Worse Than Shameful: No Need For Modesty_New June 14

Stories about boys ending up in compromising situations, preferably naked and embarrassed, as the name suggests.
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Re: Worse Than Shameful: No Need For Modesty_New May 23

Post by TeenFan »

Worse Than Shameful
Chapter 38. Eggcellent Event Number One


After having a simple breakfast of fried eggs and bacon, cooked on a non-stick copper pan over a small fire, with a bagel with cream cheese,
I had to leave my recently met new friends. I had to go to the tent to put on my swimsuit. I still hated that swimsuit, all black and bulky
on my body. It felt more like a uniform than an article of clothing designed for frolicking in a pool or lake. I had on the disliked swimsuit and
sneakers when I reported to the meeting tent. When I got there and got seated next to the raised stage, I saw that almost all of the girls wore
modest one-piece suits. Only one girl wore a fashionable and fancy bikini swimsuit, and that Handmaiden was the one assigned to Wilfred.
That girl was perhaps the oldest of the Handmaidens, looking like she was around seventeen. Her name was Rosita, and she looked like a
slutty star on a Spanish language TV station, one who got the part based on boob size and perfect teeth.

Dorthea sat at the table on the stage. "Outside the tent there is a stack of orange plastic cones, like the ones you see blocking traffic during
road construction. I hope you gals can take instruction. We'll be laying out the dimensions of this morning's field of battle for Event One.
You there, the one in the bikini...can you read? I have the set of instructions on this clipboard. You get the other Handmaidens started. I
will be grabbing Delilah from you for the moment. My daughter will assist me with the refrigerated truck."

Delilah left the tent with her mother. I was organized into the work party. Maybe I should call it the disorganized party. That dipsy dingbat
of a hot bodied chic in a bikini needed help in understanding the instructions. We were given 100 feet of rope with instructions to form a
square out on the grassy area between the campsites and the latrine building.

The instructions were simple: Form a square playing field using the cones. 100 feet by 100 feet. Place the cones 10 feet apart. Even my twelve
year old brain could figure it would take nearly forty of the orange traffic cones. The hardest part was in keeping the four lines of cones in a
straight line to make the square shape.

Dorthea and Delilah drove up in an ice cream truck, the type one sees rolling slowly by on the streets or parked at the park. We all cheered,
thinking we were going to get a treat of cold popsicles or snow cones. No such luck. When Dorthea opened up the back door of the vehicle
we saw a stack of boxes. Each box has the word EGGS on them. I remembered one of the events was Egg Toss.

"Take out the cartons of eggs. Place all the cartons at the closest corner of the square," Dorthea told us. "Inspect them first. There should
be no eggs already broken."

After all the egg cartons were placed down on the ground, I counted twelve of the brown paper cartons.

Right before Ten O'clock the audience started to gather, bringing along the folding chairs from the bonfire area. As soon as they were seated,
Mrs. Whipple gets on a megaphone, ordering the gladiators to assemble where the egg cartons are. I saw that everyone was in the Roman
costumes. I figured the event would take place with each boy having a shield and helmet. This only made sense to me if the eggs were to be
used as a weapon. But as usual, I was wrong.

"Handmaidens report to your gladiator. Take his armor and shield. Bring everything to his mother in the audience. Sandals too. The contestants
won't have need of anything."

I could see two types of reactions among the gladiators. The ones who did this before immediately stripped down. New contestants like Bradley
and Chad looked around nervously, looked a little frazzled and frightened. It's the first time they had to get naked in front of everyone. Bradley
was naked in front of everyone the night before, wearing only the chastity device. But even Bradley was slow in taking off the Roman skirt.
Mrs. Whipple had to yell at them to hurry up. When the skirt came off, I could see my brother was no longer wearing the cock-cage.

Finally, all the gladiators were naked. Some covered their crotches. The experienced ones didn't bother covering up. Mrs. Whipple had them
line up in alphabetical order, ordered them to stand at attention while the rules of the game were explained. This gave me the chance to
thoroughly gaze upon every curve of each of their butts. I didn't have the name of everyone memorized yet, but seeing and putting together
naked bodies with names were a great motivator in remembering names and faces and cute rear ends. It was amazing to be at such an event,
and to get to participate. It wasn't long till I could see a dick and know who that dick belonged to. I could see just the backside and know
what face goes with the frontside.

But for the moment all I could focus on was butts. Mrs. Whipple explained the game.

"The first event is the Egg Toss. Each gladiator will take possession of one carton of eggs. They will enter the square field of battle. There will
be a one minute delay while each one chooses where they wish to stand within the square. When I blow the whistle, each gladiator will try
to hit their opponents with the eggs. Now be careful how you toss them young soldiers. Each of you has one dozen shots in your arsenal.
Try to make every toss count. The contestant who receives the fewest hits is the winner. Once all the eggs are tossed and cracked, I will blow
the whistle. Line up in front of me for inspection."

The twelve gladiators pick up the twelve cartons that have twelve eggs in them. 12 x 12 x 12...there will be 144 gunky projectiles tossed at
a dozen fast moving and naked targets, twelve rounds per person. The crowd is anxious and excited. I was eager to watch all these boys
running around with no clothes on. I'd seen my two brothers naked in the house. I'd seen them running around in Dorthea's backyard. But
to witness twelve swinging dicks with 24 bouncing balls. I was grinning ear to ear when the whistle blew.

Right before the start of the contest, each one picked up their eggs, then found a space within the square field. Nobody wanted to be too close
to anybody else. Each one looked back and forth at their closest neighbors, as if trying to guess which ones were the biggest threat.

The whistle blows and chaos erupts. Nobody stands still, as each gladiator takes out an egg to toss at somebody. Instinctively, most of them
know that standing still makes them an easy target. Everyone runs, everyone does their best to dodge the white roundish missiles coming their
way. Each tries to get close to another Gladiator to get a good shot off, before bounding away before responding fire can come toward them.

It's sort of like dodgeball, but without a center line. Unlike dodgeball, one can get multiple hits from multiple directions, and keep playing the
game.

I quickly went from watching eggs being tossed to focusing on watching the running gladiators. I eagerly watched and was thrilled at seeing
so many flopping penises. Only a few of the gladiators are on the small side, and these were my brother Chad and the other boys who are
twelve years old. Most of the contestants have genitalia that is easy to see, even as the gladiators run for their lives. A roar of cheers comes
from the audience. The Handmaidens jump up and down when they see their hero warrior plunk another with an egg.

With so many on the field of battle, with the action so fast and furious, I focused mainly on three contestants. My mind easily picked out of
the crowded field Bradley and Chad, my brothers. The third one I naturally picked up on was my favorite nonfamily member. Wilfred knew
what he was doing. He ran fast, looking for somebody to sneak up to smack on the backside. Wilfred dodged with the best of them. After
a minute it was becoming clear who the losers were. Dennis, the oldest, turned out to be slower and with a bigger body he makes a larger
target. Chad on the other hand, he is small and fast, and I saw him dodge a number of hit attempts. But I paid less attention to the hits and
misses than on watching the bare-naked goods on display.

I gasped when I saw Bradley take a shot on the balls. The toss actually came from Chad, though I doubt the aim was targeted at his older
brother's balls, just an unlucky location for the egg to strike. I saw the egg smash right on Bradley's dick, splattering yellow all over his crotch
as white shell pieces flew all around. Bradley went down to the ground. Before he could get up, three more eggs had smashed into various parts
of him. It didn't look good at all for my older bro.

The battle is short. Twelve eggs isn't a lot of ammunition. I saw a mishap by Nazir. He pulled up from running so quickly that he spilled
several eggs out of his carton. He grimaced as he stared at the ruined eggs lying on the ground, and he grimaced again when Wilfred hit him
square in the chest as the older boy streaked past the standing still Nazir. Move n scoot. Shoot and run is the way to win.

The eggs are all fired and destroyed. Mrs. Whipple blows the whistle. The egg slimed contestants trudge over to stand in front of the
camp leader.

"Line up in alphabetical order," Mrs. Whipple shouts.

Once the gladiators are lined up, this time facing towards the audience, standing at attention, it was time to find out who had taken the most
damage. Similar to a paintball battle, the signs of wounds are the yellow stains on their skin. Mrs. Whipple and Dorthea did the inspections.
Avoiding touching the gladiators directly, they counted the number of egg stains on the body of each gladiator. Not surprisingly, it was Wilfred
who had the least amount of egg yolk disfiguring his magnificent figure.

Many in the audience cheered when they heard the winner of the egg toss announced. Nobody dared to boo. Everyone knows Wilfred is the grandson of the leader of the Triple B. Wilfred is the golden one, and he had the least amount of gold color on him.

"The three contestants with the most egg stain are Nazir, Bradley, and Dennis. These three will have their hands bound behind their backs until
the start of the next event. Handmaidens...take your gladiators to the outdoor shower next to the boy's latrine building. Clean them up good
and get them dressed. The three losers are not allowed armor at this time. Now get to it. We have so much to do to prepare the next rounds
of events."

On the backside of the boy's latrine there are three showers with three wooden platforms underneath. Three gladiators at a time can get the
gunk of sticky egg yolk and runny egg white rinsed off. Wilfred and some of the older boys went first. I got to hear Bradley and the other
two tied up boys grumbling, but I paid nearly full attention on watching Wilfred wash himself. The gladiators mostly washed themselves, but
the Handmaidens get to assist by washing their backs or lower legs. I got to assist washing Chad. Chad didn't seem to mind that it was his
sister helping him. I suppose he'd have been more scared of being touched by other girls. The egg felt sticky, so slimy on his skin, but it washed
off easily.

Then it was time for the three losers to get washed. Bradley, Nazir, and Dennis had to stand under the shower heads, standing on the wooden
platforms, while their Handmaidens scrubbed every inch of their bodies. Delilah is Handmaiden to Bradley, and of course she had touched
every inch of Bradley's body before. Still, I could see the disappointment in my older brother's face as he had to endure the washdown, Delilah
digging her fingers into the pubic hair to rid it of the egg slime, brazenly yanking on his dick while other people eagerly watch. He was not happy about the two dozen or so girls, and some moms, who gathered nearby to watch the spectacle. Even after the washing is over, Bradley had to remain one of the bound boys for about another hour. He had to walk around the campsite not allowed to dress and unable to cover up. No
chance at all for Bradley, Nazir, or Dennis to maintain any modesty as the crowd of onlookers sticks to each of them like glue. The youngest
girls, no older than I am, followed Bradley around like they were sheep and he was the shepherd.
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Re: Worse Than Shameful: No Need For Modesty_New May 24

Post by Jeepman89 »

Fun games indeed!
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Re: Worse Than Shameful: No Need For Modesty_New May 24

Post by Trundle »

I was happy for Bradley that his cock cage was removed but that was the end of the good news for him. He seems cursed at the minute! Taking a egg to the balls resulting in him getting pelted with eggs and being one of the 3 losers of the game.

And now he has to be hand washed by his tormenter Delilah in front of a big crowd of girls and women. It wasn't mentioned in the last chapter but I wonder if he got hard while being washed?

Cannot wait for more, story keeps getting better as the embarrassments pile up for Bradley. Really enjoying this and happy it's back.
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Re: Worse Than Shameful: No Need For Modesty_New May 24

Post by TeenFan »

Worse Than Shameful
Chapter 39. Preston's Story, Part One


The purpose of the Boys Be Bare games were for the members to have fun. What could be more entertaining than watching teenage boys
compete while naked? A second purpose was a social gathering. The parents of the gladiators and leaders of the movement were only too happy
to share how the organization got started and how it grew. When the Handmaidens, moms, other relatives were not watching the events, the rest
of the time was spent socializing. Telling stories filled the time between events. I heard quite a few fascinating stories from the moms of
several gladiators.

After the first event and the washup at the outdoor shower was over, a group of young girls followed Bradley back to our campsite. The
Non-Losers were able to get into Roman costume, so the three so called losers became the focus of attention. Bradley, being one of the losers,
was not able to get dressed or cover up. Hands bound behind his back meant the curious onlookers could crowd in to get a good look. I don't
know how, but my brother didn't get an erection when Delilah washed the egg crap off his body. He sort of got stiff, but not a full boner. Still,
being partly erect was enough to draw the attention of a large number of younger girls. The older teens paid Bradley less attention, probably
because they knew seeing hard dick is coming soon later that day. However, the young girls my age and a little older were drawn to my brother
like he was a fishing lure that sparkled and gave off light.

I could see Bradley getting upset with how the others followed him across the camp, giggling and teasing him the whole way. My mom went to
confront the girls, and she told them to bug off. After all, there will be plenty of nekked boy to look at all day long.

Ophelia and Ollana, the two girls granted permission to use our second tent, they were the ones besides myself who got to look at Bradley for
the full hour or so he couldn't cover up. Having no tent to hide in, all Bradley could do was sit on a folding chair and hang his head. The two
girls sat across from him or stood next to his chair so they could continue to stare at him. Chad came over, but when he tried to use the
gladiator's shield to hide his brother behind it, my mom said move the shield away. No covering up is allowed for bound up boys.

My mom made a friend, and this woman came over to sit with us. Mom, being a new member of the Triple B, had been asking questions.
Mrs. Prescott, who happened to be the mom of Preston, was eager to tell how she and her son got involved.

* * * * *

The lifeguard training program at the indoor school district pool accepted applicants as young as fifteen. City pool regulations required all lifeguards to be sixteen and up. But if the applicant turned sixteen by the beginning of summer, then he/she can sign up for the course for Junior
Lifeguards.

Preston is one of five students in the Junior Lifeguard Program. There are two boys and three girls, all of then the same age. The class was a bargain, free of charge. Older teens and young adults had to pay for the course and take the classes at the larger city public natatorium.
From the goodness of her own heart, PE coach Mrs. Wiesman will teach the skills free of charge on Saturdays when the school run pool doesn't
have any regular classes and would normally be empty. Coach Wiesman's own daughter, Wallenda, is one of the students.

Wallenda is a curly haired blond. The other two girls both have dark brown hair, their names being Joanna and Joan, their looks and names
similar because they are twins. The final member of the group is Domingo, who is on the high school diving team. It turns out that Preston is
the only one in the class who isn't on the swimming or diving team. This puts Preston behind the others in swim skill level, not to mention being
behind in fitness level. Right away, Preston was the one out of place. The other four students came to class on Saturday wearing their school
swim team uniforms. One-piece suits are worn by the girls that feature the school colors of blue with yellow stripes. Naturally, Domingo wears a sleek, tight-fitting speedo. Everyone looks at Preston like he's a dork, or maybe an ugly duckling. Preston's board shorts look baggy and come
down to the knees. Even the coach chided him for the unfashionable swimwear.

"That thing is so large you could sneak in a snake in your shorts and nobody would know."

The bulky, baggy shorts didn't help Preston's swim times. The drag slowed him down. Even the girls can beat him doing the required 400 meters.
The first two Saturday classes were difficult. Preston had to learn a number of rescue techniques and get it right which took him several more
tries than the others. Before long Preston began to wonder if he'd get flunked out of the program.

Wallenda and the other girls teased Preston constantly. They shook their heads, Coach Wiesman included, whenever he flubbed up. On the
second Saturday class, Wallenda pulled Preston over to give him a helpful hint.

"When you use your right arm doing the cross-chest carry, it's easier if you grab her breast. You know, when you are saving a girl. Yeah, that's
right. Grab the tit with your hand. Grip it good like an anchor." Wallenda then grabbed her own left breast with her right hand, squeezed it
with a hard grip.

Later that day, when Preston tried the new hand on breast technique on Joan, the girl thrashed wildly, became totally uncooperative. Joan
even slapped Preston across the face. The coach saw everything and inquired what was going on. When Preston tried to say the tit hold was
taught to him by Wallenda the other girl denied everything.

Besides having the other students swim better than him and know more than him, Preston was intimidated in other ways. Right after each
session was over, Domingo showed off his skills by diving off both the one meter and three-meter boards. Preston could jump off the higher
diving board but diving headfirst spooked him. His diving form was worse than his freestyle swimming form.

At the beginning of the third weeks lesson, Wallenda suggested how Preston would do better and would look more appropriate if he were in a
more appropriate swimsuit.

"That suit looks stupid on him."

"Yeah...no lifeguard would wear something that lame," Joanna joined in.

"But I don't have anything else," Preston informs everyone. "Really, what's wrong with this?"

Coach Wiesman agrees with her girl students. "There are some proper suits in the lost and found. I'll be right back." The coach went into a
back room. She came out several minutes later with a small bundle in her hand.

As a group they examined the selection of swimwear from the Lost-N-Found. They were all Speedo choices. Two suits were a size 34-36, way
too large for Preston's slender hips. "Nope...these won't work." The final suit has 26-28 on the label. It appeared so small like underwear for a junior high kid, and Preston has his doubts.

"Put this one on," the coach says.

A few minutes later, Preston emerges from the boy's changing room, and he did not look pleased with the results. The suit is indeed on the
tight side, and the suit is well worn with the butt stretched out so much Preston could see the shadow of his ass crack when he looked at
himself in the mirror, the material nearly see through. When Preston tried to complain Coach Wiesman said the suit looks good enough. For
the first time, Domingo appears to be impressed, maybe intimidated. The unconcealable bulge at the front got everybody's attention.

"So...you were hiding something from us," Wallenda jokes.

Preston didn't like it, but there wasn't anything he could do about it. When he returned to the changing room the baggy board shorts had
disappeared.

The fourth Saturday class focused on snorkeling. Preston enjoyed this class thoroughly. The students got to put on flippers. They were given a mask with snorkel attachment. It was cool to pretend the pool is a coral reef. Then Coach Wiesman brought out two scuba air tanks. Snorkeling turned into underwater scuba. They all practiced retrieving objects from the bottom of the deep end.

Coach Wiesman didn't own the equipment and neither did the school. The coach left early to take the equipment back to the rental shop. The coach left the keys to her daughter, told Wallenda to lock up and walk home. Preston and the other students had twenty minutes of free time till their normal time to end the class.

Of course Domingo wanted to dive off the three meter. Wallenda suggested something more daring.

"We can climb up to the ceiling. See that metal crawlspace way up there. I think we can reach it."

Domingo immediately loved the idea, having already told the group his uncle was a cliff diver down in Mexico. "That ceiling is like going off the
ten-meter platform. Come on, let's go."

Preston was dubious, but when Joan and Joanna showed interest in the daring climb and jump he had to follow to save face. How can he chicken out when three girls are brave enough to do it. The group climbed some stairs to the upper level of bleacher seats. In the corner of the wall
there is a rung ladder that leads to the rafters. Following in single file, the group clambers along several metal beams. It's not crawling, but it certainly isn't walking. Holding on like monkeys, they make their way toward the ledge like crawl space near the ceiling.

At the center point the group can look down at the water, the diving boards on either side of them. It's the only place where jumping off is possible, but it is a long way down. Preston would never attempt this on his own. Not surprisingly, Domingo goes first. He whoops with glee on the way down. Wallenda went next. Preston is the last one left squatting there. His stomach has the heebie-jeebies, a bad case of butterflies.
He's not scared of heights, just scared of falling. Plunging over 30 feet down is too much like falling, and he's not sure he can do it.

"Come on, Preston. Come on," the others encourage.

"Don't be a pussy," Domingo says, and surprisingly none of the girls got upset over the use of the P Word.

Finally, Preston gains enough courage to sit on the edge and hang his legs over the side, then he shoves his body off. Cupping the crotch with
his hands, Preston screams as he plummets to the water. The butt hits with a hard slap, like he'd been given a swat at the principal's office.
When he comes up for air the others are laughing and congratulating him.

"That's freaky scary...but cool," Preston sputters as he clears his eyes.

This was so fun the Junior Lifeguard students climbed up again. Each time they jumped Preston was the last, and each time it took words of
encouragement to get him to leave the safety of the crawlspace.

After three rounds of high jumping, Preston comes up for air after the jump. He can feel a rip on the back of the swimsuit. The worn-out suit
couldn't take the pounding. He feels the back of the suit, feeling exposed skin.

With the kids shouting and looking upward at the ceiling, laughing when Preston pushes himself off the third time, nobody noticed when Coach
Wiesman stepped into the pool area.

Preston, being the one facing toward the other end of the swimming pool, is the one to spot the coach watching them from near the office
room door.
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Re: Worse Than Shameful: No Need For Modesty_New May 26

Post by Trundle »

Wasn't expecting some backstory for one of the other boys but that was captivating!

I hope we get to hear more of Prestons story, what happened while he was in the pool naked with the coach waiting at her office for him? And how did it lead to his Mom finding out and enrolling him in this event?

Can't wait to find out!
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Re: Worse Than Shameful: No Need For Modesty_New May 26

Post by TeenFan »

This is a true story.
One evening I took a young male friend to the college swimming pool I worked at. This friend is around sixteen years old. I gave him one
of my older, worn out speedo suits to put on.

This friend is bigger in the hips and butt than I was. This combined with the suit being worn out had unexpected consequences. Imagine
my surprise when I watch him walk from the heated "kiddie" pool to where the diving boards are, and I can see his ass showing. The swimsuit
is of black material, but his butt can be seen through it when it got too stretched out.

I never told him his ass was showing, and fortunately nobody else mentioned it.
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Re: Worse Than Shameful: No Need For Modesty_New May 26

Post by NickTwisp »

Definitely like the Preston backstory.

Accidental loss of swimsuits in public pools is great embarrassment for either sex.
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Re: Worse Than Shameful: No Need For Modesty_New May 26

Post by TeenFan »

Worse Than Shameful
Chapter 40. Peer Punishment: Preston's Story, Part Two


The other swimmers in the pool wondered what Preston was looking at, what had him turning white like a ghost. They turned around to see
Coach Wiesman approaching.''

"You have any idea how many rules you just broke, Preston?" the coach says as she approaches.

"It wasn't my idea. They all jumped off from up there," Preston said, wondering why his name is being singled out.

"You were the only one I saw up there. It looked to me like your classmates were trying to discourage you."

Preson protested a second time, but nobody backs up his version of events. The coach gets frustrated with the He Said/They Said back and
forth accusations.

"Everybody out of the pool. Get out here now." The coach sounded pissed off.

Without hesitation four fifteen year old lifeguarding students climbed out of the water to stand next to the coach. Preston continued to tread
water an arm's reach of the side.

"Come on Preston. Get out of the pool. You were supposed to finish your laps and get dressed. If that scuba shop were farther away I wouln't
have come back in time to catch you in the act...Well, what are you waiting for?"

Preston climbs out of the water, but he keeps his backside turned away from the others. Maybe nobody will see the strips of torn Speedo Lycra
hanging down in back. The rip was wide enough they will be able to see most of his butt. Unfortunately, it wasn't long till the coach noticed
something.

"Why are you scared? Why are you hanging back like that?"

"My suit ripped," Preston says, lowering his head. He could feel the eyes of the others staring at him.

"Well turn around. Let's see how bad it is." Coach Wiesman makes a turn around motion with an arm, the hand going round and round in a
circle.

Feeling stupid, feeling his face blushing, Preston turned around to show the coach and the group the large split in the back of the swimsuit.
The laughter comes instantly. Preston doesn't want them to stare at his ass, but he doesn't care to face them either.

"Can I swim to the other end of the pool? Can I leave now?"

"No, you may not." The coach says. "You broke a number of rules, and we must determine what should be done with you."

Preston turned back around to see everyone but the coach grinning and laughing. The coach gets them to shut up. A short list of suggestions is quickly presented by Coach Wiesman, all of which would get Preston into serious jeopardy. The school principal could be contacted, or the coach could remove him from the Lifeguard Program. Both of these could end up being on Preston's permanent school record.

"Please don't kick me out, Coach Wiesman," Preston pleaded. "I admit I did wrong...but isn't there any other way?"

The coach looks from Preston to the still grinning group of four classmates. "Perhaps your fellow students can come up with an appropriate
method to administer justice. I've read that Peer Punishment often is not only more fair, but often has great results. I'll let Wallenda, Joanna,
Joan, and Domingo put their collective heads together, see what they come up with. If I don't like their suggestion, I can always call the
principal."

Preston turns to look at his so called peers. They have been put in charge of suggesting his punishment. It's totally not fair, since each of the
members of this Judge and Jury were co-conspirators and equally guilty in climbing up to the ceiling.

After several minutes' deliberation, the group is ready to render their verdict guilty as charged but what is the recommended punishment?
Wallenda speaks for the group.

"We have three ideas we would like to impose. Number One: Preston will climb up to the ceiling and jump off one more time."

Preston tilts his head, scratches the top of his head with the fingers of his right hand. Being punished by being told to recommit the crime?
That's weird.

Wallenda continues, "He will have to go up there minus that swimsuit. He ruined the only good Speedo he has. Preston takes the suit off and
I will throw it away. He climbs the wall. He jumps off the crawlspace."

"Oh hell no. I'm not doing that. That, that would be illegal." Preston shakes his head vigorously.

"Actually, I like the proposal. I can always go back to telling the school authorities and kicking you out of the Program." Coach Wiesman doesn't
leave any room for negotiation. "What is the third phase of his punishment?"

"Since we have no replacement Speedo that will fit Preston...he'll just have to finish the rest of the training course without one."

Preston can feel himself going numb. His face must be getting ghost pale again. Incredibly, the coach seems pleased with what the other
students came up with, and she wants to close the deal.

"You heard the verdict of your peers. They have come up with a workable solution. Do you agree to abide by this punishment? Preston...what
say you?"

Preston looks at the coach. He can't believe she would actually demand the removal of the Speedo. It is torn in the back and nearly useless
now. How long would it be till the rest of it falls apart? Doing a onetime naked climb and dive is horrible. They will all see him naked! Having
no suit to wear for the rest of the Lifeguard training course? Holy Hell...there are several more weeks left in the program.

The coach and four students await the answer. What is he going to decide???
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Re: Worse Than Shameful: No Need For Modesty_New May 28

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Re: Worse Than Shameful: No Need For Modesty_New May 28

Post by TeenFan »

Worse Than Shameful
Chapter 41. Starting To Connect the Dots: Preston's Story, Part Three


Having to make such a decision was agonizing for Preston. Either he removes the torn Speedo, gets naked in front of his fellow classmates and
the coach, then does a solo climb up to the ceiling to make a jump...or he can face the consequences with school officials and his mom. Both
choices totally suck. Which one is least sucky? The three girls and Domingo are eager to hear the answer to the group's "Damned if you do,
damned if you don't" options.

Hardly believing his mouth can actually say the words, Preston gives them his answer. "Okay, I'll do it. I'll climb up and jump off."

Wallenda, Joanna, and Joan all smiled and nodded their heads, pleased with the decision. Preston turned away from them, began walking
toward the stairs to the upper bleacher section. He hated turning his back on them because he knew they all could see his butt through the
large rip in the backside of the Speedo.

"Where are you going?" Coach Wiesman asks. "You're supposed to hand that damaged suit to Wallenda so she can throw it away."

Preston turns around to walk back. He is surprised to hear the coach wants the punishment to be done exactly as Wallenda spelled it out.
Preston thought it was sort of a general idea of a punishment, that such demands weren't etched in stone.

"You mean right here? Take it off right here?"

"You might as well get used to it. You won't be using any type of swimsuit for the next few weeks, except for where the Lifeguard course
requires you to wear something." The coach backs up the strict demands, and she is starting to get that pissed off impatient look again.

Even Domingo couldn't keep himself from chuckling when Preston untied the front string of the Speedo. The coach is the only one without a
grin or smirk. There wasn't anything in the instructions about not covering up, so Preston covers with one hand as he slides the suit down with
the other. Four sets of laughs go off simultaneously. Keeping everything covered up was not so easy using one hand.

After the suit is removed, it is handed over directly to Wallenda. The girl takes it eagerly, and she examines the large rip on the buttside of
the suit. Completely naked now, Preston wastes no time. He turns around to head for the stairs. Fortunately, none of the other students
follows him as he makes the climb up the stairway, then the rungs, then crossing the beams. They all watch from down below.

It was the hardest and most scary jump from the way up high location. Having no suit on enhanced the danger. Preston makes double sure
to have his hands cupped around his balls on the way down. After the jump the coach told everyone to go home. Preston went into the locker
room to get dressed.

It was during the next Saturday session that the real meaning of the punishment kicked in. Preston can't hide his dick from view for long. He
has to demonstrate proper use of the reaching pole, has to throw out the ring buoy for rescue practice, and of course a couple new stretches
and exercises were added to the pre swimming warmups.

* * * * *

I have not had the chance to describe what each of the Gladiators looks like. My two brothers have been described thoroughly, and I said a
lot about my favorite boy, Wilfred. Preston is a year older than Bradley, bigger in the shoulders and a little taller. Preston's penis is a big
one. It's not as long as Wilfred's is, but it is thicker around with a more prominent head. It's actually very similar to my big brother's, but
longer with more girth to it. No wonder he makes a Speedo bulge out in front. That dick is hefty and heavy looking with large balls to match.
Was he the Gladiator with the largest set of weapons to work with? I thought he might be, but the events that required hardons have
yet to be done.

* * * * *

On the final day of class to earn the Junior Lifeguard certificate, Preston's mom drove him to the school swimming pool, which was normal.
What surprised Preston was when his mom got out of the car instead of driving off.

"Why are you coming in?" Preston asked his mom.

"Coach Wiesman sent me a text message. She insisted I come in with you today." Mom started walking toward the front door to the Natatorium.

Preston tried to talk his mom out of coming in with him, but she brushed him off.

Inside the locker room, there was a fresh feeling of helplessness about his situation. He had gotten used to being naked in front of the other
four students and the coach but being naked for class with mom in attendance made Preston consider running out a side door and running off.
There was only one final two-hour session to go. Could he disappear and lose everything? Could he waste all that time and effort?

Mom smiles at him when Preston exited the locker room, fully naked and not covering himself. Mrs. Prescott took a seat nearby, and her smile
never wavered or disappeared all through the next couple hours. After the final rescue simulations and a written exam, the students were
handed their certificates.

Mrs. Prescott hugged her son and congratulated him. "Coach Wiesman filled me in on what happened a few weeks ago. She told me how you
chose a naked punishment over doing a conventional one. The coach told me you have progressed tremendously in losing your excessive modesty.
Indeed...you look so comfortable and natural this way. I'm so proud of you."

* * * * *

It was Coach Wiesman who got Preston's mom to sign him up for the Triple B Association. It turns out that Coach Wiesman is the mom of one
of the other contestants, being mom to fourteen year old Forrester. That isn't the only connection tying all these competitors together. Coach Wiesman's daughter, Wallenda, is the Handmaiden to thirteen year old Andrew.

It started to make sense to me how Handmaidens were chosen, and for which Gladiators. During the storytelling, Preston walked over to our
campsite, stood next to his mom. During the moment of the story where Mrs. Prescott described seeing her son walk out boldly and bare from
the locker room, she lifted the front of the Gladiator skirt, showing everyone nearby a close-up glimpse of Preston's impressive package.
Preston rolled his eyes, then shrugged his shoulders when he caught my stunned gaze.

A moment later a horn blew, signaling the time for the second event of the day was drawing near. Preston took off with my two brothers.

I sat wondering for a while longer. Preston did seem comfortable being naked in front of others, but something kept nagging at me, a thought
in my head that would not go away. Preston didn't do naked Lifeguarding classes completely of his own choosing. He took what he considered
to be the lesser of two punishments. It was the coach and Mrs. Prescott who signed Preston up for the Triple B. It didn't come across that he
volunteered. I knew neither of my brothers would be doing this nudity required competition if it wasn't forced upon them. This lack of choice
was beginning to bother me.

Is anyone here in this Boys Be Bare games of their own free will?
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