Date: Sat, 27 Apr 2024 07:25:37 -0700
From: gayD <gaydic@gmail.com>
Subject: Sweet Robbie Becomes Family Slave - Chapter 3

So, guys,

Rachel and Robbie continue their shopping excursion in this weird little
town of Hardington where there is not only public nudity, but public
humiliation. It has become special entertainment for the visitors and
residence there. Rachel is having Robbie try on teeny, tiny, string
bikinis, not even allowing him to use the dressing room!

Sweet Robbie Becomes Family Slave
Part 3 of 6

"No, I don't think this orange is a good color for you." A couple of phone
flashes went off. She returned to the same drawer, found another size 28,
but a bright yellow, and told him to try that pair on.

He grabbed it quickly, a little too quickly; he was just way too nervous
standing there naked. He didn't even leave to go into the dressing
room. What was the point? He just stepped one foot and then the other into
the bikini. But then a surprised and puzzled look came over his face as he
struggled to pull up the tight suit. He had to wriggle his thighs and hips
as he slowly pulled it up. Even though it finally stretched over his butt,
it was certainly way too small. He did manage to jam his balls and dick in
the pouch, but he could feel the back side would no longer cover his
ass. When fully pulled up, he reached behind him, felt his cheeks, and
realized that he was showing two inches of his ass crack. "OK, dear, turn
around. Let us take a good look." And he did as ordered. "Now stretch your
arms way up high; we want to be sure they won't fall off." He did. "OK, I
see the problem," she said.

In front of the gathered customers, Rachel pulled down the front of his
bikini a little to find the pull string and untied it. She then put her
hand inside the front pouch, pulled on his jammed-in "folded dick,"
straightened it out, and angled it to his right hip. Then she reached
deeper inside and gently grabbed and readjusted his balls so they bulged in
the front of his suit rather than hiding down and under his groin. Now,
instead of a big general mound in the front, Robbie was very clearly,
showing his firm dick pointing up and to the right with a ball on each side
at its base. More noticeable, it could not be.

There was a full-length dressing mirror on a nearby pillar, which he looked
in to see himself. There he was, totally naked but for this squeezed-in
bikini. He thought he looked like a slut. He was so embarrassed, and that
caused his dick to get even stiffer. He was not even wearing shoes since
his mother gave them to a teen who had simply admired them. He wanted to
die there and then from the humiliation as he saw the faces of the
customers, especially the two teen boys who were chuckling at him. She made
him turn and twist and bend over.

Then Rachael turned to the customers watching and asked, "Doesn't my dear
sweet Robbie look so sexy in his new bright yellow bikini? Look how the
strings hang down on the sides as a decoration. Robbie, I think you look
great. Yellow is your color." The watchers also nodded their approval and
took photos. She followed Robbie around the store and asked another clerk,
"Do you carry the Onion Skin brand running shorts? My dear, sweet Robbie
likes to show off his body in tiny, skimpy shorts." The clerk pointed to
where they were, and she went to that display with Robbie in tow.

Onion Skins were extremely lightweight, nearly see-thru, and made for
jogging. They were low in the hip and very short in length, so runners
noticed no material causing friction on their thighs. In addition, each
side had a slit up to the waistband. If the wearer lifted his knee-waist
high, you could see the curve of his ass through the slit. So, they were
designed to be very lightweight and non-binding on a runner's legs and
crotch. For normal modesty, the shorts came with a silk cup or pocket where
a man's dick and balls would be placed for support when running or
walking. The cup snapped to the inside front of the waistband. The ass
cheeks had no extra covering, just the paper-thin "onion skin"
material. Rachel examined several pairs, noticing how the cup was removable
and snapped securely to the inside front of the waistband. She thought it
worked as a flimsy, skimpy mini jock so the wearer would be decent. Again,
Rachel selected a white pair, knowing that if this thin, white material got
wet in any way, Robbie's dick and ass would surely show through. She never
asked him to try them on; she wanted him to stay in the embarrassing
bikinis.

"Robbie, let's check some T-shirts for you." She looked up to notice they
were in the very front of the store. "Oh, there they are, near the front
display windows. Come along, dear." The T-shirt display was right inside
the huge bay window. And the passers-by stopped and stared at Robbie as
Rachel pretended not to notice. She had him linger there for quite a while
as she pretended to browse. Then, it was off to the checkout.

"I shall take these two items, the yellow bikini he's wearing and these
Onion Skins." She told the clerk, a salesman she knew, who just called her
"Miss Rachel." She watched Robbie react when he said, "Miss Rachel." There
was none. Robbie was too concerned and nervous about the bikinis he was
wearing and wanted to get back into the baggy cotton trunks he had walked
in with.

"Would you like to pay in the normal manner, Miss Rachel?" She nodded. The
clerk beamed an approving smile.

"Robbie, go to the changing room, remove your bikini, and wait." She stared
at him momentarily to ensure he understood this request was a command. Once
again, "Wait" registered with him. But this time, the purpose was to give
the clerk his reward, or "pay." He was too embarrassed to look up when the
cubicle curtain was pulled open. He recognized the lower half of the
clerk's body and saw the bulge in the front of his trousers. In this
stance, Robbie presented his dick to the clerk. The clerk fondled and
rubbed every inch of this hunky teen's body. He licked him all over,
including his dick balls and ass crack, and asshole. He was one happy
clerk. He left the cubicle and went into the office to beat off.

Rachel knew the clerk had been well paid by the erection he was showing in
his trousers as he left the cubicle. Robbie got no such relief. He heard
Rachel's voice call out, "OK, sweetie, get dressed and come on out. It's
time to go." He looked around the cubicle for the knee-length shorts he had
walked in with but could not see them. He wondered if he was in the right
dressing room, and he was. There was no sign of his baggy, heavy cotton
shorts. The only thing he had to wear was that tiny, obscene bright yellow
bikini. And just then, he realized that that is what Rachel meant for him
to put back on by her "get dressed" command. So, he did as best he could,
trying to get the back panel of the bikini to cover his ass more
completely. As he emerged, Rachel looked at him in the undersized bikini
and shook her head. "No, sweetie, fix your private parts as Mama showed
you. You'll crush your balls if you try to sit down with your equipment all
bunched up under you. Now, do as I showed you ... or do you want me to fix
it for you again?"

Robbie did not want Rachel, who he still thought of as his mother, to
fondle his dick, especially in public. Robbie wanted to turn his back on
her and fix it himself, but he already knew better than to turn his back on
"Mistress Rachel." So, she stuck her hand in the front bikini pouch, pulled
his still erect dick fully upward, and pointed it to his right hip. Then
she reached inside again and maneuvered his balls, bringing them forward
and separating them so one was on each side of his dick. Robbie could not
help but glimpse into the mirror and see just how nasty and obscene he
looked. Then he stared open-mouthed in horror as he now noticed what
everyone else had noticed earlier. Because the waistband strap of the
bikini was so narrow, the tip of his fat dick could now be seen slightly
above and below that strap. He was actually showing his dick in public. He
knew he was not allowed to ask a question or to make a comment without
permission, so he just pointed at the tip of his dick, displaying an
intensely nervous look. "Oh, see, now you are wearing that properly. You
are such a fast learner, my dear sweet Robbie. I was going to have you wear
the Onion Skin shorts home, but you look so perfect in these I know you'll
want to wear them home instead. Oh, my dear, sweet Robbie, you are finally
learning to dress properly. And everyone can see that."

It may seem that getting a haircut and buying a "swimsuit" and a pair of
jogging shorts is not worth driving thirty miles to another town. Still,
Mistress Rachel and her "charge" had a very full and important "training
day." Rachel seldom overtly expressed the joy she felt in Robbie's
submissive behavior because she wanted him to always feel the need to try
harder, obey without hesitation, and please her more. But Mistress Rachel
was extremely pleased. She was ecstatic and could not wait to get home to
tell her husband, Matt, all about their adventure.

Rachel escorted Robbie onto the downtown street, walking away from where
she parked. They strolled quite a ways, with, at least, Rachel enjoying the
stroll. She obviously was wandering down the main streets, enjoying making
a public spectacle of her former son in his bright yellow bikini. She
especially liked the dangling strings hanging on each of his hips, which
made the bikini string look girlish. Each time he stepped down from a curb
or up to a sidewalk, his dick would pop free and stick out. He would
immediately poke it back under the tiny waistband strap, catching the tip
of his dick behind the narrow band of fabric that was jokingly, the
waistband. It was more like a "waist string." Rachel had an idea. She was a
treasure trove of ideas, or, as most might call them, schemes. She guided
Robbie to a nearby sidewalk ice cream cart and smiled each time she glanced
over to see him re-tuck his hard dick halfway back inside his bikini
pouch. Rachel ordered two triple-scoop ice cream cones, which were
super-size waffle cones. She handed them both to Robbie, who took one in
each hand while she paid. Robbie looked at her puzzled, and she explained
he was probably super hungry, so she got him two huge cones.

In front of the ice cream man and the few others around them, she
instructed Robbie, like a little child, how to eat his ice cream. "Sweetie,
we are a long way from the car, so as we walk back, I want you to lick each
of the cones, not bite into them. Focus on the cones. On a warm day like
this, they will soon start to drip all over you. So be careful, and lick
each one alternately." Robbie thought this was all very weird, but he was
thankful for the cool treat on a day that had started overcast and had now
become relatively warm. She spoke again, knowing everyone was eyeing his
well-toned body, dressed only in not much more than a G-string. "Honey,
they're starting to drip all over your hands. I'll never know why you
wanted TWO cones, but if you make a mess, I will spank you good, right here
and now, so focus on those cones and lick up every drip."

Robbie nodded, bringing one up to his face and holding the other down at
his waist. But that was not what Rachel wanted. She told him to hold both
up near his face so he could be ready to catch the drips. Her purpose was
three-fold: She wanted him to concentrate on the dripping cones as a
distraction. Two, she wanted him to keep his eyes up and not look down
where he would notice that his hard dick sprung out of the confines of his
bikini. And third, she wanted both his hands away from his waist, so
passers-by had a good, unobstructed view of his big hard dick.

It was so hilarious, at least to onlookers. There was this hunky
18-year-old, muscle-toned, six feet tall man with a buzz haircut wearing
what, at first glance, seemed like a woman's skimpy yellow bikini. Worst,
at a second glance, his big, rigid pole was sticking out from his groin,
pointing upward to the side. WORST yet, he had his hands in front of his
face, licking one dripping ice cream cone and then the other, as he
appeared unaware of his obscene state of dress, walked down the main street
of the quaint little town of Hardington.

A young couple approached Rachael and said, "Your boy looks so cute. May we
take a photo of him?"

"Oh, of course. My dear, sweet Robbie would love to be filmed." Then to
Robbie, "Robbie, put your cones down and stand with these lovely people."
And Robbie had to swallow hard and not object, though he hated being seen,
let alone photographed, in such an obscene... skimpy, tiny,
indecent... nothing.

"OK, give me your cell so I can photograph all three of you," Rachel
said. "Now stand back in front of the restaurant and smile."

Rachel was so proud, not of Robbie, but of herself, for manipulating this
entire scene. In his new bright yellow bikini, adorable Robbie looked like
a deer in the headlights as a young couple stared at him. At least his dick
went down some. The couple and Rachael exchanged thank yous and parted.

His deflated dick did not do it for her or his training. "Robbie, pick up
your ice cream cones." He did. "Oh, and let me adjust you again." She
inserted her hands, front and back, into his bikini and pretended to adjust
his dick and balls, but really to tease them to erection further. Robbie
was busy licking up the quickly dripping ice cream as Rachael
tickled-teased him to the point where his hard dick was poking out above
his waistband. Now, she was satisfied. She led him further down the
street. Then, it dawned on her, does Robbie know how ridiculous he looks
walking on a public street in a girlie stringy thing with his dick greeting
the world? She needed to do something different if he was not feeling the
public humiliation, which was the whole purpose of their shopping trip
today.

"Robbie dear, I hope that you are enjoying our stroll." He did not know
what she meant as he quickly licked one drippy cone and then the other. "I
mean, I don't have a problem with you wanting to flaunt yourself, and as I
see all these folks with big smiles, I guess they do not either." He was
focused on the new drips running down his hands, down his wrists and
arms. He was not aware that more people were keeping up with his pace. It
was not difficult; they were not walking very fast, but no one passed
him. They were creating a group around him. He finally noticed some of
these people were smiling and others outright laughing. He hadn't a clue
why, and he followed the direction of the gaze of one guy, which caused him
to look down at his bright yellow bikini and ... "OH, MY GOD!"

He could not believe his dick was sticking out. His hands were unavailable,
so he squeezed his thighs together, trying to hide his dick from view. "Oh,
god, Miss, oh, Miss ... Please! I need to stop and fix this!" He was in a
panic. "Please miss, please hold these for a minute," referring to the
cones.

"What is your problem, sweetie? I don't want to hold those sticky, dripping
cones. Look how they've dripped all over you - not just your hands, but now
on your chest and even your thighs. My dear, sweet Robbie, you want Mama to
get her dress all messed up, too?"

He only repeated, "Oh please ... oh ... please ... dear Miss...!"

Then, with a slightly sterner tone, "Look, if you don't lick that mess off
your hands and lick those cones so they stop dripping, I'm not letting you
in the car. I just had it all cleaned. You can take the bus home." Then she
added a cruel touch of humiliation. "If you want to walk all over town with
your penis sticking out just because you think everyone should see it, I
don't care. You are embarrassing me. And why in the world did you insist on
buying that ridiculously tiny bikini?

Rachael stopped walking, and the group gathered around the two. She turned
to Robbie and spoke loudly for all to hear. "As I think of it, I think it's
for a girl. Why did you insist on getting this girl's G-string? I should
have bought the bra and panties you wanted also. Don't you know these are
underwear, and not for the public street? But I suppose you are old enough
to do things your way." Robbie was in shock. He just heard his "mother"
tell everyone that he wanted to dress up in women's lingerie and parade
down the street. If there had been an open manhole, he would have jumped
into it.

"I love you, son, even when you want to parade in public like this, with
your big stiff penis sticking out. And you don't even have the decency to
cover your junk up with your hands."

That's precisely what Robbie wanted to do. Still, he knew what his Mistress
wanted, so he kept his hands up and thrust his pelvis out, making his dick
as prominent as he could... to please Rachael.

Then, for the audience's sake, she pretended to calm down, "Look, sweetie,
I'm not passing judgment on you, if you want to wear that tiny
... itsy-bitsy ... G-string ... Well, that is fine with me. And if you want
everyone gawking at you as a public spectacle, that's fine too."

"Please? Oh god ... please? Please?" were all the words he could utter to
get his mother ... his Mistress... to allow him to cover up. Robbie
squeezed his thighs tighter together and wriggled his hips, hoping that his
gyrations would cause his dick to get pushed back under the bikini
material. He was so embarrassed and tried so hard to will his dick to make
it deflate, as well as retreat from view. Suddenly, there was a roar of
laughter. So, he looked down and was in a state of absolute horror. All his
wriggling of his thighs and shaking of his hips had caused his balls to be
pushed out, too. Not only was his dick now fully out, but his big, loose
balls were hanging out. His juggling movements had merely caused that tiny
front patch of material to give way, and it had accidentally worked fully
to one side.

"Now look at you! What am I going to do with you, honey? You've been trying
to push your balls out and finally managed it! Well, at least you're proof
our family has nothing to be ashamed of." There was some applause and a few
catcalls. "OK, I give up. Yes, you may walk to the car like that. Can we
now go so we can minimize the embarrassment of all these fine folks?"
Robbie hung his head in shame and stepped behind Rachel to block the view
of his dick and balls from passers-by.

"No, you don't. Get in front of me so I can see that you don't drip ice
cream all over my new dress. And please keep licking."

If Robbie could have just been rid of those two ice cream cones, he could
have quickly reached down and tucked his private parts away. But that was
not to be.

Finally, they reached the parking garage and then the car. Rachel got in
but did not let Robbie in right. "First, toss that mess away. We passed a
trash can at the entrance to the garage. Drop those things in there."
Robbie hurried to the receptacle and discarded the cones, then rushed back
to the car and just stood there, waiting for permission to enter. But
still, Rachel did not give him the nod.

Instead, she looked him up and down and sighed, "Robbie, you are one big
mess! Here, take these and clean yourself off before you ruin my seat
covers." She handed him several wet wipes, and he used them on himself. But
he had drips of ice cream all over him, on his chest, his thighs, his feet,
even on and under his bikini, where drips from his belly had run
down. Robbie did the best he could do. He just wanted to get into the car
and out of public view. After all, he was wearing nothing but the sting
thing, not even shoes. Rachel had forced him to give those to a teenager
who had admired them. She was still not satisfied. "Here, use these too,"
she said, handing him several more wet wipes. This time, he felt like he
had managed to wipe his skin completely clean. He even wiped the bikini
front, making a large wet spot - well, as large as a three-inch triangular
piece of material could have.

"Please miss, please? May I get in now?" Robbie started to reach for the
passenger door handle.

"No, look at that bikini; it's not only wet, but I'm sure it is all
sticky. Just take it off." Robbie looked like a deer caught in the
headlights. Other shoppers had gravitated around the car, gawking at
Robbie. He knew he could not disobey. Rachel had already threatened to
leave him there and make him take the bus home. He didn't know whether she
was serious or not. Robbie looked around at more than a dozen people,
chuckling at him. Robbie thought he could do this very quickly. He pulled
off the bikini and offered it to Rachel without knowing what else to
do. After all, she had bought it. People were taking photos and videos of
him bare-ass naked.

"Please, Miss Rachel, may I get in now, please?"

"No, dear, that's a sticky mess too. Just put it in that same trash can by
the entrance. Make sure you walk. I don't want you to slip on this smooth
concrete floor with your bare feet." Rachel smiled.

He went quickly, trying to cover up his crotch in his hurried walk
mode. Rachel could see him drop the yellow bikini into the trash. A couple
of teen girls were there and giggled in disbelief. He acknowledged them
with a nod, then quickly returned to the car. Rachel was so proud of
Robbie. But she could never tell him that. He could never know how pleased
she, or Matt, was with him. Now standing fully naked just outside the front
passenger door, Robbie waited.

"Robbie, I wish you would just obey me. No hesitation. Just do what I tell
you."

Robbie was thinking, "Please, Mom, scold me later. Right now, please just
fucking let me the car!" but, of course, he was silent.

Rachel continued. "Well, you did OK, but on the next trip here, I want you
to strip naked in the public mall and yell out, `I'M A PERVERT!' And then
beat off. I think that would be so entertaining." Did she really mean that?
Wouldn't he get arrested? How could she do that to her son? Or ... maybe
she could do that to her slave! Robbie had a lot to think about. His dick
was never soft. "OK, come on and get inside before you get me arrested,"
she said complainingly. No one had to tell Robbie twice. He hopped in
immediately, finally safe! He was naked as the day he was born, sitting
there in the car seat, with his dick bobbing and nodding, waiting for
Rachel to put the car in gear and take off home.

But instead of starting the car, she pushed a button, and a familiar motor
sound started. The top of the car was retracting back. It was, of course, a
convertible. When the top was fully retracted, she adjusted the mirrors,
started up, and pulled out of her space. She slowly drove to the garage
exit and got in a short line to pay for parking. Robbie crouched down as
she approached. "Oh Robbie, don't be such a baby. Straighten up
properly. Play with your dick - it's not big enough - you might as well
enjoy it. And don't stop pumping it until I tell you to." Then, briefly
pausing, "Or, I'll put you on the bus." Immediately Robbie grabbed his dick
and rubbed it up and down nonstop.

As it became her turn to pull up to the window, she greeted the young man
in his early 20s with a big smile. His name tag said "Toby."

"Hi, Toby, what's the fee for today?" as if she did not already know. Toby
stared at the well-toned, naked teen in the front, playing with his
dick. Toby was motionless with his mouth open.

Then, "Why is he naked, ma'am? ... And ... and ... you know...?"

"Oh, my dear sweet Robbie and I were here to shop for clothes, but he did
not like them. He said he'd rather be naked. And he actually stripped naked
as we walked back to the car." Toby was in shock, trying to think of what
to say.

"But how come he is ... you know ... with his thing?" Toby nervously asked.

"Oh, well, he ..." she stopped and looked at Robbie pumping his dick,
"Robbie, why don't you explain why you are doing that?" Robbie was
puzzled. "Don't be shy, dear. You told me you noticed Toby before and
thought he was hot-looking. Go ahead, explain yourself."

"I ... I ... I saw you and thought you ... you ... were hot, and I got hard
... and I find you so sexy ... and ... and ..."

"Oh Robbie, stop messing around and just tell him what you told me a few
minutes ago ...That you wanted to ask him out on a date. Remember?" And
what do you want to do to him?" Toby's face turned beet red, and he could
not believe what she said.

As Robbie pumped his dick, being careful not to climax, he told Toby, "I
... thought ... I thought you were hot and ... and ... I wanted to ask you
out on a date ... I really just ... just ... wanted you to ... to ..." He
paused. Rachel just gave him a deadly look to signal that he needed to obey
her wishes, no matter how embarrassing. "To have you fuck me ... I mean
... my ass ... I mean my asshole. And I would beg you to ... to let me suck
your dick ..."

In mouth-opened shock, Toby pressed the button to lift the motorized gate
arm in a daze, not even bothering to ask for the parking fee. He was too
weirded out. Rachel waved and pulled the car onto the street, and Robbie
slouched down, naked, in the front passenger seat with the convertible top
down. True, people walking on the sidewalk would assume he only had his
shirt off. But people in other cars, especially higher SUVs and in all
kinds of trucks, would notice that he was naked if they glanced down at
him. Rachel was so very pleased. She was just ecstatic ... inside.

"Mother, may I stop playing with my dick! PLEASE!" Robbe silently screamed
in his head. As if Rachel could hear his thoughts, she looked at him with
displeasure. Her "job" was to push Robbie ... continually. "What did I tell
you back in the garage?" Robbie had no idea what she was referring to. "I
told you to play with your dick, and don't stop until I tell you."

"But ... Miss ... Miss, I am ... I don't have any ... I mean, people will
see me." Robbie pleaded in a whisper, even though no one could hear
him. Rachel said nothing further. She did not even look at him except to
notice at a glance that he was still pumping his big fat dick.

"And sit up straight! Always use good posture!" She approached an
intersection where the light had just turned amber. She could have driven
through it easily but slowed to let the light change to red. A tall van
slowed and then stopped in her passenger side lane. It was a VW bus, and
its driver had his window down. He was talking to his lady
passenger. "HONK. HONK." Rachel beeped the loud horn to get the guy's
attention.

"Sir! Sir!" She got his attention, and he looked down at her as if to ask
what she wanted. "Do you know how to get to Elm Avenue?" It was a street
that she knew was some way away.

"Oh, Elm, yes, I do." Then he noticed Robbie was naked in the front seat
and beating his dick. Rachel pretended not to notice him, but the van
driver was shocked. His passengers, a couple of kids, looked out the back
windows and saw him beating off.

"Oh, please, sir, don't be bothered by my son. My dear, sweet Robbie can't
help himself sometimes. Just ignore him." Rachel

"OK... well. Ah ... you go four or five blocks straight ahead and ... then
... you ... ah ... make a left on Main Street and then a right, two blocks
after that."

"So I go down here a few blocks until I get to Main Street and then turn
right?" She was mixing up the instructions on purpose to keep the
conversation going. The lady passenger soon stuck her headway across the
driver's lap and practically pushed it out of the window. She did not miss
a thing. She smiled at Robbie.

"Don't be rude, dear," Rachel told Robbie, "Wave hello to the nice people
with your hand that is not preoccupied." And with great embarrassment,
which showed broadly across his face, he waved "hi" to the woman, the
driver, and the children in the back. Rachel heard Robbie moan a couple of
times with erotic humiliation, then the light changed, and they all took
off.

Rachel easily found her way to the freeway. She'd been to and from this
town many times. They were now headed for home at a good clip. She only
altered her speed when she approached a slower-moving truck. During those
times, she would slow down to match its speed and pace so that Robbie was
clearly in the direct downward view of each truck driver she sidled up
to. Rachel would notice that each time she paced a track, Robbie would moan
uncontrollably, and his body trembled as he was forced to expose and
exhibit himself to strangers. Most truck drivers honked, some howled, and a
few stared down. Robbie never stopped pumping his dick, though he did learn
very quickly to barely touch it, or he would have caused himself to
climax. It was clear to him that his climax was unacceptable behavior - at
least not without permission.

Few words were spoken between them; none were necessary. Robbie was so
relieved to return home. When Rachel pulled into their driveway and then
turned off the engine, she finally told Robbie to stop playing with his
dick. They exited the car, and Robbie followed her to the door, his dick
sticking right out and preceding him.

As they entered the house, Jamar was there to greet them. "Jamar, may I
have a photo of your slave? I'd like to show it to my friends at my women's
club meeting tomorrow." Rachel was just outwardly acknowledging that Robbie
belonged to her now only son.

"Sure Mom, gladly." He took out his cell phone and took the photo as she
posed with Robbie at the door.

[This is photo is in my photo album on GayTies.com. Just log-in to this
website (or join if you are not a member yet- it's free) then click on
"Find Member" and type in my name, "Darkforce," then click on my photo
albums. This exact photo is there. It's such a simple but powerful
image. AND it is NOT the type of photo you are expecting. Let me know what
you think.]

He wanted to go up to his room and see what his stepdad had done to
it. When they left the house that morning, he had been told that Matt would
rearrange his bedroom to make it appropriate for his new sub lifestyle."

Robbie went down a short hall and saw his door open. As he entered, he
realized there was no door; it had been removed. Robbie wondered if his dad
was going to put in a new door. Strange, he thought. He looked around and
found most of his furniture missing. The chest of drawers that contained
his socks, underwear, T-shirts, sweaters, etc., was gone. He turned around,
and his computer desk was gone too ... as well as his computer. A small
hanging cabinet with a couple of exposed shelves used to be just to the
right of the desk. That was gone. He used those small shelves to plop his
key, wallet, and cell phone on whenever he came home. But ... now missing
were also his keys, wallet, cell phone, and other personal pocket items he
kept there. His high school ring, loose change, and the key to the family
mailbox ... even his good luck charm and some mints for bad breath were all
gone.

At least his bed was still there, but it only had a bare mattress with no
sheets or blankets. He saw he still had a pillow. Thank God for small
favors. In place of his desk and the other furniture that had been removed,
there was a simple folding card table and one folding chair. Other than the
bed, those two pieces of furniture were all he had in his room. Next to the
bed used to be a tall bookcase that had held his many schoolbooks, as well
as other books and magazines, but the entire case was missing. His mouth
stayed open in awe as he turned further around and found that his private
bathroom, which adjoined his bedroom, had also had the door removed. He
could see inside that the shower curtain was also gone. Something about the
word "curtain" caused him to turn back and look at his windows. His room
had two large windows looking out to the houses across the street. There
were no longer any curtains, pull-down shades, or anything to block the
view of anyone looking into his room. Robbie stood way back, not wanting to
be seen by people on the sidewalk or in the homes across the street.

Jamar poked his head into Robbie's room. "Like your new digs, bro?" Robbie
just stared out the window, naked, wondering what people saw from the
outside. " "Let me see what you look like pressed against the window,"
Jamar said. "After all, you need to get used to it."

With great hesitation, he walked naked to the large window, "Hey, you
asshole." Jamar threw a black jockstrap, "Here, put this on first." He
did. "Now, do a little dance and show all our neighbors what a pathetic
exhibitionist you are." <br>

Robbie did. "Now, stand on the actual window ledge." He complied. Now, when
you turn around and ass the world your ass, I want you to spread your
cheeks apart so everyone can see your slave asshole." Robbie felt the total
weight of zero privacy. It was sinking in, little by little. Then... as he
looked out the window, a horrid thought washed over him - his car, his
precious car - was that gone too? It was not in the driveway, so he looked
out the window and up and down the street.

Just then, Matt and Rachel entered his room and saw their Jock-strapped son
in a panic. "AT EASE." Yes, that was a specific command. Robbie responded
as instructed. He stripped off his jock, dropped to his knees, placed his
hands on his thighs, and displayed his upward-pointing boner as if to offer
a salute to anyone present.

"That's right, boy," Matt said. Robbie had a confused look. His forehead
was scrunched up, and he seemed ready to explode with questions. "Boy, I
know you have a lot to ask. This is a huge change for you; you must
understand what is happening here. So, until we change the rule, you may
speak to ask questions."

"Mom, Dad... I mean ... Mistress and Sir," Robbie almost exploded, "My car?
Where is my car? I don't see it anywhere. I ..."

"Oh, that. Let's take care of that little formality right now, just to get
it out of the way." Matt was holding an envelope and pulled a form out of
it. Robbie noticed it as the pink slip to his car. "Come over to your new
card table-desk and sign this." Robbie stood up, confused. "You are giving
your car to Jamar?"

"Your brother's car has been having a lot of problems," Matt
explained. "And you don't need one anymore, so ... sign here." Matt pointed
to the line on which Robbie had to sign. In a daze, he signed his
name. "I'm sure if you treat your brother well, he will be glad to drive
you to places at times. But it is up to him, so be very nice to him. As for
going to and from school, we will worry about that in a couple of months
when your summer vacation ends. If we allow you to go, we'll likely just
have you take the bus. But school is not a pressing issue right now."

"But... but... what about my laptop? I need it for emails and the Internet,
even if it's summer vacation." Robbie respectfully argued.

"Actually, you don't," Matt told him. Robbie's life was becoming less and
less ... ah ... human.

"Nor do you need a wallet, cell phone, or any other personal items that
free people commonly have. Your life just got so much easier." Robbie
slumped in his naked stance and was in shock. "My car?" he whined to
himself. It would take several days for him to realize just how meager and
limited his new lifestyle would become.

Jamar had a big smile on his face. "Mom, Dad, thank you so much for my new
car!" More and more, Robbie was coming to grips with his loss of power,
place, dignity, position, independence, family... everything. Robbie was
slowly coming to grips with the fact that his new Black boss, his adopted
brother whom he had treated so meanly in the past, was now in charge of
him.

"Yes, Jamar, he just signed it over to you. Here you go, honey." And Matt
handed him the pink slip to his only son.

Robbie interrupted his brother; he was not normally rude to him, but
... his car? "He got my car?" He said aloud. That was a little too much to
take. He yielded to a burst of anger, "Jamar! Out of my room! Now!"

"Hold on, boy. Whoa, calm down!" Matt said firmly, "In the first place,
this is no longer your room; it's just the place where we let you
sleep. You've noticed there are no doors. That's because anyone can come in
here anytime they want." Matt was not yelling. He knew this transition
would be difficult for Robbie, so he talked firmly but unemotionally and in
a low tone.

"Now, to help you out, I will give you some quiet time. But first, do you
need to use the toilet to piss or shit?"

Robbie said, "Both."

"That's fine, just hurry it up." Robbie did not know what he meant; he was
waiting for them all to leave. "Go now. We don't have all day," Matt said a
little louder. Robbie went into the bathroom and sat on the toilet. He was
so embarrassed trying to take a shit with his family in the other room, and
there was no door to the bathroom; he just sat there in a state of
humiliation for a while, looking at them.

Then Matt told his wife, "Honey, come here a minute, let me get your
opinion." Matt, Rachel, and Jamar walked into Robbie's tiny bathroom. It
was a tight fit, especially with naked Robbie on the toilet, but Matt
wanted to ask Rachael what other changes should be made there. "You see,
the shower curtain is down, but I've left the rod up, thinking we might
want to use it for bondage for the boy, but on the other hand, it is not
very strong, so I was thinking..."

All of a sudden, Robbie unintentionally let out a few loud trumpeted farts
in the process of taking his shit. Robbie covered his face with the palms
of his hands and was turning red. He nervously shook and mumbled, "I'm so
sorry, so very sorry," whining like a little boy. Then, it hit
him. Whispering to himself, "I don't have anything anymore."

To be continued...



Oh my God! Do you have a treat coming in chapter 4. I swear, I have never
written a story with more intense public humiliation than what you will
read starting in the next chapter. Now... the story gets EXTREME!