By Running Bare
running_bare@posteo.de
Copyright 2019 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.
CONFRONTING MY FEARS
(Chapter 2 and Series Final)
By, Running Bare
I wish my father’s invitation that day the ranger brought me home naked
and embarrassed was an idle threat. It wasn’t. I also wish my mother’s
threat to talk with Eddie’s mother about what happened had been shelved
by Dad’s caution to her, but it too, wasn’t. I wish as eleven-year-old
boys we had the fortitude to lie convincingly and never break down when
questioned, but we didn’t. My plan, our plan, for that day was fully
detailed by Eddie when his mother investigated further.
Apparently, I was the only one who was in the dark about what was going
on. Eddie, my trusted sidekick, wasn’t forthcoming about telling me the
jig was up. He didn’t mention the truth-telling session with his
mother. He didn’t even tell me my mother was inquiring about any of it.
Three weeks down the road, Mom and Dad had planned a
“family day” for us to spend a day in the park. Eddie and his mom were
going to join us. My sister had been encouraged to bring one or two of
her nine and ten-year-old friends along for the day so she too could
have playmates. Still, I had no clue as to the motivation for this day
in the park. My embarrassment about the whole ranger thing had dulled
and I was actually excited to be able to spend a family day with Eddie
in my favorite landscape. Not a clue, not a hint of a clue, about what
was to befall me.
We gathered up the portable grill,
charcoal, lawn chairs and all that kind of stuff and crammed it into
the back of the station wagon. I had to ride back there with all that
crap as my sister and two of her friends—Sally Richards and Meagan
Atkins—were stuffed into the backseat. Mom and Dad always enjoyed the
spaciousness of the front seat sans kids. I couldn’t complain it was
only a three or four-mile trip to parking lot on the opposite side of
the waterfall where Eddie and I preferred to hang out. (Much shorter by
bike, didn’t need a parking lot, but who could carry all that shit on a
bike?)
When we pulled into the lot, there were only
two cars parked there—Eddies mother’s Jeep CJ7 and one other. They were
unloaded and waiting. He was as excited as I was about the day. We
would be able to share our special place with our parents.
We all carried items down the trail to the waterfall. The girls hadn’t
really been there before, but neither had the parents. Eddie and I had
become the tour guides down that trail.
My sister,
Pam, and her friends giggled and occasionally stopped to comment on
things they’d spotted along the six or seven hundred yard jaunt down
the trail from the parking lot (again it was much closer by bike). It
was all old hat for Eddie and me. We just wrote it off as comments from
inexperienced girls. Mom made several comments about the beauty of the
landscape. I was glad she was so approving of our stomping grounds.
We had a bit of difficulty finding places to set up everything among
the rock formations that made up our outdoor obstacle course below the
falls, but Dad was able to improvise and find a suitable set up. The
girls were off exploring surrounding woods and Eddie and I helped
orient our parents to the lay of the land. We took them to the foot of
the thirty foot water fall. Not a hell of a roar as it hit the pool,
but it was as big as Niagara to us.
Then came the
shocker. Dad summoned all of us together—Pam and her friends, Mom, Mrs.
Hyde, Eddie and me. We all eagerly sat on the surrounding boulders and
Mom and Mrs. Hyde on the lawn chairs.
Dad began an
all too familiar story. It was about two boys who liked to swim in “a
spot just like this” naked. With that line the three girls giggled.
Sally let on that she would never swim naked.
Dad
went on with the story, he mentioned that one of the boys really liked
to share his penis with anyone who wanted to see it. That embarrassed
the girls. It embarrassed me. I began to question where this whole
story was going. He mentioned that boy’s friend was also a boy who
liked to swim naked in a place “just like this”, and he liked to make
his friend’s naked body “available” to other people.
It was precisely at that point I began to get the gist of where he was headed. It was all too familiar.
My father continued. He let on that the one boy wanted girls to see and
play with his boy parts, so he asked his friend to invite some of the
kids from their class to come to “a place just like this” and hide
until the boy was naked. After the boy had taken off all his clothes,
the girls could come out and take his clothes and hide them. Then they
would be able to make him do whatever they wanted like letting them
touch his penis and testicles, playing with his backside, spanking him
with a belt, tying him up and things like that.
My
sister and her friends, thinking it was just a story, kept giggling.
Their eyes sparkled in anticipation of the story and how it was going.
Eddie and I just stared at one another. I’m sure my face was apple red.
Dad asked Meagan where she thought those girls would
have hidden while the boys stripped naked. She pointed at various rocks
and trees behind them. My sister mentioned she’d hide up at the top of
the water fall. That was just too accurate to be accidental. But, turns
out it was just a good guess.
Then came the real
shocker. Dad suggested that we play out the story. He suggested some of
us had already had a live rehearsal and it’d be an “easy production”.
He always did have an uncanny way of using suggestion to confront the
truth rather than just coming out with it. He told the girls they could
play the part of the girls and hide. I could be the boy who had to get
naked and Eddie could be the boy who organized the whole thing.
Mrs. Hyde interrupted at that point. She suggested we change the story
a little bit. She wanted the boy who directed it to have to be naked as
well and under the same rules as the boy who wanted to be naked. Dad
was amenable to changing the “script”.
I was totally
devastated. How in the hell did they find out? As I mulled it over,
there were only three other people who knew how it played out and the
girls didn’t know it was a contrived situation. Only Eddie and I knew
it was contrived. I was too apprehensive about what was being
suggested, if Dad was serious, to be pissed with Eddie.
It was evident from the look on his face, Eddie was every bit as embarrassed as I was.
My shocked status was interrupted by my father’s order to Pam and her
friends to go find hiding places. Then he ordered us to take our places
wherever that was. I don’t know if it was habit or not, but we headed
for the stripping rock. As we walked over, I gave Eddie the dirtiest
look I think I’d ever given to anyone. I felt betrayed and that made me
pretty pissed off. He’d told. But now he was implicated as much as I
was and would suffer for the transgressions.
Dad yelled into the woods. You girls ready? My sister shouted they were.
Now Dad was in-charge. “You boys strip naked and just leave your clothes on the rock.”
In a desperate attempt to abandon the production, I questioned him as
to his seriousness. Surely, even if I was implicated in the incident
three weeks earlier, he wouldn’t expect us to strip naked in front of
all these others. He responded with an assurance that he was really
excited to do a performance of the story. He still didn’t confess he
knew what had happened that day, but it was pretty evident.
Our mothers watched from the lawn chairs as we complied. Stripping was
slow for me. I had tears in my eyes from the humiliation. As I remember
it, Eddie’s eyes were also far from dry. I don’t think he knew we’d be
doing a re-creation of the day three weeks earlier. Even more, I don’t
think he knew he’d be forced into the same situation I was in.
As I was ordered to slide my underwear off, I heard a distant giggle.
It only confirmed my sister and her friends were watching. Eddie’s
mother enjoined my dad’s instruction to me and told him to slip his
underwear off as well. He’d stalled I think to see if he could guide it
closer to the reality of that day. Unfortunately for him, his mother
upped the ante that day. He had to strip nude as well.
Both of us stood naked, penises stiff, before Dad and the two mothers,
not to mention the three girls in the woods. Eddie reached to cover. At
that point, we were instructed not to cover for any reason.
Eddie asked if we could go into the pool at the base of the waterfall.
He pled his case, that that’s where I went that day. Dad motioned to
allow us to do that. It was almost as if he was going to follow the
true script as closely as possible.
All this happened
before ten in the morning. He called the girls down to retrieve our
clothes and hide them. They quickly emerged to do just that.
As with the way things came down during the original ordeal, the girls
returned and Dad ordered us out of the water so the girls could get to
know our bodies close up. Unlike the day three weeks earlier, we were
told we’d be naked the whole day and we were at the disposal of the
girls at their whims.
The mothers both encourage the
girls to touch as much as they wanted. Though hesitant, they eventually
engaged in pulling our hard-ons and feeling our ball sacks. It was
weird to have that happen, but it was unbelievable that it was going on
under the watchful and condoning eyes of our parents.
Being an inch or so longer than Eddie, my penis was a draw for the
girls especially Sally and Meagan. Pam had seen it before and tended to
be a bit more interested in Eddie’s which she’d never seen.
An hour later, Dad produced his 35mm camera and began the photo
process. He explained the slides he’d be taking would definitely last
longer than a Polaroid picture and they’d be much more colorful and
“crisp”. He promised Mrs. Hyde she could have prints made from the
slides if she wanted. He also promised the girls, if their parents gave
permission, they too could have a picture of the two naked boys to keep
forever.
After our almost five hour stint wading,
swimming and standing under the waterfall for Dad’s photoshoot, we
began to pack up for the trip home. Both Eddie and I were anxious to
don our clothing and return to a more normal modesty level. But, like
the day of my ordeal, our clothes were gone.
I argued
the disappearance and Dad, ever the director of the presentation,
explained that was the way it happened on that fateful day three weeks
prior—no clothes. To make matters worse, we were told Mrs. Hyde,
Eddie’s mom, would play the role of the park ranger. She was in the
parking lot removing the canvas doors and lowering the top on her jeep.
We were destined to a quick trip through town in an open vehicle and on
display for all to see.
Neither of us was too anxious
to get into the Jeep. After we did, we were told to sit in the back
seat. To this day, I remember the warmth of the black vinyl seat that
had been heated so quickly by the sun. There was a momentary searing of
our asses as we initially sat down. We both jumped up from the burn of
the initial skin contact with that hot vinyl.
Now I
don’t know how many of you have ridden in the back seat of a CJ, but
there isn’t much of a wall provided by the side panels to protect “the
view”. That made me more than a little self-conscious as it did for
Eddie. It was he who asked if we couldn’t just go home and skip the
trip through town. His mother was on a mission though and argued she
had to pick up some milk, bread and other such things from the market
so we had to go to town.
The other unique attribute
of the CJ is the roll bar that is situated behind the front seat and
just above the rear seat. In the days before the seatbelt laws, and
this was, it was permissible for passengers to stand and hold onto the
roll bar. The wind blowing on your face and head was extremely
comforting. Take it from me though, when you’re naked and forced to
stand up and hold on to the roll bar with both hands, more than your
face, chest and hair blows around especially if your penis is just a
little bit longer than average. That aside, the embarrassment of
exposure to everyone takes away the exhilaration of being clothed and
in that position.
As we rolled down Pemberton Drive,
the main drag through our town, we were definitely noticed. We were
pointed out by people on the side walk. Kids from our school and the
high school shouted out embarrassing commentary and made loud cat
calls. Even parents of little kids called their attention to the “naked
boys”. There would be no question about our genitals, or how we were
hung, left in the community’s mind. Everything was “out of the bag” at
least for those who were present when we passed.
As I
think back, I was a bit concerned about the possibility Eddie’s mom
would be stopped by the cops. That didn’t happen either, and we were
passed on one occasion by a local patrol car. Why didn’t they stop us?
You’d think, at least, she would have been told to cover the lower half
of her boys. It didn’t happen.
Years later, I asked
my Dad why the cops didn’t react when Mrs. Hyde did that to us. He
explained that neither of us had gone through puberty and we weren’t
considered indecently exposed until that right-of-passage had occurred.
Basically, naked boys under twelve or thirteen were considered
“children” and the law allowed for public exposure at the parents’
whim. Who’d have thought?
We pulled into the lot of a
large local supermarket and Mrs. Hyde parked the Jeep. She reiterated
that she had to run in to pick up a few items. She also told us that we
were to stand, legs spread, holding that damned roll bar the whole time
with both hands. She made it clear she’d be checking on us from the
store to make sure we were complying, and, if we didn’t, she’d see to
it we’d practice doing so each time she went to the market for at least
a month. Message received.
Immediately, as she headed
toward the store, I verbally charged Eddie with telling about the day
three weeks earlier. I’d had six hours to mull over how my parents had
found out about what we’d done in the original production. It could
only have been from him.
He became defensive as soon
as my charge left my lips. Yeah, I was pissed and couldn’t understand
how he’d expect me to be anything but.
As we stood
fully exposed many people made commentary. Some mumbled to each other,
some actually addressed us. Some acted offended and others wanted to
know “What parent could do that to those poor boys”.
One mother of three girls that appeared our age right down to about six
actually walked the kids right up to the Jeep for a closeup view. They
stood there not two feet from our then erect penises, gawking, for five
minutes. The little one must have asked ten or so questions from “Why
do boys have those things?” to “Can I touch his?” As I think back her
older sister answered many, her mother fielded a few and corrected a
few incorrect responses from her sister. What was important was she
denied the kid the privilege of touching our packages. I surmise
Eddie’s mom would have probably invited her to do so, had she been
there.
When we arrived home, again forced to stand
holding the roll bar, Mom, Dad, my sister and her friends met us in the
driveway. Dad, in his imitable smartass way, calmly asked Mrs. Hyde,
“Well ranger, what do we have here?”
Mrs. Hyde played the role well. “Are either of these boys yours?”
Dad pointed directly at me. “That one!”
Then Mrs. Hyde retold the story as it came down about how we’d plotted
a way to expose ourselves down in the park. It was factually correct
for the most part. The only change was she made it sound we both
decided to be naked. Ending her diatribe with, “I guess they just want
to run around naked to amuse other people. Must get their jollies out
of it.”
Dad kept the role playing going, “Is that what you boys want? You like being naked and pawed at by other kids?”
Of course, we both, embarrassed, heads down, mumbled “No.”
Surprise judgement. “Well, the ranger here, seems to have read what
you’ve done accurately. Why else would you invite some class mates and
neighbors to play with your bodies? I have an idea. You shouldn’t have
to plot it. If that’s what you want, why don’t you just stay naked, all
the time, for the next week and we can invite other kids over to play
with your bodies however they want? You don’t have to do all that
deceitful planning and trying to hide your actions. Your mothers and I
won’t mind and you won’t have to hide what you’re doing.” Then he
addressed Pam and her friends, “You girls wouldn’t mind, would you?”
They just giggled and pressed their hands to their mouths. Pam verbally chided that that would be fine.
He didn’t stop there, “You think you can find other kids, boys or
girls, who might want to come and play with these guys if we leave them
naked?”
Again, my sister gave a boisterous affirmation, “Oh yeah, we could.”
I truly don’t believe my sister believed Dad was being serious. She was
soon to find out the whole punishment paradigm was being structured
that very moment.
I thought Dad was joking as he
opened the back door of the house to usher me, his naked preteen, into
the house. I quickly headed toward the staircase to secure some
semblance of modesty, when he stopped me and asked where I was going.
Glancing at my sister and her friends who were seated at the kitchen
table my embarrassment grew. They were all giggling and pointing at my
again erect penis. I paused just long enough to tell him I wanted get
some clothes to put on.
His reaction was not what I’d
expected from my usually modest parents. He actually asked where the
clothes I had on earlier were. I, of course, said I didn’t know what
the girls had done with them. He asked them if they had them. They said
“no”. He told me that it seemed Eddie and I liked being seen and
fondled by the girls and others and that, in the absence of my clothes,
I should like being naked. He went on to tell me he, Mom, and Mrs. Hyde
had decided we boys should be “allowed” to be naked for the entire
week. He further stated all the attention to our naked bodies, both
from exposure to and touch from others, should make us feel happy and
excited.
I begged for a change of sentence. He held
his hands up to pause the discussion and just said, “No, no, it’s fine
with everyone. Don’t even concern yourself with it. No problem.” And he
chuckled. The girls’ giggling increased.
My sister
either was clueless, or, more likely, amused by his pronouncement.
Right before her two cohorts she sought clarification. “You mean we can
feel his thing whenever we want and he has to let us?”
Dad in his imitable smartass way just replied, “Yes you can touch him
whenever you want. I think he likes it! So can any of your other
friends of neighbor kids. Pull him around by it if you like, whatever.
For the next week his body is yours.”
Of course. as
you or I would have done, she ordered me to approach the table and she
engaged my stiff penis squeezing it. Then I was passed from girl to
girl like they were sharing a joint. Each either rubbing, squeezing or
yanking on my hardened shaft and cradling my ball sack. Meagan again
announced that this was the first penis she’d ever felt. I knew, until
that day, my sister hadn’t ever felt a penis, at least mine, either so
I surmised Sally was also a novice to it as well. Then again perhaps
she’d felt a baby’s during a diaper change, but doubtful.
Where was Mom on all this? She appeared right on board with the whole
punishment plan. Midway thru my negotiation attempt with Dad, Mom
appeared in the kitchen and hung a wide leather belt on the keyring
holder by the backdoor. I didn’t need explanation about what that
meant. It was pretty obvious.
The whole access to my
penis, balls and hole thing was evidently ass whipping serious. I was
given a skid mark protection towel which I was forced to sit on when
lounging on the couch, chairs, or carpet. I was also informed I was to
always to sit with my legs openly exhibiting my genitals. Failure to do
so would be cause for the belt to be put to use.
Misty, our German Shepard, began sniffing my balls. I pushed her away.
Dad, seeing this, told me with a chuckle, that she was just interested
and was trying to make sure I was clean and to allow her to explore. I
reluctantly moved my hands and she sniffed again. This time she began
licking in a grooming sort of way. My penis responded almost
immediately. The licking continued. After getting over the initial
humiliation of being laughed at, I strangely enjoyed her attention. Her
tongue lightly “sanding” my scrotum. She nuzzled deeper both smelling
and licking my hole. I liked the feeling, but not the attention the
humans in the room were giving it. My sister and her friends laughed
loudly and responded with such remarks as “Oh, gross!” “Why is she
doing that?”
Dad, also laughing responded as only he did, “She wants to make sure he’s clean down there.”
Thankfully, Misty didn’t assault me very often, but that was one of the
most embarrassing (but in retrospect pleasurable) incidents to occur
that week. I have to add, when forced to walk her that week she never
performed her “grooming” activity, thank God. If she had, I’d have
probably opted for the belt instead of allowing the show.
Thursday of that week was registration day for the new school year. Our
mothers or fathers had to go into the office at school and register us
for the next year. For those of us, like Eddie, my sister, and me who
had attended the prior year, it was a very quick process. For new kids
it was a bit longer.
I guess Mom and Mrs. Hyde
decided they’d bring us along for the process. Eddie’s mom drove the
jeep. We were seated in the back sandwiching my fully clothed sister.
Mom sat in the shotgun seat. Upon entering the parking lot, Eddie and I
had to stand and assume the legs apart, hands on the roll bar position.
Pam was put in-charge of making sure we did as we were instructed the
whole time our moms were in the school. She was told by Mrs. Hyde to
make sure as many people saw us as she could, and she took that
instruction well.
All I can say is my bratty sister
made sure all the kids, in our grade especially, had their attention
drawn to us standing helplessly exposed. Needless to say, there was a
lot of giggling, pointing and even close scrutiny and photographing
that day. Within earshot, the length of my penis was a point of
discussion between young and old alike. Yeah, when it was hard, it was
an inch or so longer than Eddie’s, but I didn’t think worthy of note.
Why me?
To make matters worse, my sister was open
suggesting, “If you wanna touch their wieners of other things, you can
as much as you want. It’s okay with our parents.” Some of the other
kids did take advantage of the offer, which definitely made matters
worse. Kids who’d seen and especially those who fondled us definite had
a “knowing” expression on their faces every time they passed us in the
hallway for at least the first month of that year.
We
must have been standing exposed to anyone and everyone for close to an
hour while our mothers tended to the registration. If that wasn’t bad
enough, both moms decided to stop at the supermarket for shopping on
the way home. Another hour or hour and half standing in the back of the
damned Jeep exposed not only to the public, but the hot sun. In all
fairness, they allowed us to don our ball caps “to keep the glare out
of our eyes”. We both did end up with a mild sunburn during that
outing. Ever had your penis sunburned? The glans gets really tender.
On more than one day, Eddie and I were sent on errands on our bikes.
The whole idea was to both increase our exposure and put us in the
position where we had to field questions about why we were naked. Today
law enforcement might respond negatively, but, at the time of our
ordeal, prepubescent kids could be clothed or not at the parents’
prerogative. At other than swimming venues, it was definitely not
common practice to make your sons run around naked even back then, but
there weren’t any prohibitions against it. In fact, I believe most
people loved seeing young boys forced into public nudity, and the more
embarrassed they seemed the better.
Eddie’s mother
was the den mother for the neighborhood Cub Scouts. Both of us had been
through the Weeblos program and were on our way to the Boy Scouts. We,
or course attended our final Cub Scout den meeting totally naked except
for our neckerchief. The other boys both gawked and made snide comments
about our state of undress. One of teases was for her to make us come
to the pack meeting naked, too. It apparently hadn’t been even a
consideration until then.
The outcome of the
suggestions was not desirable. We were ceremoniously transferred to the
Boy Scout while standing nude, beside three other boys who were also
moving up, in front of an audience of moms, dads, siblings of both
genders and our fellow scouts. Mr. Randolph the Cub Master explained to
all present why we were naked. Yep, the whole story. “They wanted to be
naked in front of others, so their parents made sure their desires were
fulfilled.”
Our future Boy Scout leader and three or
four of the boys from the troop were present for the ceremony. Mr.
Adkins, the Boy Scout leader, mentioned that “these two can attend our
meetings naked anytime”. A joke I think, but certainly not missed by
our parents. Turned out, his invitation was unnecessary as we were to
find out. As an initiation to the troop, our older peers ensured we’d
be naked for many outings as were “newbees” that first year.
The worst part of the Boy Scout summer camp experience were the
paddlings we’d get. Each patrol leader (another boy usually at most
three or four years our senior) was allowed to discipline us by hitting
our bare asses with a paddle. Though they were limited to a maximum of
three swats they made them count. During naked times, our patrol leader
made it known we’d get three each and every time we covered our penises
from sight regardless of why.
Swimming nude was not a
problem as all of the scouts had to do so. The only time swim attire or
shorts could be worn for swimming and/or canoeing by any of us was
during visitation Saturday at the halfway point of our stay. During
that Saturday scouts’ families were invited to spend the day at the
camp. Of course, those of us who were there for the first year had to
remain nude for the entire day and provided entertainment for complete
strangers all day long. Hard not to cover your items of interest when
presented to complete strangers of all ages and genders. Take my word
for it, it was even more embarrassing if you got your naked ass paddled
in front of everyone, including one’s own parents, by some fifteen or
sixteen-year-old patrol leader. This was especially true when your own
family members all but chanted for the patrol leader to “do it again”.
All that said, I wouldn’t be honest if I didn’t say there was very
little touching by the other boys at camp. When we were subjected to
being molested it was both humiliating but, at the same time, the
eroticism felt pretty good. There were few occasions that such contact
was painful. Neither, Eddie nor I were “shooters” that summer, but I
doubt if any of the other eleven or twelve year olds were there yet
either. None of the “newbees” had even the seedlings of a bush yet.
That did make the “stroke off” contests both amusing, and, at the same
time, futile.
They’d line us up and appoint one of
the other boys in our respective patrols to play with our appendages
until they were hard. Then they’d stroke our erections until one or the
other of us showed the signs of a dry orgasm. One by one each kid being
stimulated would succumb to heavy breathing and the telltale hip
thrust. Then the first boy to show the typical gyration of an orgasm
would have to suck on the penis of the last one to the amusement of all
in attendance. The sucking had to go on until it was apparent the
holdout had completed his gyrations.
Because of the
length of my appendage, again, not that much longer than average but
noticeable, I was the one they’d cheer for to be last. They wanted to
see some kid sucking on “long dong” for their amusement. That said, it
only happened once that I was the holdout. Ricky Tackett, from another
troop had the unfortunate honor of being first that day.
It was apparent that the others wanted him to put my erect penis “all
the way in”. Being fearful of the consequences for not, he pushed it in
and actually gagged. That brought a great deal of laughter. Hell, even
I, scared as I was, laughed. I’d never had my penis sucked on before
and soon went into what could be called an erotic trance. My only worry
was Ricky would bite it either by accident or in order to stop the
activity. He didn’t.
My body contorted from the dry
orgasm Ricky spurred that day. I grabbed his head and pressed it even
harder into my pubis. For the remainder of the trip and even a few
weeks later as encountered my fellow scouts at school, they’d open
their eyes wide and go through exaggerated wiggling, hands holding a
pretend head and make “oooing and aaahhhing” sounds to tease me. I can
only imagine how annoying and embarrassing I t was for Ricky when such
comic displays were reenacted for him. Poor kid!
That
whole scout thing was and remains, I hope, something my parents didn’t
ever find out about. Though they were big on forcing my exposure, the
activities performed on me were always regulated and confined to
seeing, photographing and simple touch. Oral sex (or sodomy) would have
breeched their moral red line. Maybe, though, such knowledge would have
been instrumental in me winning back some of my modesty.
What really didn’t change was the amount of forced nudity I was
subjected to between age ten and thirteen, when I finally broke out
with a “bush”. Between my sister, her and my friends, relatives, baby
sitters, neighbors and their kids my penis and scrotum weren’t left up
to imagination. All had seen, touched and photographed.
Truthfully, the forced nudity did it’s work for breaking down my body
shyness. What’s to be shy about when exposure is certain? I even lost
the spontaneous erection I used to get upon being “shown” to new
observers.