An Inventive Boy - Chapter Three
Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction which features sexual activity of a pre-teen and teenage boy. If you do not want to read such a story, or it is illegal for you to do so because of your age or where you live, I'd recommend that you bail out right here.
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Chapter Three - Insert Here
Just like lots of boys in the days of my feckless youth, I loved to build plastic models. Airplanes, cars, ships, monsters... I did them all. I'd work on them for hours until, for some reason I'd hit a snag. There would be a wing that wouldn't stay on or a windshield that refused to fit. I'd get all frustrated until my dad would come in and tell me to take a break and let it rest until morning. I thought he was so wise, because when I'd work on the same model the next day, everything seemed to go right into place. It wasn't until years later that I figured out my diminished ability was caused by the orange and white tube of Testor's glue I was using in my unventilated bedroom. By the third hour I would be high as a kite. No wonder I loved model building.
Of course by the time I'd hit my early teenaged years, my favorite hobby was exploring how to increase the intensity of my self-pleasuring adventures. I'd already invented the electric "Jak-Buddy-65" and explored the non-fatal outer-bounds of penile electro-stim using a surplus WWII military field telephone generator. Still, I craved more. I can't recall my inspiration, (there was no internet to explore the more kinky masturbatory fetishes). I suppose the eventual merging of my hobbies of model building and masturbating came from my own horny, perverted teenage mind. I didn't always have a messing-around buddy to play with, (especially when my friends started chasing girlfriends), so I had to get creative. The day came when I had a scathingly brilliant idea. The means to pull it off had literally been in my hands for a long time.
The parts of my plastic model kits were all molded together and connected by a frame work called "sprue." You'd look for the number of the part you needed, cut it off the sprue, sand off the rough edges and glue it onto the model. When you'd finished the build, you'd discard the leftover lattice-work of plastic sprue pieces. There would be leftover rounded bits a few inches long and about an eighth inch in diameter, (or half the thickness of a pencil, give or take). I looked at my leftover pieces of sprue and had a bright idea. I wondered about experimenting with the sprue and using it on my frequently erect penis. I'd noticed when my buddy Jon would tongue my pee hole like a kitty lapping up a saucer of milk, the sensation was intensely pleasurable. What if I were to sand and polish a few inch length of sprue from my model '66 Thunderbird kit, round out the tip, then insert that thing deep inside my pee hole? How would THAT feel? The prospect gave me an instant erection, and spectacularly firm at that. I found out many years later that my intended urethra penetration was called "sounding," but of course at the time, I thought I'd invented it. I went to work.
First, I used my cutters to snip off a section of while plastic sprue about six inches long. (I was adventuresome, but not stupid. I wanted to leave enough protruding from my boner so I could easily retrieve it). I pulled out a brand-new piece of ultra-fine grit sandpaper and commenced to smoothing all the rough edges and ridges from the sprue. I spun both ends of the sprue into the sandpaper to round them out. It took some time to get that thing silky smooth, and I tested it by running it over my tongue, reasoning that if it felt comfy on my tongue, it should be just fine sliding inside my boner. It took several tongue trials and more sanding, but I finally found that I could suck on it and it felt perfectly comfortable when I'd slip it in and out of my mouth. After all, you had to have careful quality control with these things. After I'd polished and sanded and polished some more, I decided it was time to make sure everything was sanitary. I took my highly-polished new penile probe into the bathroom and thoroughly washed it with soap and warm water. While in there, I had a thought. I checked the medicine cabinet and yup, there it was... the little jar of goopy, slippery Vaseline! I took some and smeared it on the tip and shaft of my new boner probe, then took a dollop on my finger and headed back to my bedroom.
I rummaged around in my dresser junk drawer and found my little "Vue" magazine, turned the pages to my favorite naked lady, pulled my shorts and underpants down around my ankles and sat at my desk. My dick was steely hard in anticipation of a new experience. (It was so trusting). I transferred the glop of Vaseline from my finger to the tip of my penis and pushed some into my pee hole. It was time.
I held up my stiff pride and joy and looked down at it. I very carefully inserted the tip of the probe just inside my pee hole and slowly twisted it, working the Vaseline inside my penis. The sensation of just a half inch of the probe moving slowly inside my urethra was superb! My boy boner was rock-hard and throbbing in time with my heartbeat. While holding the probe just inside my dick, I slowly stroked the shaft, up 'n down... up 'n down. I wasn't even looking at tit-lady in my Vue magazine. This was epic! I very carefully inserted more of the probe inside my stiffy and oh MAN was it intense! I had to be careful at this point, because my erection has always had a slight upward curve. My urethra must have conformed to the penetrating probe, because there was only pleasure as it slid easily inside. I gently stroked my shaft some more and it still felt amazing. I heard the familiar ringing in my ears that signaled I was doing it just right. I kept sliding the probe inside my dick as far as I felt I safely could push it. It made my entire body twitch and lurch as it went in, but it didn't hurt. It felt AMAZING. The probe was now entirely inside my boner except for about an inch that stuck out of my pee hole. I had a firm grip on it, moving it in and out a bit while I gently stroked my cock around it. I felt impaled and totally pleasured. It didn't take long for me to stoke past the point of no-return, and I was hardly jerking it. I tried to keep it on the edge, but my body had other ideas. The climax came suddenly and with sledgehammer intensity. I had some of the strongest pleasure-clenches ever. I let go of my boy-dick probe and it shot out of my boner and landed on my desk with a "plink," followed by thick ropes of teenaged jit that squirted out a foot or more before landing on my desk. I had pulled it off! (Literally).
Over the next few days I was careful to watch for signs that I'd caused any problems while rooting around inside my penis with my new probe. There were no issues. I could simply wipe it off and stash it in my pencil box in my drawer and nobody would be the wiser. Each time before I masturbated with my probe, I'd carefully wash it and smear fresh lube on it, and I was lucky to never have an issue. It would've been a tough thing to explain in the emergency room, so that was fortunate.
After a time, my favorite method to play with my new creation was to gently insert it inside my stiff peen, then begin slowly masturbating. My body would respond in the natural way and the precum would begin to flow. Inside my urethra, the probe would float on the secretions and slip in and out quite easily. I found that it felt he best when I'd use a fingertip to fuck it in and out of my pee hole while masturbating with my other hand. I only needed to push it inside and the stroking of my dick would push the probe back out, lubricated with my copious flow of precum. This technique would inspire Version 2.0 of my dick probe. A good inventor always strives for improvement, yes?
I was working on a P-51 airplane model at the time, and I picked out a new section of sprue from that kit. This time, I left a bit of the framework junction perpendicular from the shaft at one end, and trimmed both ends of that to about three quarters of an inch. This left me with a "T" shaped probe, about 4 inches long with an inch and a half T section at one end. This way, I'd be able to tap the probe inside my erect penis with my finger and the "T" end would prevent it from disappearing inside my urethra while I vigorously masturbated. Meticulous sanding and polishing yielded a truly elegant silver-gray instrument, custom designed to fit my male anatomy perfectly and most satisfyingly. The first time I tried out V 2.0 on myself, it worked like a dream. I could tap it down inside with my finger until the "T" end met my pee hole, then jerk myself and watch it slip most of the way back out, then tap it in again. I'd repeat the process until my young loins would clench down tightly and provide me with incredibly satisfying climaxes. The yields of precum and ejaculations of teen boy semen were always abundant with my latest boner probe. I retired V 1.0 after that, and used my modified model exclusively to impale my dick and masturbate around it from that day on.
For years, I thought that I'd invented it, just like it seemed that we'd invented the boy-sex stuff I was doing with my boner-budds. Decades later, I learned that sticking long objects inside the cock was as old as the hills. I thought I'd been ground-breaking but I was stunned when I saw photos of some of the huge, gnarly-looking sounding rods that guys are able to insert deep into their urethras. Could it be that they all started as horny, adventuresome, masturbating teenaged boys like I did? Did they enhance their male pleasure with objects they crafted from plastic cast-offs of a model airplane kit? The world may never know.