Just Call Me the Tease

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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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Just Call Me the Tease

By, Running Bare

Did you ever think about how life is a series of contradictions? Mine was from about eight years old to my current age. I think my most notable dichotomy is my body shyness versus the desire to be exposed publicly.

To really analyze the beginnings of this give-and-take, I’m taken back to my childhood when my mother, father, aunts and uncles would nonchalantly require me to run around naked before whomever might be present. I wasn’t alone. Boys in our extended family were all made to be naked at “appropriate” times like swimming, and, at times, occasionally between bath and bedtime or for outdoor play. Seems it wasn’t such an uncommon thing back then. Mothers loved showing off their boys’ bodies and fathers felt it was a necessary step to becoming a grounded adult male.

I began questioning my nudity at eight years of age. I really think it began with noticing none of the other seven year olds, boys or girls, on the public beaches was required to romp in the surf naked as the day they were born save me. I also noticed others were entertained watching my exposed equipment as it flopped around and occasionally rose to the situation. Thus, my eighth year was the dawn of my self-consciousness and the accompanying rebellion against all things naked. I had become much more argumentative with my parents. Eventually, they relented and I became the proud owner of a bathing suit.

That was the year when I began to notice the amount of “interest” in my nudity while at public venues. For years I had been completely oblivious to the amount of picture taking that went on when I was romping freely on the ocean front. But, at age eight, it caught my attention. People I didn’t know were very openly seeking my naked form in the viewfinders of their cameras. Other attention that had eluded me was the fact that most adults, especially women, most of whom I didn’t even know would hold my naked hips between their hands as they squatted down to talk to me. More often than not, my penis was at eye level. I must admit, when they talked they did make eye contact enough that I wasn’t made self-conscious enough to use the classic line, “Hey, my eyes are up here.”

From early on, even back when I was often forced to be naked in front of others, I was aware that girls were more interested in my penis and testicles than most of the boys were. Other than the occasional question from a fellow male as to where my swimsuit was, there was rarely physical contact with my penis or scrotum. Not that I wasn’t groped by some of them it was not nearly as frequent as with the girls. The girls would uninhibitedly grab and pull on my penis or finger my balls to the amusement of any adults who might be present. Sometimes they’d be encouraged to do so by the adults. Oh sure, they’d caution them to “be careful” or “don’t hurt him”, but no question about it the grownups were amused at the exploratory behavior and questions the girls would often put forward. It wasn’t uncommon for younger girls to actually ask, “How come I don’t have one?” Again, from birth to seven and even eight years of age, I tended to ignore it all thinking it was a normal plight for boys. The manhandling was an annoying interruption to my play, but I accept it as normal. Hell, at times I’d even thrust my hips forward to accommodate playmates’ contact.

As I think back, girls always handled my goods in a way that showed curiosity. You know, “What does it feel like?”; “What’s in the bag? Feels like jellybeans.”; “How hard can I pull it?” Where boys who took the same liberty would almost assess it. They seemed to mentally compare it to their own. But truthfully no matter which gender took it in hand, I usually liked the feeling of being felt.

Being nude in public during those early years rarely resulted in a spontaneous erection. When it did happen, I ignored it and continued playing. No big deal. Not the same when other kids or adults touch or fondled my package. That almost always caused an erection. The longer they touched my rod or played with my balls the more likely my penis would end up parallel to the ground.

When I swam at the beach or played at someone’s backyard pool other kids would ask why I wasn’t wearing a bathing suit (but I was never asked by an adult). Hell, I didn’t know. I just assumed that was the way Mom wanted it. And, I guess it was. At eight, I started processing that question differently. I remember scanning the most often crowded beaches or taking notice of playmates in backyards wondering why I was the only naked kid as far as my eyes could see.

At age eight I guess I paid more attention to those questions and I began to seek the answer from my parents. Their answer was either that they liked seeing me naked and were proud to share my body with others, or I was a boy and little boys needed to be naked it was healthier for them. At eight neither of those explanations made sense and I began to rebel. I don’t think it was my nudity I rebelled against. It was the fact that I wanted to be like the other kids and they all were adorned in colorful swimming attire. Even though sometime during that eighth year I was finally provided some coverage at the beach, I was still and continued to be sent naked to the surf to “rinse off” for the ride home right up to twelve years of age, and, during many visits to relatives, Mom made me stay naked while I played in their backyards. My sisters were brushed off and rinsed at the beach but never stripped to cleanse the sand from their bodies, nor were they required to be nude while visiting backyard pools.

In my tenth year, I was driven by fantasies of forced nudity. In most cases I silently reminisced about those early years. As I fantasized about once again being required to flaunt my stuff before others, I reveled in the erotic feelings within. Those visualizations combined with my self-manipulation always resulted in an erection. I loved “polishing” my rather prominent knob. As pleasurable those erections were, I never really wanted to go beyond fantasy until the night my sisters and I were to be attended by a sitter who was just five years my senior.

Fifteen-year-old Kathy Higgins, a girl from down the street was to attend us while Mom and Dad were at a big shindig thrown by my Dad’s employer. They would be gone until long after we were to be in bed. Kathy asked me to get my shower first. Of course, I bitched as it was customary to send us to the shower in age order, youngest first. But Kathy insisted that when she babysat it was boys first. She threatened to tell Mom and Dad I was uncooperative and that would usually result in a taste of Dad’s belt, so I begrudgingly did as she said.

I entered the bathroom with my cotton shorty pajamas. In our family, my pajamas were always with short bottoms, extremely thin cotton and always worn sans underwear.

To that day I’d never given much thought to how skimpy the coverage was of those flimsy cotton shorts. No buttons adorned my pajamas save those on the shirt. The flies were always subject to opening. I had become aware of the loose fly during the birth of my body awareness two years prior and would often sit with my hands in my lap making sure the opening remained closed. This was especially true when other people were present—even Mom or Dad.

But on that evening, something overtook my thought process. I was haunted with the idea that I’d flash Kathy with brief views of my frank and beans and act as though it was purely accidental. She’d get the show and I could maintain the appearance of my innocent unawareness while benefiting from the wild pleasures I’d feel inside.

Somewhat still wet from that shower (I never was very thorough with the towel) I bounded into the living room where my sisters and Kathy were watching TV. I sat on the couch next to Kathy as Sherry my younger sibling was moved from “on deck” to next for the shower. I decided to cross my legs which in itself would open the fly on the boxer length shorts. Though hesitant to do so, I kept my hands away from my crotch. Half to my chagrin the only exposure was a small patch of my pubis above the penis. No one but me was aware of it. I have to admit it gave me pause. On one hand, I wanted to adjust my position and close the opening to defend my privacy and on the other I wanted to find a way to casually pull my penis through the hole and watch my sister’s and Kathy’s response. Momentarily, I placed my fingers over the fly of my pajamas. Neither girl was even aware.

Something in my head started encouraging me to further adjust the opening to include more exposure of my boy parts. I slid my index finger into the lower section of the fly and slowly pulled it down. I could feel my finger as it passed my erect penis. As I pushed it down further the glans and two inches of the shaft popped out the opening. Something told me that was too obvious and I was able to adjust so the penis tented the right side of the fly opening. It gave a full side view of my stiffy. I boldly removed my hand and placed both behind my head while staring at the TV. Neither girl was aware of my “wardrobe malfunction” at that point. I was frustrated and desiring one of them or both to show some awareness of my situation.

I had to think of a question I could ask Kathy to draw her visual attention my way. Sherry bounded into the room. I instinctively started to close the opening to prevent her discovering it and making a grand announcement that would necessitate me having to readjust for the sake of appearing modest. When it was apparent she was oblivious to my situation, I returned the fly to its original position semi-exposing my penis once again.

It wasn’t until Gail got up to prepare for bed that I was finally discovered. I could tell by her casting her eyes at my lap she saw it. What came to mind was “Shit, I wanted Kathy to be the one.” Surprisingly, she said nothing, but her eyes told the whole story. She appeared to be convinced that I was unaware of my exposure. Little did she know. Whether it was to keep me exposed for the sake of Kathy’s enjoyment or just thinking I was her brother and there was nothing there she hadn’t seen before, I will never know. But, she said absolutely nothing. She did drink in the view though. It was something she hadn’t seen in two years. Off she went to the shower.

During a commercial, Sherry approached Kathy to ask about possibly making some popcorn to snack on before bed. She still hadn’t cast her eyes upon the tent in my pajamas and from her vantage she’d have been unable to see the skin anyway. Kathy on the other hand was in a position to be fully entertained. I had some reservation about covering knowing that soon she would visually see my stiff pecker.

I was shocked when Kathy, without looking down, patted the inside of my bare upper leg to ask if I wanted a snack as well. When she did her contact with the leg of my shorts was enough to make my circumcised member bounce free and stick completely out of the fly. She noticed then. She was quick to inform me my “bird had flown the coop”. Kathy acted as if it was nothing. Sherry laughed and pointed and I was suddenly driven to return it to the cover of my pajamas. Kathy chuckled and went off to get the snacks prepared.

For some reason that small voice within kept telling me that wasn’t a satisfactory outcome. It was almost a rejection in my mind that Kathy didn’t pay more attention to my penis. She wasn’t that much older than me. I had to try again. Become more reckless about being exposed. Maybe she needed more of a view? At any rate, I’d lost my erection for the moment and began planning a new approach.

I decided a more advantageous position would be on the floor on my back legs spread somewhat, hands behind my head. I was determined that if an erection resulted, and I hoped it would as I truly anticipated the hormonal feeling that accompanied it, I’d let it pop right out the fly. I knew my sisters would laugh, but I was hoping Kathy would find a way to touch it.

While Kathy was preoccupied in the kitchen I dropped to a supine position on the floor. My head rested on a throw pillow, my hands were behind my head. Sherry bolted to the kitchen to be a part of the popcorn preparation and I took advantage of the short privacy to adjust the fly once again. This time I opened it to provide a view of the skin of my pubis slightly above the base of my penis. It began to harden. Reenter Gail.

What was it with my sisters? She was oblivious to my genital situation as well as she asked where the others were and bounded into the kitchen. At eleven, I’d expect that Gail would have said or acknowledged something, but she didn’t.

It wasn’t until the three came back into the living room that I was hit with that second guess moment where I wanted to call it all off. But, I chose to remain in my position. My pajama bottoms were tightly pressing my penis against the pubis to the left of the hole. It was apparent that the tenting wasn’t quite as noticeable as it would have been had the erection been able to stick straight up. But, the skin was showing.

The girls settled in and began munching when Kathy plopped a bowl of popcorn next to me. I know she saw my opening and was aware of my excited state, but she said nothing. I could see her fixed gaze at my crotch. She returned to the couch and sat with my sisters. Occasionally I’d glance back at them and more than once I caught Kathy’s interest in my mid-section. Her attention led me to question how I’d be able to “adjust” my shorties without looking like it was my intent to display myself. I decided to wiggle my hips and hope the contact between the floor and back of my shorts would be enough to let my bad boy spring free once again.

During a commercial I did just that. Sure enough it worked. My four-inch erection was completely exposed. The audience was definitely aware. Kathy again spouted off, “Having a hard time keeping it covered aren’t you, Jack!” My sisters were predictably laughing.

Seeing that, Sherry asked, “Why do boys have those?”

Her question embarrassed both Karen and Gail. At the time, neither Sherry nor I were quite sure of sexual functions or the reasons for the body differences. Well, let me just say there’d been discussions on the playground but those reports weren’t yet confirmed for me by adults. Kathy dodged the question by suggesting she didn’t know and Sherry would have to ask Mom and Dad.

Funny but I was truly embarrassed. Go figure, I’d done it intentionally but the whole situation did embarrass me. I’d tucked my penis away once again. But having shown it to them, I was also emboldened. I lost some of my shyness. I immediately set off, in my mind, to figure another “accidental” exposure.

Within fifteen minutes, I’d caused my third “coming out”. It was then that Kathy, quite matter of factly suggested that I just take off my bottoms and let it “swing free” for the evening. She made it sound like a suggestion, but I could tell by her insistence it was a desire. Gail chimed in, “You heard the lady, Jack, get the pajamas off. Remember when Mom and Dad made you stay naked before bed? Guess we’re back to that, huh? You aren’t as big as you think you are.”

I told her to shut up. Kathy questioned the girls about what Mom and Dad had required/allowed when I was younger. She was as entertained by the story as the girls were telling it. Following the rehash, Kathy reiterated her suggestion more forcefully. “Okay Jack, take ‘em off.”

How in the hell I summoned the courage to expose myself before them I don’t know. All I can say is I took that more as an order than a suggestion and rose to slowly unbutton my top. My erect penis was sticking out from the fly opening as I did so. Kathy stopped me. “No, no, no, the pants first.” I stopped unbuttoning and slid my shorts down. I remember the penis bouncing up and down as the elastic waist caught and then released it. One step from each leg completely freed my shorts from my body. Nervously, I returned to unbuttoning my shirt. All three girls were amused and watched as I completed the task. Once naked, I instinctively moved to quasi cover my genitals. Kathy reminded me the whole purpose was to allow my item of interest to shed all confinement so I should just leave it alone.

She told Sherry to slide over so I could sit between them and patted the couch where she wanted me to sit. I slowly approached and plopped down encasing my erection and balls between my upper thighs. Again, Kathy suggested that my penis had been indicating a desire to “breathe free” so I should sit cross legged to allow it some freedom. After encouragement, I did so and sure enough was fully exposed.

To my sisters’ amusement, Kathy reached down and fluffed my scrotum and erection with her right hand. Her touch sent a shrill shiver up my spine. She did it again and then pinched the glans and wiggled my equipment stating, “Oh he’s soooo cute. What do you girls think? Isn’t your brother’s boy thing cute?”

That spawned lots of giggles. Then it was back to popcorn and TV programming. Kathy occasionally reached down between my folded legs and rubbed my package but only momentarily. It was almost as if she did it to maintain the erection. I liked it when she did and eventually spread as wide as I could to encourage more of the same.

At breakfast, Mom and Dad were filled in on the evening by my siblings. Both girls told the story causing a chuckle from both parents. Mom suggested maybe they should go back to the days of me air drying after my showers. I objected and acted like the goings on the evening before was embarrassing and humiliating. No mention was made about Kathy’s touching. Secretly, I was thankful it wasn’t. I half hoped she’d be asked to sit again soon after. There was a strong possibility that it’d result in an encore I desperately desired despite my body shyness.

That is how my first “tease” ended up.

It was in sixth grade we dressed out for physical education and were required to strip naked and don a jock strap (even though none of us appeared to have fully entered puberty), put short shorts on over our otherwise bare asses and go out to the field behind the school. We also began having to shower following class before putting on our street clothes again. Any thought that I’d overcome my shyness was quickly dispelled. I found myself trying to think of ways to avoid the whole naked thing, but it was unescapable. Self-conscious? Yes. No one made any comments about each other’s bodies and only a few, yours truly included, seemed uncomfortable being naked in the locker room. Where the hell were these unconcerned boys when I was eight and naked on public beaches? They were most assuredly wearing some colorful suits. So why was I the one who was so shy? You’d think it’d be the other way around.

Early in my twelfth year I still hadn’t developed even the wispiest sign of pubic hair. There were changes to the size of both my penis and scrotum (and I assume its contents) and my voice would occasionally crack. It wasn’t uncommon as most of the boys in my class were somewhere on the spectrum between boyhood and adolescence. I wasn’t the beneficiary of wet dreams nor had I experienced, to my knowledge, an ejaculation, but I did sense an increase in my desire to challenge my never-ending battle between my strict modesty and being forcibly exposed to others.

It was during that sixth-grade year I came up with another horny drive to violate my modesty. Frankly, I did need to be assisted in summoning the courage to do so. I decided to ask my best friend to be that courage bearer. Ray Richardson had been my friend for most of my elementary years. He and I went through a lot including sex play sessions where we curiously compared each other’s equipment and played challenge games involving naked exposure. That said, we’d for the most part outgrown those long before middle school. At least, I thought. I missed the pleasant feelings of arousal forced exposure had come to provide. My new bout with horniness dictated hatching a plan for Ray to bring me to a private place and invite some of the neighborhood girls to strip me naked as I struggled to escape their actions.

There was an abandoned what had been corner store we passed on our way home from school. The backdoor had been insecurely nailed shut and would open if both of us put our shoulders to it. The front windows were covered with plywood panels whose exterior sported many coats of spray painted designs, but allowed enough light to trickle in from around the edges. The same could be said about the door and the pane less window in the back room. It was dirty and dusty inside, but it did provide coverage for our mutual exploration experiences. I wonder, if the walls could talk, how many other boys used it for the same thing—diddling each other’s erections and balls and poking anal areas with sticks or other items from the floor of the abandoned structure. As I think about it, it is amazing neither of us had picked up some dread disease from the lack of cleanliness.

I had the bold idea that Ray could invite some of the girls from our class to share our secret meeting place. He was a bit taken back with the idea. Not so much that we’d share our private clubhouse, but that I proposed sharing it with the girls. He was completely unaware of my drive to make the girls strip me naked and spend the afternoon fondling me.

Ray made the invitation to play with two girls from our class. They, of course, were skeptical. Eleven-year-old girls weren’t quite at the age to be that interested in playing or associating with like age boys. Oh sure, they swooned and talked about us, but they weren’t at an age to feel comfortable with making it known to us.

We met that afternoon, after school, at the old store. I was there before Ray, Cindy and Mary arrived. At this point it must be noted, neither of these girls had brothers. I was pretty certain that would give them even more of an interest in boy anatomy. One could only hope.

In an effort to set my plan (the goal of which Ray was also unaware of) I removed my shoes and socks, then my shirt and hung it on a nail. I would look like I was busy collecting trash and took those items off just to be comfortable in the warmth of that September day. As discussed Ray hadn’t really told the girls I knew they were coming with him. I heard the three approaching and quickly backed my belt buckle off two holes and pushed my pants and underpants down on my left hip over the crest of my pelvis far enough to look naturally displaced while still baiting the girls’ imagination (and Ray’s too).

As Ray forced the door opened and brought the girls in, I acted surprised at their presence. I also pretended to be a bit put out the girls were with him. They immediately giggled and began asking questions about the facility, and why I had my shoes and socks off. No mention about my shirt, just my shoes and socks. My pants still hung lopsidedly but they made no mention of it. My penis did begin hardening as I saw them give me the once over.

I explained I was cleaning up the old glass soft drink bottles and other trash that had been there for years, and they and Ray could visit or help me do it. “Or, you could pretend I was your slave and you could tell me what to do”. I could tell immediately Cindy liked that idea. She was bossy even in the classroom and I knew she’d like nothing less than bossing me around. As a result, she, Ray and Mary decided to assume that role. While the three plotted my tasks, I took the opportunity to brush the other side of my jeans over the crest of the hip lowering my belt line to an even more suggestive level. My rock hard penis was pressing against the front of my pants.

There was that momentary period where my brain debated my intentions. Did I really want to violate my modesty any more than allowing the girls to see me shirtless? Did I really intend to bait them into stripping me completely? It wasn’t too late to call the whole thing off. I could put my shirt, shoes and socks back on and the whole occasion would be none the worse. On the other hand, I could allow what was now an erotic rush to come to fruition. I reasoned that I gone that far and the hormonal response was too exciting. I’d let it go wherever it would.

As I bent over to pick up a large piece of cardboard I’d later throw out the window, I could feel my pants slide down over my upper backside. Whether it exposed my crack I’m not sure as my underwear didn’t slide quite as much as my jeans. Whatever it exposed had to have been seen by my audience.

At that point, I was becoming impatient. I wanted them to make a plan to free me of the rest of my attire. I knew they wouldn’t make the first move. I had to “suggest” it.

“It’s really hot in here. Ray, if you hadn’t brought the girls, I’d be working in my underwear.” Hint, hint.

Mary’s eyes widened, but being the shy kid she was, she said nothing. Cindy on the other hand was quick with, “We don’t care. If you want to take your pants off, take ‘em off.”

“No, I’ll keep them on. I don’t want to shock you two.”

“No, take them off. Like I said we’re okay. That is unless you’re embarrassed.”

There it was the challenge I’d hoped for. I could proceed with the understanding I wasn’t afraid. What I didn’t think about was when I removed the jeans my tighty whities would be undeniably tented and the state of my boyhood would be quite apparent.

“No, Cindy, I wouldn’t want to offend Mary. I don’t care that much about you.” I sarcastically replied.

Mary spoke, “I don’t care if you take your pants off.”

BINGO!!!

I unbuckled the belt and slid them down my legs. I was careful not to pull the elastic waistband on my underwear up. I left them lopsidedly clinging to my hips rather than at my waist. After stepping out of my pants, I picked them up off the floor and hung them over my shirt on the same nail. I noticed how the dust from the floor had clung to the jeans like they were a magnet. A couple of brushes with my hand still hadn’t removed the bulk of it. I had to summon the courage to turn toward the very attentive audience as my jockeys were extremely tented. All I could do was make the turn quickly and act both unaware and unconcerned about the presentation. To this day, I’m not sure either girl was aware of what erections were. Maybe it’d pique their curiosity. I could only hope.

After a quick, nervous chuckle I pretended to get back to work. As I bent over to pick up more trash I was compelled to open the window to full exposure, “Well, if I’m your ‘slave’ what do you want me to do first?’” I threw the metal object out the back window.

Before Cindy could reply, I asked Ray to come to the front of the store with me. I told the girls I need to talk to him privately. When we went to the front I whispered, “If they want me to take off my underwear, you need to step in and tell them, if I do they’ll have to play with my wiener and balls. They can’t just look.”

Ray was really taken off balance by that. “You’d take off your underwear for them? What the fuck? Are you crazy?”

“No, it’ll be fun. But, they have to order me to do it. Better yet, if they want that, I’m going to say no. Then you grab me in a full nelson hold and tell them to take them off. I’ll fight until they’ve got them off and then before you let me go, tell them to pull my dick and feel my balls. After they do that, you offer to let me go if I settle down and let them do whatever they want to me.”

“Are you out of your head. Shit, they’ll brag about it to all the kids at school. What if your parents find out?”

“Who cares? If Mom and Dad find out, I’ll get a lecture. Dad might whip me with the belt, but they won’t find out. Just do it. You know the plan?”

“Okay, but I think you’re crazy. Hell, I thought you were crazy when you took off your jeans.”

We went back to the backroom where the girls were seated on two old milk crates. I immediately started picking up trash and tossing it out the back window.

Cindy now went into her stealth mode, “Jack, you still hot?”

“A little bit. Why?”

“Well, you could take off your underpants. Maybe it’d be cooler.”

“Yeah, right, Cindy. Like I’m going to do that. I don’t think so.” My refusal made me even more aroused. I could feel my penis flinch at the thought.

Enter Ray, “You know you’re her slave. She can make you do whatever she wants.”

“Yeah, you’re our slave and I want you to be comfortable. Take off your underwear.”

I had to be oppositional, “You can go to hell. I’ll clean up the place wherever you want, but I’m not going to take off my underwear.”

With that the three went into a huddle. I could hear Ray whispering that he’d help them get me naked, if they promised to play with my balls, penis and hole. “If you promise to feel him up so I can watch, I’ll hold him and you two can pull his underwear off.” Cindy smiled and Mary grinned. Both were into it, but Cindy much more than Mary. He continued, “If you take his clothes outside and hide them, we can make him do whatever we want.”

Hiding my clothes wasn’t in my plan, but I was horny enough at that point to accept any condition.

Ray was first to announce, “They want their slave to be naked.” As he spoke those words he slipped behind me and put me in a full nelson wrestling hold. “Okay girls, take his underpants off.”

I feigned fighting against the move, but Cindy ever determined slid my briefs down and despite my kicking off. My four-inch erection slapped my pubis as the elastic cleared the cut tip. When it settled it was pointing upward leaving my scrotum fully exposed. Both girls stared in amusement. Cindy picked up my now dirt and dust covered white briefs off the cement floor and handed them to Mary. “Get his clothes and take them outside and hide them somewhere. We don’t want him getting dressed until we’re ready.” Mary followed her direction. She couldn’t have gone far with them. She was only gone for a minute or two.

Ray continued to hold me. He then reminded Cindy there was some manhandling she promised to do. She more than happily responded by grabbing me penis in a grip that felt like it’d snap it off. Then she used her left index finger to trace around the glans followed by rubbing the knob as if she was polishing it. That only made it stiffer. Eventually she pressed the scrotum. It was a bit heavier press than was comfortable. In fact, there was a bit of pain as she pressed my balls firmly against my body. I continued to wiggle as if I was fighting against the fondling, but only for appearance sake.

“Now, let Mary have a turn.”

Mary was a bit more timid in her approach. She used light touch with her fingers to both my penis and scrotum. After establishing more courage, she used her whole hand to rub and feel my package. Her gentleness allowed me to realistically calm down a bit. For some reason, she was intrigued with my at the time dark pink glans squeezing it and twisting it to examine all sides. She shrugged her shoulders and said, “Looks like a mushroom.” Causing all but me to laugh.

Ray was getting tired of restrain me, “Okay, Jack, I’ll let you go if you promise to stay naked and let the girls touch you wherever they want. If you give them any trouble, I’ll tell them to leave and take you clothes with them. Understand?”

Boy he was good. I think too he was horny from watching and participating in all this. I could tell by his assertiveness and what my bare ass felt when it pressed against his tented fly. I acted reluctant but agreed to comply. I was no longer getting the pre-nakedness rush and as the girls began playing with me I gradually lost the inhibition of them seeing my genitals, but I actually looked forward to their touch.

Cindy got the bright idea that maybe I should be made to go outside naked and risk being seen by passersby. The store was on a desolate corner and frankly if one vehicle passed by the back of the store every fifteen or twenty minutes that was a lot. Few if any pedestrians passed that way. And, I was not “game” enough to participate in any form of public exhibition.

Regardless, she kicked open the back door so there would be more light entering the room. They ordered me to lay on my back while they manipulated my genitalia. I was concerned it would turn to anal play, but really other than a remark from Ray neither girl was interested in my hole. They liked my stiff penis and soft ball purse. What didn’t occur to me was my back and ass were being covered in the dust and light dirt on the floor of that place. And, all that dirt and dust would play a role later that very evening.

After an hour of making me a toy for Ray and the girls, Mary retrieve my clothes and I quickly redressed. It was getting to be supper time and I knew if I was late getting home I’d have explaining to do. That wouldn’t be a problem, I’d just tell her Ray and I were playing and I lost track of the time. It’d be uncomfortable though because being late for meals peeved my mother and father.

I came in through the kitchen door. Mom looked me over and asked the usual maternal question, “How did you get so dirty?”

I told her Ray and I were cleaning up our fort. She made and assumption it was an outdoor fort. If she knew we were using the abandoned store, she would have hit the ceiling. She turned me around and ordered me to take off my jeans and shirt and get a bath quickly before Dad came home for dinner. I started to leave and she repeated, “No, just take off your jeans and shirt right here. I don’t need you traipsing around my clean house with all that dirt on.” I quickly took my shirt off and let it drop to the floor. I had forgotten the condition of my underwear as I pulled my belt out of the loops and lowered my jeans. As I bent to pick them up to take them to the laundry room, Mom noticed the dirt on my underwear. It did not go without comment.

“Your underwear is filthy. Were you running around in your underwear?” She approached, “Your legs and back are… What were you guys doing at that fort?”

Uh, oh, she had that suspicious facial expression that wreaked of “you’ve been up to something I wouldn’t approve of”. You know the look, the grimace and raised eyebrow.

I explained that I had removed my shirt and pants to try to keep them from getting dirty. Her curiosity got the best of her and she turned me around and pulled the elastic back to take an aerial view of my ass cheeks. Who would have thought? It’d been years since she felt she had the right to forcibly examine any of my body area covered by my underwear. “How’d your bottom get dirty?”

Now, I was cornered. How in the hell would I explain that? Maybe I could tell a “boy” lie that would both pacify her and make her proud. “Ray and I went skinny dipping in the creek back behind Henderson’s farm. Nobody saw us.”

She argued that she didn’t believe it. She said I was too sensitive about my body to skinny dip and especially somewhere where there was the likelihood I be seen by others like the creek behind Henderson’s. “This isn’t mud. It’s black dust and dirt. You didn’t get this on yourself at a creek. What have you guys been up to?”

I cried and pled that I was telling the truth. She shrugged her shoulders and order me to divest myself of my underwear in the laundry room and proceed naked to the bathroom for a shower. Normally I wouldn’t have done so without argument, but I had to get away from the possibility of further questioning. Cupping my dick and balls I ran through the kitchen and headed to the shower.

It wasn’t three days later that somehow, somewhere, Mom got the impression that I had stripped for Cindy Ferguson and Mary Ledbetter and let them play with my goods. Of course, as she told it, she argued with the source that the likelihood of that happening would be slim at best. She explained that I was the most body shy boy in the sixth grade and even the coach complained about my hesitation to shower after gym class. But whomever reported it to her was insistent. Soooo, guess who got in the hot seat for interrogation that very afternoon.

Again, I lied telling her we went skinny dipping. She called Ray’s mother who then interrogated Ray. He finally broke. I mean he didn’t have as much to lose as I did. He kept his clothes on during the ordeal. He told his mother I orchestrated the entire event (which was kind of true). After Ray’s mom reported the results of her investigation I was nailed.

Almost as if she’d been waiting for the opportunity, Mom ordered me to strip naked in the living room. I figured it was in preparation for the belt. Telling her a lie historically ended in corporal punishment of some sort, usually at the end of my Dad’s belt. I cried as I took off my shirt and lowered my pants. She sat there glaring with anger and righteousness as she held out her hand to retrieve my clothing. I stalled at my briefs hoping she’d be satisfied with what she had. “Underpants too. I want everything off.” I slide my briefs down thinking a good belting was inevitable. She surprised me.

“You like being naked in front of other kids? Is that what you want?”

“No.”

“You like letting other kids play with your boy parts?”

“No,” I cried. I couldn’t make eye contact.

“Well, I think you do. If you, Ray and the girls were entertained at the abandoned store by your flaunting your naked body around, I think you do. By the way, haven’t Dad and I told you to stay away from that store? It’s private property and besides that it’s dangerous. The place if falling down.”

She got up and walked off with my clothes. I stood there, hands covering what was now an erection. She reentered the room and told me to go out back and clean the grill so Dad could cook the burgers when he got home. I reminded her through my sob that I was naked. She told me I’d be naked for the entire weekend, explaining that she was glad I’d gotten over my body shyness enough to present myself to others and she felt I should practice it a little more. It’d be good therapy. “Now, get out back and clean the grill for your father. And keep your hands away from your penis. If you can show it to Cindy and Mary, you sure as hell can show it to the neighbors.”

I remember the feeling as my erection swayed back and forth with each step. As I went to the backyard I stood in the kitchen doorway and carefully scanned left and right to make sure none or our neighbors was out in their yard. I was not eager to give them a show. The folks whose lot backed up to ours weren’t out either. At least they weren’t out until they became aware of me using a wire brush on the grate covering our grill. Then they came out and actually approached me. I stood with the kettle grill between my bare midsection and their field of vision. They were quickly joined by their visiting grandchildren who were unreservedly excited to see the naked boy’s “thing”.

Mom joined us for a moment. “Jack has decided to join the ranks of the nudists. He likes the freedom of being naked, so we’re going to have him try it out this weekend. What do you think? Go on Jack, go out there in the yard and play. Maybe you can kick the soccer ball around with the kids.”

I hesitated, Mom slapped my ass cheek and said, “Go. Play. I’ll finish the grill.”

I stepped out from behind with tear filled eyes. I went to cup my equipment and Mom let out the “Uh, uh, uh. No covering. Nudists don’t cover anything.” I was hard as a board and facing this elderly couple and their two grandsons and granddaughter. Tommy, the ten-year-old, and I would frequently play together when they visited. He was a bit shocked. He’d never seen me naked before, but then neither had any of the rest of them. Brandon, the seven-year-old, wasn’t quite as curious he just kind of accepted it as okay. Jeanette their six-year-old sister was all but drooling. Her eyes glistened and she had that curious little smile as she stared at my penis.

The grandmother simply made the remark, “Oh, Jack, you’re beautiful. I sure hope you like being a nudist. I like looking at you.” Boy, that was direct, don’t you think?

I was instructed to retrieve the soccer ball and go play in the yard. After ten or fifteen minutes Brandon sought permission from his grandparents to be what he called a “nakedist” too. Permission was granted without any thought and the kid stripped naked and rejoined us. I remember envying his innocent demeanor with nudity which I didn’t share.

Tommy never offered to undress. He did however find any opportunity to come in contact with my erection and balls whenever he could. I did notice as we played that weekend his interest in seeing my anus as well. Guess, looking back, it was a normal boys’ intrigue with holes of all kinds.

Jeanette had free reign over both me and her brother. She could feel whatever she wanted whenever she wanted to feel it. I was often looking for ways for me to pull away from her grasp of my usually erect phallus. The kid was brutal on my balls as well. Nothing gentle about her exploration. I really think she had regular access to her brothers’ body parts at home, as she never seemed to want to entertain herself fondling Brandon. Just me. Or perhaps it was my size that garnered her attention, who knows. All I can say is by the end of that weekend, I found myself enjoying her attention.

As far as their grandparents? Well, I would say they took no less than three or four hundred photos of we kids playing. That was new. We’d played often before, but never was that a Kodak moment for them. I’m not sure, but I’d bet I was the central subject of those photos and Brandon was a close second. Mom and Dad didn’t waste time joining the photographic craze either. I can say most of what they took (and still have) were frontal shots. Most embarrassing were those of the other kids playing with my hard-on, especially Jeanette.

One would think a kid who didn’t even like to wear shorts because it exposed too much of his skin for public scrutiny would have been devastated by all that happened back then. I was. But as the weekend progressed I became a little more self-assured about being naked. After the goings on, though, and I was allowed my clothing again, my modesty level returned to an overly protective level. Other kids at school knew of the ordeal at the abandoned building and would ask me if I would “get naked” for them, too. No chance. And when the grandkids would visit Mom or their grandmother would ask if I didn’t want to play naked (Brandon did by himself on several visits). I had grown some hair down there and that only made me more adamant. Never again.

(End of File)