Bateman and Son Photography I

Disclaimer: This story involves sex between men and teens, and teens and teens. It will eventually contain some pretty sever humiliation and punishment scenes. If you don’t like it, you don’t have to read it. It is just a story. None of the characters are based on anyone real, and none of this ever happened.

Bateman and Son Photography I


16 year old Timothy Smith stood in front of the old full length mirror in his bedroom. His long straight black bangs hung down over his pale, slightly pimpled face, causing him to toss his head so he could see better. The five foot, two inch boy was dressed only in his soccer shorts and socks from his youth league uniform that he had last worn two years ago, along with his black Adidas. Thus, the bright red shorts were about two sizes two small, and the matching red socks, even without his shin guards, barely reached his knees when he pulled them up as tightly as he could. With a trembling hand he held the digital camera up to the mirror, looked at his body one more time wishing he had any kind of tan, swallowed hard and snapped a picture. Then another, and another. He hoped that the jockstrap he was wearing was concealing the hardon that was currently throbbing in his shorts and would not show too much in the picture. He was told to just show off his body in the photographs, to see if he was “model worthy”. The uniform was his own idea, as it was part of what drove him to this point in the first place.

It wasn’t the soccer; he actually didn’t like playing and was only on the team at the insistence of his grandmother, who was his guardian since his parents had died when he was still an infant. No, it was just the uniform itself. The only one he ever had, and it was the only reason he agreed to play that year. Well that and other hopes about the coach or other players that did not come to pass.

He couldn’t explain why, but when he saw other boys in uniforms, he got all tingly inside. Not just any uniforms though, the uniforms that turned him on all had a common thread. The uniforms had to require short pants, the shorter the better. Also, while not a strict requirement, knee length socks, turned him on the most. Sports uniforms were one thing and he certainly enjoyed looking at cute boys in them, but he got even more turned on by school or scout type uniforms.

He was constantly scouring the internet, getting enormously turned on by pictures from other countries that required old fashioned school uniforms, or of Boy Scout summer camps where all the boys were dressed alike. He fantasized about being “forced” to attend an all boys boarding school, where he would have to wear a very revealing uniform all the way through his senior year, and any infraction of the rules, no matter how trivial, would lead to some painful and humiliating punishment from the stern teachers. Alternatively, he fantasized about being a reluctant boy scout having to wear a dorky uniform and undergoing a painful initiation from the other scouts while the grizzled military like scoutmaster looked on. His fantasies usually ended up with him giving himself sexually to the older male authority figure after his thrashing, but not always. Sometimes he saw himself pinned under another boy, always older though, naked except his long socks and shoes, surrendering his virginity to his superior.

Tim wasn’t a loner, or a trouble maker. He was a decent student, had friends, and lived a pretty normal life, except that he craved an older male role model. Tim was no sissy, but he defiantly wasn’t the most masculine boy either. Some might say he was delicate. Especially since he concluded that he was gay at a young age, he was constantly on the lookout for a mentor that would show him the way. He knew he was submissive, and that he also craved physical discipline, even though the thought of pain sort of terrified him. His grandmother would have never dreamed of laying a hand on him, and he only heard of some friends getting spanked when he was younger.