The Seductor 1

By Running Bare
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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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As a middle school physical education teacher, I was responsible for teaching all the sixth grade boys and half of the seventh grade boys. Among my duties were to supervise the locker room and showers when the kids were present. I liked the job as I really enjoyed seeing my charges in their most vulnerable situations. I also became the go-to authority for parents who were concerned over their sons’ modesty levels. These are among my most memorable cases.
 
 
The Seductor Part 1 – The Case of Bobby Turner Begins
By, Running Bare
 
I don’t know what it is that occurred in my first twenty-five years, but for some reason I developed an appreciation for seeing, photographing, and if given the chance, fondling naked young boys. I’m not drawn to all boys, only those with appealing faces atop a medium build and on the cusp of puberty—that window between nine and thirteen. It certainly gets my attention if their legs are somewhat meaty and athletically shaped. Shorts seasons are my favorite time of year, and, here at the school, gym classes are definitely a must see. Living in New Mexico there aren’t many non-shorts days during the year.
 
I have further preferences. I like ‘em cut. But even there, I have to refine my appeal to those with clean cuts revealing large well shaped mushroom heads.
 
One of the other things that draws my interest is kids’ behavior. I like the boys who have natural curiosity and have an impulsivity that gets them into mischievous situations. The kids with that glint of “I’m gonna do it anyway” in their eyes. These are also the challenging kids who don’t generally pay attention during my instruction.
 
Maybe the appeal comes from the fact that I do enjoy occasionally paddling their backsides for misbehavior. Sometimes, I think some of them, the ones I described, try to find the line between chastisement and paddling. They like to push the limits. Unlike the classroom teachers and principal, I have the opportunity to bypass school board rules and usually paddle them before or after showers so I can plaster their bare asses.
 
All of this “interest” subsides for me shortly after boys reach puberty. Somewhere I read a story entitled “When There’s Hair, No More Bare”, and I guess that summarizes my area of interest.
 
All of that is probably why I majored in physical education at college.
 
It was fortuitous to have landed my job here at the middle school. I am required by school rules to be present to monitor the sixth and half of the seventh grade boys as they dress out and shower before and after my classes. It’s required by the administration that I supervise the locker room when students are present.  Like I needed arm twisting.
 
I have to supervise the boys as they strip naked, don their jocks, and gym clothes. I was able to sell the other coach and the administration on the old fashioned very short cotton shorts and t-shirts, by mentioning they were much less expensive and our parents could afford them without strapping their family budgets. The result? The shorts with the two-inch inseams show the boys’ legs from ankle to butt cheeks. During many activities the legs of those shorts slide up exposing their straps too.
 
I know teachers aren’t supposed to have pets, but when you’re drawn to the kids like I am, it can’t be helped. It truly wouldn’t be difficult to make a list of the top twenty or so. One of the “challenges” for me is to observe which of them has difficult times changing and showering in front of their peers or me, and find ways to extend their naked times around the locker room. Unfortunately, the more mischievous boys aren’t usually very body shy. Now that would definitely be a combination that would get me salivating. The good looking, devil may care kid who was shy about exposing himself to others. Talk about arousing. They don’t come along that often. But there are a few each year who have all the qualifications.
 
Though I hardly feel myself a predator as I don’t really desire to have hard sexual relations with any kid, I do enjoy seeing them naked. I truly get my jollies from their embarrassment when they are fully exposed. I guess if you put my interest in light fondling and/or photographing them into the definition of “predator” I might be over the line, but I don’t think so. After all, my parents have photos of me nude from birth to age nine or ten--many frontal--as do other relatives and family friends, and even as I remember some summer camp counselors have some too. I’ll bet many of you have parents who have childhood photos of you naked as well.
 
I must admit, during preadolescence fondling was a kid activity. Not that adults didn’t do it to kids, it was just easier to disguise as a justifiable maintenance or hygiene necessity. Public or semi-public nudity on the other hand, had to be forced by adults in authority, and, when it was, I was not a willing participant.
 
Over the past three years, I can vividly recall the boys who had qualifications in each of my areas of interest—good looking smiles, mischievous twinkles, well-defined penises, average builds, well-developed legs, devil may care attitudes and a strong aversion to being naked in front of others. Of all the other teachers only two of those descriptors were unique for me to know about a boy—his penis qualities and his attitude toward being naked. Unless, of course, you were visiting my locker room. The other qualifications were opened to any interested party as the boys traversed the hallways.
 
If you consider “grooming” kids the official definition of predator, then I might fit the definition as well. But, what’s the difference between “grooming” and bribing a desired behavior? For example, putting up a backyard pool and making it a rule, as in old time more public pools and many family gatherings, boys have to swim naked. Let’s face it, forcing nudity is not rape and light fondling is not necessarily foreplay. In my mind, it all depends one’s end goal.
 
Fair analysis, my end goal is the sustained embarrassment of my target (“victim” seems too harsh a term), nothing more, nothing less. My game is finding ways to make it happen and forcing posed photo ops. The only “grooming” I do is to manipulate enticements and provide suggestive opportunities to achieve that goal. Enticements range from simple recommendations to threating spanking for non-compliance.
 
I guess the only grooming I do is selling the parents on the concept of the importance of loosening some kid’s modesty level through forced nudity. I’ve never had contact with any kid where the parents haven’t been fully apprised of my end goals and why it would be good for their boy. I have always provided parents with research from scientific, medical, and psychological journals to support my interaction as well. Hey, maybe that’s it, I provide a public service—free therapy for body shy boys.
 
Humor me. I prefer being described as a seductor rather than a predator. If we can agree to that, I can offer some vignettes of successfully targeted kids.
 
Take, for example, Robert “Bobby” Turner. He was one of the sixth-grade boys during my first year of teaching. What a good-looking kid. He was a lady killer. Most of the girls in his class held a crush on the boy.
 
I was in the office when Bobby’s mother enrolled him. Being drawn to the boy’s tanned and well-shaped legs showing below his above the knee shorts, I was smitten. We talked about what he’d need for P.E. classes—gym suit available for purchase in the school bookstore, a jock (embarrassed the kid and the mother both when I mentioned it), soap in a holder and a bath towel. Mom’s response? “Oh, they shower after class?”
 
My answer? “Yes, good hygiene is a part of the curriculum. Besides, in a year or two, for him, it’ll kill any unwanted aroma that might interrupt the concentration of other students.”
 
She seemed both amused and thankful. We both laughed, not Bobby, though. She turned her back to her son and whispered, “He’s a little shy about things like being naked in front of others.” I just nodded and said, “If it continues, I can help him get over it. You or his dad can call me if you want my help.” She seemed truly thankful and I wasn’t to hear from her for the first quarter of the year.
 
Bobby became a target for me. Yep, I looked forward to that third period on Tuesdays and Thursdays. For a couple of reasons.
 
First, the Tuesday and Thursday group came to classes for two-hour sessions. The kids who drew the Monday, Wednesday, Friday schedule were with me for an hour and a half and were then sent to a half hour study hall. Both would then resume their regularly scheduled hour-long class periods. The two-hour sessions allowed me to finish up early enough to extend locker room time and find reasons to keep the boys naked for an extra fifteen or twenty minutes.  Usually, after they had shed their gym clothing, I’d call an “Oh yeah, I almost forgot...” meeting and call them all together. Many would coyly drape their towels in front to hide their boyhoods from view, “Put your towels over the benches and sit down on them. We need to go over some things.” Thirty completely naked boys were seated on the benches while I went over what was usually insignificant bullshit delivered just to embarrass those who were overly modest.
 

With the sixth graders I’d often post myself at the entrance to the gang shower and do a quick “cleanliness inspection”. With my targets, I’d find some reason to send them back to the showers and watch them as they corrected the problem. “Now spend some time rubbing some lather on those boy parts.”
 
Mom didn’t lie, Bobby, was definitely a shy eleven-year-old. What she didn’t say was the kid was hung like a pony. His penis was definitely longer than the average sixth grader, and, notably, it was cleanly pared. The girth of his penis and his sack were beginning to show his growth spurt, but in my estimation, it’d be a year or two before body hair appeared.
 
He carried his towel in front of himself and would hang it on the hook outside the shower as he quickly jutted in, turned on the shower, and closely faced the wall as he lathered up. I didn’t complain, I got a prolonged view of his tight slender ass for a minute or two. I was drawn to the cute little dimples in each cheek. I’d also imagine how much better the view would be without the pesky old tan lines. As my eyes scanned his well-tanned legs I’d be taken by the shapely claves and attractive knees.
 
He’d rinse off, cup his appendage with his hand and quickly strut toward the hook to collect his towel.
 
On cleanliness inspection days, I got a close up of the kid’s four-inch flaccid penis as it loosely hung over his maturing ball sack. Compliments to the mohel/physician whoever he/she was. In my mind I could only imagine that puppy at full staff.
 
The seven or eight boys in the group of thirty-two sought to minimize their exposure time. For sure they were also on the radar of the more naked comfortable kids in their class. Some of them, Bobby included, were the brunt of verbal teasing by some of the more secure boys who openly flaunted their own packages. In Bobby’s case, they picked on his lengthier than average appendage, using the age old “Long Dong Silver” nickname.
 
The more brash kids would often grab ass by snapping their towels at some other kid’s ass, or, on occasion, target their penis and balls. Thankfully, the usual target for the non-verbal attacks were on less modest boys. The shy kids usually got what Bobby was getting, the verbal assault and an occasional grab and pull on their penises, or a brief game of keep away with one of the shy kid’s towels while other boys blocked access to their lockers. The latter game would often end with the humiliated kid crying. I’d act pissed at the bullies, but inside I loved the embarrassment they caused.
 
Close to the end of the first quarter Bobby’s parents asked for a conference. The kid was definitely muscular, had average coordination and was fulfilling the class requirements. He was on track for a solid B quarterly grade. They had to want to address his problem with his self-consciousness.
 
As with most after school parent conferences, I suggested we meet in my office. There was a disclaimer though, especially if a mother was involved. “We can meet in my office, other than being a glass cube in the middle of the locker room, it’s a bit quieter than the conference room. I’d tell them the only discomfort will be the ambiance of dirty sweat socks (the very mention of which usually provided comic relief and lightened the moment) or an occasional nude preteen changing or showering. To which the adult female(s) would inevitably mention they didn’t want to embarrass any of the boys being there while they needed privacy. I’d reply, “They won’t see you but you’ll see them. It’s one-way glass. But they’re still just kids and they don’t need privacy. You’re a mom, and Mr. Turner is a guy as well as a father, so there’s no problem.”
 
Whenever I met with parents in my office, which was almost always, I’d hope upon hope there were boys from some other class, or, in the case of after-hours meetings, some boys finishing up afterschool play in the gym showering, while we met. Each time, I purposely would position the female parents or teachers with direct visual access to the open shower area. Often parents in for a conference would be treated to naked students in the shower. Sometimes, I’d bang on the window and when the naked boy would turn around, I’d key the mike in my office and deliver some impromptu instructions over the locker room speakers. I’d tell them I had some parents in my office so I didn’t want to have to interrupt the discussion to come in there and paddle them. As intended, that would make even the least modest kid think about covering up.
 
Over the years I’ve found folks who offer concern about the boys’ privacy are a bit disingenuous. On subsequent visits, especially with parents who’d been given a show on their prior visit, I’d often be reassured with, “It’d be fine if we meet in your office”, before I even offered the option. What does that tell you?
 
It really wasn’t a surprise Bobby’s parents were concerned over the teasing he got in the locker room from some of the other boys. Empathetically, I offered two observations. First, few of the boys had such a difficult time with nudity as their son did. I reminded his mother that she’d warned me about it so I made it a point to watch the boy closely. Second, I would not tolerate any bullying in my classes or the locker room for any reason. Then I offered some suggestions aimed at both parents.
 
“I couldn’t help but notice Bobby is ‘gifted’ in the male department. That combined with his obvious body shyness probably was the window of opportunity for the bullying. In my mind, his ‘giftedness’ could easily become an asset rather than a liability, if he loses his inhibition about being naked.”
 
Dad sat silently but nodding his acceptance of my interpretation of Bobby’s behavior. Mom had a more perplexed look on her face. Momentarily, Dad said, “I told you making him wear something every minute he wasn’t in the tub would cause a problem. Didn’t I, Lucy? Hell, he thinks being naked any time he isn’t alone is immoral. Boys need to be told to stay naked sometimes. It’s good for them.”
 
I broke in. “Well, we aren’t here to assess blame. Let’s look at it more as a problem we have to address rather than assess blame. There are some things we can do to work on it, but they aren’t going to be easy. First, Mom, you’ve got to realize boys and girls have different developmental needs when it comes to exposing their bodies. More often than not, boys who are allowed, no encouraged, to be naked during their early years and develop modesty naturally don’t have this problem. When they are allowed to run naked when they’re younger, they are not as concerned about being seen naked by others when they’re older.
 
Unfortunately, our window to correct Bobby’s situation is almost closed. Puberty is just around corner for him, and if we don’t address the problem now it may have an unwanted effect on his sexual development.”
 
“What do you suggest?” I think she was truly felt some guilt from her husband’s remark and had a sincere desire to correct Bobby’s shyness.
 
“Nudity and lots of it. Find times for you or Dad, here, to walk in on him while he’s naked. Like the bathroom or his bedroom when he’s changing. Unfortunately, the Y has dropped what my Dad described as its long-enforced policy that required boys to swim naked with other boys. We can thank the change to coed for that. Sending him to the Y or Boys’ Club back then would have been a good way to end Bobby’s self-consciousness over time. Do you folks have a pool at home?”
 
“I wish!” the dad laughed
 
I hoped he had a sister for what I had in mind. “Does Bobby have any siblings?”
 
“He has a sister. She’s in high school.”
 
I pictured my suggestion in my mind, “Force him to expose himself in front of her as well. Wouldn’t hurt to expand his horizons.”
 
“Really? In front of Meagan?” Mom questioned.
 
“Yes, and Meagan’s friends too, if you want quicker results.” With that I felt a little perverted, but what the hell I was on a roll. “And, for that matter, when his friends come over, too! Grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins. The more the merrier!”
 
I think Mrs. Turner had mentally visualized that one. She grinned with a certain satisfaction that was peppered with doubt and question. Mr. Turner had to rub it in again, “If you’d been doing that years ago, he might have dodged this bullet.”
 
After shielding the mother from his assault for the second time, I went on to suggest a few ways to accomplish our goal. First, I suggested Bobby be encouraged to come to the gym after school for additional coaching or pick-up basketball.
 
I’d insist on him showering and find reasons to delay him from getting dressed. Then I offered to bring him home with me, occasionally, for weekends so I could work with him on his swimming. I made it known to his mother and father, that my goal would be for him to spend the entire two or three days naked. He’d find out my wife and I had a “young boys swim naked” rule when using our pool. Gradually, I’d add less modest boys to the mix so he could get used to being naked around other naked kids. Finally, I’d invite some of the girls from the school to drop by in required bathing attire to swim with naked Bobby.
 
Mrs. Turner was a bit hesitant. Mister seemed completely at ease with it.
 
As we talked three boys entered the shower. They were all sixth graders who’d been using the basketball courts. All three were naked as the day they were born and began showering. It interrupted our conversation momentarily as Mrs. Turner impulsively remarked, “Oh how cute!”
 
As both watched the little penises and bare asses of kids they didn’t know, I presented what I considered the touchiest intervention. If I was going to lose Mr. Turner, it’d be here. I suggested while Bobby was naked, one or both of them should massage his body from head to toe both front and back. As I explained the procedure, I tried to minimize the opposition. I stressed (but hoped they’d ignore me) when they started the process they should spend just minimal time on his penis and testicles. Just passing quick contacts as they tracked their hands over Bobby’s penis and scrotum. When dealing with his backside to be more attentive and aggressive. I told them that eventually they would add more contact time to his genital stimulation. I also warned them to be non-judgmental about his erections and assured them there’d be erections. Obviously, we wanted to do this before his prostate started doing it’s thing.
 
“I’m a bit uncomfortable about that last part.” Mister was ‘awakened’.
 
“I know it kind of flies in the face of social correctness, but if you want him to accept his boy parts, you have to show him you have accepted them. Matter-of-factly including his penis, scrotum and anal areas takes away a whole lot of the ‘specialness’ adults have historically assign those parts. The massage is meant to make him realize they’re just a part of the whole of his body. Obviously once the boy has gone through puberty, such attention will become difficult. So, times a wastin’, if you intend on addressing his problem. I’m doing all I can here at school. I often send him back to the showers after a quick visual scan of his naked body just to ‘take a proper shower’ but really it’s intended to extend his nudity.” I continued, “You know if being naked in front of the other boys is a problem because of the size of his boy parts, making him more comfortable with being naked will take away what apparently reinforces the other boys’ bullying. Kind of says, ‘Damned right! If you had what I have, you’d be proud of it, not embarrassed by it.”
 
Then I did something I’d either regret, or, if it worked out the way I anticipated, celebrate. I picked up the phone and invited the school psychologist to my office. It was a long shot that she’d be able to support our intervention. Actually, Julie was a grad student at my college and graduated with her master’s degree as I finished my bachelors. I was betting her relative newness to counseling might work in my favor. After all, if what I’d outlined was promoted by both of us the Turners would be more at ease.
 
After Julie arrived, I introduced her to the Turners. Her interest in my three little naked sixth graders was apparent before she even sat down. “Boy that little Timmy Summerville is literally all boy isn’t he?” That was a quick reference to the penis of one of the bathers who was less timid about exposing himself. We all watched as he soaped up his appendage no more than ten feet from the window.
 
As Julie renewed his interest in the boys, Mr. Turner questioned his wife, “Geeezzzzz, could you imagine Bobby that comfortable?”
 
I chuckled, “Relax that kid is completely oblivious to us being here.”
 
“I guess you’re right. If he really cared, he’d have checked to see who was in here first!” Mr. Turner was on track and I wasn’t going to complain. I did want to bang on the office window so the kid might suffer a little embarrassment when he found out he was being watched, but I controlled my impulse.
 
I went over Bobby’s problem with Julie. Mr. and Mrs. Turner embellished points as I outlined the situation and what I’d suggested. Actually, I had a bit of training with this in my undergrad studies of child development so I wasn’t totally ignorant of the psychology behind it. Julie agreed with me about forcing the nudity in gradual doses. Where she took pause was with the massage suggestion. After stumbling a bit, I offered my understanding of the parent-child attachment process and how the research coming out on child massage was very convincing. She of course had to challenge me on the fact that most of it was on kids who hadn’t reached their preteen years. But surprisingly she submitted that just because she knew of no studies with kids Bobby’s age it didn’t mean it was counter indicated. She ended her argument with, “If we go that way, if Bobby becomes more belligerent when his genitals are involved, the Turners should come in and discuss it before pushing the idea further.”
 
I was good with her cautions about the massage, but they were a voyeuristic high for me. Just imagining the kid undergoing a full body massage by his mother and/or sister was very arousing. Add to that the acceptance of him spending time swimming nude at my home ignited my anxiousness to get the show on the road.
 
Julie asked, “How do you intend to get him to shed his clothing when he visits your house?” The question definitely caught the parents’ interest.
 
“Gradually. I’m going to bait him with the pool, force the nudity, and move on to deny him clothing for short periods at other times. As he becomes more accustomed to Lana and me seeing him naked, I’ll begin to introduce other observers.”
 
“Do you intend to touch him in the genital area?”
 
“If the time presents itself, I will massage him as I’d described to his parents. I’ll let Lana do it too if she wants to help.”
 
“You’re leaving yourself wide opened for accusations of inappropriate contact if you do that. I’d think real long and hard on that before I did something like that. We aren’t a massage oriented society, especially when it involves adult males and little boys.”
 
The first sign of parental acceptance came from Mrs. Turner, “What if we sign some kind of agreement that outlines our full understanding and acceptance of him or his wife doing it? George and I would never file a complaint anyway, but that might add some legitimacy for him to do it.”
 
“It’s still a little risky. He’s a teacher.” She paused as she stared at the eleven or twelve-year-old under the showers. She’d deny that’s what she was attending to, but it was pretty apparent. Her hardened stare caused us to look that way too, so we knew what caught her attention. Then she continued, “What if it got out in the community. People who don’t understand the innocence or the reason for doing it could muddy the waters for him. He could lose his job or worse his teaching license. It’s up to you, but I’d go at it slowly and very deliberately. Maybe you should run it by Mr. Lund (our principal). The more people who know the whys and wherefores before you start, the less likely it’ll end up biting you.”
 
I was adamant, “Suppose we use the Jacobson study from a few years back to support the idea? What he and his cohorts found was massaging boys who participated in sports significantly improved their overall performance quick than using coaching alone. Though it had nothing to say about body shyness, it had a lot to say about body awareness. And, those massages were given to nude boys eight to fifteen years of age. And, those were even done by women unknown by the boys or their parents.”
 
As the parents sat silently, Julie’s opinion moved my way at the mention of the study. “That might be your best avenue. You could suggest it was a preliminary single case trial for a study you were planning. It could be announced as such and it’d certainly ‘keep the dogs at bay’. I still think you need to be open about it with Mr. Lund, the school board, and perhaps an article in the local paper highlighting the whats and wherefores.”
 
We were interrupted by Mr. Turner. “You never told us about that Jacobson study. I think it would have really helped me avoid the misgivings I had growing inside. It kind of makes it a feasible possibility for Bobby and might even give us a reason to offer him when he objects. That study makes me much more agreeable. Do you have a copy of it?”
 
Talk about solidifying a plan. I offered to copy copies of the journal article before they left. As I looked up at Mrs. Turner’s gaze, I turned to see three nude boys showering. In a moment of celebration, I knocked on the glass and I keyed the mike to the locker room speakers and told the boys to make sure the showers were turned off before they left. As they turned to attend to my announcement. I told them I was in the middle of a meeting in my office with Miss Wilkerson and some parents so they’d have to make sure things were shut off. Two of the three immediately shielded their penises with their hands, the third continued soaping his chest fully exposing his still hairless package to the viewers. I keyed the mike again, “Oh, put your hands down. We’ve all seen young boys’ penises before. Just make sure the showers are ALL off before you get dressed. Hey, I said put your hands down.”
 
They dropped their hands exposing their hairless hard sausages. One was slowly erecting. The two others didn’t seem to be bothered. I used the observation to note, “See, most boys Bobby’s age are not really that shy.”
 
I thumbed through my file cabinet and retrieved the article I’d referenced and took it to my printer. We continued to talk as I ran three copies, one for each party involved. As the copies spit out of the machine, I couldn’t help but notice the women were still watching the soon to be teens as they finished their showers. The boy who never seemed to lose his comfort level still soaping his still flaccid penis and balls and the other two sporting three or four inch erections trying to act unaware as they faced the wall rather than the window of my office. I wanted to go into the shower and forcefully turn them toward the window just to add to their embarrassment.
 
“That’s how we’ll do this with Bobby. He’s going to be a single case study based on Jacobson that we’ll use this study to initiate a full blown study of our own. Julie, you will have to find someone at a higher academic level to help us set this thing up.”
 
I liked the idea as it would definitely make it easier to sell Bobby on participating. I wasn’t naïve enough to think the boy would magically change his feelings about his body, but I did think making him feel “chosen’ would make such things a bit easier to broach. His parents seemed to agree. How special would he feel? Only time would tell.
 
We decided to meet with Bobby as a group to introduce the concept of improving his motor ability with massage and “other methods”. I purposely avoided telling the eleven-year-old he’d be required to be naked for extended periods during the study. Doing so would definitely have slammed the door on much of his cooperation.
 
One of the side effects of the study for me is that it definitely took away some of the horniness I felt prior to legitimizing what his parents and I planned to do with the kid. Hopefully, when it came down to that moment of revelation to the boy, he’d rebel enough to bring some arousal back to me. I knew it would serve to arouse him a great deal. The more oppositional he was the better for me.
 
Mr. Turner asked how I intended to get him naked for that first weekend at my home, especially if my wife Lana was there too. My response made Julie cringe, put Mrs. Turner on a mild defensive and seemed to satisfy her husband.  I told them I’d bring up the rule that boys under fourteen had to swim nude at our house and he would be swimming. When he objected I’d try to reason with him that we’d all seen naked boys and that I’d seen him naked at school every time he had P. E. I’d wait until Lana was off to the supermarket that first time to temporarily temper his embarrassment, but none the less he’d have to strip. If that didn’t work, I’d threaten him with a paddle. I lied a bit telling them I hoped it wouldn’t come to that. Secretly, I enjoyed busting boys’ bottoms, especially bare bottoms, with that well fashioned tool. Watching the milk white globes turn various shades of pink was quite reinforcing to me.
 
Julie, ever the psychologist, posed the question as to how I was going to introduce touch to his penis and scrotum.  I told her I’d wait until he was stretched out for the massage and would “groom” that with passing rubs to what I’m sure would be a hard-on. Eventually, I’d just grab it and rub without fanfare, occasionally moving down to his scrotum. I also insisted I wouldn’t concentrate on it but make it a passing contact.  I knew I would eventually shelve that whole passing idea and spend considerable attention to that item. It’d been my experience once my prior “victims” had experienced dry orgasms, they tended to completely drop their guard. They’d spread their legs in anticipation of that moment of pleasure. They, to a boy, were more compliant to my command to take off their clothes after a few sessions of such pleasures.
 
The problem was, those kids became less guarded around me, but weren’t able to generalize being naked in front of others. I was hoping having Lana there to watch and perhaps participate in the massages. I’d increase the time of required nudity and number of observers. Finally have the parents reinforce the “therapy” at home. Bobby couldn’t help but lower his anxiety over being naked before anyone. Only time would tell.
 
Long story short, Julie and I both approached the principal with the whole research proposal. He was skittish about it to say the least and decided to pass it off to the superintendent. The superintendent, with about the same level of apprehension, forwarded it to the school board for consideration. All three entities had no problem with the premise of the research, it was the whole body massages that gave them pause. I carefully avoided including the forced nudity aspect when describing the methodology to all three.
 
Mrs. Bolton, one of the Board members, was exceptionally helpful to the cause. At the meeting she relayed similar concerns with her own ten-year-old son. She made me promise, if approved, I would coach her on methods of building stronger motor related skills, and “more importantly healthier body image” for her boy. I placated her.
 
Board approval was given provided I worked with their attorney to draw up participation agreements for any families who wished to have their sons participate. It was to clearly and specifically outline the nudity and massage aspects of the study. “To protect you and us from any legal situations that may arise otherwise.” The other condition was the preliminary study I described had to be limited to no more than ten participants.  Any further research that might be spurred by this study would need additional board consideration. “Mr. Jenkins, it would be our sincerest desire that all aspects of this study be as transparent as possible.” It was a done deal.
 
Bobby’s first weekend with me was in early November. Outside temperatures were still quite comfortable. He showed up in the school’s gym attire which was to be the clothing of choice for his visits throughout the study. I was quick to go over that rule first. “You need to wear the gym clothes only--no underwear, only a jock under the shorts-- every time you come.” I could tell he was uneasy about that right off the bat. “While Mom and Dad are here, I want to make it clear that you will have to undergo a massage at least twice a day. Most of the time, I’ll be the one giving the massage.” I was careful to avoid mentioning the massages would be full body with him nude. I could work through that later. I also purposely avoided mentioning he’d be swimming naked at least four hours a day. Following the introductory meeting his parents left and Bobby was surprisingly at ease.
 
Lana came home an hour and a half after Bobby’s arrival and a half hour after his parents’ departure. I guess he never thought of me being married, but he was a bit surprised. Lana was quite obvious as she scanned the lanky but good looking legs from his ankles to the top of his bare thighs.
 
“You’re a handsome one, aren’t you? Bet the girls are all over you.” That remark was cut off by me. I needed to have a discussion with her about this kid’s problems so she wouldn’t make it worse.
 
I showed Bobby to the bedroom he’d be sleeping in on our three day weekends. As he was making himself more comfortable and checking out the electronics I’d put in there to entertain him, I huddled with Lana. It was important that she understand her well meaning compliments about Bobby’s “good looking” body were what I suspected behind his problem with over modesty. I encouraged her to save those comments for when the boy was forcibly made to remain naked for hours, if not days, at a time.  I explained our objective could be measured by the presence or absence of an erection.  When he was flaccid she could comment, when he was hard she had to lay off comments and use only touch to express her view of his attractiveness.
 
Our low keyed discussion was interrupted as the boy entered the kitchen. I was once again drawn to the attractive, for lack of better terms, legginess of the age. It was a good time to introduce rule one to the boy and figure out how to make it happen. I patted the seat of the chair between Lana and me as an indication for the boy to sit.  
 
“Did you see our pool?”
 
“Yeah, it’s pretty cool. Am I going to get to use it?”
 
“Yes, but there is one rule that you probably won’t like. Boys who are younger than fourteen have to swim naked no matter who is here or what time of day they swim.” I looked serious but I think he thought I was kidding at first.
 
“Yeah, like that’s gonna’ happen.” He kind of chuckled.
 
Lana jumped in, “No, Bobby, he’s serious. You have to swim naked.”
 
A serious expression immediately filled the boy’s face. “Well, I guess I won’t be swimming then.”
 
“Oh, but, Bobby, yes you are. You will have to spend at least four hours a day in the pool. So, I’d suggest you get used to it. There is one other thing. There’s an outdoor shower over in the far corner. You will use that shower for daily bathing. Again, you will be totally naked when you do.  I realize the neighbors have an open view of the shower, but they’ve all seen naked boys before at some time or another so there’s nothing there they haven’t seen before.”
 
The kid had a definite look of fear on his face, “I think I need to go home. I don’t want to stay here.”
 
Then I dropped the bomb, “Bobby, your mom and dad both know the rules. They brought you here so you would have to do this. It’s all for your own good. Just relax and go with the flow. Pretty soon you won’t even think about it. I promise. Don’t fight it, just do it.”
 
Tears formed in the boy’s eyes. He really was scared. Lana patted her lap and he shrugged. She patted her lap again and said, “Bobby, come over here and let me hold you. I know this is rough.” Surprisingly, the kid did. As he draped himself across her lap she gently held him close with one arm and buried his head between her breasts with the other. Her hand began stroking the boy’s thighs as she quietly held him for reassurance. “Bobby, it’ll be okay. You’ll get through this fine.” Her fingers slid under the hem of those shorts as she continued gently rubbing. She’d pushed them up far enough to see the pouch of the kid’s jock. Her left hand had moved to stroking his hair as her right continued the assault to his upper leg. Momentarily she kissed the boy on top of his head. “Don’t be so worried. I’ve seen little boys naked before. And you know Mr. Jenkins has even seen you naked before. It won’t be so bad.” She rubbed his head some more. “I know. Let’s take your shorts off right now. You can leave your jock on. What do you say? Can we do that?” The boy lay silent as she patted his ass and pressed his head into her chest.
 
I liked the softness of the moment and felt she’d made some inroads. Momentarily, she slid her hand under the elastic waistband of the shorts and pushed the side down exposing a bare cheek crossed diagonally by the elastic strap of his jock. The kid didn’t even resist. “You know if you stand up for a second, I can get them off.” He didn’t budge. “Bobby? Stand up and let me help you get used to this.” He didn’t move or indicate any knowledge of her request. Lana pushed his head up and gently coaxed the boy to rise in her lap. His right hip was still exposed as he rose to his feet. Lana gently centered his body and pulled his shorts all the way down to his ankles. She stopped. “See, nobody’s making fun of you. You’re still a kid. Nothin’ to see here. Now lift your feet so I can get these shorts off.”  He complied.
 
As the boy in just a t-shirt and jock strap stood before her, I was mesmerized by how easily we’d gotten that far. I was also treated to the appearance of some tenting in the pouch. I think Lana was encouraged by his obvious erection too.
 
“Okay, let’s take this old t-shirt. Whata’ you say?” She stood and pulled the t-shirt up. Bobby raised his arms like a toddler being stripped for his bath.
 
This beautiful kid stood clad only in a jock. I was amazed at the ease at which Lana had stripped him. She threw his t-shirt on the island in the kitchen, took her seat again and pulled the almost naked boy back onto her lap and into the motherly cuddle once more. She gently caressed his bare backside lightly stimulating his cheeks with her fingernails. She winked at me and said, “Yep, this girl’s still got it!” There was a look of pride in her eyes.
 
As she continued to stimulate the eleven year old’s pale, bare backside I wondered how she’d get the strap off. The boy still pouting kept his head pressed into her blouse. Lana’s hand began stimulating his right pelvic area at the crest. It was increasingly evident she was on her way to the pouch. The scene was causing me to stir a bit.
 
Her verbal remarks were now aimed at me. “You have any idea what we’re going to have for dinner, tonight? I mean I have my hands full at the moment.”
 
She was sending the faux message that she wasn’t interested in Bobby’s body, but more what we would have for dinner. Nice technique! My mind drifted to her getting the strap off so we could take the naked boy to some fast food drive-in window and expose him to his first taste of public nudity, but it was too soon for that. As I offered suggestions of what takeout one of us could get, her hand slid down to the side of the woven pouch of the boy’s strap. She didn’t attempt to slip under the barrier, but instead just lightly stimulated the skin area outside the hem.  “Well? What are we going to have for dinner, Sam?”
 
I seriously suggested, “How about chicken?”
 
“Bobby you think chicken would be good?” She continued lightly tickling his groin. He didn’t respond. I’d bet he was trying to concentrate on where Lana’s hand was. I really think she’d gotten him to the point of anticipating her initial contact with his erect penis or scrotum. “Bobby? Do you want Mr. Jenkins or me to get chicken for supper?”
 
A muffled reply. “Yeah, chicken’s okay.”
 
I jumped on it. “Chicken it is!”
 
Lana abruptly lifted the side of the kids pouch and stroked his scrotum. I damned near fell out of my chair. Who’d have thought she would get there so fast? She was actually playing with his ball sack and he was letting her do it. Again, she smiled a devious smile and winked at me. “Hey, Bobby, lets get the jock off so you can go swimming and one of us can go get some chicken. Whata’ say?”
 
The kid slowly rose from her lap. He stood in front of her. She took the waistband of the jock on either side and slid it down. I remember watching as she wiggled the damned thing over his erection. “Okay, Buddy, let’s lift those legs and get it all the way off.” Bobby shielded his erection with his hand as Lana completed the undressing. He stood there, hands cupping his hard appendage. Lana asked, “Nuggets, fingers, or chicken on the bone?”
 
I couldn’t help but make all those suggestions a bit dirty considering we had a nude boy standing in our presence. “Nuggets? Fingers? Bone?” Oh well, dirty mind.
 
Lana continued to inquire, “Fingers?” The kid was actually smiling.
 
“Fries with that?”
 
“Yeah.”
 
“Ranch, Blue Cheese or Barbeque?”
 
“Ranch.”
 
I was a bit surprised at how quickly my wife had stripped the boy. It was masterful. I just wished he’d release his rather long boner for our examination. After all, even all those times I’d seen him in the locker room, he’d never had an erection. I was curious at how long his already lengthy pecker could stretch. I think Lana read my mind. “I’ll go to Chik-fil-a’ and get the chicken. You boys can stay home and swim. Bobby, I’m going to gather up your clothes here, before I go. I’ll put them away. You need to stay naked and try to get used to it. By the time I get back, you won’t even notice you’re naked. Okay?”
 
I could tell looking at the boy’s face he was still wrestling with what had just happened. “Okay.”
 
“But, before I go.” She reached down and pried his hands away from his penis. “I need to see what you’re hiding down here.” After a hard look, she actually reached out and cradled his stiff penis in her open hand. “Hum, looks like a boy’s penis doesn’t it? Nothin’ new here!” She patted it with her other hand and released it. “Now you don’t have to hide it anymore. I’ve seen it all.” She got up, grabbed the t-shirt, shorts, and jock. “I’ll be back in a flash with the CHICKENNNNNNN!!!”
 
As she went down the hallway with his clothes she turned back momentarily, and out of Bobby’s eyeshot, but not mine, with wide open eyes lipped the word “long”, while separating her index fingers about six inches apart. I couldn’t help but grin.
 
So, there we were. I was with a boy I’d seen naked many times before. Only this time we were alone and at my home. My impulse was to feel that now five inch appendage my wife had already initiated touching, but I didn’t want to upset the gains she’d made so masterfully. I mean, who’d have thought? No games, no threats, just desensitizing the kid by taking it slowly. Wish I’d videoed that routine so I could show his mother and every other bashful kid’s mother how to begin.
 
“Okay, Bobby, hit the pool. I’ll join you in a minute.”
 
Watching Lana’s seduction of the boy had made me a little horny as well. I felt the urge to unload before donning my swim trunks. So, I did. After the five minute interlude, I joined Bobby in the pool. I was half expecting him to question the fairness of him having to be naked and me getting the benefit of trunks, but it didn’t happen. I guess he just assumed adults got to wear something.  We played with water “cannons” squirting each other and laughing. I was truly surprised his erection had subsided and he seemed completely oblivious to his nudity.
 
“How come you are not embarrassed being naked right now? I mean you don’t seem to mind. But, at school, you are really embarrassed being naked in the locker room.”
 
“I guess because it’s just you. In the locker room I have all those other boys looking at me. You don’t make fun of my junk and they do.”
 
“What do they say or do that bothers you so much?”
 
“Oh, they grab my penis and pull it. Sometimes they pull it hard. They call me “Long Dong” and stuff like that.”
 
“What do you mean they pull it?”
 
“They grab it and squeeze it and yank on it. Sometimes the tell me they’re going to strip me on the playground so the girls can see it. They make fun of me and make me scared.”
 
“Well, Bobby, they’re just jealous. Your penis is longer than theirs and it embarrasses them. You know if you were proud of it instead of embarrassed by it, and walked around the locker room letting it swing...” the kid laughed and repeated the ‘letting it swing’ line, “those guys would probably leave you alone. You liked that did you?”
 
I continued, “No, seriously. If you changed your attitude and maybe just cradled it while you faced them and said, ‘You can only wish you were as big as I am’. They would be the embarrassed ones. You could say something like, ‘Hey, I have an idea, let’s put yours and mine side by side and compare them, whata’ say?’ I guarantee that’d shut them up.”
 
He glanced down at his penis. When he looked up, the smile had given way to a doubtful facial expression.
 
“Don’t worry, Bobby, we’re going to make things okay. Trust me.”
 
He got out of the pool and looked for a towel. I think he was a bit melancholic.
 
“You done swimming?”
 
“Yeah. Where did Mrs. Jenkins put my stuff?”
 
I broke the news, “About your stuff. We want you to stay naked for a few hours every day so you won’t need it. You’ll be sleeping naked too. So, we don’t need to worry about your stuff right now.”
 
With that the kid reiterated his desire to go home. I answered that request with the same answer as before. He wasn’t going home until Monday after school. What I didn’t tell him was the “stuff” he’d worn to our house—t-shirt, short shorts, ankle length socks and a jock—were exactly the same items he’d be wearing to school that Monday. But that’s another full page of bantering.
 
He plopped down on a patio chair and pouted. I continued to wander the pool putting the floating toys on the surrounding deck. As I took in the image of his beautiful form, I longed for the massage sessions that would begin that very evening. Maybe I’d let Lana do the honors, but no, I wanted to feel those beautiful legs all the way up and over that firm backside. What I really wanted was to feel that long, hardened appendage and, hopefully, loose scrotum for an extended period of time.
 
I lifted myself out of the pool and gathered the toys. After putting them in the mesh bag hanging off the ladder, I joined the boy on the over stuffed chaise lounge. Jokingly I spread his knees to open his flaccid penis to view. “You need to give that guy some air. Let’s sit with your legs apart. Remember, be proud! Really Bobby, it’s a really good-looking penis.” Oooppsss, there I went doing what I’d cautioned Lana against—drawing unnecessary attention to his boyhood. Sure hoped it didn’t take me one step backward.
 
Thirty minutes later, Lana returned with the chicken. She set the patio table and we had dinner. Lana again took a motherly role and rubbed the boys head. “What’s the matter, Bobby? Why are you so down?” He wasted no time telling her he didn’t want to be naked. Her response shocked me. “Well, I like seeing you naked. It’s time this place had some decent decorations to look at, and there you are!” He playfully poked him under his arm. He couldn’t help but grin.
 
Lana dismissed him after dinner and told him to retreat to the living room to watch TV. She told him where to find the remote. “Mr. Jenkins and I will take care of cleaning up and then we’ll join you.” I just drank in the bare backside as his cheeks alternated with each step. Lana drank in the sight as well. She finally quietly acknowledged to me, “Good looking boy. He has nothing to be shy about. You get a chance to feel him?” I nodded and smiled.
 
“Yeah, but you might have to work your magic again tonight. We’re going to start the massages.”
 
“I can handle it. Literally, I can handle it.” She smiled proudly.
 
As I remember it, Lana and I finished cleaning up in the kitchen and went to join our young naked guest in the living room. He was laying on his stomach on the couch. Lana walked over and lightly slapped his bare bottom. “Whatcha’ watching, Buddy?”
 
He identified a show Lana and I were more familiar with than he was, “I don’t know Andy something.”
 
I looked at the TV and the kid was actually engrossed in a black and white version of “Andy Griffith”. “That’s the Andy Griffith Show. I used to watch that when I was a little boy. It was old even then, but a lot of folks watched it.”
 
Lana patted his bare bottom again and said, “Hey let me sit down. You can lay across my lap.  I plopped my ass down in our recliner. I was somewhat irritated that my wife was getting to experience the kid’s goods before I did. I mean who in the hell made her the lead in this “therapy” stuff? My better judgment kept me silent though. I was still amazed she’d stripped him naked without having to “fire a shot”. What made me angrier was the kid lifted himself up and let her sit down. He was just too cooperative. I wouldn’t be able to warm his backside for disobedience that night. I wondered if I would get to feel the boy’s backside that night either.
 
Lana helped him position himself so his firm, smooth globes were across her lap and centered in front of her. His head returned to the throw pillow it’d been on when we entered. Lana began rubbing his butt cheeks immediately and didn’t stray far from them. Oh, her hands made and occasional trip down his legs while she massaged his calves. Her right hand slid up his back to his shoulders and arms, but both always returned for an extended coverage of his milk white cheeks.
 
Though both Lana and Bobby continued to watch the television I was more interested in his reaction to her touch. He didn’t seem too concerned. Lana cleared her throat to signal me to watch. I did. She slid the side of her hand right down the boy’s butt crack.  He still didn’t move. I stuck my index finger up and smiled. She got the message and nodded her head with an upset look as if to say she wasn’t going there. But then she did with a smirk. As her finger pressed his anus he jumped and told her to “Quit!”
 
She was quick to ask, “Quit what, Bobby?”


“Quit putting your finger in my asshole!”
 
“While you are with us, you can call it your anus or even your butt hole, but if you use that term again I’ll spank your bare backside. Understand?” Whoa, she was taking on the disciplinarian role now.
 
What came to my mind was that she was really ready to be a mom. We’d thought about having kids, but watching her easily slip Bobby into compliance I was more convinced than ever. Why she chose accounting I’ll never know. She’s have been one hell of a teacher.
 
“Okay, Buddy, time to turn over so I can work on your front side.”
 
“No, that’s okay. I’m fine. Just do my back.”
 
“No, I need to spend some time on the front. Turn over.”
 
“I don’t want you to do my front.”
 
“I didn’t ask if you wanted me to, I told you to turn over, now do it.” Ah, ha, Lana was becoming pissed. I just smirked at her when our eyes met and shrugged my shoulders.
 
“SNAP! SNAP!” Two very pink handprints decorated his left butt cheek. The boy reached back with a scowl on his face. “Hey, that hurt.”
 
“I meant it to hurt. I’m not going to ask again. Next time I’ll get Mr. Jenkin’s paddle. Now roll over!”
I must confess those two rather sharp swats still echo in my head every time I remember that scene. She didn’t hold back. Watching her spank him, I had a mixture of arousal and jealousy. I wanted to be the spanker. She was taking over the whole damn thing. We’d straighten that out after I sent him to bed.
 
Bobby was slow to give in. I decided to push myself to the center of the issue. After all the kid was my responsibility and I wasn’t going to sublet the spanking privilege. I got up to get the paddle. When I returned the boy was still chest down. He saw me approach with the board and began to comply.
 
“Oh no, you’ve earned a little something to remember to do what you’re told.  Just lay right back down. He did. Lana put her left arm across the back of his legs and her right arm half way between his backside and shoulder blades. With a little smile of anticipation, she nodded toward the boy’s bare ass. I came down with the paddle hard. He lurched and cried out. Another swat echoed throughout the living room. He wiggled trying to get out from under the onslaught. Lana held firm. WHAP! Another swat. He was crying. WHAP! Another lurch. His butt was no longer just pink from Lana’s handprint. WHAP! He pleaded for me to stop. I did.
 
“Now roll over and let Mrs. Jenkins do whatever she had in mind. Next time I will do that the first time you don’t do what you’re told.”
 
I think we both were curious to see what he would show—hard or soft. If he was hard I’d think he got off on the ass warming. If he was soft, I’d read it as having put him in his place. It was flaccid. Kind of hanging over his tennis ball sized sack. Lana immediately grabbed his loose noodle and worked it like she had a handful of Playdough. It took awhile for the boy to stop crying after the paddling and his penis didn’t respond to Lana’s playing for five or six minutes, but eventually he sucked in the nasal discharge and his penis rose.
 
He choked out a warning he’d learned in elementary school, I’m sure, “You aren’t supposed to touch me there.” He tried to push her hand away.
 
“Does Mr. Jenkins have to teach you to behave again? Listen Sport, I’m going to touch you wherever I want to, whenever I want to. Just sit back and enjoy the ride. Now spread your legs so I can get to your balls.”
 
Frustrated the boy complied. Lana went straight to work on his penis and ball sack. After exploring his bulbous glans, she tended to his chest and the front of his legs. God, I was envious. That was supposed to be my turf and now I was relegated to watching. Yeah, we’d need to come to an understanding when Bobby went to bed.
 
The kid remained hard the rest of the evening.
 
Before bed, Lana said, “See Bobby. Showing your boy parts and being naked can be a good thing. You liked the massage, didn’t you? I mean all but Mr. Jenkins massage on your backside not so much, but is our peepee still there? How about your ball sack? Is it still there? Did anyone make fun of them? Being naked isn’t so bad is it? She actually kissed his cheek and bid him a good night.
 
I put him to bed after quickly hugging his neck. I told him I hoped I’d never have to paddle him again, but it was really up to him when he was staying with us. I also told him I thought he’d made quite a bit of progress in overcoming his body shyness. I bid him a good night, left his room and shut the door.
 
I caught up with Lana in the kitchen and asked her what in the hell gave her the idea she could take over my intervention program. I was half pissed, but half amused at her success in just one afternoon and evening. She reminded me that I got to tear up his ass first. I argued that I just got sloppy seconds after she planted two handprints.
 
“And what was with the stranglehold on his penis? You like it hard, don’t you?”
 
“Oh, stop it Sam. You’re just jealous. I got him naked without a fight. You’ve got to keep him that way. Tomorrow can be your day. Did you tell him he’d be naked the whole weekend or are you still going to “ease into it”?
 
“Well, we’ve come this far much faster than I thought it would take. I’ll just make him stay naked. Any, ideas for a debut to the public? Or, should we just stay home this weekend and not show him off.”
 
Lana repeated her earlier assessment, “He’s a good looking boy. That penis...what’s it four inches soft? You could hang hats on it when it’s stiff.”
 
“Easily five inches when it’s stiff. I guess you’re right we need to just stay home this weekend. Hey, maybe we can get his parents to stop by to see our progress. On second thought, having them come by might set the whole thing back. I’ll think about it.”
 
The following morning Bobby came down to the kitchen and asked where his clothes were. I told him Mrs. Jenkins and I decided he’d be naked all weekend. That didn’t go over well. His first concern was someone else might see him naked. He didn’t like my response that I hoped that would happen. He got very frustrated. Lana put him at ease a bit.
 
“Bobby, it’s like art. When you have something beautiful, you want to share the experience with others. And, your young bod, is like a beautiful piece of artwork. Your parents, Coach and I want you to be comfortable sharing it with others. I still don’t understand why you don’t want to walk down Main Street with your junk on display. It’d put all those other kids to shame.”  She squeezed his chin between her thumb and forefinger and muttered, “You’re a really handsome kid with a beautiful body.” She released his chin and kissed him on the cheek.
 
I teased both by reminding her she’d only known him for a day and was already flirting. She smiled. Bobby was still reeling from the news he’d be naked all weekend and didn’t respond to the remark.
 
The afternoon of that second day, Lana begrudgingly allowed me to give the kid his first massage. I placed the boy on the floor of the living room, pillow under his head, but on his back with his legs splayed wide apart. I worked his face and chest, down his arms, and eventually his already stiff penis. The darn thing felt much like a wooden dowel with a slight warp. But, then again, what dowel had a soft spot at it’s tip? Bobby didn’t object to my working his rod, I supposed it was Lana’s ground work from the night before that let him know it was inevitable.
 
His scrotum was relaxed and I was free to feel his firm little testes incased within. They moved as I fingered them. Stretching the skin of the sack made them even more pronounced. Lana lounged on the couch watching intently as I worked the boy’s body. She began to offer suggestions, but I gave her a look that communicated for her to “butt out”. Bobby just lay silent fully accepting my exploration of his beautiful body. Lord, his skin was smooth and his muscles were firm. I continued to imagine his penis and backside with an even tan.
 
Photos. That’s what was needed. I’d take images of Bobby in his forced nudity. Images of him being massaged by Lana. Images that would communicate to anyone who would see them how beautiful this kid was. They’d also be timeless remembrances of his hairless boyhood days his parents could share. The idea of the camera pointed at his naked form would definitely make him object. Besides the candid shots, making him pose provocatively would serve to make it worse for him and oh so good for me. It was time to get out the seven hundred dollar digital Nikon Lana bitched at me for buying...
 
 





   
   
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