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The Amazing Adventures Of Penis Boy

His name is Penis Loomis and he hates having it as much as most
people hate hearing it--his name that is--but that didn’t stop his rotten,
nasty parents from saddling him with a moniker that led to the inevitable
teasings, traumatizings and, on occasion, beatings, all because his
christian name was an affront to Christianity being, after all, the name of
a body part of the sexual persuasion. For a while he tried to shorten his
name to a less offensive “Peenie” but with his parents insisting on using
his full name, which was also listed as such on all public records, there
was not much chance of escaping his fate. It was the kind of name, which
once they were aware of it, a lot of people did not want to let go of it.

What reason his parents may have had to tag the baby Penis with
this beastly label is lost in the dim reaches of some perverse family
history, no doubt; in any case Penis’s pathologically anti-social parents
weren’t talking. By the age of eighteen, Penis had gone limp under the
unrelenting burden imposed by his infamous handle and decided to have his
name legally changed. Little did Penis know that his visit to the offices
of Hiram and Screwum, Attorneys at Law, would change the course of his life.
“Penis, m’boy you’ve got it all wrong,” said Jedidiah Screwum.
“That name of yours is neither a cross to bear nor a stone to roll uphill.
In fact, that name can make you go down in history, allow you to lead a
life of unimaginable pleasure, and perhaps even be your road to riches.”
“Whaddya mean?” asked Penis.
“What I mean is that you must see the glass as half full, not half
empty. Under certain conditions in our society, the associations inherent
in your name could be an advantage. It’s all a matter of presentation.
“How’s that?”
“My dear boy,” surely you realize that the penis is symbolic of
malehood itself. The phallus has represented vigor and vitality in art and
literature throughout the ages.”
“Yeah, but how does that help my problem?” asked Penis.
“Use the imagery of your name in a positive way to gain friends
and influence people.”
“How do I do that?”
“Well, for example, what’s the first thing a woman says when she
meets you.”
“That’s easy. She says: is your name really Penis?”
“And I suggest that you respond as follows: yes, it is, and I
didn’t get that name for nothing.” Screwum, pausing to push his glasses
down the length of his long nose, eyed Penis over the glasses’ rims. “This
response should be delivered in a well modulated voice with low, basal
tones and accompanied by a knowing wink of the eye,” said Screwum
concluding his advice.
“But how will this help me?” asked Penis.
“Aha!” Screwum exclaimed. That is the question and the answer is:
power. Everyone needs a power base from which to operate. In our society,
sex equals control and control equals power. By asserting your right to be
a Penis you are empowering yourself, extending your authority. This, my
boy, has been the historical thrust behind all great societies, by all
great men, notwithstanding today’s revisionist trend to emasculate the male
creative force. Thy savior shall be woman,” said Screwum concluding with a
Penis sat mesmerized, eyes opened wide, mouth slack and tongue
lolling as visions of a new existence danced in his head. “Yes, yes! I see
it now. How could I have been so blind? Oh, Mr. Screwum, I can’t thank you
enough! You just talked yourself out of a fee. The name stays.”
“Excellent, Penis. Good decision,” said Screwum.
“Y’know how everyone says what sleazebags and crooks lawyers are,
well, you’re the exception to the rule Mr. Screwum.
“Yes, well, of course, we’re not all that bad. I just like helping
people. Now, if you would just sign this release form before you leave,”
said Screwum, sliding a piece of paper under Penis’s nose.
“What’s this for?”
“Oh, a routine form that says I have rendered you sound legal
advice. Just for the record, you see.”
After Penis signed the form and exited the office, Screwum pushed
the intercom button on his telephone. “Ms. Quimby, I’ve just obtained
another release form. Please bring in the manuscript file. I have another
chapter to dictate.”
“I’ll be right in Mr. Screwum.” Sounded the nasal response.
After Ms. Quimby’s shapely form was seated in the chair in front of
his desk, Screwum opened the green pentaflex folder and then the manila
folder inside. He glanced at the title page of the manuscript. It read:
“OK Ms. Quimby, let’s begin dictation: Of all the weird stories
that walked into my office, this one takes the cake. It’s about a guy named
Penis and I thought his case should be brought to a head--
“I’m sorry to interrupt, Mr. Screwum, but is his name really
Penis?” asked the wide eyed Ms. Quimby.
“Yes, and he didn’t get that name for nothing,” said Screwum
leaning forward onto the desk, resting his weight on his left forearm,
winking with one eye while raising the opposite eyebrow, and cupping a hand
around the side of his open mouth as if telling a silent secret.
Ms. Quimby’s mouth formed a puckered little “O” and her eyes rolled
slightly upward in concentration. Slowly, a little smile formed at the
corners of her mouth and she squirmed from side to side in the chair while
giving a few quick two handed tugs at the hem of her short skirt. Crossing
her legs and squeezing them together rather tightly, Ms. Quimby said,
“Oooh, I see. Do you think he’ll be coming back...for more advice I mean?”
Seeing his secretary’s reaction to the conversation, Screwum smiled
in the awareness that this chapter would probably nail down best seller
status for his book.
“Indeed, I’m sure he will be back several times and each time I
will listen to his progress until I have enough material to publish my
book. After that, I will be out of the office if he calls.”
“Very well, Mr. Screwum, whatever you say.”

So it was that Penis seized on his newfound power and became the
word’s most prolific lover, surpassing the conquests of Don Juan, Casanova,
and all the other Lotharios who were now consigned subordinate niches in
the annals of romantic legend. Yes, Penis took women by the hundreds to his
bed-- but only once each; for it was the power in his name rather than the
reality of his smaller namesake that stirred in these women passionate
hopes of finding the one male in the world with the supreme endowment, the
ultimate appendage which might ride them to new heights of ecstasy. Alas,
however, size was not the reason for which Penis was named in the dim
reaches of some perverse family history. That reason still remains a mystery.
Initially, the brevity of his conquests and a few mumbled
expressions of disappointment had a somewhat wilting effect on Penis,
however--under the continual coaching of Jedidiah Screwum--Penis concluded
that quantity was an adequate trade off for quality. He therefore continued
to parlay the charisma of his name, though deep within him sparked a faint
hope that some day one woman would love him for himself and not for the
images his name conjured in her mind.

There is a place, in another galaxy, one hundred light years away
from the office of Jeididiah Screwum, and in that galaxy and there is a
sun star named on earth, Alastor. Orbiting that star is the second planet
called Marune and on Marune exists a remarkable species of beings whose
name, rendered in approximation of their own tongue, is the Tsulu
Na’garrth, which translated means “those outside the universe”, for indeed,
the Tsulu Na’garrth viewed themselves as the experimenters of the cosmos
and the entire universe was considered their laboratory. Passing a few
light years from earth, the instruments on the Tsulu galactic science
explorer craft D’ernath picked up the presence of carbon based life forms
on a planet orbiting third from it’s sun. Using such monitors and sensors
to gather information as were available on one of the more modestly
equipped explorers, the Tsulu were struck at the teeming fecundity of the
most advanced of the planet’s primitive lifeforms. The Tsulu were not
prolific breeders, a circumstance causing growing concern amongst a race
that, in all other aspects, viewed themselves as immortal.
DerN’aani, second science officer of the D’ernath caused its eye
tentacles to rotate around the room and gaze at the assemblage of officers.
“Please begin your report Second Science officer,” sounded the
resonance of TreK’aash, First Scientist.
DerN’anni breathed air into the hollow chambers that occupied the
approximate center of the oblong bulb that would be its head. Now exhaling
through a fishy looking orifice, it used its cavity muscles to shape its
words. “The most noteworthy fact of our investigation so far is that the
bi-pedal, motor erect species that calls itself human is differentiated
into distinct, physically complementary units called ‘male’ and ‘female’.
Procreation is achieved by a temporary joining of these respective units.”
At this, a series of rheumy, exhaling rumbles was heard. After all,
this was difficult news for a hermaphroditic, sexless and self-fertilizing
race such as the Tsulu to absorb.
“You mean to say that conception is an external process with these
beings?” sounded a resonance behind DerN’aani. Without moving its body
DerN’aani rotated its eye tentacles up and around its head to see
ErD’agaash, a junior officer.
“Yes and no,” it sounded. There are preliminary mechanical
functions which are performed externally between the male and female but
conception and gestation appear to be completed internally in the female
“What are these external mechanics?” sounded TreK’aash.
“There are specialized organs in the male and female for
procreation. The female organ is called a ‘vagina’ and the male organ a
‘penis’. We believe the penis is an external organ and the vagina appears
to be an internal cavity. Through an interchange of motion producing
friction and heat, the penis is induced to produce a fluid that somehow
leads to new being within nine earth months.”
As the images of this process flickered through the minds of the
Tsulu, many rumbled and gagging resonances sounded, many eye tentacles
rolled circuitously and many spino-cranial plates flapped open and shut
like folding hand held fans. It was fascinating--albeit disgusting--news to
“First we must isolate one sex from the other to make independent
observations of the mechanics of the procreative process. Which do you
recommend first, Second Officer?” sounded TreK’aash.
“The male. They are less intelligent than the female and more prone
to manipulation,” sounded DerN’aani.
“So be it,” sounded TreK’aash. “Find the male with the most
prominent penis to facilitate the experiments."
“We have done so First Scientist. We scanned earth computer
records. Unfortunately, few records of penis size are kept, except in one
exceptional case. We have located a penis listed at five feet ten inches in
earth measurement. Quite extraordinary in that the penis is equal to the
entire body mass. We therefore deduce that the entire male body mass is a
mobile sex organ. That this specimen is the only listed penis must indicate
it is exceptionally large. The name attached to the penis is Loomis,
according to the records. We have made preparations to obtain the specimen
for examination and testing.”
“Then do so quickly,” resonated the First Scientist.

Penis awoke in a haze. The last thing he remembered was investigating a
noise in his back yard late at night, then a flash of bluish light. Now as
his vision was clearing, a jolt passed through him. This had to be a joke.
Someone must have put me in a movie studio with these costumed guys and
spaceship looking room, he thought. C’mon, grayish-green people with bulb
shaped heads, eyeballs dangling out of antennae, puckered fish mouths and
gliding around with no visible legs--no way!
“The penis is finally stirring from its torpor,” sounded one
science officer. “Perhaps our efforts at stimulation are working.”
At that moment, TreK’aash, First Sciencist, entered the chamber.
“First Scientist, it is good you are here,” resonated DerN’aani.
The penis is supposed to ejaculate a fluid after friction is applied, but
so far no success.”
“Try again, Second Science Officer,” resonated TreK’aash.
Two flat rectangles, spongy in texture and about the size of bed
pillows, were placed on either side of Penis’s head. At a signal from
DerN’aani, the metal rods holding the rectangles began to slide the sponges
up and down the side of Penis’s abused dome.
After thirty minutes of this, DerN’aani resonated to the First
Scientist, “You see. No fluid. The penis merely emits strange noises and
sheds tufts of the peculiar filaments covering the penis head.”
“I believe I see the error of the experiment,” resonated TreK’aash.
“Did you not say the penis must be inserted into the vagina which is a
“That is so,” resonated DerN’aani.
“Then any form of friction generally applied may not suffice.
Perhaps an artificial vagina may more accurately simulate the specific form
of friction needed.”
“Brilliant, First Scientist,” resonated DerN’aani. We shall proceed
to construct the artifice based on our best knowledge.”

Some hours later, strapped flat on his back, Penis was floated into
another chamber to a narrow, plastic like table. He was positioned in the
center of the room and a thick metal rod, retractably telescoped like a
collapsible car antenna, was attached to the base of the table near his
feet. There he lay like a hamburger on an oversized spatula. Penis bent his
neck backwards over the table to look at the opposite wall. There, staring
him in the face, was a huge vertical groove resembling a giant clam oozing
glistening liquid. Suddenly, Penis felt a jerk like a high speed elevator
rocketing up to a penthouse as the spatula proceeded to plunge him in and
out of the gooey slit with a piston like motion.
All the Tsulu heard were a series of high pitched staccato squawks
each time Penis was sucked out of the vagina accompanied by a series of
glrrrks and gluuups each time he was inserted. After an hour of this the
Tsulu gave up.
“What were those noises it was making?” resonated TreK’aash.
“I don’t know, but I have one idea left,” resonated DerN’aani.
Perhaps the penis needs nourishment to perform correctly. We can try to
approximate some form of earth’s biological fuel and feed it.”
“Do so,” resonated TreK’aash.
Some time later Penis--resting from his losing confrontation with
the giant oyster--had his mouth pried open and a goopy white paste was
shoved down his throat.
“Gaaak!!!” Penis yelped and he barfed up the alien oatmeal.
“Success! Success, First Scientist. It has ejaculated!” resonated
TreK’aash indicated his pleasure by making a series of hollow
popping sounds with his puckery little fish mouth. “Scientists, gather
round,” he resonated. “We have succeeded and we have learned. We now know
that the way to a penis is through its stomach.
“Aaaah,” resonated the collective assembly.
“Now dump this trash and let us be off.” So commanded TreK’aash,
First Scienist of the Tsulu Na’garrth

Thus it was that Penis was plopped out the rear chute of the
explorer onto a pile of cow chips in a farm yard. He went home, cleaned up,
and marched down to the offices of Hiram and Screwum with flames in his
eyes--and with a little residual goop, too. Ms. Quimby informed him that
Jedidiah Screwum had taken a long sabbatical to Nepal but, she added, she
would be more than happy to personally provide any services for him
instead. Penis told her no, he didn’t do that any more. His center of
gravity had now shifted from his penis to his heart. His life had yielded
shallow, unfulfilling relationships leaving a trail of disappointment,
culminating in a screwing of cosmic proportions. He had been living an
imitation of life and at the center of the grand illusion was the
penis--but no more! He marched out of Screwum’s office to do what he
should have done years ago...change his name to Richard.
Now began the earnest transformation of his life and, unencumbered
with the burdens of his past, he met a woman who loved him for his true
self and thereafter he lived his life in bliss.
What’s in a name? The bards have asked throughout the ages.
Richard knows: after all, why go through life as a Penis when you can be a

End of Story

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