Chad's Anger Management Training Chapter 33

Chad's Anger Management Training Chapter 33
by Chadlad

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This story is intended for ADULTS ONLY It contains explicit depictions of sexual activity involving minors. If you are not of a legal age in your locality to view such material or if such material does not appeal to you, do not read further, and do not save this story.
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Chapter 33: The Gag, the Plug, and the Jar

Now that Alan's paddling was over, the main show was concluded. Chad was sent to the corner in his punishment chair. Lindsay was excused to the girls' room to vigorously wash her befouled hand. Alan cried in front of the class for another 15 minutes, then quieted down enough that Mrs. Rose could wipe his swollen, tear-stained, snot-covered face. She left the gag in while she took wipes and scrubbed Alan's still damp genitals in front of the class, first wiping the long, flaccid penis, causing it to immediately become half hard and rose to the point that its single eye was pointing right at Emily. "Better watch out, Em," the girl next to her whispered. "That thing might go off!"

Mrs. Rose, having obtained a clean wipe, then took Alan's thin, hard, helmeted organ in her fist and pulled it firmly up out of the way while she scrubbed the wrinkles of the boy's sack roughly, briefly increasing the flow of tears down his face. Letting go and disposing of that wipe, she took several new ones in her right hand. Holding the boy's penis again in an iron grip to steady him, she reached behind the boy and began vigorously rubbing down his sore, welted buttocks, causing renewed bawling from Alan as the wipes stung the sensitive, sore skin. His bawling intensified as she forced his buttocks apart, roughly wiping his welted anus as well.

Tossing the wipes in the waste basket, Mrs. Rose finally unfastened the Velcro strap and pulled the now soaked gag out of Alan's mouth. Alan's crying became louder as he flexed his jaw and swallowed repeatedly, still crying. Mrs. Rose shook out the gag and looked at it. She held the cloth up so that the class could see that it was actually a very damp pair of boys' briefs. "I'm afraid you're going to have to borrow some punishment underpants to wear home, Chad," she remarked. "Alan appears to have gotten yours quite damp, and I don't think they'll dry before time to go home."

Alan's eyes bugged out as her words dawned on him. Mrs. Rose had used Chad's underwear as his gag? The underwear that had been on Chad's butt this morning until he'd changed into his diaper? What part of Chad's briefs had been in contact with his tongue? He knew which part he hoped wasn't! As Mrs. Rose turned the underpants first one way and then the other for the class to see, Alan frantically scanned the lower back part of the underwear. He was somewhat relieved to see that the portion of the briefs which had encased Chad's lower buttocks appeared to be fairly dry, so that part probably hadn't been in contact with his mouth. That area also appeared to be clean, Alan also noted to his relief.

His relief was short lived, though, as Mrs. Rose rotated Chad's underwear so that the class could see the back and he could see the front. The front of the white briefs were sopping wet with his saliva, in fact so wet that the cloth was almost transparent. And the pouch in front was the wettest – it must have been in contact with the inside of Alan's mouth the whole time he was being paddled! Alan fought down the urge to gag, as he remembered that he himself almost always got a drop or two on his own underpants pouch whenever he went pee. What had he read on the bathroom wall in a gas station once? "No matter how you shake and dance, the last drop always lands in your pants," was what it said. He'd had a bladder infection when he was 12, and had been given an antibiotic that made his pee bright orange while he was taking it. He remembered being shocked at the orange spots he made in his undies every time he peed. No matter how hard he tried, he'd get at least one drop on his undies every time, and sometimes two or three. If Chad had peed that morning, (and what boy didn't pee just before going into class) there must almost certainly have been drops of his pee in the underwear Alan had just had in his mouth. And the underwear wasn't just sitting there, he realized, thinking back. He'd bit down on it and chewed on it to control his pain and crying, he'd drooled into it as he cried uncontrollably, and he'd been forced to swallow the accumulating moisture that had soaked the underwear or else drool on the floor shamefully.

He fought off another urge to gag. Although he'd experimented with sex with boys for more than a year, up to this point he'd only looked at and touched their genitals, nothing else. Last year, then 7th grader Scott Smiley had sucked his wiener several times, an experience he'd found incredibly pleasurable and would have like to continue. But Scott had insisted after that that he wasn't doing it any more unless Alan would suck him in return. Alan had tried to bring himself to do it, because he really did like it when Scott would do him. But he couldn't get past the fact that pee came out of that little slit in the front of it. He liked messing with other boys' wieners a lot, but he couldn't bring himself to put one in his mouth. Every time he thought about trying it, he would picture the bright orange spots on his own undies, and where they had come from, and he would pull away. Scott had finally lost patience with him and went off to find other playmates less finicky about what went into their mouths. And now Mrs. Rose had tricked him into putting underpants Chad had probably dripped on into his mouth! He went into another fit of gagging.

Meanwhile, the class had gone into utter hysterics, once they learned that Alan had been gagged with Chad's used underpants. The began shouting out comments about having underpants breath, and asking Alan how Chad's butt had tasted along with other quite unsavory questions. Mrs. Rose, grinning inwardly at the boy's sick look and frantic gagging, hung the underwear from the front bulletin board with a push pin and then quieted the class.

It was another 10 long minutes before Alan was able to regain control of his revulsion and residual crying enough to raise his hand and request to be sent to the corner. Mrs. Rose made him apologize to the class repeatedly, first for having to see his naked body and disgusting privates and witness his punishment, second for peeing on the floor prior to being paddled, third for being so misbehaved that he had to be gagged and restrained, fourth for peeing on Lindsay while being spanked, and fifth to Chad for getting his underpants all wet. After Alan had stammered through this list, gagging and almost throwing up during the apology to Chad, she then reminded him that in addition to his other punishments, he was having his diaper time extended for 3 additional days, for a total of 6, primarily due to his repeated loss of urinary control during punishment.

The front corner of the classroom opposite Chad's location was hastily cleared, and Alan's chair was placed in it. Alan, walking like he was treading on sharp gravel, his hands hovering over but afraid to touch his still stinging, welted buttocks, was led to the borrowed punishment chair by Mrs. Rose. When he hesitated to sit due to the agony caused by stretching the large muscles of his butt as well as the sensitivity of the clusters of welts on the surface, she pushed him into the chair firmly and lifted each foot to the 2nd rung, leaving the boy shifting in agony and bawling loudly at the pressure of the wooden seat on his incredibly sore bottom.

Alan continued to cry through the next hour, shifting continually on the seat and pausing only to take in great gulps of air and hiccup from time to time. He eventually quieted down as the class went about its daily routine, but kept shifting positions, as each small welt still burned like a small needle.

At about 1:30, the overall silence was interrupted by the sound, this time from the 8th grade class down the hall, of a teacher's bare hand striking some unfortunate boy's bare butt. Everyone in the 7th grade strained to listen, but could hear no sound from the boy being spanked, only the loud smacks of a strong hand on bare flesh for some time. After what was, by Chad's count, the 33rd spank, a shaky adolescent voice could be heard pleading for the teacher to stop, then crying out more and more loudly with pain with each spank afterward. Eventually the cries were replaced with low-pitched adolescent bawling. Chad and the rest of the class were amazed – from the low pitch of the voice, this was a big, big boy, even more grown up than Joey. Yet he'd been broken to crying by the 8th grade teacher with just her bare hand. She must spank hard!

At the 70th bare handed smack, by Chad's count, there was a pause in the smacking sounds. The 8th grade boy continued sobbing. That must be it, she's done, Chad thought to himself. But moments later the cries resumed much more loudly, this time accompanied by an unfamiliar smacking noise that didn't sound like either the crisp whacks of the wooden paddle that had warmed Chad's defenseless behind nor the soft whaps of The Stinger that Alan had become all too personally familiar with. Children looked at Mrs. Rose with puzzled expressions. "Leather strap," she said calmly. "Mrs. Amahl is quite fond of it."

The strap landed only 5 times on the howling 8th grader, but his howls had become loud blubbering crying by the 4th blow, and the blubbering continued afterward for some time, diminishing gradually in loudness. As the older boy's cries diminished, the 7th grade could hear loud laughter from the building next door, soon followed by the measured cracks of a teacher's hand on still another defenseless boy's bare skin and his immediate, high-pitched howls. The fact it was coming from across the way meant that it was a grade schooler who was getting his bare butt spanked this time, probably a 5th or 6th grader by the tone of the voice. Chad having nothing to do in the corner but think about his sore butt, the painful plug in his anus, and whether his mother would kill him when he got home, idly counted the spanks, finally ending up with 50 by the time the teacher stopped. The boy's howling continued, increasing at one point along with a burst of classroom laughter and the teacher saying something that he couldn't make out.

Chad allowed himself to entertain the fantasy that it was his brother Tommy who had just gotten spanked on his little fat rump, but of course it wasn't – the voice was all wrong. While he was regretting that, he noticed that a new sensation had been building up in his lower regions. His small penis erected itself, sticking straight from his groin. It took him a moment to sort out the sensations from the full feeling of the plug and realize that he hadn't peed all afternoon, and urgently needed to. He raised his hand, index finger extended, and frantically waved it in the air.

Mrs. Rose pointed ignored Chad's wildly waving hand for a good 5 minutes, as the urge to go built up in Chad and his waving became more frantic. Finally Cynthia spoke up. "Mrs. Rose," she said. "I think Chad has to go to the bathroom."

"Have you forgotten you're on diaper punishment, young man?" Mrs. Rose said sternly. "You aren't allowed to use the bathroom, you can only go in your diaper. Now put your hand down."

"If I can't use the bathroom, can I have my diaper now, please?" Chad pleaded.

"Have you also forgotten that boys who've just been spanked bare bottomed stay bare-bottomed and sit in the corner until the end of the school day?" Mrs. Rose asked pointedly. "Or is it that you've forgotten you were just spanked? Perhaps you need a reminder."

"No, ma'am," Chad said quickly. Talk about being between a rock and a hard place! He waited a beat, but the burning urge in him made him press on. "But I've really gotta go!" he begged. "Can't I have my diaper early?"

Mrs. Rose frowned. "Mr. Henson, you are much more trouble than you're worth. Come to the tape line and we'll discuss it."

Chad got up slowly, wondering whether he was going to get spanked again. The giggles of his classmates immediately started. He assumed they were giggling at his bouncing hard on, but saw their attention was fixed on Mrs. Rose. As he turned his head, he suddenly understood the source of their glee – she had her pee jar out! She was going to make him pee in front of the class!

"Never mind, Mrs. Rose," Chad backpedaled. "I can hold it. I'll just go back to my chair."

"Nonsense," Mrs. Rose replied. "I've already got my jar out." She guided Chad to the tape line and held the jar in front of Chad's still erect member, forcing it down with her hand until she'd trapped the end in the mouth of the jar. Emily smirked at Chad, his penis clearly visible through the glass. Mrs. Rose looked at Chad. "You said you had to go so bad you couldn't wait an hour. So go!" She glared at Chad.

Chad stood there, staring at his penis. The jar felt cold on the tip of his organ. Every girl in class and most of the boys, too, were looking at Chad with bright, shining eyes. A few of the girls were merely excited at the chance to see any boy pee – some of them had never even seen a penis before seeing Chad's two days ago. Some had little brothers or were experienced in baby sitting so that peeing boys were old hat, but still enjoyed the seeing a boy their age being forced to pee in plain sight of everyone. Most of the boys merely enjoyed the chance to put down one of their number, raising their own stock by comparison. Mrs. Rose shifted her weight, changing the angle of the jar. "Come on, young man. I haven't got all day," she chided.

Chad's bladder sphincter clenched tightly under all the pressure. Every eye but Alan's was on him, waiting to cheer as liquid erupted from his phallus. He stood there dumbly, trying to make his shy bladder relax. He had to go so bad the base of his penis hurt, yet he couldn't make the pee come out! He tried to figure out how to get out of this one.

After standing holding the bottle in front of Chad's pulsing but non-erupting penis for about a minute, Mrs. Rose became impatient. "I'm giving you 30 seconds more to urinate, young man. If you don't go by that time, we'll have to take more drastic measures."

More drastic measures? Chad thought with dismay. What did that mean? It certainly sounded bad. Emily was smiling broadly at him from her seat. He tried squeezing his butt, but the butt plug made that quite painful. He tried thinking about running water. He tried shutting his eyes and pretending he was taking a nice shower and just letting his pee go. Nothing happened.

"Time's up," Mrs. Rose said. "I guess we'll have to try something else."

She sat down the jar. Cynthia spoke up. "Mrs. Rose," she said timidly. "I think I know why Chad can't pee."

"Why, because he enjoys making a spectacle of himself and wasting our time?" Emily said archly.

"No. I think it's because he's all hard," Cynthia said seriously. "My little brother says he has trouble making the pee come out when he's all hard like that, so maybe Chad has trouble peeing like that, too. Besides, he has that big thing up his butt. I bet you couldn't pee either, Emily, if you had a big thing stuffed up your butt," Cynthia said sympathetically.

"I've got a big thing I'd like to stuff up both their butts," Joey muttered, only loud enough for the boys around him to hear. They began raucous laughter, which Mrs. Rose attributed to Cynthia's remark and chose to ignore. She answered Cynthia instead. "The plug shouldn't stop him from begin able to go, and it needs to stay in for the rest of the day as part of his punishment, anyway. But you might be right about his erection making urination difficult. We'll need to make him get rid of it, suppose."

"I could rub it until he does that thing where he gets all tense and then relaxes, Mrs. Rose," Cynthia said hopefully. "That made his boy thing get soft when I did it yesterday. I bet it would today, too."

Mrs. Rose looked at Cynthia knowingly. "There's no need for you to go to that trouble, dear," she said. "Your idea would indeed probably work. But it would also give him great amounts of pleasure, when what he deserves is pain. It might also give him a certain amount of prestige among the boys in this class, when what he deserves is humiliation. So thank you, but your services won't be necessary."

She turned to Chad. "Would you prefer humiliation or pain?" she asked him.

Chad looked at her blankly, his still rock hard penis bobbing with his movement. "Wh- wh- what do you mean?" he stammered.

"There are two ways we can make your penis get soft enough to allow you to relieve yourself. One is extremely humiliating, the other extremely painful. Which do you want, humiliation or pain?" she challenged again.

Chad wanted to say neither, but he knew that wouldn't work – she'd probably just give him both if he did. "What kind of pain?" he asked tentatively.

"A bare-bottomed spanking with The Stinger," she replied matter of factly. "That certainly worked on Alan."

Chad flinched, covering his butt with his hands. "NO!" he said forcefully. "Not The Stinger!"

"Then I guess it has to be humiliation," she replied calmly. "You've made your choice. Your public humiliation will be that you will have to bring yourself to orgasm right here, in front of your classmates. I'll give you 3 minutes to do so. If you haven't orgasmed by then, we'll proceed to the spanking alternative."

Chad stared at her in disbelief. She wanted him to jack himself off? Here? In front of the class? With Emily, Lindsay, Cynthia, and all the other girls watching, not to mention all the boys? He looked at Mrs. Rose with horror.

"Timer is starting now, Mr. Henson," she said calmly. "You'd best get started. Unless you'd like to be paddled with The Stinger just like young Mr. Delvecchio!"

Chad hesitated, then reached his right hand down and gripped his penis, stroking it slowly, then more rapidly. The girls, who with the exception of Lindsay had never seen any boy masturbate, were amazed at the sight of his hand stroking his hard penis with little, short movements so that he didn't lose his grip on the small organ. The boys, on the other hand, all of whom masturbated themselves using one technique or another, were amazed he had the nerve to do it, and were surprised that he turned his hand so that the thumb and index finger faced his groin rather than the usual male technique of using a fist with the thumb and forefinger near the tip. Randy stared at Chad's technique, puzzled for a moment. "Oh," he finally said aloud, so that most of the class heard him. "It's so short he can't use his whole fist!" Too late, Randy realized he'd just revealed way more information about himself and his own techniques of self- stimulation than he'd planned with his comment. Blushing, he slid down in his chair and tried to ignore the laughing class.

Chad had hoped his penis would start shrinking on its own if he stroked it a few times, but it stubbornly got harder. Might as well just get it over with, he thought to himself, increasing the speed of his hand until it reached his usually blur of motion when he jacked off. He was surprised to find that, as had been the case when he'd been forced to jerk off in front of his brother, that having an audience was totally humiliating but increased his excitement. He began the usual involuntary butt tensing that accompanied the build up of pleasure inside him, discovering that each contraction of his butt squeezed the plug, creating a heightened pleasure/pain mixture that just drove his desire. Before Mrs. Rose had even announced the minute mark, Chad was rising up on his toes, thrusting his pelvis and his pulsing penis at Emily and shuddering through the most powerful orgasm he'd ever had in his life. His usually grunting noises were even louder this time, as his butt hole sent out pain signals to combine with and heighten the pleasure of the orgasm. The world became a white mass of sensation for a moment, then gradually swam into focus, and he realized Emily was smirking at him, and the class was laughing hysterically at his grimaces and grunts during his performance. He also noted his butt hole burned and that his penis was shrinking rapidly and the urge to pee was overwhelming him. He lunged for the jar and got it under his penis just in time. Liquid surged out and filled the jar about a quarter full. Chad marveled how hot the jar suddenly became. He must really be warm inside!

The class was still laughing and pointing, making imitations of his sounds during orgasm, and jacking imaginary penises while grinning at Chad and nudging each other. Mrs. Rose took the jar and sat it on Emily's desk, to her consternation.

"I believe now would be a good time to remove your plug, since you're already distracting us from our work, anyway," Mrs. Rose said. "Turn around and bend over, please, and spread your bottom apart."

Chad hated that position, but he perked up at the prospect of having the uncomfortable plug removed. He cautiously turned around and bent over, spreading his butt cheeks with his hands. The white plug centered in his butt gaped back at the children. She ought to just leave it in, Emily thought to herself once again. She liked looking at the rest of them, but boys looked so much better with their disgusting poop holes hidden.

"Now hold still – this is going to hurt a quite a bit coming out," Mrs. Rose said. "You'll have to push really hard, like you're defecating, and push it out while I pull." The class dissolved into hysterics again at the use of the scatological term. Mrs. Rose turned and spoke to them sharply. "Quiet, please. Mr. Henson is going to need to concentrate. This is going to be quite painful for him."

Chad shuddered at her repeating that it was going to be painful. Did she have to keep saying that?

Mrs. Rose addressed him again. "Young man, as I said, push out like you're trying to defecate. Don't stop pushing even if it hurts a lot." Chad bent over farther, trying to make his butt as open as he could, and bore down with his pelvic muscles, trying to push out the plug. Mrs. Rose grasped the metal ring attached to the end of the plug and began pulling. Nothing happened for a few seconds, except that his butt hole felt unbearably stretched. Chad pushed harder. The plug still didn't move, but he did manage to make several embarrassing grunting noises that he knew would come back to haunt him in the days to come. He paused in his pushing, panting.

Mrs. Rose gripped her right hand with her left and ordered, "Push harder, young man, or I'll paddle you for the rest of the day!" Fear shot through Chad, and the additional muscle tension it caused proved to be enough. The plug popped out with a soft, wet plopping sound accompanied by a brief shot of unbearable pain that caused Chad to grip his ankles tightly and begin crying loudly. The class gaped in amazement as Chad's butt hole remained open for at least 20 seconds before twitching several times and suddenly closing fluidly and tightly.

Mrs. Rose, who had been watching it intensely, gave a nod of satisfaction as it closed. "It always takes them awhile to come to life afterward," she said, almost to herself. She recovered her poise. "Stand up and turn around, young man," she said. Chad followed her instructions and stood there facing the class, trying to calm his crying. His butt hole now burned intensely, but at least the awful fullness was gone. A glance at his little wiener confirmed it was sporting its usual post orgasmic, swollen head look. At least the day's almost over, he thought to himself. A sudden realization made him go cold. It's not almost over, he realized, his penis sagging limply. It's just begun. I gotta go home and explain all this to Mom!

Of course, the school day itself wasn't over yet. While he was contemplating the fact that he was going to have to go home and face his mother, Mrs. Rose handed him the jar. It was still quite warm with his residual body heat. "Take this to the boys' room, young man, dump it in a urinal, and rinse it out well. Then dry it with towels and bring it back."

Chad knew better than to ask if he could have clothing or a diaper to wear while making this trip. He started toward the classroom door, holding the jar in front of him. As he reached to the back of the classroom, Mrs. Rose added, "and if you meet anyone walking to or from the bathroom, you have to tell them that you're having to dump the jar and clean it out, because you were such a baby that you couldn't wait until the end of school and had to pee in front of the class. And remember, no using the bathroom, and no covering your privates in the halls."

They're not private, anyway, Chad thought to himself. Everybody sees them all the time. He carefully opened the door and began hurrying down the hall, his floppy but still extended penis wagging merrily as he walked. He wondered to himself how boys in primitive times and places, where everyone went naked, could stand to have their wieners bouncing around like that all the time. What happened when they ran? Well, he could guess what happened when they ran – they bounced around like little ping-pong balls in a bingo machine!

Chad was hoping not to meet anybody, but that hope was dashed immediately. He had barely started down the hall when a girl roughly his size came out of the adjoining classroom. "Oh," she said, startled at almost bumping into a naked boy with a red butt holding a jar in front of him. "You're one of those who just got spanked, aren't you?" she said brightly.

"I was the first one," Chad admitted. "But it was Alan Delvecchio who you heard just awhile ago. He got his butt whipped with the thing with the strings hanging from it, but he didn't make as much noise as me because he had my underpants in his mouth as a gag. His butt is lots more blistered than mine. And some kid in 6th grade got it, too."

The girl glanced down at Chad's genitals. "They should make all you boys go naked all the time," she said. "Your little thingies are so cute!"

Chad grimaced at hearing the word "cute" again. Just once, he'd like to hear a girl describe his genitals as manly, or impressive, or something like that. He was sick of being cute. He glanced down at his crotch. The heck of it was, she was right. His little penis was being cute at the moment, about an inch of it protruding above his neat little sack. He suddenly remembered what he was supposed to say. "My teacher said I have to tell you that I'm taking the jar to the boys' bathroom because I couldn't hold it and had to pee in front of the whole class." His voice had dropped almost to a whisper at the last part, and his face blushed bright red.

"Wish I'd have seen that," the girl said, tossing her head and skipping away. She twisted around, walking backwards, as she retreated down the hall. "Nice butt," she called mockingly. "Looks good red. You boys should be spanked every day so you remember that we girls are the bosses. And you should all have to go naked all the time, so we can look at your cute little thingies and you little boy butts," she said as she skipped away.

Chad heaved a sigh of relief as the boy's bathroom came into sight, but then almost collided with a younger boy coming out. "Watch out!" Chad said, hugging the jar to his body. "You almost made me spill it!"

"What's that?" The boy asked, wrinkling his nose. "It looks like pee!"

"It is pee," Chad said. "I have to go dump it in the bathroom, because I couldn't hold it and had to pee in front of the class."

The younger kid looked worried. "They make you pee in front of the class in middle school?" he asked incredulously.

"Not usually," Chan admitted. "But I'm in diapers because I peed on Mrs. Rose when she was giving me a spankin', and then I got spanked today for peeing in the shower in the nurse's office. And usually after you get spanked you're allowed to go the bathroom when you're done crying, except you have to go to the bathroom naked, but since I lost my bathroom privileges and can't cover up my privates or my butt for the rest of the day, she made me pee in front the class," Chad explained in a rush.

"You must have felt like a real dork standing in front all those girls and stuff with your dick sticking out, having to pee in a jar!" The boy said in amazement. "How'd you relax enough to let it out with everybody watching you?" He asked. "I can hardly do it with someone standing next to me in the boys' bathroom."

Chad was glad he didn't have to explain about having to jerk off in front of the class to make his wiener soft enough so he could pee. But he might as well have – it would be all over the school 10 minutes after the bell rang, he knew. He proceeded on into the bathroom, where he dumped his jar and washed it thoroughly. He turned around and stood on his tiptoes to look at his butt in the mirror over the sink. It didn't look so bad. Emily had made him red all over, but he had hardly any blisters. He blushed in humiliation, remembering what it felt like to be over his enemy's lap, crying like a baby while getting his butt spanked. He had never felt so helpless in his life. He remembered her smug smirk afterward every time she looked at him. The satisfied look on her face made his skin crawl and his butt throb.

Chad was able to make it safely back to his classroom with the jar without meeting anyone else. The rest of the school day passed without incident, Alan having stopped crying in his corner, Chad staring at the wall in his. Finally, he was called out of the corner to dress to go home. As Mrs. Rose had predicted, his undies weren't dry, so they were left hanging from the bulletin board and he was forced to wear a pair of punishment underpants like he'd had 2 days ago, with the embarrassing "I just got spanked" logo stitched into the waistband on both sides. Emily gave his penis a good yank as Mrs. Rose was retrieving them, but he got the rest of his clothes on without incident, and he was grateful that today he was allowed to wear his pants, although Mrs. Rose insisted that the waistband of the underwear be pulled above the waistband of his pants, so that the "I just got spanked" logo showed clearly. "And you'd better not try to cover it up on the way home," she chided. "Children I know will be watching you, and they'll report back to me if you try to hide the waistband before you get to your house."

Allen was called out of his corner next, and given his shirt and a pair of punishment underpants. Like the ones Chad had received, Allen's underpants had the words "I just got spanked," stitched into the waist band on both the front and the back. This pair, however, had a different cartoon picture on it. On the pouch barely enclosing Alan's genitals, there was a picture of a boy with his hands behind his head, peeing freely on the ground. "Looks just like you," Emily remarked, reaching across her desk to pat the front of the pouch. Alan's genitals immediately fell out of the side of the pouch. Emily leaped back in mock horror. "It's attacking," she squeaked, causing Alan to blush and the class to go into hysterics.