And So It Began

And So It Began: The First Few Months of My Therapy

By Running Bare

* * * * *
This story is intended for adults only. It contains depictions of forced nudity, spanking, and sexual activity of preteen and young teen children for the purpose of punishment. None of the behaviors in this story should be attempted in real life, as that would be harmful and/or illegal. If you are not of legal age in your community to read or view such material, please leave now.

* * * * *

I distinctly remember it was raining and I was sitting on the couch watching television. My little sister and two brothers were sitting on the floor watching the same. Wearing nothing more than a pair of flimsy pajama bottom pants, I was somewhat embarrassed. The thought of someone from outside the family coming in and seeing me with this lack of clothing made me a little self-conscious. After all, it had taken me months to get used to being so scantily clad in front of family members especially my sister Karen.

Somehow I was endowed with some physical features that others really found attractive. Not the least of these was my legs. I don’t know why, but many female observers (mostly friends of my Mom’s) often commented on how smooth and “shapely” my legs were. It bothered me to the extent I’d often complain especially about the “shapely” part. Mom insisted it was a compliment to the muscular shape of them. I could only think it was a comparison to the panty hose commercials on TV. Men, I mean boys, weren’t supposed to have “shapely” legs. At any rate, because of these “compliments”, I didn’t wear shorts even in the height of summer. I refused to leave myself open to these off hand comments.

Mom would often try to diplomatically get me into short pants telling me how much more comfortable I would be. For the most part, the diplomacy didn’t work and I would stay clad in jeans and long pants year long. At age ten, that was about to change.

I was referred to some other doctor by Dr. Miller, our family doctor. I now know this was at the request of my parents. Anyway, the new one, Dr. Cheryl as she wanted to be called, didn’t have a white coat. She wore street clothes, which to some extent alleviated a lot of my fear. Much to my relief, there weren’t any examination tables in her office. She didn’t ask me to strip. And, unlike my visit to Dr. Miller, my mother or father didn’t come into the room with me. This young blond physician would just talk about my preoccupation with defending my body against those who might see it. “Do you feel your body is less attractive than other little boys?” My response was a simple “No.”

And so it went. She challenged me to wear shorts to the sessions. I was hesitant, but my mother and father insisted I do what she wanted. My mother cut off some of my jeans that were beginning to show signs of wear and made me wear them to appointments with Dr. Cheryl. At first they were cut to a length just above the top of my knee. As time went on, they got shorter. I became aware of the receding hem line when they were four of five inches shorter than they were when we started. I guess it was a plot to desensitize me, and to some degree it was working.

On my third to last visit, Dr. Cheryl asked me to “stand up and take off my shirt.” Being a boy who was raised to do as I was told by adults I complied, but not without a whole lot of discomfort. The hard part wasn’t being so exposed in front of a doctor, but being so exposed in front of a rather recent female acquaintance. But, like I said, she was an adult.

To put things in perspective, I was the kid who had a hard time stripping down in the locker room at school and the YMCA, and that was in front of other boys. I really envied my age mates who didn’t hesitate to walk around with their dicks exposed to all. As I recall there were some who should have been a little more hesitant. Anyway, when I was in the gang showers at school or the Y, I would find ways to nonchalantly cover my boyhood. I’d soap up facing the wall of the shower and after finishing I’d dry myself making sure the towel draped in such a way as to cover my sensitive parts.

Though I was sensitive to being seen even by my male friends and even my brothers, I couldn’t really understand why. My penis was a bit longer than most kids my age, but the head was cleanly exposed just as theirs were. Circumcision was prevalent for most all of my fellow youth. So the only difference could have been the length of my phallus. I don’t remember any of them making remarks in the locker room or shower, but I do remember my closer friends playing with it.

From seven or eight up to my eleventh year, during sleep overs or time spent trapsing around in the woods, my friends would get me to strip naked by mutually doing so and, eventually, they’d get around to playing with my boyhood coaxing an erection. To this day, I don’t know why I was so shy about my public exposure, but would allow them to engage me in sex play. I guess it was their status as friends and the privacy of the settings where that would take place. At any rate, it was evident they were intrigued with the length of my penis. They often would ask why I didn’t wear shorts. They all did. And, that would also embarrass me.

I remember, my friend Eddy, almost always suggesting we play naked. We’d be in the woods and he’d make the suggestion and for some reason I’d comply. Eventually, he’d increase the feeling of arousal by games of challenge which led to one or the other increasing the likelihood of getting caught naked. One of his most memorable challenges to me during a sleep over in his backyard was to “walk slowly to the road and back and let anyone who drives by see your dick”, or “Go out to the road naked and stand under the street light for a count of three hundred. If a car comes by, put your hands behind your head and wiggle it around for them.” I must admit the feelings were mixed during such challenges. There was a mix of bravery and naughtiness and that always helped to maintain an extra stiff hard on. We never considered that his mother might be awake and watching the whole ordeal from a window. But if she was, she never said anything. Often he’d challenge me lay naked on the outside of the sleeping bag as he stroked my penis and ball sack.

Now, here I was in a shrink’s office being asked to remove my shirt. After doing so Dr. Cheryl had me remove my shoes and socks. I must admit I was beginning to wonder where in the hell all this was leading. After baring my chest and feet, I was told to sit down. With relief, I did so. The session was held with me wearing only my now very short cutoffs. And so, it went. For the next four of five sessions I was stripped to my shorts for the entire hour. On one occasion, the doctor reached over and stroked my bare leg as she conversed. I must admit having her touch my legs made it almost impossible for me to concentrate on the conversation. On my fourth or fifth session she walked behind my chair and began massaging my bare shoulders. It felt good, but it was very difficult to pay attention to her questioning.

Right after the fifth session, the one where she rubbed my shoulders, my parents mandated that I was to only wear shorts, shoes and socks everywhere unless they told me to wear other attire. Yep, no shirt. I was very self conscious as I walked out of my bedroom half naked. It was notable that no one made any comments, and, as I remember it, no one even cast a second glance except my friend Eddy. He was quick to comment on the shorts. It was a brief remark, but definitely suggested his surprise that I was dressed more like the rest of the boys in the neighborhood. Eventually, I gained more acceptance of half of my body. My mother’s friends still made comments about my “gorgeous legs”, which again made me feel like I was being compared to females, but I grew to ignore it.

In the evening, Mom would rub my legs as we watched TV. Again, it felt good and I quickly lost my self-consciousness. Even to the extent I didn’t pull away when other ladies found ways to rub my legs while awkwardly trying to maintain the appearance they were unaware they were coping a feel.

After turning eleven, visits to Dr. Cheryl’s office became a little less frequent. I kind of liked her though, she wasn’t pushy, and, from the beginning, she never gave me the impression she thought I was abnormal about my modesty. I was now wearing just shorts to our sessions. I’d just park my shoes and socks at the door and my shirt on the other chair in her office. She would talk and at the same time either rub my legs or massage my shoulders. I was now at a level where I could concentrate even during these side activities. I was comfortable with her, until...

“I think we need for your to take off your shorts. Go on, take them off.”

“What?”

“Take your shorts off.”

Slowly I rose and did so. After all she was a doctor. Maybe she was going to give me a physical, but she was a female and that didn’t rest well with me. My cutoffs fell to the floor. I remember the thud the belt buckle made as it hit the throw rug covering the hardwood. Speaking of hardwood... Yep, I felt my little buddy straightening out.

“Put them over there with your shirt.” I did so.

She motioned for me to sit in the chair and the session began. There I sat with a notable tenting in my cotton briefs.

“No, no, keep your legs spread apart,” she directed. “We want to watch what your little friend there is doing.”

Now that was embarrassing. She made it completely clear she was watching my penile behavior. It was near impossible to prevent my legs from wiggling. Speaking of that, about thirty minutes into the session I had to take a leak.

“Dr. Cheryl, I need to go to the bathroom.”

“Oh, sure, go ahead. You know where it is, right outside in the waiting room.”

I started to put on my shorts.

“Oh no, just go in your underwear. Go on now.”

This was just as challenging as Eddy’s dares. Though, with Eddy, I was totally nude, with her I was going into a public space with nothing more than a pair of cotton briefs adorning my body in broad daylight. Hopefully, my mother was the only one in the room. Anyway, I slowly opened the door, and, sure enough, Mom was the only one out there beside the receptionist. I quickly scooted across the room toward the unisex bathroom.

“Gotta go to the bathroom,” I mentioned to my smiling mother as I passed.

I do remember, before flushing, hearing my mother and receptionist talking.

“He is a good looking boy,” the receptionist noted.

“Thank you. It’s been a real trial, but Dr. Cheryl seems to have done the impossible.”

“Oh we’re almost there, Mrs. Davis. She’ll have him down to nothing very soon. I’m sure. She’s very good with boys who have the modesty problem.”

I wanted to flush, but I wanted just as much to listen to what was going on. The plotting, as I saw it, was about me. I was interested in what was being planned by these three women.

“Well, his Dad and I have been very pleased so far. You know we make him wear only his shorts pretty much all the time now. He wouldn’t even think of wearing them until she got him to that point.”

“She only has one more piece to go,” the receptionist noted.

What the hell is the “one piece to go” remark? Are they working a puzzle or something?

“I know and we will do our part when that piece is taken care of.” Mom reassured her.

I decided time was getting a little long. I’d already passed the usual boy taking a pee limit so I flushed. Somewhat confused about what was going on, I scooted through the waiting room in my underwear and went back into the doctor’s inner sanctum.

After that visit, my mother and father ordered me to wear only my underwear or my shorty pajama bottoms while I was in the house. To make matters worse, no longer was I allowed to wear underwear beneath the pajama bottoms. I was to, as my father referred to it, free ball when I wore them. As a result, occasionally my pecker would show its bald head sticking through the fly. Not to worry, one of my siblings would invariably laugh and point bringing it to my attention. As I pushed it back and pulled at the cotton fabric to cover it, all in attendance would giggle, including Mom and/or Dad. My father would almost always say, “Better put that worm back in the hole or a bird might get a hold of it.” This, of course, would further embarrass me and increase the volume of the giggling.

Two months after having to peel down to my scivies, on my bi-weekly visit to Dr. Cheryl she required the unimaginable. “You need to remove the underwear too, today.”

We’d become very familiar with each other over the year. But, not that familiar.

“You mean, I have to be naked?” I could feel my face flush.

“Yes, naked.” She was so calm about it.

“I, I...”

“Just take them off Kenny. You’ll be fine.”

“But...”

“Just pretend I’m your friend Eddy.”

How in the hell did she know about Eddy? And, just what did she know about him? Dumb founded I repeated his name in question form, “Eddy?”

“Yes, you know your friend. The one who you run around naked with.”

How did she know about that? At any rate, I wasn’t about to acknowledge it and give it any credence. I just stood there embarrassed.

“Just take your underpants off and come over here so we can get into our session.”

I slid them off and draped them over my shorts on the chair. As I did so, Dr. Cheryl offered, “You have a nice little tight butt there Kenny.”

That did it. I clutched my erect penis and attempted to cover it and my tight ball sack with my hands. I turned around to face the therapist. She gestured toward the chair. I walked to the chair still covering my package.

“Just a minute,” she held up her hand. I stood there wondering what was coming and she returned with a towel. She threw the towel over the chair and gestured for me to sit down. I did so, still covering.

“I need for you to keep your legs spread while you sit. I still need to watch your little friend there.”

She never asked me to move my hands. She just went on with the session. She did bend forward and rubbed my legs as we talked, but she made no moves toward my still hand clenched erection or ball sack.

“I’d say you made a big step today, huh. Having to be naked in front of this ‘girl doctor’. I’m really impressed with your bravery.” Where was she going with this?

When the session ended, I was still clutching my penis and shielding it from her view.

“Okay you can get dressed now.”

I quickly slid my underwear on while I faced the wall of her office. That was followed by my shorts. She accompanied me to the waiting room where she held my bare shoulders and told my mother, “We’re in the final stages. It won’t be long. I’ll be in touch about changing the home program either next week or after our next session Anyway, I will talk with you soon.”

I remember the conversation in the car on the way home, “So what did you and Dr. Cheryl do today?”

“Nothing.” I kind of suspected she knew full well what happened, but I wasn’t sure.

“Nothing? That was a lot of time doing nothing. You were in there for an hour. What’d you talk about?”

“Mom, we didn’t talk about anything. It was the same old thing.”

“Well, did she make you do the session in your underwear again?”

“No.”

“She didn’t! Did she let you keep your shorts on?”

“NO! Just drop it Mom.”

“I want to know what you did that’s all. I’m interested in you and how things are going with Dr. Cheryl.”

I got the sense she wasn’t going to shut up. She was going to keep on questioning until I gave her all the particulars.

“Okay, I had to be naked today. She made me sit there naked.” My tone was definitely angry highlighting my frustration.

“She did?” She feigned surprise. “Did she touch you?”

“What’s that mean? Yeah, she rubbed my legs and chest and back. Just like she always does.”

“Did she rub anything else?” She was asking in an innocent non-accusing voice. But I knew where she was headed.

“No. She didn’t touch anything else.” I replied with a whole lot of sarcasm. “Isn’t it wrong for an adult to make a kid strip naked? I mean isn’t that abuse or something?” I tried to make her questioning stop by framing the whole thing into another conversation.

“No, Kenneth, she’s a doctor and what she’s doing is for our own good. Your father and I are very pleased with the progress we’ve seen in you since you started with Dr. Cheryl. She’s very good and whatever she touches or does, we’ll support.”

The next two weeks went on as normal. Except, when I was home, my parents started to make me go outside in my underwear or pajama bottoms. When we had company, I was no longer allowed to don my cutoffs. I had to stay one clothing item from nudity. Most of the kids didn’t take much notice of my condition of dress, but the adults did. Mom’s friends especially took note and continually cast long gawking glances my way. Mrs. Filmore made me sit in her lap while she stroked my bare legs. I felt like a three year old, but if I didn’t comply, I’d get the belt from Mom as soon as the company left.

Mrs. Filmore was a rather stout mother of three—two girls and a boy. Her kids were six to ten years of age. The boy was eight and could often be seen outside the house naked as the day he was born. It got so the neighbors would pretend to complain about the boy’s naked forays, but you could tell the complaints were false and they secretly hoped it would continue. Anyway, as she stroked my legs her hands would continually bump my genital area. She was even so brash as to run her fingers around the elastic leg closures of my briefs. I could feel her fingernails as they brushed my scrotum on the way by. All the while my penis was rock hard and tenting the front of my briefs. I knew she was fully aware of what she was doing. Being brazen enough to do it in front of Mom, her kids, my siblings and even other adult company was enough to convince me fondling young boys was acceptable behavior—at least in my case. But, all of this was to be confirmed on my next visit to Dr. Cheryl.

I entered the office and dropped my shorts after kicking off my shoes. I put them in the chair by the door. “Don’t forget underpants come off too.”

I had secretly hoped we’d moved past that after the last visit two weeks ago. I slid the briefs off facing the wall. Again, I turned clutching my boy parts. Dr. Cheryl motioned toward my chair which was already shielded by a clean towel. I sat down. I shivered trying to act like I was cold, she ignored that.

“Today, I want you to move your hands to the arms of the chair. Let your penis do what it wants. I’d like to watch it.”

I just sat there still clutching. I acted like I either didn’t hear of didn’t understand the new rule.

“Kenny, put your hands on the arms of the chair.”

I did. Mr. Penis was being very bad and stiffly reached for the ceiling.

“Don’t worry Kenny. Your penis is being perfectly normal. Being hard is a normal reaction. Kenny, what do you think about your boy parts?”

She paused.

“Do you think your penis or your testicles are different from other boys’?”

“Yeah.”

“Well how do your think they’re different?”

“It’s longer than my friends’.”

With that she reached over and gently pinched the glans between her thumb and forefinger pulling it to a more perpendicular position. “Well, it is long for a boy your age, but you know it looks exactly like other boys I’ve examined. Is it longer than Eddy’s?”

“Yeah. His is more normal size.”

“What’s normal size?”

“I don’t know. Maybe this big,” I put the sole of my hand about halfway down my erection.

“Does his get hard like this?”

“Yeah”

“Well then it works. So you both are the same. Do you think there are many adults who haven’t seen naked little boys?”

“No.”

“Then why are you so worried about people seeing your naked body? Has anyone made fun of your legs since we made you wear shorts?”

“No.”

She then began rubbing my erection and my scrotum as we talked. Like when she started with my legs, I immediately found myself unable to concentrate. I do remember thinking how confusing it was that some folks felt what she was doing was a bad thing, while it felt so good. After awhile I just succumbed to having my boyhood handled by this lady who I’d grown to trust. Frankly after the initial fifteen minutes I found myself spreading my legs even wider apart to allow her better access.

“I think we’re at a point in the process where I’m going to cut our meeting to once a month. Why don’t you get dressed and I’ll visit with your mother in the other office.”

The next thing I remembered was being in the car and Mom saying, “When we get home you need to strip naked. I want you to stay that way for a little while.”

“Mooooommmmmm.”

“No Dr. Cheryl said you were naked for the session today. She wants us to make you stay naked at home for awhile. You know just to help you...adjust.”

“Do I have to naked in front of everyone?”

“Yes. It won’t be so bad. You’ll see. Remember when we started? You wouldn’t even let people see your legs, much less feel them. Look how far you’ve come. Now, you let your therapist play with your boy parts.”

My mind immediately went to images of Mrs. Filmore playing with my skin flute. It was scary, but what’s a boy to do?

I was snapped back from that thought by my mother’s remark, “I’ll tell you what, just take off your clothes now and throw them in the back seat. No time like the present.”

“Mooooooommmmmm, come on I don’t want to.”

“I’m not asking. Take off the shoes, socks, shorts and underwear and put them in the back seat. I want you naked right now.”

Frightened of the consequences for not doing as I was told, I began to disrobe such as it was. I knew she wouldn’t hesitate to take one of Dad’s belts to my bare ass and for sure I’d get another when Dad got home. The physical pain was much more to be feared than the embarrassment. Besides, I’d have to be naked after the whipping anyway so what choice did I have.

There I sat totally naked in the front seat of the car. Then I was ordered to spread my legs and keep my hands away from my boy parts. I again complied. My erect penis was sticking out and up at the same time and the very thought of being erect in front of my mother was more troublesome than the nudity itself. I couldn’t help but stare at my penis hoping it would subside. It didn’t. Mom must have noticed my embarrassment.

“You know that’s what penises do when boys are feeling vulnerable. What I mean, Kenny, is it is normal for your little friend there to be hard as a rock. Don’t worry though, as you get used to being naked it’ll learn to behave. Here let me rub it for you.”

While we rode she stroked my hardened stick without taking her eyes off the road. It really wasn’t as strange to have a parent doing that than it was when Dr. Cheryl did it. Guess you expect that your mother and father have been there before just not when you are eleven.

“You know I’ll see to it your sister and her friends do this for you too.”

“I don’t want them to. What do you mean? I have to be naked in front of Karen and her friends?”

I flushed and began to cry. The very thought of being naked for all to see was more than my over modest personality could handle.

“You’ll get used to it and so will they. I imagine all the kids will be somewhat curious over the next couple of weeks and it will be kind of difficult for you when they start touching you down there. Just remember they’re just curious. Your father and I won’t let them do something that we feel will hurt you.”

Still crying I tried desperately to change the inevitable, “You mean everyone gets to touch me there?”

“Well, yes, it’s the best way for you to accept your body. You know we were very concerned over your insistence on not even exposing those smooth little legs of yours. No one expected that we’d be seeing you in the all together. You know you are a beautiful kid? I mean your whole body is much better than average and you have a smile that lights up a room. So, why not smile and just accept the naked time?”

“Did Dr. Cheryl say to do this?”

“She did. She wants you to accept your beautiful body. She wants you to see how many other folks really think it’s beautiful too. We can do that by letting folks look and touch. You know what they’re going to want to touch too, don’t you?”

I could feel the tears rolling down my cheeks. “My penis.”

“Yes that and those beautiful little globes down there. I’m sure your backside will be interesting to some as well.”

“Please don’t make me do this. Please, Mom,” I was begging and sobbing at the same time.

“Oh, stop the crying. It’ll probably be over with in late August. Dr. Cheryl hopes we get it fixed before you get some hair down there, but we’ll see. Oh, I just happened to think, you’ll probably make Mrs. Filmore’s day. Don’t you think? I mean she’ll definitely have a death grip on that penis of yours.” She chuckled as she obviously envisioned the event. “I do know that there will be many photos taken over the next few months. You’ll be a celebrity.”

“This is against the law. I know it is. The teachers said no one could touch us down there. It was abuse. I’ll tell the police and everyone will go to jail.” I was angry through my tears and lashed out with the threat.

“Oh, Honey, it’s only against the law when it isn’t a part of a therapy program. Dr. Cheryl wrote this plan on a prescription and signed it. No one can do anything about it. Go ahead and call the cops. They can’t do a thing to anyone, unless they hurt your body physically, except, of course, should you need your bottom lit up for some reason. That’s covered too. Guess you just have to go with the flow here. I don’t want to put salt in the wound, but with Dr. Cheryl’s prescription, your father or I can parade you down Main Street downtown and no one can do a thing about it. Most wouldn’t anyway. I think most people will enjoy the view. So much so, they’ll probably have their phone cameras going wild.”

“Let’s stop talking about it, okay. I hate you guys. You aren’t good parents. Good parents wouldn’t do this to their kids.” I tried to hurt her sensibilities.

“Sorry you feel that way. Good parents wouldn’t let their boys grow up so shy about their bodies either.”

The rest of the ride home was rather silent. I didn’t want to talk. It wouldn’t have done any good anyway. Guess Mom said her piece too. She didn’t say anything else either. She even relinquished her hold on my penis and ball sack and returned her hand to the wheel. I remember projecting what was going to happen to me at the hands of the general public. Tears continued to fill my eyes. I think my mother was thinking about the same things, but she was pleased with the situation. She wasn’t the least bit embarrassed or apprehensive. That was the difference.

Just before we turned down our street I tried one last sarcastic comment. “I guess you’re happy.”

“Oh, I sure am. I love seeing you naked. I haven’t seen that penis of yours in at least two years. I love seeing my kids’ bodies. They’re my art work. I love having my art on display especially when I’m proud of how it turned out. Hey, and with an even tan your naked little form will be even more enhanced.”

I saw and opening. “If you guys wanted to see my penis and stuff, I’ll strip for you whenever you want. You don’t have to keep me naked in front of everybody. Really, I’ll take my clothes off your you or Dad anytime you ask.”

“Kenny, it’s not just about us seeing you naked. You are a boy and boys shouldn’t be so modest. Look, you wouldn’t even strip in the locker rooms where all the little boys run around nude. Not you, you were too embarrassed.”

“I striped in the locker room. I did, Mom. The coach made us all take showers.”

“Kenny, the coach called to tell us about your body shyness. He said you would hide your genitals and rush to shower and then rush to get dressed hiding your penis with your hands. He said the other boys used to joke about it. And, Miss Mitchell at the Y said you never swim and are just as guarded about your body at the Y.”

“She’s a girl and she gets to come into the boys’ locker room. That isn’t right.”

“She’s in-charge of the pool and she is an adult who needs to keep order. Do the other boys complain about her being in the locker room?”

“Why do boys have to swim naked at the Y? The girls don’t.”

“How do you know?”

“Mom, I go to school with girls. We talk. They get to wear bathing suits in the pool. So do adults.”

“Well, Kenny, unfortunately you aren’t either. That’s what I mean. Little boys shouldn’t be so modest. And, we’re fixing ours.”

About that time we were pulling into our driveway. Mom took the keys out of the ignition and said, “Now let me give you some advice. When you go in there, if you don’t make a big deal about being naked neither will you sister or brothers. Just walk in like it’s the new normal. And, for God’s sake dry up those tears. You look pathetic.”

I felt pathetic. I tried to take her advice, but regaining normal composure was next to impossible. There was nothing normal about my situation so how could I act normal? Whatever “normal” meant.

As we entered the house, my ten year old sister was first to ask the obvious, “Why is Kenny naked?” I wouldn’t say she had a smile, but she was definitely amused. I stood there cupping my erection and ball sack as my brothers immediately joined the scene. Teddy my eight year old brother was actually blushing. It was almost like he sensed that might be the new look for the boys in the family. Billy the seven year old couldn’t have been less interested. He just looked up from his Legos and then went back to building.

“Children your brother will be naked almost all the time from now on. His doctor thinks if he stays naked it will make him better.”

Teddy’s turn to ask the obvious, “What’s wrong with him?”

“Oh, nothing. He’s just learning to feel better about himself. And, you and your friends can help.” I was wondering where that was going to lead, but so was Karen, my sister.

“What do you want us to do?”

“We want you to treat him just like you would if he wasn’t naked, but with one exception. It would be nice if you would rub his peepee and little sack there occasionally. You know just feel it and rub it. You can have your friends help too.” Oh shit, she just opened a door that traumatized me. “You can pull it or rub it, rub his legs, whatever. You can even feel inside his bottom. Anything you want to do as long as you don’t hurt him.”

“I don’t want to feel in his butt hole, yuk,” Billy muttered without even looking up.

“Kenny put your hands down so your brothers and sister can see your penis. You aren’t to cover up ever! Got it?”

I moved my hands away slowly as my penis sprung sticking out almost parallel to the floor. With that Teddy had to bring attention to the scene, “Look he’s got a woody!”

My mother and my sister grinned almost giggling at his remark. Billy looked at my penis and then quietly returned to his project.

“The doctor thinks the more often he has a ‘woody’ as you put it Teddy, the better off he will be. That’s why he needs you and your friends to touch it as often as you want to. In fact, Kenny, we all would like you to show us how to rub it.”

I feigned ignorance, “Rub what?”

“Quit the games. Start rubbing you penis for us. You just stand there and rub it up and down so we can watch.”

“Moommmm, that’s nasty.” I was really put out by that command.

“It’s not nasty. I’m sure you do it all the time. You know at Eddy’s house. Or, does he get to rub it for you? “ How in the hell did she know. What does she know? “Rub your penis so we can watch. Oh, wait, I want to record you doing that so we can share it with Dr. Cheryl. Let me get the video cam.” She went and got the Panasonic and returned. Clicking it on she again said, “Rub your penis for us, Honey.”

Even Billy had stopped playing to watch this activity. With my sister and two brothers watching and my mother videoing the whole thing, I slowly stroked my hard-on. As if it wasn’t bad enough, my sister joined in the directives, “Rub the tip. The pink part, rub it.” I did as she asked. Why? I don’t know, I just did. As I rubbed the glans Billy cracked and began giggling. “No squeeze it so the hole opens up.” I remember thinking “How in the hell does she know about the hole in a boy’s penis?” I didn’t comply.

“You heard your sister, squeeze it so she can see the hole.” Mom muttered from behind the camera. I did. “Okay, Teddy, go over and rub Kenny’s peepee for him. Be sure to rub his balls too, okay.” That was the first time I heard my mother refer to them as balls, but my brother jumped up and willingly complied. His hands were smaller than mine, but he had quite a grip. Giggling he grabbed it in a choke hold and yanked it hard. I complained and everyone laughed. “Hey, Mom should I punch him in the balls?”

“What?”

“You know punch his nards? We do it to each other at school all the time. My teacher calls it ‘boy grab ass’.”

“Your teacher says, ‘ass’?” Karen asked.

“Mr. Klein is a guy. He can say that.” Teddy tried to defend his teacher.

“I think he’ll get in trouble if the principal hears him.” Karen retorted. Then after a brief pause, “Mom, when can I feel it?”

“Right now, Karen. Just go over and feel it.”

Karen moved toward me and Teddy relinquished his hold. When she got to me she slapped the penis making it swing violently left and right. After it settled back to center point straight at her, she pinched the glans hard. I complained and she just grinned. Then using her index finger she pressed into my scrotum. “Hey, there are balls in there, aren’t there?”

“What did you think was in those bags on your brothers?”

“I don’t know. I never felt them before. Now I get why they call them balls.”

“I guess I should have let you bathe Teddy and Billy so you could have explored a little bit more. You never felt your brothers’ parts?” Mom was perplexed at how that was possible. What made that hard to swallow is that, except for a very rare occasion, none of us ever even saw Karen naked. If we did it was purely by accident.

“Nope, just looked at them. I wanted to feel them, especially when they got stiff like this,” she continued to stroke the shaft up and down as she spoke, “but never thought I could. I thought you or Dad would get mad at me for doing it.”

“Well now you can make up for lost time, especially with your big brother. Tell you what, you can have the authority to tell Teddy or Billy to strip whenever you’d like. If they don’t tell me and we’ll strip ‘em and whip their bare asses for not doing what you told them. How’s that sound?”

“Not fine,” Billy shouted.

“You mean me too?” Teddy was flabbergasted.

“She’s your big sister. She should be able to pull rank every now and then. Look, it could be worse. You boys could have to stay naked all the time like Kenny. How would you like that? Remember, little boys shouldn’t have any modesty. Your brother is learning that a little late.”

“You mean I could have all three naked when my friends come over?” I could see Karen plotting.

“Well, I suppose you could. Or, you could take them to your friends’ houses and make them strip there. Whatever you want.”

“How long can I make them stay naked?”

“As long as you want.”

“And my friends and I can touch anything we want?”

“Sure, why all the questions?”

“I don’t know. It’s just so weird, but I like it and so will they.”

I can honestly say, I think it sunk in to Teddy at that point that he was in real trouble now and my situation wasn’t near as funny to him. Billy didn’t seem to be too put off by the new rules. Guess it was his age. But as for me, misery truly does love company.

“Can we make them do things to each other?” Karen was relentless. And, at the time, I truly didn’t absorb the impact of this question.

“I suppose you could. What are you going to make them do?”

“Oh, I don’t know, but say one of my friends wants them to suck on another one’s peepee. Let’s just say...”

“Well, you know boys their ages aren’t ‘shooting’ anything so I suppose that would be all right. Let’s ask your Dad about that one though.” Finally, a male perspective was being sought. Dad would never allow that to happen. I couldn’t wait until he got home and set some of the ground rules to keep Mom from going overboard. She, and now my sister were completely out of control.

(The End)