Tommy's Attitude Adjustment Chapter 67
by Chadlad

copyright 2008 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 67: Ride-em, Cowboy!

The Reverend pushed a button on first the boy's machine, and then the girl's. Both stiffened, expecting a sudden blow, but nothing happened except that there was a soft humming underneath each of them. Between the girl's legs, a lubricated rubber probe rose up suddenly, entering her perfectly positioned vagina and filling it in a way that neither the boy being punished with her nor her cousin had managed. She thought she might split down there, and let out a little shriek.

"I may have neglected to mention the rod of correction," The Reverend said, smiling. "Oh, it won't rip open your precious garden, my dear. Although it might feel that way. It's simply my way of equalizing the pain and humiliation of this experience for the girls and the boys. After all, painful though the bruising of your garden may be, it won't hold a candle by itself to the pain this boy will suffer on his jewels of Adam." He smiled unctiuously. Simultaneously, the boy's board suddenly bucked, striking him square on his balls. The boy turned pure white, trying to double over and catch his breath but unable to, tied as he was to the t-bar. Seconds later, the Pony made a series of choppy, up and down motions not unlike that of a small horse trotting. The girl began bouncing immediately, discovering to her horror that the lips of her vulva were being smacked repeatedly against the pole, and the rubber probe that was fucking her was moving painfully inside her vagina. The pole stopped suddenly, and she wailed her pain, her butt clenched tight trying to hold her vulva above the rod. "I also may not have mentioned that the movements of the two devices are quite different," the Reverend intoned. "Again to adjust to the differences between male and female. For male and female he made them, and who are we to question what was ordained by God?"

The Buckboard suddenly dropped out from under the boy's genitals and buttocks again only to snap suddenly back up again, catching his nether region and boosting him skyward again with a meaty smack that racked his balls and stung him between the legs simultaneously. He let out an agonized yelp this time, only to feel the board suddenly drop again and then snap back, hitting his balls even more squarely. He arched his back, shifting his weight, and bit his lip tightly to keep from screaming. He was still in this position as the Buckboard bucked again, discovering that the next bucking movement hit him square between his buns, the blow even stinging his butt hole. Squeezing his buns in pain, the next bucking motion of the machine hit him on the balls again.

The two punishments were similar, but not identical. The buckboard bucked every 10 seconds or so, unpredictably. Sometimes the boy had to wait, stiffly and in agony, for more than 30 seconds before the next bucking motion would come, and sometimes he'd get two bucks in a row. No position seemed to protect him – it was just a matter of where he wanted his weight to land next. The board didn't rise predictably, either – it could shift fore and aft, so that he might think he was protecting his genitals only to have the front rise faster than the back, smacking them neatly anyway. He gave up trying to predict and protect himself after awhile, merely screaming more loudly when it hit his balls, less loudly when only his sore rump took the blow.

The girl's experience was different, but not better. The saddle moved in a regularly bumping motion, quickly bruising her vulva, the lips of her vagina, and everything from there past her anus. Changing positions only meant other areas were getting bruised, until the whole area between her legs was a mass of pain. The pole raping her cunt was a constant agony, even when not moving.

The children stayed in the lunchroom to witness all of this, even after dinner had been cleaned up, sitting at attention at their tables, ordered by The Reverend to watch one or the other of the two sinners the entire time, or risk being paddled on the spot. (Just to bring the point home, he selected an inattentive 10-year-old as an object lesson, suddenly yanking the boy out of his chair and lifting his tunic and pulling down his underpants right there and giving him 50 solid spanks, then plunking him back on his chair on his sore bottom and turning his head toward the pair.) When the time was up, the machines were stopped, and the moaning, exhausted girl and boy were lifted off and forced to stand, bow legged, facing the group. The boy's balls were raw and swollen, a blotchy red and purple sack bulging in front of the separation of his legs, and his penis was bruised and sore, too. The space between his legs was agony, his fundament bruised all the way in to his anus. The girl's vulva was a red, pulped mass, swollen and purple as well, and she was just as damaged between the legs as he. Both managed to stifle their cries within minutes of being stood in front of the crowd, primarily because the Reverend gave them 5 minutes to control their crying or risk a return trip to the machines. The two stood there, trembling and miserable, hoping against hope that it was over.

But it wasn't, of course. The Reverend made a point of not being that predictable. A carpeted platform the height of the tables was wheeled out, and the two were hoisted upon it, the girl instructed to sit facing the crowd, a task she found difficult on her extremely bruised bottom. The boy was positioned between her spread legs, on his knees and facing away from other children. The bruises low in the center of his buttocks were obvious to all.

"As you insist upon engaging in ungodly fornication, you shall now do it in front of this assembly," The Reverend intoned. "So that they may see how evil you are, and how ridiculous you look in the act of trying to pretend you're adults with children's equipment. As it is what you did before, you, girl, will take his holy scepter in your mouth and suck him to erection, and then you, boy, will insert your scepter in her holy garden, and comport yourself there until you are told to stop."

"Noooooo! I'm too sooooooore!" the girl wailed.

"Me too," the boy whimpered. "And I'm not hard. I can't get hard – it hurts too much!"

"You can and you will," The Reverend said. "You – slut – make him hard." He waved at the girl. "You will take his scepter in your mouth and suck on it, as you did when you two were fornicating. Yes, I know about that. I know everything, and you children had better not forget that fact."

Fearing The Pony, the girl sat up with difficulty and took the boy in her mouth, sucking valiantly and licking the tip of his organ, but his sore little nubbin refused to respond, the boy wincing repeatedly as her efforts simply made his organ more sore. After 5 minutes, The Reverend told her to stop. He motioned for Dr. Menger, who came forward with her medical bag.

"There are simple pills that will make anyboy hard and ready for unholy congress," the Reverend intoned. "Large, blue pills. They'd work even on a boy as immature and obviously unmanly as this one. But I find that route too easy. I prefer an earlier treatment, one that emphasizes the pain that comes of violating God's holy plan." He took a moment to scan the entire room. "Violating God's holy plan is abomination! But that's what you young people do when you engage in intercourse outside his holy covenant of marriage! And it's what you boys do when you handle your holy private parts like so many animals, when you make your scepters stiffen by pawing them yourselves, or by inducing some innocent girl or other lascivious boy to do so! Engorgement of the scepter of Adam is a gift of God, created for the holy job of procreation, or given to one by God in return for a holy life, and not to be sought after for vain pleasure. You children, especially you boys, must learn to trust in God to bring you pleasure when you deserve it! If you trust in God, he will bring you his holy pleasure when you are deserving – you will find your scepter rising, and reaching culmination without your touch or the unholy touch of a young girl, or even more abominable, the touch of a young boy! God will send you that pleasure! And if you continue to follow God's holy ways, he will eventually send you a partner to join in holy wedlock, so that you may experience God's glory in holy procreative congress! But to experience that glory, you cannot subvert God's way, rutting for amusement like pigs in mud! That is what you must learn, young man. We will start by demonstrating that unholy intercourse, intercourse not sanctioned by God, is unnatural and is always accompanied by pain."

He pointed to the pedestal. "Rotate that," he said. "I want them all to see what happens." The attendants quickly turned the pedestal so the boy, kneeling, was facing the audience. "Hold him," The Reverend ordered the attendants. One of the Ward leaders leaped up on the pedestal and grasped the boy's arms and pinned them to his sides. Another knelt on it and circled the boy's thighs, sitting on his shins and feet and thus holding him firmly. Dr. Menger reached in her bag, drawing out a small bottle and a long, wicked-looking needle. Approaching the pedestal, her eyes just at the boy's groin, she very deliberately plunged the needle into the bottle's rubber top and filled the syringe with pale brown liquid up to the 2 cc. mark. Withdrawing the needle, she held it up in front of the boy, who was looking at it with frightened eyes. The needle glittered in the light, appearing to be almost 2 inches long.

"We have neither the time nor the inclination to continue to indulge your lack of virility. " The Reverend intoned. "Frankly, if I didn't have solid proof of your perfidy, I wouldn't have believed a boy with a scepter as small and immature as yours, and jewels of Adam as tiny as yours could have managed unholy congress at all. But you did engage in such congress, and not for the first time, either. And you will engage in it right now, too, to demonstrate the depths of your depravity and the depravity of the slut you rutted with." He nodded toward the doctor. "Give it to him from both sides," he said, his voice the voice of doom. "Slowly. And insert the needle all the way each time."

The boy tried to struggle, but he was held firmly by the two strong young female Ward Leaders who were built like Amazons. Dr. Menger nodded to her nurse. That young woman, a blond-haired, blue eyed bombshell who looked like she'd just stepped from a Swedish sex fantasy, gripped his small, droopy, sore penis in one hand and swabbed first it and then a wide circle around it with iodine. Dr. Menger than probed with her fingers right where the base of the droopy organ exited his body, lining the needle up with the crease it made there. She leaned her weight into it and a bead of blood appeared where the needle pressed the skin. The boy, looking down at her in horror, took his breath in sharply, now rigid in fear. The doctor, now satisfied with the needle's position, slid it slowly and smoothly into the boy's body, right next to the shaft of his penis, the soft area inside of the pubic bone. The boy's head flew back and he screamed, screamed with an agony that shocked all of the watching children. Ignoring him, Dr. Menger kept slowly pressing the needle in, until its entire length was embedded in his groin. The thick body of the needle looked like a second penis standing up hard next to his soft, droopy one. The boy kept screaming, one scream after another, as rapidly could suck in air and force it out again. Dr. Menger slowly began depressing the plunger of the needle, making the brown liquid disappear into his body as she gradually pulled the needle back out a bit at a time, distributing the fluid alongside the root of the boy's penis. The boy's screams went up an octave as she did. Eventually, the needle re-emerged completely from the boy's groin, the tip glistening with his blood. The nurse immediately pressed a gauze pad to the site. The boy's screams diminished a bit in volume as the invading needle left his body. The base of his penis felt strange – hot, somehow, coupled with the sharp stab of the needle track inside him which he swore he could still feel even though the needle was out. He could feel his heartbeat down there, suddenly, quite prominent and insistent. It felt like the whole base of his penis was throbbing in rhythm with his heart, like it was swelling and shrinking with each beat. His screams cut off as the strange sensations overtook him, and he looked down in wonder to see his dick rising visible and rapidly, growing in width and length, stretching the tortured skin out as it did, the foreskin peeling back on its own to let the entire head burst free. He'd never before had the head of his penis swell out of the foreskin on its own like that – he had always had to peel it back before, even when he was fully hard, even when the girl had been lying in the ground under him, naked, her fuck-cleft waiting eagerly for him. This drug-induced hard-on was different than any he'd ever had before – it was hot, and turgid, and somewhat unpleasant. Yet, he had to have relief – he needed it to be touched, to be enclosed, to be stroked – needed it worse than he'd ever needed it in his young life. He felt like he might explode out of his penis at any moment. He wanted to handle himself for reassurance, give himself that blessed relief and who cared who say him doing it. But his hands and feet were tightly held by the stiff-faced young dykes who were immobilizing him, and all he could do was whimper in frustration. Then he noticed what Dr. Menger was doing. She was just removing the needle from the bottle again, fully loaded, and was eyeing his groin, this time on the other side.

"Noooooooooo!" he wailed. "Don't do it again! I can't stand it! It hurts so bad!"

Dr. Menger smiled, and the smile was evil. "Of course," she said. "I've been experimenting, adding a few of my own ingredients to the original drug. A pair of compounds to add to the sing of the needle, and to make it burn for hours afterward. I'm betting it makes your erection last longer and gives you more staying power. You young boys always lack staying power, and to teach your partner the lesson she needs, we need this session to be a long one." Still smiling, she pricked him next to his own prick with the needle, and slowly slid it into the other side of his penis. The boy screamed louder this time, his nose blowing snot and his voice growing hoarse as she slowly distributed her horrific mixture to the other side of his groin, again right along the root of his penis. His organ seemed to swell even more as she withdrew the needle and then nurse, removing the gauze from the one side of his genitalia, stanched the bleeding on the other side. The boy's screams gradually diminished again and he looked down at his penis with wonder through blearyeyes. His organ had grown so turgid it seemed to swell as it left his body, almost like a baseball bat swelling from the handle to the area below the tip. The tip swelled out above his new fully retracted foreskin, like a giant mushroom head on the already fat stem. His pee slit was pulled open by the strength of his erection, looking like a perfectly round hole into the erect penis rather than being neatly shut like it usually was. The whole organ bobbed powerfully with his heartbeat, the tip swelling visible with head pulse. It stung unpleasantly inside him down both sides of the root of it, all the way along the area between his legs clear to his butt hole, and it felt burning hot at the same time, and yet the need to be rubbed, touched, or better yet, enclosed there was overwhelming. He tried to tear loose from his holders, to rub up against something, anything, to deal with the searing need for relief. Dr. Menger interpreted his actions with a knowing smile.

"Hold your horses, stud. You'll get your chance to act like an animal – more of a chance then you've ever wanted. We have to prepare you for your partner, first." She returned to her medical bag, pulling out an unlabelled, squat jar. Opening the lid, she revealed it was full of a creamy white lotion. She took a generous dollop in her gloved hand and began applying it to his huge erection. (Huge, of course, being relative – the boy's penis was still barely over 3 inches long and not even an inch wide even though it was bigger than it had ever been before in his life.) The lotion felt cool and the touch was incredibly gratifying, and the boy whimpered again. But the doctor's touch was brief, and when she released his penis he noticed the cooling sensations of the lotion were rapidly being replaced by a growing heat.

"It's my own recipe," the Doctor said proudly. "A combination of lotion and a strong counterirritant – essentially liquid pepper. It will cause a gradually increasing burning sensation for the next hour or so before gradually diminishing again."

The boy's fear was visible on his face. The doctor smiled her evil smile. "You may notice that I did not apply lotion to the very tip of your generative organ, where the urethra exits. Had I done so, you might have experienced enough pain to lose your erection, and we don't want that, not yet, anyway. The lotion probably feels unpleasantly hot on your unbroken skin, but it would be much more unpleasant on the lining tissue of the urethra." She paused and looked down at the girl, still sitting on the pedestal uncomfortable. "It will be considerably more painful on the unprotected tissue of the vagina."

The boy, meanwhile, was experiencing the most peculiar combination of sensations. He could feel the tracks of the needle inside him, running down either side of his penis root, burning, stimulating, making him hard and throbbing, but not pleasantly throbbing. No, he was throbbing with burning need, throbbing with palpable desire. He needed stimulation! He needed his dick to be squeezed tightly, to be throttled, to be strangled by someone. He struggled to touch himself, but of course he couldn't, not with the two Amazons holding him. He was filled with unquenchable need -- he looked down at the girl's bruised, swollen pussy, and ached to bury himself to the hilt in there. The skin of his penis felt too tight, uncomfortably so, like his body was trying to burst out through there. The foreskin felt like it was strangling the head, and the pee slit was open like a gaping mouth. His penis shaft was heating up, the lotion making it tingle and burn, but he couldn't decide if the burn was uncomfortable or stimulating. He trembled with a combination of pleasant and unpleasant feelings, and it was hard to tell which were dominating.

"Turn the pedestal again," The Reverend ordered, and his minions rotated the platform so that the boy was now on his knees with his back to the audience of mesmerized inmates. Penises had shriveled all over the room as the needles had gone in, and boys were hunching over their private parts, some of them looking sick. The girl was forced down on her back and her legs were pulled up to bend at the knee, in the air, and then spraddled as wide as possible, making her vulva open like an obscene mouth. Then the boy, not at all unwillingly, was forced down on top of her, the Amazon Ward Leaders seizing his penis as he was lowered and guiding it into the swollen, wide open lips of the girl's bruised pussy. The boy's legs were then spread apart as well, so that all those watching could see everything from behind – the boy's shaft buried to the hilt in the girl's pussy, his balls clinging swollen and red to his body. The girls' red butt hole, irritated from the pony, was clearly visible under the impaling penis, and the boy's own hole winked redly from between his buns as well. Tbe Ward Leader who had guided the boy's penis gripped his buttocks and pressed down, immobilizing the two of them with their genitals together.

"Were these two joined in holy matrimony, as is God's plan, and were they pursuing the holy job of creating new life to be brought into God's church, we would call what they are about to do 'making love,'" intoned The Reverend. "But these two are doing the Devil's work – fornicating like animals, for their own earthly pleasure. Love making is a holy communion. But these two weren't engaged in holy communion. They were stimulating their own genitals against each other, just as either of them might rub their genitals against their bedding like toddler children who know no better. But they aren't toddler children, and THEY KNEW WHAT THEY WERE DOING!" he suddenly thundered. Several boys jumped in fright. The Reverend glared at them all.

"There's a word you boys use for the Devil's work, isn't there," he said, suddenly lowering his voice almost to a whisper. "A word for this unholy congress. Tell me, boy with a laughably small staff, what is the word you boys use for the Devil's unholy congress? What do you heathens call what you and this slut whore were doing?"

The boy's eyes rolled wildly. "Don't make me say it," he said piteously. "Please. You'll spank me!"

"I'm not going to spank you this evening," The Reverend said. "Although you'll wish I had. I'm not doing anything to you. Because you, you depraved wretch, will do it all to yourself! Your own desires will become the tool of your undoing! But your cooperation today determins how much punishment you receive tomorrow, and for the rest of the week, and for the rest of the month, for that matter. It determines whether you'll wear clothes again any time soon, whether you'll work at the hardest labor, and whether you'll suffer other painful punishments. It determines whether you'll be sent to join the Babies for the rest of the month, or the Monkeys, or the Pyros, or the Faggots, or the Mules," The Reverend added, each time naming a particularly fearsome punishment group at The Farm. "So I'm going to ask you once again, and you'd better answer this time. What do you call the unholy congress you and this slut whore are about to do, to your eternal damnation!"

'Fucking," the boy whispered.

"What was that?" The Reverend roared. "I don't think your fellow heathens heard you!" He reached over and smacked the boy's butt low and in the center, where the Ward Leader wasn't blocking it. The boy's butt was already sore there from his earlier spanking during his confession.

"Fucking!" the boy wailed. The Reverend smacked his sore butt again, harder this time. The boy felt the burning all the way to his penis base.

"Louder!" the Reverend ordered. "Tell them what you two are doing!"

"WE'RE FUCKING!" the boy said.

"LOUDER!" The Reverend ordered.

:"WE'RE FUCKING! WE"RE FUCKING! WE'RE FUCKING!" the boy screamed.

"Yes, you are," The Reverend said. "So let the instrument of your sin be the instrument of your punishment."

He nodded at the Ward Leader, who released the boy's butt and stood back. The boy, mad with penile desire, needed no additional incentive. He began pumping his little red butt madly, the swollen little penis sliding rapidly in and out, in and out of the girl's open snatch. He grunted with effort as he humped her mercilessly. In a few moments, the girl began moaning, her moaning becoming louder as the boy's movements became more frenetic.

"It will get much worse," The Reverend said complacently over the boy's grunts and the girl's moans. "For him as well as you. For every measure of pleasure the act gave you, you must suffer ten measures of pain."

The boy suddenly rammed even harder into the girl's swollen pussy lips, his butt contracting so hard his butt crack became a thin line. Everyone could see the space between his legs pulsing rhythymically as his immature body attempted to pump its nonexistent seed into the girl's waiting receptacle. As the boy was dry, however, only muscle spasms were the result.

The girl could feel his penis in her now, swelling, pulsing to his dry attempt at ejaculation, feeling much bigger than it had before. It hurt – the whole tunnel of her cunt burned from the lotion, her pussy lips throbbed from the beating they'd taken from the bouncing Pony, and the boy's weight on her, even, was uncomfortable, not to mention his unseemly grunting into her face, his sour breath hot on her cheek. She expected him to stop his thrusting now, roll off of her. And then maybe it'd be over, this whole nightmare.

But that didn't happen. Instead, to her surprised, the boy began a frenzied pumping away at her cunt again, his little hips humping even more madly than before, his grunts louder and more gasping. The burn in her pussy increased, the pain mounting unbearably. Fucking wasn't supposed to be like this – oh, the first time she'd done it with a boy it had hurt, and when she'd taken her uncle's monster penis up there the first time it had hurt, too, but only for a little while. This was a building burn, a constant battering of her poor cunt that was too much to bear. She began begging again for them to pull the boy off, that she'd had enough and couldn't stand it. It wasn't fair – they'd both fucked, but she was getting the pain and punishment, and him, the little turd, was humping away like a horny billy goat, having the time of his life inside her.

She couldn't have been more wrong about that latter conclusion, and she would have been more gratified had she known what was going on inside her partner's head at that moment. He'd been frantic when he'd first entered her, and the tight wetness of her pussy was just what his fevered cock had wanted. But as he'd built to orgasm, his need had grown, and his penis had gotten hotter and tighter until it felt like it was bursting. He had a vision of his penis exploding in her, into bloody shards that would fill her inside, leaving him with a smoking stub, and that was a very unsettling image. But as he neared orgasm, he was convinced that it would soon be over – he'd cum, feel the sublime pleasure that was like nothing else. Oh, jerking off was okay, and you could do it multiple times a day if you wanted. And forcing one of the little boys to give you a blow job was even better – he had a whole group of 5-8 year-olds so terrified of him that, if he cornered one of them, they'd take his little staff in their mouths without hesitation and suck him off (although they generally fled his vicinity if they saw him coming). One even did it willingly, volunteering to blow him from time to time just for the chance to hang around him. But it was nothing like fucking. He always came powerfully when he fucked a girl, came powerfully, felt the relief, and went soft. And he'd do that here, too -- relieve his burning need, go soft, and then they'd have to let him stop.

Or so he'd thought. But when his orgasm finally came, there was no pleasure at all --- he'd shuddered and his body had done its usual pumping, a sensation much like trying to prime a dry well, and then the need for penile stimulation had returned with greater strength, and his dick had felt even more full and gotten even harder. And worse yet, there had been no swell of pleasure – no mind-bending feeling of visceral pleasure. Only more need, the need to fuck again, harder, longer, and deeper. He began humping the girl again, this time ramming into her pussy harder, trying to bury his small organ deeper, and trying to move faster. The effort made him gasp for breath, and his butt muscles were aching and growing more and more tired, but he had to go on – to stop was agony.

The boy was ramming the girl's cunt with his own groin hard enough to hurt her bruised pussy lips seriously, now, and she was thrashing under him, unable to throw him off because one of the Ward Leaders was sitting on both her hands, grinning evilly at her face. She moaned continuously, her cunt, her pussy lips, her whole sex complaining at the boy's frenzied thrusting. She again thought horrible thoughts at the little pig, having fun even though he knew he was hurting her terribly. The boy gave her a final, even more vicious thrust, arching his back and curling his toes as his pelvic muscles pulsed rhythmically again, a moan of frustration escaping him. He shuddered powerfully, then threw his head back and moaned.

"No, you can't orgasm," Dr. Menger said smugly. "But your penis isn't broken – it's just temporarily short-circuited to take the pleasure out of your animal rutting. That's what makes it a punishment."

The boy's body had cycled through this false orgasm 6 times before the raw state of his penis and his partner's vulva had finally persuaded him to relent. The boys penis was still hard, though, when he was pulled off his partner, still full of need for stimulation and still valiantly trying to hump her even harder. By then, both were so sore that their genital regions looked like hamburger, the girl was sobbing loudly and uncontrollably, while the boy shed silent tears of growing frustration. The boy was dragged to the boy's stocks, where he tried valiantly to stimulate his still swollen, raw penis by pulling at the wire through its head and moaning with unfulfilled desire. The girl was walked bow legged to to the girls' stocks, and that's where they stayed while the room was emptied and cleaned and the rest of the inmates returned to their rooms. At bedtime the Ward Leaders finally returned and released each one, taking them to a cold shower and then to the medical ward for antiobiotic treatment of their genitals (But not analgesics, of course – The Reverend knew the value of lasting punishment.) The boy's desire had finally faded and his penis had softened, leaving only a residual burn both inside and out that had him weeping and begging The Reverend's forgiveness. The next day, he'd been sent to join the Babies, and he'd stayed there ever since. The girl had been attached to the Mules the following day, so in some ways she got the worst treatment, but The Reverend had considered that only fair, because ultimately females were to blame for all the sins of lust.

The Reverend returned from his brief reverie as Mrs. Martinez, the school nurse, bustled in carrying her black bag. She stopped in front of Randy and, without warning, lifted his penis and gave his scrotum a cursory glance, then rotated him, spread his butt apart, and looked in, like a toddler being checked for wiping after a visit to the bathroom. "He'll have to come along to the infirmary," she said briskly, crossing to pry open Chad's mouth and look inside. Chad noted, to his dismay, that she was using the same hand that had just been uncomfortably near S. F.'s anus. "Him too," she said. She looked across at the hunched over Randy, who was clutching his balls. "You might as well come along with them – I'll check all three of you out." She looked at Quentin and Gabriel. "You two hurt?" she asked. Both solemnly shook their heads. "Okay, then," she said. "Let's get going."

Before anyone could move, though, a new individual bustled into the boys' bathroom. It was getting downright crowded in there by this point. This new woman was a rather large and formidable individual with an astonishingly big nose who quickly took charge. "What's going on here," Mrs. Rose huffed. "Where is Mr. Gitt?"

"Gone," Mrs. Hendricks sighed. "Apparently out the fire door."

Mrs. Rose glared at the three boys. "Three boys to watch her, and yet she gets away?" she asked. "I suppose I shouldn't have expected any more than that from you three – you're hardly the epitomy of maleness, are you?"

 Mrs. Rose looked as S. F.'s swollen scrotum. "Hrrrmph," she snorted. "And you're naked because…"

 "She took my clothes to get away!" S. F. complained. "I don't have anything to wear! And she made me bleed! Chad, too!"

"She ribbed my diaper," Chad complained.

"They're all three going to the infirmary," Mrs. Martinez said.

"She went out the fire door, you said?" Mrs. Rose asked, ignoring S. F.'s and Chad's complaints. She looked over at the doubled-over Randy. "Stand up straight," she ordered. Randy tried to straighten up, sending him into a fit of dry heaves. Mrs. Rose turned back toward the door. "I want to see this fire door," she said. "I thought they all have alarms."

"They do," Mrs. Hendricks said. "But I believe that one is malfunctioning."

The adults, as a group, passed out of the bathroom door, Mrs. Rose and The Reverend heading down the hall, the other three following part of the way and then stopping to consult concerning how to bring the news to Emily's mother. Chad ventured out far enough to look out the door and watch them without revealing his naked body too much to anyone who might be in the hall. The other boys stayed in the bathroom.

Mrs. Rose reached the door first and examined the opening mechanism. Experimentally, she pushed on it, frowning when no alarm sounded.

"Perhaps I'd best go to your classroom and get Mrs. Gitt," Mrs. Hendricks called down to her. "I hate to call in the police because of the publicity, but the longer we wait, the farther away Miss Gitt could be."

Mrs. Rose pushed the door open and leaned out, scanning Emily's escape path. She ducked back in. "Oh, I don't think we need call the police," she said calmly. The Reverend, who'd come up behind her, leaned over and also looked out the door. He gave a bit of a start, and then passed on through, out of sight.

"Shouldn't we err on the side of caution," Mrs. Hendricks asked. "We don't know what trouble a girl like that might get into."

"Oh, I'm quite sure she won't be getting into trouble," Mrs. Rose said. She looked out the door again, then back at the group in the hallway.

"How can you say that?" the principal said. "There's no telling what a deluded and desperate girl like her might get up to."

"I doubt if she'll be getting up to anything," Mrs. Rose said confidently.

"I know you're famous for knowing every move your students are going to make, Mrs. Rose," Mrs. Hendricks began. "But how can you be sure Miss Gitt isn't doing something right now that will bring shame on the entire school?"

"Because," said Mrs. Rose, and she was smiling now, an uncharacteristic expression on her face if ever there was one. "Emily Gitt is currently hanging upside down from the fence, not 20 feet from this door."