The Orphanage Boys Chapter 13

The Orphanage Boys Chapter 13
by Chadlad

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This story is intended for ADULTS ONLY It contains explicit depictions of sexual activity involving minors. If you are not of a legal age in your locality to view such material or if such material does not appeal to you, do not read further, and do not save this story.
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Chapter 13: Thirteenth floor: Bedding and Sleepwear

A hard on! Jake could feel it between his legs, although he couldn't move and couldn't see it. He'd been mortified when the girls had trotted in by twos and stood behind him, where they could see his target-painted butt, complete with red-painted butthole bull's eye. But at least his genitals had been covered with the leather sack. And then when the sack had been removed, he'd almost died of embarrassment. But it had become clear that the girls really couldn't see anything. His genitals had pulled up into his body out of fright, so his penis tip barely protruded and wasn't visible from behind, according to Sister Mary Catherine and the good Father McKenzie, and his scrotum was almost invisible as well, tucked up between his legs, his balls barely outlined. But still, he'd been naked, and they'd all seen, and he'd been embarrassed to the core when he hadn't been scared out of his mind about where the next BB was going to strike.

Now he realized he'd just scratched the surface of embarrassed. Because he was getting stiff down there, and with stiff came longer and pointier and much, much more visible.

The girls hadn't noticed it yet, he as far as he could tell. Because the girl touching him currently was simply rubbing his butt, hard enough to be painful and make him wince, but her hands were staying on his rounded cheeks, not traveling to the territory between them and certainly not straying down to the forbidden place between his legs. Maybe they wouldn't notice. Maybe they'd all finish and go away. Maybe....

"Hey, his thing is sticking out!" one of the girls behind Jake exclaimed loudly. "Sister, his thing is sticking out! His boy thing! Look, it's sticking right down between his legs!"

Sister Mary Catherine's head jerked around and she met Jake's eyes, read his condition in them without even having to deign a glance at his crotch, which she'd already made quite clear offended her eyes. She was up to speed in seconds and moored alongside Jake before he could blink. Her hand shot under his belly and groped his now fully extended penis, squeezing hard and painfully. His penis, now rock-like in a way only little boys ever get, responded by insolently swelling in her grip. Angered by that response, she gripped even harder, like she was trying to squeeze the blood right back out of the offending organ and back into his body. It felt like a vise was being shut on his penis from all sides, and Jake gasped in pain, but his penis throbbed insolently in response and swelled in her iron grip, fighting back. She redoubled her efforts, squeezing with all her considerable might, and the offending organ in her hand remained an iron rod with an insistent pulse. Enraged at what she saw as his refusal to surrender to her will, Sister Mary Catherine released the boy's genital member abruptly, the sudden move making it bounce against the pad under his stomach and remain pressed against it, throbbing, now fully visible to the girls behind, jostling for a close-up view. Sister Mary Catherine ignored them. She moved silently until she was standing across from the boy's flushed face, his eyes following her like a trapped rat watches a cat. She slowly, deliberately reached into the voluminous side pocket of her habit, and then withdrew a short, thin device, which she held in front of Jake's face.

"I know how to deal with recalcitrant, perverted delinquents like you, young man! This, you impertinent brat, is a paddle I had especially made for unrepentant, sex-crazed boys like you. You'll notice it's shorter than paddles for your bottom, and thinner. This paddle is for between your legs, to deal with the disgusting urges you boys get." Sister Mary Catherine glared at Jake, her eyes boring into him. "I normally only have to use it on chronic Onanists and older boys who give in to their lusts and assault each other or our innocent girls with their perverted lusts, but it can be used on precocious brats like yourself as well. And it will if you don't stop this wanton perversity this instant. I'm going to give you exactly one minute to make that disgusting, perverted growth of your repulsive male parts go way. If you do not, at the end of the minute, I will give you a strong blow with this on the structures directly between your legs. I will then wait another minute, and if you're still in that disgusting state, you'll receive another blow to your sickening, offensive anantomy. I will continue this procedure until you are a small and soft and innocent little boy down there again and not this perverted whore's son."

Fear shot through Jake, fear like that he'd felt the first time he'd bent over the desk to be paddled by Sister Mary Catherine, fear like he'd felt when bending over to be spanked bare by her as well, fear like he'd felt when the enema nozzle was going in, and when he was being taken to be slippered by Flip, and like the fear he'd felt when the BB guns were showed to them and the plan to shoot at their butts and privates was outlined. Even through her convoluted language, he knew what he was facing. She was going to hit him on the balls! His bladder gave up immediately, shamefully dribbling out its meager contents as his penis immediately began shrinking from fear again, dribbling into his pants and wetting them anew. The watching girls began giggling again, watching him pee close up this time, some of them actually able to see the pointed tip of his now drooping organ, able to watch the pee dribble out of it, not the powerful, manly stream of the proud little boy, but the shameful, embarrassed dribble of a defeated, miserable, frightened male creature, the embarrassing dribble of the whipped dog. Various verbal expressions of delight and disgust from the girls accompanied his shameful loss of bladder control, and Jake knew that word of his utter humiliation would be passed to everyone in the orphanage before suppertime.

But at least Sister Mary Catherine was satisfied with the rapid droop of his organ, and, after groping him again and squeezing his now soft and defenseless penis painfully enough to make him gasp and bite his lip to keep from crying out, she put her paddle away. The girls on his side went back to feeling Jake's butt (The young girl feeling Sam's had taken the opportunity of the distraction to extensively handle his genitals, probing his balls. She'd also tried,unsuccessfully, to coax his shrunken penis to come out and play, but Sam, observing the threat to Jake's boyhood, had become so frightened his body refused to respond to her quite energetic overtures, and she had to give up.) As the girls went back to taking their turns feeling the buttocks of the boys, they commented on the heat and bumpiness of the soft skin, pressing hard, pinching welts, and, when Sister Mary Catherine wasn't looking closely, letting their hands stray bravely to violated, swollen anuses, the welted skin between each boy's butt hole and balls, even brushing tight scrota. None, though dared slip their hands underneath, to graze shrunken, flaccid penises, and many of the girls were disappointed at that.

It was a nightmare that had Jake blushing continuously between gasps and wincing. One girl even managed to slip a finger knuckle deep into his butt hole, a finger she then threatened to touch other girls with each time Sister Mary Catherine had her back turned. Across the way, Sam's yelps, gasps, and indignant cries revealed he, too was suffering the same humiliations that Jake was experiencing.

The lines of girls seemed to go on and on. And it wasn't like the touches were soothing. True, their hands were soft and small and feminine, and the places they were touching were intimate. But both boys' butts were seriously abused by this point - dusky red and sore all over from being severely spanked and paddled, bruised from the paddle and the slipper and welted from the sharp sting of the BBs. Their butt holes were swollen, and their rectums burned and the BBs still lodged in those tight, warm places felt like giant ball bearings. Their balls ached with the fierce, dull wrongness that blows to those sensitive organs always caused for hours afterward. And the girls didn't just gently feel their butts - they prodded, they squeezed, and worst of all, they pinched—pinched the bulging little welts the BBs had made, pinched the surface of the tightly wrinkled scrota, even pinched the bottom edge of small testicle once in Jake's case. And there was nothing to do but take it, and try not to yelp embarrassingly each time the pain was reawakened from dozens of shore spots.

And then, suddenly, there was no hand on Jake's butt, and the girls were lining up in twos. Without so much as a parting word, Sister Mary Catherine motored forth, commanding, "Come on, girls, our jobs are done here," and the girls followed, chattering like Girl Scouts returning from a picnic, some casting glances over their shoulders at the still bound boys on the platforms, giggling as they recounted various parts of the experience.

And then they and the priest were alone, and Father McKenzie was unbuckling the straps around each of Jake's arms and the straps from around his back and waist.

"I'm not releasing your legs yet," he said to Jake, turning to cross to Sam and release his arms as well. "You'll need to sit up a minute and let the blood circulate first. You'd fall off if I let you loose all at once," he called over his shoulder to Jake.

Jake almost fainted as he tried to straighten up onto his knees, seeing black spots as the blood raced away from his head. His ass shrieked in protest at moving, and a movement to sit back on his haunches was quickly aborted as pain shot through his tortured butt. He winced and rubbed his wrists and arms as blood flow returned fully to them again. He looked down at himself, noticing the moistness still on the tip of his penis and the shameful wetness darkening his pants and underpants where they stretched between his thighs, evidence of his juvenile loss of bladder control during his punishment. Across the way, Sam had foregone rubbing his hands and arms, and was gingerly cupping his buns with both hands, shuddering as he did so, his little penis waggling comically and its movements being appreciated by a watching Father McKenzie.

Jake and Sam blinked at the world from an upright angle, Sam uncupping one bun to brush at teary, puffy eyes, Jake working up the courage to explore his own sore ass with one hand and wincing at the size and sensitivity of the welts that bumped up all over the surface. Father McKenzie removed the triangle cushion from Sam's platform,crossed and removed Jake's as well, then stood back by the barn watching the two. They were so adorable with their teary faces, snot pooling on upper lips and running down, wriggling their wrists and flexing arms and gingerly exploring ravaged bottoms, totally unaware of the spectacle they made with their little genitals hanging bare under short shirts and over pants pulled to their knees. Pants soaked with their own pee as they'd lost control at the end. Little pointed penises just barely protruding over balls pulled into a tight, corrugated patch, pulled tight but still not protected from the onslaught they'd received. One had to beware angering the females, no doubt about it, the Father thought to himself. Those girls were angry at being spied upon, and they'd taken great joy causing the damage they'd done to both boys' hindquarters. Odd, really, that girls were so sensitive to being seen in the buff. It wasn't like most of them had anything to see. Most of these had barely budding breasts if they showed any development at all, and they were hairless and smooth between their legs yet, a barely visible, demure slit all that they could offer these boys' questing eyes. And yet they were enraged that someone might see their meager attributes. He knew the type - Catholic girls raised in some artificial world where people had pancakes for breakfast and everyone talked about butterflies and rainbows, nobody had sexual organs or every used a bathroom, and people didn't fuck to make new people, let alone just for the sheer animal pleasure of it.

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Not that he was that familiar with the process of making new people - he'd never even hugged and kissed a girl lustfully, let alone had sex with one. At first he'd been young and there'd been no opportunities in his cloistered existence to even meet a female. And before he knew it, he was a priest, a priest surrounded by randy, willing partners with genitals patterned after his own, and the only kind of sex he knew or was interested in involved mouths and butt holes, not the mysterious, ragged, untidy openings that females sported.

But he didn't miss what he'd never had. Because here was a sight beautiful enough, in his eyes, to convert any man to his way of life. He stood there, drinking in the sight of the boys on the platforms with their legs still bound widely apart, so their little scrota bulged cutely between their legs, their little shrunken penises cutely contrasting - the one on his right so short it pointed straight out even though flaccid, the one on the right dangling cutely, but not long enough to clear the bottom of the little scrotum. Well, time to get on with it. He crossed to Jake and began undoing the straps holding down his legs. "Now lean on me, boy," he said as he undid the last leather strip. "I'll ease you to the ground and put you on your side for now - you won't be sitting on those backsides for a bit." He hefted Jake off the platform by grasping his middle, letting his hand slip carelessly over the boy's genitals as he seized him and feeling his own member respond to the touch. Jake winced and yelped in pain as he tried to straighten his legs, and he gave up and lay on his side on the ground, whimpering, with his legs still bent at the knees. Father McKenzie crossed over to get Sam down, while Jake tried to straighten in legs gradually and gasped at the pain he felt every time he tried to move his lower half, his hands hovering over a butt too sensitive to touch. Gingerly, let his fingers brush the bumpy, red welts the BBs had made. His butt felt strange - it was a mass of big bumps that throbbed and hurt, and it was blazing hot to the touch and covered with red blotches over the residual almost deep purple from the repeated spankings of the least few days. God, this escalator thing was torture. Would his butt ever be allowed to heal again?

Across the way, Sam yelped loudly as he was lifted by the father by a grip around his stomach and just above his knees and packed over by Jake. He was placed on his side on the ground, Father McKenzie placing them close, facing each other. For awhile, they were each occupied with exploring their butts with their hands and wincing. Then Sam reached for his own scrotum and pulled it up, trying to see the damage the BBs had caused the back part of it, and trying to see the spot where the shot had gone in under his skin and was still causing him pain. Father McKenzie frowned. "I'm sure the dear sister warned you boys about touching yourselves for pleasure," he said.

Sam dropped his genitals like they'd burned him, his face registering fear. Father McKenzie smiled. "Oh, don't worry - I won't tell her," he said. "We boys have to stick up for each other when we can. And your penance is over for the day - you're not going anywhere, except the infirmary. Now come on, lads - you're going to have to get on your feet and walk there - I'm not going to carry you. I'm afraid it's going to be a bit painful to walk for a bit, but it's not that far. You're going to have take off those pants and underpants, though - you're not going to want the acid of urine against your skin in your current condition." He gently pulled the wet pants off of both Jake and Sam, easing them over boy boys' shoes so they were now naked from the waist down. Then he pulled each boy up, one at a time, as they moaned and panted at the pain in their butts as they got to their feet. To each boy's shame, they were made to hold their own folded, soiled pants and underpants. The cloth felt clammy and smelled strongly of urine. With Father McKenzie urging them on, Sam and Jake began hobbling painfully back around the barn to the compound. Even through their pain, both boys were aware they were naked from the waist down, with genitals fully on display should they encounter anyone. True, the shamefully wet clothing they were carrying were more or less covering their small packages, but they didn't dare hold the clothing against their genitals for fear of being accused of touching themselves, so from the right angles every part of their privates could be seen if anyone cared to. But they ran across no one all the way back to the priest's study. "We'll just stop here for some supplies, then we'll go right over to the infirmary," Father McKenzie announced. He paused at the step, then suddenly looked to his right, his expression changing.

"Ah, Mother Superior," he intoned smoothly, as if she was just the person he'd been looking for. "What can we lowly males do for you today?"

Mother Superior, a thin, wiry woman who usually had a disapproving look on her wrinkled face, strode up, her speed and long stride suggesting no need for the cane she pressed against the ground with each step. Stopping in front of the boys, she glared at each of them with a look that would have peeled paint from the walls. "I assume these are the Godless sons of whores who I caught climbing through the bushes trying to spy on our innocent and virginal young girls when they were naked to the Lord," she intoned in a disapproving voice."

"Yes, Ma'am," Father McKenzie said quickly. "This one is Jacob, and this one...."

"I don't care if their names are Frick and Frack, or Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum," she snapped. "To me they're just perverted, sex-crazed, disgusting examples of the scum of the earth. Even the best boy is a depraved mass of unseemly urges, and these two, given their origins, are far from the best boys! Stand tall, you two! Let me look at you!"

She poked Sam in the shoulder with her cane, prodding him to stand erect rather than hunching over his bundle of shamefully wet clothing. Next to him, Jake snapped to attention as well. The old woman walked around them in a circle, her eyes taking in their welted bottoms as she circled. "And did they take their penance well, Father?" she asked sharply as she circled back around the front. "Were there tears?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Father McKenzie said. "They cried their wee eyes you - you can see for yourself how puffy they still are. And their bottoms will be painful for quite some time - no sitting for these two for at least a day, I'm guessing - I'm ordering bed rest for both of them all day tomorrow."

"Hrummph," the old nun said. She moved her cane to lift the bottom of Sam's clothing pile, glaring at his exposed genitals. Without warning, she swung the cane up and out, sending Sam's wet pants and underpants flying into the dust. Moments later, Jake's clothing suffered a similar fate.

"Hands at your sides! Stand at attention!" she ordered. The two boys, shocked by her sudden orders, snapped to attention, straightening their backs and looking at her with fear, their hands twitching at their sides. She stared openly at their now exposed genitalia. "Hrummph," she said again. Slowly, deliberately, she raised the tip of the cane until it was just under Sam's dangling, pointed-tip little cock, then lifted the soft, fleshy member with the tip until she could press it against his lower belly with the cane tip, squishing it flat. She glared at his tight ball sack and its clearly outlined little contents. She then let his penis flop back down again and slid the cane tip between his sack and his thigh, pushing it to one side and watching the contents move as she did. Snapping the cane down again, she moved in front of Jake and performed the same maneuver. "Hrummph," she said again. She glared at Father McKenzie. "Are they fertile?" she asked. "I assume you checked. Sister Mary Catherine reported to me last night that they aren't, but I know you have means that are, well, shall we say 'more persuasive of performance?'"

Father McKenzie flushed slightly. "They're not fertile yet," he said.

"But they are functional, correct?" she continued. "So they could pose a danger to my girls."

Father McKenzie flushed at bit more. "Yes, Mother Superior," he said after a pause. "Their equipment functions normally, in my estimation."

She glared at the clothing in the dirt. "And I suppose you two disgusting brats expect my girls to wash the clothing you soiled like poorly trained babes." Just as many of the older teens worked the farm, a number of the older girls worked the laundry, presoaking and scrubbing stains, and feeding load after load of children's clothing, diapers, and linens through the wringer washers in the washrooms and hanging them on long clotheslines outside.

Jake looked at Sam and Sam at Jake, then both looked down at their pants and underpants, now not only pee-soaked but coated with dust.

"Well?" Mother Superior prompted.

"I'm sorry," Jake said. "I didn't mean to .... it just came out, and I couldn't stop it. It hurt so bad...."

"No excuses!" Mother Superior said, cracking the ground with her cane. "You two will learn to clean up your own messes! Now pick those up and come with me!"

Jake looked at Father McKenzie, who shrugged and looked at his soiled pants and underpants on the ground. Slowly, wincing as bending over made his butt throb horribly, he retrieved the cold, wet clothing from the ground, holding it with as little contact as possible out away from his body. After a pause, Sam did the same, only he yelped openly in pain as bending stretched his abused butt.

"Now follow me," Mother Superior said. "I'll send them back to you when I'm done with them," she said to the priest. He gave the boys an apologetic look and turned to open his study door. Jake and Sam set off in the direction she'd indicated with her cane, down a path that led toward the orphanage proper. Anxiety began rising in both boys as they moved toward the buildings. After all, they were both naked from the waist down, and the thought of walking onto the playground and across it was unthinkable in their state. But then Mother Superior prodded Jake's right bun with the tip of her cane hard enough to make his yelp and pointed down a side path that wound beside a little hill, and in moments they'd entered a small copse of trees through which a small stream ran. "You will wash those soiled clothes in the stream," she ordered. "Take your shoes and socks off and leave them here on the bank, then you can walk into the stream and scrub them against the rocks. Keep your bottoms out of the water - I don't want any infections of those open welts delaying your punishments down the road."

Jake and Sam did as they were told with their socks and shoes, then waded into cold water to the indicated rocks and got onto their knees, bending down to dip their clothes in the icy stream. Mother Superior moved to a large rock and settled on it, her eyes watching their tender backsides as they leaned into the stream to wet and wring the clothes at her instruction. She had seen boys with bottoms beaten as severely or more severely than this before, of course, but they were usually older boys, fornicators, mostly. These two, by all accounts, weren't fornicators yet, and she had the opportunity to test her belief that such behavior might be nipped in the bud if caught soon enough. Seeing these two in the tree excitedly straining for a glimpse of the nakedness of the girls in the shower two days ago had given her a chance to put her theory to the test. She'd come down on the two of them hard already, and they would experience harder before she was done. And then they'd see - see if the boys could be diverted from that ungodly path that so many of the boys in the orphanage followed, a path that involved having nothing but fornication and pleasure-seeking

"Beat them against the rocks, then wring them and rinse them in the water!" she commanded. "Then do it again. Keep doing it until I'm satisfied. In front of her, the boys worked diligently. She almost felt pity for them. Their bottoms were indeed sorely abused. They two were currently facing directly away from her, into the stream, so she had a fine view of their entire hindquarters as they leaned over, their knees spaced apart to support them. They'd taken some fine hits in the cleft between their muscular butt cheeks, and both boys had several welts on the anal muscle itself, clear evidence that they probably still were carrying BBs inside that tight external slit. Each had a needle track below their anuses and above their scrota, evidence that Father McKenzie had inoculated these two that morning. She knew perfectly well that there was no medical need to inoculate the boys in that tender spot, but she'd approved each time he'd chose that course in the past, and she approved it now, in the case of these two. Make them hurt down there - it would keep their perverseness down a bit, at least while it was healing.

A noise behind her made her turn around. Two girls from the class above these two were approaching, a smaller boy a year younger than these two sandwiched between them. The girls had that sassy, superior look girls get when playing tattle-tale, the look that said, "Some boy's getting punished because of me, and I get to watch." She'd sported that look many times herself as a young girl and a teenager - she'd rather enjoyed catching her cousins and classmates and brothers in forbidden acts and reporting them. It was during those formative years she'd discovered just how perverse boys were, as more than half the acts she'd reported were sexual - boys peeping at girls changing, boys trying to feel girls up, boys touching themselves down there. She'd reported on her brothers and cousins for that latter sin multiple times, bursting in on them after carefully waiting 5 minutes after they'd snuck off to some quiet location like their own bedrooms and then running to her mother or her aunts to report, gleefully, that Joey, or Tony, or Wally, or Floyd was touching himself in the bad place. Her Catholic female relatives abhorred the practice, and she'd had many a show of tearfully, begging boys bend over chairs or laps while their bare butts were openly spanked, or paddled, or whipped while they were admonished that self abuse would send them to hell. She'd loved watching, and they'd let her, perhaps as a lesson to the boys. The position they assumed for their punishments had strongly resembled the one these two boys were in, bent over, butts jutting, male genitals and anus shamefully exposed. It was as a girl that she'd discovered the fascinating variation in boy anatomy, as she realized that, just like noses or eyes or mouths, no two boys had identical parts between their legs, either. Some of her cousins had long, dangling penises, some sported short, fat stubs, and Cousin Vinnie's had been long and thick at the same time, with a prominent cap bulging at the end that looked like a hat. But then again, her little brother's had been so small that she'd not have believed he was capable of getting his hand on it if she hadn't seen him doing so with her own eyes. Likewise, their sacks varied, some being just tight wrinkled patches snug against the body with invisible contents, others bunched between their legs like something pasted on, or dangling obscenely and swaying as their butts were reddened. And even their orifices of elimination back there were widely different - some were tight slits, some bulging rings, some brown, some pink, some the same color as the rest of their sin. The variety had fascinated and intrigued her.

"There you are, Mother Superior," the girl in front said as she approached. Father McKenzie said you might have taken a walk by the stream. Sister Charity that we should bring Mikey to you for punishment...." the voice broke off as the speaker suddenly took in the tableau. Jake and Sam hearing the voice, looked over their shoulders in unison, like two birds startled while getting a drink. Both boys snapped upright, each reaching a hand back, palm facing the shore, trying to cover at least part of their butts. Sam's underpants slipped out of his grip and began floating downstream slowly.

"I didn't tell you two boys to stop!" Mother Superior snapped. "Get back to work, or I'll take my cane to your backsides!"

Jake hunkered over his genitals, turning so that his butt wasn't pointed so embarrassingly at the quartet on the bank. Sam, though, had to splash into the stream to chase his underpants, and the girls eyes followed his progress, getting glimpses of his bouncing penis as he chased his clothing, and a clear shot of all his parts as he bent to retrieve it. His face turned almost as red as his butt as he looked up and saw them staring at his genitals, and he tried to hurry back to the rocks, only to slip and fall backwards onto his sore butt in the water, his penis poking up at the sky as he ended flat on his back, his genitals fully exposed. Both girls began giggling, and the boy with them barked a sharp laugh.

Mother Superior's head darted around like a snake spying a rat in easy striking distance. "What have you done now, young man?" she said, pinning the boy with her eyes. His laughter died on his lips like plug had been pulled, and he looked at her with anxiety rapidly rising.

"I didn't do nothin'," he said. "These two just said I did!"

"Silence!" Mother Superior said, pointing at him with her cane. "You," she said, pointing it at the older girl. "What did he do?"

The girl's eyes were glued to Sam's exposed genitals, and she smiled and giggled again his thrashed his way back to his knees and tried to find a place hiding behind Jake where his body wasn't as visible. His shirt was now completely soaked.

"Sister - Sister Cha—Sister Charity said to bring him to you," the girl said, tearing her eyes away from the tantalizing glimpses of the two boys' private parts. That brown haired one was kind of cute, she realized. And his stuff wasn't all dangly like the red-head's.

"And why were you told to do that?" Mother Superior retorted when nothing further was added, as both girls were staring at semi-naked boys who were half-heartedly wringing their clothes while trying to keep the clothing between their genitals and the girls.

"He said a real bad thing to Sister Charity," the other girl said. "A real, real bad thing."

"Did not!" the boy said heatedly.

"Did so!" the first girl said. "She's the one that heard you, not me! How could I have made it up when she's the one that heard you!"

The boy looked down and began scuffing the dirt.

"I see," Mother Superior said. "And what was it you said, young man?" she asked, raising her cane until it was under the boy's chin, then using it to raise his eyes to hers. The boy said nothing.

"I asked you a question," the old woman said with a steely air. Behind her, momentarily forgotten, Jake and Sam had stopped working the clothes entirely and were just using them to block the view of their genitals. The boy still didn't reply. He cast his eyes down, refusing to meet the old woman's steely gaze. "Must I beat it out of you?" She used her chin to raise the boy's face higher, so that he was looking at the sky. There was a pause, the boy now trembling a bit but still saying nothing.

Mother Superior sighed. "You boys always make this so difficult," she said. "Don't you know God hears all, and that you have no secrets from him. Confession is your only salvation, boy." The boy still said nothing.

"I can tell you what he said," the girl in front said. "He said...."

"Silence!" Mother Superior ordered. The girl's mouth froze in mid-sentence. The old nun looked at the trembling boy. Then she turned her attention back to the girl who's spoken. "He must confess himself if he is to receive salvation. God must hear his confession from his own lips. If he does not admit to his sin, he cannot be saved."

She turned back to the boy and speared him with a steely gaze that would have frozen the blood of a mountain lion. In a voice so low it was almost a whisper, she said, "Last chance, boy, to confess and receive the absolution of God."

The red-faced boy's eyes flicked to the two naked boys bent over in the stream, their blistered, welted butts visible despite their attempts to hide themselves by crouching over the clothing they were beating against the rocks. His fear of suffering punishment such as theirs was palpable in the air. Mother Superior crossed her arms. "I see that, like these two, you insist on taking the difficult path. Very well- if your going to act like them, you can suffer the consequences. Lower your pants and your underpants to your ankles," she ordered. The two girls registered surprise at this unexpected turn of events. They almost never saw naked boys at the orphanage, except for the toddlers and the diaper set. Naked boys their own age were unheard of, up to yesterday, when the two who were in the stream had suddenly been seen briefly, here and there, but never closely, in that very state. The girls who'd caught a glimpse of the genitals yesterday had been the centers of attention, asked to describe, over and over, just what each boy's parts had looked like.

Now here they were next to the stream where the same two boys were naked from the waist down, and more than glimpses of their genitals were visible. They'd been watching the two avidly since arriving on their mission, looking while trying not to be seen looking by Mother Superior. And then, shockingly, this - a boy being told to lower his pants and underpants right next to them. The two girls met each other's gaze, their eyes sparkling, each fighting to appear unphased by this strange turn of events, each sure Mother Superior would command them to leave any moment if they made a sound or movement.

"Here?" the boy said, his voice choking with sudden fear.

"Here and now," Mother Superior ordered. She glared back at Jake and Sam. "Keep working on your disgusting clothing, you little pants wetters!" she called to them. Both boys guiltily bend back to their task, hunching over their bodies to hide their genitals as best they could, each thankful for shirt tails that hung down and concealed at least the roots of their penises.

Mother Superior looked back at the boy in front of her and withdrew her cane from his chin so that his head could come back to level. "You hard of hearing, boy?" she growled. Dropping her cane in a move so quick it belied her ancient appearance, she had both hands on the boy's pants in an instant, her fingers popping the button surely and swiftly, her right hand yanking down the zipper, and, before the boy could even react, both hands sliding down his flanks, stripping pants with them. As he started to reach down in shock to try to grab his pants and keep her from finishing the job, she had his gray, worn boxer-type shorts in her hands, and they joined his pants below his knees in a blink of an eye.

His small, flaccid genitals were revealed, the small shaft roughly comparable to Jake's post orgasmic organ in size and shape, but lacking his foreskin, the mushroom shape of the head prominent, the circumcision scare a browner ring under the pinker head. He reached to cover himself with shock as the two girls shifted their attention from the other two boys to him, but Mother Superior had her cane in hand again and cracked the back of his right hand with it.

"Owww!" the boy shrilled, his hand snatched back to be comforted with his other hand. Mother Superior bent and continued adjusting his clothing, shoving the cloth down below his knees, pushing until his ankles were trapped and his legs bare.

She shifted to his side and raised the cane threateningly behind his jutting buttocks, shockingly white against his darker shirt tail. His bum was quite prominent for a younger boy, the cheeks full and rounded, the cleft deep and firm, the tuck of the bottom enough to make Father McKenzie lick his lips involuntarily. "I asked you a question, boy," Mother Superior threatened, waving the cane. "What was it you told good Sister Charity?"

The two girls each held their breath, their eyes fixed on the boy's naked genitals. The boy muttered something inaudible, his face blushing beet red as he realized the girls were looking at his genital endowments. Jake and Sam were looking, too, making motions of washing their clothes but glued to the tableau on the bank. They'd seen the boy naked already, of course. He was one of the boys from the dorm they shared the shower with, one of the smooth-crotched prepubertal boys from the other room, big enough to use the shower next to theirs that they shared with the two biggest boys of that dorm. Still, seeing him naked in the bright sunshine was somehow different - everything was clearer, for starters, in the bright sunshine. His circumcision scar was more prominent, the whiteness of his skin more stark, the pinkness of his penis head more pronounced, the wrinkles of his scrotum more deep and visible. The other boy was actually quite respectably furnished for his size - his penis was as big as Jake's and Sam's, and his ball sack wasn't scrunched like theirs, but hung more slackly, their miniature contents swaying slightly with the boy's nervousness. (Jake's and Sam's had been in the cooler open quite a while by now, but this boy's sack had just come out of heat trapping pants and looked all the more saggy and droopy as a consequence).

"Speak up, boy!" Mother Superior barked. "I've got old ears!"

"I didn't mean nothing by it," the boy whined.

"By what?" Mother Superior barked. "What did you say?"

"I can't- I didn't mean it," the boy stammered. His little penis bounced as he wiggled his body, emphasizing his words.

"You didn't mean it when you said what?" Mother Superior retorted.

"I said... I was mad," the boy said. "She tore up my homework and said it was the worst she'd seen in front of everyone. So I said... I said...."

"He said the p word," the larger girl said. Mother Superior glared at her.

"You will say 10 Hail Mary's and 10 Our Fathers before dinner today," she said to the girl. "When I tell a child something, I expect it to be obeyed. If you weren't a girl, I'd be sending you to Mary Catherine for a spanking." She turned back to the boy. "Last chance," she said. "Tell me, right now, exactly what you said."

The boy hesitated.

"Now!" Mother Superior roared, her voice too large to have come from such a petite body.

The boy almost jumped out of his pants. "I- I- I- told her...... I told her.... piss on you," he said, the last part almost a whisper.

"WHAT!" Mother Superior shouted. "You told her WHAT?!!"

"I told her 'piss on you!'" the boy squealed back, now frightened out of his mind.

There was a shocked silence. Jake and Sam looked at each other, shocked by the boy's words in front of this, the holiest of all the nuns. Mother Superior lowered her cane, leaned on it, and crossed her arms, looking at the boy like he was something slimy she'd just stepped in while wearing her Sunday shoes.

The boy's face had gone dead white, and he looked back at the ground, saw his bare genitals, and tried to cup his hands over them. Mother Superior raised her cane and he snatched his hands back, letting them hang, twitching, at his sides.

"That isn't all," the younger girl said. "He said something even worse!"

Mother Superior fixed her eyes on the boy, raising the cane again steadily until it was under his chin, then raising his chin with it. "Really," she said quietly. "You said something worse? And what was that, boy? Remember, God knows everything you do—your only hope is to confess."

The boy sulked.

"One last chance, then it's 6 of the best for you, on the bare, and during dinner in front of the whole group," Mother Superior threatened. The boy flinched as if he could already hear the cane descending on his bare bottom, and his buttocks clenched involuntarily.

"I told her to kiss my butt," the boy said softly. Mother Superior used her cane to raise his chin again.

"I see," she said. "That is, indeed, unforgivable. She was wise to send you to me." She glared at the boy, who looked to the side to avoid meeting her eyes. Down below, his genitals slowly and visible shrank, his penis shortening to an inch-long stub, his balls slowly pulling tight as fear overtook him. "Well, you must be punished. And by your words, you have set your punishment." She turned to the girls. "Help him remove his clothing - all of it. Fold it neatly and place it on that rock."

The girls jumped forth eagerly, one crouching at his feet and unlacing shoes, the other unbuttoning his shirt from top to bottom. In moments, his chest was bare, and his pants and underpants were being slipped over his bony feet, leaving him more naked than Jake and Sam, who had gone back to vigorously dipping and wringing their pants following a glare from Mother Superior. She turned and eyed the boy's naked body up and down, making his blush. His little penis was now just a button, barely visible above the wrinkled patch of his balls, not at all impressive to the two girls who were getting their eyes full of his nudity and showing their disappointment at the sight. Mother Superior walked to a flat rock and poked it with her cane. "This will do," she said. "Stretch out on it!" she commanded the boy.

Shaking like leaf, fearing the worst butt thrashing of his life, the boy wobbled to the rock, slid to his knees, and started to stretch out face down.

"Not that way, you little imbecile!" Mother Superior snapped. "Face up!"

Puzzled but still frightened, the boy turned over awkwardly. It was obvious that he wanted to cover his genitals from the girls' gaze, but knowing the consequences of touching himself, he forced his hands to the rock beside him, then moved them behind his head to cushion it against the hard surface. The rock was comfortably worm in the sun and would have felt good against his soft back and buttocks at another time. Mother Superior nodded in approval. "Good, Good," she said. "That's a good position. Now spread your legs apart, boy - move your heels right out - Make a letter V with your legs!"

The boy, still puzzled, moved his legs apart. "Wider!" Mother Superior snapped. The boy moved his legs farther apart, making his genital sack far more visible. One of the girls giggled. Mother Superior snapped her head around, but she went past the girls to the two boys in the stream.

"You two!" she called. "Come out of there! Wring those pants and underpanties and stretch them on the limbs there by the bank to dry." She waited as Sam and Jake moved to carry out her commands, each groaning as the movements getting up stretched painfully sore buns. In moments they were standing, embarrassed and uncertain in front of Mother Superior, blushing as the girls stared at their genitals up close.

Mother Superior took each boy by and arm and pulled them over to the supine lad. She positioned Sam between the boy's spread legs, his body just above the boy's crotch, and stood Jake just above the boy's head.

"Very well," she said. "You girls come over here where you can see this better - you will report this boy's punishment to his compatriots just in case any of them think to repeat his scandalous language." The two girls walked over to stand at the side of the boy. Mother Superior moved them back about 5 feet, then stationed herself on the boy's other side, also a good 5 feet away.

"Don't you move a muscle," she snapped to the boy, squirming uncomfortably at being on the ground with two naked boys standing over him. He was starting to get a very, very bad feeling about this. "If you move so much as a muscle, that caning at the front of the dining tables will go forward, with you dressed just as you are right now."

The boy stilled his twitching. He looked fearfully up at her, his eyes darting from to each of the girls, then to Sam, then straight up at Jake, then back to Mother Superior's face, which was glittering now in what almost could be seen as malice.

"All right, boys, you may start his punishment," she said to Sam and Jake. "

Jake and Sam both looked at her, puzzled. "What do you mean?" Jake finally said in a thin, strangled voice.

"You will do what he proposed," Mother Superior replied, smiling a crocodilian smile. "It is after all, a fitting punishmet for his words." She looked down at the cowering boy. "Remember, if you move a muscle, it's the cane in front of the other students. You will learn to control your mouth, boy. What was it you said to my dear sister? Piss on you? Well, so they shall."

The boy's face went white and he made a move to get up. "Don't you dare move!" Mother Superior snapped. The boy froze and fell back to the rock. A whimper escaped his lips and he looked across at Sam fearfully, then more fearfully up at Jake, looking over his face.

"Nooooooooo...." he wailed, his voice trailing off. Jake looked at Sam and Sam looked at Jake, both wondering if they'd heard right. The two girls began giggling nervously. "No, please," the boy said again, more faintly, looking pleadingly at Mother Superior.

"Go ahead, boys," Mother Superior said gaily. "Unless you'd like to join him in front of the dining hall this evening - I wouldn't recommend it given the current state of your bottoms."

"You want us to.... to...."

"Piss on him," the nun said, savoring the sound of the words. "Right here, right now. No need to aim, neither of you can miss him where you're standing. You males are always so proud of being able to do this standing up - for once we'll put it to good use."

The boy's mouth was working, but no sound was coming out. Jake looked at Sam. Sam looked at Jake and shrugged, then looked down at his crotch and stilled the twitching little nervous dance he'd been doing up to this moment. Jake looked down at the boy, he suddenly clamped his mouth shut and closed his eyes, screwing his white face up in fear and anticipation. Inside him, his bowels were rapidly turning to water, and he had to fight to keep from dirtying himself on the rocks right then and there.

"Sorry, guy, she says we got to," Jake whispered to the boy.

"Yeah, sorry," Sam murmured. Both boys looked down at their crotches, not touching themselves, trying to relax tense, resisting muscles. Muscles that found all this wrong - being in the open, being watched by girls, and having as their target a fellow boy, a boy they could easily sympathize with. But there was no chance either of them would risk Mother Superior's threat - their butts were unimaginably sore and painful already - risking caning in front of the orphanage was unthinkable, but neither Jake nor Sam doubted Mother Superior would do just that.

Mother Superior's eyes glittered watched the boy on the ground cower, and the two over him fight to do her bidding. She turned and took in the girls, who were gazing hypnotically, the way people did at a car crash. Give the girls a show, she would. This would teach them a good lesson. Let them see just how depraved boys were, and what they'd do with those things of theirs. Let them think of this every time they thought of boy parts for the next few years. Let them see how sickening those parts truly were!