Everard - Part 3

 

It had been a miserable few days for Everard. He was still totally conflicted about his thoughts and fantasies while he was masturbating and how different he felt when these came to fruition in real life.

Take the other day when Lance pantsed him right in front of Damon and Ricky. Thinking about it happening while lying in bed wanking was exciting and resulted in Everard having an amazing cum. But how he felt at the time, when his shorts were yanked down as he was helping the boys tie a rope to a tree branch, was totally different; upsetting didn’t even begin to describe them. Everard had been tricked. He’d walked straight into his little brother’s trap and was furious with Lance. Everard was also furious with his mother for nagging him to go and play with his little brother and his equally little pals.

As for Mrs Healy, she was becoming increasingly concerned about her son Everard. She knew he was masturbating; the signs were obvious enough, but she also knew it would be a fool’s errand to try and stop him. She had read enough on the forums she followed to realise the impossibility of that ever happening. Indeed the general consensus was that any, excuse the phrase, hard and fast rules with regard to masturbation would result in boys becoming more secretive than they already were. Mrs Healy was also worried about the increasing friction between Lance and his older brother. She laid the blame for this state of affairs squarely on Everard. If Everard spent less time masturbating, she thought, he would have more time to spend with Lance.

She had posted a few questions about her problem with Everard on a couple of the forums she followed which led to some interesting discussions. Sibling rivalry among boys was an age old headache for mums, but the general consensus was to give the boys more responsibility for each other. Naturally Mrs Healy imagined the older boy, particularly a boy like Everard who was three years senior to Lance, should look out for his younger brother. This was the reason she had urged Everard to go and see if he could help Lance playing with his friends the other day. This was the advice that had led directly to Everard’s pantsing and his subsequent resentment.

Lance, on the other hand, had had a great time. His stock among his friends had skyrocketed since he pantsed his brother Everard in front of them. It was a source of considerable delight for Lance as he watched Everard struggle to pull his shorts back up, but the unforeseen bonus was the absence  of underpants… and hey presto! all was revealed and there was Everard’s boner bobbing about for everyone to see. Lance loved it when Everard’s face glowed red with embarrassment. And it was so funny when Everard got upset, because Lance could hear his older brother’s voice cracking, squeaking all of a sudden when he lost control. The pantsing was worth it just so Lance and his friends could have a laugh at Everard’s expense and the more they laughed, the more they teased, the more upset Everard became. Priceless!

Meanwhile each day for the next few days Everard took great delight in wrapping Lance’s t-shirt round his stiff cock as he masturbated. It had become an act of revenge for his humiliation. Two or three times Lance had asked their mum whether she’d found the shirt. Initially Everard had thought he might be able to wash it and somehow sneak it back into Lance’s bedroom undetected. But it was so much fun for Everard to play with his brother’s t-shirt as he rubbed his hard-on and spunked up into it yet another load of boy-cum that he quickly gave up on the idea of returning it. Besides by the fourth day the t-shirt was so stained and stiff with cum that even he realised it would be impossible to get it clean again.

Everard’s midnight rambles in the nude became more frequent. He would dare himself to leave his room and walk naked around the house with his hands on his head. Everard had often thought what it would feel like if he was made to walk like that, with his arms raised, to the showers after PE. He imagined Sir would order him to do it in front of the whole class as a punishment for scoring the lowest marks during the gym lesson. Everard knew the humiliation would be intense, but he would have no choice but to do as he was told - the very real threat of feeling the sting of Sir’s well-placed slipper would ensure Everard obeyed. He’d have to endure the gauntlet of jibes and laughter from boys, all of them still wearing PE kit. Everard, the bare naked boy… but then another horrifying thought struck him, what he had had a stiffy in front of them? While not unknown in the school showers, somehow Everard knew it would be a whole lot different to have an erection while he paraded naked and on full display in front of Sir and his classmates. He’d be a laughing-stock and would never live it down.

Everard got so wound up in his fantasy that he only just made it back to his bedroom in time to reach under his bed, grab Lance’s t-shirt and unload his spunk into its welcoming folds.

It was inevitable this state of affairs couldn’t last. 

So involved in his regular after school wank in his bedroom, Everard had failed to go downstairs after mum called up to say that tea was ready.

He’d called back: “I’m just finishing my homework!” as he continued to masturbate. It gave him an extra thrill to think that he was doing it while talking to to his mum. “Down in a minute!” he yelled as he carried on bashing the bishop.

“Don’t be all day,” his mother had replied.

When Everard didn’t appear after nearly five minutes had passed, mum sent Lance upstairs to fetch his brother. “Tell him to stop whatever it is he’s doing and come downstairs for his tea this minute.”

Lance did as he was told and when he reached Everard’s bedroom door he had an idea. He would barge in, surprise his older brother and make him jump. As carefully as he could Lance turned the door-handle, smiled mischievously when he discovered it wasn’t locked, then suddenly flung the door wide open.

It’s certainly did give Everard a surprise… well, more of a shock when he looked up and saw his little brother standing, staring at him, open-mouthed in the doorway. Lance didn’t remain open-mouthed for very long. While he failed to recognise his t-shirt wrapped around Everard’s stiff penis, Lance could see what it was that his brother’s fist was holding. Even though Lance didn’t know what Everard was doing, he knew it was wrong. He was shocked: “That’s naughty!” he announced, with all the force of an outraged eleven year old.

Everard stopped wanking and squeezed his penis hard through the t-shirt, more than ever aware that he had about half a second to hide what he was doing and about another half-second to ensure Lance didn’t see what had happened to his favourite t-shirt.

Lance evoked the authority of their mother: “Mum says you’re to stop what you’re doing and come downstairs for tea.”

“Go away! Leave me alone can’t you?!”

“Mum says…”

Between his legs Everard’s penis engaged auto-pilot and Lance’s t-shirt took another load of Everard’s cum. A dark, moist patch appeared and Lance could see the stain getting larger and larger. 

Everard knew he was in serious trouble. He daren’t move. His hand was sticky with spunk that had leaked through the cotton t-shirt. “Please…” he begged Lance, “just go away.”

Lance saw the cum dripping from Everard’s fingers. He screwed up his face: “Eww yuck… that’s gross!”

Everard looked up, his face contorted. He could sense what Lance was about to do. Silently he pleaded with his little brother not to say anything, not to…

“MUM!!!” 

Mrs Healy, hearing Lance’s cry and fearing the worse; that Everard had had an accident - though not the type of ‘accident’ that had indeed occurred in her son’s bedroom, rushed upstairs to find Lance standing in the doorway of Everard’s room.

Lance turned to his mother then pointed at his older brother, “Everard’s got his hand on his willy, mum… I saw him … he was rubbing it! Look! He’s made a mess! It’s gross!”

Mrs Healy instantly appraised the situation: “Leave this to me, Lance… go back downstairs, I’ll be with you shortly,” she said before turning to face Everard. “What's all this? What have you been up to?” Her questions came thick and fast. “Have you been masturbating again? Don’t try to deny it. You’ve already used my hand towels clean up your mess and now…”

“Please mum... I didn't mean to…”

“What! Is that the best you can come with, ‘Mum, I didn’t mean to’? Take a look at yourself, you didn’t mean to what exactly? To wrap that t-shirt…” Mrs Healy stopped abruptly. She looked a little closer at what Everard was still holding between his legs. “I don't believe it!! That's Lance's t-shirt, isn’t it? The t-shirt he’s been pestering me about since it went missing… and do you mean to tell me that all this time you’ve been using it to clean up your mess after masturbating?”

Everard looked at his mother as a deer is reputed to look when it sees the headlights of an oncoming car.

Mum shook her head as if trying to make sense of what she saw: “I’m disappointed in you, Everard.”

Everard hung his head: “Sorry, mum…” was the most he could manage.

“Well, I suppose ‘sorry’ is a start, but there’s going to have to be some changes around here… and you realise I’m going to have to explain to your brother what you’ve been doing? For heaven’s sake, Everard, Lance is only eleven, but sometimes I think you act as if you’re half his age.”

Mrs Healy looked down at the soggy rag that Everard was clutching to himself. “Honestly, can’t you see that you’ve ruined Lance’s t-shirt? You can pay for a new one out of your pocket money, Everard… and then there’s the little matter of how we deal with your behaviour, or rather your persistent bad behaviour.”

Everard didn’t like the sound of this one bit. What was mum going to do?

It seemed to Mrs Healy the posts she’d read on the discussion forums didn’t completely answer her questions with regard to siblings being given responsibility for each other. She’d assumed it would be the older looking after the younger sibling, however it was obvious to her that it would be pointless to give Everard any responsibility for anything at all, rather she should make Lance responsible for Everard.

“Now give me that disgusting t-shirt of Lance’s you’ve ruined… get yourself cleaned up and put some clothes on. I’m going to speak to your brother.” With that Mrs Healy left Everard to ponder on his fate.

Back downstairs she had a talk with Lance. She explained, with as little detail as possible, that what Lance saw his older brother doing was something which had got out of control. Everard, she told Lance, was wasting his time playing with himself. She was going to make sure Everard behaved responsibly even if she couldn’t watch him all the time. 

Then she added what almost sounded like an afterthought: “Oh, and I found your Spidey t-shirt… the one that went missing.”

This immediately got Lance’s interest and he gave up trying to figure out why his older brother wanted to play with his willy so much. His eyes lit up, that is until his mum told him: “Everard was using it to wipe up his mess after playing with himself… playing with his willy like I just explained to you.”

For the second time within the space of an hour, Lance’s jaw dropped and his mouth hung open when it dawned on him what it was that mum was holding. He was furious with Everard even though mum went on to tell him his brother would buy him a new Spidey t-shirt. But then Lance’s eyes lit up again when mum asked if he would like to help her help Everard?

Immediately sensing there was more fun to be had, Lance wanted to know what he’d have to do and then asked: “But what if he won’t do what I tell him?”

Mrs Healy smiled: “Don’t worry, Lance. When I tell him what I’ve got in mind, he won’t dare disobey you.”

An expression close to awe broke out on Lance’s face, but try as he might, his mother wouldn’t tell him what it was that would give him a superpower over his brother.

What Mrs Healy wouldn’t tell Lance was what she’d been reading on one of the forums she followed. The subject causing a great deal of concern among mums was the chronic masturbation habits of their teen sons. How to control horny young boys who were constantly jerking off was the reason for the lively debate. Some mums were prepared to accept there was little that could be done, others relied on the honesty of their boys to only masturbate when they were given permission to do so, while others simply refused to believe their sons could behave in such a manner. 

However there were also mums who favoured forced chastity and believed the only way to stop what they described as a pernicious, debasing habit was to employ the use of chastity cages and so-called ‘safety mittens’. It seemed these devices and other restraints designed to prevent masturbation, were readily available and the debate about the merits of different types of preventative items ran to a considerable number of posts. Mums openly discussed the beneficial rewards to be obtained by the use of cages designed specifically to prevent masturbation by teenage boys.

Mrs Healy, like some of the other mums, was concerned about the physical and psychological consequences of putting a boy into full-time chastity. She came to the view that it might well do Everard more harm than good. However, she also realised that using the threat of forced chastity might well be a considerable aid in controlling her son’s behaviour. She developed her own approach to this age old problem by adapting the discussion about sibling responsibilities to her own needs.

That evening there was a family meeting.

Everard straightaway noticed something different in Lance’s manner. This puzzled Everard and he wondered what mum had said to his brother. Mum must have told him about the Spidey t-shirt, he thought. But Lance didn’t look at all bothered and Everard wondered why.

“We won’t go into it now, just as to how you came by Lance’s t-shirt, Everard, but I want you to apologise to your brother for doing to it what you did. Lance was very upset when his t-shirt went missing. It was his favourite. I’ve told him you will buy him a new one. You can go to the shop with him and maybe help him to choose another… Now, tell Lance you’re sorry.”

Everard became even more puzzled and anxious when Lance shrugged his shoulders in response to his apology. It was obvious to Everard that Lance knew something. This became clear when his mother spoke again.

“I’ve had to explain to Lance what you were doing. He was very grown up about it, which is more than can be said for you, Everard.” Mum looked at him steely-eyed, “Your compulsion to masturbate is completely out of control. You can’t seem to stop and you are making a mess. Everywhere I look I see the evidence. The hand towel I found in your bedroom only last week, for instance, and now Lance caught you using his favourite t-shirt, or at least it was his favourite t-shirt, for masturbating.”

Everett was blushing. Of course he was, as any boy his age would be. He also couldn’t remember a time when he was more nervous and embarrassed. Was mum about to tell him that she knew all about his nighttime escapades? How could she have found out? Everard asked himself as his anxiety levels went through the roof. “Muuuum,” he whined, “can’t we talk about this without Lance here?” 

“I don’t see why not. You were perfectly happy to make use of Lance’s t-shirt. I think that entitles him to listen… and besides, what I’ve got to say concerns him as much as it does you. When I told him what needed to be done, Lance agreed to help me keep an eye on you… on my behalf,” she emphasised, “...and together we are going to help you to control your masturbation problem.”

Everett was stunned. “Wh-whaaat?”

“I’ve been reading about how to deal with boys who persistently masturbate…”

Seriously? Everard’s world was collapsing. He gaped, unable to think straight. He managed to ask: “Where?”

“Thankfully there are forums…. forums where mothers can openly discuss their son’s masturbation habits among themselves…”

Everard was gobsmacked. His eyes wide. This was awful: “You… you’ve talked about… about me?” he asked, dreading mum’s answer would be in the affirmative.

“Of course I have… and the replies to my posts…”

Evarard’s jaw couldn’t drop any lower, but he managed to blurt out: “posts…” stressing the letter ‘s’. “The… there’s more than one?” he asked incredulously.

“That’s right… some of the replies from mums who’ve had experience with their boy’s uncontrolled masturbating were very helpful and very supportive. You can’t expect me not to reply and thank them. It would be rude if I didn’t.

Lance piped up: “That’s why mum called you ‘Tugger’... isn’t it, mum?”

Mrs Healy nodded: “Yes… and there’s going to be a lot less tugging from now on.” 

Everard couldn’t believe what was happening. It was mum and Lance against him. Lance!

“Lance can keep an eye on you. He’s to tell me if he sees you doing anything you shouldn’t. Is that understood?”

It was one of mum’s questions that didn’t need an answer, Everard had been so shocked by events that he’d lost the use of his voice and so was unable to respond in any case.

Mum took it that Everard understood.

“There’s one other thing that Lance has agreed to help with…”

What now? Everard thought, How could this possibly get any worse?

“You’ve to thank one of the mums on the forum who told me that she allows her son to masturbate once a week…”

Everard’s eyes nearly popped out their sockets. Once a week! Please say that’s not going to happen to me!

“We’ve exchanged comments about her experience and she’d convinced me to use this approach with you, Everard…”

Everard would have pleaded, begged even, but what was the point? He knew that mum, once she’d got an idea in her head, wasn’t going to change her mind. Besides, he was too shocked anyway.

“You’ll have to sort it out between the two of you when and where this happens, because I want Lance to be there to make sure you only do what you’re allowed to do…”

Be there! Everard was stunned. You mean in the same room? Watching me?!

Mum turned to face Lance: “Now I need to have a little word with Everard in private, so you can leave the room for five minutes, Lance, while I speak to your brother.”

Lance couldn’t stop himself and as he walked towards the door, he called back: “Tugger’s been naughty!”

As soon as he was out of the room the verbal floodgates opened and Everard pleaded: “Mum… you can’t do this… please… not just once a week, mum…” The desperation in his voice was palpable, “...honest, I’ll only do it when you tell me I can… but, please, mum, don’t let Lance watch…”

Mrs Healy was unperturbed: “You should think yourself lucky I’m allowing you to masturbate once a week. The mother I’ve been in touch with told me that she’d seriously thought about locking her son’s penis into a chastity cage… Do you know what a chastity cage is?”

Everard nodded. He’d heard talk about them from boys at school.

“She bought one for him… a bit like this one.” 

As if she were a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat, Mrs Healy suddenly produced a boy’s chastity cage and held it up in the palm of her hand for Everard to see.

“I won’t hesitate to put this to good use if Lance tells me that you are being uncooperative, or that he’s seen you playing with yourself when you shouldn’t … understand?”

Everard was horrified. The sight of the chastity cage, much smaller than he’d imagined they’d be, sent shivers up and down his spine. Once more he found himself caught between a rock and a hard place. Awful enough to be only able to masturbate once a week. Awful enough for Lance to be in control, but if he didn’t comply with mum’s wishes his penis would be locked in the chastity cage and he wouldn’t be able to masturbate at all! Given that threat, Everard was forced to accept that once a week was better than complete denial.

These thoughts and the sight of the cage had their not altogether unexpected effect on Everard’s penis as it began to awaken from its slumber.

“Do you understand?” mum asked again when Everard failed to respond. He looked up, as if caught in the piercing beam of mum’s eyes.

In defeat Everard uttered: “Yes, mum…” He felt as if he’d just been punched in the solar plexus.

The consequences of this new regime didn’t take long to become apparent. Later that very evening when Everard would have usually been found lying on his bed casually stroking his penis while he fantasised about being caught naked or somehow humiliated, he was in fact perched on his bed terrified that Lance would burst into his room, accuse him of masturbating and then have his mother carry out her threat to use the chastity cage.

Everard’s penis appeared to be relishing every aspect of his situation, maintaining its soldierly salute throughout. Everard wondered about what exactly had been discussed on the mums’ forum. He was both ashamed and excited to think that he’d been talked about. He was fourteen, an age when it’s not unusual for a boy to blush merely as a result of hearing his name mentioned when his mum was gossiping to a neighbour. What Everard felt like now that he knew embarrassing details about the masturbation activities of boys were being openly exchanged among mums, defies description. He wanted to know what his mum had said about him and yet at the same time he was horrified at the thought of what he might find out. Everard was suddenly struck with the idea that mum might even let Lance read the posts!

As if on cue, Lance did charge into Everard’s bedroom.

“Mum says I’m to move into your room!” he announced excitedly, clearly thrilled at the prospect.

Everard was thunderstruck. He knew this meant he would have no privacy, none at all. Not even the slightest hope of a furtive wank with his little brother running in and out of their newly to be shared bedroom.

Everard - Part 2

 

Blushing, with his head bowed trying to avoid eye contact with his mother, Everard turned back up the driveway with his hands clasping his PJ shorts again.

As he approached the door his mother stopped him.

“Just a minute… I want a word with you young man…”

Everard’s heart was thumping as he looked up and met his mother’s eyes. There was guilt written all over his face as Everard wondered what was coming. He clutched the front of his pyjama shorts tighter.

Everard’s mother was in the doorway leaving her son to stand on the driveway outside the house. Everard could hear the voices of their neighbours on the other side of the low fence that separated the properties. Naturally he was anxious to get back inside the house, but his mother for whatever reason had other ideas.

“What is all this nonsense?” she asked.

Everard didn’t understand. At least he hoped he didn’t understand, otherwise it meant his mother knew more than she was letting on.

“I don’t know what you mean… I’ve taken the bins out like you asked…” he pleaded, turned slightly and by nodding his head indicated the bins at the end of the driveway as if to prove what he was saying was true. Everard was at that stage in which his voice was liable to fluctuate and crack unpredictably, particularly under stress. When Everard’s voice suddenly leap an octave higher, his mother knew she had every reason too be suspicious. It was a sign of a boy’s guilty conscience, something known by mums the world over. 

“I’m not taking about the bins, Everard… You know perfectly well what I mean. You’ve been acting very strangely recently and I’ve a very good idea what it’s about, but I want to hear it from you.”

Everard’s voice wobbled unchecked: “I don’t know what you mean, mum… honest.”

Everard could feel his penis was harder than ever. It was awful to be left outside facing his mother who was stood looking down at him from the step outside the kitchen. Everard was actually squeezing the stiff rod wrapped in the soft cotton of his pyjama shorts.

“And why are you holding on to your pyjamas like that? Are they in danger of falling down?”

Everard was beginning to panic; “No, mum… no they’re not… it’s… it’s… the button…”

Mum stepped down and leant forward. She took hold of Everard’s left wrist and pulled.

“Here… let me see… Everard!!”

“Oh please, mum… no… don’t… please.”

Everard desperately tried to hold the front of his pyjama shorts together with his remaining hand, but mum pushed it to one side. 

“Get your hands out of the way.”

Everard’s penis, fully erect and released from his grasp, popped out of the open fly.

“Oh, for pity’s sake, Everard,” his mum sighed, clearly exasperated by her son’s seemingly priapismatic penis. However she had no intention of letting this interfere with her finding out why Everard’s pyjama shorts were gaping wide open.

“I can’t see anything wrong with the button, Everard. Did it come undone or did you just forgot to do it up?”

A voice was heard to call out: “Good morning Mrs Healy”

Mum looked up to see the head of her neighbour looking over the fence. She held onto Everard’s wrist as she turned to face Mrs Watts, the neighbour. Everard’s penis was on show.

Everard panicked: “Mum! Please…” Again he tried to hide his rampant rod, but it was impossible to cover and with all the pulling and tugging of his shorts, he was scared they wouldn’t stay up much longer.

“Anything the matter?” the neighbour asked.

“Mum… please…”

Mrs Watts caught sight of what was poking out of Everard’s pyjama shorts: “Good heavens! Everard, is that your…?”

“MUM…”

“Everard! Will you keep still! How do you expect me to help when you keep wriggling about?”

Everard was frantic. He could feel his shorts slipping as the cord holding them up became lose. But his mother kept him standing outside, seemingly unconcerned by what their neighbour could see sticking out from the front of Everard’s pyjamas.

“I’m sorry, Peggy… Everard’s having trouble with his pyjamas… Oh stop all this nonsense, Everard, Mrs Watts has seen you with no clothes on plenty of times.”

This had certainly been the case when Everard was a lot younger, but he was fourteen now and hadn’t been seen naked by his neighbour for a long time.

Everard was mortified to be caught like this in full view of Mrs Watts. It was all very well fantasising about being caught naked with a hard-on, but the reality was purgatory.

His mother, in spite of his protests, insisted on doing up the fly button. He pleaded with her: “Please, mum, I can do it.”

“You should have thought of that earlier… now hands out of the way, Everard!”

Without another word spoken, mum took hold of her son’s penis just as she would have done if he was still a toddler and pushed it back into the pyjama shorts.

“Now keep it there while I do up this button…”

Everard pressed a hand against the front of his shorts to keep his penis in place. He looked up, only to make eye-contact with Mrs Watts who had been paying close attention to what was going on the other side of her fence. The sight of his neighbour watching him took Everard’s level of embarrassment to new heights. In his brain the neurons worked silently and unnoticed, exchanging, recording and storing Everard’s emotions across the synaptic cleft as his humiliation continued.

Mum pulled the sides of the fly together. She did up the button: “Now get along inside while I go and say ‘hello’ to Mrs Watts.” 

Everard didn’t need to be told twice. He dashed into the kitchen and even before he was halfway across the room the events of a few moments ago were being relayed by his busy neurotransmitters. Already the intense humiliation he’d just suffered in front of his neighbour was becoming the subject of another masturbatory fantasy.

He was about to race upstairs to his room, already cursing himself for throwing away the key to his bedroom door. Everard wanted some time alone; time when he wouldn’t be disturbed; time for a good long wank as he thought about what had happened outside. Quite why the feelings of shame he’d just experienced gave him such an intense kick was a mystery to him. All he knew was that his cock was still nail-hard. That needed to be dealt with pronto.

He almost ran into Lance in his eagerness to get to his room.

“I saw it! I saw it! Boing! Boing! Boing!” Lance cried gleefully, “I saw you! Boner boy! Boner boy!”

Everard’s voice cracked again at this blow to his ego. He had no control. The stress was too much for him: “Stop it! Shut up! Just shut up!”

Lance laughed as his brother’s voice leapt up and down in pitch. He reckoned Everard was funnier, much funnier than the cartoons he’d been watching on TV. He continued to taunt him, chanting, “Boing! Boing! Boing! Tugger! Tugger! Tugger!”

Everard was furious. The morning was turning into a nightmare. He should have had a wank as usual before he got up. What was he thinking? Was he mad? Lance succeeded in winding him up so much that he almost struck out at his little brother, but Everard managed to contain his rage, which was just as well as he heard his mother’s voice behind him.

“I don’t know why you’re taking it out on your brother, Everard, after all, you’re the one who chose to walk around with that thing poking out in front of you, like it was begging for attention.”

She continued: “I don’t want any fighting between you two… I want you to both to calm down and be nice to each other.” Their mother paused, but by the tone of her voice the boys knew she hadn’t finished.  “Everard, give your brother a hug and apologise for telling him to shut up…”

Everard was incensed:“But, mum…”

“But mum nothing… Lance’s only little and you’re supposed to be a big boy…” she turned to her younger son, “There’s no need to snigger, Lance… you know what I mean.”

Everard stepped forward. He knew that mum wouldn’t be satisfied until he’d done what she asked. The fly button held as he reached out and put his arms around his little brother.

Lance wrapped his arms around Everard, but suddenly jerked back as he felt his brother’s boner pressing against him: “YUCK!! I felt it, mum! His thing!”

“Oh, for goodness sake, Everard…”

“That’s not fair! Lance squeezed me on purpose, mum.” Everard was indignant. “It’s his fault… I can’t help it…”

“That’s enough… you should have been more careful.”

“But, mum, why do I always get the blame… it’s not fair.”

In Everard’s eyes the morning had been a complete disaster. For Lance the exact opposite was true. The eleven year old thought it was tremendous fun teasing his older brother and couldn’t wait to tell his friends what had happened that morning. While not appreciating its significance, Lance now knew the magical effect the use of the word ‘Tugger’ had on Everard.

There was no two ways about it, Everard needed a wank. He slunk on up to his bedroom in high dudgeon, hoping he’d be able to sate his desire undisturbed. Once more he cursed himself for throwing away the key. Everard was in no mood to put himself in any danger. He just wanted to masturbate and enjoy the relief of a climax as soon as possible.

But when he reached his sanctuary Everard couldn’t help but think about what had happened. As he rubbed his stiff penis, Everard became aware of another sensation… that of fear… fear that Lance might easily walk in on him now… Lance would see him and he could do nothing… he wouldn’t be able to stop himself… he’d shoot spunk right in front of Lance… Lance would laugh at him… there’s no key… he could come in… Lance might come in… any second!!!

Everard ejaculated and splattered himself with cum as he lay on his bed. Quickly he cleaned himself up, scared Lance would burst through his bedroom door. More than ever Everard was aware of how easily Lance could have seen everything. Even Everard thought it was crazy to make himself so vulnerable, but the kick he got out of it was the means to bliss out out the most amazing cums. What Everard’s penis wanted, Everard’s penis got.

Only a few hours elapsed before Everard thought up another dare to perform. He’d been daydreaming again thinking about how it felt when he stood naked in his bedroom doorway looking out onto the landing. Just standing there naked, well out of reach of any clothes, had given him a special thrill. What if he was to venture out a bit further? Say, what if he was to wait until Lance and his mum were both in bed? What if he left his bedroom and walked around in the nude? It made Everard horny just thinking about it, so that evening he knew he’d have to put his plan into action.

In bed that evening Everard lay awake with a hard-on. He held held his penis with one hand while he played with his balls with the other. It was a good feeling. Everard wasn’t sleepy at all, kept awake by his excitement at the prospect of doing his dare. 

It was after midnight that Everard got up out of bed and slipped off his pyjama shorts and the old t-shirt he’d been wearing. He crossed the room and carefully opened his bedroom door. He looked out onto the landing lit from the glow of the nightlights. Naked Everard walked on tiptoes to the top of the stairs. With his heart thumping and with his penis rock-hard, he dared himself to go downstairs. Everard was terrified he’d be caught, but the excitement he felt overruled any other emotion and he soon found himself in the hall stood facing the front door. Dare he? Everard reached up and turned the lock as quietly as he could. He pulled the door towards himself and leaned forward to twist his head round the door and look down the driveway. There was no one about. Everard pulled the door open, turned to face the hall, bent forward, stuck his bottom out of the door and waggled it from side-to-side.

It was childish, nay infantile behaviour. A way for Everard to tell the world, or at least anyone unlikely enough to be in the vicinity of the driveway, that he was brave enough to do dares. But in reality it was just a boy showing off by being silly and rude, nothing more. In any case there was little chance of anyone witnessing this gesture, but for Everard it added a certain piquancy to his nude escapade. He closed the door and thought about what else he could do. As Everard wandered around downstairs feeling thoroughly naughty, he suddenly hit on an idea that would really test his resolve. 

He scooted off back upstairs and walked stealthily up to Lance’s bedroom door. It hadn’t been closed properly since his mother had come up to bed and popped into her younger son’s room to make sure he was properly tucked up in bed. Everard pushed the door open a little and was rewarded by the sound of his little brother’s steady breathing that indicated Lance was fast asleep.

Everard crept slowly into the room holding his fully erect penis. He kelt down next to Lance’s bed and started to masturbate while looking at Lance’s closed eyes. “If he wakes up, I’m toast,” Everard said reminding himself of the dangerous position into which he had put himself, but this only made him more excited. “All he’s got to do is open his eyes and he’ll see me… see me naked… see my cock… see me wanking…” Everard could barely suppress a groan of pleasure as he squeezed his penis, masturbating as he watched his sleeping brother. Just then Lance shifted and turned in his sleep and scared the bejeezus out of Everard. The sudden shock was all that was needed to take Everard to the edge. He was going to cum. He couldn’t stop himself. Sanity prevailed for a nanosecond telling him to stop before it was too late, but his cock was in control of his emotions and ready to explode. Everard panicked. He was going to cum. It would go everywhere, all over the place. He made a grab for one of Lance’s t-shirts he saw lying on the floor with his free hand and wrapped it over his cock just as he spunked-up. Everard closed his eyes in ecstasy as he leant back shooting his load of boy-cum straight into Lance’s t-shirt.

Lance moved again and mumbled something in his sleep. Everard knew he had to get out of the room pronto. He got up and made for the door clutching Lance’s t-shirt to his crotch.

Back in his own bedroom Everard couldn’t believe what he’d just done. “Sh-iiit, that was so close!” he said to himself, “If Lance…” and Everard went into a sort of post traumatic shock as it sunk in how stupid he’d been; how he could so easily have been caught. Had it been worth it? Shit… YES! Such were the thoughts of the horny young teen.

After he finished cleaning himself up with Lance’s t-shirt, Everard pulled on his pyjama shorts and climbed into bed. He stuffed the t-shirt, like it was his new spunk-rag, down the crack between his bed and the wall to join on the floor beneath his bed, the crusty flannel Everard had been using to wipe up his cum for the past few months. The flannel was so stiff and crusty with dried spunk that it very nearly scratched Everard when he cleaned himself up after a wank.

Everard lay on his back and smiled, satisfied with his evening’s work. As he drifted off to sleep the words his mother has spoken came back to him, ‘I hope you know what you’re doing…’ Everard grinned, so full of himself… he reckoned he did.

Before he got up the next morning Everard reached under his bed for Lance’s t-shirt and pulled it up from its hiding place. Curious he gingerly lifted up the shirt and held it close to his face. “This is so cool,” he said to himself, impressed by his bravery in creeping into Lance’s bedroom and using his little brother’s t-shirt for an emergency cum dump. He could smell the patches of his still damp spunk, but the overall scent was that of his kid brother. Unconsciously Everard’s hand reached down and took hold of his penis. It excited him to think he was in possession of, and could do anything with, the shirt. He could wank up into again… do it as many times as he wanted. All the time Everard’s hand was at work stroking his now rigid boy-cock.

What Everard didn’t know was that it was Lance’s favourite t-shirt, one that his little brother had been wearing for a few days despite their mum telling him to put on a fresh one, so of course Lance was upset when he couldn’t find it.

At breakfast that morning when Lance made the loss of his t-shirt known, mum looked at Everard.

“Do you know anything about this?”

Everard blushed: “Why should I? Lance wears those smelly old t-shirts for days… it probably fell apart…”

“Well it must be somewhere.” Mum turned to speak to Lance: “I’ll have a good look around… I’m sure it will turn up, Lance.”

She glanced in Everard’s direction. He was sure his mum suspected him and this just made him blush and feel guilty. She’d had a go at him only the other week when she found in his bedroom one of the hand towels he’d used after masturbating in bathroom. The lecture she’d given him about leaving towels lying about instead of putting them back in the bathroom where they belonged had ended with her calling him ‘Tugger’ for the first time; his mother’s way of making it perfectly clear she knew what he’d been doing with the hand towel. 

Everard didn’t need to be told he’d better make sure she didn’t find Lance’s t-shirt or he’d be in serious trouble.

The loss of his t-shirt was soon forgotten by Lance when his friends called round. They were going to carry on with building their hideout in a patch of scrub at the bottom of the garden. Everard hadn’t got much on and was moping about and generally getting in his mother’s way.

“Why don’t you go and see if you can help Lance and his friends?”

“Aw, do I have to?”

“Yes, you do… I wish you boys would get along better. All you ever seem to do is shout at Lance like you did the other day…”

“When did I…”, Everard started to reply before he stopped short when he realised what mum was talking about.

Everard’s mother looked at him and raised an eyebrow.

“Lance was teasing me…” Everard said by way of explanation, “He shouldn’t’ve…”

“That was your own fault,” mum interjected, “You should have had more sense than to wander around with your… thing poking out in front of you like it’s begging for attention.”

Everard was caught between a rock and a hard place; stay and listen to his mum as she reminded him of recent events or go and make a half-hearted attempt to play with his brother and his brother’s two friends. He made a bee-line for the back door.

Mum started to offer Everard a little more of her sage advice: “If I were you I’d… oh, never mind,” she added when she remembered how unlikely it was that a teenage boy like Everard would ever listen to, let alone act on, anyone’s advice. It reminded her to have a look at some recent posts on one of the mums’ discussion forums she kept an eye on to see if there had been any updates. There had been some interesting exchanges about boy siblings, in particular problems between older boys as they enter puberty and their younger brothers. 

She sighed and hoped Everard wouldn’t do anything he’d regret. She too had been thinking about Everard’s recent alternative use to which he had put one of her hand towels. She’d had a good mind to put up a notice in the bathroom in the forlorn hope that it would embarrass Everard sufficiently enough to ease up on his habitual masturbation. The notice was to have read ‘These TOWELS are NOT to be USED for MASTURBATING!’, but the thought of having to sit down and explain to Lance what his older brother had been up to, was enough for her to put this idea on hold… at least for the time being, she told herself.

It was only when he he’d walked out of the house that Everard realised that all he was wearing was a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. He hadn’t even got anything on his feet. Everard had set himself another dare that morning; not to wear any underpants and the shorts he had chosen were one of his shorter pairs. He suddenly felt very nervous about meeting Lance and his pals, but that was the feeling that got him excited. So rather than do the sensible thing and go back into the house to change, Everard carried on walking in the direction of the boys’ voices coming from the bottom of the garden hoping his developing boner wasn’t too noticeable.

Lance looked up when he saw his older brother approaching. Oddly enough, or so it seemed to Everard, Lance appeared to be eager for him to join them. The other two boys, Ricky and Damon, looked pretty keen as well. Lance looked back and must have said said something to the other two boys, but Everard couldn’t hear what it was.

“We’re trying to get this rope over the branch,” Lance explained, holding a length of rope in front of himself and pointing above his head to a level branch way out reach of the younger boys, “Only it’s a bit too high. Can you try?”

Now Everard was on surer ground. He was the older boy. He was taller than any of these little squirts. Of course he’d show them how much better big boys were at building hideouts.

“Easy-peasy… here give me the rope…”

“Can you tie it to the branch?”

“Sure, no problemo.” Everard loved showing off. He took the proffered rope and moved under the branch of the tree.

Everard saw that tying a knot wasn’t going that easy. He’d have to reach up with both arms once he’d managed to loop the rope over the branch. Still, as he’d said, no problem. 

“A couple of loops should do it… then I’ll tie it off.” 

Everard was forced to stand on tiptoe and reach up with both arms in order to tie the rope. Concentrating on what he was doing, Everard hadn’t noticed Lance had moved to stand behind him. It was at that moment it occurred to Everard to ask why they wanted to tie a rope around the branch. 

As Lance uttered the words, “No reason…” Everard felt his shorts being tugged sharply down which resulted in squeals of laughter from the boys facing him.

Needless to say Everard’s shorts caught his boner and his dick sprang up as they were pulled down. Everard’s arms came down like greased lightening. He bent forward in such a hurry that he nearly toppled over in the effort to retrieve his shorts, but in that brief moment Lance peered round to the front of Everard laughing: “Boing! Boing! Boing!”

The laughter from Ricky and Damon stopped immediately and they stood with their mouths agape. They had expected to see Everard wearing underpants and were stunned when they saw a big stiffy bouncing about freely. But within seconds they both joined in the chant: “Boing! Boing! Boing!” “Boing! Boing! Boing!”

It was Everard’s ‘fight or flight’ moment. Instinct told him to pull his shorts up and make a run for it, but what boy would be mad enough to display such a weakness in front of his younger brother? A part of him felt cheated by the pantsing at the hands of Lance. He wanted to be in control. Once more Everard’s internal self-conflict came to the fore. He was embarrassed and humiliated by what had happened, but isn’t this just what Everard secretly wanted? Wasn’t that why his penis was rock-hard to begin with and still was while he finished pulling his shorts back up, which wasn’t easy with three eleven year olds teasing, laughing and pointing at his bobbing cock.

Lance was thrilled with the effect his pantsing was having and started to tell Damon and Ricky about what happened the other day: “It was sticking out of his PJ shorts…” breathlessly he continued, “... and it was bouncing about in front of Mrs Watts next door…”

This was too much for Everard. He stood up with his shorts only just covering his front. His bottom was still bare as he started to shout at Lance to ‘shut up!’ But this only made matters worse when Lance added another line to the boys’ chant: “Boner boy!!! Boner boy!!! Boing! Boing! Boing!”

Everard was livid. He couldn’t believe Lance could be that mean. Annoying, yes; irritating, yes, but not unkind. It was as if Lance had seen how easily he could tease and taunt Everard… and he was going to make sure he took full advantage of the fact.