Tommy's Attitude Adjustment Chapter 101

Tommy's Attitude Adjustment Chapter 101
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 101: Hand Me Down that Walking Cane

There really isn't much one can say about being caned, at least from the perspective of the recipient. It's brutal, unbearable, and humiliating. Brutal and unbearable, because the pain for the recipient, whether child or adult, is unbelievable at the time, doesn't wane afterwards. Thin canes cause primarily surface damage with some muscle bruising, similar to that caused by the paddle but with the area of impact considerably narrowed. Thicker canes, like the ones The Reverend had imported from Singapore, also cause painful surface damage, but also created deep muscle bruising worse than that of the biggest paddle, muscle bruising that necessitated sleeping on one's stomach, made walking slow and painful for days, and made sitting an impossible agony. For that reason, unless the caning is to be an especially light one, even an adult or adolescent being caned is usually tied down firmly, and generally gagged as well unless the caning is done in isolation, or the point is to make sure everyone hears the agony of the recipient. A child being caned becomes nothing but a tortured animal, all consciousness focused on the agony of a few square inches of tender buttock and on the frenzied need to escape, even if it means chewing one's arm off to do so.

Caning also is humiliating, because, when administered with the individual standing with legs braced apart, bending forward with head lowered, it allows the observers and the administrator to view the victim's anus and genitals for a long period of time while the punishment is slowly being administered. The agony of each blow makes the child or adult writhe and convulse, so that scrotums contract and writhe against groins, penises flop and twitch and ultimately shrink to humiliating bumps, vulvas gape, contract and tremble, and anuses contract to tiny stars and then gape like little carp mouths as the buttocks react to the stripes of liquid fire being laid on them. The humiliation is compounded because the damage to the buttocks makes elimination a daily ordeal often requiring the assistance of enemas and all the shame that goes with that intimate procedure.

Which is why Emily Git and Courtney Snetch were carefully prepared by The Reverend for their canings. A second sturdy wooden chair was brought in, and both girls were made to stand in front of the chairs facing the backs, while their shins were tied firmly to the tops and bottoms of each front chair leg, forcing their legs apart so that the bottoms of Courtney's tight and attractive and Emily's more ragged but still intriguing labia could be seen from the rear. Each girl was then bent forward and had her wrists bound together behind the chair back, and her upper arms bound to the projecting posts on the top of each side of the back, thus putting both of their vulvas in full view of the watching boys. A small pillow was put across the back of the chair for each girl's chin to rest on. In this position, both girls buttocks bent just shy of 90 degrees and jutted slightly toward the seated boys, both sets of tortured red and purple orbs covered with welts and blisters and vying for their attention. Both girls' asses opened enough in this position that the contrast between their butt holes was clear – Emily's dark brown, almost black rosette looking huge next to Courtney's red and sore-looking but much smaller orifice. The latter girl's tight opening was still contracting occasionally and drooling bubbles from the soap that remained in her rectum, bubbles that her mother wiped with a towel each time they puddle on either side of her vulva. (Her mother had already wiped the urine off of her and the floor with a different towel). Both girls were twitching here and there, testing the bonds and their limited freedom of movement. Mrs. Snetch turned to the boys.

"We'll need gags," she said. "Matty, Jeremy? Off with the pants again – we'll need your underwear, I think."

The boys sighed, but years of painful and humiliating bare-butt spankings had made them obedient when told to take down their pants – two pairs of trousers came down once again and were kicked off, and then both boys were sliding off white briefs and handing them to their aunt. Matty was hard again, and his hand went immediately to his penis, squeezing the hooded tip hard and clenching his butt at the sensation. His hand fell away swiftly as his aunt glanced their direction. "Leave it," she said in a commanding voice, and Matty carefully put his hands behind his back and tried to look innocent, a hard thing to do with a stiffy curving upward and throbbing with his heartbeat. Jeremy didn't touch his ¾ hard penis, merely meekly handing his underpants to his aunt when she held out her hand. "Don't put those back on," she said as he reached for his pants again. "You'll get your dirt in your pants – I know your habits too well."

"Hey, I wiped good!" Jeremy protested. "It's Matty who poops in his pants all the time!"

"Do not!" Matty shot back. "You're mister poopy pants!"

"Quiet!" their aunt chided. "Neither of you are exactly Mr. Diligent when it comes to anal hygiene – I've washed enough of your skid marks to know."

"But we gotta put our pants back on sooner or later," Jeremy said. "We'll have nothing to wear on the way home!"

"So I'll turn up the heater," his aunt said. "A little ventilation always does a boy's privates good – it cuts down on the risk of crotch rashes. Now shush. And keep your dirty hands away from your privates, both of you." She looked at the audience of boys. "That goes for all of you. No pocket pool, no 'readjusting yourselves,' no funny business of any kind. This is a disciplinary procedure, not a peep show."

"True pleasure comes only from God, boys, not from self-abuse," The Reverent intoned.

"And you'll grow hair on your knuckles," Jimmy muttered in Chad's ear. "And go blind."

Mrs. Snetch walked to the other side of the chairs. She held the boys' briefs up, one in each hand, so each was right in front of a girl's face. "I'm going to fold these so that the inside of the lower center rear section faces outward," she said. You know what part of the boys that piece of cloth has been against. I have decided to take the boys' word for their cleanliness, so I won't be examining their underpants to see if they're clean or disgusting. After all, to put it in acceptable terms, you've made these boys eat excrement, figuratively – both of you have. It's only right that you be exposed to some of that yourself."

"Eat shit, Git!" Jimmy muttered in Chad's ear. Chad stifled a giggle. S. F., who was close enough to overhear, looked scandalized.

Courtney tried to see the cloth in front of her through her bleary eyes to see if it was skid-marked, but her mother was already folding. "Open," she said. Courtney hesitated. "Open, or you will be caned on your genitals as well," her mother added.

The horror of that possibility galvanized Courtney to full cooperation, and she opened her mouth widely, letting her mother stuff it full of cloth. The cotton in her mouth still radiated body heat from its intimate association with one of her cousins' warm buttocks. She was sure she could detect a faint mustiness, a strongly boyish odor, but then it was gone and she wondered if she'd imagined it. She tasted nothing at all, her saliva simply soaking in to the cotton. "That was Jeremy's, if you're wondering," Mrs. Snetch said. "It might be a bit warmer because of his recent seat warming. Your partner in crime gets Matty's." She handed the other underpants to Mrs. Git.

"Open wide, Sugarbuns," Mrs. Git said to Emily. Emily glared at her. "Open wide, or I'll have the nice young man with the oriental eyes press the button on the harness again. He seems to enjoy doing it so."

Emily reluctantly opened her mouth and let her mother cram Matty's underpants into it. She shuddered mentally but didn't show it – who knew in what sort of shape a little cock-sucker like that would keep his underpants! She hadn't looked at them when they'd been held in front of her, and she didn't want to know what the part against her tongue had endured during the day. She knew perfectly well that kids farted into their underpants all the time – boys were even proud of it sometimes, ripping a big one and grinning at everyone at their cleverness. But she'd already had Piggy's underpants in her mouth today – this little shit's drawers couldn't be worse. Besides, the events coming up were more central – the whipping she'd gotten in class from S. F. had been excruciating, with each cut of the thin switch almost more than she could bear. She could still feel the stinging marks all over her body, on her genitals as well as her buttocks. How would she stand the additional force of the much heftier cane?

But stand it she would. Like a condemned prisoner standing on the trap door with a noose already around his neck, she could do nothing to stop events, nothing at all. But if she'd been standing on the trap, she could have at least convinced herself that it would be quick, and might not even hurt. She couldn't do that here – this was going to hurt, probably worse than anything in her life. And even when it was over, and that seemed an eternity away, she was going to this pervert's holy roller camp or farm or whatever, where she'd probably be bored to death with prayer meetings and sermons and lectures on chastity and who knew what else. So she wasn't eager to get it over with, wasn't even eager to start. Yet she hated begin bent over, so vulnerable and – and visible to everyone. . And to think she'd once felt that Chad getting a quick glimpse of her immature vulva had been a big deal! But now, all the boys staring at her wide open genitals, her surgically repaired anus, and her blistered bottom. She could almost feel their piggy little eyes boring into her, trying to drill into her vagina. It wasn't fair, being born with something that you were supposed to let other people invade, a body part that was intended for boys to stick their own special body parts into. Boys. She hated the word. It was a nasty word, a word to describe those uncouth little pecker-toters. Yet it wasn't a bad enough word for them. Vermin, that's what they should call them. Skins full of farts and crap. Invaders. Violators. Despoilers. Like Chad had despoiled her today. She couldn't control her shudder as the picture hit her again. He'd had that turd-thing of his right inside her, buried up to the hilt in her feminine warmth. Probably spilled his dick snot in her, trying to force her to have his babies. Her mother had given her a pill, a pill that prevented any fertilized eggs from getting started in the uterus – RU-something, she'd called it, some number. It didn't matter. All that mattered was that Chad's dirty, disgusting boy part had been inside her, had violated her in that private place. And worse, she'd like it.

She'd liked it. She'd actually jumped on him, for some insane reason needing him inside her, and she'd liked it. He'd felt good inside her – throbbing and hot an alive and slimy and slick all at the same time. He'd felt just right. She'd needed him desperately, and she could still feel that rock hardness separating her pussy lips, filling the yearning inside her. And secret fantasies of taking Chad to the woods, making him do it again and again, making him be her slave and fuck her again and again – she couldn't get them out of her head. Making him lick her down there, even suck gently on her enlarged clitoris, so like an erect nipple (or a juvenile penis). Make him fuck her, hard and fast, even when he was tired and his ass was sore from the effort. Spanking him, and paddling him, too, to keep him in line, making him submit over her lap like a baby, and making him cry, then ordering him to fuck her again. It made her genitals tingle, even though her genitals were exposed and open. If she only could be waiting for Chad to come behind her and mount her. But he'd have to stand on a stool, wouldn't he? He was absurdly short. And she was tied, so she wouldn't be in command, because she was waiting...

Waiting to be caned, she though, her ardor toward getting physical with Chad draining out of her. She was waiting for Reverend Pervert to give that cane, thicker than her thumb, a might swing, rupturing delicate tissue, shear skin from muscle, and fill her with pain she couldn't even imagine, because she couldn't imagine anything worse than the paddling and whipping she'd gotten today. She sensed the Reverend move behind her, felt the cane brush her bare, jutting buttocks. Not yet! Not yet! It was too soon! She wasn't ready!

But The Reverend and only brushed the cane across Emily's butt to remind her of the veritable death sentence she was facing, and already he was lining up behind Courtney, tapping the thick cane to her bared, already sore buttocks. Pulling back, he didn't hesitate, didn't allow Courtney to tense or take a deep breath and hold it -- he swung hard and fast, putting most of his weight into the blow. The cane whistled and made a surprisingly loud, damp smacking noise, almost like a rifle shot, as it landed on tortured, bare flesh. Courtney's butt shivered in disbelief as the cane landed, and then Courtney was screaming into her gag, her butt clenching and convulsing, her back arching as she bucked and tried to absorb the pain, the chair rocking and lurching with her movements, so that her mother had to reach over and push down on the seat to steady it. The Reverend calmly lined up behind Emily and delivered a matching blow. Emily didn't thrash, but her buttocks clenched tightly, every welt and blister losing color, and every muscle in her back tensed as well as she fought the incredible pain. Courtney's butt was still dancing in the air, but now a livid red tram line crossed the centers of her buns, bulging visibly as the fascinated boys watched. S. F.'s hands went involuntarily under his skirt to clutch his butt in sympathy, and Matty grabbed his own little penis again for reassurance, this time studiously ignored by his aunt.

The Reverend waited patiently for Courtney's thrashing to die down. It was his experience that children being caned tired of their histrionics fairly quickly, a combination of exhaustion from the physical ordeal itself and the fact that thrashing increased the pain in the buttocks rather markedly. And that proved to be the case here – Courtney continued moaning, but her thrashing died to feeble twitching and then just a trembling of her torso that made her breasts shake as they hung down. Emily, meanwhile, had gradually relaxed her clenching and was waiting stiffly for the next blow, breathing hard through her nose but not moaning. The Reverend tapped Courtney's buttocks with his cane just about the length of Chad's erect penis from his first stripe across her ruined buttocks, making her go white again and tense slightly, a pathetic moan escaping her lips. He withdrew the cane, then brought it crashing down on the trembling bare flesh with what looked like all his strength. The cane whistled louder this time and Courtney's shrieks could be heard even muffled by the gag as it landed. Her thrashing was even more intense this time as a second red weal appeared, perfectly parallel to the first. She wasn't broken yet, The Reverend thought to himself, but she would be long before he was done – she'd lie there limply and take his offerings, truly submitting to God at last. Perhaps she might even experience God's glory. He moved over to the girl he thought of as "The Sixth," and tapped his cane to her buttocks. She didn't twitch, didn't look over her shoulder at him to watch the horror descending to her fundament – she'd break, too, but it would take longer – perhaps not until he was chastising the entrance to her holy garden tonight, perhaps not even then. She might continue to defy God's will for some time yet, but she'd break. She was going to be a mule, and the mules all broke eventually, becoming the dumb, neutered beasts of burden their name implied. He hoped she would be a long time breaking – he liked a challenge. He pictured her yoked but still defiant, her bare flanks scarred from the whip as her drover slowly taught her blind obedience tied to the cart or the plow during the day, and tied in her stall during the night. Once broken, a mule was so grateful to be returned to human status that he or she became completely compliant to God's will. When this one broke, she might even rise up, spiritually, and perhaps even join the godly, the ones like him who had accepted God's grace and been rewarded. He could imagine her turning the anger she felt toward boys and their sinfulness toward sin itself. She could even be a ward leader! But first she must be cleansed, and she must learn, and learning occurred only through the fire of pain. With God's fire in his gut, he raised the cane high and brought it crashing down on the welted butt.

Little time passed before Courtney did give up, going limp by the 4th blow and simply sagging against her bonds, letting The Reverend whip her unresisting bottom the requisite 6 times, 6 livid stripes evenly spaced across her fundament.

"God's will be done," he said, nodding at the neatness of his work. Courtney was insensate, simply continuing to sob and moan through her underpants, gage. Emily, though, continued to tense and clench her buttocks through each blow, grunting loudly but not screaming as Courtney did. The Reverend nodded to the girl's defiant glare after his sixth blow raised a sixth livid weal on her purple and red buttocks.

"For your partner, that was the end. But for you, my dear blasphemer, that was only a beginning, merely a prelude to the pain to come. The hell that awaits sinners, the one to which you, with your willfulness are bound, will make what you've just experienced feel like a Sunday picnic," he said to her over Courtney's moans. "In a moment, I will give you a taste of what real, cleansing pain feels like. God created entrance to Eve's garden to be sensitive precisely for lessons like this one." Walking behind her, he lined the cane up with the left side of her wide open labia. Emily fought not to beg, to cry, to do anything to prevent her precious vulva becoming as bruised as her swollen, aching butt was. Yet, unbidden, she pictured the cane tip as Chad's penis, hard and jutting and ready to enter her as Chad approached from behind.

Dakota was sitting with Tommy as he munched mechanically on dry toast, his designated dinner according to Beth's instructions. To her credit, she'd not burned it, as Beth had ordered, but merely dried it out to the point where it was barely edible. Gabriel sat on the other side of the table, bouncing up and down in just his briefs, describing to his sister in lurid detail all the things he and Tommy had just done. "And then he licked my butt crack, right on the hole!" he said. "Twice! Right across the hole! And he sucked my peter! Until I came! It was great! And that was it!"

He beamed at his sister. Dakota smirked at Tommy. "My, you are a boy of many talents, cousin," she said mockingly. "Good with the boys and the girls."

"I'm making you suck me again tonight," Gabriel said shamelessly. He paused a minute. "Whaddya mean, he's good with the girls? What girl did he ever do stuff with?"

"She means the ones at school," Tommy muttered quickly, spitting out toast crumbs to forestall anything Dakota might say. "Aiesha and that crowd. They liked looking at me naked."

"Oh," Gabriel said. He leaned over and looked down at Tommy's crotch. "Most of the orange stuff is gone," he said. "Your peter looks almost normal. But it's kinda shriveled. How come you don't have a stiffy? I'd think you'd be horny after not getting to play with yourself for so long. I'm surprised you don't have a stiffy all the time!"

If you only knew, Tommy thought to himself. How many orgasms had he had in the last day? He started counting backward. One up Wayne's hot, tight butt, and not exactly unwilling butt. One in Jesse's mouth. One in Jesse's butt. One... God, there were so many? How many boys had he had sex with in the last few day? He'd butt-fucked two virgins in the last few days, Wayne and Jesse. Or maybe it was three – hadn't Elvin said that his friends dicky was too short to do butt stuff with Elvin? Or had he said that his friend could get it in, but not all that well? Well, it didn't matter if Elvin was an anal virgin, he certainly wasn't an innocent. And neither was Gabriel, who he'd assaulted and started all this. Now it turned out Gabriel had taken lots of boy "up the chute" as he'd put it, in his days of bouncing around various unsavory homes. And he'd lost his own anal virginity -- he'd been butt fucked by three different boys in the last 3 days, each a first for him – Gabriel, Elvin, and the strange boy in Wayne's apartment house. He hadn't taken Jesse there yet, but he would, he was fairly sure – probably sooner rather than later, even if Jesse's dick was short, they'd manage. So how many boys started their sexual experiences with a parade that large? Well, technically his brother had had to suck more penises, counting the 10 boys in the 4th grade, and Jesse, and the Morton twins, and himself back when Chad was being punished, but those were forced on him, not voluntary. Oh, and Alan what's his name, too, the kid Jesse admitted he'd tried to get it on with. Heck, he should be mad at Jesse for that little betrayal – and for the multiple times he'd sucked Chad before he'd sucked Tommy. Jesse had made Chad the gift of his first oral experience, not him, a thought that still caused him twinges of jealousy. But not his butt – Tommy had gotten that, and he felt a surprising pride at the thought.

"Gotta pee!" Gabriel suddenly sang out, jumping up from his chair.

"You just went," Tommy said. He wished he had something other than warm water to drink – it killed the thirst and made it possible to swallow the toast, but it wasn't refreshing.

"Well, you know what they say about apple juice – you don't buy it, you just rent it!" Gabriel said cheerfully.

"That's beer, not apple juice," Dakota said. "You're such a dork."

"Beer, apple juice – It all looks the same going in as coming out," Gabriel said, charging out the door.

"You didn't have to jump in there like that, you know," Dakota said to Tommy when he was gone. "Like I was going to blab something. I have no intention of ruining my good thing with you by telling anyone about it – a tongue like yours is hard to find." She gave Tommy an evil grin. "Feel like going another round?"

Tommy's face showed his dismay. He couldn't do that again, not now! Dakota laughed. "You dick gobblers are all the same –you'll suck up some guy's pisser, and even swallow the snot that spits out of it, you'll stick your dicks in each other's assholes. Even worse, you suck the dick that you know has been up your own asshole – little brother is a case in point. But ask you to do something normal like lick a pussy or fuck it, and you turn all green. It's priceless!"

"I' m—I'm tired," Tommy said. "Really. My tongue and my mouth—all of me, actually. I carried books by my balls all afternoon, and then you made me – well, that had to have been more than an hour, and that's a long time to do that! And the Chapstick thing – that was hard! I thought it wasn't going to come out for awhile. And it hurt!"

"Relax," Dakota said. "I was just yanking your dick. It's so easy to do! I won't be ready for another round for at least three of four days! I'm not a nympho, you know." Down the hall, they both heard the front door open. "Besides, that's either your dear brother or dear sister, so either way we wouldn't have time now. But by the end of the week, you'll hear from me, believe me.

Nympho? Tommy puzzled to himself. What the heck was a nympho? Sounded like something that belonged in a Dr. Seuss book. Nymphos marching through the night, prancing with their tails curled tight. Nymphos with their vacant stares, wonder if they go somewheres? He almost giggled to himself. God, he hoped it was Chad coming in the door – he wasn't ready to take Beth on again, and he really wanted Chad's moral support. The thought amazed him. How much things had changed over the last few days, that he was looking to Chad not as someone to annoy or to demean, but as a fellow boy, an ally?

Courtney had not been released after her caning, and thus she was creating a background beat with her rhythmic, muffled sobbing as she added to the wet, snotty puddle she'd created behind the chair she was tied to, tears running continuously down her face and joining the snot pooling above her lip and dripping wetly to the floor. She was still in a red haze centered around her exposed, beaten butt, every mark, every welt, and every stripe a livid nightmare of throbbing agony. She was oblivious to the boys' open gaze at her exposed, bare pussy, still unmarked except for slight redness from being waxed, and, in Chad's and Jimmy's opinions, one of the most enticing things they'd ever seen. S. F. was at war with himself, wanting to look but feeling guilty about wanting to look, trying to tell himself that to gaze upon the body of a female as would her husband was a venal sin, but unable to stop his eyes from drifting back to the sight. Randy was embarrassed – embarrassed because his dick was hard as a rock and poking his pants out where anyone could see it if they looked at him, and embarrassed because of the fact it didn't poke his pants out all that much, even so, and thus appeared to be escaping notice. And Alan—

Alan was watching The Reverend tease Emily's pussy lips with his cane, stroking them gently in an effort to prolong the agony of anticipation. Whether it was working on Emily was hard to say – she was breathing heavily but not crying, not visibly, and her muscular control was still quite firm and rigid, despite The Reverend's attention to a formerly private and sensitive area. All of this was registering with Alan, but he wasn't really thinking of it – not in the front of his mind. He was thinking about love, and lust, and the vagaries and confusions of the world.

Specifically, Chad confused him. Confused him, raised unsettling longings in him, and frustrated him. He just couldn't figure out where he stood with Chad. Chad had stated several times, now, in no uncertain terms, that he didn't want to do sex stuff with Alan or other boys. Yet, in the bathroom, he'd given a completely different signal, exposing and flaunting his genitals and buttocks to Alan, saying he was Alan's friend and that he trusted Alan. And what was that crap about not minding if Alan looked? Looking meant wanting to have – didn't Chad know that – he was a boy, after all! He couldn't look at Chad and not want him – to see was to desire, and to desire was to want to touch, to stroke, to fondle, to give pleasure and get it – how could he expect Alan to stop once he started down that road?

Or did he want Alan to stop? Was he just playing coy with his claims of not wanting sex with boys? Did Chad want to be pursued, persuaded, or conquered? His cousin had been like that, the one who had gotten him into trouble – playing coy, inviting Alan to touch him but then pushing his hand aside, letting Alan tease him to orgasm and then threatening to tell on him, each time letting Alan go a bit farther before stopping him, always pretending that he wasn't interested and it was Alan's doing, yet making sure he got Alan in quiet, private places alone, letting Alan always take the preliminary steps without stopping him, waiting until Alan was straining with excitement, then saying he didn't want to do it, so Alan never knew how far he could go. And when Alan had pressed it, had gone farther, he'd tattled to Alan's mom and Alan had gotten his butt worn out by his mom (but at least that time had been in private). Was this just a game Chad was playing? Because Alan hated games – hated them with a passion. Why was it so hard for a guy to just say, "hey, I like your cock, you like mine, let's do each other?" "You want to do that? I want to do it, too!"

Never happen, he thought with discouragement. No, you have to feel them out, then they drag their feet the whole way, and turn on you in the end. Like his cousin had, selling him out, saying Alan had taken him by force. But it hadn't really been force – the boy had expressed doubts and said, "don't" many times, but each time he'd given way eventually. How was Alan to know which "don't" didn't count? The little skunk had liked it fine when he was moaning and thrusting his little cock, but when Alan wanted him to reciprocate, to suck Alan in return, or, at least, touch him a little, for God's sake, suddenly the story was that he'd forced the other boy. If he pushed Chad, would Chad turn on him, too? Or was Chad secretly as eager as him? He looked sidelong at Chad, sitting more closely to the other two boys, S. F. still almost hiding behind him, Jimmy close by his side, the comfort of old friends who knew each others' spaces. What did Chad want? What was his game?

Actually, it was the same question Chad was pondering at the same time. Why had he said and done the things he'd done in the bathroom earlier? Yeah, he trusted Alan, and he liked him, but why had he blatantly waved his genitals at Alan like that? And saying that Alan could look at him any time – where had that come from? Why had he felt that tingle when imagining Alan thinking about him while masturbating? He'd actually pictured Alan stroking his long, thin cock when he'd said it. Did he want Alan to touch him? Did he really like boys after all? He tried picturing Alan naked, something he did easily after the punishments the two had shared. He'd spanked Alan's butt, after all, and sucked his cock for many long minutes, and could readily picture the intimate parts of the other boy's body. He did feel a tingle of interest when he pictured these things, but it wasn't powerful and his mind wandered.

He was still looking at Courtney's ruined backside and her perfect pussy, and he started wondering what Cynthia looked like naked. She had breasts as big as Courtney's – Cynthia's would probably stand up, white and perfect, with big nipples a nice dark pink. And down there, between her legs, she probably had just the slightest covering of hair, a nice, smooth, gentle down like his own pubic hair, only a bit thicker, perhaps, though not enough to hide her genital furrow, that inviting pink divide that girls had kept hidden completely from his eyes until a few weeks back. He pictured Cynthia coming toward him naked as Courtney was, pert breasts pointing toward him as she approached, her arms wide to receive him, her pussy flexing as she walked, opening shyly to share its secrets with him, those warm, moist places for him to probe with finger and stiff cock...

It was so confusing – he liked girls better than boys, no question about it. The thought of holding Cynthia, exploring her female parts, was enormously exciting. But he could picture lying on a bed with Alan, too, cuddling him like he had Gabriel as he softly teased Alan's boy parts, stroking his erection, pressing his own hard dick into the warmth of Alan's tight buttocks...

But holding Cynthia in bed would be good, too – would be better, in fact. He pictured himself gently exploring her breasts, teasing her nipples as he pressed his hard boyhood into her soft nether cleft, hearing her tell him that he felt so hard against her, and that he would feel so good inside her...

His hard-on was straining his tight pants uncomfortably, bringing him back to reality. And what was reality? He liked girls best. That's why he'd told Alan, and his brother, and Gabriel, that he wasn't into boys at all. But that couldn't be true – because he could picture having sex with boys, and it was a bit exciting. He'd liked it when Jesse sucked him initially, and he'd even enjoyed his and Alan's mutual sucking session, although having to pull out when he came was disappointing. In the back of his mind, he knew that Tommy would suck him tonight, and he'd enjoy it, and enjoy his brother in the submission position on his knees in front of him while he did it. And he'd snuggle down against Gabriel's back with Gabriel's little stiffy against his palm and his own organ pressed against smooth, soft buttock skin, and he'd enjoy the feeling of that, too, and enjoy holding the other boy's stiff organ. Would it be so bad to do sex stuff with Alan? Just for now? Because sex with Cynthia seemed an impossible distance away, nothing but a pipe dream.

The Reverend drew the cane back, removing it from Emily's genitals and letting the tip point to the ground. "It is time, young lady," he growled. "Prepare yourself for a taste of the hell your life will be for the next few weeks." Emily didn't twitch, didn't react, in fact didn't move a muscle. Her pussy, marred by switch marks, didn't even tremble, merely awaiting its fate, the ragged lips separating the two vulnerable targets of the Reverend's wrath.

The cane whistled and landed precisely in the center of Emily's left labia. Emily's body stiffened and her buttocks contracted involuntarily, squeezing the color out of her marked butt and making it appear skeletally thin. The binding of her thighs to the chair kept her from closing her legs, though, so that her pussy remained visible to the watching boys. A red line immediately appeared on the smooth skin, a weal rising immediately to disfigure that side of her cunt. Emily kept squeezing her butt, panting while a low moaning issued from deep in her throat. Her pussy lips began trembling, and suddenly a gush of liquid spurted from between them, flooding down the insides of her thighs to the floor.

"She's peeing!" Randy exclaimed, as a puddle spread around her feet. "That's pee! That's pee!"

"Duh!" Jimmy muttered, but he was watching, his eyes glittering. S. F. looked more horrified than interested, and Alan looked downright disgusted. Mrs. Snetch dropped a towel in the puddle and pushed it back and forth with her foot and then stepped back, out of The Reverend's way. The Reverend, who had let the cane drop after its blow to the girl's delicate parts, raised it again and began playing the top across the genital region, poking the new weal, probing the virgin skin on the other side, and generally trying to keep Emily's attention focused on the blow to come. As the boys waited, the right side of Emily's cunt gradually swelled, bulging unevenly compared to the left. Emily continued the unearthly moaning, her butt now convulsing rather than clenched, so that her butt hole was alternately visible and then hidden, twitching and pursing like a perambulating amoeba.

The Reverend drew back the cane. Emily's convulsions continued, and she was twisting her head this way and that, as if trying to find some position that allowed her to cope with the throbbing pain. The cane descended again with a wet "Whap!" and two things happened. Emily's moans rose to an unearthly shriek. And a vile, brown, noxious ooze gushed out of the ragged slit of her butt hole, flooding down her inner thighs, across her bruised pussy, and onto the floor.

The boys recoiled. "She pooped herself! That girl – she pooped herself!" Matty exclaimed.

"Disgusting!" Jimmy Chen said, holding his nose. "Just when I thought Git couldn't get any worse!"

"Children often soil themselves when being caned," The Reverend intoned. "It's part of God's symbolic cleansing."

"It stinks to high heaven!" Jimmy retorted. The other boys were now holding their noses as well.

"You boys may go into the living room," Mrs. Snetch said firmly. "The punishment is done, anyway. You can wait there while we adults clean up in here. I'll bring Courtney in soon to thank you for coming and to apologize for her behavior."

The grateful boys fled the now noxious garage en masse, little Matty's penis flopping as he ran, Jeremy's standing at attention. Alan couldn't help noticing their resemblance to Chad from behind – both boys had those pert little muscular butts that made his own genitals tingle.

In the living room, there was little conversation, all the boys trying to come to grips with what they'd witnessed, including Emily's graphic display ending the proceedings. Jeremy found out there were still cookies from dinner and fell to with Matty, Randy quickly joining them. Chad, S. F., and Jimmy sat on the couch, and Alan took a chair to the side, unconsciously drawing a line between him and the other boys.

"Quite a show," Alan finally said.

"Best I've seen," Jimmy said with a grin. "Although that ending needs work – too graphic for my tastes."

"I need to be getting home," Chad said. "I don't know if I can trust my sister not to kill my brother without me around. And I promised my cousin I wouldn't be too long. He's afraid of my sister, too."

"He's afraid of your sister?" Randy said, his mouth full of cookie crumbs. "Why?"

"Heck, even I'm afraid of Chad's sister," Jimmy said. "And you would be too, if you ever met her."

Emily Git stepped into the living room from the kitchen. She was walking very slowly and stiffly, taking tiny steps and wincing visibly with each. The gag was still in her mouth, crusty drool leaking from the sides, and her eyes brimmed with tears, now, but she still was able to look daggers at each boy somehow, and she might be bowed but she was clearly undefeated. Her flat chest was ignored by the boys, who all immediately had eyes drawn to her pussy. Her pubic mound was now swollen vastly, her labia bulging like twin melon halves pressing tightly together, her pussy only a tight slit under the pressure. Each was marred with a bulging purple weal running down each side, making a V. Her wrists were cuffed tightly behind her, and her legs were in leg irons, joined by a short chain, but she was taking even shorter steps, holding her striped butt stiff as she walked. One welt, the third from the bottom, was bleeding slightly. The pair of them moved steadily through the room. Mrs. Git hurried ahead to open the front door so Courtney could be guided through it.

"God go with you, boys," The Reverend intoned as the two of them reached the far door. Emily's butt was still damp, evidence of the hosing off she'd been given in the yard before being brought out. "I imagine I'll be seeing some of you again soon."

"Not if I can help it," Jimmy muttered under his breath.

"Amen," S. F. said loudly. The Reverend, who hadn't heard Jimmy's comment, smiled, thinking S. F. was responding directly to his own blessing. Perhaps there was hope for that one, he thought. He seemed a more Godly boy than before his friend Mrs. Ardmore had taken a hand. He'd heard about the session second hand, of course, but he admired the older woman's creativity. He stopped out, guiding his new charge.

Mrs. Git smiled at the boys as she turned to pull the door shut after her.

"I hope I'll be seeing more of you boys," she said with a wink, shutting the door. "Not that I haven't liked what I did see."

Jimmy and Chad looked at each other. "Was she coming on to us?" Jimmy asked. Chad shrugged.

Mrs. Snetch and Courtney came through the other living room door, the one joining the kitchen. "Boys, stand up," Mrs. Snetch said. "Courtney has something to say to you." Behind her, Courtney moved slowly and painfully through the door, walking on her knees, her hands also cuffed behind her and a short chain leading from the cuffs to her mother's grip. Her mother yanked the chain to hurry her. Courntey waddled slowly over to Chad. She licked her lips and worked her mouth, her face puffy and red, her eyes bloodshot. Chad couldn't keep his eyes off her bare breasts, thrusting boldly in front of her at about the level of his knees.

"I'm s- s- sorry we tried to get you in trouble, Chad," she said haltingly. Her mother yanked the chain, and she moved to S. F., repeating her apology. One by one she circled the room, apologizing to each boy. When she had finished, her mother spoke up.

"Now these boys need to go home. The question is, should you go with me for the humiliation of public exposure, or should you stay here and be punished in other ways."

Courtney continued looking at the ground, contrite and cooperative now that her butt was blistered, welted and striped. Jimmy spoke up. 'Um, ma'am? If I could make one other small request?"

"What?" Mrs. Snetch barked.

"It's just – it's just that Courtney's apology, it's – it's too easy. It's real easy to just say 'I'm sorry.' An apology should be harder – it should take courage, and working up you nerve. And it should be humiliating – it should reduce a person in the eyes of the other people. I think Courtney should have to do something that's hard for her, and humiliating. Something that shows she knows she's lowered herself to us, us boys that is, and needs to work her way up again. I think she should have to kiss our butts – all of us."

"Yeah," Jeremy chimed in. "He's right! Courtney should have to kiss our butts!"

"Yeah, right on the doo-doo hole!" Matty added. He turned his still bare butt toward Courtney, leaned forward, spread his cheeks, and said, over his shoulder, "Right there!" trying to point to his butt hole while spreading his cheeks with the same hand. His little anal starburst, pink and clean, twitched in invitation over the smooth skin tapering to a tight, neat sack between his legs. Chad noted in the back of his mind that Alan was looking right at it without trying to look like he was looking. He wondered if Alan was into butt holes – his brother Tommy seemed to have quite an interest in them, at least if his treatment of Chad when he'd been punished was any sign.

"Now wait a minute, guys," Randy said. "I'm not sure I want to..."

""Hey, it's only fair," S. F. piped up in a squeaky voice. "As ye sow, so shall ye reap. She shall be brought low, lower than the animals, and in being brought low, know God," he quoted solemnly.

"But we'd have to—to take down our pants..." Randy said.

"Mine are already off," Jeremy said. "And so are Matty's. We're ready." He postured, thrusting his little butt at Courtney and arching his back. "There you are, Court. Go nuts!"

"You don't have to show your front, Randy," Jimmy said. "Although I don't see why that matters. We're all boys, right Chad? We all have the same stuff, isn't that what you say? And Chad's not afraid to show his stuff, so why should you be?"

"But, but..." Randy said, looking pointedly at Mrs. Snetch.

"Aw, come on!" Jimmy said, catching his meaning. "She's seen dicks before, I bet – probably lots of them! She's seen those guys'! And she's seen Chad and me already, too. And after what we did in the bathro.... I mean, you can just act like she's your mom."

"What did you do in the bathroom?" S. F. asked, his eyes showing interest.

"Never mind," Jimmy said. "The point is, she's a mom, just like your mom, so it shouldn't bother you.

"Mi madre nunca ve el pepe... My mother doesn't see mine, ever," Randy said. "Well, hardly ever."

"Probably can't, even if he runs around butt naked," Jeremy muttered.

"Hey, watch your mouth – Randy's my friend," Jimmy snapped to Jeremy. "Friends don't make fun of friends' dicks. Heck, friends don't even talk about friend's dicks. We act like we don't see them, right Chad."

Jeremy locked eyes with the bigger boy, appearing to be considering challenging him. "Sorry," he finally muttered, apparently having decided locking horns with the unpredictable Jimmy wasn't wise. His little penis drooped visibly, reflecting his diminished stature among the boys.

Mrs. Snetch looked at Courtney, who was clearly not liking this conversation at all. "You are a cheeky, mouthy, and probably perverted little boy," she said firmly to Jimmy Chen. "And if you were mine, I'd tan your little behind."

"My mom already does," Jimmy said. "Quite a lot, actually."

"Good," Mrs. Snetch said. "Perhaps I should look her up and offer to loan her a bigger paddle. Still, much as I hate to admit it, you have made a valid point. Courtney does need to, voluntarily, demonstrate that she's learned her lesson and is humbling herself to you boys, and I can only think of one thing more humbling than what you suggest. And Courtney, you are, after all, already on your knees. We can begin with Matty and Jeremy, since they are already bare, and then move through the rest of you boys. Matty, spread your bottom a bit more to give Courtney clear access. Courtney, crawl over to your cousin on your knees and kiss his bottom."

"P- p- please!" Courtney begged. Her voice was ragged and hoarse from crying and moaning for hours, and from the strain of speaking when all her attention was on her throbbing, burning buttocks and the soap bars in her rectum and vagina that were still burning her.

"You can kiss each one, or you can take 2 strokes of the cane from each one – your choice," her mother suggested helpfully. Courtney's eyes widened in terror at the mention of the cane.

"No, not that – please not that!" she moaned. She began shuffling on her knees over to where Matty was helpfully spreading his butt and arching it her direction. Leaning in, she planted a quick peck on Matty's smooth left bun cheek.

"Not there!" Matty protested. "She has to kiss the hole! Tell her she has to kiss the do-do hole!"

"Courtney," her mother said sternly. "Kiss your cousin's anus."

Courtney released a sob, the tears flowing freely again out of her puffy eyes. But she ducked her head between Matty's buns and pressed her lips to his tightly pursed slit. Matty began giggling and jumped away, letting go of his butt. "That tickles," he said over his laughing.

"Now me!" Jeremy commanded. He leaned forward and, like his brother, spread his butt cheeks, still slightly pink in spots from his earlier spanking. His tight hole, slightly browner than his brother's, peeked out. Courtney, still crying, dutifully planted her lips on that pursed orifice as well, looking like she was going to gag as she pulled back. The room was still for a moment. Then Jimmy Chen stepped forward.

"I'll go next," he said. He pulled his pants down by the sides, heedless of the display of his twisted penis, still bearing the word "Penis" printed on it in magic marker. He leaned forward, placing his palms on his knees. Courtney hesitated, looking at Jimmy's butt. Chad and the other boys noticed that Jimmy still had faint scars from being whipped several weeks ago, scars that were on the base of his scrotum and around his anus as well as on his butt. His brown butt hole winked at Courtney, as he contracted it deliberately in provocation. Courtney, clearly building up her courage, leaned forward and kissed him full on the anus. Jimmy tensed, focusing. He's going to fart in her face, Chad thought to himself suddenly. But nothing happened, and Courtney withdrew and backed away. Jimmy pulled his pants up, obviously frustrated. He looked at Chad and shrugged. "Up to you, buddy," he said amiably.

Surprising Chad, who figured he'd have to be next, Alan stepped forward manfully, turned his back to Courtney, and pulled down the back of his pants below his buttocks without making the front go any lower than just where the base of his penis would be. Leaving them caught under the cleft of his buttocks, he reached back and very deliberately spread his butt wide, exposing his anus to Chad and the others on that side of the room, as well as Mrs. Snetch. The last time Chad had seen it, it had been red, sore, and protruding from being invaded by a candle and then irritated by burning hot sauce, and thus had looked like a bulging, red ring with in indented center slit. Now the other boy's anus was flat and wrinkled and pink, and the slit tight but still indented. Courtney, crying harder, brushed her lips against the tight asterisk, and in moments Alan was clothed again and standing to one side looking bored.

Chad figured he'd have to go then, but surprisingly it was S. F. who stepped forward. He flipped the skirt up and trapped it against his torso with his upper arms, the slid down his underpants far enough to expose his bottom. He was still horribly scarred by his flogging with nettles and the many spankings he'd received, the welts and blisters less red than Saturday but still obviously painful. The scars, Chad could see when he bend forward, holding the skirt up and his underpants down, went all the way to his anus, which was also covered with irritated blisters. Courtney stared at it distastefully through leaking eyes.

"Look," S. F. said, speaking in his surprisingly high pitched voice for a boy who was hung like a horse. "Look at me back there. Because you caused that," S. F. said calmly. "You and Emily did it. I didn't do anything, but you got me whipped so bad back there I still can't go to the bathroom without my dad's help. You did that. Look on your works, and despair! You can humble yourself to me, but are you right with God?"

Stifling a stronger sob, Courtney tried to kiss S. F.'s butt hole but found her lips couldn't contact it with his butt only partially separated. She reached up, gently cupped each still tortured cheek, and spread them almost lovingly. Leaning in slowly, she pressed a slow kiss onto the distorted surface, kept her lips there for a long count of 5, then pulled back. "I'm sorry," she hiccupped softly to the boy's butt. "I'm so sorry! I just wanted to see...I never meant for this to happen."

"The road to hell is paved with good intentions," S. F. snapped back. "It still hurts like you wouldn't believe. That is, when it's not itching." S. F. struggled with his underpants, trying to tuck his oversized genitals away without making them visible to Mrs. Snetch. He slipped behind Alan, partially hiding himself, to finish the job. Alan involuntarily glanced down, catching a quick glimpse of S. F.'s still sore, irritated penis before it disappeared again. But he didn't feel that shiver of excitement that looking at Chad gave him – it wasn't just the organ, it was the person it was attached to.

Chad looked at Randy. Randy looked ready to wet himself. Chad stepped forward. Trying to act calm, although his heart was racing, he undid his pants button, pulled down his zipper, and pressed his pants down, headless of the exposure of his penis. True to form, it had reverted to button status, as it often did when he was anxious, and his balls were pulled tight under it, giving him an even more little-boy appearance than Matty. But belying that, the downy hairs scattered on his pubic triangle glinted in the light. Still tightly controlling his nervousness and trying not to worry about how small he was down there, Chad leaned forward and helpfully reached back and spread his butt. Out of the corner of his eye over his shoulder he watched the other kids. Jimmy was watching Courtney, and so was Randy. S. F. was still struggling with his underpants front. Jeremy and Matty were sharing a private comment behind shielding hands. And Alan was watching him, not Courtney, doing it by looking sideways so it wouldn't look like he was watching, but clearly looking right into Chad's spread butt. And as he watched, Alan's dick suddenly twitched visibly in his pants, and began hardening, making a visible tent.

For a moment Chad was overwhelmed with embarrassment. Then suddenly, it was gone, replaced by something like pride. He doesn't care, Chad thought with wonder. I look like a toddler down there, and he doesn't care! He likes looking at me anyway! Another thought hit him. He'd do me. He'd do sex with me, and the fact I'm hung like a gerbil doesn't matter. Maybe it wouldn't matter to Cynthia, either. Heck, maybe she likes guys who are hung like gerbils. Maybe it's easier the first time you do it if they guy's small. He thought about his punishment in the gauntlet, when they'd let the little boy he'd hurt butt fuck him in front of class. What if that had been a boy with a dick like S. F.'s! He'd still be healing down there!

Would it be so wrong to do sex stuff with Alan, even if Chad was thinking about girls, like Cynthia instead? Would it be so bad to let Alan touch him down there and pretend it was Cynthia? Chad wondered. It would make Alan happy. And he'd make me feel good in return. And it'd be easy – having sex with a girl seemed impossibly hard, but he'd just have to do a sleepover with Alan to have sex. What was stopping him?

Courtney's lips touching his anal ring brought him back to the present. They felt hot and dry, almost burning in intensity. At the same time, though, her cheeks, touching his butt cheeks, were cold and wet and slimy, covered with tears. She withdrew her face and he stood up, pulling up his pants. It wouldn't be right, he thought to himself. He couldn't just casually go do a sleep over with Alan. He'd be raising Alan's hopes, yet he'd be using Alan, because a relationship between them would never happen. He'd never feel that excitement toward Alan's body that Cynthia's raised in him. He'd probably like the sex, in a physical way, but he'd never love Alan. And that wouldn't be fair to his new friend. It might be fun, but it wouldn't be fair.

He saw Jimmy frowning at him. Was Jimmy reading his thoughts? Did Jimmy know that he'd actually seriously pondered a sexual relationship with Alan? Did they have a psychic friend connection of some time, and now Jimmy would denounce him in front of everyone? But Jimmy was looking a question at him – what could that question be?

Suddenly Chad remembered. "Couldn't do it," he mouthed. Jimmy smiled and shrugged a "me neither" back at Chad. Everyone looked at Randy. Randy, white as a sheet now, gulped nervously.

"Just do it," Jimmy Chen said.

"It's only fair," S. F. chimed in.

"She'd make you do it," Alan said suddenly.

"Yeah, come on – we all did it," Jeremy added.

"I bet your butt is huge!" Matty said.

Randy turned beet red. Oh, that was it, Chad thought. He's not afraid of us seeing his little dick, he's upset about being fat, and showing his fat butt. He caught Randy's eye. "We've all seen you, all of you," he said calmly. "And we like you anyway. And you'll never get another chance to get even like this. We won't even watch, will we, guys?"

"Not me," Jimmy said. "I'm looking over that way. And you guys aren't going to watch, either, are you," he said pointedly to Jeremy and Matty.

"It's not something I need to see," Jeremy said.

"Well, I want to wa—ooof!" Matty said, as Jeremy elbowed him in the side. He looked at Jeremy with a hurt expression and opened his mouth to object, but, seeing his brother's angry glare, shut his mouth again. He looked out the window pointedly, and Jeremy followed him. S. F. and Alan pointedly looked down at their shoes.

Randy's expression softened, and Chad wondered, suddenly, if he was going to cry. Then it hardened and became determination. He walked to Courtney, facing her. Yanking his buckle and dragging his zipper down in one tug, Randy dropped his pants all the way to his ankles with military precision, his boxers following. Standing, he glared at Courtney as if daring her to say anything about his penis, which was even more of a button than Chad's, or his fat-buried balls that looked like nothing but a wrinkled patch on his fat crotch. Turning around, her leaned forward like S. F. had, resting his bulk with palms against his knees, and thrust his wide butt at her. Courtney, her hands shaking, pressed her thumbs into the fat cheeks and separated the bottom half, trying to get access. She had grip his butt hard and push to make his became visible, lost in that vast expanse of butt-crack skin. Determined, Courtney spread his cheeks wider and forced her mouth between them, kissing him loudly on the anus, holding her mouth there as long as she had with S. F. Then she withdrew, tears still flowing freely. "I'm sorry," she said softly to the red, inflamed-looking, sweaty ring. "I'm really, really sorry I made them do that to you. I never meant to hurt you, either – I just wanted to – to see."

"Sorry don't feed the bulldog," Jeremy said. Matty hooted with laughter, starting to turn back toward Randy. Jeremy pointedly pointed as the window, and Matty turned his head again. As the window was covered with drapes, the intent was clear.

"Sorry doesn't feed the bulldog, he's right," Mrs. Snetch said. Randy struggled to get his pants back up.

"Okay," he said to no one and everyone. The other boys looked back his way.

Mrs. Snetch cleared her throat. "Okay, now that we have that done, Courtney, I'm not going to make you go with me to return the boys to their homes – I'll spare you that embarrassment. But that doesn't mean I'll go easy on you. Instead you will go to the corner and stay there until I return. You will stay on your knees, hands locked behind your head. No comforting your bottom, no water breaks, no bathroom breaks. We'll discuss whether you need any additional punishment before bedtime when I get home. I rather imagine a nice spanking on all those welts might be in order."

Courtney stifled a sob and waddled to the corner. Arriving there, she suddenly turned back to look at her mother. "There's – there's stuff on the floor," she said. "It hurts!"

"I spread dry rice there," her mother said. "You will stay on your knees and you will not try to remove the rice. The pain will help you focus on how lucky you are I didn't send you with that religious fanatic like everyone else wanted me to."

Courtney, visible wincing, settled her knees on the rice against the hard wooden floor, her distress visible. She shifted her weight from knee to knee, each apparently more painful then the other. She began crying softly again, but she remained on her knees in the corner. Chad winced in sympathy, glad he wasn't the one in her position, with rice grains digging into his sensitive knees.

"Come along, boys," Mrs. Snetch said. "Those of you who live close pile into the front, those farther away take the back. Thanks for your help, but it's time you went home."