181 Dear Sweet Robbie

Dear Sweet Robbie
Part 1 of 5

Robbie’s main Saturday chore was to clean out a hall closets and sort out a lot of items the family was just no longer using, and store them in the garage. In the process of his going through the shelves jammed with all sorts of stuff, he found one sealed, unmarked box. He opened it and, to his surprise, he found it filled with a small stack of S and M magazines. He surmised that this must be stuff from his dad, Matt’s, past. He felt sure it had nothing to do with his mom, Rachel; that just seemed too weird. S and M is more of a guy’s thing, he thought, as he thumbed through the photos in the magazines, finding them very intriguing.

To back up one step, Rachel and Matt were his adoptive parents. They were middle-class white people. Robbie was only an infant when they adopted him. Eight years later, they adopted another son, Jimar. He was eight. So now Robbie had a brother the same age as him. One big difference was Jimar was black. Jimar’s parents had died in a car accident and Rachel had known them well, so she’d wanted to adopt their only child. So blond, cute Robbie then had a brother who entered “his” family when he was just a kid. Robbie was not a racist; he did not dislike anyone, regardless of color or anything else. But, after being the sole child and the center of attention for the first eight years of his life, he now had to share many things, including his parents’ attention. And, as kids can do, especially boys, he would tease Jimar, and embarrass him as he played harsh jokes on his new brother. He even went so far as to introduce him (to his peers) as his slave brother. That hurt Jimar the most with him as this went on for years until it wore off with Robbie when he entered his middle teen years.

This photo shows Robbie and Jimar about the time they graduated high school. It was a time when Robbie thought all the childhood and childish issues were behind them both. At 18-years-old, he was far beyond all that harassing sibling rivalry. He had pretty much forgotten all about doing that mean stuff to Jimar. However, Jimar was not past it at all. Being a sensitive black child and feeling insecure in this white family, made him feel like he came second (which was not true), he suppressed his feelings of resentment toward his brother. So here they were, both eighteen; they did refer to each other as brothers, but they were never close, they just acted cordial, with Jimar doing most of the “acting.”

Getting back to Robbie’s kinky find, the box also contained some leather cuffs, a leather dog collar, a chain collar, wooden clothespins, and a few other items. He looked more carefully at more of the magazine articles, especially the photos. There were images of men and women tied up in restraints and he became engrossed in those. More than that, he was getting a hard-on from all he was seeing, reading and thinking. He picked up the chain collar and, as he saw in some of the photos, he fastened the dog collar around his own neck. He closed his eyes and was fantasizing about what this all meant. He yanked on his crotch material of his pants again, seeming to make room for his dick to expand. It was all so new, and very interesting to him, not to mention erotic. He was more than a little light headed.

There were few items for which he did not know their use. He tried to match stuff up to the photos in the magazine, but some of the items were not shown. One of the photos he saw showed a young man on this hands and knees wearing clothespins on his nipples. Robbie could not resist trying those out too, so he placed them on his nipples and at first they hurt a lot.

Not wanting to be caught by his folks or his brother looking at the erotic magazines and the other And stuff, he packed them back in the same box and pushed them all the way back on the shelf; putting some other stuff in front of that box. He quickly returned to his room. His mind was a jumble of thoughts and emotions, but he tried to put them out of his consciousness and get on with his college homework. But he also sneaked back into that closet box many times over the next couple of weeks to check out more items in the privacy of nighttime. He drooled over these treasures, trying everything on, at least those things he could figure out what they might be used for.

Robbie did not realize that his dad had seen him from around the corner of the hallway, looking at the kinky magazines. It was about two weeks after Robbie first found the kinky “treasure chest.” Matt was both surprised and curious about his son. It was not that Matt wanted to intrude on his son’s privacy, but he very much wanted to know of any reactions Robbie had, positive or negative. He saw his son flipping through the pages, fingering the dog collar he was wearing, and even noticed him pulling on the groin of his underwear once in a while. Matt quietly left Robbie there to enjoy himself in secret and went to talk to his wife to discuss with her what he had just seen. Obviously, they needed to explain to Robbie one thing or another, and to determine what to do about it. Those And magazines were not Matt’s alone. They belonged to Matt AND Rachel. They were both into kink and were even members of an extreme And club that met once a month, but they had kept this a secret from their two kids. Actually, they had ended up telling Jimar a year ago, simply because he was a lot more street smart than his brother, and they thought he could handle it just fine. He had been okay with it. Even though Robbie was the same age, they had always thought of him as being a little more needy and sensitive. So they had not told him. It was just the way they had read the situation.

That night, 18-year-old Robbie thought he was dreaming as he lay in his bed, under a single sheet. He thought he felt something pulling at his arm. As he rolled onto his back his eyes were met by the brightness of the table lamp bursting into life. He blinked his sleepiness away and pushed himself up the bed to rest his upper back against the cast iron scrolled bedhead. Focused now, he saw and felt Matt, his dad, sit down on edge of his bed. “What's the matter, dad?” he asked.

“I think we need to talk about something, Robbie,” Matt said with concern in his voice. “I had wondered when, or even if, the time would come for us to have this conversation. You are a smart kid, good at many things - sport, making friends, and you’re good looking to top it all. We, Rachel and I, trust you and would hope you trust us. That’s why I have decided to tell you something you might find, well … weird. Ever since I became your father, your mother and I have kept some secrets from you. As adults, we are entitled to them and now that you are 18, so you are entitled to know the truth. You know Rachel and I love you and Jimar like any mom and dad loves their kids, but recent events have been brought to my attention that required mom and me to let you in on our big secret.” Matt spoke in a low, curious tone.

Robbie was taken aback when he felt his dad’s hand move to rest on the thin sheet covering his thigh and gently squeeze it. Matt went on. “Your mom and I have noticed something that causes us to know more about you.” He picked up a small black leather bag and unzipped it. To Robbie’s surprise, Matt removed a chain dog collar and placed it directly on the bed in the sheet-formed valley between Robbie’s wide outstretched legs. Matt leaned forward to start at the opened collar of the boy’s pajama jacket and slowly unbuttoned it all the way down.

“Robbie, what are these strange marks on the front of your neck?” He asked as if he had no idea. “They look familiar to me.” He laid open the pajama top, baring Robbie’s well-toned upper body. As he picked up the chain links, Robbie’s abdomen twitched as he watched Matt place the cold steel over the marks on his neck, matching the pattern. They slid down and rested on his navel when Matt released them. Again Matt reached into the bag. Robbie’s pulse raced when he saw the leather dog collar emerge. It looked like the one he had seen in the box. Matt told him to sit up as he now pulled Robbie’s top completely off and discarded it on the bedroom floor. The boy’s upper body was now naked and he was face-to-face with his dad. Raising the collar to Robbie’s neck he matched the marks on his neck exactly the width of the leather collar and matched the point where the buckle had left its indentation. He placed a hand on Robbie’s chest and pushed him back onto the pillows. Again Matt’s hand dipped into the leather bag. Robbie was aghast now seeing his dad now holding up two clothespins in his hand. The red marks around Robbie’s nipples matched the wood peg clothespins exactly. He did not need to place them on his son to tell.

“Dad? … I ... I …” Robbie was stopped in mid-sentence.

“Mom brought this to my attention this morning, Robbie.” Matt held up a pair of Robbie’s white underwear. “She said that she had always noticed small dry stains on your underwear, she felt it was just piss dribbles. But yesterday when she was doing laundry, she felt the sticky wet cum-soaked crotch of your underwear. She was more than curious and showed me.” At this point Robbie wanted a large hole to appear and swallow him up. Robbie recalled that he had not wiped his cock clean in his frenzy to get back to his room. Matt carefully placed them on the boy’s shoulder, so Robbie could smell them as Matt continued to discuss what he needed to. “Tell me, son, did you take one of my magazines out of the box in the hall closet, to keep it? You don't need to lie. Since your mom and I bought new kink toys a few years ago, we forgot all about that box of sex play stuff. Did you use some of that kink stuff to beat off, boy? I saw the splashes on the mirror yesterday.” Robbie felt humiliated and wriggled further up the bed until the white cord around the waist of his pajama bottoms became visible. His movement also pushed the pillows up further. That exposed the corner of the magazine Matt was asking about. Matt grabbed the corner and pulled it out from behind the pillow.

Robbie's eyes welled up with tears of embarrassment as he began blurting out his innermost thoughts to Matt. How he knew he had feelings about things and how unsure he was about them. How he was confused. That he was sorry for taking the magazine and touching all his parents’ stuff. How he knew what he wanted but had nowhere to turn for advice. He sobbed as Matt placed a hand on his chest and rubbed it in an effort to console him. Matt was, of course, not at all upset. Then he brushed away the tears from Robbie’s eyes with windshield wiper motions of his thumb. He knew the agonies that Robbie was going through.

Matt now produced a magazine. One he knew Robbie had never seen. Placing it across the boy’s lap he began to turn the pages. The shots in this magazine were of young men in extreme bondage, humiliation, and torture. As Matt turned the pages slowly he sincerely asked Robbie, “Is this what you want?” Robbie was sobbing.

Without further thought, he said, “Yes. I don't know why ... I just feel it calls to me. It stirs up emotions deep inside me. I don’t understand it, dad.” Robbie spoke between sobs. For another fifteen minutes, Matt threw all kinds of questions at Robbie. It may have seemed harsh and insensitive, but Matted needed to know, there and then, what his boy wanted, at least as far as he could understand.

Robbie soon stopped sobbing. He had opened up to Matt and had told him in detail how he had found the And stuff and the magazines and how he had borrowed one of the magazines to copy some of the photos. He had explained that he beat off on them but intended to clean them up, so no one would know what he had done. But he had forgotten.

“If you want what you think you want, and can prove it to us by next Tuesday, we will do everything we can to help you.” Robbie returned a half crying smile to his dad. “The fact that we are not your natural parents makes it okay and easier for us. We have friends who will also be helping you, and us. Think now, before you answer. If you are certain that this is the road you want to take, just say, ‘I submit to you.’ Because, from that point on, there will be no turning back - unless you want to give up – and, at which point, should it occur, you will have to leave here. You will have to leave your home. This is all or nothing.” Matt was very clear.

After considerable thought Robbie responded. He raised his knees up to his chest. Then he straightened them back down the bed pushing the sheet off of himself with his bare feet. He closed his eyes tight, then spoke solemnly. “I submit to you.” And again, this time with more conviction and determination as he looked his dad in the eyes. “I submit to you, Matt.” Matt’s smile back was reassuring. Somehow it seemed more appropriate to Robbie to call him only Matt now, instead of sometimes calling him dad.

Robbie was made to stand up while Matt stripped away the sheet. Matt turned his attention to Robbie, “Give me your pajamas,” Matt commanded. Robbie picked up the top from the floor and handed it to him, and then pulled at the drawcord on his pajama bottoms, which caused them to fall and puddle around his ankles. Robbie stood there in only his white boxer underwear. Since Robbie had become aware of his developing body, and as he was also a naturally shy boy, he never let anyone at home see him undressed, or even in just his underwear. He had wandered from the bathroom to his room and sometimes downstairs with a towel wrapped around him but that was as far as he had dared to reveal his well-toned body to Matt, his mom, or even to his brother, Jimar. Matt put out his hand, and Robbie knew to pick up his bottoms and hand them to him, which Matt also tossed out the door, into the hallway.

He now firmly guided Robbie onto the mattress and reached into the leather bag and pulled out four pieces of white cotton rope. Robbie's ankles and wrists were secured to each corner of the bed frame; he was bound spread-eagle. Matt took the several copies of magazine photos that Robbie had made for himself and scotch-taped them to the wall near his head so he could see them. After all, Matt assumed, since Robbie had chosen them to copy and beat off to, they must be his favorites. Now Robbie could enjoy them all he wanted – except, beating off to them was now impossible. The warm summer night air invaded the room as Matt flung the windows wide open. Next Matt strapped a black leather gage around the boy’s head, with a dick-shaped bulb that was forced into his mouth. The gag was secured in the back. He gave the tied-down boy one final glance as he pulled the door shut behind him. Robbie felt the caress of the night air on his body as he drifted into sleep staring at the pictures on the wall and contemplated his destiny.

When he woke, he could just make out the time as he twisted his head around to focus on the clock on the bedside table. 5:10 AM. The sun was up and the cold early morning air filled the bedroom. All became apparent to Robbie as he saw the pictures again in front of him. Lifting his head, he looked down his body and his eyes fell upon the usual early morning erection pressed against the inside of the scant white boxers that was his only covering – but, on this occasion, there was going to be no free hand to relieve the pressure that had built up in his rigid cock and swollen balls. He hoped it would just go down before his dad came into his room. His mind raced as he recalled the statement he had made to Matt about submitting to him. Since he could not touch his own dick, and was now desperate to climax, he wondered if he had made the correct decision.

Matt and Rachel had had a restless night, falling asleep in mid-discussion. It was 5:30 AM when Robbie's bedroom door opened. Matt entered, wearing only his blue pajama bottoms. He was quite youthful and moderately toned. His thick jet black hair and dark eyes complimented the mustache he had grown recently. Robbie was about to speak when Matt held a finger up to stop him.

“When I remove this gag, you will speak only when asked a question or when you wish to indicate that you cannot comply with an instruction. You have a lot to learn so you had better concentrate on listening. When you do say “yes” or “no” you will look the person directly in the eyes and always end with a firm ”Sir” or “Miss,” irrespective of age or relationship. Do you understand?” Robbie shook his head, and then Matt removed the gag. The boy wiggled his jaw a bit to relax it, and then said, “Yes sir,” Robbie replied, trying to get his tongue around the words that were new to his way of thinking. “When you are untied, come down to the kitchen.” Then Matt replaced the gag, as tightly as it was before.

Matt turned and left the room, leaving the door open and Robbie gaged and tied up. That was strange, he thought. Robbie wondered what he was supposed to do. How was he supposed to go downstairs for breakfast?

Robbie soon stopped sobbing. He began to open up to Matt and had told him in detail how he had found the And magazines and beat off to them, how he even wore the leather cuff and dog collar as he did it.

“If you want to enter the sub lifestyle, that is possible,” Matt said soberly. “The fact that we are not your natural parents makes it okay and easier for us to train you. We have friends who will also be helping you, and us. Think now, before you answer. If you are certain that this is the road you want to take, just say, ‘I submit to you.’ Because, from that point on, there will be no turning back. This is all or nothing.” Matt told his wide-eyed son who was devouring every shocking word .

It took a long time before Robbie responded. He raised his knees up to his chest. Then he straightened them back down the bed pushing the sheet off of himself with his bare feet. He closed his eyes tight, then spoke solemnly. “I submit to you.” And again, this time with more conviction and determination as he looked his dad in the eyes. “I submit to you, Matt.” Matt’s smile back was reassuring. Somehow it seemed more appropriate to Robbie to call him only Matt now, instead of sometimes calling him dad.

In the morning Robbie woke to a sound at the door. Jimar, his Black adopted brother the same age as he came into the room dressed in his jeans and tee-shirt and tennis shoes. He went over to his brother who was tied up spread-eagle and sat on the side of his bed.

“Dad wants me to untie you so you can go down for breakfast. Is that okay with you, Robbie?” He spoke in a kindly matter, but with a hint of an evil grin. He was stunned at the way Jimar was looking at his thin, white boxes, and thankful that his erection had mostly subsided. Robbie had always been too shy to willingly let his brother see him in underwear, and especially naked. Jimar pretended not to notice his white brother’s nervousness and discomfort. He knew Robbie was totally embarrassed and humiliated lying, tied, hands and ankles to the frame of his bed.

Jimar unstrapped the gag, removed it, and tossed it on the floor. Feeling a new sense of superiority over his “bro,” he asked again, “You ready to be untied?” Too embarrassed to speak, Robbie could only nod. Jimar did not move. He was waiting to be properly addressed. But Robbie said nothing. “Okay, then. I’ll see you later.” And he got up and started to walk to the door to leave him there.

“No, wait. Please Jimar, please untie me. I’m your brother.” Jimar looked back, stared at his very “white” brother, and, not hearing what he wanted, proceeded to leave again. Robbie blurted out in a manor Matt had told him would be required, “Sir, please sir. Please untie me Mr. Jimar.” Robbie was in tears as Jimar returned to him and sat on the edge of his bed again.

“That was not too difficult, Robbie, was it; to show your superior brother the necessary respect?” Robbie was just quietly sobbing. “You have to stop calling me Jimar. To you, I'm Mr. Jimar or sir. You got that straight?” Jimar spoke calmly; he had no need to yell. He had the power, he knew it and so did Robbie. But Robbie did not realize until now, that Jimar was part of his group of controllers. Just as soon as he realized it, he knew he did not like it.

“Yes, Mr. Jimar. I will always show you respect, sir.” He said as he sobbed a bit more. Hearing that submissive tone, it was like a switch was flipped in Jimar’s brain. He flashed a big smile. “Won’t we have fun from now on?” Robbie was going to give an answer but then Jimar rested his hand on Robbie's chest. Both he and Jimar were straight, so he worried that he might be starting to get sexual with him.

“My, your heart is beating fast! You must be so excited to see me. You love your wonderful black brother, don’t you?” Robbie nodded in a daze. “You just found out the secret that mom and dad had been keeping from you. They told me about their S and M group two years ago. But they thought their little white, innocent shy son could not handle knowing that secret. So here you are in your little white undies. You are so white. Everything is white about you, your skin, your underwear, the way you behave. No wonder you need a strong black brother to take care of you. Teach you stuff, train you.” Robbie stopped crying. He wanted to hear every word Jimar was saying. He wanted to know everything that was in store for him.

Jimar pinched his left nipple and Robbie moaned. “Yes, all of a sudden, things are so right.” Jimar smiled broadly. I will untie you soon; then we can both go downstairs to see mom and dad while you are still in your little white undies.” Robbie slowly shook his head no, but knew it meant nothing, and Jimar was not even paying attention to his tacit communication. “Mom and I have never seen you in your undies. Maybe she’ll like you this way.” He slowly teased his hand down Robbie's tummy and tickled his belly button, doing it nonchalantly as he spoke. “I mean, it will be so nice having a hunky white stud around to do chores for me, and serve me, and even entertain my friends. Don’t you think?” Robbie was not listening. He released a moan as he took in the erotic touches Jimar was giving his belly, ever so lightly. There he was, stripped to his white flimsy boxers, still tied to his bed frame and being fondled by his black brother.

Jimar thought that the best power he could exert now was for their mom to see Robbie in his underwear, and with a huge boner inside it. So he moved his hand gently to his underwear and rested it lightly on him so his fingers were touching his hip bone. He took his time, talking hum-drum stuff that Robbie could not concentrate upon with all the erotic teasing he was receiving, as he “unconsciously” wiggled his fingers, and tickled his hip bone. Robbie’s dick was almost fully firm, stretching the material of his underwear once again. Since his dick was positioned in his underwear pointing up his belly, the tip of it was trying to poke out from under the elastic waistband. So far, the band was succeeding in holding it in, but barely. As Jimar continued his “nothing” words and absentmindedly fondled his brother's underwear, his dick became fully erect. Not only that, but it lifted off his belly about an inch, raising his underwear waistband in the process. In an effort to further embarrass Robbie, he overtly stared into his brother's now open-tent, held open by his tent-pole-like throbbing dick.

Dear Sweet Robbie
Part 2 of 5 or ... [full_story_link]http://www.gayties.com/page/kinksville/robbie_4/[/full_story_link]

“That was not too difficult, Robbie, was it; to show your superior brother the necessary respect?” Robbie was just quietly sobbing. “You have to stop calling me Jimar. To you, I'm Mr. Jimar or sir. You got that straight?” Jimar spoke calmly; he had no need to yell. He had the power, he knew it and so did Robbie. But Robbie did not realize until now, that Jimar was part of his group of controllers. Just as soon as he realized it, he knew he did not like it.

“Oh, Robbie. I may be your superior, but I am still your brother. So … I don't understand why you are obscenely pushing your briefs wide open. Is it because you want me to see your big dick?” Robbie was just starting to answer him that he wanted nothing of the kind, but before he could say so, Jimar continued. “Well, obviously. I mean it would be rude of you, and totally unacceptable that you would refuse me permission to see your dick. That is laughable. So … you want me to see your dick because it is mine to see?” Robbie was floored. He nodded his head, yes, thinking that that fitted with his brother's desires. Jimar never touched his bobbing dick; he only stared at it as it seemed to be begging for a touch.

“You probably want me to fondle it for you too. I mean, you’re still all tied up and your dick is so hard. Why, it's making a tent of your boxers, it’s gonna tear them apart!” Robbie's face was red with humiliation. “Oh, silly! You are such a dumb-ass doofus! It's nice that you are presenting your man-pole to me for my inspection and approval, but don't you think mom and dad should see it first?” Robbie just shuddered in fear and looked at him with bulging eyes

“I wonder if you need to pee first.” Robbie nodded his head excitedly to indicate yes, but Jimar was not looking at his head - just his stretched-out underwear. Of course, he knew his brother needed to have his morning pee, but why be so generous and comforting? It was Jimar’s time to bask in the glow of his new power and superiority, and he was enjoying it now. This was his revenge for all Robbie's slave jokes of so many years ago. Jokes that Robbie forgot and was part of his past, but hurtful jokes Jimar NEVER forgot. So, without looking at Robbie’s face, he started lightly touching his brother's twitching dick. It was not enough to make it shoot, just enough to make sure it was at full attention under the thin cotton fabric before they went downstairs for Robbie's … “show and tell.”

“I know you are not allowed to ask a question. That’s dad’s rule, so I could just ask you and let you answer, or … I can make the decision for you so you are not burdened with the need to think for yourself. So … I think you are fine not peeing, and we can just go down to breakfast. First, though, I need to pee.” Jimar left his tied-up, all boned up, brother and went into his adjoining bathroom. Robbie could hear a long piss and a flush, then Jimar came back, carrying Robbie’s bathroom glass half full of warm, yellow liquid.

“Here you go, Robbie, I saved a bit of my own precious fluid, just for you. Your underwear is way too white.” Then Jimar dribbled the small amount of pee over his brother’s underwear, making a pee stain that spread to cover the full front panel of his boxers. How clearly his hardened dick could be seen right through the growing yellow wet fabric.

“If you tell anyone I did this to you, I will have your ass and you will strongly regret challenging me. Instead, be the good little stud bro and fess up to wetting your pants. OK, bro?” Robbie knew how this was going to go. He just nodded yes. Jimar smiled broadly. He finally untied Robbie and he started to get up off his bed. Jimar, for the first time, actually yelled at him, “Who the fuck said you can get up?! You fucking idiot! Who do you think you are to move at all without my permission?!” Robbie, although he had been untied, immediately replaced his hands and feet at the four corners of the bed as if he were still tied. So he waited for permission to get up. Jimar wanted Robbie’s dick as hard as a steel pole before taking him downstairs to his folks. So he lightly touched every erotic zone on his brother’s body and tickled and teased him until he was constantly moaning. He was untied, yet had to stay spread-eagle as his black brother tickled him and erotically teased him to near climax. Jimar, proud of his work, told Robbie, “Let’s go down to the kitchen and meet my folks. Remember to keep your hands behind you.”

Dutifully, he moved through the doorway ahead of Jimar and went down the stairs with his bouncing, pointing dick leading the way as he told Robbie that Matt and Rachel were “his” parents now, and not “their” parents any longer. How odd that felt to him. Jimar pushed ahead of him and entered the kitchen first. Then Robbie entered. He saw Rachel, his mom, with her back to him. Matt was sitting at the table having coffee. Matt called to his wife and she turned. Robbie flushed red as he now stood before his mother almost naked. He watched, intensely embarrassed, as her eyes fell directly to his very noticeable pole-like boner pushing his briefs out away from his body. Jimar took a seat and just acted innocently.

Then Rachel sat down next to Matt. They were both extremely pleased to see Robbie with a boner and assumed it was his own making. Even though Jimar had something to do with it, Robbie was truly erotically excited to be humiliated like this. The coffee smelled good as did the aroma of the toast that had been cooked. Matt pointed to the floor indicating for Robbie to move to that spot. He now stood beside the table so that his still trapped erection projected over the table edge. “Stand tall and place your hands behind your head,” Matt commanded. Robbie obeyed. “Come stand next to me, boy,” Rachel commanded. “What is that inside your underwear?” His belly drew tighter as she reached out and stroked the fine hair that ran from his belly button down and inside the waistband of his pants.

“Miss, my ... my ...” Robbie stammered and shuddered. This was his mom he was talking to. She was the one he had always confided in. She had cleaned and cooked for him, kissed him on birthdays and anytime he needed to be consoled. She had played and laughed with him, and now he had learned that she had been checking his soiled underwear and plotting his future. He stammered some more as he said, “my ... my … cock, Miss.” She asked if that was all as she pushed a sharp fingernail into his belly button. Looking straight into her eyes, he replied, “and my balls, Miss.”

“Tell me, what is inside your balls, boy?” “Semen, Miss.” She replied. “Don't you mean boy cum?” Robbie politely nodded in agreement. “Say it. Say I have boy cum in my balls.” He repeated it word for word. If anyone was a mistress of humiliation it was her. She and Matt had participated in their secret S and M club for years. But Robbie had yet to come to grips with that idea, or indeed, that lifestyle. It caused Robbie’s dick to bob. Matt and Rachel loved his reaction. They were going to work things out just fine. “And what is this? All this yellow wet stuff all over your underwear, boy?” She chided him. “Miss, I peed myself this morning. I am so sorry. But I peed all over myself,” Robbie whimpered in intense embarrassment. Both Rachel and Matt noticed that his dick remained erect. They knew he needed this treatment. They ignored that comment.

“Are you hungry?” Matt asked. Robbie responded positively. Taking a piece of toast, his father threw it to the floor, telling the boy to eat. Falling to the floor, Robbie took the toast and ate it almost like a hamster. He was then asked if he was thirsty. “Yes please, sir.” Begged Robbie. The water was cold as Matt emptied the contents of the jug over the kneeling boy’s head. Rachel smiled as it ran down his naked torso and soaked into his white underwear revealing the outline of his pink bubble butt. It now showed his flesh color right through it. Rachel instructed him to stand up and against the table with his thighs touching the table edge.

“Now,” she said, “put your hand inside your underwear and tell me what you find. And then describe it.” Robbie put his right hand into his briefs. “Well?” she said. “I am holding my … my … cock.” He stammered out its dimensions to her and said it was a cut dick. Then Rachel asked him what else he had in there. She watched his hand push down further. “I am holding my balls, Miss.” She wanted him to describe those too. She made him fondle himself even more by asking which side the largest one was on and delighted in watching him squeeze himself to find the answer. Robbie had never felt so much humiliation. Jimar sat quietly and took it all in. He knew he would have many, many opportunities to dominate his white “slave” brother.

“Rachel?” Matt asked, “Did you say that you had not seen Robbie's cock and balls?” She nodded. “Well, do you think they are like he just described?” She said she wasn’t sure and that she couldn’t recall having ever seen Robbie naked since he was about nine or ten. Matt turned to Robbie and told him to pull his filthy underwear down. Could he refuse? What would be the penalty for failing to comply, he wondered? Not only did he not want his mom to see his private parts in particular, but he was so shy and modest in general. Matt's order to pull his briefs down resounded in Robbie’s head. For a man - even Matt - to see his most intimate body area was one thing but for Rachel to see it was another!

Matt had instructed him to push down his boxers and stand with his legs apart, hands again behind his head with his groin thrust forward and to focus on the wall directly in front of him. He slipped the underwear down to bunch around his thighs. He was so embarrassed at having his private parts so exposed to his parents knowing that they were looking at them, and discussing them. Robbie felt fingers touch his hanging balls then lift them to feel their weight, then fingers on the tip of his erect cock. All the while, not breaking his stare, past them, to the wall he was facing. His dick was once again bobbing up and down. He really needed to cum, but not here, not like this. Fingers touched the tender glans all over. Matt stood up and moved behind him. Matt caressed the skin on the nape of the boy’s neck knowing the effect this would have. Robbie then felt Matt's hands run tiny circles on his firm, tensed buttocks - every sensation going straight to his cock.

Rachel sat back in her chair, coffee in hand taking in the sight of their new trainee. She had dismissed from her mind the fact that he was their adopted son. Before their discovery yesterday, they loved him like their own son. But after they surprisingly found out that he had a deep need to be a sub, which Matt had then discussed with him in depth, they had to make a life-changing decision concerning Robbie. Rachel and Matt could either maintain him as their loving, adorable son, or accept him into their private world of S and M as their slave. They had chosen the latter, but not because of their personal desires, but because Robbie hungered for it. Without completely understanding S and M and the intense content it included, he knew that it was “where” he belonged. Rachel was now one of his teachers and a good one. It was easy for her to switch herself into the mistress role even as she gazed at the naked, boned-up boy she was now humiliating.

Interestingly, Rachel and Matt were both gay. The relationship she and Matt had had since their first meeting twenty years ago was one of pretense. In their middle-class neighborhood, they felt strongly that they should come across as “strait-laced.” Even the adoption of these two children was to help hide their darker, true interest and practices. Of course, they engaged in And practices in their own home, but their main expression of their erotica was saved for when they went to Hardington, a small town about thirty miles away. They maintained separate connections and friends where they lived, from where they “played.”

Hardington was an older hippie/punk safe haven. It was not a dirty town, but one that was revived by the liberal artists’ community. The several blocks of the restored downtown district were more pedestrian-oriented and featured shops like tattoo parlors, sex toy shops, piercing stations, custom leather-making establishments, and so on. The police there understood and accepted a wide mix of social and public behaviors. It had a large gay population as well as a more straight Sand M community. Many fringe groups found it a neat and comfortable town to live in or to visit. Hardington was where Matt and Rachel would go, at least once a month to join with their power-exchange group to play out their dungeon games.

Rachel continued to look at every square inch of Robbie's naked body. She could see the humiliation in his eyes as Matt's touches were causing his body to tremble and shake.

She was pleased with his dick size as this would be key to her plans. She continued to take in his body as he displayed himself against the wall as told, with his jock tucked under his balls. He was quite athletic from all the sport and swimming he did. Dark circles surrounded and emphasized his nipples that were now standing proud from his taut pectoral muscles. She looked down and followed the faint trail of dark blond hair down again to his pubic bush and the thrust forward hips. At that moment Matt had reached between the boy’s legs. Robbie's balls rested in Matt’s palm which he used to push forward and upward to give Rachel a better view. Robbie’s jockstrap, which was now just bunched up under his balls, was not removed to make him totally naked. No, it was more humiliating for Robbie to feel his underwear on his upper thighs. It was a false sense of security. It was so close, and it would be so easy to just reach down and pull it up and reclaim his privacy. But Matt chose to leave it there to taunt him. It made for a more indecent display for the family to see. The bulk of jock fabric under his balls forced his rigid dick to jut out so obscenely and beautifully. He was like an animal being inspected for sale or use.

As a final touch, Matt curled a finger back to spread apart the two spheres enclosed in the taut bag of skin. The boy’s ball sac swung a few times when Matt let it go. Rachel was enjoying Robbie's humiliation but her mind was busy planning her part in the few days ahead which would be crucial to the boy’s training.

“Do you think you will be able to handle pain?” Matt asked Robbie as he took one of Robbie's erect nipples and gave it a slow, slowly intense-building pinch that caused the boy to wince and cry out a “yes sir.” “You will now go to the shower and bathe. I shall be there in eight minutes. Do not use any hot water. That's not to be wasted on you. Now go.” Then he told Jimar to start on his housework. Robbie made for the door but stopped in his tracks when Matt spoke again. “I expect to see you in the same state of arousal when I get up there, do you understand?” He shouted a “Yes, sir,” he replied.

When Matt entered the bathroom he could see that the boy had run the shower at half power. At least he was thinking on his feet. Looking at Robbie’s backside, he could also see that his right arm was moving in a regular pumping motion, his hand working to keep his cock erect as the naked slender body shook under the constant flow of cold water. Had it been winter the water would have been icy cold. Robbie jumped when Matt's voice sounded telling him to turn the water off and turn around. In desperation, he still continued to pull at his cock. When ordered to let it go it stuck out from his groin. It looked red and sore to Matt, which pleased him.

The little hand towel Matt had given him soon became soaked as he tried to dry himself. As a further humiliation, he handed Robbie a cloth backed scrubber which was about three inches wide and two feet long, with a grab handle on each end. Typically, one would soap this up, loop it over the back and pull in alternation directions to scrub clean what could not reach with one’s hands. It is made of a very coarse, rough material, and over the back it certainly felt good. Matt gave him this without soap and told him to pass the dry back scrubber between his legs and draw it hard and firmly back and forth over his balls and erect cock. It must have felt like a kitchen scouring pad, and it brought him a lot of pain. .He was only allowed to stop when tears ran from his eyes.

“OK, now listen up.” Matt told him more sternly, “You now have rules. There will be many rules. First rule: At any time you are naked and told to “WAIT,” immediately beat yourself to a full erection, spread your feet three feet apart, thrust your hips forward to display your dick, and grasp your hands behind you just above your buttocks. Remain like that until you are told otherwise.” Then Matt added, “Never try to cover up your private parts when you are naked. This is a punishable offense. It should be obvious to you, but I wanted to say that officially.” The instructions were confirmed with the usual “yes sir”.

“Now go to your room and “WAIT,” Matt ordered. The boy was gone. Matt allowed two minutes before entering the room. Matt's cock hardened when he saw Robbie beating himself. He had visualized it many times when he had seen him in his baggy runny shorts and t-shirt, wishing he was not so shy and would expose more of his body to the world. But, for years, Matt could only imagine how Robbie’s hunky body was developing. He had to wait for the boy to declare his desires to be controlled before what he had imagined could become a reality. Just as the WAIT command required, Robbie stood there with his feet awkwardly three feet apart, with the required boner, thrusting his hips forward to openly display it while grasping his hands behind him just above his buttocks. Matt was very pleased, very pleased, but he did not want to show it - not yet.

“Now for a second command; when anyone, and I do mean anyone, tells you “AT EASE,” it is a command for you to stand tall, place your feet a normal shoulders’ width apart, keeping your hands down at the side of your body with all ten fingertips pressed against your outer thighs, looking forward and not moving until told otherwise. Let’s try that one now.” Robbie assumed the position as instructed. Matt stood just behind and to the side of the boy so that he could not see the look of pleasure on his father’s face. He wanted to take the stiff cock and continue to bring him to climax but he knew he could not, not at this early point. He watched as a small drop of precum oozed from the slit at its tip. He then looked at the shaft, at the tender red flesh below the shaft, still sore from the harsh towel scrubbing he had made Robbie inflict upon himself.

Matt told him that he would be going with Rachel into Hardington to buy new clothes. Matt found Robbie's black training shoes, his regular baggy shorts, a plain t-shirt, and placed them on the bed, which was now a stripped down mattress on a bed frame. Matt thought, “My god, doesn’t this boy have anything sexier? Colorful? More revealing?” He instructed Robbie to dress only in the items on the bed, no socks or underwear and told him to be in the kitchen in ten minutes. Matt and Rachel waited for Robbie to appear as they sat drinking coffee.

Robbie arrived, dressed exactly as he had been told to dress. His blond hair, styled to hang halfway to his shoulders, now dry and brushed, framed his face nicely. Rachel said, “I think we will have to pay a visit to the barber in Hardington and have your hair cut short, or shaved off.” Robbie’s face fell. He had spent hours in the past year getting his hairstyle right. He did not want to have it removed. His stomach kind of knotted up at the thought. She went on. “Yes, and also we need to pick out a swimming outfit, underwear, and something to wear to our group. In fact,” she said, “a completely new wardrobe. And, look, while we are gone, Matt is going to rearrange your bedroom for you to make it appropriate for your new lifestyle.”

It was not a warm day, just an average temperature, but she made Robbie remove his tee shirt before they got into the car. The whole mood had changed as Rachel played a cassette of sultry music. No conversation took place as they drove to Hardington. Robbie felt strange as he sat silently, next to his mom. Or, was it his former mom and current mistress?

As they got on the highway to Hardington, Robbie felt uncomfortable when he thought about passers-by seeing his naked upper torso. As they drove by and noticed him, younger female drivers smiled. Eventually, they entered Hardington. Rachel drove slowly through the traffic in the busy little town and Robbie noticed how people would look, even stare at him, because in his nakedness, his brawny chest and well-toned arm could be seen. He wished Matt had let him wear underwear, especially since these particular shorts were so baggy and loose fitting.

The air was cooler when they arrived in the parking structure. The concrete, multiple-story parking levels were shaded and cold. The cold air caused his nipples to stand erect and his body to break out in goose pimples. He gripped the tee shirt in his right hand, and holding it out to Rachel was his way of asking to put it on. She could see that his eyes were asking for permission. She locked the car and ordered Robbie to her side. Taking hold of his baggy shorts, which she had always hated, she quickly snapped off the one and the only button that held his shorts up. Now they were only held together by the closed zipper. Robbie swallowed hard but just stayed still. Then Rachel tugged his shorts down firmly to rest on his hip bones and to expose the trail of hair that ran from his navel to his dick. Normally, his underwear would cover his midsection, but he was not allowed to wear any. He prayed that his zipper would at least prevent his pants from falling.

The sun was welcome on his chilled body as they entered the main downtown street of shops. He could feel the eyes of girls, women, and men staring at him as they passed. Rachel was not fazed at all by anything. In fact the more attention they got the more she seemed to like it. She knew that, without underwear, he showed more of his skin around his slim waist. She also knew that without underwear his sizable cock would swing freely as he walked, causing the tender head to rub against the heavy, rough material. She wanted him to feel erotic, as well as embarrassed.

Dear Sweet Robbie
Part 3 of 5 or ... [full_story_link]http://www.gayties.com/page/kinksville/robbie_4/[/full_story_link]

It was just after 10:00 AM when they arrived at the barbershop. She was greeted on entering by one of the two barbers. He addressed her as Miss Rachel. He was of average height, around thirty, very slim, and with pinkish hair and some piercings on his face; he seemed obviously gay. He gave Robbie a glowing smile as his eyes fixed on the half-naked beauty who stood before him. The barber introduced himself and Rachel said, “José, this is my dear sweet Robbie. We need to do something about his hair.” Without her asking, José gave Rachel a portfolio of pictures showing many different styles of men’s hair. Then the barber invited Rachel and Robbie to go through to the private salon seating area, assuring Rachel that he would soon be finished with his current customer.

As they were waiting, and when Rachel finished looking through all the photos, she handed the portfolio to Robbie to check them out for himself. Robbie was surprised that he would get to pick out his own hairstyle and feasted his eyes on a couple that he thought would look good on him. He felt a sense of relief that he was not going to leave here looking like a weirdo or freak. After all, his hair was important to him and was a major part of his look. He picked out two styles and was debating over which he would choose. These were not too different from what he now had; both were on the long side and in current fashion. In ten minutes José entered the private waiting area to escort Rachel and Robbie to the empty barber chair, Robbie carried the book open at the page of the cut he had picked out. For the first time today, Robbie was actually smiling with enthusiasm. He thought that maybe he was being too judgmental upon his mother.

“Up here Robbie,” José said cheerfully as he patted the blond leather chair seat. And Robbie stepped up to it, still bare-chested. Somewhere along the way, he had misplaced his white t-shirt, but could not figure how it had gone missing. He wanted it to cover up when they left.

José looked at Rachel and asked her if she had chosen a style. Robbie held up the book and pointed to the one he wanted. José held up the wrap-around cape to cover Robbie’s body from falling hair cropping. Rachel shook her head, meaning there was no need to cover his body, so José replaced the cape on the hook behind him and smiled. Being gay, he would enjoy looking at Robbie’s body as he styled his hair. Robbie sat there, waiting to be covered and was surprised when he realized he would not be. So he just sat there holding the book at the page showing the style he wanted.

“OK. Now, which style?” José asked as he looked at Rachel. Robbie thought he was talking to him so, again he pointed at the photo of a haircut the students in his school would envy. At least he felt relieved he would come out of there looking sharp. Rachel responded, “Just a buzz cut for today.” Robbie was shocked! He sat there horrified as his finger was still stuck on the hairdo he wanted. José gently took the book, closed it and put it back on the shelf. Robbie knew he was going to look like a freak, a near bald one. He mouthed the word “please.” But Rachel did not respond to that. Instead, she said, “Sweetie, just keep your eyes closed and your arms glued to the armrest. Don’t move until I tell you too, OK, dear? If I hear you have not been fully compliant with José, I will put you over my knee, right here, and spank your cute little butt in front of all these nice people.” Robbie absolutely knew she meant it. Robbie closed his eyes and placed his forearms on the chair armrests.

José asked if she wanted the tiny hairs on his ears and from his nose trimmed. “That’s fine; just do your usual good job for my dear sweet Robbie. I’ll be next door getting some coffee. Be back in a short while.” Then she added, “Oh, and put something on his skin, it looks so dry.” Then she left. Robbie kept his eyes closed and sat there hearing the buzz of the clippers and feeling chunks of his precious hair fall all over his naked shoulders, chest, belly, and arms as José worked to get rid of the boy’s mop of blond hair.

José started in. First, he went lightly over his outer ears. The hairs there were so fine that most people would not even notice them. Still, he was a barber, a specialist about body hair. Then he felt it over the other ear. It did tickle Robbie a bit. Next, José, using his thumb, pushed the tip of Robbie’s nose upward, making a funny pig-nose image. A couple of his waiting customers quietly giggled at the animal face. José used a much smaller nose-hair removal gadget there. Finally, he was done and Robbie felt the wispy soft hair brush swishing away the hair on his face, bare shoulders, and chest. Of course, there was nothing to brush away, but José knew how the fine haired brush tickled where ever he used it. Robbie started to release his tight finger grip on the arms of the chair to lift up his body to get away from the tickle, but José stopped him. The boy complied and remained seated with his eyes closed. José next targeted his wispy brush over Robbie’s nipples, lingering there and smiling as he knew the erotic feeling his customer was receiving through his now erect nipples. “Boy, these tiny hairs can sure stick to your skin, but I’ll get them.” Then he whisked the brush over the rest of his upper body and arms.

José stated, more to himself, “These hairs are sticking to your chest,” and returned the brush to Robbie's nipples to tease him more. José smiled as he noticed that Robbie’s waist button was missing from the front of his shorts; shorts that Rachel had previously tugged down obscenely low so the boy’s ass crack was showing halfway down his ass. José laughed to himself at the thought that only the closed metal zipper was holding his shorts up. But that was the idea since Rachel pulled that button off earlier. With Robbie’s eyes kept closed, as he had been ordered to do, he did not realize that José was moving the zipper down fully with one hand because he disguised the maneuver by flicking the brush over his belly and pants-covered groin with the other hand at the same time.

Now Robbie was shirtless and sitting there quietly, unaware of any details, including that his zipper was now fully opened and that his buttonless flaps fell wide open to each side of his lap. Robbie’s dick was fully exposed. It wasn’t hard, but full. Customers began using their cell photos take more photos. Since the waistband of his shorts was halfway down his ass when he first sat down, as Rachel had required it to be, his ass had been in direct contact on the cool leather of the seat. Robbie felt weird about that, but he got used to it as he sat there.

“Relax Robbie, I going to lower the back of the chair to recline.” Actually, he adjusted the back to fully recline. Now it was almost level with the floor. Robbie continued to hold onto the chair arms and keep his eyes close. “I see you have more hairs on your lower belly. I take care of it. You must look good for Miss Rachel.” José took his electric clippers again and cleverly placed them on Robbie’s belly. But instead of clipping hair that wasn’t there, he lightly rubbed the back side of the vibrating head all around the boy’s lower torso, even over Robbie’s hip bones, pretending to catch any stray hairs. This sent the boy into a wiggling frenzy. Robbie tried to hold still, but José knew just how to lightly tickle-tease this sensitive area and Robbie twisted and wiggled to try to avoid the vibration. He even gyrated his hips up and down to try to ward off the vibrating clippers.

The maneuver was completely successful. It went as planned. During the “accidental” tickling distraction, José was able to covertly and gently tug Robbie’s shorts all the way down to his ankles. The boy now laid out flat on his back, totally naked from his head to his ankles. And what did Robbie think about being stripped naked in public and put on display? Nothing. His attention was singularly focused on preparing himself for any future tickling sensation. “OK. I now going to set you back up and start on the hair on your head.” And up went the back of the chair to the standard sitting position.

Robbie was about to speak up, to have the barber hurry it along. But he remembered his mom’s warning of a severe public spanking. José used another attention distraction. “I’m going to place a hot towel over your face to ready your shin for conditioner.” Robbie just nodded without opening his eyes. The towel felt too hot at first but quickly become more tolerable, and in moments, it was pleasantly warm. Robbie just let go and completely relaxed under the gentle soothing warmth of the facial towel.

There were just about a half dozen other customers in the shop. They were not waiting their turn for a haircut, but just there to watch this ‘victim’ transformation. It was not a rarity, but rather an enjoyable bit of entertainment for the town’s folk as well as the regular visitors. The barbershop had folding chairs placed just in front of the workstations for just such voyeurs. So, there was sweet, cute, handsome Robbie, a muscle-toned 18-year-old. He was in the first barber chair station right next to the front window. As usual, there were a few inquisitive people on the street with their faces pressed on the glass shading their eyes with one hand cupped against the glass to see youth most clearly. Robbie, thinking he was NOT an obscene spectacle, was oblivious to them all.

José, seeing people outside looking in, swiveled the heavy leather chair toward the plate glass window. There Robbie sat with a warm towel over his face, naked except for his shorts bunched around his ankle. Such a perfect display window attraction for this kinky town.

There were just about a half dozen other customers in this quaint barbershop. They were not waiting their turn for a haircut, but just there to watch this ‘victim’ transformation. It was not a rarity, but rather an enjoyable bit of entertainment for the town’s folk as well as the regular visitors. The barbershop had folding chairs placed just in front of the workstations for just such voyeurs. So, there was sweet, cute, handsome Robbie, a muscle-toned 18-year-old. He was in the first barber chair station right next to the front window. As usual, there were a few inquisitive people on the street with their faces pressed on the glass shading their eyes with one hand cupped against the glass to see youth most clearly. Robbie, thinking he was NOT an obscene spectacle, was oblivious to them all.

José, seeing people outside looking in, swiveled the heavy leather chair toward the plate glass window. There Robbie sat with a warm towel over his face, naked except for his shorts bunched around his ankle. Such a perfect display window attraction for this kinky town.

José swiveled the chair back into the normal position, with Robbie feet pointing toward the seated voguers. The barber removed the towel from Robbie’s face and picked up different clippers this time, one with a close-cutting blade. He clicked it on and proceeded to give the 18-year-old the buzz cut his mother, Miss Rachel, “ordered” José to give him. It did not matter that Robbie truly liked his longer hairstyle. In his new life as a sub, to his adopted parents, he needed to look like a sub. As soon as José began, Robbie was so relaxed from being under that warm, comforting towel that his head would slowly drop to one side. “Ok, Robbie, you need to use one hand to study your head. But keep your eye closed as Miss Rachel requires.”

In one way, Robbie looked bored. But in the most obvious way, he looked so fucking sexy. And to think, he was sitting in a public barbershop, near the front display window, totally naked, thinking he was still covered up, and no one was giving him a second look.

José did not have Miss Rachel’s permission to touch the boy’s dick, so he avoided doing that, though he thought she would not have minded. He continued giving the submissive a proper buzz cut. It did not take long, there was no styling involved. Now he needed to sweep all the hair off his shoulders chest and arms and lap. As he looked at the relaxed boy, he wanted to bring him back to life. Or. Better put, bring the boy’s big dick back to life, to attention. This time, José used a little stiffer brush. And as before, he concentrated on all the very sensitive areas on a man’s body. He brushed the shoulder, and then immediately began to whisk off the hair that settled on his chest.

There were more photo flashes and a lot of smiles and whispering among the other customers. Obviously, Robbie was oblivious to it all; that was the plan. He was in the barber chair, totally naked all the way down to the bunched up shorts around his tennis shoes. The brushing continues everywhere, but not on his private parts. If Robbie felt anything touching his dick or balls, or even his upper thighs, he would realize he was bare there.

José was really enjoying himself, when he noticed Rachel walking toward his shop, from across the street. “Robbie,” the barber said sharply as he poked the boy, “Your Miss Rachel is returning for you. Now keep eyes closed, sit up straight. Make your Mistress proud.” Robbie did as told and really wanted to impress his Mother, I mean, his Mistress. He kept his hand on the chair arms, sat up with his head high, and squeezed his eyes shut tight. He was not sure why he wanted to impress her, but he was starting to figure out, she was his absolute boss. Her wishes were what he needed to obey, or suffer extreme consequences. When Rachel walked in she looked at Robbie sitting at attention, just as she left him. She was pleased with that as well as seeing Robbie totally naked in full view of maybe a dozen people. Rachel was more than happy with herself, she was ecstatic in her son, her new sub slave, progressing as he needed to, even though she would not let that wonderful excitement she now carried, ooze out.

The barber began to apply moisturizer to Robbie’s face. What Rachel was staring at specifically as she smiled broadly was Robbie’s huge boner. All José’s teasing with his brush had caused the desired result-- a hard dick jutting upward from his groin. All Robbie thought about was being correctly situated in the barber chair as his Mistress ordered him to be. He just wanted to be properly presented when Rachel saw him. He knew he was excited, erotically excited, but he did not sense his dick was showing anything obscene. Robbie had no idea, with his eyes closed, just how properly he was saluting his Mistress.

One might assume a stern mistress like Rachel would have been upset, walking in on this indecent public spectacle involving her “son.” But actually, she took a seat and smiled blissfully as she told José, “I see you are putting on the medication cream. I hope my dear sweet Robbie has cooperated fully,” she asked and was pleased when José nodded yes.

It was obvious to José that Rachel was into giving her boy a good dose of forced public exhibitionism and all the public humiliation that goes along with it. José wanted to do his best to entertain all his customers, but he especially wanted to satisfy Rachel. “OK Robbie, relax. Now that I finish your face. I will place another hot towel over it, to warm the skin as I now do your chest with lotion.” And so another very warm, but soothing towel was placed on the boy’s face. “I’m going to apply this moisturizer to where I trimmed your body hair.” Of course, he did not actually trim his chest hair, there was nothing to trim. He just teased the hell out of his nipples. And then Robbie felt warm hands gently rubbing his chest all over. It was a massage-like firm touch at first, but gradually became a very light touch. He rubbed the silky smooth lotion all over his upper torso, but more and more concentrated around and on Robbie’s nipples.

José noticed, as he expected to, that each time he “accidentally” flicked the tips of his fingernails over one of Robbie’s now hard nipples, Robbie’s dick would give an up and down nod. Then a moan would escape from under the towel. “Sorry if this stings, but I need to rub this anti-inflammatory cream on you. I see irritation around your nipples and they look puffy. It will just take a minute to rub on.” The lotion did not sting. It was just a regular, greasy hand lotion. José was just making some technical justification for playing with his muscular chest.

Again, José’s fingertips teased and tickled Robbie’s nipples, lightly scratching over the nubs. The boy’s dick twitched up, paused, and twisted down. José pinched both nipples at the same time, rather firmly. Again Robbie’s dick twitched up, paused, and twisted down. Rachel watched José erotically massaging her son as he sat naked on public display. It’s not the first time she had seen him do that to other subs. She was enjoying it very much. Then she told José, “We need to go and do some shopping now.” José nodded, and wiped the excess cream off Robbie’s chest and removed the towel from his face. The boy still kept his eyes closed. He was boned up, and yet relaxed and sleepy. Then Rachel said to him with a big smile, “Hi my dear sweet Robbie. You are all done. You can open your eyes now but still do not move, OK sweetie?” He finally opened his eyes and looked at Rachel and about a dozen customers who were now gathered around looking at him. Many took photos with their cell phones. Then he looked down at his naked body and stared at his huge boner sticking straight up AND FREAKED OUT! He screamed out loud “NO!” He forgot about the rule not to speak, “MOM, I AM SO SORRY! I AM SO EMBARRASSED. I DON’T KNOW WHAT OR WHY … OH MOM, PLEASE LET’S GET OUT OF HERE! OH GOD, PLEASE …” Robbie cried out loudly.

“Oh, of course, dear.” She proudly smiled, as any mistress would in seeing her son fully humiliated in public. “But these nice people have asked if they can take some selfies with you. Aren’t you so precious darling? Is that OK with you, dear?” He knew Rachel was putting on a pretentious, sweet manner for these people. He knew better than to tell his mistress no. He was red-faced with embarrassment as he nodded his head. Of course, the customers did not make such a request, but now that they heard her offer, they all wanted to. One by one each came up and stood beside Robbie and smiled; then FLASH. One put her arm on his shoulder, one pinched his nipple, another, a middle-aged guy, smile and touched the tip of his erect dick. FLASH.

“OK sweetie, get up and pull up your shorts. You are such a cock-tease, aren’t you my dear sweet Robbie?” She pinched his cheek and smile sweetly. Robbie’s face was red with shame. He quickly pulled up his pants and then the zipper, which barely held the shorts up because the securing waistband button was pulled off by Rachel earlier. “Adjust them as I showed you, dear,” she reminded him. And Robbie tugged them down carefully so the waistband rested on his hip bones. There was no tab to pay since Rachel had allowed the shop to “borrow” her boy to entertain.

As she were about to leave, a teen came up to Robbie and asked, “Hey dude, where did you get those neat tennis shoes, I’ve got to get me some of those.” They were the latest fashion, and very expensive, like $200.00. Robbie had good taste.

But before Robbie could reply with the store name where he had bought them, Rachel jumped in, “Oh do you like those? My dear sweet Robbie would like you to have them. They don’t fit him properly anyway.” She looked at Robbie with a very “hard” stiff smile, and he knew what he had to do. Still standing, he bent down and untied and slipped them off of his feet. He hesitantly handed them over to the kid. Robbie was now barefooted since he had not been allowed to wear socks when he left the house this morning. No footwear, no shirt, no underwear, not even a head of hair, Robbie was slowly being stripped naked and molded into his new sub behavior. He was down to only his shorts, and they did not even have a securing fastener.

Sporting his “submissive” new buzz cut, Robbie followed behind Rachel as they left the barber. They walked around the downtown for a while. Robbie thought Rachel was having difficulty in finding a particular store, but she just wanted to parade her boy in public, wearing only his hanging shorts. Without asking him, they stopped at a public restroom. She told him to use it. “OK, Mom.”

“What the hell did you call me?! Boy?! Do you want me to pull your shorts down right here and pull you over my knees and spank your ass until you cry for me to stop?! Then leave you here!” She was feigning being upset.

“Oh, I am so sorry Miss. I really disrespected you.” Robbie immediately became frightened and felt so bad at the way he had stupidly addressed his mistress. “Oh please forgive me, Mistress Rachel. I won’t ever do that again. Please, I am so ashamed. I was so fucking rude to you.” And Robbie broke down. “May I please use the bathroom Mistress Rachel? I mean, if you think I should. Please, Miss?” She accepted his profuse apologies, with a stern warning against any repetition of such behavior, and allowed him to use the restroom. He was so thankful.

Then they entered the sportswear clothing store. Rachel led the way to the rear of the shop where the male teen section was. Rachel began sliding the hangers of Speedo swimsuits along the rail as she looked at the different designs. Two more teen boys were in the area, one with his parents the other with his mom. The parents were clasping a variety of new school clothes they had selected for purchase. A middle-aged male clerk inquired of Rachel if she needed any help. “Yes,” She said. “I would like a pair of pale blue Speedos for my dear sweet Robbie.” The clerk opened a long counter drawer and produced several packets of the required item which he placed on the counter. He took several sizes from their packets. Rachel was not interested in cost, the practical use of the item or even the right color. Only the size at that moment in time was her main interest. She selected a pair. “Could he try them on?” The clerk told her yes as long as he kept his underwear on.

“That’s not a problem,” she lied, letting the clerk think he did have on underwear. The clerk pulled out several pairs of Speedos in Robbie’s size. “No, no, these won’t do. You see, the waist would come up to his belly button. I want the low rise.” The clerk then put those away and pulled out a low rise pair. Rachel held it up, “No, not like this either. Its low rise, but it would still come him up too high. I want it lower, so all his pubic hair will show.” The clerk again sorted through the various styles of Speedo's and came up with one that was cut much lower and handed it to Rachel. “Okay, Robbie, dear, try these on and come out here so we can see how they look.” Robbie took the pair and went into the change room and took off his jogging shorts and put on the Speedo's he had been given. “Oh my God.” He said to himself. “These are obscene. I can’t wear these, and I can’t come out there!” But Rachel called him to hurry up, and he did finally come out to what was a small gathering of customers who were staring at him. It was very low cut. There was only about two inches of material around his waist at the hip. And you could see his lower belly and almost all his pubic hair. Luckily it was cut high enough in the back to fully cover his ass cheeks.

“Walk around the store, Robbie, let us take a look.” Robbie was feeling more and more like a piece of meat. And what was all this “let US take a look?” “NO, no, these are not right either. Sorry, I just don’t want my dear sweet Robbie to look sloppy in public. That just won’t do.” Robbie was getting hard with all the humiliation and the stares from a dozen customers, all pretending not to be paying attention. None of them would leave the area in front of the dressing room. “Look for a pair that is no wider than one inch at the hip, please.” The clerk opened a different drawer marked “bikinis” and found one in there and offered it to Rachel. “Well, let’s see how this one fits, shall we?” The clerk got called away to assist another customer up front. So Rachel thought she had a free hand to embarrass Robbie further. “Robbie, we want to see you in these.” Robbie put out his hand to take them, but Rachel told him he couldn’t take both pairs of Speedos into the dressing room. “Take those off first, dear,” she said, pretending to be kind.

Dear Sweet Robbie
Part 4 of 5 or ... [full_story_link]http://www.gayties.com/page/kinksville/robbie_4/[/full_story_link]

Robbie just stood there, aghast. He was not crying, but his eyes were seeping a tear or two. Rachel snapped her fingers and he pulled the low cut Speedo's own and held them up to cover his rigid dick. Again Rachel snapped her fingers, and he handed them over, expecting to get the other ones immediately. He was standing there stark naked; he had left the house without being allowed to even wear briefs. A few people flashed a camera phone photo. Rachel pretended to be deciding the difference between the two styles. “Okay, Robbie, go and put these on so we can check them out.” He quickly grabbed them and made a beeline for the changing room, about fifteen feet away. The clerk had had to step away to deal with a cash register problem.

Robbie tried them on and saw that the fit was awful. His dick could barely fit in the pouch. He knew he had no choice, so he reluctantly came out and showed how they fit. His dick and balls were all smashed together. “Well, sweetie, how do you think they fit?” Rachel asked. Finally, he was being actually asked for his input.

“I … I … I don’t … don’t think …” Robbie was trying to say no to these bikinis.

“Oh dear. I see the problem.” She had him turn around and she pulled back the back panel covering his butt to check the size. It said size 32. That was his size. “Let me check the drawer myself.” She opened the drawer that said bikinis and found one marked size 28. She mumbled the size to herself, not wanting Robbie to hear her. “Okay, these should fit better. Let me have those.” And immediately Robbie stripped naked once again, right in the store in front of everyone. And again, as he stood there with a boned up dick, Rachel pretended to be examining the color of the material she had just chosen. “No, I don’t think this orange is a good color for you.” A couple of phone flashes went off. She went back into the same drawer and found another size 28, but a white one, and told him to try that pair on.

He grabbed it quickly, a little too quickly; he was just way too nervous standing there naked. He didn’t even leave to go into the dressing room. What was the point? He just stepped first one foot, and then the other into the suit. But then a surprised and puzzled look came over his face as he struggled to pull up the tight suit. He had to wriggle his thighs and hips as he slowly pulled it up. Even though it finally stretched over his butt, it was certainly way too small. He did manage to jam his balls and dick in the pouch, but he could feel the back side would no longer cover his ass. When fully pulled up, he reached behind him and felt his cheeks and realized that he was showing two inches of his ass crack. “Okay, dear, turn around. Let us take a good look.” And he did as ordered. “Now stretch your arms way up high; we want to be sure they won’t fall off.” He did. “OK, I see the problem,” she said.

In front of the other all the customers, Rachel pulled down the front of his suit a little, to find the pull string and untied it. She then put her hand inside the front pouch and pulled on his jammed in “folded dick,” and straightened it out and to angled it to his right hip. Then she reached deeper inside and gently grabbed and readjusted his balls so that they bulged in the front of his suit, rather than to be hiding down and under his groin. Now, instead of a big general mound in the front of the Speedos, Robbie was clearly, very clearly, showing his firm dick pointing up and to the right with a ball on each side at its base. More obvious, it could not be.

There was a full-length dressing mirror on nearby a pillar, which he looked in to see himself. There he was, totally naked but for this squeezed into bikini. He thought he looked like a slut. He was so embarrassed, and that caused his dick to get even stiffer. He was not even wearing shoes since his mother gave them away to a teen who had simply admired them. He wanted to die there and then from the humiliation as he saw the faces of the customers and especially the two teen boys who were chuckling at him. She made him turn and twist and bend over.

She made Robbie follow her around the store then asked another clerk, “Do you carry the Onion Skin brand running shorts? My dear sweet Robbie likes to show off his body in tiny, skimpy things.” The clerk pointed to where they were but told her that those shorts were sized differently and that he should measure him first to save time. “Very well,” she said, and the clerk gently took Robbie’s arms and walked him, barefooted and G-sting clad, a short distance to a measuring desk where there was also a mirror and a chair. There was a black curtain on the wall and Robbie was nudged to stand in front of it. The black curtain acted as a backdrop to help viewers see whatever fashion the subject was modeling more clearly. Unfortunately for shy Robbie, this was not a privacy area. It was fully open to the store and anyone could see him being served. Obviously, it was not intended for fitting skimpy clothing.

Rachel came over with a hand full of various shorts. Just as the clerk turned his back to search for his clothe tape in the draw, Rachel spoke up, “Robbie dear, hand me those bikinis and you can try some of these on.” He hesitated, not wanting to be naked in view of everyone. But there was Rachel’s extended arm, waiting for the bikini. He thought that if he moved quickly, he could whip them off and just as quickly put on the Onion Skins. Hopefully, no one would see him naked. Robbie stooped down and instantly slipped off the bikinis he was wearing and handed them to Rachel. When she took them he left his own arm extended out to her to receive the Onion Skins. But … his hand remained empty. He arm was sticking out, begging for some garment, any garment to out on. He was there naked, in the store! Standing in front of a black drape, as if on show to the world! Then the clerk said, “Here it is,” as he turned back around to see Robbie completely naked. “Oh … yes,” the clerk stuttered. He also knew Rachel from previous visits and came to respect her wishes. So he collected himself as if nothing was wrong. “OK, let’s see here. Let’s check your waist measurement.” Then he looked up at Rachel. “Miss Rachel, let’s have him step up on the platform against the black drapes.” Robbie hopped up and faced the room with the drape behind him. Oddly, the little stage area was right near the front plate glass windows. The clerk immediately proceeded to bring his arms around Robbie’s naked body adjusting the tape snugly to measure him. He wrote down his size.



“Might as well take his other usual measurements, I am thinking to get him a dress suit too.” Of course, she was not, but she marveled at her ability to publically humiliate her son, or actually, her slave boy. And, equally important to her and Matt, was the fact that Robbie desperately craved to be a public spectacle even if he was totally unaware of it now. Rachel and Matt knew just how to manipulatively bring him along to create the torment he would soon know he craved. All the measurements were, of course, completely unnecessary. But she, and every other patron in the store, and some passers-by, gladly waited and were all greatly entertained. Finally, with Robbie still on stage, Rachel handed Robbie a white pair of Onion Skins to try on. They fit perfectly and then she said. “Oh, those are lovely. Just twist and turn for me, and bend over dear. Let me see.”

Onion Skins were extremely light-weight, nearly see-thru, made for jogging. They were low in the hip and very short in length, so runners noticed no material causing friction on their thighs. In addition, each side had a slit all the way up to the waistband. If the wearer lifted his knee waist-high, you could see the curve of his ass through the slit. So they were designed to be very light-weight and non-binding on a runner’s legs and crotch. For normal modesty, the shorts came with a silk cup or pocket in which a man’s dick and balls would be placed for support when running or walking. The cup snapped to the inside front of the waistband which maded the shorts decent to wear in public. The ass cheeks had no extra covering, just the paper-thin “onion skin” material. Rachel knew the cup was removable. She would later toss out snap-on jock portion and just have him wear the flimsy “skins.

Again, she selected a white pair knowing that if this thin, white material got wet in any way, Robbie’s dick and ass would surely show through. She was content. “OK, dear, sweaty, take those off and let’s have you wear your more comfortable bikinis.” And again he stripped naked, but at least this time she handed him the G-string to put on. Robbie hated that stupid stingy bikini, but after just being totally naked in the store, gawked at by dozens of shoppers, he was happy to wear this obscene string-thing. It was a lot better than nothing. And, obviously, that is why Rachel had him strip naked, so he would then appreciate whatever “scraps” of modesty she would choose to give him. He was being trained, unwittingly learning that Rachel was in total control; he was being groomed as his public display boy toy.

“Robbie, let’s go over there and check some t-shirts for you.” She looked up as if to only now notice they were in the very front of the store. “Oh, there they are, near the front display windows. Come along, dear.” The t-shirt display was right inside the huge bay window. And the passers-by were all stopping and staring at Robbie, as Rachel pretended not to notice. She had him linger there for quite a while as she continued to pretend to browse. Then it was off to the checkout.

“I shall take these two items, the bikinis he’s wearing and these Onion Skins.” She told the clerk, a salesman she knew, who just called her “Miss Rachel.” She watched for any reaction from Robbie when he had said “Miss Rachel”. There was none. Robbie was too concerned and nervous about the bikinis he was wearing, and wanted to get back into the baggy cotton trunks he had walked in with.

“Would you like to pay in the normal manner, Miss Rachel?” She nodded. The clerk beamed an approving smile.

“Robbie, go to the changing room, remove the shorts and wait.” She stared at him for just a moment to make sure he understood that this request was really a command. “Wait” registered with him as she had just told him to remove the shorts first which would leave him naked. He went to the changing cubicle, closed the curtain that hung only to about two feet from the floor, and removed the bikinis. As he obeyed that “WAIT” command Matt taught him this morning, Robbie pumped his dick to a full erection, stood there with his feet awkwardly three feet apart, thrusting his hips forward to openly display it while grasping his hands behind him just above his buttocks. He was too embarrassed to look up when the cubicle curtain was pulled open. He recognized the lower half of the clerk’s body and could see the bulge in the front of his trousers. In this stance, Robbie presented his dick to that the clerk. The clerk fondled and rubbed every inch of this hunky teen’s body. He licked him all over, including his dick balls and ass crack, and asshole. He was one happy clerk. He left the cubicle and went into the office to beat off.

Rachel knew the clerk had been well paid by the erection he was showing in his trousers as he left the cubicle. Robbie got no such relief. He heard Rachel’s voice call out, “OK sweetie, get dressed and come on out, it’s time to go.” He looked around the cubicle for his knee-length shorts he had walked in with but he could not see them. He wondered if he was in the right dressing room, and he was. There was no sign of his baggy, heavy cotton shorts. The only thing he had to wear was that tiny, obscene bikini. And just then, he realized that that is what Rachel meant him to put back on by her “get dressed” command. So he did as best he could, trying to get the back panel of the bikini Speedo's to cover his ass more completely. As he emerged, Rachel took one look at his and the undersized bikini and shook her head. “No sweetie, fix your private parts like mama showed you. If you try to sit down with your equipment all bunched up under you, you’re going to crush your balls, dear. Now, do as I showed you … or, do you want me to do it for you again?”

Robbie did not want Rachel, who he still thought of as his mother, to fondle his dick, especially not in public. Robbie wanted to turn his back to her and fix it himself, but he already knew better than to turn his back on “Mistress Rachel.” So he stuck his hand in the front bikini pouch and pulled his still erect dick fully upward and pointed it at his right hip. Then he reached inside again, and maneuvered his balls, bringing them forward and separating them so one was on each side of his dick. He could not help but glimpse in the mirror and see just how nasty and obscene he looked. Then he stared in open-mouthed horror as he now noticed what everyone else had noticed earlier. Because the waistband strap of the bikini was so narrow, the tip of his fat dick could be seen slightly above and below that strap. He was actually showing his dick in public. He knew he was not allowed to ask a question or to make a comment without permission, so he just pointed at the tip of his dick displaying an intensely nervous look. “Oh, see, now you are wearing that properly. You are such a fast learner, my dear sweet Robbie. I was going to have you wear the Onion Skin shorts home, but you look perfect in those, and I know you want to wear those on the way home. Oh, my dear sweet Robbie, you are finally learning how to dress properly. And everyone can see that.”

It may seem that getting a haircut and buying a swimsuit and a pair of jogging shorts is not worth driving thirty miles to another town to do, but Mistress Rachel and her “charge” had a very full and important “training day. Rachel expressed no joy in Robbie’s behavior because she wanted him to always feel the need to try harder, to obey without hesitation, to need to please her more. But Mistress Rachel was extremely pleased. She was ecstatic inside, and could not wait to get home to tell her husband, Matt, all about their adventure.

Rachel escorted Robbie onto the downtown street, walking away from where she parked. They strolled quite a ways, with, at least, Rachel enjoying the stroll. She obviously was wandering down the main streets, enjoying making a public showing of her charge in his bikini. Each time he stepped down from a curb or up to a curb, his dick would pop free and stick out. He would immediately poke it back under the tiny waistband strap, catching the tip of his dick behind the narrow band of fabric that was jokingly the waistband; “waist string” would be more accurate. Rachel had an idea. She was a treasure trove of ideas, or, as most might call them, schemes. She guided Robbie to a nearby sidewalk ice cream cart, and she smiled each time she glanced over to see him re-tuck his hard dick back inside his bikini pouch. She ordered two triple-scoop ice cream cones, and they were the super-size waffle cones. She handed them both to Robbie who took one in each hand while she paid. Then, oddly, she ordered another one for herself. Robbie looked at her puzzled and she explained he was probably super hungry, so she got him two huge cones.

Then, in front of the ice cream man and the few others around them, she instructed Robbie, like a little child, on how to eat his ice cream. “Sweetie, we are a long way from the car, so as we walk back, I want you to lick, not bite into, each of those cones. Focus on the cones and on a warm day like this, they will soon start to drip all over you. So be careful, and lick each one once, alternately.” Robbie thought this was all very weird, but he was thankful for the cool treat on a day that had started off overcast and had now become rather warm. She spoke again, knowing everyone was eyeing his well-toned body, dressed only in not much more than a G-string. “Honey, they're starting to drip all over your hand. Why you wanted TWO cones, I'll never know, but if you make a mess, I will spank you good, right here and now, so focus on those cones and lick up every drip.”

Robbie nodded, bringing one up to his face and holding the other down at his waist. But that was not what Rachel wanted. She told him to hold both up near his face so he could be ready to catch the drips. Her purpose was three-fold: One, she wanted him concentrating on the dripping cones, as a distraction. Two, she wanted him to keep his eyes up and not look down where he would notice that his dick sprung out of the confines of his bikini and was now, again, hard and pointing to his left hip. And third, she wanted both his hands away from his waist so passers-by had a good, unobstructed view of his big hard dick.

It was so hilarious, at least to on-lookers. There was this hunky 18-year-old, muscle-toned, six-foot-tall-man, with a buzz haircut wearing what, at first glance, seemed like a woman’s skimpy panties. Worst, at a second glance, his big, rigid pole was sticking out from his groin pointing to the side and upward. WORST yet, he had his hands in front of his face, licking one dripping ice cream cone, and then the other, as he appeared blindly unaware of his state as he walked down the main street of the quaint little town of Hardington.

Rachel was so proud, not of Robbie, but of herself for manipulating this entire scene. Then, it dawned on her, if Robbie was unaware he was displaying his dick to the world, he was not feeling the public humiliation, which was the whole purpose of their shopping trip today.

“Robbie dear, I hope that you are enjoying our stroll.” He did not know what she meant as he quickly licked one drippy cone and then the other. “I mean, I don't have a problem with you wanting to flaunt yourself, and as I see all these folks with big smiles, I guess they do not either.” He was focused on the new drips running down his hand, down his wrist and arms. He was not aware that more people were keeping up with his pace. It was not difficult; they were not walking very fast, but no one passed him. They, more or less, were creating a group around him. He finally noticed some of these people were smiling and others outright laughing. He hadn't a clue why, and he followed the direction of the gaze of one guy, which caused him to look down at his bikini and … OH MY GOD!

He could not believe his dick was sticking out. His hands were not available, so he immediately squeezed his thighs together, trying to hide his dick from view. “Oh, god, Miss, oh, Miss … Please! I need to stop and fix this!” He was in a panic. “Please miss, please hold these for a minute,” referring to the cones.

“What is your problem, sweetie? I don't want to hold those sticky, ice cream dripping cones. Look how they’ve dripped all over you - not just your hands, but now on your chest and even your thighs. My dear sweet Robbie, you want mama to get her dress all messed up too?”

He only repeated “Oh please … oh … please … dear Miss...!”

Then, with a tone only slightly sterner, “Look, if you don't lick that mess off your hands and lick those cones so they stop dripping, I'm not letting you in the car. I just had it all cleaned. You can take the bus home.” Then she added a cruel touch of humiliation. “If you want to walk all over town with your penis sticking out just because you think everyone should see it, I really don't care. You are embarrassing me. And why in the world did you insist on buying that ridiculously tiny bikini? I should have let you buy the bra and panties you wanted to wear on the street. But, I suppose you are old enough to do things your way.” Robbie was in shock. He just heard his “mother” tell everyone that he wanted to dress up in lingerie and parade down the street. If there had been an open manhole, he would have jumped into it.

Then, for the sake of the audience, she pretended to calm down, “Look, sweetie, I'm not passing judgment on you, if you want to wear that tiny … itsy-bitsy … G-string … Well, that is fine with me. And if you want everyone gawking at you as a public spectacle, then that's fine too.”

“Please? Oh god … please? Please?” were all the words he could think of to get his mother … his mistress … to allow him to cover up. Robbie squeezed his thighs tighter together and wriggled his hips, hoping that his gyrations would cause his dick to get pushed back under the bikini material. He was so embarrassed and tried so hard to will his dick to make it deflate so it was not so noticable. Suddenly, there was a roar of laughter. So he looked down and was in a state of absolute horror. All his wriggling of his thighs and shaking of his hips had caused his balls to be pushed out too. Not only was his dick now fully out, but his balls were hanging out too, big and loose. His juggling movements had merely caused that tiny front patch of material to give way and it had accidentally worked fully to one side.

“Now look at you! What am I going to do with you, honey? You've been trying to push your balls out and you finally managed it! Well, at least you're proof our family has nothing to be ashamed of.” There were some applause and a few catcalls. “Okay, I give up. Yes, you may walk to the car like that. Can we now go, so we can minimize the embarrassment for all these fine folks?” Robbie hung his head in shame and stepped behind Rachel to block the view of his dick and balls from passers-by.

“No, you don't. Get in front of me so I can see that you don't drip ice cream all over my new dress. And, please keep licking.”

If Robbie could have just been rid of those two ice cream cones, he could have quickly reached down and tucked his private parts away. But that was not to be.

Finally, they made it to the parking garage and then to the car. Rachel got in but did not let Robbie in right away. “Toss the mess away; we passed a trash can at the entrance to the garage. Drop those things in there.” he did not want to walk back as there were people all around finding their cars, but he had no choice, Rachel waited. Robbie was glad to get back to the car and hop in. But still, she did not give him the nod. Instead, she looked him up and down and sighed, “Robbie, you are one big mess! Here, take these and clean yourself off before you ruin my seat covers. She handed him several wet wipes and he used them on himself. But he had drips of ice cream all over him, on his chest, his thighs his feet, even on and under his bikini, where drips from his belly had run down. He did the best he could do. He just wanted to get into the car and out of public view. After all, he was wearing nothing but the string thing, not even shoes. She had forced him to give away all his clothes to teenagers. She was still not satisfied. “Here, use these too,” and she handed him several more wet wipes, and this time he felt like he had managed to get it all off his skin. He even wiped the bikini front, making a large wet spot - well, as large as a three-inch triangular piece of material could have.

“Please miss, please? May I get in now?” Robbie started to reach for the passenger door handle.

“No, look at that bikini; it's not only wet, but I'm sure it is all sticky. Just take it off.”

Robbie looked like a deer caught in the headlights. He knew he could not disobey. She had already threatened to leave him there, and make him take the bus home. He didn’t know whether she was serious or not, so he looked one way, then the other, visually scouring the parking garage for any people coming his way. There were people around, but none close. He could quickly strip and hop in the car. Yes, he could do that and end this nightmare. He quickly slipped off that fucking silly, obscene bikini and, without knowing what else to do, offered it to Rachel. After all, she had bought it.

“No dear, they are a mess. Just walk over to that trash can, by the entrance and put them in there. Make sure you walk. I don't want you to slip on this smooth concrete floor with your bare feet.” she smiled.

He walked rather quickly, trying to cover up his crotch in his hurry walk mode. And she could see him drop in the bikini. A couple of teen girls were there and they gawked and giggled in disbelief. He actually acknowledged them with a nod then quickly made his way back to the car. Rachel was so proud of Robbie. But she could never tell him that. He could never know how pleased she, or Matt, was with him. Robbie, now standing fully naked just outside the car door, waited.

“Robbie, I wish you would just fucking obey me. No hesitation. Just do what I want. Well, you did OK, but the next trip here, I want you to strip naked in the public mall and yell out 'I'M A PERVERT!' and then beat off. I think that would be so entertaining.” Did she really mean that? Wouldn’t he get arrested? How could she do that to her son? Or … maybe she could do that to her slave! Robbie had a lot to think about, his dick never soft. “OK, come on and get inside before you get me arrested,” she said in a complaining tone. No one had to tell Robbie twice. He hopped in immediately, finally safe! He was naked as the day he was born, sitting there in the back seat, with his dick bobbing and nodding, waiting for Rachel to put the car in gear and take off home.

Dear Sweet Robbie
Part 5 of 5 or ... [full_story_link]http://www.gayties.com/page/kinksville/robbie_4/[/full_story_link]

But instead of starting the car, she pushed a button and a familiar motor sound started. The convertible top was retracting back. When the top was fully down she adjusted the mirrors and started up and pulled out of her space. She slowly drove to the garage exit and got in a short line to pay for parking. Robbie crouched down as she approached. “Oh Robbie, don't be such a baby. Straighten up properly. Play with your dick - it’s big enough - you might as well enjoy it. And don't stop pumping it until I tell you to.” Then a brief pause, “or, I'll put you on the bus.” Immediately Robbie grabbed his dick and rubbed it up and down, nonstop.

As it came her turn to pull up to the window, she greeted the teenage attendant there with a big smile. His name tag said “Toby.”

“Hi, Toby, what's the fee for today?” as if she did not already know. Toby stared at the well-toned, naked teen in the back, playing with his dick. Toby was motionless with is mouth open.

Then, “Why is he naked, ma’am? … And … and … you know...?”

“Oh, my dear sweet Robbie and I were here to shop for clothes, but he did not like them. He said he'd rather be naked. And he actually stripped naked as we walked back to the car.” Toby was in shock, trying to think of what to say.

“But how come he is … you know … with his thing?” Toby asked hesitantly.

“Oh, well he …” she stopped and looked at Robbie pumping his dick, “Robbie, why don't you explain why you are doing that? Robbie was puzzled. “Don't be shy, dear. You were telling me you noticed Toby before, and you thought he was hot looking. Go ahead, explain yourself.”

“I … I … I saw you and thought you … you … were hot and I got hard … and I find you so sexy … and … and ...”

“Oh Robbie, stop messing around and just tell him what you said to me a few minutes ago …That you wanted to ask him out on a date? Remember?” And what you wanted to do to him?” Toby’s face turned beet red, and could not believe what she was saying.

“I … thought … I thought you were hot and … and … I wanted to ask you out on a date … I really just … just ... wanted you to … to …” He paused and Rachel just gave him a deadly look to signal that he needed to obey her wishes, anywhere she led him. “To have you fuck me … I mean ... my ass … I mean my asshole. And I would beg you to ... to let me suck your ... your ... your dick ...”

Toby pressed the button to lift the motorized gate arm in a daze, not even bothering to ask for the parking fee. He was too weirded out. Rachel waved and pulled the car onto the street and Robbie slouched down, being naked, in the back seat, with the convertible top down. True, people walking on the sidewalk would assume he only had his shirt off. But people in other cars, especially higher SUV's and in all kinds of trucks - large ones, and even the standard pick-up trucks - would notice that he was naked if they glanced his way. Rachel was so very pleased. She was just ecstatic … inside.

But that was not enough for Rachel. The look on her face remained sober and displeased. Her “job” was to push Robbie … continually. “What did I tell you back in the garage?” Robbie had no idea to what she was referring. “I told you to play with your dick, and don't stop until I tell you.”

“But … Miss … Miss, I am … I don't have any ... I mean people will see me.” Robbie pleaded in a whisper even though no one could possibly hear him. Rachel said nothing further. She did not even look at him except to notice in a quick glance that he was once again pumping his big fat dick.

“And sit up straight! Always use good posture!” He did. She approached an intersection where the light just turned amber. She could have driven through it easily, but she slowed to let the light change to red. There was a small van that slowed and then stopped in the lane at her right. It was a VW bus and the driver in it had his window down. He was talking to his lady passenger. “HONK. HONK.” Rachel beeped the loud horn to get the guy's attention,

“Sir! Sir!” She got his attention and he looked at her as if to ask what she wanted. “Do you know how to get to Elm Avenue?” It was a street that she knew was some way away.

“Oh, Elm, yes, I do.” Then he noticed Robbie was not only naked in the back seat, but also beating his dick. Rachel, pretended to not notice him, but the van driver was shocked.

“Oh, please, sir, don't be bothered by my son. My dear sweet Robbie can't help himself sometimes. Just ignore him.” Rachel

“Okay … well. Ah … you go four or five blocks straight ahead and … then … you … ah … make a left on Main Street and then a right, two blocks after that.”

“So I go down here a few blocks until I get to Main Street, and then turn right?” She was mixing up the instructions on purpose to keep the conversation going. The lady passenger soon stuck her headway across the driver’s lap and practically pushed it out of the window, and she did not miss a thing. She smiled at Robbie.

“Don't be rude, dear. Wave hello to the nice people with your hand that is not preoccupied.” And with great embarrassment, which showed broadly across his face he waved “hi” to the woman. Rachel heard Robbie moan a couple of times with erotic humiliation, then the light changed and they all took off.

Rachel easily found her way to the freeway. She'd been to and from this town many times. They were now headed for home at a good clip. The only time she altered her speed was when she approached a slower moving truck. Those times she would slow to match its speed and pace it so that Robbie was clearly in the direct downward view of each truck driver she sidled up to. Rachel would notice each time she paced a track, Robbie would moan uncontrollably and his body was even trembling as he was forced to expose and exhibit himself to strangers. Most truck drivers honked, some howled, and a few just stared down. Robbie never stopped pumping his dick, though he did learn very quickly to barely touch it, or he would have caused himself to climax. It was clear to him that his climax was not acceptable behavior - at least not without being told.

Few words were spoken between them; none were necessary. Robbie was so relieved to return home. When Rachel pulled into their driveway and then turned off the engine, she finally told Robbie he may stop playing with his dick. They got out of the car and Robbie followed her to the door, his dick sticking right out and preceding him.

They entered the house and right away, Rachel told him, “Don’t forget the rule about no clothes for you in the house or backyard.” He wanted to go up to his room and see what his step-dad had done to it. When they had left the house that morning, he had been told that Matt was going to rearrange his bedroom to make it appropriate for his new sub lifestyle.”

He went to his room, which was down a short hall and saw that his door was open. As he entered, he realized there was no door; it had been removed. He wondered if his dad was going to put in a new door. Strange, he thought. He looked around and found most of his furniture missing. The chest of drawers that contained his socks, underwear, t-shirts, sweaters, etc., was gone. He turned around and his computer desk was gone too … and his computer. There was a small hanging cabinet, with a couple of exposed shelves that used to be just to the right of the desk. That was gone as well. He used those small shelves to plop his key, wallet, and cell phone on, anytime he came home. But … now missing were his keys, wallet, cell phone, and whatever other personal pocket items he kept there. His high school ring, loose change, and the key to the family mailbox … even his good luck charm and some mints for bad breath were all gone.

At least his bed was still there, but it only had a bare mattress with no sheet or blankets on it. He saw he still had a pillow. Thank god for small favors, he thought. In place of his desk and the other furniture that had been removed, there was a simple folding card table and one folding chair. Those two pieces of furniture were all he had in his room. Next to the bed used to be tall bookcase that had held his many school books, as well as other books and magazines, but the entire case was missing. His mouth stayed open in awe as he turned further around, and found that his private bathroom, which adjoined his bedroom, had also had the door removed. He could see inside that the shower curtain was also gone. Something about the word “curtain” caused him to turn back and look at his windows. He had two large windows in his room which looked out to the front of the house. There were no longer any curtains or pull down-shades, or anything, to block the view of anyone looking into his room.

A horrid thought washed over him - his car, his precious car - was that gone too? It was not in the driveway, so he looked out of the window and up and down the street, Just then, Matt and Rachel came into his room and saw their naked (adopted) son looking out the window. “AT EASE, boy,” Robbie responded as told, to the command with feet a normal shoulders’ width apart, standing tall, placing his hands at the side of his body with all ten fingertips pressed against his outer thighs, and looking forward. “That’s right, boy.” He had the most contorted face. He eyes were scrunched up and he seemed ready to explode with questions. “Boy, I know you have a lot to ask. This is a huge change for you and you need to understand what is going on here. So, until we change the rule, you are free to speak to ask questions.”

“Mom, dad … I mean … Mistress and Sir,” Robbie almost exploded, “My car? Where is my car? I don’t see it anywhere. I …”

“Oh, that. Yes, let’s take care of that little formality right now, just to get it out of the way.” Matt was holding an envelope and pulled a form out of it. Robbie noticed it as the pink slip to his car. “Here, come over to your new card table, and sign this.” Robbie was confused. “You are giving your car to Jimar. Your brother’s car has been having a lot of problems and you don’t need one anymore, so … sign here.” Matt pointed to the line on which Robbie had to sign. In a daze, he signed his name. “I’m sure, if you treat your brother well, he will be glad to drive you to places at times. But it is up to him, so be very nice to him. As for going to and from school, we will worry about that in a couple of months when your summer vacation ends. If we allow you to go, we’ll likely just have you take the bus. But school is not a pressing issue right now.

“But what about my laptop? I need it for emails and the Internet, even if it’s summer vacation.” Robbie respectfully argued.

“Actually, you don’t,” Matt told him. Robbie's life was becoming less and less … ah … human.

“Nor do you need a wallet or a cell phone or any of a normal person’s personal items. Your life just got so much easier.” Matt told him. Robbie slumped in his naked stance and was in shock. “My car?” he whined to himself. It would take a while, several days to fully realize just how meager and limited his lifestyle had just become.

Jimar came bounding into Robbie’s room with a big smile on his face. “Hi Mom, Dad, I just got back from doing a little shopping. And, wow, does my new car drive great! Did you tell our boy that I now have his car?” He was all a giggle. Finally, he was the boss of his adopted white slave brother who had treated him so mean in the past.

“Yes, Jimar, he just signed it over to you. Here you go, honey.” And Matt handed him the pink slip.

Robbie interrupted his brother; he was not normally rude to him, but … his car? “He got my car?” He said to himself. That was a little too much to take. He yielded to a burst of anger, “Jimar! Out of my room! Now!”

“Hold on boy. Whoa, calm down!” Matt said strongly, “In the first place, this is no longer your room …”

“It’s just the place where we let you sleep. You’ve noticed there are no doors, that’s because anyone can come in here anytime they want.” Matt was not yelling. He knew this transition would be difficult for Robbie, so he talked firmly, but unemotionally, and in a low tone.

“Now, to help you out, I am going to give you some quiet time. But first, do you need to use the toilet to piss or shit?” Robbie said yes both. “That’s fine, just hurry it up.” Robbie did not know what he meant; he was waiting for them all to leave. “Go now, we don’t have all day,” Matt said a little louder. Robbie went into the bathroom and sat on the toilet. He was so embarrassed trying to take a shit with his family in the other room and no door on the bathroom; he just sat there in a state of humiliation for a while, looking at them.

Then Matt said, talking to his wife, “Honey, come here a minute, let me get your opinion.” And then Matt and Rachel and … Jimar all walked into Robbie’s small bathroom. It was a tight fit, especially with naked Robbie on the toilet, but Matt wanted to ask Rachael what other changes should be made in there. “You see, the shower curtain is down, but I’ve left the rod up, thinking we might want to use it for bondage for the boy, but on the other hand, it is not very strong, so I was thinking…”

All of a sudden, Robbie unintentionally let out a few loud trumpeted farts in the process of taking a dump. Robbie covered his face with the palms of his hands and was turning red. He was shaking with nervousness and he mumbled the words “I’m so sorry, so very sorry” whining like a little boy. His mom and dad were one foot from him on one side, and his brother was on the other side with his shins actually touching Robbie's thigh as he sat there. Then Robbie released a few more turds and everyone heard the “plunk, plunk, plunk” of the turds dropping into the toilet water. Then he released another long, higher- pitched fart. Everyone broke out in laughter.

Rachel giggled, “That gives me an idea, before our next party let’s feed him a big bowl of chili so we won’t have to hire a band!” They all laughed. Robbie teared up and could not remove his hands from covering his handsome face. He was just too humiliated to look up from his seated position on the toilet.

Robbie said he was finished. He thought his family would then leave to give him some privacy. His dad, still thinking about replacing the curtain rod, mumbled, “That’s nice.” And then he asked Rachel if they should put up a crossbar for better support for when they have to tie him to it.

Robbie waited for them to leave, but obviously, they did not. He reached out for some toilet paper to wipe his butt, but the roll of paper was gone. In fact, the little indentation in the wall where it was, was plastered over, though not yet painted. Now there was no holder for his toilet paper. Again, he was shocked and confused. He was trying to ask the question about needing toilet paper. But all his said, very sheepishly was, “Ah, dad … I mean Matt, sir, I don’t see any toilet paper. Don’t I get any to …”

“Of course you do boy, of course. Do you think we are all stupid? Just ask for some whenever you need it. And, of course, you never flush until one of us makes a note of your … ah … ‘deposit.’”

“But sir, I need some now.” Robbie gently whispered.

“Rachel and I are busy, so just ask your brother.” Matt said, and then added, “All this delay in getting toilet paper from one of us could have been avoided if you simply showed more respect to Jimar. It's quite obvious, that in this difficult transition period, you will need a lot more supervision. So, here is the new rule on your toilet etiquette. In order for you to take a dump, you are going to need a monitor to watch you; it’s for your own good. What if you are having a difficult bowel movement or a loose stool, or were farting too much. How are we going to know? All YOUR toilet paper is now in the hall pantry, a cupboard you are no longer to open. When you need to take a dump, you will need to ask someone to supervise you. That person will also be the one to obtain the toilet paper and the one who will dictate how many squares you will get. All of this will be written down in your new toilet log, your “Book of Deposits.”

“Actually, this brings up another point, so I might as well as explain it now. For example, say we are having Aunt Judy and your little cousin Eddie over for dinner and we are all seated at the table enjoying our meal. Of course, you would be on the floor with your dog dish, waiting for someone to give you their scraps. But I’ll explain that part later. But during dinner, or any other occasion when we have company over, you are to speak up, loudly and announce when you need to take a dump. It will be one of the few times you are allowed to speak on your own. Then you will ask, 'Will someone here take me to the bathroom and supervise me taking a dump?' You will always ask our guests first since we want to show them how well we have trained you. But if they prefer not to, then you will ask one of us.” Robbie was shaking in fear. He was naked on the toilet; his mom and dad and now controlling-brother were all standing within a foot of him, giggling at him for farting and stinking up the room and now was being told someone had to chaperone him each time he took a shit. And he had to beg for toilet paper, and they had to record everything! His dick was getting bigger and bigger the more they humiliated him. It was now pointing to the ceiling and bobbing.

“After your dump, you will stand up and show whoever is supervising you what you deposited in the toilet. After that, and not before, you may ask that supervisor for whatever squares of toilet paper they choose to give you. We will start you out at 6 squares of toilet paper, and see how that works. He, or she, will then go to the hall pantry and fetch them and bring them to you. You will use it to wipe yourself, and then present your wiped ass to the supervisor. That person will make a determination as to how well you did, and if you need another square or two.” Robbie listened to his dad telling him his new bathroom procedures, and that he always needed someone to watch him. Could anything, ANYTHING, be more humiliating for a mature, muscular, 18-year-old? Robbie wallowed in frustration. All these procedures? Just to take a dump? Then he heard Matt say that there was one more step.

“After you are all finished in the bathroom, you will show your supervisor your ‘Book of Deposits.’ You are not allowed to write in it yourself, so you will ask the person with you to record the day and time of your dump, and you will describe the number of turds, the size, the thickness and the color which the supervisor will make note of. Then you will tell him or her, how many farts you released in the process, and lastly, how many squares of toilet paper did you use? We want to try to reduce the squares you use so as not to waste paper on you. Then you will thank that supervisor for his or her assistance. If it happens to be a young person … say, under the age of 12, do not use words like ‘shit’ with that child. Use words such as … ah … ‘poo-poos’ or ‘poopies.’”

“Since this is summer, and we may all be in the backyard playing a game or sipping ice tea with friends, no one will want to take you all the way in the house. So you would go and fetch your ‘Book of Deposits,’ and bring it out where we are. Then you will ask, starting with any guest we may have over, to supervise you taking a dump on the lawn.” Matt paused, noticing that as Robbie squirmed on the toilet seat, his hard dick was leaking precum. Robbie was not even thinking about erections; they were the furthest thing from his mind. He was too dizzy thinking of how embarrassing it all just became for him to take a dump. As tears seeped down his face, he never noticed that his dick was slowly bobbing and dribbling. Rachel and Matt were so pleased. They gave each other glances and nods of tacit approval at just how far Robbie had come, just today. And how much they would be able to lead him, unwittingly, down into the depths of submission and degradation.

“Mr. Jimar? Sir? … Plea ... plea … please, may I have six squares of … of … toilet paper, sir?” He could not look up at his brother as he pleaded.

“Of course Robbie,” he said feigning care. “I know what you are going through.” He stooped down to be eye level with his naked former brother, now his slave toy, seated on the toilet. He put his arm around him and lightly patted his back as a contrived expression of kindness. Robbie actually thought, just for a moment, that Jimar was going to be nice to him and he looked up at him with a tear-stained face and smiled. Jimar then brought his mouth to his ear and whispered. “Sure, I’ll get you the six squares, but first you have to make another big fart, and then announce loudly how much you love smelling your own farts. But, you’d better sound and act convincing or I will leave you here, my white stud bro.” Rachel noticed the whispering but did not care about what she said to him.

Robbie had no choice, he had to do as Jimar told him or he would never leave the bathroom. He scrunched his face and twisted his body, paused in an awkward position, and … released a loud fart. “Wow! I am so happy when I fart. God, I love the smell of my own stinky farts! I love to breathe them in deeply, what a wonderful stink I make!”

Rachel now knew what Jimar whispered about, and she was so proud of her now sole son. “Honey, that was very clever of you. We are both so proud. We can leave you in charge of … “your boy” … anytime. In fact, your dad and I were thinking it’s probably about time, now that you are eighteen, to take you along to our next dungeon session in the S and M group in Hardington.” Jimar’s face lit up with excitement. His parents had told him of their lifestyle two years ago, with which he had had no problem. Until now, he had never been invited to go with them to their monthly leather-kink club sessions. “Oh yes, and we will have to dress you up in full leather with motorcycle boots and all. Oh, Robbie will just love worshiping your boots ... would he ever! And everyone around will be taking photos and video of your new found submissiveness. Wouldn't that be grand? We’ll be like a big happy family there ... well … maybe you won't be too happy, Robbie, but it will be so much fun for the rest of us.” Rachel and Jimar laughed their heads off as they left the room.

The End

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