitation by inching their way into the room
despite the naked boy standing inside.  By then, my shaft had lowered from
its fully erect position to a lower angle but refused to yield any further.
Riviera Dave's stubborn chemicals still coursing through my system insisted
on keeping me in a semi-hard state.

   The nervous tension was palpable as everyone stood in an awkward silence
for a few seconds.  Fortunately, our foyer was large enough for everyone to
fit and to keep a buffer between each of them and the naked male.

   Lucy finally addressed the naked elephant in the room by saying, "this
is my little brother, Mikey.  He was helping me in the garden and got dirt
everywhere!  We were just on the way to get him cleaned up.  But I guess
his bath can wait until after your presentation."

   My eyes shot open when I heard her refer to me as her "little brother".
What a ridiculous lie!  Wasn't it obvious that I was older and more mature
than her?  Then again, my shaved privates were sending mixed signals of
immaturity.

   The trusting girls had no reason not to believe Lucy's lies about being
older than me as well as her innocuous explanation for my lack of clothes.
After all, her "sibling in charge" responsibilities already included being
the one to answer the door.  Why not add unilaterally making decisions
about her little brother's bath schedule while she's at it?

   Despite being asked to believe my nudity was a simple matter of
inopportune timing - they just happened to interrupt a big sister about to
give her little brother a bath - they kept their distance from the naked
boy for obvious reasons.  The oldest of the group, having been charged with
everyone's safety, seemed most bothered by certain prominent incongruities.

   For one, I towered over Lucy.  In fact, I was as tall or taller than
everyone in the room.  Sure, I had a hungry, underfed frame which might be
mistaken as childish from a distance.  But upon closer scrutiny, my naked
body sported sinewy, teenage muscles rippling beneath the skin all over.

   But an even more conspicuous puzzle was my bulging manhood.  A boy might
pop a stiffy from time to time.  But a pre-pubescent boy capable of
sporting a massive, eight-inch erection?  While I was no longer fully
erect, every beat of my strong heart was still being transmitted into my
member.  Now hovering parallel to the ground, my thick member swayed back
and forth in the air like it was trying to conduct an orchestra while
drunk.

   To any observer, me being her little brother was surely a hard story to
swallow.  If not for my sister's casual attitude about my nude state, my
lack of pubic hair, and my passive, nonthreatening demeanor, the girls
probably would have run screaming from the house by now.

   Finally, after a few awkward seconds where it felt like everyone was
just staring at me, the oldest one seemed to make up her mind.  I think,
with every second that ticked by that nothing bad happened, she grew more
at-ease until she was comfortable enough with the strange circumstances to
at least risk proceeding.

   Deciding that our foyer was big enough to accommodate, the leader put
the girls to work hauling in their equipment from the porch and preparing
for the presentation.  Lucy offered her services and directed traffic, but
I wasn't allowed to lift a finger to help.  My job was to stand as still as
a statue and provide a boost to morale.

   They carried in a hand-woven basket filled to the brim with supplies as
well as a tin tub that was big enough for a small child to sit in, and a
large cooking pot overflowing with dry goods and spices.  While they were
unpacking, the girls found every excuse to stop and appreciate my nude
display.  I was bothered by the excited whispers being constantly passed
between them.  My ears burned knowing I was the subject of their hushed
conversations.

   With everyone -(TM)s help, except mine, everything was soon setup, and
they were ready to begin.