The All-Over Tan

By Aldric

Copyright 2013 by Aldric Pietar@spamex.com, all rights reserved
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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 made to Pietar@spamex.com
 
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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The All-Over Tan
 
I have a problem. Well, actually, I’m 13 years old so I have several problems. But the biggest one right now is that summer is nearly over and I only have two weeks to get a sun tan. Not just a regular one, but everywhere. See, Rocky, otherwise known as Duncan Lewis (don’t tell anyone I told you his real name) and Chad River expect to see me with a total tan. Actually, they don’t expect to see me with one, and that’s the problem. They are in my class at school but they’re not exactly friends, although we were back in elementary school. Now I’m not part of the crowd they hang around with. And when school starts I won’t be able to hide the fact that my upper legs and my bottom are pale white.
 
I thought that by the age of 13 all boys begin puberty and certain changes happen. But apparently my body didn’t get that message. And, well, Rocky and Chad saw me, so they know about me. I’m a freak. No hair; and I still can’t pass the 4” mark on the ruler even when hard. And they’re going to share that with the world. Well, maybe not the world, but with everyone at Benson Middle School, which is the world as far as I’m concerned.
 
This is getting kind of confusing. Maybe it would be better if I started at the beginning. At the start of summer I was put in charge of Kirk and Kevin. They’re two of my brothers. I have three, Rick, who’s 14, or he was then. He’s 15 now. Anyway, next is me. I’m Randy, and like I said, I’m 13 now. Then there is Kirk who is 11, and finally Kevin who is 10. Normally Rick would be in charge, but he has a part-time job now working at the car wash for six dollars an hour. So watching Kevin fell to me, and I guess since Kirk is always getting into trouble somehow I’m supposed to keep him under control too. See, my mom works part time so she doesn’t get home until noon. And of course my dad doesn’t get home until five, so someone has to watch them.
 
I seem to have digressed again. Let me get back to how my problem started. The one about needing the tan, not my size problem. I don’t know how to solve that problem. Actually, I don’t know how to solve either problem, but the problem I’m trying to get to is that I need a complete tan in the next two weeks or else.
 
Okay, I’ll start over again. So I’m in charge of Kirk and Kevin, and they each have a friend over. It was early in the morning and it was already a hot day and I didn’t have any plans so I was still in my pajama bottoms. Actually, they aren’t really pajamas; they’re just an old pair of cotton shorts that I wear to bed in the summer. I also wear them sometimes in the winter if it isn’t too cold.
 
I’ve got to focus here or I’m never going to get through the story. So I’m watching TV and the four boys are playing some kind of game. Then I notice that it had gotten real quiet, so I got up off the couch and went to see what they up to. I searched the house, but didn’t find them. Kevin isn’t allowed to leave the yard without telling me where he’s going, but I didn’t see any of them in the back yard. I thought I heard a noise in the garage, so I went out there. Then I remembered the bulb was burned out. I remembered because I promised my dad I’d change it while the cars were gone, but I hadn’t done that yet.
 
Anyway, I heard a giggle and asked, “What are you guys doing out here in the dark?”
 
A flashlight beam hit me in the eyes and blinded me and the next thing I knew is they were all on me. My cotton shorts were tugged down before I even knew what was happening and then the garage door opened. I was pushed outside and they used a remote to close the door behind us.
 
“We’re going to Tim’s house to play,” Kirk said with a laugh. “We’ll be home before mom gets back to let you in.” They all ran off. It wasn’t until that moment that I realized I was naked in the front yard of my house!
 
I ran to the back yard as quickly as I could, where I checked the back door, which was locked. I had a few options. I could break a window, but that would set off the alarm. See, we have a burglar alarm that normally never gets set, but the glass-break part is always active, something Rick learned when he hit a baseball through the kitchen window last summer.
 
I could go next door and borrow our spare key from Mrs. Thatcher, but of course Gail Thatcher might be home. She’s in the same grade as me, and I didn’t have anywhere near enough courage to risk being seen naked by her. Actually, I probable didn’t have enough to be seen by Mrs. Thatcher either.
 
So my only remaining option was to wait for my brothers to get home and put up with their laughter and teasing. See, Kirk is about the same size as me, and he actually has three hairs, which he made sure to show me. Not that I looked, I didn’t want to see his hair. Okay, so I looked, but only for a second. Long enough to see he really was as big as me and did have at least one hair. He might have had the other two as well but I didn’t look that close to see.
 
It was around eight in the morning, and I figured my brothers would come home early enough to tease me for a while before they had to let me in before mom got home. So I got as comfortable as I could while hiding under the table on the back porch, where I figured I’d be for the next couple of hours.
 
Of course, as soon as I got comfortable I realized I needed to pee. And I needed to pee right away, it wasn’t going to wait. So looking around to see if anyone was watching I left my cover and to the edge of the grass. I knew it was going to smell, but I could blame it on the neighbor’s dog if either of my parents smelled it.
 
I was just shaking off the last few drops when of all people Rocky and Chad River cut through my back yard. There was no chance they hadn’t seen me. I was probably the only naked teen boy outside for miles around.
 
“What the hell are you doing outside naked?” Dunkin—I mean Rocky—asked.
 
I couldn’t tell him that a couple of 10 and 11 year olds had locked me out of my own house naked, so I had to think fast.
 
“I don’t mind,” I lied. “I’m a nudist. I guess I just forgot to dress before coming outside.”
 
Now, why I chose that lie I don’t know. Anyone who knows me knows that I’ve always been very modest. Even when I was five and some kids in the neighborhood picked me to be the patient for a game of doctor I ran home. Of course, I’d played many times when other kids were the patient without feeling the need to leave. I didn’t mind seeing other kids naked; I just minded when it was me who was naked. Anyway, I should have thought a few minutes longer and come up with something better.
 
“You’re a nudist?” Rocky asked. No surprise, he sounded like he didn’t believe it.
 
“Yeah, didn’t you know? We go to nudist places every summer,” I said.
 
“I thought you just went to see your aunt in Cleveland or something,” Chad said.
 
“Yeah, I guess I never wanted anyone to know, so I just said that. But really, I’m a nudist.”
 
“Then how come you don’t have an all-over tan?”
 
“Well, we haven’t gone anywhere this year,” I said. “My parents both work and Rick has a job now too. But maybe before the summer ends we will. That’s the real reason I’m out here—so that I can work on my tan before we get to the nudist place.”
 
Dunkin and Chad exchanged looks. “Well, don’t let us stop you,” Rocky said. “Come out here in the sun and lay down.”
 
I had to do it, or admit that I was lying. I’d never hear the end of it if they found out my little brothers had done this to me. So I walked out into the sun and sat down on the grass hoping that none of the neighbors would chose that moment to look out their windows and into my back yard.
 
“Man, I can’t believe you still look like you’re ten and this fall we’ll be in eighth grade,” Rocky said. He paused, and then continued. “And when school starts we expect to see that all-over tan. Or we’ll see to it that you’ll be the first eighth grader ever chosen to be the Streaker.” He and Chad moved off laughing.
 
The Streaker is an old tradition at Benson Middle School. Being chosen is not an honor. Rarely is a sixth grader chosen, it’s nearly always a seventh grader. And it’s always a boy, much to my disappointment. Last year Rodney Wellington was chosen, probably because he’s from England so he stood out. But I had been told I was a close second. He was the only boy I’d ever seen who wasn’t circumcised. (Actually, he was the only boy above the age of six or so I’d ever seen naked except for my brothers.) Much to my surprise he laughed through it all and never seemed bothered that every kid in school was seeing him naked. When he was done he had to come and shake my hand and tell me how lucky I was to come in second and ask if I thought he had done a good enough job. I told him, “Sure, you did great.”
 
Streaker day is always the on the first Friday of the school year. First we have a fire drill, which gets everyone outside. Then a bunch of eighth graders are put in charge of us while the teachers have meetings. The rules are pretty strict and those in charge know that they have to control things or they could be suspended. I think the teachers know what’s really going on. After all, it was probably taking place back when they were students.
 
The person chosen as the Streaker doesn’t know until the moment before he is stripped. Rumor has it that if the Streaker doesn’t come to school that day he suffers an even worse punishment. The Streaker has to move rocks in a wheelbarrow from one pile to another. And the amount of rocks you had to move depended on what grade the Streaker was in. To be chosen as an eighth grader would be far more embarrassing, especially if that eighth grader still looked like a sixth grader as I did. So as you can see, I had to get an all-over tan.
 
The problem was, I couldn’t do it in my backyard. Eventually a neighbor would see and then my parents would find out. And that would certainly be serious enough to get paddled. My parents almost never spanked and only the worst wrong doings called for a paddle to be used. My older brother Rick got paddled last year and he cried the whole time and for a while afterward. It was the first time I’d seen him cry since he was seven. I’d been spanked twice, the most recent when I was eleven, and I cried. Kirk gets spanked about once a month. He fake-cries so my dad doesn’t extend the punishment but once back in our room he laughs.
 
Once Rocky and Chad left I returned to my hiding spot on the porch. My brothers came back after about an hour and had several more friends with them. They told me they would give me the remote to the garage door if I stood up and did ten jumping jacks for them, so I did. They almost fell over they were laughing so hard. “I told you he looked like Kevin,” Kirk said.
 
“Hey, that’s not fair,” Kevin complained. “My snake is bigger than that little worm!”
 
They all laughed again, but Kirk pulled the remote out of a pocket. “I’ll leave this in the mail box for you,” he said. “Make sure to check for messages in the box.” They all ran back down the driveway laughing.
 
I wanted to beg them to let me in the back, but I didn’t want to give them that added pleasure, so I peeked around the side of the house. From what I could see the front looked empty so I used the last of my courage to run to the front, look for people or cars, and then run to the mail box. The remote was in there, and I grabbed it and pressed the button. The door stayed down.
 
From a few houses down the street I heard the boys yelling and cheering, which would attract attention to anyone outside. Then I saw something stuck all the way in the back of the mail box. “I put the battery in the Thatcher’s mail box,” the note read.
 
I gave up worrying about who might see me and ran next door and grabbed the battery. I put the battery in while I was running back to my house and then used the remote to open the garage door. I got back inside knowing my brothers would tell this story to everyone they knew. But there was nothing I could do about that now, what I needed was to somehow keep Rocky and Chad from making sure I was picked as the Streaker. The easiest way seemed to be to just get the tan.
 
For a while I put off thinking about just how I was going to get the all-over tan, but as the summer progressed I realized was going to have to do it. I couldn’t do it at home because I had to watch my brothers and who knows what they would do if I were outside naked. Besides, the back yard had no privacy at all. So I had to wait until after my mom got home from work. I tried the park, but it was full of kids. I found a place and was just about to drop my shorts when I heard a noise and quickly secured them around my waist just as Kirk rode by on his bike. He wanted to know what I was up to, and I made up a story that he didn’t believe, but he rode off. I waited for ten minutes and was just about to try it again when he came back. This time he got off his bike and said it looked like a cool place to hang out and he and his friend starting wrestling in the grass.
 
After that it seemed to me that whenever I left the house one of my brothers seemed to show up, like as though they were following me. While my arms and legs were getting tan the rest of me was still white, and the start of school was getting closer.
 
The summer passed until I realized that the first day of school was only two weeks away and I needed a plan. However, before I could come up with one, my parents dropped a bombshell. We were heading to Cleveland to visit my aunt for a week and a half. The chances of me getting away alone were slight, and as it turned out it wouldn’t have mattered because it was cloudy and raining the whole time we were there.
 
So that’s how I got to where I am now. I don’t have the all-over tan and cloudy weather is scheduled right up to the start of school, so even if I could get away it wouldn’t matter. I’m totally screwed if Rocky and Chad can really get me picked this year. But then I started thinking, everyone gets three votes, and you have to turn your votes in to the selection committee to prevent ballet box stuffing. Maybe I don’t really have anything to worry about.
 
Rocky and Chad came by to visit me the day before the start of the school year.
 
“You got that all-over tan that nudists are so famous for?” Rocky asked. While I stammered an answer, Chad came up behind me and pulled the back of my shorts out.
 
“Nope,” Chad said, “The tan line ends at his waist.”
 
“It was cloudy and raining the whole time we were there,” I said.
 
“But you were going to spend the summer getting tanned,” Rocky said. “Or, at least, that’s what you told us. But since you’re a nudist, you won’t mind being picked for this year’s Streaker, will you. See you at school shorty.”
 
The selection committee was secretly announced on Wednesday, the first day of school. Rocky and Chad are both on the committee, so I’m officially worried again.
 
I voted for my brother Kirk with one ballet and for Rocky with the next two. They weren’t supposed to read them, but Rocky opened mine and laughed. I thought he’d be pissed, but he wasn’t.
 
“Good choices shorty,” he said to me. “But you should have spent two votes on him instead of me. He’s the one who set you up and he’s been gathering votes for most of the summer. In fact, your time outside was staged just to get a few more votes. He told me I’d find you out back and got my support when you lied to me about why you were out there. I think this election is going to be a landslide.” He folded my ballets and put them in the box.
 
I’m pissed, of course, that my next younger brother created this, but what could I do about it now? It really sucked knowing that he would be there to watch my total humiliation, something his evil little mind had spent the summer planning.
 
I found out on Thursday that the selected streaker does know before Friday because the entire selection committee, all eight of them, came over to my house after school. They made it very plain and simple—I was to be in school and participate or else. The ‘or else’ was not discussed except to tell me it would far, far worse than the planned ceremony.  I asked if it had been a close race and found out I had gotten 68% of the votes. A bigger surprise was that my brother Kirk had come in second with 18%. Fifteen other people split the remaining 14% of the votes. It was recommended that I wear loose-fitting clothing (to make it easier to strip me) and I was told to act surprised when they come to get me. Oh, and I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone that the selection committee tells you the night before, so forget I said that.
 
I went to bed early but stayed awake wondering what, if anything, I could do. I wanted to beat Kirk within an inch of his life but I worried he might not only be bigger than me but stronger too. Kevin came in first.
 
“Too bad I’m not in sixth grade yet,” he said to me with a smile. “I really wish I could be there to see you naked in front of your whole school. Except there isn’t anything down there to see, is there.”
 
I jumped out of bed and grabbed him but Kirk came in just as I was ready to, to, actually, I had no idea what I was going to do to him, so I let him go.
 
“You just made it worse on yourself,” Kirk said from behind me. I hadn’t know he was there.
 
“There’s nothing you can do to make it worse,” I said to him.
 
“We’ll see tomorrow,” he said. “And then everyone will know that you are thirteen disguised as a nine year old.”
 
I was too nervous to eat breakfast, but Kevin brought me a glass of orange juice and said he was sorry for helping Kirk. The juice had pulp in it but it was cold and better than going without anything. I didn’t want to ride the bus with my brothers and their friends, so I walked the mile and a half to school.
 
The first classes started at 8:40 and the fire bell rang ten minutes later. We filed out to our assigned places and waited for a head count to be completed. Then the principal gave a short talk, but I wasn’t listening and don’t even know what he talked about. There was a quick meeting with the eight kids who were to be in charge and instructions that anyone who didn’t follow directions would be immediately sent inside to be punished. There was no chance that anyone would do anything to risk what all of us kids, and probably the teachers too, knew what was going to happen moments after they left. Nobody wanted to miss that. Except for me of course.
 
And then there were just the approximately 100 kids who made up Benson Middle school left outside. It was quiet as the eight members of this year’s committee worked their way through the crowd. Just like last year they grabbed a kid to scare him and then let him go. Then they gathered around me. I was wearing a pull-over shirt, shorts, ankle socks and shoes. But then I felt something stir down below.
 
Oh shit!” I said to myself as I realized I was getting a boner. “Not now!” I knew from last year what happens if you get a boner—it means you’re enjoying yourself and so the amount of rock you have to move is doubled. Half a wheelbarrow for sixth graders, one and a half for seventh graders, and I was about to find out how many for eighth graders since I was to be the first eighth grader to be selected as far back as anyone knew.
 
I started to pull my shirt off over my head but one of the committee members stopped me. “Sorry dude, but stripping you is part of the process.”
 
I was grabbed and held and slowly stripped. When they got me down to just my underpants the laughter started. Then they pulled my underpants down as slowly as they could manage.
 
“He’s got a boner!” I heard someone shout and then everyone was shouting it. “That means he’s enjoying this,” the first voice added.
 
The head of the committee lead me to the wheelbarrow. “Normally an eighth grader would have four loads to haul, but since you are having fun you have to move eight,” he said, causing a loud cheer to go up. The students began to line up along both sides of the route I would have to take to move the rocks.
 
I began to load it and tried my best to ignore all the comments from the spectators, but I heard Kirk as he leaned in close and said, “I told you I could make it worse. Your pathetic little boner is due to the wonders of medical science.”
 
I pondered that for a few seconds and then I remembered the orange juice. And then it came to me. He had added something to it to make me hard.  I wondered if Kevin knew it before he offered it to me.
 
I filled the wheelbarrow but it was too heavy for me to move it so I had to take some rocks out. The committee said I had to haul either full or half loads, nothing in-between. So now I was up to sixteen trips. And the worst thing about a wheelbarrow is that you have to have one hand on each handle, which leaves nothing to cover yourself with. The two piles of rock were about a hundred yards apart and it took me several minutes to move the half-loaded wheelbarrow across the distance. All the way hands reached out to smack my behind or grab my dick. I couldn’t look up knowing that my classmates, boys and girls, were looking and laughing at me just as I had done to Rodney Wellington last year.
 
After each trip I had to return with the empty wheelbarrow and loaded it again. I guessed it took about ten minutes per round trip, which meant it would take me until lunch time to complete the task.
 
I need two breaks to complete it and I kept hoping the teachers would call us in before I was done, but apparently they were content to wait until we finished. When I finally dumped the last load I hoped I could get dressed and go home sick, but I had forgotten the last part of the ritual. I had to go and shake hands with the runner up. Suddenly I wished it was anyone except my brother Kirk. I had to stand naked in front of him and tell him how lucky he was. And then I had to ask if I had done a good enough job.
 
As far as I knew the response was always, “Sure,” or “Yeah,” or something like that. But not this year.
 
“He’s an embarrassment to my whole family,” Kirk began. He still had hold of my hand and used it to turn me around to face the student body. “Look at him—an eighth grader, and yet I’ll bet there isn’t a boy out there who looks so pathetic. He’s thirteen and not a single hair. He’s shamed me and my family’s name. And therefore I think he should put the rocks he moved back where they were.”
 
A cheer when up while Kirk stood there holding my hand over my head. My left hand moved on its own to cover my erection. I’m not sure why since it had been on display for hours already.
 
The committee held a quick meeting and came back to announce that it would take too long to move all the rocks, but there was time for me to move a half load plus another half load for daring to cover myself.
 
Rather than argue, I grabbed the wheelbarrow and started loading it. To my surprise, some of my friends began to help. As they loaded it up I told them it was going to be too heavy to lift.
 
“Don’t worry about,” my best friend said. “Scott can move it. You just walk along behind him. And don’t cover up again!”
 
And Scott Butterfield, another friend, grabbed the full wheelbarrow and started down the path. But they were having difficulty, so I picked out two of the bigger stones and carried them in my arms. That served two purposes—first, it helped them do the heavy work, and second it kept me from being able to cover up.
 
When we dumped our rocks at the other end Kirk was complaining that if other kids were going to help they had to be naked too. The rules were explained to him, but he said, “The hell with the rules. Is the committee in charge or not? Make new rules!”
 
The committee met again and I feared the worse for my friends, but when they came back out they decided for being the most rude and obnoxious sixth grader in the history of the Streaker Kirk also was chosen this year. He heard the crowd roar their approval and started to run but didn’t get more than a few steps. He begged and pleaded as they stripped him, and once he was naked he began to cry, and this time he wasn’t faking it.
 
Unfortunately for me, it did let everyone compare us together, but unless you were one foot away you couldn’t see his hair. And he had a boner, which, while it was a slight bit bigger than mine, wasn’t huge by any means.
 
Because he had a boner it meant that instead of just half a load he had to haul a full load. And for trying to run to avoid his fate the committee doubled it again. Two full loads. And he quickly learned that he, like me, wasn’t strong enough to haul a full load. None of his friends came forward to help him so it took him four trips. And he cried the entire time which earned him the rather obvious nickname of ‘crybaby.’
 
When he was done, there were three people tied for third place and he had to go to each of them and do his little speech. One of them was Rocky, who held his arm up and turned him to the crowd to recommend that next year he be considered for a repeat performance because he wasn’t man enough this year.
 
It was a pretty fitting ending to the most horrible day of my life. I got dressed in the company of friends (not all were boys, which made it sort of bad) while Kirk had to run around and chase down his clothes until the committee re-established order.
 
The head of the committee, a boy I hardly knew beyond his name, called us both forward to face the crowd. Kirk was still trying to get some clothes on but we were ordered to stand at attention. Kirk had to be threatened with moving more rocks before he shut up and stood more or less at attention.
 
“Here is why we don’t normally choose sixth or eighth graders. Randy never complained, never resisted, didn’t talk back, and followed each instruction. His brother Kirk, on the other hand, tried to run, tried to hide, and cried. For those of you who will be here next year you’ve already heard a recommendation for nomination. Because of his behavior this year I’d like to submit that Kirk Bowler be named an honorary Streaker and participate each of his next two years along with a candidate chosen by ballet.”
 
The crowd of kids yelled their approval and Kirk collapsed in a heap. I actually had to dress him as he just closed up into his own little world. “My friends won’t let it happen” was the only thing he said. But if I were him, I wouldn’t count on that.
 
Somehow I lived through it, and even was accepted, at least for the rest of the day, by Rocky and his friends. And I couldn’t wait to get home and tell Kevin that while he missed seeing me he would have two years to watch Kirk move rocks.
 
 

 
 
 

   
   
(The End)