Tommy's Attitude Adjustment Chapter 26

Tommy's Attitude Adjustment Chapter 26
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 26: The Innocent Voices of Children

And everything was exactly what Francine told them. "Anyway, as I was saying, Jeremy had just gotten spanked this morning, so he was bare…"

"He was bare?" Bobby interrupted. "You saw him get spanked bare?" His position over Jeremy jumped suddenly about 3 notches. "I mean, bare, bare? You saw his butt and everything?"

"Never mind his butt," Maxine said. "It's his everything I want to hear about. Did you see it?" Jeremy flushed, hating that there were talking about his genitals, and hating that they were talking about them like he wasn't even there, like he didn't matter. He studied his feet, wondering if you could die of humiliation. This couldn't get any worse!

But then it did, of course, because Francine, not to be interrupted for long when she had a good story, went on. "Of course we saw everything," she said. "Right up his crack when he was getting spanked, and all the rest of it afterward, when he danced around rubbing his bottom and howling."

"Wow!" Ruth said. "You mean you got to see his…"

"We saw his tallywhacker and his bag and everything," Francine said. Jeremy could feel his greasy penis shrinking in his pants. This was so humiliating! "But it was no big deal," she added dismissively. "It didn't look any different than the tallywhackers on baby boys. It was only about this long," she said, holding her fingers about an inch apart. Of course, it got bigger when it got all hard, later."

":He got a woody in front of you?" Ruth said, almost panting with excitement. "It got hard and stuck up?"

"Well, as up as it could," Francine said. "I told you it wasn't very big." Jeremy tried to melt into the ground again. It didn't work. But all this talk of his tallywhacker made him aware of a growing internal sensation, one that raised all sorts of unpleasant possibilities.

"Wait, it gets better," Francine said. "So he's standing around with his tallywhacker sticking out, and his mother starts talking about how he doesn't keep his underwear clean, so I bet her that his bottom was dirty right then. So she checked him!"

"No!" Maxine and Ruth said together.

"Yeah, really!" Francine said. Shirley nodded her head seriously. "She spread his butt apart right there and checked him!"

"No!" Ruth said. Maxine's eyes glittered. "You mean, she spread it clear apart? And you were watching? You saw his hole?"

"Everything!" an enthusiastic Shirley burst out. "We saw everything! Even his doo-doo place!"

"No kidding," Maxine said, looking at Jeremy for a reaction. Jeremy's face was glowing red. "So was he dirty?"

"Yeah!" Shirley said. "Not real dirty, but dirty."

"Yeah, and then his ma said he shouldn't be dirty like that because it made his underwear dirty and she had to clean it, and I said he probably didn't even bother wiping himself, and she asked him and he tried to lie, but she saw he was lying and got mad because she has to clean his undies and he doesn't even wipe!" Francine said.

"So she got so mad she said she was going to paddle him," Shirley chimed in. And he was standing up by then, and he got scared, and I guess he had to go, so he—he--"

"He pisddled all over her, that's what he did," Francine finished, keeping her voice low enough Mrs. Whitt wouldn't hear her. "And then she was so mad she decided he needed a paddling, and that she was going to do it in front of everyone, so she carried him out to the porch step and really blistered his bottom with the paddle! And the kids across the street watched!"

"There were two girls and a boy," Shirley said.

"He got paddled naked in front of the neighbors?" Ruth said. "Gosh, Maxine, why aren't we ever where the good stuff is happening? It's like when Freddy Sorenson got pantsed in front of school, and we were already on our way home and missed it! And everyone says his peter was sticking out and everything!"

"Jeremy's was, too," Francine said, rubbing it in. "Especially when he danced around naked afterward. His little tallywhacker was bouncing everywhere, and he didn't even notice the other kids watching until he stopped crying so much."

"You cried, Jeremy?" Bobby Raphael said with interest. "Really? You cried? In front of everyone? You mean like a big baby?'

"It hurt!" Jeremy protested, his manliness stung to the core. "You cried when you got paddled in school, remember?"

"Shut up, you two," Maxine ordered. "All boys are big babies, anyway." She turned back to Francine. "So his ma put him in a diaper because he pissed on her?"

"Actually, Francine and I did it," Shirley said. "She put the Vaseline on his bottom, and I put it on his—his—" she stopped again, unable to say the words.

"His tallywhacker," Francine put in. "So he wouldn't get diaper rash. And I pinned him up, and here we are."

Jeremy's face burned from shame. He needed to get away, but where would he go? Straight down wasn't an option. Maxine and Ruth were smirking at him, while Bobby continued to look at him with those expressionless eyes.

"So, what? How long does he have to wear them?" Ruth asked.

"Until tomorrow morning," Shirley volunteered from the swing next Francine.

"You mean he has to piss and shit in a diaper until then? Maxine said, grinning more broadly. Now isn't that just the bee's knees! And he gets changed if he does?" She edged around Jeremy eyeing him from the backside. "Actually, they look kinda cute on you!" She said. "Makes you look more like a baby."

"I'm not a baby," Jeremy snapped.

"Let's see, you pissed on your mother, got spanked naked in front of the neighbors, and now you're wearing a diaper. Sounds like a baby to me!" Ruth said.

"I bet he's wet himself already," Bobby said. "Or maybe even shit himself. I think I can smell it from here," he added. "What about it, baby Jeremy? Did you wet your diaper? Did you make a big doo-doo? Does the little baby need a change?" his eyes glimmered with malice.

"Maybe we better check him to be sure," Maxine said. "Hold still, Jeremy, and let me check your diaper." She sidled up to him, reaching towards the top of his diaper." Jeremy backed away, but immediately bumped into Ruth, who'd shifted around behind him. Maxine tried to worm her hand into the top of his diaper.

Jeremy tried to shove her away. "Leave me alone!" he hollered. "Get your stupid hand out of there!"

Meanwhile, Ruth was poking his diaper from behind, pushing the cloth into his crack and trying to feel around his anal area for anything that wasn't boy or diaper. Jeremy tried to bat her hand away, too. "Come on, cut it out!" he complained, more loudly. Maxine used his distraction to start her hand back into the top of the front of his diaper. The noise of the struggle caught his mother's attention. She sat her knitting down and walked over to the swin gset.

"What's going on here?" she asked sweetly.

Maxine stopped struggling with Jeremy and looked at his mother. Ruth let go of his buttocks guiltily. Maxine decided to take the offensive. "Ruth and I was just trying to help Jeremy out by checking his diaper to see if he needed a change," she said. "But he won't let us. You know how lax these little boys are about being dirty. "

"Indeed I do," Jeremy's mother said, nodding. "When he was a little boy, I swear Jeremy liked being dirty. He'd go around the house with a load in his diaper like it didn't bother him at all – he'd even sit on it! And you know what a mess that makes when they do!" She turned to Jeremy, who was still trying to push Maxine's hand away from his diaper top. "Jeremy Whitt, stop pushing that girl! She's just trying to help you stay clean!"

"But Ma," Jeremy whined. "She's tryin' to stick her hands in my pants!" He lowered his voice to a hoarse whisper. "Around my boy stuff," he added, looking embarrassed.

"I'm sure she was just trying to feel where the wetness would be if you had an accident," his mother said pleasantly. "Now hold still and let her check you."

"Maaaaa!" Jeremy wailed, shocked at her response.

"Not another word, Jeremy Whitt!" his mother said. "I'm going back to my knitting, and I don't want to be disturbed all the time by your little problems. These girls are helping me by monitoring you and making sure you stay dry and clean. So when one of them wants to check you, you let them check you! No arguments! If I have to come back, I'm bringing the paddle." She turned and stalked back to her bench, picking up her knitting and clicking them rapidly.

Maxine turned back to Jeremy, looking at him with cold, calculating appraisal. Jeremy felt like a mouse who has just discovered that four cats suddenly have him trapped in a corner. Four female cats. Four female cats with sharp claws and a desire to play with their food. Maxine reached for his diaper again. "Hold still this time," she said. "Or I'll make it worse for you."

Given where she was going, Jeremy could think of all sorts of ways she could make it worse for him, things involving pulling, tugging, scratching, pinching, and hard squeezing. Trembling, he held still. Maxine, grinning in his face at his helplessness, slid her hand slowly into the top of the tight diaper, her fingers working down his lower belly, feeling the smooth, Vaseline-oiled skin, then sliding into his pubic triangle and the padded skin there. He held his breath as the side of her index finger finally contacted his mickie, now mostly hard and trapped pointing uncomfortably downward in the warm, sweaty confines of his diaper. She wormed her hand sideways, slipping two fingers across his mickie, and then sliding her thumb under it and giving it a gentle squeeze.

"His peter's hard," she announced. "I think he's in love with me. You were right, Francine. It's pretty tiny."

Jeremy blushed redder, still tense and holding his breath. Francine shoved her hand in deeper, running her fingertips around the ridge of the head. "Yep," she continued. "It's a little one, all right. I'm going to see if I can feel his balls."

"Nooooo!" Jeremy moaned. "You'll hurt me!"

"Don't be silly," Maxine said. "I just want to feel them." She forced hand in farther, probing around under Jeremy's penis, trying to detect the hard lumps she'd seen in the sacks of all the little boys she'd babysat, and the others she'd persuaded to play "show me yours and I'll show you mine," a game she had pursued avidly for a period of months back when she was 8 or nine. She poked around for several moments that were quite uncomfortable for Jeremy, then withdrew her hand. "Couldn't find them," she said. "He probably doesn't have any. Some boys don't, you know."

"I do so!" Jeremy insisted hotly.

"He does," Francine admitted. "They're not big, but they're there. I saw them."

"I felt them, too," Shirley said, feeling the need to defend her cousin. Maxine shifted to the back of Jeremy's diaper and wormed her hand in there.

Jeremy winced as she roughly probed his still sore butt, running her hand over the surface of each of his buns, then following the crack downward. "Man is he bumpy and hot," Maxine reported. "He must have gotten blistered good!"

"All over his bottom," Francine said. "I told you he cried."

"I got blistered worse by the principal, I bet," Bobby chimed in.

"Did he?" Francine asked.

"Heck, I don't know," Maxine said. "He's all modest and wouldn't show me. He just went around wincing when he sat down and moaning that his butt hurt. I think it was the only time he's ever been spanked."

"He wouldn't show you? Not even his butt? Ruth said, interested. "I thought sisters always see their little brothers naked."

"She's not my sister," Bobby said. He didn't like the way this conversation was turning, especially the talk about Maxine seeing him naked. There was no way he was letting that little bitch see him naked. That was how he thought of his stepsister when he thought of her, as "The Little Bitch." His grandmother was "The Old Bitch," of course. And he had no intention of letting either one see him naked. He hadn't even let his mother see him naked when he'd lived with her, not, at least after the age of 5 or 6.

In fact, the paddling he'd gotten at school had been more traumatic for that reason – it wasn't just that it had hurt his butt something terrible, although it had. It was the fact that Mrs. Hempstead had stood there, glaring at him and holding his hands in the air, as the principal, old Fossil Face himself, had stripped his pants and then underpants all the way down to his ankles, baring everything in front of himself and Mrs. Hempstead. She'd seen his peter, his balls, everything!. She'd gotten a good long look at them, because old Fossil Face took his sweet time tucking Bobby's pants and then his underpants down at his ankles to ready him for paddling.

Worse, his peter had been hard – hard and sticking up like a plant growing out of a rock, while his ball bag had gathered itself tightly so that it bulged out neatly underneath, completing the image. The head had even emerged from the normally drooping, concealing foreskin, so that the entire head was exposed, pee slit visible and everything! Although the whole thing was less than 2 inches long and fairly narrow as well, it stuck up so prominently that Mrs. Hempstead had stared at it the whole time his pants were being prepared. She had then twirled him around 180 degrees and examined his now bared butt, easily holding him up on his tip toes as she had run her other palm over each of his cheeks several times, then pronounced to old Fossil Face that "This young man has nice, sturdy, prominent buttocks that will be able to take quite a lot of good, firm paddling," and suggesting he use the 6th grade paddle. Old Fossil Face had almost been grinning as he'd plucked the heavy sixth grade paddle from his display on the wall. Bobby's eyes had bulged at the sight of it at the time. Each paddle was labeled. The first grade paddle, for example, looked like a paint stirring stick, small and narrow and light. The paddles got bigger and bigger was one went up through the grades, with the fourth-grade paddle resembling strongly the paddle from the little paddle-ball games with a ball on a rubber band that kids played with, except it was thicker and heavier. But the 6th grade paddle had a longer handle for more leverage, and was a long, thick board, completely smooth and well varnished along its length. Upon seeing it, for the first time Bobby had stopped worrying about being seen naked by these two, and began to worry about the serious butt pain he was about to experience.

Bobby shuddered and pushed the thoughts out of his mind. That had been his first and only bare-butt paddling. His mother had spanked him now and then, but only through his pants and it never hurt much, although he'd make himself cry to satisfy her that he was sorry. His two minutes over Fossil Face's lap, on the other hand, while Mrs. Hempstead tightly held his hands and he kicked and screamed despite his determination to be tough, had been the most horrible of his life – worse than when he fell on his bicycle bar and practically squashed his balls, even. At the time, all he'd been aware of was the burning, stinging pain that kept exploding to new heights with each blow, each endless, painful blow. He hadn't even been clearly aware when it was over to start with, because his butt had burned so much. And then he'd danced, to his shame – danced the spanked little boy dance around the principal's office with his pants around his ankles hindering his movements and his hands cupping his throbbing butt and his little peter wagging in the air, flopping now that he'd lost his hard on.

But he wasn't going to think about that now. After all, school didn't start again until fall, and his grandmother didn't spank kids—he'd asked Maxine when he'd moved in and she'd said she'd never been spanked. His own experiments had confirmed this – he'd pushed his grandmother pretty hard, so far, and she'd tolerated all of his misbehavior..

"I'm not her brother," he repeated.

"You are too," Maxine said. ""You're my step-brother – we have the same father."

"I know he just moved in with you a few months ago," Ruth said. "But surely you've seen him changing clothes or taking a bath or something."

"Nope. He hides all the time. He's really modest. He thinks he's special or something," Maxine said. "Like all boys don't have peters just like his."

"Mine is special," Bobby said. "And you're never going to see it. So there."

"Maybe it's so little he's ashamed of it," Ruth suggested.

"Is not," Bobby said. "It's big – bigger than anyone's."

"Prove it," Ruth said.

"No way," Bobby said. "You two will never see it. Never, ever, ever!"

"Maybe, maybe not," Maxine said, a glimmer growing in her eyes. The outline of the most marvelous plan had just occurred to her – a plan with tremendous possibilities. "We'll see, won't we?" she added cryptically.
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Jeremy thought a moment. He'd seen Bobby's mickie, he was sure of it. Standing at the long trough urinal in the boy's room at school he'd seen the mickies of all the boys his age. He didn't remember Bobby's as anything special, although it seemed now like Bobby was one of the two or three boys who had the sagging hood of skin hanging off the tip so that you couldn't see the head. But it was nothing special. Actually, none of the mickies of the boys his age were particularly special. Except for Tommy Nostrum, that is, who was chubby and had a mickie that looked like the nipple on a baby bottle, and that he didn't even have to aim when he peed, and that sometimes disappeared entirely.

Jeremy realized that all of this thinking about peeing wasn't doing him any good at all. He had to pee, no question about it, and it would have to be soon. But he couldn't do it while Maxine and Ruth and Bobby were here! His mother would change him right there, with all of them watching! She'd brought all the changing stuff in a shopping bag! It was bad enough that Francine and Shirley had seen him, he didn't want to add Maxine and Ruth to that list. Not to mention the little boy and girl who were running around shrieking by the monkey bars. And he'd have no status with Bobby at all if the other boy got to watch while he was diapered like a baby, got to stare at his butt and his mickie and everything while he lay there helplessly.

He'd just have to hold it until the left, that's all.

He'd have to!

But 20 minutes later with his mother showing no signs of wanting to go home, Jeremy's determination to hold it came to an abrupt end. As he might have anticipated, Maxine was the instigator. He had been put to work pushing various girls on the swings, while they took turns mocking his diapered condition and discussing what had been like to watch him get his paddling on the front porch. Maxine had gotten off the swing to give Francine a turn, and was standing beside Jeremy, when she began teasing him again about being in diapers. "You're going to have to pee yourself soon, Diaper-Baby," she said, grinning at him evilly. "And then they're going to change you," she said. "And Ruth and I aren't going anywhere until they do."

She placed a hand on his belly, where it was bare below his shirt, and began worming her hand down into his diaper again. "Time for another wetness check," she said. Jeremy endured her exploration stoically, not even flinching when she gave his mickie a familiar pair of squeezes and then spent some time probing for his still shy balls. As before, his little mickie was rock hard in his diaper, and her squeezing it made it harder. It felt good, kind of, like when Shirley had been rubbing it, but he liked Shirley rubbing it a lot better. Then Maxine had withdrawn her hand and reinserted it on the butt side of his diaper, meanwhile commenting, "I bet you'd like to take a nice pee right now, wouldn't you Jeremy? Think how good it would feel! Just letting yourself go, letting the pee come out, letting it flow right out your little peter! Think how warm and wet it would feel as it soaked into your diaper! Think how good it would feel to go, let the pee come out and make you feel all warm and squishy! Think about pee soaking up your whole diaper, how warm it would feel against your peter! Just think, hot pee flowing around your balls and down between your legs, soaking up the backside of your diaper, making your butt feel all warm and cozy, too! I bet you gotta pee real bad! Just let it go, Jeremy. Let it all come out! You'll feel lots better! Feel the pee inside of you, trying to get out! Think of it coming out, how good you're going to feel! Warm pee flowing through your peter, coming out the tip, nice and warm on you soaking your crotch!" She continued to caress his butt, and began to make a little noise that was her imitation of the noise of a boy peeing, a kind of hissing sound. It was really the sound that did it, but all the talk of peeing had set it up. Suddenly, Jeremy couldn't hold it any more, and pee surged out of him, a surprisingly large amount of it. As Maxine had said, it flooded his crotch with warmth and surged around the back to the diaper wetting the bottom half as well, taking Maxine by surprise and causing her to suddenly jerk her hand out of the back of his diaper. It soaked through both diapers in front, appearing as a visible wet spot right in the strategic point where the diaper dived thickly between his legs. It was immediately obvious to everybody at the swing said that Jeremy had wet his pants.

"Mrs. Whitt! Jeremy wet himself," Francine called across the playground, attracting not just his mother's attention, but the little boy and girl who were still playing. They came racing over, excitedly staring at Jeremy's crotch, pointing and laughing at the big boy who'd wet himself. Bobby was looking at him with contempt, the girls, all with happy excitement.

"Bring him over here to the picnic area," his mother called. "We'll change him on one of the picnic tables." She picked up the shopping bag that she had brought the diaper equipment in.

"Come on, Diaper-Baby," Maxine said cheerfully. "Time to change you little bottom!"

"Time for all of us to see him bare naked, you mean," Ruth added. "Your Ma will have to wash your diaper area all over," she said. "So we'll see everything, all your boy stuff!" Crowded by the girls, and hemmed in so he couldn't escape, and with the smaller children dancing around him, Jeremy trudged to the picnic table, like a boy trudging to his execution. Once there, his mother urged him to climb up and then made him lie on his back on the top, telling him to cradle his hands behind his head, than spreading his heels apart so his legs were separated.

"Could you get the pins on each side, please, girls?" his mother said sweetly. Francine snapped the diaper pins loose on his left side and Maxine snapped the diaper pins loose on his right. Jeremy lay there trembling, hating the fact he was about to be exposed to all these people, especially the girls. But there was no escaping it. As the diaper pins were removed, the side flaps of his diaper fell down, and without waiting even a moment, his mother grabbed the top flap and pulled it down and let it settle between his spread legs.

"Lift your little bottom, dear," his mother said sweetly,. Jeremy shut his eyes and tried to pretend that there weren't four girls near his own age, a boy about his own age, and a younger girl and boy all avidly looking at his now completely bare genitals. He lifted his groin. He realizded to his chagrin, that his mickie was still rock hard, arcing straight up like a little pole out of his groin.

The little girl began chanting, "I see your pee pee, I see you your pee pee!" over and over again, making a little song out of it. The little boy climbed on the picnic table benches, and frowned down at Jeremy. "How come his wee-wee isn't any bigger than mine?" He asked, puzzlement in his voice. "Shouldn't it be bigger?"

The rest of the group around the picnic table ignored him. Jeremy's mother poked around in the bag, coming up with a dry washcloth. "Will someone run over to the water spigot and wet this down for me?" she said. Shirley jumped to comly. Just great, thought Jeremy. So I get to lie here the whole time with my mikie sticking out while my cousing goes to get water. How can this get any worse?

Jeremy quickly discovered this was just not a good question to keep asking himself—fate seemed determined to keep topping itself. Because the next thing that Ruth said was "Can I touch him, Mrs. Witt? I have never really touched a real boy before, not there."

Mrs. Witt looked thoughtful. "I suppose it would be okay," she said. "Since you're both still so young, there really isn't any harm in it. It's not like he can have those kinds of feelings yet. And girls should know about little boys. So they can be good mommies some day. Jeremy's eyes snapped open just in time to see her take Ruth's hand and place it in a fist around his erect penis, gently squeezing her hand to encourage her to squeeze him.

"It's hard!" Ruth said, giving Jeremy a couple of more squeezes. "Aren't they usually all soft and droopy, you know, like little saggy things?"

"Usually," Jeremy's mother said. "But a lot of times when you go to change little boys, they'll get hard like this," she said. "I think it's being out in the open-air that does it." Jeremy shifted uncomfortably. He had enjoyed Shirley's touch, but he did not like this girl touching his penis, not at all! She was currently looking at the tip, where the foreskin was partially covering the ridge of the head.

Just then, the little girl chimed in. "I want to squeeze it too, I want to squeeze it too!" she begged. "Please, please can I!"

"All right, but just for a minute," Jeremy's mother said. Ruth reluctantly removed her grip from Jeremy's penis, and the little girl's hand replaced hers. She immediately began milking his penis like it was the teat of a cow and she was determined to fill the morning milk bucket.

"It feels like a rubber," the little girl said. The tickly, shivery feelings in his mickie began building in Jeremy. But the little girl had a short attention span, quickly dropping his tool and clambering down.

"Bet it bounces like rubber too," Maxine said. She reached over with her hand and began batting Jeremy's hard penis, watching it wave in the air and rebound after each time she hit it.

"Hey, you're hurting me!" Jeremy protested.

"Shush," his mother said. "She's not hurting you—she's not hitting it hard enough. She's just playing." Maxine continued to bat his mickie, to his increasing distress, until Shirley came running back with a dripping wet washcloth. Jeremy's mother took it and squeezed it out, asking, gaily "who wants to wash his front?" The girls looked at each other.

"I will!" Ruth said. She snatched up the washcloth and began rubbing it vigorously around Jeremy's groin, scrubbing especially roughly over his wrinkled scrotal sack.

"Ow! Ow ow ow!" Jeremy complained. "Don't be so rough!"

"Don't be quite so rough, dear," Jeremy mother chided Ruth. "Boys are quite delicate in that area." Ruth transferred her attention to roughly scrubbing his hard penis, instead. The shivery feelings returned. Jeremy's mother frowned as she saw the tip swell, making the foreskin retreat. She reached out a hand. "I believe that's quite enough on that part of him,dear, "she said mildly. Ruth looked disappointed. Jeremy sighed in frustration. He'd been getting that internal feeling again, the tickly one that him want her to stop and want her to continue with the same time. If she just gone on a few moments more...

"Now we've got to clean your bottom, Jeremy, dear," his mother said. "Who wants to handle that part?"

"Not me," Maxine said firmly. "I know what comes out of there."

"I'll do it," Bobby said suddenly. He took the cloth.

"Get up and turn over, Jeremy," his mother ordered. Glad to be able to hide his mickie for awhile, Jeremy sat up and turned over. The picnic table felt cold on his stomach and his hard mickie. The assembled kids examined Jeremy's now exposed butt.

"Gee willikers," Ruth said. "He's really blistered."

Jeremy's butt was still a combination of pink and red blotches, with little blisters centered on each bun and scattered down the crack.

"I'm afraid I had to give him a good paddling," his mother said. "He's been getting too big for his britches."

"Someone hold his butt apart for me," Bobby said. "I've got to get the whole thing."

Jeremy buried his face his crossed arms, overwhelmed with shame, as the girls seized his butt on either side and spread it widely, exposing his dookie hole to everyone. He could almost feel Bobby leaning in, and then the cold wet washcloth descended on his crack, scrubbing up and down his crack and over his hole, roughly and painfully. Jeremy shivered, but did not cry it out, not wanting to give this boy the satisfaction of hurting him. Tired of scrubbing Jeremy's hole, Bobby switched his attention to Jeremy's painfully sore bottom, scrubbing the whole surface roughly, but focusing especially on the thickest collections of blisters. This time Jeremy couldn't help himself, he was forced to voice his protests.

"Ow! Ow, ow, ow!" he protested again. "That hurts!"

"Too bad," Bobby commented. "But I have to scrub hardest where you're dirtiest." He finally stopped scrubbing Jeremy sore butt and set the washcloth down. "He's as clean as I can make him," he said. "You can only do so much with just water."

"Get up, Jeremy," his mother commanded. "Go play with the girls for awhile."

"But I'm naked!" Jeremy protested.

"You need to air out your diaper area before we diaper you again," his mother said. "So you don't get diaper rash. A little sun will be good for you. Now run along and play with the other children!"

"Yes, come along, Jeremy," Maxine said, grinning. "I've got a terrific idea for a little show we can put on!"

"What do you mean, a little show?" Jeremy said suspiciously. He gotten down from the picnic table and was now torn between the urge to cover his genitals and the fear that touching them would lead to more ridicule from the surrounding children. He finally opted for avoiding ridicule.

"Just a little song I want to teach you," she said, smiling. "And then you can perform it for your mother and the rest of them."

"Oh, that sounds fun!" Jeremy's mother said. "I've always loved Jeremy's performances. He sings so sweetly! I really love it when there are little hand motions that go with the song!"

"This song will have hand motions, too," Maxine promised. "It'll be cute!"

"Excellent!" Jeremy's mother said. "Now you run along with Maxine, Jeremy, and learn her song, then you can come back and show us all."

"Ma, do I have to?" Jeremy said plaintively. "Can't I at least have a new diaper first?"

"I already explained to you, Jeremy, that your little bottom and boy parts need to get some sun and air if you're not going to get diaper rash on your little doo-hickey! Now I don't want to hear any more nonsense about this! Go with Maxine this instant, and learn her song!"

"But Ma, what if she wants me to do something embarrassing?"

"Jeremy Whitt, stop all this whining!" his mother snapped. "I'm sure whatever song Maxine wants you to learn will be perfectly charming. Now stop being difficult and go do what she says to do."

"But Ma,…" Jeremy began again.

"EVERYTHING she says to do," his mother said again. "Or do I have to send the paddle with her?" She pointed to Jeremy's exposed bottom. "You're in a bad position to argue, buddy-boy."

Grumbling, Jeremy went with Maxine to an area out of sight behind some trees. They were gone for some time. At one point, Jeremy's voice could be heard complaining, "No way, I'm not doing it!" followed by Maxine suggesting she could go get the paddle and change his mind. There were several more isolated protests of this nature from Jeremy, more threats of the paddle from Maxine, and the passage of somewhat more time. Finally, a red-faced Jeremy came back out of the bushes being prodded by Maxine, who was looking triumphant. She marched him to the picnic table where his mother was sitting and gathered all the other children. Jeremy tried one last protest. "Ma, do I have to do this? Please?"

"It's really funny, Mrs. Whitt," Maxine promised. "I think everyone will enjoy it! But it will only work if he does it right, and really tries hard."

"I can't wait to see it," Mrs. Whitt said. "Don't spoil everyone's fun, Jeremy!"

"But I don't wanna do it," Jeremy wailed. "It's – it's embarrassing! Especially the stuff I have to do when I sing it!"

"See, Mrs. Whitt," Maxine said sadly. "He's going to spoil it."

"No he won't," Jeremy's mother said. She looked at Jeremy sternly. "Young man, you will sing your song this instant, and you will do the motions that Maxine taught you, too! And if you don't do them enthusiastically enough, I'm going to let Maxine paddle your little butt and then make you do it again!"

Jeremy gave a start at this threat. Let Maxine paddle him? He'd die – He'd just die! Not to mention how much it would hurt on his already damaged bottom! He cleared his through and began singing softly to the tune of "I'm a Little Teapot."

"I'm a little pee-pot, short and stout,
Here is my bottom, here is my spout."

Jeremy pointed toward himself during the first line, turned his bare bottom slightly toward the crowd at the beginning of this second line, then turned back to face them and pointed vaguely in the direction of his penis for the end of the line. His face was beet red with embarrassment. .He stopped. "Ma, do I have to do the rest?" he whined. "The next part is worse!"

"Of course you do," his mother said. "Your song is adorable. I can't wait to hear the rest of it. But start from the beginning again, and sing louder, so we all can hear you! And make bigger gestures – they make the song cuter."

Jeremy started again, singing slightly louder. His face was so red now it looked like he might explode.

"I'm a little pee-pot, short and stout,
Here is my bottom, here is my spout.
Here's the little hole where the pee comes out.
Then, "Change my diaper, Ma," I shout."

Jeremy made the same motions he'd made previously for the first two lines, turning his bottom fully toward the crowd for the first line, then moving his hands down to point to his penis on the second. This time, as he went on to the third line, he took his penis in both hands like Maxine had ordered him, and pointed the tip toward the crowd, then dropped it for the fourth line. He stopped and looked at his mother pleadingly. "Do I have to do the second verse?" he said. "Please? It's nasty! She makes be spread my bottom!"

"Your bottom was spread on the table in front of everyone just a minute ago," His mother said. "You should be used to it. Besides, you don't have anything there different from what everyone else has."

"'Cept his is dirtier," Ruth quipped.

Jeremy blushed, gulped, looked at the paddle sitting next to his Ma on the bench, and began again, this time by turning his back on them, bending over, spreading his bottom with his hands, and singing through his legs. His tight little butt hole winked at the watching crowd.

"Poo comes out my bottom, fills my pants,
I have to do my diaper dance."

Jeremy straightened again and did a squatting walk, like a boy with an uncomfortably full diaper, continuing singing.

"I'm still a little baby, you can see,
I ain't got no hairs on me!"

During this last section, Jeremy waved his hands over his naked pubic area, which was, indeed, completely hairless and smooth.

The watching audience of kids burst into applause as Jeremy finished, his mother joining in while laughing hysterically. "That was terrific, Jeremy," she said. "I loved it! Good job, Maxine!" Jeremy looked at the ground, still concentrating on sinking into it. His mother looked at him brightly. "Don't be so sulky, son," she said. "It's just a silly song! In fact, why don't you sing it again, and make your motions more enthusiastic this time!"

"Maaaaaaa!" Jeremy complained.

"NOW, Jeremy," his mother ordered. She lifted the paddle and waved it toward his butt. Jeremy began singing loudly, exaggerating all his motions so much that he waggled his butt wildly when saying "here is my bottom,"yanked his penis out to full length when saying "here is my spout," and almost split himself in half displaying his butt crack.. He finished to wild applause, while looking at the ground, blushing.

The little boy, who'd been watching this older child's embarrassing performance, suddenly pulled the front of his own pants down. "Here's my spout," he said, pushing the front low enough that his entire groin was bare and his little finger of a penis hung down over an almost hidden sack. "Look, it's as big as his!" He edged up by Jeremy so they could compare his equipment to the older boy's. Maxine spoke first.

"By golly, he's right," she said. "His is as big as yours," she said, pointing.

"That's enough, now," Jeremy's mother said. "Put that thing away, young man," she added to the little boy. "Jeremy, I think you're aired out enough and it's time to put your diaper back on. And then we need to go home."

Of course, the entire crowd of kids gathered around the picnic table again to watch Jeremy be thoroughly covered with Vaseline by Shirley and then be pinned back in diapers by Francine with Maxine's help. With everyone watching, Shirley couldn't linger on the boy's fascinating little pole this time and it barely started to stiffen before she was done as a result, but it was still gratifying to be able to touch him all over. Afterward, the four of them walked home in silence.

Jeremy spent the rest of the day confined to his room except for supper time, where he stood at the side of the table while he ate, still not wishing to sit on his sore diaper area. Shortly thereafter he wet himself again and was changed by the girls. This time he was diapered in three diapers instead of two, and his mother wrapped the flap of the top diaper around and pinned it behind Jeremy, above the curve of his jutting buttocks, so that he couldn't remove the diaper himself during the night.

"Now you'll stay in these until morning, Jeremy," his mother said. "Don't even think about trying to take them off. In the morning we'll clean you up, then I think I'll give you a little britches dusting to teach you some self-control and remind you to behave yourself, and after you're done crying from that you can go back into your regular clothes again."

Britches dusting? Britches dusting! She was going to spank him in the morning, on his bare bottom again! "I don't need another spanking, Ma!" Jeremy wailed. "I already learned to control myself today, really!" He looked at her pleadingly. "Please don't spank me in the morning, Ma! My bottom's too sore already! It'll hurt!"

Jeremy's mother looked thoughtful. "Maybe he has learned self-control," she finally said, looking at Shirley and Francine. "After all, he got up on the picnic table to be diapered without fighting us, and he put on his little show without too much complaint." Jeremy looked at her hopefully, his triple diaper bulging his middle, making his bottom look huge and his crotch bulge gigantic. He was standing slightly bow-legged from all the cloth tucked between them.

"I'll tell you what," she said. "I'll give you a chance to show your self-control to us. If you're dry and clean in the morning, when we unpin your diaper, I'll forgo your morning spanking. If you can hold it until morning, then you'll have shown you really can control yourself. And I mean hold it both ways – number one and number two."

"But I can't do that!" Jeremy wailed. He was accustomed to getting up and peeing in the middle of the night almost every night – holding it all night wasn't something he did easily.

"Then you can look forward to a spanking in the morning," his mother said. She gave him a quick hug. "Just a little one, to remind you to be good – only 15 smacks if you go over my lap and hold still. Unless you do a number two in your diaper, and then I'll raise it to 25. It'll hurt, of course, but it'll be quick, and after you finish your corner time it'll be over."

Jeremy had trooped off disconsolately to bed. Shortly thereafter, Francine left to walk home, and Shirley and her aunt popped popcorn and then listened to her favorite radio shows until she couldn't keep her eyes open any more.

Meanwhile, Jeremy was lying face up on his bed with his legs spread because of the thick layers of cloth between them, wide awake, his mouth watering for the popcorn he could smell in the air. He was almost petrified with fear of the spanking he was sure to get tomorrow when he was discovered to be wet by his mother. He couldn't possibly go all night without peeing – he never did! For that matter, his bowel was already feeling full – would he greet them in the morning only to face the humiliation of pants full of poop and the extra 10 smacks that would trigger. What was he going to do? He tried to think of a plan to extricate himself from this one. His butt was still so sore!

Shirley's aunt made up a bed for her on the floor in a corner of the living room, and Shirley changed into her short summer nightie, keeping her panties on because she as in a strange house rather than letting her tween "air out" as her mother liked to say. Her aunt retired into her own bedroom, and Shirley lay there for awhile, visions of a naked Jeremy dominating her thoughts. Jeremy from the back, his little bare bottom with its deep cleft looking so smooth and inviting. Jeremy bent over, looking back between his legs at her, his bottom spread so his doo-doo place showed and his little bag clung between his legs. She liked his little bag. She even liked his doo-doo place when it wasn't dirty – there was something naughty and secret about looking where a boy's doo-doo came out. She moved on to picturing Jeremy from the front, his odd and fascinating appendage drooping in front of the shriveled little bag under it with its two prominent little marbles. Jeremy from the front, his appendage standing up rigid and hard, pulsing in her hand like a live thing. Such a fascinating thing boys had. They must all have them, she thought, every one of them! All of them, walking around, and all the time those things were in their pants, right there, where, if she had the nerve, she could reach over and brush her hand over them, feel them through the cloth. She felt a powerful longing such as she'd never felt. A longing to see them, all of them. To touch them, make them all stiff and hard, feel them pulsing in her hand like Jeremy's. They were so foreign, so unlike her own tween, and yet so inviting