An 'X'mas Carol Part Two, Chapter 2

An 'X'mas Carol Part Two, Chapter 2
By Jaech Reiter
jaech_reiter@yahoo.co.uk

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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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An 'X'Mas Carol Part Two, Chapter 2

The next morning, after no more visitations in the night, Ben awoke refreshed and feeling alive and awake, better than he had felt in a long time. But then there was a sudden feeling of snide disdain that slid over him, as had become his habit of late in welcoming the world; fortunately, he recognized it just as quickly, and remembering both his dream/visitation, as well as his own personal resolution, he pushed it away, reminding himself to concentrate on his renewed purpose.

He also remembered what the spirit of Elias Marley had said. His first target was Timmy. He had to become the older brother that he had promised he would be. And, he also had to figure out what 'the task' was that he had to do. He had to both discover it and do it. This was crazy – how was he supposed to 'discover' the task?? And the payment, what about that? Elias had said that he would extract his payment by the end of the night.

Ben looked around his room casually, and then more carefully after getting out of bed; but everything still seemed to be there. Whatever was used in payment was supposed to have been gone already. Not only that, but if he failed to find and do the task, he would get the same payment subtracted from his . . . . . [from his what?] . . . . again and again, up to three times, and after that, whatever it was, he would never get it back. Sounded serious, except for the life of him he couldn't figure out what it was. Nothing was missing.

He soon would what was missing.

Head in the clouds, and scanning the ceiling of his room (wondering if he was paranoid for wondering if he was under 'surveillance' of some sort), he slipped off his pajama pants and underwear and immediately wrapped a towel about his waist and tied it off. He walked down the hallway to the bathroom and stepped in to get his morning shower. He was up a good half hour earlier than normal, and therefore likely to get more of the hot water that he was always complaining he didn't get enough of.

Ben looked in the mirror, surprised he had a smile on his face. That wasn't his normal greeting to himself. It made the whole mirror seem a bit off.

But no.

That wasn't quite it. Something else seemed off. His smile faded slowly as he searched in the mirror for what didn't seem quite right. He looked again, this way and that, not quite sure what it was. He did seem just a tad bit shorter, but that was totally illogical and could not be it. He looked again. His face, it seemed a bit . . . . . softer. That was weird. And his chest and arms, they didn't quite have the definition that he remembered having.

That was all weird. He was sure his chest and arms had been harder than they looked now, more muscled. He raised his arm and flexed it to see his muscled bicep in the mirror. He saw it, and his heart dropped, as did his jaw, and his blood pressure. He saw it. He saw what was wrong. It wasn't his muscle, although that did look less impressive than normal for his personal showing off in the mirror. He was, however, transfixed by something else:

His underarm.

Specifically the hair under his arm ---- there wasn't any.

He quickly raised his whole arm and looked close in the mirror, then looked as direct as he could himself at his bare smooth skin there, and then back in the mirror. He felt under his arm --- nothing. He looked again in the mirror --- still nothing. He then raised the other arm, and the left again, and then the right again. All nothing. Not a hair to be seen under either arm. Then the full realization hit him. He really did look a bit younger.

The payment.

Ben remembered the payment that Elias had spoken of, and that he wouldn't get it back until he discovered and completed the required task. But then an even worse thought occurred to him:

Ben looked down at the front of the towel, fearful of his second thought. He slowly untied the towel and opened it up and - - - - screamed. He looked down again and to be sure - - - - and screamed again. The first scream was the immediately obvious difference: he had no pubic hair. Not a single one, not on his nuts, not over his dick, none. Nowhere; and not a hint that he had ever had any. The second scream was for something even worse. His nuts and dick – they were actually smaller, a lot smaller than just the bit younger that he looked in the mirror. He was sure of it.

But before he could check for sure, Timmy burst into the bathroom, and Ben quickly covered up.

"What happened? I heard you scream!"

Ben's first reaction was to bless his little brother out for barging in on his privacy, but he checked himself before he let it out.

"Get in and close the door, Timmy!" Timmy came in and Ben nervously explained that he thought he knew now what the payment was for Elias' visitation. Timmy asked 'what?', and Ben bit his lip, unsure of showing his little brother. Not a soul had seen him naked in six years or more. But he took a deep breath and opened the front of the towel. "I used to be---"

"---bigger." Timmy finished his brother's sentence, staring out of a double shock: one, that he was allowed to actually look at an older boy's genitals (and his own cherished brother's, no less) and two, because of the change that even he knew had taken place. "And you used to have hair, too."

"Hey, hold on, how do you know all that??"

Timmy gulped and backed up to the door. "S-sorry, B-ben, I . . . I . . . ."

Ben sighed, remembering his new plan. Or kinda what that plan was supposed to involve. "You spied on me. At least once."

"J-just once. Promise!"

"It's OK, Timmy. Honest. Obviously I have bigger problems. . . . . Um . . . . . well, smaller problems."

Timmy gave a laugh at the joke, but stopped himself just as quickly when Ben shot him a look that said even the 'new' Ben wasn't going to let laughing slide.

"Get it hard," Timmy suggested. "See how much . . . uh . . . littler it is."

Ben blush at the suggestion, but equally at the realization that that was exactly what he would need to do, and he attempted to jack himself to an erection to see where he now measured up, but he was just too embarrassed to get there.

"I'll help," Timmy offered, and before Ben could refuse him, the younger boy had grabbed a hold of the half -flaccid dick with his warm hand and gave it a few rubs up and down. The totally novel sensation of another's hand on his cock quickly brought Ben's member to full status. It was definitely smaller.

"I got a ruler in my book bag. I'll go get it!" Timmy eagerly said, running out of the room to be helpful, and secretly in awe and joy of what he had just had the opportunity to do. It felt so much different, so much bigger and more adult than his own recent experiences with his much smaller cock. There was something so cool and amazing holding an older boy's cock like that, moving his hand up and down, feeling it harden within his grasp. His brother, though could barely look at Timmy while he did this obscene, 'brotherly' act. The crimson face told everything, however.

In no time at all, Timmy was back in the bathroom with his ruler; instead of handing it over, he grasped a hold of the steely erection and measured it himself.

"Geez . . .Timmy . . . ." Ben sounded like he was barely holding something in.

"Four inches! It's still pretty big, Ben."

"Yeah, I guess."

True, it was now about appropriate for 50% of his class, albeit the lower 25% for hair, or lack thereof. He was guessing he was also only a half-inch or an inch shorter in total height and only somewhat diminished in obvious musculature; but all that together meant that his edge was gone. His bragging rights, his protection from bullies, his commanding presence, all reduce to naught, and without the balls to back any of it up. This was a hefty payment, and despite his sounding resigned to it, inwardly Ben was going through a free-fall, though he couldn't tell whether he fell through a hole of fear, or horror. And there is a difference.

For Ben, it was the difference of two inches.

"If you don't find that thing you're supposed to do, Ben . . . ."

"Yeah, I got it, Timmy. I figured that much out. . . . . . Sorry. But I know. If I don't find it, I have to pay another price."

"Sorry, Ben."

"It's not your fault. It's mine. Look, please, just don't tell anyone about this, please Timmy. I know I've been mean, but please."

"I won't." Such a good kid; it almost broke Ben's heart again to know how mean he had been to Tim. "I want to help you, Ben."

Ben knelt on the floor before his brother and tried to look him in the eye (though still conscious of the fact that he was totally naked and that his curious little brother couldn't keep his eyes from wandering south and taking in the mystery and majesty of his older brother's dick and balls; smaller than before or not, hairless or not, it was still a rare and great sight for a nine year old).

"Listen, Timmy, I'm pretty sure you aren't supposed to be feeling sorry for me. I think that might make these Christmas spirits even angrier with me. So don't feel bad. If you start feeling bad for me, just remember how mean I've been to you. OK?"

"Ok. Are you sure?"

"Yes. Well . . . . . no . . . . . but, yes."

Ben told his little brother to trust him and sent him out so that he could get a shower. He was freaked out the entire time he was naked by himself, as though he were both with someone else and all alone the whole time, so foreign his body seemed to him. At breakfast, he was still thoroughly distracted with what had happened that he just started pouring Timmy's cereal and milk out for him, as well as his own, not even noticing the silent amazed looks from his mom and sister.

He was behaving so well, so naturally (and so weird, at the same time), that his mom decided to forgo any punishments just yet for recent behaviour. She wanted to see what was going on first, and how this played out. As he was leaving and walking past her, she made a comment that made him completely blush:

"Benny—uh . . . I mean, Ben, I could have sworn your eyes were up to mine already; instead, you still have half an inch to go."

Ben just nodded and added as he turned away, "You can call me 'Benny' mom. It's OK."

Something weird was definitely going on, she thought. But she liked it so far.

"Ben, what was tha---" Fran started when they got outside.

"I don't want to talk about it." Ben brushed her off and headed for the bus stop. He stood next to the last kid on the edge of the group. It took a moment before he realized it was Bobby Koch.

"You look . . . . different, somehow," Bobby observed. But he should have remembered that there was a very good reason he never started any conversations with Ben Scruggs.

"And you need to come up with better pick-up lines, Bobs. I told you before, I'm not interested."

Bobby blushed intensely and pushed past the laughing kids to get to the back of the bunch. Ben's own smile disappeared when he looked over and saw Timmy was also laughing. Before Timmy laughed too much more, Ben pulled him back from the crowd and gave him a stern warning:

"Don't you ever laugh when I make somebody feel bad like that. It's not funny."

"Then why do you do it?"

"I . . . . ." Ben didn't have a good answer.

"It's nice to be able to laugh at somebody else, instead of everybody else laughing at me." Timmy said honestly.

"Just the same . . . . . it makes you a bully. And I . . . . . I don't want you . . . . . I don't want you to be like that. OK?"

Timmy nodded OK, and Ben let him go. There were only a few kids Timmy's age there; it was mostly middle schoolers and a random high schooler or two, so Timmy remained close to his brother.

"Sorry that we're late everybody," an adult voice rang out about half a block down. The voice was met by a collective gasp from all the remaining kids. "We were supposed to be here earlier, but Mr. Grumpy here needed some more convincing to get moving. Seems he didn't want to catch the bus this morning. Can't imagine why not."

This last part was met by a bunch of laughter; but it wasn't the ironic humor that the lady was using that caused the laughter, it was Mr. Grumpy.

"Oh shit . . . . ." Ben let out when he saw the lady and Mr. Grumpy approach.

It was a warm day outside, despite being past November – the beauty of being in South Central Florida. It was great weather for a short sleeve shirt, or even shorts (provided the hem was lower than your fingertips and met the school dress code), but this . . . . . . this was extreme. The lady was wearing a short sleeve, white, polo-style shirt with a pair of gold wings emblazoned at the left chest. Mr. Grumpy, however, was wearing a 2 inch wide bright pink bracelet on each wrist and an inch and a half wide bright pink collar with the letters N – U – D – E – P printed in black on both sides of his collar.

The pink collar and bracelets and a pair of sandals, though, were the only things that Mr. Grumpy was wearing.

That floored Ben, just plain shocked him speechless. That, and the fact that Mr. Grumpy was none other than his own best friend, Jacob Marley, whose ghostly double he had just been with last night. But Jacob wasn't dressed in old fashioned clothes; he wasn't dressed at all. His four inch semi-plump was swinging back and forth in the wind as he walked up to the group, his balls hanging low, looking like any minute they were going to get caught up in between his gangly adolescent legs.

And, also unlike his long-departed great-grandfather, Jacob didn't have a yellow glow about him, though he did look quite nauseous the closer he got to the suddenly appreciative crowd. Instead, he had a bright red glow about his face from unadulterated embarrassment, and a bright pink glow about his plump rumps, that everyone got a look at after he arrived.

"No way!" Todd Beckham called out. He was on the shorter side for their 8th grade class, and very much a studious boy. "I didn't think Hampton County had a Nudie Juvie program!"

"They have for years," The Angel replied. "at least, on the books; but it was never enacted. Folks just assumed it would be too expensive, but most of us Angels are volunteers; so right now it's in the experimental stage. Luck little Jacob here gets to show you what awaits bullies now-a-days."

"You're for real a NEWDD?"

Jacob just blushed further and did not answer until the Angel produced a paddle, seemingly from nowhere, and gave a good swing into his backside. It was a wicked paddle with some futuristic design, and it had an audible back 'zing' as it came out from the rocked rumps; and the howl let out by Jacob let every boy and girl there know just how badly the paddle hurt – that and the probability that 'Mr. Grumpy' had earned himself some tenderization time already that morning.

"I'm sorry!! I'm a Level Zero NUDEP!"

There was a brief second, like the angel was waiting for something more.

"WoooowhaPOWWWzinggg" The paddle went again.

"GnnAAGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!"

"How do we address our superiors?" The lady calmly asked.

"I'm a Level Zero NUDEP, SIR!"

It was obviously a struggle just to try and speak after that second hit to his bare and raw-appearing buttocks. She then instructed him that he did not need to yell 'sir' out like an army cadet, but just add it where appropriate in a normal respectful tone.

"Yes, ma'am," He said, near to tears. That must have been the right tone, though, as she smiled and nodded.

'So what's a Level Zero NUDEP, Mr. Grumpy?" Becky Sanderson asked with a smile.

"It means I have to remain naked at all times throughout my punishment, ma'am. I may not cover up. Anyone who wishes to look may do so. I am to assume any reasonable position to show anything that anyone requests to see better, but no one but myself is allowed to touch my nipples or any area that would normally be in my underwear."

It all sounded rehearsed to Ben, like they had gone over this several times already with Jacob. It also sounded positively, absolutely, death-chillingly horrible. Ben couldn't think of a more terrible and nightmare-inducing punishment than to show yourself naked to anyone who cared to see. His palms were wet and his heart pounding just from the sympathetic fear he felt for Jacob.

Jacob answered a few more questions as level as he could, but he had his directions to look people straight in the eye, something he had a very difficult time doing; though he did get a very convincing reminder:

"WoooowhaPOWWWzinggg"

The scream after this one finally ended in a short sob, but the kids gathered around found out a bit more about what a Level Zero Nudie was in the NUDEP Program.

The idea of the program was nothing new; other counties had used it and similar Nudie Juvie systems to reign in delinquent youth. But the debate in Hampton County, as in the neighboring counties of Walsh, Kernes, and Bolsen had always been a concern of cost versus the low level of delinquency. Hampton County was the only one of the four that had actually pushed an ordinance through, though it had basically stayed on the books unused, again because of cost and allocation concerns. But the rough structure of the Hampton Program had at least been delineated to give a Juvenile Court Judge some guidelines in overseeing the administration of such 'preventative justice', as the advocates referred to it.

Neither Jacob nor the Angel went into much detail about other aspects, except to say that relevant information on the Nudie Juvie system would be posted in schools, parks, civic areas, and the court itself, as well as handouts to be given to kids at school and signed by parents once reviewed as a family, although that last one was still more of an intention than an action at present.

For Level Zero, though, a boy (or girl) could be made either nude or stripped to basic underwear. A parent or Angel (who were basically trained community volunteer assists in Hampton County) could do this without a court approval for up to 8 hours nude time or 12 hours in simple, revealing underwear. They could also do it sequentially, with eight hours of nudity followed by 12 hours of underwear. Angels in particular, were trained more to give warnings, but when necessary to dispense on the shorter side of time. The point was to improve behaviours more than spread general fear.

This could be done no more than twice a week (or once a week for the combo order) without court supervision, the idea being not only to protect the child from abuse, but that if a parent was really requiring more, then it was likely other intervention was required. A court, however, could assign 48 hours of nude time followed by 72 hours of underwear time (as a transition to trust, and a reminder to the offender that there was little separating him from further justice, if so required). The court was allowed to do this up to three times in a month.

Level Zero meant anyone, anyone, could look as much as they wanted, but no touching was allowed. Also, the offender could be made to play with himself by a parent, Angel, public official or administrator (including police and teachers), or custodian called a Minder [usually a sibling, neighbor, or friend who agrees to take responsibility for the care, direction, and sometimes punishment, of the offender]; but he/she could not be required to masturbate to completion (orgasm), except by a parent in his/her presence, up to two times per day. If, however, in the process of playing with himself an offender does reach an orgasm, he must yell "I'm coming" just before orgasm is reached. If there is any ejaculate, the offender is responsible for cleaning it up, where appropriate.

There were other rules, both publicly posted and less common knowledge, like, for instance, the use of treatment enhancing drugs. A very large part of the success of this preventative justice treatment was the humiliation and embarrassment factor, and a large part of that, no pun intended, was the body's reaction to the process of treatment itself. One way to do this was to change any or all of three factors: erectile function, semen/sperm production, and libido (horniness). There was a pill to enhance each of the three, as well as some combination meds. As a Level Zero, Jacob could be ordered by the court to take an erectile pill for the two nudity days and three underwear days (he wasn't), but not the other two. A Level Two Nudie Juvie, though, could be ordered to take the erectile pill, guaranteed to make a boy more solidly erect than not during waking hours, AND the sperm/semen production pill, or some combination thereof.

"So Jacob," One girl slyly asked, for she actually already knew the rules, her dad being a barrister and all, "Do you have to answer all questions put to you?"

"Yes. . . . . ma'am" Poor Jacob blushed even further, still choking back a sob, but unable to keep one big tear from rolling out his eye and down his cheek.

"And do you have to be completely honest?"

"Yes, ma'am." Jacob's voice cracked answering this one, and everybody laughed.

"Then tell me, Jacob," the same girl, an eighth grader named Cynthia Carton, continued sweetly, "Do you play with yourself, down there?"

Jacob blushed further and looked over at the Angel, wondering if he really and truly did have to start divulging this information. The stern look on her face was enough to tell him he had no other choice. And he was also old enough to know that if he said 'no' then everyone would know he was lying. And the punishment for lying . . . . well . . . it was bad.

"Yes, ma'am," he answered weakly. Defeated, but still obviously able to blush to the point his entire face was infused with blood.

"Well, don't wait for her to have to ask how often," the Angel barked out, "Anticipate what your superiors want to know and answer them fully!"

"At least once a day." Jacob pitifully added.

"In a complete sentence, and stand up straight!"

Jacob stood up straight immediately, afraid that the order would be accompanied by another whack of the high-tech paddle. His total body wasn't the only thing standing up straight, either. During this brief exchange, his penis had begun to fill further until it was now stretched to it's almost five inch limit. It was now that Ben for the first time actually looked to take in what his best friend had in the way of equipment.

He was long for his age, but even still just over an inch smaller than Ben used to be, and nowhere near as thick as Ben used to be. Of course, Jacob now had his best friend beat in both categories, this fact causing Ben to blush, as well. And his balls hung lower, though they always had hung lower than Ben's and were now also just a bit bigger. The other difference was the nice, small compact bush of young, black pubic hairs.

Jacob repeated himself in a complete sentence:

"I . . . . jerk off . . . . at least once every day," came a very labored effort to be honest and upfront, no pun intended, about so intensely personal matters while completely naked in front of classmates. Ben was feeling deeply sorrowful for his best friend. He wasn't one of the kids laughing. Then Jacob closed his eyes briefly and took a deep breath (he looked as though he might pass out), "And lots of days I jerk off twice, sometimes three times."

His voice practically went out at the last part turning the excited fake-cheers around him into laughs.

Cynthia just smiled, "Well you and my little brother, Kyle, have a lot in common, then. We can hear him squeaking his bedsprings every night, and most mornings."

"I do NOT!" Kyle yelled out, but it didn't stop the laughing or the pointing from the crowd. The 7th grader was hot under the collar, but he couldn't fight this crowd. "Stupid Bitch," he muttered.

"What was that, young boy??" Barked out the Angel, looking menacingly at young Kyle Carton.

"Nothing," he said, except that he said it with a slight sneer that suggested that he was both afraid of the Angel and felt obliged to simultaneously show contempt for her intrusion so that he could impress upon his classmates that he wasn't afraid of her. It didn't go over so well.

"Wipe that look off your face, or I'll use this paddle to put a different look on there."

Kyle took a half-step backward and the crowd let out a small cheer, as if any moment someone might start chanting 'fight, fight...'. They were looking for fresh blood.

"She started it!" Kyle burst out, again with a little bit of the sneer and pointing at his sister. "What if I started talking about you in public?"

"First of all, I didn't say anything bad about you, Kyle. Apparently every boy does it. And second of all, girls should have more privacy than boys."

"She's right there," The Angel said. "You boys primp and preen and then hide yourselves in fear that someone might see you. It's unhealthy. Little boys aren't meant to have that much modesty. It's immodest!"

"And you, Kyle, are definitely a little boy," Cynthia added.

"Fuck you," Kyle said and shot his sister the bird.

"All right, that's it!" The Angel exclaimed, "I'm serving you with a Warrant for Indecent Inexposure pursuant to obscene gesturing and the use of profane language."

"What??" Kyle looked at the lady as if she just rattled off everything in Latin.

"It means, little boy, get everything off down to your skivvies."

"Hey! You can make me do that!"

"This mandate says I can," The lady said, waiving a piece of paper at him. He had hit her particular pet peeves in a double whammy: using the finger and using the word bitch. Personally, she absolutely hated both. "As a trained and certified Angel Community Guardian, I am licensed by the School Board to assign punitive measures for certain specific grievances on school grounds or during school hours."

"I'm not on school grounds," Kyle defended himself, not entirely sure of what all she had just said, "And school hours aint even started yet."

She hated the word 'ain't', too. But that was just a more personal issue. It was the first two peeves that really needed addressing. "School hours include the time you leave your house for school until you arrive back home, or any time between the reasonable time that you SHOULD be leaving or arriving home, whichever is longer. And school grounds include any community property that serves as the school or an adjunct to the school, such as a bus stop. So I most certainly do have the authority. Now, down to your skivvies and when you get to school, you'll go to the principal's office so that he may call your parents."

"What?? What the hell are skivvies? And why should I do anything? I didn't do anything wrong!"

"According to school board policy Article 8 Subtext 2.9, the use of the word 'bitch' when directed in anger against any female constitutes hate speech and is part of the zero tolerance policy. Article 8 Subtext 1.3 regulates the use of any hand motion or gesture that may constitute a threat or an incitement to violence – that would cover the use of the middle finger in a heated exchange. For either offense, I may require you to observe decent exposure to your skivvies, which means your underwear, for a period of two hours, or until you arrive at school and can be cleared by the principal."

"You mean ---- NO! No way!!"

His sister, on the other hand just laughed and clapped her hands. "Yes!! You better get those pants off, Kyle!"

"Fuck you, Cynthia! And I ain't doin' shit for either of you!"

"I'm adding three instances of cursing to your case. They are more of misdemeanors, but they certainly will not help your case any. Now, off with your pants and shirt, or I'll make you a temporary Nudie for failure to follow protocol of behaviour adjustment."

"Behav—what?? Speak fucking English lady. And I'm not taking off my clothes for you, you pervert. That's sick!"

"All right, you had your chance. You're now a Temporary Assignment NUDEP case until further review by the Juvenile Court Judge. I guess you don't understand the concept of zero tolerance. You soon will. Off with those clothes."

"Make me . . . . Bitch." He knew as soon as he said it that he had just stepped into a mighty big pile of trouble, but the word was on the tip of his tongue, and his anger, his testosterone, and his precarious position as the center of attention, despite there being a completely naked boy at the bus stop, all pushed Kyle over the edge and made him feel like he just had to make a show of his bravado and his personal certainty of justified fortitude.

"All right," came the answer. It caused a frozen quiver of fear to go up Kyle's spine, and he suddenly felt very nauseous, though he dared not show it.

"Dispatch," the Angel said into a small two-way mobile she pulled from her hip. "This is Angel T-16, I have a 412 in progress and need assist at the corner of Dodger and Pickwick. . . . . . . . Roger that."

"What's a 412?" Cynthia asked.

"Indecent Inexposure against direct order by community authority. He'll have to see the judge, now."

During all this time, Jacob had been hoping, despite any reasonable measure of hope, that somehow all the attention would shift off of him and onto Kyle during the developing altercation. But no such luck. It only afforded a few of the other kids more uncontested access to his showing. More than a couple of the girls, and even a couple of the boys, used the distraction of Kyle to get very up close and personal with Jacob's 'offerings'.

"Boys and girls, I hope no one is touching little Jacob there. Remember he is a Level Zero and therefore exists for viewing purposes only." The Angel reminded them while she waited near to Kyle in their quiet stand-off. Kyle, meanwhile, was already showing signs of the first shivers of fear that were escaping his tight, but uncertain, control over his body's reaction to this unseemly challenge.

As for Jacob, at least three girls – he hoped it was girls – had stroked his naked butt and told him what a nice ass he had. Ordinarily, he would feel pumped up and cocky about this, but not when his actual cock was pumped up and on full display to the same girls (he hoped it was girls), as well as everyone else at his bus stop. He was so incredibly hard right now that he was already leaking.

"Hey look, guys, Jacob's a right pervert. He's already leaking on to the pavement!"

It was a boy that said this, but no matter on that as most of the other boys turned and pointed and laughed at poor Jacob.

Ben wished he could do something for his best friend, but he had no idea of anything he could do or say. He might only make things worse. As it was, he had unconsciously moved himself between the crowd and his own little brother, keeping Timmy more or less behind him. Fran, though, had another thought on her mind and came up and quietly accused Ben of it:

"This is why you suddenly started acting so nice! You didn't want to end up like Jacob! You knew already!"

"Honestly, I didn't, Fran. I didn't even know that they could do something like this."

The boy truly looked shocked, enough that Fran had to step back and reassess. "You're telling the truth."

She said it simply, but amazed. Then, she wondered to herself, what did cause this change all of a sudden?

"You know me, Fran," Ben admitted, "If it's just that I had known, I'd still be doing exactly what Kyle is doing."

"Yeah, you would be." she had to admit. "Actually, I kinda wish you were. I think something really bad is going to happen to him, and it looks like whatever it is, he'll end up naked just like Jacob. I wish it was you."

She said this so plainly, so simply, but with a fire in her eyes that unnerved Ben as much as the subject matter of her desire. Just the thought that it could be him in that predicament twisted his guts even further. The fact that it could be him in front of everyone with his newly denuded and shortened dick on display just made him feel all the worse. At that moment, though, his attention was diverted by the approach of a police car, which gave a very short blast of lights and siren as it pulled up to the curb.

Now Kyle looked like he was about to wet his pants. And Jacob didn't look a whole lot better. The fear in his eyes made Ben wonder just what did they do to his best friend?

The policeman got out of the cruiser and spoke briefly to the Angel. Kyle tried to quietly slink away, but a few of the other boys pushed him back, smiling because they wanted to see what would happen. It was always 'all in good fun' when it wasn't you. Kyle was about to bless out his friends, but he didn't have the time to react. No sooner did he have his mouth open than he found himself whipped around and forced over the hood of the police cruiser.

"Now, son, you ARE going downtown with me, and you ARE going in a proper state of undress. How easy or hard you make this is up to you. How many extra charges you get added on is also up to you. Now will you or will you not remove the offending articles of clothing, namely everything but your socks and shoes, on your own, or do you have to be forcibly stripped?"

"I didn't do anything!! Let me go!!"

"This Angel says otherwise, and we'll let the judge make the final decision as to whether or not you did anything. As for letting you go, that will not happen unless you agree to strip on your own without further argument."

"I'm not taking my clothes off! You can't do this to me!!"

"Oh, yes I can." And with that the policeman pulled out a pair of handcuffs, and cuffed Kyle's arms behind his back, using a strong arm of his own to keep the boy pressed against the hood. He then read Kyle his abbreviated rights as a child and said that he was being placed under temporary State custody until seen by the judge. He then pulled a pair of scissors from his belt and informed Kyle that by his refusal to follow a direct order of the Juvenile Act of Community Kouroi Example Discipline (it was a retired professor of ancient studies who wrote the actual NUDEP laws for Hampton County), the officer was authorized to remove such clothing by any means necessary, including the use of force.

He then proceeded to cut Kyle's shirt off.

"Kyle," his sister said in all sincerity. "That shirt was expensive, and brand new. Mom and Dad are going to be soooo pissed at you."

"You can't do this!!!" Kyle continued to shout, except that they were.

While the policeman held the boy down and continued to cut with the safety-designed fabric scissors, the Angel reached around the 12 year old's waist and unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, She then unceremoniously jerked both the jeans and underwear down together, revealing a pert, white boy's butt to all. The cheeks quivered and jostled a bit with the sudden movement, attracting the awed attention of everyone present. It was one thing to have an already naked boy brought into your presence, and quite another to see one exposed before your very eyes. Being naked and being stripped were two totally different humiliations, with the latter being much. Much worse.

As concerned as he was about his precious new shirt being cut up, the sound of scissors against the fabric being like a sword cleaving his adolescent soul, the sudden feeling of his pants and underwear being pulled down, the cool breeze on now naked cheeks, and the knowledge that every boy and girl in his extended neighborhood was watching, produced a sudden gasp and stillness in the now wide-eyed boy's body and soul. He had almost literally lost his breath with this.

Despite the fact he was suddenly no longer struggling, at least until this enormously major shock wore off, the angel put one hand against his left buttcheek, grasped a hold of its soft perfection (something, which in truth, she was very much enjoying) and used it as leverage to push his groin and body hard up against the police cruiser to minimize potential struggles and pulled shoes, and pants and underwear down and off one leg. She then grasped the other buttcheek to do the same to the other leg.

The action of this caused the natural part in those cheeks to spread further, revealing to practically every boy and girl there, their first visual of the deeper within of a boy's crack and the gated hole that controled exit (and entry as many would later discover) into the bowels within. Kyle's own hole, which at some level he was disturbingly aware was also on display, was cleaner and more flesh-toned than any of them would have thought. It was smooth and completely hairless in his crack, and down lower the boys and girls could see what defined Kyle as a boy, and specifically a boy in puberty.

His nutsack was pulled up, swollen with the balls of a boy already producing sperms; hairless, yet darkening and with the slight roughness that defined a maturing ballsack. Sure enough, when the officer and the Angel were done, they spun around the now-naked boy, renewed with fruitless struggles, to reveal all to the crowd of his schoolmates. He already had hair, small tufts just above his scrotum, but hair to be sure, and an erected 4 inch penis of average width, uncircumcised but with a helmeted head already halfway peeking out of the loose foreskin. Thanks to the manhandling and having his penis pressed up against the warm metal of the car, the boy was at full mast and pointing upward at about 30 degrees to his stomach.

He was also greatly sensitized along the whole of his demanding penis. It's like it came alive with a life of its own, totally disregarding its owners extreme embarrassment, and deciding to seek out a quick path to orgasmic delight, all while Kyle's mind was fearfully and frantically trying to will it back down.

"Not a bad length on this one," the Angel mused, looking down at Kyle's 'length', "and still has his 'skin'."

She reached down to pull the skin back for emphasis, and Kyle stiffened and let out a loud moan/gasp combo that simply could not be held back.

"Pretty sensitive, too, I see," she added, smiling at the torture she was putting the little brat through. "Nice to see that you at least keep it clean underneath, Did your mom or dad teach you to do that?"

"Yes, ma'am," the subdued and still shocked kid felt compelled to answer, despite the renewed struggles he had given them when he was first turned around and presented in his exposed glory to his friends. "My mom taught me."

A laugh went through the crowd at this, and Kyle blushed even further at the realization of what he had just admitted.

"Boys, girls," the Angel said, "Gather around and learn a little something about anatomy here."

She made Jacob come over and stand to Kyle's right and gave an impromptu discussion on circumcised (Jacob) versus uncircumcised (Kyle) and the onset of puberty and the differences in penis size. She added that both boys were at the larger end for their age, with Kyle at 4 inches and Jacob at nearly 5 inches.

"Hey, get Ben Scruggs and line him up!" Cole Nickles exclaimed, "He's always claiming he's got 6 inches to show, and he's Jacob's best friend. Whatever Jacob did, he probably did, too."

Both the officer and the Angel turned their attention toward Ben. He looked fairly innocent at the moment, protecting his little brother behind him.

"Is that true, young man?" the Angel asked, not calling him 'little boy' since at the moment he seemed very big brotherly.

"Jacob's my best friend." Ben affirmed. It seemed more of a diplomatic answer than saying 'yes'. That way he avoided his likely shared guilt, and avoided having to lie about it afterward. His slight non-answer wasn't lost on the Angel, but she let it go for the moment.

"Are these two your little brother and sister?"

"Yes, ma'am." He seemed polite enough.

"Is it true you were bragging about the size your penis being 6 inches?" It was difficult to tell from the looks of him. She doubted it personally, but . . . maybe.

Ben blushed deeply at being asked this by an older woman. Well, by anybody really. "Y-yes, ma'am. I do. Have . . . I mean." Ben knew very well that that was no longer true, but he had also been told that if he discovered and did the task that was required of him, then it would be true again. So if it used to be true, and would soon be true again, it didn't really hurt to temporarily assign a lie to truth, right?

He looked nervous to the Angel, but that emotion could be either because of guilt or due to the fear of being singled out by her. She knew that. He also seemed intent on protecting his own little brother . . . . . but if he really was this other boy's best friend . . . . .

Even so, she had no recourse to do anything to a currently well-behaved boy.

"You . . . . 'loud-mouth boy'," She called over to Cole, who even now tried to shrink back with a look of horror creeping over his face – except that he was propelled forward by the other boys behind him. "You seem so interested in everyone seeing a variation of penis size. There's not much to learn about going one size up, but I bet you can show us one size down."

Cole blushed. He may have been a half-inch taller than Kyle, maybe, and a couple months older, but he was indeed an inch shorter where it seemed to count at the moment.

"You mean . . ." his voice cracked and everyone laughed.

"Yes, stand on the other side of little Kyle there and let's see what's bigger, your mouth or your penis."

Cole's eyes widened in fear and surprise. No. This couldn't be . . .

"Front and center, boy!" The policeman barked.

"Uh . . . . do I have to?"

Technically he didn't, though the Angels and police were promised some leeway to enable a proper start of this program. However, now that he asked, they weren't allowed to say 'yes', or that he 'had to'. But they didn't have to say anything. Instead, the policeman just held up the shears and made a snip snip sound. Cole gulped. His mother really would kill him if he got his clothes cut up. He slowly forced himself over to where Jacob and Kyle were standing naked at double attention.

"All the way off?" he croaked hoarsely, wanting to cry. But he definitely couldn't do that.

"Just pull your shirt back over your head and pushed your pants and underwear down."

Cole did as he was told, and he pushed his pants and shorts down, hardly even showing a tan line as his creamy, smooth trim stomach flowed into a slightly whiter, but still creamy 'V' that funneled down into a hairless crotch. A small flaccid penis dangled above nuts that were hanging free, but the same color as the penis and surrounding flesh, with barely a hint of the wrinkling of adolescence.

"Excellent, a good way to round out our examples on the stages of puberty," the Angel said, further embarrassing Cole, as if that were even possible, by now giving vocal attention to what undoubtedly everyone else was already staring and giggling at. Fran walked closer to him, captivated by the revelation of his most personal assets, as she had long had a semi-crush on the cute, blond Cole. They had been 'somewhat' friends, never really talking much to each other, but always around, and always on good terms with each other, since Kindergarten. He even had a semi-crush on her. Just neither had ever done anything about it.

It just made it all the worst for him when she came closer to get a better look. She even blushed and smiled guiltily before looking down to the ground. When she looked back up, he had something of a look of fear, but then blushed further, himself, and looked away.

"As you can see, boys and girls, this is a great example of a 12 year old boy just really starting puberty proper. His balls are larger than a grade schooler and have begun to drop, indicating that he may now already, or may soon start producing sperm. Do you, boy, do you already shoot sperm?"

Cole looked at her agape with horror. Did she mean for him to really answer?? He just stared and shrugged slightly.

She sighed exasperated. "Does anything come out after you play with your penis?"

Cole gulped. To answer that, he would have to actually admit that he did play with his penis! He couldn't do that!! Not in front of all these kids! Not in front of girls! Girls in his class, no less! Not in front of Fran!! But he didn't feel he had much choice. He cast one quick shamed glance to Fran and then looked at the ground and croaked out a 'yes, a little' such that it sounded like he might cry if asked much more. The Angel knew her time playing with this one would be short.

"Well, is it clear or white."

"Mostly clear . . . ma'am."

She nodded her approval of his late addition of 'ma'am'. "Well, boy, since this was your idea to start with . . . . . go on then, get it hard so we can have ourselves a proper comparison."

Cole looked up stunned and wanted to shake his head no and beg silently for reprieve, but there would be none to be found here.

"Well, come on boy, we haven't all day."

It was like a painful slow motion seeing Cole reach forward and start to slowly make jerking motions across his small, flaccid dick, his balls wagging with the effort. Because of his abject terror, it took a while to produce any change; though eventually the friction on his penis began to make it rise, and once it did, it rose quickly to a very hard 3 inches.

Ben was happy that Cole was chosen and made to do this, but as he watched, he almost felt a shared pain with the boy and found it more and more difficult to appreciate the supposedly just desserts as the slow process continued. Fran, though was the complete opposite. She took great pleasure in seeing Cole's genitals and in watching him produce an erection, and the more he tried, the more interest she maintained. She, however, was most upset that Cole had been picked on and chosen by the Angel. By all rights, privileges, and any justice at all, it should have been Ben up there next to Jacob.

"Very good," the Angel exclaimed. "This was a most wonderful idea of yours, little boy. Now, boys and girls, you can see we have a 5 inch, a 4 inch, and a 3 inch model to show us nicely the smooth transition of puberty. Notice also as the testicles get larger from one boy to the next. And if you look under their arms here, you can see it goes from a small patch on this 8th grader, to a few hairs on this obnoxious 7th grader, to smooth as a baby's butt on this loud-mouth friend of his."

"Now," The Angel continued, "Does anyone else feel like they should be up here with these boys? . . . . . Anybody? . . . . No? OK, then you best behave yourselves. You, loud-mouth kid, what's your proper name?"

"Cole."

"Cole what?"

"Cole Nickles."

"No . . . I mean, how do you address adults?"

"Oh . . . uh . . . Cole Nickles, ma'am." There was a lift on the end of his sentence as though it were a question. But she nodded and continued.

"And so, are you the youngest of you three?"

"No ma'am. I'm two months older than Kyle."

"Interesting. Well, here comes your bus, Cole, you better get tucked away. Just remember what can happen when you start trying to mouth off and cause trouble."

"Yes, ma'am," he muttered, as he very quickly pulled his pants and underwear up first, indeed 'tucking' everything away and zipping up, and then pulling his shirt back down proper, hiding again those small, light-brown nipples and that cute little innie of a belly button he had.

"Children," The Angel called to them, hauling naked Jacob forward by his arm as their bus pulled up, "This boy will be on view like this until tomorrow late afternoon, and then only in some brief briefs after that for another three days. Get a very good luck and remember this is what happens to bullies! Now I need someone to take responsibility for him, which may include some spanking, until the principal relieves you of your duty."

Practically every hand in the group shot up, including a few elementary kids who obviously weren't thinking straight (and whose bus was late). Practically everyone, that is, except Ben and Cole. Cole had had enough, and Ben just couldn't do that to his friend, especially since he felt guilty as part of this probably stemmed from Jacob locking his little brother Sam out of the house naked yesterday. Ben had laughed all through that, too. But he couldn't do this to his best friend, no matter what his own change of heart.

Then he remembered Elias Marley's words. He would be given the chance to discover a task and complete it. It would probably be something related to his own bullying of his little brother; and it was told to him that it would be something he would hate, body and soul. This certainly would count. He had not the slightest interest in being near another boy's naked body, and it would bother his soul greatly to do this . . . but that must be it.

The Angel was still looking out over the group of boys and girls to pick one, when Ben just stepped forward.

""I'll do it. I'll take responsibility for him. He is my best friend."

"A noble gesture, boy, but precisely the reason you would not be appropriate. You would be most likely to let him slide."

"No! I won't. I can do this. Just tell me what I should and shouldn't do. I can do it. . . . . If I don't . . . . then I'll switch places! I can do this."

He had to. He had to do the task. The outcome otherwise was unthinkable.

"Fine, you can do it, but I will be extra strict on you boy. You had better not mess up, not so much as in the smallest detail."