Rodney's Nude Humiliation Ch. 15

"Oh boys just can't help it. The textbooks call them 'involuntary' erections. When the penis starts to stretch they reach a point of no return," explained Mrs Claverback, helpfully.

Mrs Claverback seemed to think, with a far off look.

"Don't hesitate to use my experience if you feel Kerry needs a health check. I still have my health texts and I could take those measurements and run those tests in my sleep. And you might want to be present..."

"I would indeed want to be present, dear. Dr Speight says she wants mothers to be there when their sons are checked. And...I think it would be such sweet fun!"

"Sweet fun! To see your own son embarrassed to his core! Dear, you are wicked!"

The girls' minds were racing.

"Mom, you know how Sam and I said we'd like to be nurses? Like, it'd be a good career and so on?"

"Well, what about us being present, watching and learning, lending a hand? Veronica too."

The three girls were close to panting at the lovely prospect.

"Well..." Mrs Fulbright appeared to think.

"I think that would work a treat," said Mrs Claverback.

So it was settled.

Time for Mrs Claverback to go.

But she had another request.

"Perhaps...your wonderful photography...if I could take a selection with me...to show Dorothy. She's a classmate of Kerry's. She thinks Kerry's always on the point of asking her to the prom but thinks he's a bit shy. She would just love to see him at his best...this one, that shows him ready to dive..."

She picked it up. It was one that showed the boy up on the blocks, penis rearing and bald balls tight.

"...and this lovely close-up...showing all his...er, characteristics. And one of them that shows him bent over...yes, this one, clutching his heels."

Mrs Fulbright chuckled.

"I think your daughter is going to enjoy them very much. Don't you agree, girls?"

The sisters and their cousins agreed.

And each wanted to be the first to let Kerry know when he came home that night. Let him know that Dorothy would be seeing photos of him naked as a jay. He could expect her to be hitting him with a big smile in the corridors at school tomorrow, a big supercilious smile. A wicked smile that says, "How ya going, big fella. Guess what? I've seen all your secrets and yes, you can blush your heart out and look away all you like, but I know what you're like down there!"

And Mrs Fulbright thought she might be the one to let her son have the news, to learn that Dorothy, the Doris Day-lookalike girl next door, the daughter of Mrs Claverback, would be seeing pics of him in his birthday suit.

That would make her handsome son shrivel.

In fact she would insist her neighbour take home 10 at least.

Meanwhile at Mrs Ricketson's, just around the corner, around 20 ladies- and some daughters standing behind them- were at tables for bridge.

Rodney and his friends Mark, Kerry and Stevie had arrived right on time, trembling with expectation. They had blushed deep when they saw the women in a living room full of smoke and fragrant with perfume. Women, and half a dozen girls their age. The boys had been instructed to join Rodney in his bedroom to change into their tights. Then the Negro boy Samson had arrived with Mrs Reilly and their English guest, Miss Sarah Maitland, not wearing pants just a white shirt and black tie under his chauffeur's cap. He was tugging at his shirt front, bashful and excited. Ladies and girls had quickened at his arrival, turned their heads to catch a glimpse of his mahogany bottom cheeks or anything that might be dangling low at his front. He too had been told to go to Rodney's bedroom and strip everything off.

He hobbled off, tugging his white shirt front, barely concealing his mahogany, red-tipped erection and manly balls.

The instructions to the boys had come from Mrs Ricketson and Miss Cuff. The drama teacher had told them to be very attentive about removing underwear. Once absolutely naked they were to assume those Shakespearean tights, sewn by seamstress Mrs Carruthers. No, there would be no blouses and no shoes or socks. Their torsos were to be naked. Yes, just the tights, and some very cute bow ties to be fastened around their necks and young Olivia would be available to help them into their costumes if they thought they needed assistance. No? Alright on your own? Okay, then off with you and back as soon as possible.

"Oh, they're nice lime green tights you have under your arm, Stevie," offered Mrs Nancy Breyer as the red faced boy stumbled after his blushing companions. Stevie blushed deeper and hoped she had not noticed the protrusion in his flies. "Bet you'll look handsome in those!"

In their friend's bedroom they stripped and assumed the tights like doomed men. Mark and Kerry noticed the other three were ram rod stiff struggling to position erections in the tights. Rodney and Stevie were always stiff in these situations, instantly. Samson seemed to like white ladies seeing his ample cock- like at the swim meet. Kerry and Mark said nothing, suspected it would soon be their fate too.

So, 15 minutes later here they were in the kitchen, dressed as instructed. Naked to the waist, cute little bow ties, boney feet bare...and the tiniest, tightest tights in the palest of colours clinging like second skins to their lower bodies.

Shielding nothing.

Not a thing.

"My, oh my," sighed Nattie Jefferson, the heavy bosomed Negro maid who Rodney's Mom had hired for the occasion to prepare refreshments. "What smart young men! I love those cute little bow ties! Let me look at youse all..."

And she took a step back to cast her brown eyes over the five boys, hovering nervously, knowing how much their privates bulged at the clinging, onion-thin, gossamer covering.

Those veins on Rodney's erection were completely revealed through the fairy-thin, faint lime of his covering...

...and they attracted Nattie's attention. She stared right at the young master's groin. She smiled broadly...at his straining, full blooded erection with the veins all prominent.

But before she could say something Mrs Ricketson entered and began the business of issuing each boy a tray of finger food and despatching him to the living room, not without taking a lingering look at each fella's middle...a long look, with a curling smile showing on her lips, which was enough to make each boy want to sink through the floor.

"There, Mark, that door...in you go, and show yourself off to the ladies. And the girls...some of them will be very keen to see you."

So first to enter was a bashful, stumbling Mark, holding a tray of petite cucumber sandwiches. He was conscious all the ladies looked in his direction and were all curious about a near-naked young man with his private parts visible under the sheen of his tights. In fact his broad shouldered swimmer's body tapered into the lime coloured tights as if he had been born with them. In the groin they could see his thick penis settled on squashed, bulky balls, and if truth be told already starting to fill out, outlined clearly. On the point of rearing.

Mark was terrified he would soon be sporting a boner.

Miss Emma Humphrey, aunt of the state's famous Senator, could not take her eyes off the bundle- not even to admire Mark's cute little bow tie or his flat tummy . Her eyes were bulging. And, thought Miss Tina Gray, spinster of 65 years, staring hard at the boy's bulky privates, "How much bigger than what we see on statues, those Greeks and Romans in the art histories!"

Mark froze in front of the transfixed ladies at the table, holding his tray at waist level, hoping it would shelter him.

Coyly, the female hands moved to the tray.

Eyes stayed fixed on the sight below it.

He gulped, as he saw Selena Cross- auburn haired and tall and thin as a witch, standing behind her seated mother- swipe a voracious glimpse of his privates. Shit, she was in his Science class. She lived two streets off. She had been to his house- and his sisters may have shown her pics of him swimming. Either way, her look was...hungry and focused.

His mushroomy glans fleshed out...

...and pushed away from his scrotum...

...and poked forward.

It was a slight movement.

None of the females missed it.

Certainly not Selena.

Who unconsciously touched her lips with the tip of her tongue.

Then Stevie entered. All female eyes swung his way. His nude upper body was aflame with black hair; it swarmed across his chest, down his tummy, flowed into the waistband of those lime-coloured tights; the flimsiest imaginable tights. His thin, short little penis was at full stand, pointing right up, stretching the fabric- he had been rampant most of the day, given his thrilling excitement knowing all these ladies would be looking him over- staring at his hairy chest, his little penis, his pint-sized balls.

Standing before a table of women folk- hell! he noticed Mrs Bosie Bullock, one of his Mom's oldest friends and she was staring right at his stiff dick!- he balanced his tray and shuddered. His erection pulsed. He knew that it was only a matter of time before that telltale fluid would flow from its tip and inevitably, after a further wait, goaded by all those female eyes and smiles, he would deliver a full bodied emission- splosh!- just as at that session where they had tried on the tights with those female teachers when he had astonished himself with a sudden emission, or in those sessions with Mrs Lavender when she had girls his age come to her house to watch him play piano.

Mrs Mildred Slink, whose husband was as hairless as a new born babe, trembled at the sweet fantasy of cuddling this hirsute young man, tingling at the tickle of his swirling body hair. Old Miss Hardcastle, pillar of the Episcopalian Church Ladies Guild, had never seen an erection in her life and stared at the jutting in the boy's groin: the stiff little stem and the suggestion of the hat on the end of the stem.

Standing rooted to the floor behind her seated mother Betty Anderson, with a ribbon across her golden hair, stared as if her eyes would pop right out of their sockets. Oh...my...god! Little Stevie...with that hilarious bow tie...and, goodness, he's covered with hair...a real little monkey...and that penis of his is poking right up! Stiff! She studied Biology in an all girls' class and their teacher, Miss Mildred Passover, had taken lesson after lesson dwelling on boys' anatomy and the facts of life, teaching the girls all the technical terms like Cowper's fluid, meatus, frenulum, perineum. Teaching them about the five inch average, about nocturnal emissions, about involuntary erections. So Betty was thrilled that Stevie's penis was absolutely stiff! Or, she should say, erect, engorged.

Betty suddenly got very damp in her panties.

Kerry Fulbright entered, blushing like a fire hydrant, in his pink tights, knowing that these ladies- his mothers' friends, mothers of boys he knew at school- were going to see the outline of his penis and balls and that he was going to get hard as a hammer. He felt stupid in the silly bow tie, embarrassed that the waist of those damn tights sat so low. Barely reached the top of his cock!

Hell! If he hadn't been shaven for that musical he would have been showing off his pubic bush. There was Mrs Audry Maclintick and her daughter Judith and their eyes were out on sticks, glued on what Kerry knew was his stretching penis stem lying sideways and getting hard and his two balls perfectly outlined in the middle.

Nothing prepared them for the next scene: the arrival of Samson. The mahogany torso of the young Negro boy, arrived only recently in Brewer from Alabama, showed the effects of lap swimming and recent workouts at the Y, under the friendly supervision of Coach Compton. And, it must be said, of evening workouts in the basement of the coach's home with the coach's old mom serving them post-workout meals of liver and raw minced steak. Under the Comptons' guidance the ebony youth had spurted into young manhood, like a Congolese warrior.

His broad upper body with his new muscles on chest and shoulders tapered into clinging ivory tights. So tight they completely flattened his long, broad erection against his abdomen and left his glans straining at the waistband. In fact the tip of his bright red glans was just visible, jutting above the band. In fact the naughty Negro youth had carefully contrived to make it visible. A round, red tip- with the loose banjo string frenulum hanging forward like jowls- sticking out just above the ivory tights.

Meanwhile down each of his legs a fat testicle was displayed.

The hint of a ruby red penis head and those flattened fat balls riveted the eyes of all ladies at the table he came to serve, obediently holding with one hand a plate of mushrooms on dry biscuits.

"What a manly Negro youth!" Miss Diana Manners exclaimed. A 76 year old, her thoughts had sometimes drifted to the days of plantations and half dressed slaves and lustrous male specimens on slave blocks.

Other ladies tittered at her candour, their own gluttony barely concealed.

Samson's eyes swam. Days of going clothes-free at Mrs Reilly's had whetted his appetite for showing his charms to dressed, white, mature age women. Oh, the delight of walking between the ladies around her pool serving drinks, naked as a jay and hard as a hammer- in fact, his erection sometimes flicking the dresses and suits of the mature, motherly women. He was addicted to the sight of their hungry eyes taking it in. Frankly, Samson now had dreams and fantasies about ladies staring with yearning and lust at his rampant dick.

Rodney could delay no longer. He was afraid and excited. He moved forward from the hallway, tray in hand. His white tights bulged in front to accommodate a full, "reach for the ceiling" erection- rock hard, pulsing- with the central artery full defined and many other veins as well but, above all, the flattened glans, sculpted and vast. No pagoda roof in Japan offered a more florid, flowing carving than the shaped corona under the onion-thin material. Even the banjo string veins of his frenulum were visible, defined for the delectation of the ladies.

The five at the table stared hypnotised at the big red headed boy's barely concealed erection.

The thrust of it pushed out the tights, leaving a gap at the top. It was almost an invitation for the ladies to peer in, to inspect the pink glans and its big smile. Or to dip fingers inside and stroke the contents.

Rodney leant forward, the contents of the tray on offer, left hand behind his back as instructed.

Off to the side his mother beamed. What a treat she was offering all her lady friends! How generously endowed her son- look at that whopping, rearing penis in his groin, bursting the fabric of those clinging tights! And what a delightful humiliation for him, as ladies he sees at church or on Elm Street, or who visit us regularly and see him in our home, or the mothers of his friends and girls at his school...get to see him in this state!

That blush is so delightful as he lives out the very image of the shy, embarrassed naked boy, she thought about her own humiliated son.

He would never question her authority, never answer back, never disobey.

This morning she had sat talking to him on the edge of the bath, while he sheltered his midriff behind folded legs and soapy water. His biggest anxiety had been that his sisters and his cousin not be invited to the bridge party.

She had patted his wet, flattened hair and offered him that concession.

And then had offered the new Brewer orthodoxy.

"But Rodney these days it's the most natural thing in the world for boys your age to go naked in front of females. Not to be ashamed of their bodies. For the pleasure of the women folk..."

And she had known she would make him wither with the next argument.

"...after all, I know from those nasty magazines how you and your friends enjoy looking at women with little clothing..."

He had withered.

"...so you might think of it as us mothers getting our own back."

And she had left him to his blushes. His underwater erection had been becoming visible as the soap suds subsided.

Meanwhile at the bridge party it was only a matter of time.

Stevie was the first.

While he stood to the side of the table his splotch came suddenly, like a map of Texas spreading out from his little penis tip all across the front of his tights. He had doused himself and it kept flowing like a faulty faucet.

Rodney was not far from behind, his meatus suddenly secreting globs of Cowper's fluid in a rush and drenching the groin of his tights quite spectacularly.

Ladies noticed instantly.

"Those boys are...wetting themselves!"

"Well, goodness me!"

"Does that mean...they've...ejaculated?"

Rodney's mother was quick to intervene.

"No, Doctor Speight told us it's a lubricating fluid. It paves the way for intercourse. They produce it when they get excited. It's called Cowper's fluid. Right now, surrounded by females...and being so young and impressionable...they generate gallons of the stuff. I guess they can't help themselves..."

Rodney and Stevie hung their heads with shame. Holding their trays. One hand behind their backs.

There was silence. Females stared. The splotches got bigger. They couldn't control it.

"Goodness gracious me. They will ruin those lovely tights."

"They'll spoil those costumes..."

"Better wash them sooner rather than later..."

There were other murmurs of concern.

"Well, yes..."

Mrs Ricketson had her tongue between her lips.

She seemed torn between loyalties, or more accurately, disloyalties. On the one hand, she could continue to keep full male nudity away from the eyes of her friends- save it for herself later- wait till her friends left for the sheer pleasure of stripping the boys of their last vestige of modesty and relishing the sight of their erections. On the other hand, there was the joy of witnessing a decisive humiliation inflicted on her son and his buddies being stripped in front of her friends, and the girls their age.

She whisked Stevie's tray from him.

"Goodness Stevie, you've produced such a mess!"

She dropped to her knees...

...reached for the waist of his tights...

...took hold...

...(making the boy jolt with terror, and something else)...

...and proceeded to roll the tights down...

...pulling the waist band forward to negotiate its way around the jutting and leaking penis.

"No...no, please...Mrs Ricketson," came his protest in a weak, quailing voice.

But Mrs Ricketson kept lowering the garment.

"Not...in front...of them..." came his whispered plea. "Please...Mrs Ricketson..."

He appeared desperate. His eyes caught those of Betty Anderson, from his school, gazing at him intently, idly fingering a strand of blond hair, smiling wickedly.

"...not in front of the girls, please..."

The kneeling lady tugged decisively.

"Oh, please...no, Mrs Ricketson..."

She continued to tug.

Down the tights slid, down his hirsute thighs.

Suddenly revealed were the explosion of damp black hair in his groin and the shiny penis head and stem. Small, and rock hard with his excitement.

Leaking like a faulty faucet, thought Mrs Ricketson. Her friends strained for a view...and tuttered and cooed. Betty's eyes popped! A real penis...an "erection" just like in all the diagrams their teacher had shown them! Stevie was "suffering" an erection...and leaking that "Cowper's fluid!"

Mrs Ricketson instructed Stevie to step out of the puddle of clothing at his ankles.

He did, and handed over the tights, looking down. They all saw a trail of moisture dangling from his petite penis head to his knee.

He felt their stares. Especially that of the girls.

Kerry and Mark had suddenly acquired erections.

The stares of the ladies had done it, those direct and hungry stares at their midriffs. Then there were the leers of girls their age...the sight of their buddies' erections...these too had had their effects. The blood flowed into Kerry's prick (I'm gonna be "suffering" an erection, he thought with panic!) and soon, hard as teak, it was veering off to the side, like a cigarette dangling from the corner of a movie hero's lips, producing a big tenting of his tights.