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I knew about the traditions at school. When you turn 18, something big happens. It’s always different. It’s always embarrassing. It’s always humiliating.Even though I had become accustomed to the humiliation, it never got better. Because of my awkwardness and shyness, the pranks always ended up being about my body. I am tall and skinny, 6’0”, and basically too uncoordinated to be in any sports. I played violin and was on the speech team, but nothing more physical than that.These birthday pranks started when I was 17 and a junior in high school. Our schools were divided between the freshman/sophomore campus, and I was at the junior/senior campus for upperclassmen. Someone had caught me in the school shower with a little semi going and snuck a picture of me in this state. The picture was clear, full frontal with just enough side angle to capture my excited state, and in full color. I am bigger than most boys in a relaxed state, but this captured my 7.5 inches for all to see. “Oh my god,” she breathed. I stopped before she was actually lifted off the ground, tightening the ropes just enough to put some pressure on her. She teetered on her knees, held in place, but swinging back and forth slightly, putting pressure on her ass. I poked her lightly, causing her to swing backwards and eliciting a gasp. I poked her again and left the room.I returned to find her struggling against her bonds as best she could. “Good, start early, it might take you the whole week to get out, bitch.”“Are you gonna call me that the entire time?” she asked half haughty, half actually wondering. She yelped as I started whipping her.“Well,” I said, “you’re so helpless in front of me, what are you then?”“Your slave,” she said submissively.“Mmm, I like that better.”“Yes Master. May I suck your cock?”“You are eager. I think I’d rather call up one of your friends and have them blow me in front of you.” I stopped whipping her and looked at the delightful red stripes across her.
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She took the last wedge from her half of the pizza andgazed at Matthew. They should shower first shethought. Her skin was moist and sticky, the evening was nearly as hot as the day had been. She could smellthe musky, woman-scent of herself drifting up. Herarmpits were wet and, as if to underline the facts, adrop of sweat trickled down into her bra. There werestill tiny pieces of grass on her forearms from themowing. Damn it, she was a mess - but oh god, sohorny. She squirmed on the chair and clamped herthighs together as if to keep her heat from pouringout.She was too hungry for that cock, to go throughshowering. Poor fidgeting Matthew was probably wishinghe could go jerk off in his basement. Perhaps not, hiseyes were fixed on her breasts and one hand was underthe table. She could see his arm moving slightly,steadily. He was trying to comfort that lovely penisof his. She got up from the table and closed the blinds and leaned over the sink. It had to be now, she had tohave him. She'd.

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