My Father–Son Talk

By Running Bare
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Copyright 2018 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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I had to give Mom a hard time. She returned the favor and saw to it I was sentenced to a year-long “hard” time.
 
 
 
My Father–Son Talk – Unfortunately Not the Usual One
 
By, Running Bare
 
 
 
Mom slipped into my bedroom and whisked open the curtains with a rapid motion, interrupting my usual preadolescent extended sleep. The bright sunlight both lit the room and temporarily blinded and at the same time annoyed me. First, why was she so cheery at this hour, and, second why the hell couldn’t I sleep till at least ten? It was Saturday, for God’s sake.
 
“Good morning, sunshine! You need to get up, we have a pretty busy day planned. Daddy needs your help in the yard his morning.” Oh, great, yard work just what I wanted to do with a day off.
 
I yawned and stretched as she stood there waiting. I was kind of perplexed as to her reason for not making a quick exit as she usually did.
 
“Come on, get up. Let me have your underwear, I’m doing a load of wash.”
 
Immediately, my modesty went into action. I remained on the bed trying to act like I didn’t hear her request. Again, one leg hanging out from under the covers, and the other under my sheet and light blanket, I stretched and fake yawned. After her second instruction to do so, I couldn’t continue the ruse. I offered to bring them down after I dressed. Hell, I was about to turn twelve and I didn’t think stripping in front of my mother was the most comfortable thing to be doing. To put things in perspective, my mother hadn’t seen me naked in a year.
 
The last time she beheld my package she was putting calamine lotion on my poison ivy infected penis and testicles. Talk about humiliating, even though she is your mother, having her caressing your rod and family jewels was a bit weird to say the least. But, it happened three times a day for seven or eight days. The last few days of that incident, I was clear but she wanted to “make sure it’d all dried up.
 
It was then I sensed the cheery, vibrant, happy-go-lucky attitude she entered with was starting to shift. Her third order held a bit more of an authoritarian tone. “Get up, get your underwear off, and give them to me. I don’t have time for this.”
 
Again, I tried to beg out of doing it. I didn’t want my mother examining my penis or any other part of my private areas. It was bad enough dealing with the poison ivy treatment when there was a reason for her attention. And, truth be told that only panned out after my father and his belt were used as a reason to comply.
 
My negotiation took another direction. I told her if she’d round up the rest of the laundry, I’d hand them out to her as she past from the bathroom hamper on her way to the laundry room. Made perfect sense. She’d get the dirty garment and I’d be able to preserve my modesty. Pretty fair, don’t you think?
 
I think my hesitation and negotiation had pushed her to the point she felt she had to challenge my obstinance. It was no longer an issue of my modesty. What cemented that idea in my head was her threat to summon my father into the fray, and she was clear she’d demand he take the belt to me. We’d shifted to full blown anger. My how quickly that evolved.
 
Dad was generally an even handed and easy-going guy. But, after my eighth birthday he was the go to guy for spanking. Before that both used to take my pants off and tear up my bare ass when it was necessary, but at eight the whole process changed. Mom said she didn’t leave enough of an impression for a growing boy and when I was to be whipped she wanted it painful and thorough. So, Dad became the “executioner” and he did know how to make an impression on a boy. There were times I was bruised for a week after a whipping.
 
As I think back, it was almost that same time I became less willing to be exposed before my mother, sisters or other relatives or people in general.
 
Anyway, back to the immediate problem. The threat to get Dad involved, and it would have been an automatic belting right then and there, left me no alternative but to pull off the boxers in Mom’s presence. I mean, if Dad was involved, they’d have come off in her presence for the beating and she would have seen my naked form anyway. Why not just give in and avoid the pain?
 
I stood facing the bed and pulled them off baring my backside to her. I reached around with the boxers in-hand in an attempt to pacify her need and get her the hell out of my room without seeing my genitals. That didn’t work. She demanded I turn around and hand them to her. I turned slowly draping the shorts in front of my now erect penis. Her stare was focused on the boxers as she put her hand forward to retrieve them.
 
My mind raced, “Now what do you do, Jack? You hand them to her and your stiffy is right there in the line of sight.”
 
In a level forward thrust I put them in her hand and quickly turned back toward the bed grabbing the blanket as though I was going to make it up and hoping she’d just leave. But noooo!
 
“Turn around, we need to have a bit of a talk young man!”
 
What’s a guy to do? I turned around this time clutching my stiff penis. First order of business was predictable.
 
“Put your hands down.”
 
Gulp, I complied slowly lowering them and releasing a four-inch boner jutting out atop a slightly bulbous scrotum.  
 
She took my chin in her hand and finally turned her eyes to mine. “You are just a young boy. You have nothing to be embarrassed about. Your body is just like any other boy’s. In fact, your penis is probably a little above average. So, there’s no reason for all this modesty. That and the fact that I’m your mother and there’s nothing there I haven’t seen or touched many times in the past eleven years should be enough reason for you to get over it. I’m going to discuss this whole thing with your father in after I get the washer going. You just stay naked like this until he talks to you. He’ll let you know what we decided.”
 
Remember, what I told you about Dad and his belt? You can imagine where my head was going. I had to stay naked. Tip number one. I had to strip naked for discipline. Tip two? I was to stay in my bedroom, the site of most corporal onslaughts. Tip three? I don’t know how it is in your family, but in mine Dad having a “talk” with me while I was naked in my bedroom could only mean one thing. I was scared.
 
“But, I gave them to you. I did what you said!”
 
“Just stay in your room until he talks to you.” She left.
 
I was a prisoner in my bedroom for the next half hour. My eyes were tear-filled anticipating an ass warming. There was a quiet knock on the door (that was a good sign), the knob turned and door slowly opened. It was my Dad. Another good sign? His belt was still in the loops of is pants. Maybe I’d dodged the bullet.
 
He motioned for me to sit up and I complied. My boyhood still plainly exposed, but not an issue as the relief of his peaceful demeanor had taken precedence over my nudity. He sat down beside me and put his right hand on my left thigh as he opened the discussion.
 
“You know, boys and girls are a bit different.” That was awkward. “Boy’s have a different set of sexual rules in our society than girls do. Girls are taught to be more secretive about their bodies and expected to maintain a certain amount of modesty. I know, many like your sisters, wear some pretty revealing clothes like those shorts that come up to their ass cheeks.” He patted my bare thigh and chuckled a bit with that remark. “But, they aren’t expected to accept total nakedness after they’re five or six years old.
 
“For boys its different. You know, this next year, at school you’re going to be expected to shower after P. E., it’s going to be in a huge open shower area. You and the rest of your classmates will be naked together and most boys will saunter around the locker room naked. Boys are expected to be easy about things like that. What you might call ‘strutting their stuff’.”
 
I’d heard about that and I wasn’t too comfortable about facing that eventuality. I thought I could use the summer to build some self-confidence. I’d been body shy since I was six or seven. Maybe it was following the “new rules” as they were imposed on Cindy my thirteen-year-old sister. What I really think was due to the attention my penis had gotten from as far back as I could remember. Lots of remarks about it’s length. Maybe it was the comments about my “cute dimpled butt”. Maybe it was Mom’s teasing pinches to that butt when I was naked. But, somewhere along the line my comfort with nudity shut down.
 
Dad continued. “You are not old enough to need a whole lot of modesty. Actually, your embarrassment about your body has been a concern for your mother and me for the past three or four years. I think we let you down somehow. It was our job to help you develop from boyhood into manhood with ease, but this whole problem you seem to have with nudity isn’t normal. At least we don’t think so.”
 
I was crying listening to him. He’d hit a nerve. He was right about my dislike of being naked in front of anyone except maybe Roger, my best friend. He and I secretly played with each other’s boy parts and sometimes challenged each other to risk being seen naked by other kids and sometimes adults, but that’s another story. In fact, we’d been caught running around the neighborhood while completely naked one night during a sleepover at Roger’s house. His mother whipped the fire out of our bare asses and we had to stay naked for a day. Dad also whipped the fire out of my ass for that. So, now I’m not supposed to be so shy about being naked? This wasn’t adding up, but I kept my mouth shut. No sense changing Dad’s currently gentle demeanor. He began rubbing my thigh as he spoke. The side of his hand actually was bumping into the base of my penis and scrotum. He wasn’t “tuned in” to it, but I was and, weirdly, my reaction was to spread my legs further apart to give him unfettered access. It felt good. But, other than unconsciously brushing past my now erect penis, he paid no attention as he continued.
 
“This summer your mother and I are going to try to help you get over some of your shyness. That little tiff you had with Mom kind of was the final straw for her.”
 
This talk was becoming for me. I was becoming uncomfortable, again. What could they have in mind?  He continued.
 
“Starting today we’re going to be making you spend some time naked this summer. It’s the only way to combat the problem as we see it. Now, we aren’t going to make you go shopping or out to dinner naked, but there are going to be times you’ll be embarrassed. In the long run that’s kind of the point, though isn’t it? You need to work on embarrassment.”
 
I was now, scared and traumatized by the pronouncement. At first, I couldn’t think of how to combat that plan. My mind was spinning as he continued.
 
“This morning, after breakfast and a family meeting, you can put on your bathing suit so we can go and buy you some clothes for this summer. Mom wants you to dress in boys’ athletic shorts any time you aren’t naked.”
 
I had to interrupt. The whole idea of short pants was difficult for me. Other than at the beach or a pool, Even though all my friends wore shorts all the time during the warm months, I didn’t like my legs exposed to the scrutiny of other people. Again, I think it goes back to being complimented on the “shapely, muscular, smooth legs” by my aunts, grandmothers and many of Mom’s friends. Never recall hearing anyone talking about my friends’ legs, or maybe I was just sensitive to mine being such a focus. I told Dad I had shorts I could wear. It was an attempt to moderate that whole naked thing.
 
“Yes, but we think they should be very short. We think they’ll bring a lot of attention and eventually help you adjust to exposing your legs when you aren’t naked.”
 
There it was again—naked.
 
“Now, don’t worry about this. We won’t ask you to be naked at school or baseball practice, but you will be naked at home and in some other circumstances. You will be naked in front of Cindy and Abby and their friends. You’ll be naked in front of your friends. But, that shouldn’t be a problem with you and Roger should it?”
 
That was a jab at what I told you about before. I think it was his way of adding some comic relief to this devasting conversation.
 
As he continued, his touch was more directed at my stiff penis. But, again, it wasn’t like he was concentrating on fondling me, I’d swear he was completely unaware of briefly encircling it with his hand and gently twisting it. “You can be in-charge of your body from the standpoint who touches it, unless Mom or I tell you otherwise. And that includes your whole body not just your penis, testicles or backside. So, you will have some control.”
 
I felt that was generous of them. Yeah, right. Everyone could look, but I was the one to decide who and when I got touched. Some concession. That concession was promptly diluted by the next remark.
 
“Of course, you will let your mother or me touch whatever, whenever should we feel the need. That’s a given, but your grandparents are also empowered to touch any part of your body as they deem necessary or desired. Is that understood?”
 
Not too bad. In my mind, those six could be trusted to keep touch to an absolute necessity. Unfortunately, he wasn’t finished.
 
“Your sisters can touch your penis, testicles, backside or anus as they wish, too.”
 
What the hell? Cindy always teases me about how long she remembers my penis to be. She embarrasses me in front of her friends telling them about it.  Now she can feel it? She’ll be able to back up the remarks with public showings? I panicked.
 
“But, Dad...”
 
His finger went up as if to shush me. For the first time his voice got an adamant tone, “Cindy and Abby are your sisters. There are going to be no secrets. You will let them see and touch whatever part of you they want to. They will be told to be gentle and we’ll deal with it if either hurts you, but you will let them touch you whenever they want.”
 
He went on to justify that ruling, “Abby’s only seven, Jack. Any touching she does will be out of curiosity. In fact, she and her friends will most likely ignore your nakedness after a few days. Let’s just see how it plays out. If Mom or I have to set some other ground rules for the girls we will.”
 
My turn to try to make this pill go away. “Can’t we do this some other way? I could maybe talk to a counselor or something and they could help me. I don’t want to be naked in front of other people. Please, Dad. Please!”
 
“Your mother and I have thought this whole thing through many times. We’ve put it on the back burner several times. But, that little deal with your mother this morning pushed it over the edge. No, Jack, we’re going to do this beginning today.” He patted my leg again. “Now, let’s go down and get breakfast. Your sisters are with Mom waiting for you to come down. After breakfast, we’ll all meet and make sure the rules are laid down.”
 
“Please, Dad. Let’s find something else we can do.”
 
Then he went into the stories I heard many times before about his boyhood. “You know when I was a boy we had to swim naked at many public places. When I went to summer camp I was naked more than I was clothed.”
 
Any attempt to call him on that was easily dispelled. He had the photos taken by his mother and father and some he said were taken by other kids at camp. He wasn’t lying he and the other boys were nude. Most of the photos were of him from seven or eight all the way up to having a crop. The boys were naked! But this was a whole different generation. The rules had changed. Or, had they?
 
He went on, “We were naked in front of mothers, fathers, brothers and sisters, boys and girls. Even girls from our classes at school saw us naked at times. The girls wore bathing suits at the lake, but the boys weren’t allowed to. We eventually just accepted it, and you will too. I promise you’ll become more comfortable with it as time goes on. After a while, you won’t even notice it.”
 
Then he finished with, “Jack, it’s decided. You’re naked starting this morning until we get you dressed for shopping. Mom will clear out the rest of your clothes while we’re gone. Let’s go down and get past your sisters’ reaction.” He pulled me up from the bed, gave my bare backside a gentle swat, and ushered me to the door.
 
Wish I could say that the relief of dodging the belt and having Dad so calm as he outlined the situation was sufficient for me to become more comfortable with what was about to occur, but it didn’t. I was still shedding tears as I slowly sauntered down the upstairs hall with Dad following behind me. As we went down the steps my attention to the sway of my erection each step initiated was broken when I heard the voices of my unsuspecting sisters talking with my mother.
 
As I entered the kitchen with Dad’s hand on my shoulder, my hands went automatically into a protective position. Cindy was the first to respond with an, “Oh my God! My little brother’s naked!” Mom just stood there with a victorious grin.
 
Abby, wide-eyed, just hollered, “I wanna see!”
 
“See what, Honey?” Mom tried to act as though it was just a normal occurrence of someone to show up for a meal nude.
 
“I wanna see his boy thing.”
 
Mom took over, “Jack, put your hands down. Your sister wants to see your penis.”
 
Dad maintained his hold of my shoulder as I slowly revealed my erect member.
 
Abby was the first to comment. “Whoa! Look how long it is!”
 
Then Cindy had to rub it in. “Looks to me like you like being naked, huh.” She coyly glanced toward Mom.
 
I quickly became frustrated and started to cry. With that Mom patted a chair and said, “Here, Jack, have a seat. I’ve got pancakes and bacon ready to go.”
 
Nice try at changing the subject and trying to normalize the goings on. It didn’t work though. As I seated myself where Mom had indicated at the glass topped table Abby piped up again, “Why’s Jack naked?”
 
“Jack’s going to be naked a lot this summer. He’s working on getting over a problem and we’re going to help him.”
 
Cindy couldn’t help making matters a bit worse for me, “He’s shy about his body, and Mom and Dad are going to make him show it to everyone.”
 
Mom was a bit perplexed, “What gives you that idea, young lady?”
 
“I overheard you and Daddy talking about it this morning.”
 
“Well that was none of your business. Don’t you ever listen to our private conversations or we’ll dole out some consequences you won’t like. Shame on you. When, Dad and I are talking privately you need to find somewhere else to be. Got it?”
 
That shut her up but didn’t make me feel any better.
 
Abby still wasn’t satisfied. “Why does he have to be naked?”
 
“Oh, Daddy and I want him to get a good tan this summer. It’s good for his skin. Besides, I like looking at his penis. Don’t you?”
 
“Yeaaahhhh, but other people will see his penis too. Won’t they?” The seven-year-old continued.
 
“I’m sure a lot of people will, but he has a nice penis and everyone should be able to see it. Now, eat your breakfast.” Mom pulled at my knee, “Jack, spread your legs apart when you sit. I wasn’t kidding. I want to see that penis, all the time.”
 
The last remark caused Cindy to snort so hard juice spewed from her nostrils. Mom and Dad smiled at each other. Abby just attended to eating. It made me feel like a dagger had just been driven into me. I spread my legs apart freeing my stiffy for anyone to see through the glass topped table.
 
As we ate, Mom had to embarrass me further. “Guess, we’ll have to inspect his bottom off and on during the day to make sure he isn’t soiling the chairs and carpets.” She laughed to illustrate her desire for that to be taken as comical.
 
Cindy joined in with, “Guess so”. Laughing as well.
 
Abby wanted inclusion in the discussion. “I wanna be in charge of that.”
 
“You want to check his butt hole for poop stains?” Cindy asked.
 
“Yeahhh. I really wanna do it. Can I?” She looked toward Mom.
 
I was getting pissed and but afraid to express my anger during all the emotional abuse. Instead, I just continued to eat.
 
“We’ll see, Abby. Just eat.”
 
That was a relief. “We’ll see” usually was a polite way Mom and Dad said “No!”
 
Following breakfast, Dad made the announcement that we all were to move to the living room for a discussion. So, we did, but only after Mom wet paper towel in hand, held me back. After the girls and Dad were out of eyeshot, she bent me over and spread my ass cheeks. “Just don’t want any streaks on my couch cushions. You need to come to me after every bowel movement, okay?” I nodded affirmatively. “Jack, I mean it. Any poop stains on my couch or chairs and I’ll get Daddy to take the belt to you.”
 
I wanted to say, “Like this whole idea is mine? If you don’t want to have that happen how about a simple solution—let me wear fucking clothes!” I didn’t dare, especially with that expletive. That’d be a soap in the mouth moment for sure.
 
We followed the rest of the family. They were all seated. My loving sisters were staring at my crotch without even trying to be nonchalant about it. I seated myself between them on the couch. Mom reminded me to spread my legs apart when I sat. Oh, how gentlemanly. Keep that bad boy visible all the time. Abby couldn’t take her eyes off of it.
 
We went through Dad’s rendition about how I would be naked a lot during the summer and possibly even after that. He said they were trying to help me. Yeah right. Then he told them what he’d told me, they could touch my penis, scrotum (Abby needed to have it explained as little bag below his penis), and anus (Abby needed Cindy’s ‘butt hole’ explanation) whenever they wanted, but they couldn’t let anyone else do it without permission from Mom or him. Abby cheered and immediately assaulted my penis with a grab and pull. Cindy just had a devilish look written all over her face. He told them their friends were free to look as much as they wanted and that I wasn’t allowed to retreat to my room to avoid being seen.
 
Dad continued explaining we’d be going to the lake and possibly the beach and that I would be naked when we did.  He also said, if we went to the park, I’d probably be naked. That definitely added to Abby’s excitement.
 
“Other people will see him naked, if we do that.”
 
Mom, patiently explained to her that was the whole reason for doing this to me. “We want other people to see him naked, and we want him to see them looking at him while he’s naked.”
 
Then Cindy had a question we hadn’t discussed. “Can my friends and I take pictures of him naked? I mean they all have cellphones and I know they’re going to want to.”
 
Mom was first to respond, “Well, we hadn’t given that any thought. What do you think Ron?”
 
Dad responded matter-of-factly, “Well you’ve seen my boyhood photos. Back then it was acceptable. Even had them developed and printed at the drug store. I don’t see where having images of him exposed out there should be a problem at his age. I suppose if the girls want to take photos with their cellphones that’d be alright. Isn’t that just part of breaking the modesty streak? Cindy, if you or your friends want to take pictures of him go ahead.” Then he turned to me, “You have any questions about that Jack?”
 
“Why? Would it matter if I did?” That arrogant tone was really risky. That was belt type of insolence. I wanted to call it back and try a less provocative response, but, thankfully, Dad ignored it.
 
“Hey what are these things? Mom, there’s lumps in his bag. What are those?” The little shit was fingering my ball sack.
 
“Those are his testicles. All boys have those in their little bags, Honey. You be careful playing with those you can really hurt him if you’re not careful.”
 
I wanted to close my legs to limit her access, but it really was arousing feeling her little fingers chasing my testicles around. I just didn’t want to admit it or overreact while she was exploring my boy parts.
 
“Abby, you listen to Mom. You can feel those but be very careful.” Dad impressed it upon her a second time.
 
“Why’s his peepee so stiff? Are they all this hard?”
 
Cindy was quick to answer that one, insufficiently I might add. “He’s got a boner. Boys get them when they are excited.”
 
That remark drew Mom’s ire. “Abby sometimes boys’ penises get hard. Jack’s will be hard a lot this summer. Whenever he’s embarrassed, it’ll get stiff. Whenever someone touches it, it’ll probably stick out like that. Anyway, Honey, it’s something boys’ penises do. It’s not called a boner in this house.” She cast a disgusted look at Cindy. “We call it an erection.”
 
Satisfied, Abby pinched the skin of my scrotum and pulled on it. She verbalized the softness of it but fielded no further anatomy instruction.
 
The meeting ended. “Jack, go up and put on board shorts and a t-shirt. No underwear just the shorts. Your sandals are in your closet. You and Dad need to go get your summer clothes. Abby, let go of his penis and go pick-up your room. Cindy, I could use some help cleaning up the kitchen. Let’s go kids, get a move on!” She was back to the jovial cheering and clapping. We all scattered.
 
I can’t tell you how relieved I felt when I slid on those board shorts. I got the feeling of coming home. I hated the exposed legs, but I loved the covered appendages. The t-shirt just added to my comfort level.
 
It didn’t take long for Dad to direct me to the pile of shorts I was allowed to choose from. Of course, they were on the clearance table. Half price in my mind because nobody wore them and they wanted to get them out of stock. They reminded me of the “jogging” shorts or track shorts I’d seen on TV. Even at clearance prices, they were definitely overpriced in my mind—there wasn’t much cloth there. And no fly? You mean every time I pee, I’ll have to pull the front down or pull up one of the legs? Maybe the elastic waistband was expensive. I was told I could select the colors I wanted, but that I had to select six pairs.  
 
Further down on the same table were t-shirts. Fifty percent off. The only problem was they weren’t the polyester, neon colors that were in style. If I am going to be all leggy and stuff with the short shorts would it have been too much to ask for more stylish t-shirts? Oh, hell no, it was Dad and he knew how to squeeze a dollar. Six cotton t-shirts chosen to coordinate the shorts color later Dad gave me a navy blue pair of shorts and light blue t-shirt and told me to go put them on and bring him the boardshorts. I was permitted the privacy of the change booth to make the switch. Guess it could have been worse. He could have made me change right there on the sales floor in front of the whole world.
 
I slid the shorts on and couldn’t help but look at myself in the change room mirror. I looked like what Mom called lanky. In my mind there was simply too much leg showing. I couldn’t help but pull up the hem on the left leg. There it was my circumcised glans fully exposed and I had only raised them about an inch. A little further and my ball sack came into view. I couldn’t wear those things! My package would be on exhibit anytime my legs were spread! I had to find a way out of my predicament.
 
“Dad I don’t want to wear these. Look the leg holes are wide open and when I sit down people will see my thing. Can’t we find some a little longer?” I huffed a bit in frustration and tried to put on a desperate look to strengthen my plea.
 
“Yeah, I know. When I was a boy we had to wear these kind of shorts for gym class, and we weren’t allowed to wear underwear either. Used to call them peek-a-boo shorts because of it. I remember when we went off to high school and got to wear jock straps. That kind of took away the peek-a-boo part. I mean people couldn’t see your junk, but your ass cheeks were still open to viewing when your legs were in certain positions.” He gazed toward the ceiling as if enjoying the reminiscing.
 
I tried another argument, “Yeah, but all the other boys had to wear them too, when you were a kid. Nobody wears these. None of the other boys wear these. So, why do I have to?”
 
Then he made eye contact again, “Look, Jack, seeing your boy equipment is really the idea here. We want you to become a little less self-conscious of people seeing your boy parts. I know you will probably be the only boy wearing such short shorts this summer and I know you will be when you go back to school, but you have a great looking little body there and your mother and I want you to show it off. You have to build a stronger body image and this is how we’re going to do it. Now enough complaining, go try these on.”
 
As I left the change room, I’m sure other customers could see my blush. I quickly felt a cool draft of airconditioned air surround my balls. Actually, I found that momentary burst to my genitals kind of pleasantly exhilarating. But then, almost immediately, my penis started to misbehave. I became concerned that as it hardened it would lift the hem of one of the legs and the tip would be exposed. Of course, it didn’t help for the saleslady to say, “What a beautiful pair of little boy legs. Do you ride your bike a lot?”
 
I didn’t understand what the hell my bike had to do with it. So, I smiled, my face still red with embarrassment and asked, “Why?”
 
“Well most little boys your age don’t have quite as muscular legs as you do.” Boy, that was brutally honest of her. I know she was trying to be complimentary, but that’s not how I took it. Those were the kind of remarks that made me want to disappear from sight.
 
I really wanted to tell her, “Enough about my legs. Just tell my Dad how much he owes you. We need to get out of here before my penis head makes an appearance.” But I didn’t. Instead my penis became a tent pole and pushed my shorts to the limit. The feel of my glans rubbing the cotton material felt good physically, but the embarrassment of my very obvious condition overrode any good sensation that resulted. I cupped my hands in front of my crotch as I desperately awaited the bag to be handed to, hopefully, me. I’d hold that sucker nonchalantly in front of my groin and it would provide the cover I needed.
 
She handed the bag to Dad. He knew what was going on and for some reason just said, “I’ll carry it.”
 
Noooooo. “No, Dad, it’s my stuff let me carry the bag.”
 
He got a devilish smirk and said, “I’ll carry it! You need to start getting used to that.” It was plain he wasn’t talking about me getting used to him carrying the bag.
 
Frustrated, I closely followed my father as we left the store. I used him as cover. We walked out the door and were greeted by burst of warm outside air. It was much more comforting to my low hanging fruits than the earlier cold air blast was.
 
A group of teenage girls approached from the parking lot. I quickly brushed my crotch hoping to reorient my protrusion. As I did so I kept thinking, don’t do it too obviously. Just make the move seem like a casual adjustment. I pushed my little buddy downward. It momentarily paralleled my leg. Then as I moved my hands back to a more socially acceptable position, I detected the feel of the cloth of my shorts resting on the shaft of my penis. My wood had popped back up and was now a joist supporting the leg opening of the shorts. My glans was fully exposed and pointing directly at those girls and at least half of my scrotum was openly visible. One of the girls noticed it and laughed as she brought it to the attention of the others.
 
I reached down in a panic and pressed my hands over my penis. Dad had been fully unaware until those girls reacted. Looking at me, he finally realized what was going on. “I think they liked your little show there, Buddy! Someday you won’t be quite so bothered by it.”
 
The girls approached. The one who’d discovered it first said, “Hey, kid, nice peepee. It’s looks nice out. I think you should leave it out.” The others laughed at her chiding. I didn’t. Talk about embarrassed.
 
Dad chuckled too. “See that wasn’t so bad now was it? You know, you’ll probably never see those girls again, and they won’t see you. So, what’s the harm? You made their day. They made mine.” He chuckled again. “Maybe we should have asked if they wanted to cop a feel, huh.” He added that just to make me feel worse, I’m sure.
 
Before I could get the seatbelt fastened, Dad told me to take off the shoes, shorts and t-shirt. I was going to ride home naked? I’d often had to change for the beach in the car, but those times I’d had something to put on after I’d removed the other garment. I tried to reason I could take them off at home, but he wouldn’t hear of it. I had to be naked for the ride home. As I reluctantly complied, it dawned on me that I’d have to get out of the car and walk to the house nude after we got home. Our house was on a corner lot. Corner lots don’t provide a whole lot of cover. Not only that the house was about fifty feet from the garage. That made me nervous. Actually, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been naked outside the house, if ever.
 
Knowing Mom, I definitely must have spent some toddler time outside naked, but it had definitely been flushed from my memory. Wasn’t sure whether it was a premier or an encore but it was clear, at eleven years old, the performance was about to begin. What if the neighbors were outside? What if my dumb sisters had friends in the yard?
 
“Come on, Dad. Let me just wear them until we get into the house.”
 
“Jack, it won’t make much difference. You might as well get used to it now. Everyone is going to see you in the end. No, you just stay naked. And, spread your legs apart! You need to get in practice. Your mother would be all over you, if she saw you with your legs together.” Then to make a dig he added. “Besides, Abby would have to fish around to grab it, and we don’t want that do we?”
 
I stared out the window trying to shift my thought process. I was frustrated, embarrassed, and worried about what awaited me when we pulled in the driveway. Dad broke the solemnity with, “Jack, I know this is going to be tough to get through, but it’s for your own good. Look, you are endowed better than most kids your age. You should be proud. It’s nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed by. People are going to be excited looking at your body. Quit worrying.”
 
I teared up. “They’ll make fun of me.”
 
“No, Honey, they won’t. They are going to admire you. Well, at least your body. You’re a very good looking young boy. All of you is very attractive to look at. You’re going to be fine.”
 
The rest of the ride home was silent.
 
We pulled into the driveway and as almost predictably, Cindy had two of her girlfriends riding circles on their bikes in the driveway. As the car approached she excitedly pointed and everyone stopped riding. The three girls supported their bicycles straddling the center bars as they waited in excited anticipation. I could see it in their eyes, “Will he be naked or won’t he be?”
 
Dad pulled up to the garage door. “Jack, get out and open the garage.”
 
“Please, Dad, don’t make me, please.” I was definitely scared and desperate.
 
“I said, ‘go open the garage’. There’s no time like the present. And remember don’t cover your penis.”
 
With my penis hard as a rock, I opened the car door and slowly slid out. One of the girls gasped loudly and hollered, “Look! Cindy isn’t lying. Her brother is naked.”
 
I quickly slid the door up and Dad drove the car in. I shut the door staying inside the garage.  Dad got out and said, “Let’s go show Mom you new duds.” He exited the side door and headed to the house. I remained behind the door and watched as the girls put their bikes down and assembled a welcoming party five-feet from the back door of the house.
 
I decided the faster I could transverse the walkway and get in the house the better off I’d be. The plan was working fine until my sister blocked my path, reached down and grabbed my erect penis. “Hey, look at this, isn’t it cute?” I pushed her away and entered the house. She was a little put out at being repelled, but I didn’t care.
 
Cindy and her friends came in the house right behind me. She immediately informed Mom that I pushed her. My defense was that she got in the way and grabbed my penis. After ironing it out, I was reminded that she had every right to feel my boy parts and that I was going to get the belt as a reminder not to do that in the future.
 
Mom summoned Dad to the kitchen. She explained I needed a reminder about my sisters’ right to feel my body wherever and whenever they wanted, and that I wasn’t to rebuff them for it. She told him I needed the belt. He slid his belt from his shorts and told me to grab either side of a kitchen chair. Cindy and her invited audience were wide eye and their mouths agape. I begged forgiveness and promised to never do it again. The begging didn’t work. Dad just nodded to indicate to get into position. I began crying before the first stinging welt was place.
 
No sooner had I bent over than the first snap was heard and I lurched forward. It was followed by another snap that resulted in a pain sharper than the first. Then another. Then another. The girls were no longer giggling.  They were gasping at that point. I was audibly bawling and begging for cessation. Then another snap. I could feel the heat developing between stinging contacts.
 
He finished. Mom then asked, “Why did Daddy have to spank you?” Talk about feeling like a little boy.
 
“Because I didn’t let Cindy feel my penis.”
 
Then she did the unheard of. “Stand there. Put your hands on your head.” I did so tears streaking down my cheeks. “Cindy go over and feel your brother’s penis and scrotum.” She approached me with her hand down to grab my package and wearing an arrogant ‘I told you so’ grin. Her friends had the look of disbelief and envy. Cindy locked on to my penis giving it a tight squeeze and firm pull. Then she jostled my ball sack with her fingers while she looked back at her friends as if to say, “I told you so”.
 
After a few minutes Mom said, “That’s enough”. She turned to Cindy’s friends, “Girls do you want to feel it?” I couldn’t believe it. All I heard after that was the voice of Michelle verifying what she thought she’d just heard.
 
“Can we?”
 
“Yes, but only this once. The only ones allowed to feel his penis are his sisters, unless his father or I invite you to. I think his behavior today entitles you to feel him too. Go ahead if you want to.”
 
They did. No surprise there.
 
Not knowing the ground rules and not having a male sibling, Michelle decided to pinch the contents of my scrotum when she felt the testicles. I buckled in pain. Mom explained the whole anatomy thing to Michelle and Jenny and asked the three girls to be gentle when the felt me. Oh, she gave the two visitors an all-day pass to my attachments and she even encouraged them to explore my “bottom” (which was her code for my anus). Thankfully, nothing was inserted by them. They just looked.  But, they saw to it my penis was hard most of that day.
 
And, so it began. You should hear what happened when Roger became aware of my predicament, but that’s another story. I can honesty point to my eleventh summer as the summer of my discontent, not to mention my entire sixth grade school year—bare legs and peek-a-boo crotch at school and around town, completely naked at home and other selected venues. Maybe I’ll share some of the experiences later. In the meantime, let your imagination run wild.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 




   
   
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