Sean Fraser's Predicament

Sean Fraser's Predicament 5

By Ritchie Moore

(I'll forward it to the author)

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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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Sean part 5

It was the second-last day of the term, and Nicola Patrick looked at her friend with a humorous question in her eyes. Marjorie looked back with a similar expression and tilted her head.

“Okay, Nicola, what is it?”

“It’s just that you looked at Sean there with a ... I don’t know, a sort of jokey look, a sort of challenge or something. And then he blushed absolutely crimson. So tell me, what’s the joke?”

Marjorie giggled. “All right, Nicola, I’ve been wanting to tell you for ages but didn’t get the right time. But you’re my best friend, my confidante, and I have to tell you, now you’ve seen his reaction.”

Nicola looked very interested and made a ‘come on’ gesture. “All right, what is it? Hey. Don’t tell me it’s connected with that rumour about him—”

“Exactly. We haven’t seen the legendary pics Sally was hinting about, but I’m in a position to tell you that Sean Fraser, who was stripped by his dad that time, or Sam Begley rather, but Mr Fraser laid into him, and dragged him half-naked to his car. I saw him then, and had to laugh! But the thing is, he’s still kept naked. And I’ve seen him.”

Nicola heard the horrid details with ever-increasing hilarity, and her hand stole to her crotch.

“Oh God! You touched him!”

“Yes. And made him come.”

“Oh Gawd!! You didn’t!” Nicola squirmed as she felt a bit moist in her panties. Marjorie laughed and said “Hold on, there’s more to come! He went in for a shower....”

Nicola’s eyes grew ever bigger and her eyebrows went up, while she began to feel short of breath. Marjorie recounted all her participation in the drying, the titillation, and the second ejaculation, ending up with Mrs Fraser’s invitation to visit.

“So he ... hey, it’s no wonder he blushed like a rose when he saw you. And wait! The hols are upon us. You’ve got an invite to the house, to see him! Mrs Fraser must be crazy to do that to him. But his father was so mad! And I suppose Mrs goes along with her husband as usual. Well.... Ahem! I don’t suppose that you’d think of taking your confidante along when you drop by, hmm?”

Marjorie grinned affectionately. “I don’t see why not. Between ourselves, I got the impression she’s very willing to expose her poor boy, all in the name of retribution, with a cover story of psychological improvement. That’s what Alison thinks, and it sounds about right. So for the foreseeable future, best friend, we are going to have a very interesting summer!”

They giggled together, and Nicola was sure her panties were wet.

“Oh, Mrs Fraser! Just a mo, if you don’t mind.”

She turned towards her neighbour. “Yes, Mr Carstairs! What is it?”

“I’m sorry to bother you, but I want you to ask young Sean if he can do some work for me.”

“Oh, surely! He’ll be happy to do it for you. What is it?”

“I wouldn’t have bothered him, I’m sure he’s got his own things he wants to do, but I’ve developed a bad back, and I—”

“Say no more! I know what it can be like. Don’t worry. I’ll talk to him as soon as he gets home. He’s out at the moment, with his friends – the first day of the holidays, what do you expect? But he said he’d be home by three. What sort of jobs?”

“Well, right now, just cutting the lawn. But I’m sure there’s other things he could help us with. I’ll really be grateful....”

“Not to worry! You’ll see him!”

The boy was scarcely nude before his mother bustled up from the basement and said “Ah, Sean dear, there you are! Listen, Mr Carstairs next door wants you to cut his lawn, he’s got a bad back, evidently, and it would be good if you could help him. You can do that, all right? Fine. Away you go. I’ll call you in for tea.”

He nodded and started to pick up his clothes.

“No, Sean, you don’t need to dress. The Carstairs said they don’t mind you being undressed. And you should get used to being outside like that, in the sun. Besides, you won’t get your clothes dirty. Away you go.”

He paused and sighed, then turned to leave, gritting his teeth. At least the Carstairses were so old as to be practically unnoticing of anything. He walked back outside and flinched as the warm sun struck his naked skin. Then a thought struck him, and he glanced back the several hundred yards beyond the Thomases’ house to where the next neighbours lived – the Blair family, with (gulp!) four daughters, four girls in their teens, why couldn’t they be infants or all grown up, like the Carstairs’ had to be? Well, he couldn’t see any activity, and they were far enough away, surely. Okay.

“Oh, Sean! How nice of you to come? Albert will be pleased.” Mrs Carstairs eyed him with a pleasant smile and came out to lead him to a rather ramshackle shed in a corner of the large front garden, which consisted of quite a few flower beds and a lot of grass, now beginning to look a bit long. “Here you are.”

She showed him the mower, and waved her hand at the garden.

“There it is. I know it looks a lot, but I’m sure a strong young lad like you will manage just fine. I’ll tell Albert you’re here and in a while he’ll be out to see you. We’re really grateful for this, Sean, you’re a nice boy.”

He blushed and shook his head, smiled at her, and turned to his task. Then he looked again at the far houses. Why couldn’t the old codger have a lawn at the back? Wait a minute, he did. And that would need cutting too. Oh hell, let’s get on with it.

As he worked he pondered the fragility of his secret. It was surely only a matter of time before his pals would learn about this business, and they’d hoot and poke fun at him – what else do friends do? He’d be the first to laugh if it was one of them. But for God’s sake, how does one react? What’ll I do, he thought, when that happens? And it will!

He breathed deeply and concentrated on the lawn. Inevitably, it wasn’t too long before the merry cousins showed up, to wave to him and bring their lemonade out to the verandah, where they sat contentedly and sipped and ogled him. He shook his head and ignored them. Thank God he couldn’t hear any remarks they were making.

“Ah, isn’t he adorable, Alexa? What d’you think, Kris, how does he shape up, how close is he to your idea of a hunk?”

Kristina drank a bit before replying. “Oh, I’m not sure at all, Vee. He isn’t much of a muscle man, is he? I’d rather he had a bit more ... hm, no, I wish he was a bit more beefy, maybe. As long as his necessary parts were there, big enough to be seen, big enough to function. That cock he’s got is six inches long when it’s up, right? That’ll do. But maybe if he was just a bit more endowed, say, nine inches? What about that?”

Her younger sister hiccupped a laugh. “Oh God! It looked enormous as it was! I don’t know how anyone could be nine, could use nine inches!”

The other two guffawed. “Lord,” said Veronica, “you’ve no idea! I mean, what he’s got is very reasonable, and I suppose it’s bigger than some, but it’s by no means near a record, though I shudder to think what the record might be. I wonder if Kinsey or anyone has researched it? What about the Guinness Book of Records? Anyway, your nine-incher might suit your muscle man, yes, though I think it’d look out of place somehow on poor Sean. You did notice his penis was about a couple of inches, that’s all, to begin with? Can you see it now?”

They all stared hard at the naked worker, who glanced up just then and stumbled, then studiously ignored them, wishing they would just go away. But then, by golly, they were waving goodbye and sauntering off, calling adieu. Oh, he’d forgotten they had planned to go to town to some show or other. Okay. Relax. Just get on with this.

He finished quite quickly after that, and Albert Carstairs came out rather slowly, looking his age and then some. “Oh, Sean, my boy, you’re doing very nicely. Is that you finished? Oh, then maybe you could do a bit of weeding for me. Those beds there. All right? Yes, those ones. Good. See, you’ll get a trowel and all sorts of tools in the shed. Fine.” He trundled off, and Sean thought he’d need his shower after grubbing about in the soil.

Fifteen minutes later, he realised that he was indeed getting quite dirty, and looked forward to a shower once he was finished. This took another half hour, by which time his sister and assorted friends had arrived. He said goodbye to Mr Carstairs and trudged back to the house, thinking suddenly that the girls might leer at him in the shower, and a groan escaped him as he opened the door. Of course, the minxes were all there, evidently waiting for him to arrive. Alison grinned cheerfully at him, saying her pals had come to visit, wasn’t it nice? He merely growled and passed them by on his way upstairs. His mother glanced out of the living room to say “Sean! My goodness, you’re a bit mucky, I must say! Up for a bath, I think. Not a shower, a full bath. It’ll relax you.”

He nodded grimly and went on up to the bathroom and turned on the tap. At least he was spared the trouble of undressing for a bath, it saved time enormously. He stood over the lavatory bowl to empty his bladder, and was not really surprised when the girls arrived, though he did start and nearly squirted pee over the floor. They ranged around the room looking at him very interestedly, for this was a sight they hadn’t seen. He looked at them belligerently. Who did he have for an audience now? It was the first lot again, who had sat in the parlour and laughed at his exposure of his cock and bum, who had eyed him salaciously at school for ages and now had him close again to inspect every inch. But wait. He was to have a bath. He wouldn’t be safe behind a glass door.

With a groan of resignation he turned off the taps and tested the water. Okay, a bit hot but that was the idea. He put his leg over the side and tipped a toe in, then got in completely and stood for a second looking at his audience, who were smiling at him in obvious enjoyment of the situation – they were there to be entertained by their plaything, and he had to endure it. Well, try to ignore them. Hah! Stupid boy! He sat down, and was oddly startled to see how they craned to catch a sight of his penis over the side of the bath. He looked down – don’t look up! Don’t catch their eyes! -- and took the soap in a hand that trembled (Why tremble? Amn’t I getting used to this exposure and ridicule?) and began to lather up his hands. As he put the bar back on its dish he noticed that the water was just enough to cover his privates, which peeked now and then out of it. At some point he’d be getting up on his knees, and they could stare at him as much as they wanted to. Then stand to do his bum properly, and they’d get a clearer picture. So what? Ah, but Christ, it was unbearable!

He finally stood in front of them, his body shining clean, and took a deep breath. There, they’d seen everything, again, and were they not satisfied? Oh God, no. They crowded round and flexed their arms, and of course their arms were bare in the weather, so they could quite easily deal with him without getting too wet. As it turned out.

There were seven of them, and they all took turns with him, Alison starting with more hot water, enough to cover him up to the waist, but she contented herself with washing his hair, and having nothing to do with his penis. She seemed to be quite unwilling to get too close to the shameful bits, and indeed Sean thought she was beginning to lose interest in them. Which would be a good thing of course, and the others? Oh no, they were a long way from tiring of ogling and tittering. And the chance of putting their hands on him. As they did. One after the other. All six, that is, were not slow in soaping his back, so hard to reach, and proceeding to his crotch, so easy to get at, oho! All six. Could he hold out? Of course not.

Jackie, fourteen and nine months, was a rather gangly girl with auburn hair cut rather short and thoughtful grey eyes. Her turn, the third, seemed to wake up his body to a trembling intensity that the other two hadn’t managed to create for some reason. Somehow or other he gave in to her ministrations, relaxed his self-control, and looked her in the eye as his penis erected to stand before them in a shamed pride. He was blushing so hard he could hardly breathe (and the thought, so uncoördinated and paradoxical, almost made him laugh) and then he thrust out his penis into her hands and came. She looked at him in a sort of possessive triumph and grinned at his surrender. Then she stepped back to watch with the others as he finished the ejaculation, making four spurts of semen into the bath water. After a minute the next girl stepped up to the wicket, black-haired Kate, fifteen and a quarter, and raring to try her luck. Of course she couldn’t get him up again, it was too soon; but she had a good time enveloping those fascinating parts in soapy hands and tickling the testicles of the first boy she’d had in her hands like that. Then came Maddy, who did manage to arouse the abused organ to some stiffness (at which the rest exclaimed in pleasure; they were hoping for this), and she was suitably congratulated. That’s as far as she got, however, and she made a personal vow that next time she’d be sure to get the result she wanted. Last came Melissa, at fourteen and a little bit the youngest of the crowd, with curly black hair and a persistently cheeky expression. She it was who did bring him up fully to as hard an erection as ever, and continued to ply his agonised body, on his crotch and his backside, those delicious glutei, till he gave a sort of groan and came again, watched by twelve eyes with excited amusement, and by his sister with some disdain. She was coming to the conclusion that she’d rather not see this cranky exhibition. Once or twice or three times was enough, surely? Too much of a good thing? But her pals lapped it up. Could she disappoint them?

Halfway through the last spurt they realised his aunt was hovering in the doorway. Sean’s eyes were closed in what seemed to be ecstasy, so he didn’t see her, otherwise it would have been a sad interruption. But there she was standing with folded arms, leaning as casual as you please against the doorpost with what had to be a tolerant smile on her face. After they’d all let out their pent breath she commented in a judicial kind of voice that the scene was rather interesting.

“I suggested you help him with his bath or shower, though I didn’t expect this. Not consciously, anyhow. Now it’s happened, though, I really think you should control it somehow. I think, Alison, you should decide if he should do it. Make it official, sort of. What’s the matter?”

The girl was frowning, with a hint of red in her cheeks. She looked at her red-faced brother.

“I ... wouldn’t be comfortable with that, somehow. Actually I’m not too keen on seeing it. Once or twice is enough. So –”

“Aha. Well, what about delegating the authority to one of your pals? Even varying it, so that others get a chance? How’s that?”

Alison’s face cleared. “That’s fine. Okay. Besides, they’re keener than me, I think.”

The other girls nodded, with giggles. Sean looked at them in horror. Wait a minute!

“Wait a minute!” he yelled. “Don’t I get a say in this? What are you doing?”

“Sorry, Sean,” said his aunt. “I’m merely trying to regularise this situation. Make it legal, sort of, as I said. It’s all to do with your parents’ desire to accustom you to being naked, losing your inhibitions, and so on. You’ll appreciate it in the end.”

She turned and went out, smiling to herself, and the girls looked at the boy, who sighed deeply and looked at the floor. There wasn’t much chance of his crazy parents cancelling the idea. He shivered, and they immediately got their towels ready to rub him down and warm him up. But careful! Would he erect again?

They escorted him to his room and left, giggling to themselves, and went out again to the verandah to laze and talk about the obvious.

“Well, Alison, your auntie is full of good ideas. Why are you so reluctant, though?”

His sister made a face. “It’s just that ... two things really. One, I’m his sister, and it’s something like incest. Though obviously it’s funny and all that, but I mean! I don’t want to tell him to wank his willie, not very often anyhow. I think it’s messy and – oh, anyway that’s it. He’s too close to me, and it’s a gruesome messy thing.”

“It’s dirty?”

“Yes, but not in the sense of ... obscene, or whatever. It’s only dirty in the mess it makes. Anyhow, I won’t be doing it, deciding when he should toss himself off. He’ll do that anyway, but—”

“But we can tell him other times!” Maddy cried in anticipation.

“Yes, Maddy,” said Alison, “and I think we can do it as Aunt Doreen said; I hereby name you as my deputy. For now. The entire posse of you,” she looked around at the eager faces, “will be able to tell the bossy bastard to wank himself, one at a time. The—”

She was drowned out by a storm of cheers. Her mother came out just then and wondered briefly what the approval was for, though she quickly put it together with the rather shocking news from her sister-in-law. “Does anyone want any lemonade, or anything?”

They all declined, and said they were due home, and left, still giggling. Jo looked at her daughter with a wry sort of grin. What was the little hussy doing now? She had a fair idea. “Come in, Alison,” she said, “and be nice to your brother. He’s having a rather trying time of it, you know.”

“Yes, mum,” said the girl, with an impish smile of her own. “I know.”

“Oh, by the way, James, you were saying a bit ago that your pool isn’t getting its full use – nobody much is using it.”

Rathbone nodded in some wonderment.

“Well,” said Peter with some hesitation, “I was wondering lf you’d mind someone else using it, my son to be precise.”

His colleague furrowed his brow, and nodded. “I suppose so. In fact, yes, I wouldn’t mind at all. Hey, wait a minute. Wasn’t it your son who caused that kafuffle the other day? Isn’t he a bit careless? I mean—”

“Yes, James, I admit it was he. But he’s being punished for it, and I think he’ll be more careful in the future.”

“Hmm. I don’t suppose he can get up to too much mischief in a swimming pool. Still. I think he’ll need some monitor, lifeguard sort of thing. But anyway, he’d be welcome.”

“Thanks. One thing I should tell you – his punishment consists in his being naked during his activities at home.”

“Good Lord. Absolute buff? Hah! That’ll sort him out. I fancy he’s a little more circumspect. So he’ll be okay with the pool.”

“But my point is that I’d like him to maintain his status even there. Let me be frank. I think it’ll be good for him to be naked outside our home. At your pool, for instance.”

Rathbone’s eyebrows went up. “My goodness! I see what you mean. Well, I suppose it could be done. Why not?”

“Thank you. There is one thing, though....”

“Ah Peter, I know what you mean. My three daughters might be affronted. Hmm! Well, in fact, I’m sure that if they happen to be around, they won’t mind too much. I may ask though, his status, as you call it, is intended as a humiliation. Isn’t it? So you don’t mind if he’s teased? As he will be, if my kids see him. They won’t mind, I’m saying, and in fact, would probably be all too interested. You have no objection?”

“Not if you don’t.”

“Fine then. Bring him along.”

“Another thing – it would be good, I think, if he didn’t come alone to a new place and new girls. Could his cousins come too? Three of them. Charming girls.”

“Why, certainly. You have a good point there. They’ll match my three nicely.”

“Excellent. – Wait though. What about your wife?”

“I wouldn’t worry about Louise. She’s alarmingly with it. Besides, I bet she won’t mind seeing a handsome naked youth hanging about the place. So it should be fine. When do you want to start?”

“As soon as possible, really. What’s convenient for you?”

“What about Sunday, noonish? A couple of days to prepare the girls, okay?”

“Right!”

=============

... “You’re joking, father. Come off it. A naked boy?”

Sixteen-year-old Dorcas threw her hands in the air.

“I’m not kidding. He’s a nice young fellow your own age, more or less. He’s being punished with nudity by his father for causing a rumpus at the mill. Peter Fraser is not a man to be trifled with. I must say I personally think this is a bit severe, but at least it’s painless. I’d have thrashed the little beast unmercifully myself.”

“I don’t believe you, father. But anyway, you’ll be nice to him when he’s here, and so will we. I speak for the others. Will I tell them?”

“I think I’d better do that. Lay down the rules and so forth. Till then you can think of what problems might arise.”

“Oh, yes. Yes!”

------

“Now that’s it. You follow the idea behind this business, and appreciate that things might get different around here. Why are you grinning, Betty?”

The twelve-year-old looked solemn. Then she smiled again, to say “I was just thinking that it’d be nice to have a naked boy to play with.”

Her father stifled a laugh and merely said “If nobody has any constructive criticisms, that is it. He’ll be here on Sunday, this coming Sunday, at noon or so. Be ready.”

He waved them away and settled down to his crossword. When Louise came in from the office (a small publishing house in town) she was just as amused as he’d expected.

“Ooh my, James, it’ll be fun! So the girls are looking forward to it, eh? So am I. A sight for sore eyes, I think. But how long is he going to be here?”

“We haven’t really decided that, but I suppose a couple of hours would do. How long does one spend in a pool anyway? If it’s good weather, and we are promised something like a heat-wave actually, and it may be here this weekend – I’d expect him (and the girls too, of course) to be lazing round the pool for a bit, getting a tan and so on. So say another hour or two. And we can send him home by four at most. How does that sound?”

“That should work. I wonder how he’ll take the news?”

“Oh God, dad, please, not another audience! It’s bad enough with bloody—”

“That’s enough! Your ‘bloody’ sister has nothing to do with this, and the fact that she’s taking advantage of your unfortunate situation is at once understandable and to be expected – and to be encouraged, in fact. You are going to enjoy a swim in Mr Rathbone’s pool, and be very gracious about it. You are going to be polite to the children. Do you remember meeting them a couple of years ago at the Barnaby concert? The eldest is Dorcas, sixteen just recently I believe, a fair-haired siren if I remember rightly. The next is Claire, who’ll be fourteen, a dark-haired charmer. Oh yes, they’re all rather pretty. Betty, the youngest, is another blonde, twelve years old and something of a whiz at school, as Rathbone keeps on telling me. He’s proud of his girls, they’re good-looking and smart, and they’ll actually be good for you to get to know.”

“Get to know! Oh God, yes!”

“I know what you’re thinking and you’re probably right, but frankly I don’t give a toss what you think. You have no say in this or anything else. Your aunt Doreen has evidently allowed Alison some latitude in how she deals with you and your baths and so on. That is quite fine by me. It’s all part of the punishment, which is the same as the therapeutic value of the exercise.”

“Therapeutic!”

“Yes, Sean, therapeutic. You know what we mean by this. I know it’s a trial to you, at least at first, but in the end— you don’t believe me, do you? You will eventually. End of message. Now off you go to see if Mr Carstairs needs more lawn-cutting. Or whatever.”

He watched the poor boy going over to the next property (rather cautiously as if to conceal himself at any moment) with a satisfied smile. It would all work out well. At the moment he could see, and Jo had agreed, that relations between the children were much improved, and Sean’s surliness towards his parents was a lot less noticeable. The losing of inhibitions, and coming to terms with modesty, would come in time.

(End of File)