Danny and the Girl Next Door Part 1
By David

Copyright 2011 by David, all rights reserved

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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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Part 1

Twelve year old Daniel Gilbert arrived home from school right on schedule, at three forty-five, just as he'd done every school day for the past semester. The junior high school he attended was only a few blocks away, and his parents had calculated the precise amount of time he needed to get home without any detours or visiting with his friends or whatever else it was that children his age liked to do.

Today, however, would be different. He wasn't looking forward to it at all.

Daniel heard the phone ringing as he entered the house. He knew who it was before he even picked up the receiver.

"Oh, good, Danny. You're on time," his stepmother said as he put the earpiece against his face.

He hated it when she called him that name. He much preferred "Daniel," but now was not the time to debate the matter.

"Do you have any homework?" she asked.

"Yes, ma'am. I have to read two chapters in my literature book and do twenty word problems for math."

There she went again, talking to him like he was a little kid. He covered the mouthpiece and sighed a typical preteen sigh of frustration.

"Yes, ma'am," he answered gruffly.

"Remember, Danny, as soon as we're done talking I want you to go to your room and put away your school clothes. If you have any problems, call me, understand?"

"Yes, ma'am, I understand." He paused for a moment, then cleared his throat. "Um, it's Friday. Can't I just wait and do all this tomorrow?"

There was a long silence from the other end of the line. Daniel rolled his eyes as he realized he'd probably just made a big mistake.

"I thought we had all this worked out, baby doll," his stepmother said. "Your father will be out of town for the weekend and you agreed to do as I say. Don't you remember? You're not going back on your word, are you, Danny? I mean, we can do this the hard way if you want."

The seventh grader shook his head. "No, ma'am. I was just thinking, you know ...."

"Well, stop it!" There was another long silence and for an instant Daniel thought she had hung up. "You're going to keep your end of the bargain, right, honey bunny? I want to remind you, this is something we both agreed on. Remember? If you decide you don't want to go through with this, then we can go to your father and work things out his way, okay? Is that what you want? I can call him right now and tell him all about ...."

There was a third long pause. It sounded like she was talking to someone on the other end of the line. Daniel frowned. "Good. I'm glad to hear it. You do this and I promise I won't take any of that other stuff to your father. We'll just keep it between ourselves. Now, I've got things to do and you've got plenty of things to do, too."

Daniel blushed a bit and sighed. "Yes, ma'am. I'll get started right now."

"I'll be home sometime around six. If you're done with your homework and you've got all your chores done, you can watch an hour of television if you like. Maybe."

"Okay, okay." The frustrated boy bit his lip. "But what about this weekend? What about tomorrow? If I do this tonight can't we just skip tomorrow?"

There was, of course, another of the long silences. This time Daniel was certain he heard his stepmother whispering to someone else. He waited for her to say something but got more whispering. He started getting impatient. After a couple of minutes he felt the urge to go to the bathroom.

"Delores ...?" he said with a hoarse voice.

"Shhhh ... hold on. I'm busy."

Daniel frowned. He was getting mad, but he was also worried. Surely she wasn't talking to someone about him. He certainly hoped not. No, that couldn't be, he figured. The arrangement between him and his stepmother was supposed to be a secret. Besides, who would she tell? Who could she tell? That wouldn't make any sense at all.

"Now, what were you asking?" his stepmother finally replied. "You didn't use my name did you? What are you suppose to call me?"

Danny took a breath and carefully let it out.

"You said to call you 'mother'."

"Then say it. Say 'mother,' then ask your question."

Daniel sighed ... again. His bladder was starting to ache, he had to go so bad.

"I don't think so," the woman's voice snapped. "That is not negotiable. I'm going to hang up now and you've got things to do. You will do as you promised. Or else! Do you understand me?"

The squirming twelve year old nodded. He really, really had to go to the bathroom!

"Yes, ma'am. I will. I promise."

"What? Who are you talking to?"

Daniel thought for a second. "Sorry. Yes, Mother. I promise."

After hanging up the phone, Daniel ran upstairs to the bathroom, he flipped up the lid and he loosened his trousers. Relief at last! For a few minutes he felt a bit of happiness and everything was all right with the world.

When he was done peeing he flushed and went to his bedroom. He didn't wash his hands, nor did he bother fixing his pants. That would be counter to what he had to do next.

"This is so stupid!" he said aloud to no one but himself. "Damn it! She's not my mother!"

Daniel didn't know whether to laugh or cry, he was so confused about his situation. He did a little bit of both as he began removing his shirt. After undressing completely he put his clothes away, including his socks and underwear, which he deposited in the laundry bin in the hallway. He then went back to the bathroom where he flipped up the seat and sat down.

As he sat there and waited for his body to do what came naturally, the nude child looked at the mirror on the wall opposite him and he stared at his reflection for the longest while.

"You stupid idiot!" he said aloud to himself. "It's your own damned fault. Now you're in all sorts of trouble."

Like most boys his age Daniel spent more than his share of time in front of the mirror. With his long dark blond hair reaching past his ears and a set of bangs just brushing his eyes, he thought he was kind of cute. At least that's what the women and girls always told him. Even his stepmother – in her nicer moments – bragged to her friends how "adorable" and "sweet" he looked.

"It's hard to believe he is his father's son, isn't it?" she'd scoff. "Danny's way too pretty to be a boy. Sometimes I think he'd make a better girl."

Daniel hated being called girlis almost as much as he hated the name "Danny." But even he had to admit that he wasn't exactly the toughest looking guy on the block. At first he thought it was his hair, but lots of guys had long hair. Then he realized it had something to do with his face. The older ladies in particular would fawn over his long eyelashes, deep blue eyes and soft, fair complexion. They also commented quite frequently on his lips, using words like "kissable" and "cupid's bow." He spent a lot of time staring at his face in the mirror and never quite got it. It didn't matter. Guys just don't pay attention to stuff like that.

Daniel's preadolescent obsession with his reflection was limited to the neck up, however. He hated his body and he despised the way he looked in his birthday suit. Here he was, nearly thirteen years old – well, in nine months – almost a teenager, and his body didn't look much different than it did when he was in grade school. His skinny arms and soft torso were devoid of any musculature, and his plump bottom and legs looked like they belonged to a girl. Worse yet, he didn't have any hair anywhere, not under his arms, not on his legs, nowhere! Most important, the place between his legs was completely smooth and blemish free ... and small, just like a baby.

"Ugh!" he always said as he stared at himself in the mirror. "One of these days ... one of these days ...."

After a few minutes Daniel's bowels emptied into the toilet and he peed again. He then wiped himself with toilet paper and then flushed. Sighing loudly, the naked boy filled the sink with warm soapy water and retrieved a wash cloth from the cabinet.

"I really hate this," he said as he soaped up the cloth and proceeded to wash himself, starting with his face, ears and neck and ending with his penis, balls and bottom. Running the warm soapy cloth over his privates and between his cheeks was an awful feeling. He'd thought about skipping this step but decided against it.

"She'll probably check me if I don't," he whispered to himself. "She did it before, she's likely to do it again. Dang it!"

After rinsing out his washcloth and cleaning up the sink, the naked boy proceeded downstairs and toward the kitchen. The smooth stone tile felt cool and foreign against his bare feet. He saw a long list of chores written on the chalkboard next to the refrigerator.

"Aw, you gotta be kidding," he cried out. "I'll never get all these done. She can't be serious!"

Daniel padded barefoot across the room and studied the list. "Danny's chores," it said in a bold feminine script. There was the word again. Oh, how he hated being called "Danny"!

"Stupid bitch," he muttered softly. "I hate her!"

Resigned to his fate, the naked child tackled the first chore on the list, the dishes. He hated doing dishes more than anything on earth. Well, except for doing them naked.

"I guess it could be worse," Daniel fussed aloud. "At least there's nobody here to see me like this."

He looked out the window and thought for a moment. He tried to imagine what he would do if someone walked in the kitchen and saw him right then and there. It wouldn't be so bad if it was his stepmother. His father, well, that wouldn't be good. The worst would be if one of his friends from school saw him like that. Especially if it was a girl! Just thinking about the possibility was enough to make him squirm in his birthday suit.

"I'd probably pass out if a girl saw me like this," Daniel Gilbert muttered as he scrubbed away at a greasy pan. "That wouldn't be any fun at all!"

* * *
 

 Hannah Wilson was one miserable child. At thirteen years of age and one hundred and fifty pounds, she was the living of example of how not to be cool. In addition to being an awkward, overweight adolescent, she had a bad case of acne, wore glasses and sported a severe overbite that rivaled that as seen on popular cartoon rabbits. Oh, she was smart and funny and pleasant enough when she had to be. She had few friends, a couple of other girls, of course, but not even one boy who was a friend much less a "boyfriend."

"I don't know why you're such a pouty puss," her friend Samantha said. "You're really smart and you're so funny. You're not really all that ... that ... you know ...."

"Fat," Hannah said, digging her friend out of the social hole she'd inadvertently created for herself.

Hannah grunted. Her companion was indeed the skinniest girl in the school. And – next to her – arguably the ugliest. Instead of acne Samantha suffered the worst case of freckles anyone on planet earth had ever seen. Her face looked like someone had spattered it with mud. And where Hannah's long blond hair was scraggly and wispy, Samantha's red hair was short and kinky. She looked like an ugly boy in a dress.

"Yeah," the chubby blond girl said with a sigh. "I guess things could be worse. I could kill myself, I guess."

Before the tall freckle-faced girl could respond they were joined by the other half of Hannah Wilson's social world. Edith McAdams was as tiny and meek as she was pale and misshapen. In contrast to the typical "pretty girls" her age, she had a dwarfish look, her skinny upper body mismatched with her heavy lower frame. A birth defect caused her to limp as she approached the other two girls. The diminutive girl clutched her books, looked around and greeted her friends with a pronounced lisp.

"Tho, what'th up, thithter girlth? Why the grim fatheth? Thomebody path away?"

Hannah and Samantha exchanged glances and in practiced unison they sighed. This was a ritual that took place every day at this time. They were the only two in the school who understood half of what their little friend ever said. Little Edith was well aware of her speech impediment and she hardly said a word all day long. But when the three of them got together it was practically impossible to shut her up.

"Tonight's the school dance and Hannah's all tore up about it," Samantha replied.

"The danthe ith tonight?" Edith blinked, then frowned. She looked like a frog with her round glasses and pug nose. "Oh, well? Why are you tho upthet, Hannah?"

Hannah started to reply, but Samantha interrupted.

"It's because she didn't get picked for the junior prom queen again this year," the freckle faced girl said with a deadpan expression. "I told her if she'd get that boob job she'd be a sure thing."

Edith frowned again. "I thuppothe you think that'th funny, teathing poor Hannah like that," she lisped. "I don't. I think it'th cruel and unnethethary."

Samantha grinned. "I thuppothe there'th thome withdom in your wordth, Edith," she said in mock sincerity. "Thtill, I can't thee it. I thay we jutht fathe reality and deal the handth we're dealt."

The tiny bespectacled girl frowned for a second, then rolled her eyes. "That'th the wortht lithp I'ver ever heard," she replied nonchalantly. "You're not even clothe. You thound like a bad thtandup comic on one of thothe televithion thowth. You definitely need more practithe."

Samantha couldn't help but crack up at her little friend's reaction. Edith, too, got caught up in the laughter and for a moment they were laughing loudly and hysterically.

"Oh, thit," the smaller girl said, wiping away her tears. "I'm gonna pith mythelf."

Which, of course, triggered another wave of laughter between the two friends.

On any other day Hannah would have found all this rather hilarious. But not today. Today was different. She wasn't sure why, exactly, but she felt the need to be alone.

"I gotta go," the plump seventh grader said with feigned apology. "It's getting late and my mom's expecting me."

The other two girls closed together and watched their friend struggle down the sidewalk. Samantha gave Edith that "whattaya gonna do?" shrug and shook her head.

"Hey, don't let it get you down," she called after Hannah. "It's gonna get better! I promise!"

The fat girl turned around and looked at her. "You can't promise that," she said sharply.

Samantha started to reply, but little Edith interrupted her.

Hannah Wilson stared at her diminutive friend. "What makes you so smart?"

"Geneticth," Edith shot back. "But that'th not the point. Change ith coming. That'th what life ith all about!"

Hannah turned around and sighed. "Well, it better start changing soon ...."

She took a deep breath and continued waddling home.

* * *
 

Daniel Gilbert had finally finished cleaning the kitchen and was running the vacuum cleaner in the living room when he felt a cool breeze against his back. He shivered a bit and looked around. It felt for a moment like someone had opened the front door.

"Delores?" he called out.

Shutting off the little machine, he tiptoed toward the hallway and peered around the corner.

"Anybody there?"

Thank goodness no one was there. Shaking his head, he went back to work, eager to finish this chore and get on with the rest.

"I'll be so glad when this weekend is over!" he said, his voice obliterated by the loud shriek of the vacuum. "This is so stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid!"

This wasn't the first time he'd done his chores naked. He thought about how he'd gotten himself in this mess and he felt sick to his stomach.

"It's my own damned fault! I am so stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid!"

The fact of the matter was that ever since Daniel's stepmother moved in last year things had gotten pretty strange in the Gilbert household. He and his father had been on their own ever since his parents' divorce when he was in grade school. His mom lived out of state and her alcoholic husband didn't much like Daniel, so he ended up living with his father by default. For a couple of years the youngster had been allowed to do pretty much what he liked, his father being busy with his job and his position with the reserves.

Then Delores came into his life and things got all weird.

At first Daniel was as crazy about his new stepmother as his father was. She showed herself to be as funny and charming as she was attractive. And the way she flirted with the younger Gilbert was enough to win over both father and son. Even though he was only eleven at the time, Daniel was in love with this beautiful dark-haired woman who buttered him up and treated him so lovingly. Delores never passed up the chance to give him a little kiss or a wink, most often for no reason at all. Occasionally she would pull the blushing youngster close and practically bury his face in her breasts before smothering his face with kisses. Then she would tickle and caress him until he was shaking with giggling laughter. Just being around her sometimes caused Daniel to blush and stammer and his whole body would tremble with excitement.

"You like that, don't you, baby doll?" Delores would tease after one of her hugging and tickling sessions. "I better watch out. If you're anything like your daddy, we might have problems."

Daniel's crush on his stepmother turned sour, however, shortly after she married his father. It started with little things like the sudden increase in the amount of chores he had to do. When it was just him and his father there had never been many dishes to wash. But now it seemed that he was spending at least an hour in the kitchen every day of the week, scrubbing pots and pans and washing lipstick from countless cups and glasses.

"Don't worry about it," Mr. Gilbert said when Daniel complained. "Delores is right. Doing a few chores won't hurt you. You need to learn a little responsibility."

"But Dad, it's not fair! She's always bossing me around. She's not even my real mom!"

His words fell on deaf ears. It didn't matter to his father that he'd been turned over to a complete stranger.

"I don't want to hear it! Do as you're told. I do not need any grief from you or your new mother ...."

"But Dad! She's NOT my mother!"

SLAP!!!

The baffled eleven year old felt ill as he nursed his cheek. He turned to look at his stepmother through tearful eyes. The smirk on her face would haunt him in the days and weeks to come.

As retribution for his complaining about the chores, Delores added laundry and vacuuming and dusting to the list. These were particularly demeaning, especially when he was given lessons on how to spray his father's stained underpants and how to iron dresses and hang lingerie in the bathroom. At least twice a week the frustrated child was expect to run the vacuum and dust all the rooms. His stepmother supervised from the couch, smiling and gossiping on the phone while he fought back the urge to scream.

That summer, shortly after he turned twelve, Delores caught Daniel in a lie, a simple little white lie about why he was late coming home late for supper and where he'd been. It wasn't that big a deal but somehow it escalated into a crisis of near-international proportions. Only when his stepmother started to call his father did he come clean about how he'd been with his friend shooting a pellet gun. And that's when she really went off on him.

"But it wasn't a weapon," Daniel tried to explain. "It was an air gun."

The next thing he knew he was led upstairs to his parents' bedroom and told to drop his pants. He watched in disbelief as his stepmother retrieved one of his father's belts from the closet rack.

"You ... you're not going to really whip me, are you? Over something like this?"

Daniel stood motionless for a moment, processing what was about to happen. His father had rarely ever spanked him. In fact, he hadn't really hit Daniel until Delores moved in with them.

"What did I say? Don't just stand there. Drop those pants. Your panties, too."

"You're not really going to whip me? Not really ...?" Dumbstruck, the youngster fumbled with his trousers. "I'll listen, I promise."

The dark-haired woman looked from the belt in her hand to the trembling boy. "Too late. You should have thought of that before you lied."

"I'm telling Dad," he said weakly. "He wouldn't whip me over something like this."

"Nooooo, don't do that." Daniel bit his lip. She was right and she knew it. He was doomed.

"Now think about it, honey bunny, which would you rather have. Your pretty mommy spanking your bare butt or your father wailing the tar out of you?"

There was nothing to say. The trembling boy just stood and tried not to cry.

"That's what I thought," the dark-haired woman said merrily.

Daniel felt like he was in a trance as his stepmother suddenly pulled him close and pushed his hands aside. In a second his pants and underwear were tangled around his ankles and he was shoved down across the bed. He looked up over his shoulder to see her smile.

"You're going to learn to do as I say and respect me" – she slapped her hand with the ominous belt – "if it's the last thing I do."

Delores only hit him five times, but it was enough. She flayed his plump white bottom with the hard leather strap and a fierce expertise that belied a certain degree of pleasure. It didn't last all that long, but as far as Daniel was concerned the beating seemed to go on forever. His stepmother's secret was in the timing. She'd hit him once, pause and watch her young victim squirm and cry and beg. Once he calmed down she'd scold him some more, then she'd hit him again and repeat the process.

SLAP!!!

"Oh, god, it burns! It burns!"

SLAP!!!

"Please, stop! Please, Delores, stop it!"

SLAP!!!

"Please, oh god, stop!!! Please stop!!!!"

SLAP!!!

"STOP IT!!!! PLEEEEEEEEEEASE STOP IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!"

She finally did stop. But not before seeing the sobbing child reduced to a quivering pulp of tears and contrition. After watching her young victim for a few minutes, Delores Gilbert sat on the edge of the bed and slowly ran her fingers over the bright red stripes that decorated the child's pale bottom. An evil thought took root, one that would bode no good for the sobbing Daniel.

In the days that followed Daniel lost his trousers quite often, at least two or three times a week, usually right after school, sometimes on the weekend, but never when his father was home. It didn't matter what he did or didn't do, leave a dirty dish in the sink, forget to do a chore, leave the television on when exiting a room or – his stepmother's favorite excuse – just being disrespectful, he couldn't avoid getting his bottom tanned within the space of just a few days.

As badly as the beatings hurt – and they hurt really badly! – it was the aftermath that Daniel dreaded the most. Delores developed a little routine where she would make him spend a little time after each whipping standing in front of her, pants and underwear still down around his ankles. Looking and feeling so very foolish, the remorseful lad would have to apologize for his crime and explain why it was important for him not to do it again. Then she would make him ask for forgiveness, which she would grant, but only after the contrite child was awash in tears. This whole ritual was exceptionally humiliating – which was the point of the matter, no doubt – and he wished she'd just beat him more rather than putting him through such an experience.

"Consider yourself lucky," his stepmother said on more than one occasion. "I could just make you run around in your birthday suit. Now wouldn't that be fun! Just think of all the laundry you wouldn't have to do."

Daniel didn't think that would be fun at all! He tried to imagine being made to go without any clothes in front of his stepmother and the very thought terrified him! Of course, the frustrated boy tried to get his father to intervene before things got out of hand, but it was useless.

"Son, it's your own fault. Stop screwing up so much! It's not that hard. Just try to get along, all right?"

"But, Dad ...."

"I don't want to hear any more about it! I don't care if she has to give you a whipping every day. It's my own fault for letting you run wild. You've got to learn to mind her, understand. You don't and you'll get it again when I come home from work! Is that what you want? Is it? Is it???"

Daniel Gilbert sighed. "No, sir," he said.

It was just a few weeks after the beginning of the school year that things got really messed up. It couldn't have come at a worse time. Daniel was so excited to finally be in junior high school. Everything seemed so different, as if he was finally on the edge of growing up. Most important, he'd started to notice girls and they were noticing him. Whatever happened at home between him and his stepmother didn't seem to matter anymore, not when he was at school at least. That was a different world, far from his newly discovered social life and the possibility of new things.

But then Daniel got caught stealing cash from his stepmother's purse. It was only a couple of dollars, but she'd figured it out. He was supposed to go to the school game with his friends, – Jennifer McCarty was supposed to be there! – but he found himself grounded instead. He started to complain, but he backed down when Delores threatened to call his father.

"Come on, let's go upstairs. I'll get your father's belt and you can drop your drawers."

Daniel panicked! He turned and ran out of the house. He wasn't about to go through all that again, and so he went over to Steve Mitchell's house. He stayed there until Steve had to go to the game. He was invited to go, but he decided he'd better not push his luck and it was time to go home.

Delores was waiting for him, of course. She was sitting in the living room, smoking a cigarette. With his father's belt in hand.

"Are you ready to take your medicine?" she asked. "Or do you want to make things worse for yourself?"

"Don't you touch me!" the defiant Daniel cried. "I'll run away again! I'll run away and won't come back! And it'll all be your fault!"

What happened next was completely unexpected. Instead of yelling and screaming, the dark-haired woman took a puff from her cigarette and smiled.

"Fine," Delores said. "Run away. That'll be no problem at all. If it was up to me I'd let you go. Go back to that drunk mother of yours and good riddance. But your father doesn't want that, so I'm stuck with you. Step out that door and I'm calling the police."

Daniel blinked. "The ... police?"

The confused boy frowned. "You wouldn't really do that, would you?"

"Try me. Go ahead, try me. The police have very little patience for brats who steal from their parents and then run away. I don't imagine you'd have a very nice time in jail. A pretty little boy like you in there with all those big ugly criminals? I don't think that would be much fun at all."

Daniel lowered his head. To hear it put like that made him feel ashamed. He also was afraid of going to jail.

"I'm sorry, Delores," he said with a quivering voice. "I really am."

"You better be," Delores said. "Now, get upstairs and drop those pants ...."

After a particularly hard whipping Daniel found himself standing in front of his stepmother, his jeans still down around his ankles, his eyes burning with tears.

"We're going to try something different," she said. "Obviously spanking isn't doing much good, so we're going to go another step."

 His stepmother grinned. "Well, that's the first smart thing I've hear you say today. Let's give it a try, then. First, I don't want you calling me 'Delores' any longer. Call me 'mother.' Can you do that? Hmm? Hmmm?"

A brief wave of anger hit him and he felt his face turn red. He looked at the belt laying on the bed and then up at his stepmother's expectant face. He sighed.

"Okay."

"Okay what?"

The frustrated boy sighed again. "I'll call you 'mother.'"

Daniel pursed his lips, then nodded. "I love you, Mother."

The dark-haired woman pulled him close and gave him a long hug, then a kiss on the side of the mouth. It felt kind of weird, but he didn't complain.

"I love you, too, baby doll."

There was an awkward moment of silence while Daniel's stepmother just seemed to stare at him. Finally, she put out her cigarette and nodded.

"Now that we've got that out of the way, let's see if we can find another way to keep you in line. Raise your arms up, honey bunny ...."

Daniel was startled as she grabbed the bottom of his t-shirt and started pulling it over his head.

"What ... what are you doing?"

"Baby doll, we can't have you threatening to run off every time you get your feelings hurt. So we're going to try something different. For the rest of the weekend you'll just be in your birthday suit. Try running off from me again in your bare skin. See how far you'll get with your little fat butt showing, my little naked thief."

A sharp look shut him down. "What are you supposed to call me? Do you want me to use your father's belt on you again?"

A shudder of fear swept over the frightened boy. "I'm sorry ... Mother."

The next thing he knew, he was absolutely and assuredly naked. He'd never been completely naked in front of her stepmother before. Well, sure, she'd seen him with his pants down plenty of times whenever he got his whippings, but he'd always had something on to pull up or down and cover himself when it was all over with. But this was another thing entirely. He wore absolutely nothing but his birthday suit, his jeans and t-shirt and underwear and socks all laying on the sofa next to his hated stepmother.

"There, now isn't that better? No, don't touch yourself there! Put your hands down at your side. That's better." The stunned child shivered when Delores reached down and gave his little penis a playful flick with her finger. "Now you can't keep any secrets from me. No clothes, no pockets, no secrets ... no more problems. I think I'm going to like this!"

Daniel never felt so awful in his entire life! He tried to think of something to say, but he was so outraged, so in shock, all he could do was start crying again. He was as mad at himself as he was at his stepmother. Here he was, twelve years old and in junior high school, and he couldn't even stop from being stripped naked!

But then it got worse.

"Speaking of pockets, let's see what else you've been up to." Delores picked up his jeans and started going through them. "If you've been stealing from me there's no telling what else you've been up to."

Daniel felt his stomach fall a thousand feet. It was bad enough to be standing stark-naked in front of the woman who was ruining his life, but to see her going through his personal things was ....

Oh, crap ... not my pockets!!! She's gonna find ... oh, god, no!!!

The shamed boy watched helplessly as his stepmother laid everything she found out on the coffee table. In addition to some bubble gum and a pencil and some scrap note paper, there was his father's old pocket knife, a key, some change and two twenty dollar bills.

The forlorn child nodded. "Yes, ma'am," he said softly.

"You took it to school? Don't lie."

He nodded again. "Yes. But I didn't take it out or anything."

Daniel sobbed. "Please don't tell him, Delores." There was that look again. "I mean, Mother, please don't tell him. Please, I'll do anything! Please?"

Unmoved, the dark-haired woman held up the key. "What's this to?"

Daniel tried to swallow. "Um, nothing. Just my footlocker, that's all."

Delores smiled. "The one that's always locked? Your secret stash? Well, well ... we'll have to take a look at that, won't we?"

The naked boy felt sick. His stepmother was the one person in the world he didn't want snooping around in his things. He looked down at his naked body. He felt so powerless. There was no way at all to stop her. He wished he was a million miles away right then.

"And this money? Where did you get it? Do NOT lie to me!"

Huge tears pooled up in the sobbing boy's eyes. He shrugged his shoulders and tried to speak.

"Let me guess. You stole it from your father's drawer, too. Right? Don't you dare lie to me if you know what's good for you!"

Daniel nodded. "I ... I just borrowed it."

"Okay then. Stealing from me. Stealing from your father. I wonder what else you've been up to." Delores stood up, the key held high in her hand. "Let's go see what you have in your secret stash. More stolen goods, no doubt."

It was a long, agonizing trek up to his room. Daniel's naked body shook with fear as he walked before his stepmother. Without his pants or anything to cover up with, he felt so small and helpless. Knowing what was coming next just made things worse. The closer to his room they got, the deeper his breathing became and the more he shook. By the time they were standing next to the old army footlocker he was a blubbering mess.

"Please, Delores ... don't open it up. It's ...."

At first glance it was pretty much what you'd expect a twelve year old boy to have hidden away in an old footlocker. On top there were some prized comic books and another couple of pocket knives and some baseball cards. There were also a few photos of his mother ... from happier days long gone. Some old toy soldiers and die cast cars and a little box with some foreign coins his father brought back from overseas. An old field jacket with authentic insignia.

But then ....

"Ah, here we go," Delores Gilbert said happily. "Just as I thought. You little pervert, you."

It was his girlie magazine, of course. Beneath all the collectibles and mementoes were a couple of dozen magazines pilfered from a box in the basement belonging to his father. Some were the typical girlie magazines featuring models in various stages of undress. There were a few nudist publications showing naked families enjoying a day in the sun playing volley ball and swimming and playing tennis. And then there those racy men's adventure magazines with covers depicting pretty young girls and women – most with their clothing ripped to shreds – bound and held captive by enemy soldiers, half-naked natives and mad scientists.

Daniel took a deep breath. He looked down at his nakedness and felt ill. This was the most humiliating thing that had ever happened to him in his entire twelve years on this earth! It was probably the most terrible day of his life!

His stepmother thumbed through the nudist magazine and held up a page showing a group of young girls playing on the beach. They were all naked, of course, about the same age as Daniel.

The embarrassed boy shrugged his shoulders. He couldn't think of anything to say that wouldn't make things worse.

"I think maybe I'm on to something here. Maybe you'd think differently if you had to parade around naked all the time." The smile on Delores' face turned wicked and dark. "Maybe I'll just bring some girls over here to gawk at your fat little naked butt. Would that be fun for you? Hmm? Hmmm? What do you think about that, my little naked pervert?"

"Please, Delores, noooooo," the mortified boy whined. He caught himself and sobbed. "I mean, please, Mother ... nooooooo ...."

Daniel watched helplessly as his stepmother rummaged on through his illicit treasures. She suddenly stopped. The naked boy froze, not taking a breath.

"What is this?" his stepmother asked, holding a pair of white panties up and examining them with unnerving closeness. "Is this mine?"

"Um, I dunno."

Delores Gilbert gave her son a hard look. "Do NOT – I repeat – do NOT lie to me."

Daniel started crying. "It's a pair of panties."

"I know they're panties, honey bunny. Where'd you get them? Answer me!"

He tried to answer, but he got so upset he found it hard to breath.

"They're mine, aren't they?" Delores said with a cocked eyebrow as the tearful boy nodded his head. "I wondered what happened to them. A little something you borrowed from your ugly old stepmother?"

After catching his breath Daniel confessed to taking the skimpy panties from the laundry. Delores quickly noted that they were soiled with a hard and crusty stain. She made a point to mention this to her sobbing stepson, and she questioned him thoroughly on the matter.

She looked at her stepson and thought for a second. "You haven't been wearing them, too, have you? I bet your father will be just thrilled to hear this."

"Nooooooooo," sobbed the horrified child. "I ... didn't wear them. Please don't tell that to my daaaaaaaad ...."

With a look of disgust she tossed them on his bed. "You may as well keep them. I don't want them back. Ugh, they're yours now. You will wash them, however. Soon as we're done here. When they're clean and dry you can put them under your pillow. That way they'll be handy whenever you need to jack off. I don't want any of your nasty spunk on my bed sheets. Do you understand me? Hmm? Hmmm?"

Daniel nodded. He could not believe what he was hearing. How could she know all this stuff about him? Was she some kind of mind reader? It was like she'd been spying on him in his most intimate moments. He wondered if he was having a bad dream or something.

By the time Delores was done interrogating her stepson it was evident that she had made her point. The poor boy was so upset and crying so hard, it would more merciful to have beaten him.

"Stealing from your parents ... lying and perversion? My, oh, my, we've got so much to talk about, don't we?"

"Oh, he won't kill you, honey. You might wish you were dead. But he won't kill you."

The smiling woman lit up another cigarette. She drew in a long breath, studied the naked boy before her and chuckled.

Delores Gilbert felt a surge of delight sweep over her warm body. Things were working out better than she ever expected. "Okay, here's what we're going to do. I won't tell your father on you. Let's see what happens this weekend. If it works out, then maybe we'll do it again. I've got a few ideas that just might be fun ...."

And that, dear reader, is how twelve year old Daniel Gilbert came to be naked and doing chores in his parents' house on a quiet Friday afternoon.

* * *
 

The walk home from school wasn't that far if you were a typical teen, but for a girl of Hannah Wilson's size and stature it was long and tedious. She tended to lower her head as she walked so she wouldn't have to look people in the eye, but that wasn't so good because then she had to see herself. She hated looking down at her huge legs and her fat belly and those awful breasts. Her mother bought her some nice jeans but they were too binding and she ended up wearing sweatpants – again! – just so she could be comfortable. They made her look like a slob, of course, which made it hard for her to look at. And so, torn between not wanting to look people in the eye and hating looking at herself, the forlorn child just kind of stared off into space as she made her way home.

Which kind of explained why she was surprised to see her mother standing at the front door when she arrived home.

Hannah glanced over to see her mom's car in the driveway. What the heck? She entered the house and dumped her book bag on the table.

"Oh, I'm fine, Mom. Just tired. It was a long day and, you know ...."

Mrs. Wilson nodded. She took her daughter in her arms and gave her a long, warm hug. "I know, doll. I know. Hey, how about us getting a drink and cooling off for a minute. I need your help for something, okay? It'll just take a minute. It might even be fun!"

Hannah Wilson looked at her mother. This was really odd. Why was she home anyway? She usually went to the gym on Fridays. Usually she wouldn't be home for at least another hour or more. Why was she wearing a dress anyway? And why did she have that goofy looking smile on her face?

"I don't know, Mom. I don't feel like doing anything. I think I'll just go take a nap."

"Oh, no you don't, young lady. You can take a nap any time. You need to come with me. Let's get that drink and take a little walk, okay?"

Mrs. Wilson sighed. "No, honey, you're not in trouble. You just ... oh, never mind. You just need to come with me. Now! Trust me, sweetie, you're going to thank me later. I promise."

Hannah Wilson shrugged. "Sure, Mom. Whatever you say ...."

* * *
 

Daniel Gilbert tried to put his misery out of his mind as he worked. The pouting boy thought about school, his friends, anything but where he was and what he was doing at the moment. Washing the dishes hadn't been so bad. At least standing at the sink he could pretend he had some clothes on. Sweeping the floor forced him to look down, which meant seeing his unclothed body way too much for comfort.

And now, on a quiet fall afternoon, in the middle of a typical mid-southern American neighborhood, Daniel Scott Gilbert stood stark naked in the middle of his parents' living room, miserable, frustrated and near tears. Vacuum hose in hand and his ears ringing from the sound of the high speed electric motor sucking up dirt and dust from the floor, the exasperated boy felt so exposed, so silly, as his slender penis bounced back and forth and his bare bottom bumped against the furniture.

Another gust of air caressed Daniel's skin, this time between his butt cheeks. He shivered as he thought about his bare bottom and how it must look from behind.

"At least nobody's around to see me naked," he muttered to himself. "That would be the worst!"

Just then the vacuum nozzle snagged the edge of the living room rug and got stuck. He shut off the machine and sighed.

"Shit! I hate when it does that."

The naked child knelt down in the middle of the living room and fiddled with the nozzle, untangling the material and spreading the rug back in its proper position. He felt so stupid down on all fours in his birthday suit, his hands and knees splayed out in every direction and his privates hanging freely between his naked thighs.

"Ew, this is creepy," he whispered to himself. He shivered as he thought about what he must look like in such a humiliating pose. "I don't like this at all!"

Daniel was just about to get up when he heard what sounded like someone clearing their throat. A shadow caught his eye and when he looked around he almost jumped out of his skin. Standing directly behind him was a pretty woman in a crisp dress, heels and bright smile, looking happily at his exposed bottom.

"Hello, Danny," Mrs. Wilson said, her eyes alight with delight. "I hope we didn't scare you. Your mother asked me to check on you to make sure you were following her instructions." The grinning woman looked him up and down and laughed. "It looks like you certainly are! You are such a helpful boy! And you've got such a cute butt, too!"

Daniel was caught completely by surprise! Still kneeling on the floor, he quite literally did not know what to do. He didn't know whether to get up and run away, roll up into a ball and start crying or politely ask her to take a seat and offer her something cool to drink. His expression reflected his horror. His eyes were wide with shock and his mouth was open in the form of a perfect "O."

"You might want to close your mouth before you catch some flies," Mrs. Wilson said in a lovely, sing-song voice.

Pursing his plump lips, Daniel took a deep breath and nodded. He tried to think of something to say, but he couldn't. He tried to cover himself, his nakedness, but he couldn't move. He even tried to look away, but he couldn't do anything but just kneel there like a dummy.

What's wrong with me? he thought. Do something, stupid!

Later he would decide that it was Mrs. Wilson's eyes that held him captive during that first encounter. Yes, it was her eyes, alight with a fiery mischief, locked in on the hapless child, grabbing his attention and paralyzing him with indecision and fear. Daniel tried to struggle, to break free of the mysterious spell, but it was no use. Completely naked and exposed to his guest's gaze, the poor boy just knelt there in the middle of that huge room with a dumb expression on his face.

He prayed this was all just a bad dream.

"Don't mind us," the pretty woman said. "Go ahead and finish with your vacuuming if you want. We don't mind, do we, Hannah?"

The blushing boy shook, then nodded his head. It took him a minute to realize his guest was not alone.

"Huh?" he grunted. "H- ... Hannah? HUH?"

Oh, SHIT!!! he thought in a panic. It's a girl! I didn't see her there ... what the heck!!!???

Standing slightly behind Mrs. Wilson, just barely out of view, was a plump, ugly faced girl with long thin blond hair. He recognized that face – unfortunately – as one he'd made fun of and teased on more than one occasion.

It's Hannah Wilson, Daniel said to himself with justifiable dread. This isn't good. Not if Hannah Wilson is seeing him naked!

"Wow, I sure never expected this," a soft, surprised voice suddenly called out. The look on Hannah's face was one of amazement mixed with disgust. "He's completely naked, Mom! I can see his bare butt and everything!"

"Oh, gee, I guess you can," replied the smiling lady. "How about that!"

Oh, crap ...! And it's Hannah Wilson? UGH!!!

"I'll ... I ... I better get up," he said with a hoarse, nervous voice.

"Whatever you like, sweetie," the ever-smiling Mrs. Wilson chirped cheerily. She held out her hand. "Here, take my hand."

Daniel felt weak and dizzy as he struggled to stand, his knees wobbling and his feet unsure. He would have fallen if not for Mrs. Wilson taking hold of his hand and helping him. Trembling from head to toe, the naked child fought the urge to run away. He couldn't have done so if he'd tried. The pretty woman still held his hand, her grip suddenly unrelenting. She also moved around so that she was on one side and the fat girl was on his other, blocking his way no matter which direction he wanted to go.

"Geez, look how ugly his thing is," Hannah said rudely. "Do they all look like that?"

Daniel was sick to see the ugly girl staring down at his privates and laughing. Panic-stricken, he tried to cover himself, but he was only partially successful as he only had one hand free. Mrs. Wilson's grip was still tight on the other. He felt ill as she let out an unexpected laugh, her voice like music in contrast to her daughter's sarcastic blast.

"Oh, I don't know, Hannah, sweetie. It's not that ugly, is it? I think he looks kind of cute!"

Daniel froze, unable to move. He was so scared he didn't know what to do. His stomach felt like it did that time he got off the roller coaster and threw up. He prayed that didn't happen again.

"I better ... go to my room ...."

The naked boy started to head for the stairs, but Hannah moved quickly and primly in front of him. At the same time she grabbed hold of his free hand and pulled it away from his between his legs. It was the fastest anyone seen her move in a long time.

"Don't go yet, Danny," the chubby girl said with mock sweetness. She challenged him with her smile and her gaze. "I haven't SEEN you in a long time. I really like what you're wearing! It looks so comfortable. What happened, did you outgrow all your other stuff?"

"Maybe you better leave," Daniel Gilbert said. His voice was hoarse and weak.

Hannah looked toward her mom. Mrs. Wilson winked then laughed.

Daniel blinked. His eyes burned with tears as he looked from the grinning lady to the scowling girl.

"I can't ... you ... you aren't supposed to see me like this ...."

Mrs. Wilson's eyes narrowed and a sneer marred her pretty face. "Oh, I wouldn't worry about that, you pretty little thing. We don't mind. Besides, what's good for you is good for us, right Hannah?"

The pimply faced girl glanced at her mother, then back at the naked Daniel. She looked him up and down, the corners of her mouth twisting into an evil smile.

"I think it's only right, Mother. What's good for him is good for us."

Daniel stared at his two captors, his mind going a thousand miles an hour. He tried to pull his hands away one more time and cover his exposed penis and balls. Neither of his captors would give up. He felt himself being pulled in opposite directions.

It wasn't at all fun.

"Please, let me go ... please?"

Suddenly, the naked boy felt his knees go weak and his vision go faint. Then everything went black ....

To be continued...