Progression

By Running Bare
runningbare@anonymousspeech.com

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This story is intended for adults only. It contains depictions of forced nudity, spanking, and sexual activity of preteen and young teen children for the purpose of punishment. None of the behaviors in this story should be attempted in real life, as that would be harmful and/or illegal. If you are not of legal age in your community to read or view such material, please leave now.

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What’s it like to be a sixteen-year-old who is challenged by his Aunt to break the body shyness of his young cousin? I’ve tried to capture the how I did it in this story of progression toward that goal. I’m not sure how my cousin felt, but I sure enjoyed it.

Progression

By, Running Bare

The little shit was a week from becoming ten. His mother was right, he was really body shy, and, I, his babysitter, was charged with helping him through both his anxiety over nudity and the experience of his tool becoming fully operational. Why? I was his geographically closest male cousin and sixteen so his mom and, I’m sure my own, felt I was old enough to tackle the task.

Fortunately for me, there was no father in the picture. His biological father was killed by a drunken driver when he was three, and, his stepdad had long since left the picture after he and his mother divorced a few years back. I say fortunately because, had either one been around, they’d be tasked to do it and I wouldn’t have been able to feed my fetish for this kind of thing.

My fetish? A propensity to enjoy seeing boys his age in embarrassing situations where they are forced to go against their modesty and present themselves naked in front of others. It pretty much started a few months ago when my aunt asked me to take a towel to Davey after he’d showered. I tried, but the kid had locked the door and even with my knock and explanation that I had his towel, he refused my entry. That ordeal, after a multitude of requests from me and orders from his mother to let me in, eventually earned him a round with the belt from his mother. The only disappointment was that I chose to stay downstairs and listen to it, rather than watch her cut into him. I must admit from the sound of it, she and her brother, my Dad, were more than competent at whipping errant boys. As far as my Dad, I speak from experience.

What amused me most was her chastisement to him that night, “From now on, you will do what I tell you. I sent Ronnie up here to make sure you weren’t fooling around and give you a towel. He told you I sent him. You didn’t let him in? Next time you don’t lock that door. You understand, young man?”

Then a crying boy’s retort, “I didn’t want him to see me.”

Still in an elevated angry voice, but somewhat moderated, I listened to Aunt Brenda’s response, “For crying out loud, Davey, he’s a boy. He’s got the same thing you do. He’s seen penises before. You’ve got to get over this shyness. Boys aren’t supposed to be so modest. Now, go downstairs and apologize to Ronnie.” Then, “NO, go naked!” I got a sudden shot of arousal. She’s sending him to me naked! “Get down there and apologize. I’ll decide when you can put some clothes on.”

This was getting interesting for me. The shy little imp entered the living room, one hand covering his item, hair still wet, eyes cast downward, “I’m sorry, Ronnie.” Aunt Brenda was nowhere to be seen.

What the hell is a guy supposed to do? An apology from a still damp kid fresh from the shower, still sniffing back snot from his recent spanking, standing irresistibly naked in front of you seeking your forgiveness.

“Hey, Davey, I’m okay. Don’t worry about it.” I sure wished he’d moved his hand so I could get a look at what he was so embarrassed about.

Now, I have to say, pretty much all I wanted was a good look at his equipment. Funny, not for a sexual reason. I mean, I wasn’t, and am still not, into sex with kids. I would however derive a great deal of pleasure watching the kid writhe in embarrassment and humiliation. Now, I don’t want you to think I’d refrain from fondling because I wouldn’t, but that would only be a part of the program to entice an erection. I’m sure if he was sporting a little hard-on it would only to add to his embarrassment. I had no drive to engage in oral or any other kind of sex with him. I just wanted the cuteness of his embarrassment to shine through. I’m not a mental health professional, but I’d swear it’s subconsciously a pleasure generated to confront my own preadolescent body shyness face to face.

There stood this nine-year-old, clutching his frank and beans to keep from exposing them to me. It truly was cute.

“Come on over here, Davey.” I patted the couch cushion beside me.

The kid shuffled slowly and apprehensively over to the couch. I patted the cushion again to signal I wanted him to sit. He did, still holding his hand tightly over his tools, knees together pinching that protective hand even more tightly.

“You know, your Mom’s right. You don’t have anything down there I haven’t seen before. In fact, I’ve seen yours plenty of times. So, why are you so shy now?”

“I just don’t like people seeing me.”

“Well, I think you need to move your hand and spread your legs. I promise I won’t say anything, I’ll just look at it. Won’t even touch it (yet).”

He didn’t respond. I gently grabbed the elbow of the covering arm and pulled it away. He relinquished the hand, but kept the legs tightly closed limiting the view to the top of an erect penis.

I reached down and gently guided his knees apart freeing the stiff appendage and exposing his immature walnut sized ball sack. I must admit the kid’s penis was a sight to behold. I mean he was only nine and his little stiffy must have stretched to four, maybe five inches. No world’s record holder, but no slouch either. I remember thinking, nothing there to be embarrassed about.

“Why don’t you sit there, just like that, until your Mom brings your pajamas down.” I was counting on the shorty pajamas with no underwear.

While we’re at this point, when in the hell did boys have the freedom to choose to wear underwear beneath their pajamas anyway? Most boys never were allowed to when I was a kid, but today it’s almost standard. Frankly, I did and still would prefer they sleep naked anyway. I knew, if Brenda asked, I was definitely going to recommend that for David.

I rested my hand on the boy’s inner thigh and just left it there. It truly was my intention to eventually rub against the boy’s grape sized glans to maintain that amazing little stiffy and, with a little luck, further embarrass the kid by forcibly subjecting him to my intimate touch. We sat side by side staring at the television, but I’d guarantee neither of us was fully attending to what was on the television. We pretended to be, but certainly couldn’t pass a test over the content of the programming.

The drive within me was strong. My bad angel was whispering to me to inch closer to making contact with that amazing little glans. I gave his upper leg a squeeze. The soft, smooth skin indented from the pressure of my fingertips into the firm muscle below. As I released my grip, I continued the guise of being unaware of the position of my hand as I used the release of that grasp to move my hand ever higher toward his still erect penis.

The anticipation of my contact with either his appendage or ball sack kept me erotically stimulated, but amazingly an erection of my own remained at bay until I finally made the move to wrap my hand securely around his dowel sized penis. Davey continued to stare at the television feigning any awareness of my final move. His legs spread almost automatically signaling his desire for more complete contact.

Brenda came into the room abruptly. Startled by her sudden appearance, I immediately withdrew my contact with her son’s penis. I know the embarrassment of being caught had to be plainly visible on my face. Davey, continued to sit fully splayed. Brenda didn’t say a word other than, “What are you boys watching?”

I was clueless. I tried to identify what was on T.V. That wasn’t where my attention had been planted. A quick glance helped me identify Doris Day. The scene from the movie “Don’t Eat the Daisies” couldn’t have been more timely. She was standing in the bathroom waiting as two young naked boys climbed out of the bathtub. Their bare asses momentarily filled the screen. Who’d have guessed?

Completely embarrassed, I stumbled around trying to gather some kind of explanation, “She’s their mom...” I hoped that would indicate my attention had been on the movie and not the naked nine-year-old sitting beside me, legs still widely spread, stiff penis still sticking up.

She’d been standing there for at least a half a minute before her naked son acknowledged her presence. “Did you bring my pajamas?”

“I’ve decided you need to start sleeping naked. At least, until you get over this silly shyness.”

In the moment what went through my head was, “Holy shit, has she been reading my thoughts?” It almost slipped out of my mouth.

Amazingly, Davey didn’t argue the point. I assumed it was because I’d felt his package and he not only was good with it, but the resulting familiarity took away his need to protect himself in my presence. I also hoped he was looking for more of the same. Unfortunately, being caught by his mother as I fondled him took any immediate drive to reengage away from me.

Brenda’s obvious disinterest in discussing what she’d interrupted was to be a clear green light for me to become even more involved with the boy. Imagine my surprise when she asked if I could help her with something in the kitchen. In the back of my mind, I kind of anticipated a chastisement. I wasn’t prepared for what was coming.

“You know, you didn’t have to stop what you were doing with Davey just because I came in. I kind of would enjoy watching you play with his penis. Feel free and don’t be so damned skittish about it. As long as you aren’t hurting him and have your clothing on, you can do pretty much whatever you want to him. He really needs to let go of his shyness.”

I took it defensively, “Hey, I’m not a pedophile. I just realized where my hand was when you came in.” As I delivered that line, I knew my face was red as a beet with embarrassment. It wasn’t hard to detect my lie.

“No, Ronnie, I know you aren’t really trying to have sex with Davey. If you did, I kick you the hell out of my house. But, I do know you were enjoying playing with his junk and you were well aware of what you were doing. What I liked was so was Davey and he was letting you do it. That was a big jump for him.”

Still defensive, I reiterated her suggestion. Just to nail down what permissions she was giving me. “You mean you want me to feel his stuff?”

“Yeah, as much as you want. Now that you’ve touched his penis he should be okay with being naked in front of you in the future. Just don’t accept anything less. Let me just say, touch him wherever, just don’t expose yourself in any way. Agreed?”

“Okay.”

“Now, get back in there and play with that penis as much as you want. I kind of like to see it hard. You know why?”

“No.” I kind of did though.

“Because it embarrasses him so much. I love seeing Davey humiliated.”

I went back in the living room and with new powers that had been endowed, I gently pushed the boy’s legs apart and reengaged his penis and scrotum. His face showed the puzzlement he experienced at my new-found brashness. As I rubbed his penis and scrotum, slowly, but surely the erection returned. Brenda came in as I did so, but this time I didn’t retract my contact which brought a questioning glance back at me. It was evident he couldn’t understand how I could continue the activity with his mother present. She sat and watched as the now conquered boy acted as though he wasn’t aware of any of it.

That little appendage was stiff, and as I released it’d bounce back to its slight upward angle after first slapping against his pubis. He didn’t look at it, but I did. So, did his mother. Each time I’d grasp his knob I enjoyed the softness of it compared to the total stiffness of the shaft. Occasionally I’d rearrange his still immature marbles within the soft scrotum.

Brenda left the chair she was sitting in and sat on the other side of her son. She nudged my hand out of the way and began her own exploratory session. He tensed a bit at her initial contact. “You know, Davey, I used to wash this, put powder on this, I used to strip you and send you outside so other people could see it, and now you are growing up too fast. You’re only nine. Still a little boy. You shouldn’t be so shy about your penis or testicles. They’re perfect and they look just like any other little boys’. I’m very concerned about your fear of letting people see and touch you.”

I was getting hot just imagining where my aunt was going with her conversation. Davey was either stunned or wasn’t listening. He made no comment. Just sat there stoically, acting like he was fully concentrating on the movie on the TV, while his mother fondled him.

“I’ve decided you are going to have to be naked most of the time you’re home from now on. Ronnie will be coming over to babysit and help you adjust to being naked. You are to do whatever he tells you. He will also be allowed to show you to other people and he can let them feel your penis or any other parts of your body they want to.”

Still no response from the boy.

“Are you listening to me?”

Finally, an abrupt and indignant response, “Yes...”

“Well, what do you have to say about the new rules?”

He responded with a shoulder shrug. It was evident by his facial expression he was scared and still mulling it over.

I was ecstatic. I now had the power to order this nine-year-old to strip naked at my whim, anywhere I wanted to. He had to comply and there would be no consequence to me for doing it. I could further humiliate him by allowing anyone to feel his junk, even his tight little anus, whenever I wanted to and he had to succumb to it. Nothing could be more satisfying to my fetish. I owned Davey at least for the moment.

After Davey went to bed. Naked! Brenda and I discussed the game plan.

My first question? “How long are we going to do this to him?”

“I’d say we have at least three years. I’m not going to let up until he is into puberty. Yeah, I’d give it three years. At least three years.”

“What do you want me to do with him?”

“Just feel free to fondle and expose him. He’ll be completely nude whenever you babysit. Shoot he’ll be nude whenever you come over. I meant what I said, after school he strips naked and stays that way until the next school day. The only time I see him wearing anything is when he is going somewhere he is expected to be wearing something, and then only enough to meet the clothing requirement. I mean, the kid’s beautiful—great boy equipment, very muscular and shapely legs, flawless body, and a smile to kill for. What’s not to like looking at?”

I could only agree.

“The tan lines go. He’s outside naked from now on, too. Hope the neighbors enjoy the sight.”

It wasn’t until three days later I was able to once again visit with Aunt Brenda and Davey. I was slightly skeptical that she had enforced her new rule but was pleasantly surprised to see the naked boy sitting in the living room, watching TV, at four o’clock that Thursday afternoon. He’d been to school and was now on display for the rest of the day.

I did get the chance to reinforce my aunt about follow through. She was a bit offended that I’d question her commitment. That was followed by my observation that it was a nice day and he should be outside not watching television. Blame it on my fetish, but I suggested that he might enjoy having Cindy Blankenship the eight-year-old neighbor girl come over to play for a while and perhaps bring some friends.

Aunt Brenda got that look in her eye that signaled she hadn’t thought of that and the glint that she was completely in agreement. In fact, she was on the phone within seconds with Mrs. Blankenship. The conversation was a bit surprising for me to hear.

“You know Davey has a problem with people seeing him naked? I think I’ve talked with you about that, Marge.” A period of silence. “Well, you know little boys shouldn’t be shy about their bodies. It just isn’t good for them.” More silence. “Yes, girls are different. Funny how that works. Boys need to be public property and girls should maintain maximum modesty. But, that’s the way it is. And, Davey is now going to spend a good amount of time naked. In fact, when he’s home, he’ll be naked most all the time.” I could hear Mrs. Blankenship’s muffled laugh. “Yes, yes he’s nude now. That’s kind of why I’m calling. Do you think Cindy would like to bring some friends and come over to spend some playtime with him? It’d really help the cause.” Then more mumbling could be heard as Mrs. B responded. “Oh, no it’d be okay if the girls touch him there. They’d learn about boys’ bodies and he’d get a good dose of humiliation. I wouldn’t expect anything else. Yeah, I’m okay with that. In fact, I might even encourage them.” More silence as Mrs. B talked. “They can come any time. But, Marge, don’t tell them he’s naked. I want to see how it plays out as a surprise on both ends.” More pause. “Oh, no go ahead and call some other mothers. Call me back after you line up a few more girls. Any of the girls in Davey’s class at school would be great, if you know any.” Another pause. “Now, that might be interesting as well. A sleep over with other boys. Yeah, I imagine they could stay dressed and Davey would have to entertain them while he was naked. Interesting thought. I may just work on that too.”

They exchanged pleasantries and ended the call. She filled in the blanks for me. Mrs. Blankenship was going to get a few other little girls together and send them over to “play” with Davey. What made that weird from the get go was Davey didn’t ever play with little girls. He wouldn’t think of it. Now, they were going to literally be playing with him.

I walked into the living room and told Davey to spread his legs. He looked at me resentfully but did as he was told. “Now play with your penis. Go ahead, pull on it and flop it around. I want to watch you do it. Go on!”

He hesitantly stretched his then flaccid member about an inch and a half. His eyes met mine.

“Pull it harder!” He managed another half inch. “Harder, Davey! Feel good?”

“Why do I have to do that?”

“Because I said so. Go ahead flop it around. I want to see that baby stiff.”

He looked perplexed but took the shaft at it’s base and flopped it left and right. It didn’t take long to stiffen.

“Now just rub it until I tell you to stop. You can watch TV while you do it.”

What a turn on. The boy sat there fondling himself as I watched. He’d glare at me with resentment over the task, but his look just added to my excitement.

Aunt Brenda pulled me back to the kitchen and told me of the impending visit from whatever little girls desired to “play” with Davey for the day. She told me they were going to be allowed to touch any parts they wanted to and as much as they wanted to during their visit. She asked if I could be there for the Saturday morning playdate to help with enforcement, whatever the hell that meant. I just wanted to watch him being accosted for the day.

Saturday morning, I called the hardware store where I worked part time, and told them I wasn’t feeling well and needed to stay with my aunt for the day. Yeah, I lied and skipped work. Who hasn’t done that at least once?

When I arrived at Brenda’s, Davey was naked and watching cartoons on TV. It was a typical Saturday morning—quiet, slow moving. It was evident the boy was completely unaware of what was about to happen. The girls showed up mid-morning. The sound of the doorbell alerted the boy visitors were imminent. His attention went to his mother as she walked passed the living room to answer the door. His eyes jutted around as I’m sure he was planning a strategy for avoidance of whomever was at the door. Little could he expect there were four little girls about to make a grand entry.

I heard an immature voice, “Mom said we had to come over and play with Davey. She said he couldn’t come out and it would be nice for us to visit him. Is he sick, or something?”

Brenda responded, “Why don’t you girls come in? l think, he’ll be excited to see you.”

She thought they’d be excited? What the hell? She thought they’d be excited? Yes, they’d be excited at least I was excited anticipating what was about to take place. I know excited wasn’t what we’d see in Davey. He’d be aroused and embarrassed.

As they entered, Davey grew immediately alarmed and attempted a beeline to his bedroom. The girls caught sight of him as he ran past the front door. They gasped and giggled at the sight of their naked age mate. I grabbed him in an effort to frontally expose him to them. He cried and twisted and turned trying to win release, but a nine year old is no match for a determined sixteen year old. Having a hold on the boy with my arms crossed across his chest, I had him facing his company. He couldn’t reach his penis to cover it with his hands further frustrating him. His stiff penis bounced around as I wrestled to steady him for their inspection.

Brenda eventually took her attention from welcoming the girls to trying to order Davey to “settle down”. He definitely wasn’t going to do that. Then she told me to hold him so the girls could feel his little boy parts, if they wanted to. It was evident the “good touch, bad touch” lectures they’d probably heard in school, were holding them back. Brenda explained they’d be helping Davey if they touched his penis and scrotum. She explained little boys shouldn’t be shy about being naked and Davey was. It would be good touch if it made Davey feel better about his body, so they should really help him if they went ahead and touched him.

She cinched the activity with, “Besides, I’m his mother. I wouldn’t let you do anything bad to him. I’m going to be right here all day. So, it’s not like you’re hiding and doing anything wrong. Why don’t you all go with Ronnie into the living room and he’ll hold Davey down while you feel his boy parts. Don’t worry, after a while, Davey will get used to you girls feeling him and calm down.”

I carried the still wrestling boy into the living room. The four girls followed. Their faces were still showing some uncertainty about what Brenda asked them to do, but you could tell they wanted to. I put Davey on the floor and straddled his mid-section holding his arms above his head. His erect penis and tight little scrotum were behind me. He kicked his legs trying to fend off the girls. I encouraged them to approach from the side and feel whatever.

Davey was crying out of frustration. The girls eventually built up the confidence to reach out and feel his phallus.

One of visiting girls, a cute brunette called Bella, was a fourth grade classmate of Davey’s. It was quickly apparent her presence was the most embarrassing to him. Guess it was the thought she’d describe the event to all the other girls, and most likely boys, in his class. Or, it could have been, as I was to find out, the girl didn’t have any brothers so the anatomy was for the most part new to her. Add to that the green light to feel his genitals and she was thoroughly entertained.

Cindy didn’t have male siblings either, but she’d frequently seen Davey naked when they were younger. Aunt Brenda and Cindy’s mother mutually babysat for each other since the two were toddlers. They both were watched in the backyards as they toddled and played naked as the day they were born until they were four or five. Even so, I bet it’d been at least four years since she’d seen him nude.

The other two girls both had brothers. I could glean from the remarks they made as they twisted Davey’s erect penis like they were trying to shape pretzels, neither had ever experienced permission to feel their brother’s penises. Carey’s brother was younger and she admitted she’d felt his and even shared the experience with some of her friends unbeknownst to her parents.

Julia the youngest of the four mentioned her brother was older and she’d seen his penis and “balls” a lot, but she was sure he’d hit her if she tried to touch them. She also said her mother and father would probably have punished her if she touched him. That little tyke couldn’t take her hands off Davey’s equipment. She was intrigued with feeling his scrotum and its contents. So much so, the other girls started to complain they wanted a turn and forced the younger girl out of the way.

I found Bella’s fondling the most fun to watch. I especially like her continued reference to, “Wait ‘til I tell the other kids about this. They’ll be sooooo jealous.”

Had she had a cellphone, I’d have offered to take a picture of her as she pulled on my cousin’s hardened penis. She could really show it off then. But, she didn’t. I learned later after asking if she had one, her mother told her she was too young for a cellphone.

I used mine throughout the afternoon and told the girls I’d have the pictures to share whenever they did get one. Brenda had me copy the contents to a flash drive so she could have some “high res” mementos of the event.

My teasing about posting the photos on the internet so everyone could see him accelerated Davey’s frustration and he started crying. The girls withdrew their touching and truly had an empathetic moment. Cindy offered a half-assed apology to him and suggested they leave him alone for a while. Brenda encouraged them with, “Don’t stop girls, he’ll be alright. He’s just a little shy about all this attention. You know he’ll be naked most of the time when he’s home and you can play with him whenever you want.”

The play session continued but a little less vigorously for about three hours. I know my cousin’s balls and penis must have ached from all the manhandling, but his mother and I chalked it up to “conditioning”.

One of the most interesting events during Davey’s naked time was the sleepover his mother arranged in the middle of his tenth year. She’d arranged for six of his friends to attend.

Each of the boys had already been over to play with his penis, balls and ass during the intervening year. As a result, he had overcome a great deal of his modesty issues. I can’t say whether it was because he’d succumbed to his mother’s insistence, or the events we’d sponsored for open and free exploration of his body were responsible for his attitude change. In either event, it wasn’t nearly as arousing to me as it had been when he was nine. The novelty had worn off. I think even Brenda wanted to spice it up again and this sleep over did just that.

Apparently, through all the photo sharing and stories being shared by their own kids, Davey’s plight had gotten to most parents in the community. Turns out Brenda’s therapy idea brought out a secret desire in many mothers (and fathers) to do the same to their boys. Even though Brenda’s commitment with Davey got them interested, it was obvious no one else had the strength to force their boys into such a program. Brenda was questioned almost daily about the “how to’s” of forced nudity for boys and Davey’s progress. She became more aware of the number of boys who shared Davey’s body shyness and parental desires to confront the problem. Brenda connived a plan that would both help them get started and us to renew our eroticism.

She had purchased a 25’ above ground pool. She and I spent a whole weekend installing the damned thing. It even had a filtration system. Davey was forced to help. Curiously, while he was engaged in holding this or that, or retrieving this or that, his nudity didn’t appear to be on his mind. He stayed flaccid even though he was fully exposed to the neighbors.

Once installed Brenda made it clear that Davey had to be completely nude to enjoy the pool regardless of the number, age, and/or gender of any guests. I don’t think he even remotely thought he wouldn’t have to be. After all, he was forced to stay naked most all the time. Why would swimming in the backyard make the rules any different?

The plan Brenda hatched with six other mothers was that they’d bring the boys for the three day sleepover clad only in shorts and t-shirts. Davey would be naked and swimming in the pool during the arrival period. It was anticipated the boys would be “licking their chops” to join him in the pool. Their mothers would suggest, “Why don’t you take off your clothes and join him?” If that worked great. If it didn’t they needed to order them to strip. If that didn’t work, Brenda would offer a belt to persuade them. Then while the nude boys romped, their mothers would gather the boys’ clothing and leave. With nothing to put on, they’d have to spend the weekend naked, like it or not.

Brenda and I would then plan outings and experiences to put them all on display. It was the first time, I was given authority to use a belt to make them do whatever we felt was appropriate to break their modesty. At sixteen that authority went right to my head. I looked for reasons to put some stripes across the boys’ backsides.

I was present when the last four parents drop their boys off. Two of the four were dropped by their dads who felt it was a great thing for the boys to get used to being naked in front of others. They were even good with Brenda’s offer to have Cindy and some of her friends over to enjoy the escapade. Who’d have thought? What brought the most satisfaction to the men’s faces was the fact that I would use a belt on them to straighten out any problems. For some reason they both almost cheered at the pronouncement. Guess such vindictiveness is a guy thing.

We now had seven nude ten, eleven and twelve-year-old boys to “break”. All but Davey were quite guarded. Even my initial appearance propelled the bulk of them to cover themselves with their hands. Benda assembled our naked charges in a straight line right there in the suburban backyard. They were told to spread their legs and put their hands behind their backs.

As they stood at parade rest, I’m not sure any of them was aware that the treeless backyards provided unobstructed views from at least six neighbors’ homes.

In my quick inspection of the assembled “troops” I noted most were trim and athletically built with well-shaped muscular legs. There were penises of every size from nub to three and four inchers. All were circumcised. What were the chances of that? Davey was the only one among them with no tan lines. I wasn’t sure three days would allow enough time to remedy the tanning issues but it wouldn’t be that Brenda and I didn’t try. Regardless of their milk white groins, these boys were beautiful. Brenda must have targeted them specifically.

My aunt went over the rules. I was told to just stand there with the 38” belt folded over and hanging from my hand. I didn’t know whether any neighbors were checking them out, but I’m certain if any were watching they were enjoying the whole scene. If they weren’t, they would be lying.

Like a drill sergeant, Brenda walked in front of the line half shouting that she liked seeing little boys’ penises and that was the first rule. “Never cover up.” She also admitted she liked seeing their “cute backsides”. Then she shocked the hell out of them.

“Your parents have all left and they took your clothes with them. That means you will be totally naked the whole weekend. No matter who comes by or where we might decide to take you, you will be naked and your penises will be on display. This boy next to me is my nephew Ronnie. The belt he is holding will be used on the bare backside of any of you who doesn’t mind. It will also be used on any boy who hides his penis when we have visitors or when we take you someplace. He will whip your tight little ass right in front of everyone if you don’t mind us. Any questions?”

You should have seen the faces of those boys. Eyes were wide opened when she let on their parents had taken their clothes. Mouths gaped open when she told them the belt would be used to enforce discipline. Most impressive was as she spoke further at least four of them had developed erections.

“Boys like to play grab ass. Don’t you?” They stood there silently which compelled her follow-up. “I said, ‘Don’t you?’” The second prod brought a mixture of positive head nods and a few mumbled agreements. The enthusiasm was still curtailed by the embarrassment, or, maybe it was they didn’t know what “grab ass” was.

“Well you boys can feel each other’s equipment as much as you want. Just be careful you don’t hurt each other, and you all know what that means. I know you guys like to compare and that means you have to feel each other’s parts. Just go easy.”

That remark brought on a few head shakes of denial, but I knew from my own experience at that age, playing with someone else’s penis was kind of fun, and so did they.

The boys were kept outside all day. After a couple of hours, they appeared to have accepted their nudity much better than I had hoped. They giggled, kidded and even groped each other as they’d climb in and out of the pool. They were all made to pee on the lawn rather than go into the house when they had to go. Watching them do that brought Brenda to mention that butt inspections had to be done whenever one of them had a bowel movement. I was charged with the responsibility for inspection and additional cleanup of their anuses. At first the idea grossed me out, but after the first two I found it rather exciting to make them succumb to my fingering their sphincters.

“Just to add additional embarrassment” Brenda decided whenever they used the bathroom for any reason, the door had to remain opened. You’d walk by and there’d be some kid in the middle of his business, he’d see you watching and it’d be hard to tell if the redness in his face was embarrassment or the result of having to push, or both. I’d guess usually both. With my inspection role I’d stand there and coach him while he tried to clean with paper. When he’d finished, I’d make him turn around and grab the seat of the toilet while I spread his cheeks apart.

Every one of them needed extra cleaning first with a soapy wash cloth. I’d follow up by penetrating their tight little orifices an inch or two with a soapy index finger. Just liked watching them lunge and groan as I did the cleaning. Not to mention the pleasure I got from their embarrassment. Of course, I’d do a cursory inspection of their scrotums and penises in case the wiping had soiled them as well. Suffice to say, no boy left the bathroom after my inspection without an erection.

That night, I was joined by two of my friends. I’d grown up with those guys and had had several preteen encounters where we played with each other’s junk. When we were eleven and twelve we used to engage in many nude challenges which were designed to expose us to unsuspecting people in our community while thoroughly embarrassing the naked participant. They involved, but what were not limited to, streaking both at night and in broad daylight; ringing doorbells and slow counting while facing the door before running to increase the likelihood the occupant would open it to a nude boy; being nude captives while other kids were rounded up to see and touch us; quick exposure to passing motorists; and many others. All of those challenges were very erotically stimulating and though we hated the possibility of being caught, the feelings they generated within us reinforced our desire to participate. Those feelings were stronger in the naked boy than in the observer(s), but both participants felt the thrill of the challenges. My friends and I were going to make sure these guys all felt it, too. The only difference was we would engineer the activities so there was no doubt these guys would be discovered. After all, that was the objective if you weren’t the naked kid, wasn’t it?

The first night, the three of us teens, took the seven naked boys on a jog around two blocks in the neighborhood. It was dark and there were few houses with lights on, but we made them jog. Any boy who ever covered would get the belt I had with me constantly. Unfortunately, other than some passing motorists, two of whom honked at the kids, there weren’t any signs of them being fully discovered. We had to change that.

Aunt Brenda told us who had kids their age living in the homes. That meant there were other possible classmates and their families who might enjoy the show. The following evenings, we would take them to those houses, line them up on the lawns or front porches, make them spread their legs, with hands on their heads and sing a rendition of “Old McDonald Had A Farm”, “Row, Row, Row Your Boat”, “America the Beautiful” or some other well-known selection after the home’s occupants had been summoned to the door. At some of the homes, the children watched with their parents and giggled, but at others the parents shepherded them away while chastising the nude boys for their despicable behavior. But, in all cases at least the adults did watch the show. Some took cellphone videos and photos as well. So how “despicable” did they find it, really?

We took the nude boys to visit their teachers’ homes. In each case, if the teacher was home, he/she was handed the belt and encouraged to use it. I have to admit, few of them refused whipping the nude boys. All of them went relatively easy on them though, awarding only two or three blows, but hard blows, to each boy. Usually, the teacher was amused and made embarrassing remarks at the sight of the boys’ inevitable boners and would chuckle as they belted them. I’ll bet each boy accumulated at least a dozen stripes from the belt that night. A side benefit was the teachers unforgettably got to know their kids better that night. I’m sure there were smiles and comments exchanged between the boys, their fellow classmates, and their teachers on the next school day.

Cindy and a group of her friends would show up every day to play with penises, scrotums and anuses. On the second day, Brenda, my friends and I spent the morning playing with those penises, scrotums and anuses. One of the more memorable events was we made the boys play with each other’s junk and even penetrate each other’s anus with their fingers. Though the penis play drew very few objections, the anus requirements did cause some consternation among them. To a kid the very idea of putting their fingers in “his butthole” was disgusting. Their disgust was tremendously reinforcing for me and I’m sure my friends and Brenda. The more they objected the longer and deeper the penetration we required. Eventually all seven ended up giggling and enjoyed watching the other boys’ reactions.

After lunch we had a standing appointment with Cindy and whatever friends who were permitted to participate to have free play with the boys’ bodies. At my suggestion, we kicked them all out to the front yard so other people could enjoy watching the girls in their fondling activities. The nude boys being pulled on, massaged, digitally penetrated, and assigned self-stimulation activities did draw a crowd. The little girls were real showgirls. The boys were very definitely intimidated. And, more than once my belt became a motivator. The sound of the three or four snaps as the leather contacted the errant boy’s backside usually drew a cheer from the gathered crowd, but more importantly drew the kid back into line.

What really impressed me and, to this day, continues to impress me is no authorities ever showed up to investigate what was going on—no cops, no social workers, nobody. I have to admit, I thought Brenda would have a lot of explaining to do, but nada. It wasn’t until weeks later I found out Timmy Baker, one of Davey’s friends and a participant in the activities, was the son of the local police chief. Maybe that was the reason. Anyway, it was nice to have the opportunity to do this to the boys.

(End of File)