In her second letter Stephanie continues to remind David of what she saw when she made a spur-of-the-moment visit to the boy’s mother. Stephanie had been taken aback by what she saw and decided it would be beneficial for the boy to have a permanent reminder of how he was dealt with as a result of his unacceptable behaviour. No thought was given to David’s feelings and he was treated by his mother in just the same manner as he would have been had Stephanie not been sitting next to her.
Events had been embarrassing enough for David, as described in Stephanie’s first letter, and now in her second letter Stephanie was about to remind David how things got a whole lot worse…
My dear David (the letter began),
I’m sorry to hear that you found my previous letter so upsetting, but you must learn to accept the consequences of your actions. It is only by being reminded of what happens when your mother has to take you to task can you learn how to behave responsibly. You are sixteen-years-old David. It is time you acted your age and until such time that you do, I agree with your mother that you should continue to be treated like a twelve-year-old.
Your mother and I are in full agreement that writing these letters will help to persuade you to mend your ways. If you decide not to mend your ways David, then I strongly suggest you read these letters to remind yourself what happens to naughty boys when they don’t.
To return to events of that afternoon when I saw what happened to you in your mum’s living-room:
I’m sure you remember how you stood in front of us David with your shirt tails up and your trousers down while your mum and I sipped our tea and discussed your behaviour. Your ears must have burnt when your mum told me the sort of things you’d been getting up to behind her back, thinking you could get away them. Really David it’s just the sort of silly behaviour you’d expect from a twelve-year-old … but then you did look just like a twelve-year-old as you stood in front of us with your short school trousers crumpled around your ankles and your hands on your head. I don’t suppose I need to remind you that’s where your hands stayed while your mum and I drank our tea, since naughty boys don’t deserve tea, unless… but I don’t want to get ahead of myself. I’ll discuss your special tea later in its proper place.
While I drank my tea and nibbled a biscuit, it gave me a wonderful opportunity to savour the state of your déshabille. What was most noticeable, now that mum had taken down your little grey short trousers and pulled up your grey school shirt, was your white school regulation underwear. As I said before David, it became increasingly difficult for me to take you seriously as a sixteen-year-old. After all what boy of that age would wear underpants and vest so obviously bought for him at the School Outfitters?
I’ve no doubt that you had to be measured specially for your school vest and underpants by the young lady assistant at the outfitters. I doubt whether she would see many sixteen-year-old boys coming in with their mums and asking for white cotton underwear. As you know, normally school underwear is only worn by much younger, junior boys. By the way, just in case you’re in any doubt David, your mum has told me that she doesn’t allow you to wear any other styles of underwear to school. In fact the only underwear you possess are your school uniform white vests and underpants! David, it really is laughable to think that a sixteen-year-old boy is only ever allowed to wear junior boy’s school underwear.
Be that as it may, I must say that your school vest and underpants certainly look very smart on you. The fact that your legs and thighs are so smooth complements the white uniform underpants. I noticed the legs of the underpants are cut nice and high, which means, doesn’t it David, that you can wear the shortest of short grey trousers to school. I gather from your mum that the School Outfitter has been asked on more than one occasion to raise the hem of your short trousers. It must have been deeply embarrassing to stand still at the outfitters while you were being measured by the helpful young lady assistant for yet another pair of thigh-baring short school trousers. I can well imagine mum and the outfitter discussing just how short your trousers could be and the relative merits of keeping teenaged boys bare-legged.
Your mum also tells me that winter or summer, she likes you to be smartly turned out in your school uniform, which of course means it’s bare legs no matter what the weather. It must have been rather nippy for you during last Autumn Term, when we had all those biting gales and driving rain. If that wasn’t enough, I’m told you had to walk to school when it snowed later that school term. Tramping through all that snow in short trousers must have been a bit chilly. I’m sure a few snowballs must have landed on your bare legs as well… but I digress…
I loved the way your mum had hoisted up your shirt-tails David. By pulling them up at the back and pushing them into your shirt collar she had completely exposed your school uniform underwear. I noticed that you’d been told to tuck your white school vest neatly into the elastic waistband of your underpants and very smart it looked too. Of course having your shirt hoisted up like that meant that I got a good view of your boy-bulge. Yes, David, you know what I’m talking about, the bulge your penis and testicles make in the front of your school uniform underpants. While I’m sure mum is quite used to seeing your boy-bulge, it was the first time I’d seen it and I was very impressed David. However, it was easy to see that you were very embarrassed about having such a noticeable boy-bulge. The minute you saw me looking at the front of your school underpants you blushed a deeper red than the smack-marks that were still visible on your legs.
What you have to remember David is that when you’re wearing thin cotton school uniform underpants, your boy-bulge is very obvious and well-defined to anyone who sees it. This meant David that I could see the outline of both your penis and your testicles… but I’m sure you knew that, didn’t you?
Your boy-bulge was the only thing about you that made me think that maybe you were sixteen after all. Certainly any twelve-year-old sporting a boy-bulge like yours David, would be the envy of his classmates when they saw him in the school showers. But the size of your boy-bulge wasn’t the whole story was it David? But we’ll come to that in a minute.
Before long it was time to move on. The tea things cleared away, mum took charge once more. You were called closer again and I wondered what would happen next. You appeared to know, David as I saw you rubbing your bare thighs together in anticipation. Again you bit hard on your lower lip and once more you looked as though you’d burst out crying, just like a junior schoolboy who’s been caught misbehaving. Sixteen? No, definitely not!
Without more ado mum reached down, took hold of your left leg and pulled it up leaving you to balance precariously on one leg. I could see that it was with great difficulty you kept your balance as you had to keep your hands on your head. With her other hand mum pulled one leg of your short trousers over your left sandal. Now she put that leg down and picked up your right leg. In no time all mum had your short school trousers off and folded neatly. It was clear you wouldn’t be needing them any more!
Next it was your long grey socks. From the way mum drew them down I could see she was very used to getting you undressed. She lifted up your left leg again… this time to unbuckle your sandal. She took the sandal off and put it on the floor by her side and then pulled the sock off your foot. Then she did the same with your right foot.
My, what a sight you presented David! Your short trousers were off and so were your socks and sandals. Your grey school shirt was still tucked up into the collar which meant you were displaying your white school vest and underpants for all to see. I mustn’t forget to remind you that you were still also wearing your cap and school tie, but something told me it wouldn’t be long before mum decided to remove those along with your school shirt!
I was right, of course and before long you were stood in front of your mum and me dressed in nothing more than your white school regulation underwear. As you had your hands still clamped on your head I could see that even at sixteen there was no sign of body hair under your armpits, but as your face and your legs were so smooth, I rather expected that would be the case.
Now I’m sure you won’t believe me when I tell you David, but as I looked at you standing there, looking so forlorn, I actually felt sorry for you. Watching a sixteen-year-old schoolboy, like yourself, reduced almost to tears as he is undressed by his mum is a heartbreaking sight David, because it means the boy must have been very naughty indeed to deserve such treatment.
I could see that your breathing was becoming deeper the more nervous you became… and at this point you were very nervous, weren’t you David. Your mum’s fingers were already teasing the elastic waistband of your white school uniform underpants as she prepared to lower them.
I could see that it was taking an enormous effort of will for you to stay standing with your hands on your head as you watched your mum’s fingers slide around the waistband of your underpants. As I watched she gently pulled your school vest out and made you turn round so she could pull your vest out at the back. She ordered you to turn back and I could see the expression on your face had turned to one of unalloyed dread. Mum slipped her fingers into both sides of the leg-elastic, pulling it upwards as she did so. Her thumbs then curled round to loop into the waistband. The sides of your school underpants were now scrunched up and ready for mum to pull them down.
You remember what happened next don’t you David? Of course you do… how could you possibly forget?
I couldn’t believe that I heard, a sixteen-year-old schoolboy pleading “… mummy don’t…” Then as you felt mum’s grip tighten, “… please mummy don’t… please don’t pull down my underpants mummy…” I even think that in your panic you forgot that I was there watching everything that happened, because I can’t imagine any grown boy pleading so shamelessly with his mother not to pull down his underpants.
I held by breath as mum started to gently ease your underpants down David, and I’m sure I could hear your heart thumping. Your skin is so smooth that mum had no trouble sliding the waistband down over your bottom. From the side I could see the deep curves of soft flesh which had been uncovered now that your bottom was completely bare.
At the front the waistband had been dragged downwards too, but your precious boy-bulge was still covered. But not for much longer David, as mum brought her fingers forward and pushed them down into the elastic waistband either side of the bulge. The atmosphere was electric and I could almost smell your fear as mum teased the waistband down ever so slowly until…
… until the base of your penis came into view. I could tell it was the base of your penis David as I could clearly see its slender width being slowly uncovered. But whereas I’d expected to see a well-developed bush of boy-hair, you David had very little indeed. I almost fell from my chair as I strained forward to see if there were any hairs at all at the base of your penis!
As your mum continued to pull your little underpants inexorably downwards, it became clear there was nothing more than a few straggly hairs either side of the base of your penis… and nowhere else. A few straggly pubic hairs, David… why, you could almost count them!
I could see the waistband of your underpants was pressed against your penis as I waited for the inevitable uncovering of your boyhood. Slowly more of it was revealed and I was impressed by its length when it eventually sprang out into full view, released from the pressure of the elastic waistband of your junior schoolboy underpants. It was obvious you were mortified when your penis bobbed up and down in front of your mum and I until it came to rest and hung completely exposed between your legs. As I examined your penis David, mum continued to draw your schoolboy underpants down your long smooth legs, past your knees, all the way down to your ankles.
Now it was time for your school vest. With your white school uniform underpants left crumpled around your ankles, mum took hold of the bottom of your white school vest. She pulled it up, right up until it was rumpled up around your neck.
David, with vest up and underpants down, you were for all intents and purposes, bare-nude from top to toe!
Mum decided it was time for another little break to give you some more time to reflect (literally as it turned out!) on your recent behaviour. To my amusement you were instructed to go and stand three feet in front of a free-standing full-length mirror which mum had placed in readiness across the other side of the room. ‘Mirror-time’ your mum called it; time for you to see exactly what you looked like now that you had been undressed down to your junior schoolboy underwear.
Of course to get to the mirror wasn’t as straightforward as it sounded. You were forced to shuffle across the room, hobbled by your underpants around your ankles, and still with your hands on your head. What a sight David! I had great difficulty trying to stifle my giggling as I saw your penis wobble as you shuffled across the room. Your not-so-private parts jiggled between your legs, swinging and slapping as they bounced about in full view of your mum and I. Were you red-faced? Of course you were… bright-red... fire-engine red! What boy wouldn’t be having to shuffle, pretty well bare-nude across a room in front of two grown-up women?
You made it to the mirror though and with your underpants down and vest up, took up your place. Thoughtfully mum had placed a chalk mark on the carpet so you knew exactly where to stand. Now, with your head held up, you had time to take a good long look at yourself in the mirror; time in which to think about improving your behaviour; time to think about why your mum needed to take you to task in such a manner. I hope for your sake David, that your time was well spent.
I was pleased you had to do some mirror-time David, because it gave me a chance to study you both front and back. It also gave me a wonderful opportunity to inspect your genitals more closely. As I said before, the most noticeable thing about them was the almost complete absence of pubic hair. Really David I don’t think I’ve ever seen a boy of your age with so little pubic hair. Perhaps it was because there were only a few wispy curls that your little hairs looked so untidy, but for whatever reason I think it’s high time you had them properly trimmed. To my mind there is nothing quite so smart as a boy who has just had his pubic hair freshly clipped nice and short. I will speak to your mother about this David.
Although I could see your penis was pleasantly long, it was, I thought, still fairly slim for a sixteen-year-old boy and perhaps this is connected to your lack of any proper pubic hair. Your foreskin I noted, was a little longer than I would expect to see on a boy your age, but once again as your penis thickens your foreskin might well begin to shorten in relation to your penis length. Otherwise a healthy fold of rosy-red skin at the tip of your penis leads me to conclude that you should have no trouble in fully retracting your foreskin when it’s needed.
Your testicles are well developed for your age David and I could see they hung nice and freely in your loose scrotal sac. I need hardly remind you that your scrotum is perfectly hairless. As you stood looking at yourself in the mirror David, it was difficult not to notice your genitals sway each time you shifted your weight slightly.
Then I gazed at your smooth bottom and allowed my eyes to travel down your long bare legs, to look once more at the red smack-marks and the little heap of white cotton, your underpants, at your feet. I gazed upwards also, to look at your back, shoulder blades and the scrunched up vest around your neck and shoulders. As I was doing so I heard a noise… it was the door-bell wasn’t it David?
‘Now who could that be…?’ Your mum said.
You twisted your head in the direction of the door. The look on your face was indescribable David… a mixture of horror, shame and vulnerability. Horror of who it might be; shame that whoever it was should see you standing facing the mirror with your hands on your head like a naughty schoolboy; and vulnerability because you were, for all intents and purposes, bare-nude with your school vest up and underpants down.
Well David, once more it’s time for me to pause and leave you to consider your recent behaviour and to think about its improvement, otherwise you know you’ll only find yourself back in front of the mirror again, vest up and underpants down, waiting…