Boys Go Bare

Boys Go Bare 5

By Red Rover

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This work is intended for ADULTS ONLY. It may contain depictions of sexual activity involving minors. If you are not of a legal age in your locality to view such material or if such material does not appeal to you, do not read further, and do not save this story.
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          BOYS GO BARE

            By Red Rover

CHARACTERS

Jane Hastings (36), mother of Michael (16)

Marjory Carson (37), mother of Dana (15), Linda (12) and Roger (9)

Carly Morgan (15), friend of Dana

Bonnie Clark (14), Friend of Dana

Mark (43) and Sarah Daniels (41) Children, Tiffany (17), David (15) and Brandy (13)

Janna Gretzky (44) mother of Alyssa (19) and Naomi (17)

Brenda Sawyer (20) and Mona Harris (19) – Summer house-sitters for the Daniels.

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Part 5

When we all lined up, there were eight boys on one side and nine girls on the other. The girls sat down in height order on the chairs and we boys were matched with them. I was paired with a tall girl who smiled at me and said, “My name is Cheryl, I’m thirteen. What’s your name?”

Blushing at standing next to her with my semi-erect penis a few inches from her face, “I managed to stammer out: “My name is Mike and I am sixteen. I am on Puericil, which is why I am so small for my age.”

She smiled again. I saw she was very cute, despite being taller than I was. “I hope we can be friends, Mike. You look very handsome.”

I blushed again. “Thank you, you are very pretty.”

Alyssa spoke up. “Are any of you girls left-handed?” That seemed like an odd question, but one girl raised her hand.

“OK,” Alyssa said. “You are Samantha, right?“ The girl nodded. “OK, Samantha, you can get out of line and stand over here next to Linda. The rest of you girls move over to cover the gap. We have an extra girl this time, so we’re OK.”

When everybody was resettled, Alyssa directed. “Each girl will now spread her legs so that her assigned boy can lie across her left thigh. Once the boy in in place, use your right leg to pin him into position. Both of you try to get as comfortable as possible in the position.”

(Ominous, that was the perfect spanking position – I knew we were in trouble.)

When we were all settled, I tried to get as comfortable as possible. My penis was pressing against Cheryl’s bare left leg and I knew she could feel my boy-parts pressing against her bare skin. With my face down, I couldn’t see her face, but she patted my bottom reassuringly and said something like, “It’ll be all right, Mikey.”

Alyssa continued. “Now Linda, my assistant will pass among you and give each girl a tube of lubricant and a thermometer with a blue band across the top. These are rectal thermometers and are only to be used on boys. For those of you who have never used a rectal thermometer, be very careful when inserting it. These are made of a special flexible plastic, but they can hurt the boy if their rectums are not properly lubricated.

“If you look at the thermometers, you will see that there are two black lines. When you insert it, make sure the first black line is inside the boy’s rectum and the second line is outside. That will give you the proper depth. Now go ahead and put some lubricant on one of your fingers and use it to thoroughly lubricate the boy’s rosebud and rectum. Stick your finger up as far as you can and wriggle it around. You will have to do this 2-3 times to get the proper lubrication.”

Cheryl poked her finger up into my rectum. It didn’t really hurt but it was a weird situation. “Don’t worry, Mikey,” she said. “I’m going to use plenty of goop, so it doesn’t hurt you.”

I squirmed around a bit, more in embarrassment than discomfort. Here was a girl I had never met, three years younger than me, with her finger deep inside my rectum. But she was gentle and patient and soon had the thermometer inserted properly, without any real pain.

Then Linda was back again. I could see her smiling with joy as she looked at my humiliating position. She gave something to Cheryl.

“OK, girls, it’s your turn now.” Alyssa announced. “Linda is passing around another batch of thermometers with red tips on them. These are oral thermometers for the girls. Each of you put the thermometer under your tongue and keep your mouth closed for at least three minutes. I know that’s a long time for a teenage girl to keep her mouth closed, (giggles from the crowd), but give it your best shot. If you don’t do it properly we may have to use the blue thermometers on you. I’m sure the boys would enjoy watching that.”

“While the three minutes are going on, girls, make sure the boy’s thermometer is between the two black lines. You may have to move it in and out a bit to keep it in the proper place. Please do it gently, we don’t want to hurt the boys.”

It seemed like an hour of squirming and moaning, but Alyssa finally called the time. “OK, girls, it’s been three minutes. Linda will now pass among you, collect the red thermometers, and record your temperatures. Keep the boys over your laps and keep their thermometers in the proper position. Samantha, once your thermometer is collected and read, you may go into the room on the right to finish your paperwork. We won’t need you here for the next phase.”

(The next phase?)

When all the red thermometers had been collected and all the girls had passed the temperature check, Linda picked up another clipboard and a box and started to collect and read the blue thermometers that were still in the boys’ rectums. I noticed that she deliberately started at the other end of the line, so that I would be the last to have the thermometer removed. Since I had been the first to have it inserted, that meant that I had to endure it the longest.

“Once the thermometers have been collected, girls, keep your boy in place over your lap for the next phase.” Alyssa announced. I could hear Linda and a couple of the other girls giggling, so I knew it was going to be nothing good.’

“Now, as you all know, boys are less mature than girls and need strict discipline to keep them in line. The best punishment for a naughty boy – of whatever age – is, of course, a hard bare-bottom spanking. Preferably administered by and in the presence of girls his own age and younger.”

(More groaning and moaning from the helpless boys. Somebody at the other end of the line actually started crying.)

“Linda is now passing out a wooden hairbrush to each girl. As soon as you get your hairbrush, you will start spanking the boy in your lap as vigorously as you can. This may be the only chance you girl campers get to spank a boy this summer, so take full advantage of it. I want to see eight very red, very warm little-boy bottoms. And don’t hold back, if I see a girl slacking off, the boy will get a double round of spanking and the girl will be punished as well. Not by spanking, of course, but we have other methods for dealing with girls who don’t cooperate.”

Naturally, Cheryl was the first girl to get her hairbrush and she started out with a had swat to my right cheek, followed by and equally hard swat to my left cheek. Of course, I yelped in pain and she giggled. “I just love spanking little boys,” she remarked to the next girl, who had Billy over her own lap.

The other girl, I think her name was Penny, giggled in turn and said. “Oh, yes, I have two little brothers and I get to spank them 3-4 times week. It’s fun to watch them squirming and seeing their little bottoms bounce up and down and turn red.”

Cheryl laughed. “And to hear them yelping and howling and blubbering away when the spanking goes on and on. My baby brother is nine and he makes the most amusing noises. It’s just hilarious, especially when there are other kids over to watch.”

Penny said, “Yeah, that’s the best part. Sometimes I let the other girls spank my brothers, they get so embarrassed at having girls spank them. Especially when they are completely naked, and the girls are in the same classes with them.”

“Yeah, my brother gets teased all the time about being a baby,” Cheryl said. My mother has his teacher spank his bare bottom in front of the whole class when he has been naughty in school.”

“Oh, I love when that happens,” Penny exclaimed. A couple of the boys in my Middle School get spanked that way, too. It’s even more fun when they do their spanky dance afterwards with their little weenies flopping around and their marbles bouncing up and down.”

Of course, both girls kept up their smacking of our bottoms while embarrassing us further with small talk. They had set themselves a regular pace of hard swats, alternating cheeks and covering every square inch of our battered bottoms. Billy and I were both howling in pain and humiliation by the time we had gotten a couple dozen swats.

With my head almost touching the floor, of course, I couldn’t see anybody except Penny and Billy, but we could all hear the crying, blubbering, howling and pleas for mercy coming from the other six boys in the line. And of course, the giggles and chatter from the girls. Not to mention the encouraging comments from the older girls and mothers observing our agony.

Finally, the pain in my bottom was so bad that I couldn’t do anything but lie limp across Cheryl’s lap with the tears, sweat and snot dripping from my face and forming a nasty little puddle on the floor under my head. All I could manage was a pitiful little moaning sound.

Then the spanking stopped, and I could hear nothing but the moans and groans from the other battered boys. Apparently Alyssa had called a halt to the proceeding. In the silence I heard Penny say, “Little Billy has peed on my leg! Did Mikey pee on you, too?”

Cheryl stuck her hand between my legs and felt my weenie and balls. “I don’t think so. There’s a bit of wetness there, but I think it’s just sweat. His or mine, or maybe a little of both.”

Penny laughed. “No big deal, we’ll get to shower and change clothes in a little while, anyway. I imagine they’ll hose off the boys as well. “

Alyssa was speaking again. “Well done, girls. I can see a whole line of VERY red bottoms and some very well-spanked little boys. Now, for the good news, boys, we will not be starting off every day with a spanking for you. Today was an introduction to our methods here at Varna. From now on, you will be spanked only if you misbehave or show a bad attitude. Remember that any adult or any girl in gold and green can spank any boy, any place, at any time, if she feels that it is justified. If any boy feels he has been unfairly treated, he can complain to the senior staff. But he must accept the spanking first. If the girl was wrong, she may be punished later.”

She went on. “Whenever you arrive here each day, everybody will have his or her temperature taken. That includes staff, girl campers and boy campers. This is necessary, so we don’t have sick kids sharing germs with healthy ones. Boys will have their temperatures taken rectally as we did today but without the spankings. Girls will have their temperatures taken orally, unless they are being punished. Oh, and girls, if you do have your temperature taken rectally, there will only be one boy in the room at the time. He will be the boy with the best behavior record in the group.”

She smiled. “That should be an incentive for the boys to behave and also for the girls to behave. I am sure that none of you girl campers wants to have a boy your own age or younger sticking a thermometer into your rectums.”

Dana stepped forward. “OK, now you girl campers and your guardians follow me into the next room where we will do the rest of your paperwork. Boys, stay behind and follow Alyssa’s instructions in cleaning up the room for the next group.”

The girls trooped out, leaving a Alyssa, Linda and a few mothers/sisters of the boys.

Linda pointed to a large table on the far end of the room. “There are wet washcloths in the blue plastic bin on the table. In the two green bins are clean towels. Each of you take a washcloth from the bin and clean off your faces, your boy parts and anything else that has sweat, snot or pee on it. Then clean off the chairs and move them back about two feet. After that, use the towels to dry yourself and then to wipe the tears, snot, sweat and pee from the floors in the area where you were spanked.”

“When you are done and reasonably clean, come to me or Alyssa and we will inspect you and the area. If we are satisfied put the dirty towels and washcloths into one of the yellow laundry baskets. Then line up in front of the door to your right. Now get your little red bottoms moving. There is another group arriving in ten minutes and we need this room clean. If anybody needs motivation, I still have one of the hairbrushes.”

She smacked the nearest boy, a nine-year-old named Matt, on his already scarlet bottom for emphasis. He yelped in pain and the rest of us made a mad dash for the washcloths. Most of us were still crying and every move was more pain, but we managed to get ourselves and the room cleaned up and the chairs back in place within the allotted ten minutes. Alyssa and Linda occupied themselves by wandering around the room, smacking random bottoms with their hairbrushes, apparently to “encourage” us.

As we lined up, we could see the girl campers leaving the living room by another door and proceeding along the path to the Gretzky house. They were giggling and chatting amongst themselves, having a good time. Some of them waved to us when they saw us at the window. Of course, they had been having great fun at our expense, thoroughly enjoying our pain and humiliation.

In a few minutes, we boys were admitted to the living room where our guardians were given paperwork to fill out and we boys were examined again, with particular emphasis on our private parts and our blazing red bottoms. There was a lot of patting, rubbing and fondling, of course, as the girls enjoyed being free to take whatever liberties they wanted with our abused bodies.

After all the paperwork was finished, the mothers and siblings left and we were herded out onto a tennis court which had been stripped of the nets and posts, so it was just a large asphalt space with an awning to keep out the sun. We noticed some of the girl campers in their red shorts and a number of staff girls in green shorts, along with some women and girls in civilian clothes who seemed to be just observing.

“OK, boys. One at a time, move to center court for your boywash.” Dana directed.

Being first in line, I moved to center court and saw two girls in bright green one-piece swimsuits. They looked 14 or 15. The older girl carried a garden hose and proceeded to spray me all over my body, first with a medium spray and then with a harder one, which really stung, especially on my very sore bottom. Then the younger girl directed me to bend over and spread my legs. She proceeded to use a long-handled plastic bath brush to clean my genitals and anal area with great vigor. The bristles were stiff and the “cleaning” was much harsher than it needed to be.

She laughed at my yelps of pain and said “Poor little baby boy. He doesn’t like having his little heinie cleaned. If you’re a real good little boy, maybe Auntie Sarah will give you a lolly when it is all over.”

The female audience laughed at her wit, but I found nothing humorous in the situation. My bottom was still in agony and now my private parts were sore as well. I cursed the inventors of Puericil for having turned me from a normal boy into a small, weak, child without the strength or will to resist my pain and humiliation.

Finally, the “boywash” was over and we were guided to a clear area under some trees where we were allowed to stand and “air dry.”

End of Part 5

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