Tommy's Attitude Adjustment Chapter 1

Tommy's Attitude Adjustment Chapter 1
by Chadlad

* * * * *
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.
* * * * *

Chapter 1: The First Victim

Thirteen-year-old Chad Henson, small, short, and physically immature, stood in the boys' bathroom on Friday morning, peeing powerfully into the urinal. As he did, he unconsciously played with the small gold ring piercing the knot of skin on his penis that was just under the head, flipping it between his index and second finger as he held his smallish penis between fingers and thumb. He looked at his genitals critically. He couldn't decide if his penis was actually bigger than it had been, or if the ring constantly stimulating it just kept it more aroused all the time. Either way, he looked bigger at the urinal, now, if any boys chanced to glance over the top and see his organ. Of course, that didn't make up for all the kids who'd seen him butt naked in the last two weeks with his little penis so shrunken that it almost disappeared into his body. It also didn't help him deal with the humiliations he'd suffered as he was forced to run the gauntlet, going from class to class only to be punished and humiliated in each one. He pushed his mind away from that – he had endured a humiliating week back at school already, and he'd keep enduring, but that didn't make it any easier to think about. As he prepared to shake the last drop off himself, Jimmy Chen breezed in and bellied up to the urinal next to him. Unlike Chad, he stood a bit back, making no attempt to hide his own boyhood, instead flopping his own fat little sausage of a penis into view, peeing as powerfully as Chad had just done. The gold ring glinted in the light as Chad flipped his penis up preparatory to tucking it into his pants, a habit he had developed since the ring's insertion, when he was deathly afraid of soreness and infection.

"I can't believe you keep that thing," Jimmy commented, looking over the top of Chad's urinal at him. "Doesn't it hurt?"

"Not really," Chad replied, hastily tucking his penis back into his pants. He crossed the room quickly to run his hands under the faucet. Ever since word had gotten to his school about he and Alan Delveccio being forced to suck each other's penises for punishment and he'd subsequently had to suck all of the penises of the 4th grade boys repeatedly in public, he'd been very, very conscious of any behavior that even remotely suggested interest in gay activities. Even now, a week after returning to school after his suspension, boys would pass him and say things like, "Hey, Microdick, want a lollipop?" or, "Hey, Henson, want some of my milk for your cereal today?" or even, "Hey, Chad, want to suck a big one instead of the little ones you're used to?" He assumed Alan received similar gibes, but as a result of the verbal attacks on his sexual orientation he'd been sort of avoiding being seen in Alan's presence or even standing too near Alan. It helped that Joey Turpin had spread the word among his friends to leave Chad alone, but that still left lots of other kids to harass him.

"Dang, the towel dispensers are empty again," Chad complained, wiping his hands on his pants.

"They should have one of those blowing things in here," Jimmy said, buttoning himself up. Chad froze. Was Jimmy making fun of him, too? But Jimmy had turned away and was gathering up his back pack, not at all looking for Chad's reaction like the comment about blowing had been a deliberate dig. Randy Martinez crashed through the door and into the restroom, his bulk making him waddle a bit as he entered. Randy was one of those boys incapable of moving anywhere without crashing about. Jimmy and Chad turned toward door. "Did you remember to bring your comparative essay today?" Randy asked, facing the urinal and squeezing his body tightly against it.

"Got it right here," Chad said, waving his backpack "I wasn't going to forget it when The Nose promised to physically punish any boy who forgot. I even have footnotes."

"Me, too," Jimmy said. "One ride on the horse was enough to make me swear off of the Nose's punishments." Chad and Jimmy exchanged understanding glances. Both had very recently been victims of school punishment involving severe pain and compulsory nudity, and this had only strengthened their friendship. Still, Chad was gun shy of anything that even looked like male attraction these days, so he'd been careful not to stand to close to Jimmy or appear too friendly, and Jimmy seemed to respect that need.

Randy turned from the urinal, having already shyly tucked away his own tool. He hefted a backpack, from which what might have been a blue report cover was barely visible. "I'm not letting Lamesey and Bitchy have a crack at my butt, no way! Not after seeing what happened to you guys and to Alan!" Lindsay Kirk and Emily Gitt were the designated Discipline Assistants, or DAs, for the 5 shorter boys in Chad's class, assigned to punish the boys when Mrs. Rose felt they needed it. Mrs. Rose herself was now universally known as The Nose by most of the kids in school, a name that teacher's pet Lindsay had herself coined invented. Her name had easily been perverted into Lamesey by the boys. She had also started calling Emily "Emily the Bitch," which had been quickly shortened to "Bitchy" by the boys. Unfortunately, she'd also invented "Microdick" for Chad, "Piggy" for Jimmy, and "Whizzer" for Alan, all three of which had caught on just as thoroughly.

Randy Martinez was one of those shorter boys assigned to the DAs for punishment, as were Alan, Chad and Jimmy. Both of the latter boys had felt the effects of Emily's enthusiastic work on their bare butts, and had no desire to go through it again. Alan had been thoroughly worked over by Lindsay as well. The remaining member of the quintet, Sam Farlow, like Randy had yet to personally experience the work of the two DAs, and both lived in mortal dread of the possibility.

Chad shuddered as he remembered the humiliation of having to stand naked in front of Emily and the class and be prepared for spanking, and then having to bend over Emily's lap bare bottomed as his butt was spread and his butt hole checked for cleanliness, and then the even greater humiliation of crying like a baby as Emily had gleefully spanked his butt while yanking on his penis simultaneously. It wasn't the spanking itself so much – true, it had been quite painful, and he'd cried genuinely throughout the experience and afterward. It was the idea that it was Emily, a girl his age and an old enemy to boot, who was allowed to give it to him. He still was flooded with humiliation every time he thought of it. As a result, he tried very hard not to think of it, or the possibility that he might end up over her lap again, soon, and there'd be nothing he could do about it except lie there and take it.

The three boys trouped into class together, setting packs down on their chairs and preparing for the school day. Mrs. Rose came into the classroom with Cynthia, both focused on a small video camera. "I don't get it," Cynthia was saying. "I signed this out from the office because I thought it would be great for my animal observation project. It's supposed to turn on when it picks up motion and shut off when it stops. I thought I could put it on the windowsill and record all the animals that go by in a day and then catalog them for my project. With the starting and stopping feature I could get a whole day's animals on just one charge and all on one disk. But look, I push the button, but it doesn't look like it's recording."

Mrs. Rose took it and looked through the viewfinder. "You're right," she said. "It doesn't seem to be working properly." She tried pushing several other buttons, and when nothing appeared to happen she turned and put it on the bookshelf at the side of the room. "Well, we can't deal with that now," she said, "the bell is going to ring soon and I have to collect the reports. I'll take it to the office this afternoon after school and see if they can make it work." She walked purposefully toward her desk.

Randy saw Sam Farlow across the room currently away from his desk hovering near some girls in the back. Because they had two Samuels in class, Sam Farlow was known as S. F. by most of his classmates, whereas Sam Grossman was called "Big Sam." Short but sturdy, S. F. had shockingly blond hair and skin so white that you could see the veins in it. He avoided the sun like a plague. Randy tried to slip around the edge of desk, to get to S. F., tripping and almost knocking it over but catching it before it crashed and setting it upright again. S. F. turned his direction. "Smooth move, Ex-Lax," he commented as Randy stumbled up to him and grabbed a desktop to keep from crashing into him.

"Here's the lunch money I borrowed from you yesterday," Randy said. "Thanks again – I'd have had to miss lunch if you hadn't helped me out.

S. F. looked at Randy, the obvious thought going through his mind that missing a few lunches wouldn't be a bad thing for the pudgy boy he'd known since Kindergarten. He pocketed the bills. "Thanks," he said, "but you didn't have to rush, I know you're good for it. Better turn your paper in before the bell rings," he suggested. S. F. had arrived early and turned his paper in first and had since been hanging around the edges of the group of girls talking with Sarah Hall. He did quite a lot of that, mainly because he had found in the last few months a powerful yearning to be near her, and yet suffered from an equally powerful fear of approaching any nearer than the edges of her crowd.

As Randy was passing money to S. F., Chad carefully took his report out and put it on the pile on Mrs. Rose's desk, and Jimmy placed his one top of Chad's. As they turned around, Chad passed Emily coming up the aisle, a big notebook in her hands clasped to her chest. He wondered briefly what she was doing back by the classroom door, when her seat was in the front. For that matter, hadn't he seen her clear on the other side of class, by Joey Turpin's desk just a moment ago? Why had she been all the way over there, and now she was here? What was she doing, taking a scenic tour of the room? Shrugging, he sat down. The bell rang, and children scrambled for seats, Randy racing to his backpack and reaching inside. There was a pause, then he began poking frantically about. His face became panicky, and he poured all of the contents of his pack onto the desk, searching through the pile.

Mrs. Rose, standing in front and watching papers accumulate on her desk, noticed his frantic movements. "Something the matter, Mr. Martinez?" she asked icily.

"My report!" Randy blurted. "It was right here!"

"Right where, Mr. Martinez?" Mrs. Rose replied.

"Here, in my pack!" Randy said.

"I don't see a report," Mrs. Rose said, walking down the aisle nearest the door to stand by his desk.

"But I had it!" Randy said, almost in tears.

"I see," Mrs. Rose said.

"I think I saw a blue folder in his pack in the restroom," Chad chimed in, trying to be helpful.

"Me, too," added Jimmy. "At least, I saw the edge of it."

"Well, I certainly don't see one now, boys. And if I were you two," she said, looking significantly at Chad and Jimmy, "I'd be very careful what I claimed to have seen – you know the consequences of lying in my classroom!" Gulping, Chad subsided. He wasn't that sure of what he'd seen, and he wasn't risking another spanking, not when all spankings were bare bottomed, and Emily was next up on the DA list. Jimmy appeared to have come to the same conclusion.

Randy looked stricken. "I did it, really!" he said again.

"That's enough," Mrs. Rose said. "If you did it, you apparently didn't bring it, so the end result is the same as not doing it. Now clean up that mess and go stand with your nose against the blackboard while I call roll and check it against the reports that were turned in, and we see if anyone else is going to join you in the front."

Something inside of Randy went cold. He knew, as did everyone else in class, what it meant to be told to go stand with his nose against the blackboard. It meant he was in trouble, standing in front of the class as a cautionary lesson to others as he waited his turn for discipline. "But I did it!" he protested. "I worked on it for hours! And I brought it! Who took it?"

"That's enough!" Mrs. Rose said. She took several long strides forward until she was by Randy's chair, grasped him by the arm, and pulled him to the front of the class. "If you did it, where is it? My guess would be that you didn't do your report, and that you're lying to cover it up, which makes it worse. We'll deal with your discipline in a bit. Face the board and be silent for now! And put those hands behind your head!"

Trembling and feeling sick with dread, Randy faced the wall, lacing his fingers behind his head and trying to keep from screaming in frustration. He'd done his report – he'd just had it with him! He'd been very, very careful about that, strongly motivated by Mrs. Roses' pronouncement, last week, that "…anyone failing to turn his or her report in on time would face the most severe discipline. For you girls, that means detention, and for you boys, of course, the punishment will be more physical." He had taken her warnings to heart. No way he wanted to be spanked, or maybe paddled, like so many of his fellow male classmates had been recently! He knew that being spanked meant on his bare butt! And if he was, all the girls in class were going to see his private parts, just as they had Chad's, and Joey's, and Alan's, and Jimmy's before him. He remembered, vividly, Chad standing, totally humiliated, with his small genitals on display to the class, and then crying like a baby and flailing his arms and legs as Emily beat his butt two weeks ago. That wasn't going to happen to him, was it? Was it?

Mrs. Rose began calling roll. Randy thought of Chad crying after his spanking by Emily, standing naked in front of class with his eyes puffy and his face covered with a mixture of snot and tears, and then turning around to display his bright red, blistered butt for all to see. No, that couldn't be going to happen to him. He'd done his report – it had been in his pack in the bathroom he was sure! What had happened to it?

Randy Martinez was a short, stocky, overweight Hispanic boy of 13 with a round face, light brown skin, and jet black hair. He was a perpetually worried soul, constantly thinking ahead to things that might go wrong. As a result, his shy smiles were few, and he seldom was able to really loosen up and really enjoy himself, even at recesses when they had been in grade school. His shyness extended into every aspect of his life – he was embarrassed about his chubby body – his overhanging stomach, his wide bottom, and the fat padding on his chest that made it look like he had budding breasts. He never took off his shirt in public, always wearing a t-shirt at the pool and on rare trips to the beach, along with the longest, baggiest swim trunks he could find. His parents were wealthy professionals – his father and mother were both chemical engineers who met in college and worked for the same giant corporation. They also were both big people, and didn't consider their only son's girth to be an issue.

Having no brothers or sisters to share his bathroom or bedroom, Randy was an intensely private individual – one of those kids who never stripped around others, not even just to his underwear, and who always pressed up against the urinals as closely as possible to block the view of boys standing beside him. He dreaded visits to the doctor, not, as most kids did, because of possible shots and TB tests, but because the doctor always made him strip to his boxers, and always finished the examination by pulling the front his boxers down briefly to quickly examine his genitals and press two fingers into either side of his crotch behind his almost invisible sack while telling him to turn his head and cough. On those occasions, Randy almost died of embarrassment, and found it hard to talk or even look at other people for hours afterward, even though his mother always looked discretely away when the doctor examined his privates and never mentioned it to him afterward.

And now, here he was, in the position where they put kids to be spanked! He'd never been spanked in school! When his parents had signed him up for this school years ago, they'd argued that the high academic standards would help him get into a good college like the Ivy League school they'd attended. When Randy had expressed doubts about the corporal punishment policy, his father had laughed and told him that a good spanking or two gave a boy character, and avoiding them kept him on his toes. Up to this point that had been true – like Chad Henson, Randy had managed to make it through grade school without being spanked even once, even though other kids like Jimmy Chen seemed to get spanked multiple times a year. Had his luck had run out now? If so, now, when the new DA rules were in effect, was the worst possible time.

After Chad Henson had given that 3rd grader a concussion a few weeks back, all spankings of boys were made bare-bottom spankings. That would have been bad enough, but then Lindsay and Emily had been made Discipline Assistants with the job of handling the 5 shortest boys, including Randy if necessary. And then Chad had almost knocked a tooth out of a 6th grade girl pushing her down to escape taunting by others, had run the gauntlet, and now all the boys in all the grades were walking on eggs, trying not to be the next target. And yet here he was, through not fault of his own, looking very much like the next target! He quaked with fear and frustration bordering on rage. He'd had his report just a few minutes ago! It must be in the boys' restroom – it must have fallen out of his pack! He'd ask to go get it, and then he'd show them, and it would all be over! He'd tell his mom tonight how scared he'd been, and they'd all laugh.

"Mr. Martinez," Mrs. Rose said, startling him out of his wild spiral of thoughts. "Please come stand on the tape line. Emily, would you come up here and get the discipline chair and the towel?"

Randy, startled, jumped and then walked, shaking all over, to the designated area. Emily, rising from her seat in the front, smirked at him in a superior fashion as she went to the side to retrieve the infamous sturdy wooden chair used for spankings and paddlings. Randy shuddered and stopped at the line, twisting to face Mrs. Rose. "Ummmm, Mrs. Rose," he began.

"Didn't I tell you to be silent?" Mrs. Rose said, walking over to tower over Randy's chubby frame.

"But, I, I think I know where my report went. It must have fallen out in the boys' restroom – I stopped to pe – I stopped there on my way in," Randy finished lamely, blushing.

"More lies, Mr. Martinez? Are you going to tell us next that you left it by the door at home, as the redoubtable Mr. Turpin claimed he did with his assignment two weeks ago?" Mrs. Rose said skeptically. "Or perhaps your dog ate it?"

"What?" Randy said, confused. "We don't have a dog.." He noticed, with rising alarm, that Emily had pulled the chair up beside him and was holding the towel in one hand, looking at him like a hungry lion eyes a gazelle. "Umm," he said. "My report has to be in the boys' room. It was there when I went in, and that's the only place I was before class!"

Mrs. Rose sighed. "I suppose I'm a fool for falling for this, but your past record of behavior has been good enough that I might as well check it out. Chad, you and Alan go to the boys' restroom and look for Randy's report. But if it's not there and you've been lying to me, you're going to pay a steep price." Chad winced hearing his name linked to Alan— of all the people to be sent with, unobserved, to the boys' room. Who knew what gibes this excursion would inspire. Nonetheless, they'd been named, and they'd have to go together. He and Alan stood, walking quickly to the back of the classroom.

Alan Delvecchio had been out of diapers in class only for the last couple of days after having peed himself not just once but three times while being disciplined by Lindsay. He still wasn't used to the freedom and comfort that came with being back in underpants and pants, with his long, thin penis hanging freely again after having been snuggly trapped in diaper material for days. It even felt weird not having to pee in his pants when he had to go, and then raise his hand for the humiliating diaper change in front of the class. Fortunately for him his urinary output was low and his bladder large enough he'd only needed to pee his diaper once a day, but each change for peeing was humiliating, and even if he had managed to go the entire day without wetting himself, he still would have had to undress in the morning and wait in front of the class to be diapered, and then be undiapered in the afternoon and dress himself in front of the class again. All in all, he was very glad it was over.

It's gotta be there, Randy thought to himself over and over as he watched them depart. It's gotta be there. It will be there, and then I'll get to sit down and this nightmare will be over. He rocked back and forth in anxiety, eager for the boys to return holding the familiar blue folder.

Meanwhile, Chad and Alan hurried to the boys' room, talking quietly as they walked. "He had it with him, I saw it," Chad said. "Jimmy saw it, too. But of course The Nose doesn't believe us. Maybe he dropped it after we left, and we'll find it and that will be that."

"Hope so," said Alan. "Because otherwise he'll be another notch in Bitchy's belt. Besides, I don't like seeing other boys get spanked anymore – it gives me flashbacks."

They walked along quietly for several second. Then Alan said, quietly, "How come you haven't talked to me much since you got came back to school?"

Chad looked at Alan guiltily. He was hoping Alan hadn't noticed his attempt to stay his distance and not remind people that the two of them had been punished by having to orally pleasure each other for 10 long minutes. The last thing he wanted was to be branded as Alan's boyfriend – he liked girls! He didn't like sucking boys at all! At least he didn't think he did. He cleared his throat nervously. "Really?" he said, trying to sound nonchalant. "I guess I've been kind of busy." He covered his embarrassment by turning into the boy's bathroom. "Let's get Randy's folder. It has to be in here," he said.

But it wasn't. They boys searched the whole bathroom, looking in stalls and dumping out the trash cans to search through the used towels, but no folder was found. They piled the towels back in the trash and started walking back to the classroom. Alan looked seriously at Chad. "Something's not right here," he said. "It's too much of a coincidence. Emily's bragged for days that she'll spank or paddle all 5 of us eventually, and suddenly she's got a reason to have a go at Randy's butt. Doesn't that strike you as odd? We're not talking Jimmy Chen, here – this is Randy Martinez! The compulsive! He never forgets homework, or loses it, or anything! He's never been spanked at school, has he?"

"I don't think so," Chad said. "But up to 3 weeks ago, neither had I."

"You let your temper get the better of you. But Randy has no temper. He never gets in trouble. He never forgets assignments. Not even when he was little! How does he suddenly end up at the front of the room just when it's Emily's turn?" Alan countered.

Chad's thoughts whirled. "I don't know," he finally said. "But we'd better be careful, or it could be one of us that weird stuff is happening to next."

"Most likely you," Alan said flatly. "For some reason she hates you. She hates you more that anyone I've ever seen. If I were you, I'd be really, really careful." The two boys entered the classroom. Randy looked at them hopefully, his face going white when he saw their empty hands. Mrs. Rose didn't ask them what they'd found, she just nodded them back to their seats.

"Randy Martinez," she said, each of her words cutting through Randy like a knife through butter. "You have failed to turn in a vital homework assignment despite warnings of its importance, and then tried to lie about doing it to avoid punishment. I cannot tolerate ignoring assignments or lying about it in my classroom. As a consequence, you're going to have to be punished."

"Nooooooo! Pleeeeease!" Randy begged. "I did it, honest! You can call my mom – she knows I did it!"

"Silence," Mrs. Rose thundered. "We've had enough of your lies and your evasions! I cannot interrupt the school day to bother people's parents over simple disciplinary situations. You interrupted me before I was finished. As I was saying, you'll have to be punished. And not with a just simple spanking, I'm afraid."

She turned and stalked to the front of the class, retrieving the familiar box for storage of the clothing of boys about to be punished. She sat it by Randy, as he bit his lip in anguish. That was the box for kids' clothes! Was she going to make him take his clothes off? Everyone would see his – would see everything! It wasn't fair!

Emily Git, feeling extremely satisfied with herself, stood beside the spanking chair, the protective towel in her hand. Her plan was working out exactly like she'd pictured it. She wasn't sure what Mrs. Rose had meant when she'd said that Randy wasn't getting just a simple spanking, but she just knew she was going to love it. She's show that pudgy Randy Martinez a thing or two! He thinks he's such hot stuff because his parents work in a lab or something. And he's fat! She hated chubby boys with their big butts! Randy was always tripping over things and saying he was sorry – he was gonna be good and sorry in a minute.

She let her thoughts drift ahead to the future. She'd already trapped obnoxious little tub of lard. And next it would be that smart-alecky little vampire kid's turn in front of the class for whatever Mrs. Rose had in mind. She hated the way the smirky little twerp called himself "S. F.," like he was someone important. She'd already set that one in motion as well – it should come off before the morning was out. It would be Lindsay's turn to be the DA in Farlow's case, unfortunately, so she couldn't personally smack his butt, but she could watch from her front row, center seat as he got what he had coming.

Then she'd be ready that afternoon to set up the big one -- Chad Henson's well-deserved second encounter with her. She thought back to two weeks ago, when she'd had him over her lap with his bare butt bent and spread, and made the little brat cry like the baby he was as she spanked his little boy butt until it was bright red, holding him down by his disgusting little dork. She could still feel the soft skin and the firmness of the muscles underneath that and the way that his butt would give just a bit each time her hand landed with a satisfying smack, give just a bit but then no further. She remembered the power she felt squeezing his spongy little dork in her other hand, so tiny and pathetic once it was in her grip. She'd loved pulling on it, stretching it to its length and then feeling it go taut, like a rubber band, knowing the yank was making him hurt inside. She'd especially loved the way he bucked and kicked and flailed at the air, all the while squalling like a baby under her punishing hand. She'd never felt more alive.

And she felt a tingle in her loins as she recalled the scene the following Monday, with Chad tied to the diaper cart as his disgusting little boy butt hole was violated with progressively bigger dildos, and his eyes got bigger and bigger as each one stretched his hole out! And then watching him endure being butt fucked by the little 3rd grade brat he'd given a concussion. Too bad the kid had such a tiny dork, but those were the breaks. For a moment she entertained a fantasy of paddling that little brat as well, squeezing his little boy bag with its two hard little marbles as she whacked his butt with a nice big paddle and made him kick and squeal.

Well, that wasn't going to happen, but if she pulled her plan off just right, she should end up getting to punish stupid Chad even more severely than before—maybe even give him a spanking and a paddling! Maybe she'd even get to hold him by his disgusting nuts this time instead of his stupid dork. She almost shivered with the deliciousness of it. Boys. She hated boys. She hated their smirky grins, and their cockiness, and the way they thought they owned the world. But mostly, she hated their stinky butts with their disgusting, wrinkled little butt holes, and she hated their boy stuff – the floppy little sausages like cocktail weenies and the disgusting wrinkled little bags they were so proud of! So they could pee standing up? Big deal! She hated them – always leering at girls, and dreaming about putting their disgusting stiff little things inside of them! Like any female actually wanted that! Boys should exist only so girls can have the pleasure of spanking them, and twisting their little dorks, and squeezing their little balls and listening to them beg and howl, she thought. Well, she'd make them all hate that they were boys by the time she was done with them.

As Randy Martinez, his face a mixture of anger and fear, looked up at Mrs. Rose's stern gaze. "Take off shoes and socks, Mr. Martinez," she ordered. "We need to prepare you for your punishment."

Emily looked smugly at her backpack by her desk, where Randy's blue folder now rested hidden in her own notebook. It had been a risk slipping it out and into the notebook she'd bee carrying on her earlier errand, but she'd seen her chance and she'd taken it. That was what it took to win in this world – seizing the moment and using it to your advantage. She wouldn't leave it there, of course, it was too risky. She'd move it elsewhere when she got the chance, and no one would ever know her part in this. Those stupid boys think they're so smart. Stupid boys and their stupid- looking genitals. She was smarter than all of them. She couldn't wait to watch the rest of her plans unfold.

Randy, almost trembling with emotion, slipped off his shoes and dropped them in the box, followed, one at a time, by his socks. His bare feet felt cold on the floor. He gulped and tried one last protest. "Pleeeease, Mrs. Rose! I really wrote my paper! It was good! I had it with me, I promise! I, I-."

His protests were cut short as, with a tremendous smacking sound, Mrs. Rose's man-sized right palm landed in the center of his butt, and pain exploded from it. "Owwwwwwwww!" Randy squealed. "Owwwoooooow." Even through his pants, it HURT!

"Silence, young man!" Mrs. Rose ordered. "Not another lying word from you! Now take off your pants, and prepare yourself for a well-deserved and especially appropriate punishment!"

Snuffling, tears glistening in his eyes and threatening to roll down his face, Randy stood, unable to comply with Mrs. Rose's order. He couldn't take his pants down in front of class – he just couldn't! He was finding it hard to breathe. In exasperation, Mrs. Rose reached around and expertly flipped open the button on his pants and yanked down the zipper, exposing the front of his underpants to the eager watchers. Even Chad found himself intrigued. Mindful of his reputation concerning boys, however, he leaned back in his chair and tried to act uninterested, while watching out of the corner of his eyes. "Superman undies!" a girl in the back shrieked with laughter as Randy's boxers came into view in front. Mrs. Rose had to reach behind him to peel his pants off of his projecting bottom, but once released from encasing his butt Randy's pants dropped into a puddle at his feet. "Step out, Mr. Martinez," she barked, and he reluctantly kicked them off of his ankles. The baggy boxers obscured any details of Randy's anatomy and made him look fatter than he actually was. His two brown, bare legs appeared abnormally short as the boxers hung down almost to his knees.

"He's probably got super butt powers," one of Emily's friends sneered.

"Super farts," Joey Turpin muttered, loud enough for his friends to hear. Their loud laughter drew Mrs. Rose's glare, and they subsided.

"Hurry up, young man, we haven't got all day," Mrs. Rose said. "Get those ridiculous underpants off and let's get down to business."

Randy hesitated and looked at Mrs. Rose pleadingly. She snapped her fingers and pointed at his underpants. "Come on, Mr. Martinez, we haven't got all day. You don't have anything in there that we haven't seen before on other badly behaved boys in this class!" Randy looked up at her pleadingly, but was immediately repulsed by the malevolence he saw in her gaze. He turned his gaze on the rows of children, looking for a friendly face. His eyes immediately lit upon Alan Delvecchio, who was looking at him with genuine pity, and then Chad Henson, who was studiously looking to one side of him. But most of the children were looking at his midsection, as if speculating about what was hidden in his underpants. How could he take them off? They'd see everything! He remembered laughing inwardly at Chad Henson's discomfort at repeatedly showing off his inadequate genitals. He'd watched, mesmerized, as Chad went through his many punishments. He'd stared as openly as everyone else when the boy's underpants had been removed for the first time, he's watched excitedly as Chad's little butt and been first spanked and then paddled, and he'd been intrigued when Chad had gone on the diaper table and exhibited that hidden smooth area between his legs and his tight little butt hole to everyone. He'd even gotten a bit excited when Chad had been forced to masturbate in front of the class, and even more so when Chad had been forced to take it up the butt from that little kid. He'd also been just as intrigued and felt just as superior for not being Mrs. Rose's target as the rest of the kids when Joey's big tool and hairy butt had been revealed to all, and when Alan had been forced to reveal his long, thin penis and the private places between his legs repeatedly on the diaper table. And when Jimmy Chen had gotten whipped on the horse, he had just chalked it up to one more show by the class clown, really nothing to do with him. But now he had a sense of the enormous humiliation those boys must have suffered. He was gonna be naked! That was something that happened to the bad boys, not him!

And even if he could bring himself to lower his underpants, then what punishment awaited him? More than a simply spanking, Mrs. Rose had said. A more disturbing thought lodged in the pit of his stomach – the DAs were allowed to hold boys down by their privates – he'd seen Emily about yank Chad's penis off while she spanked him several weeks ago, and, according to Jimmy, Lindsay had made him dry cum and then crushed his balls! As fear shot through him, he almost wet his underpants right then, but managed to squeeze down at the last moment and stop himself. He didn't want the diaper treatment! He tried again to will himself to take his underpants off as manfully as Jimmy Chen had two weeks ago, but he couldn't make his arms move. They were all going to see his stuff!

Tired of his hesitation, Mrs. Rose gripped both sides of his boxers and yanked them violently to his knees, where they fell to his ankles, no longer held up by his round bottom. The entire class leaned forward in anticipation as Randy's boxers suddenly cleared out of the way, and his pubic triangle became visible to all. "No hair," the girl next to Emily's seat pronounced, getting right to the point. But a glimpse was all any of them got as, after a moment of shock, Randy clapped his hands over his crotch, temporarily blocking the view of the class.

"Step out of those and place your hands behind your head, Mr. Martinez," Mrs. Rose barked, her right hand raising to land another blow on his now unprotected butt if she didn't receive instant compliance. Randy jumped and quickly clapped his hands behind his head, his body, naked from the waist down, now on display.

There was almost complete silence for a few moments as heads jockeyed for position for the best view, then more silence as the children absorbed what they were seeing. Finally, speaking for all of them, Emily's friend Celeste, from her front row seat, blurted out, "It's so little!