Tommy's Attitude Adjustment Chapter 24

Tommy's Attitude Adjustment Chapter 24
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 24: Things Can Always Get Worse

Shirley stared at her cousin Jeremy's penis, rock hard and throbbing in her hand, nudging upward with each beat of his heart, as he cousin struggled to pee with two girls his own age watching him. Francine controlled her laughing and quieted down, while Jeremy stared at the wall of the bathroom and tensed various muscles in his lower abdomen. Nothing happened. "So are you going to pee, or not?" Francine asked again, growing impatient. Jeremy tightened his butt and concentrated so hard his brow furrowed. Still, nothing happened. Suddenly, the three were startled by a voice in the doorway. "What's taking so long, girls?" Aunt Matilda asked. She took in the tableau, including the fact that Shirley was holding Jeremy's penis, and frowned. Francine quickly came to Shirley's defense.

"She has to aim him," she said to Jeremy's mother. "Or he'd pee all over everything. 'Cause he's sticking up. And he can't do it because he has to keep his hands behind his head." She looked at Jeremy's mother with her best innocent expression. "Why do they stick up like that sometimes, Mrs. Whitt? Boys' thingies, I mean. Usually they just hang down – why to they get all hard sometimes?"

Taken aback by the question, Jeremy's mother groped for an answer. She should have known, she thought. She didn't know what had led her to think anything else was involved. These were just innocent little girls, after all. They didn't look at boy's penis and think sexual thoughts – to them a penis was just a funny thing boys peed through. Of course that's all Shirley was doing – just keeping him from peeing on the floor. She realized she needed to answer, as the girls were now looking at her expectantly. "Boys and men are funny creatures," she finally said. "They're hard to understand sometimes." She felt a strong need to get away from Francine's curious eyes. "Stop dilly-dallying, Jeremy, and finish up," she finally said.

"I'm trying," Jeremy protested. "I really am. But it's hard to go when my...my...my thing is like that."

"I see," his mother said. He was right, of course, she realized. She knew perfectly well that males sometimes had trouble peeing through a hard on, even little ones. She certainly was familiar with the penis of Jeremy's father in that condition. His lovely, long, hard penis, so urgent and thrusting, filling that aching need of hers. He'd been gone too long again. Jeremy's father was currently overseas, working on some sort of business deal for his company. He'd already been gone a month, and he might be gone another before returning. The frequent absences of his father was one of the reasons she tended to indulge Jeremy. "Maybe this will help," she said, reaching over and turning on the faucet full force. Rushing water gushed into the sink, making soothing noises. Jeremy shut his eyes a minute, and did things that made little rippling motions in his groin. Shirley felt it first, a gentle vibration on the underside of the boy's penis accompanied by a sudden powerful stream emerging from the tip of his penis and splashing in the toilet. He was peeing! An actual boy with peeing in front of her, as she held his boy thing in her hand! She marveled at the power of the stream, seemingly stronger than what she could produce from her tween. The initial gush finally ended, but Jeremy immediately contracted his hips several more times, with each contraction resulting in him ejecting an additional little squirt. He finally relaxed with a sigh.

"Give him a little shake, dear," Aunt Matilda said to Shirley. "You have to get the last drops off the tip." Shirley gave the boys hard penis a tentative little shake, causing him to shivered slightly. "That's quite enough," her aunt said with a note of disapproval in her voice. There's no need to hold him any more."

Jeremy, sighed again, this time in disappointment as the girl's hand was removed from his penis. Her touch felt so good! His little penis, released, sprang up until it was pointing out slightly above horizontal again. His mother immediately took charge of him, guiding him back to the living room as the girls followed. Once there, she stood him in front of the couch and sat down, signaling the girls to sit as well. Mrs. Weiss was already sitting, having taken a chair to one side. "Well, Jeremy?" She asked, arching an eyebrow. "Are you ready to apologize to your cousin now?"

Jeremy, blushing now all the way to his neck at having to stand with his lower half naked in front of the girls and Mrs. Weiss, especially with his mickie all hard, mumbled something incomprehensible.

"I asked you a question, Jeremy," his mother said. "Are you ready to apologize, or do I take my hair brush to your little fanny?"

"No Ma!" Jeremy blurted. He took a deep breath to steady himself. He hated the way that his little penis remained hard, so that it was pointing right at the girls, with the pee slit visible and everything! He'd never be able to look Francine in the face again! She'd probably tell everybody what his mickie looked like, and his butt, and his dookie hole! Both girls were staring fixedly at his crotch, watching his little penis in fascination. He needed to get this over with. "Sorry, Shirley," he mumbled.

"That's not good enough, young man," his mother said. "Tell her exactly what you're sorry for, and say it loud enough so we all can hear you."

Jeremy, near to tears again, cleared his throat. "I'm, I'm sorry I was mean to you, Sh- Shirley. And I'm sorry I was bad in town." He looked at his mother pleadingly.

"Very good, Jeremy," he mother said. "Now apologize to me for having to spank your bottom, and to Mrs. Weiss and Francine for having to watch it."

This wasn't fair! He hadn't wanted Mrs.Weiss to watch him get spanked to start with, and he certainly hadn't wanted Francine to see it! He thought about the hair brush, however, and realized none of that mattered. "I'm sorry you had to watch me get a spankin', Mrs. Weiss, and I'm sorry you had to watch, too, Francine," He managed to say. Well, that was certainly true—he was very sorry that Francine had seen him get his spanking, and even more sorry she was smirking at him now.

"That's okay, Jeremy," Francine said, smirking. "I'm sure you learned your lesson. As long as it makes you a better boy in the future."

"Good, that's settled," his mother said. "Now I think it time for lunch. Mrs. Weiss, would you like to join us?"

"I'm afraid I'll have to be running along," Mrs. Weiss said. "It was very kind of you to offer, though." She rose and started for the kitchen door. She stopped before exiting. "Now try to be a little angel, Francine," she said, looking at her daughter, expectantly. "Or my hand will be doing a little dance on your fanny, too."

"I'll be good, mother," Francine said, doing her best to look angelic.

Mrs. Weiss exited. "You can put your hands down now, Jeremy," his mother said. A relieved Jeremy quickly let his hands fall. He spied his pants and underpants, lying on the floor. He took a couple of steps and stooped pick them up, not realizing until he heard the giggle that he was positioned such that when he bent over his cousin was looking right up spread butt. Grabbing his clothing he straightened up quickly, holding the bundle in front of his crotch. His mother got up and reached over to take clothing from him. "How thoughtful of you to pick up your mess," his mother said. "I'll just put these in your room for now," she added, starting down the hall.

Jeremy clapped his hands over his genitals to block Shirley's open gaze at them. "But I was going to put them on!" he protested.

His mother arched an eyebrow at him. "You don't need them right now," she said. "You need to let your bottom air out for a little while – you've got a few blisters and the air will help them heal."

"But I'm naked!" Jeremy protested. "You can't expect me to eat lunch naked!"

His mother gave him a withering gaze. "You can and you shall," she said. "You've gotten too big for your britches lately, Jeremy, so I think that doing without them for a bit will teach you a good lesson. Besides, you've been naked around other people before. You swim naked with the other boys at the swimming hole, don't you?" She knew from personal experience the boys all swam naked. Back when she was an early teenager, she and a girlfriend had slipped quietly up to the swimming hole during a hot summer day where they could watch from the far bank behind jumble of large rocks that lay opposite the beach-like curve of sand where the boys left their clothing while they cooled off from the heat of the day. The two girls had watched, mesmerized, for a long time as an assortment of nude boys ranging from 6-year-olds who were there with their older brothers to high school seniors cavorted in front of them, unaware that they were being watched. Like most girls their age, they'd both been drawn into infant and toddler care by their mothers already, so male anatomy wasn't a surprise to them, but the sheer range of sizes and shapes of genitalia had astonished Matilda at the time. The little boys, of course, all sported miniscule little scrotums that barely showed and didn't differ much from each other, but even their little penises displayed a wide range of shapes and sizes, from dangling little fingers long enough to flop around when they moved to barely visible, flat little buttons that pointed straight out and barely projected at all. The range of appearances among the bigger boys was even more impressive, with the big boys all sporting dangling sausages of various widths and lengths, some short and fat, some long and thin, and some coming to a rude, fleshy point made of excess skin that covered the mushroom bulge of their penis tips. Her friend Martha had whispered that those boys weren't "circumstanced," and still had their foreskins. The big boys had quite a range of sacks, too, with some hanging low and pendulous, their balls big and bulging, others pulled tightly to their bodies and their balls smaller and outlined in wrinkled skin. And all of them sported the most outrageous shock of bushy hair above their genitals, all the same color as the hair on their heads. Matilda had been especially struck by the appearance of the Dooley brothers, whose flaming bushes of red pubic hair stood out from their white midsections as if their penises were ablaze.

Most interesting to Matilda, thoush had been the boys in the ages between these extremes – the ones her age and just above and below her age. The 11 to 14-year-olds showed a most amazing range of development. Two of the boys in her own class had especially caught her eye. Stephen James, a tallish, good-looking 12-year-old blond, sported an impressive, dangling ball sack and a long, swaying penis that seemed huge on his half-grown body, along with an impressive bush of blond pubic air above his swaying equipment. On the other hand, Floyd McCallister, just as tall but much broader and heavier, had barely visible genitals that wouldn't have looked out of place on the 9- year-olds splashing around him. This, along with his total lack of hair, made him look much younger than his age without his clothes on. She'd almost burst out laughing when Stephen had shouted at Floyd, "Hey, Dinky Dick – betcha can't catch me!" For years thereafter, every time she'd see Floyd, it was all she could do to keep from bursting out laughing as she contemplated his reaction should she suddenly address him as "Dinky Dick McCallister."

Matilda and her friend had watched the boys for more than an hour, mesmerized by the panoply of muscular buttocks and dangling big and little penises. Although they had never told anyone about their adventure and had never worked up the courage to go back again, she still remembered the event fondly, as the time she truly grasped just how much variation there was in boys under their pants as well as outside of them. It was also about that time that an older girl had explained to an aghast Matilda that boys put their penises "down there," in girls, and that girls actually enjoyed the experience.

Well, she certainly had, she thought. Little Jeremy had been the unexpected by ultimately happy result of her frenzied coupling with his father in an old barn on the edge of town after a hayride in her senior year, and a hurried wedding had followed.

Remembering that happy time and suddenly missing her husband dreadfully, Jeremy's mother let her eyes travel to her son's crotch, wondering how he compared to his father and those boys of her memory. She hadn't really seen his genitals since he'd stopped bed-wetting, and even back when she had she'd always paid more attention to getting them clean than to their actual appearance. She found her view blocked, though, because he was clutching his pubic triangle with both hands, instinctively protecting his genitals from sight despite the fact that both girls had just been in the bathroom with him, watching him pee. It was funny how modest these little boys were when their equipment was small and harmless, and how boisterous they got in later adolescence and adulthood, when they felt big and powerful. It wouldn't do to let him get too comfortable with exhibiting himself to girls too soon. She decided a little humiliation was in order. "Don't touch yourself there, Jeremy!" she said. "Especially not in front of the girls. That sort of crude male behavior is not the sort of a thing a well-brought-up young lady wants to see." Flushing even more deeply, Jeremy let his hands fall to his sides, his little, still hard penis snapping to attention as he moved his hands. She let her gaze flow over it a moment, following the straight shaft with her eyes from where it mushroomed into a perfect little helmet back to where it emerged like a little post from his body, his perfect little miniature scrotum underneath. It was actually quite an attractive little package as boy genitals went, with no visible veins to mar the surface, no odd twists or asymmetries, or excessive curvature. The pee slit didn't gape at the tip, and the head was perfectly proportioned. The whole package was a perfect miniature of his father's, she realized, and looking at it made her long for his return.

"We'd best have lunch," she said, tearing her eyes away. It wouldn't do to dwell on her absent husband too much – he wouldn't be back for some time, and she'd just have to cope.

Jeremy ate lunch standing by the table, keeping his belly pressed against the side to at maintain at least some covering for his genitals. He'd been naked from the waist down for more than an hour, now, yet he still couldn't get used to it. Sure, he swam at the swimming hole naked, but only other boys were there, and everyone was naked. Besides, the trees hung over the water and made it like a dark little room in there, so it was no more open feeling than being naked in the bathroom or one's bedroom. It was different being naked in the kitchen, with sun streaming in the open windows and the sounds of children playing drifting by, and with everyone else in the room fully clothed. Not to mention the fact that all the other people in the room were girls, with their mysteriously different in intriguing bodies.

His mother, sensing his discomfiture, made a point of sending him from the table repeatedly on various errands – to get the mustard from the refrigerator for their sandwiches, then back again to get the mayonnaise, then to get more juice from the refrigerator, and so on. Each time, both girls turned to watch him as he left the shelter of the table, his spanked butt on display first, then his now dangling little penis. His mother found herself enjoying his discomfort. Little boys were too modest when she was young, and they're still too modest, she thought to herself. Everyone sees their little packages over and over again when they're babies and toddlers, then suddenly they got all ashamed and went around hiding themselves like they looked any different than they did when they were toddlers standing proudly at the toilet showing their mothers and sisters how they could make pee-pee like big boys. Her naked son was actually quite pleasant to look at. She'd already noticed that his little penis, a perfect miniature of his father's, swayed so nicely in rhythm with his movements as he walked, and his small sack was so hairless and innocuous seeming. She hadn't liked his genitals so well when he'd been hard earlier – it made him look too much like a man. She now decided he had a cute little butt, too – not the baby-fat, little boy butt he'd had as a toddler, but a narrow, muscular butt with a deep butt cleft that looked very boyish. She wondered if he masturbated when he was alone in his bedroom or in the bathroom, and if he had ever had an orgasm.

Jeremy (who in fact did idly touch his penis now and then in bed but never for long enough to orgarm because he always stopped when the feelings started getting overwhelmingly intense) was, meanwhile, methodically eating his lunch and wishing his butt didn't still sting so much. He didn't like bare bottomed spankin's at all, that was certain, whether they were administered in front of some stupid old girls or not. It had hurt a lot, and the pain had just keep getting worse and worse as the interminable smacking of his bare butt had gone on. But having been spanked in front of two girls his age had added deep humiliation to his pain. They'd looked at him naked, all over! And listened to him beg and cry as he got spanked! They'd seen all his private places – all of them! Francine would probably tell the story all over town, and probably describe his privates to everyone! He found he couldn't even meet their eyes at the dinner table, forcing him to concentrate on his plate. Every time he had to leave the table to fetch this or that thing at his mother's bidding, he could feel 3 pairs of eyes on him, first on his tight little butt, still blushing pink and sporting a few scattered blisters, and then on his dangling genitals, feeling so vulnerable hanging unprotected and uncovered in front of him.

It wasn't just that they'd looked at him and seen him get spanked, either – no, it wasn't just that. Both girls had handled him. They'd felt his butt with their hands, spread it to look in his crack, and then run their fingers over his mickie – stroking it and rubbing it until it had gotten hard, then continued stroking it until he'd gotten that overwhelming shivery feeling he got sometimes when he handled it himself. Only this had been different – the feeling of someone else's hand, not knowing where the fingers were going to be next, somehow that made it more shivery, more unbearable, and more – more – more what? More good, Jeremy realized suddenly. Handling his own mickie was soothing – the kind of thing that felt good when you couldn't go to sleep. But he always stopped when his feelings started getting too intense. This Shirley girl, though, hadn't stopped then – she'd continued touching along the ridge of the tip of his mickie, wringing the most pleasant, shivery feelings out of it – feelings that somehow traveled up the shaft and inside of him, making him want to squeeze his butt and the muscles inside him like he did when trying to force out the last squirts of pee. Only better than that. Lots better.

The sudden coldness as the tip of his mickie rose high enough to brush the underside of the metal table made Jeremy realize that thinking about the girl's hand stroking him had made him all stiff again, and awakened yearning feelings inside of him. He was thankful his crotch was lower than table height, so that his erection was out of view. Now as long as they didn't send him for anything for a few minutes...

"I believe we need that other bottle of milk from the icebox," his mother said just then. "Would you get it, Jeremy, dear?"

"But Ma," Jeremy said in protest. "I've gotten everything else. Can't one of them get it?"

"Jeremy Whitt!" his mother exclaimed. "These girls are your guests. We don't expect our guests to serve us in our own house! Now you get your little spanked fanny over to the icebox and get the milk this instant!"

Jeremy looked at each of the girls, hoping they were looking some other direction, but both had turned their attention to his midsection, waiting to glimpse his privates again as he left the table. Jeremy pivoted as quickly as possible while still standing next to the table, then walked away so that the girls could really only view his butt, his mickie being short enough that they couldn't see it, even erect, from the other side of the table where they were sitting side by side. He opened the icebox and got the milk, trying to think of how to hide his erection on the return trip. He finally lowered the bottle so that it blocked his crotch, shutting the icebox door and gripping the bottle with both hands as he walked back, holding it against his front so his genitals were hidden behind it, his penis pressed upward against his belly by the cold bottle. Maybe the cold would make it go down.

As he neared the table, his mother looked up. "Oh, Jeremy, don't hold it against yourself there," she chided. "You know what that part of you does!"

Looking guilty, Jeremy moved the bottle a bit away from his body, resulting only in his mickie sliding down the outside so that it pointed outward, with the tip still touching the bottle. His mother noted the contact as he neared and slipped the bottle up onto the table as he tried to hide his privates underneath again. His penis, pointing slightly upward, eluded his movement, so that as he tried to trap it under the table it caught on the front and his movement made the tip stick up next to his plate instead briefly, before he was able to swipe it with his hand and shove it down and force it under the table. Francine burst out laughing at his antics, and Shirley grinned as well.

"I don't recall inviting that to the table," his mother said archly. "And I don't appreciate you rubbing it all over the milk bottle, young man. Perhaps you'd best go to the corner for the rest of the meal."

"But I was just – I didn't want the girls to see my – I didn't mean to," Jeremy sputtered.

"Did I ask for backtalk?" his mother said. "I said, get into the corner! And don't forget where your hands belong!"

Sagging, Jeremy walked on leaden legs to the corner of the kitchen, his little penis wagging in front of him like the stubby appendage of a tail-cropped dog. He stared at the flowers on the wallpaper, wondering if he was in for more trouble. His ma wouldn't paddle him would she? Not for something like this? His little mickie began deflating immediately as the memory of the searing sting of his earlier spanking flooded back.

"Time for pie, I think," Aunt Matilda said, addressing the two girls.

"What about Jeremy?" Francine said immediately.

"I don't believe Jeremy wants any pie," his mother said. "Or he'd have treated the milk with less disregard for our feelings."

"Boys can be so careless," Francine piped up. "My brother's always coming home smelling like fish or manure or something yucky like that. He doesn't even seem to care!"

"Jeremy won't even take a bath on his own," his mother noted. "I have to threaten him to get him to go in and get in the tub, and even then I'm not sure he washes thoroughly. I suppose I should still supervise him, but you know how modest these little boys get. Besides, I suppose just sitting in the soapy water for half an hour or so playing probably gets his parts clean enough."

"I bet it doesn't," Francine said, a glimmer of mischief in her eye. "I bet he doesn't wash his private parts at all, and I bet they don't get clean." She glanced at Shirley meaningfully, then turned her big eyes on Mrs. Whitt. "Especially his bottom, where the you-know-what comes out! Why, I'll bet you that if we looked at him close right now, Jeremy would have you know what on his bottom. I'll bet you anything he does!"

"Oh, surely not," his mother said indulgently. "No one wants to be dirty, not even little boys. He does know how to use toilet paper, Francine."

"I'll bet you 5 dollars he's down dirty there," Francine said.

"Let's not be ridiculous," Mrs. Whitt said. "You don't have 5 dollars, anyway. That's practically a whole week's wages! But it might be fun to bet. How about if I win, you girls do the dishes, and if you win, I do the dishes and then we all go to the park."

Francine stuck out a hand. "Let's shake on it," she said. The two solemnly shook hands. Jeremy, who'd been listening with burning ears to this conversation, suspected he knew what was coming next. He also knew that Francine, with her prior knowledge, had just scammed his mother, but he didn't dare say anything.

"Oh Jeremy," his mother said. "Could you come here and bend over my lap, please. Francine and I have a friendly bet."

Slowly, little penis drooping, Jeremy walked from the corner with his hands still obediently behind his head, circling around Francine and approaching his mother, who'd pushed her chair out from the table. Awkwardly, because it was tough to bend over with his hands behind his head, Jeremy got into the humiliating butt up position over his mother's lap, knowing in advance that he was going to flunk this test.

The two girls rose and stood on either side of his mother, watching avidly as she carefully gripped his still sore butt cheeks and spread them widely apart. All three females locked their eyes on his anal orifice and the surrounding area.

There was something utterly humiliating and horribly disconcerting about the feel of lying across someone's lap and having your buns pulled apart and your butt crack spread open until your butt hole was in plain view. Jeremy felt like he was being violated, like something that should be his secret was being trotted out for all to view. It was worse than having people see your mickie. After all, other boys saw your mickie all the time – at the long trough that served as a urinal in the boys' bathroom at school, for example, where several boys would stand side by side peeing and stealing surreptitious glances at the mickies of the boys next to them, and at the swimming hole, where everyone saw your stuff when you went into and out of the water or when you swung out on the rope into the deep spot. But no one ever saw your butt hole, not really. Oh, you got a glimpse of other boys' holes now and then, when they'd bend over to pull on their underwear, or when they bent over briefly when clowning around. It was likely that other boys had glimpsed his in just that way, too. And his mother must have looked at it over and over when he was a baby and a toddler and needed cleaning up. But he didn't remember those times. In fact, no one in his memory had ever looked at his body like this, prying his butt apart and sticking their faces just inches from his most private place!

"My goodness," Jeremy's mother exclaimed after a moment's study. "I guess you know boys better than me, Francine. He is a dirty little boy, isn't he?" She reflected a minute. "It's a good thing we checked him girls! Otherwise he might have sat on our furniture in this state!" She spread his butt wider, studying his anus more closely. Jeremy's butt crack protested where he joined together in the middle of his buns. Jeremy stared resolutely at the floor, wondering if it was possible to die of embarrassment. "So why is your bottom dirty like this?" his mother finally said. "Didn't I send you to take a bath last night? You did take a bath, didn't you?"

Jeremy nodded his head, still looking at the floor. "Yeah," he said in a quiet voice. "But I had to go number 2 this morning."

Shirley looked puzzled. "But you used toilet paper to wipe yourself afterward, didn't you? Boys go number 2 just like girls do, don't they? Don't boys use toilet paper?"

"They're supposed to," Francine piped up, sounding like the voice of authority. "But my brother says a lot of them don't – they don't like taking the time, and they don't mind being a little dirty."

"But don't they get their panties dirty then?" Shirley asked.

"They don't care if they're dirty," Francine answered. "My ma says it's because they don't have to wash them. But my brother says that's women's work."

"I'd hate to think Jeremy is as dirty and inconsiderate as that," his mother said. "I'd like to think that he at least has the decency to wipe himself! I don't know what I'd do if I found out he was too lazy to extend to me at least the courtesy of trying to keep his underpants clean."

Under her hands, Jeremy stiffened, and color drained from his face at her not so veiled threat. All three females in the room saw his reaction. His mother's face colored with anger, and Francine pounced. "Look how guilty he looks! That's why his bottom is dirty. He didn't wipe himself at all this morning, I bet! He probably didn't want to take the time, or didn't care if it makes work for you. Boys are pigs."

Jeremy's heart began racing. His mother knew! They all knew! Without warning he was yanked roughly to his feet and forced to stand between his mother's spread legs with her face inches from hers. His laced her fingers into his hair and tilted his face up to hers. Jeremy winced as the roots of his heart protested.

Jeremy's mother's face blazed at him, her eyes unblinking. "You'd better not lie to me, young man, or the spanking I gave you this morning is going to seem like a walk in the park. Did you go number 2 and not wipe yourself today? Do you not even care for how much work you make for me?"

"No..." Jeremy said hesitantly, not meeting her eyes.

"Don't you dare lie to me, young man!" his mother said, examining his face closely. Jeremy's little penis tried to crawl into his body, and his flushed all the way down to his chest. "You think I can't tell when you're lying?"

"I wiped, really I did!" Jeremy said, still not looking at her.

His mother gave his hair a yank, forcing his gaze up. "Look at me!" she commanded. Jeremy reluctantly met her gaze, but immediately shifted his eyes away again. It was like she was looking into his soul and could see everything, especially the fact that he was lying now. He rarely wiped himself – doing it only when a dookie felt particularly messy and he could feel stuff on him. This morning he's just gotten up and pulled his pants up, sure his dump had left no traces on him. Now he deeply regretted not taking the time to clean up. Somehow she could tell – how could she tell? He tried to persuade her more fervently.

"Really, I wiped! I did! I did it three times! And I looked at the paper to make sure there was nothing on it!" He tried to sound convincing, but it was like she saw right through him.

"No you didn't," his mother said, still holding him by the hair. "You're going to have to be punished for lying. But I'll give you one more chance admit your lies and tell the truth, or it will go much worse on you. Now answer me – did you go number two this morning and not wipe yourself?"

Fear shot through Jeremy like electricity – numbing, paralyzing fear. His voice rose an octave. "No, ma! Really! I really wiped my bu—myself! I did!"

His mother looked searchingly at him. "I'm so disappointed in you, young man," she said, shaking her head. Not wiping is bad enough – it's irresponsible and uncivilized and it shows you don't care about how dirty you make your underpants and how much work that makes for me, scrubbing your dirt out of them on a washboard. I'd have given you another spanking like the one you got this morning for that alone. But lying to me about it – for that your punishment has to be bigger and more humiliating, I'm afraid."

"No, Ma!" Jeremy begged. "Please! Okay, I did a dookie this morning and didn't wipe! I'm sorry! I won't do it again!" The two girls, watching from beside Jeremy's mother, both noted at the same time that his little penis had shrunk in fear until it was just a little circle centered on his groin, pointed straight out now and barely projecting a quarter of an inch from his body. His little sack was pulled up against his body as well, an irregular corrugated patch of browner skin, now clearly visible without his dangling little finger to hide it.

His mother drilled into him with her eyes. "Well, I'm glad you admitted it," she said. "But your punishment stands." She released his hair and seized him by both arms. "For failing to wipe yourself, Jeremy, I was going to give a simple spanking like you got this morning, maybe 15 good whacks on your bare fanny. But because you lied, I'm going to make it a paddling instead. On the bare. You're going to end up blistered, I'm afraid."

Panic suffused Jeremy's face. Paddle him? Blister his butt? "Noooooooo!" he squealed, trying to twist away from her grip. Without warning, his bladder contracted violently, forcing open his sphincter. A jet of liquid shot straight out his little circle of a penis, spattering all over his mother's apron. Fortunately his bladder was almost empty, so the total amount of his involuntary wetting was small, but the suddenness of the action shocked the two girls as well as his mother. His mother jumped backward, rising as she did, still holding him but knocking over the chair. The two girls scattered to either side, as if he'd been squirting liquid poison instead of just pee. And Jeremy's mother's face became beet red, redder, even, than Jeremy's butt had been just after his earlier spanking.

"How dare you!" his mother roared, shaking his with each word. "How dare you pee on me, you disgusting, dirty, uncivilized little brat?" Releasing one arm, she reached down and pinched the tip of his penis between thumb and forefinger, giving the barely projecting damp little organ a vicious yank that burned all the way into Jeremy's insides.

"Owwwwwww!" Jeremy wailed, dissolving into incoherent tears. "I, I, I didn't mean toooooooo!" he wailed. "It just came out! I'm sorrrrrrry!"

"Sorry don't feed the bulldog, mister," his mother snapped. "I will not have you embarrassing me in front of company! You want to humiliate me, I'll humiliate you right back. You're going to get paddled, all right, but I'm doubling your paddling to 30 hard ones! She gave Jeremy's penis a second vicious yank and let go of it, looping a hand around his middle and lifting him off the ground. "And to make sure you're humiliated as much as you've humiliated me, I'm doing it on the front porch!"

"Noooooooo!" Jeremy wailed, kicking and flailing to no avail. "Not outside! Don't paddle me outside, Maaaaaa! Pleeeeease!"

Jeremy's mother turned toward the door, easily lugging her struggling, wailing son. Come on, girls," she said, heading out the kitchen door to the porch. "Shirley, run get the paddle for your cousin's naughty behind."

Shirley raced into the living room and snatched up the wooden hairbrush, racing out through the kitchen and almost tripping over the overturned chair on her way. Her aunt was sitting on the front step when she got outside, calmly arranging a struggling Jeremy across her lap. She'd easily pinned his hands behind his back, and Francine was standing between his out-stretched legs fighting to hold them still as Jeremy tried to escape. Three girls and a boy who'd been playing on the lawn diagonally across the street were staring at the commotion with undisguised glee.

"Hey, Jeremy's got no pants on! Or underpants, neither! one girl was shouting at the others as Shirley emerged. "Look like his ma's gonna whop him!"

"Hand me that, dear," Shirley's aunt said over the commotion Jeremy was making, reaching for the hair brush. She took it and waved toward Jeremy's legs. "Help Francine out, dear," she said loudly. "Each of you take a leg."

Shirley managed to take Jeremy's right leg from Francine and, with difficulty, curtail his kicking to some degree. She and Francine stood side by side, Jeremy's legs separated between them so his sack and his hole were clearly visible to both of them. His mother raised the paddle over Jeremy's wildly contorting bottom. "This is going to hurt a lot, I'm afraid, Jeremy," she said grimly. "Remember, you're getting thirty hard ones!"

As Jeremy shrieked "NOOOOOOOOOO!" his mother brought the paddle down on her son's wildly wiggling but unprotected little butt.

From Jeremy's squalling the moment the brush struck his butt for the first time with a loud crack, Shirley was quite certain his mother hadn't exaggerated when she said she was giving him hard ones. It was all the two of them could do to hold on to his legs as Jeremy kicked, squealed, and fought following the first spank. Each succeeding spank made his squeals grow in volume and added another dark splotch of red to his bottom. His mother took her time, waiting a good 5 seconds between each spank, so it took her more than two minutes to administer the 30 solid whacks she'd promised him for his lack of respect for her. By then, the flailing, thrashing Jeremy had screamed himself hoarse, and his bottom was breaking out into little red blisters centered on both buns and completely lining his butt crack. His face was throwing off little globs of snot and saliva as he twisted his head this way and that, trying to escape the searing pain the paddle had raised on his butt.

The kids from across the street had grown braver during Jeremy's punishment, and were now standing only about 6 feet away, watching Jeremy receive his paddling with undisguised amusement and interest. "I'm done, you can let go of him now," Jeremy's mother said to the girls, loudly enough to be heard over Jeremy's wailing. The released his legs and stepped back, and his mother released his arms at the same time. Jeremy settled on wobbly legs and immediately began dancing, while the kids from across the street stared in bug-eyed amazement at the sight of Jeremy Whitt standing 4 feet from them with his genitals on display. Jeremy immediately reached behind him to cup his butt with both hands, and began leaping and hopping about the lawn, dancing from one foot to the other and bawling like a 2-year-old, his dangling, completely flaccid little penis flopping wildly as he cavorted around. Snot bubbles bloomed from his nose as he danced and squealed, oblivious to the watching audience of kids, the spectacle he was making of himself, his total nudity from the waist down, or anything except the incredible burning, searing pain of his bottom. How could his butt hurt this much! The spanking had been bad, but this was about 100 years of pure torture.

Jeremy's dancing and oblivion continued for several minutes, while the girls and the one boy from across the street giggled at his antics. Meanwhile, his mother got up and went back into the house.

Gradually Jeremy's senses returned to him and his vision cleared. When he finally was aware of something beside his burning butt, he realized he was on the front lawn, facing the porch. He'd just been paddled. Bare butt! And outside, where anyone could see! He hoped no one had seen. His bleary eyes immediately fell on his cousin Shirley, looking at him with something like pity on her face. And then Francine, from school, standing next to her, smirking and looking at his midsection. He looked down. His mickie! She was staring at it. He quickly let go of his throbbing, burning bottom and clapped both hands over his genitals. He had to get inside before anyone else saw him. A voice behind him made his blood run cold.

"Nice butt, Whitt!" one of the girls from across the street said from very close by. Horrified, Jeremy looked over his shoulder. There were 3 girls watching him – apparently had been watching him throughout his whole performance. And Jason was standing there watching, too – Jason, who made fun of him enough already! They'd seen his bare butt! And his mickie! Worse, yet, they'd seen him get paddled by his ma, and watched him dance around like a little boy afterward! They were looking at him now! Sobbing, Jeremy fled into the house, clutching his genitals awkwardly until his little blistered butt disappeared through the door.

The three girls and the boy on the sidewalk walked over to Shirley and Francine. "Wow, that was some show!" one of the girls said. "You could see everything!"

"Every little thing," the girl next to her corrected. "What'd he do, anyway?"

"Lots of stuff," Francine said. "He was rude to Shirley, and he didn't wipe his butt, and he peed on his mom. Stuff like that."

"He didn't wipe his butt?" the third girl said. "Gross! But how did she know?"

"His mom checked it. It was hilarious," Francine said, keeping her voice low enough so it couldn't be heard inside. "She spread his cheeks apart right in front of us so his hole showed and everything. And it had poop on it. The she yelled at him for it, and it scared him so much he peed on her!"

"I can't believe it," the boy said, grinning. "Whitt getting his butt beat right on his front porch! And that dance he did afterward, with his mickie bouncing all over the place right in front of everyone!"

"It wasn't any big deal," one of the girls said in a superior tone. "It barely stuck out. It was so short it couldn't even bounce much. I've seen bigger boy stuff on babies."

"Yeah, I know," the boy said. "Isn't it great!"

Shirley wasn't sure it was great at all. She was starting to feel sorry for her cousin. It was one thing to get to see his parts and watch him get a spanking in private, but it was another for the whole world to see him. And the blistering his bottom had just received must have hurt something awful, and probably would continue to hurt for days. He might be a little bit rude, but she didn't think he deserved to suffer like that. She left Francine chattering excitedly with the other children about Jeremy's body and his ordeal and went in the house looking for him.

She found him standing, still crying, in the corner once again, his blotchy, blistered butt on display and his hands behind his head. Her aunt was talking on the phone, ignoring Jeremy. She edged up behind him and put a consoling hand on his back, making him jump in surprise. "Leave me alone," he sobbed.

Shirley patted his back awkwardly. "I'm sorry you got paddled," she said.

"No you're not," Jeremy said, still half-blubbering. He sniffled. "You liked watching it – you all did. You like seeing me naked and watching me get a whoppin'."

"No I don't," Shirley said, trying to impress him with her sincerity. "I mean, I don't like seeing you get a whoppin'." The naked part, on the other hand, she'd enjoyed immensely and was still enjoying standing there. Jeremy did have quite a cute little bottom she realized, even with blisters all over it. She just wanted to reach over and run her fingers over it, but of course she didn't because she knew what his reaction would be. After all, the boy had just gotten paddled on it – it looked like it was hot enough to roast wienies on! with it as sore as it looked. And the way his little pee-pee had gotten all hard and jumpy in her hand was something she yearned to feel again. But she wisely didn't mention either of these two things.

"I can't believe I got paddled on the front porch," Jeremy said after a minute or so of silence. His crying had almost stopped now. "Did Jason and his sisters see the whole thing?" he asked, distress in his voice. "Or did they just come at the end?"

"They saw the whole thing," Shirley said. "There were there even before Aunt Matilda started paddling you, and they came over to watch."

"Great," Jeremy said. "Just peachy-keen! I might as well run around naked from now on – everyone's seen everything."

"I don't think they saw your doo-doo place, though," Shirley said. "That's something."

Shirley's aunt finished her phone conversation at that point and hung up the phone. Spying Shirley talking to Jeremy, she spoke up. "I hope you learned your lesson this time, young man! I will not tolerate your complete disregard for common decency! Dirtying your pants and wetting on people! I thought you were finally over that back when I took you out of diapers."

"Maybe he needs to go back into them," Francine said, coming into the living room from outside. "I mean, if he's not trained, maybe he needs a reminder."

"That's not a bad idea," said Jeremy's mother, looking thoughtful. "No, not a bad idea at all. She strode to the hall linen closet, poking around briefly inside. "Aha," she said in triumph. It's a good thing I kept these around, just in case!" She turned, holding up a stack of neatly folded white cloth.

"You, young man, are going back in diapers!"