Jack in Y-Fronts and his Landlady

Jack had stood, blazing with shame. His hands fluttered. His eyes burnt.

Here Mrs Ellroy and Julia had dropped their gaze to fasten right on his bulge. It's what they mean by this talk of "fine attributes," thought Jack. He knew his bellend was clearly outlined. Smiles flickered while he flushed. They had then scanned his chest with its curly hair and had let their eyes run down his torso and again, over his tell-tale bulge in the front.

Mrs Ellroy then told him to flex his biceps. He had shyly tried to decline but she had insisted and there had been more oohing and awwwing. Through this he had known his cock was drawing itself out and straining the front of the Y even more.

There had been some cover when they sat down to dinner but he thought he saw them grinning at the corners of their mouths when the old lady had pronounced they were having sausages- pork sausages- that she said were "lovely thick pork sausages from Manchester's best butcher" and loaded them onto the plates. They must have been thinking- couldn't have avoided it- what they had just seen in the front of his briefs.

And so Jack settled down to his new life. For breakfast and tea- and lunch on weekends- he would descend the stairs to present himself in nothing but his Y fronts. Otherwise nude. He would be like that helping them wash up, or doing cleaning tasks, working in their backyard garden, watching TV or sitting in the parlour reading the sports pages of The Manchester Evening News, hearing steps on the pavement outside that he feared might turn into unwelcome visitors ringing the front bell.

He knew sooner or later there would be female visitors. The thought had troubled his sleep. And Mrs Ellroy had made it clear he would be presented in his Y fronts.

As he was to Mrs Partridge and her daughters who one evening without warning were suddenly ushered inside when Jack was in just this position. He flattened the Evening News on his lap and, crimson and trembling, half rose to greet the three friends Mrs Ellroy and Julia brought into the parlour.

The family had enjoyed its time with all her lodgers, Mrs Ellroy averred, and the girls had been very fond of Davey.

"Oh, Davey was a great cock!"

Great cock? Jack gulped, then recognised the Mancunian slang.

"We always saw them here- in their undies!"

They all laughed.

"Ohhh, yes, their undies! Their teensie, little Y fronts!"

More chuckles and giggles.

Jack knew they were laughing at him, sitting there in his undies with the paper on his knee. Jack swallowed with apprehension.

So the lively conversation was carried on around him, while the embarrassed naked boy clung to his seat and held the newspaper in place. Whatever they talked about- the beautiful weather, favourite TV programs, movie star gossip, a new espresso bar- their eyes always danced back to scan his torso, to follow the fuse of hair into his midriff and to look at the sturdy musculature of his thighs and calves.

"We loved the boys here...always in their undies. Never anything else," sang the eldest daughter.

"Yes, only saw them in their undies like Jack now. Still...there was the picnic," said the younger. All the females laughed at the memory.

Apparently Jimmy, Billy and Davey were allowed into their jeans and flannel shirts for the trip to Livingston Park where the family knew a secluded forest glade. It was an ideal early summer day and, as the females unpacked, the three frisky young males were itching to get out of their clothes.

"But seeing them clamming around tossing a ball in their Y fronts looked bonkers, out there in the forest with nobody else in sight," said the older girl. "And our mam said to Mrs Ellroy, why not see the young athletes in the buff?"

Jack started. His eyes were wide with terror. They had stripped the three boys?

It seemed, from the females' excited chatter, that Mrs Ellroy had issued the instruction and that Jimmy and Davey had danced out of their Y fronts within seconds delighted to be showing themselves off but the small, fleecy Billy had to be chased through the glade by the girls, captured and pinned down and stripped. That done the boys had stayed naked all day. They had frolicked and played and leapt around, in their birthday suits.

The older sister said she had recorded their charms with a roll of 24 photos on her Brownie Box camera. And it was very popular with her friends. "And mine," said Julia.

"Mine too," chortled Mrs Ellroy. Jack was appalled.

"Some of the pictures were barely decent," said Mrs Partridge with a prurient smile.

"Oh, boys!" muttered the younger daughter.

More laughter, and they all looked over at Jack's groin covered by The Evening News.

The youngest Partridge, an art student, said she had been overjoyed that she had brought her paints and the young males were quickly made models.

"It was very classical, Cupid and Apollo and Hermes in the forest."

"Well, one part took a bit of editing," giggled Mrs Partridge.

"Well, that's common enough with boys," said Mrs Ellroy benignly, with a chuckle.

The girls grinned knowingly and looked across at Jack who was melting with shame. Were they deliberately exciting him? He wondered. But the forest frolic was as thrilling as thoughts of a medical examination by females and in his Y fronts his response was quick and full-blooded.

Julia's eyes darted.

"Look, a clothes sale at Lewis's!"

She was suddenly up, in front of Jack and pointing down at the Evening News. The two girls got up and joined her. Oh yes, one of the girls chirped, look at the lingerie. I like that one, the other declared and poked the illustration so hard that Jack felt the thrust right on his bellend. Before Jack could fasten his grip Julia, grinning like a crocodile, had whisked the paper from his groin...to reveal a tent pole erection jutting Jack's Y front skyward.

Jack froze with the shame.

That the lodger had a member every bit the size of Jimmy's could not be denied.

His embarrassment during the Partridge visit earned Jack no mercy.

Julia enforced a despotic schedule on the boy, forcing him the next Saturday evening after he came home from the Y to dust the parlour furniture. She cruelly selected a very feminine apron for him to wear during this task and overruled his whiney of complaint. When Mrs Ellroy saw him in it- pink, with a big crimson bow and lace edges- she shook with laughter and said he might wear it in their back garden where Julia was insisting the next day he should beat their carpets on the clothes line- even if he would draw the attention of the young couple next door, who often looked out from an upstairs window.

Julia enjoyed ordering him down on his knees to polish the hallway floor and stood there, relishing the sight of his thinly-clad globes stuck in the air. "What a naughty bottom...just asking to be spanked," she had half-whispered once.

"Wh...wh...why?" he had stuttered, looking over his shoulder.

"Every boy has done something to deserve a spanking," she had replied. "From the femael in charge."

A favourite jaunt was to order him on a chair to check light bulbs while she stood looking up at his Y fronts, meditatively smoking her cigarette.

Once Jack was on the kitchen chair, stretching and straining to reach a hallway globe, when Julia declared in a voice quailing with dirty desires, "You know, I could reach out now and take your Y fronts by the hems...and whisk them down in a second."

Jack was possessed by terror...

...and a deeper thrill.

That night, in bed, he had added that to his stock of delicious stories. Trapped on a chair...stretching for the light socket...and the plain, slack-haired girl, cigarette in her lips, reaches out and yanks his Y fronts to his knees...

He had exploded within seconds, and irreparably doused his pyjama pants.

He grew to dislike the gaunt 22 year old who had a supervisory job in a textile mill. He got the impression she had never had a boyfriend but was popular with a circle of girls because of what she could show off for them in her aunt's house.

Yet Jack was even more discomfited to be sitting around in his Y fronts when Julia was working a late shift and it was just him and old Mrs Ellroy.

He shuddered to think about being undressed like this in front of a lady older than his mother who took such a keen interest in his "manly attributes." Who was eyeing him constantly and always ready with a discerning remark.

If there was something on TV like women in swim suits or a passionate love scene he caught her staring at his Y fronts as if she expected a response. Jack thought that this must have been what she liked doing with her other lodgers, the Liverpudlian Jimmy or little, hairy Billy or her own son.

He felt less shamed when in these circumstances a broad-beamed stiffie tented his pants.

His eight and a half inches couldn't be disguised.

Often it was at such a moment she asked him to get up and fetch something. Once as he rose, rock hard after a show with Bridget Bardot, his erection popped out of the elastic of the angled opening. The room was only illuminated with the flickering light of the TV but he saw his landlady's eyes swim with some nameless emotion as he stepped hurriedly from the parlour.

On his third day Jack came home, sweaty and grubby, in his overalls and T shirt. Mrs Ellroy made a fuss about getting him into the bath. "Into the bathroom and peel off those things and I'll put them in the wash," Mrs Ellroy was insisting. Julie hovered, smiling, following the two of them up the stairs.

In the bathroom Jack hauled off his clothes. He felt nervous but at the same time he shivered with a dirty rivulet of excitement. Hell! To be undressing for the old lady and her ugly niece! One by one he passed his clothes out the nearly closed door into the arms of Mrs Ellroy while the water ran.

Last of all he stepped out of his high-waisted Cooper's Y- Fronts and bashfully handed them out. "Good boy!" exclaimed his landlady unseen. Jack quietly closed the door while his cock thrust out thrilled to be released and its owner excited to be nude. He lowered himself into the hot water.

There was no lock on the door. They could burst in anytime, as Mrs Ellroy had to his bedroom on his first night. He let more water into the tub. He stirred up soap suds.

Then it happened. The door opened and Mrs Ellroy stalked in...with an old fashioned, long-handled bath brush.

"Now let me give you a good back scrub," she said. "I can't believe how dirty they made you at work today..."

Gulping, he replied, "Oh gosh, Mrs Ellroy, I can do it..."

"Nonsense. I'll just give you a good scrub down. Just like I used to do for Davey..."

Hell! He was your son- I'm just a tenant. But she's lathering up soap on the bristles, so I've gotta draw my legs together and work up the suds around me. Oh my god, I'm exposed. In a flash she is now scrubbing my neck. Not too hard but up and down, even behind my ears. And oh dear! It's...it's...arousing.

Then his upper back. Around and around in a circular motion her brush was pressing him hard.

The bristles on his skin...

...the shock of his nudity...

...in the presence of this female...

Jack's cock was beginning to stir.

What if she saw what was happening in his lap?

His voice was hollow and plaintive.

"That's all right, Mrs Ellroy. I can manage."

"Don't be silly. You can't reach back here. But not only Davey right up till he left home but my husband as well. All males love a good back scrub...and ladies are good at it. You must like what I'm doing to you, Jack."

"Yes..." His voice was a little boy's squeak.

Looking over his shoulder he saw Julia peeping around the door. She had a smirk and seemed thrilled to be seeing him starkers and shamed and her eyes looked greedy.

Mrs Ellroy was directing the brush under the water now. This made him jolt. At his hips...and, stretching her arm, around his hips! Hell! She was probing to the front of his thighs...golly gosh, he thought! Any further and she'll be brushing my cock and balls! Then to his back again...and down to the upper part of his bottom. His bottom!

The stimulation flowed all over him. His eight and a half inches were rigid.

"Now stand up."

The instruction hit him like a slap. Stand up? With the two of them watching?

He froze.

"Up...up, Jack!"

He was shocked.

"Of course, face the wall if it's modesty you're concerned about...but I'm going to give all your bottom a scrub."

He sat still.

"Why oh why are boys so reluctant to keep their bottoms clean!"

Julia giggled loudly.

Slowly he rose...

...water drained off his muscles...

...his hands were over his groin, flattening his erection...

He twisted so he faced the wall.

A quick glance over his shoulder confirmed the niece had moused her way into the bathroom, eyes out on stalks.

Julia had never seen the nude bottom of a young man that curved so dramatically. More than those of women who won beauty contests in swimsuits.

Suddenly his landlady was using the bristles to scrub all over Jack's two mounds, around and around. He felt himself being lifted into a altered state.

Would this happen every night here? And would he be allowed to shelter his cock like he was now?

Around and around.

She must be making my bum shine!

"Spread your legs," she ordered quietly.

The boy, hypnotised with pleasurable sensations, immediately obeyed.

The long brush was now scrubbing his inner thighs...briskly too!

...and...

...and...

...and...

...oh golly! Gosh! She was scurrying that brush around his undercarriage, the space- that sensitive space- between his balloon knot and his knackers...bumping the back of his bollocks...and...then scrubbing back to his hole. And doing it again...and again...and again...

...venturing now up his crack!

Oh god! She's in my bum cleavage!

"My oh my," she was almost singing to herself. "Yes, I think males need us- us ladies- to keep them clean down here..."

She was scrubbing around and around his arsehole.

Fuck, she's doing my ring piece!

Brushing away, brisk and hard. Jack was in heaven.

"...on their own, Julia, they'll never do it. Or never do it more than once over lightly..."

And she continued rubbing those bristles over the acutely sensitive puckered hole.

Yes, yes, yes, thought Jack, with a warm melting feeling in his tummy. I can't believe it. I have an old woman...my landlady...scrubbing me down...me, naked, standing up in the bath...her and her daughter looking at my naked back while she uses a brush to scrub around my balloon knot, my ring, my hole...and I'm starkers, absolutely starkers...nude as a newt...and I'm holding onto my stalk so they can't see it...it's hard as a hammer...and I'm totally under their control...oh...my...god...I think I'm melting inside...

"Watch closely, my girl because I'll need you to do this someday..."

Jack's tummy flipped at this prospect.

Whaaaadt? The girl will get to do it? Scrub my bottom?

Hell!

Suddenly she was finished.

She told him to wash himself off, dry carefully all over even between the toes and come down to tea, in his Y fronts.

"By the way, I'm now having to wash your pyjamas every morning."

Julia sniggered.

The indictment hung in the air.

Had they discussed his problem with soiled pyjama pants between themselves? Had she shown her niece the stiffened fabric of his pyjama pants, sometimes the shirt when I really sprayed the stuff. Hell! When you woke late at night and your cock was raging and head full of fantastic dirty dreams about being stripped by nurses and examined by lady doctors or having your Y fronts yanked down you had to relieve yourself...and it was so hard to avoid soiling pyjamas and sometimes there was so much of the stuff...

They left him.

Outside the door he heard Mrs Ellroy tell Julia that she should sometimes scrub Jack. He imagined the girl's eyes widen at the prospect.

Standing in white T shirt and jeans, gym bag over this shoulder, he breathed in the chlorine scent of the pool in Manchester YMCA. Athletes were entering from the change rooms, with a slam of the half doors, in a state of complete nudity, cocks swinging. Other gymnasts lolled on the benches, thighs spread and completely unashamed or gossiped with buddies around the Corinthian columns, casually stroking their own chests or scratching their balls. After the torture of Eccles Street the absence of women was a treat, and the easy male nudity.

"Here's our weights room. Looks like you been doin' a bit y'self."

His guide was a leathery veteran nicknamed Johnny- after Johnny Weissmuller, he said- who had enrolled him at the front desk. As he had paid his one pound for a year's full membership Jack relished the one good thing about his Ellroy lodgings: the rent was so low he had the spare cash to fund his body building. That meant access to the treasures of the Y and food- like steak from New Zealand, large bottles of milk, a carton of a dozen eggs, white cheese and liver- food to "feed" muscles worthy of Steve Reeves...or of some of the bigger fellas in Adonis magazine...even of their neighbour, with outsize pecs and Elvis hair style, who he had glimpsed in the garden next door.

The weights room reeked of old sweat, damp walls, muscle ointment. There were racks of dumbbells, barbells and of medicine balls. There were pulleys and straps out of last century.

A swimmer, stark naked, strode past them, sprinkling them with chlorinated water. The young man flung himself on a bench and started a set of chest presses, his flesh of his ball sac and cock lolling over his left thigh.

"A few lengths of the pool freestyle-that's good warm up for a hard chest workout, init?" said Jack's mentor.

"Sure looks it. I'll go and get out of my own clothes."

"Lockers' this way...and remember, you only swim in the bare scud here."

Just like Russell Street London, thought Jack. Or his other London haunt, the Lancaster Road baths.

"...us veterans fought hard to keep it that way- and, like these gadgies..."

He gestured to the swimmer on the bench doing chest presses and a 40 year old doing shoulder presses at a mirror, his tapered cock sitting on globular scrotum. And in the far corner, a man in his 20s showing a V- shaped back and arse cheeks like granite, with Elvis hair cut.

"...we fought for the right to exercise in the buff in the weights room too."

Just like London.

"I'm sorta camp commandant here," Johnny said. "You look a smart young cock. Let me know if I can ever help. Not enough of your generation gettin' into physical culture."

"I suppose you will soon have a medical exam for the apprenticeship?" asked Mrs Ellroy.

It was evening. A Miss Kerr Sutherland was visiting. An old lady, very wizened. She had arrived after tea with a decisive ringing of the door bell. Mrs Ellroy told Jack to let their visitor in. Still at the kitchen table, and in his underwear, he had begged to be spared this, trembling in his high waisted Y-fronts.

Mrs Ellroy had insisted he get used to seeing visitors in his Y fronts. Julia sat, stifling giggles.

"Come on, Jack. All my lodgers. Shy at first but got to love it, showing off their manly attributes. My son Davey enjoyed it so much he hardly went out at nights."

Like a schoolboy to a spanking Jack had risen. The jutting at the Y section could not be overlooked. As he passed Julia she had stared bug-eyed at the wobbling protruberance in his undies. Mrs Ellroy beamed at the sight as if to say, "It's the beauty of having young males here...that jutting in his Y fronts says it all."

He walked down the corridor to the frosted glass and, shaking, opened the door.

Miss Alice Kerr Sutherland had entered glaring at him, at his every inch...looking him up and down, obviously keen to see Mrs Ellroy's latest young man, this 18 year old, with his Teddy Boy hair, oiled and swept back and his stocky weight trainer's physique with his perfect distribution of chest hair.