A month after I split up with my last girlfriend, Dana, I developed this awful rash around my nuts for some reason. I didn’t think it was an STI as I hadn’t had sex since I broke up with Dana, only jerked off.

The Doctor assured me it looked more like an allergic reaction, so he prescribed some cream. Initially, it worked well, but the rash kept coming back, and eventually the cream stopped working.

The rash became annoying.

It would burn and itch like hell, so I’d scratch vigorously, making it red, raw, and painful. Not only my cock, but my balls, groin, and taint. I’d have long baths for relief, but even this seemed to stop working. The Doctor swabbed it and took blood tests, but nothing ever showed what caused it and why it only affected my genitals and groin.

After several weeks of suffering, my eighteen-year-old sister Lydia said she saw some cream at the local herb shop and bought some home for me. Naturally, I initially felt skeptical, but I decided I had nothing to lose, so I tried it.

The tube read “Herbal R-cream,” which, to be honest, meant nothing to me. So, I dabbed some on my fingers and rubbed it over my cock and balls. Oh my god, the relief was almost instant, and the rash disappeared in an hour. It made my genitals tingle pleasantly for quite a while, a surprise.

I thanked my sister Lydia profusely, who didn’t seem to care much, but what do you expect, as she’s a brat? A precocious teen girl who thinks the world revolves around her. I’m sure you know the type. I admit I enjoy putting her in her place as often as possible because Mom lets her get away with everything.

The only problem was that once the R-cream wore off, the rash and the horrible burning itch returned with a vengeance. So, over the next month, I used the R-cream constantly and had to admit I probably caked it on too much, but it felt so good and kept the itch away.

My fingers dug in hard, scratching at the inflamed skin on my taint and up along my shaft, desperate to ease the torment. The rash had flared up again, red and angry, spreading from my nuts to the base of my dick, every scrape sending jolts of pain that somehow mixed with a twisted relief.

I groaned, leaning against the sink, my breath ragged as I clawed harder. The skin peeled slightly under my nails, turning raw and hypersensitive, but stopping felt impossible. That’s when the door creaked open without a knock—Lydia, of course, barging in like she owned the place. My eighteen-year-old sister stood there in her tight tank top and shorts, arms crossed, that signature smirk curling her lips as she watched me.

“God, you’re pathetic,” she said, her voice dripping with that bratty indifference she wielded like a weapon. “Scratching your junk like a monkey in heat. Does it even help, or are you just making it worse?”

Heat flooded my face, but I didn’t stop, my hand still working furiously over my balls, the itch demanding more. “Fuck off, Lydia,” I muttered through gritted teeth, though part of me thrilled at her watching, at the way her eyes lingered a second too long on my exposed groin.

She’d seen me like this before, ever since she brought home that herbal cream, but tonight felt different—more charged, like the air between us crackled.

She didn’t leave. Instead, she stepped closer, grabbing the tube of R-cream from the counter where I’d left it. “Here, idiot. If you’re gonna suffer, at least use this right.”

Her tone was teasing, almost mocking, but there was a glint in her eye, something curious beneath the indifference. I snatched it from her, squeezing a thick dollop onto my fingers, the earthy scent filling the room as I smeared it over my dick and balls. The cool gel hit the raw spots, and almost instantly, the burning faded, replaced by a deep, tingling warmth that spread through my groin like liquid fire—in the best way.

“Oh shit,” I breathed, my body sagging against the wall as the relief washed over me. My dick twitched under the slick layer, the tingle turning into a pleasant hum that made my skin buzz. It wasn’t just soothing; it felt good, too good, stirring something low in my gut. Lydia’s smirk widened, her gaze fixed on my hand as I rubbed it in, coating every inch from my shaft to my taint.

“Looks like it’s working,” she said, leaning against the doorframe, her voice softer now, laced with that precocious edge. “You cake it on like it’s your new best friend. Bet you can’t go a day without it anymore.”

I shot her a glare, but my mind was elsewhere, lost in the sensation. The cream sank in, easing the itch completely, but leaving my genitals alive with that insistent tingle, like they were waking up, hungry for more. Scratching had left them so sensitive that even the air brushing against my skin felt electric.

Part of me hated how obsessed I’d become—reapplying it multiple times a day, sometimes just for the rush—but admitting that to her? No way. Still, her teasing words hung in the air, poking at the frustration I’d bottled up for weeks.

“It’s better than your stupid baths,” I countered, wiping my hand on a towel, though the tingling lingered, making my dick half-hard despite myself. “And yeah, maybe I do need it. Happy?”

She shrugged, but didn’t look away, her eyes tracing the red marks fading under the cream. “Whatever. Just don’t come crying to me when it wears off again. Though… it does look kinda intense down there.”

Her words were casual, but the way she said them, with that subtle push, made my pulse quicken. I wondered if she knew how the cream affected me beyond the rash—if she sensed the way it blurred the line between relief and something dirtier.

The tingle built slowly, a warm pulse that had me shifting uncomfortably, craving another layer already. Lydia’s presence amplified it, her bratty indifference cracking just enough to reveal the tease underneath. I wanted to snap at her, put her in her place like I usually did, but tonight, with my body still humming from the application, all I could think about was how the itch might return—and what she’d say when I had to beg for more cream.

*****
The first time I learned something awry was after my first rugby game of the year.
The itch hit me like a freight train right after the rugby game, my balls and dick throbbing with that familiar fire as I stumbled into the locker room showers. Sweat from the field still clung to my skin, mixing with the raw patches around my groin, making everything sting worse. I’d pushed through the match, ignoring the burn, but now, alone in the steamy air, I couldn’t hold back.

Everything started feeling off in ways I couldn’t shake. The match had been a brutal slog on that muddy pitch, rain turning the field into a slick mess. We got filthy—mud caked on our jerseys, legs, and faces—but that was nothing new for the team. I stripped out of my gear in the locker room, the air thick with the smell of sweat and wet grass, and headed to the showers, eager to rinse off the grime.

The warm water hit my skin like a balm at first, streaming down my chest and over my groin. But as I soaped up, glancing down, I noticed the stares. Not at my face or my build—I’m a fit nineteen-year-old, broad-shouldered from training—but lower, at my dick. The guys on the team, all straight as arrows, never gawked like this in the showers. It was the kind of looking that could spark a fight, black eyes, and bruised egos. My heart thudded, a knot of unease twisting in my gut. What the hell were they seeing?

I stared down at myself, water pounding my shoulders. Everything looked… off. My dick usually hangs at 3 inches soft. It’s six inches hard, enough to get the job done. But today it seemed shorter, almost shriveled, like it had pulled back into itself. The rash was there too, faint red patches around my balls and taint from the constant itching earlier in the day, but the stares felt more about the size. Panic flickered through me, mixing with the steam rising around us.

My best mate Tony sidled up, his face flushed under the spray, eyes darting away like he was embarrassed to even be near me. He leaned in close, water dripping from his hair, and whispered, “Dude, what the fuck has happened to you?”

“What’re you talking about?” I asked, my voice low, surprised, and defensive. The water made my skin prickle, but not from heat—from the way his words landed.

He blushed deeper, glancing down again before looking away. “Your junk looks smaller. Like it’s shrunk or something.” He muttered it quick, then backed off through the mist, leaving me standing there, soap forgotten in my hand.

Shrunk?

The word echoed in my head, a sick twist in my stomach. Tony wouldn’t say that unless he meant it, and the way he couldn’t meet my eyes? That wasn’t joking around. I felt exposed, vulnerable in a way that had nothing to do with being naked. My mind raced— was it the cream? I’d been slathering it on thick for weeks, chasing that relief, but this?

 

How to Buy Digital Downloads with Bitcoin

Follow these easy steps to purchase and access your download.

• Click “Awaiting Payment From You…” A payment window will open with a QR code and a Bitcoin address.
• Open your Bitcoin wallet or app.
• Send the payment. You can pay in one of two ways:
  1. Option A — Scan the QR Code (easiest). In your wallet app, tap Send, then tap Scan QR Code, and scan the code on the screen.
  2. Option B — Copy and Paste: Copy the Bitcoin address shown and paste it into your wallet’s “Send” field. Make sure the amount exactly matches what is shown on the screen.
• Confirm the transaction: Send the payment from your wallet. You may need to wait a few minutes while the Bitcoin network confirms your transaction.
• Get your download: Once payment is confirmed, the page will automatically update and give you a Download link. Click the link to save your file.