Wednesday, September 5, 2007

Even Another Man Boobs Story

By bustedbyruddysat15

Fictional story (written as a blog entry) continuing the misadventures of a loser grad student with an Asian fetish.


So, after having avoided having my nuts pounded (for the most part) for the past few months, I've now had it happen twice in one week!

The first time was a little over a week ago, when my department had an event where next year's prospective students came to visit. Well, let me give you some background first. My first week here, I found my attention focused on one of my fellow grad student, a cute Asian girl. (Yes, "yellow fever" is a terrible disease.) Well, a couple days into the school year and I was having lunch with her when I started talking about what horrible exploitative frauds "psychics" were. I was enjoying my rant when I paused to take a breath and she said in a soft voice, "Well, I believe in psychics."

Needless to say, our conversations pretty much dropped off after that point. This was especially galling because she was one of those super-flirty, social butterfly types, so the fact that she was deliberately ignoring me was super-obvious.

Anyway, we ended up not having any classes together this semester, so I hardly ever saw her. Occasionally, I would pass her on the street and call out a greeting, which she would awkwardly return before scurrying away as fast as her cute little legs could take her.

So yeah, come last Friday and we were there to welcome the new students. I saw "Barbara" (not her real name) for the first time in months. Well, I tried to be friendly. "Hey, Barbara, haven't seen you in a while! What's up?" She was "friendly" right back, but it was all on the surface. I could tell that she was still being cold. For some reason, her hypocritical smarminess made me especially mad.

I bided my time, and finally I got a chance to confront her. As everyone was clearing out of the room after lunch, I realized that I had forgotten some of my books and went back to get them. I realized that Barbara, who had also stayed back to take care of something, was the only other person in the room. Everyone else was in the process of clearing out of the building. I knew it was now or never.

I quickly crept over to the door and shut it. I tried to be as quiet as possible, but Barbara must have sensed something because she looked up. She looked confused.

I decided I had no choice but to step up and sound as confident and authoritative as possible. "Hey, Barbara. Mind if we talk for a second?"

"Um ... sure, Man Boobs." She stepped forward.


She certainly looked uncomfortable, but I wasn't being nearly as intimidating as I'd hoped. I straightened up and stiffened my shoulders. She cast a glance as the (securely shut) door as she said, "Okay. What's up?"

"Barbara, I heard you had an Oscar party last month."

"Yeah, I did. What about it?"

"You invited a lot of people, huh?"

She looked puzzled. "Yeah, I did."

"Why didn't you invite me?"

She gave me a look, as if to say, "Is that what all this is about?" Now that I had gotten what I wanted to say off of my chest, I must have relaxed a bit. She strode forward confidently. "Oh, that! Well, you see ..."

All of a sudden she looked over my shoulder and smiled. "Hey!" she said to whomever she saw there. I had been planning on us being alone and uninterrupted, so I looked over my shoulder with some chagrin. To my surprise, the door was still shut and there was no one there.

A split second later, her foot thudded into my groin. As I slid to the floor, my brain finally put the clues together. But by that time, Barbara was already out the door.

We haven't spoken since.

(Later that day, incidentally, I met one of the prospectives who was a cute young Asian woman in her mid-20s. I promptly honed in on her and we ended up talking for over an hour. She must have gotten mighty sick of me, but I was too smitten to notice and like most Asian girls she was too polite to show her displeasure. She didn't kick or knee me, but she ended up spilling her drink down the front of my pants, "on accident." She "apologized" profusely, but as I headed inside I heard her say to the waitress, also a cute young Asian woman, "God, I wanted to kick that guy in the balls so bad!!" The waitress sympathetically replied, "Yeah, he really seemed like a loser.")

Encounter with Asian girl's foot #2 happened just a few days ago, on Thursday. I was working in the psych lab. For the past few weeks, I've been crushing on a cute half-Asian girl named Tracy, but this week she was joined by a hot, hot Vietnamese girl named Violet and some blonde chick name Julie. Anyway, in between running my subject, I kept trying to infiltrate the conversational circle of these girls. But they just wouldn't let me in!

Anyway, there was a part of my experiment where I was supposed to have the subject dip their hand in a bucket of ice water for five seconds (really!). Well, I didn't know where the ice was. I popped in to ask my boss, who was having lunch in another room, and he told me to have Violet show me. "Yes!" I thought to myself, "At last some quality time alone with the hot Asian chick."

Alas, it was not to be. Instead of coming with me, Violet told me where the ice storage chest was - eight floors down, on the ground floor. When I told her I wasn't sure where it was (still hoping to lure her to come with me), she gave comically (to her friends) exaggerated details about how to find it. Finally, I stormed out the door. As I was leaving, Violet suggested that I take my cell phone with me so I could call her "in case you get lost." It's not that big a building, so I could tell she was subtly mocking me. Still, I held in my temper and calmly informed her that a) I always carry my cell phone with me and b) I didn't have her number. I walked out before she could reply. As I went, I could hear the girls giggling, and I knew it was at my expense.

I got the ice and completed running the subject. As I came back into the lab room, the three girls were still sitting in a circle and talking. I emptied out the bucket and went over to join them.

"Hey Man Boobs," Violet said, "You find the ice chest all right?"

"Yeah, thanks," I said gruffly.

"Well, you might want to go back down and get another bucketful of ice."

"Oh? Why?"

She didn't even bother getting up. From where she was sitting, she just extended her leg, and the tip of her pointy-toed shoe got me. I crumpled to the ground in horrible agony.

As my vision started to blur, I saw Tracy high-five Violet. "I've been wanting to do that for SO LONG," she said, laughing. Julie was also giggling hysterically.

I slooowly rose to my feet and limped over to the sink. I picked up a bucket and limped out the door, the girls laughing at me all the while. I got into the elevator and rode down to the first floor. But when I saw the chest, I didn't bother with the bucket; since no one was around; I just grabbed the scoop and shoveled the ice down the front of my pants. Oh man, it felt SO GOOD. Of course, once the ice melted I didn't feel so great - after all, this was the second time in one week that I had an embarrassing dark stain on my pants in public...

Yet Another Man Boobs Story

By bustedbyruddysat15

Here's another post, which I wrote around the time of Halloween. The first few paragraphs are about the trend of Halloween costumes getting sexier and more revealing. This segues into a recollection of a high school experience...

(Disclaimer: Fiction yada yada yada)


... Katie Sung and Gillian Brady had decided to dress up as witches - sexy witches, naturally. They wore those wide-brimmed hats, along with dark brown clothes including short miniskirts. I should explain a bit more about these girls. Gill was your typical pretty, well-endowed blonde with pale skin who wore too much make-up. A lot of my friends said she looked like a porn star. I know her face looked slightly busted, but I still thought she was super-hot.

Katie Sung was a girl I would have worshipped if I had had my Asian fetish back then. She was tall and had long legs, truly an amazingly quality for a Chinese-American girl. She was your typical bitchy cheerleader who loved to party, but she was also a Future Leader of America who was accepted to both Stanford and Harvard with no difficulty. I have to admit, I always wondered how she managed to balance those two sides of her life ... but I'm getting ahead of myself.

Katie and Gill had come to school in cheerleader outfits many times before, so I was used to ogling their legs, but for some reason the whole "witch" thing had an effect on me. It was as if I was hypnotized ... I couldn't take my eyes off the two beauties. I found myself following them like a moth drawn to flame. Realizing that I couldn't be too obvious about it, I slowed my pace so I was walking about six feet behind them. They were talking to each other and laughing about something I couldn't make out.

Right as they approached the cafeteria doors, Gill suddenly turned around, then whispered something in Katie's ear. They quickly veered away. "Oh shit," I thought, "Did they notice me?" As it turned out, they hadn't, but in my paranoia I had no choice but to continue straight forward into the cafeteria. Even though I had already eaten, I went through the motions of getting silverware and then used the reflection in my spoon to locate the girls. Katie was nowhere to be seen, while Gill, to my surprise, was talking to one of my best friends!

Ben Freeland was your typical gawky, reed-thin math geek. He wasn't unpopular, but I had no idea how he could be friends with a hot cheerleader like Gill. Yet there she was, smiling at him, talking to him, putting her arm around him.

I quickly slammed my tray down and went to see if I could get close to them without being noticed. Gill was now leading Ben away from the public annex and into a maze of classrooms which, since it was lunchtime, were now deserted. I quickly picked up my pace and followed them, staying a safe distance behind. She now led him into one of the classrooms. We went to a special school where all the classrooms were "open" - i.e., they did not have doors (a situation which changed after Columbine) - so I was able to sneak up and get a partial view without going in. I could see Gill and Ben talking. As I got closer, I heard him saying something about some Japanese anime series or something. (While he was certainly a genius at math, anime was his main passion in life.) All of a sudden, he stopped. He was looking at something in the part of the room I couldn't see. Then I heard him say loudly, "I'm getting the FUCK out of here."

What Gill did next was so swift that I didn't perceive it until after it was over. She already had her arm draped across Ben's back; when he started to move, she swiftly pivoted, grabbed him by the shoulders, and kneed him in the crotch. Then she backed away to observe his reaction.

I could see the pain and shock register across my friend's face. He didn't double over; instead, he just stood there paralyzed, his back straight, his hands cupping his rapidly swelling genitals. I felt the sharp sting of sympathy pains down low, and even from my voyeuristic point of view I felt shame and humiliation. After all, I had been spying on Gill while thinking lustful thoughts about her and when she kneed Ben I felt like my perversion was vicariously exposed.

Meanwhile, the mysterious presence which had ticked off Ben now stepped forward. It was Katie. I couldn't help but notice how good her legs looked in her dark brown skirt and black leather boots. But what was she doing now? She held up a piece of paper in front of Ben and then slammed it down on the table. "That's a B, Ben," she said angrily. "A B!!! Do you understand? I'm not gonna get into Harvard with a B!"

Some of the air started to return to Ben's lungs, and he managed to blurt out, through clenched teeth, "I'm ... sorry ... was ... so busy that week ... won't ... happen again ..."

Katie strode forward, put her hands on his shoulders, and brought her face within inches of his. "YOU BETTER BELIEVE it won't happen again, buddy!" she said.

"So ... sorry!"

"Oh, you ain't seen 'sorry' yet!" She walked a few steps away, then turned back around and nodded to Gill. Gill walked behind Ben, grabbed his arms, and twisted them behind his back, all the while using her feet to push his legs apart. Deep down, I knew what was coming, but I didn't want to admit it to myself.

"I'm sorry, but can't you see?" Ben pleaded. "Six months and this is the first B. I have to do my own work too!"

"I know you do, Ben," Katie replied smoothly. "But you see, you have to learn to prioritize correctly. From now on, my work comes first, and yours comes second. You got that?" Ben didn't reply; Gill twisted his arm harder. "You got that?" Katie asked again.

"Y-yes," he said.

My head was swimming. Katie Sung, our school's golden girl, the hope of tomorrow, the girl who was going to walk in the gates of Harvard and Stanford, was a cheat!! She was using Ben Freeland to do her math homework for her. (I later discovered that she was doing the same thing with many other students, both male and female, in all of her classes.) And one of my best friends had been hiding this secret from me the whole time?

Katie continued. "And anything less than an A ..." she said ominously, "well, why don't I give you a taste of what'll happen if I get anything less than an A."

I could see the terror in Ben's eyes. "I'll scream," he said.

"No," Katie replied confidently. "You'll try to scream." She nodded to Gill, who clapped her hand over Ben's mouth. Katie brought her leg back.

There were so many emotions running through my head. The first was disillusionment. The second was anger. "Six months"??! How could she have been getting away with it for so long? Isn't anyone going to realize that her impressive CV is a house of cards? And now she's going to destroy my friend's manhood, after he risked his entire academic career for her, just because he slipped up and put himself first for once in six months??!!!! What a bitch!

Of course, the real reason she could get away with things like this is because people like me never tried to stop her. (There were a few complaints made about her later in the year, but by that time she was in bed [figuratively, not literally] with the principal and was therefore fireproof.) So, you may be asking, why didn't I rush out of hiding to defend my friend?

Two reasons. First and foremost, I knew what a cheerleader's legs and a pair of boots could do to a man, and I didn't think it would do Ben any good if I were demolished within seconds of revealing myself. The second reason is more complex: On some level, I enjoyed seeing Ben get his nuts kicked in. I know that sounds terrible, but bear with me. The fact is I was jealous of him. I was one of the best math students at the school, but my skills were only a fraction of his. No cheerleaders ever approached me to do their work for them. Also, I used to be friends with two cheerleaders, but that had fizzled out the previous school year (as I will eventually write about). Needless to say, while it lasted I had not wasted an opportunity to crow about it. Now I had just learned that one of my good friends had been in close contact with two sexy cheerleaders for the past six months, and he hadn't even told anyone?

I don't know whether jealously or cowardice - or just plain disbelief - was a greater factor in my decision to keep hidden, but I did. The world seemed to shift into slow motion. I could see tears rolling down Ben's cheeks. I could see his lips move as he begged for mercy, but no sound came out. I could see Katie's shapely leg draw back and then spring forward. I could see the sadistic smile on Gill's face grow and grow. South of my belt buckle, I could feel an erection rising even as I fought back the urge to cry out with sympathy pain.

She kicked him three times.

I will always remember the look on Ben's face when Katie was done with him. His glasses were completely askew, his face was soaked with tears, and he was whimpering like a little girl. Gill released him, and he slumped to the ground like a sack of potatoes. Clara held up her "B" assignment and dropped it over his incapacitated corpus. I wondered if there was anything I could say to Ben the next time I saw him that would give him comfort without shaming him. I realized that the best thing I could do was pretend the whole incident never happened.

The girls were leaving the room now. Just in time, I realized that if they saw me, my apples would be turned into applesauce, and I skedaddled. By now it was only about 10 minutes until the end of lunch, so I headed into the cafeteria to get a cup of coffee. Just as I was about to pour, I heard some familiar voices behind me. I turned and, sure enough, the witch's hats and dark costumes were headed toward me. "Oh shit," I thought, but I kept my cool and was about to pour when I heard Katie say, "Hey!"

My hand was shaking, but I did my best to appear calm as I turned to face her. "Hey," she said, "You're about to finish the coffee."

She was right. The coffeepot was almost empty. I looked down at it. "There's enough for two cups here," I said.

"Yeah, but you're gonna leave me with just the dregs!" she said. I looked at her, not comprehending what she wanted me to do. "Look," she said, smiling, "Why don't you let me take the coffee first? I'll be sure to leave a little for you!"

Now, today, if a sexy Asian girl in a short skirt asked me a favor, I would comply without hesitation. But this was before my Asian fetish, and moreover I had just seen her humiliate and abuse my friend. As I looked at her, I wanted to tell her off. I wanted to publicly expose her at the cheat, the fraud, and the bully that she was. I wanted to destroy her.

Instead, I just said in a voice which meant to sound confident but came out sounding weak, "Look, I was here first. Just wait your turn, okay?"

I knew I had made a terrible mistake when I saw an all-too-familiar smile start to creep across Gill's face. I felt as if I was trapped in a nightmare - I knew what was coming, but I was powerless to stop it. Slowly and deliberately, Katie placed her hand on top of mine in holding the coffeepot. She looked me directly in the eyes and smiled disarmingly. Then she swiftly kicked me in the crotch. I let out a girlish yelp and leaped backward, letting go of the coffeepot (which remained in her hand), and doubled over, holding my testicles in my hands. It was actually a rather soft hit, but it was enough to incapacitate me. Gill held her hand in front of her mouth, barely muffling her righteous laughter at my downfall. Exactly contrary to my wishes, it was Katie who had exposed me. She had shown me to be a weak, pathetic excuse for a man. The witch had worked her magic, and I was her deserving victim.

After she finished pouring her cup of coffee, Katie looked at me (still doubled over) and, with a warm smile, poured the rest of the coffee down the drain. (So much for "Wait your turn.") With a smirk she placed her witch's hat on my head. She and Gill walked away, still laughing....

Another Man Boobs Story

By bustedbyruddysat15

Some background: My fictional protagonist, Man Boobs, is an overweight virgin with an Asian fetish who goes to school in Southern California.

Those are offended by a discussion of the "Asian fetish" in a fictional context, consider yourself warned. Keep in mind that the opinions expressed are those of a fictional character, not me.

Once again: This story is a work of FICTION.

Those of you who are close readers of this blog will remember that I took an aerobics class this past semester. What I did not mention was that that aerobics class had a 15-to-1 female/male ratio, with me being the only male. (Well, Cheng-Su and Sandra would dispute that, but whatever.) And this being Southern California, when I say "female," I mean female, if you know what I mean! Yup, 15 babes, one dude (making 16 pairs of breasts in all), and I managed to emerge from that class just as virginal as when I went in.

If you think that's bad, you should keep in mind that I took cardio kickboxing at my old institution. The ratio there? More like 50-to-1. And my virginity? Still in no danger.

I'd like to share a story from that class, however, that illustrates the dangers of trolling for pussy where you're not welcome. Of the 40 or 50 so girls who came to that class - invariably wearing short shorts or Spandex or other tight-fitting, skin-showing garments - there were quite a few who were cute. And of those cute ones, there were a few who were Asian. And of those who were Asian, there was one in particular who caught my eye. Her name was Lily Ming.

Lily was in the same department as me, and we had some classes together. She was a short girl, super-quiet, who never spoke up in class. She was the kind of demure Asian wallflower you'd never even notice unless you had a particularly bad case of yellow fever. On the gym floor, however, was another matter entirely. Every class, she was out front and center, in a skimpy sports bra and short shorts, punching and kicking and kneeing like nobody's business. Needless to say, I got quite hard watching her, and if my penis weren't so short I'm sure my erection would have been noticed bursting out of my gym shorts. (Of course, the girls did their best to avoid looking at me, since the sight of my man boobs bouncing as I exercised was quite repulsive, but in a room that size it was unavoidable.)

Anyway, on occasion in the class it became time to partner up for some exercise or other. I always made sure to stand next to some cute girls in case this happened, but when it did the girls never turned to me; they paired up amongst themselves and I was left with some fat unpopular cow. After this happened three or four times I ordered myself to grow a pair and actually ask a girl to be my partner.

Well, one day it happened. I heard the magic words - "Pair up!" - and I went for it. I headed straight for the first girl I laid eyes on to ask her to partner up with me. As it turned out, for some reason my eyes came to rest on Lily's rock-hard abs and toned buttocks. So, in one of the most ballsy moves I've ever made, I asked her. She stared at me, uncomprehending, for what seemed like an eternity. Then it slowly dawned on her that to turn me down would be "rude," and as a proper good little Asian girl, there was no way she could be "rude." I had trapped her! SUCCESS!!!

Our instructor, a MILFy-hot redhead who was still in great shape (her name was Mary Lou, and she was a dead ringer for Marilu Henner) gave us instructions for what we were supposed to do. She told us that in addition to exercise, the punches and kicks and combos she taught us had practical value - they could be used for self-defense. To show us how these moves might work against an opponent, she had us get some padded cushions out of a storage closet. We were instructed to have one partner hold up the bag while the other one practiced their combos on it. I chivalrously offered to let Lily go first, and she accepted. She threw a couple of punches - hard - which nearly knocked me off my feet with their impact. "Don't wuss out!" I told myself, steadying. I managed to hold the bag firm as she completed her jabs, crosses, and uppercuts.

"All right, girls!" Mary Lou sang out (yes, she referred to us all as "girls," my presence notwithstanding), "Time for front kicks!" I lowered the bag accordingly.

Lily's eyes met mine for the first time. She spoke softly. "Higher."

"Excuse me?"

A bit louder. "Higher!" A pause. "Please?"

I obediently raised the bag slightly. "Okay?"

She stared impatiently. "Higher, please?" I complied. "A bit higher?"

I didn't know what she was looking for. Surely no woman could kick that high?! I can't deny I was feeling a bit exasperated. I raised the bag to my chest. "That high enough for you?"

"Perfect," she replied as she launched her kick.

I was preparing for the bag to absorb some impact, so I was momentarily surprised when my arms felt nothing. That's when I realized that her kick had missed the bag entirely. Instead, it had struck lower - much lower, if you know what I mean.

The next few seconds are a complete blur. I must have let out a girlish, high-pitched scream, because every head in the gym turned toward me. My eyes were popping out of my skull, my breathing was painful and labored, I was bent at both the waist and the knees, and my hands were clutching my privates. Every girl in that room immediately knew what had happened to me. For a few moments there was complete silence. Then I heard it: laughter. A few snickers at first, then more, then 50 girls openly laughing at my humiliation.

By this time I had fallen to my knees. Mary Lou came over. She was doing her best to look sympathetic, but I could tell that she was barely holding back her mirth. Lily spoke up immediately. "He must have moved the bag right as I was kicking ... I'm sorry, but ... well, how would I know he would flinch?"

(Ouch. First she busts my balls, and now she blames it on my wussiness! Only an Asian ...)

"That's okay," Mary Lou told her. She smiled as she bent over and offered me her hand. She pulled me up from my knees, but I was too weak to stand completely upright. She flashed me a charming and sympathetic smile. "Hurts, huh?"


But I just nodded dumbly.

"Yeah, I know," she continued. "It's gonna hurt for a while, okay? Don't feel too bad, though. It happens to every guy in this class sooner or later." At this, she turned her head and, I swear, winked at Lily!


But there was nothing I could do.

"Alright, everyone, back to your practicing!" Mary Lou shouted to the class. She turned her attention to me. "Let's get you some ice. Lily, would you mind taking him to the nurse's office?"

"Gee, I'd love to, Mary Lou," she replied, "but I really don't want to miss this workout."

Mary Lou nodded. She turned to me. "Well, Man Boobs," she said, "Think you can make it to the nurse's on your own?"

"I'm ... not sure," I replied in falsetto.

"Well, you're going to have to!" she said, laughing. She smiled sympathetically again. "Listen, if you don't feel up to coming in on Thursday, well ... I won't count you absent." With that, she walked back to lead the class. Lily went to find another partner.

"Wait!" I called out to Lily. She turned. Her face was a blank slate; her expression, inscrutable.

"WHY??" I asked.

She looked at me without changing expression for a moment. Then she said, softly and demurely, "It was an accident."

Good answer. Nothing "rude" about an "accident," right? But I know the truth. Man Boobs' Rule #3: When it comes to Asian women and groin pain, there are no "accidents."

Man Boobs

By bustedbyruddysat15

Has there ever been someone you knew in real life who was so close to a sexual fantasy that you couldn't believe they were actually flesh-and-blood? Well, I was lucky enough to know TWO such people: Identical twins Eva and Ava Bennett.

I've been holding off writing about them for a long time, because the memories are so painful, and writing about them is much less fun than writing "Hall of Fame" entries or posting pictures of beautiful women in bikinis. But this website is about documenting my humiliations, so I suppose I have to do it sometime.

When I was in 10th grade, I transferred to an exclusive residential academy some 200 miles away from home. While it was often stereotyped as a "nerd school," I discovered that the distribution was just like any other school: "cool" kids who were obnoxious assholes, "nerds" who were painfully socially inept losers, and a large middle. When I first came to the school, I was part of that middle, but as my personality began to show through I was quickly classified among the losers.

The fact that it was not immediately obvious that I was a nerdy loser is the only reason that Ava Bennett ever talked to me. She and her sister were identical twins, but she was the prettier and more flirtatious of the two. Both sisters had gorgeous faces, lovely dark blonde hair, and long, lithe, flexible bodies. And their legs ... oh Lord. Legs like that are all it takes to remind me why God made women.

Some of my peers believed that another girl in our class, Emily Sanderson, was the hottest, because she had pretty big boobs for a high schooler. But I've never been into boobs, so I barely gave Emily a look. No, legs have always been my fascination, and that's why Ava was always the number one hottest girl in the school for me, with Eva close behind at number 3. (Number 2 was their close friend Edie Flagg.) Ava, Eva, and Edie were all cheerleaders, and when they came to school in their cheerleading outfits, the boys' bathrooms were always full. I have a distinct memory - and I swear, this is a 100% true story - of Ava coming up to me on a day when she was dressed up (tight blouse, short skirt) and asking me for help on a math problem set. I gave her the help she needed and then excused myself, ran at top speed back to my room, and gave myself a thorough spanking. That is the only time in my life I've ever lost my sense of self-control so readily.

Anyway, after that introduction if I told you that Ava and I were friends, you'd think I was lying, but I swear to you it isn't so. We met very soon after coming to the academy, and I hadn't yet gained a reputation for loser-dom. She and her sister had come from an all-girls Catholic school, and she was very outgoing and flirtatious, with a bit of a thing for nerds. She asked me on a date (NO, REALLY, SHE DID - I SWEAR!!!) and I accepted. During the date, my lack of social skills became obvious, and she sweetly but firmly dropped me down to "friend" status. (I responded by sweetly but firmly wrapping my hand around my cock a minimum of five times a day for the next six months.)

I remained in the "friend" position for both sisters for the rest of my sophomore year. But the next year, things changed. Social circles began to reify, and the girls consolidated their positions as queen bees by dumping their nerdy buds, of which I was one.

None of the guys liked getting dismissed by their hot female friends, but as nerds they lacked the social capital to do anything about it, so they quietly retired to the privacy of their bedrooms and fantasized about what might have been. (I heard that one of the more arrogant geeks, a dude named Kenny, tried to get in Ava's face, and she responded by kicking him in the groin, but that may just have been an urban legend.)

My first hint that the girls had a dark side actually came during the first year that I knew them. Ava and I worked in the same office. One afternoon, our supervisor went home early. She left us a key and told us to clean up a back storeroom. Anyway, we got to work. Ava was dressed pretty nicely - blouse and skirt again - so I ended up doing most (read: all) of the heavy work, while she did a little bit of filing and looked after her nails. Around 4:30, her sister and Edie arrived. She technically wasn't supposed to leave until 5, but she asked me to sign her out at that time. I regretfully told her I couldn't do it. She nodded and said she understood. Then she winked at Eva and Edie. I wasn't sure what that meant, and for a second I was suspicious, but then she said, "Well, I guess I'll just have to help you get done as quickly as possible." Wow, I thought to myself, what a sweetheart.

Then she bent over to pick up a heavy box marked "FRAGILE." Now Ava was quite the athlete, a skilled gymnast and member of the cross-country and soccer teams as well as the cheerleading squad. However, the fact is that even a weak guy has more upper-body strength than a strong girl, so when I saw she was struggling I quickly told her not to bother and picked it up myself. To my surprise, it was far heavier than I expected. Also, I had been doing heavy lifting for the past hour or so, so my arms were pretty weak.

Anyway, I almost dropped it, and Ava called out, "Careful! You don't want to break it." I had no idea what "it" was, but I knew that I would get in trouble if I wasn't careful, so I balanced the weight in my arms. Realizing that I wasn't strong enough, I shifted it to over my head. That made it easier to hold up, so I looked around for a place on the upper shelf to put it down. Too late, I realized that there was no room!

I looked at the girls, who seemed to be silently giggling. It's not that funny, I thought to myself. Just then, Eva stepped forward. "Hey Man Boobs," she said, "You wanna see the new cheerleading move we've been practicing?"

With my hands above my head, my balance was fine, but I couldn't shift without the danger of dropping the box and breaking its contents. In other words, my hands were stuck in the "up" position. I couldn't protect myself. Of course, at the time I didn't think I needed to - it was only in retrospect that I realized how skillfully Ava had maneuvered me to get me right where they wanted me.

Anyway, at the time I had absolutely no idea what to do. Three super-hot hotties - the three hottest girls in my class - were standing in front of me, wearing short skirts and offering to practice a cheerleading move on me ... uh, I mean, in front of me (sorry, foreshadowing). Well, what should I have said? What would you have done in my situation?

"Uh ... okay," I replied, trying to sound "cool" and noncommittal without actually declining. Eva smiled disarmingly. "Thanks so much!" she said. "Here ..." She organized the other girls next to her, Edie on her left and Ava on her right, directly in front of me. I could feel my dick stiffen. "Ready? Okay!"

The girls whirled around, their skirts swirling in a way that brought out my full 4 inches. Then Edie, smiling brightly, did a swift and powerful front kick. Eva followed suit, also smiling. Despite my naïveté, it was now starting to dawn on me what they had in mind. Ava smiled wider that I thought humanly possible. As horrified as I was, I was also 100% aroused. She brought her knee up and made eye contact with me. Her expression did not change, but I was sure I saw a twinkle in her eye.

Then, in a flash, came the kick. Completely immobilized, I closed my eyes and flinched in preparation for the blow - a blow which did not come.

When I opened my eyes, I saw that she was holding her foot just an inch away from my boy parts. All three girls burst out laughing. Slowly, she raised her foot into my crotch. I could feel my balls being lifted up and lightly pressed against my pelvis. She did this a couple more times. The message was unmistakable: I own you. I can manipulate you. I can destroy your manhood any time I feel like it.

She lowered her leg to the ground. "Bye, Man Boobs!" she said with a smile. "Sign me out at 5, ok?" I nodded, powerless to object. Then she and her friends took off. I was in no pain, but I got no work done the rest of the evening - I was too busy jerking off.


So yeah, enough about the good old days of 10th grade, when Ava and I were still friends. Like the rest of her nerd ex-pals, I was crushed when she stopped saying "hi" to me in the hallway and brushed me off when I tried to talk to her. However, my reaction was straight-up posing. I didn't tell anyone about her change in attitude; instead, I carried on like we were still tight, and I started making broad innuendos suggesting that we were more than friends. (I had been seen in public with her just enough times to make this - barely - possible.) Anyway, there was a common perception among the male population of my school that the twins were sluts (in reality, both were strictly observant Catholics), and I subtly encouraged this perception.

I was a lot more brash in those days, so I didn't really care about what happened if my macho bragging happened to spread beyond my circle of nerd-loser friends. That's why I made a fateful mistake one day in my biology class. The teacher was discussing identical and fraternal twins. He brought up the Bennett sisters and said that he couldn't tell them apart. He then asked if there was anyone who could tell them apart. I said that I could, which was true - I had spent enough time with them to notice subtle difference, and in any event Ava was definitely prettier. But when he asked how I told them apart, I decided to be cheeky. I was about to say, "By smell." But then, at the last second, I changed it to what I thought would be a funnier punchline: "By taste." But instead of a laugh, all I heard from the class was "Ewwww." Too late, I realized the sexual implication of what I had said.

Compounding my fate, I decided to play it up and act like I was a player by laughing naughtily. Big mistake.

Naïf that I was, I honestly didn't expect the news of my faux pas to extend beyond the walls of my biology classroom. My first indication that it had was a run-in with my nemesis, Clarence Longdick. Clarence was an annoying but genetically blessed jerk who somehow managed to get dates with every girl that I had a crush on, then turn them against me. (He ended up following me to my undergrad school, where he got a hot kinky Asian girlfriend the first semester and proceeded to have sex with her regularly for the next four years. And yes, he's still an asshole.) Anyway, later that day I passed Clarence in the hallway. He wasn't in my bio class, but I guess he had friends who were.

"Hey, I heard you said you gave head to the Bennett twins," he said to me smarmily.

I was a bit surprised that my thoughtless comment had spread so far in such a short time, but I foolishly figured it couldn't do more than enhance my "rep," so I just laughed and said, "Maybe."

I expected him to make some smarmy reply, but instead he looked genuinely concerned. "If I were you I'd stay away from them," he said. "I heard they were pretty pissed off."

"Good one, Clarence," I thought to myself. "I'm sure you want me to stay away from them - so can spend more time around them, slandering me!"

Of course, in the back of mind, it occurred to me that if Clarence had heard about it, the Bennetts probably had as well, and they probably were pissed off. But so what? It's not like we were friends anymore, and besides, what could they do to me? I no longer saw them on a regular basis, and anyway they must know that I wasn't serious, right?

I didn't give it much thought until later in the day, when I was preparing to go back to my dorm. All of a sudden, Edie approached me, smiling. This took me by surprise, because Edie and I had never really spoken. We weren't on bad terms, but we weren't on good terms either - we were just kind of indifferent. (In fact, as hot as she was, I only masturbated about her when my fantasy also included Ava and Eva.) Anyway, she pleasantly asked me to come to the weight room to help her lift something. I was instantly suspicious. First of all, as I said, Edie and I don't know each other, so why would she approach me out of the blue to ask my help? Secondly, why would she ask me, bypassing all those guys who had, you know, muscles?

I happen to be of far-above-average intelligence, but even if I were just average I could have guessed what was coming. But how exactly does a male say no to a sexy girl asking for his macho help? I had no choice. I followed her down to the deserted weight room. When I got there, Ava and Eva were waiting for me. Just as I registered their presence, Edie grabbed my right arm. Eva walked over and grabbed my left. They let me struggle for several seconds, until I gave in. Of all the differences between men and women, the only one in which men are truly superior is that they have, on average, greater upper-body strength. Well, my upper-body strength had been tested against the strength of these two very-feminine babes, and I had been the loser. (On the plus side, that little struggle remains the most intimate contact I have ever had with a female.)

Ava stood in front me, fixing me with her gaze. I was by now resigned to whatever would happen to me, but the sight of her still made a chill go down my spine (and gave me a full erection too, I might add!). She looked me straight in the eye. "Sorry, Man Boobs," she said, "but you brought this on yourself."

I nodded, realizing that she was right. "Thank you for not doing this in public," was my only reply.

She drew her leg back. Eva and Edie each held one of my arms to keep me from covering, and they each hooked a foot around one my legs to keep the target from closing. I braced for the impact. Ava leaned back into kicking stance.

BAM!!! I had been preparing for Ava's kick, but Ava hadn't moved, so I was caught completely off guard. No, it was Eva who had swiftly pivoted from her position on my left and racked me with her knee. Her cheerleading training had given her speed, power, and accuracy, and I was the recipient of all three. I was still reeling from the blow when Ava finally released her full-force front kick.

From that point onward, I pretty much lost the will to live. Ava unleashed four more blistering groin kicks before Eva had a chance to get in a second knee. They alternated like that for several minutes. Every so often, I would feel a hard punch to my 'nads from behind, and I knew that Edie was getting in on the action too.

15 minutes later, I had paid for my mistake many times over. My balls were swollen to three or four times their normal size (which, I must confess, was rather tiny). They were red, and I knew that I would be pissing blood for the next couple of weeks. I could not stand under my own power, which means that when Edie and Eva let go of me, I slumped to the ground and lay there like a sack of potatoes. I knew that it would be prudent to at least cover my crotch with my hands, but I lacked the strength. Instead I just lay on my back, looking up into three of the most beautiful faces I had ever seen.

That's when Eva said exactly the four words I was hoping not to hear: "It's not over yet."

I lost it. Whatever scrap of manhood had been holding back my tears was now gone. I sobbed like a baby.

After a couple minutes, Ava extended her arm and helped me up. "Don't worry," she said soothingly. "We're almost done. You see ... we decided to do this in private to avoid humiliating you. But we still need some proof, so it doesn't look like we let it slide."

The girls quickly and efficiently stripped me to my underwear. (Thankfully, they were too polite to say anything about my man boobs.) Edie got out a digital camera. The Bennett sisters flanked me. They did that common pose girls do where they lift up one knee - except that that knee was placed directly in my groin. As the shutter snapped, I felt the impact lift me off the ground a few inches as my jelly-bellies were mashed into my pelvis. The resulting picture - a perfect vision of emasculation - got passed around our school and even circulated on the Internet for a while. You've probably seen it, and laughed at the poor pathetic schmuck in it. Well, my friends, I am that schmuck.


If you think that after that incident I would never speak to the Bennetts again, you've underestimated the extent to which I am a slave to the skirt. Within a few days of my near-castration, Eva and Ava were smiling and saying hi when they passed me in the hall, and even though I never dared approach them or speak to them, I felt that we had a certain level of intimacy.

Things continued like this into the following year, my senior year of high school. By this time it was 100% obvious that I was going to graduate from high school a virgin, and I had surrounded myself with similarly unlucky friends. One of my best friends was Mark Baker, a tall, reed-thin nerd with thick glasses who, even more than me, was a total horndog. Anyway, Mark, my other friends, and I would often get together and talk about which women we had talked to, which ones had smiled at us, which ones' skirts we had gotten a peek under - in other words, locker room talk, except that none of us had ever touched a woman.

It was during one of these conversations that Mark told me that Ava and Edie were sitting at his table for math class. For a long time, I had been the envy of my group of buds because I had once been friends with the Bennetts, and they still said hi to me when they passed me in the hallway. I enjoyed letting my friends think I had some kind of mojo that gave me an "in" with these goddesses - none of them, of course, knew about the weight room incident - but in fact it had been a long time since I had a conversation with either of them. Now, here was Mark, telling me that he had sat down at a table in math class and, a few minutes later, a goddess and her gorgeous best friend had joined him! I couldn't believe it. Now, if it had been my friend Ben Freeland I could have understood - Ben was widely regarded as a math genius, as I mention in this post. But Mark?! Mark was a rather poor math student. I simply could not believe that those girls were depending on him for help. But the alternative - that they found him attractive - was even more unlikely. Right? I was sure it couldn't be so, but the possibility gnawed at me. I was consumed with jealousy.

I mention all this as background for an incident that happened one day during the first semester of my senior year. I was approached out of the blue by Eva Bennett. Naturally I was pleased to see her, though my privates did ache a bit at the memories she stirred up. Anyway, she asked to speak to me alone, and I complied. Then she informed that she wanted my help in playing a trick on Mark.

"Her too??" I thought despairingly. Up until a few weeks ago, I had been the only member of my clique of friends whose existence Ava and Eva were even aware of. Now both sisters were on first-name terms with Mark, and so intimate that they were playing pranks on him? I bit my lip, hoped that my skin wasn't turning green with envy, and heard her out.

This was her plan: She told me to start a conversation with Mark. While I kept him engrossed in the conversation, she would creep up behind him and play a game of kickball (my phrasing, not hers).

I was flabbergasted. This was Eva Bennett, the sweet, friendly, Catholic-school girl I had once known? Yes, she had kneed me quite hard in the balls several times the year before, but I had deserved it for my piggishness. But a groin kick done as a practical joke??!! On my best friend?! There was only one possible answer I could give: Yes.

"Yes"? That's right. You see, the green-eyed monster had consumed me. I just couldn't wait to see my best friend doubled over in pain while a cheerleader and I high-fived and laughed at him.

Eva and I quickly made the arrangements for time and place. I lured Mark to the appointed spot and started engaging him in conversation. I don't remember the subject, but he seemed very enthusiastic about it too, and our discussion was unusually animated.

In the middle of it, I noticed Eva, wearing a short skirt, sneak around behind Mark. She gave me a big smile (which I returned, though Mark didn't notice) and a thumbs-up. As I continued to distract Mark with my sparklingly witty comments, she positioned herself behind him. Mark still didn't suspect a thing as she tensed herself and then unleashed a dynamic kick at his fun-bag. In my mind's eye I could see exactly what would happen next - the look of disbelief, the doubling over, the sheer joy in Eva's face - and I could feel my heart pounding in anticipation. Eva's shapely leg traced a perfect arc that ended in full-force contact with Mark's scrotum - and at that moment, I felt a searing pain in my genitalia!

I must have blacked out for a split second, because the next thing I knew both Mark and I were rolling on the ground, holding our privates and writhing in agony. Eva was laughing her pretty little head off, and as she did so, AVA walked over to her from behind me, also laughing, and they exchanged high-fives! WHAT THE FUCK????!!!!!

Slowly, as my brain was able to function again, I pieced together what had happened. As Eva had snuck behind Mark and kicked him, Ava must have done the same thing to me. But wait ... if she were behind me, surely Mark must have seen her, right? So then why didn't he say or do anything?

That's when the full truth sunk in. I now recalled some odd smiles and gestures Mark seemed to be giving when he talked to me - actions that seemed to be directed to someone vaguely behind me - but I didn't turn and look because I was too busy staring at Eva! Here's what must have happened: Ava had, at some point prior to my conversation with Mark, approached him with the exact same offer that Eva had made to me - except with me as the victim!!!

Let me be very clear about one thing: Mark and I were, and still are, extremely close friends. We have gone through many things together and almost always been there for each other. But we were both willing to help in getting the other humiliated and emasculated while we just stood and watched. We had both been willing to stab the other in the back for the sake of a pretty cheerleader who didn't even care about us.

As we lay on the ground, Ava took pity on us. "Don't take it personally," she said. "We just wanted to see if we could get two good buddies to turn on each other, and we chose you guys because ... well, you know." She left the termination of her phrase uncompleted: "... because you're both nerdy losers, because neither of you has anything of value between your legs, because you're both so insecure that you wouldn't dare make a complaint, because it doesn't matter if we do permanent damage to your sexual organs because both of you are going to die as virgins ..." and so on.

Eva smiled as well. "I guess it's 'chicks before dicks' for you guys!" she said, laughing.

Mark and I are still best friends - we saw each other over the past school break, and spent New Year's Eve together, in fact. But we never, ever spoke about our run-in with the Bennett twins - and we never will. While I can't speak for Mark, I think I know the reason why. You see, as I lay on the ground cupping my privates, watching two super-hot chicks in short skirts laugh and congratulate themselves on causing my pain, I couldn't help but well ... rub myself. Down there, you know. And I had what I must confess was the best orgasm of my life. I suspect that Mark did something similar. And well ... you know how classical conditioning works. Over the past several years, I have done an extremely good job of convincing myself that I'm not gay. But when my most satisfying sexual experience came in the presence of my male buddy - when I still can't look at that buddy without feeling a tingle "down there" - well, even I begin to have to have my doubts.

The Bikini

By bustedbyruddysat15

My first attempt at publishing a story, so please be kind...

This is a total work of fiction, not meant to imply a resemblance to any actual persons or events. Though it is written in the first person, the main character is “not” me. The opinions expressed in it are those of a fictional character, “not” my own.

The bikini.

What is it about that little two-piece garment that captures my attention so?


I am covered in a pool of sweat. My skin has turned the color of molasses, my flesh smells like overdone barbecue, and I am completely dehydrated. Why? For the past two hours, I have been sitting on a dark black bench, under the hot midday sun, pretending to read. I have no water and nothing resembling shade. Less than six feet in front of me, an Asian girl lies on the grass in a blue string bikini. She is lying on her stomach, her shapely legs curled languorously above her taut, firm body. When she first caught me staring at her, she glared at me over the top of her tinted sunglasses until I looked away, but she has long since grown oblivious to my gaze. She toils industriously at her schoolwork, a book in one hand and a highlighter in the other.

It is about 3:15 PM. Around one, as I was returning from class, I passed a grassy plaza in front of one of the undergrad dorms. I saw something out of the corner of my eye, and as red-blooded heterosexual young man, I couldn’t help but turn my head. Now, I’m new to southern California. I’m sure the locals are used to seeing nubile college girls lying around in two-piece bathing suits, but I’m sure as hell not. My brain told me to keep going, but my autopilot steered me to the only unoccupied bench, which just happened to be right in front of “her”. When she looked up, I got the shock of my life: She was Asian! I’ve always had a thing for Asian girls – not that any of them have ever shown any interest in me – but I was used to seeing them in modest button-down shirts. An Asian girl in a skimpy lime-green string bikini held together by what looked like dental floss was almost too much for me to take. As I walked toward her, she glanced up and I could see her categorize me: “sketchy grad student”. “Sigh.” No argument there, I’m afraid. She tried to stare me away, but when she saw I wasn’t going anywhere she proceeded to ignore me and concentrate on soaking up the sun. I took out a reading I had just gotten in class are proceeded to stare past it as I fantasized about her.

After about an hour, she was satisfied with her tan and got up, giving me an eyeful of her gorgeous bod. She made eye contact with me, and I shamefacedly looked away. As I did so, I spotted “another” Asian girl making her way across the grass. She was wearing a T-shirt and skirt, but across the back of her neck I could spot the telltale bow that indicated a string bikini top. “Oh god”, I thought to myself, “Could I be so lucky?” I could and I was. Like a librarian in a porn movie, she doffed her glasses, let down her long, luxuriant black hair, and shucked off her shirt and skirt, revealing a satisfyingly toned body to go with her impossibly cute face. My boner stretched to its full 4 inches, nearly bursting through my jeans. I longed to snake my hand down my pants and jerk it like there was no tomorrow, but I was in a public place. Instead I just stared.

No sunglasses, no hat, no water – and no shade. I had come completely unprepared for my libidinous adventure, and as the day grew hotter I felt like I was in a torture chamber. All I had to do was get up and leave, but I couldn’t take my eyes off the beautiful creatures in front of me. It was as if those girls had sadistically trapped me in a cage – but deep down, I knew that it was my own sex drive that had trapped me.

After a bit over an hour, the girl seemingly took mercy on me and got up. She was short, but her body made up for it. She was straight in all the right places and curvy in all the rest (well, as much as Asian girl can be “curvy”). She had the face of an angel, but with just a hint of naughtiness. She glared at me as she got up, but I didn’t care. To my surprise, she didn’t put her clothes back on – just tossed them over her arm and started walking back. I dumbly followed, driven by my lower brain again. I didn’t care how obvious I was being. I’m a 21-year-old grad student who is still a virgin. In other words, I’m pathetic, desperate, lonely, and horny. Without lifting a finger, this Asian girl had stripped me of my pride, my dignity, and my sense of shame.

I don’t know why I was following her, what I planned to do. My upper brain told me to back off, but the flimsy spaghetti straps of her bikini beckoned me on. All of a sudden, I followed her around a corner – and she was gone. Disappeared.

I snapped back to reality. What the hell was I doing?? Spending two hours in the hot sun? Desperately ogling two girls I would never see again? Stalking undergrads? God, I really was the epitome of the “sketchy grad student.” Man, I’m never doing that again …

Just as suddenly, she reappeared, stepping out from behind a wall. I realized that she had hidden herself in order to confront me. “Oh shit”, I thought, “she’s gonna kill me”. But to my surprise, she smiled!

“Hi,” she said warmly.

“Oh my God, she’s actually into me!!!”

“Hi,” I cautiously replied.

“What’s your name?”


“Are you a grad student?”

“Yeah … f-first-year master’s.”

“Oh? What department?”


“I see. Well, Jamie, my name is Wendy and I’m an undergraduate sophomore majoring in psychology.”

Self-disclosure!! Yes!!!


“So, Jamie …”


“Now that you know something about me, aren’t you even slightly ashamed of what you’ve been doing?”

OUCH. In a flash, I realized that she wasn’t “into” me at all – quite the opposite, in fact. She had set me up with the precision of a surgeon, and her last sentence landed like a dagger between my legs. I was a pervert who had been caught in the act, and we both knew it. I was flustered, and yet curiously my flag had started to unfurl itself to its full four inches again.

“Uhh …”

““Uhhhhhhhhh”,” she drawled in a mock basso, imitating me. “Dude, my eyes are up ‘here’.” My gaze had wandered down to her chest, which was barely held in by her stringy top. I quickly returned to looking into her deep, wide brown eyes. She shook her head in disgust, as if to say, “What a jerk.”

“Look …” she began. Then she stopped. She stepped forward and put her hands on my shoulders.

Bone city!!!

“I’m … sorry?” I said unconvincingly. (I really wasn’t.)

“No,” was her terse reply.


It took me several seconds to comprehend what she had done. The pain began in my lower stomach and slowly radiated upward. I looked into her lovely eyes and there was no change in expression. Then, slowly but surely, a smirk spread across her flawless face.

“‘Now’ you’re sorry,” she said.

She kneed me in the groin. She kneed me in the groin! She KNEED me in the GROIN!! SHE KNEED ME IN THE GROIN!!!

Balls, crotch, nuts, testicles, family jewels, call them what you will. She went for my most vital organs, the center of my manhood. My jeans offered some resistance, but my tighty-whities held my boys firm and gave them nowhere to escape to as her patella smashed them against my pelvis. Pushing down on my shoulders had crushed them even further. In her sadistic genius, she even had gone out of her way to give me an erection, so that they would be swollen and extra-sensitive. Smart ‘and’ beautiful – what a woman!

I doubled over in agony, unable to look into her doe-like eyes anymore. My hands clutched my testes, which had begun to throb with pain. To my surprise, my erection had not gone away, but I could feel my balls start to swell. “I should get some ice” … but I wasn’t going anywhere. I continued falling, sinking to my knees. The pain had blocked out my hearing, but when I looked up at her I could see that she was laughing. “Oh, she looks so beautiful when she’s happy …”

“What the hell is wrong with you? She KICKED YOU IN THE NUTS and now she’s LAUGHING AT YOU. What a sadistic bitch! Shouldn’t you be plotting how to get even with her?”

Get even … yes … yes, get even … owwwww!! Pain!!! So much pain!!!!

I couldn’t remain upright anymore, the pain was so excruciating. I flopped over onto my side. With a shudder of horror, I realized that I had assumed the much-ridiculed fetal position. She had taken my manhood from me, and I knew that I would never be able to look at another Asian girl without feeling this agony from the fiery pits of hell. And since I go to the University of Southern California; that was a serious problem. “Hmm, maybe a transfer to Alabama State?”

My vision began to clear, and I looked up at her. She had put her skirt and T-shirt back on, but she was still a beacon of loveliness. I wanted to say something to her, but what? What could I express? Anger? Regret? Bitterness? I wanted to howl at her, to tell her how unfair what she had done to me was, how I didn’t deserve to lose my manhood because of a little voyeurism. But it was all a moot point, because her blow had driven the air from my lungs. In addition to everything else, she had robbed me of my voice.

“Bye, “Jay-mie”,” she said seductively, smiling at me and waving in a flirty manner. I watched her walk away, her cute behind swaying back and forth underneath her tight skirt. I could still see the outlines of her bikini under her clothes, and that bow was still perched enticingly on the back of her neck. I felt my body shudder with orgasm, my broken and bloodied genitals spurting out the last gasps of my sexual fever. The taste of acid was in my throat, and then my lunch was on the ground. I lay in a pool of my own vomit, paralyzed by my pain.

She was right. I “was” sorry now. Sorry that I had been born a man.


The bikini.

What is it about that little two-piece garment that captures my attention so?