Girls Rules of Gamesmanship

"I'm going into the other room," Roberta said, "and when I'm ready I'll knock. Carl can come in."

She left the room and in just 20 seconds knocked and opened the door. She looked in all respects like nothing had changed, but she dangled her bra to show everyone in the room that she had removed it from underneath her shirt. Her face was active with excitement as she looked from person to person. She beamed a glorious look of allure on Carl.

When Carl did enter the adjoining room, he found it was a small space where Roberta had turned off the light. He had some difficulty locating her, but she guided him in front of her. His eyes adjusted and he found that the rim of light leaking in around the door gave him just enough vision to sense his surroundings.

"You can use both hands," Roberta said quietly, a raspy shudder in her voice. She was standing so close to him, nervously anticipating the touch of Carl's hands. She pulled the bottom of her shirt away from her midriff with both hands and, trembling, said, "Here."

Carl had to force himself to touch her. He managed to land the heels of both hands on the sides of her abdomen, then moved them more to the front and let his palms and fingers play out onto her warm, smooth skin. She sighed with quiet elegance in the small space of the room, and Carl moved his hands up the soft, hot flesh off her body until he felt the undersides of her breasts break his movements. Roberta's breathing came and went audibly and without pattern.

This small act of Carl's had lifted her shirt up such that it was now pulled out of her hands, rising in front even with her breasts, under the guidance of his movements. He moved his hands up and enveloped both of her firm breasts, bringing her shirt up and over them, freeing them completely into the space between them. She began to lean, to press herself against his touch with hushed murmurs of delight. Her hard nipples felt like thick buttons sticking out from a surrounding opulence of softness, and she twisted ever so sightly so they raked obscenely into the sensitive skin of his palms.

"God, Carl," she said to him with a soft warm breath across his face, giving in to the experience. He fondled her breasts imaginatively, feeling the soft mounds of tissue, having the sense in the moment that their bodies had crashed into each other rather than formed a caring bond.

He held her breasts for fifteen seconds or so, thrilling, and in the small darkness listened to the sound of her breathing as she filled her chest and let it out with intermittent purring. He felt moved, and he had the overwhelming desire to fall to his knees out of the need to express the power of his sexual urges. He could tell that, just like him, she wanted it to continue. She began to rock herself back and forth against his hands, smushing her breasts one at a time into him.

"God damn, Carl," she said meaningfully, leaning into him, setting fire to the intensity of the experience for them both. Carl held onto her in the near dark, so close and alive and warm, and a part of him questioned whether this unthinkable intimacy was a secret that she was purposefully revealing, to show him what a woman felt like.

Carl's erection was straining against his shorts with rigid distress, shifting its angle on its own. The unremitting confines of his clothes felt both good and bad, and eventually his erect penis found its way to pointing straight up toward his abdomen. In this position it was in a natural state from which it could hardly subside, and it caused the fabric of his underwear to stretch uncomfortably taut over his testicles and left him acutely aware of the need for some kind of relief. He was grateful that all of this was happening in near darkness in a separate room.

Then there was a knock on the door, abrupt and interrupting. Carl withdrew his hands just as the door was flung open and in an instant Shantel and Cleo watched Roberta's shirt fall back down in place in front. Carl turned away a bit, but Roberta picked up her bra from the floor and bounded out of the room, ridiculously animated. Both girls knew that something had happened, and they seemed to want an explanation.

But, because he was so aroused and embarrassed, they had to coax Carl back into the room. The state of his erection-tented shorts was instantly obvious and attention-getting. He could not make up his mind whether he wanted the attention or not, but for the girls it took greater precedence in the moment than what had happened between Roberta and him.

"Geez, Carl," said Cleo suggestively, her gaze locking on his crotch. She looked back and forth between his eyes and his tented shorts for at least fifteen seconds, then said, "While you two were out there, I rolled again and got a 2. The rules say I don't have to kiss you, but I think they say I can make you take off clothes instead." She smiled wickedly ear to ear and fixed her gaze on him as he stood awkwardly ashamed, apart from the girls.

A bit of silence filled the space. Carl hung his head ever so slightly, acknowledging that he understood the rule. All three girls examined Carl's obvious state of anguish, realizing, based partly on his pink countenance, quick breathing, and his inability to look them back in the eye, that this had now become a small trial for him. Shantel was not about to let pass this opportunity to test her ability to control a boy. She determined that she was going to see how far she could take it.

"Shoes and socks. Off!" said Shantel emphatically. She pointed with one outstretched arm to the top of the bookshelf. "Over there now," she declared.

Carl decided he had no choice. He had already been moved so far in what had until now been a forbidden direction by his encounter with Roberta's body that he felt like he had crossed a threshold and that he must observe some obligation to reciprocate. He went to take a chair and Shantel moved with alacrity to cut him off, getting right in front of him. She took hold of one of his arms, stilling him, and stared hard into his face. Her eyes opened wide and beautifully and froze him in place. She let go of him and slowly poked him in the abdomen just inches away from his rigid erection, and said, "you're hard, aren't you?".

Carl stammered out, "Yes."

"Do it standing up," she said with utter complacency in her voice. "We want to watch." She smiled at both Cleo and Roberta as if to say: I'm in charge now. She smiled for Carl's benefit at his bulging crotch, then locked her eyes onto his, steadfastly sending the message that she expected him to obey. And when he looked at her, his gaze was brimming with deference. His emotional state was charged with the sexuality of the situation, causing his penis to ache and send breathtaking chemistry throughout his whole body.

He robotically pried off his shoes and socks and placed them on the bookshelf. The sensation of being barefoot, the air on a newly naked part of him, sent fresh pangs of arousal coursing through his veins. He began having true difficulty returning the looks of the girls as the power balance in the room shifted. He was deeply aware of a need to aid this rebalancing, a need to continue to please the girls, even to reveal his desire to satisfy their curiosity and desires.

"Let's keep this going," said Cleo. "It's Roberta's turn." A hint of excitement sounded in her voice.

Carl stood patiently in his spot in the room.

Roberta sat down and rolled a four.

"Good," said Shantel happily. She looked knowingly at Carl and then smiled conspiratorially at both girls who began to fidget with the knowledge that Carl was now beholden to remove another piece of clothing. Everyone in the room became sensationally aware that the male was about to become topless, leaving him in only two items of clothing, and Shantel still had her turn to take.

Shantel wanted to have input into this situation. She went over to stand with the other girls, turned her look upon Carl, glanced at his shorts with open purpose, and said, "What about it, Carl? Top off, I think. Right?" Her words were sensationally sarcastic but also musical and sweet and sounded like the very expression of delight, generating broad smiles in the girls. Their eyes roamed over his entire form as he looked back at them with self-demeaning fretting. They weren't about to back down now in their intention to make him carry through with the game.

"I think he wants to do it," Shantel said appraisingly.

"You do, don't you," said Roberta with sudden understanding. She put one arm over Cleo's shoulder and dangled her bra from the other.

Carl held his position in the room, shifting from foot to foot. He could not return the looks of any of the girls. He considered whether Roberta's question was rhetorical, or whether the whole environment that they all found themselves in now, with him the center of erotic attention and yet still playing along, was answer enough. He did want to remove his shirt. Taking off his shoes was exciting, but going down to his shorts would be better. He felt some small, fluttering beat of yearning driving him toward nakedness before the three girls.

"You can tell us if you want to," said Shantel womanly, baiting him.

That was all the encouragement he needed. He turned red and mumbled something incoherent in the direction of his feet. Shantel was about to ask him to repeat it when he pulled his shirt over his head and placed it on the bookshelf, stunning her, quieting her, filling her with glee. All three girls examined the half naked boy before them with uncertain looks of appraisal. This was the first time they had ever witnessed a boy intentionally taking off his clothes, and they fully appreciated that it was happening at their direction.

As Carl looked around the room at each of the girls, his face sentient with exhilaration, it became clearer with every shared gaze that something was driving Carl, that he wanted very much to play on. Each girl pondered the scene openly, and when Carl did manage to look into her eyes each reached their own conclusions about what was going on.

Roberta understood that Carl was moved by their own encounter and was flush with the excitement of it. She let her eyes roam over his chest and his tented shorts and returned Carl's appealing looks with intimations of her own sexuality. Cleo saw a boy who was half naked and could not stop thinking that he was probably about to get completely naked. She remarked happily to herself that he showed no inclination to leave, and she was deciding how to enjoy it. Shantel saw that Carl was self-consciously and hopelessly sexually alive, practically quivering, and she realized that she had somewhat expertly manipulated his behavior. Right in front of the girls, she had helped to cause his conflict. She saw that he was incapable of hiding his erection, that from it stemmed his struggle with the inner drive that males had, one that made men want to please her, and that here in front of her and the other girls, and at her bidding, was a male about to show the ultimate proof of it.

"Carl," said Shantel smugly, "there's only one way to go from here."

Carl understood, and he brashly looked at each girl to confirm his understanding.

"Tell me, Carl," she said sternly.

"Shantel, please," was all he could say.

"You have to tell me if you want to keep going," Shantel said. She walked over to him and took his chin in her hand. Directing him to look at her, she said peacefully, "We are enjoying ourselves. You know want we want you to do, don't you? Tell me, Carl."

"Yes. You want me to keep playing. If I follow the rules of the game, I will strip naked." His whole body flushed, a sensitive heat rising in him.

Shantel released him, turned and looked at the girls with amazement on her face. She sat down at the table and rolled the dice. It was a six.

"Carl," she said looking at him supremely, "into the other room, now." She got up and before she could take a step Carl had turned more red. He willingly went into the other room. Shantel shared smiles with the girls, whispered the word "wait," followed Carl and closed the door.

They stood together in the room for a bit and then Shantel turned the light on. It was a small attic room with odd things scattered on the floor by the walls. Shantel separated herself from Carl by several feet.

"I think you want to do this, right?" She asked him, her look stabbing into his eyes.

"I do," he said honestly. "I want to do it for you Shantel."

"Tell me," she said.

"What?"

"What do you want to do for me?"

"Whatever the rules say, right?"

"Carl," she said flippantly, "you know the rules. Males have to do what the women say, and when I roll a six, I can make you take off two pieces of clothing."

There was a moment of silence as Carl contemplated this. Its effect was to go straight through his body with wonder and agitation, disturbing every other thought, opening the door to a deep space full of obligation and lust. If only he could, he thought. His penis continued raging against the boundaries of his clothing, easily the reigning impulse of his existence.

"Take off your shorts," demanded Shantel.

Carl gave her a look of supplication. He unbuttoned and unzipped his shorts, and as he was pulling them down she said, "Don't just take them off, give them to me."

Carl stepped out of his shorts and offered them to Shantel. She took them with an outstretched arm, bunched them up in a fist, folded her arms across her chest and gazed openly down at his underwear where the outline of his penis formed in large detail. She observed this for a bit and then looked at Carl with authority in her wide smiling eyes.

Carl returned her look with pleading.

"Are you ready?" She asked.

Carl nodded.

"Do you want to?"

Carl nodded.

"Tell me you want to," Shantel said in a reprimanding tone.

"I want to..." he whispered at her, but stopped.

"Want to what?" She let her voice carry the sound of exasperation.

"Please let me be naked for you," he managed to say.

"That's better," she replied sweetly. "I'd like that. Tell me exactly what you want to do."

"I want to be completely naked for you," he said, the heat of honesty rising off of him in the small room. His world had reduced to the need to reveal himself to her.

"You can in a minute," she said. "But first I'm going to give the girls your shorts." Shantel looked at him as though he was certainly going to approve of this act. She opened the door just enough to slide her arm through holding his shorts, and said, "Here you go." Roberta's face appeared, radiating joy, then the door closed and Shantel did not have his shorts any more.

This triggered more releasing of chemistry in his body, generating a deeper well of difference to Shantel. He was amazed that she was able to so easily have him give his clothing away. The fact that he did not know how he would get them back was as thrilling as taking them off and giving them to her.

"Where were we," Shantel said, "oh, right, you want to give me your underwear, I think. Better yet, why don't you ask me if you can."

Carl had no will to stop, and responded by pleading with her to let him take off his underwear.

"I think you can take them off," Shantel said, her tone intentionally offering him hope. She had been unremitting in her scrutiny of his near naked body and of the outline of the large erect penis probing the stretched white material still on him. "I think you need to get the OK from Roberta and Cleo too."

Carl was stunned, and the thought of meeting their attention in his state of excitement subsumed his thinking. What would it be like to do it?

"I'm going to let you ask them if you can give them to me," explained Shantel frivolously. She grabbed Carl by the arm. He looked at her with unconvincing protest as she guided him to the door. She opened it and propelled him so that he was slightly in front of her into the other room.

"Carl has something he wants to ask you," she said smugly, still holding him by the arm and offering him for inspection like someone trying out for the neighborhood baseball game.

The girls let their shock register only momentarily, then their faces turned to glee as they took in the sight of Carl in his white underwear with the distinct profile of a fully erect penis absurdly visible. Carl made no effort to hide his erection, and girls made no effort to hide their delight in the scene.

Shantel then released Carl and with the same hand found the lip of his underwear right where it went around his waist. She grabbed it firmly and pulled the top of his underwear fiercely away from his body. Carl huffed and fought briefly with his hips, but the effect was to reveal details, the bulge of his testicles now apparent and the fat tube of his upward-facing erection revealed in clear outline, the bulbous head of it now fully discernible. The girls watched him squirm, flexing in his underwear, and they smiled delightedly, and gave Shantel looks of encouragement, the eyes of all three of them gloating with the knowledge that Carl would soon be completely naked before them.

Carl finally relented to her fast hold and allowed the scene to play out. Shantel had frozen his penis upright against his body, and he realized with shame and pounding obligation that he was now making a tremendous display of his erection as the fabric stretched taut over it. The girls scrutinized this as though the material were transparent, and he looked at them with steadfast embarrassment, his whole face showing how deep his sense of obligation was.

"Carl," said Shantel magnificently, releasing his underwear, "ask them. Get on your knees and ask them." She looked conspiratorially at both girls.

The chemistry pumping through Carl's body, which had inflamed his existence, engorged his penis, and subsumed his mind, drove him solemnly to his knees before the twins, his gaze fixed on the floor in front of him, his erection bouncing gently against his abdomen.

"Please let me give my underwear to Shantel," he asked softly, clearly distressed.

"Wow," said Cleo.

"Yes, wow," said Roberta.

"I take that as a yes," said Shantel.

Carl looked up to her for direction.

"Let's go back in the other room, Carl," she told him.

Carl stood up, his penis shrugging against his underwear with every movement. He let Shantel maneuver him into the adjoining room where she shut the door and stepped away from him. She brought her look directly into his, her dark, candid eyes seeming so bright and hard. Carl had to look back, though. He could not turn away from her stare, which clearly now was one of marvel. Shantel gaped at him with curiosity, at the spectacle of his suffering, looking through him and filling the space of his psyche. She understood now that Carl was intoxicated throughout with the need to be obedient, and that she had and could set it ablaze almost at will.

"Let's have the underwear, Carl," she said complacently, holding out her hand, knowing that this instruction would be followed instantly, rendering him completely over to her.

Carl put his thumbs under the top of his underwear in front, right next to his navel, and gave her a prayerful look. She wiggled her fingers at him to make him comply. He pulled his underwear out and down, lifting them over his large penis, and yanking them down to his ankles. Shantel then put one foot on them as they lay on the floor just over his feet, and said, "Step out of them Carl and pick them up."

With her standing on them, he pulled both feet out of the leg holes, knelt in a completely naked state, and reached down to retrieve them. Shantel took a second to lift her foot, watching the now naked boy kneeling before her, then she allowed him to pick up the clothing. Without being told, he placed his hands behind his back and stood back up and his raging erection presented itself to her, pointing nearly up towards the ceiling between them. It glistened, waved noticeably with his slightest movement, and even bobbed tremulously with his fast racing heart. She spent a long while fascinated by it, scrutinizing it, and alternating glances with it and his eyes.