Robin: Part 8

Robin and Hal had plenty of time to consider their predicament as they stood, both totally nude, in Hal’s mother’s kitchen. Heather and Shirley discussed what they’d just witnessed and wondered if any of their friends had ever watched a boy being masturbated. For her part Carol got on with clearing things away while the boys waited to see what was in store for them.

The day’s events had certainly revolved around Robin and there was no doubt it was entirely due to his doomed attempt to outwit his mother in the matter of play-clothes. Foolishly Robin had thought that by ‘forgetting’ to pack clothes, clothes that he was ever more embarrassed to be seen wearing, his mother might, since they were on holiday, consent to buy something Robin considered a little more suitable for a boy his age. How on earth Robin expected this to happen he couldn’t say, after all it’s not in a boy’s nature to think these things through. Robin just thought… no, let’s be honest, Robin didn’t think.

So, as he stood in the nude waiting to see what Veronica was going to bring from her mother’s shop, Robin had plenty of time to reflect that perhaps his play-clothes weren’t that bad after all. He thought of the shortalls which had been his everyday play-clothes for as long as he could remember. And now, even though Robin was fourteen years old, mum still insisted on him wearing his childish shortalls when he was sent out to play.

Or there was the bibbed dungaree shorts that no boy over the age of about seven would have been seen dead in. The dungaree straps were always adjusted to pull the shorts high up and between Robin’s buttocks leaving the entire length of his legs quite bare and a few good inches of his bottom too!

Mum was always on the lookout for a bargain and this had also led to even more inappropriate play-clothes purchases for Robin. When she saw some stretchy nylon shorts in an end-of-line sale at Woolworth’s, mum snapped up half a dozen pairs for her son. Designed for boys up to the age of eleven at most, the brightly coloured shorts were tight as a drum when worn by fourteen year old Robin. With a fully elasticated waist, the ‘pull-up’ style nylon shorts had no inner lining and left Robin feeling very vulnerable indeed.

Other boys who lived in the neighbourhood wore jeans and T-shirts, but not Robin. Other boys wore trainers, but not Robin who wore sandals when playing. Sometimes an old pair of school sandals, but often or not it was a pair of plastic sandals such as you would see being worn by young children and infants at play on a beach.

It was not unusual for Robin to be sent out without a singlet. Robin didn’t have any ‘proper’ T-shirts to wear, although one of his aunts did insist on buying him T-shirts (and other clothing) for birthdays and at Christmas which had been printed with the most juvenile images imaginable. Robin well remembered the birthday present from Aunty Georgina he got when he was twelve. Even Robin’s mum thought aunty’s present a little inappropriate… which was saying something. Although mummy didn’t actually say anything to her sister Georgina for fear of seeming rude or ungrateful. Rudeness was something mummy simply would not tolerate and of course she was obliged to set an example in front of Robin.

“But, mummy… they’re… My Little Pony...” Robin whimpered as he held up the T-shirts printed in the vividly coloured, horribly cute pony characters. Underneath each pony character were the words ‘I’m Special!’ It was enough to make any boy want to weep…

“Oh, but that is kind of you Georgina…” mummy gushed, “Say ‘thank you’ to Aunty Georgina, Robin.”

“But… but… mummy…”

“Robin I asked you to say ‘thank you’ to Aunty Georgina… or would you prefer a spanked bottom and an early bedtime for your birthday?”

“No, mummy…” Robin replied.

“Then let me hear you say ‘thank you’ to your Aunty Georgina.”

If experience had taught Robin anything, it was that a spanked bottom from mummy was at all costs to be avoided and if the price to pay was the humiliation of thanking his aunt for the abominable My Little Pony T-shirts, then so be it. Robin, with all the sincerity he could muster, thanked his aunt and secretly prayed that he would never have to wear one of the T-shirts in public… or anywhere else for that matter.




Back at Lockton on holiday with mummy and staying at Aunty Daisy’s house, Robin stood with head bowed. Standing next to Robin was his new friend Hal who was also staring glumly at the floor. Things hadn’t gone too well for the two boys and there didn’t seem to be much hope of any improvement.

“... well, I think it’s the least you two can do,” Robin’s mum said.

“But, mummy…” Robin pleaded, “It’s not fair…”

“It wasn’t Robin’s fault he fell into the nettles and got tangled up in the brambles…” Hal offered.

“That’s got nothing to do with it,” mum countered, “You were very fortunate Carol and the Girl Guides were able to administer First Aid to Robin. Heaven knows what might have happened if they hadn’t been… those scratches might easily have become infected and who knows what that could have led to…” mum paused, but only to gain breath. She continued, “Veronica has been more than helpful as well. I think what she and Carol have suggested is the least you boys can do to thank them for all they’ve done…”

Robin and Hal glanced at each other. They knew mum didn’t know the half of it… and they weren’t about to tell her how Hal had been caught masturbating by his sister Carol and how they’d both been made to cum in front of the girls, Heather and Shirley. No, the boys knew it would be foolish to risk Robin’s mum, or Hal’s for that matter, finding out all the details.

Veronica, who was standing next to Robin’s mum, smiled at the boys. She knew perfectly well what was going through their minds. Working in her mother’s shop, ‘Lockton Boys’ Outfitters’, had given her an unrivalled insight into what she called ‘Boy Psychology’.

“... a few hours helping out at Veronica’s mother’s shop won’t hurt you,” mum continued.

“But…” Robin whined.

“That’s enough!” mum snapped at Robin, “I don’t think I’ve ever met two such ungrateful boys in my life,” she added turning to Veronica.

Hal and Robin fumed. Why, when they were having such a great time together, did events take a turn for the worse. Okay, Robin’s tumble into the nettles had been a blow, but what transpired in Hal’s mum’s kitchen  had been humiliating in the extreme. Both boys had ended up in the nude in front of not only Hal’s sister Carol, but two Girl Guides Heather and Shirley. And if that wasn’t bad enough they were also seen by Veronica who was at that moment thinking of her earlier conversation with her mother:

“Do you remember those Red Indian outfits you got in last year, mummy?” she had asked, her voice full of enthusiasm, “I was thinking that we could dress Leslie in one and have a sort of themed event... I know a couple of other boys who might like to help. We could dress the boys in Red Indian outfits as well and they could stand outside to invite customers inside the shop… I bet they would attract lots of attention…”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves...” Veronica’s mother replied, “Besides those Red Indian outfits are very skimpy and I’m not sure if they wouldn’t be a little too revealing if Leslie was to wear one. They’re really meant to be worn by much younger boys, Veronica, much younger boys.”

Quite unaware of what was going through Veronica’s mind, Robin and Hal found themselves packed off to ‘Lockton Boys’ Outfitters’ dreading what would befall them at the hands of Veronica and her mum, Mrs Cathcart.

Word had got around of how Leslie was ‘persuaded’ to do some impromptu modeling and ended up in the shop-window harnessed and strapped into a highchair. With his bare legs left dangling, a hinged tray had been lowered over his head and from the backroom a brimming bowlful of utterly revolting, cold tapioca had been placed before him.

“It adds authenticity to the display,” Mrs Cathcart had explained.

Leslie, blinkered by a frilly bonnet, looked down at the cold tapioca, now more worried about what was in the bowl in front of him than who might be watching through the shop window. Like a lot of boys Leslie was nauseated by milk-puddings and tapioca in particular. In short, he hated the stuff almost as much as the spoonfuls of castor oil which were another regular feature of his life.

Before Leslie could be fed the tapioca a bib had to be placed around his neck to protect his lemon-yellow shortie pyjamas. Mrs Cathcart thought for a few moments whether to use a towelling bib, or a moulded plastic dribble-bib. Both bibs would be extremely humiliating, Mrs Cathcart realised, but needs must and the plastic bib with its food catcher would help to keep Leslie’s pyjamas nice and clean.

“Do you think Mrs Cathcart is going to feed him?” asked one of the ladies who were standing outside the shop window.

“He can’t very well feed himself now that Mrs Cathcart has tied those mittens onto his hands, Mildred,” the other lady replied and then leant forward to whisper in her friend’s ear, “They stop boys playing with their little willies at bedtime.”
Inside the window Leslie stared, transfixed by the wipe-clean plastic feeding-spoon, full to the brim with the noxious milk pudding, as it was brought closer and closer to his mouth.

“Come along, Leslie… open your mouth for the aeroplane,” Mrs Cathcart said as she moved the spoon, laden with cold tapioca, from side to side in front of Leslie, “Just a couple of big mouthfuls to make mummy happy…”

Leslie’s mouth stayed resolutely shut.

Outside the ladies, and one or two other passers-by, watched to see what Mrs Cathcart would do to overcome Leslie’s obstinacy. They had enough experience of recalcitrant little boys to know what was likely to happen next. They were perfectly correct and watched approvingly as Mrs Cathcart moved to one side of the high-chair upon which Leslie was perched. Deftly she reached down and pinched Leslie’s nose, squeezing it tight until Leslie had no choice but to open his mouth for air. The spoonful was thrust into Leslie’s open mouth and before he realised what was happening Mrs Cathcart moved her hands to clamp Leslie’s mouth shut.

Leslie struggled, but was in the end forced to swallow the cold, slimy milk pudding. He choked and spluttered as Mrs Cathcart made him face three more spoonfuls of the hated tapioca before Mrs Cathcart conceded that her efforts were having diminishing returns. To the ladies outside watching, it seemed as if more milk pudding had landed in the dribble-bib than had made its way to Leslie’s tummy. Nevertheless Mrs Cathcart appeared pleased with what she’d achieved as Leslie burped and a few more bubbles of cold pudding dribbled down his chin. Mrs Cathcart made no attempt to clean Leslie’s face since she thought the messy look of the boy added veracity to the display. Both bowl and spoon were left in front of Leslie on the hinged tray and Mrs Cathcart promised Leslie that if he was a good boy he could have some more of the milk pudding later.



It was with the knowledge of what had happened to Leslie that Robin and Hal arrived at ‘Lockton Boys’ Outfitters’. Needless to say both boys were extremely nervous. They hated milk puddings just as much as Leslie, so it was to the boys’ relief they could see no sign of the offending comestible. But their jaws dropped when they saw Leslie… well not so much Leslie, but what he was wearing.

Leslie had arrived at Mrs Cathcart’s shop a little earlier and had already changed… or more accurately been changed into one of the play outfits Veronica thought could be used to help attract customers into her mother’s shop.

Hal spoke first: “You’re not going to make us put one of those on…” He was horrified.

“Not exactly, Harold,” Veronica replied, “Leslie’s a little older than you and Robin, so the one he’s wearing is that much larger than the one’s you’ll be…”

“But his is tiny!!” Hal blurted out, “You… you can see his balls!”

Robin didn’t know what to say. Hal was right though, you could just about see Leslie’s balls hanging below the front flap of the tiniest Red Indian costume Robin had ever seen. And it didn’t take a genius to work out that if Leslie’s outfit was ‘much larger’ than the one’s he and Hal would be wearing… why there’d be hardly anything to cover their boy-bits.

“Your costumes are over here,” Veronica said as she directed the boys to a couple of what looked to them like postage-stamp sized flaps of buckskin laid out on the counter, together with moccasins, headbands, a couple of toy tomahawks and set of bow and rubber-tipped arrows.

The boys’ eyes popped out on stalks. “I’m not wearing that…” Hal said firmly.

“Whyever not?”

Hal turned round and came face to face with Mrs Cathcart whose voice it was. She continued: “I have spoken to both your mothers and they have given their full consent to you boys helping me. Now Veronica has come up with a splendid idea to promote my shop by handing out some leaflets. These leaflets explain that I not only stock school uniforms and other essential clothing for boys, but also play-costumes and outfits such as the ones you’ll be wearing… now that’s not going to be too difficult for you, is it?”

Robin and Hal were too stunned to think of anything to say. Leslie, they could see, had already been ‘persuaded’ into his outfit, so a precedent had unfortunately been set. What the boys hadn’t seen were the tears and tantrums of the fifteen year old Leslie as he was undressed and fitted with his Red Indian costume.

Mrs Darnley, after the ‘success’ of Leslie’s assistance as a ‘living mannequin’ in the shop window strapped into a highchair, had been only too pleased to allow her son to help Mrs Cathcart and Veronica hand out leaflets which promoted ‘Lockton Boys’ Outfitters’ in the town centre. In Mrs Darnley’s mind the more boys who went to be dressed properly at Mrs Cathcart’s the better. Leslie had been taken to the outfitter’s and, under his mother’s watchful gaze, helped to undress by Veronica.

As before there was no consideration given to Leslie’s modesty and he soon found himself standing bare-nude next to the shop counter waiting while Veronica and Mrs Cathcart decided which size Red Indian costume he should wear. Various sizes were considered, held up to the nude boy and then debated with Leslie’s mother. Veronica held a tape-measure up to Leslie and showed how Leslie’s penis wasn’t going to show beneath the small front flap she had selected. The whole process seemed to take ages.

“Please, mummy,” Leslie spoke, “Can’t I wear something with the outfit… some underpants, or.. or a.. a jockstrap… or something…”

“Leslie,” his mother replied sternly, “You know very well that I do not approve of boys your age wearing those… ahem, athletic supports...” she said, referring to her son’s suggestion of a jockstrap to wear.

“... besides, Leslie… who’s ever heard of a Red Indian wearing underpants…” Veronica chipped in.

The ladies laughed at Leslie’s absurd suggestion and it was at this point the tears and tantrums started. Leslie begged not to be sent out in a Red Indian costume where everyone would see him.

“... but that’s the whole point, Leslie,” Mrs Cathcart told him, “It’s Veronica’s idea so that you will stand out and people will see you and take a leaflet…”

“Mrs Cathcart is right, Leslie,” his mother snapped, “And I don’t want to hear another word out of you…”

Veronica took a tissue and wiped Leslie’s eyes: “There, there, Leslie… this isn’t the way Red Indians behave… now is it,” Veronica said as if she was talking to an eight year old, “... they’re not called Indian Braves for nothing are they?”

Leslie shook his head slowly from side-to-side: “No, miss…”

“Good… now let’s get you into your costume… the other boys will be here shortly,” Veronica said and picked up the Red Indian outfit from the counter. Leslie’s outfit consisted of two flaps of unbleached calico that had been sewn with coloured beads. The beads formed decorative, abstract patterns and added weight to the flimsy material, not that this was of much comfort to the wearer. Attached to the top side of each flap was a cord to enable the flaps to be tied together over the boy’s hips.

Veronica held the flaps in place while her mother tied them together. Veronica then carefully adjusted the flaps and it became apparent just how little coverage the Red Indian outfit afforded the wearer. The front flap was a mere four inches wide and little more than five inches deep. Correctly positioned so as to cover Leslie’s genitals, the top edge of the front flap rested on the base of his penis, so that it was perfectly clear he had yet to sprout any pubic hair. It took all of Veronica’s concentration to ensure, from the front at least, that Leslie’s penis was not visible, but try as she might, Veronica could quite cover Leslie’s well-developed ball-sac with the small front flap. Veronica wasn’t too concerned as she knew enough about the anatomy of teenage boys to know that it was more than likely Leslie’s scrotal sac would shrink and rise once outside where the air was cooler.

The rear flap covered even less. The flap was considerably narrower than that at the front and so just covered Leslie’s intergluteal cleft. Leslie possessed a particularly pert bottom and so most of the rear flap was left hanging freely from his curvaceous globes.

Mrs Darnley and Mrs Cathcart spent a few minutes discussing the coverage of the costume and in the end decided it perfectly adequate. Leslie would just have to be careful, that’s all.

As Veronica put the finishing touches to Leslie’s Red Indian costume putting on his headband, arm and legs bands, his mother and Mrs Cathcart took a closer look at the beadwork on the front and rear flaps.

“This outfit is really far to good for Leslie to play in,” Mrs Darnley said as she held up the front flap, not bothered in the slightest that her son’s genitals were exposed, “The beadwork is wonderfully done… and this edging is of a very high quality..”

“Thank you, Mrs Darnley,” Mrs Cathcart replied, “but I can assure you the Red Indian costume is designed and made for boys to play in and we do everything we can to make it as authentic as possible… it’s very hard wearing, so you should have no hesitation in letting Leslie wear it when he is allowed to play outside.”

Veronica stepped back to admire her work. She was pleased with what she saw: “What do you think, mum? When people see Leslie dressed in his Red Indian outfit they’re bound to want to come and take a leaflet to see where they can buy a costume like the one he’s wearing...”

“I hope you’re right, Veronica,” Mrs Cathcart replied, “But even if they don’t, it’ll be a novelty to see a party of Redskins in the town square!”

Leslie’s red face showed how he felt about being part of the forthcoming ‘Red Indian Party’.

It was at this moment that Hal and Robin arrived at Mrs Cathcart’s shop. As has already been related, they were shocked to see Leslie dressed in the Red Indian outfit that covered so little of his otherwise nude body. But what Hal and Robin didn’t realise was that, being a year younger than Leslie, their costumes were even briefer!

It wasn’t until they saw Veronica holding up their outfits the boys noticed something different about them… something was missing.

“Just a minute,” Hal said, “There’s only one flap each!”

“There should be two flaps!” Robin spluttered.

“Yes… one for the front and one for… for... to cover your bum!” Hal exclaimed.

“The word you’re looking for is ‘bottom’, Harold,” Mrs Cathcart said somewhat primly, “... and if I hear any more language like that in my shop I’ll see to it that particular part of your anatomy gets sent a message with the aid of my hairbrush…”

“A spanking on your bare bottom, Harold,” Veronica said, making it plan to the boys what her mother meant.

“But… but, why aren’t there two flaps? There should be two flaps for each of us… like Leslie,” Robin said, repeating himself.

“That’s because you’ll both be dressed as ‘Tenderfoots’...” Veronica started to explain.

“What do you mean?” asked Hal.

“In olden days all Red Indian tribes had young Redskins called ‘Tenderfoots’,” Veronica continued, “These were young boys about your age… most of the time they ran about without any flaps at all… in the nude in other words…”

Robin and Hal were astonished and stood with their mouths agape, until Hal managed to gasp: “What! Nothing at all… completely nude?!!”

“That’s right, completely bare,” Veronica confirmed and carried on with her explanation, “But when they were old enough and had been initiated, the Tenderfoot Indians were allowed to wear a flap at the front when they joined their elders on expeditions…”

“Wow!” was all that Robin could manage to say as Mrs Cathcart and Mrs Darnley exchanged glances that revealed to each other how seriously they took Veronica’s explanation of the Red Indian way of life.

“You mean we’ve got to wear what the tenderfoots wore,” Hal said as he tried to grasp the situation, “... just the flap at the front, nothing at the back?”

“Yes, Harold, that’s correct,” Veronica conformed, “Now it’s about time you two boys got undressed and into your tenderfoot outfits…”

“I don’t want any fuss from you boys,” Mrs Cathcart said to Robin and Hal, “... or your mothers will hear from me straightaway… do we understand each other?”

The boys nodded and chorused: “Yes, Mrs Cathcart.”

“Oh… there was something else,” Veronica said and rather theatrically put a finger to her lips, “What was it? Let me see… oh yes, Carol told me to tell you that Heather, Shirley and she would be dressing up too and coming along to help you boys…”

“Dressing up?” Hal asked cautiously, “Dressing up… as what?”

“Why Carol said they’d all be dressing up as Red Indians as well…”

“WHAT!!” Hal and Robin gasped.

Leslie too, couldn’t believe their luck. His Red Indian outfit might be dead embarrassing, but the opportunity to see Carol wearing something similar made it seem almost worth his humiliation. Leslie fancied Carol something rotten and she was the object of many of his fantasies. The idea that he would soon be seeing her in a skimpy Red Indian costume, resembling his own, caused a distinct movement of his front flap.

“I thought your sister might have told you, Harold,” Veronica said.

“Carol doesn’t tell me anything,” Hal protested.

“Oh well… perhaps she wanted it to be a surprise,” Veronica replied, “Now, come along, we’ve wasted enough time…”

The boys got undressed and handed their clothes over to Veronica and her mother for safekeeping behind the counter. The two boys, now nude, stood and waited for Veronica to help them with their Red Indian outfits. With just one flap to each boy it made it easier for Veronica to tie them in place. The special tenderfoot flaps were narrower then the one Leslie was wearing, but they were noticeably longer. At first Robin thought his costume was ‘pretty cool’, until Hal pointed out the narrowness of their flaps… their only flaps, meant that viewed from the side it was ‘dead easy’ to see their nobs.

“Doesn’t it feel weird without anything covering your bottom?” Hal asked Robin.

Robin had to admit the lack of a rear flap did indeed feel strange, but he thought to himself that it was a small price to pay if he was in with a chance of seeing Hal’s sister dressed in a similar Red Indian costume.

“Don’t forget your tomahawks boys,” Mrs Cathcart said and handed Hal and Robin rubber tomahawk toys.

“How come Leslie hasn’t got a tomahawk?” Hal asked, “Why can’t we have bows and arrows?”

Robin giggled and whispered into Hal’s ear: “It’s because he’s already got a big chopper…” and glanced meaningfully at Leslie’s front flap, behind which his penis was very obviously stirring. Hal looked at Leslie and started giggling as well.

“What are you boys laughing at?” Mrs Cathcart asked.

“Nothing…” Robin answered as he and Hal fought to stop themselves from giggling any further.

Veronica put feathers in the boys’ headbands and they were all ready for the walk into town.

“Do you think they’ll be alright?” Mrs Darnley asked Mrs Cathcart as she watched her son Leslie and the bare bottoms of Robin and Hal as they left the shop and stepped out into the street.

“Don’t worry, Veronica knows what she’s doing,” Mrs Cathcart replied, “She’ll look after the boys.”

“Is it true what she said about Carol and the girls? Dressed as Red Indians, I mean.” Mrs Darnley asked.

“I believe so,” Mrs Cathcart answered, “But… well, let’s just say the boys are going to get a bit of a surprise with they see how squaws were dressed …”


Story Index

 

Lucas and the Holiday Swim-Trunks

 

“It’s about time we bought you a new pair of swim-trunks for you to take on holiday, Lucas,” mum announced unexpectedly one evening, a few weeks before their planned holiday at the seaside.

 Lucas was delighted at the prospect. He was now fourteen years old and believed mum would at last buy him a pair of swimming-shorts, or board-shorts, like other boys of his age wore at the seaside. Lucas hated wearing his ordinary speedo-style boy-trunks, which mum had bought him when he was eleven. Now that he was older it was hard not to notice Lucas’ boy-bulge, now quite prominently displayed in the little trunks, and which was dead embarrassing for a boy his age. Lucas, a naturally self-conscious boy, was convinced that whenever he was made to wear these flimsy old swim-trunks in public, girls would notice his bulge and stare at it… which was almost certainly true!

Lucas had been pestering his mum to buy him some boy’s swimming-shorts for ages. He kept dropping hints and saying how his trunks were too small and that when he wore them you could even see his bottom! This argument didn’t impress mum one little bit. She took the view that Lucas should get lots of sun and fresh air when they went to the seaside; that was the whole point after all. She therefore decided Lucas needed to wear as little as possible.

However mum seemed not to be aware of how self-conscious and body-shy boys can be as they enter puberty. It didn’t occur to her that Lucas aged fourteen was far more modest than Lucas age eleven. Like lots of mums, she simply saw no need to treat Lucas any differently now than when he was a little boy.

When Lucas asked if he could have some swimming-shorts for their forthcoming trip to the seaside mum simply smiled: “Well, let’s just wait and see shall we?” was her response. Lucas took this to mean that he was in with a chance to see his wish fulfilled.

The week before their trip to the seaside mum was ready to take Lucas along to the old-fashioned outfitters in the small town near to where they lived. Lucas, in spite of or because of what mum had said, had been left on tenterhooks. He desperately wanted a pair of swim-shorts and couldn’t bear the thought of wearing anything as revealing as his speedo-trunks any longer. Once more he started to pester his mum and was getting himself perilously close to a spanking.

 “Lucas, I don’t want to hear another word from you  on the subject,” mum said firmly, “Let’s see what the shop has in stock… I’m sure the nice lady will help us choose what’s best for you…”

“Yes, mum,” Lucas replied and consoled himself that whatever his mum bought for him had to be better than the little speedo-trunks he’s been wearing for the past three years; three years during which he’d grown, but his swim-trunks had remained resolutely the same size. Still, Lucas kept his fingers crossed in the hope that he would soon be running along the beach in a pair of proper boy’s swimming-shorts.

Unbeknown to Lucas, mum had already been in touch with the outfitters and when she arrived with Lucas the kind lady in the shop knew exactly what mum had in mind for her fourteen year old son.

Lucas was a handsome young boy and the shop owner, Mrs Steel, was always pleased to see him, never more so than when Lucas was dressed in his smart short-trousered school uniform, such as he wore for outings to her shop. Mum always insisted Lucas dressed smartly whenever she took him visiting or shopping and Lucas knew smart dress meant full school uniform whatever the day of the week, including school holidays!

Mrs Steel had been measuring up Lucas for his short trousers for quite a few years and knew that mum liked short trousers to be as brief as possible, often insisting they be re-hemmed and taken up when necessary. It wasn’t a school day, but Mrs Steel expected Lucas to be smartly dressed in his school uniform and she also knew mum kept Lucas’ hair nice and smart too. No straggly long hair that reached down over his ears, or even worse touched his collar, for Lucas!

Mrs Steel liked to see a boy with hair kept very short and would quite often recommend mums take their sons to an old-fashioned barber she knew who gave boys a proper schoolboy short-back-and-sides. Lucas’s hair was breathtakingly short and when he arrived with his mum at the outfitters it was apparent he’d just paid a visit to the barber for a ‘trim’ to tidy him up and make him presentable for his visit to Mrs Steel’s shop. It was a joy for Mrs Steel to see such a boy with such a short haircut. However, it was easy for her to see that Lucas had not enjoyed his visit the the barber’s chair and she imagined how he must have felt as the barber combed what little hair he’d left on Lucas’s head before reached for the dreaded electric clippers. As the barber flicked the switch and the clippers started to buzz, Mrs Steel imagined Lucas must have prayed it wouldn’t be as severe a ‘trim’ as last time. Though to judge by the results, Lucas’ prayers had not been answered and Mrs Steel marvelled at the severity of the expert haircut given to the fourteen year old boy. The nape of Lucas’ neck, the sides and round the ears had all felt the benefit of the clippers.

“What a lovely little fringe… so cute,” Mrs Steel said as she looked at the top of Lucas’s forehead, “Have you been to the barber’s shop for a nice trim?”

Lucas blushed. He felt embarrassed already: “Yes, Mrs Steel…”

“I’m pleased to hear it. It does a boy good to have his hair trimmed regularly, especially at this time of year,” she replied. In truth the time of year didn’t matter at all, as this was Mrs Steel’s standard response and recommendation.

Lucas stood and fidgeted nervously with the hem of his short school trousers. He did not look at all like a boy of fourteen, more like a gangly eleven year old, which on reflection, is probably just what mum intended in her determination to keep her son from associating with and coming under the influence of undesirable boys his own age.

The visit to the barber’s had left a red imprint on the back of Lucas’ bare thighs from the hard, plastic covered wooden plank which he was made to sit on when having his haircut. As with all junior boys the barber insisted Lucas sat on the plank placed across the arms of the barber’s chair, ‘to raise him up properly for his haircut’. It was an humiliating experience for a boy of fourteen, but as long as Lucas wore short trousers, the barber saw no reason to change his rules.

“And what can I do for you today Mrs Rudge?” Mrs Steel asked as she looked up from examining Lucas’ haircut.

“Lucas and I are going on a trip to the seaside and I need to buy him…” mum paused and turned to her son, “I think you’re old enough now, Lucas, why don’t you tell Mrs Steel what you need for your holiday?”

Lucas was shy at the best of times, a trait Mrs Steel found quite endearing in boys of Lucas’ age, and he blushed again as he spoke to the outfitter: “Please miss, er... that is, mummy says I could have a new pair of swim-trunks to take on holiday...”

Mrs Steel smiled. The opportunity to tease Lucas could not to be resisted: “I’m not likely to sell your mummy an old pair of swim-trunks, am I Lucas?  You’ll be wanting a nice new pair of boy’s swim-trunks… and you’re in luck because I’ve got some of the latest styles just in!”

Lucas grew even more red-faced at being teased and didn’t like the way things were going. The way Mrs Steel had said the words ‘boy’s swim-trunks’ had him worried and he tried his best to say something about what he wanted to take on holiday. Lucas started to mumble something about swimming-shorts, but Mrs Steel appeared not to hear him as she carried on talking:

“... and I guarantee you’ll be the only boy on the beach wearing them… won’t it be fun to show them off in front of everyone? These new trunks are called ‘Speedo UltraSlim’. I’ll show you a pair and if your mum likes them, you can try them on…”

Lucas didn’t like the sound of this at all! He didn’t want a new pair of speedo trunks… he wanted swimming-shorts like all the other boys would be wearing on the beach. The thought of wearing another pair of brief and very revealing speedos made Lucas feel nauseous. Why couldn’t he wear board-shorts? What was wrong in wearing swimming-shorts that covered his knees?

“Please, miss…” Lucas began nervously, realising he had to say something before it was too late.

“Yes, what is it, dear?” Mrs Steel asked.

“I… I thought… I’d like a pair of swimming-shorts this time please…”

“Oh, Lucas… you don’t want to wear those baggy old things!” Mrs Steel said almost laughing at the suggestion, “A boy your age needs to wear proper swim-trunks… swimming-shorts are for much older boys…”

“I just thought…” Lucas caught his mother’s eye and realised from her look, signaled to Mrs Steel, (‘Boys! What will they think of next?’) that his cause was hopeless.

As he pondered on the injustice of not being able to do and wear what he wanted, he watched with trepidation as Mrs Steel leant down to pull out one of the trays in the display cabinet she was standing behind. She pulled the tray right out and placed it on top of the counter. Lucas could see it was filled with pairs of brightly coloured boy’s swimming trunks… there were no shorts to be seen.

“Now let me see,” Mrs Steel said as she rummaged through the tray. She moved a few items of boy’s swimwear about before holding up the flimsiest-looking pair of boy-trunks imaginable. “Here they are!” The ultra-slim speedos appeared to consist of nothing more than a tiny pouch held in place by thin strands of material. They were clearly not designed for boys had any issues with modesty, never mind boys such as Lucas who were entering puberty complete with its attendant problems of uncontrolled erections. The ‘Speedo UltraSlim’ boy-trunks certainly were frighteningly brief and Lucas was terrified mum would make him wear them at the seaside. He’d never seen anything like them before.

“I can’t wear that!!!” Lucas cried when he saw the tiny, ultra slim boy-trunks and realised they were meant for him to wear, “Please, mum… please... Can’t I have some swim-shorts like the other boys…?” he pleaded as tears began to well up in the corners of his eyes.

“Oh don’t be so silly, Lucas. Mrs Steel says these are the very latest style of swim-trunks for boys your age…”

“... but mum, I’m fourteen and those trunks... they’re tiny… I can’t wear them… please don’t make me…”

Lucas, his eyes damp, pleaded and pleaded with his mum as Mrs Steel stood by calmly holding up the ‘Speedo UltraSlim’ boy-trunks. She was used to this sort of behaviour in her shop, but knew mum was determined to have Lucas wear the super-slim trunks at the seaside. Mrs Steel knew Lucas was wasting his breath.

“Might I make a suggestion?” she said when Lucas paused for breath, “I’m sure if Lucas was to try on a pair…”

At these words fourteen year old Lucas fought back the tears as he again pleaded not to be made to wear such tiny speedo trunks, but he was ignored. Mum thought it a good idea and gave her approval for Lucas to try on the swim-trunks right then and there in the shop under the watchful, experienced eye of Mrs Steel.

“I’m sure that once Lucas tries on a pair of ‘Speedo UltraSlim’ trunks he won’t want to wear anything else at the seaside…” Mrs Steel said as he moved towards the small changing-room, “Come along Lucas and let’s get you sorted out…”

Lucas knew when he was defeated, but pinned his hopes on mum having a change of heart once she saw him wearing the embarrassingly brief ultra-slim boy-trunks. Glumly he walked over towards Mrs Steel.

Mrs Steel put a protective hand on Lucas’ shoulder and turned back to speak to his mum: “Would you like Lucas to try on the trunks properly…?” she asked.

Lucas didn’t understand what Mrs Steel meant, but mum must have done by the way she replied: “Certainly… it will give us a much better idea of the fit.”

Lucas was ushered into the little changing-room booth and Mrs Steel told him to take off his school uniform. There wasn’t much room in the booth and Mrs Steel was half-in and half-out, so the curtain was left open.

“What? Everything?” Lucas said when he realised the Mrs Steel wanted him completely undressed.

“Yes, of course ‘everything’, Lucas… how else can mum see you try on the trunks properly.”

“Can’t I have the curtain closed…?”

Mrs Steel rolled her eyes upward and wondered what it was with boys: “Lucas, you should know by now that boys cannot be left unattended in the changing booths… Now come along… let’s have everything off, so you can try on your new swim-trunks…”

Even to Lucas this seemed a bit premature. What if the trunks didn’t fit? Lucas thought. It’s almost as if mum and Mrs Steel had made up their minds already. It was so unfair!

“Hurry up, Lucas… the sooner you get undressed, the sooner you can try on your new swim-trunks,” Mrs Steel urged Lucas when he continued to dither in the changing booth. “Get a move on… mummy’s waiting.”

Lucas had little choice but to undress and, under the watchful eye of Mrs Steel, he did so. With the curtain pushed to one side, he could also see his mum standing over by the display counter. Lucas wasn’t sure what she was looking at, but finally thought it best to get a move on before mum found something else equally hideous for him to try on while they were shopping at the boys’ outfitters.

As he removed each article of clothing, Lucas dutifully handed it to Mrs Steel ‘for safekeeping’. Lucas was even told to remove his ankle socks and sandals, which he did and this left him standing in just his white cotton junior schoolboy underpants as Mrs Steel disappeared with the clothes she had collected, explaining as she did so how there was no room for them in the little changing booth and not to worry, they would be perfectly safe, words that nevertheless made Lucas feel more anxious than ever.

Lucas looked nervously at his mum who seemed to be more interested in the contents of one of the display cabinets than what was happening to her son in the changing cubicle. His instinct, like that of any other boy, was to push his hands between his legs even though he was still wearing his underpants. But Lucas knew this sort of behaviour was frowned upon in Mrs Steel’s shop, so he stood straight and waited with his arms at his side.

In some ways the wait, standing in nothing but his little white school uniform underpants, was worse than if Mrs Steel had insisted he remove them together with all his other clothes. It reminded Lucas of his regular appointments with the school nurse; waiting outside with some of his classmates, all of them wearing nothing more than their school regulation underpants. He recalled how they would chatter nervously among themselves, each boy dreading the moment when the nurse would pull their underpants right down for their genitals to be inspected. The boy’s Tanner Stage assessment would then be made and noted on the boy’s medical record. What was worse was coming back out into the corridor afterwards. Quite often a telltale damp spot on the front of the boy’s underpants would indicate the boy had ‘lost it’ during the nurse’s inspection and at the very least had dribbled some boyish pre-cum. Occasionally the waiting boys would see an obvious erection pressing against the cotton fabric of a boy’s underpants. On one memorable occasion Lucas recalled how the door to the nurse’s office had been flung open and for a totally nude, weeping boy to be ushered out clutching his underpants. The boy, one of his classmates, had then sprinted down the corridor with his semi-erect penis bobbing about between his legs. Boy-goo could been seen glistening on the boy’s thighs. Lucas and his classmates had been stunned into silence. They knew only too well how it could so easily have been them!

If Lucas had thought he might be allowed to keep his junior boy’s underpants on as he tried on the new swim-trunks, he was mistaken, for no sooner had Mrs Steel returned than she pulled up a stool and sat down in front of Lucas. She raised her arms and placed her hands either side of Lucas’ hips. With her fingers she gripped the waistband of his white schoolboy underpants.

“Righty-ho! Let’s have these underpants off shall we…?” she said breezily, “You can’t try on your new swim-trunks wearing underpants, can you, Lucas?”

Lucas hated it when grown-ups like Mrs Steel made him agree with their pronouncements. Mrs Steel made it sound as if he wanted to have his underpants pulled right down right there in the shop, when the truth was quite the opposite. Nevertheless, Lucas, who had been brought up to be polite, meekly agreed with Mrs Steel and her experienced hands were soon at work tugging at the waistband of the little white underpants.

Lucas’s lower lip curled inwards as he felt his underpants being lowered. Mrs Steel knew from experience that it was best to uncover the boy’s bottom first and then to bring her fingers round to the front of the waistband as sometimes she needed to deal with a boy who had become a little ‘over excited’, as she patronisingly called it when the boy’s penis was aroused. Lucas was fortunate in that his penis was behaving itself and merely wobbled a bit as it came into view as Mrs Steel drew down the elasticated waistband. Without pausing the underpants were pulled all the way down to Lucas’ feet. Lucas held onto the sides of the cubicle as Mrs Steel lifted one leg then the other to relieve Lucas of his last remaining item of clothing.

Lucas stood, framed by the changing booth, fully nude and embarrassed beyond belief, as he waited for Mrs Steel to continue with the ‘fitting’ of his new swim-trunks. Lucas looked over towards his mum. She gave him the ‘don’t you dare misbehave and show me up’ look that he knew so well.

It was in situations such as this that Lucas became even more acutely aware of how he lacked any sign of pubic hair, even though his penis and testicles were as well developed as any of his classmates. At least once a week Lucas could be found in his bedroom performing the most elaborate contortions as he searched in vain for any little hairs that might have sprouted around his penis. One of his friends, the proud possessor of a tiny patch of feathery boy-hairs at the base of his penis, swore blind that rubbing spunk around his nob had done the trick. Lucas followed his advice, but so far the results had been disappointing and he was still the same; still as bald as a billiard-ball ‘down there’. Another boy told Lucas how after wanking he would scoop up  some of his spunk with his fingers and then lick them clean, swallowing his cum in the process. The boy had proudly shown Lucas proof of the efficacy of this method when he pulled down his trousers and underpants to reveal ‘luxurious’ patches of boy-hair sprouting at each side of his penis. In reality these were no more than half a dozen wisps of light downy hair, but Lucas’ friend was proud to show them to him nonetheless. This boy also had no hesitation in recommending his regime to Lucas. Lucas, however, was less than enthusiastic and so far had only hesitatingly sniffed at his own boy-cum before cleaning himself up after a wank.

The fact that Lucas had yet to sprout any pubic hair was undoubtedly one of the reasons Mrs Steel treated him just as she would a much younger boy. As it was Mrs Steel didn’t think it a matter of importance to give any consideration to a boy’s modesty at the best of times; to boys such as Lucas who were so obviously deficient in certain aspects of their pubertal development, the thought did not even occur to her.

Mum was no better. She still thought of Lucas as her ‘little baby boy’ and as such gave no consideration to the fact he was an age at which privacy was becoming important. Mum would enter Lucas’ bedroom without bothering to knock on the door at the most inopportune moments. More than once she had walked in and caught him lying on his bed masturbating. Unlike some mums she knew, Mrs Rudge was prepared to accept Lucas’ need to play with his penis, indeed she had observed this behaviour when her son was far too young to know what he was doing, so to see him masturbating aged fourteen was something she could easily take in her stride. For Lucas it was, unsurprisingly,  a different matter entirely and when mum came into his room carrying a pile of his clothes to be put away, just when he was on the verge of cumming, was deeply embarrassing. He had rolled over onto his front and pleaded for his mum to leave, but she had insisted that Lucas shouldn’t be upset and that it wouldn’t take her long to put his clothes away, then he could finish playing with himself.

That probably hurt Lucas more than anything; the fact that mum knew what he was up to! Mums weren’t supposed to know about that sort of thing. It wasn’t fair. Boys ought to have some secrets after all. But it hadn’t stopped Lucas from exercising his wrist at every opportunity. He continued to assiduously rub the fruits of his labour over the base of  his bald penis and wonder when Mother Nature would deem him old enough to sprout some pubic hair.

As Lucas stood bare-nude, waiting for Mrs Steel to fit him with his new swim-trunks, he could be forgiven for wanting to get the whole thing over and done with. He still couldn’t understand why he couldn’t have some swim-shorts to wear and it upset him no end that he was supposed to see it as some sort of honour to be the first boy to wear the absurdly brief speedo. Mrs Steel came back and held up the ‘Speedo UltraSlim’ trunks in front of Lucas.

“Here we are!” she chirruped in her annoying, patronising way, “All ready to try on your new swim-trunks?!”

Lucas looked at the little scrap of material Mrs Steel was holding between her fingers. How can she possibly call that a pair of swim-trunks? he wondered. “Do I have to…?” he pleaded once more.

“Oh, don’t be such a little silly-billy, Lucas,” Mrs Steel replied, “Everyone will be so envious when they see you wearing your new trunks at the seaside… I bet all the girls will be chasing you!”

This made Lucas blush even more. The thought of wearing so little and having girls in swimsuits chasing him on the sand was enough to make his penis stir right there in the shop… never mind what might happen on the beach! The thought of having an erection in the tiny trunks Mrs Steel was holding up was mortifying. Even Lucas’ modestly sized hard-on could not be contained within that sliver of boy’s swimwear.

Lucas managed not to think about wearing so little while being chased on the beach and in so doing kept his penis under control as Mrs Steel lifted his legs, one at a time, in order to carry out the fitting of his new swim-trunks. Mum watched as Lucas stood still to allow Mrs Steel to pull up the embarrassing ‘Speedo UltraSlim’ trunks. When it came to Lucas’ ‘boy-bits’, Mrs Steel had no hesitation in taking them in her hand to tuck them into the ludicrously small pouch which formed most of the trunks. Next she turned Lucas around in order to straighten the strap that slipped between Lucas’ bottom cheeks. Mrs Steel fussed about making sure the ‘Speedo UltraSlim’ trunks were fitted properly, pulling and smoothing the waistband and tugging at the sides of the little front-pouch.

“There… how’s that?” Mrs Steel asked as she stepped back to admire her work.

Lucas caught sight of himself in a mirror and found it difficult to give and honest reply to Mrs Steel. It would be foolish to attempt to describe the level of shame and embarrassment felt by the fourteen year old. To his horror Lucas realised that if he felt like this in the shop, what on earth was he going to feel like wearing the flimsy speedo on a busy family beach?

As Lucas contemplated the inevitable humiliations in store for him at the seaside, mum called him into the shop so she could have a ‘proper’ look at the new swimwear. Lucas didn’t move. He was glued to the spot, terrified to think of what it was going to be like wearing the ‘Speedo UltraSlim’ trunks on holiday.

Mrs Steel took him by the hand like a little boy: “Come along Lucas, don’t be shy, mummy’s waiting…” Her experience in dealing with uncooperative boys like Lucas showed, as with ease she firmly guided him forward, out of the comparative safety of the little changing-booth.

“Arms up!” Mrs Steel ordered as she lifted the hand she’d been holding, “... so mummy can see your new swim-trunks properly.” Lucas did as he was told and Mrs Steel turned to his mother, “What do you think?”

“They’re just what I had in mind, Mrs Steel. I do think the fashion for these long baggy shorts boys wear these days sets such a bad example and I’m sure it can’t do them any good at all…”

“... harming their health you think?” Mrs Steel adroitly interjected, “I agree. Not enough sun getting to their legs can lead to a lack of vitamin D, you know. That’s why we always recommend boys wear proper short trousers at all times and proper brief trunks when they go swimming,” Mrs Steel added as she gave an authoritative medical reason for Lucas to wear the absurdly revealing ‘Speedo UltraSlim’ swim-trunks. “You won’t finding us stocking those harmful long swim-shorts in our shop.”

Lucas’ mum was intrigued by Mrs Steel’s reasoning as she leant forward to examine the super brief boy-trunks more closely. Mum slipped her fingers under one of the straps which was attached to the front pouch of the trunks: “Are these straps quite strong? I wouldn’t want Lucas to have an accident and find his trunks have slipped off…”

As Lucas tried to control his breathing (and his boyhood!), Mrs Steel and his mum fiddled with the straps at the front, back and sides of the ‘Speedo UltraSlim’ trunks. The two woman pulled at the straps and stretched them this way and that as they discussed the undoubted merits of the super brief boy-trunks.

“It’s important to make sure Lucas rinses his trunks properly after he wears them,” Mrs Steel advised, “Lucas should take off his trunks and rinse them thoroughly before he takes a shower to wash off all the sand and salt water…”

“I’ll make sure he does what you say,” mum replied.

“Take a walk around the shop, Lucas,” Mrs Steel said, “See how the trunks feel… get used to them…”

“Yes, that’s a good idea… I want to have a private word with Mrs Steel,” mum added.

Although Lucas was a bit worried about what mum might want to say to Mrs Steel without him overhearing, it nevertheless was a relief to get away from their attentive fingers. The front pouch of the speedo trunks was very constricting and having the straps pulled and examined was more than a little uncomfortable to say the least. As it was the ‘Speedo UltraSlim’ trunks felt like nothing else Lucas had ever worn. Once more he shuddered at the thought of wearing them on a busy public beach, surrounded by giggling girls.

The ladies sat down next to each other on separate chairs. When Lucas was out of earshot mum turned to Mrs Steel and spoke: “I’ve been meaning to ask you something and now seems as good a time as any,” she began, “It’s just that I’ve been wondering to what age you would recommend keeping a boy in short trousers?”

“I’m often asked this, Mrs Rudge. You’d be surprised how many mums have come to me with that very same question. I’ve always maintained there is no reason why boys shouldn’t continue to wear shorts trousers right throughout their school years. Boys can certainly be kept in short trousers during their teenage years, but there is really nothing to stop you extending that for as long as you want… say as long as the boy in question remains under your roof, for instance,” Mrs Steel replied quite calmly and with the voice of experience, continued,. “As long as a boy looks smart and his shorts are tailored properly, wearing short trousers will keep a boy healthy and out of mischief too…”

“I’d really not thought much beyond Lucas’ sixteenth birthday. To be honest I thought when he reached sixteen it would be time to put him into longs,” mum replied.

“Of course it’s entirely up you at what age you think Lucas is mature enough to be allowed his first pair of longs,” Mrs Steel replied as both she and Lucas’s mum watched Lucas as he cautiously and very self-consciously walked around the shop, “All this fuss Lucas is making about wearing a perfectly respectable pair of boy’s swimming trunks would give me cause to consider whether it might not be better for Lucas to wear short trousers until he is much older…”

“Yes… he is being very silly about his lovely new swim-trunks,” mum said, “... and I do think short trousers rather suit him. He looks so sweet when he sets off for school in the morning…”

“... with his legs bare to the tops of his thighs,” Mrs Steel added preempting whatever it was Lucas’ mum was going to say, “And so it should be. Bare legs are healthy legs!” She paused as if waiting for any objection to her statement and when none was forthcoming called out to Lucas: “Come over here, Lucas… Your mother and I want to have another look at your new swim-trunks…”

What now? Lucas thought as he walked towards the two ladies.

Lucas was made to stand close to the seated ladies and straightaway Mrs Steel reached out and pushed her fingertips under the thin straps of the speedo at the front, just below Lucas’ hip.

“How do your new speedo trunks feel now that you’ve walked about a bit, Lucas? Nice and comfy?” Mrs Steel asked.

“Er, I guess so…” Lucas replied.

“They look comfortable enough to me… What do you think, Mrs Rudge? Do you think Lucas is going to be comfortable wearing his new swim-trunks?” Mrs Steel asked.

Even Lucas understood the difference between how comfortable the trunks felt to wear as opposed to how he personally felt wearing them. The thought of wearing the ‘Speedo UltraSlim’ trunks in public on a busy family beach chock full of giggling schoolgirls was not something he could ever feel ‘comfortable’ about. Of that Lucas was certain.

As mum reached out her hand to examine the flimsy swim-trunks, Lucas again pleaded with her: “... do I have to wear them on holiday, mum? Please can’t I have some swim-shorts instead?”

Mum eased her fingertips under one of the thin straps, almost touching the front pouch of the trunks. Lucas twitched and pulled away slightly: “Don’t be silly, Lucas. These trunks are perfect for young boys to wear at the seaside, but we just want to make sure… now stop wiggling about…”

“Keep still, Lucas,” Mrs Steel admonished the young boy, “Mummy and I are trying to make sure your new swim-trunks are a nice fit. We want to make sure you’ll be happy in your new trunks at the seaside… Now turn round so mummy can see the back of your swim-trunks.”

Lucas wasn’t given a chance to say what he thought, or how humiliating it was going to be wearing his new trunks at the seaside. He turned round. There was little to see apart from his bare bottom.

“There, Mrs Rudge… what do you think?” Mrs Steel asked.

Mrs Rudge reached out and touched one of Lucas’ bare bottom cheeks: “You don’t think Lucas might attract attention on the beach?”

Lucas twisted his head round. Was there still hope that mum might relent and change her mind about purchasing the super brief swim-trunks?

“I don’t think so… why should he? I don’t think anyone will be in the least bit concerned about a boy’s bare bottom at the seaside… Don’t give it another thought.”

“In that case, Mrs Steel… we’ll take them, won’t we darling,” Mum said and before Lucas realised what was happening, mum had tugged the ‘Speedo UltraSlim’ trunks down to his ankles… and off, right there in the middle of the shop! “Now go with Mrs Steel and she’ll get your clothes…”

Just then a girl’s voice pierced the air: “Oh look, mummy! It’s Lucas Rudge! He’s in my class at school…”

A horrified Lucas leant forward and clamped his hands between his legs as he saw Ashley Muir, eagerly leading her mother by the hand, walking towards him.

Mrs Steel, upon seeing the new customer, stopped in her tracks and turned to greet Ashley and her mother.

Lucas, was left to stand fully nude in the middle of the shop.

Ashley walked right up to Lucas and said hello. Lucas was blushing so furiously he didn’t know what to do. He opened his mouth, but could form no words. If he turned and made a run for it towards the changing cubicle, Ashley would be treated to the sight of his bare bottom and besides he’d have to try and dodge past Mrs Steel who was standing in his way.

Before he could do anything, however, Lucas’ mum spoke: “Aren’t you going to introduce me to this young lady, Lucas?” she asked.

“Er… Mum, this is, um, Ashley,” Lucas stuttered, “Er, Ashley… this is my, er mum…”

“Ashley…” Mrs Rudge repeated the name, “Is this the ‘girlfriend’ you’ve been telling me about?”

“MUM!!” Lucas wailed in his utter embarrassment as it became clear to everyone that despite whatever it was Lucas had told his mum, Ashley was no more his ‘girlfriend’ than your humble narrator.

All three ladies had that ‘ahh, isn’t that cute… the things these boys say… what will they think of next?’ smile on their faces. Ashley took it all in her stride and stepped even closer to the nude boy. She took hold of one of his wrists and gently but firmly pulled his hand from between his legs, leaving Lucas to struggle with one hand to try and cover his boy-parts.

“That’s so sweet of you, Lucas,” Ashley said as she lifted up Lucas’ hand and held it in front of her, “I had no idea. You silly boy, you should have said something to me…”

Ashley led Lucas by the hand to a chair where she sat down and drew Lucas to her. This time she pulled Lucas’ other hand away from between his legs. Unsurprisingly Lucas’ hairless penis was partially aroused.

“I’ve a good mind to spank this naughty little bottom of yours, Lucas,” Ashley announced, overjoyed to have at last found an excuse to spank the most spankable bottom in her class at school, “Fancy keeping it a secret and not telling me you wanted me to be your girlfriend…”

Lucas stood shamefaced in front of the fourteen year old girl: “I’m sorry, Ashley… I.. I...”

“Never mind, Lucas… I know you’re very shy, but you don’t want all the other girls to think you’re shy… do you, Lucas?”

“No, Ashley…” Lucas hung his head, utterly bewildered and unable to see a way out of his predicament. He glanced over towards his mum and the other ladies, but they were all smiling and saying how cute it was to see Lucas blushing while Ashley held his hands and spoke to him.

“Please… please, Ashley, you’re not really going to er, spank me… are you?”

“I don’t see why not,” Ashley replied, “You’ve only yourself to blame, Lucas. You shouldn’t have told your mummy I was your girlfriend without asking my permission first… should you?”

“No, Ashley… I’m sorry,” Lucas apologised.

“Is that all, Lucas… Isn’t there something you’d like to ask me?” Ashley said, clearly in complete control of the situation.

Mrs Rudge leant over to Ashley’s mother and whispered: “Your Ashley has certainly got her head screwed on the right way… She’s a very mature young lady...” then added, “... but as you can see, Lucas is still in the er, ‘little boys’ club’.”

Lucas was puzzled and instinctively looked towards his mum for advice. Mum rolled her eyes upwards in mock despair at the slowness of her son: “Lucas,” she said, “Ashley’s waiting for you to ask her to be your girlfriend…”

Lucas looked back at Ashley who smiled at him: “Er… Ashley…” He stumbled over his words. It wasn’t easy for him to be standing bare-nude in front of the girl he fancied more than anything in the world, in the middle of Mrs Steel’s shop, with three ladies looking at him saying how cute they thought he was being. ‘Self-conscious’ doesn’t begin to describe how he felt.

“Yes, Lucas…” Ashley said encouragingly.

“Um… Ashley… will you, er, please… be my… girlfriend?”

“Hmm…” Ashley responded thoughtfully. Lucas felt his heart sinking and thought what an idiot he’d been to even think a girl as nice as Ashley could ever be his girlfriend. But all was not lost as Ashley continued, “If I’m to be your girlfriend, Lucas, I think you should pay for being such a naughty boy…”

Lucas’ mouth opened in protest, but Ashley cut him short: “It’s only fair you should have your bottom spanked for saying I was your girlfriend without asking me first… don’t you agree?”

“But… But, Ashley…” Lucas didn’t want to have his bottom spanked.

“Don’t you agree, Lucas,” Ashley said a little more firmly.

Lucas had no choice but to agree if he was to be able to call Ashley his girlfriend, so after another furtive glance in the direction of his mum and the other ladies, gave his answer: “Yes, Ashley…”

“Yes, Ashley… what?” Ashley asked Lucas.

“Yes, Ashley, I agree…” he responded.

“And?” Ashley pressed Lucas to say what he was agreeing to.

Poor Lucas was so embarrassed that he could hardly be heard when he spoke the words Ashley wanted him to say: “Please, Ashley… will you, er, spank my, er bottom for saying you were my girlfriend… before I asked you?”

“Did you tell anyone other than mummy?” Ashley asked.

“No… just mummy,” Lucas responded.

“A spanking should take care of it then… come on now Lucas… over my lap you go.”

After another glance in the direction of the group of ladies, Lucas did as he was told and slowly leant forward to ease himself over Ashley’s lap. Ashley helped him into position and soon had Lucas’ bottom where she wanted it… squarely across her lap. As Lucas was forced up onto tiptoes he realised Ashley was an experienced spanker and he suddenly felt very vulnerable.

As for Ashley, she was in seventh heaven. She had fantasised about spanking Lucas’ bottom for ages, but never in a million years did she think she’s ever have the opportunity. She rested her open right hand on Lucas’ bottom and slowly stroked the smooth, soft curves. Lucas, feeling this, moved a hand backwards in an instinctive attempt to protect himself. Ashley was ready for this and simply took hold of Lucas’ arm at the wrist. She pulled the arm up towards the middle of Lucas’ back and held him tight.

Ashley, now in complete control of the nude boy over her lap, continued to marvel at the flawless globes in front of her. There were, she noted to herself, delightfully faint tan-lines on Lucas’ upper thighs. The tan-lines were to be expected on a boy kept permanently in short trousers, but perhaps not quite so high up his legs. This indicated to Ashley that Lucas’ play-shorts were even shorter than his school shorts. Then there was the tan-line just above Lucas’ bottom. The effect of these line was to draw Ashley’s eyes back to the exposed pale bottom lying across her lap. They also defined Ashley’s target area.

Ashley gripped Lucas’ wrist a little tighter and swung her open right hand down for the first spank across Lucas’ bottom. The sound was loud and sharp. It reverberated around the shop as Lucas let out a shocked gasp and his legs shot out straight. The spank stung far more than he expected and he completed his manoeuvre by criss-crossing his legs. Ashley took the increase in weight across her lap with consummate ease and it was then that her mother turned to Lucas’ mum.

“Ashley does some sitting for a few of our neighbours,” she told Mrs Rudge, “She insists on having spanking rights before she’ll agree to sit… She’s very popular and always in demand.”

“I can see your daughter’s very experienced… I don’t think Lucas is going to forget this spanking in a hurry!”

As the ladies chatted, Ashley was beginning the spanking in earnest and as her hand became a blur and the spanks rained down on Lucas’ rapidly reddening bottom, his legs commenced a vigorous ‘air crawl’ as if he was trying to swim his way out of Ashley’s lap.

So far Lucas had managed to hold off crying out, but as his bottom went from red- to white-hot, the stinging sensation became unbearable and at last he shouted out:

“THAT’S ENOUGH!!! OW!! YOU WIN!! OKAY!! OKAY!! IT HURTS!! ASHLEY PLEASE!! THAT’S ENOUGH!!!”

The three ladies smiled as Ashley simply replied: “It’s supposed to hurt…” and carried on spanking Lucas’ very red bottom and upper thighs. Lucas cried out shamelessly for Ashley to stop the spanking. His words became ever more urgent, until, with tears and sot running freely down his face, they became completely unintelligible.

Finally Ashley rested her hand on Lucas’ burning hot bottom. Beneath her Lucas fought to regain control of himself, but it was no use. When Ashly let him up from her lap, Lucas broke into an energetic ‘spanking dance’, the most entertaining dance any of the mums had seen for a long time. Completely unaware of the spectacle he was making of himself, Lucas jumped about and rubbed his burning bottom with both hands. Even when Ashley called him to have his face wiped, Lucas couldn’t stop himself from jerking up onto tiptoes and bouncing back onto his heels.

Lucas was completely oblivious of his nudity in front of Ashley and the ladies as Ashley wiped his face. Then Ashley took a tissue and held it up to Lucas’ nose before telling him to blow his nose.

This scene prompted a chorus of “Ahhhh… isn’t that so sweet of Ashley…” from the ladies as they smiled and agreed what a wonderful girlfriend she would be for Lucas. His mum turned to Mrs Steel and spoke:

“I’ve an idea Lucas might be needing to wear his new swim-trunks rather sooner than expected…” she said.

“Yes, I see what you mean, Mrs Rudge… the ‘Speedo UltraSlim’ would seem to be the perfect choice for a freshly spanked boy,” Mrs Steel replied with a smile, “I’m sure Lucas will appreciate it if you let him wear his new trunks to go home in… Would you like me to sort out a singlet and some beach sandals for him?”

“Thank you, Mrs Steel. If you wouldn’t mind putting his school uniform in a carrier-bag…”

“Not at all, Mrs Rudge.”

This time Lucas didn’t object when Mrs Steel once more helped him into his backless swim-trunks. Just before he was ready to go home Ashley sidled up to him and stole a quick kiss on his cheek.

“I’ll be your girlfriend, Lucas…” she said and then whispered, “We’ll have lots of fun… won’t we?” as she patted Lucas’ red bottom.

“Er, yes…” Lucas replied as he blushed and wondered whether his bottom could take much more of Ashley’s ‘fun’.


Story Index