The Seductor 1
By Running Bare
running_bare@posteo.de
Copyright 2018 by Running
Bare, all rights reserved
*
* * * *
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.
*
* * * *
As
a middle school physical education
teacher, I was responsible for teaching all the sixth grade boys and
half of
the seventh grade boys. Among my duties were to supervise the locker
room and
showers when the kids were present. I liked the job as I really enjoyed
seeing
my charges in their most vulnerable situations. I also became the go-to
authority
for parents who were concerned over their sons’ modesty levels. These
are among
my most memorable cases.
The
Seductor Part 1 – The Case of Bobby Turner Begins
By,
Running Bare
I
don’t know what it is that occurred in my first twenty-five years, but
for some
reason I developed an appreciation for seeing, photographing, and if
given the
chance, fondling naked young boys. I’m not drawn to all boys, only
those with
appealing faces atop a medium build and on the cusp of puberty—that
window
between nine and thirteen. It certainly gets my attention if their legs
are
somewhat meaty and athletically shaped. Shorts seasons are my favorite
time of
year, and, here at the school, gym classes are definitely a must see.
Living in
New Mexico there aren’t many non-shorts days during the year.
I
have further preferences. I like ‘em cut. But even there, I have to
refine my
appeal to those with clean cuts revealing large well shaped mushroom
heads.
One
of the other things that draws my interest is kids’ behavior. I like
the boys
who have natural curiosity and have an impulsivity that gets them into
mischievous situations. The kids with that glint of “I’m gonna do it
anyway” in
their eyes. These are also the challenging kids who don’t generally pay
attention during my instruction.
Maybe
the appeal comes from the fact that I do enjoy occasionally paddling
their
backsides for misbehavior. Sometimes, I think some of them, the ones I
described, try to find the line between chastisement and paddling. They
like to
push the limits. Unlike the classroom teachers and principal, I have
the
opportunity to bypass school board rules and usually paddle them before
or
after showers so I can plaster their bare asses.
All
of this “interest” subsides for me shortly after boys reach puberty.
Somewhere
I read a story entitled “When There’s Hair, No More Bare”, and I guess
that
summarizes my area of interest.
All
of that is probably why I majored in physical education at college.
It
was fortuitous to have landed my job here at the middle school. I am
required
by school rules to be present to monitor the sixth and half of the
seventh
grade boys as they dress out and shower before and after my classes.
It’s
required by the administration that I supervise the locker room when
students
are present. Like I
needed arm twisting.
I
have to supervise the boys as they strip naked, don their jocks, and
gym
clothes. I was able to sell the other coach and the administration on
the old
fashioned very short cotton shorts and t-shirts, by mentioning they
were much
less expensive and our parents could afford them without strapping
their family
budgets. The result? The shorts with the two-inch inseams show the
boys’ legs
from ankle to butt cheeks. During many activities the legs of those
shorts
slide up exposing their straps too.
I
know teachers aren’t supposed to have pets, but when you’re drawn to
the kids
like I am, it can’t be helped. It truly wouldn’t be difficult to make a
list of
the top twenty or so. One of the “challenges” for me is to observe
which of
them has difficult times changing and showering in front of their peers
or me,
and find ways to extend their naked times around the locker room.
Unfortunately,
the more mischievous boys aren’t usually very body shy. Now that would
definitely be a combination that would get me salivating. The good
looking,
devil may care kid who was shy about exposing himself to others. Talk
about
arousing. They don’t come along that often. But there are a few each
year who
have all the qualifications.
Though
I hardly feel myself a predator as I don’t really desire to have hard
sexual
relations with any kid, I do enjoy seeing them naked. I truly get my
jollies
from their embarrassment when they are fully exposed. I guess if you
put my
interest in light fondling and/or photographing them into the
definition of
“predator” I might be over the line, but I don’t think so. After all,
my
parents have photos of me nude from birth to age nine or ten--many
frontal--as
do other relatives and family friends, and even as I remember some
summer camp
counselors have some too. I’ll bet many of you have parents who have
childhood
photos of you naked as well.
I
must admit, during preadolescence fondling was a kid activity. Not that
adults
didn’t do it to kids, it was just easier to disguise as a justifiable
maintenance or hygiene necessity. Public or semi-public nudity on the
other
hand, had to be forced by adults in authority, and, when it was, I was
not a
willing participant.
Over
the past three years, I can vividly recall the boys who had
qualifications in
each of my areas of interest—good looking smiles, mischievous twinkles,
well-defined
penises, average builds, well-developed legs, devil may care attitudes
and a
strong aversion to being naked in front of others. Of all the other
teachers only
two of those descriptors were unique for me to know about a boy—his
penis
qualities and his attitude toward being naked. Unless, of course, you
were
visiting my locker room. The other qualifications were opened to any
interested
party as the boys traversed the hallways.
If
you consider “grooming” kids the official definition of predator, then
I might
fit the definition as well. But, what’s the difference between
“grooming” and
bribing a desired behavior? For example, putting up a backyard pool and
making
it a rule, as in old time more public pools and many family gatherings,
boys
have to swim naked. Let’s face it, forcing nudity is not rape and light
fondling is not necessarily foreplay. In my mind, it all depends one’s
end
goal.
Fair
analysis, my end goal is the sustained embarrassment of my target
(“victim”
seems too harsh a term), nothing more, nothing less. My game is finding
ways to
make it happen and forcing posed photo ops. The only “grooming” I do is
to
manipulate enticements and provide suggestive opportunities to achieve
that
goal. Enticements range from simple recommendations to threating
spanking for
non-compliance.
I
guess the only grooming I do is selling the parents on the concept of
the
importance of loosening some kid’s modesty level through forced nudity.
I’ve
never had contact with any kid where the parents haven’t been fully
apprised of
my end goals and why it would be good for their boy. I have always
provided
parents with research from scientific, medical, and psychological
journals to
support my interaction as well. Hey, maybe that’s it, I provide a
public
service—free therapy for body shy boys.
Humor
me. I prefer being described as a seductor rather than a predator. If
we can
agree to that, I can offer some vignettes of successfully targeted kids.
Take,
for example, Robert “Bobby” Turner. He was one of the sixth-grade boys
during
my first year of teaching. What a good-looking kid. He was a lady
killer. Most
of the girls in his class held a crush on the boy.
I
was in the office when Bobby’s mother enrolled him. Being drawn to the
boy’s
tanned and well-shaped legs showing below his above the knee shorts, I
was
smitten. We talked about what he’d need for P.E. classes—gym suit
available for
purchase in the school bookstore, a jock (embarrassed the kid and the
mother
both when I mentioned it), soap in a holder and a bath towel. Mom’s
response? “Oh,
they shower after class?”
My
answer? “Yes, good hygiene is a part of the curriculum. Besides, in a
year or
two, for him, it’ll kill any unwanted aroma that might interrupt the
concentration of other students.”
She
seemed both amused and thankful. We both laughed, not Bobby, though.
She turned
her back to her son and whispered, “He’s a little shy about things like
being
naked in front of others.” I just nodded and said, “If it continues, I
can help
him get over it. You or his dad can call me if you want my help.” She
seemed
truly thankful and I wasn’t to hear from her for the first quarter of
the year.
Bobby
became a target for me. Yep, I looked forward to that third period on
Tuesdays
and Thursdays. For a couple of reasons.
First,
the Tuesday and Thursday group came to classes for two-hour sessions.
The kids
who drew the Monday, Wednesday, Friday schedule were with me for an
hour and a
half and were then sent to a half hour study hall. Both would then
resume their
regularly scheduled hour-long class periods. The two-hour sessions
allowed me
to finish up early enough to extend locker room time and find reasons
to keep
the boys naked for an extra fifteen or twenty minutes. Usually, after they had shed
their gym clothing,
I’d call an “Oh yeah, I almost forgot...” meeting and call them all
together. Many
would coyly drape their towels in front to hide their boyhoods from
view, “Put
your towels over the benches and sit down on them. We need to go over
some
things.” Thirty completely naked boys were seated on the benches while
I went
over what was usually insignificant bullshit delivered just to
embarrass those
who were overly modest.
With
the sixth graders I’d often post myself at the entrance to the gang
shower and
do a quick “cleanliness inspection”. With my targets, I’d find some
reason to
send them back to the showers and watch them as they corrected the
problem. “Now
spend some time rubbing some lather on those boy parts.”
Mom
didn’t lie, Bobby, was definitely a shy eleven-year-old. What she
didn’t say
was the kid was hung like a pony. His penis was definitely longer than
the
average sixth grader, and, notably, it was cleanly pared. The girth of
his
penis and his sack were beginning to show his growth spurt, but in my
estimation, it’d be a year or two before body hair appeared.
He
carried his towel in front of himself and would hang it on the hook
outside the
shower as he quickly jutted in, turned on the shower, and closely faced
the
wall as he lathered up. I didn’t complain, I got a prolonged view of
his tight
slender ass for a minute or two. I was drawn to the cute little dimples
in each
cheek. I’d also imagine how much better the view would be without the
pesky old
tan lines. As my eyes scanned his well-tanned legs I’d be taken by the
shapely
claves and attractive knees.
He’d
rinse off, cup his appendage with his hand and quickly strut toward the
hook to
collect his towel.
On
cleanliness inspection days, I got a close up of the kid’s four-inch
flaccid
penis as it loosely hung over his maturing ball sack. Compliments to
the mohel/physician
whoever he/she was. In my mind I could only imagine that puppy at full
staff.
The
seven or eight boys in the group of thirty-two sought to minimize their
exposure time. For sure they were also on the radar of the more naked
comfortable
kids in their class. Some of them, Bobby included, were the brunt of
verbal
teasing by some of the more secure boys who openly flaunted their own
packages.
In Bobby’s case, they picked on his lengthier than average appendage,
using the
age old “Long Dong Silver” nickname.
The
more brash kids would often grab ass by snapping their towels at some
other
kid’s ass, or, on occasion, target their penis and balls. Thankfully,
the usual
target for the non-verbal attacks were on less modest boys. The shy
kids usually
got what Bobby was getting, the verbal assault and an occasional grab
and pull on
their penises, or a brief game of keep away with one of the shy kid’s
towels
while other boys blocked access to their lockers. The latter game would
often
end with the humiliated kid crying. I’d act pissed at the bullies, but
inside I
loved the embarrassment they caused.
Close
to the end of the first quarter Bobby’s parents asked for a conference.
The kid
was definitely muscular, had average coordination and was fulfilling
the class
requirements. He was on track for a solid B quarterly grade. They had
to want
to address his problem with his self-consciousness.
As
with most after school parent conferences, I suggested we meet in my
office. There
was a disclaimer though, especially if a mother was involved. “We can
meet in
my office, other than being a glass cube in the middle of the locker
room, it’s
a bit quieter than the conference room. I’d tell them the only
discomfort will
be the ambiance of dirty sweat socks (the very mention of which usually
provided
comic relief and lightened the moment) or an occasional nude preteen
changing
or showering. To which the adult female(s) would inevitably mention
they didn’t
want to embarrass any of the boys being there while they needed
privacy. I’d
reply, “They won’t see you but you’ll see them. It’s one-way glass. But
they’re
still just kids and they don’t need privacy. You’re a mom, and Mr.
Turner is a
guy as well as a father, so there’s no problem.”
Whenever
I met with parents in my office, which was almost always, I’d hope upon
hope
there were boys from some other class, or, in the case of after-hours
meetings,
some boys finishing up afterschool play in the gym showering, while we
met. Each
time, I purposely would position the female parents or teachers with
direct
visual access to the open shower area. Often parents in for a
conference would
be treated to naked students in the shower. Sometimes, I’d bang on the
window and
when the naked boy would turn around, I’d key the mike in my office and
deliver
some impromptu instructions over the locker room speakers. I’d tell
them I had
some parents in my office so I didn’t want to have to interrupt the
discussion to
come in there and paddle them. As intended, that would make even the
least
modest kid think about covering up.
Over
the years I’ve found folks who offer concern about the boys’ privacy
are a bit
disingenuous. On subsequent visits, especially with parents who’d been
given a
show on their prior visit, I’d often be reassured with, “It’d be fine
if we
meet in your office”, before I even offered the option. What does that
tell
you?
It
really wasn’t a surprise Bobby’s parents were concerned over the
teasing he got
in the locker room from some of the other boys. Empathetically, I
offered two
observations. First, few of the boys had such a difficult time with
nudity as
their son did. I reminded his mother that she’d warned me about it so I
made it
a point to watch the boy closely. Second, I would not tolerate any
bullying in
my classes or the locker room for any reason. Then I offered some
suggestions
aimed at both parents.
“I
couldn’t help but notice Bobby is ‘gifted’ in the male department. That
combined with his obvious body shyness probably was the window of
opportunity
for the bullying. In my mind, his ‘giftedness’ could easily become an
asset
rather than a liability, if he loses his inhibition about being naked.”
Dad
sat silently but nodding his acceptance of my interpretation of Bobby’s
behavior. Mom had a more perplexed look on her face. Momentarily, Dad
said, “I
told you making him wear something every minute he wasn’t in the tub
would
cause a problem. Didn’t I, Lucy? Hell, he thinks being naked any time
he isn’t
alone is immoral. Boys need to be told to stay naked sometimes. It’s
good for
them.”
I
broke in. “Well, we aren’t here to assess blame. Let’s look at it more
as a
problem we have to address rather than assess blame. There are some
things we
can do to work on it, but they aren’t going to be easy. First, Mom,
you’ve got
to realize boys and girls have different developmental needs when it
comes to
exposing their bodies. More often than not, boys who are allowed, no
encouraged, to be naked during their early years and develop modesty
naturally
don’t have this problem. When they are allowed to run naked when
they’re younger,
they are not as concerned about being seen naked by others when they’re
older.
Unfortunately,
our window to correct Bobby’s situation is almost closed. Puberty is
just
around corner for him, and if we don’t address the problem now it may
have an
unwanted effect on his sexual development.”
“What
do you suggest?” I think she was truly felt some guilt from her
husband’s
remark and had a sincere desire to correct Bobby’s shyness.
“Nudity
and lots of it. Find times for you or Dad, here, to walk in on him
while he’s
naked. Like the bathroom or his bedroom when he’s changing.
Unfortunately, the
Y has dropped what my Dad described as its long-enforced policy that
required
boys to swim naked with other boys. We can thank the change to coed for
that. Sending
him to the Y or Boys’ Club back then would have been a good way to end
Bobby’s
self-consciousness over time. Do you folks have a pool at home?”
“I
wish!” the dad laughed
I
hoped he had a sister for what I had in mind. “Does Bobby have any
siblings?”
“He
has a sister. She’s in high school.”
I
pictured my suggestion in my mind, “Force him to expose himself in
front of her
as well. Wouldn’t hurt to expand his horizons.”
“Really?
In front of Meagan?” Mom questioned.
“Yes,
and Meagan’s friends too, if you want quicker results.” With that I
felt a
little perverted, but what the hell I was on a roll. “And, for that
matter, when
his friends come over, too! Grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins.
The more
the merrier!”
I
think Mrs. Turner had mentally visualized that one. She grinned with a
certain
satisfaction that was peppered with doubt and question. Mr. Turner had
to rub
it in again, “If you’d been doing that years ago, he might have dodged
this
bullet.”
After
shielding the mother from his assault for the second time, I went on to
suggest
a few ways to accomplish our goal. First, I suggested Bobby be
encouraged to
come to the gym after school for additional coaching or pick-up
basketball.
I’d
insist on him showering and find reasons to delay him from getting
dressed. Then
I offered to bring him home with me, occasionally, for weekends so I
could work
with him on his swimming. I made it known to his mother and father,
that my
goal would be for him to spend the entire two or three days naked. He’d
find
out my wife and I had a “young boys swim naked” rule when using our
pool. Gradually,
I’d add less modest boys to the mix so he could get used to being naked
around
other naked kids. Finally, I’d invite some of the girls from the school
to drop
by in required bathing attire to swim with naked Bobby.
Mrs.
Turner was a bit hesitant. Mister seemed completely at ease with it.
As
we talked three boys entered the shower. They were all sixth graders
who’d been
using the basketball courts. All three were naked as the day they were
born and
began showering. It interrupted our conversation momentarily as Mrs.
Turner
impulsively remarked, “Oh how cute!”
As
both watched the little penises and bare asses of kids they didn’t
know, I
presented what I considered the touchiest intervention. If I was going
to lose
Mr. Turner, it’d be here. I suggested while Bobby was naked, one or
both of
them should massage his body from head to toe both front and back. As I
explained the procedure, I tried to minimize the opposition. I stressed
(but hoped
they’d ignore me) when they started the process they should spend just
minimal
time on his penis and testicles. Just passing quick contacts as they
tracked
their hands over Bobby’s penis and scrotum. When dealing with his
backside to
be more attentive and aggressive. I told them that eventually they
would add more
contact time to his genital stimulation. I also warned them to be
non-judgmental
about his erections and assured them there’d be erections. Obviously,
we wanted
to do this before his prostate started doing it’s thing.
“I’m
a bit uncomfortable about that last part.” Mister was ‘awakened’.
“I
know it kind of flies in the face of social correctness, but if you
want him to
accept his boy parts, you have to show him you have accepted them.
Matter-of-factly
including his penis, scrotum and anal areas takes away a whole lot of
the
‘specialness’ adults have historically assign those parts. The massage
is meant
to make him realize they’re just a part of the whole of his body.
Obviously
once the boy has gone through puberty, such attention will become
difficult. So,
times a wastin’, if you intend on addressing his problem. I’m doing all
I can
here at school. I often send him back to the showers after a quick
visual scan
of his naked body just to ‘take a proper shower’ but really it’s
intended to
extend his nudity.” I continued, “You know if being naked in front of
the other
boys is a problem because of the size of his boy parts, making him more
comfortable with being naked will take away what apparently reinforces
the
other boys’ bullying. Kind of says, ‘Damned right! If you had what I
have,
you’d be proud of it, not embarrassed by it.”
Then
I did something I’d either regret, or, if it worked out the way I
anticipated,
celebrate. I picked up the phone and invited the school psychologist to
my
office. It was a long shot that she’d be able to support our
intervention. Actually,
Julie was a grad student at my college and graduated with her master’s
degree
as I finished my bachelors. I was betting her relative newness to
counseling might
work in my favor. After all, if what I’d outlined was promoted by both
of us
the Turners would be more at ease.
After
Julie arrived, I introduced her to the Turners. Her interest in my
three little
naked sixth graders was apparent before she even sat down. “Boy that
little
Timmy Summerville is literally all boy isn’t he?” That was a quick
reference to
the penis of one of the bathers who was less timid about exposing
himself. We
all watched as he soaped up his appendage no more than ten feet from
the
window.
As
Julie renewed his interest in the boys, Mr. Turner questioned his wife,
“Geeezzzzz,
could you imagine Bobby that comfortable?”
I
chuckled, “Relax that kid is completely oblivious to us being here.”
“I
guess you’re right. If he really cared, he’d have checked to see who
was in here
first!” Mr. Turner was on track and I wasn’t going to complain. I did
want to
bang on the office window so the kid might suffer a little
embarrassment when
he found out he was being watched, but I controlled my impulse.
I
went over Bobby’s problem with Julie. Mr. and Mrs. Turner embellished
points as
I outlined the situation and what I’d suggested. Actually, I had a bit
of
training with this in my undergrad studies of child development so I
wasn’t
totally ignorant of the psychology behind it. Julie agreed with me
about
forcing the nudity in gradual doses. Where she took pause was with the
massage
suggestion. After stumbling a bit, I offered my understanding of the
parent-child attachment process and how the research coming out on
child
massage was very convincing. She of course had to challenge me on the
fact that
most of it was on kids who hadn’t reached their preteen years. But
surprisingly
she submitted that just because she knew of no studies with kids
Bobby’s age it
didn’t mean it was counter indicated. She ended her argument with, “If
we go
that way, if Bobby becomes more belligerent when his genitals are
involved, the
Turners should come in and discuss it before pushing the idea further.”
I
was good with her cautions about the massage, but they were a
voyeuristic high
for me. Just imagining the kid undergoing a full body massage by his
mother
and/or sister was very arousing. Add to that the acceptance of him
spending
time swimming nude at my home ignited my anxiousness to get the show on
the
road.
Julie
asked, “How do you intend to get him to shed his clothing when he
visits your
house?” The question definitely caught the parents’ interest.
“Gradually.
I’m going to bait him with the pool, force the nudity, and move on to
deny him
clothing for short periods at other times. As he becomes more
accustomed to Lana
and me seeing him naked, I’ll begin to introduce other observers.”
“Do
you intend to touch him in the genital area?”
“If
the time presents itself, I will massage him as I’d described to his
parents. I’ll
let Lana do it too if she wants to help.”
“You’re
leaving yourself wide opened for accusations of inappropriate contact
if you do
that. I’d think real long and hard on that before I did something like
that. We
aren’t a massage oriented society, especially when it involves adult
males and
little boys.”
The
first sign of parental acceptance came from Mrs. Turner, “What if we
sign some
kind of agreement that outlines our full understanding and acceptance
of him or
his wife doing it? George and I would never file a complaint anyway,
but that
might add some legitimacy for him to do it.”
“It’s
still a little risky. He’s a teacher.” She paused as she stared at the
eleven
or twelve-year-old under the showers. She’d deny that’s what she was
attending
to, but it was pretty apparent. Her hardened stare caused us to look
that way
too, so we knew what caught her attention. Then she continued, “What if
it got
out in the community. People who don’t understand the innocence or the
reason
for doing it could muddy the waters for him. He could lose his job or
worse his
teaching license. It’s up to you, but I’d go at it slowly and very
deliberately.
Maybe you should run it by Mr. Lund (our principal). The more people
who know
the whys and wherefores before you start, the less likely it’ll end up
biting
you.”
I
was adamant, “Suppose we use the Jacobson study from a few years back
to
support the idea? What he and his cohorts found was massaging boys who
participated in sports significantly improved their overall performance
quick
than using coaching alone. Though it had nothing to say about body
shyness, it
had a lot to say about body awareness. And, those massages were given
to nude
boys eight to fifteen years of age. And, those were even done by women
unknown by
the boys or their parents.”
As
the parents sat silently, Julie’s opinion moved my way at the mention
of the
study. “That might be your best avenue. You could suggest it was a
preliminary
single case trial for a study you were planning. It could be announced
as such
and it’d certainly ‘keep the dogs at bay’. I still think you need to be
open
about it with Mr. Lund, the school board, and perhaps an article in the
local
paper highlighting the whats and wherefores.”
We
were interrupted by Mr. Turner. “You never told us about that Jacobson
study. I
think it would have really helped me avoid the misgivings I had growing
inside.
It kind of makes it a feasible possibility for Bobby and might even
give us a
reason to offer him when he objects. That study makes me much more
agreeable. Do
you have a copy of it?”
Talk
about solidifying a plan. I offered to copy copies of the journal
article
before they left. As I looked up at Mrs. Turner’s gaze, I turned to see
three
nude boys showering. In a moment of celebration, I knocked on the glass
and I
keyed the mike to the locker room speakers and told the boys to make
sure the
showers were turned off before they left. As they turned to attend to
my
announcement. I told them I was in the middle of a meeting in my office
with
Miss Wilkerson and some parents so they’d have to make sure things were
shut
off. Two of the three immediately shielded their penises with their
hands, the
third continued soaping his chest fully exposing his still hairless
package to
the viewers. I keyed the mike again, “Oh, put your hands down. We’ve
all seen
young boys’ penises before. Just make sure the showers are ALL off
before you
get dressed. Hey, I said put your hands down.”
They
dropped their hands exposing their hairless hard sausages. One was
slowly
erecting. The two others didn’t seem to be bothered. I used the
observation to
note, “See, most boys Bobby’s age are not really that shy.”
I
thumbed through my file cabinet and retrieved the article I’d
referenced and
took it to my printer. We continued to talk as I ran three copies, one
for each
party involved. As the copies spit out of the machine, I couldn’t help
but
notice the women were still watching the soon to be teens as they
finished
their showers. The boy who never seemed to lose his comfort level still
soaping
his still flaccid penis and balls and the other two sporting three or
four inch
erections trying to act unaware as they faced the wall rather than the
window
of my office. I wanted to go into the shower and forcefully turn them
toward
the window just to add to their embarrassment.
“That’s
how we’ll do this with Bobby. He’s going to be a single case study
based on
Jacobson that we’ll use this study to initiate a full blown study of
our own. Julie,
you will have to find someone at a higher academic level to help us set
this
thing up.”
I
liked the idea as it would definitely make it easier to sell Bobby on
participating. I wasn’t naïve enough to think the boy would magically
change
his feelings about his body, but I did think making him feel “chosen’
would
make such things a bit easier to broach. His parents seemed to agree.
How
special would he feel? Only time would tell.
We
decided to meet with Bobby as a group to introduce the concept of
improving his
motor ability with massage and “other methods”. I purposely avoided
telling the
eleven-year-old he’d be required to be naked for extended periods
during the
study. Doing so would definitely have slammed the door on much of his
cooperation.
One
of the side effects of the study for me is that it definitely took away
some of
the horniness I felt prior to legitimizing what his parents and I
planned to do
with the kid. Hopefully, when it came down to that moment of revelation
to the
boy, he’d rebel enough to bring some arousal back to me. I knew it
would serve
to arouse him a great deal. The more oppositional he was the better for
me.
Mr.
Turner asked how I intended to get him naked for that first weekend at
my home,
especially if my wife Lana was there too. My response made Julie
cringe, put
Mrs. Turner on a mild defensive and seemed to satisfy her husband. I told them I’d bring up the
rule that boys
under fourteen had to swim nude at our house and he would be swimming.
When he
objected I’d try to reason with him that we’d all seen naked boys and
that I’d
seen him naked at school every time he had P. E. I’d wait until Lana
was off to
the supermarket that first time to temporarily temper his
embarrassment, but
none the less he’d have to strip. If that didn’t work, I’d threaten him
with a
paddle. I lied a bit telling them I hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
Secretly, I
enjoyed busting boys’ bottoms, especially bare bottoms, with that well
fashioned tool. Watching the milk white globes turn various shades of
pink was
quite reinforcing to me.
Julie,
ever the psychologist, posed the question as to how I was going to
introduce
touch to his penis and scrotum. I
told
her I’d wait until he was stretched out for the massage and would
“groom” that
with passing rubs to what I’m sure would be a hard-on. Eventually, I’d
just
grab it and rub without fanfare, occasionally moving down to his
scrotum. I
also insisted I wouldn’t concentrate on it but make it a passing
contact. I knew I
would eventually shelve that whole
passing idea and spend considerable attention to that item. It’d been
my
experience once my prior “victims” had experienced dry orgasms, they
tended to
completely drop their guard. They’d spread their legs in anticipation
of that
moment of pleasure. They, to a boy, were more compliant to my command
to take
off their clothes after a few sessions of such pleasures.
The
problem was, those kids became less guarded around me, but weren’t able
to
generalize being naked in front of others. I was hoping having Lana
there to
watch and perhaps participate in the massages. I’d increase the time of
required nudity and number of observers. Finally have the parents
reinforce the
“therapy” at home. Bobby couldn’t help but lower his anxiety over being
naked
before anyone. Only time would tell.
Long
story short, Julie and I both approached the principal with the whole
research
proposal. He was skittish about it to say the least and decided to pass
it off
to the superintendent. The superintendent, with about the same level of
apprehension, forwarded it to the school board for consideration. All
three
entities had no problem with the premise of the research, it was the
whole body
massages that gave them pause. I carefully avoided including the forced
nudity
aspect when describing the methodology to all three.
Mrs.
Bolton, one of the Board members, was exceptionally helpful to the
cause. At
the meeting she relayed similar concerns with her own ten-year-old son.
She
made me promise, if approved, I would coach her on methods of building
stronger
motor related skills, and “more importantly healthier body image” for
her boy. I
placated her.
Board
approval was given provided I worked with their attorney to draw up
participation agreements for any families who wished to have their sons
participate. It was to clearly and specifically outline the nudity and
massage
aspects of the study. “To protect you and us from any legal situations
that may
arise otherwise.” The other condition was the preliminary study I
described had
to be limited to no more than ten participants. Any
further research that might be spurred by
this study would need additional board consideration. “Mr. Jenkins, it
would be
our sincerest desire that all aspects of this study be as transparent
as
possible.” It was a done deal.
Bobby’s
first weekend with me was in early November. Outside temperatures were
still
quite comfortable. He showed up in the school’s gym attire which was to
be the
clothing of choice for his visits throughout the study. I was quick to
go over
that rule first. “You need to wear the gym clothes only--no underwear,
only a
jock under the shorts-- every time you come.” I could tell he was
uneasy about
that right off the bat. “While Mom and Dad are here, I want to make it
clear that
you will have to undergo a massage at least twice a day. Most of the
time, I’ll
be the one giving the massage.” I was careful to avoid mentioning the
massages
would be full body with him nude. I could work through that later. I
also
purposely avoided mentioning he’d be swimming naked at least four hours
a day. Following
the introductory meeting his parents left and Bobby was surprisingly at
ease.
Lana
came home an hour and a half after Bobby’s arrival and a half hour
after his
parents’ departure. I guess he never thought of me being married, but
he was a
bit surprised. Lana was quite obvious as she scanned the lanky but good
looking
legs from his ankles to the top of his bare thighs.
“You’re
a handsome one, aren’t you? Bet the girls are all over you.” That
remark was
cut off by me. I needed to have a discussion with her about this kid’s
problems
so she wouldn’t make it worse.
I
showed Bobby to the bedroom he’d be sleeping in on our three day
weekends. As
he was making himself more comfortable and checking out the electronics
I’d put
in there to entertain him, I huddled with Lana. It was important that
she
understand her well meaning compliments about Bobby’s “good looking”
body were
what I suspected behind his problem with over modesty. I encouraged her
to save
those comments for when the boy was forcibly made to remain naked for
hours, if
not days, at a time. I
explained our
objective could be measured by the presence or absence of an erection. When he was flaccid she
could comment, when he
was hard she had to lay off comments and use only touch to express her
view of
his attractiveness.
Our
low keyed discussion was interrupted as the boy entered the kitchen. I
was once
again drawn to the attractive, for lack of better terms, legginess of
the age. It
was a good time to introduce rule one to the boy and figure out how to
make it
happen. I patted the seat of the chair between Lana and me as an
indication for
the boy to sit.
“Did
you see our pool?”
“Yeah,
it’s pretty cool. Am I going to get to use it?”
“Yes,
but there is one rule that you probably won’t like. Boys who are
younger than
fourteen have to swim naked no matter who is here or what time of day
they
swim.” I looked serious but I think he thought I was kidding at first.
“Yeah,
like that’s gonna’ happen.” He kind of chuckled.
Lana
jumped in, “No, Bobby, he’s serious. You have to swim naked.”
A
serious expression immediately filled the boy’s face. “Well, I guess I
won’t be
swimming then.”
“Oh,
but, Bobby, yes you are. You will have to spend at least four hours a
day in
the pool. So, I’d suggest you get used to it. There is one other thing.
There’s
an outdoor shower over in the far corner. You will use that shower for
daily
bathing. Again, you will be totally naked when you do. I realize the neighbors have
an open view of
the shower, but they’ve all seen naked boys before at some time or
another so
there’s nothing there they haven’t seen before.”
The
kid had a definite look of fear on his face, “I think I need to go
home. I
don’t want to stay here.”
Then
I dropped the bomb, “Bobby, your mom and dad both know the rules. They
brought
you here so you would have to do this. It’s all for your own good. Just
relax
and go with the flow. Pretty soon you won’t even think about it. I
promise. Don’t
fight it, just do it.”
Tears
formed in the boy’s eyes. He really was scared. Lana patted her lap and
he
shrugged. She patted her lap again and said, “Bobby, come over here and
let me
hold you. I know this is rough.” Surprisingly, the kid did. As he
draped
himself across her lap she gently held him close with one arm and
buried his
head between her breasts with the other. Her hand began stroking the
boy’s
thighs as she quietly held him for reassurance. “Bobby, it’ll be okay.
You’ll
get through this fine.” Her fingers slid under the hem of those shorts
as she
continued gently rubbing. She’d pushed them up far enough to see the
pouch of
the kid’s jock. Her left hand had moved to stroking his hair as her
right
continued the assault to his upper leg. Momentarily she kissed the boy
on top
of his head. “Don’t be so worried. I’ve seen little boys naked before.
And you
know Mr. Jenkins has even seen you naked before. It won’t be so bad.”
She
rubbed his head some more. “I know. Let’s take your shorts off right
now. You
can leave your jock on. What do you say? Can we do that?” The boy lay
silent as
she patted his ass and pressed his head into her chest.
I
liked the softness of the moment and felt she’d made some inroads.
Momentarily,
she slid her hand under the elastic waistband of the shorts and pushed
the side
down exposing a bare cheek crossed diagonally by the elastic strap of
his jock.
The kid didn’t even resist. “You know if you stand up for a second, I
can get
them off.” He didn’t budge. “Bobby? Stand up and let me help you get
used to
this.” He didn’t move or indicate any knowledge of her request. Lana
pushed his
head up and gently coaxed the boy to rise in her lap. His right hip was
still
exposed as he rose to his feet. Lana gently centered his body and
pulled his
shorts all the way down to his ankles. She stopped. “See, nobody’s
making fun
of you. You’re still a kid. Nothin’ to see here. Now lift your feet so
I can
get these shorts off.” He
complied.
As
the boy in just a t-shirt and jock strap stood before her, I was
mesmerized by
how easily we’d gotten that far. I was also treated to the appearance
of some
tenting in the pouch. I think Lana was encouraged by his obvious
erection too.
“Okay,
let’s take this old t-shirt. Whata’ you say?” She stood and pulled the
t-shirt
up. Bobby raised his arms like a toddler being stripped for his bath.
This
beautiful kid stood clad only in a jock. I was amazed at the ease at
which Lana
had stripped him. She threw his t-shirt on the island in the kitchen,
took her
seat again and pulled the almost naked boy back onto her lap and into
the
motherly cuddle once more. She gently caressed his bare backside
lightly
stimulating his cheeks with her fingernails. She winked at me and said,
“Yep,
this girl’s still got it!” There was a look of pride in her eyes.
As
she continued to stimulate the eleven year old’s pale, bare backside I
wondered
how she’d get the strap off. The boy still pouting kept his head
pressed into
her blouse. Lana’s hand began stimulating his right pelvic area at the
crest. It
was increasingly evident she was on her way to the pouch. The scene was
causing
me to stir a bit.
Her
verbal remarks were now aimed at me. “You have any idea what we’re
going to
have for dinner, tonight? I mean I have my hands full at the moment.”
She
was sending the faux message that she wasn’t interested in Bobby’s
body, but
more what we would have for dinner. Nice technique! My mind drifted to
her
getting the strap off so we could take the naked boy to some fast food
drive-in
window and expose him to his first taste of public nudity, but it was
too soon
for that. As I offered suggestions of what takeout one of us could get,
her
hand slid down to the side of the woven pouch of the boy’s strap. She
didn’t
attempt to slip under the barrier, but instead just lightly stimulated
the skin
area outside the hem. “Well?
What are we
going to have for dinner, Sam?”
I
seriously suggested, “How about chicken?”
“Bobby
you think chicken would be good?” She continued lightly tickling his
groin. He
didn’t respond. I’d bet he was trying to concentrate on where Lana’s
hand was. I
really think she’d gotten him to the point of anticipating her initial
contact
with his erect penis or scrotum. “Bobby? Do you want Mr. Jenkins or me
to get
chicken for supper?”
A
muffled reply. “Yeah, chicken’s okay.”
I
jumped on it. “Chicken it is!”
Lana
abruptly lifted the side of the kids pouch and stroked his scrotum. I
damned
near fell out of my chair. Who’d have thought she would get there so
fast? She
was actually playing with his ball sack and he was letting her do it.
Again,
she smiled a devious smile and winked at me. “Hey, Bobby, lets get the
jock off
so you can go swimming and one of us can go get some chicken. Whata’
say?”
The
kid slowly rose from her lap. He stood in front of her. She took the
waistband
of the jock on either side and slid it down. I remember watching as she
wiggled
the damned thing over his erection. “Okay, Buddy, let’s lift those legs
and get
it all the way off.” Bobby shielded his erection with his hand as Lana
completed the undressing. He stood there, hands cupping his hard
appendage. Lana
asked, “Nuggets, fingers, or chicken on the bone?”
I
couldn’t help but make all those suggestions a bit dirty considering we
had a
nude boy standing in our presence. “Nuggets? Fingers? Bone?” Oh well,
dirty
mind.
Lana
continued to inquire, “Fingers?” The kid was actually smiling.
“Fries
with that?”
“Yeah.”
“Ranch,
Blue Cheese or Barbeque?”
“Ranch.”
I
was a bit surprised at how quickly my wife had stripped the boy. It was
masterful. I just wished he’d release his rather long boner for our
examination. After all, even all those times I’d seen him in the locker
room,
he’d never had an erection. I was curious at how long his already
lengthy
pecker could stretch. I think Lana read my mind. “I’ll go to
Chik-fil-a’ and
get the chicken. You boys can stay home and swim. Bobby, I’m going to
gather up
your clothes here, before I go. I’ll put them away. You need to stay
naked and
try to get used to it. By the time I get back, you won’t even notice
you’re
naked. Okay?”
I
could tell looking at the boy’s face he was still wrestling with what
had just
happened. “Okay.”
“But,
before I go.” She reached down and pried his hands away from his penis.
“I need
to see what you’re hiding down here.” After a hard look, she actually
reached
out and cradled his stiff penis in her open hand. “Hum, looks like a
boy’s
penis doesn’t it? Nothin’ new here!” She patted it with her other hand
and
released it. “Now you don’t have to hide it anymore. I’ve seen it all.”
She got
up, grabbed the t-shirt, shorts, and jock. “I’ll be back in a flash
with the
CHICKENNNNNNN!!!”
As
she went down the hallway with his clothes she turned back momentarily,
and out
of Bobby’s eyeshot, but not mine, with wide open eyes lipped the word
“long”,
while separating her index fingers about six inches apart. I couldn’t
help but
grin.
So,
there we were. I was with a boy I’d seen naked many times before. Only
this
time we were alone and at my home. My impulse was to feel that now five
inch
appendage my wife had already initiated touching, but I didn’t want to
upset
the gains she’d made so masterfully. I mean, who’d have thought? No
games, no
threats, just desensitizing the kid by taking it slowly. Wish I’d
videoed that
routine so I could show his mother and every other bashful kid’s mother
how to
begin.
“Okay,
Bobby, hit the pool. I’ll join you in a minute.”
Watching
Lana’s seduction of the boy had made me a little horny as well. I felt
the urge
to unload before donning my swim trunks. So, I did. After the five
minute
interlude, I joined Bobby in the pool. I was half expecting him to
question the
fairness of him having to be naked and me getting the benefit of
trunks, but it
didn’t happen. I guess he just assumed adults got to wear something. We played with water
“cannons” squirting each
other and laughing. I was truly surprised his erection had subsided and
he
seemed completely oblivious to his nudity.
“How
come you are not embarrassed being naked right now? I mean you don’t
seem to
mind. But, at school, you are really embarrassed being naked in the
locker
room.”
“I
guess because it’s just you. In the locker room I have all those other
boys
looking at me. You don’t make fun of my junk and they do.”
“What
do they say or do that bothers you so much?”
“Oh,
they grab my penis and pull it. Sometimes they pull it hard. They call
me “Long
Dong” and stuff like that.”
“What
do you mean they pull it?”
“They
grab it and squeeze it and yank on it. Sometimes the tell me they’re
going to
strip me on the playground so the girls can see it. They make fun of me
and
make me scared.”
“Well,
Bobby, they’re just jealous. Your penis is longer than theirs and it
embarrasses them. You know if you were proud of it instead of
embarrassed by
it, and walked around the locker room letting it swing...” the kid
laughed and
repeated the ‘letting it swing’ line, “those guys would probably leave
you
alone. You liked that did you?”
I
continued, “No, seriously. If you changed your attitude and maybe just
cradled
it while you faced them and said, ‘You can only wish you were as big as
I am’.
They would be the embarrassed ones. You could say something like, ‘Hey,
I have
an idea, let’s put yours and mine side by side and compare them, whata’
say?’ I
guarantee that’d shut them up.”
He
glanced down at his penis. When he looked up, the smile had given way
to a
doubtful facial expression.
“Don’t
worry, Bobby, we’re going to make things okay. Trust me.”
He
got out of the pool and looked for a towel. I think he was a bit
melancholic.
“You
done swimming?”
“Yeah.
Where did Mrs. Jenkins put my stuff?”
I
broke the news, “About your stuff. We want you to stay naked for a few
hours
every day so you won’t need it. You’ll be sleeping naked too. So, we
don’t need
to worry about your stuff right now.”
With
that the kid reiterated his desire to go home. I answered that request
with the
same answer as before. He wasn’t going home until Monday after school.
What I
didn’t tell him was the “stuff” he’d worn to our house—t-shirt, short
shorts,
ankle length socks and a jock—were exactly the same items he’d be
wearing to
school that Monday. But that’s another full page of bantering.
He
plopped down on a patio chair and pouted. I continued to wander the
pool
putting the floating toys on the surrounding deck. As I took in the
image of
his beautiful form, I longed for the massage sessions that would begin
that
very evening. Maybe I’d let Lana do the honors, but no, I wanted to
feel those
beautiful legs all the way up and over that firm backside. What I
really wanted
was to feel that long, hardened appendage and, hopefully, loose scrotum
for an
extended period of time.
I
lifted myself out of the pool and gathered the toys. After putting them
in the
mesh bag hanging off the ladder, I joined the boy on the over stuffed
chaise
lounge. Jokingly I spread his knees to open his flaccid penis to view.
“You
need to give that guy some air. Let’s sit with your legs apart.
Remember, be
proud! Really Bobby, it’s a really good-looking penis.” Oooppsss, there
I went
doing what I’d cautioned Lana against—drawing unnecessary attention to
his
boyhood. Sure hoped it didn’t take me one step backward.
Thirty
minutes later, Lana returned with the chicken. She set the patio table
and we
had dinner. Lana again took a motherly role and rubbed the boys head.
“What’s
the matter, Bobby? Why are you so down?” He wasted no time telling her
he
didn’t want to be naked. Her response shocked me. “Well, I like seeing
you
naked. It’s time this place had some decent decorations to look at, and
there
you are!” He playfully poked him under his arm. He couldn’t help but
grin.
Lana
dismissed him after dinner and told him to retreat to the living room
to watch
TV. She told him where to find the remote. “Mr. Jenkins and I will take
care of
cleaning up and then we’ll join you.” I just drank in the bare backside
as his
cheeks alternated with each step. Lana drank in the sight as well. She
finally
quietly acknowledged to me, “Good looking boy. He has nothing to be shy
about. You
get a chance to feel him?” I nodded and smiled.
“Yeah,
but you might have to work your magic again tonight. We’re going to
start the
massages.”
“I
can handle it. Literally, I can handle it.” She smiled proudly.
As
I remember it, Lana and I finished cleaning up in the kitchen and went
to join
our young naked guest in the living room. He was laying on his stomach
on the
couch. Lana walked over and lightly slapped his bare bottom. “Whatcha’
watching, Buddy?”
He
identified a show Lana and I were more familiar with than he was, “I
don’t know
Andy something.”
I
looked at the TV and the kid was actually engrossed in a black and
white
version of “Andy Griffith”. “That’s the Andy Griffith Show. I used to
watch
that when I was a little boy. It was old even then, but a lot of folks
watched
it.”
Lana
patted his bare bottom again and said, “Hey let me sit down. You can
lay across
my lap. I plopped
my ass down in our
recliner. I was somewhat irritated that my wife was getting to
experience the
kid’s goods before I did. I mean who in the hell made her the lead in
this
“therapy” stuff? My better judgment kept me silent though. I was still
amazed
she’d stripped him naked without having to “fire a shot”. What made me
angrier
was the kid lifted himself up and let her sit down. He was just too
cooperative. I wouldn’t be able to warm his backside for disobedience
that
night. I wondered if I would get to feel the boy’s backside that night
either.
Lana
helped him position himself so his firm, smooth globes were across her
lap and centered
in front of her. His head returned to the throw pillow it’d been on
when we
entered. Lana began rubbing his butt cheeks immediately and didn’t
stray far
from them. Oh, her hands made and occasional trip down his legs while
she
massaged his calves. Her right hand slid up his back to his shoulders
and arms,
but both always returned for an extended coverage of his milk white
cheeks.
Though
both Lana and Bobby continued to watch the television I was more
interested in
his reaction to her touch. He didn’t seem too concerned. Lana cleared
her
throat to signal me to watch. I did. She slid the side of her hand
right down
the boy’s butt crack. He
still didn’t
move. I stuck my index finger up and smiled. She got the message and
nodded her
head with an upset look as if to say she wasn’t going there. But then
she did
with a smirk. As her finger pressed his anus he jumped and told her to
“Quit!”
She
was quick to ask, “Quit what, Bobby?”
“Quit
putting your finger in my asshole!”
“While
you are with us, you can call it your anus or even your butt hole, but
if you
use that term again I’ll spank your bare backside. Understand?” Whoa,
she was
taking on the disciplinarian role now.
What
came to my mind was that she was really ready to be a mom. We’d thought
about
having kids, but watching her easily slip Bobby into compliance I was
more
convinced than ever. Why she chose accounting I’ll never know. She’s
have been
one hell of a teacher.
“Okay,
Buddy, time to turn over so I can work on your front side.”
“No,
that’s okay. I’m fine. Just do my back.”
“No,
I need to spend some time on the front. Turn over.”
“I
don’t want you to do my front.”
“I
didn’t ask if you wanted me to, I told you to turn over, now do it.”
Ah, ha,
Lana was becoming pissed. I just smirked at her when our eyes met and
shrugged
my shoulders.
“SNAP!
SNAP!” Two very pink handprints decorated his left butt cheek. The boy
reached
back with a scowl on his face. “Hey, that hurt.”
“I
meant it to hurt. I’m not going to ask again. Next time I’ll get Mr.
Jenkin’s
paddle. Now roll over!”
I
must confess those two rather sharp swats still echo in my head every
time I
remember that scene. She didn’t hold back. Watching her spank him, I
had a
mixture of arousal and jealousy. I wanted to be the spanker. She was
taking
over the whole damn thing. We’d straighten that out after I sent him to
bed.
Bobby
was slow to give in. I decided to push myself to the center of the
issue. After
all the kid was my responsibility and I wasn’t going to sublet the
spanking
privilege. I got up to get the paddle. When I returned the boy was
still chest
down. He saw me approach with the board and began to comply.
“Oh
no, you’ve earned a little something to remember to do what you’re
told. Just lay
right back down. He did. Lana put her
left arm across the back of his legs and her right arm half way between
his
backside and shoulder blades. With a little smile of anticipation, she
nodded
toward the boy’s bare ass. I came down with the paddle hard. He lurched
and
cried out. Another swat echoed throughout the living room. He wiggled
trying to
get out from under the onslaught. Lana held firm. WHAP! Another swat.
He was
crying. WHAP! Another lurch. His butt was no longer just pink from
Lana’s handprint.
WHAP! He pleaded for me to stop. I did.
“Now
roll over and let Mrs. Jenkins do whatever she had in mind. Next time I
will do
that the first time you don’t do what you’re told.”
I
think we both were curious to see what he would show—hard or soft. If
he was
hard I’d think he got off on the ass warming. If he was soft, I’d read
it as
having put him in his place. It was flaccid. Kind of hanging over his
tennis
ball sized sack. Lana immediately grabbed his loose noodle and worked
it like she
had a handful of Playdough. It took awhile for the boy to stop crying
after the
paddling and his penis didn’t respond to Lana’s playing for five or six
minutes, but eventually he sucked in the nasal discharge and his penis
rose.
He
choked out a warning he’d learned in elementary school, I’m sure, “You
aren’t
supposed to touch me there.” He tried to push her hand away.
“Does
Mr. Jenkins have to teach you to behave again? Listen Sport, I’m going
to touch
you wherever I want to, whenever I want to. Just sit back and enjoy the
ride. Now
spread your legs so I can get to your balls.”
Frustrated
the boy complied. Lana went straight to work on his penis and ball
sack. After
exploring his bulbous glans, she tended to his chest and the front of
his legs.
God, I was envious. That was supposed to be my turf and now I was
relegated to
watching. Yeah, we’d need to come to an understanding when Bobby went
to bed.
The
kid remained hard the rest of the evening.
Before
bed, Lana said, “See Bobby. Showing your boy parts and being naked can
be a
good thing. You liked the massage, didn’t you? I mean all but Mr.
Jenkins
massage on your backside not so much, but is our peepee still there?
How about
your ball sack? Is it still there? Did anyone make fun of them? Being
naked
isn’t so bad is it? She actually kissed his cheek and bid him a good
night.
I
put him to bed after quickly hugging his neck. I told him I hoped I’d
never
have to paddle him again, but it was really up to him when he was
staying with
us. I also told him I thought he’d made quite a bit of progress in
overcoming
his body shyness. I bid him a good night, left his room and shut the
door.
I
caught up with Lana in the kitchen and asked her what in the hell gave
her the
idea she could take over my intervention program. I was half pissed,
but half
amused at her success in just one afternoon and evening. She reminded
me that I
got to tear up his ass first. I argued that I just got sloppy seconds
after she
planted two handprints.
“And
what was with the stranglehold on his penis? You like it hard, don’t
you?”
“Oh,
stop it Sam. You’re just jealous. I got him naked without a fight.
You’ve got
to keep him that way. Tomorrow can be your day. Did you tell him he’d
be naked
the whole weekend or are you still going to “ease into it”?
“Well,
we’ve come this far much faster than I thought it would take. I’ll just
make
him stay naked. Any, ideas for a debut to the public? Or, should we
just stay
home this weekend and not show him off.”
Lana
repeated her earlier assessment, “He’s a good looking boy. That
penis...what’s it
four inches soft? You could hang hats on it when it’s stiff.”
“Easily
five inches when it’s stiff. I guess you’re right we need to just stay
home
this weekend. Hey, maybe we can get his parents to stop by to see our
progress.
On second thought, having them come by might set the whole thing back.
I’ll
think about it.”
The
following morning Bobby came down to the kitchen and asked where his
clothes
were. I told him Mrs. Jenkins and I decided he’d be naked all weekend.
That
didn’t go over well. His first concern was someone else might see him
naked. He
didn’t like my response that I hoped that would happen. He got very
frustrated.
Lana put him at ease a bit.
“Bobby,
it’s like art. When you have something beautiful, you want to share the
experience with others. And, your young bod, is like a beautiful piece
of
artwork. Your parents, Coach and I want you to be comfortable sharing
it with
others. I still don’t understand why you don’t want to walk down Main
Street
with your junk on display. It’d put all those other kids to shame.” She squeezed his chin
between her thumb and
forefinger and muttered, “You’re a really handsome kid with a beautiful
body.” She
released his chin and kissed him on the cheek.
I
teased both by reminding her she’d only known him for a day and was
already
flirting. She smiled. Bobby was still reeling from the news he’d be
naked all
weekend and didn’t respond to the remark.
The
afternoon of that second day, Lana begrudgingly allowed me to give the
kid his
first massage. I placed the boy on the floor of the living room, pillow
under
his head, but on his back with his legs splayed wide apart. I worked
his face
and chest, down his arms, and eventually his already stiff penis. The
darn
thing felt much like a wooden dowel with a slight warp. But, then
again, what
dowel had a soft spot at it’s tip? Bobby didn’t object to my working
his rod, I
supposed it was Lana’s ground work from the night before that let him
know it
was inevitable.
His
scrotum was relaxed and I was free to feel his firm little testes
incased
within. They moved as I fingered them. Stretching the skin of the sack
made
them even more pronounced. Lana lounged on the couch watching intently
as I
worked the boy’s body. She began to offer suggestions, but I gave her a
look
that communicated for her to “butt out”. Bobby just lay silent fully
accepting
my exploration of his beautiful body. Lord, his skin was smooth and his
muscles
were firm. I continued to imagine his penis and backside with an even
tan.
Photos.
That’s what was needed. I’d take images of Bobby in his forced nudity.
Images
of him being massaged by Lana. Images that would communicate to anyone
who
would see them how beautiful this kid was. They’d also be timeless
remembrances
of his hairless boyhood days his parents could share. The idea of the
camera
pointed at his naked form would definitely make him object. Besides the
candid
shots, making him pose provocatively would serve to make it worse for
him and
oh so good for me. It was time to get out the seven hundred dollar
digital Nikon
Lana bitched at me for buying...
(End of File)