In the Heat of the Night
By Running Bare
runningbare@anonymousspeech.com
Copyright 2018 by Running
Bare, all rights reserved
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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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* * * *
I
met Ann as a guest of one of her friends while attending a party at her home. Her
son unexpectedly wandered downstairs from his bedroom to sneak some bacon
wrapped cocktail wieners off the trays in her kitchen. When caught she felt
compelled to introduce him. My relationship with her took off from there.
In the Heat of the Night
By, Running Bare
I was immediately drawn to the beauty of the boy. He’d
been on this planet for eleven years and I would imagine for most of them drew
attention from many men and women. His mother was obviously as proud of his
body as those of us who’d just been introduced to him. I must admit, few boys
his age would be caught dead in what would be considered more of a girl’s “Daisy
Duke” shorts. I don’t know where his mother had come by them, but they reminded
me of the short-shorts that were so common back in the seventies. The athletic
shorts that tapered up each hip from a two-inch inseam. Thank God someone kept
some of those fashions available.
His long and shapely, well-tanned legs were the first
thing that caught the eye. I wanted to just reach out and rub my hands up and
down the contours feeling the smoothness on the outside and the underlying
firmness of the muscles beneath. As I tracked them visually up to the tease of
his butt cheeks peeking out below the hemline, I was drawn to question whether
or not the kid was going commando. I didn’t see the telltale elastic bands of
tighty-whities, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there. I was hoping not. I
was hoping the kid would sit or squat in such a position as to give me the same
kind of tease with his penis and testicles. Unfortunately, that didn’t happen
and I was left guessing as to the presence of any undergarments.
I’d met his mother at a singles’ bar. Though she
attracted my sexual attention, that night I definitely had a desire to see that
boy in his totality. I can’t explain it. Perhaps I’m bi? No, frankly as attracted
to the boy’s handsomeness as I was, I held no desire to sodomize or sexually
violate him in any way save, perhaps, some fondling to induce some eroticism on
his part. I wanted to get him hard as a board and expose him publicly to anyone
and everyone even more so if his reaction was embarrassment and humiliation. I
know others would have reveled in his boy beauty. Imagining forcing nudity on
the boy was the driver for my horniness. But how much more heated I could get
if I could just get a glimpse of his hidden body parts.
He was quick to relate to my friendly banter with him.
As I sat on his mother’s living room couch we conversed. Unfortunately, the boy
sat with his legs together in an easy chair closing out any opportunity to at
least catch a glimpse of what, if anything, lay beneath. Still those legs
attracted my attention even as I talked. It was hard to maintain eye contact
during our conversation.
My interest in his body must have motivated his mother
as well. After my commenting on what a good looking kid he was, she suggested
that Jack remove his shirt. Thankfully the boy objected and was timid about
having to expose more that he already was exposing. I say thankfully because
his hesitation to show more of his form just amplified the horniness I was
feeling. The challenge to get him as naked as possible added to my interest and
was responsible for the increase in my heart rate and breathing.
The boy’s mother dropped her pursuit of disrobing him
after his objection. She did complain, with him still present, that he was too
modest for a young boy informing me this had crept into his life two years
prior and seemed to be getting worse. She mentioned her brothers were never
that shy, but that might have been the time period when they grew up. Boys were
not permitted to be shy. She also mentioned, his father, a high-school flame
who’d gotten her pregnant during senior year, didn’t seem to be too modest. At
any rate neither her uncles nor her flame (whom she’d not seen or heard from in
over six years) would be of any help. Her mother, on the other hand, felt
Jack’s modesty was definitely a sign of problems to come if she couldn’t find
the key to unlock it.
All this information on my first visit to her home. Wow!
I could see the door opening to my helping solve the problem and I was all too
willing to do it.
As I was admiring the deeply tanned face of this Greek
god, I was struck by how his ice blue eyes offset the frame of short cropped
black hair and firmly structured jaw line, he shifted his position drawing one
of his legs upward and tucked it comfortably under his backside. I struggled to
catch a glimpse up the leg opening of those skimpy shorts as he did so. I was
desperate for peek at either a glans, ball sack or even the white of his
briefs. Really, though, we all know which of those things I would find most
preferential, don’t we? Unfortunately, what I finally got turned out to be the
latter. Disappointing, but not a total loss.
Ann asked if he had any homework due the following
Monday suggesting then would be a good time to do it and leave the adults alone.
This adult was enamored by the kid’s presence, but he got the gist of his
mother’s message. After he left, she rocked my world by expressing a concern
over her son’s increased sensitivity to being naked. She correctly felt that
boys shouldn’t be so modest. In the hope that I would be asked to help her
change her son’s behavior, I agreed that boys his age should be made to be
naked and forced into exposing themselves to others, especially if they were
that body shy.
In the way of support, I offered, “After all there
will be plenty of time after puberty to build in some modesty. But, at his age
he should be comfortable being nude in front of anybody, and, not being so, is understandably
concerning.”
She asked for recommendations as to how to overcome
the problem. With that, all I could think was “I’m in!” What came out of my
mouth was, “Well, just force him strip naked whenever you think it is
appropriate. You’re his mother. Don’t ask. Make him do it.”
She responded with a doubtful look. “I’m not up to
that battle.”
Ann revealed later that she and one of her girlfriends
were planning a weekend away to a tourist town in the mountains. She asked me
if I would sit for Jack during her absence. Not one to avoid protecting myself
from accusations, I suggested that I might use the time to “loosen up the boy’s
modesty” as well. She was very thankful and open to it. I told her it might get
a bit “messy” if I had to be forceful. It was then she mistook what I was saying
for meaning discipline issues. She told me I could use whatever corrective
measures I felt were appropriate including a belt. Not to allow the misunderstanding
stand solely on discipline, I mentioned that I planned to work on his body
shyness and the forced nudity thing might get a bit messy, but I’d try to approach
it slowly. I did tell her I was appreciative of her trust in discipline matters
as well, though.
With some interest, she inquired as to my plans for
the modesty issue. I told her there would be a portion of time the boy would be
force to be naked. Without being too detailed I mentioned my plans would
probably also included some massage sessions while he was nude. I explained if
she wanted to see some change in the boy’s attitude these things would almost
be a requirement. Then for the sake of denial of my own drives, I ended the
descriptions with, “Unless you’d rather I not help you with changing his
attitude about his body.” Thankfully, she immediately responded that she could
use all the help she could get.
I showed up that Thursday night to assume the
caretaker responsibilities for Jack. He was clothed in longer shorts than he
was wearing that first night. You can imagine my disappointment. I even suggested
to Ann that the shorter shorts were probably a better everyday idea. As much of
his beautiful skin surface as possible should be on display if she ever wanted
him to become more comfortable being exposed. She did mention that he was a bit
out of sorts that other day that he had to wear the skimpier pair, but “so
what?”
Like most eleven-year-olds,
Jack was a bit upset when I suggested it was time for him to turn in that first
night. Maybe it was the way I did it, rather than the fact he had to hit the
hay earlier than he wanted to. Anyway, it was past mid-night and the zombie
movie we’d rented was over. I just asked him to get his clothes off in the
living room so I could take them to the laundry. He didn’t like the idea. Even
though I told him he could keep his underwear on I just needed the outer
garments. “I mean, you do sleep in your underwear like most every other boy,
don’t you?” Hesitantly he stripped to his briefs. Lucky me, I at least could
get a general idea of what those briefs were hiding by the intriguing bulge
that was revealed when he pushed his shorts down and off.
Being skillful at acting
disinterested that he was naked save for those underpants made it a bit easier
for him, I believe. Even so the kid seemed mildly embarrassed. I playfully patted
his cotton clad backside and sent him off to bed.
As I sat in front of the
television watching the telemarketers telling me if I sent $19.95 today they’d
double my offer for just a modest handling charge, my mind wandered to how I
was going to see that boy’s penis and ball sack. I was driven to make that
happen right off the bat. After all, time was limited and I wanted to
capitalize on every hour of it. One objective kept popping into my head. How
was I going to get some good cellphone footage of him sleeping nude? Images I
had every intention of texting to his mother immediately and later posting on
the internet to share this beautiful creature’s body with the entire world. As
my creative planning mulled through my head, I felt myself getting horny and
hard at the same time. The kid had been down for thirty minutes. Could he
possibly be off in la-la-land far enough to stay that way should I attempt
removing his underwear?
I went up to his bedroom door. A simple enough
obstacle to get past by simply opening it. If he wasn’t asleep, I could
innocently act as though I was checking to make sure he was alright and return
it to the closed position. I turned the knob, opened it four or five inches,
and peeked in. I could hear the slight snore of the slumbering boy. He
definitely was asleep, hopefully soundly. Leaving the door ajar, I returned to
the living room to retrieve my cellphone.
When I returned, I slowly pushed the door halfway
opened and entered his room. The kid was lying on his back with the cover sheet
draped between his legs and fanned to cover his chest. One of those attractive
appendages was straight and the other cocked slightly. I stood admiring the
sight for five minutes or so, half for the view and half to better ensure the
kid was completely out of it.
Approaching the bed, I pinched the sheet at his neck
level and began to slowly peel it downward. He momentarily interrupted his
snoring pattern which caused me to release it and wait some more until the
rhythm returned. When it did, I continued removing the cover. The damned sheet
kind of snagged as I got it to his knees. I pulled a bit more briskly risking
the possibility it might wake him up. All he did was adjust the bent leg a bit.
It was almost as if he was consciously assisting me in removing it. Frankly, I
was a bit put off by his leg movement and decided to err with caution. I
stopped and waited a few more minutes until I was sure he was really slumbering.
Having succeed in uncovering him so far, I was anxious
to get to the last barrier to full exposure—his white cotton briefs. Cautiously,
I pinched the elastic band just below his navel and lifted it away from his
skin. Still no movement on his part. The temptation was to impatiently shove my
right hand down the opening I’d created and feel the boy’s penis and scrotum,
but I resisted. I gently tugged the elastic in an attempt to pull the underwear
down, but no such luck. I wasn’t able to bare much more than an inch or two of
the pubis. I returned the underwear to its original position and decided to re-plan
my methods and regroup my attack. As I watched Jack’s undisturbed slumber, I
placed my right hand over his still covered package. I could feel the three-quarter
inch thick tube roll under the light pressure of my touch. Unfortunately, the
double thickness of the “Y” made discerning whether he was cut or still covered
impossible. A little more movement brought the distinct feel of his two marbles
to bear. These teaser feels cemented my desire to get the underwear off even
more. I slowly and carefully pinched the elastic on each side of at the crest
of his hip bones and again tried to drag the briefs downward. This time they
slid two or three inches down his hips and stopped right above the base of his
flaccid penis. They were pinned between the bedsheet and his still partially clad
backside.
As I plotted as to how to free the briefs from being caught
beneath him he broke his breathing rhythm and slid both legs back and forth. My
fear that his movement would nullify my progress and the elastic would return
to his waistline was thankfully not brought to bear. They stayed down and
somehow the back had slid down clearing two thirds of his backside. The back of
his briefs now matched the progress I’d made in front. Just seeing that
increased my heart rate. I was even more eager to get those underpants off the
kid.
As badly as I wanted to push forward and try to slide
them completely over and off his penis and bottom, I stopped to lessen the
chance that I’d awaken him and allowed him to drift back off to deep sleep. Luckily
the raspy sound of his breathing again took on a consistent pattern.
I pinched with the waistband on each side of his hips.
Again, I tried with minimal force to pull them down to expose his penis,
scrotum and entire backside. As I pulled something remarkable happened. He
actually lifted his ass off the bed almost as if it was a conscious assist. I
was so surprised as his penis was now fully exposed and the elastic had cleared
his ass, I stopped and wondered if he was still asleep or had awakened and
decided to allow me to strip him. My reasoning was, if he was aware of his
nakedness his penis would have been hard as a rock and it wasn’t. No, the kid
was still asleep. He had to be.
Before posing his penis and grabbing a few photos, I
decided to try to completely remove his Hanes drawers. That was a bit of a
problem as his right leg was still bent at the knee. Dare I try to straighten
it out? As I pondered, I visually examined the flaccid penis that draped the
loose ball sack. I wasn’t disappointed. The three and a half-inch tube was very
respectable. He was cut and the circumcision seemed to be clean leaving not the
slightest ring of left over foreskin behind the glans. No, this kid’s bulbous
head was well pronounced and his shaft connection to it was smooth. I really
wanted to feel it, but resisted. I had further work to do before chancing
waking him up.
I attempted to slowly and gently lift and straighten
the crooked leg so I could complete the removal of his underwear. Doing so
turned out to be non-problematic. I was able to remove his briefs and deposit
them under the cover sheet at the foot of the bed. My thinking was that when he
awoke and found himself nude, he’d find the underwear and assume he’d kicked
them off himself during the night.
The sleeping boy looked so angelic and being totally
naked so inviting I had to start recording the image. The flash from the
cellphone as I went about the task certainly ran the risk of waking him. Somehow,
it didn’t and after three such photos I became a bit more emboldened. Time to
move that beautiful penis to the side a bit and get some more shots and a close
up. I was completely surprised the phallus was so limp for my touch. I wanted
so badly to massage it until it was at full extension, but that would
definitely have awakened the kid. More photos and then I moved his legs to make
his pose just a bit more provocative. Enough damage for day one. My better
angels took over and I left him lying naked, uncovered, and returned to the
living room to run through the fifteen or so images I’d recorded in high def on
my cellphone.
During the review of those images, I reveled under my
breath at how absolutely beautiful the kid was. I also found myself vowing to
do everything I could to share his beauty with the entire world. I also plotted
various ways to share my work with his mother as a means to invite her to join
in that goal.
The following morning, Jack came to breakfast fully
dressed. He made no mention of waking up naked, just plopped down and asked for
a couple of waffles. I didn’t share what I knew either. All that kept running
through my head was “tonight you’ll ‘kick’ those pesky Hanes off again young
man and awaken to the wonderful world of nudity for the second day in a row”.
And, he did. I had become a little more skilled at the
removal the night before and the second night went much smoother. Thank God,
the kid slept on his back for the most part. Had he been a belly sleeper,
things might have been much more complicated.
There was an interesting glitch, if you want to call
it that. On night two, sometime during the Hanes removal, the kid popped a
boner. The elastic cleared his penis and “bam” his little hard-on literally
bounced into view stopping as it pointed slightly toward his navel.
A chain of thoughts occurred when that happened. Is he
awake? And, if he is, could it be he’s enjoying this? What would come of it if
he is? And, two, how in the hell do I keep from fondling such a beautiful boyhood?
I wanted to reach over and just play with that stiffy for hours. Only problem
was, if he isn’t already awake, he sure as hell would wake up if I engaged in
such an activity. Then, how would I explain that? I was totally frustrated. My
decision was to take some more photos of the now totally nude boy with his
penis at full mast. Out came the trusty cellphone.
Now, I don’t know if you’ve ever been in such a
position, but one telltale sign of the boy faking sleep is if when posing him
he tends to somewhat cooperate. You know, like while stripping him he raises
his ass or pubis off the mattress ever so slightly to accommodate the clothing
removal, or you want his body in a certain position he overreacts to your
physical prompting by giving slight but noticeable signs of assisting. It’d be
a dead give-away he’s awake and enjoying it. On the other hand, if he lazily
readjusts his body to bury the penis and scrotum between his body and the
mattress, it would be a bit more concerning.
Jack just cocked his right leg bending his knee which
offered me unbridled access to touch or photograph him in all his glory. I
couldn’t resist and eventually reached over and grabbed that stiffy. I had to
explore his shaft and penis head with my hands as well as my eyes. The firm
appendage felt like a wooden dowel rod covered in velvet. I wanted to massage
the hell out of it, but, again, was the kid awake or asleep? If he was awake, I
was caught anyway. If he was truly still out of it, I’d risk waking him and
chancing his reaction. I placed my opened hand on his young, loose ball sack
and could feel the two lumps it protected.
Again, my better angel encouraged me to cease those
activities. I threw his briefs in a wad under the top bed sheet, pulled it up
and covered the nude treasure. He didn’t respond.
The next morning, I decided to pursue the overriding
question. I mentioned that I was checking on him before I turned in and noticed
he was naked. I suggested it didn’t offend me if he wanted to sleep nude. No
mention was made that I stripped him or that I had a positively wonderful,
albeit too short, experience toying with his very attractive penis. But, I
watched his eyes as I spoke for any signal that he was completely aware it had
happened. He kind of snorted, looked down at his bowl of cereal and pensively kept
poking the flakes into the milk with the spoon. His blush laden response was to
be expected.
“Yeah, I keep waking up and my underpants are off. I
guess I must kick them off during the night.”
Guess it didn’t occur to him that kind of happening
was relatively new and curiously was only happening since I was sitting. Then
again, maybe it did.
I mentioned many boys and men feel better sleeping
nude and maybe he should just go to bed “commando”. It’d be okay with me and
I’m sure his mother wouldn’t have a problem with it.
“Okay by me?” Really? “Okay by me?” Hell, I’d love it.
We had two more nights together before his mother
returned and convincing him to sleep nude sure would help me accomplish some of
my goals. Not unexpectedly the boy pooh-poohed the idea stating he didn’t like
to be naked.
I decided to back off the conversation. Being too
pushy might destroy any lea-way I’d made so far. Still it did occur to me,
maybe he wasn’t awake last night. Who knows? Maybe the question would be
answered on night three.
I gave the kid an hour to drift off to dream land. As
I entered the room I was shocked to see the completely nude boy stretched out
on his bed. The Hanes were balled up on the floor off to the side of the bed. He
must truly have been asleep as his penis was flaccid and draped casually to the
side of his scrotum. It came to mind that penis was quite sizeable after all. From
my experience viewing photos of naked boys at ten or eleven, his boyhood was at
least longer than most boys his age. But I couldn’t help but reappraise the
amazingly clean cut the doctor had put on him at birth. That bulbous glans
pointed at me at eye level. I was looking right at the pee slit centered on the
bluish-pink head. I wanted to pinch it and watch the small hole wink, but I
didn’t. A quick retake of the boy’s situation affirmed he was truly asleep. No
doubt about it.
Early on in this narrative, I told you that I was
driven to fondle and didn’t seek any kind of sexual intrusion with boys. I am
driven by a need to touch and feel and get pleasure by forcing them to allow
others to see and explore their naked bodies in as public a place as possible,
but looking at this beautiful specimen I wanted so much to lick that soft
scrotum and suck that appendage into my mouth. I can’t say the drive wasn’t
there, but an overabundance of caution helped me overcome that drive. If I’d
have been caught in such an act and Ann found out it’d be a quick end to a
lucrative relationship. My better angels won that one.
I could not, did not, resist the drive to feel that
penis once again. For a good five minutes, it remained loose and floppy. Then
it started hardening. I watched as it unraveled itself to the point of standing
tall. This boy had to be awake. He had to be. But there were no other signs of
his awareness other than a hardening penis. I managed to record a video on my
phone of his penis as it slowly erected—as it “came alive”. Each time I watch
that video, I think about the damned tan lines that are clearly visible and
lament that his tan wasn’t even over the entire body. Oh well, if wishes were
horses, beggars would ride.
Asleep or not, I decided to be a bit more aggressive
in playing with his genitals. There was no hint of objection. In fact, he’d
restlessly open his legs wider definitely signaling a desire for my
interaction. He had to be awake. I was at the point that I didn’t care if he
was or not. It was my desire to make him happy so I dove in to handling his
package in earnest for fifteen or twenty minutes. I remember thinking, “Dare I
try to speak to him?” Doing so would communicate to him the ruse was over. I
knew he was awake and enjoying being played with so quit pretending. He didn’t
even move when I took a few minutes to take photos of him lying there with a
stiffy that wouldn’t quit. I didn’t speak until I was leaving the boy’s room. In
parting my remark was, “If you come down to breakfast naked in the morning,
I’ll rub you down there for as long as you want. But, you have to come down
naked.” I closed the door.
I know you’re wondering if he was awake. I kind of
suspected he was that night. The morning all but confirmed he was. He showed up
to breakfast in his briefs. Not naked as one would hope, but sufficiently
undressed to suggest he was a somewhat less than an eager participant. What
other explanation could I find for this kid who never had been so willingly exposed
in my presence than he was testing the waters. I ignored his state of undress
and fixed breakfast as if his attendance in his underwear was normal, but, no,
this was the first time it had happened.
Being a Saturday morning, I could see no reason to
even remotely suggest he continue dressing. In fact, after he finished his
cereal, I was bold enough to suggest he might be more comfortable in his
underwear that morning (even if we were going somewhere—I thought it, but
didn’t say it). He kind of shrugged his shoulders as if to say, “maybe, maybe
not”. I felt my heart speed as I waited for the decision. He got up and drifted
off to the living room and turned on the television. I was in!
After cleaning up the dishes, I joined him on the
couch. After a few minutes of watching some show about sharks, I offered to rub
his legs if he’d put them across my lap. He complied. My hands massaged his
firm calf muscles. I thoroughly enjoyed the smoothness of his skin and small
blond leg hairs. As I continued I got bolder working my way up to the bottom of
his cotton clad backside. When I felt the time was right, my fingertips
violated the border of his elastic leg opening ever so slightly. He didn’t
flinch. On each successive pass, my fingers penetrated deeper and deeper. About
fifteen minutes of intrusive touches, I penetrated far enough to cup his tight
left butt cheek with no response. As I withdrew my hand I angled my touch to
enable me to drag the side down the length of his butt crack. Still no
objection.
Back to concentrating on his legs. I didn’t want him
to think my prime target was his backside. It was and it wasn’t. Back to
sliding under the cotton covering and massaging the smooth tight globes. “You
know if you took off your underpants, I could do your bottom easier.”
Surprisingly, still belly down, the kid wiggled them
down to just above his knees. I took it from there and pulled them off. I could
only imagine the stiffy that was buried in the couch cushion at that time. I
wanted it. I wanted to rub and play with that hard-on for the rest of the day. Thinking
it would definitely be risky to rush it, I continued to rub the back, bottom
and legs of the now nude boy. Spreading his legs to get better access to his
inner thighs, revealed the bottom of his scrotum and his rosebud. As I worked
his backside the devil took over and I was able to snag my finger tip in his little
boy hole. He turned to look at me when I did. His expression relayed a look of
acceptance of the move—an invitation to push deeper. Frankly, I went no further
than penetrating it more than an inch on successive touches.
“You want to rollover and I’ll get the front of your
body too.”
Holy shit! He did! What literally popped into view was
a stiff little flagpole resting above a retracted ball sack. I could see the
little wrinkles in the scrotal skin. It was tight for the first time since I’d
seen it. Of course, I didn’t go to his penis and scrotum first. I continued to
want to send the message it was no different than any other place on his body. As
with the backside, I worked his feet and shins, then move to his upper legs. Momentarily,
I moved over his genitals slowly and deliberately but not stopping until I
reached his pubis. Hopefully, he’d think I wasn’t really interested in feeling
his boyhood any more than the rest of his body.
My hand slowly rubbed his abdomen and chest. I
followed by playfully burying my index finger in his inny. He giggled and
looked down. Inches away was the shapely little glans topping his stiff pole. I
took the liberty to grasping his penis covering all except the tip within my
grasp. He looked back at the television as though it didn’t matter. Within the
next half hour, I was concentrating on his boy package with my touch. I took a
chance after concentrating on his penis and scrotum and asked if he wanted me
to “do” some other area of his body or if he wanted me to keep “doing his boy
parts”. He astounded me with, “Keep rubbing me there.”
Who was I to complain? I did wonder how Ann would take
all this when she found out about it. When I’d described what I had intended
for the boy, I purposely told her of the possibility I’d be massaging him while
he was naked, but definitely didn’t mention including his genital area in the
process. I let her assume that was a given. At least I now had an element of
denial. “Jack told me to concentrate on his penis and scrotum. I suggested I
should move on to something else. He insisted I rub his boy parts instead.” Yeah,
kind of lame, isn’t it? I mean that excuse could easily be countered with, “Who
was the adult?” Then again, I could strengthen my defense by telling her she
was the one who wanted him to be less guarded about being naked. Rubbing his
genital area definitely would count toward reaching that goal.
After an hour or so, I decided to stop the massage,
and, just to act non-concerned, tell him his time was up and maybe we’d do it
again later in the day.
Then I decided to add some humiliation to the mix. “Jack,
would you like to see some of the pictures I took of you to send to your
mother?” He sat up, still naked, and scooted his bare hip against my me. He was
obviously becoming more comfortable with his nakedness, at least around me. I
paged through the many images of him sleeping naked as the day he was born. The
earlier ones with a limp penis draping his beautiful little ball sack, later
ones with his penis hard as a rock. He responded to the limp pictures with a
question as to when I took those. Proof positive he was asleep those first
nights. He didn’t respond the same way to those of him erect, suggesting he was
aware of those.
At any rate, he did blush as he pensively asked, “You
mean you sent those to my Mom?” I nodded in the affirmative. He blushed even
further, “You really did? Why?”
“Because she wanted to see you naked, too. She’s proud
of your body and you should be, too. She doesn’t like it when you won’t let her
see you naked or show you to other people. Now she can just pull out her
cellphone and show everyone what your boy parts look like down there and you
can’t stop her.”
The kid’s face turned redder. “She shows those to
other people?”
“I’m sure she will. I certainly hope so. You’re a
handsome boy. Everyone should see how handsome your body is too, not just your
face.”
“What if I don’t want her to show those to other
people?”
“Guess it’s too late now. I’m sure she has already
shown other people and I’m sure when she gets home she’ll show them to even
more people. In fact, I’m going to tell her to make you stay naked, just like
I’m going to do to you today, whenever she can.”
Just that little conversation, paired with my plan to
keep the kid naked all day, made my penis stiff as a board. So much so I needed
to give it some rest. While he was watching the television, I nonchalantly
adjusted myself so I could move up to the bathroom and “depressurize”. As I
rose, I grabbed the boy’s briefs and made a rather startling announcement. “You
won’t be needing these. I want you to spend the whole day naked.”
That drew an argument. His attention was diverted from
the great white sharks on TV to my remark. It was evident from his return
remark he wasn’t ready for that. He argued that someone might come to the house
and see him. I ruthlessly answered back, “I hope so! Your body is one in a
thousand, Jack. You should be proud of it. Besides boys your age shouldn’t be
so modest. I hope everyone gets to see it. Especially that beautiful penis of
yours!”
He demanded his underwear. When I said no, he told me
he’d just go and get some clothes from his room. I half-jokingly countered that
if he did that, I’d have to go up to his mother’s room and retrieve his
father’s old belt. Strip him naked again and whip the fire out of his bare ass.
The expression on my face and the sound of my voice must have been sufficient
for him to believe me. He was so frustrated he started to cry. I left him with
his head buried in a throw pillow. “You’d better be naked when I come back down
here!”
It didn’t take long to unload. Just the stimulation of
the cloth of my underwear as I pulled the down was almost sufficient to
complete the act. Shot after powerful shot entered the wad of toilet paper I
used to collect it. After wiping the tip of my own appendage, I flushed the
paper down the toilet and rearranged my clothing. After what seemed like an
eternity, but was probably less than five minutes, I was able to “take the tent
down” and respectably present myself in the living room. The naked eleven-year-old
was still stretched out on the couch, head buried in the pillow, pouting. I sat
down on the unoccupied area of the couch and patted the bare bottom reassuring
him it wouldn’t be as bad as he thought. His response? “I telling Mom, when she
gets home. I’m telling her you made me stay naked the whole day.”
To say that pronouncement didn’t get my attention and
bring a little consternation to the situation would be a lie. All I could
recall was Ann’s complaint that her son’s body was beautiful, she wanted to
share it, but he was so modest it was impossible. I had brought a perfectly
good solution to the table. Make him stay naked! Hell, that wasn’t so novel. The
adults called the shots not the kid. Old-fashioned maybe, but it worked.
I suggested he grab his football and we could go out
in the backyard and toss it around. At first, he ignored the idea. When I
pressed the answer was perfectly expected. “I not going outside. I’m naked!”
Momentarily he raised his head from the pillow and added, “If you let me put
some shorts on, I’ll go out.”
“No, you’re going to be naked out there. How about
this, you go out naked and throw the ball for a while and do whatever else I
ask of you, and tomorrow you’ll only have to be naked half a day instead of a
full day?” He made no response. “Jack you’re going out there naked by hook or
by crook, but you are going outside naked. Get over it!”
The time in the yard was nothing but full of total
guardedness on Jack’s part. I’ll bet he asked to go in every five minutes. Rather
than following the airborne football he kept looking toward the houses on
either side of theirs. He was on edge worrying about neighbors coming out and
being treated to the sight of his very stiff penis. I could only hope. He could
only worry.
Two houses down from Ann’s a little girl who was in
Jack’s class at school resided with her mother (similar story—single mother no
father in the picture). Wouldn’t it be great for her to stumble on the sight? Even
better for her and some of her ten and eleven-year-old girlfriends catch it? Unfortunately,
it didn’t happen. Oh well, there’s always tomorrow. Maybe we’ll mow the lawn. Him
totally nude and me clothed. It’d be a great “gift” for his mother to return to
a manicured yard. But even more importantly, it’d give the honey down the
street ample opportunity to discover her classmate in the altogether. All I
could do was set the stage and hope.
After coming back in the house, I had a brainstorm and
toyed with the idea that perhaps my naked charge would be a good companion for
my friend John Richardson’s shy neighbor boy, Joey. If you don’t know who I’m talking
about, you might read John’s contribution to this site under this reporter’s
listings in “The Kids Next Door”. Introducing my exceptionally attractive
eleven-year-old charge might help loosen his similar in age neighbor’s
reluctance to public nudity. At the very least, Jack would be exposed to
complete strangers with no place to hide. Yeah, I could justify it with Ann. I
just thought it might be helpful for her son to be forced to skinny dip with
other boys. It’d definitely fly. I’d keep it in mind for future play dates. Ann
could even take him over there and meet the family. Both mothers shared a
similar concern, and, according to John, both were on board with forced nudity
being providing a viable solution.
I didn’t want Jack’s depiction of what was going on to
be Ann’s only version. I felt that if I could state my case before she returned
that at least I’d stand a better chance at wiggling out of any of Jack’s
accusations. After the boy was bedded down, I called Ann. She ran nonstop
describing the things that she’d been doing and how relaxing her time away with
her friends had been. Then I got to talk a bit about Jack’s situation. I
explained the boy appeared to be sleeping nude on that first night and that I’d
suggested, if he liked sleeping naked, he should go ahead. Thus, the photos I’d
sent her of her slumbering naked son and those of him during our outside
activities. (Sure wish the little girl down the street had had the opportunity
to see and interact with her nude classmate, but she didn’t. Perhaps when Ann
returned we could schedule a play date.)
I spoke of the massage techniques I’d used to help him
accept his genitals as just another part of his body and how I’d decided to
force him to stay naked the entire day. Then I paused. The silence was a bit
deafening. Then an obviously choked up response, “I don’t know how to thank you
for that. I was so concerned about his body shyness. Oh, keep doing whatever
you’re doing.” Her response was kind of expected. Even so, in many respects I’d
been taken off the leash.
“Well, all I ask is that you commit to forcing him to
be nude after you come home. No more worrying about his feelings. You need to
promise you’ll make him present himself naked in front of others and you need
to commit to giving him massages daily or you’ll lose the progress we’ve made
so far.” The most I could get was she was open to discussing it when she
returned home. She was still hesitant at putting down the objections he might
voice. That was good enough for me. I was off the hook for anything Jack might
paint as a transgression.
(End of File)