Saturday, June 6, 2015

Stroking the Male - Segment XI

Melanie Partland dutifully applies herself. Algebra... not sure of its significance... but she focuses and achieves. Bright and precocious, she is aware of household changes of late, furtive conversations, brother Randy skipping the school bus and arriving home so late.

Something’s going on, and youthful curiosity must be satiated. It is thus natural that when siblings Randy and Susan step into the bathroom together, Melanie quietly interrupt her studies and approach the closed bathroom door.

Randy is too old to be bathed, a task big sister Susan so often performed over the years.

What’s going on?

Ear to the door, she will listen and learn... more than algebra.


“Let me look at your penis. I am here to help.”

Susan stands arms akimbo, seeming to tower over a shy Randy, silently resisting her command to drop his pants. Finally she reaches forth and begins to unbuckle.

“I’ve seen you naked enough times... once more won’t make a difference,” the scolding words coming as she gruffly works, deliberately pressing where she knows Randy to be now quite sensitive.

“Ok, Ok,” Randy stepping back, reaching to replace her hands with his.

He unbuckles, unzips, pulls down his pants and closes his eyes in shame. Susan finds herself stifling laughter, lest Melanie’s study be disturbed.

“Wherever did you get that?” her hand going to her mouth to further repress giggling.

“May I take it off, Miss Susan?”

Randy’s hands move to his hips, fingers gripping the waistband of an undergarment Susan has not before seen. Silk, powder blue as with the restraints of Mrs. Breckenridge, the garment is really a male ‘G’ string, an effeminate glossy blue pouch covering his penis and testicles and nothing else, held in place by thin elastic strings about the waist and between his cheeks.

Though embarrassing, Randy has found a degree of comfort, just as Mrs. Boughton foretold when she confiscated his underpants and instructed him to so dress. Penis chafed, scrotum raw from shaving, the smoothness is appreciated.     

“Yes, by all means. A gift from Mrs. Breckenridge?”

“Well... she has an assistant. She prepares me... for the therapy.”

Randy shyly lowers the ‘G’ string, his feet stepping out, exposing that which Mrs. Breckenridge’s bacon greased hands masterfully worked for a good part of the afternoon. Susan seats herself on a low stool and summons Randy to step proximate... a full inspection required.

Well aware of the nature of Mrs. Breckenridge’s therapeutic counseling, there remains awe. Every inch of Randy’s male organ is the color of lobster. And with all hair removed, displayed so prominently.

“You’ve shaved.”

“No, Mrs. Boughton... Mrs. Breckenridge’s assistant.”

“Did you enjoy that? Having a woman handle you?” Susan reaching to tenderly palm the rawness.

“I... well... I had no choice,” Randy grimacing with the slightest touch.

“That doesn’t answer the question,” Susan’s knowing fingers bringing another grimace as she carefully skins back the foreskin as gently as possible.

There is irony that her touch brings torment... and it amuses her... the male normally taking delight in being so sensually toyed by a woman. 

Silence ensues as Susan closely inspects. Yes, beneath the foreskin the glans penis has been rubbed to equal rawness. Not a millimeter of the penile flesh has escaped the steel wool. There will be no self masturbation... no frottaging against the sheets... no soiled bed linen. Not tonight... not for many nights to come.

And then there’s the Friday therapy session coming...

“Hold still,” Susan’s left hand continuing to palm and lift the chafed cylinder of flesh.

She reaches for soothing ointment, recalling the days of tending to the diaper rash of an infant Randy. She squeezes, the contents of the tube oozing onto the top of the shaft, smiling in seeing Randy lurch, the unguent bringing shock but also cooling relief to the supersensitive male appendage. Next her fingers work it in, looking up into the eyes of the embarrassed Randy. Interesting that he so meekly places his hands atop his head in a pose of subservience, wordlessly letting her have her way with his precious manhood.

Normally a deed of foreplay, it is curious that in Randy’s mind her attention is deemed asexual. And Susan finds the transformation to be delightful. A brash and mischievous Randy is now so quiet and polite... sexually subdued. And she has attained more control.

Yes, ‘Miss Susan’ is now definitely in charge.


“Now pull that up, buckle your pants and get some studying done,” Susan pointing to the ‘G’ string. “I like the look. And it obviously makes your penis comfortable. I’ll buy more sets, have you wear them for me when Melanie’s not about the house.”

Ear remaining at the door, Melanie hears her name, sister Susan’s words indicating that the inspection has concluded. Yes, she listened with rapt attention upon hearing the initial words, ‘let me look at your penis. I am here to help’. Brother Randy has evidently undergone some ordeal involving ‘his thingy’, as girls Melanie’s age are wont to reference the male organ.

She tiptoes back to her room, understanding that ostensibly she is not to be aware of brother Randy and sister Susan’s bathroom rendevous.... particularly of the intimacy.

But much of the overheard conversation has served to further stoke her curiosity. Beneath his pants, brother Randy is wearing something that surprises... a gift from some woman. And sister Susan is pleased with it... yet it is not to be worn in front of Melanie. And there are references to therapy... being shaved...

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