The Orphanage Boys Chapter 15
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 15: Fifteenth floor: Toys for Boys and Girls

Sam, Jake, and the so far unidentified other boy were growing increasingly uncomfortable. The negatives of lying face down on a flat rock while being forced to reach back and hold your butt apart with your hands were multiple. The position made the boys' backs arch slightly, putting weight on their lower stomachs and thighs and making breathing more difficult. And it pressed squishy little penises, curled in uncomfortable positions, uncomfortably against hard rock as well. Then you had to had to that the fact that holding one's buns apart widely became painful in short order. Fingers cramped, fingernails irritated soft tissue, and butt cracks screamed in protest at being stretched so violently. But when Jake tried, tentatively, to relax a little and let his buns close to a more comfortable position, the more dominant girl hand snapped, "keep those bottoms apart!" and he'd guiltily redoubled his efforts. After that, the girls whispering into each other's ears behind the boys, filling their eyes with the boys' humiliation and giggling uncontrollably. Eventually, the less dominant girl moved over and crouched down between Jake's legs. She proceeded to examine his exposed rear anatomy at close range, range so close he could feel hot, moist breath on his exposed butt crack. He twitched his anus involuntarily and the girl giggled, the rush of air tickling his orifice and making him twitch again.

The girl kept breathing hotly on Jake's butt. Then she lifted a hand and let it hover over his welted buns, but didn't touch him.

"I ain't never got a whooppin', 'specially not bare," she breathed into Jake's butt. "Does it hurt?"

Jake was floored by the question. Did getting spanked bare butt hurt? Was the Pope Catholic? Did bears crap in the woods? Why did she think he'd cried out so loudly when he was being paddled by Sister Mary Catherine? Because he was a big baby or something? Couldn't she see the blisters, and the welts, and the bruises, and the red marks?

"It's all covered with red bumps," the first girl breathed into Jake's butt. "How come it's all covered with red bumps? I mean, I knew they'd be red down there, but..." "Man, didn't you listen to the girls who just got back from the farm?" the other girl said. "The bumps are from them gettin' shot in their you-know-whats with a BB gun! Didn't you hear Sylvia bragging about how she got one of them right in the hole? And Kathy saying she hit the other one's boy place?"

"No way!" the other girl breathed into Jake's butt. "You mean all the little red marks are where they got shot? There must be more than a hundred of 'em!"

"The other girls said they were painted like targets," the seated girl said. "With a red bulls-eye you know where. I guess they used water colors or something, because most of the color washed off when they were in the water. But look, you can see the white circles just faintly here and here," she said. "And there's some red caught in the wrinkles of his yucky place."

Jake could feel the girl behind him studying him intensely. "It looks all sore," she said. "And puffy."

"That's 'cause they got M&M's, the seated girl said. "Sister Mary Catherine gave them a whole bunch of M&M's yesterday afternoon. You know, where they force water and stuff up their behinds? Floyd Cutner said so, and Stinky Bannister backed him up. Said she stuck this big tube right in their holes and filled them up with bad stuff, stuff that burns and itches, and then made them hold it awhile before letting them, well, you know. Relieve themselves. And they had to go, you know, number 2, right in front of everyone!"

"Oooooh, yuck!" the girl behind Jake exclaimed, giving his asshole a look of complete disgust. Jake could feel her eyes boring into his butt hole, elbowing his anal ring open and tunneling right inside of him, right through his insides and up into his brain, maybe even reading his dirty, secret thoughts. But when she spoke again, she continued on the same topic as before.

"So, like, they had to lie down and get it, and then run to the toilets? And, like, wipe in front of everyone?" The three boys, staring out in front of themselves, couldn't see her, but if they had they'd have seen she was wrinkling a freckled nose in a most fetching manner.

"Naw," the other girl said. "Remember when that big kid, Dwight something or the other, punched Sister Catherine, and they whipped him with a switch in front of us? You know, the one they whipped with just his underpants on? And they tied him to that sawhorse thing? And you could even see his boy stuff bulging back between his legs? They've got two them now, I guess, because Floyd said they tied them both to sawhorses, so their butts were sticking up, and then Mary Catherine and that other nun, the one with the face like a horse, shoved the M&M tubes in you know where, and then they took them out and made them hold it awhile, and then they had to go number 2 while still tied up. So all the boys could see the stuff coming out of them and everything! And they washed their mouths out with soap, and gave them stuff that made them throw up, too!" she added.

"Yuck," the other girl said again. "Boys are disgusting."

Jake felt the unfairness of this statement cut him like a knife. How was it their fault that people did embarrassing and unpleasant things to their bodies? He certainly wouldn't have voluntarily pooped his guts out in front of other people! In fact, if he had his choice, the boys would have private little stalls where they could shut the door and poop in private! The girl exhaled one last, long breath into Jake's open crack, then she stood up and shifted over until she was standing between Sam's spread legs. Quickly she squatted down again, her simple shift skirt pooling around her feet, and began breathing on Sam's equally distended, red anal ring. "That's where all the bad stuff comes out, right there," she said, pointing a dainty finger at Sam's exposed butt hole but being careful not to touch what she clearly considered a disgusting, dirty place. (Quite unfairly, too. Between having received multiple enemas, having freshly showered, then having their butts cleaned with iodine prior to receiving their shots, Sam and Jake both probably had the cleanest butts in the orphanage at that moment not just among the boys, but among the girls, too).

"Gee willikers, Kath!" the squatting girl retorted. "You don't think I know that? We both just saw Roger wet himself, and these two wet on him. Don't you think I saw where it came out?"

"Maybe you weren't watching," Kath (probably short for Katherine, as half the girls at the orphanage were either name Katherine or Mary or Miriam) retorted. "Maybe you were thinking about Michael Cheswick instead. I bet you'd wish you could see Michael Cheswick's pee thing instead of theirs."

The other girl stood up again after only the most cursory of surveys of Sam's ass crack. She squatted behind the third boy, the one she had called Roger. "How come his is so skinny and tight?" she asked. "It's not all red and pouty like theirs."

Kath sighed, but it was a patient sigh. "That's how they normally look, Steph," she said. "The new kids got M&Ms, remember? So they're all swollen and irritated. And maybe Sylvia wasn't bragging, maybe they did get shot in their holes with BB guns, too. That was the bulls-eye, after all."

"Wow," the other girl said. "They must really be sore there."

You have no idea, thought Jake to himself. He allowed himself a brief fantasy of taking these two out behind the barn, tying them to the platforms, lifting their dresses up over their backs, and pulling their panties down to expose their bare butts. He pictured himself and Sam choosing a girl and walking out behind her to take aim at her butt hole with a genuine Red Ryder BB gun. He'd seen Sam's butt hole, and his own in the mirror, often enough that he could envision the soft smooth butt cheeks framing the tight, wrinkled slit. In his fantasy, he would lift the rifle and aim right at that tight slit, watching the pink anal muscle twitch in fear as the girl waited for the same stinging pain he had felt so many times that morning. In his fantasy, he pressed steadily and firmly on the trigger, the gun bucked in his hands with the now familiar "whoomp" sound, and the BB hit the tight slit square in the center, burrowing in for a perfect bulls-eye. He could picture the girl squealing, trying ineffectually to close her soft, velvety buns. He would remain calm and steady though, lowering the barrel for his next shot, down between her legs where he would aim at ...

And there his fantasy stopped. Aim at what? For a moment, he'd pictured Sam's tight, bulging marble sack, and beyond it, the pointed tip of Sam's dangling member. But he knew that wasn't right. Girls had neither of those things -- they were startlingly flat between the legs. All you had to do was look at one of them wearing shorts to see that. He replaced that image in his head with a triangle of smooth skin, like the crotches of the dolls the girls they knew in the city dressed and undressed endlessly. But then that couldn't be right either could it? Because girls had to have someplace where they peed. And that place wasn't their butts. He'd known that, even before these two girls had acknowledged that girls peed out of their fronts two, just like boys. He pictured a little slit in the middle of that smooth triangle, like the pee slits on the penises of all the boys of the orphanage. Pee slits that could be seen all the time when they were in the shower, because for some reason none of them had the fleshy hoods on their members that he and Sam had. But he couldn't quite imagine where such a slit would be, either. Righ in the center of the front, where his and Sam's penises projected? Or lower down, near where their legs joined? He couldn't really picture either scenario, not without it oozing away before becoming clear in his mind. Instead, the slit would invariably end up attached to a little knob or bump, a knob like the shrunken penises the less mature boys often showed when the shower room was cold in the morning, before the hot water started. But girls couldn't have a bump like that - it would show in their shorts. Maybe if it barely showed...

He focused his mind on that image, and pictured the little bump barely sticking projecting on the flat surface between their legs, and in his mind he aimed his gun at the bump, picturing the BB striking right in the middle of the bump's tiny pee slit.

And paused in his thoughts. Why didn't girls have penises like the boys, anyway? And why were boys and girls different down there? And why did girls grow breasts as they got older? His mind seized on that image, and immediately recalled the tantalizing curves he'd seen in the steam of the girls' shower room, before Mother Superior's voice had signaled the doom that had descended on him and Sam. He could swear he remembered seeing a pair of jaunty, upright breasts jutting proudly just before his heart had stopped in fear at the sound of her voice, smooth, white, pink-tipped with surprisingly big nipples, and slathered with soapsuds. His trapped penis twitched and he became ware it was stiffening slightly, and he forced his mind to think about other, less titillating things. He remembered the fat boy by his bunk waddling naked to the shower, his buttocks at war with each other as he walked, fat gut hanging over a barely visible penis, just a mushroom head, really, pointing straight out. Why didn't that boy, and the other boys, have the roll of skin that he and Sam had covering the tips of their penises and hiding their pee slits? Why didn't any boy they'd seen look like them down there? Were he and Sam freaks?

His train of thought was broken by a commotion to his right. The girl had been studying the boy Roger's anus from close range, maybe even closer then she'd looked at Jake's and Sam's swollen buttholes. She'd been staring at it, open mouthed and cross eyed, when suddenly warmth hissed into her face. She jerked back, startled, and Roger began braying like a donkey, shaking all over with laughter. She let out a shriek and scrambled backwards from between the boy's legs.

"He—he tooted!" she squealed. "Right in my face! I think I'm going to be sick!" She held her hand over her mouth and retched several times, but didn't throw up. In a few moments, she leaned back, looking green in the face, panting. She looked at the girl Kath for sympathy, and saw that she was shaking with laughter instead. With lighting-like movements, she rabbit-punched the other girl hard in the shoulder.

"Ow!" Kath complained. "That hurt!"

"Stop laughing!" Steph shot back. "It's not funny!"

"Yes it is!" Roger shot over his shoulder, still quaking with laughter. He tensed his abdomen and forced out a shorter but louder fart. "It's fucking hilarious!"

Jake and Sam snapped their heads around to gape at the other boy in shock. The two girls also turned to gape at him. The violated Steph was the first one to recover. "you said the F word!" She gasped. "I heard you! We all heard you! You said the F word!"

"No I didn't," Roger said. "Did I, boys? Did I say the f-word? Did I even say the x-, y-, or z-word? I didn't say any words at all, did I?"

Sam opened his mouth to answer that, truthfully, the other boy had indeed said the mother of all forbidden words. But Jake, always better at seeing implications, cut him off. "I didn't hear him say the f-word," he said solemnly. "You didn't hear him say it either, did you, Sam?"

"What are you talking about?" Sam said. "He just said..."

"You didn't hear him say it, did you, Sam?" Jake said more insistently, cutting Sam off.

"Um, no," Sam said, finally catching on. "I never saw him do anything with his— his bottom, either."

"Telling what?" Roger asked. "You're telling that you had your face in my butt? How are you going to explain that?"

"I..." the girl paused. How was she going to explain Roger's indecency without explaining the reason for her own proximity to him? She was pretty sure mother superior would not approve of her close examination of all three boys' collective anatomies.

Kath stepped in, taking sides in this boy against girl battle. "She could tell about the f-word, though," she said. "She could just say he tooted and then he said it was f-in' hilarious. And I'd back her up."

"But they'd back me up," Roger insisted hotly over his should. "So that's three against two."

"Yeah, but who do you think she's going to believe? Two innocent girls, or three disgusting boys who were already being punished?" Kath said. She let that soak in for a minute. All three boys, with sinking spirits, realized that this was a battle they had little chance of winning if push came to shove. The girl put on a crafty smile, surveying the three boys lying face down on the ground, straining keep their butts spread apart in the prescribed position even during this battle. One by one, she allowed herself to eye the three butt holes that her partner had looked at so closely. Then she inspected, one at a time, what she could see of the the three tight little scrota pressed against the rock, pressed to tightly that for all three boys the oblong marbles in each tight sack bulged and could be compared. The new boy on the left was clearly biggest in that department from this angle. She found herself suddenly wanting to compare their penises side by side as well.

"I will make you a deal," she said to the backsides of the boys. "If you boys promise to do everything we tell you to while you're drying off, we won't tell about the tooting or the f-word. But if you don't, we'll tell Mother Superior that all three of you were using the f-word. And you can tell them you didn't, and we'll see who she believes. I bet you'd get whipped in front of the whole dining hall at dinner, with your little weenie things hanging out where everyone could see them. Or maybe you'd even get strapped!"

"But he's the only one who..." Sam began. Jake shushed him.

"it doesn't matter, Sam," he said. "What matters is what they say we did." He twisted his head around to look at those triumphantly smiling girl. "What you want us to do?" he asked.

"I'll wipe it on your face! Roger retorted. But the girls had clearly won, because Roger, like the other two boys, slowly and reluctantly turned over. Six boyish hands moved to cover genitals, but Kath forestalled them. "Put your hands behind your heads and keep them there until we tell you different," she said.

Sam hesitated, but Jake, knowing he was beaten, complied immediately. Roger moved his hands almost insolently, and thrust of his small, hairless pelvis at the girls a couple of times suggestively before settling his butt down. Jake and Sam, meanwhile, were wincing and trying not to cry out at the pain of their weight resting on what had become incredibly sore bottoms.

The two girls surveyed the three small, flaccid penises for a long moment, comparing the two pointed, foreskin-bearing members to the somewhat shorter, rounded, mushroom headed member of remaining boy. Jake and Sam blushed, but Roger grinned, clearly over the embarrassment of being bared like that, or maybe just supremely confident in his boyhood.

"You like it, don't you?" he said insolently. "Bet you wish you could touch it!"

Roger's smirk collapsed off his face like a dam dissolving in a rush of water. He looked down involuntarily and then caught himself, flushing a bit. "It gets bigger," he said sullenly. "It's usually lots bigger. It's just cold out here."

"Michael's is twice that big," Steph said quietly, almost wonderingly. "Maybe three times that big. And it sticks up. And it's real hard, not soft and baby like these guys." Now what was the other girl's turn to gape at her partner. "Steph! You really saw Michael's boy thing? When? You never told me!"

"I was going to tell you," the other girl said. "I just hadn't gotten around to it."

"Get out! He really showed you! Where?!" her friend said. They were now ignoring the three exposed boys' genitals entirely, chattering excitedly as only pubescent girls can do.

"Last week. Between the dorms. We slipped into that little place with the bush in front of it and he showed me. He pulled his pants down in front and I saw it!" the other girl admitted.

"You didn't just see it, you touched it!" The other girl accused. "Otherwise you wouldn't know it was hard. Admit it, you touched it!"

"No I didn't! It just looked like it would be hard if you touched it, that's all," her partner said defensively. "Like rubbery-looking."

"Huh uh. You touched it. I bet you even squeezed it," Kath rejoined.

"Hey, are you talking about Michael Cheswick?" Roger interjected. "Michael, mole on his face Cheswick? He isn't so big! I've seen him in the shower! His isn't any bigger than mine! He just plays pocket pool all the time so it stands up and looks bigger. And stupid hair doesn't mean anything." He nodded at Jake. "Even that kid had hair down there until Sister pulled it out."

"So you think those baby things you guys have are as big as Michael's? Prove it. Make yourselves hard, all three of you," the girl named Kath said. "Steph can tell us if you're lying!"

"We can't," Roger snapped back. "Father Mckenzie says I'll go to hell if we touch it. At least if I die before I confess. And if I tell him I touched it, I'll have to wear one of those stupid boxes all the time, like Scooter."

"Who's Scooter?" Sam asked. Roger actually started, apparently forgetting there were two other boys beside him on the ground.

"You know, Scooter!" Roger said, as if that explaind it. Sam looked at him in puzzlement. "Scooter!" Roger said again. "The kid with the box on his dick! Don't tell me you haven't seen him trying to pee through that stupid thing! He can't even aim it - he has to pee inside the box, and then it dribbles out the holes in the bottom. He smells like pee all of the time! And in the shower he can't wash it - there's some little holes in the top the water goes in, but it isn't enough to get him clean, and he can't use soap in it at all. That's why he smells. And he says it itches like crazy—he can't stand it some times. He just stands there wiggling his butt and bouncing like an idiot! He's had that thing on for a month at least, because he 'cause he can't keep his hands off himself," Roger added. "Every time he gets it off, he goes a few days, and then he gets caught with his hands in his pants."

He grinned at the girls. "We call him "Fingers" sometimes," he confided.

Roger's confidence returned. "Sure," he said. "I knew you wanted it. Go ahead, touch it. I'll show you I'm every bit as big as old Michael - bigger, even."

"Oh, I have no intention of touching that stinky old pee thing of yours," Kath retorted. "I wouldn't touch any part of you, 'specially not after these two peed all over you. You reek to high heaven, you know. Like a baby in a sopping wet diaper." She wrinkled her nose at Roger. "But that doesn't mean they can't touch you." She pointed at Sam. "You!" She said. "Reach over and make his boy thing hard."

Sam gaped at her. "Do what?" He said.

"Make him hard. Rub his boy thing until it's sticking up! Let's see how big he gets!" Kath said.

"So what?" the ringleader snapped back. "It's your pee. And did Father McKenzie ever say boys can't touch other boys?"

"No, but.." Sam said.

"So you can," Kath shot back. "Besides, you agreed to do anything we asked as long as we don't tell Mother Superior that you all said the f-word," the wily Kath shot back. "You promised," she added. "And you have to keep your promises," she added.

"Aw, forget it, Kath," Steph said. "We'll just tell Mother Superior that they were all saying the f-word to us. Then we can watch them get paddled in front of everyone instead."

"Yeah, maybe you're right," Kath said. "It'll be fun watching their little boy things bounce while they hop and jump around," she added.

Sam paled in fright. He could picture, all too vividly, the sharp pain as his already badly beaten butt was given still more hard blows, and could feel the burning flush on his face, almost as hot as his butt, as he stood facing a sea of kids in the dining hall bare naked, his genitals hanging out for all to see and maybe, if these girls were any guide, to sneer at. Breaking completely, his hand flew to the other boy's crotch, where begin fumbling with the boy's small, flaccid member.

"Hey, not so hard!" Roger protested. "Don't yank on it! That hurts! Just rub it, like you do when you're jerking off!"

"When I'm what?" Sam asked, confused. He slowed his hand, trying to be more gentle, but continuing to yank on the other boy's soft member.

"Jerking off! Playing with yourself! Don't tell me you don't jerk off!" Roger sneered. "Ow! Don't squeeze so hard." Sam loosened his grip, and the other boy's member started sliding between his fingers rather than stretching. "That's better. God, he's really awful at it," he added to Kath. "Maybe he hasn't done it before."

Belying his words, the mushroom head of his penis had swelled, and the shaft had lengthened, so that it now stood straight up from his groin like a flagpole.

"That's enough!" the Kath commanded after a few more moments, moments where Roger had begun twitching and moving his hips to the rhythm of Sam's inept fumbling. "You're not trying to make him feel good." Sam removed his hand, from Roger's penis. Sensing that it was damp, he lifted to his face, took a tentative sniff, and grimaced. The two girls, and Jake as well, ignored him, looking instead with interest at the other boy's now fully erect member.

Despite the girls' insistence that calling the boy's genitals tiny, Roger's penis was actually quite respectable for a circumcised, prepubertal boy, stretching out to almost 3 inches. The tube running down the underside projected slightly, making a bulge in the otherwise circular cross-section. A dark scar circled the shaft about an inch below the mushroom head, the only sign that this boy had once possessed a foreskin just like the other two. The scar was dark pink against the near-white surface of the shaft. Dark veins showed thread like under the skin, including a prominent one that bulged above the surface on the right side, where the head joined the shaft. Despite his member's hardness, the boy's pee slit remained tightly and chastely closed. The erect little pole swayed slightly with the boy's rapid heartbeat.

"Now do his," the ringleader told Sam, pointing at Jake. "We'll have a contest. A biggest weenie contest. You do his at the same time," she added, indicating that Roger was to manipulate Sam's flaccid member.

Sam, already cowed, reached obediently with his other hand and grasped Jake's soft member and began tugging it, this time more gently than he had Roger's. Roger didn't move, keeping his arms resolutely behind his head. "I ain't touchin' no other boy down there," he grumbled. "And you can't make me. I ain't no fairy."

A confident Kath crossed her arms. "I guess I'll just have to tell mother superior that you said the f-word, and then that you played with yourself down there the whole time she was gone. What did you say happens if you play with yourself? You get your little weenie stuffed in a box for a long time? Think of that, Roger. Your weenie locked in a box, all itchy and hot and wet from pee, and you can't touch it the whole time? I bet you'd stink like a toddler in a wet diaper all the time! Maybe your weenie would get diaper rash! Wouldn't that be fun? You'd be all itchy and sore at the same time, and wouldn't be able to do anything about it!"

Roger blinked, then closed his eyes slowly and opened them again, looking to the side now, away from everyone. Slowly, as if it was operating all on its own, Roger's hand came out from under his head, bumped into Sam's bare hip, then climbed up Sam's side and settled on his bare genitals, expertly circling his soft penis with thumb and forefinger, tugging it gently to life. The two girls smirked in a superior fashion as they watched the two uncircumcised boys' small poles stretch out and climb, Jake's toward the sky like Roger's, Sam's curving toward his belly, making a handle that looked sturdy enough to lift him with.

"Stop," Kath finally ordered. "That's enough. We don't want them cumming, any more than we wanted you to."

"Cumming?" the other girl, Steph, said.

Jake and Same both tried to follow this, but it was too confusing. What was cumming, and what was all this talk about squirting stuff? Boys squirted pee from their weenies all the time, but that wasn't a sin - Sister Grace knew they did it - had supervised them in the bathroom, had even ordered boys to pee before they started their days.

"You guys put your hands behind your heads again," Kath went on. "It's time to start the contest." Sam hesitated, looking at the hand that had touched the peed upon Roger, but he finally slipped it behind his head like the other two boys. The two girls stepped closer, eyes going from penis to penis to penis, so alike in their hardness and their insistent projection, so different in shape and curve.

"They're all about the same," Steph finally said. "In size that is. But how come they're so different looking? I thought they'd all look the same down there."

"Aw, come on, Steph, grow up!" Kath replied. "Do we all look the same down there? 'Course not! You know how some of the girls are all sloppy and open, and some are tight, and other girls are hairy or smooth or puffy down there? Well, guys are the same way - they're all different!"

"Michael's is a lot bigger," Step agreed. "And it doesn't have that little hood on it that this one and that one have," she added, pointing first at Jake's skyward-pointing pole, and then at Sam's curved one.

She leaned down to look, cross-eyed, at Roger's erect mushroom-topped stalk, then shifted to look at Jake's. "Hey, you can see a little slit in his, just like Roger's!" she said, her hot breath tickling the end of Jake's penis. "The pointy part pulls back!"

The ringleader came and squatted beside Jake. Reaching out, she gripped the tip of Jake's penis between a thumb and forefinger and pushed down, her eyes widening as the foreskin rolled off the tip of Jake's penis, revealing a head very much like Roger's exposed one.

"Hey, you're not supposed to touch a boy's weenie! It's a sin!" Roger piped up.

"I'm not touching, I'm investigating," Kath retorted. "And investigating isn't a sin." She moved her hand toward herself, pulling Jake's foreskin back over his glans. She immediately pulled it back down again and then moved it up several more times. Involuntarily, Jake's penis head swelled and his pelvic muscles contracted, clenching his butt and making his penis jerk. Kath smirked at him, and Steph. "Feels good, doesn't it?" she said she asked.

Jake nodded seriously. He was majorly stirred up inside, and his penis was begging her to go on with all it's fervor.

"You really like it when I do this, do you?" Kath asked, pumping his penis a few more times.

Jake nodded solemnly, his breath catching in his throat, his heart pounding.

"That's why I gonna stop it," Kath finished.

She let go of Jake's penis and a longing filled him such as he'd never known, an ache to be touched like that again. Disappointing him, she moved over to squat in front of Sam and immediately gripped his foreskin, pulling against his erection to force his penis to point at her face. "You can see his pee hole, too," she said to the other girl, indicating the tight slit in his glans just visible under the partially retracted foreskin. Slowly, deliberately, she drew his foreskin down off the tip of his glans and then drew it back up again, repeating the action several times until Sam, too, clenched his butt and made his penis jerk. Then she released him as well, his penis snapping back so sharply that the tip smacked his taut belly with an audible "whap," then bobbed in place for a moment before stopping once again, arched over his groin. Kath ignored Sam's disappointed sigh and moved over to squat in front of Roger.

There as a long pause where she did nothing but look at Roger's hard member pointing at her, the pee slit still closed despite his erection.

"Go ahead, touch it," Roger said, almost smirking.

"Why would I bother?" the girl retorted. "It's just a baby thing. Just a toddler's teeny weenie. And I've already touched enough of them. It's not even special like these other guys'." She nodded at Jake's hooded member. "And it's every bit as little." Roger flushed.

"It's not so little," he said irritably.

"Yes it is," Kath replied. "You've all got little ones, right Steph? And no balls at all!" She surveyed the three scrota, now visible under their erections between the boys' widely spread legs. "I've seen bigger marble bags! Even bigger than his," she added, indicating Jake with a casual wave of her hand. "And his are lots bigger than the ones on you guys," she said, waving a hand at Sam and Roger almost derisively.

Roger glared at Jake, like it was the new boy's fault that his pubescent balls had started to grow. "Mine's bigger than any of the boys in my dorm!" he said sullenly.

"And how would you know that?" Steph asked sweetly. "Do you guys get hard and have contests? Get out a ruler and measure them? Sounds to me like you're way too interested in other boys' stuff."

"Shows what you know," Roger replied hotly. "They just get hard on their own, everyone knows that! 'Specially when you gotta pee! And the bathroom's all open - you can't help but see everyone's!"

Jake found himself nodding - everything Roger said was true. Except for Roger's claim that he had the biggest penis in the dorm, of course. There were boys deep into puberty who had penises far bigger than all of theirs, including their nemesis Flip and his gang, boys with members that stuck out like huge cylinders as they made their way arrogantly to the urinals in the morning, their big balls swaying with each step, their full bushes of hair making them look alien and somewhat gross.

"These three are just toddlers," Kath said, standing up and surveying the three sets of privates with disdain. "Just tiny little diaper babes with dinky weenies."

"Mine's as big as Michael's," Roger insisted again, but he didn't sound so sure this time.

The ringleader turned back to him, a superior smirk on her face. "Yours," she said, "looks like a dog poop. A skinny little dog turd from a yippy little dog. You know, when they're squatting and the turd comes out of them and just hangs there for a minute before it falls. That's what yours looks like. And those two look the same, only their turds are pointed instead of rounded on the end. In fact," she added, turning her back. "I can't stand to look at them anymore. Steph, make Roger put on his clothes. Be careful of his drawers, though - I bet they're pissy from him wetting his pants like a baby." She grinned a superior grin at Roger, who appeared, for the first time, to be thoroughly beaten. She turned to Jake and Sam. "And you other two, get your clothes and fold them and stack them so you can carry them. Then get yourselves off to the infirmary."

She crossed her arms and stared away from them, illustrating how she felt about their naked bodies. Steph, showing no such disdain, watched with wide eyes as Roger sprang to his feet and rushed to retrieve his underwear. "Eww, you smell like pee," she said. Roger flushed, humiliated by the truth of what she said. He did smell like pee - he reeked of it. He was pretty well dry know, but he could feel where every drop from those new boys had splashed on him, hot and defiling and wet. He crammed his legs in his underpants and pulled them high so the waistband would go over his hard penis. Steph giggled as his penis settled straight out, making as credible a tent as any prepurbertal 11-year-old could muster. Flushing, he scrambled into his pants and shirt as fast as he could, squatting to don socks and shoes and tie them. The other boys were retrieving their clothes from the branches where they'd been hung, struggling to fold them, their dusky red and purple, welted posteriors eye-catching against their otherwise white skin. Glancing to the side, he watched them as stealthily as he could, studying their blistered buttocks as they reached high, their hard penises on display for the girls, to retrieve their clothes from the branches where they'd been drying. He kept watching as they bent low to fold their clothes on the rocks, unaware of how their plump little scrota were visible under violated, swollen assholes. Seeing again the welts, the blisters, the purple bruises, the hints of slipper tread, and the puffy, red assholes, he almost felt sorry for them. Almost. But then he caught a strong whiff again of the odor emanating from his chest and crotch and anger flowed through him. He was going to smell like that all day, until tomorrow morning! He'd be the butt of pants pissing jokes and diaper jokes and baby jokes for weeks. He straightened up and leaned toward Jake, who had finished folding clothes and was bending to gather them up, probably eager to get to the infirmary and out of the casual sight of the other kids.

"I'll get you," he hissed into Jake's ear. "And your fairy friend, too! I'll get you on challenge day! And maybe before then, too! You and your fairy buddy better watch your asses!" He turned and began stomping off to the buildings of the orphanage, and the two girls fell in step behind him, although Steph looked over her should at the two still naked boys as they left, drinking in one last look at their nakedness, her steady gaze making Jake's blood rise hot to his face again. Jake glanced at Sam, and saw that his friend was disturbed by the other boy's words, too. That was all they needed, another enemy around here. And what the heck was challenge day?