A Small Lesson

He said as he walked, "No worries, dude, I was grabbing you. It could happen to anybody at that point." I hurriedly shoved my pulsing erection back into my shorts, cursing my stupidity in pulling it out in the first place. Ian arrived at the napkins and dropped into a squat, rummaging through them for a relatively dry one. I could again see the gorgeous globes of his ass parting and revealing his fuzzy hole, and his balls hanging down between his legs. Weirdly, I couldn't see the tip of his foreskin like I usually could—since it hung past his balls—, but I was quickly distracted.

"Ah, here, this is gross, you need something clean," I said, reaching for the napkins. My hand stopped short as I realized how gross they really were, and I said quickly, "Aaaactually, lemme grab a clean one to pick those up with."

A minute later his napkins had been replaced with a washcloth, nicely folded at the edge of the table, and the glaringly obvious tent in my shorts had subsided. I awkwardly returned to the couch.

"Sorry, that was..." I trailed off.

"Water under the bridge. Boners happen," he said from his bean bag. He rolled back towards me and hooked his right leg up so that it was resting on the bean bag, almost straddling it. It served a double purpose of covering his junk without him needing to use a hand. It didn't cover his ass, though, which was displayed in all its glory in the mid-morning sun.

"So, what were saying earlier?" he asked.

I took a minute to figure out what he was referencing. "Oh, about the ring? Yeah, at the minute it's just the one you saw, a ring with a single tension bead. My usual piece, though, is a prince's wand. I just lost my last one a while back and hadn't bothered to unpack the new one I ordered a couple months ago."

"What's a—"

I interrupted him with a chuckle. "A prince's wand is a... well, it's a tube, and then it had a bit that sticks out that... you know what, why don't I just grab the box and open it?" I finished, standing and going to my bedroom.

After a couple minutes of rummaging, I located the box and took it back out to open it. I plopped down on the couch with a pair of scissors, and Ian looked on in curiosity.

After a minute of cutting and ripping, I pulled out a velvet bag, undid the drawstrings, and pulled out the piece. Ian whistled appreciatively. "Wow. Wait, what? How does that even... OH." His last phrase ended with his eyes popping open as he started to comprehend how it worked.

"That—that tube goes... inside?" he said, eyes wide.

I held it up. It was about three inches long, just slightly shorter than my flaccid dick. The main portion was a tube of stainless steel, with one end tapering slightly for insertion, and the other end sporting a large ball with a hole in it, which would press up against my urethral opening once fully inserted, completely obscuring the tube. The last piece was a small bar sticking off the bottom, threaded on one end to screw into the tube, and with a solid ball on the other end. That part would fit through my prince Albert hole when inserted.

I chuckled at his question. "Yep. It's no thicker than a large sounding rod. Takes some working up to, but once your dick is used to it, it becomes a lot easier. You also don't have to take these out much, though, so once it's in you're good for a while."

"A... sounding rod?" came Ian's hopelessly naive response. I stared at him in amused incredulity.

"You've never heard of those either?!" I exclaimed.

He just shrugged and waited for me to continue. My brain started racing. Can I... will he freak out? Is this even ethically ok? I finally came to a decision, though my heartbeat continued to thunder in my ears.

"You know, you've already seen me... you know," I said, making a hand motion with my finger extending up and out, and making an ascending slide whistle noise to drive it home. He laughed as I continued, "Do you wanna just... see me swap it out?"

I was surprised to see him seem to consider this seriously. His head tipped to the side again as he thought, and my heart somersaulted against my ribcage. "I mean... not super specifically—" my heart fell "—but also absolutely. I'm not even sure I believe it actually works like that," he said with a laugh. My heart recovered somewhat from its earlier antics upon hearing his affirmative answer.

"Alright, one sec, I'll grab my stuff."

A couple minutes later I plopped back down onto the couch, spilling an armful of supplies onto the couch next to me. Ian quirked an eyebrow at the pile, but didn't say anything.

"'Kay, so the first thing you gotta do is loosen up your urethra with a sounding rod," I said, reaching for my leather folio, unzipping it, and laying it open on my lap. I grabbed a medium-large stainless steel rod and held it up. "This is a sounding rod. Two sizes, one at each end, and they're slightly curved to accommodate the shape of most people's dicks. Stainless steel for obvious reasons, and tapered just enough to slide in, but not enough to be sharp. Again, obvious reasons." Ian smiled slightly in avid amusement.

I pulled out an alcohol pad and ran my usual routine: wipe down the toy, wave it a couple of times in the air to evaporate the alcohol, and then thoroughly lube. I realized I'd forgotten arguably the most important part, and stood up to shuck my shorts, kicking them toward the hallway. I sat back down and tugged my cock a couple times. It was feeling a little tense, and I realized I was probably still super nervous from the incident earlier.

"One sec here; I'm a little anxious from earlier..." I said nervously.

"You're just stripping naked in front of your captive straight roommate and shoving sex toys down your dickhole in front of him. What's there to be nervous about?" He looked over slyly at my slack-jawed look of horror, laughed, and immediately said, "Woah, woah. I'm totally kidding." He chuckled again. "I mean, technically that was all true, but I didn't mean it in that way."

The exhalation of breath I'd been inadvertently holding was audible, and I felt my shoulders relax slightly. I tugged on my dick a couple more times, and was relieved to find it looser than before. After a couple of light strokes, I glanced over at Ian, who was still watching me. Seeing him looking at my dick and his bubble butt on display was more than enough to kickstart me, and my dick started to firm up. A couple more quick tugs and I was at full mast, the gentle, seven inch curve of my dick ending in the sparkling silver piercing.

I dripped a tiny dot of lube onto the head of my cock and swirled it around, preparing the hole. I had just set the end of the sounding rod inside the opening, when Ian interrupted, "Aren't you gonna take your ring out?"

"Nope, the area at the end of your urethra is quite a bit wider, and the jewelry only encourages that. By the time it's thin enough that the sounding rod completely fills the tube, you're already past the jewelry." Ian gave a slow nod of understanding.

I slowly released the rod, watching the weight of it slowly pull itself down my urethra, sinking without assistance until it was almost halfway down its length, producing a mild burning here and there as it slid. "It does that on its own?!" Ian exclaimed.

I just nodded as I pulled it partway out, lubed it again to reduce the burning, and let it sink back down. The ridiculously full feeling of the rigid rod in my urethra felt so, so good. My cock was pulsing with arousal, and every pulse caused tension against the rod as my naturally curved penis warred against the immovably straight piece of metal inside it.

I touched the end of the rod and twisted it extremely carefully, guiding it past whatever kink had stopped it. I felt the curve of it line up, and it sank another inch or so, causing me to gasp as it exited the sensitive portion of the urethra and into what I called the 'pleasure zone,' where all the mild burning sensations from the urethra suddenly stop. My entire cock pulsed again, flexing against the rod as a delicious, tingling pleasure came from where the rod had stopped.

I quickly realized that I needed to be careful here, as it had been a few days since I last came, and I was getting surprisingly close. The combination of Ian watching me in fascination and my dick involuntarily flexing against the sounding rod was bringing me very near the edge.

I sat there breathing heavily for a minute or so as my erection ever-so-slowly calmed itself and my balls relaxed away from my body, no longer preparing to blow my load everywhere.

Ian spoke up, "So how far down does it go?"

"Uh, it's somewhere a little past the spot where your dick connects to your body. Depending on the thickness of the sound, it can actually stimulate your prostate, which is generally what I aim for. I've never actually pushed it as far as it can go, though. Some people do stupid shit like push them all the way past their bladder sphincter, but I refuse to go to any point where I have to actively push it further.

Once it's weight no longer allows it to sink in further—" here I grasped the tip of the rod and pulled it upwards, drawing an inch-and-a-half or so back out, and then let it go again, which allowed it to sink back in by half an inch "—I give it a little nudge to get it around a little corner in there—" I wiggled the end slightly, feeling it shift deep inside me, until the tension holding it loosened and it sunk another inch by itself, again landing directly on my prostate in the 'pleasure zone' "—and that's pretty much it. After that you can pull it in and out, or wiggle it carefully, or just jerk off with it in. You just have to make sure you either use a rod that's thin enough that you can cum around it, or that you pull it completely out right before you shoot."

My brain was basically static at this point, torn between paying attention to my impromptu sex toy lesson and the fact that I was on the verge of nutting all over the floor. I closed my eyes and tried to focus on anything else as Ian spoke again.

"Wow. So it's like... seven inches down?"

"Close," I said. "I'm seven inches myself, so it's a bit further than that. I haven't thought to measure it, but it's probably eight-and-a-half, maybe nine down," I said huskily.

"Jeez, dude. That's crazy. Wait, so how does the wand work?" he said excitedly.

"Uh..." I felt my cock flex hard against the rod again, which shoved it against my prostate, and I swallowed dryly. "Just a sec here."

"Hmm?" Ian said, lifting an eyebrow.

"I just..." My brain spun a bit more, trying to come up with any sort of explanation that wasn't if I so much as touch myself, I'm going to blow my load all over the place. "...need a sec."

A knowing look danced into Ian's eyes, and I knew I was sunk. "Ah. You're close!" he said, laughing loudly. As he did, though, he leaned slightly back, his leg coming slightly off the bean bag. And there, pressed against the dark microfiber...

Was his rock hard cock.

Or so I thought. It was such a brief flash that literally one second later I was already unsure. How tight had his foreskin looked? Was it just pushed back slightly from being pressed against the fabric funny? Were there veins? How hard was it pressing into the bag? Was it that long flaccid, too? And what if he was hard, but just because he was pressed up against the soft bag?

My mind spun with a thousand possibilities, none of which helped my dick soften. "Wait, Ian..." I started. "Why—why do you want to see this, anyway? Besides the fact that you hated me, I thought you were like... mega homophobic. Not gonna lie, this seems a liiitle gay. Isn't this something you would hate?" The heavier subject matter did its job, at least. I felt the death grip of my urethra on the rod lessen slightly as the blood flow slowed.

Ian was quiet for a minute. He picked at the microfiber idly, his eyes downcast in apparent thought. I watched dust motes dance in the bright sunlight behind him before averting my eyes to stop myself from looking at his ass. Ian sighed right as I began pulling the rod out of my dick, the slick metal dragging along the inside of my cock and sending another wave of pleasure coursing through my abdomen. As the metal tip cleared my urethral opening, my breath hitched, and I had to focus again on not shooting my load.

As I was struggling with my predicament, Ian followed his sigh by saying, "I don't hate you, Corey. I never have. Never will. Probly." He quirked a half smile at his own joke and then continued, "You're right about the homophobia, though. I dunno, it just feels... wrong, you know? Evolution never intended that. My parents say it's just a population control method for... well, for poor people." He grimaced as he said it, at least, but it still cut me.

By the end of his explanation, my dick had calmed significantly, and was beginning to wilt. I ignored it. "Wow. Okay. Well, first off, evolution doesn't 'intend' anythi—"

He cut me off with his hand. "Stop, stop. I know. You're right. And I've known..." He trailed off and shook his head in self-deprecation. "I've known it was bullshit for years. My parents are just bigots. And I guess... so am I. Or so was I, rather." He paused again and picked at the bean bag cover briefly before continuing. "I owe you... a lot—a lot of apologies. But probably the biggest one is for... y'know..."

I could tell he was struggling with his ego again as he grimaced in pain, fighting for words. I tried heading him off by saying, "It's ok, I—"

He cut me off abruptly, "NO. It's not fucking ok! I'm a fucking piece of shit!" he yelled, his voice raw with emotion, every muscle on his flawless, six-inch-tall body flexing with stress. My heart ached a bit from hearing him tear himself down like that. Still straddling the bean bag, he rolled his upper body back until he was facing the ceiling and threw his forearm over his eyes, blocking out the sunlight.

"Come on, Ian. You acted badly, but that doesn't necessarily inform who you are, even if it seems like it at the time." I reached toward him before realizing that there wasn't really a way to comfort him without it being strange, given our size differences. I let my hand rest awkwardly on the table instead. "It honestly seems like you're trying to do better. To be better. And what the hell else could anyone demand of you?"

He snorted. "Common human decency? I dunno."

I reached out with my hand and poked his knee with an absurdly large finger. "Yeah? And what have you been giving me for most of today?"

He sighed and let his forearm slide backward, above his head, revealing his face. His eyes were red and wet with tears that had leaked all down the sides of his face. He looked at me forlornly. I reached out again and softly rubbed the pad of my thumb along his thick upper arm. "Hey. Seriously. I forgave you, remember? You're not allowed to torture yourself as a replacement for me.

He laughed tearily at that, and hiccupped. I just smiled and brought my hand back. He rubbed both hands down his face, pressing away tears and wiping his nose. Then he looked up and said, "I didn't actually finish saying it before I started tearing into myself, so... I'm sorry. For being a bigot." I could see his eyes well up again. "I'm so sorry."

"Already forgiven," I said. "And I'm sorry..." I interjected wryly, "kind of..." and then continued, "for pushing you so hard. This could have been a smoother process, I think. With a bit more, uh... consent."

He made a non-committal face and stated, "No, this is what I needed. I'm a shit, Corey. I don't listen when people say things, expecting me to change. You were right. I'm entitled and narcissistic. I needed someone to step in and slap me back into reality. Or to... shrink me back into reality, I guess." He trailed off with a frown. "And speaking of which, what the fuck. This is literally a physical impossibility," he said, gesturing down at his body.

"Yeah..." I trailed off as well.

We both sat in silence for a minute, contemplating our places in life and the universe. I idly fiddled with the tension bead on my ring, and my now-flaccid cock plumped slightly, but I didn't try to encourage it.

"I just have no fucking clue, honestly," I finally said. "It doesn't make sense; you're right that it's an impossibility. Hell, even your voice is impossible. Shrunk down to the size you are, your vocal cords are also a twelfth of their normal size, which should mean that you'd sound like a mouse squeaking every time you talk. I shouldn't even be able to understand you."

Ian looked even more confused. "Holy shit, you're right." His hand pressed his hair back from his forehead in a show of consternation. "How the fu—you know what? Fuck it. Who cares? It is what it is. I'm sure we'll find out soon. There's no way this was just a random occurrence."

I tended to agree, and nodded my head slowly. "I mean... yeah, probly. I guess worrying about it won't do much. And it's not like there's any way for us to try to figure out how to change it, since it's clearly some sort of paranormal thing."

"That sounds so... dorky, honestly," he said with a lighthearted chuckle.

The corner of my mouth lifted in amusement. "Don't worry, this is literally the only time in my life, past present or future, that I will consider the reality of something paranormal."

"Same, honestly," Ian replied. A gap in the conversation formed, signaling to both of us that a subject change was coming, and Ian responded to it first. "So, weren't you going to show me something?" he asked as he rolled his torso back onto his side, propping his head on his hand, elbow out. He grinned at me.

I rolled my eyes good naturedly and responded, "Yeah, yeah." I started fiddling with my dick in earnest again. "Ok, so after you've gotten to the point where you can sound with a rod that's just slightly thinner than the wand—"

"Thinner? Wouldn't you want thicker so the wand goes in easy?" he interrupted.

"No, not in this case. One of the main reasons to use a prince's wand..." I trailed off briefly as I grabbed my ring, popped out the tension bead, and twisted the ring through my penis. "...is to allow you to piss somewhat normally, as a normal prince Albert pretty much requires you to either have a very wide urinal or to sit down to pee. The jewelry usually blocks the hole at first..." I trailed off again as my slow stroking succeeded, my dick stretching up into a full erection. "...but penises are super stretchy, and the weight of the jewelry eventually widens the hole, and then you're gonna have piss spraying everywhere."

Ian was listening with rapt attention, so I continued. "With a prince's wand, the tube is hollow, so if you have the right size you can actually just piss right through the wand, and nothing comes out the piercing hole because your piss enters the tube way before the piercing."

"Oooh. So, you go with a smaller sounding rod so that..?" he inquired.

"So that the tapered end of the rod isn't loose enough to allow piss around it. If piss gets pushed between the outer wall of the wand and your urethral wall, it can get pretty painful, and even cause permanent damage."

"Ah! That makes perfect sense," he said, nodding.

I had finished lubing the wand thoroughly, so I lifted it up to the tip of my dick and began working the tapered end into my dickhole. "It's quite a bit trickier to get started due to the end being flat instead of rounded," I said through partially clenched teeth, my eyes squinched shut in concentration. With a couple swirling motions, however, it popped past the initial opening. "Now, a wand you will have to push a little; it's not likely to slide in on its own like a rod. But as long as you're super gentle and go very slowly, you'll be totally fine." I pushed very gently on the ball tip and felt the wand move slowly downward. It wasn't quite as comfortable as the rod, so it didn't have quite the same effect on my arousal, but it was close.