Date: Tue, 15 Jul 2008 17:28:11 -0400
From: Michael DaVinci <mdavinci@socialfarts.com>
Subject: Unexpected Nightmare part 2

Being seen naked was bad, being seen aroused was far worse, but coming in
front of everyone would be totally unthinkable. So I shut down.

That worked for almost five minutes, with my eyes closed, my mind blocked,
and my breathing deliberately slow and steady. After a while my shoulders
relaxed a bit, and I could feel my dick softening -- still pointing but
slowly losing its angle. I took a deep breath and checked the clock again.
Ten minutes to next bell. A bit of panic welled up, and a few more tears
drained down my face. Then my heart started racing again and my dick sprang
back up to its higher angle.

Shit! Why was this happening? I admitted to myself that I would have given
anything to see this happen to someone else. My balls tightened again at
that thought. It meant that everyone would be desperate for a long close
look.

It really came down to two options: either my life as I knew it would end,
or I would live to see another school day. The first must be like being in a
car accident -- you go through it and you don't know what hit you until you
are either dead or in traction in the hospital. Perhaps I could get through
that, or die peacefully.

But if I lived through it, how could I come back here and face anyone? How
could anyone speak to me without imagining me strung up in the hall with a
raging boner? On the other hand, since everyone would have seen all of me
and I still lived, I wouldn't have to worry ever again about hiding what I
really looked like. Somehow that gave me little comfort.

Five more minutes to bell. Was this the longest hard-on I had ever had?
Usually I didn't let it go that long without jerking off, sometimes more
than once until it was really dead. I supposed I could do that now, but hey,
my hands were tied. Thinking about the impending student crowds brought me
real close to coming, so maybe I could just come without touching myself and
that would cause my dick to fall. But with my luck it would still be leaking
semen and the trail would just lead to the truth, all sticky on the floor.
No, that wouldn't work either.

I shifted from one foot to the other. The floor felt cold. My wrists hurt. I
tried to relax my arms, letting the ropes take their weight. That didn't
help much. I twisted and turned, trying to find an angle that would be
tenable for the coming ordeal. I felt the need to pee. Maybe that was
keeping my dick hard, like a morning wood. They better release me before my
bladder gets too full -- I usually didn't last the whole morning without
hitting the washroom.

My mind flooded with questions: Should I talk to people or act sullen? If I
try to talk will I cry? Is my face already stained and will they think I am
a wimp? Does my dick look OK or too weird? Are my balls still there or have
they been sucked up into my body?How about my butt -- will it look too big or
too small? Did I clean it well this morning? Do my armpits stink?

So went the remaining minutes. At least the worry kept me occupied, and I
neither melted down nor came all over the floor. I suppose if I had been the
really terrified type I could have thrown up by now -- that would have really
grossed everyone out. At least I could avoid that option -- I hadn't thrown
up in years. As the last seconds ticked by, I closed my eyes and hung my
head. Maybe I could just ignore everyone and it would all blow over. Nope, I
could feel my dick bouncing. That would hardly look like I was already dead.

Brrr-inggg!! Never had the bell sounded so loud before. Then again, I was
not usually standing right underneath it without my underwear when it went
off. Within seconds I heard doors click open and the sound of footsteps from
all directions.

I changed strategies and opened my eyes to see what was coming. The first to
reach the intersection were the apes who had tied me up. They backed up
against the opposite wall, grinning, to watch the show. Then a wall of
students approached from two directions, everyone chattering to each other,
then gradually all of them slowing to grasp what was happening in front of
them. I felt the terror grip me full force, and my dick rose to the max.

The noise level increased sharply as my fellow students pointed me out to
each other and started laughing and shouting. The crowd moved in on me, and
I instinctively stepped back as much as my ropes would allow.

I spotted a friend from my own class about halfway through the crowd, so I
took a chance and yelled "Help, untie me, Michael, get me out of here!" A
second later one of the goons reached forward and dragged Michael to the
back wall. By the terrified look on his face I could tell he wouldn't dare
rescue me now.

There were lots of catcalls and pointing fingers. I must have turned three
shades of crimson. Someone said "Nice butt!" and I felt at least somewhat
reassured that I would become known for providing a good show.

Then one of the younger students brushed his hand against the tip of my dick
and proclaimed, "Look, he's got precum! This must be his deepest fantasy!"

Another laughed and dismissed me in a phrase: "Naw, he's just a faggot.
Seeing his own penis turns him on."

One of the older students grabbed his girlfriend's hand and placed it around
my dick. My balls tightened and I prayed that I wouldn't come all over her.
She screamed and pulled away. I took a deep breath and the feeling went
away. Then I felt a finger in my bum crack, and turned around to find three
lower grade boys giggling at my backside and trying to tickle me from
behind. Someone in front tweaked my nipples. Another swatted my erection so
that he could watch it bounce. No one offered to untie me.

One of the more arrogant senior football players came up on my left and
grabbed my dick tightly. Then he began slipping my foreskin back and forth.
He addressed the crowd, "Seems like this faggot is ready to cum. Ten pulls
each and a dollar to the winner!"

I knew at this point I was screwed. By about his third pull I was beginning
to tremble, and I could feel my knees weakening. I made it to ten without
exploding, but my dick looked red and angry and was bobbing all on its own.

Two more guys lined up for this game, and one girl behind them as well. Each
took a turn, standing to one side to avoid getting messed up. The first guy
held me pretty tightly, and pumped too quickly, so it felt kind of
irritating. I think that saved me on that round.

The next guy was much gentler. He pumped very slowly and looked straight
into my eyes while he did it. I stared right back. A dozen others cheered
him on. My hips curled towards him as the tension built. But I could see the
disappointment in his eyes when he reached the count of ten and I still hadn
't come.

Then the girl stepped up. She was smarter -- she faced me directly but held
my dick up and aimed it back on me as she stroked it. She must have done
this before, because she knew how to pull my foreskin really tight on the
down pull. I started panting. At four I could feel my balls clinging to my
body. At six I felt that intense heat that starts in my thighs and sneaks up
through my groin. At eight I knew I was going to come for sure.

On the ninth I closed my eyes and groaned, as I shot great volleys of cum
over my chest. She continued to pump. One of the last spurts reached my
collarbone. Everyone cheered. I flushed and started to cry, then I began to
shiver and my knees grew very weak. Streaks of cum dribbled down my chest.
You could smell it, too.

***

So what happens next? Stay tuned for part 3. Write me at
mdavinci@socialfarts.com

if you feel like commenting. If you want a side trip to my other
publications (through an alter ego) make a visit to www.socialfarts.com and
spend a few moments. If you have a gay or bi theme or a favorite fantasy
that you would like me to build a story around, let me know.