Be Careful What You Ask For 7

By David

The author prefers not to display any email address. Please direct any feedback to puericil@hotmail.com and it will be forwarded

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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.
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I was admittedly a strange child, obsessed with odd little fantasies but too shy to tell anyone. During my adolescence I embarked on a series of secret adventures to satisfy my insatiable curiosity. Only when I got caught did I realize just how careful you have to be about what you ask for … it just might come true!

Part Seven – It Only Gets Worse

Soooo … imagine yourself as an eleven year old child. You love to have fun, you’re adventuresome and you have a wild imagination. You’re not a bad kid, just a little too curious about things that sometimes lead you into mischief. One day your curiosity gets you in over your head and the next thing you know, you’re in a spooky old house, naked as the day you were born, on exhibit before a perfect stranger.
That’s where I was as I stood on the giant oak coffee table belonging to my mother’s close friend, Mrs. Elizabeth Taylor.

"Please, Mrs. Taylor, I want to go home," I whined. "And can I get my clothes back, too, please?"

“Hmm … too bad, so sad,” my beautiful captor said in a sing-song voice. "None of that's going to happen. Not any time soon. Instead, I want you to do a little dance for me. Can you do that for me? Hmm? Do you know how to dance?"

I sighed. “No, ma’am. Not really.”

Mrs. Taylor raised a warning eyebrow. “What did I tell you about using the word ‘ma’am?’ Don’t say ‘ma’am.’ Say Mrs. Taylor.”

I sighed once more. “No, Mrs. Taylor. I don’t know how to dance.”

My hostess smiled. “Well, let’s try anyway. Go ahead, my pretty little fairy. Do a little dance for me. It doesn’t matter what. Just do anything.”

I felt dizzy. Do a … dance … naked? In front of one of my mother’s friends? On top of her coffee table? In her living room?

Was she crazy???

The look on my hostess' face indicated that a reply was in order. I cleared my throat and croaked, “I … um, what kind of dance? I don’t know how … or what … to do.”

“Oh, you’re smart. You can think of something you can do,” my captor encouraged. “But if you don’t come up with something, I will. And you might not like what I pick.”

I shrugged my shoulders. It didn’t matter to me. I mean, how bad could it get?

A sly smile spread across Mrs. Taylor’s face. “Nothing? Well, okay then, it’s my choice, all right? Mmmm … I like ballet. And I especially like fairytale ballets. And since you like being a fairy, you can pretend you’re a ballerina and dance like a pretty little fairy princess. How about that?”

I shook my head. I could not believe my ears. She wanted me to do what?

“I … I don’t know how,” I mumbled. My face burned as I thought about how humiliating this conversation had become.

“Oh David, don’t give me that!” my captor playfully scolded. “You’ve seen ballerinas dance. Just play pretend. You’re good at playing pretend, right? Just do whatever you think a ballerina might do. I’m sure it’ll be fine. Go on. Don’t be shy. Dance for me, my pretty fairy.”

I squirmed uncomfortably. Standing naked before my mom's weird friend was embarrassing enough. Now this crazy lady wanted me to dance? Like a … a ballerina? Really?

"Please, Mrs. Taylor, don't make me ... I really don't wanna. I don't know how ... and ... I just can't ...."

“Oh, go on, David. It's not that difficult. You can do it. And don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about."

I thought about what she was saying and tried to imagine doing it. The image in my head was repulsive, sickening even. No boy my age, not me, not any of my friends or classmates, not even a total stranger would want to do what she was suggesting. Dancing naked on a coffee table … like a ballerina … not even the biggest sissy in the entire world would do something like that!

My captor's voice suddenly went into a feline growl. "Do as I say, or I’ll call your mother and see if she wants to watch a little television with me. I wonder if she'll like what I have to show her ...?”

“Please, don’t call my mom,” I squeaked meekly. “I’ll … I’ll do it. Just … just give me a … a second ….”

Okay, well, that did it. I mean, what choice did I have? I’d told Mrs. Taylor the truth; I knew nothing at all about dancing. But like she said, I’d seen ballet on television and in school programs, so I had a little bit of an idea on what to do. Much to my regret.

Just call me the biggest sissy in the world, I guess.

I thought for a moment, then started carefully, mostly because I was scared of falling off the coffee table. But being made of heavy hard wood and marble – and being so large! – it served as a solid platform for dancing. If that’s what you want to call what I did “dancing.” I began by taking a couple of slow, as-graceful-as-I-could-make-them steps across the table, turning, and then waving my arms about like a bird or a swan or whatever. I then got up on tiptoe and reached up as high as I could and spun about as gracefully as possible without falling off the table.

I felt like a total idiot. I mean, wouldn’t you feel stupid, dancing naked with your penis sticking out and your butt bare for the world to see? In front of some weird woman who knew your mom? Trust me, that was the worst feeling in the whole world.

I was not at all proud of what I was doing or who I’d become.

I did the spin again, this time with my arms out wide, then slowly reaching up above my head, allowing the fingertips to touch just I’d seen one of the girl dancers do during a school presentation. As I did all this I remember seeing my reflection in the wall mirrors and hating what I saw; the silly, naked boy in the mirror, moving about like a clumsy, sissy ballerina … too weak and too pitiful to stand up for himself. It pained me to see that’s who I was right then and there.

I felt sick to my stomach, I was so ashamed.

“Don’t stop now,” my captor said, snapping me out of my pity party trance. “And smile, David. You look like you’re not having any fun at all. Don’t be ugly … smile a pretty smile … or else!”

I forced my lips into the best smile I could muster, despite feeling like crying. “Um, like this, Mrs. Taylor?” I croaked.

My employer smiled brightly, her white teeth contrasting with her red lipstick. She nodded her head and gave an evil little laugh.

“Oh, that’s perfect! Now, turn around and go back the other way. And reach up as high as you can, up on your tiptoes, and try to touch the ceiling. Now arch your back ... oh yes, very nice. Very graceful. Just like a real live ballerina! Good job, little fairy! And don’t forget to keep smiling!”

Well, hearing all that didn’t make me feel any better about myself. Between being constantly called “little fairy” and being forced to dance a stupid ballet – while naked! – I felt like the biggest sissy in the world. But I kept my mouth shut; I mean, what good would raising a fuss make at that point?

Suddenly, the room filled with music, a symphony of some sort, loud and crystal clear. I glanced down to see Mrs. Taylor fiddling with the remote control. In addition to the hidden television and camera network that caused me so much trouble, there was apparently a sound system wired into the house and she had turned on some classical music to accompany my faux ballet.

“Don’t stop, my little fairy,” she said teasingly. “Isn’t that music just wonderful? I thought you might like something to inspire you.”

I nodded my head and kept my mouth shut. Anything I had to say at this point would only make things worse.

Continuing my dance, I turned this way and that, walking softly, carefully, around on the coffee table, moving my arms and hands as gracefully as possible. I tried to remember how I’d seen dancers move on television and in school programs and I did my best to mimic their movements; well, my best considering the circumstances, at least.

"Not bad, just watch your shoulders and keep them erect," my hostess instructed. "And don't forget to arch your back. Yes, that's it. Very pretty, very nice, just like a little fairy."

Though I'd never admit it at the time, the music seemed to help as I found myself compelled to go up on tiptoe at some sections and twirl about and wave my arms during others. I felt like a total idiot, moving around on tiptoe in my birthday suit, but the more I moved, the happier my hostess seemed to be. And at that point in my life pleasing her was important to me; I did not want that woman mad at me for any reason, none at all.

"I don't know why you say you can't dance," she teased. "You move like you've been doing this all your life."

This little performance went on for some crazy long length of time, long enough for me to wonder how long I’d been at it. I made the mistake of thinking about my friends and wondering what they were doing on this Friday night; I doubted any of them were dancing naked on a coffee table for their mother’s friends. I imagined what it would be like if my classmates saw what I was doing and I felt sick to my stomach. I guess I’d lost my sense of adventure after all I’d been through the past two days.

During a pause in the music I stopped dancing. My hostess gave me a querulous look, as though she was surprised.

“I’m sorry, but did I tell you to stop? Go on, get back to work, little fairy. You’re not quite done.”

I shook my head. “Please, don’t get mad, Mrs. Taylor. Do … do I really have to keep doing this? Can’t I stop now? I ... I'm really tired and this is really embarrassing.”

My captor raised an eyebrow. “Not as embarrassing as when your mother finds out you’ve been running around naked in my house, I bet.”

I shook my head again. “Don’t be mad, please? I just want my clothes back and to go home. Please?”

Mrs. Taylor stared at me. “Now see what you just did? You just had to argue about it, didn't you? Everything was going just fine and you had to ruin it. You only had to do your little dance for a few more minutes and then stop and we would have had a pleasant evening. But no, you had to make a scene by arguing with me. So now you have to start all over again.”

I watched helplessly as she hit a button and the music started up from the beginning; I didn’t know anything about classical music, but that much I recognized.

“Isn’t that beautiful? Here, I’ll get you started … and one and two and three ….”

"Please ... noooo ...," I begged. "Mrs. Taylor, please don't make me d-do ... do this anymore! It's too embarrassing ...."

My captor cut me off before I could whine another syllable. “Listen to me carefully, David. I want you to start dancing your little sissy boy ballet and I want you to keep dancing until the end of this entire concerto. It’s quite long, so you’ve got a ways to go. You could have been done by now, but no, you had to make a mess of things. Go on, get back to work, my naked little fairy. Dance your pretty little sissy dance before you make me mad.”

Hearing Mrs. Taylor call me a “sissy boy” really hurt. It wasn’t the first time she used the word, but it was starting to get to me. I know, I know, I used it in my fantasies and all, but that was different. This was real life and I guess having my little secret thrown in my face was just too much.

I started to say something in protest – I can’t remember exactly what – but my employer raised that ever powerful eyebrow and stopped me before I could utter a single syllable.

“If I hear one word from you, if you put up any more arguments at all, not only will I show that video recording of you to your mother, I’ll make sure your father sees it as well. I have no doubt he’ll be very proud to know what kind of things his perverted sissy of a son does when he thinks nobody is watching.”

I bit my lip and nodded. Once again, Mrs. Taylor won and I lost. Not that there was any use in keeping score. She’d won from the very beginning. I was just fooling myself if I thought I was going to get out of this predicament with any semblance of dignity.

“You’re keeping me waiting, David,” my captor said in a tense, mocking voice. “And I do NOT like being kept waiting. And one and two and three ….”

And so, reluctantly and with absolutely no joy at all, I resumed my dance routine. I wanted to sit down and cry, but instead I moved slowly around and around on the coffee table and wished I was a million miles away. At first I just stumbled about, angry and frustrated, but after a few minutes I calmed down and got into the flow, sliding my bare feet across the smooth marble and mimicking the movements of dancers I pictured in my head.

“Oh yessss ….” My mother’s friend gloated as my movements fell into sync with the music. “Very nice, David. And look at how you're arching your back! Who knew you were such a fine little ballerina? This is quite entertaining. I think we’ll be doing this a lot more in the future.”

I remember frowning and thinking, again? We? What does she mean by that? I was the one doing all the stupid dancing!

And what exactly did she mean when she said “a lot more in the future?”

Mrs. Taylor sat back in her seat with her glass of wine and nodded for me to resume my shameful routine. Still clad in nothing but my birthday suit, I moved this way and that in time to the music, sometimes on my tiptoes, sometimes just scooting my bare feet across the top of the coffee table, spinning this way and that with my hands and arms flailing about in the air. I had absolutely no idea what I was doing, of course, but that didn't stop my peculiar audience from cheering me on.

"Oh David, you're a natural born ballerina," Mrs. Taylor said with a laugh. "I know an excellent teacher. Perhaps I’ll give your mother a call and suggest that she sign you up! Won’t that be fun?"

Well, that didn’t make me feel any better. I ignored my tormentor and focused on not falling off that stupid coffee table instead. I tried not to look at my reflection in the mirrors on the wall, but it was practically impossible; seeing my bare naked reflection in so many prissy, silly poses was humiliating! The only good news was that my penis had calmed down and retracted so that it was barely visible between my legs.

Thank goodness for small miracles!

I kept hoping the music would end, but it went on and on for so long, I lost track of time. I remember seeing the clock when we came in from the garden; it was around eight thirty or so at that time. Who knew what time it was while I danced. Every once in a while the bell would chime, or so I thought. It was hard to tell with the volume of the symphony so loud and all of the instruments literally in my ear. I so wanted to close my eyes and block out the world around me, but I didn’t dare for fear of falling and hurting myself. And getting injured while naked, under the watch of this manipulative, conniving woman, that was a scary, scary thought.

Finally, the symphony came to an end and I froze in position, my arms up in the air, my legs spread apart in my version of some silly ballet move. The silence was deafening.

I waited for a moment, wondering if I was supposed to continue. It was all so awkward. Mrs. Taylor seemed to be looking through me, not at me. She didn’t say a word. I didn't dare speak for fear of getting another scolding. Not knowing what else to do, I resumed my original position in the middle of the table, hands behind my back, just as I’d been trained to do. That got me a scolding almost immediately.

“Did I tell you to put your hands down? No? Then go back to your last position! Do it. NOW!!!”

Scared and ashamed, I moved back to where I left off, arms up and my legs spread in the most awkward pose imaginable. My hostess smiled to see me so quick to obey; she nodded in approval and gave a little sarcastic laugh.

“Very nice. Now, just stand there for a little while. I want to admire my pretty new play toy.”

I stood as still as possible for the longest while. My nose itched and my arms got tired and my back ached, but I did as I was told. At one point I started to let down my arms and ask a question, but my captor’s growling voice put the fear of God in me.

“If you want me to call your mother, then by all means do NOT do as I say. Please, I dare you. Just ignore me and see if I’m serious ….”

Needless to say, I quickly put my arms above my head and resumed my uncomfortable vigil. I took a deep breath, sniffed back a tear, and wished the day was over so I could go hide in my bed and cry my heart out.

“That’s much better,” my tormentor said sarcastically. “Don’t forget to smile, fairy boy. Yes, smile so we can all see just how much fun you’re having ….”

Funny thing … while I did my best to stand still, Mrs. Taylor did the same, sitting motionless in her seat, staring at my naked body without so much as a blink. Justine was the only one of us who moved. That stupid cat got up and rubbed up against me as if nothing at all unusual was going on. She then stretched and preened herself for several minutes, which no doubt looked ridiculous with me standing in my faux ballet position in my birthday suit. When she was done she gave me a bored look and then left the room. I glanced down at my penis and saw that it was still limp; I supposed not having an erection just wasn't interesting to my little feline friend.

The silence was deafening; with the television off the only noise within range was that of the dining room clock. That big old house was so quiet I was beginning to get creeped out. A couple of times I coughed, which earned me a scowl from my captor. Fearful of raising her ire, I did everything I could to keep from making any sort of noise at all. Within my mind I began to wonder of this awful torment would ever end.

The clock bell rang again, pinging so many times I lost count. Mrs. Taylor looked at her watch and then finished her glass of wine. I remember wondering how many she’d drunk during my visit.

“Oh well, we can stop now, David. It’s been fun, but you should probably get on home and I need my beauty sleep.”

Well, I never heard such glorious words in my entire life! I could not wait to get my clothes back on and leave that horrible house … and that strange woman! It felt like I’d been there all day, even longer.

My hostess stood up and took my hand, guiding me off the coffee table as if I were a helpless little child, which was kinda like I felt considering my state of undress.

“Um, Mrs. Taylor, what time is it?” I asked.

The pretty woman smiled. “Ten o’clock. What’s the matter? Are you late for a hot date?”

I shook my head. “No ma’am … er, I mean … no, Mrs. Taylor. I was, you know, just curious.”

The truth was, I couldn’t believe it was so late. Ten o’clock??? That meant I must have been dancing for more than an hour, and then standing like a statue for who knew how long. No wonder I felt exhausted!

My thoughts suddenly went to my family and I wondered if my mom was home. I sure hoped not! When she played cards with her friend Arlene she sometimes stayed out until ten thirty or eleven. I just hoped this was the case that night. I didn’t feel like getting home and having to answer a bunch of crazy questions about how my evening went at Mrs. Taylor's house and what we were doing that kept me so late.

Still holding my hand, my hostess led me to the foyer. I was so happy I was actually smiling; and for real this time! I couldn’t wait to get back into my clothes again. Soon this horrible night would be a memory and life would go back to normal.

“Judging from the smile on your face, you had fun this evening.” Mrs. Taylor’s eyes lit up with more than a bit of mischief as they focused on what was going on between my legs. “Your body gives you away, too. Isn’t that interesting?”

I looked down to see my penis still sticking out just as proud and excited as when the evening began. I so wanted to give it a smack and make it go away.

“S-s- … s-sorry,” I croaked weakly. I mean, what else could I say?

My hostess looked down at me with knowing eyes. “We’ll have to do this again soon, don’t you think? You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Be honest, fairy boy. What do you say, hmmm?”

That’s when things began to go wrong in a way I could have never predicted. As I tried to think of a reply, I felt myself being guided toward the front door; a sharp pain of panic hit me hard as I realized that instead of being given my belongings, I was being forcibly led out of the house!

“Um, Mrs. Taylor, I need to … get my clothes … Mrs. Taylor! Wait ....”

At first I thought this was part of a joke or something. I even laughed as my hostess unlatched the lock and pulled the door open.

“You’re teasing me, right, Mrs. Taylor?” I squeaked. “Haha … funny. Noooo … wait! Please, Mrs. Taylor, what are you doing …? Mrs. Taylor … nooooo!!!!”

“I have to admit, David, it’s been fun for me, too,” my hostess said happily. “Tell your mother I’ll give her a call tomorrow. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

The next thing I knew she put both hands on my bare shoulders, gave me a playful wink, and spun me around to face the open door. I felt a sudden shove that literally set me into a sprint; in less than a second I was outside on the front steps, still in my birthday suit! I’ll never forget the feel of the rough brick on my bare feet and the cool night air on my bare skin.

“No, please … Mrs. Taylor … please … I don’t wanna … please … DON’T LEAVE ME OUT HERE! NOOOOO!!!”

Mrs. Taylor stood in the door, hands on her hips, her voluptuous frame blocking my way back into the house. She laughed at me with a gleeful light in her eyes.

“Shhhhh, not so loud, David. Don’t be so noisy, not unless you want the neighbors to hear you. And if they hear you, they’re probably going to see you. Is that what you want, you naughty little boy?”

“Please let me back inside!” I clenched my arms around my body and pressed my knees together in an attempt to make myself small and as invisible as possible. A quick glance around showed there was no one nearby, not yet at least, which was somewhat a relief.

“I don’t like this,” I complained. “It’s not funny!”

“Oh sure it is,” my employer said brightly. “It’s funny and it’s fun! You said for yourself you like being scared while you run around in your birthday suit. Now's your big chance. You can have a naked adventure while you walk home! How fun is that?"

I couldn't tell if she was joking or just trying to scare me.

“Please, Mrs. Taylor, I can’t go home like this.” I felt tears burning my eyes and my chin began to quiver. “I want my clothes back and I want them now!”

"Uh-uh, there's no need to be rude," I was warned. “If you'd asked nicely I might have changed my mind. But certainly not with an attitude like that, little mister!"

I put my hands together in a classic begging pose and actually knelt down in a plea for mercy. "Please, Mrs. Taylor, can I at least have my pants or a shirt or something? Pleeeease???"

My tormentor laughed a beautiful, gleeful laugh. "Oh no, you hurt my feelings, so you’re not getting anything now, my precious little fairy. Nothing at all. So just get used to it!”

At first I'd hoped she was just giving me a hard time, but now I was convinced she was really going to make me walk home naked. I was in shock!

“Why are you being so mean to me? What did I ever do to you?”

My cruel hostess grabbed me by my chin and lifted my face so she could look me in the eye.

“I’m not being mean to you, David. I am merely holding you responsible for what you've said and what you've done. You lied to me, more than once. All I wanted was for you to tell me the truth. I trusted you. And you lied. More than once. I don’t like liars. That’s why you’re going home naked tonight. Because you lied. Maybe the next time you’ll think twice before anything less than the truth leaves those pretty plump lips!”

I clasped my hands even tighter together and begged like my life depended on it. Which it did as far as I was concerned.

“Please, Mrs. Taylor, I didn’t lie about anything! I told you the truth! I promise, I told you the truth! I never lied about anything! I promise! MRS. TAYLOR, PLEASE DON’T DO THIS!!!!”

“Hey, this isn’t my fault. I warned you about disobeying me. And I warned you about lying. Maybe after a nice little walk home you’ll remember there are consequences to your actions.”

I couldn’t help but cry. I couldn’t believe this was happening to me. There was no way I could go home naked. This was just horrible!

“Please, I’ll do anything, I promise! Just tell me what I lied about and I’ll fix it! I promise ….”

No matter what I said, no matter how hard I begged or how much I cried, my captor refused to listen. I struggled to get back in the house, but her resolve easily prevented that from happening.

“If you hurry you might get home before your parents,” she said in a teasing voice. “I’d be careful though. You never can tell who you might meet along the way.”

“Mrs. Taylor, please … you can’t do this to me! Mrs. Taylor! MRS. TAYLOR!!!”

"You can think about your lies during your little walk," she said with a laugh. “And you can thank me later. Have fun!”

With that the door went shut.

I was suddenly blinded by something bright. That’s when I realized Mrs. Taylor had turned on the front yard lights. The entire front façade of her estate was lit up, from the walkway over to the driveway all the way down to the street. That put me in the spotlight, literally; but instead of being in the privacy of the backyard this time I was out front where the neighbors and passersby could see me!

Wide-eyed and panic-stricken, I tried ducking behind one of the topiaries, but they provided barely any cover. I quickly stepped back up on the porch and pounded on the door.

“Please, Mrs. Taylor! Please let me in! Pleeeeeeeeasssssse!!!”

I heard a tapping on one of the front windows. I backed away far enough to see my tormentor holding her telephone in her hands.

“You better get going, David,” she said with an evil smirk. “If you’re not off my lawn in the next minute I’m calling the police and reporting a naked boy on my front steps!”

This was the second time in two days I’d been threatened with the police. My heart raced as I imagined what would happen if I was thrown in jail in my bare skin; that would be way worse than anything else I’d been through so far! I had to move, and fast!

I ran like crazy for a clump of trees down by the front entrance to Mrs. Taylor’s property. That at least gave me a hiding place until I could figure out what to do next.

Running naked outside is more than a little weird, by the way. You're barefoot and there's no clothes against your skin and the air is tickling you in places you're just not used to. It's not bad, it just feels ... well, weird. I probably would have liked it if I hadn't been so scared at the time.

“Why me,” I muttered to myself. “Why is all these crazy crap happening to me???”

The bad news is that it took me a few minutes to come up with a plan on how to get home; the good news was at least I now had a plan on how to get home. I remembered there was a series of alley ways that connected Mrs. Taylor’s neighborhood together, passing behind each house and giving access to the various garages and carports. The problem was getting there. I couldn't slip around the side of Mrs. Taylor’s house because of her garden and those stupid iron gates. Her neighbor’s yards were similarly protected, surrounded by privacy fences and walls too difficult for me to maneuver.

As much as I hated to do it, I had to go even closer to the street and follow the sidewalk past several houses in search of access to the alleys. I was lucky in that it was late enough there was very little traffic and I could hear cars in plenty of time to hide when they came rolling by. I was also fortunate that there were all sorts of gates and shrubbery to use as concealment.

Ironically, the first house I found with an open yard that led to the alley belonged to, of all people, Jennifer Wilson! I remembered ruefully that she had bragged about being one of Mrs. Taylor’s neighbors, but I never expected this. I really didn't want to risk seeing Jennifer – well, her seeing me, to be more accurate – but I was desperate to get away from the main street. As I tiptoed along the front yard and hid in the shadows next to her house, I wondered what she would think if she knew right then and there I was anywhere near her in my bare skin!

“She’d probably call the police on me, too, just like everybody else,” I whispered to myself. "I’m gonna get caught, I just know it. And that’s not gonna be good when I am.”

As I crept between the shadows and the bushes I could hear voices inside the house. It sounded like Jennifer and her mother talking, though it might have been one of her older sisters. I couldn't quite make out what they were saying, but I was convinced they were talking about me. I just knew Jennifer suspected what I'd been doing and she was no doubt sharing her suspicions with her family. This was utter nonsense, of course; there was absolutely no reason for any of that to be true, but by that time my paranoia was on full throttle.

Somehow I made it through Jennifer’s back yard to the alley without giving myself away. Padding along in my bare feet, I darted from this hiding place to that, as fast as I could, using trash bins, cars and gates as cover. It was a terrifying journey through shadows and darkness; behind every mysterious shape was a monster or some other evil creature bent on grabbing me and doing heaven knew what. I was scared to death I’d get caught, but I never saw anyone and I was pretty sure nobody saw me.

That is, until I got to the street that separated Mrs. Taylor’s neighborhood from mine.

It shouldn’t have happened. I mean, I shouldn't have gotten caught. I timed everything out just right, I watched the traffic and I came up with a great plan. Okay, well, a pretty good plan. Being so late, the traffic wasn’t nearly as bad as it was when I walked home in the afternoon, so that wasn't much of a challenge. The biggest problem was the street lights, but I found a place where the trees cast enough of a shadow to keep my pale naked body from being seen. The shadows are what did me in.

It took me a few minutes to work up the courage to make the crossing. I waited in the dark, trembling with fear, and watched until there weren’t any cars in sight. I was just about to step off the curb when I heard someone call:

“Hello? Hey you! Do you not have any clothes on??!!!”

Well, that set me off like rocket! Apparently I got so hung up on looking out for cars I totally forgot about people on foot, and someone either snuck up or happened to stumble across me. I was so scared, I didn’t even look back to see who it was that called out; I just ran as fast as I could, scampering across the street in my bare feet – which really hurt, by the way, stupid asphalt! – and headed for the first clump of shrubbery I could find.

Right behind me I could hear someone running even faster, right on my tail. And I mean literally on my tail! I could hear them breathing and the sound of their shoes scratching against the pavement, they were so close.

"Hey, stop! I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to ask you a couple of questions!"

I tried to go faster but the prospect of getting caught was overwhelming and my knees went weak with fear. It was a miracle that I reached the bushes; it wasn’t until I was cowering in the shadows that I looked up to see who had been chasing me.

It was a girl. A tall dark haired girl of high school age if not older. She was wearing athletic clothing, a pair of black and purple tights of some sort and a matching top and some sort of fancy running shoes. She looked like something between an Olympic champion and a comic book super hero, judging from her physique and the way she was dressed

“Hello? Okay, I know you’re in the bushes somewhere. Are you all right? Hey, little boy … or little girl …? I said I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to make sure you’re not hurt or anything.”

I didn’t dare move, I was so frightened. There was no escape, nowhere for me to go without giving away my position. I sure didn’t want this strange girl to see me or, more important, for her to find out who I was. I just figured it was best to stay where I was and keep quiet until she left. My heart raced with fear, just like a little bunny rabbit hiding from a hungry predator.

“I’m not leaving here until I know you’re all right,” the girl said. “Why are you naked? Did someone do this to you? Are you hurt? Hello?”

My pursuer moved closer, digging through the bushes just a few feet from where I was kneeling. I was so scared, I bit my lip until it hurt.

“Is this some sort of prank?” she asked. “I figure if you were hurt you’d say something back. You’re not some sort of pervert, are you? You better speak up or I’m going to call the police! Hello? Helloooooo? If you’re hurt, let me know. I can help."

There was a moment of silence. "If this is a game, you better say something or there’s going to be big trouble!”

The rustling in the bushes was dangerously close. She was just about to part the shrubbery and see who I was when I panicked and cried out.

“I’m all right! I’m all right!” I squeaked. “Please, don’t look at me! I … I’m … just playing a stupid game, a stupid game, okay? Please, don’t call the police! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! Please, don’t call the police!”

My “savior” paused for a moment. I couldn’t see what was going on, but I thought I heard giggling.

“A game, eh? What kind of game?”

I had to think for a moment. I couldn’t tell her the truth, could I? Or could I? Maybe if I told her … part of the truth. Not everything, just enough to get her to leave me alone. Maybe.

I cleared my throat. “It’s just a stupid game. I … I got dared. You know … to run around the house … without any clothes on.”

There was a pause.

“Run around the house?” My new friend’s voice sounded skeptical. “Which house?”

I rolled my eyes. Why did she have to be so nosey???

“I … I can’t say.”

“Can’t? Or won’t?”

I bit my lip again. It really hurt this time.

“I don’t wanna. Please, this is really embarrassing! I just wanna go home. Please, go away … I’ll go home and I promise I won’t ever do this again!”

There was another pause. This time when my pursuer spoke she seemed more amused than annoyed.

“Okay, I’ll leave, but first you have to come out where I can see you. Come on, don’t be shy. I won’t bite.”

I thought for a moment. I looked down at myself and regretted every single thing I’d done wrong in my life. There was no way I was going to let this pretty young woman see my stupid looking naked body!

“I’m not leaving until you come out. Don’t be shy. It’s not like I haven’t seen a naked kid before.” There was that pause again. “Are you a boy or a girl?”

I sighed. “I’m … a boy,” I said pitifully.

“Of course you are. It's always a boy who does this kind of shit.” There was a sigh followed by sarcastic, mocking laughter. “Well, ha, ha, ha, you probably think this is funny, don’t you? All right, my little naked friend, you better get that cute butt out here by the count of five or I’m coming in after you! One … two … three ….”

I didn’t come out until after the count of five. My pursuer was about to dig through the brush when I stood up and reluctantly stepped out where she could see me. I covered my modesty with my hands as I emerged from the darkness.

"I'm coming out! Please don't look at me. Please ...."

My captor took one look at me and laughed.

"Ew, stop touching yourself down there!" she squealed with disgust. "Don't be nasty!"

Out of habit I put my hands behind my back, just as Mrs. Taylor had trained me. I stood coyly before her, helpless and terrified of what was going to happen next.

"Well, that's certainly better," she said with a laugh. "My, oh my, aren't you the little cutie!"

I didn't say anything. I just grinned my usual dumbstruck grin and did my best to avoid eye contact as I hoped for the best.

The tall girl snapped fingers and pointed toward the sidewalk. “Okay, cute thing, come over here where I can see you better,” she ordered.

I stepped from the shadows into the light. My new friend did likewise. I was impressed to see she was as pretty as she was tall. The smile on her face was unmistakable as she stared directly down between my legs. I glanced down and winced as I saw that my penis had shriveled up smaller than my little finger.

“Well, you’re a boy, all right. But just barely.” The grin on her face was gleeful, almost mean-spirited. “Danged if that’s not the tiniest dick I’ve ever seen! I’ve seen bigger ones on little babies.”

I didn’t say anything. Scared and embarrassed, I just stood before my captor, red-faced and shivering.

“You’ve got a cute butt, though. I like it!” The smiling girl nodded her head and whistled. “The question is, why are you running around here naked? Aren’t you cold?”

I nodded, then shook my head. “Kinda.”

"Yeah, it shows. Your weenie is so teeny tiny, you might as well not even have one!" She laughed at her little joke. "I don't know how you guys live with those things."

Again, I didn’t say anything. I mean, what could I say to that?

She reached out and ruffled my hair. "I love your curly little tresses. How old are you, anyway, sweetie. Six? Seven?"

"No, I'm eleven!" I crossed my arms over my chest in frustration. "I'm not some dumb little kid, you know!"

The tall girl laughed. "Oh no, I can see that. You're a big strong man. How could I be so wrong?"

She gave me a studious look, then frowned.

"Hmmm … put your arms down. I wanna see something."

I did as I was told. I was getting pretty good at that, it seemed. I should have been, with so many people telling me what to do and all.

"You've got titties, too? How cute!" A gleam of joy lit up her face. "That's why I thought maybe you were a girl, you know."

"I know!" I pouted as I crossed my arms back over my breasts. "I can't help it. The doctor said they'll go away when I get older. I hate how everybody keeps saying I look like a girl!"

"Hey, there's worse things than being a girl," my new friend teased. "You could be a stupid boy caught running around the neighborhood in his bare naked skin!"

I looked around with the idea of running off. My guardian seemed to be reading my thoughts.

"Don't even think about running away. I can run a lot faster than you and not even break a sweat, so you may as give up before you even start.” She reached down and put her hand under my chin, forcing me to look up into her bright, laughing eyes. “Believe me when I say that I am not letting you out of my sight until I figure out what's going on, little mister."

I sighed and nodded.

“I believe you,” I said sheepishly.

To fully understand my situation you have to know this girl was really tall, a lot taller than I first thought; she was as tall as my father, and he used to play basketball when he was in college! And being only about four and a half feet tall at the time, I found this really intimidating. I felt miniscule, like a little child, standing next to her; no wonder she thought I was the same age as a first grader.

“So, what’s your name, sweetie? Come on, don’t be shy.” She reached down and gave my bare bottom a little tickle, which caused me to jump. “It’s not like you have anything left to hide, you know.”

It was so weird standing there in my bare skin in front of this strange girl. I felt so vulnerable, so helpless. Still, I stood my ground and crossed my arms across my chest and refused to answer. If I told this strange girl who I was, she’d most likely tell my parents what I’d been doing and I just couldn’t have that!

"Not going to say anything, huh? I can't blame you, I guess. So, why are you really running about in your bare skin? You said you were playing a game where you had to run around the house, right? Which house are you talking about?”

I tightened my grip across my chest and buried my face downward as far as it would go. My captor put her hand under my chin and forced me to look up.

“Come on, don’t be difficult.” She then turned me around and pointed at the house nearest us. “Is it that one? Is that where you live?”

I looked at the lit windows and wondered for an instant what the occupants would think if they knew what was going on outside their windows. I shook my head and bit my lip in defiance.

“How about that one over there?” My new friend pointed another house. No lights there; in fact, it looked deserted and scary in the darkness. I shook my head again and hugged my body even harder than before.

“Okay, I get it. You’re not talking. Fine. Just understand that I can't leave you out here on your own until I find out what's going on."

The next thing I knew she grabbed me by the wrist and began dragging me down the street like I was a lost puppy she had found.

“Wha- … what are you doing?” I tried to pull loose. “Let me go! Stop touching me!”

"Come on, naked boy. Since you're not talking I'm taking you with me. I told you, I'm not letting you out of my sight until I get some answers."

"Please, don't ... I gotta go home!” I pleased desperately. I remembered that it was after ten when I left Mrs. Taylor. My mom would be home soon and I just had to get there before she did.

“Please, let me go! You ... you're gonna make me late!"

My captor looked down at me and grinned. "You should have thought of that before you decided to go running around in your birthday suit."

“Noooooo! Let me goooo …!”

I felt like I was trapped in one of my dreams, stark naked in public, being kidnapped by a tall, powerful female and dragged off into the darkness. In my little warped mind the whole scenario was as exciting as it was frightening and I must confess that a little part of me couldn’t decide if I should be happy or terrified!

We walked forever, taking me further and further away from my home. So close, yet so far away. The good news, if there was any, was that we stayed mostly on the sidewalk, thank goodness, except when we crossed a street. Amazingly, we didn’t meet any pedestrians, which was my biggest fear. I don’t know what I would have done if I had to face one more person that night in my birthday suit!

The bad news is that we did see more than our share of cars; whenever one approached I'd make sure to hop on the other side of my new friend and use her as concealment, hiding behind her as if she was a huge tree or bush of some sort. I guess it worked; nobody bothered to even blow their horn much less stop and laugh at me. My biggest fear, of course, was that my parents or someone who knew me would drive by and see me. That would not have been fun at all!

“You're a timid little thing, aren't you?” the tall girl teased. “I’d have thought a obnoxious little brat with enough gumption to go streaking would be stupid brave. But you’re not brave at all, are you? You’re just a little sissy boy, like a frightened little bunny rabbit.”

There was that word again; I hated being called a sissy. But this was not the time or place to argue the point. I shrugged, then shook my head.

“I just want to go home. Please, let me go. Pleeeeeeassse?”

“Don't worry, little bunny, we're almost at my house. I won't keep you too long. I just want to show you off to somebody. I can’t get you to talk, so maybe they can."

They? That didn’t sound good at all.

My kidnapper took off again, dragging me along, whimpering and whining the entire way. As we walked along the cool night air tickled my bare bottom and my privates, raising goosebumps and constantly reminding me of my pitiful state of undress. I was as embarrassed as I was worried about what might happen next. To make matters worse, my feet hurt from walking barefoot on the rough pavement in such a hurry. Each step I took away from my home was as painful physically as it was emotionally.

After going another couple of blocks we finally arrived at a huge brick house, not quite as large as Mrs. Taylor’s but quite a bit bigger than my family’s home. Every light was on, giving the impression that there was lot of activity inside. A lot of activity … and a lot of people.

“I … I can’t go in there,” I pleaded as my captor drug me along the sidewalk toward the brightly lit house. “I’m … I gotta go home. Please, let me go ….”

“Oh, do shut up, you silly thing. Nothing bad is going to happen to you. I just want to show you off to somebody ….”

We were on the front porch before I realized what was happening. The tall girl opened the front door and yelled out at the top of her lungs, “Jacelyn! Jordan! Jillian! Come outside! I’ve got something I want to show you!”

I looked up at the tall girl with horror. She grinned down at me and winked. “My little sisters. They’re going to just looooove getting at look at you. It’s not often we get a naked boy to visit us, you know.”

She then turned back toward the house and yelled once more. “Jacelyn! Jordan! Jillian! I said to come outside! Now! I want you to see what I caught! Hurry up before it gets away!”

As you well know, for a long time I enjoyed thinking about being stripped naked and put on display in front of a bunch of girls; I used to love the idea and I did everything I could to pretend I was such situations as often as I could. But that had all been fantasy, in good, curious boys-will-be-boys fun. But now I knew better; I’d learned the hard way that the reality was not so fun, not after meeting Miss Thelma’s two little girls and being bossed around by Mrs. Taylor! And that wasn’t even counting the close call with Jennifer Wilson and Janie Johnson. I couldn’t afford another disaster, especially at the hands of who knew how many complete strangers. My life was about to be ruined at any second if I didn’t do something … and quick!

“P- … puh-leeeeeasssse … don’t let them see me!” I begged. You can’t do this! Nobody was supposed to know … please … it’s supposed to be secret ….”

My captor shrugged. “It’s not going to be secret much longer. If only you’d cooperated earlier and told me who you are ….”

I cleared my throat and squeaked, “Okay, okay … you win! My name is David Cartwright, all right? Now you know! Now can please I go? You got what you wanted. Now let me go!”

The tall girl grinned. “David Cartwright, hmm? Cartwright …. That doesn’t sound familiar. You better be telling me the truth, little bunny, or I’ll skin you alive.”

“I am telling you the truth! I promise! Please let me go. Please? Pleeeeeeassssse?”

“Hmmm … I dunno. You could be giving me a fake name. Where do you live? Be honest. I’ll double check and if you lie to me I’ll find out and I’ll track you down and make you sorry. I’ve got a very good memory. I’ll figure out where you really live and who your parents and who your friends are, and I’ll tell everybody what you’ve been doing.”

Tears filled my eyes, burning and running down my face like I was a baby. I hated crying, especially in front of other people. And especially when I was naked. It was extra humiliating.

“B- … b-but if I tell you … where I live,” I stammered, “you … y-you’ll p-probably tell my parents on m-me anyway.”

The smiling girl knelt down and held my chin in her hand, guiding my eyes to lock in on hers. For a moment it felt like she actually cared for me, as if she was my big sister or even a mother.

“Geez, stop crying. You’re such a sissy.” She stroked my long curly hair back over my ears and sighed. “I’m just teasing you, little bunny. No, I won’t tell on you. If you tell me everything, and I do mean everything I want to know, I promise I won’t tell a soul. Oh, I might give you a hard time the next time I see you, but I won’t tell anyone. I promise!”

I wiped my eyes on my bare arm and bit my lip. “You … you promise?”

The pretty girl nodded. “I promise. Tell me where you live and I’ll let you go.”

It was about that time that I heard voices inside the house. Someone was coming, it seemed. Wide-eyed and frozen with panic, I looked at my captor.

“You better hurry up, bunny rabbit. You’re about to get found out!”

I sighed, then told my captor my address. I also told her where I went to school. I could see her making mental notes.

“Hmm, interesting. You said you were supposed to run around your house naked. You were nearly three blocks from where you live when we first met. What's up with that? How come you were so far away? And don't even tell me tell you got lost."

I shrugged my shoulders. I didn't know what to say. No matter what I told my new friend she wasn't going to believe me.

Suddenly, what sounded like a herd of buffalo came rumbling through the house. Someone – or something – was running through the halls and down the stairs, making as much noise as possible.

“Uh-oh, it sounds like trouble is coming. You can tell me later, bunny rabbit.” The smiling teenager held out her hand and not knowing what else to do, I shook it. “I’m Jackie, by the way. Jackie Collier.”

“Um, nice to … meet you ….” I mumbled. The cacophony from inside grew louder … and dangerously close. I knew I should be doing something, but my legs and body were frozen with fear and indecision.

“Better run off, little bunny rabbit,” Jackie said with a huge grin on her face. “You’re about to get caught. Go run and hide and I’ll protect you. Go on … get going!”

I’d barely taken a step when the front door of the house burst open and the sound of excited little girl voices filled the air, accompanied by the pounding of feet on the wooden porch. I darted as fast as I could for the nearest hedgerow and dived in between two large bushes, ignoring the pain of the sharp branches and thorn-encrusted leaves wrought upon my naked skin. I paused long enough to check and see if I was being followed, gritting my teeth as an errant branch poked rudely in between my butt cheeks.

“Jackie! Jackie! Jackie!” the childish voices cried out. “What happened? What did you bring us? What’s the surprise?”

My new friend hadn’t lied. Just a few feet away from where I was hiding, she was surrounded by a trio of little girls ranging from first grade up to nearly my own age. Dressed in a variety of colorful pajamas, they might have been a bit older, but it was so hard to tell given my captor’s extreme height; she looked like a giantess surrounded by a bevy of fairy-like creatures bouncing and laughing and raising such a joyful noise.

“What’s our surprise?” they demanded, hugging and jumping about with wild exuberance. “We want our surprise and we want it now!”

I shivered as I realized how close I was to being in the middle of those eager, inquisitive and smiling faces; the thought of being trapped in that mess almost caused me to hyperventilate, I was so scared!

“Come on, sister, what were you yelling about,” the youngest of the three fussed. “You said you caught something and we going to show it to us. Where is it? What was it? You weren’t teasing us again, were you?”

During this exchange I probably should have slipped away and made my way to safety; a smarter person would, but I didn’t. Not just yet, anyway; I was so close I was afraid I might give my position away. Also, I was more than a bit curious, bordering on nosey. I wanted to know how my new friend was going to explain herself to her siblings; I also wanted to see if she was going to keep her word and not give away my naughty secret.

“Hey, it’s not my fault you didn’t get to see what I caught,” Jackie said in a teasing, sisterly voice. “I called you ten minutes ago, at least, and you all ignored me. Serves you right for being so rude!”

“It wasn’t ten minutes,” the oldest of the three fussed. “It was barely a minute ago. We couldn’t come right then. We were in the middle of changing into our jammies when we heard you!”

“But what was it?” one of the other girls squeaked. “What did you catch?”

“Yeah, what did you catch?” begged the third.

The tall girl laughed. “It was a bunny rabbit. A poor little scared bunny. The poor thing, I think he was so scared, he was shaking like a leaf. He almost peed on me, he was so frightened!”

That last comment shocked me almost as much as it did the little girls. “He almost peed on you? Naughty bunny! Which way did he go? Tell us and we’ll find him!”

I watched with terrified curiosity as Jackie looked around the yard. “Mmmm, it’s hard to say. He’s probably home with his mommy … if he knows what’s good for him.”

The tall girl then looked right in my direction, a knowing smile spread across her lips that pretty much said “You better get going, naked boy!”

I got the message, all right; I had a shiver of fear sweep over me, along with a sudden need to pee. The irony of what Jackie said and how I felt did not escape me. I never could figure out why I always had to pee when I got scared. Something to do with that whole fight or flight thing, I guess.

Anyway, like I said, I got the message. I slowly backed away, carefully moving toward the neighbor’s yard behind me. I must have made a noise, because the girls all suddenly went silent. Through the shrubbery I could see four sets of eyes looking right in my direction. The three younger girls were all wide eyed and smiles, fully expecting to see a rabbit peeking back at them; Jackie’s expression, on the other hand, was a mixture of evil and delight all rolled into one.

“Did you hear that? That must be him!” one of the girls exclaimed. “Let’s go see!”

“Yeah, let’s go get him!” cried the others.

Just as the three girls took the first step in my direction, I broke through the bushes on the other side and ran as fast as I could, leaving a trail of excited voices squealing and laughing behind me. I ran as fast as my bare feet could take me, my lungs sucking in as much air as possible and my arms and legs working as hard as they could to get me away from danger. My heart pounded with fear and my vision almost went black, save for a small circle of light directly ahead; I was so terrified of getting caught by those three giggly girls, I could only focus on making my escape, even if it meant exposing myself to other dangers in the night.

Fate was on my side, thank goodness. I don’t remember seeing anyone else on my race home, and I’m pretty sure no one else saw me. After a bit I had to slow down, I’d worn myself out in my initial panic; trembling and weak-kneed, I padded carefully along the sidewalk, grateful to have made a successful if not less than graceful escape. Still, I wasn’t quite home free; I was a lot further from home than I first thought, which meant I was going to be outside naked a lot longer than I ever thought I’d want.

“This isn’t so bad now, I guess,” I whispered as I darted from tree to tree and kept close to the shadows. “At least I don’t have to worry about those stupid girls getting their hands on me.”

As I creeped along I thought about Jackie and her sisters and what might have happened if they’d caught me. The memory of Miss Thelma and her daughters suddenly hit me and I shivered as I remembered how Tessie and Niecy had pinched and tickled and tormented me in the confines of Mrs. Taylor’s secret garden. Jackie’s little sisters would have done much the same, I was convinced, and maybe even worse, though I had no idea what that would have entailed. All I knew was that I did not want to get caught naked by a bunch of silly, giggly girls, not ever again! I may have once thought that would have been fun, but after going through it in real life, I was done!

When I got to our neighborhood my progress became more complicated. I found the alley that led to my house, which took me out of most of the danger. That also meant the smooth pavement turned to gravel, which slowed me down considerably; I had to walk carefully, to both protect my bare feet and to keep the crunching noise to a minimum. More than once I woke up a dog, triggering a series of annoying howls, yapping and growls, and a couple of times I saw curious homeowners looking out their windows to see what the noise was about. The way was dark and eerie as heck, just as scary as anything out of some dark fairy tale or a horror film.

I finally did make it home without being seen, but the ordeal left me shaken, almost traumatized. I was exhausted but thrilled. I’d just completed the most difficult challenge of a lifetime and I was torn between terror and pride. My parents were still out, thank goodness. All I had to do was go inside and I’d be home free.

As I approached the door I stared at keyhole on the face of the doorknob. My stomach fell as I realized for the first time there was absolutely no way for me to get inside the house; my key was still in my pants pocket. The very same pants that were in Mrs. Taylor’s closet. In her house. In another neighborhood. Almost a mile away.

It was at that very moment that a car approached our driveway and began to turn in. I could tell from the headlights that it was my mother’s car. For an instant I couldn’t figure out why she was coming home so soon, but then I realized it must have taken me nearly an hour to make the trek from Mrs. Taylor’s house, especially if you figured in my little side trip with Jackie. But none of that mattered. If I didn’t do something – and fast! – my mom was about to catch me standing on our front porch in my birthday suit and my little secret would be discovered!

I was doomed!

“Oh, jeez, why me?” I cried. “Why meeee …?”

To be continued ….

(End of File)