Naked Jensens 2: The Insult Incident (f/bb, F/bb, F/b, nc, otk, aud, hum, erec) by Nialos Leaning copyright 1998 by Nialos Leaning, all rights reserved. Permission for noncommercial electronic distribution and personal use reproduction of this story is hereby granted. All such distribution, re-posting and reproduction must be without alteration of this story in any way, must include this entire copyright notice, and must retain in their entireties the following statements: "The following story is intended for ADULTS ONLY. This story depicts two preteen boys, best friends, being spanked by one of their mothers and a teen girl, in front of others. If you are not of a legal age in your locality to view such material do not read further, and do not save this story." "If you don't like stories of this nature, then do not read this story. Please do understand that some of us, including the author, enjoy such fantasy material." "This story is pure fantasy, written for the enjoyment of adults. Behavior depicted in this story may in real life be illegal or considered by society to be abusive, harmful, unacceptable or undesirable. The author neither advocates, condones or personally engages in any such behavior." "This story, as is all fiction, is fantasy and not reality. The author does recognize the difference between the two." "Compliments and constructive criticism are always welcome." ************************ Naked Jensens: The Insult Incident by Nialos Leaning "Please, Mrs. Jensen," I pleaded, "can I get dressed now?" "Absolutely not," answered my best friend's mother. "But my mom and sister will be here soon," I protested. "That's too bad, Billy," she responded. "You two wanted to expose the girls, now it's your turn." I started to cry. Yesterday, I'd come over to Tommy's house for a sleepover. While swimming, we had this brilliant idea of pulling down his sisters' bikini bottoms. I don't know why. Both Tommy and I had seen his two sisters naked before. In his house, after a spanking, a kid had to stay naked, for a very long time. Even if friends visited. The neighborhood kids called this being a "Naked Jensen." To tell the truth, Tommy was the kid most often naked, than his ten-year-old- sister Annie, and least often thirteen-year-old Lorrie. Well, we had succeeded in pulling down the girls' bottoms. The girls had succeeded in screaming. Mrs. Jensen had succeeded in quickly getting us into the living room. She had called my mom, explained what happened, and handed me the phone. To my shock, my mom had made it clear that I was about to become a full fledged Naked Jensen, even though I was a Miller! Our brilliant idea had turned into a very stupid idea. As soon as I had hang up, Mrs. Jensen had us out of our bathing suits. She spanked both of us hard and long with a hairbrush. My butt's still sore from that. She's made us stay naked ever since, even when friends came over yesterday to play. Last night, we even had to go to bed naked. I hate being a Naked Jensen! "Please," I begged through my tears, "it'll be too embarrassing." This was true. At home my nine-year-old sister and I were always spanked over our underwear and never made to go about naked. Becky hasn't seen me nude in two years, mom in six months. "That's too bad," Mrs. Jensen replied. My crying grew louder. One of my fears was that if Becky saw both Tommy and me naked, she would have more ammunition with which to tease me. Tommy is seven months older than me. His twelfth birthday was last month. He already has some pubic hair. His dick has gotten bigger, his balls have dropped. While not even close to the size of the teenagers I've seen, his privates are noticeably larger than mine. For a big boy of eleven, I was still a hairless little boy where it counted the most. "But mom," asked Tommy, "suppose Mrs. Miller makes us walk naked to Billy's house?" "Than, that's what you'll do!" snapped his mom. "The discussion is over. I don't want to hear anymore about it." "Yes, mom," Tommy said. "Yes, ma'am," I managed to get out over my sobs. Tommy's parents and sisters were going away overnight to the city. The girls' ballet school was taking part in a regional recital. Tommy didn't like ballet, so he was staying over at my house tonight. We were both scared that my mom would make us walk bare assed to my house, a block-and-a-half away. "Hey, everyone, look, Billy must like crying!" exclaimed Annie, pointing toward my privates. Glancing down, I saw I had a boner. Again. Since losing our bathing suits yesterday, we both had from time to time had erections. And each and every time, one of the girls was sure to call attention to it. Mrs. Jensen always added a comment that didn't ease our embarrassment, or red faces, any. "Guess he's not too concerned about his family seeing him naked," said Mrs. Jensen. Not too concerned! I was petrified with a new fear. Suppose mom did make us walk home naked, and I popped a boner. I would just die if the whole neighborhood saw how small my full glory was! I was sure that if it happened to him, Tommy would be just as mortified. The doorbell rang. "Thomas, go answer the door," ordered his mother. "Yes, mom," he replied. I noticed that he also had a hard on. Soon, my mom and a giggling Becky entered the room. "Well, young man," said my mother, "I see you're learning a lesson about not exposing others." "Yes, ma'am," I responded. After talking to Mrs. Jensen for a few moments, my mom announced it was time to go. "Okay, boys," she commanded, "get your backpacks." I immediately opened mine, pulling out some of my clothes. "William," barked mom, "I didn't say anything about getting dressed. Put those things away." She was going to do it! Make us walk home naked. I started crying again. All too soon, we were on our way out the front door. Fortunately, both our boners were gone. Almost immediately, Tommy and I shot our hands down to cover up our privates. "Hands away this instant!" demanded my mom. "I didn't say anything about covering up. If I see your hands down there again, I'll make you play with yourselves all the way home." Our hands were gone in a flash. Surely mom wouldn't make us do what the nuns in school were always warning us against doing, and in public, yet. But, just in case, I wasn't taking any chances. Not that I paid much attention to the nuns. At night, in my bed, playing with my dick and balls just felt too good for me to care what Sister Mary Regina said about it in class. We walked about half-a-block when disaster struck. Our backdoor neighbors, the Lynchesky kids and their mother, were approaching. They were accompanied by the McCoy twins. The twins, Bobby and Betty, were thirteen-year-old royal pains to us younger kids. The McCoy's cohort, Sharon Lynchesky, also thirteen, was just as bad. Sharon's sister and brother, ten-year-old Kelly and eight-year-old Steven (he hated Stevey!) were tormented by the evil Terrible Thirteen Trio even more than the rest of the neighborhood kids were. "What's the matter," Sharon taunted, "your mommies forget to dress you? "None of your fucking business!" I immediately exclaimed. At the same time, Tommy let out with, "Shut up, cuntface!" "Awful big mouths for two little Naked Jensens, don't you think?" interjected Betty before any of the adults could react. "Absolutely right," said my mom. "Boys, you apologize to Sharon for insulting her. Then, you apologize to all of us for your language." Sheepishly, we apologized. First to Sharon, than everyone. We weren't very sincere about it, and mom knew it. "In about two hours," mom dropped her bombshell, "we're going to have a spanking party in our backyard. You're all invited. Invite your friends, your neighbors, the more the merrier." "Mom, please no," I begged, "you can't do this to us, you just can't." "Oh yes I can," she replied, "and I will." The Trio were all smirking at this turn of events. I was devastated. Mom was planning to put on a show for the neighbors, with Tommy and me as naked stars. "I'll be glad to help organize things for you, Kathy," said Mrs. Lynchesky. "Thank you, Linda," replied my mom. "If everyone brings something to share, we can have a right old neighborhood picnic." "I'll make the calls and set it up," confirmed Mrs. Lynchesky. "Of course, you can use our yard, also." Being on a corner lot at the end of the development, we had a large yard. The Lynchesky's had just as big of a yard. While both our yards were fenced on the sides, there was no fence separating the two. We could easily have a hundred people back there, with room to spare. To my relief, we resumed the journey to my house. Once inside, Mom immediately talked to dad. "Serves them right," he commented when told of our misdeeds. "Good idea!" he said of mom's picnic plans. Soon, dad was in the car on his way to pick up supplies for the picnic. Mom sent Tommy and me out back to play. "No swimming," she ordered, "there's no one to watch you." After an hour, mom and Becky came out in their swimsuits. We were allowed to go swimming. Thirty minutes before the first guests were to arrive, mom ordered us out of the water. "Well, that's the coolest your bottoms are going to be for a while," she said. We both started crying, again. Before long, the guests began arriving, carrying an assortment of picnic baskets, coolers, lawn chairs, blankets and other stuff. Soon the yard was filled with neighbors, friends, schoolmates, and parents. I counted sixty-two people, but I'm sure I missed a few. Both Tommy and I again had boners. Just went I thought my embarrassment couldn't get any worse, a smiling Sister Mary Regina and Sister Kathleen, our school principal, came strolling into the yard. After about twenty minutes my mom announced, "okay everyone, it's time to get the fireworks started." Some of the audience, especially the kids, applauded and hollered their approval. "Billy, Tommy, over here, now." Reluctantly, tears flowing, we want to my mom. "Sharon," mom said, "since the boys insulted you, you get to help spank them. Come sit next to me." "Yes, ma'am!" responded Sharon. She quickly sat in the empty chair to mom's right. Mom held a wooden hairbrush and a mean looking paddle. I'd never seen either before. Dad must had bought them when he went out. I hadn't thought that these were the kind of picnic supplies that she had sent him to get! "First," mom told Sharon, "you spank Billy hard with your hand." "My, pleasure," Sharon said. I was in shock. Not only was mom going to let a girl spank me, she was going to let her use her bare hand on my bare bottom. My face turned deep red. "Then, give him twenty with this," mom continued, handing Sharon the hairbrush. "Yes, ma'am!" enthused Sharon. "After that," mom finished, "he goes over my lap for twenty with the paddle. When we're done with Billy, we'll give Tommy the same treatment." I was crying out loud, and the spanking hadn't even started yet! "Okay, Billy, over Sharon's lap," mom commanded. Decades sooner than I'd hoped, Sharon was spanking me. Her first smack stung like crazy. I didn't think any girl could hit that hard. I soon found out that she could hit much harder. Each of her spanks were harder than the one before. After ten spanks, I was steadily crying, shouting out with each smack. As the spanks continued, my crying became ever louder, ever more urgent. I was kicking my legs about furiously, begging as best I could through my sobs for her to stop. Stop she didn't, till all twenty hand spanks had punished my bare behind. My respite was only brief, as immediately Sharon applied the hairbrush to my already sore bottom. If anything, her brush spanks were even harder than her hand spanks. I was crying no more, I was howling. My butt was getting hotter and hotter. I desperately wanted to dip it into the cooling waters of the pool. My kicking picked up so much I could feel the wind I was generating. Finally, the twentieth stroke landed. Sharon's hardest yet. I let out an ear splitting scream, it even hurt my ears. I got up and went to mom. "Good job, Sharon," she said. I just danced around, jigging from foot to foot, crying my eyes out. "My, my," mom said, "look how red your bottom is, I bet it's plenty hot. And you still have the paddle to go, to warm you even more." With that, mom pulled me over her lap and commenced paddling. Every stroke of that paddle was a pure agony. I'm certain that if anyone had been home at Tommy's, they would had heard my screams and howls. I was no longer kicking, I was running in place. My bottom was burning up. I wondered if smoke was raising from it. I wasn't capable of coherently pleading with mom to stop. I doubt it would had mattered, mom would had simply ignored me. The last four were real scorchers, I didn't know I could yell so loud or so long. Finally, it was over. I was on my feet, again doing my jiggling dance for my audience. "Don't even think about rubbing that behind, young man," mom admonished me. "Tommy, your turn. Get over Sharon's lap." Soon Tommy was getting a rerun of my treatment. With the same results. Crying, kicking, begging, howling, pleading, screaming, all to no avail. Sharon was every bit as effective on Tommy as she'd been on me. As was mom. When it was all over, I was amazed at the dark red color of his behind. I'm sure mine matched. The next two hours were the most embarrassing of my life, up to then, anyway. People kept commenting on the color of our butts. The adults made jokes about cooking eggs and using our bottoms for searchlights. Not ten minutes after Tommy's spanking, a third grade girl named Stacey came up and felt my bottom. "Hey, brat," I shouted, "keep your hands to yourself." "Billy," my mom called, "get over here this instant." Once more I found myself over mom's lap. "But mom," I protested, she touched my bottom!" "That's too bad," mom said as she commenced hand spanking me, "everyone here can touch as much as they want!" After twelve spanks, mom stopped and called Stacey over. "Yes, Mrs. Miller," Stacey said as she came over. "Please feel Billy's behind for as long as you want," my mom told her. Immediately, Stacey put her hands on my bottom, and began rubbing. I was embarrassed, but the rubbing did ease my suffering a little bit. The rubbing also gave me another boner. After a minute or so, Stacey stopped. "Wow, he's sure hot!" she exclaimed as she walked away. Mom let me up. After that, hands were constantly feeling our bare bottoms. A few of the kids were even daring enough to touch our front sides. I think our faces were red the entire time! I overheard the good Sisters talking to mom. "You know," said Sister Kathleen, "many of the parents are after me to return to the discipline parochial schools were known for. After today, I'm inclined to accommodate them." "Well," said Sister Mary Regina, "when I was in grade school, the nuns certainly didn't hesitate to spank us. Of course, we did get to keep our clothes on!" "Times do change," said Sister Kathleen. "For Billy and Tommy, they have," said mom. "If it's all right with you, they'll be attending school tomorrow wearing nothing but short shirts." "Fine by me," said my Principal, it'll be a good lesson to the others of what can happen to them if they don't shape up." "I have no problem with it," said my teacher. I couldn't believe it. My Principal and my teacher, holy women of God, were agreeing to let mom send us to school naked. And I thought an audience of only sixty-two was bad enough! The very red end of this episode of the doings of the Naked Jensens, including a Miller, but despair not, there are many, many more episodes to relate, some time or another.