Tommy's Attitude Adjustment Chapter 97
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 97: Humiliation All Round

It was Jimmy's turn, and he was relishing every minute of it. He swaggered to the chair, paint stirrer in hand, and plopped down heavily on his undersized Asian butt. He pointed with the paddle at the crying Courtney, who, having not been told not to, was slowly and ruefully rubbing her reddened posterior, where S. F. seemed to have made quite an impression with just his bare hand. "Over my knees, bitch," he ordered forcefully. "I'm going to set your big girly butt on fire!"

"Young man," Mrs. Snetch began...

Jimmy looked up at her. "I know what you're going to say," he said. "But she has been a bitch, that's what this is all about. She needs to hear what she's been, and to be reminded of it every second. I know - I've been punished a lot myself, Chad can vouch for that. If you don't get reminded a lot what you did before, during, and after being spanked, you get to feeling sorry for yourself instead of sorry for what you did. And half of being spanked, maybe more than half - it's hearing what they're going to do to you. It makes it worse. You're lying there, trying not to bawl like a little baby because it hurts, and then your mom or someone tells you that it's still going to hurt a lot worse before it's done, and you just give up. And that makes it more of a punishment. Believe me, I know - I got whipped on the horse, and the worst part was being told I was going to be tied there and wouldn't be able to get away, no matter what they did to my butt or my privates. And when I was getting my butt whipped, and it hurt so bad, and they were telling me my privates were next, that made it hurt worse, somehow. So she needs to know that her ass is going to burn like I've set in on fire, only worse because it's slow, and you get to feel each smack. And she needs to be reminded that, no matter how bad it feels while I'm paddling her, the she's getting worse after that."

Mrs. Snetch nodded, her lips pressed into a line. Jimmy looked back at Courtney, who was still standing, rubbing her ass, her crying settling down but her face showing real fear as she contemplated her immediate future over his lap.

"Now, get into position, bitch," he commanded. "So I can beat your butt." Slowly she settled over his lap, her tits angling down again as she did to point at the ground. Every other boy in the room but Alan seemed to be mesmerized, unable to take their eyes off those firm, pointed mounds with their nipples so much larger than a boy's. Jimmy looped a hand proprietarily across the rather attractive small of her back and surveyed her hand-reddened butt. She haltingly bent her butt to a right angle, prompted by her mother's tapping of the backs of her thighs. Her face was tense, betraying the pain of moving the tender skin. "Grab onto the chair rungs like you did with S. F.," he added. Courtney complied and looked at the floor. Jimmy set the paddle down carefully on the center of Courtney's bare back and placed a hand on each of Courtney's bare buns. "Better make sure the soap is still in good," he said, grinning at the watching boys. He paused with his hands in place. "Wow, she's really hot back here already," he added. "But she'll be a lot hotter when I'm done." He pulled her buns roughly apart, stretching the tender skin, and glanced down at her butt hole as she tensed and winced. "Looks tight - don't see anything," he said. "But I'd better make sure." He spit on his right index finger and, without preamble or warning, slid it roughly into the girl's pursed butt hole.

"EEEEEEE!" Courtney shrilled, kicking her legs. Jimmy pulled the finger back out.

"Still good and deep," he commented. Courtney felt rage building inside her. Stupid Jimmy Chen thinks he can just stick his stupid boy fingers up my butt? Well, she'd show him. She stopped kicking, quelled her crying for the moment, and tensed her abdomen, at the same time relaxing her clenched anal ring. Suddenly a flurry of bubbles erupted from her butt hole, like a bubble machine, along with a loud "brrrrrpt." Jimmy ducked his head away and frowned as Jeremy and Matty burst out laughing. Even Chad was smiling at the look on Jimmy's face, and Alan was showing his first genuine grin of the night. Jimmy looked at Mrs. Snetch. "Did you see that?" he said. "She did it deliberately - she wanted to fart in my face! You could see her push before she did it! She's - she's trying to show ...what's that word where you're saying 'shit on you?'" He struggled. Mrs. Snetch frowned at his language.

"Contempt!" Mrs. Git said brightly. "She's showing contempt! Kind of feisty of her, considering her position. And chancy. Why, when I was girl, my brother once broke wind where our father was about to spank him and I thought he'd get his bottom beaten off before our father stopped - he was carrying a pillow around to sit on for a month, I swear."

"You can't let her get away with that," Jimmy said, turning to Mrs. Snetch. "My ma would blister me but good if I farted when she was about to spank me - heck, she'd blister me good if I farted when she was lecturing me."

"You have a point," said Mrs. Snetch grimly. "Although I still don't approve of your raw language, young man. Courtney Snetch, I will not stand for such disrespect when you're being properly punished. For that outburst, you shall be receiving an additional very severe punishment from this boy after he has finished paddling you. I believe several strong blows to the anal fundament are called for," she said. "Meanwhile, you will grab onto that chair rung and you will hang onto that rung until he is thoroughly finished with you, including punishment of that part of you that is behaving so uncouthly."

"What's that mean?" Matty said, looking blankly at Jeremy.

"She's gonna get paddled on her poo-hole for tooting," Jeremy said in a superior voice.

"Ooooo, nasty," Matty rejoined. "Won't that hurt a lot?"

"That's pretty much the whole point of the exercise," Mrs. Snetch said grimly. "You may begin on her bottom any time, young man," she added to Jimmy, who was gently and quietly caressing Courtney's bare butt with his right hand, feeling the soft skin and moving ever closer to her vulva. "Yes, ma'am," Jimmy said politely, seizing the small paddle in an iron grip. He eyed Courtney's soft, red butt. "I'm going to make this hurt," he said cheerfully. He raised his small paddle and without stopping or giving her time to think about it, brought it down quickly across the center of both buns. There was a soft smack when it landed, not at all like the meaty, resonant cracks that S. F.'s bare hand had made to the same skin. But Courtney stiffened, and he knew she could feel the sting. He knew himself what it felt like - his mother had paddled him thoroughly with a paint stirrer several times, on underpants and bare butt, and it was deceptive in its effects. It didn't seem like it ought to be a big deal, but it caused a sharp sting when it, mostly along the edges and across the tip. The sting built rapidly to a sharp, glowing burn that enveloped your whole butt, especially when you were paddled fast with on. So he didn't lift the paddle all that high, and made his blows rapid, far faster than S. F.'s spanks, laying down almost 2 smacks a second. His technique was simple - after that first blow in the center, he laid on each additional blow just half a paddle width below the previous one, so that half of each smack overlapped the still smarting skin of the previous blow. He worked his way down her butt this way all the way to where the curve met her thighs, then returned to the center and worked her way up to the top of the cleft of her buns. Courtney was whimpering in a high-pitched tone now, like an injured puppy being kicked by an sadistic 4th grader or a mouse being gradually crushed with a rolling pin. He knew how she felt - the paint stirrer didn't flood your butt with pain like other paddles or the bare hand - it just laid down a carpet of stings, almost as sharp as bee stings at the tip, until the overall effect was excruciating. He watched her buns shiver as he continued to lay it on. He worked down her left bun exclusively, from top to bottom, then her right. Courtney's cries were loud sobs now, attesting to the effect he was having on her butt. That part of her anatomy was glowing bright red now over its entire surface, heat radiating from the red glow. As he reached the bottom of her right bun, Mrs. Snetch stopped him.

"That's enough of that," she said. "You may now teach my daughter a lesson on decorum when being spanked." She moved over and squatted by Courtney, reaching across to spread Courtney's buns wide with her hands by gripping the base of each one. Courtney squealed at the pain of her grip on her smarting backside. Her butt hole and the bottom of the opening to her cunt gaped at Jimmy. To Jimmy, it was like a wide open bull's eye.

"This is going to hurt," he said loudly, and set to work reddening her butt crack, starting at the whiter skin that had been protected while her buns had been together during his paddling of her, with an eye toward working his way to her asshole and to the opening of her cunt. Anticipation, that was what it was all about - he'd learned that over the horse. The burning lines from where the switch had already beaten on his ass were bad enough, but the worst thing was the burning lines you knew you were still going to get, and wondering if you could stand how much they would hurt. He remembered being tied helplessly to the horse. He'd been able to feel each individual stripe on his butt, throbbing with a sharp pain that couldn't be described, his muscles under the skin aching from the bruising they'd taken at the same time. And he remembered Emily pausing, resting the switch down the length of his open butt crack, him knowing that she was going to strike there next. He'd have peed himself then, if he hadn't been empty already, he'd have been squirting like a fountain. Because he'd been so frightened. His butt crack had felt 10 miles wide, and he'd tried to squeeze his buns closed, but they were paralyzed with pain from being whipped, and all the attempt did was increase the agony. And then it got worse, because the switch left his ass, and he knew it would come crashing down on his tender, vulnerable hole, and maybe even his balls, and his fear of the pain that would result had been a palpable thing, a physical monster that gripped his brain and squeezed. And when the whip finally whistled through the air, it had seemed an eternity before it landed, an eternity where he died of terror again and again before the squirt of fire lit up his butt crack from the top all the way to his balls, and then he'd known nothing but searing pain and greater terror that it wasn't done.

And then he'd finished working down both sides of her buns, and all that was left was her asshole and her cunt edge. He lined the paddle up gently against her spread butt, the tip right on her asshole, so she could feel the anticipation, and know where the next one was coming, just as he had. Of course, it wasn't like being whipped, as he had been. The paint stirrer was a thin slat of wood - it didn't welt or cut the skin like a switch. It wouldn't leave a burning line behind it, like the switch that had been applied to his own butt crack had, nor a deep bruise that would hurt for days. And the tip wouldn't cut into the skin, either, leaving a welt or even broken skin behind, as had happed with one of the blows to the edge of his scrotum. (But not his balls - they had been safely between his groin and the torturing lump on the horse, thank goodness). Still, she had to be petrified of what was coming. Feeling the tip of the paddle against her hole ought to scare the piss out of her. That though gave him pause - what if she did piss on him? He'd get it on his pants, that was certain. Well, he wasn't missing the opportunity because of that risk - if she pissed on him, he'd complain and insist she be paddled on her pisser, that's what he'd do! He probed the tight slit and the surrounding wrinkles with the paddle a bit more firmly - make sure the bitch knew the next one was coming there, and the force of the tip would strike right in that spot. It ought to hurt enough to get her attention, especially if he then made the tip dance around the slit on the following spanks, thoroughly paddling the wrinkled muscle of the eye itself. Then he could let one stray to her cunt lips, just as Emily had let blows stray to his ball sack. There - enough anticipation. He raised the little paddle to apply the first blow to her vulnerable pink hole itself.

But Courtney wasn't tied to the horse like he'd been, and thus what happened next was probably inevitable and should have been anticipated. Courtney's hands flew to her butt, she arched her back and clenched, and she covered her butt hole and most of her crack with both hands, blocking his swing. "Noooooo!" She squealed. "Not there!" She tried to shake herself free of mother's grip on her bright red butt.

Mrs. Snetch sighed. "Apparently we're going to have to restrain you, Courtney," she said tiredly. "I had hoped you'd be better than this and take your punishment without complaint, but I should have known better. You'll have to pay for this, too. Mrs. Git, if you'd fetch the restraints?"

Tommy Henson's tongue was tired. His tongue was tired, his mouth was tired, and his jaw ached. His arms were cramping from supporting himself over his cousin's crotch. The lower half of his face - his chin, his cheeks, his mouth, and even his nose, were sopping wet, soaked in the fluids that seemed to seep out of Dakota's crotch in an inexhaustible supply as well as with his own copious drool. The female smell of her had gradually permeated his being, filling his nostrils, sinking into his flesh, perhaps even gathering in his hair until it had become part of him. Worse yet than the having to keep lapping, lapping, lapping on the girl's increasingly more slippery and engorged private parts was her comments about it. Because she wouldn't just shut up and enjoy whatever sensations girls got from what he was doing, the way boys tended to shut up when they had their cocks sucked. No, she had to talk. Had to make little comments and remarks, and expect him to listen and acknowledge them.

"So, you a convert yet?" she had asked after the second time she'd cum, a process much like her first cum in that she again rammed her crotch into his face and his face into her crotch while gasping and panting and shivering before collapsing to the bed. It was like her first cum, but it wasn't also, because this time when she rammed his face into her, she was more swollen down there now, and much wetter. Still, as before, she didn't allow him to stop, not even to rest his aching, tired tongue and jaw a minute, simply hissing at him to "keep licking," until the spasms in her cunt had stopped entirely. Then she'd relaxed and dragged his head out of there, allowing him to take a breath unimpaired. "You like how us girls taste?" she teased. "Ready to give up on the guys?"

"No," he'd said. "I mean, no I don't like this. I don't like doing guys either." The lie came to him automatically even as he wondered to himself if everyone could see how he felt inside just by looking at him, could see his vague longings that he'd only recently been able to see himself. It seemed like it - how many girls had already noticed his attraction to other males? Beth clearly seemed to have noticed, and Dakota, or course. And Naomi. Were there others? Was there something obvious about him that said, 'gay?' "I don't like boys," he said again. "Really. The only stuff I've done with boys is stuff Beth and you made me do."

"Yeah, right," Dakota sneered. "Like you wouldn't be ten times happier lapping my little brother's short, pointy ding-a-ling rather than where you are." She held his head up in the darkness by her grip in his hair, and he waited, glad for the respite, while she considered. "Tell you what, dork-brains. I'll give you a choice - you can keep working on me, or you can go down the hall and suck my brother's cock for the next hour instead. You've got 5 seconds - make a decision."

He could go? Tommy felt relief for a moment. He started to pull up to a sitting position, then thought better of it. If he said he wanted to go, yeah, he'd be out of this disgusting job, but she'd have her views confirmed, and she'd have won this one hands down. He reversed his movement and lowered his head to her again, feeling for her thighs with his fingers and poising his face where her crotch had to be. He felt her shiver under his touch. "I don't want to do Gabriel," he said, trying to sound convincing. "Ever again," he added.

"Yeah, right," Dakota said. "Maybe I should be glad you're a liar. At least I get this."

"I'm not lying!" Tommy insisted.

"Yeah, right. Tell it to my cunt." She said. She grasped his hair in both hands and he felt shooting pains in his scalp as she yanked his head back down. "Maybe you'll convince it," she added. "You're not convincing me," she added pushing his face into herself by yanking his hair.

"Takeesy," he said, his voice muffled by being buried in her cunt. "Atturts." She yanked his head up.

"What?" she barked in the darkness.

"Ow! I said take it easy! That hurts!" Tommy protested.

"So does getting fucked in the butt," she snapped back. "Or so my brother tells me." She shoved his face back into her crotch. "Did you know he got fucked in the butt? Oh, right, you're the one who fucked him there. Did you think about how much his butt hole hurt when you were fucking him there? Or only how much you liked doing it? Listen, asshole. I don't care what part of you hurts, any more than you cared about the pain you caused reaming out my brother's tight little butthole." She shoved his head back into her hot wetness. "Suck my clit for awhile," she ordered.

Tommy dutifully tried to get his lips around the small, slippery lump and suck on it. It was bigger than it had been, had grown quite a lot, actually, although it was still tinier by far than even the tiniest little penis. It was swollen and sloppy, still hard to get a lip-grip on despite being bigger. He didn't like cunts much, he decided. Not at all. They were all wet and slippery and they had that salty tang to them that he didn't like, either. Not like a boy's cock. Now a boy's cock was a nice, dry, clean thing compared to this. All smooth and rubbery and hard. You could get your mouth around a cock. And the more excited a boy got, the harder he got, rather than getting softer and wetter and sloppier like this. He pulsed in your mouth, the head swelling each time he squeezed his butt. And the squeezes came closer and closer, so you could tell he was enjoying it, he didn't just lie there and leak stuff out. And most of all, when a boy came, he'd had enough for awhile - none of this, "keep licking, Slimeball!" garbage for hours and hours. You knew when a boy was done, and you guys could go on and do something else. And maybe he'd make you suck him again later, but he didn't make you do it all the time! Even Gabriel was done once he came. And sure, boys sometimes squirted when they came, especially older boys with hair down there. But they didn't seep all over the place! A swallow or two, and you were done with boys. None of this leaking all over a guy's face!

"Okay, go back to licking again," Dakota ordered from the darkness, emphasizing her order by tweaking his hair. "Lick around my clit for awhile." That was another thing. He knew what to do with boys - they had the same stuff he had, and he just had to do what he liked. He had no idea how to deal with this gaping wet slit and its puny bump at the top, no idea at all.

"Owmujonger?" he said, muffled by her pussy lips. Dakota yanked his head up.

"What, turdmeister?" she asked.

Tommy winced. "How much longer?" he asked plaintively.

"Until I'm done, asshole," she said. She shoved his face back into her hot wetness. "Until I'm done, and not a second before."

His mouth was a dull ache inside, the tongue attachment deep in his throat screaming in fatigue. His facial skin was getting all pruny from the constant wetness. And still she insisted he lick her, moving his face here and there on her cunt at will. At one point, she made him stick his tongue into her further down the slit, made him stick it all the way out and burrow into the tight tunnel of her dick hole, and that was weird. Then she made him lick just above there, finally telling him, chuckling maliciously, that he was licking her pee slit. And that bothered him, and he didn't know why it did. Boys had pee slits, too, and he didn't worry about them. What was a girl's pee slit different? Well, it was surrounded by wet stuff, for starters, and boys were nice and dry and you could pretend pee never came out of them.

But he didn't have long to ponder this, because soon it was back to the top part of her cunt again, where he thought he'd pass out from the fatigue as he was ordered to lick the bump as fast as he could. Then came a few moments where he thought he'd suffocate as she rammed his face, nose and all, into her cunt as she came and came in a hip-thrashing frenzy. But finally on this, her sixth cum by his count, she shoved his head away and yanked her fingers from his hair. He sat back gratefully on his haunches, between her legs, waiting for the fatigue in his mouth to subside. He could still feel the faint throb of his butt from his many spankings over the last few days, the odd fatigue inside his boy parts from all the orgasms he'd had, and the full puffiness of his butt hole where he'd let the older boy take him. And now this - his tongue aching with fatigue and practically paralyzed from licking a girl's private parts. He hoped she was done, hoped with all his strength. Because he wasn't sure he could take any more. He still couldn't seen anything after all this time in darkness. He knew she lay there with a leg on either side of him, apparently reveling in the aftermath of his efforts, because he could feel her thighs pressing down either side of the bed. Finally, when he was wondering if he was supposed to just quietly leave or something, she pulled one leg up and around him and slid off the side of the bed. She must have been fastening her robe as she went, because she was completely covered when she suddenly snapped on the room light, revealing herself standing by the door, looking flushed but composed. The robe chastely covered her entire body again, and she crossed her arms and looked at him.

"Not bad for a beginner," she acknowledged. "I've needed that for a long time - it's hard to find a good cunt licker, except for the pervy dads at the foster homes. And they always expect it to lead to other things that I don't like as much. And the dykes, but they expect you to do it back, and that's not my thing, either.

Tommy thought that made perfect sense. Dakota went on. "And you'd think you guys might offer to help us out now and then, especially if we've just gotten your rocks off, but you dickwads think with your pricks, and when the stiffy is gone, you're gone, too."

She frowned at him when he said nothing, merely sitting butt naked on his haunches, legs apart, heedless of his exposed, still orange genitals, working his mouth like the Tin Man did on the Wizard of Oz just after being oiled. "I don't suppose there's any chance you liked it and want to do it again soon?" she said, sounding a bit wistful and slightly more human and vulnerable than Tommy had seen her before. He immediately hated what he was going to say.

"No," he finally said, in a soft of croak. He knew he probably should have said "yes," but the whole idea was making him shudder at the moment. Man, his mouth stiffened up fast after all that licking.

"'Course not," she said cynically. "I shouldn't have expected anything else from a butt-stuffer like you."

"You don't have to call me names," Tommy said bitterly. "Really. I'm getting sick of it. Just 'cause I don't like licking you down there doesn't mean I don't like girls."

"No, it doesn't," Dakota said. "You're right, I've known lots of boys who like girls who don't like doing oral on us. It's your stiffy when you see the other boys naked that says you don't like girls. And your total lack of a stiffy to girls. I had on my shorty nightie last night, with nothing underneath it. Nothing! No bra, no panties - it was there for you to see if you just cared to look! Yet you didn't even try to peak up my skirt. Oh, your brother did. Even with his baby balls on the line, your brother still gave me a good look - I saw his eyes widen when he did. Heck, my own brother looked, too, and he's seen me naked before." Tommy looked down. He hadn't even thought of trying to see up her skirt last night, even when she's stood over him. And he hadn't even considered why that might be or how it might look, even though he attempted to picture the privates of about every boy he saw, now. "And there's the hungry way you look at that Jesse kid. You actually eye his butt when he's walking away from you, you know. Anyone watching you can see it. And when he comes in a room, you look at his face, first, then you sneak a look at his crotch - I know, I was watching. You don't do that to any girls - you don't do that to me! You wouldn't get hard if I pulled my robe off right now, I bet."

"Maybe you're just not that attractive," Tommy snapped.

"Maybe you're just not that straight," Dakota snapped back. She glared at him then suddenly pulled the front of her robe open, baring her chest. She had nicely formed, pert little breasts, as her figure had suggested - not big, only A-cups, but nicely shaped and with firm nipples. They'd have made any boy in his class droll. Tommy tried to make himself stare at them hungrily, like she said he'd done with Jesse's butt. He tried to make his eyes bore right through her. They stood there like that almost a minute. Then Dakota let her arms fall but didn't pull the robe closed again. She looked at him bitterly, not even trying to cover her chest up again. "You're cute," she said. "We could have quite a lot of fun. But you have to be into boys." She stalked over to the bed and lay down, staring at the ceiling, still not bothering to close her robe. Here tone sent a wash of shame through him, like he felt when he'd been unable to please his mother. He couldn't face her, so he kept staring at the door. Why was she so upset - even if he did like boys, what was it to her? All of a sudden it hit him.

"That's stupid," she sniffed.

"No it isn't - you're jealous. Well, actually, I mean yes it is. Stupid. 'Cause even if I did want you, it's not like you and I could do anything - you're my cousin."

"So?" she snapped back. "A mouth or a hand is a mouth or a hand in the dark. It's not like we're planning on having babies. Even if we did do stuff together I wouldn't have let you do the nasty. But a little touching or licking each other now and then, what's the harm? We give each other pleasure until we have other opportunities. No muss, no fuss, no strings. My boyfriend can't get it up, you help me out. Your guy can't make it over for a little butt bingo, I help you out. But no. I fall for the cousin who's hot for my brother's dork instead. I fall for the cousin who'd rather stuff his dick up my brother's butt than ... than..." She lapsed into a stony silence.

"I'm not..." Tommy began.

"Don't even say it. It's just a big joke when you say it. Don't tell me you're not a butt pirate. What you're not, is hard," Dakota said. "I've had my tits hanging out for, like, five minutes, and you don't even twitch! I bet if I brought Gabriel in here and pulled down his pants, you'd be creaming the bedspread. Heck, I probably wouldn't even have to take down his pants. I'm lying here with my tits hanging out right now and you don't even want to look. So stop telling me you're not queer -- I know it's a lie, you know it's a lie, and arguing about it isn't going to change that." She glared at him, then looked down, suddenly pulling her robe shut again. "And to think I was going to let you see my cunt," she said. "Give you a little treat as a reward. But you don't care, do you. You don't want to see it anyway, and when you stay soft like that I'll just feel worse."

Tommy didn't say anything, because there didn't appear anything to say. Once again he'd disappointed one of the females in his life. She looked at the ceiling, and he thought confused thoughts. He wasn't disappointed that she'd put the robe back on - he was right about that. He didn't want to see the sloppy wetness of her cunt, anyway, reminding him how it had felt while he'd been servicing her. And she was right about his other feelings, too. He'd wanted to see Jesse's crotch every time his friend had pulled down his underwear, in fact, he looked at Jesse fully clothed and wondered about his cock, what position it was in, how hard it was, the whole bit. And he'd been in heart-thumping excitement wanting to see the strange boy's cock, the one who lived in Wayne's apartment house. He'd been hard waiting for Wayne to pull down his pants, too, when they'd been preparing for a shower, and that was after staring at Wayne's hard dick all afternoon as they'd moved books. And the thought of Gabriel's stout little soldier, standing at attention - he'd look at that any day. There was none of that heady excitement with Dakota, none at all.

"I wonder what your mother would think about her favorite little boy being a sausage gobbler," Dakota said petulantly.

Tommy found this thought disturbing, and the silence flowed for awhile. Dakota suddenly turned and glared at him. "What?" she said. "You can't even share your feelings with a girl, either? A person has to have a dork to even talk seriously to you? I'm not worth your time unless I pee standing up?"

"I don't mind talking to girls," Tommy said defensively. "Stop putting words in my mouth. I just didn't answer because I don't know," he added. He paused, groping for words. "I don't think Mom would want to know about it. She'd probably pretend she didn't understand me if I said anything." He paused, suddenly realizing he'd tacitly agreed with her that he was gay. Oh, hell, screw that. He was done fighting. She already knew - did it matter? She's never wanted to talk about any boy stuff to Chad and me. We learned a long time ago that she doesn't even want to hear the word 'penis.' It was like she wanted to pretend we didn't have them. I told her once, when I was in kindergarten or first grade, that the pants she'd bought me hurt my wiener when it got hard, and it was like I hadn't said anything. She just went on talking about my day like she hadn't heard me. So I told her again, and she ignored me again. So I gave up." He thought some more. "When we got into school, she got mad if she even saw one. Like when Chad was in P. J.s once, and his kinda slipped out. Which was funny, 'cause he was usually so small he never slipped out. But he was on the couch, and we were watching TV, and his dick kinda slipped out, so the head was showing. And she looked at him and her face got all disgusted, like she was seeing something gross and disgusting. And I looked to see what it was, and it was just his dick head sticking out. And she reached over and yanked his pajama pants shut and made us go to bed right then."

"Moms have their own problems," Dakota said dismissively. "You have to take care of yourself in the world. If your donger hurts in one position, move it to another, that's what I told Gabriel. And you don't show it to people who don't want to see it."

"Kinda hard to do when you're naked all the time," Tommy said bitterly.

"You're cute naked," Dakota said, with honesty in her gaze. She was looking at his naked upper body with what looked like appreciation. "Can you blame me for wanting to see? Wouldn't you like to see Jesse all nudie like you are right now?" She let the silence hang, then looked down. "Too bad you don't feel the same way about me."

It was silent in the room for awhile while, each cousin staring down in the direction of his or her own privates, immersed in private thoughts. Suddenly Dakota looked up. "Enough of the pity party," she announced. "I'll get over it. But you have to pay for causing it."

"What?" Tommy said, confused.

"Aw, come on, you know how it works," Dakota said. "You're not that naïve! You blew me off, and that puts me down. Gabriel will know you blew me off, because he knows how I feel. You leave here not hot for me, and he'll know you rejected me. And then I'm less in his eyes. I've got to make up for that, and that means, you have to pay, and that means he has to see you pay."

"I don't get it," Tommy said, baffled.

"That's 'cause you're stupid," Dakota snapped back. "So I'll explain it in simple words. You owe me. You have to pay. You can't pay with money, so you have to do me a service, or pay with pain or humiliation. You've already done me a service, obviously. But Gabriel has to see you pay, and maybe Chad, too, so I keep my status in this family. And it's not like I wanted them to see me getting that - It's kind of personal and private."

"I didn't even see it," Tommy said. "You had the lights off."

"And I bet you'd have had your eyes shut if I had left the lights on," Dakota said. "So don't bullshit me, okay?

"Huh?" Tommy said, now completely mystified.

"Never mind," Dakota said, sighing. "I swear, you might be the densest boy ever. Even denser then my dear brother, who still thinks dorks are only for peeing, or being sucked by boys."

Tommy didn't know how to respond to that, so he didn't. After all, dicks were for peeing, mostly. And for pleasure, when you rubbed yours, or got someone to suck it for you. Or sunk it into the tight hotness of another boy's butt, as the excitement of what you were doing rose in you...

"Oh, sure, now you get hard," Dakota broke in. He realized she'd shifted position, and could see his dick now that it had risen on its own to where it was visible above his thigh. "Well, let's see, what should it be? I could just let Beth spank you bare butt with that stupid huge paddle she found - if I said I'd changed my mind when she came back, Gabriel would hear and know the power I've got with her as well as over you, and that might do."

Tommy's butt throbbed, and his fear rose. The paddling from Gabriel, with the sturdy paddle he'd used, and had ultimately broken over Tommy's butt, had been pure hell. A paddle a foot or more long, that you should stand up with and swing with both hands - what could Beth do with that? Even a couple of smacks from that would have him blubbering like a baby and begging Beth for respite. "Can't you do something else?" he asked. "Like, I could do something embarrassing in front of Gabriel. Like kiss him on the mouth or something." He didn't know where that had come from, it had just slipped out. He hadn't even thought about kissing before - he hadn't kissed Jesse, even, when they'd been messing around - they'd gone right after what each of them had wanted. But the thought made his hardening penis give a little jump for some reason. The idea of kissing another boy was kind of weird, but intriguing. He bet Gabriel's lips would be soft. His own lips weren't, he realized. They were dry, and crinkly, kind of.

"You got any Chapstick?" Tommy asked suddenly. He'd suddenly remembered that females like his mother and sister always had stuff like Chapstick.

Tommy opened his mouth and then closed it. What was she talking about now? Of course poop made him sick - didn't it make everyone sick? "Get over my knees," she ordered. "And keep your hands away from your butt."

"Why?" Tommy said.

"Why isn't the right answer," Dakota snapped. "The right answer is 'yes, ma'am.' Now get your butt over here."

"You said I was too torn up to spank," Tommy complained, slowly rising and walking to the side of the bed, his penis wobbling embarrassingly in front of him, still faintly orange. Dakota didn't answer, just pointed at her lap. Tommy settled on her. His penis was trapped against her leg, pushing on it like a hard lump under him, but she didn't seem to mind.

"Hands," Dakota snapped. "Get them away from your butt. Put them over your head or something." Tommy my awkwardly buried his face in his arms against the bed instead. It was comforting to do that, somehow, especially when you were over some female's lap, whether for examination or to have the living shit beaten out of your butt. He remembered when he'd actually had the living shit beat out of his butt, or close to it, He hadn't really shit himself, but that had been more a matter of a shortage of any shit inside him more than the of lack of the possibilityof doing it. Being paddled had been a nightmare, going over Gabriel's lap, in the yard, in the open, with the Girl Scouts and the elderly neighbors all watching. It had been unimaginably painful as well as deeply humiliating. He pictured himself in the back yard again, perhaps bent over and grasping his ankles, legs far apart so that his genitals showed from behind, Beth would make him do that. She'd make him spread his legs so far that his butt hole showed. And then she'd line the huge paddle up with his butt cheeks, tease him with the feeling of it against his vulnerable skin, maybe comment on how much it was going to hurt, and then prepare to swing with both hands. He shuddered.

"Steady there, stud," Dakota said. "Let's see if you're keeping yourself clean back there, or if you were lying to me about the possibility of skid marks on my sheets." She put her hands on his still sore butt cheeks. He kept his butt relaxed and tried not to flinch as Dakota pulled his buns far apart, presumably studying his butt crack and his asshole. "Not bad," she said. "Your brother was right - you are a clean butt fanatic. Of maybe Beth just burned any shit off of you that was there."

"I didn't go after this morning," Tommy replied. "And I got cleaned up afterward, remember?"

"Why?" Tommy asked, wishing she'd stop talking about poop. He hated thinking about poop, didn't like it on him, and certainly didn't like talking about it.

"Better be sure, it's going to matter," Dakota taunted.

"Why is it going to matter?" Tommy said to his folded arms.

"Answer the question, asshole," she snapped back. She let go of one bun and gave him a sharp little slap on his right cheek.

"I don't have to go," Tommy said.

"So there's nothing down there?" Dakota asked.

"No," Tommy said. "Can't we talk about something else?"

"You don't want to talk? Then let's act," Dakota said. "Hold still, I gotta spit in your hole." She pulled his buns apart again and leaned over him.

"Why?" Tommy asked again.

Dakota made a quite disgusting throat clearing sound, then spat into the center of his butt. He felt a puddle of drool start oozing down the incline of his pursed slit. Tommy shuddered. He didn't like people's spit on him, even down there. He didn't like anything on him down there.

"Because I'm putting this up your butt," Dakota said, holding up the Chapstick. "All the way up it. As far as I can push it. And you don't want me doing that without lubrication."

"WHAT!" Tommy exclaimed. His head flew off his arms and he twisted to look over his shoulder.

"It's this or your sister's paddle," Dakota said calmly. "If you don't settle down again, I'll assume you've made your choice. Besides, this can't be as bad as the carrot."

Tommy almost jumped up, then he remembered his image of Beth and the giant paddle. A Chapstick was pretty thin. He forced himself to stretch out again, burying his face so he didn't have to look. "Just get lots of spit on it," he begged. "And be gentle."

"I'll be as gentle as you were with my brother," Dakota said. Before the meaning of that could register with Tommy's brain, she had rolled the Chapstick in the wetness puddling in his asshole, and rammed it up his butt in one motion, following it in with her finger to be sure it was buried deeply. She'd almost gotten her second knuckle into him when he arched his back, twisting to look over his shoulder, while at the same time his butt clamped down like a vice on her finger as he sucked in a huge, startled breath.

"AHHHHHHHHHH!"" he squealed, his voice sounding more like a shrill girl's than his own. He pawed at her wrist, yanking her finger out of his butt. "AHHHHHHHHH! That HURTS! Get it out, get it out!" He leaped to his feet and arched his back, going onto his toes as he clenched his butt, trying to deal with the rectal pain she'd caused. Far from feeling little, the Chapstick tube felt bigger than the strange boy's penis had, and his rectum burned from being invaded so roughly.

"Oh, cut it out," Dakota said dismissively. "You've had bigger things that that up there. According to Gabriel, you've had his whole dick up there. It may be little, but it's bigger than a Chapstick. I wouldn't be surprised if you've had your own brother's up there, or your dorky friend's."

Tommy bit his lip, sucking air and quieting his bawling. He was embarrassing himself - it wasn't that bad, not after the initial burn of her violation of him had calmed down. Had it really felt like this to Gabriel when he'd entered the boy the first time? Or worse? Probably worse. His dick was bigger than a Chapstick. And in fact, where the Chapstick was now was starting to feel rather pleasant, kind of tingly. He took a few deep breaths. "You coulda warned me," he said after a minute. He'd forced his butt to relax, but his dick, though tired and sore, was harder than ever.

"Like you'd have stayed still if I'd warned you," Dakota said.

"How am I supposed to get it out again?" Tommy said after a moment.

"The usual way," she snickered. "You do know how to shit, don't you? But just one thing - Gabriel has to see. He has to know I put it in you, and he has to see it come out. And then you have to go ahead and use it - you can wash the outside off, first. But then you have to use it. That'll show him that you're under my control, if you'd do something like that."

Tommy actually took a step back. "Huh uh," he said, shaking his head. "No way." He remembered his brother straddling the patio drain, pooping in front of both family and neighbors. He remembered the brown mass opening Chad's hole until it protruded like a mouth, then thrusting outward, sagging, and falling mushily into the drain. He'd been repulsed by the whole process, and the way it had thoroughly humiliated Chad. "No way," he said again.

"Guess Beth had better warm up her batting arm," Dakota said smugly. She turned her back and headed to her bed.

Tommy pictured the scene in the back yard with him clutching his ankles again, this time with him sobbing and jerking and his butt covered with blisters and welts and Beth not stopping, just continuing to swing at his unprotected butt. "Okay," he said. "Okay, fine. I'll do it."

"And you'll let Gabriel watch?" she clarified.

"Okay, I'll let him watch," Tommy said. His disgusted expression told her she'd picked the right punishment. He headed toward her door.

"Just one more thing," Dakota said, stopping him. "One more little task, to show brother I'm in charge. Of you and him."

"What?" Tommy asked, pausing with his hand on the door.

"After you've gotten back the Chapstick and used it, you're going to lick his butt," Dakota said smugly. She'd seen Tommy's reaction to any connection between butt holes and mouths, and now she knew exactly how to get to him. "You're going to make him take his pants down, and bend over all the way, and then you're going to lick his butt crack, starting at his baby balls and licking all the way to the top of the crack. You'll do it twice. From all the way to the bottom to all the way to the top. You'll go right across his butt hole both times. I don't care if he smells, I don't care if he has shit on him, you'll lick his crack twice. And don't think you can avoid it -- I'll be checking with him later and ask him what you did."

Tommy's face betrayed his disgust. Lick Gabriel right across his butt hole? The memory of Chad's butt hole bulging, spreading, disgorging brown masses that piled on the grate between his legs and besmirched the skin between his legs came to Tommy unbidden, and almost make him gag. Put his tongue there? He remembered, suddenly, Chad putting an end to giving him blow jobs by licking Tommy's own butt hole, sickening Tommy so much he'd lost interest in punishing Chad that night, and hadn't been able to regain interest in having his own cock sucked for weeks afterward.

"Can't I do something else?" Tommy begged. "Look, I could suck him - you know, down there. He likes it when I suck him there. I could even lick his .. you know, the stuff underneath. But not his -" He paused, working his dry mouth. His dick had drooped as he'd grasped the enormity of her orders, but the Chapstick tube still felt huge inside him. "I don't think I could," he said more softly. "If he's dirty. Or if he even smells dirty. I think I'd barf."

"Better hope he's not dirty, then," Dakota said, smiling like the cat who swallowed the canary. "But hey, we all have to eat a little shit now and then. If you barf, you're cleaning it up."

"But...but..."

"Go," Dakota said. "Go, find Gabriel, take your Chapshit, and lick his butthole. Then we'll all know who's top dog around here. Otherwise, we'll have to tear your butt up to demonstrate it." Tommy, defeated, slumped toward the door. "Oh, and one more thing," she said as he touched the handle again. "I want you to introduce me to Wayne. Tomorrow. And make me sound good."

"Wayne?" Tommy said, surprised. "You're interested in Wayne? Nerdy, 4-eyed Wayne?"

"He's got a cute dork," Dakota said.

"It's bigger than Gabriel's," she retorted. "It's bigger than Chad's too. And what can I say - I like 'em pointy."

"Like Gabriel's?" Tommy snapped without thinking. "Is that what you want, to have sex with your brother?"

Tommy goggled, and she smiled cheerfully at him. "You're joking," he finally said. "You—and your brother—when you were little?" He shook his head. "You'd have only been 4 when he was 2. And he'd have been in diapers! You wouldn't..."

"You do a lot of stuff when you're little if you've seen your mother do it all the time," Dakota said even more lightly. "She had a lot of boyfriends, and they didn't always shut their doors. And the diapers don't matter if you've just given him a bath. And consider this - unlike clowns your age, toddlers will lick you anywhere you say they should, especially if you put sugar or maple sugar there. Now go find my brother," she said, waving at him airily.

Tommy, stunned, turned and went out the door and into the hall. Had she really sucked her brother's cock when she was just a preschooler? Seen her mother sucking some guy and copied her? A kid still in diapers, one whose genitals regularly got coated with piss and shit? Had she put syrup on her privates and convinced a toddler Gabriel to lick them off? Or was she just yanking his chain? Either way, he felt completely out of his depth around Dakota - she might be his age and size, but she was totally beyond him in sophistication, and she could manipulate him like a puppet-master. He turned his attention to the task ahead, and felt dread again. The pooping was bad enough - having to push and strain to force the tube out of him, while the younger boy watched. That would have bad enough. But what he had to do after that -- Please God, he said to himself. Please let him be clean back there! If you're there, if you still care about me after all the bad stuff I've done, please make it so that he's clean!