Never Play Poker with Girls Chapter 05

Never Play Poker with Girls Chapter 05
By Jaech Reiter

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This story is intended for ADULTS ONLY. It contains explicit depictions of sexual activity involving minors. If you are not of a legal age in your locality to view such material or if such material does not appeal to you, do not read further, and do not save this story.
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Chapter 05
Doctors, Doctors, Give us some News, We got a Bad case of Will's Blues

Monday morning dawned with the same bad routine as most of last week. Will awoke with a hard-on that he had no interest in jacking. He was angry and pissed at the regularity of this, and pissed that he couldn't piss until he got in the shower. And he was tired of falling asleep so early and waking up so early. His body felt that it wanted to be refreshed after so much sleep, except that he still felt bottled up and bloated.

He was angry that he was angry and pissed that he was tired of being pissed.

He pulled his shirt down over his hard on, which would stay mostly hard through the day; and he knew full well that it was actually getting noticed and pointed at in school. After his run in with Harley, however, nobody would say anything to him directly.

He came downstairs in a foul mood, fouler than usual, even, and showed up at the breakfast table, a bit more disheveled than he had been all last week. (Wasn't decreased personal grooming a sign of going crazy? His mother briefly thought. But she had to clear that from her mind before she broke down in tears.) They also noticed that for the first time in a week, he wasn't wearing a long sleeved shirt.

"Will, honey, sit down and eat. You can take your time, though. You won't be going to school this morning. Maybe not at all, for today."

"What?? Why not?"

"You're going to see a doctor this morning."

"My doctor's appointment is tomorrow."

"Well, you're going to see a 'special' doctor today."

"I don't want to see another doctor. I want to see Dr. Kincaid!"

"You are going to see Dr. Kincaid, dear - tomorrow. But today you'll be seeing Dr. Porter."

"She's a loony doctor," Ricky said with a bit of a laugh.

"Ricky!" His dad warned "You aren't big enough or strong enough, yet, to stop me from bending you over that table and warming up your backside."

Ricky's smile dropped. He probably was strong enough to resist quite easily; but dads had an authority advantage. And he was pretty sure his dad would make use of it. He had gone an entire year without being belted; he rather not get it again. The last time was fairly traumatic. Two girls at church still kid him about how white his BVD's were when he got it. {'I bet your butt wasn't white afterward, though' one of them would always say)

"The proper term is psychiatrist, Ricky, and it's a lot more complicated than that. They specialize in numerous issues, not all of which-"

"I'm NOT fucking CRAZY!!!!!!!" Will interrupted her and yelled at the top of his voice. His face was red, veins were bulging, fists clenched so tight that no blood was going to his hands. Everyone at the table was quiet, their faces showing the shock that even Will felt; he just couldn't connect to it.

Will ran upstairs and slammed his bedroom door, or at least tried to. They didn't slam very well, but he gave it three good tries before just kicking it after he closed it. They left him alone up there; no one certainly wanted to bother him. His mother just yelled up the stairs that she would keep breakfast for him until he felt better about coming down, but that they would be leaving at 10:30 for the doctor's appointment.

Will stewed in his room until everybody left. He eventually left out, headed for Marissa's room, his anger driving him to find that stupid cream so he could take it with him to the doctor's office. He couldn't find it and went through every one of her dresser drawers looking for it. What he found, instead, shocked him.

They were penises.

Well, two of them were, the largest one looking fairly anatomically correct, and HUGE. Like it belonged to a man. A BIG man. The smaller one just had the barest resemblance to a penis and seemed softer, more malleable. It was a little bit larger than the towel peg that he had used - and here he flushed with embarrassment at the memory - last Friday in the showers at school. Plus, instead of a blunted head, it had a flared spongy-like end, like a larger dickhead, almost like on Curtis. Again he blushed, just thinking about that comparison.

The third one was in between the other two, though not much thicker than the 'boy-cock' one; and it had a dial at the base. Will turned the dial and the dildo seemed to come to life buzzing and vibrating. He was startled and dropped the thing, then scrambled to get it back and shut it off. The buzzing seemed abnormally loud while he was stealing around where he shouldn't be. He shut it off and put it back, guiltily thinking that he might try that one, some day.

In the meantime he took the smaller sized dildo back with him to his room. He already knew what he was going to do with it. The peg was just a prelude. Will turned up his stereo loud to cover any sounds that he might make (he hadn't realized he had been making any until Coach Brown made a joking comment while he was filling out their tardy excuses - a remark that Curtis had to later explain.) He grabbed some more lotion and set to work.

He was moaning almost immediately, ashamed and embarrassed even though no one but himself was around to witness it, and humiliated that as a guy he would actually want or even like the feel of something going up his butt like this. On top of that, it was obviously made for girls (it was his sister's after all, although even knowing that was a separate embarrassment).

But he tolerated the almost-painful, fuller opening this dickhead made in his hole, just to be able to get it to slide across that unknown region that felt so good being massaged. He grabbed his dick, just like in the shower, and worked his dick with his left while his right worked his hole and that special place deep inside with the stolen, dick-like dildo.

The day before in the shower, he had had no specific imagery accompanying his euphoric delivery from frustration; it had just been a non-specific wild ride to orgasm - twice. To be sure, there were flashes of girls he liked, including Kirsten Grieves, who he was always too embarrassed to think about when he masturbated because he liked her so much more than all the other girls. But those flashes were really just that - momentary unconscious thoughts on the periphery.

This time, however, only the first jerk-off was a frantic need to get to a finish line. The second one was much more leisurely, and even more intense. He had metaphysically left his room on that ride and was really in another full sensory dimension, overloaded in one long slowly building orgasm. And in this second one, he spent his time mentally undressing several girls, though he could never fully see them in detail. He tried not doing that with Kirsten, but he just couldn't help it. Toward the end he even started seeing Marissa. This was the most disturbing, but he felt compelled and continued higher and higher and ever upward, mercifully switching at the end to another girl in a class above with boobs every boy wanted to see and ended up blowing the whole of a weeks worth of cum all over her pert naked tits.

And he came down. A joyous crash. An orgasm the way it should be, collapsing back and even driving that dildo hard another inch inward, giving a mini-peak in the orgasmic fall into the afterlife. And he lay there panting, barley conscious, and feeling good. Feeling pretty damn good.

Downstairs Judie Gant heard the loud music come on - much, much too loud to be tolerated in this house - but at the same time was in no hurry to get into any more fights or arguments this morning, at least not until they could get in to see Dr. Porter. She thought she heard some other sounds underneath all that noise. Was he grunting? Maybe moving his furniture around? Oh well, let him. Then as she listened further, she thought she knew what that sound was.

"Well, maybe it will help calm him down," she thought, although she never remembered Ricky being that loud when he started masturbating at that age. The biggest thing with him was using up all the hot water in the shower, until his dad had that most embarrassing conversation with his developing son. Maybe they needed one with Will. Could something like this be the source of all his problems?

She doubted it. His outbursts were way too intense.

Eventually Will came back downstairs, He sat at the table and mumbled an apology to his mom for how he acted earlier. It wasn't that he didn't want to apologize, but that he was so embarrassed about what he had done that was requiring the apology. Luckily his mom understood that part, although she was just hoping this roller coaster wasn't insanity of some sort, and she kissed him on the head and said she forgave him.

"We're going to get you some help."

"But do I have to see a crazy doctor?"

"She's a psychiatrist,
" she sighed and tried to explain it in his terms. "They help more people than just 'crazy' people. They help people who are simply depressed, or maybe have sleeping problems. Maybe it's a learning disability that's affecting you."

"I'm not a SPED, mom."

"Don't use disparaging words. All manner of people have specific learning disabilities that they can learn to overcome, and you wouldn't even know it. My point is, it would be good to see what's going on from more than just one medical perspective."

"You think I'm crazy, don't you?"

Judie paused, she so desperately wanted to reassure her son, but she couldn't get it out. He was looking at her so trusting and innocent , she forced herself to say 'No' but immediately got up and left the kitchen. He thought he heard a sob escape from her before she closed the door to her bedroom.

He didn't know what was wrong with him, but he hated what it was doing to his family. He resolved to play his part in whatever was required to set things straight again. He didn't want to make his mom cry like that anymore.

"Well, Mr. and Mrs. Gant, I'm glad you could both be here. I spent a little over an hour with your son, Will, and he was very pleasant and polite throughout our discussion."

"Honestly, doctor," Mike started up, "he was not like that this morning. He's frightening the other kids, even my oldest said that he had to restrain him the other day, and that he could barely do it!"

Dr, Porter held up her hand to stop him. "I'm not disputing that. Will himself told me about his outbursts. They're frightening him as well."

"Doctor, is he . . . . I mean, is he going . . . . "

"Crazy? I think that's the word you were looking for but didn't want to use, and no, I do not believe there is any psychosis or insanity involved. I don't think, at least at this juncture, any long term personality disorder or criminality to be of concern."

Both Judie and Mike sighed in relief, though Judie couldn't help but break down in tears briefly. Dr. Porter understood and gave her a few moments.

"As I was saying, Will was very open and forthcoming, even about a lot of details that boys his age do not want to discuss or reveal. Throughout the interview, his embarrassment, vocalizations, voice patterns, and facial expressions were appropriate for his age. And he seemed genuinely concerned about his own behaviors."

"So he was very cooperative."

"Yes. And my discussions with him revealed no hallucinations, no feelings of persecution, no paranoia, no harboring of grudges or ill will to anyone or to his own self or body, no unusual interest in fires, no serious access to pornography or any obsession therein."

"He does have one Playboy under his mattress," his mom offered.

"Just one?"

"Yes."

"Well, then, further proof he's a normal, healthy 12 year old boy at heart. Obviously, however, we have some problems, and these need to be tackled soon and with discipline in order to prevent social, psychiatric, and/or criminal behaviors down the road."

"We're willing to do anything."

"Good, because at face value some of is required may be too much for you."

"We'll have the discipline. We want our son back."

"Then I will help you. First of all, let me stress that I believe there is something more concerning than strictly behavioral issues. Perhaps hormonal? I'm not sure. I saw in the records you already screened him for drugs, which I think is a great idea. I'm going to send, with your permission, my observations to his principal doctor . . ."

"Yes, please."

"And also recommend a further drug workup, including hair samples, just to be sure. However, once we locate an organic or other cause, I think this should be coupled with a behavioral management program, about which I would be more than happy discuss once we get results back from Dr. Kincaid."

"Thank you so much, Dr. Porter."

"One thing I have noticed, though, and this is unfortunately all too common with boys his age, is that he appears overly modest. I wanted to examine him further, but he was reluctant to even lift up his shirt."

"Well, we were hoping that once the new school policy went into effect regarding PE full dress and undress with showers, that that might help some. But we have noticed it with both boys."

"Hmm, the PE regulations might help some, once he is in the general population of boys. I'm guessing, though, you didn't know that he got in trouble at school for fighting?"

"We knew. He received a detention."

"Well he was also separated from the other boys, he and the boy that he fought. The coach may have his reasons, but I would encourage the coach to push Will more toward exposure than seclusion. Perhaps a public spanking on his bare bottom in front of his friends would be more effective than separation."

"Well," his parents looked unsure at each other, "If you think that best . . . ."

"Mr. and Mrs. Gant, we're talking about saving your son, from this complex issue that ails him. Publicly carried-out Humiliation, Embarrassment, and Pain can be very effective tools, when handled properly, in training young boys with problems, or in correcting delinquents who do no feel they have a problem."

Judie and Mike looked even more unsure about this.

"Mr. and Mrs. Gant, we aren't talking about torture or physical or emotional scarring here, certainly not, that's abuse. We put people in jail for that. I'm talking about using well-studied principles in a tailored framework to allow your son to develop and control himself in a disciplined manner."

"Well, that doesn't sound so bad."

"And it isn't. Some of the components may sound distasteful, but you must always keep the end goal in mind, watch to see things don't get carried too far, make sure YOU have control, and realize that these things really aren't going to hurt him in the long run, but may significantly help mold him into a responsible and productive citizen. Now, are you on board?"

Mike and Judie looked at each other. They knew that they couldn't be wishy-washy about this. There was too much at stake.

"We're on board."

"Good. Now, ordinarily, I would make your son strip down so I could examine him properly in your presence. It's very important to establish your right to observe. However, since he will be having an even more thorough exam tomorrow, we will defer that, this time. I know Dr. Kincaid can be a bit old-fashioned, and he usually doesn't like the parents there for the exam once the child turns 12, So, I think it's a good idea for you to request that Henry's and Will's exams be done completely in each other's presence."

"Will had wanted a few minutes alone with Dr. Kincaid . . . "

"And I think that's perfectly OK, especially if the opportunity presents itself where this flows naturally from, say, the registration. Just register Will first. But any opportunity where there is exposure to his brother or even another child, I think would be good."

"Thank you, doctor."

They said their goodbyes and collected Will from the waiting room and left with their troubled buy quietly in tow. He was a good son, once again, for most of the day, only becoming irritable as the night wore on.

They had a lot to think about and a lot to discuss. They had heard about H-E-P, humiliation, embarrassment and pain, as protocols to some programs in the Northern counties of their state.

"What were those programs called?"

"Naked . . . no, um Nude, yes that's it, Nude, uh . . ."

"Enhancement?"

"Yes, that's it Nude Enhancment Protocol," Mike said.

"Hmmm, I don't think so. I know, Nudity Enhanced Punishment - maybe? But, Mike, do we really want to stress the punishment part? Aren't we looking for more of a structure for him than a retribution."

"I don't think it's ever meant to be retribution for SOME kids. So maybe what Will needs is a sort of a Nude Enhanced Pathway, or just an Enhanced Pathway?"

"Hmmm, I like the Pathway part, but I kind of like the Nude part also."

They both laughed and agreed they would look into things with an open mind and trust Dr. Porter's advice.

Before Will fell asleep that night, having for once made it into his pajamas, his oldest sister Marissa came in to see him. He remembered briefly, with a shamed face, that he had pictured her in part of his masturbation fantasy that morning. It was hard to look her in the eye after remembering that.

But the 16 year old shapely and beautiful girl had even more embarrassment in store for him when she sat down. She held out the bottle of Harlos Kropp's Hair Removal Cream.

"Were you searching my room for this, Will?"

Will blushed but nodded.

"I don't like anyone going through my personal things."

"I had a right to it."

"You had a right to ask for it, but not go through my room. However, I think you should take it to the doctor tomorrow, and I also think you should tell him what happened, provided Henry doesn't hear it and the doctor doesn't tell mom."

"Fine," he said, and then mumbled a thanks for the cream which he put in the pocket of the pants he was going to wear the next day.

"But we are going to talk later about your going through my room. I won't tolerate that; you will answer for it. If you don't, well . . . . you wont like it sweet brother of mine. Nobody just rifles through my things."

"I'll tell mom and dad everything."

"Really, that you were making wild bets? And I'll tell them you stole it out of my room and used it on yourself. The girls will support me on that. They'll deny playing strip poker. Mom would never believe that they would do something like that."

"What about the guys?"

"They made the same promise you did. Not only would they NOT want to look like welshers on a bet made to girls, which they lost, at poker no less; but they also know that the penalty for the one who does talk is the same as you got."

"Mom and dad wont believe that I would ever put that on myself!"

"At this point, Will, they'll believe that you'll do anything."

There was a lot of truth in this. "But not this, not put this stuff on me to . . . to . . . take off all my hair."

"Even after I show them the dildo you used?"

Will's face drained of all its color. He was speechless. He cleaned that thing. He put it back. She couldn't know. He was still ashamed of himself for using it. Please, please, oh please, SHE cant know!!

As if she read his mind, Marissa leaned forward and said in a low voice, "Oh yes, I know you took the small one with the flared head, and I know where you put it, too. And you know what, I know when. I overheard mom talking to dad; it seems you weren't quiet enough. Even with the loud music, she heard you going at it this morning, Will."

"Your lying." His small quiet voice told her that he knew she wasn't. Busted.

"Oh, and just in case your thinking I wouldn't tell mom about the dildos . . . . . . well, she already knows I have them. She doesn't like it too much, but she figures that there better than a boy. Oh, and if she only knew how right she is on that."

"What are you going to do?" He asked in a terrified and defeated voice.

"I'm going to teach you how to use them properly, Will; and then you're going to give a demonstration to some other interested individuals."

He frowned. No way. "I'm not going to do that."

"Suit yourself. I'll go and show mom. She knows that I know better than to use lotion, it can ruin the dildo, especially the one you used. And she knows I would never put it back in my drawer without thoroughly cleaning them - properly! Goodnight, Will. Wait until your psychiatrist hears about this."

"No! Wait, please, Marissa!! I'm your Little Brother!"

"Who goes through my things? Who threatens to get me into trouble? Who physically threatens me to the point his older brother had to hold him down on the floor?"

"No . . . oh . . . .that wasn't me . . . "

"Sure looked like you." And she left.

"No, please . . . .I'll do it!" He yelled.

He was almost shivering in fear if this should come to light. It was so shameful.

"You'll do what?" She asked calmly as she came back in his room and shut the door.

"What you said. What you wanted me to do. I'll do it." He was so ashamed; he couldn't look at anything but his feet. And they were ashamed of him too. He could just feel it.

"That's not good enough, Will. I want to her you say it exactly."

"I'll . . . .I'll let you t-teach me about the . . . how to use the . . . .d-d- . . . . how to use the d-d-dildos."

"And?"

"And I'll . . . .put on a . . . . .demonstration."

"For?"

"Whoever you want." He spat out the last part almost angrily, which she felt was her cue to end this session and get out of his room. He was nothing but predictably unpredictable with his anger lately.

She went over and kissed him on the top of his head, but he pulled away. She did it again anyway and pulled him into a hug. He reacted stiffly, but he didn't pull away. "Will, sweetie, it's going to be OK. Don't worry about it. You aren't the first boy to try one of those up your butt and like it. They're made for both boys and girls, you know. Well, actually for men and women, but you get the point, right?"

"Sure," he said hoarsely. He was mortified, and he wanted her to go away. Then he would like to curl up and die.

He got two out of three. She left, and he curled up on his bed, but he didn't die. Instead he just woke up the next morning.

10 minutes before his alarm.

And hard as a rock.