Tommy's Attitude Adjustment Chapter 29

Tommy's Attitude Adjustment Chapter 29
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 29: When Shirley Met Bobby

"Don't you think Tommy makes a good dog, Mrs. Raphael?" a voice was saying. Shirley's mind snapped out of its reverie. What had she been talking with this girl about? Oh, yes, her errant little brother, at the moment leashed to her and being forced to act like a dog, padding butt naked around the neighborhood with his minuscule boy parts hanging out in the cold. She gave one last, longing look between the boy's legs from behind, noting the tightly pursed scrotum and nub of a penis trying to escape the cold. These little boys were so cute naked and on all fours like that!

"Yes, he's quite adorable," she said. "Now I really must be going off to church." She started primly down the walk, leaving the two Henson children behind without a backward glance. Oh, Jeremy, she thought to herself. Sweet, cute Jeremy, who had been her first love even though he was her cousin. In years after the mickie incident, Shirley had often wondered whether her cousin Jeremy was, in actuality, the boy who had taken her virginity. Technically, he was the first boy to stick his penis inside her, yet it had only slipped in an inch or maybe even less – just far enough to get the head in. And she'd thrown him off just as quickly. Did that count? It wasn't like he'd gotten all the way inside her, or that he'd been there longer than 1 or 2 seconds. And his little tool had been so small and thin that it hadn't really altered her physiology – that hadn't happened until she and Bobby had done it for the first time, years later. And although she masturbated him to many orgasms in the future, and they played what the two of them came to call the "hug and rock" game for several more years whenever they were together and could get away from adult supervision and have privacy for a time, she'd never let him do more than nestle his little mickie in her furrow, and indeed she'd given him a stern warning each time that she'd never play again, ever, if he even once slipped it into her tunnel or even got close to doing so. Jeremy had in those later times eventually been able to orgasm while rocking against her moist softness, and he'd come to enjoy watching her finger herself afterward until she'd reached her own heel pounding climax, but she never let him slip himself inside her again. They'd continued their games until she was 12, and Tommy had surprised her twice in the same day. First, he'd taken her by surprise by pulling down his pants and underwear and revealing that he, too, now had a scattering of downy pubic hairs to match those she'd grown a year earlier. Then he'd surprised her in a more disturbing fashion, by squirting clear fluid onto her hard, projecting clitoris and the upper lips of her vulva as he'd groaned and grunted through his orgasm. That was the day she'd insisted they stop the hug and rock game, because by then she'd learned more about boys and fucking from various girls, and the fear of possible impregnation by her cousin rightfully petrified her.

After that, despite sometimes desperate pleading from her now gangly, pimply-faced cousin, and despite the fact that his mickie became much more interesting by virtue of becoming bigger, Shirley had confined her favors for him to the occasional hand job until finally, in his late teens, he acquired a girlfriend to provide those services for him and stopped asking her for her services.

Besides, by then, Shirley was a popular girl, a star player on the boys' baseball team, and she'd had the chance to find out that Jeremy's attributes, although intriguing, were meager compared to some other boys. (In fact, when she'd first joined the team, right after the coach's discovery of the fact that she had a surprising pitching arm, the boys had harassed her for weeks by, from time to time, flipping the front of their baseball pants down and flashing her an erect penis at various times when no adult was watching. Those experiences had certainly broadened her knowledge of the wide range of male physiology even in prepubertal boys. But by then, Shirley already knew that penises varied tremendously because of a single incident that was to change her life -- her second encounter, the following summer, with Bobby Raphael and his family.

Shirley hadn't really paid any attention to Bobby Raphael the first time they'd met, when Jeremy was at the park with her and Francine wearing diapers as punishment for wetting on his mother and failing to wipe his butt. At that time Bobby had been just a boy on the periphery of things, watching from the side as Jeremy was humiliated in front of all of them by being changed on the picnic table and being forced to stand, naked, and sing a silly rhyme that Maxine had made up for him about being a little pee pot. But their second meeting was something else again. It happened the following summer, a summer where Shirley stayed at her aunt's for days at a time, partially because she and Jeremy had become fast friends and play companions (as well as sometime masturbation partners), partially because she'd taken an interest in softball and was playing with the local girls' team. (She'd be discovered by the boys' coach later that summer.) There were two reasons this second encounter with Bobby Raphael was memorable. First, his genitals were only the second set of boy genitals she'd ever seen in her life at that point (Though she'd see many more penises her first month on the boys' team). Second, Bobby, though the same age, put poor little Cousin Jeremy to shame.

Poor Jeremy. Always sweet to her after their first meeting, still her favorite relative even as a sometimes forgetful old man. As a boy, her cousin Jeremy Whitt had been the first boy she'd seen naked, when she'd been shocked to realize just how different little boys looked inside their pants than little girls. In the year that followed, his perfectly-formed little mickie and slightly bulging, neat little sack had been what she'd pictured when she looked at the crotch bulges of boys and imagined what was in their pants. Jeremy's equipment had been fascinating in the way it changed sizes from tiny and dangling to rock hard and pointing straight out (though to be truthful, it didn't get much longer when it did that, mainly only stiffer and slightly wider). She'd liked picturing it a lot, and handling it when they could sneak into a shed together or out into a secluded place in the woods. It was – it was cute, that's what it was, and she loved cute things. But then she'd seen Bobby Raphael, first over his grandmother's knees with his genitals hanging down between his kicking legs, and then full on, facing her, as he'd rubbed his butt afterwards and, oooh, la la!

Oh, Bobby, Mrs. Raphael thought, a wave of wistfulness coming over her as she walked at a fast pace toward the neighborhood church. Bobby Raphael -- sweet, caring, and, when they'd gotten closer, surprisingly sensitive Bobby Raphael, who covered his sensitivity with a hard façade, and whose monster hog of a penis as an adolescent, an adult, and her husband of almost 40 years made it easy for her to put her cousin Jeremy aside without regret as she got older. Bobby, who she thought was splitting her in half the first time they made love, on the sandy beach by the swimming hole after prom night, despite her coating his upward curving, pulsing beast with k-y so liberally it almost dripped off of him, and despite the fact she'd tried to stretch herself by slipping three of her fingers into her vagina while masturbating for several weeks before then. She shivered again, remembering the later years, when she'd felt so fulfilled, so stimulated. God, she missed him and his big cock!

Poor Jeremy -- even as an 16-year-old, the last time she'd had his horny little boyhood in her hands, he hadn't been impressive, topping out at a stubby 5 inches erect. (Though it had been a cute and perfectly shaped 5 inches – it was the kind of penis women don't hesitate to suck on, a fact she knew from word of mouth he'd taken full advantage up in college.) She couldn't marry Jeremy, anyway – he was her cousin, after all, and he appeared never to lack for willing female companionship afterward and was still married to quite a charming lady 10 years younger than either of them. But compared to dear, sweet Bobby, Jeremy had the equipment of a two-year-old. Her late husband's manliness had been legendary in his high school years, back in a time when showers after physical education were mandatory and every boy saw every other boy in all his meagerness or glory. All the girls had heard talk of Raphael's hog, a monster that, during high school, and hung down a good six inches flaccid, and extended out to 8 ½ erect (Shirley had measured it in both states). It had been such a loss almost 5 years ago, when, just as he was burying himself into her with wild abandon one Saturday night after a banquet of too-rich food at the club, Bobby Raphael had groaned loudly and then collapsed on top of her, dying before she could even get out from under him. She'd dressed quickly after calling emergency services, but she could see the paramedics sniggering as they tried to revive him, has last activities obvious. Poor, dear Bobby. She'd always felt it was unfair he hadn't gotten to cum that one last time. He should have had that one last pleasure, after giving her so much pleasure over the years.

The whole thing that led to her seeing Bobby naked for the first time had started that previous summer, at the park with Jeremy. Bobby had just moved in with his stepsister and grandmother. The product of his father's indiscretion, Bobby's grandmother never forgave him for it, the ill- tempered old woman pronouncing him an impossible, out of control brat from the moment he moved in. It didn't help Bobby that he was quite impulsive, thus getting into scrapes of various seriousness, further enraging his grandmother. "He's just like his wanton slut of a mother," she would pronounce. "A creature driven only by the seeking of pleasure! He's bound to end up on a hanging noose some day!"

After seeing Jeremy in diapers that fateful afternoon, and hearing about his spankings in front of the girls and the next door neighbors, his step-sister Maxine had wasted no time in suggesting to her grandmother that her new stepbrother be disciplined the same way. Her grandmother had dismissed the idea at the time, but, the following April, reconsidered when a farmer from the edge of town had come pounding on her door, claiming that Bobby was one of three boys he'd caught throwing rocks at his pigs and cattle, to the detriment of both. After he'd left, Bobby's grandmother had called him into the living room and screamed at him for almost an hour, moaning about the unfairness of having to deal with the "scandalous get of a slut." After she'd tired of yelling at him and sent him to his room without supper, Maxine had slyly approached her grandmother again, her ever-present friend Ruth in tow.

"You should spank him, Grandmother," she'd said formally. "You should spank him on his bare bottom, like all the other parents do with their sons."

"Yeah, all the mothers spank their boys when they're bad," Ruth chimed in. "You see it all the time! They do it right in the open! You can bet that's what the other two boys' parents are doing! I guarantee little Randy Jackson's over his Ma's knees right now getting his little black bottom tanned with a shingle! Probably right on his front porch! And Floyd Donaldson is probably in the living room of his house, right now, getting whipped with his father's belt on the bare fanny while his sisters and brother look on!"

"What, you think I should march into his room and spank his little ass right now?" Maxine's grandmother asked.

"No, not in his room," Maxine said quickly. If her grandmother went in his room, she'd probably shut the door, she realized, and she'd never see it happen – with the tall crawl-space under their house, his windows were too high to look into from outside. "You should make him come into the living room for his spankings! That's what the other parents do – they do it in the open! It would be more embarrassing that way, and he'd remember it longer so it would work better!"

"Yeah," Ruth chimed in. "Jeremy, down the street, got spanked in front of his cousin and Francine from school back in June, and he's been a little angel since then, hasn't he, Maxine?"

"You bet," Maxine agreed. "So you have to spank him in front of everyone for it to work! And you have to do it on the bare!"

Maxine's grandmother frowned. "I'm not sure it's proper for you girls to see boys your age without their drawers on," she huffed, blowing out a stream of smoke from her ever- present Pall Mall. "Little boys, that's one thing – little boys shouldn't have secrets from little girls. But boys your age—."

"But Bobby isn't our age," Maxine said eagerly. "He's much younger – more than a year! And I'm sure he's too young to have any hair yet, you know, down there, so he'd be just like a little boy!"

"I'll think about it," her grandmother had said. "You're sure all the boys his age are punished that way?"

"Ask Mrs. Whitt if you don't believe me," Maxine had said. "That's how she disciplines Jeremy."

"I don't much talk to her," Maxine's grandmother had huffed. "Too stuck up if you ask me, all high and mighty, driving around in that Chevrolet like she's a man or something! Thinks her manure don't stink!"

Maxine's grandmother hadn't consulted with anyone that day, and she hadn't spanked Bobby that night. But a month later, the night after the end of the school year, Bobby was one of several boys caught breaking windows at the local Jr. High, and escorted home by the local sheriff's deputy. "The school says we have to pay our share of the damage," she'd muttered angrily to Maxine that Saturday morning, while Bobby was still confined to his room as punishment. "It might be as much as a hunnert dollars! Oh, Lordy, what are we gonna do with that spawn of Satan?"

"Spank him," Maxine had said confidently. "Spank him long and hard, here in the living room and on the bare bottom. Spank him until he's blistered all over and can't sit down for a week! Then he'll get the message! And if he doesn't, keep spanking him every week until he does."

Maxine's grandmother had brooded about it all day, a day that Bobby Raphael had spent confined to his bedroom and ordered not to come out, even to the extent of being given a chamber pot to use in lieu of leaving to go to the bathroom. At lunch time she had opened his door and sat down a mason jar of water and three peanut butter sandwiches, and then closed the door again abruptly as he looked up from where he'd been sulking on his bed. She went out for a time after that, coming back sweaty and exhausted more than an hour later. Finally, as the sun was setting for the day, she reached a decision.

"Can't let that little brat rule the roost," Maxine's grandmother had suddenly barked. Maxine and Ruth, who'd been playing with dolls in the corner, looked up.

"What?" Maxine asked.

"Nothin' that concerns you," her grandmother said. "Bobby! Bobby Raphael! Get your little ass in here! Now!"

The door had opened and Bobby had slouched out, still sulking. "Over here," his grandmother had ordered, where she sat in state on her sagging couch, the ash tray at her elbow. She took a long drag on her Pall Mall. "Stand in front of me so I can look at you!"

Bobby slouched over and stood a few feet in front of his grandmother. "Your sister has made an interesting suggestion to me today to deal with your ungodly behavior," his grandmother said without preamble. The two girls turned toward them to watch with interest, their eyes shining with anticipation. Uh oh, this wasn't going to be good, Bobby realized.

"She's not my sister," he complained. "She'll never be my sister. She's only my step-sister."

"That may be," his grandmother said, "But I'm your grandmother, and I'm in charge of you now that your slut of a mother has skipped out and left you on my doorstep." Bobby's grandmother was a strong woman under the layers of fat, her hair streaked with gray and her body wide, but with hard muscles under her plain housedress. She tapped her cigarette against the ashtray at her elbow.

"My ma's not a slut!" Bobby stormed, his head snapping up. "She's a lot better than you!"

"She was a slut who lured my Robert away from his lawful wife with her villainous wiles," his grandmother snapped. "But I would expect that you, the seed of her lust, wouldn't know respectable behavior from bad! I'm not going to let you end up just like her! I'm taking steps right now to change that!"

She took a drag on her cigarette. Bobby looked at the ceiling, hating her, hating all of them, especially his shit-for-brains step-sister. Shit-for-brains – now there was a good nickname for Maxine. His grandmother, after exhaling smoke through her nose, went on. "I walked down the street and talked to Mrs. Jackson this afternoon. You know, that spade woman on the corner whose brat you're always hanging around with. I told her what your sister said we should do to you, and she agreed with your sister's suggestion, says that's what she does all the time with her little spade brat!"

"Don't call my friend Randy a spade!" Bobby retorted. "He don't like being called that. None of them do. He's just a kid, like any other kid! And Maxine isn't my sister – she's just a shit-for-brains butt, and so's her goofy friend!

His grandmother's face darkened. "I will not have you using that kind of foul gutter language! You show some respect for your sister! And I'll call a spade a spade whenever I want, Bobby Raphael," she snapped. Bobby's mother had given him his father's last name despite the fact they were never married. She said it made him more legitimate. Bobby himself didn't care what his last name was, as long as it wasn't something other kids could make fun of. At his old home, he'd known a family whose last name was "Dick," and another whose moniker was "Peters."

"Anyway," his grandmother said. "I've decided, on your sister's advice, to crack down on your wanton ways and institute some changes around here before it's too late. The first change is that you are going to start obeying me absolutely, like a good boy, instead of doing what you want and getting away with it. I'm going to keep a journal of all your misbehavior." At this point, she produced a small notebook with a pen attached to the binding, holding it up for his inspection. In neat letters it was labeled, "Bobby's Punishment Book."

"Every time you disobey me or your sister, use swear words, or do something you shouldn't, it goes in the punishment book. I've already put some of your many misbehaviors of the last week in the book, and I'll enter more as they occur. By the way, Maxine, will you please take this and note Bobby's use those foul words to describe you a moment ago, as well as his refusal to admit that you are his dear sister?" Maxine leaned over the table with the notebook, opened it, and began writing busily, her smirk growing bigger. Her grandmother turned her attention back to Bobby.

"You're going to straighten up, young man!" she continued. "Because from now on, every Saturday evening, I will call you to appear before me as you are now for a good hard spanking, or a paddling if your misbehavior merits it. And when I call you in for punishment, you had better come on the run, and obey me completely throughout and afterward, or I will simply increase your punishment to double or triple what you were going to get. On nights you are punished, you will immediately go to bed after your punishment and will stay there until the next morning."

Bobby's heart thudded. Spanking or paddling? Every Saturday night? "Don't you even think of trying to get away on punishment nights, either," his grandmother added, reading in Bobby's stance what he was thinking of doing that very moment. "Your sister can outrun you, and is big enough to overpower you as well. If you try to escape, I'll send her after you, and then your punishment will be tripled. That means if I was going to spank you 25 times for example, I'll spank you 75 times, instead. Or, if I was going to spank you by hand, I will spank you with the paddle instead. Or if I was going to spank you with the paddle I'll use the belt. So if you're smart, you will obey me completely."

Bobby's face blanched with his growing horror. She was saying he was going to be spanked! Now! And repeatedly in the future! And if he did anything to resist his spanking, he was going to get spanked more and harder! His body was at war with itself, his feet wanting to run, his knees wanting to give way, his bowels churning, and his bladder wanting him to wet all over himself. He began to tremble.

"I see, we understand each other," his grandmother said evilly, stubbing out her Pall Mall. "Come closer, so I can prepare you for the first of what I expect will be many spankings you'll be receiving from me."

Maxine and Ruth smirked at each other in satisfaction, both of their faces showing growing excitement. Bobby didn't move. "Grandma, please!" he begged. "Don't spank me! I'll be good! Really, I will!"

"I'm going to say it again, Bobby! Remember what I said about obeying! Now step over here, so I can lower your naughty pants for your spanking!" His grandmother said firmly.

Bobby took two steps towards his grandmother. "Can't we do it in my bedroom?" He begged, his voice rising an octave in panic. "Pleeeeeeease? Don't do it in front of them, Pleeeeeeease! I don't want them to see me in my underwear!"

"No, I think you'll get a better lesson if I do it out here, in front of your sister," his grandmother said with a look as satisfaction. She pulled him strongly toward her, unsnapping the button on the front of his trousers and pulling down his zipper, grasping his waistband from either side. "Besides," she said. "You've been such a bad boy that a spankin on the underpants isn't going to be sufficient. I'm going to need bare skin for the lesson you're getting!" She yanked Bobby's pants down, revealing his baggy little-boy boxers.

"No!" Bobby said, trying to pull away. His grandmother had him firmly around the waist by then, however, and she pulled him closer to her, lifting him in the air.

"Yes," she said. "But I'll allow you some dignity – if you don't fight me, I won't pull your underpants down until you're across my knee, and you can pull them back up when I'm done if you wish," she said, settling him firmly across her ample lap, his head hanging off onto the couch on one side. She angled her body on the couch, so that his head was nestled in the cushions, and his legs hung off her in space. Looping her left arm firmly around his waist, she pulled down on the waistband of his underpants with her right, easing them slowly down so the first the top of his butt crack, and the outward curve of his firm little-boy buns appeared. With another yank, she managed to pull them, clear off his butt and down to his knees, where they hung between his legs. His light brown buttocks, paler than the rest of his body but revealing the color of his mother's Italian ancestry, were revealed in all their glory. Both girls crowded in, filling their eyes in straight on views of the orbs of the boy's naked bottom.

Bobby's butt was neither padded with fat nor skinny like those of some of the other boys he'd seen at the swimming hole the time two he'd gone there. Instead, it was nicely rounded, prominent enough to protrude from the small his back, firm and round enough to make a good handful for his grandmother's man like hands. Both girls directed their attention to his butt crack simultaneously, noting, to their rising excitement, that his buns were muscular enough that they separated completely as he bent, and thus, his brown butt hole was prominently displayed in his current position – openly, shockingly displayed. The lines of it radiated outward farther than the girls had ever seen on any of the boys or girls they'd babysat for, as did the darker pigmentation. Rather than winking at them shyly, as most little boys' butt holes did, it stared at them, daring them to stare back. Below this dark eye, an expanse of smooth skin disappeared between his closed legs, a prominent brown ridge running down the middle joining him together where girls were separated. Both girls feasted their eyes on this most secret part of any boy's body.

"I can see his shit hole!" Ruth whispered urgently to Maxine. "I can see it right into it!"

"Big deal," Maxine whispered back. "You babysit for boys all the time! You clean up their shit holes all the time!"

"Not big boys," Ruth whispered back. "Not boys our age! And their holes are little and cute, not big and disgusting like that!"

"He's not our age," Maxine said stubbornly. "He's a whole grade younger!"

"Yeah, but he still a boy!" Ruth said. "And you can bet he doesn't like us looking at his shit hole all naked!"

Bobby's grandmother, meanwhile, was adjusting his position and gathering his hands together in her left so she could pin them behind his back. Bobby was begging incoherently for her not to spank him. She squeezed each of his buns with her right hand hard, sizing up their firmness. A tough little butt, she decided to herself. She'd spank him good and hard, then. She raised her hand high above his unprotected little butt, and brought it down with a resounding whack hard enough to sting the palm. Both girls jumped at the sound, and Bobby's legs shot straight out as he arched his back and squeezed his buns together. He was biting his lip fiercely in order not to cry out, trying to be tough like a boy should be. Okay, so Shit-for-brains and her goofy friend were seeing him get a bare-butt spanking. But he wasn't going to cry! Not in front of these girls!

"That's one," his grandmother said. "24 left to go."

24! Bobby thought with despair. He was almost crying now! How could he stand 24!

Meanwhile, Maxine and Ruth were trying to hold back gasps, as they had seen, briefly, what Bobby had between his legs when his legs had, briefly, shot out behind him from where they'd been sheltering his genitals from sight.. Like all boys, he had a wrinkled ball of skin clinging tightly to his groin, bulging out from between his legs and the same brown color as his butt hole. But dangling in front of it, hanging down now in plain sight as Bobby repeatedly kicked with each spank...

"You've got to see it!" Maxine said excitedly to Shirley, Francine, and two other girls. "You absolutely have to see it! My stepbrother has the biggest donger you've ever seen on a little boy! Well, the longest, anyway! I don't see how it gets the thing in his pants without it hanging down a leg and sticking out! It's got to be that long!" She held her index finger and thumb out to indicate a 5 inch span.

"And that's with it soft!" Ruth added. "I'd love to see it hard!"

"He didn't get hard when he got spanked?" Francine asked. "Shirley's cousin Jeremy gets hard when he gets spanked!"

"No," Ruth said in a disappointed tone. "He just stays all soft and floppy."

"Yeah, but you should've seen him after his spanking!" Maxine said excitedly. "He forgot all about us watching! When Grandma sent him down, he started dancing around the room, butt naked, with his little donger flopping around like a puppy dog's tail! And boy was his butt red! Grandma spanks him hard!"

"It was funny!" Ruth said. "All of a sudden he noticed us watching him, and he about went nuts trying to snatch his underpants up and cover himself! He finally gave up and tried to cover his stuff with his hands, but his donger was so long it hangs out the bottom anyway! He went running into his bedroom, his little red butt on display the whole way!"

"And he gets a spanking every week if he's bad?" Francine asked.

"Yeah!" Maxine said. "Every Saturday! Or more often, if he does something really bad!"

"Man, I'd like to see that!" Francine said. "I love watching boys get spanked!"

"That's why got this idea," Maxine said. "I'm going to have all of you come over to my house for a slumber party next Saturday! Grandma lets whoever's there watch him get spanked, she says it makes the spanking more effective! So all of you come over, and we can all watch him! He'll hate it!"

"But what if he's not bad?" Shirley said, spotting a flaw in the plan.

Maxine thought about this for a moment. "We'll just have to make sure he earns a spanking," she said. She brooded a minute. "I know! He always goes into the bathroom to pee just before his radio program comes on after lunch on Saturday. I'll go in the bathroom to take a bath just before that, and I'll leave the door ajar, so he thinks there's no one in there. When he comes in, I'll scream bloody murder that he's a pervert and was trying to look at me while I was taking a bath, and then Grandma will want to spank him for sure! Probably paddle him!!"

"But then he'll see you naked!" Ruth said. "You don't want that!"

"Why not?" Maxine said. "It might give him a stiffy, and if Grandma sees that she'll really whip his butt!" The other girls were scandalized. Maxine looked at them, grinning. "I'm just teasing," she said. "I'll be in a towel when he comes in, so I can show Grandma I was naked, but he won't see anything. And then we'll all get to see his butt get whipped!"

And so what was that Francine and Shirley found themselves knocking on Maxine's door that next Saturday late afternoon, each carrying a paper bag with their pajamas in it. Maxine answered the door. She grinned when she saw girls. "Good, you made it! Everything is all set up! I let him hardly get in the door before I started screaming, and then Grandma got real mad, because it turns out he had a stiffy anyway, because he had to pee, and she could see it through his pants! She banished him to his room until this evening, so we don't even have to see him until she makes him get naked! I think she's going to paddle him this time, because she asked me to get my big wooden hairbrush for her! She keeps picking it up and smacking her hand with it every so often, and then nodding."

Maxine turned to lead them into the house. "Sylvia brought over this new board game that her father sent her from Philadelphia. It's called Monopoly! You buy a bunch of places, and then you get to put houses on them and charge people when they land on them. But you have to own all the properties of one color to do that. We decided to play in the living room because -- well, you know why. So we'll be there when it happens." Ruth and Sylvia were already sitting on the floor by a complex looking game board, with colorful game money spread around them. Francine and Shirley sat down to join them.

For the next two hours, time seemed to fly by as the girls played what to Shirley was the most fascinating game she had ever seen. She even forgot entirely about the boy who was to be spanked that evening, hopefully in front of her and the other girls. Forgot it, that it is, until Maxine's grandmother got up and turned off the radio, commenting, "It's about suppertime. I'd best deal with your pervert of a brother first. She looked at the other girls." Hope you girls won't be offended—I always spank the little bastard here in the living room – he might get kinda loud." She raised her voice. "Bobby Raphael, you get your naughty little ass and here right now so I can punish you! And be quick about it, or I'll double your punishment!"

The door to Bobby's room opened and he came hurrying out, anxious to get his spanking over with, despite the humiliation of knowing his sister would be watching. Rounding the corner in the living room, he came up short to find not just his sister and her goofy friend Ruth, but three other young girls, looking his way expectantly. He froze, his mouth agape. He turned to look at his grandmother pleadingly. "Grandma, please!" He begged. "Not in front of them! Not bare!"

His grandmother glared at him. "Your sister was bare, when you tried to peep at her in the bathtub today," she said. "You should be just as bare when you get your spanking."

Bobby looked at her despairingly. "I wasn't trying to peep at her, honest! I was just going in to pee, because the door was open! I didn't know she was in there!"

"Was the door open, Maxine?" her grandmother asked.

"Oh no, Grandma!" Maxine said earnestly. "I would never leave the door open with Bobby in the house! I'd be afraid to! He's always trying to see up my dress or catch me changing clothes! I think he has an unnatural interest in seeing naked girls!"

"That's not true!" Bobby's wailed. "I wouldn't want to see her naked in a million years! She doesn't even have any tits!" He froze, the color draining out of his face as he realized what he had blurted out.

Maxine's grandmother turned almost purple. "I will not have that kind of talk in my house, Bobby Raphael!" She exclaimed. "That may be the kind of gutter language your slut of a mother used, but we do not talk like that around here! Maxine, go get that bar of laundry soap I keep in the kitchen! This young man obviously needs more than the spanking and paddling I'm going to give him!"

Maxine raced off, to return in a moment with a thick bar of granular looking soap. Her grandmother beckoned to Bobby. "Come here, boy, and take your medicine like a man," she said. Bobby, hesitantly, moved up within her reach, trembling with a combination of fear of the soap and the upcoming spanking, and frustration that no one believed him when he protested his innocence. Shirley's heart was pounding in her chest as she watched Bobby's grandmother firmly unbuckle and unzip his pants and lower them to the floor. She then pulled his T-shirt over his head as well, dropping it beside his pants. Bobby stood there, pale and shaking, looking very small in his dingy boxers. "I should strip you right here in front of the girls, because that's how you wanted to see Maxine. Let all these little girls see your business! But I'm going to allow you to retain some dignity and not pull your pants off until you go over my knees. Now open your mouth for the soap!"

Bobby opened his mouth slightly. "Wider, you little brat!" His grandmother said, shaking him. "Open your mouth all the way up!" Trembling harder, Bobby complied, and Maxine gleefully jammed the soap bar into his mouth, stretching his lips and pushing until only an inch stuck out.
Consternation immediately filled Bobby's face. He tried to push the bar out with his tongue and movements of his jaw muscles, but his teeth were jammed firmly into it and it wouldn't budge. As his saliva began to dissolve the soap, the most horrid taste filled his mouth, a repulsive, burning taste that oozed down his throat and made him move his jaws and tongue convulsively, without success in budging the bar. His grandmother wasted no more time, hoisting him into the air in settling him across her lap, then immediately yanking his underpants down to his ankles and leaving them there. His light brown little butt, healed from his previous weekend's spanking and looking very soft and defenseless, was jackknifed over his grandmother's legs with his calves angled back out at the girls and the bottoms of his grimy bare feet facing them, toes splayed in fright. Maxine noted, to her glee, that he still hadn't realized that with his butt bent at a 90° angle over his grandmother's lap, his butt hole was clearly visible to anyone who cared to look at it, winking at them like a Cyclops eye.

Shirley, meanwhile, was eagerly examining the boy's exposed hindquarters, comparing them to her intimate knowledge of the same region on her cousin Jeremy. She'd always assumed that boys all looked alike "down there." Thus, she was somewhat surprised at the differences between the two boys just from what she could currently see. Bobby Raphael's butt was bigger than Jeremy's, more substantial and somehow fuller than Jeremy's little bottom. And Bobby's doo-doo place, as she called it, was not only darker in color, the wrinkles and folds in it almost brown, but bigger as well, projecting out from the center of his bottom like a little star rather than looking like Jeremy's tight little asterisk. The line running down the center of the soft skin under his doo-doo place was more prominent and brown in color as well, and his legs were thicker and more substantial looking. To her disappointment, though, Bobby was keeping his legs tightly together, trying to preserve his modesty as best a boy can in that exceedingly humiliating position. Shirley hoped that his legs would open, as Jeremy's had, when his spanking started.

His grandmother was consulting his punishment notebook. "Let's see," she was saying. "Besides your perverted behavior of this afternoon, we have the swearing incident yesterday, you use of disrespectful speech to your sister 4 times in the last two days, and, of course, your incredibly foul language of a moment ago. For the swearing and disrespect to your sister, I'm giving you 20 hard spanks, and for your disgusting attempt to view your sister nude and the comment you made about her just now, I'm adding 10 more with the hairbrush."

Bobby moaned. Thirty spanks! Twenty with her massive hand, 10 with the brush! He'd not yet been paddled, with a brush or anything else, by his grandmother. Her hand burned like fire – how would the paddle feel? And she always left blisters on his butt with her hand – what would the paddle do? A shiver coursed through him, starting at his head and continuing down to the toes of his feet, making his firm little butt shimmy for a second. The girls giggled at his antics. His grandmother put down the notebook.

"Time to get started, you little spawn of Satan!" his grandmother said. She raised a firm hand high over his projecting, naked butt. "Remember to hold still for all your spanking and paddling, or I'll double it!"

The hand descended swiftly, landing on the boy's bare right flank with a loud crack, his grandmother determined to spank him as hard as she could, this time, no matter how many blisters she raised on his ass. A swift spank to the other side of the boy's butt followed, then one on the right side again, and one on the left. Bobby, holding on to the barest shred of dignity in the face of massive, gut wrenching humiliation in front of 5 girls, vowed that at least he'd be tough and try not to cry. He also vowed he'd keep his legs tightly together throughout the entire ordeal, so that he would deny the girls even the slightest glimpse of his boy parts. The vow not to cry was the first to go – in part because the horrible-tasting soap bar in his mouth prevented him from biting his lower lip to keep quiet. On the 6th stinging slap to his bare rump, Bobby allowed a little whimper to escape him, and those whimpers built up to wails by the 10th. Soapy drool poured from his mouth onto the linoleum floor in a continuous stream, and tears streaked his face and mixed with the drool puddle on the ground. Soon a line of snot from Bobby's nose joined it as his muffled bawling around the soap intensified.

The vow to keep his legs together and preserve his modesty this week dissolved on the 11th spank. His grandmother stopped alternating sides of his butt on this blow, choosing instead to fetch him one of her best right on the upper center of his butt, spanning both butt cheeks just below the start of his crack. Bobby's involuntary response was to arch his back and shoot both legs out with a squeal that sent soapy drool flying, his package clearly visible to the eagerly watching girls for a least 2 seconds before he his legs fell again. They didn't stay down and preserve his modesty for long, either – the next spank, just below the previous one and overlapping it by about 50%, caused him to scissor his legs, lifting one while bending the other, and spreading his butt wide so that his genital package was in even clearer view than before. The blow that followed, striking the center of the base of his butt, closed his legs briefly as he squeezed his butt hard, as if that would somehow squeeze out the pain, but the next blow, right in the center of his left bun, had him drawing up that leg and extending the other. By the time the 20th spank had landed and his grandmother paused for a moment to catch her breath and pick up the paddle, Bobby's modesty was long gone, along with his decorum and any cares about his dignity and his humiliation. By that point, the world had narrowed for Bobby to encompass only the two burning orbs of his buttocks – all other considerations, including the soap in his mouth and the possibility that the girls watching him could see his genitals were forgotten.

As a result of Bobby's frantic kicking during the last half of his spanking, he had, for some time, exposed his genitals with abandon, that all five girls could see his rather impressive male endowments. Shirley had been shocked at her first glimpse, and then developed a yearning to her very toes as the glimpses became more frequent and longer in duration. At first, when Bobby had parted his legs for the first time, she'd thought she was seeing things – his pee- pee couldn't be that long! But subsequent kicks confirmed her first impression. Maxine, if anything, had
underestimated his dimensions! She stared hard and long between the boy's kicking legs, unable to believe what she was seeing.

At first glance, looking from the back up between his legs, Bobby didn't look all that different from Jeremy – the wrinkled bag of skin was there, clinging to his crotch, tiny marbles bulging out either side. True, the sack was brown rather than Bobby's more pink color, and the marbles might have been slightly more oblong, but it didn't look much different. But where Jeremy had a tiny morsel of flesh dangling that barely showed on the far side of his scotum, Bobby had – had – had a snake, that's what he had! Although it wasn't much wider than Jeremy's, Bobby's little dangler hung down far below his scrotal bulge – more than the width of Shirley's hand below it. It swayed back and forth as he kicked, soft as Jeremy's had been when he'd been in the butt up, over the lap postion, but oh, so much longer! Like Jeremy's, it had a helmet head with a prominent knot of skin where it joined the shaft underneath, and a very visible little slit at the tip that must be this boy's pee-pee hole. But that and its location was the only thing it had in common with poor Jeremy's much smaller little finger of flesh.

Shirley felt a powerful tingling in her groin as she watched the boy's exposed member sway from side to side with his movements. His pee-pee – no, that was the wrong word. Nothing that long should be given a sweet little name like "pee-pee." Jeremy had a pee-pee. This was a tallywhacker – with the emphasis on "whack." In fact, if Bobby were to spin around quickly while nude and standing up, he might very well whack somebody with that thing! She giggled loudly at the thought. Beside her, Francine giggled, too, and then all 5 girls were giggling, probably all for different reasons. Even while giggling, though, Shirley felt a powerful longing, almost a psychic connection. She had to touch that thing – hold it – see if she could make it hard, and see what it looked like when she did. She vowed, before summer was over, that she'd do just that.

For now, though, Bobby still had a major part of his ordeal of this Saturday to contend with. His butt was fiery red and on fire from the hard spanking he'd just received, he was bawling his head off, and his grandmother was picking up Maxine's hairbrush, preparing to really set his hind end ablaze. His heart was thudding so hard he thought it would leap out of his chest. His butt was on fire! He couldn't take any more! But she had him by both hands, firmly pinned to his back, and his butt wouldn't move more than an inch or two either way. His frantic kicking increased, but did nothing to protect his butt. He tensed, still squalling around the soap and waiting for the first blow. About a thousand bees suddenly stung his bare posterior, right in the center, stinging him all the way into his crack so that even his deeply seated butt hole yelped with pain. Bobby stiffened and screamed, spitting out the soap and splaying all ten of his toes while at the same time his fingers curled into claws that clutched at his grandmother's hands without dislodging them. It hurt! It hurt so bad he couldn't stand it! He splayed his legs, trying to get his butt apart, to ease the pain deep inside the crack.

Behind him, the girls were treated to their best view yet of his male attributes, a clear shot of his scrotum clinging between his legs and his long, thin penis swaying with his frantic movements like a dangling snake. Shirley felt like bursting into applause. The next blow of the paddle, landing with a meaty whack, hit just above the first, making the boy spread his legs wider and extend his calves, thumping his toes in a staccato rhythm on the ground. Red blisters were appearing spanning the boy's butt crack, diving deeply between his buns. Even the outside lines of his "doo-doo place" had become red and irritated, Shirley realized. For a moment she felt pity for this poor boy who she hardly knew – his behind looked hot enough to roast marshmallows on, and sore enough that she'd have been howling incoherently. But then, she realized, he was doing just that as well. And the sight of his freakishly long genitalia – well that was worth any suffering he might endure, at least to her.

For Bobby Raphael, it seemed like two painful, white-hot eternities before his grandmother stopped beating his butt, put the paddle down, and released him. Bobby had never felt a sensation this powerful before --his butt feeling like a dozen glowing branding irons were burning on it at once. He landed on the soles of his feet but immediately rose to his toes, clutching his butt frantically and bouncing around the room, squealing and stumbling and rising again to frantically rub his butt some more. The watching girls went into hysterics at the sight of his crotch serpent flopping this way and that as he danced, jiggling and bouncing and contorting into a hundred pretzel shapes. Bobby didn't regain his senses or think about anything but his burning backside for almost five minutes when, his bouncing slowing somewhat, he found himself face to face with Shirley, and he realized she was staring at his genital region. Looking down dumbly, blearily, it suddenly struck him that he was naked, completely naked, totally, embarrassingly, humiliatingly naked, and this girl and several others were watching him make a complete ass of himself hopping about with his peter hanging out. Belatedly, he spotted his underpants on the floor where they'd fallen during his kicking, snatched them up, and held them in a ball in front of his dangling genitals, tearing toward his room with his little red, blistered ass bouncing the whole way. His door slammed and his muffled crying could still be heard as he threw himself on his bed in despair.

Maxine's grandmother handed her the hairbrush. "You might want to wash that with soap before using it, dear," she said sweetly. "You know where it's been, and your step-brother didn't look all that clean." She looked at the flushed- looking, over-excited quintet of young females. "So, who's going to help me with dinner?" she asked.