Rodney's Nude Humiliation Ch. 16

Sometimes the mothers and sisters of Brewer had to pinch themselves. Was this really happening? Here in Brewer, in 1956? It was like a dream come true, a fantasy brought to life. It made everyday existence suddenly more exciting.

Yes, you had to pinch yourself. Because it was now normal that when young men 18 or 20, or even older, got into trouble at home, school, YMCA, church- even at the police station- to subject them to full bodied nudity. In front of females. And the fellas just obeyed. Blushing and shamed to be sure but...(this was hard to believe) they were obedient. They were submissive.

This new standard had taken off, like wildfire.

Perhaps it was the influence of Dr Speight at school medical examinations. Since her arrival all examinations of boys were done in the nude. Mothers had sometimes been involved, and girls at the school had got glimpses. They had been thrilled by the sight of embarrassed, stark naked 18 year old males from their classes. Boys they knew. Oh, those boys were soooo humiliated...

By coincidence, at the same time, there comes along Brewer's most prominent citizen Miss Reilly who celebrated full nude punishment with weekly parties at her home, the grandest in town. There privileged mothers got to see how boys might be stripped and spanked. They had also seen naked males in the garden working off punishments- fit young men in their 20s, with Elvis hairdos or crew cuts in trouble with the police- and been served drinks by them, thrillingly.

They were all women subject to thoughts and yearnings, itching lusts and restless dreams and nagging fantasies. Curiosity about young male bodies. A desire to see their own sons stripped. In short, they were certain to start applying this new discipline at their homes. "The most fun you can have, as a mature age woman," became the standard patter. And seeing a son stripped was sometimes a reward for all you had suffered from a former husband.

Male modesty did not stand a chance.

Then there was Miss Cuff's musical in which boys were near naked: the front flaps on their loin cloths had got shorter and the rear flaps had vanished altogether. The miracle was that boys obeyed this teacher in whatever she asked. It seemed submissive obedience was one of the most delicious things about all these exercises in Brewer: the boys just blushed and trembled and obediently removed their clothes as required and offered up their rears for punishment. Mothers couldn't believe it, this compliance.

"Mine is so...dutiful, about it," said one mother, delighted. "Even with his sister and cousin watching. Dutiful."

"Oh, mine too," agreed her companion. "Even with his grandmom looking on. I thought he'd revolt but no...mysterious really...so acquiescent."

Ever present was another ingredient. Nobody spoke about it too openly but this was the question of inadvertent erections- always hilarious, educational, too, as biological case study and, delightfully, an intensification of the boy's humiliation. But Sarah Maitland's writings, quoted by Dr Speight and Mrs Reilly, legitimised this exposure and made it respectable as punishment. Dr Speight quoted the English writer:

"Total clothing deprivation with the ritual of undressing, or having disciplined young males remove their clothing themselves, mirrors the findings of my years of research in boys' schools in India and the Caribbean. Their nudity brings boys back as they entered the world- naked and under female control. For 18 year olds, emerging from puberty and challenged by adolescence, the role of penile exposure and involuntary erections cannot be underestimated.

"It is hard for females to grasp the depth of a boy's shame at being exposed nude, suffering- the verb entirely apt- an involuntary erection, especially if in front of his mother and other females such as an aunt, cousins or sisters. The combination of such acute shame with the pain of a spanked posterior delivers in every case a splendid measure of passive obedience. When male passiveness is met with maternal or female dominance in a setting of full body nudity- total clothing deprivation- the male aggression subsides into a submissive, gentle temperament, respectful and mindful of women."

They were enticing words.

Even with Miss Cuff's musical- the rehearsals continuing 18 months, a permanent feature of community life- it was impossible to remember a rehearsal where male sex organs had not stuck boldly out, shoving a flap to one side and presenting a teenage engorgment for the delighted inspection of the female audience.

The question in every household was: with our boys so duteous, why not push the limits a bit further? It would mean more to talk about with other mothers and more invitations to Mrs Reilly's and...well, more female excitement at male expense.

The boys were suborned and docile. Why not?

Mark was one of the victims.

Gone were the days when he winced at girls being shown the photograph albums of him at nude swim meets. Now those photos were forgotten- except when his sisters might take them to parties of their friends, to show off their brother's charms. Now it was the real thing. Now he was liable to be stripped, just because his mother wanted to make a point. Stripped on her command- say, once or twice a week.

He hated, for example, having to model that loin cloth Indian costume when his mother had guests, with ladies going ohh and ahh as he stood in the living room. Yes, standing, eyes downcast, knowing the head of his broad, white penis fell well below the tip of the cloth. Yes, they could see his glans in the puckering foreskin. And the eyes of his mom's friends were laser-ing right at it. Her friends, and Amelia, the Negro maid, as she served the cake and coffee.

The end of his penis, and his scrotum too. Yes, his ball sack- that also hung lower than the flap, dragged down by the weight of the balls inside. Imagine, his mom and her friends were getting to see them! And to see him all shaven down there, like the other boys playing the role of Indians. He could hardly believe it!

And when the ladies had had their fill, chirping about how splendidly strong he looked ("Look at those biceps!") and how it must be fun to be in the school musical and how much their own boys liked it, all the while staring at his exposed cock head and scrotum, his mother would slyly ask him to turn around. He would protest ("Aw Mom!") but she would insist. And the ladies then gasped and giggled at his totally revealed ass cheeks...and oohed and aahed. Him standing presenting his bottom, staring at the painting of Yosemite on the wall.

And when he scowled or grimaced and asked to be able to go, he knew what his mother was going to say, and he hated hearing it. She was going to say that boys in Brewer were all going naked, all households were doing it. It was the new disciplinary code. She said yes, all these mothers- the ones looking at him this moment- applied it to their own naughty boys. At which some of the ladies might coo and murmur their agreement...

...and then, as on one terrible occasion, his mom might teach him a lesson by whisking the loin cloth down his muscular thighs, drawing it over his knees and allowing it to slither down this calves. He could hear the gasps. "Oh fuck!" he would think, horrified, facing female stares head on. And the ladies were silenced by all they then saw: one of Brewer's most athletic 18 year olds stripped completely naked by his mother. Confirming, of course, that he had been shaven down there. And what a lot down there there was to see.

"Smooth..."

"No hair yet?"

"No, they shave them at school, if they play Indians. The girls help with that."

"Smooth as a statue!"

Which left him squirming. He saw Amelia, in her maid's frilly apron and cap, standing behind the ladies and smiling her big white teeth as she too took in the sight.

"And you didn't circumcise him, Moira?"

"No, his father's insistence. Leave him in his natural state..."

There were clucks and murmurs.

"As long as it pulls back easily," said one.

"And as long as he keeps it clean," warned another.

All eyes were on his foreskin, he knew. He squirmed, tried to twist away.

"Don't wriggle like that. All these ladies have seen their sons in the same condition."

The same condition.

Oh, that made him feel so diminished.

Right now they sat there, silent, taking him in...perhaps comparing him with their own boys.

Shit, he hated that!

He disliked those evenings when he was ordered to appear in the kitchen- yes, naked- as punishment for some offence. So on such nights he had to carefully strip in his room and walk down the hallway in his birthday suit, hoping to avoid his sisters and Amelia, often with his penis parallel to the floor bobbing in front- and in the kitchen he would have to quickly wrap around his middle that teensie weenie cotton apron- red floral pattern on white background with red ruffles- to sit down and have dinner with his mom and the girls.

He had to suffer their teasing compliments about how the apron looked "ravishing" on him- the red ruffle knotted over his shoulder- or how wearing it and nothing else made him "cuter than a bug's ear" and questions about how he would feel if girls from school could see him now. "Gosh! I bet you would hate that!"

He knew that during the meal at the small table of the kitchen dinette one of them would dive down to the patterned linoleum and notice his tent pole pushing up the cotton skirt of the apron and exclaim "Mom! Mark's got himself excited again!"

He would grimace and blush and his mom would say something like, "Well, he'd better control himself before I get him to do the washing up." The girls would beam at this. Which he would have to do- tenting in his groin or not- and showing off his ass cheeks while standing at the sink, his sisters fluttering around giggling that the red flowered apron "left nothing to the imagination."

"You've got a dimple in both of your cheeks," whispered one sister. "Your muscular cheeks." She giggled.

"And a pimple, just inside your crack," said the other.

Admiring his exposed ass, all the while manoeuvring to take peeks at the front.

One morning his mom burst into the bathroom holding his stripped pyjama bottoms while he hovered, after his shower, pressing a towel to his groin. "What's this?" she asked accusingly, holding up the flannel trousers at a spot that shone as if lacquered, polluted with the effusions of a thrilling nocturnal moment. "Self abuse...or a putrid dream?" She fixed him with a glowering stare. He just nodded, eyes lowered. As if to say, both.

She ordered that after he got home from school he present himself in the pink g-string they had purchased from Logan's department store and do his homework wearing it and not a scrap else, sitting at the dining room table. He swooned at this because he knew what would happen. He would be caught when the girls sidled in- not just his two sisters but also two of their freckled faced neighbourhood friends- and his mom would order him to show his "lovely underbriefs" to the young ladies ("C'mon, don't be shy, Mark, they're lovely and I know you like them") and he would complain and gripe but have to rise slowly and model himself covered only by the knitted cup at the front, his bottom totally revealed. He would be blushing his head off, with the four girls hugely excited.

The freckle faced twins from up the street always looked particularly enthralled, eyes wide as saucers.

There would be a fuss about how sweet the pink looked. Yes, what a "gorgeous" colour and didn't it make him look handsome? And he would have to pose and walk this way and that, and arrange himself, and flex. They liked asking him to stand with hands locked behind his neck, for example, his hips thrust forward. Trouble was he found the pink exciting and that made his penis swell, and the bulge was always forceful, an undeniable thrust. The maid Amelia had once caught him, big eyes popping at the sight of the young swimmer in a (pink) gstring. He had felt so...yes, queer...as her big black eyes roamed all over him, trapped in the living room. Excited and shamed at the one time. What did she think, he wondered, looking at a white boy just about nude?

And the first time he had been made to model for his mother she had looked him over with a slight grin, him standing in his bedroom, wearing nothing except the pink g-string and his basketball socks, his clothes discarded on the bed. His cock had swollen quickly, filling out the pouch. He had been acutely embarrassed that all his pubic hair had been shaved off, only yesterday at school. He felt unmanned.

"Yes," she said in a faraway voice. "It's clear you like them," eyeing the forward thrust in his groin.

Inside the flannel his cock pulsed.

He was so humiliated ("Yes, it's clear you like them") he could only shut his eyes with the shame, felt he had been revealed physically- and emotionally. She knows her son is excited by pink.

Some seventh sense told him all the mothers had talked about how boys seemed to respond to pink, because many boys had related how moms and sisters had insisted on buying pink g-strings from Logan's and thrilled to see their sons in them. "Goodness, that's a girl's colour," sisters might tease. "But it looks so...cute...on you!"

Some boys even hinted they themselves had found them exciting to pull on, but they did this shyly, and only with a close buddy. "I kinda like 'em...the colour?" had whispered Danny with his Elvis hairdo. "Y'know?" And Mark had nodded, furtively. Even stiffening down there at the thought. A pink gstring. And Kerry had worn his under his school dungarees; the others whistled when he revealed them in the changeroom.

On such nights his mother eventually declared it was time for his punishment and off she would march her strong 18 year old athlete son to her bedroom smelling of perfumes and powder. Here the pink g-string would be whisked off and a glance in her mirror confirmed his shocking nudity. Then he would get a lecture about the dangers of self abuse ("Losing all that fluid depletes a young man's strength...it will spoil the pleasures of marriage- if you can ever find a girl who will overlook your reputation") while he shivered, hovering naked inches from her. Another glance in the mirror confirmed his humiliation, and that his cock was stretching. Finally, with her sitting on the edge of the bed, a full nude over the knee spanking would ensue, him with nose pressed into her quilted red bed covering and with the girls in the hall giggling at the sounds of hairbrush pounding rounded bottom and muscular thighs.

Slap!

Slap!

Slap!

His sisters' friends were enormously excited by the telltale sounds, having no brother. Or boyfriends. One twin might be seen with hands pressed to groin, the other with hand idling over her breasts, both with eyes glazed, in the hall and gazing towards the bedroom door. They were hoping for the bonus: a glimpse of the naked boy, his bottom a blazing red and his prick bouncing ahead of him as he shuffled to his room, tears in his eyes.

Often during his nude punishment nights he would shiver with dread at the eight o'clock knock on the front door. It marked the arrival of old Mrs Elsa Geiler, the German-born granny, a favourite of the females. Her make-up was too blatant for a woman of her advanced years and her blond hair-dye too juvenile. There had been talk that after the war she had run a bar in Berlin for Yankee servicemen. Arriving in St Paul she had worked as a nurse. Retired to Brewer, she was seen as "a character" and spoken of as three times a divorcée. Mrs Reilly said Senator McCarthy had told her she was a cousin of Eva Braun.

But here she was, always managing to arrive by magic on nights when he was enduring nude punishment- her, with eager grin, and cigarette holder, clearly looking forward to something- and rewarded with a view of an entirely naked Mark on the sofa watching Rawhide. No embarrassed male had ever flung one leg over the other faster. Or catching him standing in the corner after a spanking, naked as the day he was born, hands behind his back as instructed. Or completing a school assignment at the table- the table his only cover.

Naked head to toe as punishment. Naked as required in Brewer's new male disciplinary regime.

And she would exclaim "Your young man is...im Adamkostum!"

Feigning surprise, even shock. As if to say, "Goodness, how astonishing. The last thing I expected!"

When Mark knew damn well every female was aware of nude punishments in Brewer and he was certain his mother gave the old Nazi advance warning of her intentions with her son.

Her eyes were glistening with sex and mischief.

She would repeat the shaming word. "Adamkostum! Yes, in his Adamkostum!"

She brought to mind pictures of Adam in the Garden of Eden, naked and exposed.

The girls and his mom were quietly laughing, Mark just stood hands clamped over his groin or, if seated, desperately swung one leg over the other- the very picture of an embarrassed naked boy, females grinning at his discomfit. Yes, even his mother enjoying the joke at his expense.

The first time this happened Mrs Geiler explained "Adamkostum" was the German for "Adam's costume." That is, a totally naked man. The girls were thrilled to have it spelt out to Mark's shame. Each could recall being excited by Biblical illustrations showing the completely naked husband of Eve, and had studied them closely.

Adam, in the buff. Perhaps a vine woven about his torso. A delicate cock and ball sac. On Michelangelo's Sistine ceiling Adam displayed a foreshortened nozzle twirling above a compact scrotum. For some girls this might be the first, even the only, image of how males looked nude.

Adam costume indeed.

Mrs Geiler said in the Swabian countryside of her youth they had used the word when a boy was caught naked.

"What, like Mark now?"

"How did it happen to German boys?"

His sisters and their freckled faced friends were wickedly curious. Mark just shrivelled with shame.

Well, she thought, still staring at Mark's exposed genitals. Ah, yes...once...one boy, her cousin in fact...was being naughty in a high roofed barn. Up high, amid the hay. But one of the girls had been lying in wait behind the hay bales and watched him strip and then snatched his overalls and raised the alarm. Other boys, too, at any opportunity, might be spied slipping into the barn...getting out of their "kostume"...so they could...she groped for the word and could only come up with the German one...

"...so they could...onanieren..."

"Ah," said Mrs Campbell, understanding. "The German boys...went to the barn...to strip off...to commit the sin of Onan..."

The girls understood at once.

"Yes, onanieren. Or we might say, selbs befriedigung. Pleasure yourself."

Which sounded wicked.

"And they were caught...naked as Adam!" said one of his sisters beaming. She shuddered at the humiliation. Almost felt sorry for them- their nudity displayed, their shame. Females dressed in folksy Black Forest dirndls, embroided blouses, high waisted skirts.

They all looked at Mark. They knew, from their mother's hushed reports, he and his friends masturbated "like monkeys." He, Rodney, Kerry and Stevie had in fact been caught doing it together, staring at nudist magazines, Sundial and Naked Life. They were apparently excited by males being naked while girls and ladies looked on- this shameful excitement having been confirmed by tearful confessions to their mothers as they faced their punishments.

The whole school had heard about the episode, and the neighbourhood moms and girls in church youth groups had spread the word and the four boys had been pointed out wherever they went.

But then most girls at school told how their brothers were being caught, rubbing away hypnotised, with their eyes glued to lingerie advertisements or pin-up magazines. In fact, it was a game- to burst in on their reveries and catch them. "I sprung him at it, in the bath," a sister might tell her excited friends, "Boy! Was he embarrassed!" And then answer their urgent questions about the anatomical details.