Remembering Susan

By Running Bare
runningbare@anonymousspeech.com

* * * * *
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.

* * * * *

Remembering Susan

By, Running Bare

I was eleven and very shy about exposing my body. At least, I was until I started getting erections by thinking about exposing my penis and testicles to unsuspecting viewers and making it look accidental. I had for years been aroused when my mother or father had forced my nudity in places and situations where they felt it was required. Setting myself up for such situations was a whole different story entirely.

Throughout my childhood and adolescence, our mother only bought shorty cotton pajamas for my little brother and me. Unlike boys of this era, Timmy and I had to free ball it while we were pajama clad. Really, wearing underwear under our pajama bottoms was so taboo we definitely would have ended up being spanked for doing it. It was that big a deal to my mother. She insisted her boys wore clean, non-slept in underwear every morning. She complained it would double her wash load if we wore them to sleep in.

My sisters evidently got to double the wash load though. They were required to wear panties under their night gowns. We didn’t have to ask as the rules about girl and boy exposure was evident. It was the spirit of the era that it was unhealthy for boys to have modesty and it was unthinkable for girls not to have it. Boys genitals needed to be exposed in front of others to overcome any sense of self-consciousness. Girls were to be hidden to encourage modesty.

I began to hate my pajama bottoms when I was nine. They had wide open leg openings, not much more than two inch inseams, and open flies. Unlike boxers worn by many today there was no Velcro or buttoning the penile access slot. For a kid with my modesty this meant continually having to guard against incidental exposure, especially around my sisters, their friends, visitors and babysitters.

Up until then I really hadn’t given it much thought. Oh sure, there was the teasing from my sisters if I sat in various positions. They’d often comment on being able to see my “boy thing” and giggle. What was really embarrassing was when their friends were treated to such sneak peeks, too.

They’d make those remarks right in front of Mom and Dad. You’d expect them to correct the girls, but noooo. They more often than not sluffed it off with “I’m sure they’ve seen boy parts before. Don’t be so silly, girls.” Or something of that nature. Of course, red faced I’d adjust my limited coverage to ensure nothing could be seen after that.

On more than one occasion, my mother’s guest would make similar comments if Timmy or I were careless and unconscious about or sitting position or the fly of our sleepwear had fully opened, usually while we were absorbed in some television program. They didn’t giggle, but they sometimes commented.

My penis was a bit longer than most boys my age and that didn’t go without notice. But, even Timmy, who was more average sized, drew comments on occasion. Didn’t seem to bother him, but it definitely bothered me.

When we hosted sleepovers, the other kids had the option of sleeping in their street clothes, their underwear, or pajamas if they brought them. Because of my sisters, my friends most often chose to sleep in their clothing. There were a couple guys whose mothers would send them with pajamas though. Unlike Timmy and me, when other mothers sent pajamas, especially in winter, they were the long pants variety. Not us, we had the damned shorty pjs year-round.

When my sisters hosted sleepovers, Mom would make Timmy and me shower and put on the pajamas early in case the visiting females wanted to shower or clean-up for bed. I don’t ever remember the girls going to bed, but then again, we boys hosted a sleepover we would stay up until we dropped as well. I did object to having to wear those pajamas around the girls though for reasons I outlined above.

Both of us boys used to field grown-up comments about our legs. For some reason adult women found them attractive—“so firm and muscular”. In all fairness, my sisters’ friends never commented on our legs, only the grown-ups. To this day, I believe the women’s comments about my legs were what made me rebel against wearing shorts during those high modesty years. My mother forced me to wear them to school, throughout the summer, and, until I was twelve, even had my dress suit altered to shorts as well. During a family visit when Mom was alive I asked why the shorts thing. She said my legs were really handsome and people liked looking at them, especially after they’d tanned. She insisted I shouldn’t have been embarrassed by them, I should have been proud of them.

In our adulthood when we gathered as a family someone would eventually bring up the penis, scrotum, and/or anal views Timmy and my pajamas used to give. Our dear sisters would swear they lost interest after a while “I mean we got to see your things so much they weren’t interesting to us. But, our friends use to love those flashes.”

One thing would lead to the next and my sisters would bring up how my penis was so long it’d often slip out of the fly or down one of the legs while I watched TV, did homework, or played board games. Then they’d bring up Susan Hallsworth our teenage sitter back then. They’d ask if I remembered ending up having to take off my pajamas when she babysat because Mom and Dad found out “you were purposely flashing her, when she watched us”. I’d definitely be embarrassed they remembered that. And, yes, I did remember. How in the hell could I forget?

In many of my stories I talk about the good angel lighting on my shoulder and trying her damnedest to guide the boy on the straight and narrow and the misguided angel on the other doing his best to do the opposite. Well on several occasions, as modest as I was, I planned exposure just to revel in the horniness of the moment. I loved the feeling that accompanied my erect penis and wanted to have that feeling for hours.

What made that funny as hell was there I was, eleven years old, usually overly guarded about being seen naked even at boys’ swim sessions at pools, scout camp, in locker rooms and other places, but, at the same time, determined to expose myself by making the showing look innocent and accidental. Those damned pajamas offered the perfect opportunity for me to ease my genitalia into sight as planned.

Susan was fifteen when I was eleven. She had been Mom and Dad’s go to sitter for me and my younger siblings from when she was thirteen. It was convenient for them. She lived five doors down the street from us and my mother was very close friends with Mrs. Hallsworth.

When I was nine and ten and Timmy was seven and eight, Susan would make Timmy and/or me sit with her on the couch. My sisters would either be in one of the side or lounge chairs, or, more often than not stretched out on the floor while we watched TV. Susan would eventually coax one of us boys into letting her rub our legs. She’d call them leg massages.

I’m not going to lie, her leg massages felt good. The only downside was I’d also have to relinquish control over the leg opening of my shorty pjs. I’d stretch my legs across her lap after being instructed to do so and she’d rub my calves. At first it was very awkward for me. I was that protective of my body. It was tough for me to allow her to touch my legs. I was embarrassed by it, but I succumbed to her authority for fear of my Dad’s consequence if I didn’t obey. That consequence usually involved a thirty-eight-inch stirp of leather with a buckle on the end of it.

For the longest time I’d lie on my stomach and find a way to beg out of letting her do the front of my legs. As it was I’d wrap the hems at the leg openings tightly around my thighs to secure a tight limit on how much leg she could access.

The massages started when I was nine (Timmy was seven). After three or four sitting experiences, she began crossing the border I established at mid-thigh. She’d run her hand up to the bottom of my butt and after loosening the tightly wrapped hemline, onto the bottom of my cheeks. It felt too good for me to make her stop. My lack of objection apparently signaled her to feel free to go progressively higher. Before I knew it, she was directly massaging the entirety of both globes. My boy member reacted to the butt massage. I’d find myself having to lay there for fifteen or twenty minutes after Susan stopped to allow my penis return to normal. I did like the feeling of her stimulating my backside, but I was not prepared to treat her to my penile condition.

Timmy was getting the full butt treatment as well. Apparently, he liked it too. There was no objection. I don’t think he was even self-conscious about it. At least I thought so. Timmy was quick to follow Susan’s command to roll over so she could get the front of his legs and often when he did so, his penis was stiff and his circumcised knob would be sticking right out of the fly of his pajamas. Oh, he’d make an awkward giggle as he made an apparel adjustment and would end up pressing down with his hands to cover any tenting, but it was evident he liked the “leg massage”.

As Susan would rub the front of Timmy’s legs, I’d cast quick glances in their direction to watch for the encroachment up Timmy’s legs. I kind of anticipated that would be Susan’s next move. I actually was wanting her to slide up there and fondle Timmy’s boy parts. I had voyeuristic pleasure just thinking about it. Though she slid her hands up Timmy’s legs an inch or so she didn’t force any fondling. I don’t know if it was Timmy’s awareness of her probable next move, positioning his hands over his erect member, or her self-discipline that kept her at bay, but she didn’t encroach on his boyhood. I found her hesitance to stop short of fondling him a bit frustrating for me. Again, it must have been that voyeurism that caused my frustration.

Three or four babysitting gigs later, Susan started asking us to take off our pajama tops so she could include back massages too. Timmy was quick to shed his. I was more guarded and it took a few over-the-shirt massages before I’d participate bareback. Our sisters remained oblivious and disinterested as Timmy stripped away his upper covering.

Regardless of Timmy’s compliance, I was still not rolling over for her. Timmy was quick to jump through her hoops whenever she commanded it. Each time he’d be holding his erect appendage under his hands, but now Susan had access to his bare chest. She’d start rubbing his arms and chest and would eventually gently move his arms to his side. His little boner would more often than not pop straight out the pee slit in the pjs. He’d move to hide it and Susan would correct him telling him to just leave it alone and that she’d seen penises before. He started just letting it stick out while she did her thing. Though her hand would bump the stiffy on occasion there was no obvious attention to it. She didn’t grab it, she didn’t rub it, she just bumped it with the side of her hand as she did surrounding areas.

I think she was aware of my glances and avoided playing with his hard-on to signal me that she wasn’t interested in touching penises. She wanted me to think she could care less about those parts. And, she was a bit successful. I really began thinking there was no intent on her part to accost us. That said, I was still too shy to allow her access to the front of my body during her massages.

Susan would finish her work on Timmy and sometimes he’d put the shirt back on and sometimes he wouldn’t. As she’d pull my legs across her lap, I’d continue to roll over still keep my shirt on and let her access my legs and backside. Yes, I really came to enjoy the light finger nail tickle she’d do to my butt cheeks. She rubbed my back over my shirt and move on. Eventually she began sliding her hand under the shirt and doing my back directly.

That first time she slid her hand under there I kept silent and mentally negotiated with myself. I’d allow her to rub my back but not bare it. Midway through my tenth year, Susan would slide my pajama shirt up so it was bunched at my shoulders. Two or three of those sessions and I had been desensitized to removing it altogether.

Shortly after my eleventh birthday, I started thinking about how I might introduce my penis and scrotum to Susan. I liked planning it. The horny feeling I got plotting it was very reinforcing. I eventually decided to take the leap and provide a partial “accidental” sneak peek event. If thinking about it was that pleasurable I could only imagine how much more it would be to make it happen.

It was a Friday in October, of my eleventh year. Mom and Dad had to go to some kind of gathering of people from Dad’s office. They left us with Susan at about four o’clock in the afternoon. As was the habit back then, when Timmy or I returned from playing, Susan would send us to take a shower and get dressed for bed. Boys were always first. It’s some kind of scheduling designed by Mom. She used to say we boys sweat more than our sisters and we should be sent to wash the stink off before dinner. Kathy (almost 8 at the time) and Becky (6) took their showers or baths while Timmy and I helped Susan clean up the kitchen after dinner.

The plan I was eager to try involved me nonchalantly sitting on the couch with the fly of my pajamas pushed opened with a clear view of my penis. Only problem was I hadn’t counted on the ensuing erection. It was to make such a move practically impossible to hide. While Susan was putting the finishing touches on the counters in the kitchen, I sat in an uncustomary cross-legged style on one end of the couch. That bad boy was as hard as I could ever remember it.

Timmy was seated at the other end of the couch and completely engrossed in an episode of Leave It to Beaver, or some such show. I could feel my heart beat, my breathing was heavier than usual, and as I said my penis was hard as a tree limb. As I opened the fly making a small “o” shaped opening, my now four inch pecker poked straight out. The circumcised knob felt like it was going to pop off the end. It was too much of a show to be convincing as accidental. I pushed it back under the flimsy cotton covering and routed it down one of the legs. Pulling the hem up toward my groin revealed an inch or inch and a half of the throbbing phallus. Putting hands in my lap partly to act nonchalant and partly to keep my penis in place I sat there anticipating Susan’s entry. I tied to focus my attention on the TV to give further evidence it was an “accidental” showing. I stared, but as I indicated earlier, I couldn’t tell you what we were watching. I was too horny from the situation I’d set up.

The girls were both upstairs getting ready for bed, Susan stopped at the foot of the stairs to holler up some last minute instructions. Timmy was still into the television program. I was sitting there on the couch wrestling with myself as to whether to follow through or retract my appendage before she came into the living room. Too late for that, in she came. That little pecker head was “peeking out” from under the leg of my pjs. My hand was holding the shaft down through the thin fabric as I stared ahead anxiously awaiting Susan to note my revelation.

She plopped down between Timmy and me and at that point hadn’t really noticed my exhibition. I watched out of the corner of my eye she put her hand on my knee. Still hadn’t really looked. Then it happened. I noted a change in the position of her hand and was aware she was looking down at my penis. She didn’t say a word. Just kept her hand on my upper leg. She’d look away and then casually turn to look down at my penis. She gently massaged my inner thigh not a couple inches from my exposed glans, but she never touched it. To this day I think she felt doing so would startle me into immediately covering up and it probably would have. We sat there for at least fifteen minutes. Me with my penis exposed and kind of hoping she’d slide her hand up and tickle it too and at the same time wanting to put it under the cover of my shorts.

Becky came in carrying a brush for her after-shower grooming session with Susan. She walked to her and broke the situation wide opened. “Jack, your wiener is showing.”

Acting shockingly surprised, Susan withdrew her hand and made an obvious look at it. Simultaneously, I slid the leg of my shorts down over the tip and tried to act engaged in the program on the TV. I didn’t have to act embarrassed, I was. Susan shifted her attention to Becky’s hair.

The feeling of being exposed was so overwhelming to me, I spent the rest of that night staging “accidental” expositions. I’d stand up and stretch hoping my little friend would peek out the fly opening on its own. I found the more I mentally planned such things the harder my penis would get. On at least two stretches, it did pop out. I began turning toward Susan when I’d stretch wanting her to see it. She didn’t say a word. She just continued rubbing Timmy’s half naked body. She’d have the back of his pajamas pulled down fully exposing his milk white globes. But her eyes would switch from that sight to center on my fly in case my bird would fly the coop during those dramatic yawns and stretches. Peter didn’t disappoint. Two out of three times, he’d pop his plump little head and about two inches of the shaft that it adorned out the fly.

Becky and Kathy were glued to the idiot box as usual and were completely unaware of the show I was putting on behind them.

That night was the first time Susan, without asking, bared my bottom to tickle it, like she did to Timmy. I felt it was necessary to object with a “Hey” and half-heartedly tried to pull them back up. She decided to tease me by pulling them back down fully exposing my cheeks. After three such transactions I left them down. Truly, the slight coolness their exposure provided and the direct contact of her fingers and hand felt amazingly better. After all these years, I can still remember it. I think she liked it too. My butt cheeks got more attention that time than they ever had and my legs went lightly tended.

She asked again if I’d roll over so she could do the front of my legs. Even though I’d taken a major step that night, I still wasn’t quite ready to do that. My penis was stiff and throbbing and I was horny as hell, but I wasn’t ready to put that bad boy at her mercy. She finished up my leg and back massage and pulled the elastic waist back into place. I just lay there with my shins across her lap hoping my appendage would return to a softer state.

Damned if I didn’t plan more “accidental” exposures, though. The more I longed for Susan’s attention to my taboo body parts, the surer I was my penis wasn’t going relax. I finally made the move and rolled over. When I did, the fly naturally opened, but my still erect penis stayed sheltered. I covered that fact by strategically placing both hands on my groin.

At nine o’clock Susan sent Becky and Kathy off to bed. Timmy would be sent at nine thirty. On weekends, when I wasn’t entertaining a sleepover, I was allowed to stay up until ten. I rarely stayed that late on nights Susan sat. I’d usually go up with Timmy. We shared a room and would talk until we both faded off. That night, I decided to give it the full go. After Timmy went up, Susan went to the kitchen to get us a snack and a drink. While she was gone I staged one final exposure. It was a carbon copy of the initial one—stiff penis poking out from under the hemline of the pajama bottoms. This time she noticed before she sat down, but again didn’t say a word. As we sat there snacking and drinking a soft drink she again put her hand on my inner thigh, but this time the side of her hand pressed against the exposed tip of my penis. Neither of us made a move to note the position. She never engulfed it though. Just sat there pressing her hand against it.

So as to maintain some credibility, I eventually pulled the leg of my shorts down to cover it. She abruptly moved her hand without a word.

The exposure game continued for a couple more of her sitting events. I think it was during the third she made the same remark to me that she made to Timmy. I could just leave it out, if it exposed itself. She’d seen lots of naked little boys. I wasn’t ready for that. I had to continue the sham that it was accidental. I still let her pull my pajama bottoms down to massage my butt cheeks though. Incredibly it had become so normal, my sisters paid no attention to our naked backsides as Susan tickled them with her finger tips. One would have thought it would have come up during a debriefing with Mom, but nope, never did.

It was after that third penis exposure evening that I was confronted by my parents. Apparently, Susan had explained my penchant for exposure and she had told them she believed they were definitely planned incidents.

Susan told Mom and Dad that she thought I was exposing myself on purpose. She said it was happening a little too often to truly be accidental. She told them about Timmy’s penis being erect and sticking out the fly but honestly attributed it to the massages she gave him. She told them those showings were not accidental.

She said she’d observed me shifting the legs and fly of my pajamas into positions that she was sure were meant to expose my genitals. I know this because Mom told me when she and Dad discussed the matter with me. Of course, back then I denied it.

During the discussion with them, Mom told me Susan was noticing that my penis was “leaving the nest” more often when she babysat. She said it’d never done that in the two years prior, just recently. She wasn’t angry just direct. Dad just sat there as social support I guess. I tried to defend myself by saying it didn’t happen that often and I really couldn’t help it. She ignored the argument. She made the remark it was funny that it was just happening now after all those other years without an accident.

I was ready for instructions to start putting briefs on under the pajama bottoms. It never came.

Dad gently remarked what I already had been taught. It was okay for boys my age to be exposed in mixed audiences, but I was rapidly approaching an age when my exposure would be limited to those of my same gender. He too had to rub in the “still just a little boy” thing I found to be loving but annoying as well.

Mom picked up from there telling me she was completely in agreement with Susan’s situation with Timmy. He didn’t seem to mind being exposed when Susan was there so it was fine for him to leave his boy parts exposed. Until then, I didn’t know she was aware of what was going on with Timmy.

She said for him, exposing himself was innocent. Penises and testicles were just a body part and boys could and should feel comfortable with them “just like a hand, a finger, legs and such”. For me, she surmised I was wrestling with my unnatural modesty.

She told me that Susan mentioned that I’d finally allowed her to pull the back of my pajama pants down so she could tickle my bare butt. One would think that would make flags go up for parents. But, no it was perfectly okay for Susan to do that.

Then I asked a question that kind of pissed my Dad off. I asked why the girls didn’t get the same attention from Susan. He was quick to say they were girls and the rules were different. To that Mom offered the oft quoted, “If God wanted little girls to expose their special parts, He’d have put them on the outside like he did for boys.”

Then Dad asked why I was so shy about taking my shirt off so Susan could rub my back and chest. I told him I didn’t like exposing my chest. Out came the “unmanly” remark. Mom praised my “trim” frame and great looking legs and told me I shouldn’t be shy about exposing either. Dad told me he wanted me to go shirtless inside and out for the following few days. No shirt for any reason for three days, more if needed. What made that a bit uncomfortable was we were in the throes of winter in New Hampshire. Shirtless was going to be kind of cold. Mom moderated allowing that I could wear a sweater or coat while I was outside, just no shirt. And both were adamant that from then on when Susan watched us I was to take my shirt off for her massages. In fact, that very night Mom made me strip to my pajama shorts so she could tickle my back and chest. Of course, she did my legs front and back too, but neither of those things cause my penis to stiffen. It was my mother doing it.

It wasn’t two weeks later Susan was again called upon to take care of us from mid-afternoon until late evening. Mom and Dad were going Christmas shopping and the girls still believed in Santa Claus. Both Timmy and I were told on that particular day to shower and put on our night attire at four o’clock. Way early, but we learned never to question Mom and Dad’s mandates in such matters as it might lead to painful results.

I wanted very much to plan some exposure accidents for Susan, but it was obvious that jig was up. Too soon after the parental conference to try any of that.

Just before they left, Dad called Timmy and me aside. He told us if Susan wanted to do the massages we were to allow her to remove our pajamas if she wanted to. And, I was to allow her to do both my back and front. It was emphatic. Timmy asked about his sisters being there. I guessed he was finally developing some self-consciousness. The response kind of floored me but was expected. “They’re your sisters. You boys can have no secrets from them. Your mother and I will take care of questions or problems with them. You just do as you’re told.”

Susan came in without any hint that she’d been given any feedback about my exposure. But as the night progressed it was apparent she had discussed it with Mom and Dad.

The girls went up to bathe together. Susan called me to the couch so she could massage me. I went to the couch acting like things were normal. Then she told me to take off my shirt. I was immediately taken aback as it was delivered more as an order than the usual request. I knew I had no choice. If I didn’t do it, I was sure Dad would settle it with his belt, especially after his new stricter instructions delivered before he left.

Slowly I unbuttoned the top and discarded it to the floor next to the couch. Susan patted her lap indicating she wanted my legs across hers. I lay front down and she began her rubbing. She got to my backside and paused momentarily to pull the waist down to expose my cheeks. I was then erect, but used to the maneuver. She stopped when she’d cleared both globes. There was a pause, and I remember it like it was yesterday, she said, “You know what? Lets just take them off so I don’t have to work around them.” And she pulled those shorts down and off before I could respond. I was totally nude and was so speechless I was unable to lodge a protest. Dad’s words echoed in my head and I found myself weighing the situation against the parental expectations. I looked up to see Timmy sporting a look of disbelief. Without a further word Susan began her massage.

Talk about erections, I was as stiff as ever. Though I was front side down, I could feel my penis pressing hard against the couch cushion while Susan freely accessed my naked backside. That night she even pushed my legs apart a bit so she could include inside my crack.

My head raced as I pondered what I would do if she insisted on me rolling over. I hadn’t done that in prior sessions.

A half hour later, my sisters bounded into the living room, immediately noting their big brother was naked as the day he was born. Becky inquired as to my state of dress and Susan frankly answered it was easier to massage me while I was naked. Becky was astute enough to state, “I bet he doesn’t like that.” Both girls drank in the sight and then plopped down on the floor to watch TV.

They weren’t to look back at me until the dread command from Susan. “Okay now roll over so I can do the front.” That got Becky and Kathy’s attention. That apparently was going to be more interesting than the programming they had been watching. After all they’d get to see their big brother’s penis and testicles.

I tried to avoid doing so. “No that’s okay. That was enough. Just let me have my bottoms back.”

Susan was adamant. She insisted on doing the front of my body. She even slapped my bare ass hard and repeated her command. At that point all three siblings were mesmerized awaiting my next move. While I pondered it, she slapped my ass again and more forcefully repeated her order. She actually started pressing against my hip in an effort to manually change my position. I placed my right hand over my penis and scrotum and rolled over.

All eyes in the room were on me. Susan acted indignant as she pushed my hand away freeing my longer than average erect penis. I felt the blood flow of embarrassment in my face. Susan had never seen my total package and my sisters hadn’t at any time I could remember. Timmy only caught sight of it when timing in the bedroom was off and he’d barge in while I was changing. But now, “there were no secrets”.

Susan started with my abdomen. I wasn’t surprised. As her flattened palm circled around my navel and pubis I anticipated her eventual move to my penis and scrotum. She bumped the base of the penis as she continued in that area, but she never contacted the shaft or glans nor did she massage my ball purse. I was thrown off balance by that. I remember thinking that maybe she wasn’t into what I suspected motivated her. From the looks on the faces of my brother and sisters they too were a bit perplexed as to why she hadn’t at least engulfed my erection.

Becky walked over on her knees and stationed herself even with my groin to watch Susan work my body. Susan talked with her a bit but didn’t mention my body or nakedness. She gave a justification for boys needing to be massaged when they were Timmy and my age. She added the dread, “and boys don’t have any right to hide their boy parts. They should be made to be naked so we girls can examine what they have there.”

With that she bent my left leg so the knee was cocked and my genitals were more exposed (and accessible). I felt vulnerable. Add to that Becky’s face was so close to it, I could actually feel her breathing as it bounced off my penis.

After what felt like hours of that, Susan told me to shift over so my butt was in her lap. As I complied my legs went over my still pajama clad brother. He jumped up and took a place on the floor facing us. Susan began lightly tickling my arms and chest. Again, she returned to the abdomen. Then, that little shit, Becky, asked why she didn’t do my “wiener” too. Susan responded by telling her that “little” boys were very shy about people seeing and touching their penises and that she had to work up to doing that slowly.

With that she grabbed my penis and rubbed it up and down buffing the glans as well. I couldn’t look. I acted unaware of her fondling. I just kept watching the television as she worked my scrotum and rearranged its contents. Becky’s attention continued to be glued to my penis. From the beginning her eyes were at most six from my pelvis watching Susan do her thing.

I had mixed emotions. I was thoroughly humiliated having to allow her to manhandle my goods, but I loved the feeling as well. All the modesty I’d internalized over the years pushed for me to object, but what I biologically felt was very stimulating.

My trance was broken as Susan said, “You want to rub him for a while, Becky?”

There was no verbal response, just the feel of a small hand encircling my penis. She eventually explored my scrotum and was guided by Susan to feel each testicle. I remember thinking then, and now when we reminisce about her introduction to my boyhood, why she never moved to another part of my body with her massage. At least Susan did the complete body. (Today, Becky comically recollects that she just let Susan do the warm ups.)

After regularly looking back at what was going on, Kathy decided to join the fray and line up for her turn. She was given a fifteen minute stint for feeling my goods as well. Add to that, Timmy being offered the opportunity which he didn’t take. I think at nine he was concerned about how “gay” that would be.

Timmy was next. Susan made him stand in front of her as she personally stripped him. He too was sporting a dowel rod in the genital area. Guess my predicament got him there. He usually waited for Susan to start her massage for it to go hard, but not that night.

After she’d finished stripping Timmy, I rooted around the couch cushions looking for my shorts. Susan informed me I wouldn’t need them until it was time to go to bed. She literally told me I had to stay naked until that time. No shirt and no pants. I was also cautioned not to hide my boy parts from view. I was to sit with my legs spread or lay on my side or back for the rest of the evening.

I captivated watching as Susan tickle Timmy’s bare backside and legs and eventually roll him over and attend to his hard mast. My erection was maintained by the thought that I might also get a chance to play with my brother’s naked body. Before that night, I’d never really given it much of a thought even when he presented himself naked. The TV was completely unattended. She finished her full body massage and invited each of my sisters to take a turn. What occurred to me was she only offered our front sides to the girls, but I guess backsides were pretty much the same for both genders and not nearly as interesting. Then she asked me if I would like to massage my little brother.

Truth is, I was quick to take advantage of him at Susan’s invitation, and I chose to overlook any “gay” accusations that might result and eagerly participated. At eleven, I couldn’t resist taking a turn stimulating Timmy’s penis and testicles. I felt an indescribable interest in feeling his junk. So, I did. I mean he was my brother so what was the harm. He didn’t object.

He too had to remain nude until bedtime.

After all that we all went back to watching TV. Both of us boys were sitting with our legs spread or cross legged and maintained our erections even though fondling had stopped. After we returned our attention to the television, Susan rounded up snacks for us. There was a triumphant air about her as she glanced back to remind us to sit so our penises were always showing, before disappearing to the kitchen.

The following morning, we gathered for breakfast. Mom asked the four of us how the evening before went for us. Curiously, she never asked that before.

Becky couldn’t wait to unload. “Susan took Timmy and Jack’s pajamas all they way off to do those boy massages. They had to stay naked all night even after the massages were over. Susan let Kathy and me help massage them and we got to feel their boy things.”

I guess I was looking for more of a questioning look from Mom, but she just kept up the conversation as all that stuff was normal. At least Becky didn’t mention I had felt my brother package too. That would have been embarrassing for me and probably would have angered Dad had he found out.

But Mom just filled the juice glasses as she asked, “Did you like that Becky? Do you have any questions?”

The kid just responded with yes she liked it and no she didn’t have any questions. Kathy was a bit embarrassed by the conversation and kept quiet until Mom asked her the same questions. She responded similarly but with less enthusiasm.

Then we boys were questioned, “How about you boys. Did it bother you? Do you have any questions?”

Timmy said it wasn’t too bad and no he didn’t have any questions. I, on the other hand told my mother it was embarrassing and I hated it. My only question was if we had to let Susan do that to us. I wasn’t really pissed, but, then again, I felt the need to pretend I was. Somewhere inside my naughty angel was saying “be careful, she might tell Susan not to do that anymore”. I hoped she would, but I hoped she wouldn’t too.

When Dad came down Mom filled him in on the conversation he’d missed. I don’t know what was there to smile about but smile and chuckle he did. He made some comical remark to the girls that they got to know a side of their brothers they hadn’t known before.

That was the morning my whole world was set on end. Dad announced that from then on, when Susan watched us, both of us boys had to be and remain completely naked until the next morning. We were to participate in any activities she planned, and, if we felt we were being abused, to save it and tell him the next morning. He followed that up with, “Jack you’ve got to get over this shyness, and Timmy maybe with this new rule, you won’t develop it.”

I argued it. He just held up his index finger as to say “enough” and repeated it. “No pajamas, no nothing at least until you’re thirteen. When you’re thirteen we’ll discuss it again. That’s the rule!”

For the next year or so things went as they had that first night. Only difference was Timmy and I had to strip naked upon Susan’s arrival and that undressing was supervised by Dad. He’d make it clear we were to obey Susan and any straying would be taken care of the following morning with his belt. Both of us knew it wasn’t an idle threat.

The only glitch came near the beginning of my twelfth year. Susan invited some friends to join her while she watched us. The girls who came were more than upfront about the fact they wanted to have some time with the two naked boys. My parents didn’t care. Years later I was to learn that Dad did put some restrictions on what those girls could do to Timmy and me. He told them to feel what they wanted as much as they wanted but forbade them to expose themselves or make any oral contact with out genitals.

I can’t say they violated either of the restrictions, but more than once my glans was kissed by one or the other of them. I still wonder how they resisted engulfing our immature penises. Perhaps it was Susan’s watchful eye and her concern of losing the privilege of keeping us naked, or maybe it was her friends’ fear of what Dad would do to them if he ever found out they’d broken the rules.

One of those girls found a way around Dad’s rules. She was bolder than Susan and started suggesting some kinky stuff to my sisters. Things like telling Becky that boys hated it when someone licked their penises. Or actually explaining to her how she could suck on my testicles and take my penis in her mouth.

I objected as Becky did the act. The instigator told Becky to punish my objection by biting my penis. I can tell you she chomped down just below the glans so hard I thought he was going to bite it off. I screamed half in fear and half in pain. My hard penis was immediately freed. With tears in my eyes, I examined the temporary bite mark indented on the shaft. Hand it to Susan, she got upset and made it clear there would be no more oral contacts with our penises or testicles.

After two or three such visits, all that oral stuff got reported. Timmy and I just thought it was within permissible activities and our parents would just side with Susan. I think my sisters were afraid of telling for fear it was something Mom and Dad would find to be taboo.

When it did come out, Becky told Mom and Dad she didn’t see what was wrong with it. “Nobody got hurt.” And that she liked doing it to us. Karen didn’t participate in that stuff, but, in the end, she got lectured as well. Mom and Dad were adamant that touching was one thing, even exploring our anuses with objects though not recommended would have been acceptable, but oral stuff was absolutely out of the question.

Susan never invited her friends to join her after that.

We later found out Dad had distinctly drawn the line with the older girls and such behavior was not within the range of acceptance.

Just as I was adjusting to my genitalia becoming playthings for Susan, things got a bit stickier. As I said, Mrs. Hallsworth, Susan’s mother, was a good friend of my mother. She and her husband owned a summer home of Otter Lake. We had been to the cottage for a day or two each summer. I liked it, the warm summer, the clear lake and smell of the pines made the place kind of magical. There was a dock below the cottage that jutted out into the lake. We kids would run off the end and plunge into the depths, swim to shore and repeat again and again.

The summer of my eleventh year, the Hallsworths were taking a grand tour of the West including Alaska in a rented RV. As a result, we got to spend the bulk of the summer in their lakefront home. Because the cottage was seventy miles from our homes, Dad would stay only on weekends. He’d drive down Friday evenings after work to join us for the weekend and return to his job on Monday mornings.

I don’t know if it was the Susan thing or just Mom’s idea, but Timmy and I ended up spending the bulk of the summer nude. We arrived at the cottage, Mom told us to go to our assigned bedroom and get undressed. She sorted out the girls swim attire and sent them off to their bedroom to change. Timmy and I were both in our underwear when Mom came in. She told both of us to take off our underwear and collected them while scooping up our discarded clothing from the floor. We stood before her naked as she reviewed the swimming rules.

Still a bit alarmed at being exposed in front of her, I held my hands over my still flaccid penis and scrotum. Timmy not so much. He stood there listening to but was hanging loose. She finished the review and told us to go on down to the lake. I kind of cleared my throat and nodded toward my mid-section indicating something was missing.

Talk about shock. She read the meaning of the nod and just told us we’d be naked for the whole stay. She meant 24/7, not just for swimming. The reasons cited were my abnormal modesty “for a boy” and Timmy’s need to avoid developing it. And, she added her interest in the photo opportunity it provided for her to remember her boys when they were young. I did note the change in the term “little” to “young”. That was much more acceptable, but the forced nudity was not.

To make matters worse, Mrs. Hallsworth and Susan were both there those first two days to help Mom get things set up. Their trip wasn’t starting until the middle of the following week.

Timmy and I were ushered into the hallway and led to the living area where our sisters waited and the Hallsworts were waiting. All I remember was Mrs. Hallsworth’s remark, “Oh they’re beautiful. Would you look at those peepees.” She’d already commented on our legs on many occasions, but this was the first time she got to see what made us boys. By her affirmative look at Susan I assumed we’d been described on many post kid watching assignments she’d had.

“I can honestly see why you want to keep them naked while they’re here, Mary Beth. They are perfect. That Jack is really endowed. Isn’t he?”

For the two nights both Susan and Mrs. Hallsworth were invited to do the massages. Our penises and scrotums were not neglected. So much for kid genitals not being of interest. Perhaps not for sexual reasons, but certainly for curiosity. Our sisters were free to join in the massage sessions after the Hallsworths were done, if they chose to do so. Surprisingly, they didn’t as often as you would expect. Becky did with some regularity, but Kathy not so much.

Mom clicked away with the camera. It was the days before digital imaging but photos of naked boys were no problem to get developed at any number of processing outlets. Penises, even with erections, and scrotums were not of any concern for folks to took them if the naked boys were hairless.

When Mom passed I went through her boxes of photos. Between birth and five or six, both Timmy and I were well represented in the naked collection. The girls had a few but not nearly as many. Then there were the photos of us in shorts, pajamas and dressed up. No nudes were there between six or so and that eleventh year. Then there was a glut of photos of Timmy and me naked at the lake that summer. In one in particular, Susan was supporting my erect penis and smiling at the camera. You could see the discomfort in my eyes. I mean she looked like she was displaying a trophy or something. Then there were a few of my sisters tending our stiff penises, and a shit load of Timmy and me swimming naked. I couldn’t help but notice the frontal shots far outnumbered the back shots.

There is one shot of me during that summer that intrigues me. I’m standing on the end of the dock and staring out at Timmy who is treading water twenty feet out. I have to say my tan line free physique was quite captivating for a boy my age. My legs were muscular and shapely, at least more than I noticed when I was a kid. I saw what commenting adults saw during my childhood. Just the sight of the physique was enough to rouse a little eroticism in even me. The reality was the penis side photos continued to embarrass me especially knowing Mom probably showed them to anyone whenever she got the chance.

Now the photos are mine. Becky and Kathy each took a few of the frontal shots of their brothers at the lake that year. And, yes, there were some showing our clearly erect penises. Tim took a couple prints of the gathered family with he and I squatting with legs spread or standing as ordered by the picture taker. We were posed specifically to highlight our penises hanging over our young ball sacks in all the group photos. Everyone was smiling but me.

I salvaged a few candid shots of we boys playing nude and a few reprints of the group. The rest I destroyed. I imagine sharing those I chose to keep with my future grandkids so they could see how it was for boys back then. I just don’t think I’ll be able to bring myself to actually show them. Who wants to see their grandfather nude? Even if it was when he was a kid?

(End of File)