The Other Side of Midnight 3

The Other Side of Midnight – Chapter 3

By Patrik Razmuzzen

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This work is intended for ADULTS ONLY. It may contain depictions of sexual activity involving minors. If you are not of a legal age in your locality to view such material or if such material does not appeal to you, do not read further, and do not save this story.
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It was a while before I got to see anything else, partly because Mark's Mum and Dad came back from tour and everything remained normal for a few weeks and partly because I had to go visit my cousin Amy, who lived about 60 miles away on a beach by a lake. Normally I liked visiting her but this time all I wanted to do was get back and find out if they were sill playing this game. This being the early 90s, neither of us had a mobile phone.

Anyway, more about her later, but eventually, I was home. And, needless to say, the first thing I did was to call to Mark's house, but there was no answer.

I spent the next three hours in my room wondering if they were still playing their game or had I missed it when suddenly my Mum called me. “Your friend Mark is here to see you!”

I rushed downstairs to see him standing on the front patio with a football, “you want to come out to the Clearing? We're having a kick about.”

It was disappointing seeing him dressed and normal again, almost as if that day weeks ago had been nothing but a distant dream. Still, it gave me something to do - and it moved me slightly closer to an answer,

“The Clearing” was a large patch of open grass at the back of my house. It was surrounded by trees and a good place to mess about or play football because we usually had the place to ourselves. We climbed over the fence at the end of my back garden and met with two other friends of Derek's - Stephen and a kid from Denmark called Tobi.

We'd been kicking about for half an hour when out of the blue, Claire and a guy I hated called Walt showed up and sat down on an old fallen tree.

You couldn't miss the tension. Mark was looking over at her every few minutes. So was I to be honest - at Walt as much as at Claire. The others didn't seem anything too unusual.

After a few minutes Claire called us over. We decided to take a break and headed over. Walt immediately slapped my head a little harder than was necessary and made some comment about me being new to the area and having to toughen up.

“Walt, leave him alone,” Claire said, although not very authoritatively.

“Yeah, you moron.” Mark added. I was impressed that Mark stood up to him, but turned out Mark hated him too. Walt was a bit of a bully who, despite being a year older, was in the same year as Mark at school.

Claire got in between them before he had a chance to do anything She looked at Walt first and then turned to Mark. “Excuse me?” she said.

Walt responded by grabbing the back of my pants and wedgieing me so hard I fell forward and nearly out of my pants. “We're only joking, aren't we, new boy?” Walter said, picked me up and squeezing my ribs. “Anyway, I've got to run,” he added. “Later, losers.” He headed off towards his house, which was a small mansion on the other side of the Clearing from where I lived.

I was never happier to see the back of him.

“Sorry about that, Mark,” Claire said.

I was still trying to sheepishly rearrange my pants and hoping she hadn't seen anything.

“And now, Mark. We can't have you calling my friend a moron, can we? Come with me please.”

“Your friend?” I said, a little incredulously.

Claire said nothing - she just led Mark a few yards away for a private conversation, while the rest of us sat down and waited so we could get back to playing. They were too far away from us to hear what was being said, but I just wanted them to hurry up so we could get back to playing and I could forget about being wedgied in front of my friends. But that changed a little when Mark suddenly started pulling off his t-shirt, and I forgot all about my embarrassment with Walt. Heavens, I think I even may have thanked him.

She's making him strip! I thought excitedly. They ARE still playing! But...

… out here? She wasn't going to make him strip naked out here, was she? In the open? I mean, there was no one around and very few people came out here, but it was still dangerous.

Mark, now naked from the waist up, visibly pleaded but it didn't work, and off came his shoes and socks and then his jeans.

“What is he doing?” Stephen asked suddenly. “Is he... Is he taking his clothes off...?”

“Yep,” Tobi replied. “Again.”

“Again?” Stephen and I asked at the same time.

“Long story,” Tobi replied.

He knew? Someone else was in on it? But what did he know? How much did he know? I pushed the thoughts to one side. We fell in to silence as the white underpants came down and off, and there he was - even more gorgeous and even more beautifully naked in the bright sunlight. At that point, I swear my heart stopped beating for just a second. There was something about him being naked and outdoors that turned me on even more.

He spoke to her again and then, with his hands covering his privates, he scampered back over to us.

“No covering,” Claire called after him. “Or I'll give you another punishment as well!”

Mark stopped. His hands moved to his sides as if they were being pulled by some sort of invisible force and his thick semi-erect penis and heavy balls wobbled into view as he continued his way towards us, albeit a little slower.

He took the ball from us and went back out towards the short grass.

For the next twenty minutes we kicked the ball around and made Mark chase it. Because he was in bare feet, he wasn't able to move very fast. Got used to it after a while, but he still wasn't 100%. The grass seemed to be soft enough to not risk hurting him anyway. At one point, I think he enjoyed it, because he kept reaching down and rubbing his dick when he thought no one was looking.

¨That must be awkward,” I muttered. ¨Running around with that thing waving around and bouncing off your stomach.¨

¨The swinging balls don´t help either,¨ Tobi replied. ¨Looks funny though!¨

He started to get dirty too. It had been raining recently and just about everything below his knees was dusty or muddy. As was his dick and balls, obviously, as well as one leg and the side of his bottom, where he´d fallen over.

At some point, we had the idea to make him goalkeeper, so he'd have to dive around even more, and watching him dive naked was even weirder than watching him run naked after the ball. Especially with an erection. Being naked and in side is one thing, but being naked outside is the weirdest feeling when you're not used to it, and he said he never got used to it. But being naked outside and playing football with your clothed friends? I don't even want to think about it. One way or another, he was going to need a bath or a shower that night, that was for sure.

Oh, God, what would it be like to bathe him? I thought absently.

The other thing about playing in goals, though, meant that he had to get the ball when it went into the bushes, making him even more dirty and scruffy looking. Of course, we didn't help by deliberately kicking it too high or too far for him to get it. At one point the ball rolled down the hill and wound up in the pond, and Mark was elected to run down after it and waddle across the shin-deep water before someone came. I think he was seen by an old woman walking her dog, but she was too far away to cause trouble.

We played about for another half an hour before taking a break and joining Claire on the fallen tree. Mark, though, just sat on the muddy ground beside us. Presumably, the tree counted as furniture, even though it was outdoors. I remember thinking that Claire would let Mark get dressed again, but she didn´t say anything, and Mark knew better than to ask. This, for some reason, just made me hornier. Instead, he just sat on the ground in front of us, looking sheepish with his dick pointing up in the air, noticeably trying to resist the urge to stroke it.

“Okay, I'll ask,” Stephen said suddenly. “So why's he naked?”

“He's being punished,” Claire said casually. “Calling my friend a moron wasn't nice, was it?”

Mark didn't respond.

“And being disrespectful in front of me or my friends carries a penalty of an hour of public nudity, right?”

“I didn't know it would be in front of my friends, though,” Mark pointed out.

“They don't mind,” Claire replied. “Do you, boys?”

We shook our heads casually.

“And you blocked yourself from view, so I'm adding on another fifteen minutes, so by my reckoning you still have another” - she looked at he watch - “twenty two minutes to go before you can get dressed again. I'm sure your friends will help you keep track of time.”

“Twenty two minutes?” Mark groaned. “Can I do the rest of it some other time?”

“Nope. You're being punished remember. Unless you want to start again?”

Mark said nothing.

“Although I don't think it's a severe enough punishment. I think it's nice being outdoors naked,” She turned to face the rest of us. Why don't you boys join him?”

Stephen reacted in horror and Tobi laughed. I just said, “no thanks!”

“Oh come on, Derek - you have a very nice body and you should be comfortable with it.”

“I am comfortable with it.” I said. “I'm just worried that someone might see me. And get me into trouble.”

“Shame,” she said, turning back to Mark, “I still think it looks natural, Mark. And I want you to think so too, so I have a new task for you. By the end of the summer you are to have a nice brown all-over tan. And no sunbeds. Won't that be nice?”

We just laughed again.

“But that means -”

“Yes, I know,” Claire said, “But you can do it when and where you like. As long a you have a nice tan by the end of summer.”

“Thanks,” Mark replied, half sarcastically. I thought Claire was going to punish him again there and then, but she let it go.

“Right, you boys can get back to your game, I have to go back and start dinner. Mark, be back by seven, okay?”

Mark just nodded as the three of them went back to the football.

“And no clothes for another twenty one minutes - keep an eye on him boys.”

It was time I had to head home as well. I was a bit disappointed, but still relieved and happy that Mark was still a slave boy.

“Okay,” she said. She looked up at the others and realised that Mark had his back to her. Then suddenly, she started grabbing his clothes and pulling them into her backpack. Then she was off, walking as fast as she could. I had to run to keep up.

“How's he going to get home without his clothes?” I asked.

“He'll just have to be creative,” Claire said. “He usually is.”

(The End)