Thursday, 1 November 2012

Anthony and the Play-shorts

If there was one single item of clothing that Anthony hated above all, it was his Sunday play-shorts. He simply loathed having to wear them and would promise almost anything to avoid being seen in them. Anthony, a sensitive boy who had just turned fourteen, had had boy’s play-shorts bought for him for as long as he could remember and their design had remained the same throughout the years of his growing-up. To Anthony’s increasing dismay and discomfort no allowance had been made for his steady progress towards physical maturity. 

The play-shorts were royal blue in colour and made of thin cotton similar in weight to boy’s junior P.E. shorts. They were elasticated at the waist; easy to pull up, but just as easy to pull down! There was no fly-front. The play-shorts were cut very short in the leg, less than half an inch, and were what the boy’s outfitter called a “snug fit”, by which he meant the shorts were not too loose and not too tight. Anthony’s shorts also had the added benefit of side vents about one inch deep which were designed to increase freedom of movement when the boy was at play. However, perhaps the greatest distinguishing feature of play-shorts, and what set them apart as an object of extreme embarrassment for a boy of Anthony’s age, was the complete absence of a support-pouch. A pouch, or any form of support, was simply considered unnecessary. The wearing of anything underneath play-shorts that might give a growing boy a feeling of security, such as underpants or swim-trunks, was out of the question. The whole point of play-shorts was to ensure lots of sun and healthy fresh air could get to the boys bare legs. Anything which hindered this objective was quite rightly forbidden. 

It might be argued that play-shorts, whilst fine and healthy for younger boys, are not necessarily appropriate for a boy of Anthony’s age to wear. The special design of play-shorts means there is always present the danger of highly embarrassing accidents when they are worn by developing boys such as Anthony. Boys get very self-conscious as they enter puberty, particularly when they find out their penis has a life of its own! However it must be said that accidents do happen when play-shorts are worn, but it’s no use making a fuss and pampering a boy just to save his blushes! 

Anthony’s routine was the same each Sunday. In the morning he dressed in full school uniform for church. He hated having to wear his school uniform on Sunday. Anthony even had to wear it for church during school holidays. Everyone that saw him said how smart he looked wearing his short school trousers… they were very brief. In fact they were shortest short trousers the school outfitter sold. With only a nominal one inch leg, they ensured Anthony’s smooth thighs were kept completely bare. 

After lunch on Sunday Anthony was sent upstairs to his bedroom to change into his play-clothes. His mum always laid out the clothes on her son’s bed in readiness and each Sunday Anthony would sit at the table and wait for the announcement: 

“Time to get out of that stuffy school uniform, Anthony… time for those legs to get some proper fresh air!” his mum would say, as if he wasn’t already wearing the shortest of short school trousers! “I’ve laid out some clothes on your bed for you to change into… now off you go!” 

It is perhaps understandable that having turned fourteen Anthony was becoming increasingly more and more embarrassed at having to change into his play-clothes. In particular he felt shy and awkward putting on the Sunday play-shorts his mum insisted he wore. Play-shorts, he thought, might be alright for youngsters of nine or ten; they could wear them without the embarrassment he experienced, as once again he felt the tingle of fresh air on the tip of his lengthening penis as it peeked out from the all too brief leg of the tiny play-shorts. Even before he was twelve Anthony felt ashamed to be seen wearing such juvenile play-shorts. 

I’m fourteen! Anthony said to himself as he again picked up the thin little shorts from his bed, how much longer is mum going to expect me to wear these? 

The humiliation he felt at having to wear his play-shorts as if it was nothing unusual was becoming unbearable. But his mum insisted and would not put up with any ‘nonsense’ as she called it, from Anthony. As far as she was concerned Anthony was still a boy and as such had no say whatsoever in the sort of clothes he wore. 

But unless something drastic happened the particular Sunday afternoon that was fast approaching was likely to cause Anthony to suffer even more intense embarrassment than usual, for his two younger cousins were due to visit. Edward (13) and Sean (11) had not been brought up in anything like the same way as Anthony. They had been allowed long trousers and fashionable clothes from the moment they could crawl, let alone walk. They could do no wrong. They were always well behaved (at least when grown-ups were about!). They never needed to be told what to do. And they went to a school that had no school uniform! Anthony despised them. 

Anthony begged to be allowed to wear anything, anything, but his Sunday play-shorts in front of his cousins. He pleaded, but his words fell on deaf ears. Anthony was distraught. At fourteen he thought he should have the right to some dignity when he was with his cousins. After all he was older than both Edward and Sean. Couldn’t his mum see that it was his right to wear ‘proper’ clothes; clothes like Edward and Sean? 

“But mum… Sean’s only eleven! He doesn’t have to wear play-shorts!” 

Anthony was well aware of his mum’s rules on the matter of his clothing. She was a firm believer in the beneficial effects of bare legs, forever telling Anthony how healthy it was to let as much sun and fresh air as possible get to his legs. That’s why he would remain in short trousers; for how long Anthony’s mother did not say… All Anthony knew was that it was pointless to argue, indeed argument could be dangerous and what few privileges he had could be summarily withdrawn for he was expected to obey his mum “without delay, discussion or descent.” 

Anthony could never understand why other boys were not subjected to the same short-trousered regime as he was. If it was so healthy for boys to go bare-legged, then why was Edward not in short trousers? Why not Sean? Why not all the boys in his class at school and not just himself? It was all so unfair! 

But Anthony’s mother did not expect to have to explain her reasoning to her son. Anthony was a boy and boys simply had to do as they were told and that was an end of it; no discussion and certainly no descent! 

Anthony knew just how embarrassing his Sunday play-shorts could be… Only last weekend he had tripped and fell over in the garden, landing on his back.  His play-shorts rode right up to expose his penis and what Anthony referred to as his ‘ball-bag’.  Before he had time to rectify the situation the vicar, who was visiting for afternoon tea, looked down at the fourteen year old and saw everything, including the fact that Anthony’s genitals were still perfectly hairless! Anthony blushed as he’d never blushed before and scrambled to get up, conscious the vicar was still looking at his boy-bits dangling from his play-shorts.  It wasn’t until Anthony stood up that he was able to tug at his little shorts sufficiently to hide his boyhood once more and to regain some semblance of modesty. 

As Anthony struggled with his little Sunday shorts, the vicar had smiled indulgently and said: “Never mind… accidents will happen!” This made Anthony feel even worse as it seemed to imply that his ‘bits’ were of no significance at all! 

Anthony had been mortified and in a couple of day’s time he would be expected to dress in his Sunday play-shorts in front of his cousins!  It was too much.  Too much for a boy of fourteen to bear and Anthony actually started to cry in front of his mother as he pleaded to be allowed to wear anything rather than his little play-shorts. But mum didn’t appear to listen and all Anthony’s pleading fell on deaf ears.  The salty tears trickled down his face, enough to melt the hardest of hearts.  He had never felt so low and for the next two days there was nothing that could be done to bring the smile back to his sunny face. 

However, it might have been better if perhaps someone had told Anthony that he should always be wary about what he wished for… 

As it was his mother wasn’t entirely inflexible in applying her rules. Indeed Anthony’s little outburst and the sight of his tear-stained face gave her cause for thought. She knew that only a little boy would get as upset as her son had about something as silly as wearing a pair of play-shorts… whoever was around to see them. Anthony’s behaviour had been immature and that alone, in her view, justified the use of her parental discretion to keep her fourteen year old son in short trousers. As long as Anthony behaved in such a way the longer he would be kept in short trousers. 

Anthony’s mother had listened to his pleading and she decided to surprise her son by granting him an extra special dispensation… 

Just before church on Sunday morning Anthony had stood dressed in his full school uniform ready for his mum’s inspection. As she told him to straighten his long grey school socks and as she brushed a fleck of dust from his school cap, Anthony was thrilled to learn that he would not, after all, have to wear his special Sunday play-shorts in the afternoon. The clouds parted and it was as if a huge weight had been lifted from Anthony’s young shoulders. He would be able to look his younger cousins in the eye. He would no longer have to suffer the indignity of wearing those awful play-shorts in front of them. He wouldn’t have to worry that his cousins might see his penis poking out of the leg of his ludicrously short Sunday play-shorts, or worse, risk complete exposure like he did when he fell over in front of the vicar. Anthony was so relived by his mum’s decision that he almost jumped for joy. 

Anthony was told that obviously he would not be allowed to play with his cousins in his school uniform so before they arrived he would have to change into something more suitable.  Anthony was still so happy that he eagerly agreed to wear anything, anything, as long as it wasn’t those awful play-shorts. 

Anthony was on cloud nine all the way through the church service and the long sermon preached by the very same vicar who only a week before had seen just how humiliating play-shorts can be. Was it Anthony’s imagination, or did the vicar smile knowingly at him during the sermon? Whether he did or not it certainly made Anthony squirm with embarrassment on the hard wooden pew knowing the vicar had seen his nob and everything. After the service the vicar shook hands with Anthony outside the church. Once more Anthony blushed at the memory of his humiliating exposure and could not bring himself to look the vicar straight in the eye. 

He returned home with his mum and after a light lunch Anthony was given permission to leave the table and to go upstairs and change out of his school uniform. Anthony did as he was told. Eager to find out what his mum had put out for him to wear, he bounded up the stairs and ran into his bedroom. 

Anthony was still holding on to the bedroom door handle when he saw what his mum had laid out on his bed; what he would be wearing for the rest of the day. Anthony’s heart skipped a beat. He looked around the room then looked back at what lay on his bed. Anthony looked up again and scanned his bedroom once more to see if he had missed anything. For a third time he looked at what lay on his bed. He couldn’t believe that what was lying there was all that he was to be given to wear. But there was nothing else… 

Nothing… except a pair of boy’s light-brown plastic sandals, the sort that very young boys wear at the sea-side, a tiny yellow ‘Mr Man’ singlet (Mr Happy!) which appeared to Anthony to be far too short for him to wear, and a pair of bright red swim-trunks which Anthony had last worn when he was just nine years old. Anthony’s mouth fell open. But he knew he no option other than to wear what was laid out for him on the bed.

Then he heard his mother’s voice from downstairs telling him to hurry up and change as his cousins would soon be arriving. 

“Well anything’s better than play-shorts…” Anthony said to himself, “… and at least nothing’s going to slip out of swim-trunks.” He started to undress and within a few moments was left standing in nothing more than the white cotton underpants he had to wear as part of his school uniform. With a heartfelt sigh Anthony shoved his thumbs purposefully into the waistband of the underpants and pushed them all the way down to his ankles in one smooth practiced movement. A moment later they were off and Anthony was bare-nude, ready to put on the clothes that had been laid out on his bed. Before he did so Anthony stood and faced himself in his bedroom mirror. He looked down at himself then took hold of his penis and pulling it to one side, searched for signs of any pubic hair. There were none. He lifted up his testicles and bent his head down as far as he could, still searching for some indication of hair on his scrotum. There was absolutely nothing to be seen. 

It seemed particularly unfair to Anthony that at fourteen he should still be utterly hairless where it so mattered to a schoolboy. Why even the youngest boy in his class, Jeremy Evans who was ten months younger than Anthony, had little wisps of feathery hair each side of the base of his penis. 

Anthony picked up the tiny red swim-trunks and for a moment wondered whether he would be able to squeeze into them. He held them up and pulled at the waist to see how far it would stretch. In doing so the crutch all but disappeared as the trunks were so flimsy. Designed for a much younger boy, there was no inner pouch at the front and the back seemed as if it would hardly cover the cleft of Anthony’s bottom never mind anything else! He picked up the little singlet top and held it next to his chest. It didn’t even reach his belly-button. In a fit of frustration Anthony crumpled up the swim-trunks in his fist. To his horror he found the trunks were so small they had disappeared in the palm of his hand. Shocked he threw both singlet and the trunks down onto his bed and flung himself down beside them. 

He looked around his room again… there was nothing else for him to wear. He thumped his bed with his fists in frustration.  

“Anthony!!” It was his mother’s voice again. “Anthony, aren’t you dressed yet? Hurry up!” 

There was nothing for it, Anthony stood up again and picked up the little red trunks. He stepped into them. Gosh, he had grown since he last wore them and it wasn’t only his legs which had got bigger! It was a struggle to pull the trunks right up over his hips and only by wriggling about could Anthony get them over his bottom. But that didn’t allow much at the front to push his boyhood into and his penis plopped out over the tight waistband. 

Anthony pushed and pulled at the tiny swim-trunks until he managed to get his penis and testicles squashed into the front, but this meant the trunks hardly covered anything at the back! Anthony was mortified to peer over his shoulders and look into the mirror to see the tight little swim-trunks had left the top half of his bottom completely bare! The waistband cut right across middle of his bottom and as he watched in dismay the waistband slowly slipped lower to uncover even more of his bare bottom! 

Anthony began to panic. His mum had called up to him twice and he didn’t want to risk upsetting her any further. He yanked at the back of the trunks, but they just squeezed his testicles so much that he could hardly walk and what little material there was available to cover his bottom had been pulled right into the gap between his young bottom-cheeks leaving him completely bare at the back! Not only that but the base of his penis could clearly be seen above the waistband of the trunks at the front and anyone who cared to look would be able to see that Anthony was still absolutely smooth without a trace of pubic hair! 

It took Anthony ages before he was able to make the best of what little protection the tiny swim-trunks offered. Eventually he had himself covered at the front, even though the lower two-thirds of his bottom cheeks were bare at the back.  Anthony left the strings of the trunks untied because he found that when he did try to tie them the crutch was pulled so far up at the front that one or both of his testicles popped out! 

Anthony had to sit on the edge of the bed to put on the plastic sandals. They looked and felt particularly juvenile; just the sort of footwear you see on little boys at the sea-side. As he was sat down he picked up the singlet up from the bed. Anthony recognised it as one that he wore when he was about nine or ten. Why his mum had kept these old clothes of his he had no idea, she must have known they wouldn’t fit me, he thought. Anthony pulled it on, but it was a tight fit. He remembered it had been small five years ago and he was not sure why he was bothering to put it on for all it covered up. The hem of the singlet didn’t reach much further than the middle of his back and at the front his tummy and belly-button were left completely uncovered. The top was very, very tight. Anthony stood up and looked at himself in the mirror. 

They were the most humiliating clothes he had ever had to wear. 

“Anthony!! I want you downstairs this minute!” His mother called again. “I don’t know why it’s taking you so long…!” 

He felt so ashamed that he wished he hadn’t made such a fuss about wearing his Sunday play-shorts. He glanced in the mirror again and then turned quickly away, unable to look at himself any longer. He felt extremely vulnerable and sensed that at any moment a sudden movement might cause his boy-bits to pop out from his little swim-trunks. It somehow felt worse than being completely bare… 

Anthony was only too horribly aware that he was to meet his younger cousins and spend all afternoon dressed in these clothes. He would be expected to play with his cousins, who would no doubt be dressed in trendy new clothes. He would have to sit through tea dressed in silly plastic sandals, little boy swim-trunks, and the stupid Mr Happy singlet that showed off all his tummy and half his back, a singlet that Anthony suddenly realised he was unable to pull down far enough to cover the tiny, humiliating trunks!! 

Then Anthony began to panic again. What would he do if his penis was naughty and started to go all stiff? Like other boys of his age Anthony was constantly subject to unbidden erections throughout the day. The little trunks offered no protection, so any arousal would be immediately noticed. A cold sweat broke out over Anthony’s forehead. 

“I’m coming mum!” he called downstairs and walked uncomfortably along the landing, trying without much success to prepare himself for the afternoon ahead. 

Anthony’s legs trembled as he descended the stairs.  When he reached the bottom a cool breeze wafted into the hallway from the open French windows and brought out goose-pimples on his boyish long and very bare legs. He walked towards the drawing-room and stood in the doorway. 

“About time too!” his mother greeted him, “What on earth took you so long, Anthony?” 

“Sorry mum… it’s just that these trunks are a bit small for me now…” 

“I hope you’re not going to complain, Anthony. You said you didn’t want to wear your Sunday play-shorts today. You said you wanted to wear something different. It was on your insistence that I found something else for you to wear…” 

Anthony apologised: “I’m sorry mum… I didn’t mean to…” 

At that moment he hard the sound of a car drawing up outside followed by the slam of its doors. Then the cheery high-pitched voices of his cousins could be heard as the boys scrunched up the gavel path, racing each other to be the first to press the doorbell. The doorbell!! Anthony felt his tummy turning somersaults. He turned and looked anxiously at the front-door. 

There was a loud, insistent ring of the doorbell as if both boys were leaning hard on the bell-push. 

“Go and answer the door Anthony and let your cousins in before they break the bell,” his mum said. 

Anthony did as he was told but his arms shook as he turned the latch on the heavy glass-panelled door. Through the frosted glass he could see Edward and Sean and he shuddered to think that they might be able to see him. As Anthony turned the catch he heard the voice of his Aunt and, unexpectedly, another adult voice. Anthony shivered with embarrassment dressed in his humiliating swim-trunks and little else. Suddenly the door was pushed wide open by Edward and Sean. Anthony jumped to one side just as he saw who the other voice belonged to; it was the vicar! For the second time that day Anthony felt himself flush with the embarrassment of meeting the person who’s seen him so utterly exposed when he had his accident with his play-shorts.

Anthony could feel his face burning with shame and embarrassment. He could feel his heart thumping as he tried to stand calmly by the door to greet them all. And they would all see Anthony dressed in his new Sunday play-clothes. But little did Anthony know that things were going to get worse; a lot, lot worse before the afternoon was out! 

Being well behaved, though with a supreme effort of will, Anthony held the door wide open and moved to stand smartly at attention in the doorway ready to welcome the visitors. Edward and Sean took one look at Anthony dressed in the little boy swim-trunks that hardly contained their cousin’s bulging boyhood and their mouths fell open. Eleven year old Sean could barely contain himself as he squealed with laughter and had to be pulled indoors by his older brother who looked at Anthony with contempt. Poor Anthony was forlorn. Both boys were dressed in very smart casual clothes with the very latest trainers and both boys wore long trousers. Anthony felt even worse than before; the stylish clothes of his cousins emphasising the childishness of this own. 

Next through the door came Anthony’s Aunt Gladys. Anthony squirmed with embarrassment as his aunt criticised his lack of dress-sense, telling him that he would look “much smarter” if he could be bothered to be more stylish in his choice of casual clothes, completely ignoring the fact that Anthony had absolutely no say whatsoever in the clothes he wore. 

“You should take a leaf out of Edward’s book and get some more fashionable clothes, Anthony,” she said, “I’m sure you like what you’re wearing, but you really ought to think about getting something less childish to wear. I’m sure Edward would help you choose some nice clothes if you ask him.” 

Anthony stood by the door crestfallen. His aunt’s words hurt. It was so unfair. It wasn’t his fault that he wasn’t wearing anything fashionable. Anthony didn’t even have a pair of long trousers to his name… let alone any jeans… let alone any clothes that might be considered ‘fashionable’!
The vicar tried to help by saying that he was sure Anthony felt very comfortable wearing his swim-trunks and brief top… just as comfortable as Edward and Sean were in their trendy clothes. Then added: “Besides, I think Anthony looks just as smart in his swim-trunks… very smart indeed!” In saying these few encouraging words the vicar took ample opportunity to cast his eye over the preposterously brief trunks. Anthony couldn’t help but notice the vicar’s interest and this made him blush more than ever! 

Anthony wanted to scream out that he wanted to wear nice clothes like his cousins, but all he could do was rub his smooth and very bare legs together and hope the little red swim-trunks would hold his boyhood safe… and pray that he didn’t have an erection! 

The vicar continued to gaze at Anthony. Then he spoke. He had spotted something amiss: “Dear me, Anthony… We can’t have this… It looks as though you’ve not had time to tie up your nice swim-trunks properly…” 

To Anthony’s horror he vicar lent forward and took the strings of the little trunks in his left hand and pulled Anthony over to a chair in the hallway. The vicar sat down and pulled Anthony closer until he was standing between the vicar’s knees: “We can’t have you running around with your swim-trunks all undone, can we Anthony?” 

“Please, sir, please don’t tie them up.  They’re alright like that, really they are,” Anthony pleaded with a note of urgency in his voice. 

“Don’t be silly Anthony. I’m sure your mother wouldn’t want you running about half-dressed… and we don’t want them to fall down, now do we?” 

Anthony shook his head and chewed his lower lip. He certainly didn’t want his trunks to fall down, but on the other hand he knew only to well what would happen if the vicar pulled the strings of his swim-trunks too tight. 

“Now just stay still and we’ll soon have them tied up properly… It’s no trouble I assure you…” 

Once more Anthony tried to tell the vicar that his trunks were fine as they were, but it was no good. The vicar wrapped the strings round his fingers and pulled. 

Anthony felt the strings tightening around his waist. Then he felt the legs of the trunks being pulled upwards as they cut into the tops of his thighs and at the same time he felt his ball-bag being squeezed. One more tug on the strings and it happened… A hairless testicle popped out of tight little trunks! One of Anthony’s smooth balls was trapped outside the trunks where everyone would see!! 

Anthony held his breath and looked down at his trunks. Not only was there one of his testicles visible, but the outline of his penis was unmistakable! The vicar didn’t appear to notice anything untoward and carried on tying the knot; a very tight knot that would ensure Anthony’s testicle remained on view. 

Tears welled up in Anthony’s eyes.  He didn’t know what to do.  The vicar finished tying the knot.  He must have seen the hairless ball, thought Anthony, but he didn’t say anything, just looked Anthony in the eye, patted him on the bare thigh, and said, “There you are, all done… nice and smart. Now off you go and play with your cousins!”

Anthony was mortified. He couldn’t believe the vicar hadn’t seen what he’d done, it was that obvious. He couldn’t think what to do. He certainly couldn’t untie the knot; that would be grossly disobedient. He couldn’t cover the exposed testicle without walking round with his hands cupped between his legs and that would only draw attention to his plight in any case. What was he to do! If only he wasn’t wearing the silly Mr Happy singlet; if only he had been given a longer singlet to wear, he might have been spared some embarrassment as he might have been able to pull it down sufficiently to cover the front of the little trunks. But as it was the singlet he’d been given was far too short. 

In the end Anthony realised he would have to take his chances and hope his cousins wouldn’t tease him too much. Fat chance! It was pointless to think that Edward or Sean would let such a splendid opportunity for teasing Anthony pass by. Edward burst out laughing, pointing at Anthony’s exposed hairless testicle. Sean couldn’t contain himself and rushed to tell everyone what a silly boy Anthony was to let his ball-bag hang out of his swim-trunks. Anthony begged the boys not to shame him by telling everyone about it, but they were beside themselves with glee. Edward took Anthony’s arm and pulled him, very much against Anthony’s will, into the middle of the grown-ups where Sean pointed to the offending testicle. Anthony just wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole. He had never in his life felt himself blush a deeper red than he was now. 

“Anthony just what is the meaning of this? Have you been playing with yourself and showing off in front of Edward and Sean?” his mum asked, as she rushed to the wrong conclusion. 

Anthony was beside himself. How could his mum think that? The very idea that his mum even thought he was capable of doing such a thing was dreadful! “No mum, I wasn’t…! Please… let me go Edward! Please mum, make Edward let me go…” 

“If you weren’t playing with yourself, what were you doing with your…” 

Anthony thought he would explode with embarrassment and indignation! Without thinking what he was saying, he blurted out: “It was the vicar. He pulled.... I mean… he… it was his fault… the knot… the knot on my trunks… it's too tight…” 

“How dare you blame the vicar Anthony!  Of all the…! You should be thoroughly ashamed of yourself for showing off like this.  I suppose you thought it would be clever to expose yourself in front of your cousins..... Don’t say a word Anthony.  I’ve heard quite enough of your excuses in the past to believe anything you say.  I’m quite sure the vicar had nothing whatever to do with this disgraceful behaviour.  It’s high time you were taught a lesson young man!” 

With a pleading look in his eyes, Anthony looked across to where the vicar was standing. He hoped that something would be said in his defence, but the vicar remained silent and merely pursed his lips. It was clear he was affronted by the suggestion that he had behaved in anyway improperly towards the fourteen year old boy. Anthony made as if to speak, but realised it would be hopeless. With the vicar silent nobody would believe a word of what he said. 

Anthony felt utterly helpless. Humiliated by the little swim-trunks, he rubbed his bare legs together again. He felt so exposed standing in front of everyone. Everyone else in the room was fully clothed and even his younger cousins were smugly wearing long trousers.  Anthony was supremely aware he was wearing so little compared to everyone else. 

“… but mum, I didn’t mean to… I’m sorry…” 

“That’s quite enough Anthony… I don’t want to hear another word from you…” 

Anthony’s mother cut him short and as she did so the fourteen year old felt distinctly uneasy about the way the afternoon’s events were unfolding. He wanted to run; to escape; to turn back the clock; to do anything rather than have to stand there and face his mum’s wrath. He glanced nervously about him. Sean and Edward were watching him, so to was his aunt. One look at the vicar told Anthony that he could expect little sympathy from that quarter.  

“… not another word…” Anthony’s mum continued, “… and put your hands on your head… at once!” 

Anthony immediately did as he was told even though it made him feel even more exposed and even more humiliated. Everyone was looking at Anthony as he stood in disgrace. In whatever direction he looked Anthony was met by watching eyes; the eyes of grown-ups and the eager mocking eyes of his cousins, all of them waiting to see what would happen next. He hung his head in shame. 

Anthony stood and listened as the grown-ups discussed his appalling behaviour. His ears burnt as he was talked about as if he wasn’t present. Anthony wanted to tell his side of the story; tell them what happened and that it was all an accident. It was so unfair… even Edward and Sean were allowed to join in the condemnation of Anthony’s behaviour! If only he hadn’t made such a fuss about wearing his Sunday play-shorts none of this would’ve have happened. 

The more the grown-ups talked the worse Anthony felt. One minute it seemed that he, Anthony, had accused the vicar of behaving inappropriately towards him. Next minute Anthony was being accused of deliberately exposing himself to his younger cousins. Anthony’s ears almost burst into flames when he was accused of trying to corrupt them. He couldn’t believe the injustice of it all! 

Finally his mum turned to face him and spoke: “Anthony, I simply cannot let your conduct go unnoticed. I must say that I am surprised at you for trying to blame the vicar for your gross behaviour. I don’t know what you hoped to achieve…  Now go and fetch a stool from the kitchen and bring it here.” 

The relief Anthony felt at being able to escape from everyone’s eyes for a few minutes was soured by his knowledge that the stool could mean only more humiliation. So it was a very abject boy who fetched a wooden stool from the kitchen. When he returned he was told to place it in the middle of the room where everyone could see. Anthony put his hands back on his head without being told and stood by the stool and waited. 

“Up onto the stool Anthony, where everyone can see you, and put your hands back on your head.” Anthony’s mum paused as he did as he was told, then she continued, “It seems to me that as you were so eager to expose yourself to everyone…” 

Anthony very nearly burst into tears at that very moment. He knew what was coming and he felt sick at the thought. His legs were like jelly and he very nearly fell from the stool as he pleaded desperately: 

“Oh no, mum! Please… no!” 

But his outburst was ignored. 

“… Don’t interrupt Anthony… Why you thought it was clever to display yourself to your cousins and embarrass the vicar, I’ve no idea. I can’t think what goes through your mind to make you think anybody is going to be impressed by you showing them your penis… or perhaps you thought you would shock them…” 

And so it went on… The ‘lecture’ was considered to be essential to Anthony’s punishment and it certainly worked. Having to stand on the stool in the middle of the garden-room, hands on head, in front of everyone was torture. Anthony thought he would pass out with shame and humiliation. He knew that everyone could see quite plainly his testicle trapped outside the tiny swim-trunks. The same uncomfortable swim-trunks that were so small that most of his bottom was bare for all to see… and if that wasn’t bad enough, the trunks were so ill-fitting that it was clear to everyone that he had yet to grow any pubic hair, since the front of the trunks didn’t quite cover the smooth base of his penis. 

On full display and dreading further disgrace, Anthony could barely disguise how mortified he felt as the lecture continued: 

“Did you think you were being clever? Did you want us all to see your penis? Was that what happened last week when you made an exhibition of yourself in front of the vicar?” 

Anthony was indignant and tried to explain that it was an accident; that he slipped and fell over; that he couldn’t help it; he didn’t mean the vicar to see… Anthony suddenly stopped as he realised what he was about to say. 

“… to see what, Anthony? What didn’t you mean the vicar to see?” his mother insisted. 

Oh, the injustice of it all! Anthony hung his head, looked at his feet and whispered… 

“My… my penis…” 

Out of the corner of his eye, Anthony could see that Edward and Sean were relishing every second of his humiliation. No attempt was made to diminish Anthony’s evident distress at their presence by sending his smirking cousins into the next room while he was being dealt with. 

It was the turn of the vicar to add to Anthony’s misery: 

“I’m sorry to say that Anthony did expose himself to me,” he said, with an air of injured innocence, “He displayed both his penis and his testicles in front of me last week… I can’t be absolutely certain, but it looked very much to me as if meant to trip himself up so that he could fall over right at my feet and lift up his play-shorts to expose…” 

“… but it was an accident,” Anthony interrupted desperately, “… it was an accident… I didn’t mean to… please… I didn’t…” 

“Are you calling the vicar a liar, Anthony?” 

“No… no… please… I… I…” 

It was no use, as much as he felt wronged, Anthony, in his heart knew that he didn’t stand a chance of getting the grown-ups to listen. 

“Yes, after today’s little episode,” the vicar continued, “the more I’m sure that Anthony must have tripped himself up on purpose last week…” 

Anthony’s mum turned to the vicar and asked: “But why would he want to do such a thing?” 

“I’m afraid that it’s not unknown for boys to want to draw attention to themselves,” the vicar explained, “It’s a phase that boys of Anthony’s age sometimes go through… attempting to show off how ‘grown up’ they are. I assume it also fulfils some sort of latent desire for excitement… though quite why a young boy like Anthony should choose to draw attention to himself by exposing his penis is a mystery… Quite why he thinks anyone is at all interested in seeing his immature penis…” 

The vicar left his sentence unfinished as if he knew that everyone else would agree with his comments. Then he turned and smiled at Anthony’s cousins: “I don’t think Edward or Sean have ever tried to expose themselves. I’ve certainly never seen them pulling up their play-shorts or fiddling with their swim-trunks…” 

Anthony couldn’t believe his ears. It was as if the vicar was deliberately trying to make matters worse. For heaven’s sake, Edward and Sean didn’t even possess play-shorts! So how could they ‘expose themselves’? 

Anthony’s aunt was outraged at the suggestion her boys would do such a thing: “Certainly not! They would never dream of doing anything of the sort!” she said and added, “Frankly I think Anthony needs to be taught a lesson… trying to waggle his little penis in front of my boys…” 

“…why, I wonder what it would have led to if Edward hadn’t told us what Anthony was up to? I wouldn’t be at all surprised if he didn’t intend to masturbate in front of them… I’ve heard about boys who like to pleasure themselves in front of younger boys… attempting to corrupt them. Thankfully Edward and Sean aren’t like that; they wouldn’t do anything so depraved… they wouldn’t masturbate.” 

Anthony was stunned. How could this be happening to him? It wasn’t his fault he had to dress in play-clothes. It wasn’t his fault he’d had to wear tiny, ill-fitting swim-trunks. It wasn’t his fault that the vicar had seen his penis. He didn’t want anyone to see his penis. He wasn’t doing anything on purpose. He wasn’t trying to draw attention to himself… god forbid! It was bad enough having to have school showers in front of the P.E. teacher. As for masturbation… Anthony was horrified! The idea that grown-ups could even think he masturbated was terrifying. But what was even worse… what was even more galling, was that his aunt said that his cousins, Edward and Sean wouldn’t do it! Anthony knew for a fact that both boys masturbated more than he did! And they did it to each other! 

Anthony looked at his two cousins. It was useless to think they would do anything to help him in his present predicament. Unseen by any of the grown-ups, Sean poked his tongue out at him. Edward just looked smug. Anthony couldn’t remember ever feeling more miserable. 

“He ought to be made an example of…” Anthony’s aunt concluded. 

“I couldn’t agree more,” Anthony’s mother concurred, “I can see that I’ve been far too lenient with him. It’s about time he was taught a lesson…” 

Anthony stood on his stool, hands on head, dressed in nothing more than an ill-fitting pair of his old swim-trunks (a single testicle still on show outside the trunks), a Mr Happy singlet, which had rucked up to expose even more bare flesh, and a pair of ludicrously childish plastic sandals. As he looked at his mum, his mouth fell open. Just what had she in mind? Anthony knew that her ‘lessons’ were, without exception, unbearably embarrassing. Now with his aunt, his cousins and the vicar present, Anthony just knew things were about to get a whole lot worse… 

Then the unthinkable happened… Anthony was horrified when he suddenly felt his penis begin to stiffen and press against the flimsy swim-trunks! It’s a nightmare for a boy of Anthony’s age to be caught with an erection… but to be standing, hands on head, dressed in a pair of skimpy little-boy swim-trunks, feeling an erection growing and quite unable to cover-up… that was unthinkable! Everyone in the room would be able to see what was happening and Anthony just wanted to die he was so ashamed. 

He was beside himself and rubbed his bare legs together. Although Anthony kept his hands obediently on his head, he couldn’t stop from twisting and squeezing his bare thighs together in a desperate, but futile, attempt to hide the fact that his erection was developing remorselessly between his legs. Edward nudged his brother and pointed at the obvious growing bulge in Anthony’s little swim-trunks. Together the boys giggled, enjoying every second of Anthony’s plight. 

Thus far none of the grown-ups had appeared to notice the increasingly obvious swelling in the front of Anthony’s little-boy trunks and his mum had merely told him not to fidget. 

Then all of a sudden Sean piped up: “Mum! What’s that?” he said and pointed an accusing finger at the now unmistakable boy-bulge pushing out the front of Anthony’s swim-trunks. 

Anthony stared open-mouthed at his cousin and so did not see his mother as she moved towards him… the surprise smack of her hand on his bare thigh nearly unbalanced him. 

“You vile… disgusting… boy…! I should have known not to listen to you… I might have known you’d show me up… I should never have allowed you to wear your swim-trunks! But you insisted… and now look at you!” 

Each exclamation brought another sharp smack of mum’s hand on Anthony’s increasingly red bare thigh. Six smacks of mum’s open hand brought Anthony to the verge of tears. He was beside himself with shame and pleaded with his mother to stop. 

His mother did stop, but to Anthony’s horror, it was only for her hands to come up to his little swim-trunks… 

“No! Mum, please… No!” he cried, but it was no use… his mother had made up her mind that Anthony was in need of a lesson and he was going to get one… a very embarrassing lesson… in front of everyone. 

“I was a fool to myself… I shouldn’t have allowed you to wear your swim-trunks… I should have made you wear your play-shorts… but you wanted to show off in your swim-trunks… and now we know why!” 

“Mum!! Pleeease!! I didn’t mean… I didn’t want to wear…” Anthony tried to explain that because he didn’t want to wear his Sunday play-shorts didn’t mean he wanted to wear his swim-trunks. But mum didn’t understand… 

“… If you can’t be trusted to behave yourself and wear your swim-trunks properly…” Mum’s fingers were at the waistband of the trunks and she began to untie the knot, “… then it’s time we did something about it!” 

“No!! Pleeease, mum… no!!” Anthony, his eyes wet with tears, was beside himself and pleaded shamelessly with his mum to stop.  

“That’s enough, Anthony!” his mum snapped, “I don’t want any more nonsense from you… everyone saw you misbehave… now everyone can see what happens to silly little boys when they try to show off…!” And with those words his mum tugged hard on the little trunks. In an instant they were halfway down the fourteen year old’s thighs. 

Freed from the tight, constricting trunks Anthony’s semi-erect penis bobbed up and down before it came to rest pointing straight at his mum. Anthony’s smooth and embarrassingly hairless penis, was nearly five inches in length, but still quite slim. All eyes in the room were focussed on it. 

As he again pleaded with his mother, Anthony’s long penis wobbled in front of him. This seemed to anger his mother even further. She snapped at Anthony, telling her son to control himself and to stop showing off in front of everyone. But this did nothing to prevent the penis from continuing to erect! Whether through fear or some other reason, Anthony couldn’t stop himself and his penis rose further until it was pointing upwards, about three-quarters erect. Anthony was mortified, but had to stand on the stool in front of everyone and keep his hands on top of his head. 

In desperation Anthony’s mum turned to one of his cousins: “Edward,” she said sharply, “… Edward, would you please look in the middle drawer of the desk in the study… you’ll find a wooden school ruler… bring it to me…” 

Thirteen year old Edward rushed into the next room. Within seconds he was back gripping the wooden twelve inch school ruler, eager to see what his aunt was going to do with it. 

Anthony screamed at his mother: “Please, mum… no!!” Bravely he kept his hands on top of his head but his whole body shook with horror at the sight of the wooden ruler. Even as his mother pulled up the little Mr Man singlet until it was pushed right up to the top of his chest; even as he felt the tiny swim-trunks being yanked all the way down to his ankles; even as he stood bare from top to toe on the stool; even as his tumescent penis wobbled between his legs, Anthony couldn’t take his eyes from the sight of the school ruler that Edward was holding in his hand. 

Anthony was mesmerised. He watched his mother take the wooden ruler from his cousin. He watched as she pointed it at his penis: 

“Anthony you are being a very naughty boy… a very wilful boy. It’s about time you learnt to control yourself…” 

Anthony’s mother tapped the wooden ruler against the shaft of his penis which had continued to stiffen and was now very nearly fully erect. Anthony was mortified and bit his lower lip as he felt his heart pounding in anticipation. His penis wobbled back and forth as it was tapped with the school ruler… 

“Please, mum… I’m sorry mum… I can’t help it… please mum…” 

Then there was the sound of a sharp smack as the flat side of the school ruler struck the engorged shaft of Anthony’s penis just below the head. Anthony winced and gasped as his penis bounced from left to right and back again. 

“The vicar is quite right… no one is interested in looking at your penis, Anthony… you are being very, very silly… Why you think anyone would be interested in seeing your penis…” 

With that, mum again smacked the side of Anthony’s penis sharply with the wooden ruler. 

Anthony was hardly even aware anymore of the grown-ups and his two cousins in the room. All he was fully conscious of was the maddening sting of his penis as it wobbled and bounced from side to side. 

Four more times he felt the sharp smack of the ruler and after each stroke his penis waggled about before coming to rest just as stiff as ever. Anthony’s mum was determined to each her son a lesson and waited patiently for the penis to stop moving between each slap of her ruler. 

Anthony couldn’t help himself and tears started to run freely down his face. Tears dripped from his chin and splashed onto his chest. Anthony knew it was pointless to plead, but he couldn’t stop himself and between his sobbing he begged his mum to stop. 

When finally mum gave the ruler back to Edward the room fell silent… apart from the sounds of Anthony’s sobbing, that is. 

Then a single word was heard as it escaped Sean’s lips: 



  1. Hello

    Just to say that I love your stories, I think the situations are great. Please write more if you can. Thank you.

    Best wishes

    1. Thank you for your kind words, David. It's so nice to hear that you enjoy my stories. As you can see I’m rather erratic when it comes to posting stories, so it’s good to have your encouragement to keep me at it! All the best, mogg

  2. Please post Part 2 Mogg!

  3. love your stories, please write loads more, Anthony is hot, thanks,