Date: Sat, 22 Mar 2003 15:49:32 -0000
From: Gadfly <cdngadfly@usa.net>
Subject: Crossroads, Ch.6

NOTE: Comments are appreciated (including critiques) to
cdngadfly@usa.net or ICQ#32364537

6. Soccer Balls

"My, aren't we the shy ones?" John beamed as we came around
the edge of the house clutching our crotches. It occurred to
me that we probably looked about the same as John and Eric
had earlier in the week, when their arms were not being held.
Except -- we had some hair. Some. And it was green!

Then Eric surprised us both by bringing his hands out from
behind his back with a jockstrap in each. "Jeez, you guys
look so grateful to have these jockstraps, maybe we don't
need any more kit for you." Duh -- he was right -- I was
relieved to see that jockstrap. Walking the streets in just a
jockstrap felt good right now, but would have been
unthinkable yesterday. These guys were fucking with my head
in a big way!

Holding up a couple of pairs of shorts, John looked at Mike.
"Mikey, I'd never force one of my family out onto the street
naked. At least not from home." He paused and stared at Mike
before looking my way. "Jeffy, on the other hand..." He threw
me some shorts and stuck his tongue out. Now I was confused
again. Am I about to be the scapegoat?

As we donned the jocks and shorts, they each produced T-
shirts -- a smallish one for Mike and a longer one for me
that came half-way down my shorts.

"You're going to be playing soccer with us. Carry on being
good sports about this and we might go a little easier on
you. Embarrass us again in front of our friends and you'll
regret it, big-time. Just go along for the ride, and we'll
all be even on this." John looked almost hopeful or
expectant, except for the 'regret it big-time'. What could he
be thinking? We were at his mercy. He must want something
more of us. We headed off, as I continued to puzzle over his
expression.

When we got to the schoolyard soccer pitch, there were
already five guys there. I vaguely recognised them as friends
of John's, all about his age -- school chums, I guess. Mike
and I stayed off to the side as John and Eric exchanged
greetings with their friends. We couldn't hear what they were
saying, but I did notice fingers pointed in our direction.
Another kid turned up on the pitch and John motioned us to
join the group.

John addressed the crowd, "Eric and I think we should do
something a little different today. We'd like to play strip
soccer, with Mike and Jeff in goal. Each time there's a goal;
the goalie pays a forfeit. The winning team gets to take
penalty kicks at the losing goalie. Are you all game?"

Mike and I nodded, but the others had questions. "What
happens if the goalie has no clothes left?" "Why are the
goalies the only ones to strip." "Do they get their clothes
back after the game?"

"How about the scorer gets to spank the goalie? Of course, we
have to score the goals, and the goalies will be trying to
stop us." John smiled at us and we smiled back. Devious -- we
were going to strip ourselves if we messed up. But, we did
have a chance.

"Mike and Jeff are doing it 'cause they're good sports. It's
my birthday tomorrow, and they owe me a few favours. We'll
decide about the clothes later. Can we pick teams now? We
have to be home before five, and we want some time for fun
after the game." There were smiles and nods all around. Two
teams formed quickly around Eric and John.

I was on Eric's team, meaning that John would be leading the
attack on my clothing. As I took my place in net, I realised
I have never played in goal before and hadn't played soccer
in a few years. As stupid as those exercises made me feel,
they did help me get limbered up; I was about to need all the
help I could get. Would I be the only one defending my net?
My team had little incentive to help other than being able to
kick balls at Mike if they won. This could be a high-scoring
game, because I don't think Mike has any more skill in a
soccer net than I do.

As I was musing, three more kids appeared. Two were about the
same age as John and one looked about ten. John called out,
"we're playing strip the goalie. Do you want to be the ref,
Steve?"

The youngest kid said, "cool. Any special rules?" Eric
quickly repeated the rules, and Steve's companions each
joined a team. Steve wasted no time, and the ball was in
play.

Here it comes -- the ball was headed for my net. I managed to
get in front of it and it bounced off my chest, only to come
back twice as fast. I got my leg in front of it, and it went
off down the field. That was a lucky escape. My team snagged
the ball, and Mike was not so lucky.

Steve pointed at the scorer. "Tim, you can take something off
the goalie."

Tim walked over to Mike and looked him up and down. "Hey, one
of his arms is hairy and the other isn't. Take off your
shirt."

Mike blushed, and started to remove his tight T-shirt. He
stopped when Steve called out, "No, Tim, you take it off, not
Mike."

Tim looked confused for a minute. I guess he thought Steve
meant that Tim was to remove his own shirt. Mike ended the
confusion by bending over at the waist and putting his arms
straight out in front, saying, "ready, Tim." Watching John, I
saw him smile, but this time, it looked more like a smile of
pride than of nastiness. He really did want us to be good
sports about this. Hmmm.

Tim pulled the shirt off Mike. It took a while, because it
was so tight. Mike straightened up and Tim put both hands on
Mike's chest, one on each side, confirming that the right
side was hairless. "Why did you only shave half?" Tim looked
puzzled.

Mike chuckled. I'm sure he wasn't sincere, but it didn't
show. "Not enough time to finish the job. Do you like it?" I
glanced nervously at John and Eric, but both were
expressionless. This is weird -- first they humiliate us and
then they want to play it down? Steve calling for everyone to
get playing again broke my confusion.

The game went on for a while after this. Without a watch, I
couldn't be sure how long. Mike and I each stopped a few weak
shots and I began to think that we might come out of this
without losing too many clothes and too much of our dignity.
Moving to block a shot from John, I got out of position, John
passed to one of his team-mates and I had let my first one
in.

"You turn to take something off Jeff, Alex," came the call
from Steve, our ref.

Alex came over and, to my surprise, grabbed the legs of my
shorts and pulled them down to my knees. His grin was nasty
as he told me to get on my back to let him finish the job. I
got down, and put my legs up. Although this exposed my ass, I
figured that I had to be co-operative, or I'd lose my dignity
along with my shorts.

Alex pulled off my shorts. "Hey, Jeff's got one shaved leg."
He flipped my feet towards my head, and I didn't fight him.
"All the way up to his bum!" He stared and the others came
over for a look.

Steve yelled out, "stop showing off, Jeff, and let's get this
game going again." I stood, and my shirt fell back into
place. I wasn't any more exposed than I had been with my
shorts on. The next goal was going to leave one of us in just
a jock. I wasn't sure how long we'd been playing, but we
hadn't stopped for a break yet, so we must still be in the
first half.

The ball came hurtling toward me. I quickly switched my
attention back to the game and surprised myself by actually
catching the ball. I had to leap to catch it, and must have
given quite a show as my shirt went up with my arms. Still,
better to have the shirt than not. But, I did get a bit
envious of Mike, who still had his shorts.

I missed the next shot, and Steve directed Peter to remove
more of my kit. Peter had a mischievous gleam and told me to
lie down. Stunned, I complied, as I realised that it was not
my shirt I was about to lose, but my jockstrap. Peter flipped
my shirt up and gave me a swat on my rump as he told me to
flip over. Eric yelled out, "no fair! You can't spank and
strip. You'll have to give him a spanking, since you
started."

Peter looked over to Steve, who said, "quite right. Those
were the rules. You can give him nine swats, as you've
already done one."

I looked over my shoulder at Peter, who looked disappointed
and then shrugged. "Spread your legs," he said.

Peter kneeled between my legs, and flipped my shirt up to
almost my shoulders, laying me bare except for the straps of
the jock. Peter did not hit overly hard, and the spanking
took little time. I'm sure I was nicely pinked. As I waited
for further instructions, Peter spread my cheeks, leaned
forward and blew on my crack. "That should cool you off. You
can get up now."

I felt a little flushed, but otherwise no worse for the
experience. I didn't know what to make of Peter blowing on my
ass, but I can't say it was unpleasant. I would have to be
more careful, or I would lose the jock for sure next time.

Despite my care, Peter scored on me again a few minutes
later. This time he told me to hoist my shirt so he could get
at my jock, and pulled it down to my calves. There was a
gasp, and Peter looked up as he heard it -- straight into my
crotch. He fell back on his ass and laughed. "You're green!"
Damn, I had forgotten about the coloured pubes.

"Get on with it, Peter, or we'll do you next," yelled Steve.
Peter told me to lay back on the grass on my back so he could
finish the job. I did and he did. We both got up and play
resumed. Mike fielded a few shots, as did I, but mine were
mostly high and weak. Of course, I flashed everyone every
time I jumped for the shots, and there was a lot of smiling
from John's team. I wondered whether I'd lose the shirt next
or be in for more spankings. Fortunately for me, the next
goal was against Mike. That made it 3-2, so I was still
behind, and lined up for whatever they had in mind for the
losing goalie.

A scrawny kid called Dan had scored. He went over to Mike and
yanked Mike's shorts down. Mike obediently lifted one foot
and then the other. Rather than resuming the game, Steve
yelled, "break for five minutes before the second half." At
least we still had some covering left. Mike was a bit worse
off, although I flashed a lot -- I was OK when not leaping.

I went up to John and told him I needed a pee before we
started playing again. He pointed at a wood grove off to the
side. I headed off and Mike came along. I whispered to Mike
that this was not as awful as I thought it would be. Mike
agreed, but said that it wasn't over yet, and we might be
being set up for something. I thought about this, eventually
agreed, but added that we may as well play along, unless he
had a better idea. Mike shook his head. When we got back to
the pitch, I realised that Mike and I had just had our first
conversation in well over a day.

"You guys are so cool." Peter's comment brought a murmur of
agreement from the others. I didn't know what to make of
this; should I be proud, or was I being set up for a bigger
fall? I looked to Peter and then Mike.

Peter continued, "John told us that you're letting them get
even for taking their suits at the pool this week and you're
going to help with his party tomorrow. Wish my brother were
like you. Good luck on the swim team tryouts." That might
explain the partial shave, but not the green pubes unless
that was for tomorrow's party.

At that, Steve said that time was up and got the game moving
again. Both Mike and I made some good saves, and it began to
look like we might not lose any more. Steve called a foul on
Alex, and gave Eric a penalty shot. Eric scored, and Mike
lost his jock. The score was now even, 3-3, but I still had
my shirt, because of the spanking.

Mike seemed unfazed by his nakedness. I began to think that
everyone was being sincere and that, although they were
trying to strip us, there was no attack on our dignity. Mike
was a bit comical, flopping around every time he made a save.
I must be the same, with this peek-a-boo T-shirt getup. The
play continued, both sides trying to score, but Mike and I
were in good form, considering neither of us had played
soccer for a few years, and then not as goalies.

It was not to be. John made a shot that got past me, and he
told me to bend over. He went around behind me, so I wasn't
sure whether I was getting another spanking or losing my
shirt. He flipped the shirt up in back, and paused, to
prolong the suspense, but then pulled the shirt off the rest
of the way. There couldn't be too much time left in the game,
and I was now the losing goalie.

Surprise, surprise. Dan scored again, and Mike got ten swats.
A few minutes later, another kid scored on Mike, and I heard
Steve identify him as Nick. Another ten swats. Again, they
were more playful than hard. After a few more minutes, Steve
announced that the game was over and my team had won 5-4.
John took over again. He told Mike to face into the net and
bend over. Everyone but Mike and Steve lined up -- we were
each to take one kick at Mike's back end. Looks like both
teams were going to get a shot, not just the winning one.

Ouch. I was glad it wasn't me. John went first, and hit the
target with a soft shot. Most of the shots connected, but
none were very hard. I went last and missed (sort of on
purpose).

John announced, "Steve didn't get to play, so we should do
something to thank him for refereeing the game. What would
you like, Steve?"

Steve whispered in John's ear, and John smiled. "I'm sure
Jeff and Mike would be happy to." Turning to Mike and I, John
continued, "Steve has no older brother, and would like to see
your boners."

Mike shrugged, so I did too. What could we gain by saying
'no'? Nothing. A number of the kids looked very happy -- I
guess they had no older brothers either, or their bros were
more modest than Mike and I could be at the moment. Mike
whispered in my ear, "let's lay on the grass, so we can close
our eyes and ignore them." I nodded and got down on the
ground, closing my eyes and giving my dick a few strokes to
bring it to its full glory. That done, I spread my arms and
legs and waited.

I heard kids milling all around me, but decided to keep my
eyes closed. That was a good idea of Mike's -- it cut down on
embarrassment for us and for the watchers. This was kind of
erotic, being on display like this. It should have been
humiliating, but I could sense more of a feeling of awe from
the others, and it felt good. Very strange -- I would never
have guessed that.

"Can I touch it?" Steve's nervous question broke me out of my
daydream.

Keeping my eyes closed, I said, "OK." I felt small hands on
my prick, giving it a squeeze and a stroke, then fumbling
with my foreskin. Hmmm -- if he keeps that up, there'll be
something coming out.

"Thanks, that was great!" I opened my eyes, and saw a very
happy Steve. I looked over, and saw that Mike was standing up
and putting on some shorts. Eric was handing me shorts and
shirt. I told Steve he was welcome, and put the shorts on
before standing up. Mike and I were sticking out up front,
but that would go down soon enough.

The gathering was breaking up. I heard some kids say they'd
see John at his party tomorrow, and others saying they were
away for the weekend. Eric handed me the gym bag, saying,
"should have had you carry this over, but you can carry it
back. We'd better go so we're not late." He smiled at me, and
it was not an evil grin this time.

As the four of us headed back, John spoke up, "thanks guys.
Dad was right, that worked out. You guys aren't always shit-
heads and our friends think you're cool. That makes us look
good too."

Mike was the first to reply, "I'm sorry about the pool. That
was mean, and you could have been a lot nastier to us. Did
Dad put you up to this?"

Eric responded, "we're not telling." He winked at John. "But,
you're right, it was mean, and you're not off the hook yet.
Think about it, if we'd beat up on you in front of our
friends, you would have looked like wusses, and that would
not have done John or I any good. Besides, you two used to
have fun with us, and we want that back -- not being pricks
like the last few years."

Shit, he had a point. We used to all play together until Mike
and I went to high school. "You're right Eric, we did have
fun before. I'm sorry it stopped." I wonder why we drifted
apart and then got nasty about it. It's not as if John and
Eric were bad kids. Our payback wasn't over yet, but if it
all went as smoothly as this, it wouldn't be too bad. I still
wondered about those pictures, though.

"I've been thinking and may have a way to get Paul to stop
being such a bastard. Are you two willing to help? It will be
a bit embarrassing for you." John looked at me and then Mike.
Ugh -- the cousins were next.