Dare Me (new 7/29)
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Dare Me - Chapter 14 - Mikey Gets a Dare (Part 9)
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’s help, except mine, everything was soon setup, and they were ready to begin.
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’s help, except mine, everything was soon setup, and they were ready to begin.
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Re: Dare Me (new 5/16)
I'm glad we got some measurements. Throughout your stories both of them, thornwood and this, it was normally quite hard for me to visualise sizing of stuff. Especially after characters in each went through growth changes. This was a chapter I really enjoyed! Seems like you are building to something even more embarrassing.
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Re: Dare Me (new 5/16)
No requirements. But I didn’t get around to it today. It’s going to have to wait until Friday.
Re: Dare Me (new 5/16)
I found the backstory on the African missionary expedition during the Roaring Twenties interesting and the background of the six girls visiting Lucy and Mikey creates many possibilities. I'm going to have to stay tuned for Friday's episode.
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Dare Me - Chapter 14 - Mikey Gets a Dare (Part 10)
Dare Me - Chapter 14 - Mikey Gets a Dare (Part 10)
Before starting, the ringleader, who was also the oldest, explained their reason for coming. She told us the same story I just told you before proceeding to introductions and greetings.
I found a few things came in handy identifying them and keeping everyone straight. First, they all happened to be spaced perfectly two years apart in age from eleven to nineteen. The oldest, who were nineteen and seventeen, were the two girls who had been speaking with Lucy on the porch earlier out of my eyesight. The next oldest, the cute girl who had studied me up and down appreciatively through the front doorway, was fifteen. The twins were thirteen, and the smallest was eleven years old.
Lucy and I were both confounded when the oldest made a curtsy and told us her name was “Fervid Supplication”. At first, I thought I had misheard her or had a brain glitch. They didn't even sound like real words to me - certainly not a person's name!
But apparently, she was accustomed to her name confusing outsiders and was quick to provide further details. We were still quite confused even after she gave us the definitions. Fortunately, she put us at ease by saying we could call her "Cate", which was a lot easier to remember.
Cate had a graceful, pleasant beauty about her. Her well-proportioned nineteen-year-old body had more curves than any of her sisters and her skin was as smooth as porcelain. She looked like someone who had outgrown the follies of youth and was ready for the womanhood chapter of her life.
While her pale skin tone matched her sisters, she had darker hair, almost black, and her eyes were deep pools of brown. Her clothing had a peculiarity that stood out to me. All the homemade dresses were finely crafted. But Cate's brown dress had unexpected lines all over it - extra seams, patches, and stitches where none belonged.
When she caught me looking at her dress, she smoothed it down nervously with her hands; as if by rubbing, she could somehow wipe away those unseemly lines. She was grateful when the next oldest girl took the initiative and introduced herself.
When the second girl uttered her name, "Mellifluous", it came out sounding more like the opening lyric of a song than a word. I recognized her angelic voice from earlier, and, once she defined it - a sweet or smoothly flowing sound - I felt like the name fit her perfectly. She insisted we call her "Mel".
Mel was actually a cousin to the others. And there were notable differences. Her dress was a more contemporary style and would not have been out of place in my school. Her wavy hair was blonde and cropped shorter in a practical, but playful, summer style. She was as tall as her older cousin, Cate, but her athletic body moved with more energy than grace.
She sashayed to the middle of the room and performed her requisite bow. Her curtsy mirrored Cate's but with some unnecessary added flourishes. Judging from the sly smile on her face, you could almost think she was making fun of her cousins and their antiquated customs.
With her honeyed voice filling the room, she imitated Cate's sentiment, but with with none of the sincerity. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Thank you for your hospitality," she sang.
She held her pose longer than necessary and kept her head bowed. Then she looked up at me and winked. When I nodded a bashful acknowledgement, she ended her bow and walked confidently back to her spot. She picked up the large cooking pot and held it against her cocked hip.
When the next in line came and stood directly before me, my heart started fluttering. With an adorable bow, she gave her full name, "Inexorable Honesty, or Honesty for short," and offered the same greeting as the other girls before her.
Inexorable Honesty left no doubt that, unlike her cousin, her greeting and curtsy were genuine. I don't think she was even capable of insincerity. There wasn't a dishonest or deceptive bone in that girl's body.
"You can also call me 'Nessy' if you want. I really don't mind," she was quick to add. There was something about the way she looked unwaveringly at you and spoke with such conviction, that made it impossible to doubt anything she said. Her salutation delivered, she returned to stand by the wash tub and went back to studying my naked body in earnest. She seemed to approve of my handsome cock’s new trick of swaying horizontally in the air.
Next, the twins, who were already used to doing everything together, came forward as one and performed their curtsy. That’s when it struck me that everyone was directing their salutations to me specifically and mostly ignoring Lucy. I figured out that, even though Lucy had made it clear she was the older sibling, according to their cultural tradition, the oldest male member of the household still held the highest position of authority. That’s why they were directing their greetings and introductions to me. Apparently, that custom applied even if the eldest male in the house was nothing more than a naked boy whose big sister still had to give him baths.
"Thank you for your hospitality," they said in perfect stereo. Then they tried to say their names at the same time and ended up stepping on each other's words. The bold one shot an accusatory look at her sister who shrank back apologetically.
"My name is Persistence, but you can call me 'Persi'," she said, pausing impatiently so her sister could then take her turn.
"And I'm Penitence...Penny," the timid one managed to squeak out while shrinking another half-step back.
Persi rolled her eyes in annoyance before dragging her sister back to their position near the giant basket.
Last, but not least, the eleven-year-old stepped forward and thanked me for my hospitality before introducing herself as Anointed Exuberance, or "Annie" for short.
Annie's thin, silky hair was braided down her back and she wore a play dress – even simpler than her sisters. It was high-waisted and had no belt or collar. It looked like it had originally been beige but had gradually faded to almost white. It was extremely threadbare and had clearly been passed down too many times. A couple more wash cycles and it would be practically transparent! The fact that it barely reached her knobby knees indicated that she was on the verge of outgrowing it and would soon pass it down to some poor, unsuspecting littler sister who would be stuck wearing the revealing cloth.
When she bounced to the middle of the room, the transom light from the window above the door shined right through the fabric from behind her and revealed her entire body to me. She grabbed the edges of the dress, which hung from her skinny, eleven-year-old frame, and attempted a clumsy curtsey. She didn't yet have the grace of her big sisters. But that didn't stop her from bowing her head, bending her legs, and making an adorably exuberant effort.
I couldn't stop myself from looking at the childish white panties wrapped around her immature hips and pelvis before moving up to locate her nipples - little more than tiny pink buttons on her bra-less chest. Suddenly, I felt a stirring in my loins and my cock twitched noticeably. I averted my gaze, almost too late and tried to think of something other than the cute tween girl bowing before me in her transparent dress.
When she saw my cock twitch its approval of her offering, a look of healthy apprehension bordering on fear replaced her normally exuberant smile. But then, Honesty came to the rescue and broke the stalemate by clearing her throat. Annie blinked and turned toward her fifteen-year-old sister. Realizing she was still standing in the middle of the room, she quickly returned to her assigned spot near the tin wash tub. But she kept a wary eye trained on my semi-erect appendage for any more unexpected signs of life.
Having completed all their introductions and greetings, it was Cate’s responsibility to formally initiate the presentation. But before she could begin, her cousin, Mel, asked Lucy a question.
"Why does your brother...Mikey...not speak? Is there something wrong with him? Is he simple?" she asked in her sing-songy, mellifluous voice.
Ok, ouch. I wanted to speak up in my defense, tell them I wasn't an idiot. But my dare did not allow me to speak without Lucy's permission. And I doubted she would grant me to. Upon hearing my real fourteen-year-old voice, they would instantly see right through her whole "little brother" charade. She couldn't risk that.
With a reassuring smile, she came over and gave my bottom a pat. Having your naked bottom patted in front of a bunch of cute girls you just met in your own house is just as condescending as it sounds. She might as well have patted me on the top of my head like a little child.
"Simple?" she mused, "oh, he can be a little slow sometimes, if that's what you mean. But mostly he's all right. He's just shy around strangers. Isn't that right, Mikey?"
At that, she gave my bottom a firm squeeze which made my eyes bulge. I nodded my head silently and tried to look as...un-simple as I could manage.
Now that the subject had been raised, Cate added her own question to the conversation. She wanted clarification about something that had been bothering her. Looking warily at my swaying cock, the nineteen-year-old asked, "and did you say he was your...younger brother?"
"Yes," Lucy delivered a confident lie, "he's eleven and I'm almost thirteen."
Upon hearing I was only eleven years old, several girls did a surprised double take. Some shared excited whispers with their closest neighbors. Persistence, when she realized something, couldn't help but blurt out a taunt aimed at her youngest sister, "Annie is eleven, too! Hey Annie, do you want to play with Mikey? He can be your beau."
Oh great, not only did they all think I was eleven, and an imbecile to boot, but they were now trying to set me up with the youngest girl in their group for a play date!
I looked around the room for anyone to come to my defense. But other than little Annie whose face had turned red, all I could see were a bunch of snickering girls. Some were doing a better job than others of hiding their amusement. Some weren't even trying.
I felt like a laughingstock. They no longer feared me. They felt sorry for me - the dumb eleven-year-old simpleton who couldn't even help his big sister in the garden without getting dirt all over his legs. I couldn't even be trusted to clean up afterward but needed my big sister to bathe me.
Emasculated, I felt my erection, still full from Dave's chemicals, droop to hang impressively between my open legs. The girls immediately noticed and twittered excitedly to each other about my penis' new position.
As my own face blushed with humiliation, I redoubled my efforts to mask my emotions. Setting my face stoically, I resolved to stand as still as a statue and in no way react to anything else the girls said or did.
It might have worked, too, if the girls had kept their clothes on.
Before starting, the ringleader, who was also the oldest, explained their reason for coming. She told us the same story I just told you before proceeding to introductions and greetings.
I found a few things came in handy identifying them and keeping everyone straight. First, they all happened to be spaced perfectly two years apart in age from eleven to nineteen. The oldest, who were nineteen and seventeen, were the two girls who had been speaking with Lucy on the porch earlier out of my eyesight. The next oldest, the cute girl who had studied me up and down appreciatively through the front doorway, was fifteen. The twins were thirteen, and the smallest was eleven years old.
Lucy and I were both confounded when the oldest made a curtsy and told us her name was “Fervid Supplication”. At first, I thought I had misheard her or had a brain glitch. They didn't even sound like real words to me - certainly not a person's name!
But apparently, she was accustomed to her name confusing outsiders and was quick to provide further details. We were still quite confused even after she gave us the definitions. Fortunately, she put us at ease by saying we could call her "Cate", which was a lot easier to remember.
Cate had a graceful, pleasant beauty about her. Her well-proportioned nineteen-year-old body had more curves than any of her sisters and her skin was as smooth as porcelain. She looked like someone who had outgrown the follies of youth and was ready for the womanhood chapter of her life.
While her pale skin tone matched her sisters, she had darker hair, almost black, and her eyes were deep pools of brown. Her clothing had a peculiarity that stood out to me. All the homemade dresses were finely crafted. But Cate's brown dress had unexpected lines all over it - extra seams, patches, and stitches where none belonged.
When she caught me looking at her dress, she smoothed it down nervously with her hands; as if by rubbing, she could somehow wipe away those unseemly lines. She was grateful when the next oldest girl took the initiative and introduced herself.
When the second girl uttered her name, "Mellifluous", it came out sounding more like the opening lyric of a song than a word. I recognized her angelic voice from earlier, and, once she defined it - a sweet or smoothly flowing sound - I felt like the name fit her perfectly. She insisted we call her "Mel".
Mel was actually a cousin to the others. And there were notable differences. Her dress was a more contemporary style and would not have been out of place in my school. Her wavy hair was blonde and cropped shorter in a practical, but playful, summer style. She was as tall as her older cousin, Cate, but her athletic body moved with more energy than grace.
She sashayed to the middle of the room and performed her requisite bow. Her curtsy mirrored Cate's but with some unnecessary added flourishes. Judging from the sly smile on her face, you could almost think she was making fun of her cousins and their antiquated customs.
With her honeyed voice filling the room, she imitated Cate's sentiment, but with with none of the sincerity. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Thank you for your hospitality," she sang.
She held her pose longer than necessary and kept her head bowed. Then she looked up at me and winked. When I nodded a bashful acknowledgement, she ended her bow and walked confidently back to her spot. She picked up the large cooking pot and held it against her cocked hip.
When the next in line came and stood directly before me, my heart started fluttering. With an adorable bow, she gave her full name, "Inexorable Honesty, or Honesty for short," and offered the same greeting as the other girls before her.
Inexorable Honesty left no doubt that, unlike her cousin, her greeting and curtsy were genuine. I don't think she was even capable of insincerity. There wasn't a dishonest or deceptive bone in that girl's body.
"You can also call me 'Nessy' if you want. I really don't mind," she was quick to add. There was something about the way she looked unwaveringly at you and spoke with such conviction, that made it impossible to doubt anything she said. Her salutation delivered, she returned to stand by the wash tub and went back to studying my naked body in earnest. She seemed to approve of my handsome cock’s new trick of swaying horizontally in the air.
Next, the twins, who were already used to doing everything together, came forward as one and performed their curtsy. That’s when it struck me that everyone was directing their salutations to me specifically and mostly ignoring Lucy. I figured out that, even though Lucy had made it clear she was the older sibling, according to their cultural tradition, the oldest male member of the household still held the highest position of authority. That’s why they were directing their greetings and introductions to me. Apparently, that custom applied even if the eldest male in the house was nothing more than a naked boy whose big sister still had to give him baths.
"Thank you for your hospitality," they said in perfect stereo. Then they tried to say their names at the same time and ended up stepping on each other's words. The bold one shot an accusatory look at her sister who shrank back apologetically.
"My name is Persistence, but you can call me 'Persi'," she said, pausing impatiently so her sister could then take her turn.
"And I'm Penitence...Penny," the timid one managed to squeak out while shrinking another half-step back.
Persi rolled her eyes in annoyance before dragging her sister back to their position near the giant basket.
Last, but not least, the eleven-year-old stepped forward and thanked me for my hospitality before introducing herself as Anointed Exuberance, or "Annie" for short.
Annie's thin, silky hair was braided down her back and she wore a play dress – even simpler than her sisters. It was high-waisted and had no belt or collar. It looked like it had originally been beige but had gradually faded to almost white. It was extremely threadbare and had clearly been passed down too many times. A couple more wash cycles and it would be practically transparent! The fact that it barely reached her knobby knees indicated that she was on the verge of outgrowing it and would soon pass it down to some poor, unsuspecting littler sister who would be stuck wearing the revealing cloth.
When she bounced to the middle of the room, the transom light from the window above the door shined right through the fabric from behind her and revealed her entire body to me. She grabbed the edges of the dress, which hung from her skinny, eleven-year-old frame, and attempted a clumsy curtsey. She didn't yet have the grace of her big sisters. But that didn't stop her from bowing her head, bending her legs, and making an adorably exuberant effort.
I couldn't stop myself from looking at the childish white panties wrapped around her immature hips and pelvis before moving up to locate her nipples - little more than tiny pink buttons on her bra-less chest. Suddenly, I felt a stirring in my loins and my cock twitched noticeably. I averted my gaze, almost too late and tried to think of something other than the cute tween girl bowing before me in her transparent dress.
When she saw my cock twitch its approval of her offering, a look of healthy apprehension bordering on fear replaced her normally exuberant smile. But then, Honesty came to the rescue and broke the stalemate by clearing her throat. Annie blinked and turned toward her fifteen-year-old sister. Realizing she was still standing in the middle of the room, she quickly returned to her assigned spot near the tin wash tub. But she kept a wary eye trained on my semi-erect appendage for any more unexpected signs of life.
Having completed all their introductions and greetings, it was Cate’s responsibility to formally initiate the presentation. But before she could begin, her cousin, Mel, asked Lucy a question.
"Why does your brother...Mikey...not speak? Is there something wrong with him? Is he simple?" she asked in her sing-songy, mellifluous voice.
Ok, ouch. I wanted to speak up in my defense, tell them I wasn't an idiot. But my dare did not allow me to speak without Lucy's permission. And I doubted she would grant me to. Upon hearing my real fourteen-year-old voice, they would instantly see right through her whole "little brother" charade. She couldn't risk that.
With a reassuring smile, she came over and gave my bottom a pat. Having your naked bottom patted in front of a bunch of cute girls you just met in your own house is just as condescending as it sounds. She might as well have patted me on the top of my head like a little child.
"Simple?" she mused, "oh, he can be a little slow sometimes, if that's what you mean. But mostly he's all right. He's just shy around strangers. Isn't that right, Mikey?"
At that, she gave my bottom a firm squeeze which made my eyes bulge. I nodded my head silently and tried to look as...un-simple as I could manage.
Now that the subject had been raised, Cate added her own question to the conversation. She wanted clarification about something that had been bothering her. Looking warily at my swaying cock, the nineteen-year-old asked, "and did you say he was your...younger brother?"
"Yes," Lucy delivered a confident lie, "he's eleven and I'm almost thirteen."
Upon hearing I was only eleven years old, several girls did a surprised double take. Some shared excited whispers with their closest neighbors. Persistence, when she realized something, couldn't help but blurt out a taunt aimed at her youngest sister, "Annie is eleven, too! Hey Annie, do you want to play with Mikey? He can be your beau."
Oh great, not only did they all think I was eleven, and an imbecile to boot, but they were now trying to set me up with the youngest girl in their group for a play date!
I looked around the room for anyone to come to my defense. But other than little Annie whose face had turned red, all I could see were a bunch of snickering girls. Some were doing a better job than others of hiding their amusement. Some weren't even trying.
I felt like a laughingstock. They no longer feared me. They felt sorry for me - the dumb eleven-year-old simpleton who couldn't even help his big sister in the garden without getting dirt all over his legs. I couldn't even be trusted to clean up afterward but needed my big sister to bathe me.
Emasculated, I felt my erection, still full from Dave's chemicals, droop to hang impressively between my open legs. The girls immediately noticed and twittered excitedly to each other about my penis' new position.
As my own face blushed with humiliation, I redoubled my efforts to mask my emotions. Setting my face stoically, I resolved to stand as still as a statue and in no way react to anything else the girls said or did.
It might have worked, too, if the girls had kept their clothes on.
Last edited by neverdoubted on Tue Jun 06, 2023 4:47 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: Dare Me (new 5/19)
That's an exciting set up. He is to act much younger than he is. But how will that affect how they view his upcoming extreme arousal? The potential leakage and also a potential to be on the edge of an orgasm. Perhaps they will all clean him after? I can't wait to read that. What could happen if mom came home early? How would Mike and Lucy explain? Would they just have to pretend? So exciting.
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Re: Dare Me (new 5/19)
Between those names and that cruel, cruel cliffhanger I think you'd like a friend of mine, Neverdoubted. You sadist!
Seriously though, that's an excellent chapter. So evocative. So good to have met all those girls. Poor Mikey--I forgot for a moment there the dare didn't allow him to talk, leaving all the lying to Lucy, to say whatever she pleases, hehe.
Honestly, man. Those last few words! I might actually have trouble falling asleep tonight with THAT on my mind!!!
Seriously though, that's an excellent chapter. So evocative. So good to have met all those girls. Poor Mikey--I forgot for a moment there the dare didn't allow him to talk, leaving all the lying to Lucy, to say whatever she pleases, hehe.
Honestly, man. Those last few words! I might actually have trouble falling asleep tonight with THAT on my mind!!!
A kinky, pervy dreamer who occasionally feels creative. I love and appreciate comments and encouragement and I'm also open to suggestions!
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