Measurement

Size doesn’t matter.  That’s what they say.  Robert Burns said 'Nine inch will please a lady'.  Burns certainly pleased the ladies.  Nine inches?  Probably. I got out the bath and looked at mine in the mirror.  Was it nine inches?  Of course not.  Nobody had one that big. It was quite big though.

Then next day.  "How big is yours?" Monica asked me.  She was my new secretary.  Thirtyish, short black hair, blue eyes, assertive.

"My what?"

"Your… you know... How big is it?"

"My er...   What...". She didn’t mean my penis did she?  I didn’t know what to say.  No girl had ever asked me that before.  But, as I say, she was very assertive, Monica.

"Your you know...  thingy...  gentleman's appendage.  You know what I mean."

"My...  er..  what?"  Oh heck!  This was getting embarrassing.

"Well if you want me to spell it out for you...  your willy...  All men measure their willies.  How big is yours?"

"It’s...  it’s...  well it’s...  average..." I should have told her to mind her own business, but I didn’t know how to.

"How big is average?"

"I don’t know...  I’ve never... I mean I’ve never compared..."

"Well you should..."

"I wouldn’t know how..."

"Look, there's this website.  It surveys and compares penis sizes," she got it up on the screen.  Trust Monica to know about such things.  "You should take part.  Then you'll know."

"I mean I couldn’t..."

"Of course you can.  All you have to do is measure your penis and send in the result.  They compare all the cocks… I mean penises… and tell you where yours is in comparison to the others.  It gives exact instructions how to do the measurement.  Up and down.  Length and girth."

I looked in fascination.

"But everyone will exaggerate."

"They can’t.  You have to send in a photograph to prove it."

"I can’t photograph my...  well I can’t..."

"Why not.  It’s all confidential."

"But...  I mean...  photographing my own... well...  penis...". I was gabbling.

"Well I’ll photograph it for you."

"Certainly not...."

That was Monica for you. Always trying to embarrass me.  Still I couldn’t get the thought out my mind.  Was I average?  Perhaps I was bigger than average?  That night I got the website up.

It gave detailed instructions.  Length was to be measured with the penis fully erect, using a ruler placed on the top side with the end against the pubic bone.  Girth was to be measured using a tape measure just below the head of the penis.  The flaccid length was estimated by laying the penis on a flat surface and placing a ruler beside it.  The study also examined the possible relationship between the size of various body parts (index finger, nose, feet etc) which also had to be measured.  To ensure that all measurements were genuine photographs of each were to be submitted.  At the end of the month results would be published and you would be informed of your comparative size.

I had to do it.  I mean I just had to didn’t I?  I had to know.  My penis was erect just at the thought of it.  I took my clothes off, found a ruler and a tape measure, and got measuring.  Six and a half inches!  I’d soon see how I compared.  I uploaded the pictures to the confidential site.  All anonymous.  All confidential.  Results to be published on the first of the next month.  I couldn’t wait.

Come the first and I’m on my computer first thing looking in my inbox for the result.  Nothing.  I go to work disappointed.   Monica greets me smiling.

"Six and a half inches!" She says, "bigger than I expected."

"What!"

"Your cock.  It’s six and a half inches.  Congratulations!  We’ll proportioned as well."

"But...  I mean...  how..."

"It’s on the website.  Look..."

"But..."

I looked at the screen.

APRIL FOOLS

Fifty-two suckers sent in their penis pictures in the ridiculous belief they were taking part in a scientific study.  They didn’t notice the date!  April 1st!  So here they all are  - 52 penises with their measurement and each accompanied by a picture of our April Fools measuring their nose.  So if you see anybody you know you now know how big their penis is.

And there were my pictures!

"But...  But.." I gasped.

"How did you fall for that one!  Measuring your nose!  Honestly, that was a real giveaway."

"But I thought..."

"They got you there didn’t they!"

"But you said..."

"I said yes...  you remember when I told you about scams and how you could spot them a mile off!"

"Yes..."

"You said you’d never fall for one."

"But..."

"So how was I to know you’d fall for this one.

"But..."

"The girls will find it hilarious!"

"Girls!  What girls!"

"Lisa, Angela, Tracey, Marie-Louise...  the girls in the office of course."

"But...  but they don’t know about this do they?"

"Well, they will when I send them the link..."

"But you can’t..."

"Why ever not?"

"Well...  they’re private pictures..."

"No they’re not, they’re published on-line.  Look it says here 'public domain'.  You gave permission for these pictures to be posted when you ticked the terms and conditions."

"But I didn’t think...  I just ticked the box..."

"But I told you about the importance of reading terms and conditions carefully.  You did read them didn’t you?"

"Well...  er...  Yes..." I lied, "but..."

"There you are then.  Posted on-line with your permission.  Public domain.  The girls will love this.  Especially Marie-Louise..."

Marie-Louise!  Not Marie-Louise!  I’d had a crush on her every day since she joined the company.  Blonde, pretty face,  baby-doll blue eyes, pert boobs, long legs, short skirts and a different coloured pair of panties every day.  Every day except dress down Friday when she didn’t wear any.  Her idea of dressing down I suppose.  I always made sure I sat opposite one of the girls at the department meetings.  You see when girls are sitting at a table they forget to keep their legs together, and if you’re sitting opposite and you drop your pencil on the floor, when you bend down to pick it up well you can guess the view you get.  Especially on dress down Friday.  Marie-Louise never wore knickers on dress down Friday

I kept a little diary of what I saw each day.  Password protected of course.  Monica had told me about the importance of password protecting documents you didn’t want other people to read.  And I didn’t want anybody else reading that.  Not with the description of what I’d seen on dress down Friday.

"Please don’t...  I mean I don’t think they’d really want to see..."

"Oh yes they would..."

"But..  I mean..."

"All right then...  beg..."

"What!"

"Get down on your hands and knees, kiss my feet and say pretty please..."  she kicked her shoes off.

"Pretty please.  Pretty please," I was on all fours kissing her bare feet.

"That’s a good boy.  Suck my toes."

I sucked.

"Right.  No pictures for the girls, but you have to do me a favour."

I

"Yes anything."

"Anything?"

"Yes..."

"Good.  Well you know my drawing class..."

"Um er...  no...". I didn't.

"Well I run a drawing class and I need a male life model and you’ve just got the job."

"But...  when you say 'life', do you mean...  well...  no clothes on..."

"Of course.  What else do I mean.  We're doing the male nude."

"But...  no clothes at all..."

"Completely nude...  of course..."

"But you’ll see my...  well my..."

"I can see it now.  It’s up on the screen here.  Of course if you’d rather I sent it..."

"No no... I’ll do it...  I’ll do it..."

"Of course you will.  Tonight, my house, eight o'clock.  Be there...  and you can stop sucking now."

I sat at home looking at the picture of my penis measurement.  How had I been so stupid.  I wouldn’t get caught like that again.  I’d tried to get a peek at Marie-Louise's panties at the meeting, but she had her legs together.  Almost as if someone had warned her.  Still I’d just about got away things, Monica had seen my penis picture, and I was going to have to endure the embarrassment of posing nude for her art class.  But at least I’d got away with it.  I looked back at the penis picture.  It had attracted over a hundred views.  A lot more than any of these others.  The comments weren’t too encouraging though.

Half an hour later, my heart pounding, I knocked at Monica’s door.  She opened it.  She was wearing a white blouse and tight black jeans, looking rather sexy.

"Come in," she said, "everything is ready.  The girls will be here shortly."

"Girls!"

"Yes, of course."

"But I thought it would be men.  I’ve got to pose naked for girls!"

"Well of course, why would men want to see you naked?"

"But you didn’t say..."

"You didn’t ask, I’ve told you the importance of always asking.  It’s not my fault if you didn’t.  Come on this way."

She led me into her sitting room.  In the centre of the room was a small coffee table.  Arranged round the table were five chairs.

"There you are," Monica explained, "Take your clothes off and stand on the table.  The girls will be here in a few minutes."

"But..."

"Unless you want me to..." she went over to her computer, "the link's ready to send...  one favour for another..."

"No, no...  I’ll do it...  yes...  one favour for another..."

"Hurry up then..."

"Yes Monica, Yes..." her finger hovered over the send button.  I tore my clothes off as fast as I could and stood there shivering in the nude.

"There’s a good boy.  I knew you could do it.  Now stand on the table.  The girls all want a good view."

"Yes Monica," I stood on the table, just as the doorbell rang.

"That’ll be the girls.  I'll let them in.  Now don’t you move."

"Yes Monica.  I mean no Monica. I mean I’ll stand here Monica."

"Good boy.  Now you do as you’re told."

"Yes Monica."

She picked up my clothes and went out the room with them.  I stood on the table, my legs shook, my mouth was dry and my face burned with embarrassment.  Still, it would soon be over.  The sound of girls laughing came from the front door.  My face went redder than ever.

The door into the room opened, "Here are the girls," grinned Monica and in trooped Lisa, Angela, Tracey and Marie-Louise.

"But..." I stammered clamping my hands over my private parts and standing knock kneed and red faced in the classic embarrassment nude position, "you said your life drawing class."

"This is my life drawing class.  Don’t tell me you didn’t know!  Haven’t I always told you to make sure you know the details of any agreement before you agree to it?"

"Yes Monica."

"Serves you right.  Hands on your head.  The girls want to see everything."

"Yes Monica."

"Good boy.  Now give a little twirl, so they all get a good view."

"Yes Monica," The girls were sitting in a circle round me as I turned round to give them all a view.

"Good boy.  Now you stand there while I read the indictment."

"The what?"

"The indictment.  You see this isn’t so much a drawing class as a trial."

"A what?"

"A trial.  You see I found a little document on your computer."

"A document..." she couldn't have.  Not that document.  It was password protected.

"Yes a rather private document.  You know what I’ve told you about confidential documents?"

"Yes Monica.  Keep them password protected."

"Exactly, well if you wanted to keep that private you shouldn’t have given it the name 'upskirts' and used 'knickers' as the password."

"No Monica..." naked and humiliated, I was completely under her thumb now, "No Monica."

"So shall I read the indictment?"

"Yes Monica."

"Since November 13th of last year you have been secretly peeking up the skirts of the girls in this department and keeping a record of the panties they were wearing, or in the case of some girls, not wearing.  How do you plead?"

"Guilty Monica."

"Good boy.  Now let’s hear some of the evidence.  Marie-Louise, read out the entry for Friday 3rd March."

"Do I have to Monica?"

"Yes you do."

"Well, it says...  it says...  'Dress down Friday!!!" it has a sort of series of exclamation marks after it..."

"I'm sure it does...  go on..."

"It says 'Told M-L to sit opposite'...  I think he means me..."

"I’m sure he does."

"...'Told M-L to sit opposite.  Dropped pencil on floor as excuse and crawled under table.  Short skirt, legs apart, good view!  She want wearing any!  Panties I mean!  I could see her...  her'...  please Monica he uses a rude word here..."

"Does it begin with a 'c'..."

"Yes Monica..." Marie-Louise was blushing.

"Has it got four letters?"

"Yes Monica..." she blushed even more furiously.

"In that case I think we all know what he saw.  Go on."

"Yes Monica... "...saw her er...  rude word... it was..." Marie-Louise gulped, "... it was shaved smooth.  I switched on the light on my mobile phone and had a superb view.  Took quick picture...". Marie-Louise's face was burning, "...he took a picture Monica!"

"He did indeed.  It’s in the document.  Go on..."

"Yes Monica.  He says '...looking at picture now.  Good old M-L...'. Er..."

"Go on..."

"Er...  'good old M-L obviously deliberately spreading her legs for me.  Blushed and smiled when I got back in my seat.  Gets my...  my... er..."

"Go on..."

"...'gets my cock' he says 'cock' Monica."

"I’m sure he does..."

"...'get my cock up just looking at it.'  That’s all Monica."

"Well," said Monica, "What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I...I... dropped my pencil..."

"Like you do every meeting!"

"I couldn’t help seeing up.  She opened her legs to give me a good view..."

"No I didn’t."

"Yes you did... and... and...  I had to use my phone as a light to look for my pencil... and I accidentally took a photograph..."

"And I suppose you accidentally loaded onto your computer, and you accidentally looked at it, and your pants accidentally fell down, and you accidentally grabbed hold of your cock..."

Something like that..." I muttered.  

"Hands on head!  You’re showing the girls everything remember!"

"Yes Monica," I was trembling with embarrassment.

"Well girls.  I think that is pretty convincing evidence.  It only remains to decide his punishment.  I say we string him up by the balls.  Lisa?"

"String him up and kick him in the balls."

"Angela?"

"String him up, kick him in the balls, and whip his arse..."

"Tracey?"

"String him up, kick him in the balls, whip his arse, tie him to the saddle of his silly bicycle and pull him round the streets."

"Marie-Louise?"

"I fancy wanking his cock."

"Marie-Louise!"

"Just saying..."

"Well," announced Monica, "much as we'd all love to kick him in the balls, leash him to his bicycle and whip his arse round the town, that’s probably going a bit too far....".  I just stood open mouthed!  Marie-Louise wanted to suck my cock!  "...better not kick him in the balls.  But as for the bicycle...  have you got the leash Angela?"

I had been so taken aback by Marie-Louise that I never noticed that a piece of string had been looked round my private parts.  I felt a sharp tug.  I was being pulled towards the door.

"No Monica...  please...."

It was no good.  

"Do you know why men were given balls?  Why they are so tender, so vulnerable, why they dangle so invitingly?"

"No Monica...  please..."

"To give girls something to control them by..." she tugged again, “...ball control I call it!"  She yanked hard, "Effective isn’t it?"

"Yes Monica," I followed her meekly outside as she tied the string to the saddle of the bike.

"Get whipping Lisa!"  Lisa whipped a bundle of birch twigs across my buttocks and we set off.

She pedalled slowly, thankfully, and I stumbled along behind my bottom feeling the sting of the birch every few yards.  So my arse was whipped round the town, well not quite, but certainly round the block....  and through the park...  and up and down the High Street.  It got a few cheers.  Apparently it was festival week and people thought it was a performance art production.  It got even more cheers when Marie-Louise exacted her own particular punishment.  Quite a crowd had gathered by then and it got a standing ovation.  Especially when she was looking too closely and got hit in the face.

I don’t drop my pencil on the floor anymore.  The girls have rumbled that one.  I drop my notebook instead.  Much more convincing.  Marie-Louise still doesn’t wear knickers on dress down Friday.