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This is a question The thing I've been most ashamed of doing with a penis

Confess. Female b3tans may need to improvise.

(, Thu 12 Mar 2009, 12:13)
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A Cautionary tale
Once again.. there's no shame here, but if my life of experimental self-gratification can act as a "what not to do with your cock" example to others, then I'm glad to be of service.


I never realised that the 'cock rings' that I regularly saw in magazines (as a teenager) were adjustable so that they could be released.
You learn these things by experimenting -
Or as you could say - the hard way.

I was a Teenage lad (shortly after the blissful discovery of the "orgasm") and as you do, I slipped a napkin ring around my todger. You just gotta find out how it feels.... right?

Mid session, the surrogate napkin suddenly became too big for its ring... Being the smart lad I was, I reasoned "It'll go down if I get turned off".. so, 10 minutes of mentally picturing my grandmother naked should do the trick... but No! I was in fact increasing in size.

I was HORRIFIED: I obviously harboured disturbing subconscious thoughts for my Gran. Subsequently I took no pleasure in the sudden and painful understanding of the bio-mechanics behind my now monsterous and painful hardon: so long as the napkin ring stayed... so would this monstrosity..

You know how a love-bite/hicky causes surface capillaries to burst and make your skin go a blotchy red/purple? well... my Dick was VERY much like that... ALL OVER.

I was terrified, and in my moment of need turned to my trusty Minicraft Drill... Two cutting disks later, the pewter napkin ring was only HALF off!!

Cutting disks cause HEAT. Pewter is a fairly soft metal, so it doesn't actually cut well.
HEAT. did I mention that? HEAT!!! Heat in a metal ring, Painfully tight around my best friend.


so... Water. More water. cut. Water. CUT. JEEEEZ.

You know something has gone seriously wrong on the road to self-gratification when you're naked, on your knees with cock in one hand, electric cutting tool in the other, and wearing goggles.

So... cutting bit by bit I manage to make decent cut, gently working it until I had wafer thin cut-line... progress, sweet progress. And then it happened. The disk snagged and bit in.

As if the cutting disk shattering and forcing wafer-thin shards of metal into my tadger wasn't enough, I then panicked and used pliers to rip the rest of the napkin ring open.

Pinching skin between plier and inside of ring, and THEN badly cutting myself with the sharp edges.

Compounding my misery, pain and horror, my MUM came up to see why I was "making toys" at 2:00am on a school night.


LMAO. let's just say "ribbed for her pleasure"


As some of you know, I'm into piercing. Rest assured that watching a tattooed bloke grasp your manhood and shove a 3.2mm needle clean through it is a walk in the park.... Well, it is if compared to watching blood gush from your shaft as you use oily pliers to tease out shards of pewter napkin ring and crushed lumps of ceramic cutting disk.


Apologies for bumps, and blatant re-post.
(, Thu 12 Mar 2009, 15:00, 5 replies)
Deoderant stings like buggery.
As does after shave.
(, Thu 12 Mar 2009, 14:55, 3 replies)
A good idea at the time
A house I was cleaning for money + owners out + a vacuum cleaner + bored me = owww.

There again, with the number of times on or the other parental unit interrupted me I've pretty much lost any sense of shame regarding the little fella and people seeing it/walking in on me etc.
(, Thu 12 Mar 2009, 14:53, Reply)
A(nother) Cautionary tale
Though un-ahsamed of this, Others might benefit from the knowledge.


Wanking when young was an act of desperation... It was to fulfil a need. Wanking in later years became more of an art-form... finding novel ways to achieve the ultimate goal became my vocation - and if you can imagine it - I've probably tried it.

You've probably read about my horrifying disaster with a napkin ring, when - though a series of errors and ignorance around the working of the erectile properties of the one-eyed trouser-gopher - I ended up on my knees, engorged and metal-clad cock in one hand and Dremel in the other... This one however falls below that in terms of horrifying moments... but none-the-less represents what must be one of man's more horrific blunders in the name of self gratification.

The phrase to describe man's needs "Warm, tight and wet" is, in honesty a bit bland, but as a teenager in love with ejaculation, my goal was to replicate those conditions, and Fuck it. A typical week's R&D would go like this...

Hot Sponge.
This proved to be too "cleaning" and I cleaned a lot of skin off my bellend. Ouch.

Hot Sponge Mod 1.
With Soap!! (see, I wasn't stupid). Cleans skin off bellend, and STINGS MORE. BUGGER.

Hot Sponge with "Shammy" leather liner.
Smooooth and yummy. With added Body lotion... Better! SUCCESS!!! (but leaves weird streaks on the car)

Most teenagers are infamous for spending suspiciously long in the bathroom... I possibly had them trumped by being the only lad who'd take half the garage with him.

What I though would be the culmination of my work would the the only logical extension of the "shagging an orange" theory. Oranges are acidic, they have sharp pips and they are SMALL. We needed something less acidic and larger. MELONS!!!

The only thing that a melon naturally lacked was warmth.

My parents were out, I used to live in the country, and we had just got a microwave. Excellent. Not one to master the power settings, I plumped for "turbo". I nuked the melon in 30 second bursts, waiting until the outside felt good and warm. 5 minutes later we were ready to pork.

I retired upstairs with a hole-saw and a drill, and proceeded to remove a neat 52mm diameter slice of potentially sharp and hard skin.. This was going to be sublime... then, using the handle of a wooden spoon, I poked a "pilot" hole into the soft melon-flesh.... it was easy....

I experimentally nudged my teenage boy-hood in though the hole in the skin, and the first inch of soft, warm and forgiving melon-flesh lovingly gave way......

~~~~~~~~ Wavy lines ~~~~~~~~

We'll take a little break here so I can tell you that later on I learned that the hardish parabolic skin of a melon concentrates the microwaves into the centre of the fruit. This - put simply - means that if the outside of the melon was warm, then the sugar-rich and watery centre was going to be literally boiling.... but - you just have to learn the hard way sometimes. *sigh*

~~~~~~~ Wavy lines ~~~~~~~

..... satisfied that I'd found the perfect scabbard for my throbbing friend, I thrust home to the hilt.

It actually sizzled.

And I walked funny for a month.
(, Thu 12 Mar 2009, 14:48, 3 replies)
What's your favourite term for one?
Mine's "Spam Javelin".
(, Thu 12 Mar 2009, 14:47, 22 replies)
Not so much what I've done with it...
...more of what has happened to it (and I'm amazed it still works). And this is mostly down to the past 4 and a half years with the ex.

She has managed to...
Crush it.
Try to hump it dry.
Bite it.
Bruise it.
Stamp on it.
Punch it.
Knee it.
Twist it.
Make it bleed.
Roundhouse kick it.
Spill hot drinks on it.
Hit it with a mug.
Scratch it.
Take a chunk out of it a couple of times while wearing rings/bangles.

Although, these are just some of the bad things she did to it, she did do more enjoyable things to it over the years which more than outweighed the bad things.

Also, things I have done to it I'm a little (not totally) ashamed of...

Took photos of it and sent them to the ex lass via MMS while she was in France (nearly a fucking pound a pic, man).
Wanked it off using a Cadbury's Mini Egg tube (I was about 12).
Burned it on a radiator. (I was closing the window naked, oops).
Accidently flashed it to my ex's father.
Accidently waved it at a neighbour.

Fortunately, my penis has now been unharmed for just under a month now (since she dumped me), but I am out tonight, and hopefully some nice young lady will want to please it!

Any offers?

Length? Come and find out!
(, Thu 12 Mar 2009, 14:46, Reply)
a "my mate" story (but this time it;s true)
The stage: Reading Festival, the year just after bluetooth phones had been introduced.

The scene. Bunch of us wandering blindly round the tents blasted out of our heads.

The penis. My mate has a look for bluetooth devices on his phone and discovers 37 of them. Wow! What can we do about that? In a flash of brilliance he undoes his belt and sticks his phone down the front of his pants, takes a photo of his todger and sends it off on it;s merry way via bluetooth. We crouch down (drop to the floor giggling and holding onto each other for support) and listen for the response.

"Oh wow! I got a bluetooth!" someone close to us cries. "Let me see" cries his friend. "Ewww!" "WTF!" and other sounds of disgust are suddenly heard, success! Then we hear a girls voice pipe up "But it's so small"

We almost died from laughing that night.

37 bluetooth devices.....
(, Thu 12 Mar 2009, 14:46, Reply)
Writing my name
in the snow.
(, Thu 12 Mar 2009, 14:45, Reply)
Is it just me
Or is anyone just counting down to when Hitlercock makes an appearance in this week's question?
(, Thu 12 Mar 2009, 14:43, 1 reply)
Not really answering the question, but when I was very, very young I once told my mother and all the people she was with at the time "When I think about mermaids my willy feels funny".
(, Thu 12 Mar 2009, 14:40, Reply)
Everything, and I mean everything in the world is generally because of penises. (Well duh)

Started a war? You were probably male and wanted to impress a girl.

Started a religion? Again, likely male, and not getting enough. OR, wanted to stop other males from doing it so you could do their ladies when the other men were dead/not looking/in rapture.

Held a door open for a lady? You were trying to put your penis inside her. There is a little part of you (your penis mainly) that says, when youre holding a door open for a lady - "Hmm.. maybe she'll notice that I'm opening this door very well, and allow me to fuck her later. I know I'm married, but I would have an affair, for a while. If she was fit and she didnt tell my wife."

Killed someone? Either over money/valuable items (therefore making you less attractive to females and less likely to be able to fuck them) or over women themselves(wouldnt let you fuck them, they fucked someone else). Women kill men for other reasons - but mainly cos they stuck their penises in other women.

Raped someone. Obvious really. Requires a penis. Generally considered shameful by both parties.

Thats about it really.
(, Thu 12 Mar 2009, 14:32, 8 replies)
For all of the Pythons out there...
I think we all know the origin of this song...

Here's a little number I tossed off earlier in the Caribbean..

Isn't it awfully nice to have a penis?
Isn't it frightfully good to have a dong?
It's swell to have a stiffy.
It's divine to own a dick.
From the tiniest little tadger,
To the world's biggest prick.
So, three cheers for your Willy or John Thomas.
Hooray for your one-eyed trouser snake.
Your piece of pork, your wife's best friend,
Your Percy, or your cock.
You can wrap it up in ribbons,
You can slip it in your sock.
But don't take it out in public,
Or they will stick you in the dock.
And you won't come back.

Mmmmm, thank you very much.
(, Thu 12 Mar 2009, 14:31, 7 replies)
Absolutely nothing
Seen as I don't have one, like half of your reading / contributing public who you've managed to exclude.
This is the first time ever I've complained about a QOTW but this really is unfair and crap this time. Lady b3tan's let's unite and suggest stories about our periods.

(, Thu 12 Mar 2009, 14:29, 29 replies)
Having an eleven am wank at work,
over the Sunday Sport. I had dried paint on my hands, the stuff with iron in it.
I got a horrible rash, and had to explain to the then gf what happened. She wasn't amused.
(, Thu 12 Mar 2009, 14:24, Reply)
Fire Engine
Picture the scene.

My grandads hundred-and-twentith birthday (well, he was fucking old) in his big old house in Coventry.

I'm five or six. Dressed in my best cloths. Sitting in a corner bored shitless while the adults do adult stuff, not fucking, just talking and being dull.

My cousin, Paula starts slapping me about. She's a bit older than me. She prods me in the back and then runs off giggling. Then she comes back and does it again. And again. Then, to add insult to injury, the adults start fawning over Paula because she can play the fucking recorder. For fucks sake! They put her in the middle of the room and listen while she plays Greensleeves - over and over and over again.

I am not a happy bunny - its usually my job to be centre of attention.

I manage to get out the room, no ones paying any attention to me anyway. Fuck it. I'm off.

I manage to open the back door and wander into the garden. Its like the Great Escape - I'm Steve McQueen and all my relatives are Germans, and Paula's the camp-fucking-commandant. I look back over my shoulder through the big floor-to-ceiling French windows. All the adults are still fawning over my evil fucking cousin, the cunt.

My young brain hit upon an excellent idea to win the adulation I deserved. This is gonna be FUCKING AWSOME!!!


Didn't go down too well.


My mum and dad were fucking livid. We even had to leave early so they could send me to bed with no dinner. I remember my mum saying: "I'm so sorry," to everyone there. Even fucking Paula!

Apparently stripping off your trousers and pants, running up to the French windows, banging on them whilst squealing "whoop whoop I'm a fire engine!", while similtaniously squeezing out a jet of hot piss so it thunders against the glass and splashes back on your legs, goes down like the proverbial



And I remember thinking while I was doing it: Everyone's gonna be so proud...
(, Thu 12 Mar 2009, 14:20, 9 replies)
here's one that springs to mind
in the first year I was married to the missus in our shitty shared london flat, after a party we were engaged in some horizontal folk dancing up in our bedroom. Now I sensed she was a bit dry, something that can happen after a day on the booze, so I decided to do the gentlemanly thing and apply some lube a flatmate had left behind and I was saving on the off-chance of a backdoor pass. In a boozy state myself, I didnt want to risk losing my Yasser (araFAT) so I quickly fumbled in the drawer for the tube, gave a quick application then plunged back in. Now to be honest this was the first time I've used proper lube, primping for alternatives like baby oil or Pantene Conditioner when the need arose (in the words of Zappa: keep it greasy so it goes down easy).But shortly I thought to myself, "This can't be right" as a burning sensation crept over my cock. We both ground to a halt and I switched on the light. Reading the label, I'd managed to lather a liberal portion of 'Deep Heat' muscle reliever over my bed flute, and the missus had also copped a fiery serve to her funbox. That was the end of it, but strangely enough despite the pain I stayed hard as flint till it wore off.
(, Thu 12 Mar 2009, 14:20, 5 replies)
As you may have noticed from my stories, I've held a lot of strange jobs over the years. I've been a groom on a racetrack, I've been a house painter, I've been a waiter, I've been a cook, I've run rides in an amusement park... there are all kinds of jobs you do when you lack a college degree and need to pay the rent.

One of them was the time I worked in a pickle factory.

Much of the process is automated, of course- they wouldn't want contamination from people if they can avoid it. So there's a lot of complicated machinery to sort out the pickles by size and process them and put them into the jars and so forth.

Over time I got bored, of course... and one day it occurred to me to wonder what it would feel like to put my penis in the pickle slicer.

This was, of course, a very foolish and dangerous thing to do, and I knew it. But still, once the thought hit me I couldn't erase it from my mind. It stayed with me, haunting me until the day I finally had to do it.

I came home early that day. My roommate was waiting tables at that point, so he happened to be home when I arrived. "What are you doing here? Why aren't you at work?"

"I got fired." I hung up my coat and got a beer. "I knew I shouldn't do it, but I stuck my cock in the pickle slicer."

"Are you nuts? Did you turn the pickle slicer on? What happened?"

"Yeah, I turned the pickle slicer on. Unfortunately they fired her too."

...I'll get my coat...
(, Thu 12 Mar 2009, 14:14, 3 replies)
The obvious answer....
.....as a card-carrying member of Dykes'r'us is allowing one to enter my lady bits during my yoof.

On a more story-friendly note, I was once caught giving a boy a blowjob round the back of our secondary school, which caused much shame and ridicule for the rest of my school life, and is still one of my more embarrassing moments. Insult to injury an all that, the teacher who caught us was his uncle. :/
(, Thu 12 Mar 2009, 14:08, Reply)
My Ex
had one of those Greek style wedding rings (the type with 3 interwoven bands that move around each other).

Anyhow, one night she was giving me a bit of a hand-shandy, when all of a sudden I felt the most searing pain coming from down below.

The ring had caught my skin in it and with the hand movement, proceeded to rip an inch and a half of skin off of my skin-flute.

It fucking well hurt and bled for a few hours.

I still have the scar =(
(, Thu 12 Mar 2009, 14:05, 2 replies)
Usingg it to tyyype rhis
(, Thu 12 Mar 2009, 13:58, 10 replies)
I'm not a chubby chaser by any means
but I'm proud to have put mine in a couple of the nicest, sweetest, most intelligent girls I know, who happen to be pretty fucking overweight.

I must admit I've been completely off my face both times, but that didn't stop us both enjoying ourselves.

The shame? When your mates find out something like that, you get the right royal shit ripped out of you. So I put up with a hell of a lot of ribbing for those two mountainous conquests.

Would you have taken the piss?
(, Thu 12 Mar 2009, 13:51, 13 replies)
Hamsters, Gerbils and gratuitous nudity
I’d started dating ex-Mrs PJM during the long, hot and languid summer of 1997 and spent most of that summer in the sack like the over-sexed newly-coupleds we were.

After another bout of horizontal sumo wrestling, I found my post coital drowsiness was shaken by the racket emanating from the three large cages on the other side of the room, the rodent occupants of which conspired to deprive me of sex-sleep by gnawing at the bars and drumming their feet.

Having exhausted my supply of ammunition to throw at the little twats, I got up from the bed and approached the top cage to explain to the little fuckers that one more nibble would mean immediate postage to a Mr R Gere, Hollywood Boulevard.

However, it was nothing but a ruse. They’d co-operated and planned a trap from the very start.

While my attention was directed at remonstrating with gerbils, the notoriously vicious hamster in the lower cage had decided to seize the moment.

“Argh! You furry little CUNT!”

The evil little fucker had reached out through the bars and grabbed my swinging John Thomas before plunging his razor sharp teeth right into my defenceless bell end.

Having to explain the origin of the resulting scar has been a source of controversy ever since.
(, Thu 12 Mar 2009, 13:50, 8 replies)
Need I remind you alll of wanking Wednesday?

Any of you involved should be ashamed and you should all be fired, you filthy beasts!
(, Thu 12 Mar 2009, 13:44, 2 replies)
I swear,
I was sending...um...pictures...of...um...it's glory...to an ex. (she wasn't an ex at the time, I hasten to add. I'm don't stalk my exes. Well, not all of them, there aren't enough hours in the day to follow around all the women I've fucked up relationships with).

But to take the picture to send, I had gone to my offices toilets and taken a look at some pictures that she had previously sent me. Until I was, you know, 'ready'.

Then I snapped away, got a couple of shots that showed me, shall we say, in a flattering light and sent one.

My phone was fairly slow to send pictures, so I went back to my desk and put it down next to me, waiting until I heard the tell tale buzz that my penis was flying in 1’s and 0’s through the ether for my waiting beloveds depraved pleasure.

Then I promptly forgot it and went to get coffee.

I came back to my desk and my boss was hovering waiting to talk to me, so we are chatting away and then I noticed his eyes start to drift down to my desktop.

I followed his gaze and as clear as day, there is my phone. There is my erect penis and, worst of all, so there was no getting away from where the picture had been taken, there was, in the background, the distinctive red and white tiles that adorned the cubicles in the staff toilets.

The pause was excruciating, the conversation swiftly wrapped up and my boss and I never had a non awkward conversation again.
(, Thu 12 Mar 2009, 13:41, 2 replies)
It's not big and it's not clever

My mate T, was once out on a bit of a bender.

At the ned of the night he thought he would purchase a healthy and nutritious kebab and as he arrived at the kebab van there were a couple of local lasses waiting for their order.

T thought it would be funny to waggle his willy at them.

"Wheeyyy, woooo" he proudly sang.

To which they coldly replied, "So that's what a micro-penis looks like." before disappearing into the night.

You would think that T would have learnt his lesson instead he always makes sure he has a semi before flashing girls now.
(, Thu 12 Mar 2009, 13:39, 2 replies)
The worst thing I've done with my penis is...
us it as ID in an off - licence
(, Thu 12 Mar 2009, 13:38, 4 replies)
I have to admit
That I have never done anything with my penis that I have been ashamed of!
(, Thu 12 Mar 2009, 13:32, 1 reply)
Turned it black.
Being a girl, I don't have a penis..

But once I sucked my boyfriends little fella so hard it turned black all over. I'm imagine from busting the blood vessels or something.

Edit: Also, I'm just guessing, but I think he may have been just a bit proud of it. He told everybody he saw of it. And if he didn't tell them, he showed them the picture on his phone. I don't know why.

Crazy Moley Foley.

At least now he can say he's had a black dick, if nothing else.

So really, I did him a favour.
(, Thu 12 Mar 2009, 13:32, 12 replies)
Or there was that time...
I photographed my own member and put it on Facebook....

Only I'd tagged the picture as being that of one of the lads at the party who had been annoying me.

Obviously, everyone is now laughing at him for having a less than impressive pork sword - and no one will ever guess it's my tool because, lets be honest... 'Who on earth would put a picture of their own cock on Facebook?'

I've taken the picture off now, but my point was made (and he still thinks it might be him).

I'm going back to the pub in a minute.

(, Thu 12 Mar 2009, 13:26, 1 reply)

This question is now closed.

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