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From: "Peregrinf" <dfowler@catskill.net>
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Subject: {ASSM} Carl Naked in School 7/15 (mFfg exhib mast spank)
Date: Thu, 25 Oct 2001 18:10:04 -0400
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Carl Naked in School 7/15 (mFfg exhib mast spank)

Wednesday Morning

The next morning, standing there in my room after my shower, I
looked at the school clothes I'd set out, wondering what I'd been
thinking of. There they were; underwear, socks, white short
sleeved shirt, khaki pants today, instead of jeans. 

Why in the world had I bothered? Once I got to the school door
they all had to come off. 

Then I heard Mom calling me to breakfast, and reached for my
underpants - and dropped them. I'd deal with the clothes problem
after I ate. I trotted downstairs naked, my dick flopping about
as I entered the kitchen. 

"Ouch!" mom yelped. 

The chair at the kitchen table was cold under my butt. "You okay,
Mom?" 

She was running cold water over her hand. "Oh, I just burned
myself. Nothing serious," she assured me. "You startled me! I
didn't expect to see you - like that!" 

"Is it okay?" I asked, reaching for some toast. "I was going to
dress after breakfast." 

"It's okay. You just startled me. It's going to take awhile for
me to get used to this." 

"Sorry," I apologized through a mouth of toast, starting to get
up. "I'll go...." 

"No!" she answered a little sharply. "No, don't. I need to get
used to it." She nibbled her lip. "This program is for all of
us." 

"Good morning!" Sis greeted us cheerily. "Nice outfit," she
teased me. She was kind of dolled up this morning - white blouse,
nice skirt, knee socks, a pretty bow in her hair and even a touch
of lipstick, which was rare. 

I winked at Mom. Sis seemed to take my nudity in stride this
morning. "You look nice yourself," I complimented her. "What's
the occasion?" 

She shrugged. "Nothing special. I just felt like it." 

"Drink your juice," Mom ordered, dishing out the scrambled eggs.
"And eat up, both of you, or you're going to be late. As will I
if I don't get out of here right now." She shoveled down her
breakfast, gave us each a hug and peck and gathered up her things
and was gone like a whirlwind. 

Sis and I ate in silence for a few minutes, neither of us being
morning people. Then a horn honked outside. 

"There's my bus! Shit!" She scrambled for her books. 

"Where's your quarter?" I asked. Mom's real strict about bad
language. When one of us says the "s" word or the "f" word we
have to drop a quarter in a jar on the counter. I think she'd
contributed as much as Dee and I had lately. Pretty soon we'd
have enough to go to the movies. 

"I'll pay this afternoon." Sis gave me a quick peck on the cheek,
her hand hot on my thigh as she leaned on it. "Better hurry!" 

I checked the clock. "I've got time. See you this afternoon." 

Silence fell and I took a deep breath, then shuttled the dishes
to the sink before hurrying upstairs. 

One look at all those clothes and I shook my head, knowing I was
going to have to pedal like hell as it was. I practically jumped
into my gym shorts (no underpants - why bother?) and threw on a
tee shirt. Socks and loafers completed the process of dressing
for school. My pencils, house key and stuff went in my book bag.
Then I was out the door and on my bike. 

As I swooped down the driveway and out on the street I felt air
blowing up the open legs of my shorts, swirling around my dick
and balls. My cock began to swell from the unfamiliar sensation.

The faster I pedaled, the more my dick grew, encouraged by the
wind and the friction of its unfettered motion against my thigh
and shorts. I glanced down; it was like a rod against my thigh,
the head creeping downward with every pump of the pedals. By the
time I was half a block from school the head was sticking out,
catching the wind. 

I leaped off my bike, slammed it into the rack and locked it,
then took off around the building to where I was supposed to
undress, hoping the girls had gone in already. 

Oh, man. There was a mob! And there were the cheerleaders! In
uniform, pompoms and all! And Peggy Schwartz, with her camera, to
take pictures! 

They burst into a cheer the moment they saw me, doing their
little dance and pomming their poms, or whatever that is they do
with them. 

"Yay Carl! He's our man! If he can't do it, no one can!" 

Blushing furiously, I skidded to a stop by the box. 

"Better hurry, Carl, or you'll be late," Peggy urged, snapping
pictures. 

"C'mon, guys!" I pleaded as the cheerleaders shook their butts at
me in one of their routines. Then they whirled around and leaped
into the air, and I swear, two of them weren't wearing panties! 

"Remember the rules, Carl," Peggy reminded me. "And try to
smile!" 

I shook my head, beaten. She was right. And anyway, she was such
a perky little button, it wasn't possible to get mad at her. I
dropped my book bag and started to peel off my T shirt. 

"Yah dah dah, dah da da daaah. Yah dah dah, da da da dahh," the
cheerleaders trumpeted, the old tune from that movie "The
Stripper." They danced and waved their pompoms in time to the
music. 

So, I wiggled, and squirmed like I thought maybe a stripper would
wiggle and squirm, peeling the shirt off and whirling it over my
head while Peggy snapped pictures. I tried to flip it over her
camera lens, but she dodged and went right on snapping as I
hooked my thumbs into the waist of my shorts. 

There wasn't any secret about what I had inside them. My hardon
was like a tent pole. Dragging the shorts down, I let my cock
spring free. I was able to step right out of them without taking
my shoes off. 

"No underwear!" the cheerleaders shrieked. "Yay, Carl!" 

"There it is ladies!" Daringly, I wrapped my hand around my dork
and waggled it at them, twirling my shorts on my other hand. 

You would have thought a rock star had shown up the way the girls
screamed. 

Then the bell rang and I had to head inside, much to my relief,
pursued by the cheerleaders and Peggy, still snapping pictures.
When I stopped at my locker I think half the girls going by took
the opportunity to smack my bare ass as they scampered past. By
the time they were done I felt like I had a sunburn back there,
and a hardon ready to explode. 

 Then it was Freschetti crowding me, practically shoving me into
my locker. The steel door was like ice against my already heated
tail and I let out a whoop. 

"You and me, dork. Behind the equipment shed. Three o'clock." 

"I've got science club," I pleaded, trying to squirm away and
failing. 

"Three o'clock, dork," he repeated ominously, leaning closer. 

"Mr. Freschetti." Miss Mitchell's voice was as cold and hard as
the steel door of the locker trying to wedge its way up the crack
of my ass. 

"Shit!" Freschetti muttered, backing off. 

"I'm pleased to see you taking such an interest in Mr. Walker's
project," Miss Mitchell went on. "Perhaps you'd like to join him?
Don't hurry away, Mr. Walker." 

I froze. 

"Has he been bothering you, Mr. Walker?" 

"Uh, no Miss Mitchell," I lied, sweating, not about to rat on
this gorilla, no matter what. 

"Hmmm." Obviously she didn't believe me, but decided not to
challenge me on it. "If there should be the slightest incident of
harassment from you, Mr. Freschetti, you will join Mr. Walker in
dispensing with clothes for the rest of this week, and all of
next week." 

"Yes'm," he agreed meekly. 

"And, if you are not suspended, you will be forced to play in
Saturday's game wearing only your protective garments. Is that
clear, Mr. Freschetti?" 

He blanched. "Yes'm." 

"Now, get to class before you're later than you already are." She
watched him hurry away and then turned to me. "Are you sure he's
not been bothering you?" 

"Yes'm," I insisted. 

"Hmmm," she murmured again, looking down at me. All my apparatus
looked like it was trying to crawl up inside me for safety. "It's
amazing what fear can reduce a man to." She reached down and
stroked my terror shriveled penis and it sprang to attention. 

She stroked its underside again, slowly, and it wept with joy.
"Please stop by my office during lunch, Mr. Walker." 

"Yes'm." 

Then she turned business-like. "And, if there is any more trouble
with Mr. Freschetti or any of his associates, I want you to tell
me about it immediately. That, too, is part of the program,
remember. Harassment of any kind will not be tolerated." 

"Yes'm," I agreed dutifully, turning to go, hoping it wouldn't
come up. 

"You're doing well, Mr. Walker. Keep it up," she called after me.


Keep it up? I couldn't manage to keep it down! "Yes'm," I
answered, hurrying away, wondering what lunch time at her office
would bring.

I found out shortly after knocking on her office door and being
invited in, closing it behind me at her request. She was in
"severe" mode, by the looks of it. Her starched blouse barely
bent over her small breasts. 

She studied me, from head to toe, and I felt a blush rising. As
usual, I had a hardon, though not one of the hardest. 

She drummed her fingers on her big, polished desk. "I have a
problem, Mr. Walker." 

"Yes'm?" 

"You have not been truthful with me," she went on. 

I prickled with sweat at the accusation. Lying was a clause in
the school honor code that had stiff penalties. 

"I know that this morning was not the first encounter you have
had with Mr. Freschetti. Miss Gallison reported an incident
outside the lunchroom between the two of you yesterday." 

"It wasn't anything," I argued. 

"He threatened you," Miss Mitchell answered bluntly. "Then, again
this morning, he was threatening you. Wasn't he, Mr. Walker?" 

I hung my head. "Yes'm," I admitted miserably. "But...."

"You lied to me, didn't you, Mr. Walker?" 

"Yes'm." I nodded. 

Her fingers drummed on the desktop. "I understand your motives,
Mr. Walker. I was young once, too, you know. I know what peer
pressure can be like. You were afraid of retaliation, of
ostracism if you tattled on him, weren't you?" 

"Yes'm." What could I say? Freschetti or someone of his gang,
most of them football jocks, would have pounded me if I'd ratted
him out. To say nothing of how the rest of the school would have
reacted to having our best halfback benched. 

"Never-the-less, that does not mitigate your violation of the
Honor Code, Mr. Walker." 

"No'm," I agreed, waiting for the ax to fall. 

"You present me with a difficult choice, Mr. Walker. Normally,
that would be cause for immediate, summary suspension, would it
not?" 

"Yes'm." 

"But that would interrupt your academics, and disrupt the program
you are currently engaged in as well," she pointed out "I would
regret that happening, and we'd have to start all over again next
week, as well." 

I thought of another week of nudity and shivered. I mean, yeah, I
was getting kind of used to it, but still, it wasn't something I
was anxious to carry on any longer than I had to. 

"So, I want to propose an alternative." 

I perked up. "Yes'm?" 

"Corporal punishment." 

"Corporal punishment?" 

"A spanking, Mr. Walker." 

"A ... spanking?" My voice cracked. 

"A spanking." She was silent a moment. "It's your choice," she
added. 

I gulped, weighing the alternatives. I could endure another week
of walking the halls and taking classes naked, or get my butt
tanned by Miss Mitchell. I am not big on pain. On the other hand,
something about a spanking - I felt my dick stiffen at the though
of bending over Miss Mitchell's lap, of her hand smacking my bare
ass. 

Besides, it would only hurt for a few minutes. 

"Uh, I guess the spanking," I answered reluctantly. 

Was there a twinkle in her eye? A flush on her cheek? "As you
wish, Mr. Walker." Opening a drawer on her desk, she pulled out a
ping pong paddle! "This way, please," she ordered, rounding her
desk and heading for the door. 

Then I remembered. Paddlings were given in public!

Numb, I followed her out the door, into the halls crowded with
students heading away from the lunchroom. At her order, I bent
over, resting my hands on my knees. I didn't need to look. I
could sense the crowd gathering. 

"Mr. Walker lied to a faculty member," Miss Mitchell announced
clearly. "The penalty he has chosen is corporal punishment, six
strokes with the paddle." 

The first one landed on the right cheek of my ass and I almost
fell on my face as my butt burst into flame. Already it had been
warmed by the girls that morning, and now it was getting
blistered! 

Clenching my teeth, I squeezed my eyes shut in an effort to keep
the tears from coming. The next swat hit my left cheek. The rest
followed quickly, alternating, three on each side of my butt. 

I was gasping. 

My tail was burning. 

I was horny as a goat! 

I straightened up, trying not to rub my blazing backside,
blinking back tears. "Thank you, Miss Mitchell." 

"On  your way, Mr. Walker." 

My rigid cock leading the way, I almost ran to gym class, barely
pausing in the girl's locker room to shed my shoes and socks. The
girls were flooding in. Some of them having just witnessed my
punishment, giggled and pointed at my butt, which felt like it
had been set on fire. 

We were directed to the pool, and I looked forward to cooling my
tail in the water, but first I needed to take care of something
else. I asked Coach for time for relief. "Stephanie, will you 
help me, please?" 

She blinked, and her plump cheeks pinked up, but she stepped
forward even as some of the more svelte girls rolled their eyes
and looked at each other. 

"Are you sure you want me?" she asked softly. 

I nodded. "Positive. Just wrap your hand around it, and pump." 

She did, and worked it like it like a lever, instead of stroking
it. 

"No, this way," I explained to the titters of the other girls,
and some guffaws from the boys. Putting my hand on hers, I showed
her how to stroke my hardon. 

"It's hot, and hard," she whispered, catching on quickly, my
juices surging. 

"Can I - touch your breast?" I asked. She was wearing the usual
tank suit, nylon or something, thin as onion skin, molded to her
- uh - robust curves. 

"Uh - I guess so, if you want to." 

"I really do!" I assured her, brushing my fingers over her tit,
her nipple stiffening sharply from the light touch. Then I curled
my hand around her lush, warm breast, feeling its weight, its
warmth, its softness. 

"Ahhh, don't stop," I pleaded as my groin went into joyous
convulsions, hot spurts of cum jetting to spatter on her thigh
and the pool deck. "Oh, that is sooo goooood," I assured her as
my spurtings declined to a last few pulsations. "Thank you!" 

Stephanie giggled, wiping her hand on her thigh as she did.
"Sticky," she observed, embarrassed. 

"It's all right," I assured her. "It washes right off." 

Coach blew his whistle. "All right, show and tell is over.
Everyone into the pool for some water polo." 

Before she could move away, I took Stephanie's still sticky hand,
led her to the edge of the pool, and dragged her in with me. We
hit the water with a whoop and splashed each other gleefully as
the cool water sluiced away my semen, and soothed my still
burning ass. 

She gave me a peck on the cheek. "Thank you!" she whispered, her
body soft and warm against mine as we treaded water. "That felt
good, when you touched me!" 

"It was my pleasure," I assured her, meaning every word of it. We
laughed together. 






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