Torturing Albert

[Datom]

Torturing Albert



I gotta tell you about a funny thing we did to one of the kids in my sister’s class last spring.

First of all, my name is Kailee Fielding. I'm eleven, and in the seventh grade. I have two sisters, one named Jenny, who is twelve, and a little sister Lindsay, who is ten. We all go to the same school, and we’re pretty good looking, for girls our age—long blonde hair (usually in ponytails), cute figures for our ages, although we haven’t really developed yet, and cheerful personalities. Jenny and I are on the track team at school, so we’re pretty athletic, and all three of us are taking dance lessons. Our folks got divorced about five years ago, and we live with our Mom. Our Dad lives about three blocks away in an apartment.

So—there’s this boy in Lindsay’s class. His name is Albert Kemmerer. Albert is kind of a dork. He has dark hair, usually combed over, medium height for his age. He’s not really fat at all, but he might be starting to get slightly overweight. Albert is one of these kids who can do square roots in his head, and knows the capital of Bosnia, and when Shakespeare lived, and a lot of other nerdy stuff. But he has the personality of a cabbage. Whenever you try to talk to him, he always starts talking about himself. Lately, he’s been making up weird stories. Like, about a month ago, he was captured by secret agents from another country, and was held prisoner for three days. Now, we knew that was BS, because we’d seen him in school those days. But he went on talking about it for about a week, until we all got tired of hearing about it. Or, another time before that, when he talked about his dad going into outer space on a mission for NASA. Now, we all knew that was pure crap. Albert’s dad couldn’t hold a job with NASA or anyone, because it would take him away from the bar for too long. But he talked about it like he believed it.

So—you get the picture. Albert was a total dork. So it was okay to torture him.

So, Lindsay and Jenny and I concocted a plan to teach Albert a lesson, or at least have some fun in the process. It started with Lindsay inviting him home after school one day. Lindsay had gone up to Albert after third period class, and sprang the question.

“Hey, Albert, you wanna come over to my house after class today?”

“Uh, I guess so.” Albert was a little surprised. I mean, my sister is a sixth-grade hottie. Any other guy would have said “Yes!” before she’d finished the sentence. But of course it took Albert a minute to process it.

“Oh, good!” Lindsay ran her finger up Albert’s bare forearm. “You can meet my sisters, and we can have some refreshments, and maybe play a few games.” She smiled at him flirtatiously. “It’ll be fun.” I suspect the flirtation was lost on Albert. But at least he was coming over.
. . . . . . . . . .

So, Albert walked home with Lindsay after school. He was talking about himself, and about how he and his family were going to Wyoming during summer vacation. I’ll say this—he did carry Lindsay’s books for her, which was kind of sweet, in a dorky sort of way.

As they walked up the walk, Lindsay pointed out the house. “Whenever you come to my house, you can always remember which one it is—the split-level house with the light green siding.” I doubt that Albert caught the subtle hint that there may be more invitations in the future. Anyway, Lindsay opened the door and they came into the house.

“My mom is still at work,” she told Albert. “She’ll be there until about seven o’clock or so. But my sisters should be around somewhere.”

That was our cue. Jenny and I were waiting in the hallway, and when we heard Lindsay mention us, we made our entrance. “Well, hi there! Albert, right?” Jenny greeted him.

He replied, “Yes, my name is Albert Kemmerer.”

Jenny went on. “I’m Lindsay’s big sister Jenny, and this” gesturing toward me “is Kailee. Lindsay has told us about you, Albert.”

We all went into the kitchen, where Jenny and I had made some cookies and lemonade. We all sat down around the table. Jenny offered Albert a cookie.

“So,” I asked Albert, “what do you like to do?”

Albert was obviously uncomfortable. (Good!) He hesitated. “Oh, I like to play video games, and watch movies.”

“Any particular movies?”

“Uh, usually like, oh, Star Wars, Battlestar, Vorkosigan Saga, stuff like that.”

“What was that last one?” I’d never heard of it.

“Vorkosigan Saga. Miles and Mark Vorkosigan. They’re a couple of brothers, but one of them is a clone, and they live on the planet Barrayar. . .”

We let him babble for another minute. Then Jenny interrupted. “What video games do you like?”

“Minecraft. Terraria. Plants vs. Zombies. You know, once I had two actual zombies stop me on the way home from school . . .” We let him yak about his zombie experience for a minute. Then I interrupted.

“We have Minecraft. It’s on our computer upstairs. Wanna play?”

“Sure.” Albert lifted himself out of the chair, and we all went up the stairs to the bedroom.

“This is Lindsay’s room,” I explained. The décor was all pink, there was a huge poster of a cat on the wall, with the caption "I'm going to get you, you dirty rat." The bed had a pink bedspread on it, and light pink sheets. Of course, a white-painted wooden headboard and footboard. On one wall next to the bed was a desk with a desktop computer on it, hooked up to a large screen.

“Do you like my bedroom, Albert?” Lindsay was going into flirtation mode again, running her finger up Albert’s forearm. Jenny and I stifled a couple of giggles.

“Uh, yeah,” Albert muttered politely. “It’s uh, real nice.”

We all sat down on the bed and started playing Minecraft. After about twenty minutes, Albert got attacked by a creeper that had sneaked up on him and exploded. We all laughed, except Albert.

“Hey, Albert,” Lindsay said suddenly. “Lay back for a minute.”

Albert obediently laid back on the bed, his head near the headboard. Then our plan exploded into action. Lindsay held down his feet, while Jenny quickly climbed up and sat on him. I grabbed his hands and held them together. Reaching down behind the mattress, I pulled out one of the dog leashes that I’d attached to the headboard. It already had a dog collar on it. I quickly fastened the collar around Albert’s wrists, binding them together.

Lindsay, meanwhile was doing the same thing with Albert’s feet. Her leash was shorter, and as she was binding Albert’s legs together, she was pushing down his socks. Then she removed his shoes and his socks.

Albert looked up at us, distressed. “Hey, you guys! Let me go!”

I stroked Albert’s forehead with my hand. “It’s okay, Albert,” I said, in as soothing a tone as I could manage. “We’ll let you go in a little bit. Just as soon as we’re finished with you.” I chuckled.

“What. . . what are you guys gonna do to me?” He looked at us nervously. His eyes went to Lindsay, then Jenny, then back to me.

Lindsay laughed. “We’re gonna . . . TICKLE YOU!” And with that she reached down and started wiggling her fingers on the bottom of Albert’s bare feet. Jenny and I joined in. Jenny tickled his other foot, and I reached up and tickled his underarm.”

"Cut it out!” Albert yelped. “Please! Please stop it!” He was squirming. His arms and legs were lurching as much as the straps would let him.

“We’re having too much fun,” I chuckled. I had slipped my fingers inside his short sleeves, and was now tickling his bare underarm. He was twisting back and forth, wiggling like a worm, and yelping loudly.

“Hey, stop for a minute!” Jenny suddenly ordered.

She went over to the desk and picked up a roll of packing tape. Then she went to a clothes hamper, reached in, and pulled an item from the laundry hamper. She held it up.

“Lindsay’s panties from yesterday,” she explained. "The ones she wore to gym class."

She leaned over Albert just as I pinched him with my fingernails right in his armpit. He started to yelp again “Aaagh. . .” but stopped as Jenny stuffed the sweaty panties into his open mouth. Lindsay unrolled a four-inch length of tape and quickly taped it over Albert’s mouth.

“There,” Jenny announced. “Now we won’t have to listen to all his noise.”

I was sitting on his midsection at the time. I reached down and slipped my hand under his shirt, and started tickling his tummy. As I did, his shirt started riding up, revealing his midsection.

“Ooh! Look at that!” Lindsay squealed. “What a cute belly button!”

I licked my finger, then touched his bellybutton with my wet fingertip. “It’s so nice and round and deep!” I ran my finger around his bellybutton several times. He stopped wiggling.

“Let’s see what else we have under here.” I slipped my hands up his sides, pushing his shirt all the way up. As I did, Jenny, who was standing up by his head, reached down and pulled it up over his head and up his arms, all the way up to his bound wrists.

“Oooh! That’s so cute!” Lindsay squealed, as Albert’s bare chest came into view.

I guess you could describe it as cute. Like I said, Albert wasn’t fat, but he was starting to get overweight. He was just on the verge of developing moobs. So his nipples were kind of big and a little pointy.

Lindsay licked her fingertip and started running her damp finger around Albert’s nipple. “Look at these cute little nippy-nips!” she cooed. She looked up and giggled. “I like playing with these little nipples.” She looked down ant Albert’s chest again. “Oooh! They’re getting bigger!”

Albert’s nipples were really starting to get perkier. He was still wiggling though. Every once in awhile he would say something like “Mmmmmmph! Grmmmmph!” but we couldn’t understand him, because he had a mouthful of soiled panties.

Jenny came around to Albert’s feet. “We have to take care of him down here,” she ordered.

I scooted back so I was sitting on his legs. He was looking at me with alarm in his eyes. I grinned at him, reached down, and popped open the snap on his jeans. Then I unzipped his jeans.

I got off him. Lindsay and Jenny started pulling his jeans down to his ankles. He was twisting and squirming madly. making grunting sounds through his mouth and nose.

“See?” Lindsay giggled. "Doesn’t he look cute in just his little underpants?”

We all looked at him and laughed. Albert was wearing classic tighty-whities that reached up to about an inch below his bellybutton. Inside, we could see the inevitable bulge where his penis was getting bigger.

Jenny reached down and touched it.

“Looks like you like us, Albert,” she grinned.

Albert twisted helplessly.

“Well,” I said, “since you’re Lindsay’s guest, we’re going to let Lindsay pull down your underpants.”

Albert grunted in protest, his eyes wide with fear.

”You have to show Lindsay your penis,” Jenny smirked.

Lindsay reached town and grasped the elastic on either side of Albert’s underpants. Albert pushed his butt firmly down on the bed to stop her from stripping him.

“Now be a good boy for us, Albert,” Lindsay coaxed.

Seeing that Lindsay needed an assist, I reached over to the desk and picked up an open safety pin. I reached down and stuck the sharp end into Albert’s ass. He yelped and lurched up. At that moment, Lindsay yanked the underpants down Albert’s legs and below his knees. She and Jenny pulled them all the way down to Albert’s ankles.

“Ooooh! Look at that little bazooka!”

Albert was now laying with his penis and part of his testicles exposed to all three of us. He was squirming, trying to cover himself up, but of course, there was no way he could do that.

“What an adorable little penis!” Jenny cooed. Truth be known, Albert’s penis was bigger than we thought it would be. Not huge, but definitely reacting to our mischief.

Lindsay reached down and tickled Albert’s penis with her fingertip. “I’ve always wanted to touch your penis, Albert,” she grinned. “I’d sit in class every day and look at you and fantasize about playing with your penis.” Of course, that was a bunch of BS, but it made Albert nervous, so it was worth it.

Lindsay squeezed Albert’s penis a couple of times, then ran her finger up to the very tip. Meanwhile, I had gotten my cellphone out, and was getting the camera app ready. Albert looked at me in horror as I aimed the camera at his nude body.

“Smile for the camera, Alfred,” I giggled, and clicked the button. I took a few shots of him, while Jenny and Lindsay pawed at him. Jenny hand reached down with her finger and was tickling his testicles. He was really squirming.

“He looks so adorable when he squirms!” Lindsay laughed.

“Doesn’t he?” I took another picture.

“Time to decorate him,” Jenny said.

Of course, we’d had this planned too. Jenny took a red marker and sat on Albert while she drew on his chest. She drew two little circles around Albert’s nipples, and put petals around them, so they looked like flowers. Then she handed the pen to me. I held Albert’s stomach nice and flat while I drew a little heart around his belly button.

Then it was Jenny’s turn. Right under Albert’s belly button she wrote in big letters:
ALBERTS
PEENIS
and drew an arrow pointing down toward his crotch.

“Hey,” Jenny protested, “There aren’t two E’s in ‘penis.’ Just one.”

“No, there’s two,” Lindsay responded. “It’s called a ‘peenis’ because that’s where he pees. Everyone knows that!”

She moved back. I picked up the cellphone, then put it down again.

“Wait a minute! I have an idea!”

I had brought a cookie up with me from the kitchen. It had a cherry in the middle. I plucked off the cherry, and pushed it, stem up, deep into Albert’s belly button. The other two girls laughed.

Then I picked up my cellphone, and started taking pictures. I took a couple of Albert’s whole body, so you could see his face and his crotch in the same shot. Then I took a couple of just his face and his chest, so his big nipples were visible. Meanwhile Lindsay had put on a couple of stick-on fingernails on her fingers. These nails were crimson red. Then she flipped Albert’s penis up, and put her finger on it, touching the underside. I leaned over and took a close-up. Then I did a video of Albert’s penis being rubbed by Lindsay’s finger. It was pretty good.

Finally I stopped. I had enough pictures. Lindsay had gotten a warm washcloth and was carefully wiping the marker off Albert’s belly. Jenny looked down at Albert. She put her hand on Albert’s chest and rubbed it.

“Albert, just so you know, those pictures are just for us. We’re not going to share them with anyone else in your class, or anyone else.”

Lindsay was now washing the marker off Albert’s nipples.

Jenny continued, “Of course, if you tell anyone about all the nice things we did to you, we would have to share these pictures with some of the girls in your class. We don’t want to do that. You would be pretty embarrassed.” She put her finger on Albert’s taped-up mouth. “So, no telling, okay? Do you understand?”

Albert nodded.

We unbuckled Albert’s feet and hands. He got up, wiggled back into his shirt, and pulled up his underpants and his pants. Then he pulled the tape off his mouth. He reached into his mouth and pulled out Lindsay’s panties. The look on his face looked hurt and humiliated. He looked like he was going to cry. It was funny!

As he turned to the door, Jenney called out after him, “Remember Albert! No telling anyone!”

We heard his footsteps go down the steps, then we all looked at each other and broke into squeals of laughter. “Did you see that?” “He was wiggling like a little worm!” “That was the cutest little dick I ever saw!”

After we caught our breath, we looked at each other. “Do you think he’s gonna tell?”

We hesitated and then laughed out loud. “Naw! He won’t tell!”

. . . . . . . . . .


He told.

That little piss-ant told his mommy all about what we did to him—how we tied him up, and stripped him and pantsed him and took pictures of him. So of course, his Mommy was at our house the next afternoon, mad as a raging bull. Our mother was there, and invited Mrs. Kemmerer in and listened as she retold all the abusive horrors that had happened to her precious little boy.

I happened to be home at the time, and got called in. My Mom introduced me to a seething Mrs. Kemmerer. I kept the most innocent little-girl look on my face that I could. “Is this true?” Mom demanded of me. “Did you and your sisters really do all this to Albert?”

“Oh, no, Mom! We couldn’t ever do anything like that! Not to a boy! Or anyone!”

“Let’s see your phone!”

Mom took my cellphone and opened the picture gallery. She flipped through the pictures, for a minute and then handed it back to me. “Well, I don’t see any pictures of Albert on here.” She held out the phone so Mrs. Kemmerer could see it.

Meanwhile, I was silently thanking myself for having gotten that other cellphone, the one Dad had gotten for me.

“Well,” Mrs. Kemmerer huffed, “She could have just deleted them.” She wasn’t listening to anything, just fuming. “My poor Albert, being strapped to that bed, and molested by those three hussies! In that awful pink bedroom, with that horrible picture of that cat!”

Mom looked up. “Uh, the girls’ bedroom is painted blue.” She hesitated and said, “I don’t know what kind of poster of a cat you’re talking about. My girls don’t even like cats.” She paused, then said, “Would you like to see the bedroom?”

We went up the steps, Mrs. Kemmerer following.

“See?” Mom opened the door and gestured for Mrs. Kemmerer to enter. She looked around. It was a huge bedroom, painted light blue. My bed was near the end, Jenny’s was in the middle, and Lindsay’s was at the other end. There were three dressers and one large mirror in the room.

Mrs. Kemmerer looked around, confused.

Mom was starting to smile slightly, but she kept her strict tone. “Do you suppose the girls painted the bedroom blue yesterday?”

Mrs. Kemmerer didn’t answer.

“And where’s that poster of a cat?”

“Well” Mrs. Kemmerer sputtered, “They could have taken that down.”

“Yes,” My Mom nodded. She looked straight at Mrs. Kemmerer. “Gail, I’m afraid I’ve heard a lot about your son. Not just from my daughters, but from several other parents. Now, if he wants to go around saying he was kidnapped by spies or Martians, or whatever, that’s what he’s going to do, and I can’t help that. But when he starts making up stories about my daughters, that's crossing a line. Now, you need to go home and get young Albert under control. Maybe find a counselor that can help him sort out truth from fiction. But do not, I repeat, NOT” she paused for emphasis “slander my daughters like this ever again. Am I making myself clear?”

Mrs. Kemmerer didn’t say anything. She just turned and left.

“Now, Kailee,” Mom looked at me, “Please tell me that you didn’t really do all that to Albert.”

I didn’t say anything.

“Did your sisters do it?”

“No! I said. “We did not lure Albert to Amanda’s house and pretend it was our house and get him up to the bedroom and tie him up and strip him and write on his nude body and take naked pictures of him!” I paused. “He must be making that up.”

Mom looked at me suspiciously.

“Amanda’s house, huh?” she said at last. “I guess that explains the pink bedroom and the cat poster.”

“And anyway,” I added, “It was funny, ‘cause Albert is such a total dork.”

“So,” Mom looked at me, “It’s all right to torture and humiliate your classmate, just because he’s a dork?”

“Well, sure!” I said.
. . . . . . . . . .

We didn’t hear any more from Mrs. Kemmerer. And Albert didn’t talk to Lindsay after that. Or me or Jenny either.

About a week after all this had died down, Rachel Zelinski, a girl in my class, came up to me. “Want to see something?” she said slyly.

She showed me a text on her cellphone. It was a photo of a boy’s belly and crotch, naked, with the words “alberts peenis” written on the belly in red pen, an arrow pointing down. There was a female finger, with a red fingernail, touching the penis on its underside.

“You think that’s Albert Kemmerer? In our class?” Rachel looked at me.

“Must be.” I shrugged. “I wonder why he’s sending that out.

“I don’t know if it’s from him,” Rachel looked at her phone again. “I don’t recognize the number. It’s not Becky’s number, or Amanda’s. Or yours.”

"He's such a dork," I said.

In the next few days, several other girls got similar pictures. Some of them actually showed Albert’s face. All of them showed his crotch. So by the time another week had gone by, every girl in my class knew what Albert Kemmerer’s penis looked like. And I guess he was wondering why all the girls were looking at him and laughing whenever they walked by him. I think someone finally told him.

. . . . . . . . .

Anyway, that was last spring. So far this year, we haven’t seen Albert. His mommy pulled him out of our school, and enrolled him in St. Matthew’s School instead. I guess he couldn’t take the humiliation.

Maybe it was cruel, what we did to him. But it was okay. He deserved it. After all, he was such a total dork.


. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

P.S. We tried doing the same thing with one of our babysitters a few months later. You can read about it in "Nick Babysits" viewtopic.php?p=23613#p23613

[Robert Brooks]

Wow! Fantastic story, Datom! Loved it

[ChubbyChaser73]

More chubby guys being humiliated please too bad they didn't see his chubby butt. Great writing. It's interesting how you wrote the girls, they're kinda mean but it was also like it was nothing personal to them. They weren't overly cruel and treated it more like play, like a wild animal playing with its food.

[Datom]

More chubby guys being humiliated please too bad they didn't see his chubby butt. Great writing. It's interesting how you wrote the girls, they're kinda mean but it was also like it was nothing personal to them. They weren't overly cruel and treated it more like play, like a wild animal playing with its food.

"A wild animal playing with its food" Wow! That's an excellent metaphor. I gotta steal that from you and use it! Thanks, ChubbyChaser73!