And So It Began 5

By Running Bare

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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.

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And So It Began Part 5

“Kenny, come in here please.” My mother beckoned. As I entered the room I was, as many a nervous boy does, unconsciously pinching my penis head, “I don’t like it when you play with yourself. It’s really not very nice.” I removed my hand and looked questioningly at her. My head of course was stuck on the thought that making me run around totally naked and allowing her friends and the neighborhood kids fondle me at will wasn’t very nice either. Luckily, I didn’t verbalize those thoughts.

“Honey, tomorrow we’re going to Hampton Beach for the day as a family. You, of course will not have the same benefits as your sister and brothers. You won’t get to wear a suit.”

“Mom, come on, there will be hundreds of people there. I can’t be naked at the beach. Pleassssseeee, pleassseeee…”

“You have to be naked at the beach. Dr. Cheryl was pretty insistent on us slowly exposing your body to the world. She is the one who wants us to get you more comfortable with your boy parts and stuff. Anyway, don’t go off in a panic. Your father and I discussed how we could make your first major public appearance as least traumatic as possible. Sooooo….” She reached behind her back and produced what looked like a white fishnet all balled up. “Here try this on.” As the ball of netting unfurled it became apparent it was a net t-shirt. Hesitantly I took it and was rather quick to pull it over my head. I fed my arms through the appropriate holes and the shirt fell loosely down my trunk. “Oh my, that covers you up somewhat doesn’t it?” Mom pulled at the hem. “Look Kenny, when you’re standing the hem comes to just below your scrotum, and, back here, it covers the upper half of your bottom. You’re really half nude now.” She chuckled at her own quip.

“Yeah, but you can see the tip of my thing right through the holes in it.” I argued hoping to get the opportunity to wear something a little more solid, and hopefully longer.

“Look boy, you have to show your parts. It’s all part of getting you to accept your body. Oh, look Mr. Penis is peeking his cute little pink head out just under the hemline. He’s so long he can’t help it, but he’s cute too. You know when he decides to stand up he’ll probably just push the shirt out of the way. Oh, it’ll be so cute at the beach.”

I wanted to argue but I felt to do so might cause her to change her mind about the shirt, and as limited as the coverage was I didn’t want to lose it.

“Can’t I wear my Nike t-shirt instead? It’s white too.”

“Kenny, first of all it’s way too long and second it wouldn’t show your beautiful body as well as this one does. Would you rather not wear anything?”

“No, I’ll wear this, if I really have to go.”

“You do. Like I said it’s a family outing. So you’re coming one way or another. You know, after a couple of times with the shirt, we can try nothing at all. It’ll be so exciting showing you off. Can’t you just hear the cell phone cameras now? I mean everyone will have a photo of my son in the buff on their phones. With a body like yours, they’d be fools not to.   I’ll bet the photos will go global.”

“Mom did you ever think they will be there for the rest of my life? I mean I have to be embarrassed forever.”

“Now, Kenny, when you grow up, no one will realize it’s you. Just calm down. In ten years, they’ll have pictures of an eleven year old boy. You’ll be a twenty one year old man. Nobody’s going to match the two up. See, there isn’t any reason for your modesty. Doesn’t matter anyway, tomorrow you go either with or without the shirt. I thought I was being considerate by getting it for you.”

Actually she was surprising me with the shirt. I’d have thought she’d have just made me walk around with nothing at all. Not that that shirt offered much coverage.

“Why don’t we take a walk around the block with the t-shirt on and see what happens? Come on, Honey, just you and me and whomever decides on a closer look. It’ll be a good test to see how much you’re covered.”

“Do I have to?” I asked dejectedly.

“Yes, we have to. Come on.” She coaxed as she put her arm over my shoulder. As we were about to leave she shouted to Karen, “Karen, watch your brothers. Kenny and I are going for a walk.”

“Okay, I will.” She shouted back. Then I heard her, “You guys take off your clothes.” My brothers were about to experience her sadistic schedule of activities, but I was with my mother. I don’t know which was worse Karen’s penchant for watching little boys suck each other or my mother’s penchant for showing off my dick.

As we walked I remember trying to adjust my gait so the shirt didn’t ride up too far. But alas my hardened appendage pushed the bottom hem of the t-shirt up and my glans and an inch or two of the shaft protruded in the front. I could feel the shirt as my penis swung left and right as I walked. As we turned the corner Mr. Bouchard was out mowing his lawn and looked up momentarily to wave. Then he did a half shocked retake and began to laugh and shake his head.

He shouted, “I love it! Kenny, every little boy should have to show off his little peter. It’ll make you a stronger person.” Mom stopped to chat with him. Mr. Bouchard shut the mower off and walked down to chat. Upon his approach, he reached down and fondled my rock solid penis. “Wow, he’s really hung isn’t he?”

My mother smiled and agreed. “Yes, he is. We’re working on getting him more comfortable with his body. The doctor said he needed to be naked in public places and we’re trying to ease him into it. Tomorrow we’re going to the beach and I thought being his first time and all the shirt might make it easier. Again he fingered my penis head and lifted the shirt.

“To tell the truth, it’ll slow down the gawking, but it sure doesn’t leave much up to the imagination.”

As he fingered my penis and cradled my ball sack, I couldn’t help but wonder why he was doing it. Not that it mattered because it was apparent my mother was completely unconcerned by it. In fact she reached down and lifted the shirt to above my navel to give him more opportunity to continue.

“You know, he’s always been a good looking boy. I couldn’t figure out why he was so shy about his body. It was pretty apparent the way he dressed in the summer was unusual. I mean how hot does a kid want to be? No shorts and always a shirt. No, people noticed his over modesty. Frankly, I don’t know why, Kenny, looking at what you’ve got you should be proud to show it off.”   He released my penis and said, “Well, I’ve got a lot of mowing to do. Hey, maybe some day next week you could send him over to do some weeding and garden work. I’ll pay him. Just send him say on Wednesday at eight or nine. Oh, and he won’t need to wear the shirt or anything else for that matter.”

My mother was quick to accept. “Oh, he’ll be here. If he gives you any problem whatsoever use the belt. You’ve got our permission. You make him mind.”

“He won’t be a problem, will you Kenny?”

What could I do? I shook my head, ‘no’.

“Well, keep a belt handy, anyway. You might be surprised.” She cautioned.

He smiled and said, “In the meantime, I have to recharge my camera batteries, unless you mind.”

Again Mom sided with Mr. Bouchard, “Take all you want and do whatever with them.”

As we were about to walk away she hollered to him, “Make sure you keep him covered with sunscreen, Tom. I don’t want him to burn.”

“I’ll do it. See you Wednesday, Kenny.”

The mower started and we continued our slow trek.

When Wednesday arrived, the beach ordeal had been three days behind me. I can recount that I was the only boy on that beach who was what at most was semi exposed. I’d be more inclined to say fully. Mom was right the cell phone cameras, and some actual cameras, were well exercised. Most of the people tried to photograph me on the sly, but they weren’t very good about hiding their activities. Some actually asked my parents to make me lift or even take of the shirt for some photos, which they did. I did reach the point that day where I cried from embarrassment on several occasions. I still couldn’t believe no one in authority told my parents that I had to cover or leave the beach. But no one did.

Anyway, I was now trying to get to Bouchard’s house without being seen by neighbors or passing motorists. It was a little difficult, but I think I was successful. There I stood on Mr. Bouchard’s front porch waiting for him to answer the door. I heard the sound of the traffic as it swished by on the street not forty feet to my rear. Finally Bouchard answered and invited me in. His house was decorated in old people style—oriental throw rugs and non matching antiques. In the living room stood a tripod with a rather expensive professional looking camera perched on it. “I’ve decided that rather than weeding, we’d play inside today. I’m going to take a lot of photos of you and I want to be clear, I want that penis in most of them.” I felt my face turning flushed as my mouth hung open. I wasn’t sure what all of that meant, but, hey, I’d been photographed a lot by the strangers at the beach. This was a bit different. The photographer knew who I was.

“Let’s start by letting me feel you little boy things awhile so they get nice and hard. After, I play, we’ll take some pictures. Then we’ll play some other things.”

Now I was becoming scared. What did “play some other things” mean? I heard a lot about kids being raped by men. The TV and some of the talks we had at school called them pedo… somethings and the horror stories dwarfed what I’d been through since this naked ordeal started.

“What do you mean?” I asked timidly as the man’s hand rubbed my stiff shaft.

“I mean, I’ve invited some other people over to pose with you. You’ll be naked and they won’t, but they will do things to you.”

“What kind of things?” I gulped as I asked.

“They’re just going to have some fun with your body.”

It was then that my eyes were drawn to the leather strap hanging from the legs of the tripod. Bouchard must have noticed my eyes looking that way.

“Oh, your mom told me to have a strap ready, just in case. It’s a pretty heavy one, don’t you think?”

I shook my head affirmatively as he rested it across the palm of his hand.

“You know after she insisted, I went out to the flea market to find the widest and heaviest they had. I decided, if a boy needs a good belting, it should be one that he remembers or else it doesn’t make sense to do it. I think this should do the job. Don’t you?”

I wasn’t sure how to respond to that. The thought that he was talking like using the damn thing was inevitable. I mean it seemed from the git-go that he was going to use it on me sometime before the day was done. It wasn’t a matter of if, but more a matter of when. Obviously the question was rhetorical as he didn’t wait for an answer.

“Now let’s get started.”

He posed me in many ways mostly in front of a white sheet. He said it was a good backdrop as it didn’t detract from my ‘beautiful form’ and made it much easier to cut and paste my image to other backgrounds.

If you lose that erection, I’m going to whip you with the belt so you better keep it hard until I tell you differently.

“But, how…”

“Oh, you know how. Play with it. That’ll make for good photos. Just keep it stiff until I tell you it doesn’t have to be or you’ll get welts on that pretty tanned bottom of yours.”

It turned out that wasn’t difficult. It didn’t loosen up at all during the ensuing two hours of various poses. What did change, though, were the guy’s props. He had me in various hats, holding umbrellas, and for one particular series I had to wear a cap gun belt with toy pistols, a police badge stuck to my bare chest with double stick tape and a mounty hat like the cops in Canada. The whole session the gun that was most notable was my stiff penis sticking out toward the camera. During that shoot he kept saying, “I wish I had some boots for you to wear”, but he didn’t.

At lunch he had me kneel in my chair and rest my ball sack and penis on the table edge while I ate. His eyes were rarely taken off my splayed genitalia. He served iced tea to drink. He put some of that sweetener in the little bags in my glass and told me to stir it with--you guessed it-- my erect penis. I remember him making me swirl it around in the glass until the sweetener had been completely dissolved. I have to confess, I kind of giggled as I was doing that and found it very amusing. I didn’t even think twice about drinking the tea afterwards. He too laughed as he took a series of photos and video taped the activity.

Bouchard brought out bread and a bowl of egg salad. He put a paper plate in front of me and instructed me to dip the egg salad from the bowl with my penis and use the same to spread it on the bread. Seeing no threat in doing so, I followed his instructions. He videoed and took still images of the entire activity. “Now Kenny, I will do some of the dishes.” He lifted me by my arms and stood me up. Then dropping to his knees he licked my egg salad covered penis with his tongue. That’s when I became a little concerned. I mean my sister had made my brother do this, but his was an older man licking my erection. Then he slid the whole thing in his mouth. “Just keep your hands on your head and your legs spread. I won’t hurt you.” Again he engulfed my erect penis in his mouth and I could feel the vacuum as he slowly pulled his lips down my shaft. Reaching the tip, his tongue tried to gain entry to my pee hole. Suddenly, a tingly sensation made me thrust my hips forward as my butt cheeks clinched and my bottom bucked forward. I rose to my tip toes. The feeling was really wonderful. So much so, I no longer worried about this man’s intentions. “You liked that, didn’t you?” He asked quietly.

I shrugged my shoulders in response. I knew what we were doing was wrong according to what I’d been taught, but it did feel good.

“I think that’s how I want to eat my lunch, no bread just lick off your little peepee. You eat and then I will.”

When I’d finished eating my sandwich, he made me lie down on the table. He put my body into the now familiar frog pose as I called it. Then he took a handful of egg salad and smeared it around my penis and ball sack. Sure enough he began licking and sucking it off. It was weird. He followed that by smearing it around my chest and made a line of it back down to my boy parts.   Then he licked all over my chest. He spent a long time licking my nipples. It made me uncomfortable. Then his tongue followed the line back down to my erection and ball sack. I don’t think I ever breathed as hard or tingled so much in my life.

Then he did the unthinkable. He went over my ball sack and licked my hole. I again became concerned. All I could think of was “this guy is a shit eater?” That made me uncomfortable inside, but on the outside I couldn’t bring myself to stopping him.

“You know what would make me feel good?”

Curious I responded, “No, what?”

“I’m really excited to find you doing something wrong, so I can whip the fire out of your ass.”

Fear immediately returned. I began plotting my exit. Surely, my parents would side with me, especially now that I was armed with his oral stimulation behavior to report to them. Even they would have to question what he was doing sucking an eleven year old dick.

“Sit down and finish your lunch.”

I did, but I did continue to plot my get away. He wasn’t going to beat me with that strap. No way!

“The other kids should be here soon. They’re going to really have fun exploring your boy parts.”

In an effort to free myself from the impending belting, I told him “My mom wants me home by one thirty. She says we have to go someplace.” It was a lie, but in this circumstance I was sure I could justify it.

“She said I could have you all day.”

“Well, she forgot we had to go. I forgot to tell you when I came. But, maybe I could come back tomorrow to do your weeds.”

He stopped and stared at me, “Are you being truthful?”

“Yes, Sir. She wants me home at one thirty.”

He started clearing the table. “What am I going to do when the girls get here?”

“What girls?”

“The girls from your class in school last year. I told them they could play with your boy parts if they came here this afternoon. Sandy Klein told all of the other girls about it and several were coming to see and feel one of their favorite ‘hunks’.”

“Guess they could do that tomorrow.” The very thought of Sandy and company seeing me naked was bad enough. She was coming to feel my thing as were several other girls from school. I’d never be able to go back to school again, if that happened. Now I knew I had to escape. I was not going to let a group of girls who knew me well see my naked body much less play with it.

I got home and my mother was fixing dinner. She immediately greeted me and asked, “How did it go at Mr. Bouchard’s”.

“Okay, I guess.” I was still convinced that what had happened was a part of the whole being naked scenario. That she was okay with his molestation.

“Well, how much did you make?”

“He gave me ten dollars. He wants me to go back tomorrow. Do I have to?”

“Well, I think if you are being paid you should. Don’t you?”

“Yeah, but I just don’t like it there. Please let me stay home.” My mind was on the fact that the girls would be coming to see and play the following day.

“We’ll talk about it when Dad gets home.”

At dinner the subject came up again. Mom began the discussion, “Kenny made ten dollars working for Mr. Bouchard today. He wants him to go back tomorrow.”

“Ten bucks huh? How long was he there?” Dad always the entrepreneur.

“I was there from nine in the morning until about two o’clock.”

“Well, it seems the pay is pretty light. I mean is he taking advantage of the kid?”

Mom jumped in, “Well, he’s an eleven year old boy, how much should he be paying him? He did feed him lunch.”

Dad got quasi defensive, “Well, I made more per hour back when I was eleven shoveling snow and mowing yards. I mean, he got what two dollars maybe two fifty an hour. It’s kind of light. Besides he had Kenny’s naked beauty to show off as well. I just think he’s taking advantage of the kid.” Then he turned toward me, “Unless you weren’t working.   You were getting the job done weren’t you?”

“He wouldn’t let me work in his yard. He took pictures of me and he felt my thing the whole time.”

“Okay he used you as a model for photos and only paid two fifty an hour. That almost makes it worse. I mean, how much should a professional model make?” He asked my mother. It was evident the subject matter, my naked body, wasn’t the issue it was the fact I was a model that gave value to the session.

“So he spent four hours taking pictures. What else did you do?”

“He sucked my penis and stuck his finger and his tongue in my butt.”

“HE DID WHAT?” I couldn’t understand why Dad was now angry.

“He sucked my thing. He put egg salad on me and licked it off.” I was beginning to put two and two together. It was okay for Bouchard to touch and take pictures but not to suck or lick my body.

“He licked you? In your bottom hole?” Mom was even getting more attentive.

“Yeah, he licked my chest and my thing and my balls. Then he put his tongue in my butt and licked it.”

Dad jumped back in, still very evidently angry, “Did he take his clothes off or show you his penis?”

“No. He just did what I told you.”

“You don’t have to go back there tomorrow.” Then turning his attention to Mom continued, “I don’t want him around that guy again. I know you think we need to help him overcome his shyness, but I think allowing some pervert to have carte blanch with him is a bit much. I’ll go over and talk with Mr. Bouchard after dinner.” Dad could hardly eat. I just didn’t understand why he had such a hard time with what went on. I thought he and mom were well on board with my predicament. To say I wasn’t glad I didn’t have to go back would be less than truthful, but it wasn’t because of what Mr. Bouchard did to me, it was because I didn’t want the girls from my school to see me naked, or worse, play with my boy parts.

(The End)