Confessions of a Voyeuristic Mother Part 15

By Running Bare
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Copyright 2016 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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Voyeuristic Mother 15: My Nephew Scotty
by, Running Bare
 


I must admit even though I'm a woman and am supposed to have the legendary maternal disinterest in young boy's genitalia, I don't. I have an eleven year old nephew whose penis and little ball sack I simply used to enjoy seeing and finding reasons to fondle. When my sister, Bernie, gave birth to the boy I was completely enthralled at the fuss over making sure his circumcised member was properly doctored with antibiotic slaves until it healed. I wanted to put the stuff on because, as an eight year old girl, I'd never felt a boy's “wiener” and I was intrigued with checking him out. I'd offer, as often as I could, to change his diaper and apply the salve. He'd just lay there and kick his little legs while I pressed, squeezed, pinched and prodded his penis and ball sack. Of course, I'd find a reason to probe his anus as well. All the while, to the best of my knowledge, Bernie and Mom were oblivious to my drive to explore his intimate areas. I even got to bathe the boy and continued the fondling for years.
 
When Scotty was five, Bernie and Richard divorced. Richard took it a bit hard and has really not been in touch since the finalization. Scott has had to rely on other male figures for guidance. My dad has often had to be the one to take a belt to his bare backside when he needed it. He'd never done that to me so I was a bit perplexed at why he had to wear Scotty out in such a harsh way. Mom told us boys needed a tougher form of discipline and that Scotty's “wounds from a hard belting would heal and hopefully so would his soul.” I did, and still do, find hearing the crack of the belt followed by his agonized cry arousing. When I got to watch the whole thing I'd really get horny. Now that he's older, Dad usually makes him strip completely for his whipping and stay naked for hours afterwards to continue to “feel the burn”, and show the world (and I'm convinced especially Mom) he'd been properly disciplined. Mom tells me his penis more often than not stands hard and straight during those naked times. I, of course, long to be there when it's hard and flopping back and forth as he moves, but now that I'm on my own its been hard to be there to enjoy it. I'm aroused picturing those events in my mind when Mom describes the embarrassment the kid suffers as a result of his forced nakedness. Oh, to be back home and a part of that excitement. I haven't really seen the boy nude since he was nine.
 
Because of my limited experience with boys I can't be certain, but I'll bet my nephew's penis is the longest in the entire sixth grade. Those few times I've had the occasion of viewing other prepubescent naked boys, my memory of Scott's is that unless he's stopped growing he'd best them by at least a couple of inches.
 
Last month, Bernie and her latest creepy boyfriend were arrested for possession and the sale of crack cocaine. She got a year in the slammer. Scott was to be turned over to my folks, but Dad is in the latest stages of prostate cancer and is mostly bedridden, so Mom asked if I could take care of now eleven year old Scott at my apartment.
 
Here I am, just turned twenty, in a place of my own, and now I will have Scott in my care for a year. I agreed to guardianship so long as I could call the shots, and, if necessary, use the belt to straighten him out. (Actually, I could hardly wait to use a belt on his naked ass. I love the kid, but I also really love the hormone flow when such things happen.) I made it clear to Mom that I intend to use my pseudo parental power to satisfy some of my longings while I keep this kid. She agreed.
 
When Scott was eight or nine, he started to develop modesty. He started closing the bathroom door whenever he relieved himself and locked it when he bathed. He never changes his clothes in my presence. My favorite is when Mom used to force him to take his swimming suit off right on the crowded beach while she fumbled around looking for his underwear and shorts in her beach bag. It was so funny watching him try to wrap a towel around himself, and, just when he got it in place, Mom would whisk it away leaving him fully exposed to all the other beachgoers. He cupped his penis and balls, but that glans of his still poked it's way out from under his hands which weren't sufficient to cover it all. When that happened he'd cry and tell Mom to hurry up. I, of course, teased him and pulled his arms behind him so he was fully exposed to all. I was especially thrilled when complete strangers use those times as a cellphone photo op. He'd cry and his boner flopped around. I'd giggle and say, “What are you so worried about? Nobody here knows who you are. Let them see that beautiful package, Scott.” Mom just ignored us and continued to fumble for his clothes. Personally I think Mom knew exactly where they were, but chose to leave her gifted grandson on display.
 
All that ended two years ago. I don't know if Mom decided he was too old or Dad told her to be more sensitive to the boy's modesty. But I was going to return to the methods of yesteryear when he was under my charge.
 
I loved to look at the boy's legs. They are probably my second favorite in line after my memories of his penis and scrotum. Scott's legs are shapely and muscular and I often see people staring at them during the summer months when he wears shorts exclusively. I think Bernie knows they're good looking too as she never bought the kid shorts with hemlines below the top of his knees. And, the only swim attire she bought him were Speedo type suits that expose the bottoms of his butt cheeks. Until recently he didn't seem to notice most other boys his age weren't attired like that.
 
Call it fashion conscious or call it peer influence, but a year or two ago he started asking for board shorts and long baggy swim suits. Bernie refused to buy either. She told him he had a nice body and he needed to be proud rather than protective. I've heard her threaten to make him run naked if he didn't stop begging for the latest fashions. I intend to find ways to fulfill his mother's threat while he's in my care.
 
Recently, I was fortunate enough to stumble on a boys' shirt sale at our local department store. Most of the items were summer clearance. As I slid the hangers around on the rack looking for my nephew's size, I found a mesh t-shirt. It was just what he needed—a size larger than what he was currently wearing, but he could wear it until he grew into it. I was immediately drawn to the size of the mesh openings. They left little to the imagination. I immediately pictured him wearing the shirt and nothing but. It would definitely fall so the hemline would be between his knee and his lovely developing package. One could visualize that totally naked boy teasing people with a slightly distorted view of him in his entirety. That went into my cart without a second thought.
 
As I was checking out the clerk made the comment, “This is a very good buy at $5. I love seeing little boys displaying their chests and navels, they look sooooo cute in these.” Little did she know, but my plans were to expose things a little lower on Scott's body as well. “I believe we have more of this size in the back, would you like me to look?” Hell, she had to ask? Turns out in addition to the white one I got off the rack, she found a navy and two yellow ones on her search. I took them all.
 
“You know there is a rack of boys shorts on sale as well. They aren't the long one's that come down to their knees, but if you're like me I think boys' shorts should be short. I love those muscular little legs. Don't you?” I agreed. “I'm sure there are some in this size over there. You might want to look.”
 
“Oh, the shirts are a size too big. There weren't any on the rack in his size, but I figured he could grow into them.”
 
“Wish you'd mentioned that, I think there are a few in the smaller size in the back.”
 
What could I do? “Well, I'd take a few of them too, if you'd care to check.”
 
She left and returned with two whites and another navy. I added them to the pile.
 
“I guess your son will be wearing mesh exclusively, huh? A little cold for the winter.” She chuckled as if it was a joke. I was dead set on that being the case.
 
I felt the need to ask, “Can kids wear these to school?”
 
“Oh certainly, many of our boys wear them during the hotter months. The principal, Mr. Burgoyne, says, 'We let the parents dress them, we teach them.” Ahhhh, I was relieved and excited. “You might want to check out those shorts. They are really a great complement to these shirts.” She then added a humorous chide. “The only thing that might be better would be nothing on below. Now that'd get him sent home from school. I'm sure that isn't within the dress code.” I guess I wasn't the only one who appreciated naked little boys.
 
After paying for the shirts, I took a few minutes to peruse the shorts rack. I found two white pair and couldn't help but visualize him in them wet, no underwear, just the shorts. One navy pair remained. At 'buy one, get one free' I gathered the three in his current size and one larger white for him to grow into.
 
All the way home I just smiled. The new attire wasn't just for him to wear in the fall and spring, he'd be forced to wear those outfits year round. I didn't care how cold he might be, such things were warming for me.
 
“Did you see the underwear on sale?” She was quite the saleswoman.
 
My response? A lie mixed with projection of things to come. “No, he doesn't wear underwear very often. He likes to 'free ball' but I have to keep a check on his butt hole if you know what I mean. Those skid marks are hard to remove especially from white.”
 
“Oh my God, knowing that has made these shorts even cuter!” She folded them and placed them in a bag. “He's going to be one handsome little guy.” She held up the last pair and before she folded them remarked, “With these wide legs, every time he spreads, he'll be a one boy show. You'll love it.”
 
Little did she know the only times he'd be allowed the cover of the shorts, he'd be required to spread anytime he sat. In my memory he was at his cutest when he was embarrassed and humiliated and on display.
 
I was ready to leave the store as I was becoming quite warm with the very imaginings our conversation spurred. I was ready for my mother to deliver the boy the following day. On my agenda was giving him a bath and getting him into his new clothes, well, at least, one of the shirts, for the day. I wondered what Mom's reaction would be. If he was able to come with them, Dad, of course, would probably be in disagreement, but I was prepared to ignore him.
 
I was anxious to tell Scott I'd be giving him a bath. After all, what self-respecting eleven year old boy is going to permit anyone, much less his Aunt, to bathe him? My excuse for doing so would be, “Well, I'm going to be your caretaker and there will most likely be times you'll have to be naked in front of me (damned right there would), so we might as well get the whole 'shy' thing out of the way.” And, yes, I had every intention of “twittling his diddle” when I did. I wanted and would not be satisfied until he was sporting a full fledged boner. And, then I'd send him naked down to the living room with Mom and Dad. His first step in “coming out” naked and ashamed.
 
When they did arrive, Scott was pouting and carrying his suitcase. Little did he know there really wasn't much in there as far as clothes he'd be needing. I had purchased a whole new wardrobe for him. I stared at his beautiful boy legs, as much as those long shorts would allow, as they flexed on his walk up the sidewalk to the house. There was no doubt in my mind the boy was overdressed, but we'd soon remedy that, wouldn't we?
 
I told him his room basically had to be the living room as I was occupying the only bedroom. He was to sleep on the couch hide-a-bed. He was going to have to live out of his suitcase until I could find a place for his clothes (which I intend to be few and far between) and belongings.
 
He settled in front of the TV which was my signal to take Mom to my bedroom. I pulled out the bags of clothing I'd purchased. She “tsk'd” as she held up the shirts noting he would not wear them. My only response was my adamant denial that he had a choice. When she opened the shorts bag she just noted that “These are what boys of the seventies wore, legs cut right up to their butt cheeks. Kind of gay now aren't they?” Again, 'gay' or not he was going to wear them, and wear them exclusively. Mom liked looking at her grandson's body as well. In spite of all the “tsking” she just smiled and said he'd look good in them. But, she also predicted the battle I was going to have to get him to wear them.
 
Then I hit her with, “Not if you take his other clothes with you when you leave!”
 
She had a sheepish grin as she nodded her approval of the plan. She also asked if she couldn't come over for the “show” as often as she could get away.
 
You should have seen her face when I informed her that I intended to bathe him that very night.
 
Following our return to the living room I suggested that I could take him across the street to meet Jason, my ten year old neighbor. Scott, though definitely bored, was somewhat hesitant to do that. After all it was the “age of electronics” and meeting another young boy might lead to having to play and explore outside. Then again maybe, just maybe, Jason had some electronic games he could engage in as well. Anyway, after Mom and I almost insisted he go, Scott succumbed and we went across to engage in the introductions.
 
Jason spent most of his time running around shirtless during the summer. He wore cut off jeans for shorts like boys used to back in the sixties, seventies, and eighties. You remember, that was during the age of austerity, when parents felt winter jeans could be cut off and used for spring, summer and fall as well. Fashion was trumped by the family budget. What I liked about the cut off idea was that Mom could trim those shorts right up to their boy's ass if they wanted and the more frequently they were washed the shorter they got. Like I said boys' legs were very eye catching to me. Jason was a bit stouter in the leg department than Scott, but certainly not fat. They were shapely, tanned, and muscular and were not by any means unattractive. When he's sit cross legged on the front lawn those shorts would ride up almost exposing his crotch. Never saw his jewels though, but it wasn't from not trying.
 
Once they were introduced, Pam, Jason's mother, invited me in for coffee. Though I appreciated the offer I had to excuse myself to return to my mother. Before leaving though, I suggested that Scott lose his shirt like Jason. Pam reassured him it'd be alright stating that Jason hardly ever wore a shirt at home. He didn't want to, but I insisted by finally saying, “Give me your shirt, I'll take it home”. He relented. I wondered by his embarrassment at the idea of being shirtless in front of his new acquaintances how he'd handle it when he was introduced to Carla, Jason's twelve year old sister. Sorry, I was going to miss that. Scott being half nude would definitely be uneasy about it. But, hey, it could have been worse. The half nude was waist up, not waist down like I longed for it to be.
 
Pam called and invited Scott to stay for dinner. She told me the boys spent the day playing out in the woods behind their house. I was happy they were outside for a few hours and was truly happy he was getting on with Jason. My permission was granted with a request that she send him home for a bath at seven. I made use of the time he was gone to send all his clothing back with Mom. She was more than happy to help with that plan, but requested I take a lot of pictures of him in his new attire. I really believe she was as anxious to see her grandson naked or nearly so as I was.
 
With the apparent friendship of the boys, my audience for the initial complete exposure of the boy was looking to be in place. I wondered how he'd take being naked in front of Jason and/or Carla, but I was committed to finding out. I figured Pam might have the accepting attitude she was somewhat expected to have as a mother, but I hoped she'd share my thrill at exposing the eleven year old the scrutiny of the community. In my mind Pam and Jason would be the first besides me to see Scott in his entirety. I could only hope Carla would be there as well.
 
Scott came home shirtless. He had dirt smears on both legs and his knees were black from dirt. I told him we needed for him to get cleaned up so he was ready for bed. I included the instruction to go into the bathroom and strip and that I'd be in to supervise his bath. Yep, he caught the last part. He nervously just said, “That's okay, I can take care of it myself.”
 
“I think we need for me to be a part of the whole bathing thing, until I'm certain you can do a proper job. I need to inspect you for ticks and you probably have contacted some poison ivy in your exploration. Just go in and call me when you've undressed. Put all your clothes in the hamper.”
 
“It's okay Aunt Vicky I can check myself and I'll do a good job. I'm eleven you know not five.”
 
I took this chin in my hand and said, “Just go in there and get all your clothes off and call me when you're naked so I can have a look. Then I'll get those legs clean and...”
 
I must admit the kid was direct, “I don't want you to see me naked. I can do all that myself.”
 
“Nobody asked what you want Scott. As long as you're here and we both know it'll be at least a year, you'll do what I tell you. You will be my charge and sooner or later I'm going to see you naked. Tonight is the sooner and I don't want any lip or I'll get one of Grandpa's belts and you know what that will mean. Now GO, the clothes off or do I need to undress you too?”
 
He pouted but left for the bathroom. I heard the door lock and I was getting a bit pissed off about his defiance. I bent open a paperclip inserted it in the hole to unlock the door. When I finally pushed it opened Scott stood there with a completely surprised look. Yes, he was nude but managed to grab his shorts and was holding them in front of his package. I began by blasting him for locking the door and instructed him that unless I told him so, he'd have to leave the door opened until further notice as I couldn't trust him to close it without locking. I grabbed the shorts and whisked them away. His hands rapidly covered his crotch. As he stood there clutching his boyhood I couldn't help but admire his smooth lines and cream colored skin. His face wasn't cream colored though, it was red with embarrassment.
 
“Oh stop it! Put your hands down! I've seen your penis many times. I used to change you a lot. I said, put your hands down and get over here so I can look you over for ticks.”
 
I suppose he decided it was inevitable and he complied. His long appendage was stiff and sticking out parallel to the floor. For an eleven year old the four inch boner was a bit impressive, at least to me. I twirled the boy around and started on his backside. I kind of wanted him to think his item of interest was really that interesting to me, but it was.
 
I examined his scalp, pushing the hairs around in a similar fashion as a mother would looking for head lice. I really would have been surprised to find a tick. I traced down his back with my fingers and finally got to his absolutely irresistible bottom. I spread those tight dimpled cheeks and traced down the boy's crack with my index finger. I couldn't help but encircle his tight little anus with my finger tip, “Bend over for a second”. He did and I pressed lightly against the opening, then with a tap to his hip, “Okay straighten up.” I used my palms to trace down the boys long, smooth, muscular legs and then turned him around to face me.
 
Acting completely disinterested I order him to put his arms up. Looking in his armpits I traced down his torso. Ah, his erect penis, I grabbed it by the well shaped glans and lifted it as if to examine the underside and ball sack below. I swear I heard my heartbeat quicken. I then pressed gently against his testes and pinched the bottom of the boy's scrotum. Pulling it out and lifting I looked beneath. Any excuse to feel his boy parts was good but this was the best. During this part of the ordeal Scott just stared up at the ceiling. As I had on the back of his legs, I palmed the front as I traced down.
 
“Okay, now let's get you cleaned up.”
 
“I can wash myself!” He was emphatic.
 
I had gotten to fulfill the lion's share of my desires during the examination, so I relented. I told him he cold go ahead and shower or he could take a bath, but I'd inspect to make sure he was clean. Picking up his shorts, socks and underwear I told him to call me when he was done. I hadn't really given much thought to sleep attire and decided there was no reason an eleven year old boy couldn't sleep nude. That would be rude awakening number two. After making that decision and while he was still engaged in his bathing, I imagined inviting Jason for a sleep over and making Scott sleep nude. Of course, I wouldn't be presumptuous enough to make Jason do the same, just Scott. I kind of hoped that would eventually make Scott's boy parts playthings for Jason. I'd heard somewhere that prepubescent boys often engaged in mutual exploration of sexual nature and I could only hope Scott would be the recipient of such play. Not to mention, I'd love to be able to watch it. Only time would tell.
 
Fifteen minutes later Scott emerged from the bathroom with a towel tightly bound to his waist. “I'm done, Aunt Vicky.”
 
I motioned for him to approach me as I sat on the couch that would be converted later that night for his bed. I gently removed the towel and watch the boy's penis rise as I looked him over. “You did a good job there buddy.” I lightly slapped the side of his left butt cheek. “Now, let's see what's on TV.”
 
“What am I going to wear?”
 
“Well, I guess I just thought you might sleep naked. I mean a lot of boys and men do. I don't have any pajamas for you and Grandma took your clothes back with her, because I told her I bought you all new stuff.”
 
“You got some underwear I can put on?”
 
“No. I thought you were adventurous. You know a 'free baller'--someone who didn't wear underwear. All I have is shorts and shirts.”
 
“I can wear some shorts.”
 
“You could, but those are for during the day not night sleeping. They'd be uncomfortable to sleep in.”
 
“No they wouldn't. I've slept in shorts and jeans before. I can just put them on and I'll be fine.”
 
“What I'm trying to tell you is you're going to be sleeping nude for now so let's just accept that and look at what might be of interest to you on TV.” I patted the cushion next to me and said, “Here. Just sit down and relax.”
 
He continued to make the argument that he could sleep in shorts and I tuned him out. I wanted the opportunity to massage his naked form and particularly his sex organ. I just wanted to roll my hands around on his pubis, grab it and pull on it. “I said, sit down here Scott and quit whining.” He plopped down with a few tears springing forward. My hand immediately welded itself to his upper thigh within inches of his penis which was shielded between his tightly closed legs. I moved my palm along the entirety of his thigh in light strokes. After a few minutes, I slid my fingers between his closed legs and dragged the tips along the top of his tightly extended penis. He didn't say a word, but did try pressing his legs together even more tightly in an attempt to ward off my fondling. More work on the top of his smooth thighs resulted in a second attempt to free his hard on. This time I actually took his leg and pulled it to separate it from the other. He resisted and I finally just said, “Spread your legs”. Surprisingly, he opened them slightly and stopped fighting my intrusion. I rubbed his inner thigh and eventually was able to give his phallus some attention. I remember the feel of that very soft but stiff member as I slid my closed fist up and down in a masturbatory action. The touch of that rubbery glans and my thumb pressing the urethral opening sent my hormones raging. Finally Scott spread his legs considerably almost in an invitation for me to continue attending to his genitalia. Who was I to object?
 
It was important that I sent the message that his penis and scrotum weren't any more or less important than other parts of his handsome body (of course we know that wasn't the case, but...), so I'd regularly shift my attention to less controversial parts of his body—back, legs, arms, head—but always returned to his penis.
 
“If you want to lay across my lap, I'll do your back, bottom and the back of your legs for you.” Again, a ploy to make him comfortable with frontal stimulation as well. He moved quickly to put his penis out of sight and reach. I had his two firm, dimpled butt cheeks staring me right in the face as he draped himself over my lap. I tickled and rubbed his back, backside and legs for a long time. I found myself kneading his butt cheeks firmly and exposing his rosebud as I did. He just stared silently at the television. I don't know if he was truly mesmerized or just accepting the touch without objecting, but either way I was fine with it.
 
That was our first night. Scott helped me unfold the bed from under the couch. As we put the linens on I was completely entertained watching his now flaccid boyhood flop around as we worked. He crawled between the fresh sheets, I kissed his head, told him that I loved him, reassured him that he was a good looking boy, and called it a night.
 
I retired to my room and went over the accomplishments of the day. For a moment or two I wrestled with the inappropriateness of what I'd done that night, but as I said it was just a fleeting moment. What really got my juices flowing was planning for the morning and how he'd take having only a mesh shirt to wear. I looked forward to making him present himself to Pam and her kids with that limited attire. But how would I prepare Pam for it?
 
That night I found myself creeping into the living room and carefully pulling the top sheet off my sound asleep nephew. His various positions during the hour or so I exposed him shifted from side to side but never seemed to end with him on his back with a clear view of his boy stuff. I was frustrated as I had my camera ready and was fully prepared to start the process of recording his beautiful nude body to share with Mom. I did manage to get one or two shots of his long flaccid member draped loosely over his tight little ball sack. Funny, but taking pictures of him wasn't as arousing as I thought it would be. I longed to show him to other people in the flesh so they could not only enjoy the sights, but also get the feel of the boy, literally. Watching that definitely would be a turn on.
 
The next morning Scott, wrapped in a bed sheet, entered the kitchen asking for clothing. I really think he had a half a notion that asking me for something to wear was going be unproductive. I wasn't one to disappoint. “If you lose the sheets and sit here for breakfast, I'll go up and get you something to wear.” He did and I did.
 
I selected one of the yellow mesh t-shirts and brought it to him. As I tossed it with a “Here, you go, Kiddo” he eagerly snatched it from the air.
 
“What about pants?”
 
“That's it. You need to try it on. No pants, no shorts, no underwear, just the shirt.”
 
“I can't wear this without pants. Look people can see right through it.”
 
“That's the idea Scott. I want to share my beautiful nephew with others.”
 
The boy was livid, “I want to go back to Grandma's. I can't wear this I might just as well be naked.”
 
“Going to Grandma's isn't an option. You will wear this shirt and nothing but until I tell you otherwise. Get used to it. I don't know what your problem is, Scotty. Your wiener is longer than most boys your age. You should be proud of it not ashamed. Let people see what a 'man' you are.”
 
After slipping on the shirt, the boy just stood there and as planned showed a sightly obstructed view of his prepubescent package. That cute bulbous circumcised head was prominently displayed at the end of his now wooden little rod. I took the time to reach under and push it through one of the holes in the mesh about two inches above the hemline. It looked so cute. He impulsively moved to pull the shirt outward to allow the fully exposed phallus to retreat to it's original spot beneath the skimpy covering. I stopped him. “No, no, you leave it out. It'll go back under all by itself when you lose the stiffy. Let it do it all by itself. In fact, whenever I see you with a stiffy, I'm going to push it through just like that. You look soooo cute that way. Here let me get a picture of you.” I grabbed my camera, his face showed the shock of what was happening. He covered it with his hands. “Either you move your hands and smile or I'll take the whole damn thing off and whip the fire out of your bare ass. Got it?” I was getting pissed dealing with his insolence. He began crying and I began shooting photos from every angle. God, Mom was going to be very happy. I even entertained the idea of sending some to Bernie in jail. Wonder if I had if she would have gotten in trouble. Mom loved them.
 
All this hands on and forced nudity was fun for me and truly did get my juices flowing, but I wanted even more so to send him outside and begin the whole voyeuristic experience. I got very choked up as I began putting the exposition in action. “Scott, I want you to go out and mow the front lawn. Be sure to trim the shrubbery and edge the sidewalk. And you keep that cute little penis poked out until it goes soft.”
 
“I'm not going out there.” He was still tearful.
 
“I want you to get the lawn mowed and I'm not going to say it again.” I grabbed his arm and pulled him to the front door. He dug his heels in. It took all that I could muster to push his half naked ass out the door. He immediately crouched on the doorstep and assumed a fetal position with the shirt actually draped over his knees as well. That was all I needed. I grabbed the belt and began swing away at the boy right there on the porch. He lifted his arms in a defensive posture and in my zeal I'm sure I gave them a few welts. I was so frustrated with his fight against my voyeuristic pleasures I hit the kid anywhere the belt would land—shins, arms, side, hips—anywhere but the face. After six or seven contacts, he relented and stood up. Again, I noted a boner beneath the clothing. Again, I pulled the penis through a hole in the mesh and told him to keep it out until it went soft again. With the belt in hand I purposely stood him in the middle of the front yard facing the street. I certainly hoped the neighbors were looking out their living room windows so I could get the show started. “You stand here. Put your hands behind your back.” He did. “I'll go and get the mower, clippers and edger. You just stand here and don't let me see you move. Not one bit. I'll take this belt and everyone will see you getting our ass beaten, if you so much as move. Let them see that cute little penis. You understand me?” He sniffled and choked out a, “Yes.”
 
As Scott started mowing, Jason crossed the street with his eyes bulging and mouth agape. The shirtless neighbor approached as I watched from in the house. I could tell the conversation was centered on Scott's state of dress. Jason's surprised expression remained that same as it had when he originally crossed the street. Shortly, Pam came out on her porch and summoned her son home. They chatted and then both crossed the street. I let Pam talk to Scott a bit and then I joined them.
 
As the boys talked, Pam took me by the arm and we walked away from them. Out of earshot of the boys, she directly questioned why I allowed Scott to be “half naked” in front of the “whole world”. I merely told her he was eleven years old and his modesty issues were driving me crazy. I had decided to fight all the modesty shit with forced nudity. Scott would be at least partially naked at all times when he wasn't in school.
 
She asked if I didn't feel doing that would kind of screw him up. My response was, “No more than he'll be screwed up if he doesn't get over the modesty thing. After all, we both know boys shouldn't be modest. They are very different from girls as far as times they'll be expected to be naked in front of others.” Then I put the icing on the cake, “Besides, have you seen how hung the little dude is? I mean he shouldn't even have the shirt filtering the view.” I went on to level with her, “You have no idea how horny doing this with him makes me? I mean you oughta try it with Jason. Making some little dude display his goods publicly is quite the aphrodisiac. You should try it. At least humor me and give Scott's boner a feel or a tug. You'll be hooked on the idea for life. I mean it Pam, my horniness level is off the scale with him on display.”
 
She confided with me that the thought of making Jason do something similar was a bit arousing for her. But, she also said she wasn't sure she could go through with something like that, not to mention, the fear of legal repercussions should one of the self-righteous do-gooders call the cops.
 
Pam argued, “Aren't you afraid Scott will get accosted? I mean there are a lot of perverts out there.”
 
I shrugged off her observation and just said, “So?” I wasn't too concerned as most people would label me perverted for doing it to Scott in the first place. “He's eleven. He can ward off anything like that. I'll be close by should the need arise.”
 
She was relentless. I think because she too wanted to make her male offspring leave his cutoffs behind. “Well, what about all the cellphone cameras out there today. He's gonna get photographed for sure. Doesn't that bother you.”
 
“Actually, I'll be honored that anyone would find my nephew so interesting and appealing that they wanted to photograph is naked form. He's beautiful and I want the world to know it. Besides, how many of those potential photographers even know who he is? I mean, what's the harm. They know a good looking well hung kid when they see him. Let 'em take the damn pictures, videos or whatever. Who cares? Maybe I'll make Scott pull up his shirt or even take it off completely, if there's that much interest, huh? Hey, maybe we could use 'his penis in every pic' as a slogan.”
 
With that closing remark, Pam laughed. “Don't get me wrong I love it. I'm just sayin' you might get your ass in a jam if you're not careful, that's all.”
 
Scott pushed the mower back and forth across the front lawn. He continued to shed tears and his nose was running pretty fluidly. I couldn't help but notice the briskness in his step. As I sat on the porch steps my heart beat faster as some of the passing motorists actually stopped at the curb and check out what they were seeing was real. Others evidently decided to circle the block rather than being so obvious. Two little girls, must have been eight or nine, stopped their bikes on the sidewalk and just giggled as they watched him. “Hey, where's your pants?” Scott ignored them. “Hey, lady your son is naked under that shirt!”
 
I responded, “Yeah, isn't he cute? He likes to be naked. You think I should let him be that way?”
 
The older looking girl just hollered, “Yep. Can we bring our friends over to see him?”
 
“Sure. He'll be naked almost all the time. Scott, lift your shirt up show the girls your peepee.”
 
He ignored me. I angrily repeated. “Lift up your shirt for the girls.”
 
He turned and gave me an exaggerated angry look. I returned the stare with a bit of threat mixed in. He quickly raised his shirt flashed his penis at the girls. At the same time I was treated to a quick view of his bare, tight and dimpled ass. “Now was that so hard to do?” I knew it was. He just resumed his mowing without comment.
 
They pointed and giggled again before peddling off I guess to round up their friends.
 
The following afternoon, Pam and Jason came over to the house. We left the boys with their electronic toys in the living room. I made Scott remove his shirt so he was completely naked and Jason, well Jason, was wearing his usual attire cutoff shorts, no shirt, and flipflops. He sat cross legged on the area rug, while Scott sat on his heals with his sizeable appendage tucked between his legs. Pam and I retreated to the kitchen for coffee.
 
I did manage to keep and eye on the two boys from my vantage point. It was clear that Jason was trying to talk Scott into spreading his legs. He kept glancing at Scott's closed crotch as he wiggled around pressing the buttons on the game he was playing. It was clear he had designs on playing with another button. One that wasn't on an electronic device. If my observation was correct, I wanted Scott to allow it, but more importantly, I wanted to watch it. Oh, God, to watch Jason fondling Scott would definitely make my day. Only problem? Pam. Would Pam allow her somewhat unrestrained son to diddle around with my nephew's penis, ball sack and anus? Did I dare ask or should I just mandate Scott to be available to Jason's exploration? I couldn't even attend to Pam's conversation I was too involved in unfolding the dilemma in my mind.
 
“Scott, honey, why don't you take Jason into my room to play? His Mom and I will have coffee. Just keep the door open so you can hear us if we call.” I wanted the door open in case I (we) might get to witness what I'd fantasized.
 
They did move to my bedroom. I was quite anxious to see what if anything the semi-privacy it afforded the boys would yield as far as sex play. Pam's back was to the boys, but I had a direct and full view of the room. As Pam talked I'd catch myself glancing into the room without hearing a word my neighbor was saying. Then it started. Completely oblivious to my attention, Jason started poking Scott in the belly with his finger. All of his target areas were below Scott's navel. Scott did his best to ward off the attack. He was still sitting on his heels and shielding what I'd bet a dollar as a long boner between his legs. My attention to them or my lack of attention to her caused Pam to turn around to see what I was looking at. She began to call a stop to Jason's poking, but I silently stopped her. I whispered to “Leave them alone. It's all perfectly innocent. Jason's just interested in what Scott's got going on between his legs. It's all boyhood curiosity. Let's just watch and see what happens.”
 
Neither boy was aware that Pam and I were attending to their play. Jason finally got frustrated and pushed Scott backwards. When Scott had landed on his back, he'd freed the stiffy I had already predicted he'd developed. Jason again began poking my nephew's pubis with his extended fingertips. He'd make playful exploding noises as he did so. Scott for some reason had abandoned his protective posture and simply lie there with his pole pointing upward. I couldn't stand it anymore. I had to encourage Jason to grab Scott's hard-on. It was clearly evident he wanted to but was restricted by his sense of propriety. My situation was such that I had to make sure Pam wouldn't freak out but my complacency should I deliver an invitation to Jason to indulge himself.
 
When I turned to survey Pam's facial expression after she'd watched the boys' interaction I detected a snide grin which I took to mean we were both on the same page. I walked to the doorway to my room. Scotty was still on his back with his appendage sticking straight up and Jason sitting cross legged at Scott's hip looked up a bit embarrassed. “You boys be careful. No rough stuff with the boy parts.” I wanted to send the signal it was okay to play with the targeted parts, but, at the same time, keep things a bit uncertain. That way should the story be told I had some room for deniability.
 
I walked back to the kitchen and sat down at the table. Pam was turned and smiling at her son who now was aware of our ability to observe the goings on. Then she muttered her own permission, “Jason you be careful, especially if you're touching Scott's penis or little sack. Don't hurt him down there.” I couldn't believe my ears. She had just given her son permission to pursue his desires. It was clear that Jason was a surprised as I was. For a few moments the two boys just grinned at each other. Scott lying on his back, legs spread, and hands behind his head and Jason staring blankly at his friend's erection.
 
We momentarily went back to acting as though we were engaged in conversation, but I couldn't help but strain to watch what would happen next. Pam, with her back to the activity watched for my cue to sneak a glance. The boys talked and Jason placed his hand on Scott's upper leg. The boys giggled and Jason slid his hand closer and closer to the item of his interest. I cleared my throat and Pam turned to look. This time her attention caught Scott's attention. He reached down and covered Jason's creeping hand with his own as if to stop the action.
 
“Jason don't you hurt his penis. Be gentle.” Shit, Pam was really into it as well.
 
That was all it took. A simple instruction from his mother. He brushed Scott's hand away and grabbed the hardened appendage. A quick squeeze and then a yank. Scott grunted as if it hurt.
 
“Gentle boys, gentle!” Pam cautioned.
 
And so it began. Jason played with Scott's penis and scrotum for ten minutes or so. Both boys giggled off and on during that exploration. Then Pam made another astonishing pronouncement.


“Jason, why don't you take your shorts and underpants off too. If Scott has to be naked, so should you. It's only fair.”
 
It was clearly evident that Jason wasn't going to go down that road, at least at that time. He shyly shook his head in refusal. I was anticipating how great it would be to have both boys naked as the day they were born and engaged in fondling and exploring each other. I wanted to watch and I wanted to record the goings on for future reference.
 
“Jason, either take off your clothes or leave Scott alone. If you are going to play with him, he should be able to play with you. Either take off your pants and underpants or keep your hands to yourself.”
 
Frankly, I thought she should be a little more forceful and make her son's disrobing a requirement not an option, but I kept my feelings to myself. I mean grabbing a belt and tearing him up until he complied would have been not only proper, but welcomed as far as I was concerned.
 
Scott continued to lay there spread eagle. He was smiling up at Jason and he began to tease him. I couldn't get over the comfort level the kid had achieved in such a short time. Jason grinned and yanked Scott's penis once more. Scott gave a rudimentary grunt. Pam for some reason flew off the handle.
 
“Jason, get your ass in here now.” The boy responded immediately to his mother's order. He approached timidly. Pam pulled him around to face her and with her hands on his hips gruffly asked, “What did I tell you?”
 
Lamely, the boy tried to answer with a simple, “To leave Scott alone.”
 
Pam yanked on the boys shorts as she countered, “I said, if you want to play with Scott, he should be able to play with you.” The boy's shorts and underwear were then yanked down to his ankles together with one swoop by his somewhat angry mother. “Step out of them.” He did.
 
I was looking at a well rounded little boy ass with pronounced tan lines from just below his cheeks and at lower waist level. I must admit was eager to see what the other side brought to the party. Though I couldn't see his face, I was sure he was embarrassed and humiliated by what had just happened.
 
It was as if Pam read my thoughts. With a sheepish grin, she turned him to face me. Rather abruptly I was presented with the sight of another circumcised knob topping off a hard two and a half inch shaft. His ball sack was approximately the same as Scott's, but the sight of Jason's extended dick just further verified my nephew's uncommon length for boys that age. “Now you stay that way until I tell you to get dressed. Go play with your friend.” With her son's back to her, Pam winked and smiled at me. “Go on, go let Scott feel yours.”
 
Though I was excited at the prospect of watching the boys fondling each other, I was in complete shock at how forward Pam's instructions were. She'd actually told them to engage each other in such activity.
 
Scott had since risen to his knees and was watching his naked friend slowly work his way back to the bedroom. Under the circumstances I told the boys they could return to the living room so we could watch that they didn't hurt each other while they “grabassed”.
 
There was an air of excitement as Scott bounded into the living room. Jason, still shocked, slowly wandered in. Scott immediately grabbed Jason's item of interest and gave it a yank much the same as he'd had done to him a few minutes before. Pam and I returned to our positions on the couch to watch as the boys literally played with each others still undeveloped packages—squeezing, poking and pulling.
 
As I think back, I realized how much our acting disinterested encouraged them to do whatever to each other. It was as if we'd lifted a taboo and in doing so liberated the exploratory drive the each had. Eventually, the body exploration stopped and they both sat on the area rug with their legs crossed, completely unaware of the clear view of their now flaccid prepubescent packages. Their attention returned to playing handheld electronic games.
 
Pam's observation will forever echo in my head, “They really are cute that way. Let's keep 'em that way.”
 
I ended up giving Pam a couple of Scott's mesh shirts. I did mention Scott would be wearing his to school while free balling in his short shorts. She, of course, used Jason's signature cutoffs under his for school. While at home both boys were either completely nude or wore nothing more than the mesh shirts. Contrary to expectations most of our neighbors loved the sight. There were, of course, a few who feigned indignation at our dress code for the boys, but who the hell cares? It did turn out that the indecent exposure ordinances applied only to teens and adults, not prepubescent kids. We know that for a fact, because one or two of those prudes did cause an investigation by Children's Services. Much to their dismay we came through it unscathed and to rub it in we made the boys romp around outside completely nude. The boys didn't (and still don't) like it, but their discomfort is secondary to the need Pam and I have to making those few prudes uncomfortable.
 
At least twice a day one or the other of us make the boys undergo a massage. Just depends on whose house they are in.
To satisfy my voyeuristic enjoyment, two of the neighbor girls—one twelve the other fourteen—are often enlisted to administer the massages. After watching those young ladies exercise complete access to the boys' bodies, all I can say is don't let anyone tell you they are innately disinterested in exploring. They center their time on penises, ball sacks and even anuses during those massage sessions. And, Pam and I continue to make the boys succumb to the girls' intrusions even over their adamant complaining. I only wish you could watch our videos.




   
   
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