Author's Note

This fic was my submission to the anti-censorship art pack
Marenheit 451

I thought I could do some good by posting my fic here to drive more attention to the pack, which might not be well known about on this site.

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Evaluating her specimen

My heart was racing faster than the pistons of an F1 engine as Aryanne began opening the door to her apartment. It was still hard for me to process what was actually happening, and what could potentially still happen. I was thanking God for the liquid courage in my belly that was quelling my fear that I would fumble something up or make a fool of myself.

“Come in, come in.” Aryanne smiled kindly, pulling me into her place properly as I’d been dithering in the doorway, waiting on my lady’s permission.

It was a small apartment, only two rooms. The larger was the dining, kitchen, living room all in one, with only a very small kitchen counter separating the meager kitchen from a small table and a modest couch.

Immediately I was struck by how orderly everything in the apartment was. A small vase of flowers, trimmed and watered neatly. A set of kitchen knives hanging on the wall behind her stovetop, ordered by rank and size, perfectly aligned to square angles. Every surface sparkling clean.

Girls really did keep their places cleaner, it seemed.

My eyes were drawn from the neatly kept kitchen to a large banner dominating the wall in front of her computer desk from which she no doubt had her way with the Soviet Union many times as Fuhrer of the Third Hearts of Iron Reich. featured a black bird atop a symbol I recognized as the German Iron Cross medal decorated with many small crowns on each corner. The cross itself was emblazed with the motto, ‘Gott mit uns 1870’, a reference to the formation of the Second Reich under Otto von Bismarck.

Gott mit uns… I knew that motto very well and it brought back many chilling memories of the horrors of World War Two and the army that had taken this slogan, originally coined by a Swede seeking to reform Christianity in Europe, to justify wholesale slaughter in the name of racial supremacy.

But I didn’t have much time to mull over Aryanne’s motives for hanging the banner there and could at least appreciate the fact she hadn’t gone the completely stereotypical route of hanging a giant swastika to her wall. Maybe she just enjoyed the iconography…

Yeah, that was bullshit but I had no time to dwell on it. Aryanne had not relinquished control of my hand and continued pulling me along.

“Come, come!” She grinned, “Here, into my room.”

Holy shit, this is happening.

We weren’t going to sit on the couch and chat. We were actually doing this.

“Uh, Aryanne… I don’t know how to tell you this.” I began to mumble, regretting the words even as they spilled out of my mouth, wishing I could bite my tongue to shut myself up. But I had to let her know, right? I couldn’t just hope that somehow I would squeak by and have my awkwardness completely exposed. “B-but… I’ve never done this before.”

Aryanne paused, then flashed me the sweetest smile of our acquaintance to date. “Aaron, of course, you haven’t. Even I have not done zis yet either, in zis world.”

That’s a relief, I mused to myself. Though it was almost unbelievable, a beautiful girl like that?

“Now, don’t vorry.” She patted her immaculately made bed with a hand clearly directing me where to sit, before finally releasing mine and turning to a nearby closet and beginning to poke around inside it. “Ve vill take things slow.”

I sat down and let out a nervously held breath. Slow was good. Slow was safe.

Then my eyes traced back over Aryanne as she was bent over, rooting through the back of her closet in her dirndl. The way her tight dress hugged the corners of her pert, athletic buttocks made my pulse begin to quicken again. Of course, I’d stolen glances at her backside before, but now, with it right in my face like this — knowing what was about to come...

I was getting a bit excited. Especially excited. My pants were beginning to feel quite tight, in other words. I shifted myself slightly, letting the ‘expanding’ parts of my body escape down one side of my pant leg.

I never would have thought the sight of a clothed female butt could actually give me the hardest erection of my entire life.

“Ah, here it iz. Right vere I left it!” Aryanne turned around with a smile, holding up what looked like some strange glass and gold flask, with a strange syrupy looking purple liquid inside. Her eyes switched from the flask to me, and her smile turned to a frown.

“Vhy are you still dressed? If you don’t remove your clothes zey vill be torn!” She harumphed, putting her hands on her hips.

“W-what?” I nearly choked. I guess Aryanne had a different definition of ‘taking it slow’.

“Come on! Come on!” She urged. “Ze authorities could notice I haff taken you at any moment!”

The authorities? The hell was she raving about? But I didn’t have much of an opportunity to puzzle over what that meant, as Aryanne clunked the flask onto her bedside table and reached over to my pants.

I’d never had a girl grab at my crotch before and certainly not with this much insistence. Her slender fingers hooked into the waistband of my jeans, jerking downward with frustration to try to tear off my bottoms.

“So many layers of useless things in this world,” She muttered to herself, her fingers fumbling and struggling with my belt buckle and fly.

My mind singularly on the task at hand, I’d let her strange remark pass without notice. “I… I got it.” I offered hurriedly, standing up to quickly unbuckle myself and unzip my fly. “J-just hang on a…”

There was no hanging on. Aryanne’s fingers quickly hooked into the waistband of both my underpants and my jeans. With a solid tug downward she jerked them down to around my knees.

‘Little Aaron’ had made his appearance into the world.

Alright, maybe not so little.

If there was one thing that I didn’t have any anxiety about, it was my size. Not that I’d measured or anything but… I totally did measure and my ruler had a number of tick marks just past the nine-inch mark.

If anything, I was worried that it might be a bit too intimidating. My kishka was as round, firm, and fully-packed as it was long.

My chest puffed up a little bit as I saw Aryanne’s expression tilt and her head shift back slightly in surprise. It had obviously not been what she was expecting. Well, at least I could be satisfied that even if its performance didn’t impress her, at least its appearance would give her a bit of a —

“Zey really are quite smaller over here, aren’t zey?”

Crushed.

Absolutely devastated.

Aryanne was looking at my junk like a girl looks at a cute, defenseless puppy. A tiny, pitiful thing you’d talk to like an infant child.

Just where did she come from? I was like, three standard deviations above the average size! And yes I know I’m a nerd for caring about dick statistics.

“Even ze testicles are like little chicken’s eggs!” She giggled, slipping her hand under my junk, and cupping my sack. “Zo cute!”

All demeaning and accidentally emasculating discussion of my pride was forgiven at the warm touch of her hands to my balls.

A girl is touching me! Holy shit!

She took hold with a firm squeeze, almost like a farmhand evaluating livestock, rolling my coinpurse around in her palm as she inspected. Impossibly, I found myself being turned on even more at the idea of being evaluated like cattle!

“Yes, both are zere and fully descended. Gut!” She gave me a pat then slid her delicate slender fingers upwards. Their cold, soft tips felt almost alien sliding across the burning, smooth heat of my throbbing shaft.

As they reached the end of my length, they circled the underside of my glans, the sharpness of Aryanne’s fingernails tracing a delicate circle around the underside of my head, making the whole of my masculine pride jump and twitch in involuntary sensory overload.

“Yes, shaped like a mushroom, just like ze research said. Interesting.” Aryanne’s gentle giggle accompanied her glowing eyes as they shifted focus from the organ in her hands back to my face. I felt a light tug downwards on the shaft of my skin and watched as that smile suddenly fell. Her fingers began to dig into the shaft skin beneath my head more insistently, pressing and pulling, as if searching for something.

“Vat’s ‘zis? You are missing somethink!” Aryanne’s face looked disappointed, almost panicked. “Mein study of ze human anatomy said males haff a covering, a flap, even ven ze male is fully erect!”

I could only meet Aryanne’s suspicious and deepening scowl with a look of sheer incomprehension. In my defense, it was a little hard for my brain to function at the same time I was receiving the weirdest, and first, handjob of my life. I was trying to keep up with the joy of being touched, and trying to suppress the feeling that I was being inspected like cattle. What Aryanne said next didn’t help to dispel the latter notion.

“Aaron. Ver you born viss a genetic deformity? You must tell me, I do not vant you to fail ze inspection.”

Inspection? I thought this was sex?

“Uh… no?” The words bumbled out of my lips.

“Zen vhere is your foreskin?” Aryanne huffed, her frown deepening.

“Uh, I’m cut.” Seeing her lack of comprehension, I continued. “Circumcised? The foreskin is uh, trimmed off at birth.”

“Not a deformity, zen!” Aryanne’s face brightened, the worry falling from her face. “But vhy ze cutting? I haff not heard of zis practice?”

“I guess I’ve heard it’s less common overseas than it is in the States. Honestly, I get it, I think it’s a little barbaric to take such an important part of a boy’s body away from them when they're still a baby… but for me, it’s a cultural thing… I’m Jewish.”

“J-Jewish?”

Oh boy. Here we go. I mentally slapped myself for letting the secret drop. If Aryanne really was a Nazi, I’d be lucky to escape her apartment with my clothes, dodging blows and shrieks… I could wave good-bye to any chance at punching my v-card.

“Vat iz… Jewish?”

Huh, well… guess she’s NOT a Nazi then, just a really big wehraboo.

“Pretty surprised that you’ve not heard of them… it’s a religion. Suffice it to say one of our practices is circumcision.” At this I let my hands guide hers back to the spot on my shaft where the scar could still faintly be made out. Let me just say here that it took all of my mental fortitude not to issue a squeal of delight at the fact I was holding a girl’s hands against my dick. “Which is why I don’t have my foreskin, not because of any deformity.”

I smiled, enjoying the moment of intimacy, my hands covering hers as they rubbed my cock.

“Gut!” Aryanne’s hands quickly pulled off of my cock as she turned away from me, her ‘inspection’ obviously completed.

I frowned, my dick suddenly feeling quite lonely.

“You haff passed ze inspection, Aaron. A prime candidate for ze trial.” Aryanne swung the flask into my hand.

I’d already had something to drink that night and I wasn’t feeling particularly thirsty, particularly given the increasing suspicious circumstances surrounding the Allemagne aficionado. “What? What do I do with th-”

“Drink.” Her voice barked the imperious command, her tone clearly indicating that it would brook no resistance.

I swirled the syrupy thick fluid in the flask, clearly aware that it had come out of the back of her closet, and not from a fridge or a wine rack. It smelled awful too.

“Aryanne, seriously, what is this?” I peered down at it, my eyes almost sure that they had seen the liquid within leap and froth in a physically impossible way for a moment.

“Aaron, zis will make you better, strongker, an übermensch, ze pony you vere meant to be.”

So it’s some kind of sexual stamina thing, then? Well heck, who doesn’t want the stamina of a horse! Hmm... My mind retraced some of the horror stories I’ve heard of gas-station ‘enhancers’ and cheap medicine ordered over the internet from China. Oftentimes these things were laced with amphetamines and cut with dangerous other chemicals.

Or it could just be one of those ‘all-natural’ ones, a harmless placebo with irrelevant natural ingredients that did little.

My eyes glanced from the troubling brew back to the hopeful, gleaming eyes of the clean-cut girl standing before me. She was definitely not the type who would allow for illegal drugs. It had to be the latter.

It might have been one of the stupider things I was about to do, but if it gave me even a shot at sex.

Bottom’s up!

The potion tasted as bad as it smelled. I had to fight back the urge to gag as the gross liquid bubbled down my throat, coating my insides as it went. I could tell from the way Aryanne was nodding and motioning with her hands that no mere sip was going to suffice — I had to down the whole thing.

Somehow, I managed. Sex sure was one hell of a motivator. I did my best to place the flask on the nightstand, suppressing the bubbling belch in my gut that I was sure could quickly turn into a full rejection by my body of the vile brew. I was pretty sure that projectile vomiting on Aryanne’s bed would be a turn-off for her — she didn’t seem like a girl into that sort of fetish or any fetish outside of maybe getting a dominatrix.

I noticed Aryanne looking at me expectantly, not moving, a small shake of excited energy vibrating through her limbs. An awkward moment passed, with her saying nothing, just watching naked old me as I sat on her bed, awkward boner in hand.

“Uh… so… what now?” I bumbled out. I knew I was a novice at sex, but I was pretty sure there was something more to it than just staring at each other.

“Now ve vait for ze potion to take effect, ve haff never actually used it on a human, so ze time it takes to activate eez not known.”

“What?” My mind blanked, a bit of panic in my own chest starting to rise. “You made the potion?” Aryanne didn’t strike me as a chemistry major, and I was very suddenly wondering if I should be googling the poison control hotline.

“Oh no no no, I did not make eet!” She giggled.

Phew. She wasn't crazy!

“Franziska, ze head of our research division, did. She assures me ze fatality rate vould be very low.”

Fuck.