Strip Poke-Him 2

By Gerste

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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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"Strip Poke-Him," by Gerste, part II:

Simon Ditther was in a predicament. Here he was, hands bound behind his back, naked as the day he was born, humiliated, with 12 girls from his class ogling and fondling his most "private" regions: his uncircumcised penis, testicles and anus, among all other things. And if that were not bad enough, he now was compelled to walk home naked for two miles. He began to strategize to minimize his nude exposure: he would dart from bush to bush, he thought, since the whole way was lined with houses on both sides. As if Mrs. Holdser, who was also examining his every crevice that moment, had read his thoughts, she said, "I think I'll send you with a six person escort, to make sure you don't hide behind trees and bushes, or run home. Any volunteers?" Twelve hands went up. She "randomly" picked six, and put the remaining six to work on uploading the pictures they took of Simon onto an online computer.

Mrs. Holdser: "Make sure you girls send these detailed photos of Simon to everyone in the school district. I have a program that will do that. Literally thousands of people will see every inch of Simon here in digital detail, especially the close-ups on his anus and genitalia. They'll all see his face as well in these photos and know it's him. Include a message for them to share with everyone they know. Make sure you also send these to all your friends and relatives outside the district, with the message to share them in turn, and so on. Got it, girls?" They all enthusiastically agreed.

Simon, visibly shaken: "You can't do that! It's illegal, I tell you! You fucking bitches!!!"

Mrs. Holdser: "You watch your tongue. We can do it and we will. I have connections, mister. And what do you have? Just a big dick for all of us to play with and an attractive body to fondle at our will." (She fondled his penis while she said this.)

Now Simon watched helplessly as they uploaded the images and executed Mrs. Holdser's orders. He began to weep uncontrollably.

Mrs. Holdser: "Pull yourself together and get a move on. The whole neighborhood is waiting for you."

The whole neighborhood? Were they in on this, too? thought Simon.

As Simon walked down the side walk with his entourage, two or three girls held his arms so that he couldn't bolt, one took notes to keep track of the numbers of people, and two girls went from house to house, each on opposite sides, to invite the people to come out to gawk at and feel up "the naked boy." Whole households poured out into the streets. It seemed that everyone was home that night. People of all ages and genders, especially girls, were staring at and palpating every inch of his body, especially his genitals and anus. Many took pictures of his whole body, to include face, genitals and anal regions, from every angle. Nothing was left to imagination. He was often told to squat or bend over. And all the time, the girls were encouraging all of it.

When Simon finally arrived at his house five and a half hours after having left at 3:30, he was ready to crawl out of his skin, which itself seemed to crawl from all of the probing. They approached the door, which opened with Mrs. Ditther standing there: "Come in."

Once inside, the notetaker triumphantly announced that "2,673 people had probed Simon's rectum, scrotum and penis. This number does not include us twelve girls and Mrs. Holdser, all of whom did so as well."

Simon was beside himself with anger: "You wrote their names? We can prosecute those fuckers. I want all those bastards to fucking pay."

Mrs. Ditther: "We'll do no such thing. We just wanted an exact count. I don't appreciate your attitude and language, young man. You're long overdue for a spanking. But first," she crouched down and manually examined his penis and testicles, "You have kept this little, er, I mean big, dick out of sight from me and your sisters for a long time, and now it's time we all had a good long look and feel. That's how it'll be from now on. Girls?"

As if on cue, Simon's 12 and 8 year old sisters (Melissa and Carol, respectively) walked up to him and examined every inch of him, especially his anus and genitals. Simon turned several shades of red as he realized that not only was his mother (his mother, no less!!!) making lewd remarks about his boy parts, but she and his sisters were seeing all of his most private areas in detail. They ignored his pleas and protests for some fifteen minutes before Mrs. produced a belt to "adjust Simon's attitude." She bent him over while everyone watched and proceeded to redden his buttocks with the strap. After 40 wacks, she had Carol, the 8 y.o., physically part Simon's buttcheeks while she accurately targeted the rectal orifice ten times. Simon was reduced to a balling mass of tears.

Simon regained his composure momentarily and asked if he could please get dressed and be untied. "My nuts itch something fierce. Please!!!" he pleaded. He wanted badly to scratch them.

Mrs. Ditther: "No, Simon. You're no longer allowed to wear pants, until your 15 in highschool. Is that clear?"

Simon: "But what will I wear to school and for outings?"

Mrs. Ditther: "Not to worry, Simon, of course you won't be naked for school and certain outings. Come along upstairs to your room and I'll show you your new wardrobe. Simon followed her eagerly, and, encouraged by this seeming restoration of some of his disenfranchised rights, he asked her if she could remove his bindings. "I will remove it presently, dear" came the answer, "But first you have to be briefed about the new rules."

They arrived in Simon's room, and the first thing he noticed was the open, almost barren closet: there were no clothes on the hangers. In fact, there were only shoes in the closet. Somewhat nonplused, he queried, "Where are my clothes?"

Mrs. Ditther: "Oh, those are only part of your school clothes, the rest are in here." She opened a dresser drawer, revealing socks. Simon's heart sank in his chest. "And the other drawers?" he asked, grasping at hope. She opened those as well, only to reveal a hollow shell of a drawer in each instance. They were desolate. Simon panicked.

Simon: "Where are my shorts? My pants? My underwear? My PJ's? I can't go around in just shoes and socks. Where are these 'school clothes' you talk about?"

Mrs. Ditther: "Oh, THESE are your school clothes. You can also wear them for certain outings. We threw the rest of your clothes away. You won't need those coverings again until you're fifteen."

Simon was livid: "Fifteen? That's years from now. I'm nine. Isn't it illegal for me to be nude in school?"

Mrs. Ditther: "Oh, you won't be nude. These will cover you feet. It's not as if you need covering elsewhere more than your feet, anyways. When you get to school, you will change to transparent sandals, so even your feet will be bare."

Simon: "It's not my feet I'm worried about. It's my dick and balls."

Mrs. Ditther: "Oh, they will be exposed as well--always."

Simon: "But I don't want them exposed. They're privates."

Mrs. Ditther slapped Simon hard across the face and exclaimed, "Enough of that, young man! You HAVE no privates. Boys have no privates and no need for modesty. Modesty is for girls and grown-ups; THEY have privates, not you. It's about time I tell you what's in store for you. You are now under new rules. Rule number one: You no longer are allowed to cover up your genitals at all. Anyone who wants to can see and touch them. They are now community property. If you see someone staring at your dick and balls or ass, give them a better look. Walk up to them and let them look closely. Ask them if they wish to feel them and examine them closely. Bend over, and let them do the same with your asshole. Understand?"

Simon was speechless. He only nodded, stunned at what he was hearing.

Mrs: Ditther: "Rule number two: You are no longer allowed to touch your dick and balls under any circumstances, without express permission from someone else...ANYone else. They are community property. They belong to everyone, with the single exception of you. I don't care if there's a spider on your dick. You are never to touch them. It would be theft. Do you understand me?"

But Simon DIDN'T understand. It all seemed so sordid and twisted, and a bit surreal. He said: "But then, how will I pee?"

Mrs. Ditther: "With permission. You must ask anyone around to help you or allow you to do it. Understood?"

Simon: "But how can my priv..., I mean, dick and balls, be everyone else's when they are on my body?"

Mrs. Ditther: "I'm getting a little upset at your impertinence. They are not yours, just because they happen to be on you. Understand? And you'd better say 'yes.' "

Simon began to cry again, but managed to choke out a "Yes!"

Mrs. Ditther: "Good! Now this rule does not pertain to your asshole or asscheeks, since you will need to shit and, more importantly, part your asscheeks for others to see, which will be happening a lot from now on. Rule number three: Anyone who wishes to film your body has that right and you have no right to refuse. So pose in any position they tell you. Make sure you bend over and show them that cute little pucker and ballsack. Make sure they get that nice little...er...big dick in the shot, and your face. Understand?...Well, DO you?"

Simon, sobbing, "Yes, yes, I understand."

Mrs. "Good. You will obey these rules implicitly or face a serious spanking for any infraction or deviation from the rules. Do I make myself understood, young man?"

Simon: "..What does dad have to say about all this?"

Mrs. Ditther: "Your father is on board with it. He readily agreed with us females, who came up with all of this. The girls from your class also had a lot of valuable input. So you have no wiggle room. Understood?"

Simon, barely audible and crestfallen: "Yes, understood."

Mrs. Ditther: "Very good, then. Now while we are on the subject of photographing you, I'm going to be doing a detailed photoshoot of you every month about this time so that the world can see how you are sexually developing, until you're fifteen. Run along downstairs for your first photo-session. I will unbind your hands when I come down."

(The End)