The Orphanage Boys Chapter 12
by Chadlad

copyright 2009 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 12: Twelfth Floor: Buckets

Sister Mary Catherine stopped beside Sam's platform and put down the bucket. Sam had been watching what had happened to Jake with progressively widening eyes. Now he blanched as Sister Mary Catherine threaded her fingers through his red hair and pulled his head back painfully, retrieving the dripping rag with the other hand.

"Hey!" he said. "Hey! You can't wash me with that! It's got his—his pee in it! Hey!" The last "Hey" was choked off as Sister Mary Catherine began roughly scrubbing Sam's face with the cold, soapy rag, wiping off snot and tears just as she had with Jake. Sam sputtered and protested throughout, trying to register his outrage with being washed with Jake's "pee water." The girls behind them giggled and chattered excitedly as Sister Mary Catherine gave Sam's face another going over than released his outraged, sputtering form.

Jake didn't even pay any attention to Sam's suffering. He could not get over the enormity of it all. He was naked from his waist to just above his knees, bent over a triangular cushion, his legs spread wide and tied down, his front half pulled low and his arms strapped to the platform where he was perched, his butt painted like a target with his butt hole (his anus, he corrected himself) a red painted bulls-eye. His butt stung and burned from where the vindictive girls behind him had gleefully shot it with a BB gun. His butt hole stung, too, the sting going up all the way inside his rectum, where one of the shots had finally stopped, only to be rudely pried out by Father McKenzie's finger. And now things have just gotten worse. Because his vulnerable, pubescent balls were now uncovered for the first time, cooling in the open air as the pee he had squirted over himself in fright dried. The protecting leather bag that Father McKenzie had thoughtfully bound around his genitals before the girls arrived was no more, having been removed at Sister Mary Catherine's orders. He was now truly butt and genital naked for the first time in front of the girls. Worse yet, he heard the click-clack of the BB gun behind him being cocked as the next girl prepared to take aim at his vulnerable anatomy.

His desperation gave him voice. "Please, Sister!" he wailed. "Please don't let them shoot me anymore! It hurts! I can't take it anymore! And I'm real sorry! Really! I'll never do it again! Please! And besides, it's not fair! Sam is still covered up, and I'm naked! And he was just as bad as me!"

"Ah, but you see lad, your partner in crime didn't wet all over himself like a rollicking big baby," Father McKenzie said reasonably. "Besides, lad, begging your pardon, but you really don't have anything for the girls to see, anyway." Behind him girls laughed, a soft, tinkling sound that would've been pleasant if Jake had been in any position except bent over naked with his butt and genitals on display.

"He does have a point, though, Father," Sister Mary Catherine said mildly, having motored back from scrubbing an indignant still sputtering Sam. "It is not fair that he be punished more vigorously than the other lad."

"Actually, sister, I believe it is the other lad who is threatened with more punishment than this one," Father McKenzie replied. "Wearing the leather protector, his private parts are still dangling in the line of fire, so to speak, while the uncovered lad's body has pulled his out of sight."

"Then we'll have to make them equal," Sister Mary Catherine said. "Remove the leather bag from the other one also."

"What?!" Sam squealed, his head snapping up. In a moment, Father McKenzie was at his side, already fumbling almost eagerly between his spread legs. "Wait a minute! That's not fair! I'm not the one who peed all over himself. I'm not the big baby—ahhhhh!" his statement ended in a squeal as blood flow returned to his genitals in a rush, and the full throb of his previously struck testicle hit him. Trying to clench his buns unsuccessfully, Sam's protests were cut off by incoherent moaning.

"There we are, all equal," Father McKenzie said, holding up the leather bag he'd just taken off of Sam. "And this lad's wee endowments have also pulled themselves up mostly out of sight, so no one should be offended by anyone's nasty male parts. Just let me move out of the way, and you girls may commence firing at will."

"Great job, stupid!" Sam yelled across at Jake. "Now we're both naked!"

Jake might have replied to that, but as luck, or good aim would have it, the very next shot hit him just at that point, and it hit his anus dead center, plowing on into his rectum almost an inch. Tensing every muscle in his body, Jake threw back his head and howled.

Coincidentally, the girl shooting at Sam, who had also been aiming for his red painted, tightly pursed orifice, missed that rather demanding target. Her shot went a bit low, managing to just catch a wrinkle of Sam's now totally exposed, tightly drawn up scrotum, and expanded its energy directly against the bottom of his right ball.

Sam squealed, squealed, and squealed again. His voice echoed off the barn, blending with Jake's howls. The girls paused in congratulating their fellows to listen to this verbal onslaught rewarding their efforts. "It's like coyotes," one girl finally exclaimed. "Like coyotes howling at the moon."

"Bet you I can make mine howl louder," the next girl said. "I'm going to get him right where it hurts the most!" She put the BB gun up to our shoulder, aimed as carefully as she could at the barely visible bulge between Jake's legs, and pulled the trigger. Jake's howls cut off abruptly as the BB plunked right into the base of his barely visible left ball. His body froze, and then he hunched over, vomiting onto the grass in front of his platform. Over and over again his stomach heaved as his violated, thrice struck left ball protested that supreme mistreatment. His retching dissolved into loud, uncontrollable bawling as he gave up, and surrendered his body to his punishment. I'm sorry God I'm sorry God I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry, he repeated over and over his head. Dimly, he was aware that Sam was bawling now too, although he could not know that was because Sam, also, had just received his very first butt hole shot right on the heels of being struck in his tightly pursed balls.

But time passes. Over the next few minutes, Jake was aware of a dozen other BBs striking his butt in various vulnerable places, but not, thank God, his butt hole or his balls. He was crying uncontrollably now, could not stop despite his awareness that he was embarrassing himself in front of all the girls. Just as many shots missed, but he wasn't even aware of the misses anymore. He wasn't aware of anything but the horrible overwhelming pain that dominated his scrotum, the searing heat in his rectum, and the awful bee sting sensation that sliced through him every time a BB struck his sore, unprotected butt.

Half an hour later, Jake was too weary even to cry loudly, and his voice was hoarse and raw. He sagged over the cushion, limp as a dish rag, his small chest heaving as he whimpered like a beaten animal. His butt was a mass of seething, unbearable bee stings, worse than the worst paddling he gotten up to this point. His butt hole, having been struck still once more and still bearing the two BB'S inside, had spasmed tightly shut in protest. And his balls...

Well, his balls had gotten off lightly, in that they were pulled so tightly to his body now that none of the girls had been able to hit that especially vulnerable spot since the third hit there, the one that had come just after his balls had been bared completely.

Sam had not been so lucky. In addition to being struck in the butt as many times as Jake had, Sam had been hit on the butt hole five times since the last time Jake had been struck there, three that bounced off the tight ring of muscle, and two that burrowed into his rectum. Worse yet, his bare balls, unfortunately for him squeezed backwards by his tight scrotum so they projected more between his legs than Jake's did, had been hit three more times since Jake's most recent strike in that delicate area. Sam, too, had vomited his guts up, bawled loudly until he'd run out of energy, and subsided to limp whimpering. Now neither boy even reacted to the soft whap of another BB cutting into each of their jutting, rounded boy-butts. Heads down, foreheads resting against the platform, they cried softly into the wood, their faces smeared with the snot and tears that had pooled there.

It was at this point the Sister Mary Catherine called a temporary halt to the process. "We're about at the half way point, girls," she announced with her usual loud, ponderous tones. "We must take a moment to make sure the boys have their full attention on the proceedings before we go on with the lesson." With that, she approached Jake with the bucket again.

Jake's slow-moving brain was just catching up to the horror of her initial statement "...about at the half way point," when she settled behind him. The half-way point? The half-way point?! That was only half of their penance? His butt was a mass of stings, feeling swollen and bumpy all over. His anus and rectum was afire with the shots that had invaded him. And his balls...

Well, his right ball wasn't so bad off. But it had picked up the ache of his left ball, somehow, and the left one itself had that deep, stomach churning throb that all boys are familiar with after landing on their bicycle cross bar or receiving a quick punch there from the local bully. The awful wrongness that radiated out from that small target to settle in the boy's entire lower abdomen. With great effort he lifted his head to look around with bleary eyes at the approaching sister...

And gasped as the ice-cold rag was applied, not to his face, but to his throbbing, stinging butt. Roughly Sister Mary Catherine scrubbed on the boy's butt, as if trying to wash the skin right off it. The ice-cold water, rather than soothing his stings and welts, awakened them to a fever pitch and Jake stiffened, clenching all his muscles but unable to withdraw his butt from the assault or even close it to protect his sore anus, where she was now concentrating her attention. Then her hand slipped between his legs and began assaulting his fear-shrunken genitals. He yelped in shock as she grasped his penis with icy, claw-like fingers and yanked it out with one hand by pinching the foreskin while she assaulted it with the wet, cold towel held in the other. He opened his mouth to squeal, and she shifted position, and suddenly the towel, the same towel that had been on his butt, rubbing his butt hole, was suddenly applied to his face. He tried to twist his head and she threaded her fingers into his brown hair, yanking his head back painfully so that she could scrub the snot and tears from his face.

And just as suddenly, she was gone, motoring like a battleship toward Sam, leaving Jake gasping and sputtering and reawakened. He had butt water on his face! He wanted to throw up! He fought the urge with great effort, then a loud noise to his right distracted him, and he turned his now clearer vision toward Sam.

Sister Mary Catherine was standing on Sam's far side, so his whole body was visible to Jake, and he watched, all his senses alert, every welt throbbing, as she scrubbed Sam's ass and he protested, trembling and yelping, at her enthusiasm. His protests grew as she reached between his legs with the towel and he let out a little shriek as she must have pinched his foreskin with the same iron grip she'd pinched Jake's still tingling, sensitive flap of skin. And that's when Jake realized that really, he was fortunate after all, and maybe God was listening to his prayers. Because Sister Mary Catherine had moved to Sam's face and was scrubbing it with the wet towel - the towel that had just been on Sam's butt, scrubbing his butt hole - the towel that had also just been on Jake's butt, scrubbing his almost identical butt hole. And he knew that, however much he'd been punished, Sam had been punished worse - at least when Jake had had his face washed, the towel had only been on his own butt.

Still a hundred BBs to go, Jake thought with desperation. Having his body washed with cold water had a remarkably mind-clearing effect, and everything now was standing out with sharp clarity. He could see every line of the weathered barn boards out in front of him. He could see BBs glinting in the grass around him, where they'd landed when they missed or after glancing off his butt. He could feel every welt on his butt, his butt hole, and his balls throbbing with each heart beat. He could feel the BBs still in his rectum, and the streaks of fire radiating from them to his anus. He could feel the needle tracks going deep into his buttocks, and the one that ran like a tunnel between his butt hole and balls. His anus and balls, he corrected himself absently. And he could feel the incredible wrongness radiating from his left ball, a wrongness that spread to the pit of his stomach and also throbbed with each heartbeat. He had to endure as much as he'd already endured yet again, but this time on a butt already covered with little welts, and with a left ball that was already throbbing blackly, and a rectum that was aching with its own multiple invasions. He dreaded Father McKenzie's inevitable finger forcing its way in there to drag the BBs out. He still couldn't get over the idea of people putting things in his anus. First it had been the big nozzles for the cleansing enemas of the day before, then Sister Mary Catherine's oddly stimulating plunge of her fingers in there, the stroking of that previously unknown place inside him that had had such surprising results, and then Father McKenzie's "treatment" today that had been oh, so much better because of the priest's comforting, magical hand on his penis at the same time. And now the outrage of having BBs - BBs! Shot into his butt hole, invading his rectum, and the certain knowledge that they were going to be dragged out again by the obliging priest.

He tried to picture sticking his finger into some kid's butt hole, like the priest had done. Butt hole was the right word, this time, he thought to himself. It was the hole itself he was thinking about this time, not the muscle that opened and closed the hole. He wondered what it felt like in there. Hot? Squishy? Slimy? He couldn't quite picture it, and for a moment he had the powerful urge to digitally explore himself, just reach back there and scoop the offending BBs out of his own bottom. After all, his finger was smaller than the priest's, and he'd be careful not to hurt himself by being too fast or rough.

But that notion was dismissed immediately - his hands were tied with his body in the bent over position, and he couldn't move more than to shudder and tremble, something he'd been doing for some time and was still doing, to his embarrassment. He flexed his fingers and felt the tension in them, realized he'd been clawing at the platform during the last barrage of shots striking his unprotected flesh. Oh, how he wished they'd get on with it!

And then he got what he'd wished for again, and he regretted it instantly. Sister Mary Catherine had gone out of sight behind him and Sam, and her voice rang out. "It's quite clear that the BBs aren't doing any significant damage to either of these two perverted little brats," she announced. "In order to make sure the lesson holds," she went on, "I'm moving you girls 5 feet closer for the second half."

"Good," Sister Mary Catherine said calmly. "But it must hurt more. You both should still be crying hysterically by this point, not squatting there calmly like you're having the time of your lives playing leap-frog. Right up here, girls. We'll see if we can make them feel it from this distance."

Seconds later, without warning, flame shot through Jake's right bun as a BB hit it squarely in the middle, making him yelp in surprise. The sting was twice what it had been, at least! Across from him, Sam yelped, too, the girls clearly having an easier time hitting their targets from only 15 feet away. Jake sucked on his lower lip, trying to block his embarrassing whimpers. If the other shots had been bee stings, this was a monster bee, a queen bee, a bee to end all bees, with a stinger as long as its body. Behind him, the BB gun clicked and clacked, and then, what seemed too soon, another giant bee sting bloomed on his left buttock, almost in the center, making both sides of his butt throb in rhythm with identical, sharp, fresh stings adding to the many previous ones. Jake yelped again, despite himself, his body shaking from the assault. Moments later, Sam yelped even more loudly and began crying uncontrollably. That'll be me in a minute, the detached part of Jake's mind observed. I wonder where that hit him - had to be somewhere bad. The anus, maybe? Or his balls?

Eight nightmare shots later, every one of them hitting him in the butt, Jake, remarkably, was still not crying, although Sam continued to blubber to his right, each shot punctuated by a rise in his volume, then a gradual fall, then another rise as the next shot hit. It was almost that it hurt too much for Jake to cry -- each time he felt like he might just fall into sobbing, the next shot would hit, and he'd gasp and yelp, and then he'd be trying to catch his breath, and about the time he felt like dissolving into tears, the next shot would have every one of his muscles rigid and he'd be yelping too loud to cry again. Maybe I won't cry, the detached part of him thought, the part that wasn't connected to his anguished bottom. Maybe I'll just finish on out like this, yelping like he had with each blow of Sister Mary Catherine's paddle on his underpants clad butt. Maybe I'll make it...

And then, without warning, all coherent thought in Jake's brain ceased. For the first time that day, without warning, a shot plowed right into Jake's right testicle. A shot from much closer than before. A shot that didn't glance off, but stopped, firmly, caught in a wrinkle of his tight scrotum.

Jake's balls had long since pulled themselves as tightly to the boy's body as they could, his scrotum wrinkling into a flat patch against his crotch, trying to protect its contents from this unreasonable assault. But balls are balls, and they're, well, ball-shaped. So even though they were pulled tightly into his body, Jake was a thin boy, and there was no nest of fat for his vulnerable boy-organs to hide in, no place to go, really, against the taut muscles of his groin. So his balls bulged just a bit as seen from the rear between his widely spread legs, the small lumps barely visible as the skin sloped from the smoothness under his asshole to the tight scrotal patch with its slightly darker color. And the BB managed to catch in a scrotal wrinkle right over the bottom of his right testis, so it expended all its energy into the hard little orb.

Jake froze, his crying stilled abruptly. The his body began thrashing against his bonds, his hands scrabbling against the platform, his butt hole clenching, his thighs trembling, his back arched and his neck stretched. He tried to scream, but no sound came out, even as he tried again and again. Behind him, girls were congratulating the successful shot. "Good one, Doris!" one girl shouted. "You got him right in the bad place!" "That'll teach him!" another one snorted. "That's how you get boys' attention - you go right for the spot!"

"You're amazing," a third girl said admiringly. "I mean, to hit him there! I don't know how you did it. It's so- so- so tiny!"

Jake would have been mortified hearing his prized balls called "tiny" if he had been aware, but his mind was buried in an avalanche of pain and hurt. Oh, my balls, my balls, my balls! his brain shrieked. I can't stand it.

But of course he did stand it. The girls behind him watched as he fought and twitched and trembled. And then, shocking everyone, a stream of liquid dribbled out of his button penis tip, out of sight against his groin, and soaked into his bunched pants and underpants directly below, darkening the fabric.

Giggles and excited chattering ensued as the girls commented on Jake's embarrassing performance. Jake, finally catching his breath enough to vocalize, collapsed against the pillow and stopped fighting, moaning loudly with each breath as his stomach churned. Dimly, he was aware that his pants were wet next to his knees - he must have wet himself. Had it been possible to die of embarrassment, he would have at that moment. But he hadn't died of pain, had he, so embarrassment probably wouldn't do the trick, either.

The lesson went on, and he and Sam received more unbearably painful shots to the butt for some time, most girls hitting their closer target, now, and the shots feeling like they were going ten times as fast to the two now loudly crying boys. Both boys' butts were a mass of red welts, now, dozens of shots having hit their marks all over the boys' butts. (You would have thought the shots would concentrate more toward the center of the targets, their bare, vulnerable anuses, but the girls weren't, after all, that good at shooting). In fact, their anuses and scrota and even the skin between their legs was largely spared after the shot that had hit Jake. It may have been that fact that prompted what Sister Mary Catherine did next.

In a pause that barely registered with the sobbing Jake and Sam, she announced, loudly, "We have just enough BBs for each of you girls to have one more turn. I think, just to cap off the lesson, we will be moving somewhat closer yet for this one."

"Um, Sister?" Father McKenzie said. "I'm not sure that such a move is wise. I'm concerned about anal damage from that distance. And there's some chance a BB might penetrate the skin from that range. And if a BB were to strike the boy's more intimate parts..."

"Poppycock!" Sister Mary Catherine said. "Even from here, the BBs are hardly stinging the boys! I want this lesson to sink in to the very loins that are the source of all the trouble!"

"I can't let you do this," Father McKenzie said. "If they should sustain testicular damage..."

"I understand just how much you care for the boys' well being," Sister Mary Catherine said icily. "I care for their well-being, too, and for the well-being of their souls much more than their bodies. But we could take it to Mother Superior. While we're there, we could talk about some of my other concerns for the boys - like my concerns about other treatments that they might be getting - treatments that might not stand up to much scrutiny, either, if you catch my drift."

"Oh, I very much get your drift, Sister," Father McKenzie replied, and there was an icy edge to his voice. "But let's be clear that, if the skin is broken, any responsibility here is yours," Father McKenzie said.

"I'm quite clear on that issue, Father," Sister Mary Catherine said. "And I'm sure you understand me clearly as well."

There was a pause. "Girls, move to this spot," she said after a moment.

Jake was aware that the shots had stopped, but none of this conversation registered with him. In fact, nothing but pain and the need to sob like a baby registered with him until the first shot struck.

Each boy had more than a dozen girls behind him. And the girls had only one target in mind, now - everyone wanted to hit one of two places - the boys' now welted assholes, or the barely visible lumps protruding from the edge of each of their wrinkled, also welted scrota.

And then the real nightmare for both boys began. In quick succession, shot after shot bounced off their respective perineums, struck the corrugated edge of their buttholes, or skidded along the underside of their small scrota. Jake's cries became anguished squeals as each girl tried to outdo the previous one. Across from him, Sam was squealing his own agony.

Right in the middle of the barrage, a BB buried itself in his asshole from only 10 feet away, going in a good 2 inches this time and leaving a hot streak of fire behind it. What seemed like seconds later, a BB glanced off the side of his tortured left ball, driving all the wind out of Jake. And then, immediately afterward, a skittering BB slid right down the middle of his scrotum, striking the underside of his barely protruding little penis. And Jake screamed as the tip of his beloved little organ flamed with white hot fire.

Next to him, Sam was having similar troubles. In his case, though, his genitals were spared - instead, with unerring accuracy, 5 girls in a row managed to hit and penetrate his swollen, vulnerably anal slit, streaks of fire in his rectum overwhelming his senses. He screamed, too, screamed until he was out of breath and couldn't scream anymore. Then he panted, hoarsely, as the remaining shots peppered his buttocks right near his hole. Jake kept screaming through these final shots and afterward, his final penance striking mostly his inner butt cheeks but not anything more vulnerable than that. And then it was over.

Dimly, Sam became aware that the shooting had stopped, though everywhere between his waist and his thighs was a mass of pain. Somewhere along that last barrage, like Jake, he'd wet himself, and he could feel the dampness cooling against this legs just above the knee, where his pants were soaked. It was over! They were done! He tried to stop his crying but couldn't, and long minutes wore on, minutes of chattering girls jeering at them for being "babies," for crying and wetting themselves and for having the temerity to even think they could look at the girls naked. Girls commenting on the tiny size of their genitals, so tiny that "You can't even see anything," and at the redness and soreness of their butts and at the ugliness of their butt holes, although the girls didn't say butt holes, but just talked about "the bad place." And then, suddenly, Sister Mary Catherine had Sam gripped tightly around the middle by one hand, and was rubbing his butt painfully with the other, rubbing the welts and blisters made by the BBs roughly as she could, bringing renewed tears to his eyes.

"You remember this, boy," she said threateningly through gritted teeth as she made Sam's butt squeal with agony as she massaged every one of his painful welts. "You remember this the next time you start having perverted thoughts!"

And then she left, crossing to Jake to massage him into renewed crying while muttering the same threats.

But worse was yet to come. Leaving Jake sobbing from the renewed pain she'd reawakened in his butt, she moved to the center behind the boys. "All right, girls," she announced loudly. "Line up behind your respective targets. There was a scrambling and a mass of giggling and whispering behind both boys, as the girls closed the short distance between them and the exposed boys, girls shifting to get a better view of their hindquarters, now that they were closer, and jockeying to catch a view between their legs without attracting Sister Mary Catherine's attention.

"Show some order, girls," Sister Mary Catherine chided. "This isn't a country bazaar. Sort yourselves out from shortest to tallest."

There was more scrambling behind the boys. Jake and Sam both fought to get their crying under control again after the torture of having Sister Mary Catherine rub their welts as hard as she could. They'd managed to quiet down to whimpering by the time the sister spoke again.

"Now I want you girls to see just how hot and painful these boy's bottoms are, so I'm going to give each of you a chance to feel their buttocks. I especially want you to note how raised each welt is, and how hot and uncomfortable the boys are. You can press as hard as you want on them—I want this to be an uncomfortable experience for them, and perverted little pigs like these two can all too easily find pleasure in a female touch. So push hard as you feel - even pinch a welt or two if you like. But don't get carried away. And don't let your hands stray anywhere else - I have a fine paddle with holes in it I'll use on the bare bottom of any girl who forgets herself!"

She moved to the center, between the two boys, just in Jake's vision if he turned his head, crossing her arms. "You may begin," she said.

A soft, small hand tentatively touched the outer edge of Jake's butt cheek, tracing the bumpy surface. "It's so hot!" a sweet, high-pitched little girl voice piped. "I didn't know it would be this hot!"

"Don't be gentle, Sister Mary Catherine chided. Across the way, Sam gasped and whimpered more loudly as the little girl behind him proved she wasn't being gentle at all. Behind Jake, the hand pressed harder, but not much harder, tracing more of his welts, then moving to the other buttock and teasing the welts there. It didn't feel good, but it didn't hurt that much, not compared to what Sister Mary Catherine had done to him. The girl stayed away from Jake's ass crack, continuing to explore the outer edges of his butt until Sister Mary Catherine spoke up.

"Next!" she said. "Form a line facing your target on this other side when you're done," she added. The girl passed by Jake and stood in front of him, then leaned down to stare in his face and watch his reaction as the next girl stepped up and began exploring Jake's bare butt, pushing harder than the first girl and making him wince. The girl in front of him nodded in apparent satisfaction as he grimaced.

"You boys were bad to try to see us naked," she said. "Boys shouldn't see girls naked, ever. God said so," she added. "You're bad." She continued to stare in his face, and when he moved his head to escape her stare, she moved with him. Across the way, Sam yelped loudly.

"Don't!" he gasped. "Stop!"

"Is their a problem, Mary Beth?" Sister Mary Catherine said, gathering steam and motoring toward Sam.

"I was just pinching the welts to see how much they hurt," Mary Beth said sweetly."

"She pinches too hard!" Sam protested. Sister Mary Catherine cruised to a stop in front of him, lifting his face to hers by grabbing his red hair and yanking.

"You keep still!" she said to him. "You deserve whatever these girls care to give you, and more." She shifted to look at Sam's butt closely. "Watch the fingernails," she said to Mary Beth. "Use fingertips only if you're pinching. That goes for all of you," she said, glaring at the line behind Sam.

With all the attention on Sam, the girl behind Jake, watching carefully lest the sister's eyes shift back, quickly shifter her hand, her palm diving between his legs and cupping his genitals. Swiftly, she found and grasped the shrunken shaft of his penis, brushing it with her fingers and making it jump. She let her fingers trace it back and forth several more times before extracting her hand again so that it was innocently probing Jake's butt again when Sister Mary Catherine suddenly turned her way.

"Next!" Mary Catherine called out. The girl gave one of the welts on Jake's butt a painful squeeze and moved to join the girl in front of him. Another feminine hand gripped his butt and began exploring the welts.

"God, you've got a little one!" the girl whispered in Jake's face. "I didn't think any boy's was that tiny!" She smiled at him smugly. "May you should shower with us girls - you're almost a girl yourself."

Jake, his eyes averted from her even though she had her face right in his, blushed, then yelped again as the girl behind him gripped a welt and twisted it. Seconds later, her fingers shifted, moving down his butt crack and tracing around his butt hole, irritating the welts on that tight muscle. "Look," the girl probing him said to the other girls. "Look how it moves when I poke it!"

Jake blushed again as he realized his anus, of its own accord, was writhing and clenching with her poking, putting on a show for the girls behind him that they appeared to find hilarious. Worse, the stroking of his penis by the previous girl had changed it, he could tell. It felt fuller, more alive, and, with growing horror, he recognized the familiar feeling. The familiar, throbbing, rather pleasant feeling. A feeling definitely not welcome now. Just when he thought it couldn't get worse, Jake realized, to his dread, he was quickly growing a hard on.