Ten Seconds

By Aldric

This story is intended for ADULTS ONLY. It contains 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.

Comments may be sent to pietar_the_fearless@yahoo.com . Note that the underscores (between pietar, the, and fearless) are part of the name and must be included.

This story depicts minors in unusual conditions that may include unprotected, unsafe sex or extreme humiliation. Obviously, this does not describe real life and should not be taken as such. In the real world, behaviors as described in the story are not acceptable, tolerated, or legal. The reader should never confuse the difference between fiction and real life. This story is fictional.

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I originally posted this story on a different site, one that a few years ago disappeared. I am reposting it here.

Ten Seconds

I’d been given every opportunity, every privilege that would help me. Instead of being jealous of me, the other kids were supportive. They were looking forward to the day-long celebration when I won. I was looking forward to what I’d be doing with my arch rival.

I didn’t have to compete. We’d gone nine years without a race. Whitehall vs. Hilltop. I knew the price if I lost, but I didn’t imagine losing, I would win. Keep a picture in your mind of winning and it will come true — that’s what I’d been told and that’s what I believed. I agreed to the terms, knowing I would win. Hilltop had won the last race. That was when I was five years old, too young to remember it. The family of the boy who lost moved away after it was over; I only know his name because pictures of him are still on the wall of shame in my school. Like me, he was fourteen, lean, strong, proud. Except in the pictures he didn’t look very proud. It’s hard to be proud when you just lost the most important race you’d even been in. But the pictures of him would finally come down after I won.

Ten seconds. I was ahead for nearly the entire race. At the half mile mark I was ten strides ahead. But in the last two hundred feet, Tim Wheeler put on a burst of speed that I couldn’t match. He passed me with a hundred feet to go, still pulling in front of me with every one of his incredibly long strides. He finished with a time of 9:32. My time was 9:42. I’d lost by ten seconds.

Losing meant I’d spend a two-hour day in Hilltop. I would be the guest of honor. Their honor, for me it was to be a day of shame. The ten seconds meant I’d also spend one hour of shame in Whitehall. Half an hour for every five seconds. Pictures of my shame would be hanging on the school wall until the next person from Whitehall raced against Hilltop. It wouldn’t matter if they lost, their picture would replace mine, just as mine was going to replace the current one. My parents had informed me the day I told them I would be competing that they both had good jobs in town and we would not be moving if I lost. I’d have to live with my shame. But I was going to win. That’s what I told them.

When I woke up the next morning a brand-new pair of white briefs was on top of my dresser. They were required wear for the loser. My brother and two sisters made fun of me as I made my way to the kitchen. I yelled at them, but my mother told me to let them be. She had no sympathy for me. She had warned me she wouldn’t. She had also warned me not to compete. Someone she worked with lived in Hilltop and told her that Tim Wheeler had just posted a time, and it was faster than my best time. I didn’t listen. I would win. That was all that was in my head.

When my brother made a stupid comment I almost punched him. Mom warned me that I was on thin ice. One more problem from me and she would add five seconds to my time. That was to be my motivation to do what I was told to do. Refusal to follow the terms of the agreement I had signed allowed my time to be changed. Only some people had that right. My parents. My teachers. And Tim Walker.

My brother knew he could get away with anything right them, and he dared mom to do it. It was stupid of me, but right then I was feeling horrible enough and didn’t want to be teased by a thirteen-year-old. This time I did punch him, lightly, on his bicep. He cried out like I’d shot him.

“Tell Tim Walker that your time has been adjusted by five seconds,” my mom said. The look in her eyes told me that pleading or begging would not only fail to change her mind but might cost me another precious five seconds.

“I’m sorry you have to go through this Steve,” my mom said to me. “But you knew what would happen and you made your choice. Now you have to live with the results.”

It was about three miles to Tim Walker’s house, most of it uphill. I had an hour to get there, which should be plenty of time. Since it was fairly early on a Saturday morning the streets were emptier than they would have been on a weekday, but since everyone in town knew I’d be passing by they were not completely empty. No one I passed had any sympathy for me either. I’d lost to the town’s rivals.

Tim was waiting for me on his front porch along with four girls, all appeared to be the same age as Tim and me. They got up to meet me as I came up the walk.

“You’re early, but that’s okay. We have two hours to enjoy having you as our guest,” he said.

“I had five seconds added to my time,” I said to him as they led me into a park near the center of town.

“Already? What’d you do?”

“I punched my little brother for teasing me.” Lying was another item that could cost me time. I was determined to tell the truth no matter how much it hurt.

“I’m sure he’ll enjoy that extra half hour with you tomorrow. And we get extra half hour with you today. I like that. The longer time gives us more time to ensure you’re completely humiliated.” I was about to complain, but then remembered another rule—no complaining, no begging, don’t bring further disgrace on your town. Take what happens without complaint or he could add more time.

We arrived at the place I never wanted to reach. Just like in times long since passed, my shame was to include being placed in a pillory. This was a modern one, and the holes for where my head and wrists would go were padded. And it was adjustable. The holes for my arms could be extended to match my shoulder width, and the entire top could be raised or lowered from nearly vertical to just a couple of feet off the ground. Currently it was at the raised all the way up.

Knowing I had to be naked, I started to unbutton my shirt, but Tim stopped me.

“Good, you know what I want and aren’t wasting any time. But I thought it would be a whole lot more embarrassing if I let the girls strip you and put you in the pillory.” He stepped back and left me to the four girls.

The first one unbuttoned my shirt slowly, rubbing my chest and gently pinching my nipples as she worked. In any other circumstance, I would have loved this, but it was having an effect I didn’t want to have just then. I was getting hard. And I realized that was her intention. Once she unbuttoned the last button she removed my shirt and tossed it on the ground next to me.

“Step into it,” she said as the other girls unlocked the sliding boards so that my head would fit between them. Once the had my neck and wrists in the holes on the back plate, they slid the front plate forward and locked it in place. I was now immobilized. Yeah, I could kick, but I wasn’t that stupid. There was a clock on a tower in front of me. My two and a half hours had started.

Tim turned and reminded those present that they were prohibited from taking any pictures. I knew that if they were caught they would spend some time in the pillory once I was done with it. A strong enough punishment to ensure that the only pictures taken were the official ones that would hang in the schools.

The next girl stepped up and unbuckled my shorts. I could feel her gently squeezing my dick as she slowly pulled my zipper down. She let go and my shorts dropped to my ankles. I couldn’t look down, but I knew my dick was making a tent out of the front of my briefs. Two girls lifted my legs one at a time and then my shorts joined my shirt on the ground.

“Now for the best part,” Tim said. “Time to see if you’re a man or a boy.”

The last girl stood in front of me, looking down. I expected her to pull my briefs down, but instead she grabbed the sides and started rolling the waist band down. Each turn exposed more of my body, and she was taking her time rolling them. I looked around and noticed that the park was beginning to fill with other kids. They’d all come to see the show.

“You were wrong Tim,” the girl said. “He does have some hair down there. But not a lot. And not for long.”

My briefs were now rolled down to the base of my dick, exposing the thin line of pubic hair. I’m blond, and my pubes were a light brown color and very thin. And the girl had stopped rolling my briefs down and stepped back to let the other girls have a look.

“How long before we get to measure him?” one asked. “He’s got an erection, but it doesn’t look very big.”

“I don’t know, a few seconds to let the other kids come and have a close look. He knows they are coming down and off, but let’s not rush it for him. Let him dwell on what will happen. I think the anticipation of being naked in public will be almost as bad as when he is naked.”

She knew me well. I was about to be stripped naked in front of a gathering crowd of kids, and it was having an effect. My dick was as hard as it could be and I could feel it start to twitch. And, as the girl had anticipated, I couldn’t stand knowing that my fate was certain but having to wait for it. I just wanted her to just get it over with instead of making me wait.

Once Tim and the four girls stepped back, other kids, mostly girls, but not all, came forward. My dick jumped and they all laughed. One girl reached out and grabbed the tip. “Oh, it feels different than I expected,” she said. Once she let go several others wanted to touch it.

“Wait, stop touching him for now,” one of Tim’s girls said. “You’ll make him shoot and we won’t be able to see it.”

They stepped back and my shame grew and I wasn’t even naked yet. I could see the clock on the tower. I’d only been in the pillory for twelve minutes. And it was going to get worse.

They let me think about it for another minute before one of them stepped forward again and continued rolling the briefs from the top to the bottom. She was only able to roll it just one more turn, but then it was pressed tight against my dick.

She solved the problem by pressing my dick down as far as she could and stretching the roll of underwear out as far as she could until my dick sprang free. The she stopped again. “We’ll enjoy this for a few minutes before we get to see his balls,” she said to the kids in the audience.

Again, the other kids moved forward to look and touch, and this time she didn’t stop them. Hands squeezing my dick, or worse yet rubbing it, were driving me crazy. I didn’t want to shoot with several dozen other kids watching, but after a minute or so I couldn’t help it. My legs tensed and I would have bent at the knees if I could as my balls sent several pulses of my watery cum though my dick and nearly onto the girl in front of me. She got missed more by luck than anything else. But I didn’t care. I’d just been jacked off in front of dozens of kids who were now laughing and cheering.

They left me like that for another few minutes before one of the girls grabbed my briefs and pushed them to the ground.

And they wanted me fully naked, for as soon as my briefs were over my feet and added to the pile of clothing they untied and removed my shoes and socks.

“Do you measure your dick Steve?” Tim asked me. I could feel my ears burn even hotter. I didn’t want to answer, but I had to. I had to answer every question. And I had to tell the truth.

“Yes,” I said softly.

“I didn’t catch that, say it again, louder this time.”

“Yes,” I said louder.

“Yes what? What are you saying yes to?” Tim was enjoying this.

“Yes, I measure my dic—uh, my penis.”

“And how long is it?” Looking at the smile on his face was worse than being naked at that moment.

“Four and a half inches long,” I said, and heard the laughter from my audience.

“You must mean when it’s soft. How long is it when it is hard like it is now?”

I hated him more than I’d ever hated anyone. “Four and a half inches long,” I said again, causing even more laughter.

“No, don’t laugh, that’s near the bottom of the normal range for a thirteen-year-old,” Tim said, turning to the other kids. But then he turned back to me and said, “Oh, but wait, how old are you Steve?”

“I’m fourteen.”

“And how long ago did you turn fourteen?”

“Three months ago,” I said as a tear rolled down my cheek.

“Four and a half inches, that’s pretty short for his age. If he’s even telling the truth, and it doesn’t look that long to me. Who wants to test him?”

A dozen hands went up and I was surprised to see that even a few boys had raised their arms. Tim picked a girl from up near the front and handed her a ruler. “See how long it really is.”

With one hand holding the ruler and the other holding the tip of my dick she pressed the ruler along the side. “Maybe four and a half,” she said. “Looks more like four and seven-sixteenths.” More laughter. And now for me fear—was he going to use that information to declare that I’d lied?

“Well, we’ll give him the benefit of the doubt and call it four and a half inches,” Tim said. I let out the breath I’d been holding. “Now, those of you who have completed sixth grade have learned of something called Tanner Stages. I’ve got the health book we used right here. Grace, you’re in seventh grade, so what Tanner Stage would you say Steve is in?” He handed her the book.

“Well, his pubic hair is just starting to grow, and his penis is really short. I don’t see any hair under his pits yet, and his areola isn’t obvious yet. If we had the chart we could see what volume his testicles are…” She put down the book and grabbed my sack, separating the two balls inside.

“Ouch,” I said and tried to pull away, but of course I couldn’t.

“Don’t squeeze them, it really hurts if you do,” Tim said.

“Sorry, I didn’t know they were that sensitive. She felt along the sides of both balls and then pulled her hand back with her fingers spread. Her other hand held the ruler. “His right testicle is about an inch long.” I’d guess he’s about a Tanner Stage Two.”

“Steve, do you have the same health class that we have?”

I knew what was coming, but I had to answer. I told him we did.

“And is a Tanner Stage Two normal for someone your age?”

“It could be,” I tired, knowing I could defend that if I had too. Or at least, I hoped I could.

“At what age range are boys normally at Stage Two?” Tim asked. He picked up the book and flipped a few pages and then held it up to my face.

“Between eleven and thirteen,” I said.

“So, you’ve got the sex equipment of an eleven-year-old, would that be a correct statement?”

“Or thirteen,” I said, trying to make it sound better but know that everyone had gotten Tim’s point. I was sexually immature.

“Or eleven,” Tim said, closing the book. “At fourteen, we’d expect a Stage three at least. Based on that, you’re just a little boy, aren’t you?”

“I guess.”

“Don’t toy with the rules Steve. Based on your junk and the text book, you’re equal to most sixth graders, right or wrong?”

“Right,” I was forced to say. Anything else could cost me another hour of time.

“Before now, has anyone else seen your tiny dick?”

“My pediatrician.”

“A baby doctor? You’re still seeing a doctor who treats children?”

I knew that was common, many of the kids in my grade saw the same doctor my parents took me to, but Tim was trying to humiliate me as much as possible. And I had to answer the question without trying to explain. “Yes,” I said.

“Is it a male or female doctor?”

“Male. Dr. Jenner.”

“Has he told you that your dick is a baby dick?”

“No.”

“Maybe you should try a different doctor, because your dick is really small. But beyond your baby doctor, has anyone else witnessed what we’re seeing? Your brother? Your friends? Kids in your gym class?”

“No, nobody.”

“Does your school have private showers?”

“No.” I knew where he was going and answered what I assumed would be his next question. “I wear a bathing suit on gym days.” I also knew that most other boys did the same. We were all shy. I wanted so much to ask Tim if he showered naked in school, but knew I couldn’t. This was about me. Humiliating me any way they could. And they had just under two hours left to do more.

Tim turned to the crowd, which was still growing bigger. “I give you Steve Persall, age fourteen,” he said, stepping aside. “Angela here, using our text book on the human body, determined that he is at best a Tanner Stage two. Who can tell me a feature that separates Stage 1 from Stage 2?”

Several people yelled out, “Pubic hair,” and Tim smiled. “Okay, I say we make him a Tanner Stage 1.” He turned to me and asked, “Which method do you want us to use—hot wax or shaving? And I’m going to let you decide by whom you pick to do it. Pick wrong and it will be the wax.”

I wasn’t brave. I hated pain, and had a very low tolerance for it. I was very near to crying and this was making it worse. Suddenly, inspiration struck me. And it wouldn’t violate any of the rules. I looked up and asked, “Who wants to come and shave me?” I saw Tim frown. He hadn’t thought of that.

One girl was very excited, jumping up and down and yelling, “Me! Me!” I chose her and she picked up the bag at her feet. To my relief, it had shaving cream and some safety razors in it.

“My sister and one of my friends are going to help,” she said as she came forward. Another girl, about the same age, came with her, and one who was clearly younger followed. The first girl sprayed my groin liberally with the shaving cream and they all took their time rubbing it in, making me ready to cum again as they did.

They worked carefully, which meant slowly, and I did cum again as several times they grabbed my dick to move it out of the way. As the clock showed that I’d been here for an hour and a half they finished. I still had an hour to go. But much to my surprise, they weren’t done. They next moved to my pits, where I only had a few hairs. And after that they did both of my legs. They wiped off the remaining shaving cream and stepped back, giving the audience a view of my now hairless groin.

“Wait,” one of the girls said. “He still has a bit of hair on the back of his balls. We need to get that too, but that’ll be more difficult.”

But Tim was more than willing to help out. He solved the problem my lowering the top of the pillory and having me spread my legs to the side until my balls hung down below my ass, giving the girls a new view and easy access. One cupped my balls while the other sprayed more shaving cream on the back of my balls, and then it only took a few more minutes before I was hairless from the neck down.

“Pull his cheeks apart and make sure he doesn’t have any hair around his crap hole,” Tim said as they finished up.

The girls spread my cheeks and many kids came around behind me to have a look. “Nope, no hair here,” one girl said, but they didn’t let my cheeks close until all who wanted to had a look at my anus.

Once that was done, Tim raised the pillory again and invited the official photographer to come and take the pictures. He took about a dozen from many angles. Later, Tim would choose the best four. Two to hang in his school and two that would hang in mine.

“Now, for the finale,” Tim said. “Tar and feathering.” I started to protest that it wasn’t allowed, but he stopped me. “Using actual hot tar is not allowed, I checked. What we’re going to do was determined to be permitted. But feel free to complain if you want.”

If he was telling the truth, the last thing I wanted to do was complain as that would only earn me more time. But only if he was telling the truth. I didn’t want to risk it, so I stayed quiet.

“We’re going to use this,” he said to me, holding up a red and blue can with a red top. It was labeled “Multi-Purpose Spray Adhesive.”

“The directions on how to remove it from hair and skin are on the back, we’ll leave you the empty cans to clean up so you might want to keep one,” he said. He passed out other cans to several kids while others picked up boxes of corn flakes. As the glue was applied the corn flakes were pressed against it.

They covered my entire body except for my face. I could see my arms and there was no skin visible, just the cereal. Then I was left to be laughed at for the remainder of my time. Tim must have been worried about going long because he actually released me with about five minutes to go based on the clock in the tower.

“Remember, your underpants and shoes and socks are all you’re allowed to wear until you get home. And you have to take the pillory with you. You’re lucky it has wheels, in the old days the loser had to drag it between the two towns.”

I dressed as I was allowed. The hadn’t covered my feet with glue and cereal so at least I was able to get my shoes on. The briefs rubbed against my body, breaking apart the cereal but not uncovering my skin. I put the rest of my clothes on the pillory and Tim showed me how to lower the wheels.

It was a much longer walk home, and much more embarrassing. Kids from my town were lined up to greet me, and laugh at me. I saw a couple of my friends who did their best not to laugh, but in the end failed. I couldn’t blame them, I must have been very comical, dressed in whitey-tighties and covered from head to foot in Corn Flakes.

I brought the pillory to the center of town and headed home, dreading the greeting I’d get from my brother and two sisters.

The return to my house was worse than anything I imagined. Both of my sisters and my brother had a friend over, and they were in the front yard playing when they heard the laughter coming from other kids up the block. They all ran to join the dozen or so kids following me home.

My mother had me go to the back yard and told my brother to set up a hose. She went into the house and came out with three scrub brushes and handed them out to my siblings. My brother wanted to remove my briefs, but my mom, thankfully, told him to leave them after making sure there were no cornflakes inside them. She took one look at my hair and went back to the house.

The brushes hurt, but they didn’t remove all the cornflakes and none of the glue. I had forgotten to take one of the empty spray bottles of glue with instruction on how to remove it and when my mom came out she told my brother and sisters to stop attacking me with the brushes. She didn’t even bother trying to get it out of my hair, she had come out with a pair of scissors and was cutting my hair right down to my scalp and ignoring my pleas not to. While she asked me what the container of glue looked like and then had my older sister look it up on her cell phone.

My hair was long for a guy, but that was the way I liked it. But when she was done it was chopped unevenly to within a half inch of my scalp, which my brother said he could see because my hair was so thin to start with.

“We need to soak him in olive oil for five minutes and then peel it off his skin,” my sister said as my mom finished butchering my hair. “For hair, soaking in shampoo will loosen it.”

“I have some, go and get it. And then see if the neighbors have any,” my mom said. “You two go too. Bring back as much as you can.”

My privates and butt were still covered with the cornflakes, so they came off. Soon I was being covered in oil. They used paint brushes to spread it and to keep it from dripping off. After a few minutes, the glue was soft enough for them to pull it from my skin. My sisters and their friends had a lot of fun removing the adhesive from my privates. Then, I was given soap and the hose and told to scrub the oil off.

I was getting tired and angry, but if I lost my temper, I could find myself back in Hilltop for more time, so I worked hard at keeping myself as calm as I could.

Once I was clean and dry I wanted to hide in the house, but my mom wouldn’t hear of it. “You made a stupid mistake and now you can pay the price. You can come in to use the bathroom, to eat, and when it’s time for bed. The rest of the time you can spend outside.” At least she got me a clean pair of briefs to wear. I sucked worse knowing that I was allowed to be dressed now, but again, I didn’t dare complain. It was one of the few times in my life that I wished bedtime would come fast and early.

The next day was to be no better. I was told to get dressed even though I knew I’d be losing the clothes again soon. As I went to the kitchen to eat I could hear one of my sisters talking on the phone to someone. She sounded like she was enjoying the conversation, but she didn’t say a lot so I had no idea what was being discussed or with whom.

Just before nine in the morning I left and headed for the park where I’d left the pillory. My younger sister and brother, and several kids from up and down my street, came along with me. My older sister had left earlier. I stood next to the pillory and waited for the clock I could see turn to nine o’clock. When it did, I started to remove my shirt.

“Tim Wheeler said we should have some girls undress you,” my sister said. “And that they should take their time doing it because you can’t do anything to stop it and just want it to end.” She walked up to me, followed by three girls from my class in school. “And I found the perfect girls to do it. So just do as they say and let them do all the work.”

This time I had a pull-over shirt on, and all three took their time raising it and torturing me by touching my belly and nipples as they slowly pulled the shirt up over my head. Once it was removed they put me in the pillory. Then they worked together to remove my shorts. No hurried movements; nothing to make it easy for me. Every move was meant to stimulate me so that even though I was embarrassed and scared, I was still getting a boner. The girls giggled as they worked.

As had been done the day before, they paused after removing my shorts to let the kids watching have a good look at my now tented-out briefs. My sisters and even my brother had front row seats, which was even more embarrassing for me.

They didn’t roll the briefs down, but they did pull them an inch and then stop, step back, and laugh at my discomfort before pulling them down another inch. And they repeated until the elastic band was pressed against my boner.

Then came the moment they all were looking forward to—the revealing of my privates. They pulled the elastic band out as far as they could and lowered it another inch, letting my penis free, where it stood up and pointed to a piece of empty sky while I had to endure the cheers and laughter of dozens of the kids I went to school with every day. My now hairless groin was in full view, and after the short pause, my hairless balls too. After that they completed the job of striping me without further delay.

The entire process had taken half an hour. If I hadn’t been so stupid yesterday and not punched my brother, I’d only have a half hour to endure now. But instead I had a full hour. And there were more kids celebrating my humiliation than had been at Hilltop yesterday. It wasn’t fair, but there was nothing I could do about it now.

After the crowd had been given enough time to laugh at my boner, my lack of pubic hair, the chop job my mom had done on the hair on my head, and my nudity in general, my brother came forward carrying a paddle.

“Mom approved this, and she checked with the rule committee. Because she’s your parent, some of the rules don’t apply to her.” He was swinging the paddle through the air, letting me hear the noise it made. “But I’ll offer you a trade. If you agree to remain naked and not cover up until this time tomorrow I won’t use the paddle. But each time you cover up I get to give you two strokes or added more hours to the time you spend naked. Also, you can’t touch yourself down there except to pee; same result if you do.”

“How many times?” I asked, trying unsuccessfully to let my fear come out in my voice.

“Your age plus one, so fifteen. And I promise, I’ll make each one count. Take my deal now because once I start future deals will not be as generous.”

Okay, I’m a wimp. I can’t stand pain. And my brother was counting on that. I took his deal.

“I hope you remembered that you have to return the pillory to Hilltop today,” he said with a smile.

I hadn’t. I’d have to return to Hilltop naked. I’d been dreading returning in just my briefs, this was going to be far worse. He hung the paddle from a hook on the side of the pillory, probably to keep it in my mind.

Once he was done, it was open season on me for anyone to come up and say or do anything as long as they didn’t hurt me. Most, but not all of the boys, just wanted to check me out. I’d have done the same if it was them instead of me. But some were willing to show the girls what to watch for when I was about ready to shoot. “When you see that, stop touching his dick. He’ll hate it, trust us,” they said to the girls.

And the girls were quick learners. For the rest of the time I was brought right to the brink a dozen times but didn’t get to finish, and it was torture. It wasn’t until just before my time was up that I was offered early release if I finished the job myself. I needed to cum so bad that I immediately agreed. My need was so great that I’d forgotten completely my brother’s terms for not using the paddle.

As I finished jacking off with nearly all the kids in my school watching me, my brother came forward with the paddle. “You forgot, no touching. Two strokes or two hours, which will it be?”

More shame, and none of the kids acted like the felt the least bit sorry for me. They were here for a show and I was still providing one. I thought I could take two strokes so I submitted to the paddle. After all, he was a year younger than me and didn’t have any more muscle than I did.

But I was wrong. He had me bend over and grab my ankles. The first stroke made a thunderous clap as it hit my butt and a moment later my entire ass was on fire. I stood up and started rubbing and jumping around. The spanking dance, if you’ve ever been spanked you know the steps. I didn’t want the second one, but now his price was four extra hours naked, and the time started now instead of when he first offered it. I’d be naked until almost three in the afternoon tomorrow.

“You can wear shoes and socks,” he said. “Then we’ll hang around here until it’s time for lunch. Mom is bringing a picnic basket later, so we don’t even need to go home.”

The kids from my town were ecstatic to be witnessing my misfortune. True, it was my decision to race, even though I’d been warned not to. And I was stupid to have fallen to my brother’s bait and punch him. But that didn’t mean even my friends had to stay and watch and laugh at me. Even though I’d have probably done the same if the tables were turned.

Just before my mom showed up I got caught covering up. My brother just assumed I’d take the extra time, and he was right. I’d now remain naked until bedtime tomorrow night.

After lunch, he said it was time for me to return the Pillory to Hilltop. “But,” he added, “I don’t want to follow you up there right now to make sure you don’t cover up or touch yourself. So get into it.”

He secured the boards around my neck and wrists, lowered the pillory top down so that I was bent slightly at the waist, and then lowered the wheels.

“You should be able to get it up there like that. If nobody up there will free you then I’ll come up in a couple of hours to let you out.”

It was a long slow walk up the hill to Hilltop. And I was hard again. The closer I got, the more kids came to look and laugh. And this time, there was no prohibition on taking pictures, so it seemed that everyone in town had a cell phone out. I hoped that none of them were considering doing anything painful.

Clearly, the word of my brother’s conditions had spread to Hilltop, for the girls there took turns again bringing me right to the brink of shooting and then stopping and laughing at me as I begged them to finish the job. After two hours of that my dick was getting sore and I was in desperate need of jacking off (or being jacked off, at that point I didn’t care which.) I was offered a deal—they’d let me out of the pillory if I agreed to do it myself. Or they would continue until my brother showed up.

Maybe my brother wouldn’t find out. At any point, I needed to do it so bad that the consequences didn’t seem to matter. For the second time that day I willingly jacked off to a large audience. Once I was done I turned to head for home.

“Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” my brother asked as I turned. He’d been behind me, watching. “We’re at twelve strokes or four days naked now.”

“I can’t go to school naked,” I said.

“Actually, you can go there naked. While at school, you’ll wear your whity-tighties except for gym, which you will do naked. But once you are off school property, you’ll be naked. It’s that or the paddle.”

As he knew I would, I accept the time. We walked home, him proudly, and me full of shame. For the next four days after today I’d be naked.

He put a camera in my room so that I couldn’t jack off in the night without him knowing. It was totally embarrassing to ask, but I had to. “What if I do it in my sleep?”

“A wet dream? You’re lucky there, mom said that’s beyond your control and won’t count. But you’d better really be asleep. Oh, and I’ve decided to let Samantha and Kimberly watch the video of you sleeping. They wanted to, and you’d hate having them watch you have a wet dream more than if I saw it.”

No covers, just a bottom sheet and pillow. That’s all I had, knowing there were two cameras. One directly over the bed and one above the door that showed the entire room. Just knowing what they were for gave me a boner. One that I couldn’t do anything about if I ever wanted to wear clothes again.

The last night was the worst. I’d gone three nights without jacking off, and with each passing hour my need grew greater. I had a boner through most of my day in school. Since every kid in school had already seen me naked and watched me jack off you’d have thought that it wouldn’t interest them that much, but I was constantly laughed at and had to suffer through ‘accidental’ contact as I made my way through the halls between classes.

Finally, the time ended. It was bedtime, and I was allowed to wear my usual boxers for the first time in nearly a week. As I went to my room and closed the door I took care of my need. It wasn’t until the next morning (when I came down to breakfast fully dressed) that I realized I’d forgotten about the cameras. My sisters and brother were giggling as they watched me play with myself. At least I had the comfort of knowing it would be the last time they’d ever see it again, and I made sure mom made them delete the videos.

My pictures were hanging in the ‘Shame’ case next to the trophy case. Kids like to look at me as I walked by and then look at the picture. Two more pictures hung in my living room for my friends and my sibling’s friends to see every time they came over. I had cousins who visited from out of state and couldn’t stop looking at them and then laughing at me. All because of ten seconds.

(End of File)