The Mailing List

The Mailing List 6

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

* * * * *

This story is set in the Puericil Universe.

These are extracts from the email correspondence between four boys, who became friends as cabin mates at summer camp. All their families are believers in the Conservative Resurgence and in the need to keep boys under strict parental control to prevent them from becoming juvenile delinquents. In fact, the summer camp where they met is run along those lines. All four are given Puericil as a way of making them easily manageable and docile.

There is more boyish chatter in the list, but I have only included the bits most relevant for those interested in the treatment of boys under the Conservative Resurgence.

One of the boys, Brandon, 13 years old, is son of the famous psychologist Dr. Cassandra Miller, who has written several bestsellers about parenting boys and keeping them under strict parental control. He has two older brothers.

Zachary (or Zac) is also 13. He has a larger family, with four sisters, two of them older and two younger, and also a younger brother. He is a sport-loving boy who only started taking Puericil recently, although his mother has always believed in the Conservative Resurgence parenting style.

Cody is the youngest one, at 12. He has a twin and his mom is a new convert to the Conservative Resurgence parenting style.

Benji is 13 and has been recently adopted, so he has an adoptive mother and younger sister. Before that he lived with his elderly grandmother until she died.

* * * * *

-----
PART 6
-----

From: Zac (Zachary Randy Saunders, age 13)

Hey, Brandon.

Yeah, man. It sucks how girls are so smug that they get to see boys naked when we never get to see them. It ain’t fair. And it sucks that your mom used you guys as a teaching aid to explain some dumb little girls about boys’ bodies and stuff. I know what that’s like, so you’re not alone.

-----

From: Brandon (Brandon Stanley Miller, age 13)

Thanks man. What do you mean, you know what it’s like?

-----

From: Zac (Zachary Randy Saunders, age 13)

Oh, man, it’s so embarrassing. But I guess I’ll tell you if it makes you feel better.

-----

From: Brandon (Brandon Stanley Miller, age 13)

You can tell us. We can tell each other all our stuff, can’t we? We are not going to make fun of you or anything. Right, guys?

-----

From: Benji (Benjamin Grady O'Connor, age 13)

Right!

-----

From: Cody (Cody Elliot Gallagher, age 12)

Sure we won’t make fun. It’s cool to have someone to talk about this stuff, and we won’t if we are laughing at each other. I mean, we all have embarrassing stuff that has happened to us.

-----

From: Zac (Zachary Randy Saunders, age 13)

OK, I’ll tell you guys.

You remember Christine, right? She’s the junior coach in my Puericil-boys-only basketball team. She’s just 14, but she acts all grown-up around us boys, and treats us like little kids. She’s really cool most of the time, though, she likes joking around and she has a really cute smile. I kind of like her, not that she’d ever be my girlfriend or anything. She treats me like a little boy, and if he had a boyfriend I bet he’d be older than her. She’s just a year older than me, but she says that boys her age are really immature, so there’s no hope there.

In any case, I like being with her, and she’s so good at basketball. Like, really really good. I’m the best player in the team (hope you don’t think I’m conceited, it’s just the truth), but she’s better, just brilliant.

So the other day, after practice, she invited me to her home to shoot some hoots. I thought it would be her and me, but it turned out that her kid sister (Zoey, who is 12) was there, and also a friend of Zoey (Peyton, also 12).

We played for a long while, 1 on 2, Christine and me against Zoey and Peyton. Because of this stupid Puericil I was the worst player there. I have better technique than the two younger girls, but they were more aggressive than me and played harder. But Christine was the best player, of course, so it was balanced. Zoey and Peyton soon noticed that it was easier for whoever I was defending to score, so they soon were scoring all the time against me. I tried to defend harder, but they’d just push me aside with their shoulders and there was nothing I could do.

At some point, I fell down when Peyton bumped into me hard. Christine noticed, and she said: “Hey, don’t bully him! He’s just a boy. He can’t keep up with you girls if you play so hard. You’ll hurt him.”

The two girls apologized and said they wouldn’t play so hard, that it wasn’t fair to me.

After that the game was better. Christine gave us all pointers on what we could improve, and we listened because she knows what she’s talking about. I kind of liked that she had defended me, but it was also kind of embarrassing that she had to tell the girls (younger girls) not to be rough when they played me, and that they all took girls’ superiority so much for granted.

So anyway, after the match we were tired and Christine said we all should take showers.

“You guys can use the indoors bathroom,” she told the girls. “We can save time by having Zac use the outdoors shower. I’ll keep an eye on him. Can you bring me the soap bottle, Zoey?”

The girls were bug-eyed.

“He’s going to shower here?” Zoey asked. “Like, in his shorts?”

“No, silly,” Christine laughed. “Of course not in his shorts. Who showers clothed?”

“But then, he’ll be like... naked? Here outside?”

“Sure! He’s just a boy, so it’s not like he needs any modesty,” Christine said. “Now scoot, bring me the soap, Zoey. You,” he said, pointing to me, “clothes off!”

Zoey ran into the house and Peyton just stood there, staring at me.

“He’s really going to shower here bare naked, here outside?” Peyton asked.

“Really Peyton, anyone would think you’ve never seen a naked boy,” Christine told her, rolling her eyes. “It’s no big deal. I supervise Zac and the other boys at the team I coach all the time when they shower after practice. And they sure don’t wear any clothes when they shower, do you, Zac?”

I didn’t answer, I was just staring at Peyton like a rabbit caught in the headlights.

“Come on, Zac. Don’t just stand like that. Get moving. Clothes off!”

I took off my shoes and socks to gain time, but I was going so slowly that she gave an exasperated sigh.

“See? You have make him all shy again,” she told Peyton. “Honestly, Zac. What’s there to be shy about. You are only a boy, and I see you naked after every practice anyway, don’t I? There are even moms there to help on match days, and they inspect you all over to make sure you wash properly. So don’t get all this false modesty all of a sudden.”

She took my basketball shirt and pulled up, so I had to raise my arms so she could take it off. Then she reached for my shorts and pulled them down along with my briefs, leaving me completely naked in front of Peyton, who was just in front of me, staring.

Zoey arrived then with the soap, running. She also stared at me, looking down at my weenie.

“Here’s the soap. Under the shower with you, little man,” Christine said, grabbing my arm and guiding me towards the outdoors shower they had close to the pool. The younger girls followed us closely.

“Christine, please, tell them to go inside,” I pleaded.

“Whatever for? Don’t be difficult, will you? I don’t want to spank your bottom, mister, but I’ll do it if I have to.”

As if to illustrate the point, she smacked my bottom, more like a warning than like a real spanking. I heard Zoey giggle. I was completely embarrassed, but there’s no reasoning with Christine when she gets so bossy. She acts like she’s an adult and you are just a fussy little boy.

So I got under the shower and Christine started it. It was cold, but the day was hot so it was fine. What was not fine is the way Zoey and her friend were staring at me. They were seeing everything! It may be true that Christine saw me naked all the time, but they had never seen me naked. They had not even seen me clothed before that day!

Not that Christine seemed bothered about it. She poured some soap onto her hand, stopped the shower and started washing my hair. The younger girls were still right in front of me, staring. I tried to think of a way to make them leave.

“You should go into the house and take your shower. We won’t save time otherwise,” I told them, and felt proud of having thought of that excuse. After all, the whole point of my taking my shower outdoors was saving time!

“He has a point there,” Christine told the girls. “You’d better get started on that.”

They looked at her pleadingly.

“Please, can’t we stay?” Zoey asked.

Christine thought about it while she soaped my hair. “Oh, all right,” she said.

“Christine,” I complained.

“Don’t whine, Zac. It’s fine, they can take their shower later. They probably will want to babysit at some point, so they might as well know how to wash a little boy.”

“But I’m not little. I’m older than them!”

“Well, what does it have to do with anything? They are girls, and they are already much more mature than you. Girls mature much faster, that’s why they need modesty and you don’t. It would be very wrong for a girl to be naked in front of boys, but it doesn’t matter if a boy is naked in front of girls... Close your eyes, you’re going to get soap in them if you don’t.”

So I had to close my eyes, but I could still feel the girls’ eyes on my body.

“I know boys don’t need modesty,” Peyton offered, “but he sure seems like he doesn’t like being naked in front of us.”

“Yeah, isn’t he embarrassed that we are seeing him all naked?” Zoey asked.

“That’s different,” Christine said. “It’s not real modesty, but shyness. You know how little kids get embarrassed when they see a stranger and hide behind their mom’s legs? Well, this is a bit like that. Just shyness, or childish false modesty. It’s silly for a boy to get shy like that, but it happens. You don’t have to worry about it.”

"Well, you girls better pay attention,” she added. “Since you’re here, you may as well learn how to wash a boy, in case you have to babysit one.”

So she soaped my face, warning me to keep my eyes closed, and then she proceeded to soap the rest of my body.

“See? Make sure to soap well here under his arms,” she said, soaping me there. Normally I’m ticklish, but I was so embarrassed that it did not even register.

“So we soap the rest of his body. Like this. Not missing anything,” Christine went on. “Turn around,” she told me. “Now I’ll soap his bottom. Wash well here, also. Open your legs, Zac, so that I can reach inside your cheeks.”

She washed inside my bottom, and it was super embarrassing, even more so because I knew the other girls were seeing everything.

Then she turned me around again and took my thingie in her fingers. Very carefully so as not to gte soap in them, I opened my eyes to see what she was doing. Zoey and her friend stepped forward to watch better, too.

“You have to be gentle when you wash their boy parts,” Christine said. “They are sensitive there, and you can hurt them if you are not careful. Particularly their testicles, those are really sensitive. See? You soap his little peenie like this, and you make sure to pull down the foreskin, that’s this little ring on skin around the head of his peenie, to make sure you wash below.”

“Ooh!” Zoey exclaimed. “And it hurts him if you touch his testicles?”

“Well, not if you just touch them gently. It hurts a lot if you hit them, or if you grab them roughly. So don’t do that. Not even if a boy is misbehaving. When a boy is naughty you spank his bottom, which is perfect for that. It’s padded and you can’t hurt anything important.”

“Have you ever spanked Zac?” Peyton asked.

“No, I don’t think so,” Christine said. “Although I have spanked a few of the other boys in the team. But Zac’s a good boy and doesn’t get in too much trouble. I have swatted his bottom a few times, though.”

“Yeah, like you did before, when he did not want to get in the shower,” Zoey reminded her.

“Exactly. Do not take any nonsense from a boy you are babysitting, even if he happens to be older than you,” Christine told them. “What matters is not age, but maturity. Girls are much more mature than boys, even older ones, so that’s why they should be in charge. Treat boys kindly, but don’t let there be any doubt that you are in charge and they are not.”

“Wow, I’m sure glad I’m not a boy,” Zoey said. “I would die if I had to be naked like that in front of boys.”

“Don’t be silly,” Christine grinned. “It’s not the same. Boys are too immature to feel that kind of shame. They are just boys. They are naked all the time in front of people and no one thinks twice about it. Here, do you want to try washing his peenie?”

“No!” I exclaimed, at the same time they were saying “Yes!”

“Zac, do not fuss,” Christine said, smacking my bare bottom again (have you ever noticed it does hurt more when it’s wet?). “They need to learn to take care of little boys.”

So I had to suffer as first Zoey and then Peyton washed my weenie. Not that it needed washing, with how carefully Christine had already washed it.

But they washed it anyway, being exaggeratedly careful to avoid hurting me, after all the warnings from Christine.

“Very well,” Christine commented, watching as Peyton washed it. “There’s nothing more to it. With boys you need to be kind and gentle, but firm. They need to know you are in charge, or they’ll become difficult.”

It was a lot of handling and, despite the cold water, I got a stiffie. That made the younger girls giggle.

“Look, his peenie’s getting hard,” Zoey said.

“Yeah, it can do that sometimes,” Christine smiled indulgently. “Do not worry about that. Boys do not have control over it. It’ll go down on its own."

But it remined hard while Peyton finished washing it, and then Zoey had to wash it again “to see if it was different when it got like that.”

“Honestly,” Christine told them, “with all the fuss you are making anyone would think you have never seen a naked boy.”

“I have seen naked boys before,” Peyton said. She was crouching in front of me and inspecting my thingies. “But little ones. Younger than Zac, I mean. My little brother is only six.”

“And is he modest when you see him naked?” Christine asked.

“Not really. He doesn’t really care when I see him naked.”

“Well, Zac here is just the same,” Catherine said, patting my shoulder. “He is older, of course, so he is smarter and understands things much better, but emotionally he is not much more mature than your little brother. Boys are incredibly slow to mature. They need much more discipline and supervision than girls. With girls, reasoning with them is usually enough to make them behave. With boys, you can reason with them, but then they are easily tempted to misbehave. They need help controlling themselves. They need spankings when they are naughty, and Puericil so they are easier to manage.”

“So that’s why boys get spanked and we don’t,” Zoey said.

“Yep. It’s all a matter of maturity. Girls are mature, so they don’t need spankings. Boys are immature, so they need spankings. It works out in the end because that same immaturity makes it OK for anyone to bare their bottoms and spank them when needed. It would be an indignity to do that to a girl, but boys are not mature or sophisticated enough to need that consideration. You girls would never get naked in front of boy’s, no matter what, but look how easy it is to get a boy naked, even a boy older than you.”

“This is so cool,” Peyton said as Zoey kept washing my stiffie. “I like being a girl.”

“Girls are not better or worse than boys,” Christine said. “Just different. When you are looking after a boy, just remember to be kind but firm. You are always in charge, even if the boy is older. Tell him what to do, be firm about it and spank him if he misbehaves. They'll test you, so don’t take any nonsense from them.”

After letting the younger girls wash me some more, Christine said, “Ok, he’s clean enough. Let him be and go take your own showers. Come on, don’t be brats. Give a good example.”

After some more coaxing, the two girls left, giggling. Christine rinsed me.

“Sorry I used you as a teaching aid,” she told me. “But they want to start babysitting and they really could use some hands on experience.”

Then she dried me with a towel and led me inside. She lent me some old basketball shorts and a T-shirt of her and watched me get dressed. When I was ready, she kissed my cheek and said “You are a good boy.”

I blushed, and then she accompanied me home, saying that she would take her own shower afterwards.

(The End)