Tommy's Attitude Adjustment Chapter 63
by Chadlad

copyright 2007 by Chadlad, all rights reserved
chadlad3@yahoo.com

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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 63: What Goes in Must Come Out

Mrs. Rose put the class to work on mathematics problems, while Mrs. Gitt calmly pulled out a romance novel and settle herself down to read. Emily kept dancing in front of the room, her movements lewdly separating her pussy lips and displaying the wet, pink tissue inside, especially when she clenched her butt and thrust forward involuntarily. She knew the clenching made her display herself, knew it and couldn't do anything about it, because the enema inside her burned, burned almost as much as the surface of her tortured butt. She was more or less done crying, except for a lone tear now and then and the occasional sniff to keep her nose from running, but she felt miserable, and on top of the misery was the humiliation. It still hurt, it hurt so bad! Her whole butt was aflame. Not the sharp, unbearable sting of being spanked, but the even throb of bruised butt muscle and the tingling heat of blistered skin – bearable, but very, very unpleasant. And the exposed feeling of standing naked in front of everyone, her scrawny body in the open air for all to see.

And see her they did. Even while working, all the children of the class kept looking at her frequently, most of them smirking smugly, lewdly, or both each time they gazed at her body. The only exception was her partner in crime, the girl in the front, who kept her eyes averted from Emily, and looked extremely worried. Emily didn't care what happened to her. Let her family bare her to her boy cousins, let her mother beat her until she was buttless. Heck, let her boy cousins put their disgusting dicks inside her and fuck her like the little pigs they probably were! No matter what they did to her, it wouldn't be this! It wouldn't involve being bare from head to toe in front of the whole class, the object of ridicule probably forever. It wouldn't involve everybody – everybody seeing all her secrets! Even if younger boy cousins spanked her, it would still be all in the family – it wouldn't hold a candle to being spanked by turd-faced Chad Henson. She'd felt his hard baby dick against her stomach at the end, even through the haze of white-hot pain and the burn in her insides – had felt it like a wooden pole prodding her. But then, later, when he'd been rubbing her butt so painfully, she'd noticed she couldn't feel it any more at all. His dick had obviously gone soft in between. Yet, as Chad had demonstrated when he'd been forced to pee in front of class, boys' dicks didn't tend to go soft spontaneously when there were hard like that, at least she didn't think they did. They didn't go soft like that until they were satisfied, until they'd done their little pulsing dance that made the boys' eyes get distant and soft-focused, and made them clench their little butts and grunt. No one would have noticed had Chad clenched his butt while spanking her, she realized. He could have gotten his rocks off at her expense, and no one would be the wiser. He had been a dry cummer when he'd been forced to jerk off in front of the class, but everyone said he'd become a squirter by the time of the gauntlet, and had ejected fluid several times when forced to masturbate in front of the younger kids. Had he cum in his pants while feasting his eyes on her exposed butt and privates? That would be just like the little pig. He probably was sitting there right now with slime surrounding the head of his baby dicklet, probably enjoying wallowing in it. And who would ever know, with him in a diaper? Had she still been a D. A., she'd have contrived some way to strip him in front of class and expose his dick slime to everyone, but in her current position, barred even from speaking, there was nothing she could do to expose him.

Her guts cramped again and she had to focus on breathing hard for a moment, waiting for the cramp to pass. She had to shit – she had to do it so bad! Her guts burned, and her anus strained ineffectively against the plug and screamed agony at her again so that she had to clench her butt, and Jimmy Chen smirked at her and winked as she thrust her pelvis at him as a consequence. She glared at him. He'd pay, too – she'd see to that. They'd all pay, all of the little dork-butts! She envisioned again a favorite fantasy of hers, one in which she was the ruler of everything, and she ordered all the boys lined up in front of her, Chad and Jimmy first in line, of course, but all of the rest of them in a big row. And then she'd beckoned them forward one by one, sitting regally and crooking just her index finger toward them to summon them, hearts pounding, to be stretched out on an operating table and bound tightly to it from head to toe, so she could, at her leisure, take them first by the ball sack and, while each boy screamed and begged, slice vertically down each side of the sack and yank our each glistening ball, one by one, to toss to a waiting pack of dogs by her feet, then, leaving their sacks bleeding, take their now pathetically shrunken penises firmly by their heads, sawing throw with a dull knife, slowly. When she was finished, she'd have her assistants cauterize their open crotch wounds with a hot branding iron, while she'd ram their pathetic, severed dicks down their throats and force them to swallow their own boyhoods….

Another cramp took her, this one sharper than before, and she doubled over, panting, drawing attention to her underdeveloped tits as she did. Jimmy Chen looked up at the little groan she'd made, glanced to see that Mrs. Rose was looking away, and then made little grasping motions with both hands spaced just the right distance apart, indicating what he'd like to do with her bare tits. Emily, fighting the cramp, couldn't even give him a look of disdain.

It wasn't until half an hour, and many more gut wrenching cramps later, that Mrs. Rose called an end to mathematics instruction and told the children to put their books in their desks and take out literature materials. As the students complied, Mrs. Rose turned to Emily. "You should have had enough time by now to fully appreciate how painful a punishment enema can be. Would you like the chance to use the facilities?"

"Oh, yes, please, Mrs. Rose!" Emily gasped.

"Excellent," Mrs. Rose said. "I would have left you to think about it for awhile longer, but we have to get the plug removed from your anus and get you cleaned out in plenty of time for you to fully appreciate The Stimulator before lunch," she said. "Mr. Henson, Mr. Farlow, and Mr. Martinez, would you please escort Mr. Gitt to the boy's bathroom and allow him to empty his enema into the toilet? Mr. Henson, you will remove Mr. Gitt's anal plug. Just unscrew it using the folding ring on the butt end. But make sure that Mr. Gitt is squatting over the toilet with a leg on either side and crouched backwards when you do. Because if he makes a mess in the boys' bathroom, the four of you are responsible for cleaning it up even if you have to use your bare hands. While Mr. Henson is removing the plug, you other two boys will watch from the front to make sure that Mr. Gitt, does not touch any part of his underpants region. I'm sending three of your to make sure than none of you do anything untoward, as has happened in the past when children who were responsible for others have been left alone and unsupervised with them." Here she looked pointedly at Alan for a long, uncomfortable space. Alan looked at his desk, flushing.

"You two are also to make sure Mr. Henson does not attempt to use the facilities himself while he is there, at that he doesn't dare to remove his diaper. Also, you two will be in charge of cleaning Mr. Gitt up after he has emptied himself. Use paper towels and soap, and bring him back with every crack and crevice spotless, or you may very well be joining him in his punishment this afternoon. Mr. Gitt, put your hands at your sides. Henson, stand in front of Mr. Gitt. You other two boys each take one of Mr. Gitt's arms. Mr. Henson, you already have practicing gripping Mr. Gitt's rather odd genitalia, so you can be the one to lead him to and from the bathroom by them."

S. F. and Randy firmly took Emily's left and right arms, and waited while Chad carefully encircled Emily's penis-like nub and then dug his middle finger deep enough into her cleft to get a good grip on her. Once again he marveled at how damp and hot it was in there. He had a brief image of climbing astride a supine Emily, spreading her legs, and driving his again rock hard penis into that hot, wet spot. He wondered what it would feel like, whether it would feel much like his brother's or Gabriel's mouth. Angry at himself for thinking this way about his hated enemy, he gave Emily's genitals an unnecessarily vicious tugging to start her moving. "Ouch! Stop it! You're hurting me!" Emily wailed as she quick trotted out of the room behind Chad, the other two boys hustling her along to the classroom door. Chad, remembering her abuse of his small, sensitive genitals, merely intensified his grip, dug a fingernail into the top of her clitoris, and kept moving, Emily protesting futilely the whole way down the hall to the boys' bathroom. Once there, they didn't hesitate, but let her right around to the first open-door stall, where they backed her in by the waiting toilet. Chad slid in beside the toilet and got behind her, while Randy and S. F. forced her to crouch forward and forced her legs back until she was straddling the toilet. Her butt spread apart, giving Chad a good view of her nether regions—the backside of her pussy clearly visible along with the black plug that was painfully distending her hole. He reached in delicately and flipped up the collapsing ring, trying not to touch the skin on either side of her spread crack has he did. Stupid of me, he thought. I just had my hand all over this butt, and now I worry about what comes out of it! But he still avoided contact and looped a finger into the ring, pulling it tentatively and watching the ring of her anus grip it like a sucking mouth.

"You're supposed to twist it out," S. F. said helpful, looking over Emily's back at the plug.

"I know," Chad said. He made as if to start to twist, then stopped. He looked at S. F. with a frank expression. "What would Emily herself do if she was where I am and I was where she is?" he asked.

S. F., leaning over to study her exposed crack, met Chad's eyes and appeared to need to consider what Chad was talking about. "What do you mean?" he said.

"I mean, would Emily untwist the plug if it was in me, or would she just pull it out?"

S. F.'s confused look slowly dissolved, replaced by a look of comprehension.

"Oh, she'd just pull it out, right Randy?" he said.

"What?" Randy Martinez said.

"The plug in her butt," S. F. said. "Chad and I were just talking about how, if Emily was in charge of one of us, she'd just pull that plug right out of our butts, and then laugh at us if it hurt."

Emily, forced to bend forward with another, even more wrenching cramp, listened with growing horror, but the cramp prevented her from interjecting.

"How much do you suppose it'd hurt to just pull it straight out?" Chad said conversationally. "You know, just to yank it, like you'd yank off a Bandaid?"

"You mean just yank it out? It'd hurt a lot, I bet," S. F. said calmly. "Don't you suppose it'd hurt a lot, Randy?"

Randy clenched his own big butt involuntarily. "Yeah," he said. "It would hurt a lot."

"We should see," Chad said. "You know, like an experiment."

"Noooooooo!" Emily wailed, trying to straighten up. S. F. and Randy both grabbed her arms and back and forced her down again, this time bending almost double. "Noooooo!" she wailed again. "Don't!" But Chad was already pulling mightily on the plug, Emily's anal ring stretching outword like a toddler trying to hold on to a binky being withdrawn by a parent. For a time her anus stretched, the skin whitening as it did, refusing to relinquish its hold on the plastic. The skin seemed to thin as he pulled, and was distending more than an inch before it finally broke loose and collapsed back. A stream of disgusting brown liquid spewed out of her violated hole like water from a stopped hose, barely making it into the toilet and splashing noisily as Emily let out an a squeal of pain. The pressure of expulsion made spatters that sprinkled both the toilet and Chad's bare legs and feet.

"Push her down! Push her down!" Chad said urgently. Belatedly, S. F. and Randy grasped the problem and shoved Emily down hard on the toilet seat, creating new wails from her as her weight on her sore butt created new agonies, agonies that were compounded by the burning liquid splashing on the edges of her blistered butt crack. The three boys fled out of the stall from the mess and stench and left Emily to her misery, regrouping outside. Chad looked at his legs and recoiled at the brown spots all over from his thighs on down.

"It's on me!" he moaned. "I think I'm gonna be sick!"

"Climb onto the sink," S. F. suggested. "You can put your legs in there and wash it off under the tap."

Chad rushed to the sink and piled onto it, frantically running water on his legs. S. F. and Randy turned their attention to Emily, huddled miserable over the toilet, burning fluid still pouring from her guts.

"Spread your legs! That's what you made me do!" Randy said. "Spread 'em so your privates show!"

"Yeah, spread 'em," S. F. said. When Emily didn't comply just huddling miserably over the toilet, he helpfully stepped forward far enough to pull her legs apart for her.

"Yeah, and lean back, like you made me do," Randy Martinez said. "Or we'll tell Mrs. Rose you wouldn't obey us." He pushed back on her shoulders, and S. F. nudged at her knees.

Emily allowed herself to be pushed upright and her legs spread. Her butt hole was screaming in pain from the forceful, abrupt removal of the plug. Her butt crack was burning from the enema solution, which had flowed across it all the way to the bottom lips of her pussy cleft. Her butt throbbed in protest at being sat upon. She shivered as the boys held her in place and the rest of the liquid poured out of her. When the sound of it stopped, S. F. flushed the toilet. "Are you done?" he said. "Because if you are, we have to wipe you."

Chad was, meanwhile, frantically sponging his legs off with soap and water, working up quite a lather while working himself into a lather as well. "She got it on me!" he complained. "It splashed everywhere! It's like I can feel it!"

"Yeah, well we've got to clean her up! And the floor!" S. F. grumbled. "Come one, get up," he prodded Emily. "Let us see how bad it is."

Eager to stop the enema fluid from burning her butt crack and pussy, Emily stood up, and even, at their prodding, bent over, grasping her ankles. A part of her screamed protest at this, because it exposed her pussy and cleft to them, and because it stretched her sore, red butt unbearably. But the fluid that had come out of her burned her butt as badly as being spanked had, and she wanted it off as quickly as possible. Grumbling, S. F. and Randy took turns wiping her butt down with soapy towels, then drew her out of the stall, where she stood, hunched and miserable, while the worked on scrubbing the small smattering of splashes off of the floor and the toilet. Then they gathered more soapy, wet towels and turned their attention back to Emily, who had tentatively straightened up while they were working. "Bend over all the way," S. F. ordered, his voice breaking embarrassingly as he did. "If we don't get all of it, we'll get our butts beaten, too."

Emily entertained a fleeting pleasant thought of little S. F. bent over, his big dick hanging pendulously between his legs as Mrs. Rose paddled him. But immediately a vision of her receiving an additional paddling tomorrow came to mind and wiped this pleasant thought out. Sighing, Emily let herself be bent over. As she did, she noticed the front of S. F.'s pants appeared to be straining. The pig had a stiffy, she thought to herself. I bet they all do, the disgusting turds! She rotated her head to look at Chad's diaper, but he was still sitting in the sink and she couldn't really tell the state of his small penis. Turning her head the other way, she examined Randy Martinez' crotch, noting to her disgust that he had a visible tent in his pants, the impression of the tip of his hard penis actually clearly outlined where it was straining straight out on the cloth. She almost threw up at the thought of what these pigs wanted to do with her, at the image of them forcing themselves between her thighs, invading her private places with their twisted obscenities. She forced herself to look at the ground as the boys invaded her anal area, probing their towel-covered fingers into her swollen, sore anus. She tried not to listen to their comments as they worked.

"You've got to get it out of those wrinkles," S. F. insisted to Randy.

"YOU get it out of the wrinkles," Randy retorted. "I don't want to touch it!"

"You've got a towel, use it," S. F. said.

"I don't want to," Randy said. "It feels all bumpy, even through the towel. It makes me sick!"

"Fine, I'll do it," S. F. said. "But you have to clean the front, then! You and Chad."

Randy appeared ready to protest but gave in and stepped back as S. F. painfully scrubbed Emily's distended, swollen anal ring. She yelped in surprise when his finger dug in unexpectedly. "HEY!" she said.

"Sorry, but I got to get your buttsky wuttsky clean," S. F. apologized. "Or we both get spanked."

"Buttsky wuttsky?" Randy said questioningly. "What's that, Russian or something?"

S. F. stopped scrubbing Emily's anus and looked embarrassed. "That's what my mom called it when I was little. The hole, that is. My bottom was my buttsky, and the hole was buttsky wuttsky. 'Be sure you wipe Mr. Buttsky Wuttsky when you're done, she'd say when I was little. Of course, that was when my mom still lived with us. Before…. Before…" he stopped and gazed into space, his eyes becoming moist. Chad, who'd been sitting in the sink drying his legs, saw his distress and hastened to divert the topic.

"Mine used to call my butt 'Mr. Buster,'" he said. "Be sure to wash Mr. Buster when you take a bath," she'd always say. She didn't have a special word for my butt hole, though."

S. F. and Randy burst out laughing and the tension was broken again. "Hey, Chad, check her out and make sure I didn't miss anything," he said, still laughing. Chad jumped to the ground. Emily had to stay bent over and endure Chad's thorough inspection of her anus. She could swear she felt his breath on her bare skin. "Looks okay to me," he said. "Well, not okay. Her butt's even uglier than you guys'! But I don't see anything dirty."

"Hey, speak for yourself," S. F. said. "Mine's adorable. Cute as a baby's!" Chad was amazed at how much more talkative S.F. was around him now that they'd shared confidences at the mall, and become "Brothers of the Red Butt."

"A baby elephant's, maybe," Chad chortled. "You've got the trunk."

Randy dissolved into giggles, and S. F. and Chad joined in, all three boys laughing hysterically. Emily stayed bent over, her face burning in humiliation and rage. Suddenly the door to the bathroom suddenly swung open and a 4th grader walked in, started toward the urinals, then stopped dead in his tracks and stared at the tableau of three boys gathered around a naked, bent over figure, laughing like hyenas. "Hey!" he said after a moment. "Hey, what's going on? How come that guy's naked? And why are you looking at his butt? And what's so funny?" He paused a second. "Hey, are you guys gay? Are you doing gay stuff!" His eyes lighted with barely concealed interest. "You're doing gay stuff, aren't you! Like on the Internet. Butt stuff!" He took a step forward, his eyes questing.

"She's a girl?" the boy said, his voice dripping incredulity. He stepped over and leaned down, staring between Emily's legs in her bent over position. His eyes visibly bugged out and he did a double take. "She's a girl? Are you sure? Why would a girl be in the boy's bathroom? And why's he naked?" he asked.

Emily considered the odds, weighed another day of spanking, and stood up slowly. The younger boy feasted his eyes on her crotch, took in the feminine cleft and the tiny nub, and nodded. "Gosh, she is a girl! What's she doing in the boys' room, then?" he added, his eyes still glued to Emily's pubic mound. He couldn't believe what he was looking at. This was a real, live girl! Just like the ones in the dirty pictures, only right here, living and breathing and naked for him to look at. His eyes roamed from her pink pussy lips up to her flat chest with the conical, projecting nipples.

"She doesn't have very big boobs," he said.

"No, she doesn't," Chad agreed, climbing off the sink. "She's kinda ugly. But she's still a girl."

Emily glared at Chad. The boy managed to tear his eyes away from her crotch a moment and looked at S. F. "Can I look at her butt?" he asked. "I like girls' butts!"

"You won't like this one," Chad opined.

The boy circled a flushed, angry Emily, taking in the red butt covered with tiny blisters. "Hey, she's been spanked!" he said. "Girls don't get spanked at this school."

"That's 'cause she's officially a boy," Chad explained. "And I'm the one who got to spank her," he added proudly.

"What do you mean, she's 'ficially a boy?" the boy said challengingly. "I'm not stupid – I can see she ain't got no balls or weenie! I can see her girl slit! She ain't no boy!" He walked back around to fill his eyes with the close-up sight of a girl's private parts. He could feel his small penis hardening in his pants, like it always did when he saw dirty pictures. He wondered, briefly, why it did that. The tip of his small organ tingled uncomfortably and he unself-consciously knuckled it through his pants with his right hand. Chad and S. F. exchanged looks.

"She's not a real boy," Chad explained. "Not down there. They made her a boy in the school records because she broke the rules and stole stuff and tried to make it look like I did it."

"And she stole my report," Randy said indignantly.

"And she stuck a Hustler magazine in my desk, and I got caught with it," S. F. said. "And I didn't just get spanked in school for it, either – my mom and her prayer group about beat my butt off!"

"They whipped him down there," Chad said, pointing to his own privates.

"Hey, you're in a diaper!" the boy said, noticing for the first time. "Aren't you too big to be in a diaper? Did you poop your pants or something?"

"Leave Chad alone," S. F. said immediately. "He's only in a diaper because Mrs. Rose is mean. Just wait 'til you get in her class. She'll have you in a diaper, too. Probably all the time. When she's not beating your bare butt in front of the class or making you play with yourself in front of them."

The kid looked slightly put off his stride by S. F.'s last warnings, but he quickly recovered. "I don't care," he said. "Not if you get to see naked girls in your class."

"We don't," S. F. said. "This is special. Now come on, guys, we have to wash her girl stuff.: "Hold still, Bitch," he added bravely.

Emily, who'd been dying of shame during this conversation about her presence in the boys' bathroom her nudity, and her genital region, glared at S. F., trying to burn a hole in him with her eyes. Sure, she had to do what they said now, but she'd get them, she'd get them good later.

"Put your hands behind your head," S. F. added. Emily complied, now shaking slightly in her rage. Next, S. F. prodded her legs apart to make her vulva separate a bit. He gestured elaborately at her vulva to the boy. "Go ahead, little guy," he said. "Look her over good! It may be your only chance for awhile!"

The boy actually got on his knees in front of Emily to look at her genitals from about 6 inches away, twisting his head this way and that as he contemplated her crotch from all angles. "Where do stick your weenie?" he asked innocently.

Emily colored even more deeply as she seethed with anger inside. That was all they thought about, all of the little turds! Sticking you with their stupid pointy things! Invading you and the squirting their dick snot into you! But the fear of additional punishment forced her to stand there and endure the boy's scrutiny until he finally sat back on his haunches and move his gaze to her chest.

"How come, if she's a girl, she's only got little nubbins for boobies?" the boy asked. "The girls in the magazines have great big ones!" He held his hands out in front of him for emphasis.

"'Cause she's a freak," S. F. said confidently. "Come on, we need to get back to the classroom. Randy, you and Chad promised you'd do her front if I did her back, remember?"

Randy remembered, all right. He also remembered Emily feeling his balls up, one by one, under the pretext of cleaning his butt -- isolating each one in its pad of fat, squeezing each one several times in the process, adding to his misery. He remembered her probing his butt hole with her finger, too, jabbing the irritated anal ring itself and snickering at his winces. Well, she didn't have any balls to squeeze, did she, but he'd still get even with her some way.

Chad remembered Emily handling his genitals, too. He especially remembered her squeezing his balls while landing a series a vicious spanks right over his plugged butt hole, grinding the two small marbles together for what seemed like forever. He also remembered the efforts Emily had gone to humiliate him each time he'd been punished. He lathered up a paper towel and approached Emily. "Spread the edges of your stuff apart so I can get in and wash it good," he ordered. "Randy, you get a towel wet and cover it with soap, too – you'll do her next, so we can be sure she's good and clean."

Emily covered her vulva defiantly with both hands and glared at Chad. "No!" she said, all the anger she'd been building through this whole ordeal pouring out. "I'm not letting you put your little piggy hands on me there, dickface! You're disgusting! All of you are disgusting! Always wanting to touch girls, and stick your disgusting things into us! That's what you want, all of you! That's all you ever think about! I see you with your hard dicks in your pants, looking at us, thinking your perverted thoughts! Well, I've had enough! I'm walking out of here and out of this school, and I'm not taking any of this any more!"

Randy gaped at her, and S. F. took a step back. The younger boy backed up all the way to the wall under her withering gaze. Chad, also taken aback, blurted out the first thing that came to his mind.

"You can't leave the school, you're naked!" he said. "You can't go outside naked!"

Emily curled her lip into a snarl. "Then I'll have to take his," she said, looking at S. F. like a cat looks at a mouse, and advancing a step. "I'm sure as hell not wearing a diaper, and fat boy's clothes won't fit me." She advanced another step on S. F., who, being a timid sort and thoroughly cowed by dominating females, stepped back again. "Take off your pants, dorkface," Emily ordered. "And your shirt. Keep your stupid panties – I'm not wearing anything that's been on a boy's butt!"

Randy reached for Emily's arm and caught it. "You can't do that," he said plaintively, tugging at her. "Mrs. Rose will kill you! Your mother will kill you!"

"Yeah," Chad said, reaching for her other arm. "You can't just strip a boy and run away in his clothes! You're mom's here anyway! Where will you go?"

Suddenly Emily moved like lightning. Her knee came up into Chad's crotch, too fast for him to see, and smashed his balls into his pelvic bone, the pain unbearable even padded by a diaper, the force lifting him off his feet and sending him flying across the room to land, painfully, on his tailbone as his head crashed into the wall behind him. Stars and planets circled around his head, and he momentarily forgot where he was and what was going on. Meanwhile, in the next split second, Emily had rounded on Randy Martinez and immediately drove her balled fist into his gut, following with the other fist. Randy collapsed onto the ground over his stomach, clutching his gut and moaning, and Emily kicked him in the crotch for good measure, trying for his balls, but bruising his penis severely instead. Randy gasped effectually for air, his diaphragm momentarily paralyzed with pain. Emily turned, snarling, onto the cowering S. F. The little boy behind him stared frozen for a moment, a widening stain coloring the front of his pants and then spreading down his leg, and then he was out the door pell-mell, fleeing as if for his life. S. F. took another step back.

"I said give me your pants," Emily said. "Now! Or I'll give you worse than I gave them."

Shaking with sudden fear and suffering flashbacks to the Bible study group of his mother and their treatment of him just 3 days before, S. F. tugged his pants off and stepped out of them. Emily eagerly grabbed them up and yanked them on, having to tug hard to make her bigger butt fit into them, but succeeding with great effort in pulling up the zipper. She left the front unbuttoned and motioned at S. F. "Now the shirt," she said. S. F. pulled the shirt over his head and, trembling violently, handed it to her." Randy was moaning, still trying to get his breath, and Chad appeared dazed, lying in the corner where he'd been kicked. S. F. looked small and pathetic in just his small briefs, his huge package incongruously bulging. Emily slipped the school shirt on and turned back to him.

S. F. hesitated. His fear of removing his underpants had been heightened by what had happened to him the last time a woman ordered him to take them off, and he found himself frozen in fear. Emily stepped another step closer, so they were almost nose to nose. "Take them off," she said. "Or I'll kick you right in the balls just like I did them!"

Shuddering, S. F. skinned off his briefs. Emily glared at him standing incongruously in shoes and socks and nothing else. She gave his python-like penis, swaying between his legs in front of his pendulous, oversized balls, a contemptuous sneer. She compared his overlarge package with his white, slightly built body. His ribs showed strongly, his hip bones actually stuck out, and his butt was almost flat. His proportions were ridiculous. She took in the welts still covering his butt and genitals, the bruises on his flanks, and the tiny, healing whip cuts in his penis and snickered. "Got what all you boys deserve, I see," she said. "That was because of me – remember that. I made your folks do that to you. And I'm glad I did. And it's just a fraction of what I'll do to you, what I'll do to all of you. I'll get you. I'll get you, and fatso, there, and Microdick, too! Once I get my mom alone, she'll change her mind. She'll make the school give in, or she'll move me to another school, you'll all see! And then, I'll stalk you all, and I'll get you! I'll get you as easily as I got your clothes, you big-dicked, vampire freak! Better sleep with one eye open!"

S. F. reacted deliciously to Emily's remark, his face going from abject terror to horror. "Now!" she said. "Unless you want me to knee you in the balls and then stuff them in there myself!"

Shaking uncontrollably, S. F. took his underpants and shoved one edge of them them into his mouth. "No, all the way, butt face!" Emily said. "I don't want any part of them sticking out, if you value your balls!"

S. F., terrified, crammed the rest of the underpants into his mouth, making his cheeks bulge out. To Emily's disappointment, his terror did not make his big penis shrink even the tiniest bit, although it jiggled and danced with his visible shaking. He looked at Emily in terror, pleadingly, backing gently away, only to discover that he'd reached the far wall. He flattened his thin, small butt and bony back against it and stood there, quaking. In the corner, Chad was stirring, holding his head with one hand and rubbing the base of his diapered butt with the other. Randy Martinez was moaning and panting, now clutching his genitals with both hands through his pants. Emily brought her face up to S. F.'s, then, like a cobra striking, snaked out a hand and grasped S. F.'s pendulous scrotum, pressing firmly on the oblong orbs inside the baggy skin. Staring S. F. in the eyes with contempt, she squeezed, forcing the two balls back and forth past each other, feeling them deform as she did. S. F. gasped and couldn't breathe, the pain was so intense. He fell to the floor, wheezing, as Emily mercifully let go, his big balls throbbing. She reared her foot back and kicked him as hard as she could in the center of his butt, her bare big toe penetrating all the way between his thin buns, the toenail striking his wounded, swollen anus, which he'd been nursing so carefully all weekend, and scratching deeply, blood seeping immediately. Emily yanked her foot out and kicked him in the center of a cheek for good measure, hard enough to make his entire, slightly built body jerk. S. F. was oblivious, though, both hands clutching his balls as he moaned in agony. Emily turned to Chad, who, dazed from the smack of the wall against his head, was trying to get up.

Emily reached down and hauled Chad up by the upper arm. Holding him, she grabbed the front of his diaper and yanked it off in one pull, breaking the tabs and pulling it from between his weak legs, giving him skin burns between the legs as she did. She tossed it over her head and looked Chad into the eyes, her own eyes burning. "You can tell The Nose that she's a fat, ugly whore, and she can kiss my butt all the way to hell," she said. Chad's mouth opened to protest, and she hit him across the face, a ringing smack that echoed in the closed room and rattled Chad's teeth. He opened his mouth to scream, blood seeping from his mouth and nose, and Emily cocked her hand back and slapped his boy parts straight on, as hard as she could with her open hand, and Chad crumpled like an empty plastic bag, sagging to the floor, unable to scream or even breathe. Emily grinned. "See ya later, Microdick," she said. "When you least expect it. Maybe I'll sneak into your bedroom some night and cut those off for you." She smirked at the three downed boys and turned in triumph to march from the room. Too bad she was barefoot, but it didn't matter – she'd just flit out the fire door down the hall, go out the back gate, and she'd be gone. Gone home, where she'd quickly talk her mother out of this nonsense when she got there. She strode to the door, stopping a moment to survey her work – three boys, two naked, lying moaning and fighting for air on the floor, and herself hardly working up a sweat. Boys were truly, truly pathetic! With this triumphant thought, she backed slowly out of the door.