The Orphanage Boys Chapter 30
by Chadlad

copyright 2010 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 30: Thirtieth floor—Specialty Furniture

So is was Jake and Sam spent the rest of the afternoon taking turns alternately being begged by Dennis to pee on him and being cursed at by Dennis for not aiming their pee where he needed it to go. The girl who'd tormented the bound boy when bringing eggs exited the house, but she didn't come their way, instead glancing at them furtively, looking quickly away, and hurrying off in another direction. The group of older boys came out again sometime later, walked over to Dennis without a word, gathered around him in a semi-circle, and repeated their performance of peeing on him from all sides much as before, making Jake marvel again at their bladder capacities. The boys ignored Dinky's protests that he didn't need to be peed on at the moment and certainly not in his face, and they ignored the two younger boys cowering by the wall, simply zipping up and then clomping off toward the hog pens, their friendly banter picking up as they walked away as if peeing on their bunkmate was an everyday occurrence. Then the farm yard was quite for several hours. Jake and Sam each had two turns trying to wash ants off Dinky's butt crack, balls, and dick, usually to his dissatisfaction.

By mid afternoon, though, the ants launched a major assault on Dinky's butt hole, making him beg both boys to pee on him in quick succession. He was also starting to look a bit pink by that point, with even an autumn sun finally taking its toll on his bare skin. Sam missed the target entirely, though, wasting his meager output on Dinky's bare thigh, and Jake missed to the side of the boy's anus instead. Both boys retreated to the shaded wall as Dinky heaped them with invective for their inability to save his anal orifice. Several ants pressed the boy's twitching, contracting butt hole, disappearing within, and more climbed up to explore that tight slit. Dennis raged, screamed, whined, and then grow silent, looking down and concentrating. As Sam and Jake watched with amazement and some revulsion, the tied boy's abdominal muscles rippled, then his butt hole twitched, flexed, and then seemed to fold outward, like the mouth of a carp pressing out. It took both boys a moment to realize what the older boy was doing. "He's pooping!" Sam exclaimed under his breath. "Right out here where everyone can see! Yuck!"

Still, they couldn't take their eyes away as the tight slit widened and became circular, a dark brown, bullet-shaped cylinder like a second penis shoving out. Dennis was making grunting noises that would have embarrassed Jake to make, apparently having a hard time expelling the mass. The dark brown, penis-like log hung there for a moment pointing at the other boys, then fell to land between his splayed buns as the distended circle of his anus twitched and squeezed powerfully shut to a slit again. Residual brown material now filled the dark pink wrinkles that surrounded the slit, and made a line down the slit itself as well, making the boy's anus more prominent, but also blocking egress to any new ants that might come along. Dennis panted, then looked up and glared at them.

"What?" he said belligerently. "You never saw.y a guy take a shit before?" He smiled meanly. "Got 'em out," he added. "They were biting in there." He tried to look over his penis at the mess he'd deposited on the ground. "Maybe that will distract them awhile," he added. "Maybe they'll crawl on it instead of me. And in me." He leaned over, yanking on his bonds, looking down, craning his neck to see his output. "Hey, my button!" he exclaimed.

Jake looked away, finding the sight of the boy's waste lying there under his once again tight hole against his buttocks quite revolting. He'd watched, and now he wished he hadn't—it was like watching the hogs poop, and yet it wasn't. It was an image that he would not get out of his head for some time. But what was all this about a button? He got up and walked toward the bound boy, his curiosity overcoming his revulsion. Sure enough, as he got closer, it was clear that a white shirt button was embedded in the side of the boy's output. What, had he swallowed it? Sam was beside him, looking down, also puzzled. Jake opened his mouth to ask how the boy came to be shitting buttons, but was startled badly by a voice behind him, so startled that he jumped and almost stepped into Dinky's poop.

"As good an object lesson as this has been to young Dennis, and to you little animals as well, I believe it is time to bring this particular exercise to its end. You two boys have been reasonably obedient, which quite surprised me, really, given dear Mary Catherine's description of you. I frankly expected you'd be both touching yourselves and violating my edict against brushing ants off of dear Dennis the moment my back was turned. But other than your momentary urge to strike the boy's genitals with a stick, an urge you thought better of before execution, you two have been as good as gold. I've also noted how diligently you've worked at using your bodily fluids to protect your misbegotten charge. It shows an admirable level of empathy." She looked down between Dinky's spread legs. "I see your missing button has reappeared," she said. "You will retrieve it after you are untied, so that the girls can sew it back on your shirt. "You will also clean up your mess."

Jake looked at Sister Magdalene open-mouthed. Where had she come from? How did she know about the stick he'd been going to whack Dinky's penis with just before that girl had appeared? The nun looked back at him impassively. She stooped and began untying Dinky's bonds. "You boys don't really believe I'd leave a boy staked down by an anthill without watching him closely, do you?" she asked as she worked with the ropes. Dinky's hands came free and he moaned, bringing them in front of him with his fingers twisted into claws pressing against his chest. His joints clearly were shrieking in pain after being tied for hours. She moved to his front and began unstaking his feet. "Try not to get your feet in that, Dennis, dear," she said as she pulled each foot free. "You'll just make more work for these boys when they have to wash you." She leaned over and took Dennis under the arms, lifting him, groaning, to his feet and set him to one side. Dennis crouched immediately, rubbing sore legs and ankles with his hands, moaning loudly. The button in the disgusting pile by his feet glistened in the sun.

"Come on, get on with it," Sister Magdalene urged, prodding Dinky's bare butt. "Retrieve that button and bring it with you—we'll wash it when we wash you. Then pick up your mess—you can deposit it in the privy on our way to the showers."

Dennis looked at the wiry sister. She was short enough he didn't even have to look up. "Can I have a tissue or something?" he pleaded. Sister Magdalene looked at him, and her gaze was hard. "It's already touched you," she said. "It came out of you. So you can pick it up. Beside, a boy who has no qualms about sticking his holy organs into another boy's waste orifice can't possibly be squeamish about the wastes that come out of there. Now either pick it up, or I'll roll you in it so that you pick it up with your body. Your choice."

Dennis looked down at the lump on the ground with obvious distaste. Bending over, he studied it, then gingerly approached it with thumb and forefinger from one side, pinching the button out of the mass, then grimacing at his fingers. Using his other hand, he threw sand on all sides of the lump, coating it heavily. Showing great reluctance, he approached it from the top with his free hand and closed his fingers over it, holding it away from his body as he straightened up. Sister Magdalene nodded in satisfaction, clearly pleased at her ability to get Dennis to obey her at such a distasteful task. "Follow me, boys," she said, heading off across the farmyard toward the barns in the distance.

Dennis, button in one hand and turd in the other, followed her, clearly still stiff from his long time being tied up. Jake and Sam trailed behind, their little wieners flopping as they walked, to their embarrassment. For the first time that afternoon, Dennis was soft, his penis dangling farther than those of the younger boys, but mushroom-headed, not covered with a foreskin. As they neared the barn they veered over to a row of three privies standing to one side and Sister Magdalene held the door while Dennis ventured in, coming back with his left hand empty but still holding it from his body in disgust, along with his other hand still holding the button. They proceeded to the far side of the barn, where a hose was hooked to a hydrant. "The barn and the house are hooked to the water tower in the top of the barn," Sister Magdalene said. "Just like the wash house and its bunk. So the boys and girls have running water for showers and sinks. The girls in the house have flush toilets, too, but they've earned them. The girls in the wash house haven't earned such luxuries, and they're wasted on you boys, of course. If I had my way, you young boys would use privies, too—flush toilets encourage you boys to put on airs and expect more than your lot in life."

"We'll wash dear Dennis out here," she said, picking up a hose. "You boys, take off those shirts. You're going to have to scrub him, and I don't want to have to worry about how carefully I aim this thing. There's soap here in this bucket, along with some horse brushes. One of you take the soap, and the other one the brush, and let's get to work." She shoved the bucket at Jake. Jake took it and stood there holding it. Sister Magdalene frowned at him. "Are you boys deaf?" she snapped. "Off with the shirts, and take the brush and the soap!"

Jake jumped at the loud voice and belatedly began pulling the tight shirt off. Sam followed quickly, so that in moments there were three butt-naked boys standing next to the barn. Jake set the bucket down, bent over it, and came up with a bar of harsh-looking soap and a brush with rather stiff bristles. He handed the soap quickly to Sam, who took it obediently. Suddenly, all three boys were being blasted with high pressure water from the hose, ice cold water that soaked them from head to too. All three boys tried to cower behind each other, but the water cut off just as quickly. "Soap him," Sister Magdalene snapped. "Start with his hair and work down. When you get to his bottom, make him bend over so you can get that disgusting area clean. You, with the brush—follow him down, and scrub hard."

Sam grimaced, but he moved over until he was almost touching Dennis and began scrubbing the soap in his hair, working down the back of the other boy's neck to his shoulders. Jake followed, brushing the scrub brush over the soapy hair and skin. Dennis squirmed as Sam ran the soap over his bony chest, and he squirmed more as Jake brushed that area while Sam worked a lather up on his back. Moving back to the other boy's lower stomach, Sam gave his genitals a wide berth, soaping the boy's thighs and then moving around to the flanks of his bare butt while Jake scrubbed the brush on Dinky's soapy back. Sister Magdalene frowned.

"Are you trying to try my patience, boy?" she asked. "I told you to soap every inch of this boy."

"But that's his...his..." Sam stuttered. "I can't touch his..."

"It's just another body part, like an arm or a leg," Sister Magdalene said serenely. "It's nothing special, no matter what you boys think. Now soap him there so we can finish before dusk!"

Sam hesitantly brushed the soap over Dinky's now flaccid genitals, then, gathering courage, began scrubbing the other boy's balls and cock like he'd done his back and stomach. Dinky began protesting.

"Shut up," Sister Magdalene snapped at Dennis. "You," she said to Sam. "Press harder down there."

Having no choice, Sam pressed harder. Dinky squirmed in discomfort but bit his lip to keep quiet as Sam finished and moved to his backside. But then he could hold still no more.

"It's burning!" he wailed suddenly. "My dick hole! It's burning!"

"I'm not surprised—it's carbolic soap. The burn means it's doing its job," Sister Magdalene said with a note of satisfaction in her voice. "You with the soap—move to the sides of his bottom, so your partner can scrub him where you just were." Dinky's protests turned to little squeals as Jake obeyed, dragging the stiff bristles over Dinky's ant-bitten, tender genitals. Finally Sister Magdalene seemed satisfied. "Now bend over, young man," she ordered. "And grip your ankles. That bottom of yours is disgusting and needs special attention." Grimacing again, Dennis bent slowly and gripped his ankles tightly, his butt opening and spreading wide, jutting out behind him. Jake and Sam were treated once again to the pimpled, bruised rear of the older but not much bigger boy. The boy's balls, bigger than those and slightly swollen, hung redly between his legs, the bruising of his lower butt from being kicked all the way to the office clearly visible. Dinky looked backwards at them between his legs. Sam leaned over his butt, putting a hand on Dinky's back to steady him, and began soaping the upper part of Dinky's butt crack. Behind them, Jake heard a sudden stifled giggle. Sam stopped soaping and looked up, and Jake whirled around. Standing 15 feet away, a group of older girls was standing watching the trio, their faces covered by hands to block their laughter. Sister Magdalene looked at them coolly. "Have you girls finished your chores?" she asked archly.

"Yes, Ma'am," one of the girls said quickly. "Yes, Ma'am, the others echoed.

"It's free time now," a third volunteered.

"Very well," Sister Magdalene said. "In that case, you're free to do as you like until suppertime. If you wish to remain here, though, you must not make noise and distract the boys from their work."

"Hey!" Dinky said from between his spread legs. He let go of his ankles and started to straighten up. Sister Magdalene glared at him.

"Keep your hands on your ankles, young man," she ordered. "And turn more this direction, so the sun is shining on your rear. We don't want the boys to miss anything. All three of you need to be your cleanest and look your best tonight!" She pointed, indicating that Dennis was to turn his butt toward the now sinking sun, which meant that he also would be turning it straight on to the watching girls, who were now finding places in the grass to sit comfortably and watch. Jake and Sam flushed with embarrassment as they realized there was no way to cover their genitals from the girls' open stares. Sam, blushing red down to his shoulders, went back to soaping the boy's upper crack, gradually moving the soap down until he was going back and forth over the boy's corrugated asshole. Jake scrubbed his upper crack. As Sam moved lower, to the pimpled skin between Dinky's butt hole and balls and his lower butt, Dinky began moaning loudly, his body stiffening.

"I believe I told you to shut up, young man," Sister Magdalene said primly. "You must learn to obey." She walked to the wet ground where the boys were standing, and Dinky was moaning. Grasping his hair, she yanked his head backward. When he opened his mouth to protest, she snatched the soap from Sam's hand and crammed it into the older boy's open mouth. Dinky snapped erect, letting go of his ankles. He gagged, clawing at his mouth, The soap fell to earth, and he leaned forward, spitting soapy drool and bits of soap onto the ground, coughing and gagging. He spit repeatedly, leaning forward with his hands on his knees, panting, his mouth frothing. Sister Magdalene leaned over and picked up the soap off the grass. "Would you like another mouthful, young man?" she asked. "Or will you be silent now?"

Dinky looked almost green, then he stolidly leaned forward and gripped his ankles tightly. Sister Magdalene handed the soap to Sam. "You may continue, young man," she said. "But before you move down to his ankles, you need to clean him out inside as well. Coat your first two fingers with as much soap as you can, and insert them inside the boy's anal orifice. Spread the soap around in there, then withdraw your fingers and coat them again. Keep doing that until your fingers come out clean."

Dinky opened his mouth to protest, thought better of it, and closed it again. Sam, looking a bit green himself, slowly coated his index and second fingers of his right hand with soap until they were white and glistening. He looked at the stern nun, then looked away, studied his target, and pressed his fingers against the tight slit in the center of the boy's bottom. The girls behind them were watching intently now, Jake could see. Sam hesitated, then pushed hard. Dinky moaned and his butt tightened, but Sam's fingers slid in easily, the slit widening to admit them without effort. Sam rotated his fingers left and then right and removed them, frowning when he saw that they came out tan rather than white. He wiped them clumsily on the other boy's lower butt flank, and began soaping again.

"Burns. It burns. It burns," Dinky was muttering to the ground. Sam ignored him and slid his two soapy fingers into the boy's butt again, all the way up to his palm. Dinky kept muttering his mantra, his butt twitching, as Sam repeated the process four more times. He finally held up two white fingers for Sister Magdalene's approval.

"Very well," Magdalene nodded. "Use the brush, and we'll move on." Dinky tensed and gripped his ankles tightly as Jake scrubbed his badly bruised lower butt and his pimpled asshole and perineum. It seemed that he scrubbed for a long time before Sister Magdalene nodded, but it must have been even longer for Dinky. "Straighten up, boy," she snapped. "Let them do your legs and feet."

"It still burns!" Dinky protested, standing up. The tip of his penis was now beet red and irritated looking, and his pee slit was an irritated almost purple. Both could be seen clearly, because the burning soap had given him still another raging erection. He clenched his buns tightly, fighting the burning there as well, as the boys cleaned his legs and feet. Then they moved to each of his arms, Dinky switching his button to the other hand while they scrubbed his palms. Sister Magdalene must have approved, because the icy water poured over the three boys suddenly, bringing squeals from Jake and Sam, and hosing the soap off Dinky. He was then ordered to turn his butt toward Sister Magdalene and grasp his ankles again while she played water over his butt crack and butthole, and then it was over.

"We have no towels," Sister Magdalene said. "Use your hands to wipe the water off you, starting at your heads and moving down. When you've reached your feet, you will do jumping jacks until the movement in the air has dried you."

It was humiliating brushing water off their bodies for all three boys, especially because Sister Magdalene ordered all three boys to brush their genitals and their butt cracks thoroughly when they tried to skip over them, bringing giggles from the girls, who seemed especially fascinated by Dinky's hard cock. All three boys turned their backs to the girls as they dried themselves, and kept that position once they started the jumping jacks, all three painfully aware of their bouncing penises and wiggling balls as they jumped and bounced over and over again. The girls calmly got up and moved to the other side, so they could see the boys' fronts. All three immediately tried to turn around, but Sister Magdalene was having none of that. "Just keep your backs to the sun, boys," she ordered. "Your bottoms will dry faster that way, and your boy parts don't need the sun—they'll get dry quickly with all the flopping about in the air they're doing."

All three boys were panting and exhausted, but warmer and mostly dry when they were allowed to stop the humiliating exercise. Dinky's hard on remained, his dick bobbing in front of him, and Sam's and Jake's organs, although floppy, were distended from the stimulation of hopping up and down. They stood there, flushed and embarrassed, strongly aware of the girls watching them with hungry eyes. Finally, Sister Magdalene spoke up. "Show's over, girls," she said. "You boys, come with me. You must get dressed for supper back at the compound." She headed toward the barn door, and the boys, eager to get away from the girls' superior, watching eyes, followed. At the barn door she stopped, reached inside, and come out with a stack of white cloth.

Underwear! Jake realized at once. He'd never been so happy to see underwear in his life. Sister Magdalene handed a set of briefs to him, one to Sam, and one to Dennis.

"Um, I wear boxers," Dennis said hesitantly.

"No, you don't," she snapped. "You wear what I give you. Now put those on. We must hurry."

Consciously aware of the girls who had followed them and were now watching with avid eyes, the boys turned their backs once again and tried to put their feet into the leg holes of the briefs without flashing too much of their butt cracks at the girls. Going to pull his up, Dinky suddenly showed dismay.

"Hey!" he said. "These are too small! They're, like, for toddlers or something!" He indicated the briefs he was trying to pull up. The front barely covered his hard penis, and the outer half of his butt cheeks were visible in the back. Jake and Sam, also trying to pull on their pairs, found that they fit similarly.

"Nonsense," Sister Magdalene rejoined. "They cover your boy parts and your bottom cleft. That's all that's important for now. Now come, we must walk to the main compound."

She set off at a rapid pace. They boys struggled to follow, the tight underpants cutting into the butt cracks of all three as they moved, their balls protesting the snug fit of the front. But there was no time for adjusting the fit—they all three had to run to catch up. They left the giggling girls behind in short order as they were hustled down the path back to the main compound. Soon they were approaching the main buildings. To Jake's momentary relief, they did not veer to the side and into the play yard where children were screaming and running and showing their usual exuberance before dinner, but rather skirted that populated area and made directly for the back of the administration building. Sister Magdalene glanced behind her for the first time, nodded when she saw the three panting boys half-running to keep up with her, and opened the main door, motioning them in. She didn't even appear to be breathing hard to Jake as he passed her, panting, and entered the main hallway. She shut the door firmly behind them, walked past, and gave Mother Superior's apartment door a firm knock. Jake didn't hear anything as he stood behind her with the other two boys, panting, but Sister Magdalene must have, because she turned the door handle and waved them inside.

Jake and Sam had never been in Mother Superior's private apartments before, and they were somewhat surprised at what they saw. Jake had been expecting a dark, paneled room with velvet furniture and thick carpets on the floor, a room with religious books lining one wall, a desk at the other—in short, a room a lot like Father McKenzie's study. Instead, this room was almost spare. The floors were shining bare wood, and the only furnishings were several simple but sturdy wooden chairs and a wooden bench with arms that faced the chairs in the middle of the room. An alter was set up on one side, candles burning on either side of a crucified Jesus, his side, hands and feet dripping detailed blood and his thorn-crowned head a picture of agony. Several pillows faced the altar, obviously for kneeling purposes, and pillows were also scattered around the room. By the wall with windows in it, Mother Superior hunched in prayer facing the windows, her cane resting on the ground beside her. Sister Magdalene paused a respectful distance behind her, bowing her head and waiting.

Jake's eyes continued around the room while they waited. When he got to the wall opposite the altar, his blood froze. An arrangement of punishment instruments were neatly distributed along the wall. There was a rack of canes, from short, whippy little sticks of 2 feet, stair-stepping all the way up to thick rods more than half an inch wide and 5 feet long. Next to the rack hung a huge assortment of paddles. Little thin things like paint stirrers, short, fat little round paddles, bigger round wooden instruments like ping-pong paddles, a collection of large and larger hair brushes, and then a row of oblong boards with tapered handles, ranging from barely 8 inches long to 2 foot monsters that would have to be swung with both hands. Below that set hung an identical set, except each of these had holes drilled in their surfaces, giving them a Swiss-cheese appearance. Further over, whips hung from a rack, some resembling the animal whips the girls had used on them to herd them, some thicker and with long, snaky ends, the last one braided into 9 separate tails. Under that rack was a rack of bottles. Only a few labels could be seen, but the appeared to be lotions and ointments of various kinds, including one Jake recognized, a muscle treatment known as Heet. He knew of Heet because his mother had a bottle of it. She'd once rubbed it on a sore calf of his and it had made his leg feel hot and tingly. He wondered what Mother Superior used it for — perhaps her arthritis.

There were two wooden contraptions standing out from the base of the wall in front of the assortment of paddles and whips, sturdy wooden devices with leather straps and belts hanging from them. Jake puzzled at the devices for a moment, and then realized that they were like the kneeling benches in the chapel, where one could place one's knees on the beam and lean onto the platform in front. Only these had straps to tied down a boy's arms, a strap that would go around the small of the back, and straps for legs and feet. They were clearly spanking or whipping benches, Jake realized to his horror. And next to those two, there was a more familiar pair of devices—the horses he and Sam had been tied to for their enemas. Jake shuddered seeing them again, and moved his gaze on. In the corner was a bucket that had three sets of what looked like green tree twigs stuck in it. The sets of branches were each bound tightly together at the base with leather thongs. Water gleamed in the bucket, soaking the lower parts of the branches.

Not able to fathom the use of those objects, Jake's gaze moved on to the back wall, opposite the windows. It was bare, completely bare. But the wooden floor in front of it was sprinkled liberally with different sets of things. On the left, it was covered with little white grains of something in an uneven patch near the wall. In the middle, the patch was of tiny pebbles, bigger than the grains, but not as big as the pebbles that lined the paths at the orphanage, and not rounded like them but more fragmented and broken looking. Then next to the door they'd come in, there was a third substance scattered liberally on the wooden floor --- the dried seeds of some sort of plant or tree, smaller than the pebbles, but bigger than the grains. Jake, not comprehending any of it, looked back at the other boys. Sam was scanning the room just as he had been. Dennis was looking at the floor, like he didn't want to see any of it, and his attitude made Jake actually shiver. The three boys stood uncomfortably, worrying about what was to come and feeling underdressed despite having their private areas covered. After more than a minute, Mother Superior muttered "Amen," and Sister Magdalene echoed her more loudly. The wiry old nun looked up and reached for her cane, pulling herself with effort onto her feet. She wavered a few moments, gripping her cane, then looked across at the three boys.

"I prayed for guidance earlier," she said sharply. "And God answered me. There willt be a display. After supper. For the girls only, of course. I have already chosen the proper girls to run it, girls with the right attitudes, Godly girls who see boys for what they are. And God has let me know that we must leave this to them, without interference. You will attend dinner with the rest of the children, just as you three are. After dinner, the boys will return to the barracks, and you three will be used as an object lesson in just how depraved and disgusting boys are. Thus our girls will know the truth about boys, and not the shameless lies of penny novels and of Hollywood movies."

The old, bent nun fixed the boys with a steely glare. Jake's testicles tried to climb into his body as her gaze moved up and down him and the other two boys. "I can see your souls, boys," she announced. "They are filled with the Devil's lies, rotten to the core. But at least we can use your depravity as a caution to our fine young ladies, who dwell in the grace of salvation." She pinned all three boys with her gaze, much as a butterfly is pinned to a display pad in a museum. Then she slowly raised her cane from the ground, pointing it at each of them in turn. "You, Samuel. And you, Jacob. And especially you, Dennis. You're all an affront and a disappointment to God. Your sins are heavy and will surely doom you to Hell. But tonight, you can begin to make your way back to salvation. By serving as an object lesson, you will be doing God's work, and you can continue to do God's work thereafter. By being obedient rather than recalcitrant. By asking how you can serve rather than how to avoid service."

She swept the cane across the trio of tense, frightened boys. "You will start with a simple task, tonight. The two girls in charge of tonight's demonstration know their task, and can be trusted to do what must be done. You three, in turn, will obey them instantly, and to the letter, just as you obey myself, and dear Mary Catherine, and Sister Magdalene, and Sister Grace, and Sister Chastity, and all the other nuns here. In fact, you will obey them more thoroughly than you have the rest of us up to this point. They will undoubtedly ask you to do things you'd rather not as they proceed with their demonstration, or things that you find painful or humiliating. But your suffering is necessary for your redemption, so you must do those things instantly and to the letter. If the girls do not report back to me that you were completely obedient throughout the demonstration this evening, there will be consequences that are beyond what you could possible imagine."

She turned and smiled at Sister Magdalene, and to Jake the smile was like that of a beast who has cornered a tasty morsel and is preparing to savor it. "Because they probably can't imagine the consequences, I've prepared a little demonstration," the old nun continued. "I just got back from the film laboratories at the archdiocese a very special film that I arranged to have made here some time back. It's a very complex production requiring three cameras, much complex lighting, and a great deal of editing to produce. It lacks sound, I'm afraid, because such capabilities are beyond our limited resources. But the picture quality is extremely good—quite graphic, actually. I believe you boys will find it eye opening. If you'll follow me." She turned and, leaning on her cane, headed toward a door at the side of the room.

Sister Magdalene pointed for the three scantily-clad boys to follow. The next room was windowless and quite dim. Projection apparatus was set up at one end, and a large screen at the other. Mother Superior indicated that the boys were to sit on three hard-backed chairs just ahead of the projector. The three complied, Dennis wincing as his sore posterior contacted the chair and the squirming once he was seated, trying to find a less painful spot. Jake and Sam also found the chairs uncomfortable—their bottoms were still achy from all the spankings they'd gotten, as well as from the still-healing needle tracks, especially the one between their legs. Sister Magdalene took up a position next to the projector as Mother Superior closed the door firmly, plunging the room into darkness.

"This film shows what will happen to any of you boys who does not show instant obedience tonight at the display," the old nun intoned behind them. "Any lack of compliance will result in you earning this punishment, to be administered immediately after the display has finished. Multiple acts of disobedience will earn you longer sessions of this punishment, and egregious disobedience will earn you several of these over a multi-day period. Sister, if you would please start the film?"

The projector behind them whirred loudly and the screen came to life, the numbers 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, counting down all the way to one appearing second by second. A title page appeared. "Proper Punishment of Older Boys," the title read in large block letters. It remained there for some seconds, then was replaced by a second title card, which read, simply, "Birching." Jake, Sam, and Dennis all stared at the screen, trying to absorb the meaning of the titles. As they did, the title disappeared and an outdoor view appeared, an open pasture surrounded by trees. A wooden apparatus was in the center of the view, and the camera approached it. It took a few moments, but all three boys gradually realized they were looking at the wooden bench thing they'd seen in the other room, with the straps for arms and legs and the kneeling bar at the base. The camera moved up until the device filled the screen. Then there was motion on one side, and a boy was marched in from one side. He was almost naked, with just some sort of cloth wrapping around his waist, covering his buttocks and genitals. The trio stopped in front of the bench, and the camera moved to the side, catching the process in profile. At a signal from the nuns framing each side of him, the boy knelt on the kneeling bar at the front of the bench. The nuns prodded his knees apart until they were quite widely spaced, and then his legs were quickly strapped down at the knees. The nun on the near side of the film moved out of the way of the camera, while the one on the far side pressed the boy on his back and he leaned forward, looking sick and frightened, as she pulled his hands out and strapped them down at the wrist, one at a time, reaching out in front of him. No move was made to restrain his midsection though, as he was bent over with his scantily-clad buttocks jutting outward. The boy appeared to be free to move his body between his wrists and his knees at will.

There was a quick cut to the boy's face. Jake could feel his heart rate climbing as the camera studied the boy's face - there was sick apprehension there, and the camera caught all of it. The boy's face, slightly more adolescent than their own faces, showed sweat on the upper lip and a trembling chin—clearly he was extremely frightened of what was to come. The camera pulled in to his frightened eyes, then there was a cut to behind the boy, as a camera zoomed in on his swaddled buttocks. The nun on the far side reached under the boy's midsection and did something complicated to the cloth, and it fell loose and was whisked away, revealing the boy's bare butt full on to the camera. His buttocks were fleshy but looked unmarred, save a small pimple high on one cheek near the deep cleft. The bend of the boy meant that his buttocks were parted and his anus and genitals were clearly displayed. His butt hold was larger than Dinky's had been, a longer tight slit surrounded by a ridge of wrinkled muscle that twitched with the boy's fear. The line down from his butt hole to his balls was prominent even in black and white. His balls were big compared to Jake's and even to Dinky's—a tight, plump sack like a small half of a baseball clinging to the boy's crotch. The tip of a circumcised penis could be seen dangling beyond it between the boy's legs, thicker than Dinky's organ even though it was clearly currently flaccid. It moved with the boy's uncomfortable shifts in position, swaying from side to side gently.

The nun on the far side had knelt and was reaching for a leather strap down by the kneeling board. She obtained it and brought it up, where the three boys soon realized that it had a second piece of leather tied to it, a thin piece like a noose. Circling his balls with her hands from the front side, so as not to block the camera view, she pressed his plump orbs down from his body and circled the noose above them, pulling it tight until the boy's balls were taut against the bottom of his sack, stretching away from the body. The camera view cut to the boy's face, which showed first apprehension and then a stark reaction, evidently as his balls were grasped and then cinched. His lips made a pronounced "O" as he realized the seriousness of his fate - he could easily move his body, but to do so would mean yanking on his balls in what appeared to be a very painful fashion. The camera cut back to the view of his butt, and he could be seen tensing slightly and moving just a little, exploring the consequences to his plump sack. He quickly stopped the twitching and assumed a rigid stance, trying not to move at all.

"He is ready," Mother Superior intoned behind them. All three boys, tense at the sight in front of them, jumped on their chairs. "Now it begins," she added.