Tommy's Attitude Adjustment Chapter 33

Tommy's Attitude Adjustment Chapter 33
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 33: Tommy Learns Who He Is

Tommy followed Naomi silently out of his neighborhood and through various twists and turns into a part of town where he seldom ventured. The walk was a long one, more than 2 miles, and the soreness of his tortured anus and the residual soreness of his well-paddled butt made the movement of his shorts over his buttocks continually uncomfortable. They finally arrived in an area near downtown, an area much more urban did his own suburban neighborhood, with shops on the streets and apartments all above them, and traffic on the streets even though it was Sunday. She motioned him up the narrow flight of stairs next to a flower shop and unlocked the door at the top. Stepping inside behind her, he discovered a narrow, dark hallway. She shut the door and locked it with a key from the inside, and motioned him to follow, leading him into a small room with a desk on one side, a window on the other, and a pair of chairs in the small remaining space. Sketches were taped to every wall, sketches that revealed credible talent to Tommy's untrained eyes. "Sit," Naomi said cursorily, plopping down in the other chair. Tommy sat down cautiously, glancing around the room. A sketch of the faces of two quite cute girls, one about his age, was directly opposite him, both girls smiling merrily. He studied it. It was nice work – they looked like they could jump right off the page, and they were cute besides. The older girl had dimples and light, wavy hair framing her face. The younger girl had short hair and an almost boyish look, her darker eyes dancing with mischief the way his friend Jesse's often did. In fact, her mop haircut made her resemble Jesse in some ways, and he found himself looking at her with some fondness.

Disturbed by the connection he'd just made, Tommy shifted his gaze to the adjoining sketch. It was just the older girl this time, in a ballet pose, head thrown back and one leg extended with the toe pointed. The costume she was wearing was skimpy even by ballet standards, though – her small, budding breast clearly poked out of the front of the leotard, the nipples clearly outlined, and her tight, rounded but swelled out the rear. Growing more
uncomfortable with the type of pictures this girl who wanted him as a model painted, Tommy shifted to the next picture, relieved to see that it was just a head and shoulders shot, stopping before where her immature breasts would be. But on closer look the same theme appeared – it was of the younger girl, working her finger in the button hole at the top of her blouse, her tongue licking her upper lip in a definite come-on pose, the kind of pose that said, "I can lick other things, too, you know."

With his disquiet rising, Tommy rotated his head to see the next picture and froze. The same younger girl was in it, but her pose was like one he'd never seen before except in some quickly glimpsed Playboys he'd seen at a friend's house. She was bending over, the picture showing her from the rear, grinning back through her legs at the artist. The picture was rendered in loving detail, again powerfully realistic. But it wasn't the level of detail that had brought Tommy up short – it was her costume – she was wearing the tiniest of bikini bottoms in the picture, and was wearing no top at all. A tiny but perfectly drawn nipple, no different than that found on a boy, was just visible on one side of her chest from between her legs. The bikini bottom was so narrow that a good 2 inches of her butt crack was visible above the cloth, and the triangle covering her pubes was so narrow that clefts of skin where her pubes joined her thighs peaked out. And in the center of the small triangle, the cloth clung tightly, outlining her baby- fat padded pubic area clearly, so clearly you could plainly see the furrow dividing the middle, almost as clearly as if she'd been naked like that girl Chandra who'd been punished with Chad and Alan a few weeks back. Tommy quickly and guiltily looked away, back to the front of the room, only to find that Naomi had been studying his face the whole time he'd been studying the pictures, gauging his reaction.

"My younger sisters," she said, nodding toward the pictures. "Both of them major pieces of ass. Oh, don't look so shocked! That's what you were thinking! You don't have to act so guilty – they're not shy. They're proud of their bodies, like all females should be. The nudes are on the back wall, go ahead, take a look at them. It's obvious you liked Melissa's teaser pictures."

"That's okay, I don't need to see them," Tommy said, embarrassed at the way this girl read his thoughts.

"I said look at them," Naomi said. "Turn around and look at them. Study them carefully. I want you to see what I can do. Then I'll explain what you're going to do. And you'll do it. Or else." She waved the flyswatter in the general direction of Tommy's crotch. Tommy flinched and jumped backward in his chair, then obediently turned around to look behind him.

The two girls were indeed nude in the pictures on the back wall. On the left side, the younger girl stood with arms crossed on her chest, her chin raised proudly and defiantly at the artist, her legs firmly planted wide. She wasn't wearing a stitch of clothing of any kind, and her body was uniformly colored as well, with no visible tan lines at all. Her pubic triangle was fully exposed in this one, not just hinted at. She was painted facing the artist full on, with nothing hidden at all. Tommy, expecting something like he'd seen on Alan's cousin Chandra when she'd had to strip and be punished a few weeks ago, was surprised to see that her genitals were not the tight furrow Chandra had sported, with everything hidden demurely inside. Instead, her pussy lips were separated with pinker tissue sticking out between, making an uneven, rippling mouth-like affair. There was a rounded split at the bottom between her legs, which sat wide apart, so wide you could see her smooth buttocks curving up the other side. At the top of the ragged furrow was the same hooded bump he'd seen an Chandra, only this one was bigger, so that the tip stuck out, separating her pussy slightly there, and was at least twice as big as Chandra's. In the center, between top and bottom, the lips were parted just enough to hint at the shadow of a narrow opening in there – an opening that glistened slightly with moisture. The hole where boys are supposed to stick their dicks, Tommy realized. Like the one he'd been able to see on Chandra only when she spread her pussy lips. Tommy's gaze was caught and he stared, mesmerized by the sexually explicit rendering of this girl's privates. It was almost as realistic as a black and white photograph, as clinical as a medical diagram, as sexual as a fully grown woman's privates.

The twitch of his rapidly hardening penis in his pants forced him to shift his eyes to the center picture. There, the older girl was standing in ¾ profile to the artist, her back leg on a short stool, her female parts also separated in the picture, even more than those of her sister, so that her dick hole – what did they call it – oh, yeah, her vagina, Tommy corrected himself, was more clearly visible even from the outside. The view also allowed a side view of her smooth, round buttocks, just acquiring their womanly curves, and of her budding busom, with small, firm breasts and upward jutting, rapidly developing nipples clearly visible. She held a small whip in one hand, the end of it trailing down beside her leg to the ground, and her expression said that she could control any boy or beast with it. Tommy's penis lurched to full hardness.

In a trance, Tommy shifted to the third picture and almost fell off his chair. This wasn't just a sketch – it was a full-color painting, as realistic and detailed as a photograph, or maybe as detailed as if the two were right there, in the flesh. It depicted the two girls on all fours side by side, with nothing but their butts and the backs of their thighs visible in close-up. Both girls were arching their backs and had their legs apart slighly, so that their genitals were clearly and completely visible between their legs, and both sets of genitals were drawn in exquisite detail, with every fold, shadow, and wrinkle visible. This time both were fully separated, so that their dick holes and pee slits were both clearly visible in the pink valley of tissue between their pussy lips. It was like two almost identical pussies were being presented to him right there, ready for him to just pick the one he wanted for his dick. Their butt holes were wide open and explicitly drawn, too, the younger girl's looking smaller and tighter, the older one's looking pinker and somehow more attractive, even inviting. Tommy briefly flashed to when he'd lined his dick up against Gabriel's tight hole, realizing it had been much like the younger girl's in appearance. Thought of invading his cousin made his penis lurch in his pants. With sudden insight, he realized that although the girls' dick holes were right there, aimed right at him, it was their butt holes that he had thoughts of burying himself in, that were somehow more exciting and attractive. His penis lurched again in his pants as he thought of pushing his dick into the younger girl's hole, the one that was so much like Gabriel's. He found himself briefly trying to remember what Jesse's butt hole had looked like when Chad had been forced to kiss it. His penis shifted again, now tenting his pants, and he guiltily forced his eyes back down. Pussies, he thought. I should be looking at their pussies.

Looking at the carefully-rendered genitals of both girls more carefully, Tommy noted they weren't that identical after all – the older girl, on the left, had a neat little landing strip of fine hair on her groin just above her pussy, visible in the picture because her butt was thrust up and she was leaning downward. The younger girl's groin was completely hairless. The older girl's dick hole was more open looking, the younger one's tight and small – even Chad and Gabriel would have a tight fit in there, Tommy thought to himself. The older girl's butt was smooth and blemish- free, but the younger girl had a pimple with a white head, just aching to be popped, right along the edge of her butt crack immediately out from her pink, neatly pursed butt hole. Yet the overall effect was such that he realized that had he been told to choose a girl to have sex with, he'd never have been able to choose between them from this view alone. Both were glistening wet inside, making Tommy wonder if girls were always like that between their folds, and why they were if that was the case. He wondered what it would be like to have sex with these girls – no, to fuck them – fuck them in their dick holes. He'd take the younger one, he realized. There was something about her he found sexier – more compelling. He liked her narrower hips, her tighter hole – Tommy realized, with a start, that it was her butt hole he was looking at again. Stop it! He told himself. He was supposed to like pussies! But he couldn't take his eyes off the tight little asterisk of her bottom. He licked his dry lips and tried to resist the urge to readjust his aching penis. Unbidden, he found himself imagining what Jesse would look like in that position. He turned back to look at Naomi, trying not to reveal his thoughts.

"Hot, aren't they!" She commented. "Go on, you can admit it. Every guy who sees those pictures gets hard immediately. They're part of a series I'm working on – a photorealistic series called "Pride of Girlhood." When I'm done, it will be a whole series demonstrating the glory of the young female body and illustrating why every girl should feel pride in what she is and what she can do. It's a celebration of the female sex rather than the usual shame the establishment has mandated for us." She smiled to herself in satisfaction, then shifted positions, turning to look directly at Tommy. "And that's why you're here. I'm doing a series on boys, too, that I'll show at the same time, and I just can't do it without realistic models to get the musculature right."

Tommy swallowed, hard. A series like this on boys? With nudes? With him? "You mean, just like this? With naked pictures?" he blurted out.

"Of course with naked pictures. But not all of them naked – you'll notice not all of the girls' pictures are nude. There's something to be said for building anticipation. But it's a yin and yang thing. Boy and girl, meshing but opposing forces. One sticks out, the other takes it in. One is rude and invading, the other gracious and accepting. Opposites in every way. You're going to be my model. I'm going to make a lot of photographs and sketches of ideas I have off of you, then I'll pick the best poses and situations to paint in photorealistic detail, like I'm doing with the girls. That's why I need a real live boy model – everything has to look just right."

"But I have to be naked?" Tommy persisted.

"You have to be any way I say you have to be, young man! I will not put up with any contrary male nonsense from you. You little boys are all much too modest these days."

She stared off into space, musing. "My dad and my uncles used to shower naked together after phys ed from Junior High onward. Mandatory showers. They used to swim naked at the Y back when no females were allowed in the building. You weren't all so afraid to show your precious little butts and little dorks back then. That's part of what's wrong with you young boys these days – you think your bodies are so special! Sometimes I wish I'd been painting back then – it would be so much easier."

She came out of her reverie and glared at him. "Well, I don't have time for all this false modesty. You'll pose how I tell you to pose, when I tell you to pose, and with whom I tell you to pose, or I'll take you over my knee, don't think I won't. And I'll burn your little butt until you decide you're going to cooperate! As long as it takes! I know how to punish little boys like you! Now are you going to do everything I say, or do I pull down your panties and start spanking you right now?"

Tommy gulped. "I was just asking," he mumbled. "You don't have to spank me -- I'll do what you say."

"Good," Naomi said. "So let's get started on our yang project." She stood up. "Of course, you'll be doing something entirely different from the girls, reflecting the male/female opposition. I'm calling your project "Shame of Boyhood." Let's get into the studio." She nudged Tommy to his feet and pushed him ahead of her, out the door and down the hall. Tommy's head was swimming. "Shame of Boyhood?" That didn't sound good. That sounded disturbing and humiliating, that's how it sounded. So did the reference to photorealistic nude pictures of him. What if someone he knew saw them!

He cleared his throat. "The shame of boyhood?" He asked. "I don't get it."

"That's because you're a boy," she said dismissively over her shoulder. "You boys have never gotten it. You think you're kings of the world! But that's just because of your weakness. Because you boys are all weak, you know. Weaker than us girls by far. You're weak, and you're full of shame because you're weak! You don't live as long as girls do, you're more susceptible stress, you're more susceptible to disease, and you're more vulnerable to damage." She turned to face him in the middle the hallway, pointing at his crotch with the flyswatter. "Let's just start with the basic difference between boys and girls, those ugly little things you've got hanging between your legs! They stick out, they're in the way, you catch them in your zippers, and those little marbles you're so proud of hanging in that bag between your legs are so sensitive that the slightest little tap and you're in agony!"

Tommy blushed a bit, at her blatant reference to what he had in his pants, as well as a humiliation of her calling what he'd considered a pair of decent-sized balls "little marbles." They weren't so little! They were a lot bigger than Chad's or Gabriel's! Naomi went on. "And think of all the shameful things you guys can't help doing! From the moment you're born, you poop and pee all over yourselves, and who has to clean you up? Girls!"

"Girls poop and pee on themselves when they're babies, too," Tommy said defensively. "And they're a lot messier because you pee out of your slits and it gets all over you."

"So it washes us off – you boys just sit there and soak in your poop. And we don't do it for as long as boys do!" Naomi said. "Just go into any preschool, and you'll still find boys who all as old as three or even almost four, still in diapers, still being undressed by girls and having her poopy butts wiped clean! Still having to stand here with all their boy stuff hanging out, while the females with better control tend to them. All the girls are trained, but half the boys still have no control over their excretions."

She made a face. "And even after they're trained, boys poop and pee their pants by accident a lot, even school age boys. Why, I'd bet you even money that you've pooped or peed yourself in school at least once!"

Tommy's immediate flush of guilt confirmed her speculation. "Ha! Thought so," Naomi said. "And you probably know other boys who've pooped or peed themselves in class, too! How many girls do you know who've done that?" Tommy's thoughts immediately went to Chad, whose troubles had all started when he'd peed on the teacher while being underpants spanked. Could he think of any girls who'd peed themselves in school? There must have been some! He racked his brain, hoping for a memory he could use as a rejoinder. He couldn't think of a single girl who'd dirtied her pants since kindergarten.

Naomi went on. "And what about bad wetting? Boys wet the bed for years after girls have long since quit! It's boys who get up in the morning with wet pajamas clinging to their crotches, surrounded by a sopping wet spot on the bed, and have to beg their mothers or their sisters to help them clean up, to wash the stink off of them and make them respectable again! It's boys who have to stand in the bathroom butt naked, while their mothers and sisters soap their crotches and their disgusting boy parts because they lacked the self-control to avoid something as simple as peeing all over themselves at night! And even after you guys are half way night trained, you miss the toilet half the time when you pee and end up peeing all over the floor or the sides of the toilet or the walls instead!"

Tommy, starting to blush, looked at the floor. He'd certainly done all of those things. He could still remember standing naked in the bathroom beside Chad as old as age six, as his mother took a soapy washcloth and applied it to first one and then the other set of genitals, all the time expressing disappointment that they were both still peeing the bed every night, making more work for her. At the time, he'd taken solace in the fact that Chad was older and still doing it. He even remembered Beth standing beside them looking superior as they had to submit to having your bare genitals washed.

"You know what else?" she asked. "I bet you used to pee in the bathtub, and not that many years ago. You probably told yourself that the soap in the water made it not matter." She fixed Tommy with a stare. The increased reddening of Tommy's face caused her to nod to herself. "Thought so," she said. "Bet you still pee in the shower, too," she added. "All you guys do. Believe me, I know all your dirty little secrets!"

"And just look at the state of you guy's underpants!" she added. "My sisters can wear a pair of panties all day, and you can still take them off and eat off of the backs of them! You boys leave skid marks more often than not, and then you hide your underpants in the bottom the laundry basket, as if that way no one would ever see the shameful mess you've made!" She added.

Tommy looked up at her sharply. "I don't get poop in my underpants," he said. "I always wipe myself really good! And I wash back there all the time!"

"Then you must be the only boy who does!" She said. "But let's move on. What about when you guys get excited! Your little poles stand up and show everybody what you're thinking! Just like yours did a few minutes ago you were looking at pictures of my sisters! Anyone looking you can tell you're excited -- your thoughts are obvious to anyone who cares to look, and the shame of that should be apparent even to a dim bulb like you! Anybody who wants to look at you can tell the size and the hardness of your little dicks, any time that we want! If that doesn't make you feel ashamed, it should!"

Tommy looked at the floor again, blushing harder. Her last comments had really stung, because the truth was that his erections did make him ashamed, especially the ones he kept getting when boys were involved. As if she was reading his mind, Naomi launched into a new topic. "And half of you are gay for each other, and a lot of you follow through on it by groping each other's his little dicks, or sucking each other off, or even taking each other up your dirty little butts! All because you need to get off! I bet you've done some of those things yourself, with your dirty little friends!" She reached down and grabbed Tommy by the chin, raising his face so she could look in his eyes. "You have, haven't you! You've fooled around with other boys, let them touch your dick. Or maybe even more! Tell me, Tommy, have you ever had a boy's dick in your mouth? Sucked him until he came? Swallow that disgusting snot you guys squirt out?"

Tommy's look was enough to confirm her questions. "I thought so," she said. "How about taking a boy up his butt – I bet you did that, too! Stuck your dick up some little boy's dirty, poopy butt hole! Talk about disgusting!"

Tommy was flooded with shock. How could she know what he'd done? Suddenly he realized the answer. He looked up, angry and defiant now. "Beth told you," he said. "You didn't guess – Beth told you why I was being punished."

"Okay, so you're not as big a fool as you first appeared," Naomi said lightly. "But you're still a little butt-fucker and cock-sucker, and you should be ashamed of both things."

Tommy took a lost shot at defiance, at standing up against this withering onslaught. "Girls suck boys' dicks, too," he said. "A girl sucked my brother's dick and even my little cousin's dick Saturday night. Swallowed his stuff, too!" He glared at her, red-faced but determined.

"Big deal. If she wanted to do it, good for her! That's different from making someone do it! Most guys try to make their girls do it! You want to invade girls with those things of yours! You want to batter your way into her body whether she wants you there or not! The stupid thing is designed to invade, to go where it isn't wanted. And you don't just stick it in – you stick it in, then pull it out and stick it in again, over and over, so you can continuously re-invade a girl. It's all about your pleasure for you guys – you don't give a thought to how the girl feels, being split apart with that thing!"

She took a deep breath. "That's why I only have sex with other girls," she said. "Girls don't invade, and the focus is on giving each other pleasure, not just taking it for ourselves."

"But men and women are supposed to have sex," Tommy protested. "It's how we're made!"

"Nonesense," Naomi said dismissively. "We don't even need you shameful, disgusting creatures! All you are is sperm donors! Girls make the babies. Girls are the only reason the human race goes on. You boys are all right in your place – you're kind of decorative, and rather nice to hold, I'll admit. But we don't need your cocks invading us all the time. We don't need them at all. If a girl wants you, invites you to enter her, more power to her, but it should be on her terms. The most important thing is that she enjoy it. But do you boys realize that? No, you swagger around like you're kings of the world – like the selfish, dirty, disgusting creatures you are. And that includes you! You're a disgusting dirty little boy, just like all the others. And you'll grow into a disgusting dirty man, just like all the others! That's what I mean by the shame of boyhood!"

Tommy, defeated and stung by her summarization of the character of his entire sex, looked at the floor. Were boys really as bad as all that? True, he did have the most disgusting urges sometimes, such as when he'd pooped on the neighbor's step and gotten away with it – had actually gotten his output blamed on a dog. And he'd developed strong remorse over his accidental butt-raping of Gabriel – he flushed with shame just thinking about it. It bothered him even more that he'd wanted to hurt Jesse at the time – Jesse, who'd always been his dearest and most loyal friend. Yet the most awful urges came over him! Like those powerful urges he'd been having to do things to other boys – right now, just the thought of watching Jesse shuck out of his underwear a few weeks ago and stand proudly naked in front of him and his brother Chad, and of watching Chad reluctantly get on his knees and take his friend's dick in his mouth and make him cum made shivers run down Tommy's spine. Naomi was right -- he was disgusting! He was vile, low animal, a creature interested in its own pleasure. Hadn't he invaded Gabriel's butt, just like Naomi said boys do all the time? Was he concerned about what Gabriel wanted when he did? All he'd been thinking about when fucking Gabriel's butt was what his dick felt like in there, and how badly he needed to cum.

And what about his brother Chad? He'd had so much fun lording his superior position over Chad during his brother's punishment period. He remembered the glee with which he'd forced Chad over his lap and spanked his butt, actually feeling powerful and superior when he made Chad cry. He remembered his fascination with making Chad sit on the peg chair, watching Chad's face as the peg impaled him, stretching his hole painfully. An image flashed by of Chad hanging from the closet clothes rod, waiting in terror as he'd gleefully lined his finger up with each of Chad's balls and flicked them as hard as he could. He'd gotten a hard-on then, he realized – he'd been massively excited at violating his brother that way. And speaking of violations, he'd reamed Chad's butt out with his finger, hadn't he? Not just once, but several times in the bath, and even in their room. And made Chad suck him over and over again – invaded Chad's body with his dick, enjoying that he could make Chad take it.

And so were the other boys he knew. Chad, whose explosive temper had eventually resulted in him having to he'd run the gauntlet at school. Jesse, who'd started this whole thing by messing with Tommy's bare butt and genitals while he was half asleep and too out of it to protest. Alan, who'd masturbated his brother and himself in the school infirmary and gotten caught. The list went on and on. He felt like crying.

Naomi, noting with smug satisfaction his increasing dejection, went on. "And let's talk about discipline," she said. "Who gets in trouble all the time? Boys. And who has to correct them? Girls. It's mothers who have to pull down little boys' dirty underpants and bend them over and smack their stinky bottoms to get them to behave! How many girls have you ever seen get spanked, and how many boys? I bet it's only girls!"

Tommy remembered watching Chandra, Alan's cousin, get spanked, among other punishments, just a few weeks ago. But he didn't say anything – the lump in his throat made talking difficult. Besides, thinking about that night made him think about Alan, Chad's newest friend. Alan, standing stark naked with his hands behind his head, his long thin penis intriguingly different from Chad's as well as Tommy's own. Alan with an erection, that penis now curving toward his belly, throbbing with his heartbeat. The image of Alan and Chad lying face to crotch, sucking each other simultaneously, pulling out each time one of them came to reduce the enjoyment of the punishment. He'd loved watching that at the time, he'd realized – had an erection as hard and throbbing as the one he had now. He'd even had even pictured being Chad and having to suck Alan while masturbating alone in his bed. In his fantasy, Alan had failed to pull out, had cum in his mouth, and Tommy had pictured having to swallow it, causing a pleasurable shiver that had made him ejaculate hard enough that his output cleared the tip of his penis and arched over to land on his belly. God, he was perverted. And Chad appeared to be perverted too, and Alan. And Jesse, of course. Jesse, who'd humped Chad's mouth with glee along with him, and who'd started this whole thing by gradually working his way down Tommy's butt under the guise of massaging him until he'd finally ended up handling Tommy's genitals? And Gabriel, who'd fucked Tommy's own butt last night with such glee while Chad had restrained him?

"Some boys like being spanked and paddled, you know," Naomi was saying. "They even get into trouble deliberately so their moms and sisters will spank them. They get hard when they're getting spanked, even shoot their stuff sometimes. Maybe you're one of them. Maybe you get hard when you get spanked!"

Tommy reddened further and looked more resolutely at the floor. He'd gotten hard repeatedly when being spanked. Of course, he'd gotten soft when being spanked too. Did that mean anything? Which was really him?

Naomi turned abruptly and continued down the hall, leaving Tommy no choice but to trudge after her, head down and blushing with shame. He was still trying to grasp what Beth had gotten him into when they emerged into a large room full of light, with huge skylights in the ceiling, a room taking up most of the entire rest of the floor. Worktables, stools, chairs, benches, and various props were scattered everywhere, as were sculpture projects in various states of construction. The walls were covered with sketches and paintings in various states of completion. Many were of children and adolescents of various ages, including more pictures of the two girls. Some were nude or only partially clothed, and many were explicit, and not just pictures of the girls. Tommy spotted a realistic painting of a boy of maybe 8, face downcast in a look of shame, facing the artist, the crotch of his blue jeans soaked and dark blue, a realistic yellow-tinged puddle next to a stocking-clad, also soaked foot. Naomi caught his glance. "Too young," she said. "Not enough shame there. Now with a boy your age, it would be better – more powerful."

Tommy looked away, but his eyes immediately fell on a drawing next to that of the shamed boy of the two girls that almost made his eyes pop. Both were stark naked like before, but the older one was standing facing forward with her legs proudly apart and a hand pushing her genitals up and out from below, and a stream was arching from between her pussy lips above her hand and out of the picture, while the other girl watched admiringly. Naomi grinned at him. "What, you thought girls couldn't do anything boys can do?" she said mockingly. "We can pee standing up any time we want, just like you. We just care more about the mess we make."

God, girls peeing standing up? Was that really possible? Tommy wondered. He felt like he'd fallen into a different universe. He tore his eyes away, but there was no escape – everywhere were reminders of proud girls and shamed boys. A partially completed statue of a boy, displaying his body only from the naval downward, had captured the boy with his fingers desperately pulling on a tiny, hard penis, the little sausage looking pathetically small in even his small hand, dwarfed by his baby-fat chubby thighs. A small tableau of three sculpted figures in clay sat on a work bench, each figure about a foot tall. A boy stood with his pants and underpants at his knees, the barest button of a penis peeking out of his crotch, while making two other points of a triangle, pointing and laughing, were statures of clothed girls looking at his tiny, pathetic phallus and covering their faces with their free hands to suppress their reaction. On the wall next to it, a drawing of a boy in briefs, just the torso, age unclear, but his tiny tool clearly tenting his undies, yet looking pathetically small. A complete and realistic painting next to it of a medium sized boy crying softly over a feminine lap, the younger sister caught in mid blow applying the next firm smack to his tensed posterior. His posterior showed a couple of clear pink handprints, and the fact that his face bore only a trickle of tears suggested the spanking had just begun. Tacked to the edge of that picture, the face, just the face, of the same boy, now bawling at the top of his lungs, eyes wild and puffy and snot smearing his face. He reminded Tommy of how Chad had looked after his family paddling. Tommy was frozen, unable to turn away from the drawings. Finally, Naomi took him by the hand to center of the room, an open area sporting a small three legged stool. "Sit down there a moment," she said to him. "Let me look at you."

Tommy settled gingerly on the stool, his behind still hurting considerably from the spankings he'd gotten, the butt-fucking Gabriel had given him, and the invasion and subsequent expelling of the carrot. Naomi walked around him from all angles, studying him for an extensive period of time. "Sit up straight," she suddenly barked at him. Tommy tried to sit straighter. The angle hurt the bruises on his bottom. The girl continued to study him. "Beth said you got spanked and paddled yesterday. Still blistered?"

Tommy nodded, his face reddening. Naomi leaned over his back, pulled out the waist band of his pants and underpants, and studied the visible part of his bare butt, nodding to herself. Tommy, meanwhile, was caught up in a web of memory. He didn't like to think about yesterday. Yesterday had been a revelation to him in many ways. He hadn't realized there was so much more to being spanked than just the pain. When Chad had been spanked repeatedly for a week, with Tommy providing several of the spankings himself, Tommy had naturally assumed that the pain was the worst part of it all for Chad. He hadn't realized what a large role the humiliation played in the process. Pulling off his shirt, unbuttoning his pants, feeling the cool air on his naked buttocks and genitals when everyone else was clothed, other kids watching him with open interest or contempt. Having to let them look at all your private places, places you'd kept hidden since you were a little boy. Even from your mom. Wondering what they were thinking as they sized up your genitals, the boys making comparisons to what they had in their own pants hidden away, the girls thinking God knows what as they looked at the odd protuberances that boys sported. Having folks look at your butt hole -- your butt hole! The dirty, disgusting part of your body, a place out of your line of sight, a place he was never sure was quite clean, even after he washed it. After all, poop came out of there, dirty disgusting poop! And even if it was clean, he'd seen it in the mirror himself, and it certainly wasn't pretty! And being surrounded by Girl Scouts while all this was going on – girls his own age!

And the looking was just the beginning of it. Because once he was undressed, he'd had his arms bound, and then he'd been forced to go voluntarily over his younger cousin's lap. He'd actually had to walk over and drape himself butt up over his cousin's knees! He'd felt the eyes upon him as he'd walked on shaking legs like a man walking to his execution, only their eyes were on his genitals, not on his face, as they swayed back and forth as he walked, feeling peculiar in the cool air. Then had come the process of getting into position -- into the position of subordinate to the younger boy -- the position that said that his butt, this secret part of his body, was his younger cousin's property, to do with as he saw fit. To make sting and burn as much as he desired, until he'd gotten tired of hurting Tommy. Going down, across his younger cousin's lap, going across his lap to get spanked! To get spanked on his round little bottom, to get spanked out in the open, where everybody could see! Spanked bare, because with a little boy it didn't matter who saw his genitals, who saw his butt, who saw his butt hole! It only mattered that he be taught a lesson, a public lesson of pain and humiliation. A lesson that said, you are nothing but a little boy, a contemptible little boy who deserves a little boy punishment! We're going to make you get into this position and stay there, and we're going to smack your little bottom with an open hand, or with a big wooden paddle, or with whatever we choose, for as long as we choose, and you have to lie there and take it because you are just a little boy! The aim of the punishment to make him cry, cry publicly, loudly, and uncontrollably! Cry, because his little bottom hurt, hurt so bad he couldn't stand it, hurt so bad he had to abandon all dignity, all claims to being a big boy!

Tommy hadn't realized before he got into position across Gabriel's lap just how humiliating the experience was going to be. It wasn't just being naked in front of his relatives and a group of Girl Scouts, not to mention Mr. and Mrs. Winston. It wasn't just being spanked on his bottom like a little boy, spanked so hard that he cried, cried and begged and pleaded and kicked with abandon. No, it wasn't just the process of getting naked and getting spanked itself. It was all the steps before hand, knowing the spanking was coming, knowing the humiliation and nudity was coming, knowing you were going to have to go through it. It was having to stand up afterward, stand up and let everyone see your face, after they've seen you cry like a little boy while you got your butt beat! Letting everyone see your face, and all those other girls and boys sporting that superior look that said, you just got spanked in front of us on your bare bottom! You just got spanked, and we saw all your wiener and your nuts and your butt in your butt hole and everything, and will be able to remember seeing them for the rest of our lives. And we all saw you get spanked, saw you in the most humiliating position a little boy ever can be in. Stripped of all dignity, privates on display, blubbering, while his bare butt was slowly and surely set on fire by a little kid several years younger than him. It was the knowledge that he would see in the faces of all the people who'd seen him get spanked yesterday, the look that would say, yes, I was there! I saw you, all of you, in the most humiliating circumstance a boy could be in. And I'll remember. Tommy shuddered just thinking about it.

"Lose the shirt," Naomi suddenly said, snapping Tommy out of his reverie. Tommy remembering Beth's admonition to behave, pulled the shirt over his head and set holding it in his lap, his thin chest exposed in the cool air. "Stand up," the girl said. "Put one leg up on the chair and lean on it like you're thinking." Tommy complied, and she stared at him a while longer. "Now lean back and flex," she said. Tommy, feeling ridiculous, flexed his boyish muscles. He flushed when he realized how weak and pathetic his arms looked in that position. Naomi smiled, her smile almost a smirk. "Now you're getting it," she said. "Your build says pathetic loser all over it. And when you try to show off like that, it makes it even more pathetic looking."

Tommy dropped his arms to his sides, staring down at his thin chest. He'd always thought he looked rather good, but seeing himself through her eyes he felt small and pathetic. The girl kept studying him from all angles, like he was a side of beef and she a butcher with knife in hand looking for where to cut first. "Lose the pants," she finally ordered. "But keep the underpants on."

"Look..." Tommy said, hesitating. "Are you sure it's me you want? Wouldn't an older boy, like my brother..."

"I said, lose the pants!" The girl snapped. "I was promised it would be completely obedient! Don't think I can't make you cry! Did you see the picture of that boy screaming, right next to the one my sister spanking him? She did that to him – a little girl! I'm lots bigger and stronger, and I can hit your butt a lot harder – do you want to try me:"

Tommy still hesitated. "You're gonna spank me anyway," he muttered to the ground.

"What? Speak up, I can't hear you when you talk to the floor," Naomi snapped.

Tommy looked up and met her eye defiantly. "You're going to do it anyway. Spank me, that is. Whether I obey or not. You're going to make me do all those things you said, aren't you, so you can take your pictures or make your sketches or do whatever you do with your models. Then you're going to paint your pictures and make your sculptures, and put them on display somewhere so everyone can look at me bare naked looking like a pathetic loser. You'll do all that stuff whether I do what you say or not, won't you? So what difference does it make if I obey willingly or you make me?"

Naomi met his gaze steadily. "You know nothing, little boy," she said evenly. "First of all, I'm an artist – a very, very good artist. I can paint people so realistically that you'd swear it was a photograph you were looking at – you've already seen that in some of the pictures of my sisters I've finished. I can make the pictures so realistic that everyone who sees them will know that it's Tommy Lame- ass who's in them, Tommy Lame-ass who's being humiliated and shamed. So realistic that total strangers would see you and immediately know you were the model, and also know just what the pathetic contents of your underpants look like. Or I could make you look different – change your hair color and style, alter your cheek bones and eyes a bit, make your mouth a different shape, and even your own mother wouldn't know you were the model unless she knows your nether regions well. Those I'll still paint realistically, of course, because it's important to me that you know that everyone who sees the pictures I paint will be seeing you in all your inadequate glory. The shame you'll feel today doing the thing I'm going to make you do will be much greater because you'll know each detail will be depicted accurately for people to see, and that additional shame will show up on your face, your expression, your demeanor. And I'll capture that – it'll be there in my work. So I'll get every wrinkle of your little bag down perfectly, and every vein in your little dangler, too. If you've got a protruding hemorrhoid, I'll get that, too, in perfect detail. It's that realism that makes my pictures seem more real than life itself."

That's why the girl had the pimple, Tommy thought. He realized it had been bothering him – why mar the perfection of her buttocks with a pimple so vivid it looked like it would pop if you touched it. But the pimple made it authentic – it screamed to the viewer, I've done nothing to sugar coat this – this is life!

Something else she'd said struck him. "What's a hemorrhoid?" he asked.

"God, kid, don't you know anything? It's a vein in your butt hole that has ruptured and bulges out. Mostly they're inside your butt, but sometimes they stick out your butt hole or they're on the surface of the hole itself, making a big bulge. They're pretty gross-looking then. You can get them from straining too hard trying to shit," she said, smirking at him. "But back to what I was saying. I can choose to make your face recognizable to all or not – it's up to me. So it does matter how cooperative you are."

She took a deep breath while Tommy tried to take this in. "And as far as your statement that I'm going to spank you anyway, or rather have my sisters do it, I probably am, although you never know – I'm very creative, and I like to go for the unexpected. But even if I do turn one or both of them loose on your butt, there are spankings, and then there are spankings. So tell me, Tommy-boy. What kind of spankings do you want to get this afternoon?"