The Balloon Test

 Another boring lecture!  Why did the company keep sending me on these.  It wasn't as if I didn't know everything already.  Not like the stupid girls on the course.  I mean they had to have more training, but it was really a waste of time for me.

Of course I was the only boy on the course.  When the boss, her of the smart suits and the permafrost hair, had decided that I should spend time as a 'business support executive' in order to learn the ropes of the business, of course I had agreed.  I hadn't realised it was a fancy name for a secretary.  Still, it was only for six months, even if I did get sent on these basic skills courses.

So that's why I was the only boy on the course.  Still it have me a chance to show off my credentials.  To make sure everyone would remember me in the future.  That's what I said when we had to introduce ourselves at the beginning.

"I'm here to show off my credentials," I said.  Everyone laughed, a sort of sniggery laugh, I've no idea why.

Anyway here we were at the end of the course run by some sort of secretary motivating guru woman.  God knows what stupid waffle she was going on about.  I kept having to put her right about everything.

The last lecture was on building confidence to be an effective speaker.  It was led by Monika Finch, described in the hand~out as a 'motivational speaker'.  What rubbish.  There she was in her power dressing grey suit and her black hair done up in a bun.  What rubbish!

"I'm already a confident effective speaker!  And what's more, I know everything there is to know about it," I told her, "can I skip this lecture?"

That took her back, I'm telling you!

"In that case you'll know about The Balloon Test?" she asked after a short pause.

"Well..."  What bit of modern gibberish theory was she going on about now?

"You do know what the Balloon Test is?"

"Of course," well seeing as I'd said I knew everything about it, I wasn't going to admit to never having heard of it.

"What's the Balloon Test?" Asked busty blonde teacher's pet Tracey at the front of the class.  Tracey was one of those girls, you know the sort, the ones who've got no brains but get on by sticking out their tits and flashing their knickers.  She was wearing pink ones.  Well...  She'd been sitting opposite me at lunch and she was wearing a very short skirt.  I'd given her the benefit of my opinion on a few subjects and I could tell she was impressed.  I'd complimented her on her figure and her choice of underwear.  Girls like that sort of thing you know.  And I impressed her with my knowledge (Wikipedia can be so useful when impressing girls).  Of course I'm a great thinker, I told her, it's because I exercise it so much.  I suggested she might help me exercise it but I just got a rude response.  Empty headed, no interest in thinking at all.  And now she was asking stupid questions.  Still, I could tell she was impressed, but we were called back to the lecture that point.  Still later...

She was obviously impressed that I knew about the Balloon Test as well, I was making a good impression there I could tell.

Monica had to try and spoil things though.

"Well, you explain it," she sneered at me.

I'd just have to wing it, as the saying goes.  But how without showing myself up?

"The Balloon Test is..." I started, "but...  if you explain to the girls, I'm sure you can do it better than me, and then I'll do the test and show them how it demonstrates confident and effective presentation."

"But the Balloon Test is purely hypothetical."

"It may be for you," I said, sure I could do a hypothetical test, once I found out what 'hypothetical' meant, "but I have the confidence to do it."

"But...  Well...  I don't know.  It's not really the sort of thing we do in practice."

"Well it may not be for you, but it's no problem for me," I said.  That would impress Tracey.

"In that case, I'm not sure, but suppose it would be interesting to see how it worked in practice.  If the girls don't object."

"What could we object to?" asked Tracey.

"Well you see," said Monica, "in the Balloon Test..."

I allowed myself a little smirk at my cunning, I'd got Monica to describe the Balloon Test for me, all I'd have to do now was give one of my well honed presentations and win the balloon, or whatever the test was about.

"In the Balloon Test, as described by Zinowski and Smith, the participant has to give the presentation wearing...  Go on you explain," she said, looking at me, "if you're going to be doing it.  You do know what it's about and don't want to back out seeing as it's hypothetical."

"No, no," I had to think quickly, she wasn't going to put me off using those big words, "you're explaining it so well.  I'm certainly not going to back out.  I'm just working out what I'm going to say in the presentation."

"As I was saying.  The participant gives the presentation wearing nothing except an inflated balloon..."  There was a gasp from the audience.  Monica looked at me, "...that's right isn't it.  You are allowed to inflate the balloon?"

"Well...  er...  Yes," what else could I say.  I'd agreed over and over that I knew what the test was, "an inflated balloon, and wearing...."

Perhaps she hadn't meant with absolutely nothing on.

"Nothing, yes that's right girls.  The subject is completely nude apart from the balloon which she, or in this particular case he, can use to hide..  Well whatever he likes really.  But the really embarrassing part is...  Well you explain..."  She looked at me again.

"The embarrassing part is..." I gulped, what could be more embarrassing than giving a presentation with no clothes on, "...is...."

"Well he's obviously thinking hard about it.  The embarrassing part is that the presentation that he has to give is a description of the part hidden by the balloon.  So he can display a rude bit and describe a not so rude bit, or if he hides his naughty bits he has to describe them, and what they're for.  Isn't that right?"

She turned to me.

"Er..  Yes..," I said, "but I er..."

"Yes?"

"Perhaps the girls will think it's a little..."

"A little what?.

"A little er...  Embarrassing for them...  Not that I'm backing out or anything but..."

"Well, we can always ask them.  Any girls object to being given a demonstration of the balloon test?"

Shouts of "No!" and "Get on with it" echoed round the room.

"That seems pretty conclusive," said Monica.

"But..." I said.

"But what?"

"We haven't got a balloon," that stumped her.  She thought she'd been so clever, but superior intellect always wins out.

"I've got one," shouted Tracey.  She was already blowing it up.

******************

I'd made The Balloon Test up myself of course.  It was a great way of deflating know-it-alls who keep interrupting and spoiling things for everyone.  They never admit to not knowing what it is.  Of course I give them the get out of saying that it's purely hypothetical.  Then they back down and shut up.  If they don't and I really want to tease them I give them the balloon and tell them to get undressed.  Once they start of course I stop them, well it wouldn't be fair not to, would it.

I knew I'd have trouble with that know-it-all in the lecture, so I'd primed Tracey with the questions and given her the balloon.  She knew what was going to happen and was looking forwards to the joke and having a good laugh.  They nearly always back down when I hand them the ballon, but I was really rather pleased when he turned out to be one of those people who'll never admit that they don't know something.  No matter what the embarrassment I just knew he'd end up with just the balloon if I let him.  Not that I would of course.  Still, there was still the opportunity to tease him just a little bit further.

"Excellent," I said, showing him the balloon, "take your clothes off."

****************

She handed me the balloon and told me to take my clothes off.  I'd have to admit I didn't know what the test was, that I didn't really know what 'hypothetical' meant.  I opened my mouth to speak, but I couldn't.  Anything was better than admitting my ignorance, but taking all my clothes off, I couldn't do that. Could I?  Then it dawned on me.  It does when you have a superior intellect like mine.  What had I been thinking of.  Of course I wouldn't have to go through with it.  She couldn't allow a thing like that in her lecture.  Once I started to undress she'd put a stop to it.

"Of course," I said, taking the balloon and giving one of my confident smiles, "I'll show the girls exactly what I'm made of."

They all giggled for some reason.

I started to remove my shoes and socks.  She'd be stopping me now for sure.  No?  Well I took off my shirt and looked at her.  Nothing.  Oh well.  I'd show her I was no indecisive wimp.

"Shall I take off my trousers?" I asked

I waited for her to say no, and of course she started...

"As I said, this test is purely hypothetical, and though I'm sure...."

There was a sudden ringing noise.  "...sorry.  That's my phone.  I'd better answer it..."  she picked up her phone, "...yes, yes.  Right away.  Of course..."

She looked at Tracey, "Sorry," she said, "something's cropped up.  I have to dash.  I'll be back soon.  Tracey, here's the balloon, you take over.  You know what to do."

So Tracey knew what to do!  She'd been in on it all along.  No wonder she'd come prepared with a balloon.  She looked at me with a big grin on her face.

"Come on," she said, "you know the rules of the Balloon Test.  We're all waiting."

What could I do?  I couldn't admit that I didn't know the rules after I'd so clearly said I did.  She had me cornered and there was nothing I could do about it.  I took off my trousers and stood there in my underpants.

******************

Bloody Site Security.  I mean I always park my car in that spot.  It's not as if it was obstructing anything.  But apparently they were going to tow it away.  If I didn't get there pretty quickly that is.  That's what the bloke on the phone said anyway.  The Security Guard that is.  It took me close on an hour of me arguing with them and driving round and round before I could find a suitable place to park.  Still, Tracey knew what to do to stop him going any further.  And then they could take a break for coffee.  That's what I thought anyway.  But when I got back to the room...

************

Tracey Smith, I said to myself, you're really mean.  But on the other hand, he deserved it, and he was going to get it.

He'd spent all lunch time peering up my skirt trying to get a glimpse of my knickers, while all the while spouting off about how clever he was.  He must of got a glimpse of them as well because he said he liked girls with big tits who wore pink knickers.  Then he started hinting in an obvious way that he had a big cock.  'I've a great twinker' he said.  'It's so big because I exercise it'.  I mean, why do men like to boast about their cocks!  As if we're interested!  Then he even suggested I might like to exercise it.  'In your dreams' I said.  As if!  Men like that deserve all they get.  And I knew what he was going to get as soon as Monica told me about the way she deals with know it alls.  I told her right away.  That blokes a right know it all, I said, I'll bring a balloon so be ready to bring him down a peg or two.

Of course Monica explained that she didn't actually let them do the test, just getting them to back down was the point.  But I had a better idea.  If I could just get Monica out of the way, then I'd get him backed into a corner which he'd never escape from with his clothes on.  All I had to do was stick out my tits for that Security bloke and he'd do anything I asked.  I texted him the signal just in time to stop Monica from ending the whole thing.

"Shall I take off my trousers?" he had asked, before Monica had left me in charge.

"Well you know the rules of the test," I said, "Come on.  We're all waiting.

So there Mr Know-it-all was.  In his panties.  I hadn't meant to go further than that.  Honest!  But he looked so embarrassed, and he'd gone so red, and the girls were enjoying themselves so much.  And after all nobody was making him do anything.  I'd just see if he'd drop his underpants as well.  I handed him the balloon.

"Go on then," I said.

**************

I had made up my mind not to go further than my underpants, but then Tracey handed me the balloon.  Well, it was a big balloon, and I couldn't think of an excuse not to take my underpants off.  And I thought if I took my underpants off nobody would see anything and I would really convince them I knew all about the test.

"Go on," said Tracey.

And I held the balloon in front of my penis and pulled my panties down.

Tracey's mouth fell open.  Well I'd obviously impressed her.  She'd believed I didn't know about the test.  That I'd meekly get dressed again.  Well I'd shown her.  I could get dressed again now that I'd impressed the girls

"We're waiting," she said.

"For what?" I asked

"You have to describe what's behind the balloon."

Oh heck!  I'd forgotten all about that.  There was nothing for it.

"It's my er...  My er..." I stammered, I had no clothes on, I was trembling with embarrassment and I couldn't think what to say."

"Come on," said Tracey, "you claimed you were such a confident speaker you could give a talk with no clothes on...  And we're waiting...  What's behind the balloon?.

"It's my er..  My..."

"Your willy..." said Tracey, "yes, we all know that.  Tell us about it..."

"It's. Er...er..."

"Come on...  How big is it?  That's what we really want to know."

Oh no!  I mean I think it's a reasonable size.  I'd checked on howbigisyourpenis.com and it was bigger than the bottom tenth percentile.  So it wasn't all that small.  Still...  I didn't quite like to say...

"It's...  It's...  Er..."

"Come on, you're not getting dressed till you say."

"It's normal," I gasped at last, and the girls all burst out laughing.

"Normal," chortled Tracey, "and what is 'normal' precisely?"

"Well average is about six inches, so it's approaching that..."

"Approaching eh?  Do we believe him girls?"

A chorus of "No!" rang out.

"They don't believe you," said Tracey, "and you know what happens if you lie don't you?"

I had no idea, but I couldn't admit it.

"Of course," I said, my face burning redder than ever.

"And it's nearly six inches?.

"Yes," I said.

"Right," said Tracey, "shall we find out girls,"

A chorus of 'Yes' rang round the room and I suddenly saw Tracey had a pin in her hand.

***********

He was a lying hound, I could see from his face that he was telling porkies.  He'd claimed his willy was nearly six inches.  It was hiding just behind that inflated balloon.  We couldn't see anything now, but...  I had a nice sharp pin in my lapel, to pin on my name badge.  If I just...

*BANG*

And there he was, standing with a stupid grin on his face and holding the remains of a big red balloon.  Not covering anything now.

And it didn't look like it would be six inches.  Nothing like it in fact.

Well, you'd think that would be punishment enough for a show off knicker peeking wanker, to be made to stand stark naked in front of the class.  Red faced, trembling with embarrassment, everything on view, a group of girls laughing at him, you'd think it would be punishment enough.  But he'd lied about his willy, and he'd just have to be made to pay for that.

"That doesn't look six inches to me," I said.

**********

After she burst the balloon I just stood there, so embarrassed I couldn't move.  I had nothing on.  Nothing at all, and all the girls were laughing.  And there was nothing I could do about it.  I'd done everything voluntarily.  I'd taken all my clothes off myself.  How could I have been so stupid, I'd been taken for a sucker.  I'd been a show-off, and now I was showing everything off.  And worse was to come.

"That's not six inches," said Tracey.

She was pointing at my penis.  All the girls were looking at it.  They were all looking at my penis.

"Yes it is..." I stammered, hastily clapping my hands over it, "it's just that it's not...  It's not..."

"Not what?"

"You know..."

"No I don't....

"Yes you do..."

"Oh, you mean it's not up!"

"Well... Er..  Yes...  Can I get dressed please,  I've done everything now?"

"I don't think so.  You've claimed your willy is six inches when it's up.  You know the rules of the test.  You have to prove it now."

"I what!"

"You know perfectly well.  You know all the rules of the test,  you said so yourself.  If you make a specific claim you have to prove it."

"But..." why oh why had I claimed to know all about this test.  I knew nothing about it.  I couldn't contradict her, I was going to have to agree.  Then I thought of a way out.

"Of course," I said, cringing with my hands over my penis, stammering with embarrassment, "but unfortunately, nobody has a tape measure."

I should have just said no.  By making that silly excuse I'd effectively agreed if someone could produce a tape measure.  And of course somebody did.

"Excellent," said Tracey, "now all we have to do is...  Oh my gosh!  Well done.  You can get it up to order!"

And she was right.  With all this looking at my penis, and talking about measuring, and the embarrassment, and everything, as I took my hands away from my penis it slowly rose to full height."

"Gosh!" said Tracey, "that's the sort of man I like!  I tell him to get it up, and my word is his command!"

I don't think my face could have been any redder.

"Now where's that tape measure?"

************

When I got back to the room...  I mean I'd got my car parked and I'd dashed back...  And when I got back to the room...

He was standing in front of the girls stark naked.  The remnants of a burst balloon lay on the floor.  Tracey had a tape measure in her hand and she was measuring....  Well I don't like to say, but it was bolt upright.

"Tracey!  What on earth is..."

"Four and three-quarter inches Monica," she said, "Small, but perfectly formed.  And performs to order.  What more can you ask?"

"But..."

"He performed the test perfectly," she said.

I nodded dumbly.

"Does he get his reward?"

I nodded dumbly again.  What on earth had been going on?

"Perhaps we should ask the girls?"

I nodded dumbly again.

"What about it girls?  Does he get his reward for being a good sport?"

A chorus of 'Yes!' rang round the room.

"That's pretty conclusive," said Tracey, and she took hold of his...  As I said, it was bolt upright.

**************

Monica came back and her eyes opened wide.  She was obviously really impressed that I'd completed the test.

"He's performed the test perfectly," said Tracey, so she was obviously impressed as well, "Six and a half inches," she pronounced, "he's got a really big one!"

As I said.  Girls are impressed by a big cock!  They just can't resist it.

I think I handled that all very well.  I'd shown Monica how confident a speaker I was.

"I think he deserves a reward," said Tracey.

A reward!  I was going to get my clothes back!

"What reward?" asked Monica.

"Well, he said he wanted me to exercise his twinker.  And she grabbed hold of...  well it was bolt upright so she got a good grip...  And she was... Er... Exercising it!  Vigorously.

So...  A successful meeting for me.  I'd impressed Tracey and Monica.  She wrote in her report to the boss that I had shown the class what I was made of, and that I had performed with great power.

True, I'd been stripped naked and wanked in front of the whole class, but when all's said and done, a wank's a wank, even if everybody's watching.

Miriam

Eighteen years old, a school prefect, and there I was stuck for the evening with Miriam. Miriam, fifteen year old daughter of the MacTavishes, friends of my parents at the golf club and I had been lumbered with supposedly looking after her. Why did a fifteen year old need looking after? I had no idea. I'm sure I didn't need looking after when I was fifteen.

Anyway I had been sent to 'keep an eye' on Miriam, apparently a girl who needed an eye keeping on her, while the parents wanted to go to the Golf Club Midsummer Ball and I didn't know how to say no to my parents.

Miriam turned out to be one of those dreadful fifth formers at our school where I was a prefect. The ones who were so cheeky to me. A cheeky teenager at an age when teenagers are dreadfully cheeky. One of the girls who made me do things even though I was the prefect.  She had a ponytail, a round freckly sort of face, a snub nose and was pneumatic in a puppy fat sort of teenage girl way.

She spent the first hour complaining that she hadn't been allowed to invite a friend round. Of course I wasn't going to allow her to have her friend round. another cheeky teenage girl. They'd have made mincemeat of me, and in any case I'd been expressly forbidden to allow her to bring her friends round.

"Then you can make some coffee."

She really was a bossy little madam. Expecting me to make coffee. I was a boy. I was older. She should have been making it for me.

"I thought that...," I didn't get any further.

"You thought what?"

"That you..."

"Oh! You thought I should make it did you. You're a sexist pig are you?.

"No, it's just that..."

"It's just that you're going to make the coffee.. Aren't you?"

"Well, if you say so but..."

"Good, I do say so, well go on then. I'm waiting."

"Yes but....

"I'm waiting," she stood with her hands on her hips. I was completely cowed by nothing more than her superior force of character. I was blushing red and stuttering. I knew I was going to have to do it. I had tried to exert my authority and failed. Miriam was the natural boss. She knew it me I knew it.

"Yes Miriam," I stammered."

"Go on then."

"Yes Miriam."

I crept out and put the kettle on. I made two cups of instant coffee and brought them back in.

"Who said you could have one?"

"Well. I thought..."

"And you can think again, take that cup away..."

I knew this was the tipping point. It was the point where I should at last make a stand. I had given in to the extent that I had made the coffee. I couldn't just let her boss me about like that.

"But...," I tried to think of something to say, but I couldn't.

"But what?"

"Yes Miriam," I did as I was told. All resistance broken. Why had I let this girl dominate me like this. The answer was simple. She was bossy and I was naturally submissive. She had known she could boss me as soon as she saw me. And this was her chance.

I went to sit down on an armchair.

"Who said you could sit down..." I stopped as Miriam glared at me.

"Well I..."

"Well you what?"

Miriam fixed her teenage girls eyes on me.

"I..."

"Sit down if you dare."

"I....

"You don't dare sit down do you. Because you know you've been told not to."

I tried to force myself to sit down, but my mind was in a turmoil. What would happen if I sat down? I didn't know. I didn't dare. I stayed on my feet.

"There's a good boy. Now you do as you're told and take your shoes and socks off."

"What!"

"You heard me. Now be a good boy and do as you're told or you know what will happen."

She had me under her thumb. She had me obedient. Somehow I knew what would happen if I didn't take my shoes and socks off. She'd tell my parents what the girls at school had made me do.  She didn't say it, but I knew.  I took them off.

"Good. Boy. Now take your shirt off. You know you're going to have to, so you may as well get it over with. I'm waiting..."

Why did I do it? Why in earth did I do it? It was just that she had established such a dominance over me that I just had to do as she said.

"Yes Miriam."

With shaking hands I unfastened my shirt, took it off and let it fall to the floor.  She stood looking at me hands on hips and grinned.

"Go on then, you know what to do.”

She couldn’t... she couldn’t mean..

‘Yes.  Drop them.  I’m waiting.”

"But...' I couldn't bring myself to do it. A shirt was one thing. But not...”

"I want you in your undies and I don't want to have to ask twice.

I tried to resist. I really did. But you can't resist a teenage girl when she is standing with her hands on her hips and giving you orders. You just can't.

"Yes Miriam," I said weakly, and I unfastened my trousers and took them off.

“Yes Miss!”

“Yes Miss.”

I stood there in my underpants with my knees shaking and my face burning. Why was I doing this! She'd done it to humiliate me. I knew it. Why couldn't I stand up to her!

************

He just stood there in his silly tight panties looking like a frightened rabbit. I'd thought I'd try to get him as soon as I heard he was coming to 'keep an eye' on me.

School prefect! He was such a wimp we teased him unmercifully at school, when we cornered him in the girls' cloakroom and pulled his pants down, well we hadn't shown him any mercy then I wasn't about to show him any mercy now. I knew I'd be able to bully him into doing anything I liked, and here I had him stripped down to his underpants. Surely I couldn't make him take those off could I? He wouldn't. Would he? It was always worth a try.

"You know what to do," I said, "I want to see your willy."

********

My face went redder than ever. I couldn't pull my underpants down. I couldn't, but at the same time I knew I couldn't resist. Once your in your undies you can't resist. She'd known that.

"Yes Miriam," and I did it. I actually did it. I pulled my underpants down and let them drop round my ankles. She could see my willy. I saw her mouth drop open immediately.

********

Tommy Woodcock had shown me his willy once. At school that is. Tommy Woodcock liked showing the girls his willy. That is until we... Well let's say Tommy Woodcock isn't waving his willy at girls any more.

After that me and Mel had sneaked into the boys changing room and hid in the cupboard. We could see all the willies, so you see I knew all about boys willies.

But I'd never seen one like that.

**********

You see I had a slim slight figure. Always the late developer and always the youngest looking boy in the class. Mine had been the last cock in the class to start to develop, not until I was nearly seventeen had it started to grow. But boys who started growing early stopped early, and mine had just kept on growing. It wasn't just big. It was very big.

"Oh my God! That's twice as big as Tommy Woodcock's!"

"Tommy Woodcock," I said stupidly, "is this what you did to Tommy Woodcock."

"This," she said, 'is nothing to what we did to Tommy Woodcock. My friend has got to see this. She's just got to see this," she surveyed my naked body from head to toe as I cowered in front of her, "I'm going to invite my friend round," she picked up the phone.

"You can't do that," I whimpered horrified, I couldn't do more than whimper. I had nothing on. And when you have nothing on you tend to whimper.

"Why ever not?"

"Because, because...," I screwed up all my courage, "because I'll tell yoir parents on you."

"Tell them what exactly?"

"That you made me take all my clothes off."

When you're completely nude resistance becomes difficult. You're embarrassed, you're vulnerable, you're submissive and Miriam seemed to sense this.

"Oh yes. They're going to believe I made you take your clothes off are they. And what if I tell them you took all your clothes off yourself and showed me your willy. Who are they going to believe?"

They would of course have believed me. Under normal circumstances I would have known this, but I was standing there nude, knock-kneed, trembling; and she was standing with her hands on her hips the picture of confidence and in complete control. Miriam had bossed me. Miriam had stripped me. Miriam was boss. I was going to have to do as she said.

"Who are they going to believe?" she repeated.

"You," I said.

"That's right. So I can have my friend round?"

"Yes."

"Good."

"Can I have my clothes back please."

"What do you mean. The whole point is for my friend to see you in the nude. Anyway, I need to keep you under my thumb."

"Yes Miriam," I was under her thumb, how can you be otherwise when you've been made to strip naked.

She made me go and stand in the hallway while she telephoned her friend.

"She'll be round in ten minutes."

"Then can I have my clothes back."

"We'll see. Not yet though. Come through here," she led me through to the living room, "now stand on here."

She pointed to a small table and I was so much under her thumb that did as I was told. I just stood on the table completely nude while the doorbell rang.

Her friend had arrived. She was going to come in. She was going to see me nude. I knew I should do something. I should run, I should try and hide, I should assert my authority, I should do something, anything rather than just stand there and let myself be humiliated in front of her friend.

But I couldn't. Such was her domination, the domination of a clothed girl over a nude boy, that I just stood there naked and awaited my fate.

I was a school prefect. She was a fifth former, but I'd let her strip me and dominate me, now I was going to have to pay.

I just stood there completely nude as her friend came into the room. Oh my God. No! Her friend was Melissa Cockburn. By far and away the naughtiest girl in the class and the one I had reported to the head for using a word fifth form girls shouldn't use.

She was also the sexiest girl in the class.

"Well, aren't you going to say hello to my friend?"

"Er...," I had to do something. I just had to do something. I couldn't let myself just be bullied like this, "...er. Hello," I said.

"Well, that's not very polite," said Miriam, "this is Melissa. Say 'Hello Miss Melissa."

I just stood there trying to cover my privates with my hands, it was hopeless, I was completely in the nude. I'd let Miriam strip me naked and now I was paying the price. Sexy Melissa could see me in the nude and there was nothing I could do about it.

"Hello Miss Melissa."

Why was I letting myself be humiliated like that? There was no physical reason, I was doing it just because of the power of the bossy personality over the submissive one, the power of the clothed person over the nude.

There is something about cheeky teenage girls. They like to be in charge, to boss people about. And there is something about bossy girls, once they have you under their heel they like to dig it in. I could see the look on Miriam's face. Ritual humiliation was her object.

So there I was, on naked display, and Miriam was getting out bottles of beer. Beer! The teenage girls were drinking beer. I should have been stopping them. I shouldn't have been standing in the middle of the room in the nude. But of course the reason why I wasn't stopping her was because I was standing in the middle if the room in the nude.

Miriam drank her beer in one gulp and poured herself another.

"Here was the boy who was sent to keep an eye on me," she said, "he wouldn't let me invite you round. He thought he was in charge, so I thought I'd better show him otherwise. As you can see I was successful," she paused for a second, "He was stupid enough to let me make him strip naked, after that it was easy. He now knows who is boss. Don't you."

"Yes... Er... Miss Miriam" I replied.

"You see," she said, explaining as if to an idiot, "when you have somebody naked they are completely exposed and completely vulnerable. Everybody can see every bit of them, they are totally cowed. They can't fight back. They're under your thumb. Are you under my thumb?"

"Yes Miss Miriam."

"Then show Melissa your willy."

"What!"

"You heard me. Let Melissa see your willy."

I showed her my willy. What else could I do? I looked from Miriam to Melissa. Melissa had an evil grin on her face.

"Wow, that's impressive. I say. You're not going make him do a Tommy Woodcock are you?.

*********
Tommy Woodcock had begged. He had pleaded, but that only made us all the more determined. Still, it's nice to have somebody begging isn't it, especially when they've go no clothes on.

********

Tommy Woodcock! What had they done to Tommy Woodcock? Oh my God! What had they done to Tommy Woodcock!

"Well he's going to put his hands out in front of him," said Miriam. My hands were back protecting my privates. What was a Tommy Woodcock. I was scared of being made to do a Tommy Woodcock, but Miriam had said if I just put my hands out in front of me.

I kept my private parts covered.

"Hands out!" said Miriam in her most assertive voice, hands on hips. It was no good. I couldn't stand up to her. I did as she said.

She walked up to me and took a length of cord out of her pocket. I knew I should resist, but with no clothes on I found it impossible to resist. I let her tie my wrists until they were securely tied together. And what was worse, they were attached to a cord held securely in Miriam's hand.

"Come with me," said Miriam, tugging on the cord so that it dug into my wrists. Melissa went in front of her and opened the front door. The front door!

"No!" I cried, "please no. Not outside Miss. Please don't pull me outside with no clothes on Miss."

"Come on," repeated Melissa.

"But you said you wouldn't do a Tommy Woodcock if I put my hands out Miss."

"Tommy Woodcock begged," she said.

"Begged Miss?"

"Yes, Tommy Woodcock begged."

"I'm begging Miss, please I'm begging."

"Well do it properly then. Go down on your hands and knees no kiss my feet."

"Yes Miss. Please Miss," I'd do anything not to be pulled outside. Miriam was quite capable of doing it. I knew that. My only hope was to beg. I knelt down and kissed her feet.

"Lick them. Go on. Get that tongue working."

"Yes Miss."

"Oh give him a kick up the backside Melissa," said Miriam. I had been so intent on licking Miriam's feet that I hadn't noticed that Melissa had sneaked round behind me. With my bottom in the air Melissa's well booted foot caught me square in the balls, dangling free and unprotected, from behind.

I sprawled forwards, all chance of resistance was lost, and the next thing I knew I was being pulled running through the front door and out into the street. It was early summer and still light, and Miriam had me running naked down the street in full view of everyone. You'd think people would say something, or do something, but they didn't. They gawped and they muttered and I ran past my willy gyrating like a windmill. Round the roundabout and all the way back up and there, horror of horrors was Mrs MacTavish, back early from the ball, standing hands on hips staring at the sight approaching her.

Miriam didn't falter for a second, she was a girl who knew her own mind, and she wasn't going to be put off by a little thing like her mother watching. She ran straight past them and paraded me right down to the other end of the street and back.

Mrs MacTavish did not look happy.

"I told you after Tommy Woodcock," she said to Miriam.

"Yes Mother."

"I told you what the consequences would be."

"Yes Mother."

Miriam led the way into the house. I looked round for Melissa, she was hiding in next door"s garden. Mrs MacTavish spotted her.

"Come here young lady."

"Yes Mrs MacTavish."

Why were they so obedient with her when they had tormented me?

Miriam was herded into the front room while Mrs MacTavish picked up the cord no pulled me into the house after her. Melissa bringing up the rear.

I was made to stand in the hall. I'd been expected to be able to retrieve my clothes but they were nowhere to be seen and Mrs MacTavish still held the cord so I was forced to remain naked.

"Fetch the cane Miriam."

"Yes Mother."

Oh gosh! Now I remembered. Mrs MacTavish had been a school headmistress and taken early retirement. She had been known as a strict disciplinarian and had given up when caning had been stopped.

Miriam and Melissa were going to get the cane and serve them jolly well right. Only a pity I wouldn't get to watch it.

At last. The horrible evening was about to be over, I could get my clothes back and go.

Mrs MacTavish looked at me.

"You approve of caning boy?"

"Yes Miss!" the girls deserved every swish.

"Making a example is important."

"Yes Miss."

"How Many?"

Gosh! I would get to choose!  The choice was obvious.

"Twelve Miss!"

"Good, good. How my boy," she always spoke like that, like an ex-teacher, "how did you end up making this disgraceful spectacle of yourself? Answer me that, boy."

"Well Miriam..."

"Miriam what?"

"Well er...,' I was finding it difficult to explain, "she told me to."

"You mean you took your clothes off voluntarily?"

"Well yes but..."

"No buts boy. It seems to me that we invited you to this house and you repaid us by taking all your clothes off and running up and down the street in what I can only describe as very much the altogether."

"Well I er...."

She'd picked the cane up and was flexing it.

"I think you deserve this don't you?"

My mouth went dry. She couldn't be going to cane me could she? I was too old to be caned.

"No Miss, no!"

"But you said you approved of the cane."

"Well yes, but..."

"And you said you should be made an example of..."

"Well yes.. I mean no.. I mean...," my voice trailed off.

"So you deserve the cane?  Or would you prefer I told your parents?"

I would refuse, that was it, I would just refuse, but she would tell my parents. I'd be humiliated in my own family all over again. Anything was better than that.

"Yes Miss. I do Miss."

"You've let me down, you've let yourself down, but most of all you've let down these girls. I think under the circumstances that it is only right they should administer the punishment," she handed the cane to the girls, "he asked for twelve, so six strokes each," she said, "and no going easy on him. He has to be made an example of."

I bent over the chair. It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair at all. It hadn't been my fault.

Melissa swished the cane a couple of times then bent down and whispered in my ear, "Just like Tommy Woodcock," she said, "he couldn't sit down for a week, but now I've had some practice."

*******

Tommy Woodcock had yelled, but my new victim was going to yell more. He had a nice round chubby bare bottom. It made such an inviting target. I tapped it a couple of times to get a better aim then....

*********

Swish! Whack!

"Ooooow!"

Oh my gosh. The tears sprang to my eyes. She really had had some practice.

Swish! Whack!

"Ooooooooooooooooooow!"

Only ten more to go!