The Orphanage Boys Chapter 3

The Orphanage Boys Chapter 3
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 3: The Third Floor: Juvenile Apparel

Sam was creeping through the orphanage quad, near the play yards, sticking close to the buildings as he went. There were children still in the play yard, and he didn't want them to see him. And he certainly didn't want any of the sisters seeing him. His butt throbbed and itched from the two spankings he and Jake had received already, those humiliating and painful sessions that had already brought the two of them so much ridicule. He felt guilty about running away without Jake, but Jake wouldn't wake when he snuck out, and he couldn't take the chance of trying harder to awaken him and getting caught. Just to add to his misery, he had to pee - he had to pee so badly that it felt like a burn inside him, somewhere at the base of his dick. It was the kind of pee urgency that gave young boys insistent stiffies, and Sam had just such a stiffy. And the pee urgency had him almost to the point where he'd have to grab himself and squeeze to stop it. If he could just find a quiet, dark corner of a building somewhere, where he could pull his dick out and pee before he slipped off the grounds. Suddenly he realized he'd set his pack down somewhere, the pack with all the things he'd brought from home in it. All of his prized possessions - his harmonica, his few misshapen marbles, his warmer coat for on the road, even his changes of underwear were in there! He racked his brain, trying to remember where he'd left it, but he couldn't. The urge to pee was almost overwhelming but every direction he looked either had children in it, talking and laughing, or was brightly lit. Sister Grace was crossing the yard, and he ducked into an alcove between buildings. He couldn't wait anymore - he was about to wet himself, and he couldn't start out his flight by peeing his pants. It would be warm at first, sure, but then it would get cold, cold and wet and uncomfortable. And the pee would probably burn his sore butt if he got it on it, too. He pushed up against the wall and reached down to pull down his zipper, and that's when he realized that he didn't have his pants on! He didn't have any underwear on, either, or any shirt or socks or shoes! He was in the yard, naked, and he had to pee so bad that he had a full-fledged stiffy, the kind that points up to your belly. His butt throbbed, and his need to pee burned, and he forced his hard dick down and pee gushed out of him. Suddenly the children who'd been across the yard were there, gathered around him, pointing and laughing at his dick and at the little boy who peed out in the open. And then Sister Mary Catherine was bearing down on him, her face grim and a giant paddle in her hand, and he knew, just knew, she was going to beat his butt to a pulp with it right there.

And he awoke with a start. The sun was just peeping through the dorm windows, and around him, in the shadows, boys were asleep, some snoring loudly or lightly, some just breathing heavily, mounds in sheets or splayed across the bed in contorted positions. His buddy Jake was there in the bed next to his, on his back, his sheet pushed to the floor, naked, legs akimbo, and with a miniature stiffy pointed at the ceiling, a rigid little pole with the tip sticking just out of the hood of the foreskin. Sam remembered that he'd had to pee in his dream, had needed to pee so bad that he'd done it outside, in the open, and all the kids had been watching. But he didn't have to pee now, and he knew why with a sinking dread. Because under his midsection it was hot and wet and squishy, and a wet patch spread in a circle surrounding his crotch, soaking his lower belly, wetting his thighs, and steaming around tightly sack. He'd wet the bed! He hadn't wet the bed in years! As far as he knew, nobody wet the bed in the older boys' dorm! (He hadn't been in the orphanage long enough to know that there were no bed wetters at the moment because bed wetters were often moved to the little boys' dorm in shame, where they could be diapered nightly with the other little boys.)

Jake stirred, moaned softly, and turned over, his hand reaching back to his butt as he did and softly exploring it. He opened his eyes. "Still hurts," he muttered to Sam across the divide between the beds. Like Sam, he was stark naked, the two of them opting to sleep nude last night rather than have anything on their extremely sore butts, even a sheet. "Gotta pee," he whispered, starting to get up. "Maybe poop, too. Quick, come on, while no one's up to see us."

Both boys hated the open toilets, where a boy taking a dump could be seen by everyone who came in and out, including their house mother Sister Grace.

Sam remained firmly face down on the bed, trying to cover the wet spot. Jake stood, stretched, looked at Sam quizzically, then noticed the soaked sheet around Sam's middle.

"You wet the bed!" he hissed.

"Shhhhhh!" Sam said.

The fat boy on the other side opened his eyes. "He wet the bed?" he said, sitting up, looking interested. "Wow, he really did!"

Sam stayed in place, hoping the wet spot would go away. "This is bad," Jake whispered. "This is real bad."

"You gotta tell Sister Grace," the fat boy said. "Everyone who pisses the bed has to tell Sister Grace."

"What happens when he tells Sister Grace?" Jake asked.

"He gets sent to the babies, I think," the boy said. "You know, the little pukes. The pants wetters. That's what happened to the last kid who pissed in his bed."

"I don't want Sam to go," Jake said, distressed. "Can't we hide it or something?."

The fat boy got up, leaned over Sam lying on his front in the bed trying in vain to cover the wet spot, and shoved Sam over on his back so he could see the bed. Sam, taken by surprise, let himself be rolled over. Unlike Jake, who still sported a piss hard-on, Sam's penis was shunken and pee-damp, sticking to one leg looking pathetic, like a tiny lap dog that's pissed on the carpet and is now cowering by the easy chair. The fat boy looked at the wet spot. "Nope," he said. "It's soaked all the way through to the mattress. You've got to tell Sister Grace before Flip finds out, or he'll punish you himself. And he gets to slipper us guys for stuff like this - even bare if he can make a good excuse to the sisters. You wouldn't want that even if your butt wasn't already blistered."

"I'll go get Sister Grace," the boy said after a minute. "You two stay here." He began waddling across the room toward the door, huge pajamas flapping in his wake. Jake glanced over at Flip's corner of the room, relieved to see him and his prefect and the rest of his buddies still buried in sheets, inert. He went to his chest, found his only remaining pair of underwear, and slipped it on.

"Better put on something," he whispered to Sam. "Sister Grace will be here in a minute - you don't want her seeing your little doodle."

"Your little doodle," was how Sam's mother had always referred to his and Jake's penises, even though Jake's mother had called them dicks. "I'm sick of dicks," she'd always said. "And something that cute should have a cute name." The memory brought a brief smile to Sam's face, but he sobered again quickly.

"I'm all pissy," he said. "I can't put underwear on when I'm pissy. Since she took our others it's the only pair I've got left. Besides, she sees us in the shower all the time - she stands right there and controls the water and tells us to wash, remember? She's already seen our stuff."

"Suit yourself," Jake said, dancing slightly in his dingy gray briefs, still having to pee so badly he couldn't stand still. "Or in this case, don't suit yourself, I guess. I still gotta pee." He raced off to the bathroom and Sam turned back onto his stomach, in part to cover the embarrassing wet spot and his now cooling, guilty little penis.

Jake slipped into the empty, quiet bathroom. He had to poop, not just pee, and he had to do it before other kids got up to witness him huddling over the toilet trying to do his business. He selected the toilet closest to the door, yanked down his underpants, and settled gingerly on the seat. His butt protested in agony immediately at being sat on, tightening his sphincter and blocking any possibility of relief. In fact, the whole need to poop just sort of slid right back into his body, like he'd reabsorbed it or something. Shrugging, he got up, pulled his underpants back up, and hustled across the room to pee, remembering just in time something Sister Grace had told him and Sam the first day, that boys who peed standing up at the toilets rather than using the urinals got slippered by the prefect or the head boy.

As Jake hustled back, a small wet spot on the front of his underpants betraying his haste, the door opened across the room and Sister Grace hustled in, the fat boy trailing her. In moments she was staring with distaste at Sam's bed. "Oh dear," she said out loud, waking boys around her. "This will not do at all. I should have expected it, though - boys who are severely spanked often lose control like this at night - the muscles near the orifice spasm, and the orifice cannot hold."

She prodded Sam off the wet spot, showing clear disapproval at its extent. He'd always been a big wetter. He'd taken longer to stop peeing the bed at night than Jake had, and he'd always loved Jake for the fact that Jake never complained when he'd peed on his friend when the two were snuggled together for warmth in the cold night, making so both of them had to be washed in the mornings. He could win every peeing contest he and Jake had, and he had even beat most other boys at peeing contests, partially because he could pee farther than them because he could pee longer, and thus had more time to really get his muscles behind it. In games where they peed the dirt off walls or poop streaks off the toilet bowl, he'd always put Jake to shame.

But because of that, he'd wet the bed, and his humiliation was substantial. Boys around them were sitting up to see what the commotion was, and whispering to each other about the soaking he'd given himself and his bed. There was action in Flip's corner, and he got up and ambled over in rumbled pajamas. "You want I should discipline him?" he asked, his eyes gleaming evilly. "I can get my slipper and do it right here."

"Not in this case," Sister Grace said archly, to Flip's disappointment. "The poor little guys can't help it if they lose control after one of Sister Mary Catherine's bare bollocks roastings. You would all probably do the same. However, we can't have his lack of control, or loss of control by his partner in crime, either, damaging school property. But we can't move them into the dorm with the other wetters while they're on the escalator. We'll just have to deal with this after showers. So we'll have to start the morning right now. Rouse your boys and get them into the shower now - we must move it along if we're not going to be late for breakfast. I fear the water may be a bit cold yet, but that's the price one pays. I'll go rouse the other dorm, because you all must shower together."

Boys, groaning and silent, rolled out of bed and slipped off underpants. Some stood right in the open and stripped, letting their tiny or pudgy or fat little cocks bounce around for all to see, whereas others huddled against walls or partially behind their chests at the foot of the bed, holding hands or pajamas in front of their genitals to block Sister Grace's view, or standing behind other boys. Never touching their genitals, of course—the punishments for self abuse were made clear to every boy on the day of their arrival. Of course, the shy ones couldn't completely avoid being seen - they all had to stand naked in the shower room, four to a shower head, along with the smaller boys from the other room, and wait for Sister Grace to turn on the water with the big valve and adjust the temperature. And they also had to get towels from her afterward, standing in a line according to prestige (that made Jake and Sam in the middle of the line - after all the boys in their dorm, but ahead of all the boys in the smaller boys' dorm).

That meant the two of them were left, standing, shivering as all the other boys took theirs first, the more shy boys wrapping towels around the waist immediately to cover bare butts and genitals, the less modest ones drying faces and hair first and letting their genitals flap and their butts shift and bob. During the shower there had been much attention to both boys' dusky red butts. (They had been bright red immediately after their spankings and for that evening, but had darkened in color over night as the deeper bruising became visible and the irritated surface skin settled down.) The smaller boys, especially, had been interested, crowding around the two while they waited for towels, some even venturing to brush a hand across bumpy, tender skin. When Jake had tried to brush them off, Sister Grace had admonished, "Let them look and touch as they want - they're curious, and they need to know what happens to boys who show uncontrolled lust."

Word had also passed that Sam had "peed the bed," the previous night, other boys looking at him as they heard as if someone had just told them that he'd reabsorbed his dick or something. So both of them were surrounded by whispers and laughter, and a dozen or more small hands touching, probing, and in Jake's case, a boy behind him in line who, while they were stopped, waiting, had squatted, still naked from the shower, and forced Jake's buns apart (an uncomfortable process because of how sore his butt still was from being spanked bare), and whispered to call the other little boys' attention to how deep into his butt crack the spanking went, "Look, it goes all the way to his hole!"

"What was that, Mr. Snell?" Sister Grace asked archly, only about three people up in line from them now.

The boy arose from where he'd been squatting, oblivious to how he'd looked on his haunches with his genitals dangling (genitals that Jake realized, to his chagrin, might be bigger than his at the moment). "I was just telling the other boys to look at what a fine job, thorough Sister Mary Catherine had done in chastising this one," The boy said with an angelic look on his face.

"Sister takes great pride in her work," Sister Grace said primly. "We could all learn a lesson from her." Sam and Jake were next in line. She waved them to the side and handed towels to all the smaller boys as Sam and Jake stood shivering, their small penises becoming smaller in the cold. "Now you boys all scamper off and get dressed for breakfast," she said. She turned to Sam and Jake, still not handing them towels. "I cannot have you two wetting on school property," she said primly.

"But I didn't wet the bed!" Jake protested.

"I won't do it again, honest," Sam said at the same time. "It was an accident."

"But you very well might," Sister Grace said to Jake. She turned to Sam. "Accidents still have consequences. You've already wet your bed. What if you wet your pants and the chair and the floor in the classroom? We can't take that chance." Sister Grace said. Jake and Sam stood, dismayed at the direction this conversation was going as well as still naked, cold, and dripping. Their genitals had retreated inside their bodies, leaving only a finger of foreskin projecting over tight, wrinkled sacks that were clinging tightly to their bodies. Looking down briefly, Jake was surprised to notice that his balls, now clearly outlined by his tight sack, were perhaps half again as big as Sam's. When had that happened? Was that why he had some pubic hairs and Sam didn't?

Jake's butt was cold, too, and somehow that made it feel more sore from the long bare spanking he'd received as well as the paddling the day before on his underwear. Sister Grace, walked around the two in a circle, studying their bodies. She stopped behind them, looking at their dusky red bottoms as they hunched, shivering. She finally handed each of them a towel, and they began drying off. The other boys had dried already and were all out of the room, laughing and talking in the dorms as they dressed. Jake finished drying his hair and started to wrap the towel around his waist as the boys all did on their way back to their bunks. Sam spoke up. "I think I have to go number 2," he said.

Sister Grace pursed her lips. "That time to do that, young man, was before your shower. It's positively sinful to wash yourself and then immediately dirty yourself like that. I won't have it. You'll just have to wait, now - we have much to do and very little time. Now give me those towels and come with me, both of you." Jake and Sam reluctantly released their towels and let Sister Grace lead them out of the room, back into the noisy dorm full of half-dressed boys. Every head swiveled to watch the two boys make their naked walk across the dorm behind the small nun, some boys smirking at their shrunken genitals, others shivering in response to their still obviously still very sore butts, perhaps remembering the sight of each boy yesterday going in turn over the desk and having their underpants lowered and their bare butt spanked while everyone, even the girls, watched.

Sam and Jake found the pace a bit rapid for their sore bottoms. Their whole backsides tended to ache when they walked quickly, their butts complaining at being forced to stretch and flex and propel their legs along. But then they were by their beds, Sister Grade frowning at the wet spot on Sam's. "Sit on the clean bunk," she said, pointing. "Don't move. I'll be back with the bag in a minute," she said, leaving the room. The other boys were nearly all dressed, now, and they began gathering toward Jake's bed, forming rings of boys facing inward, conversations dying. They were clearly expecting something to happen. Jake and Sam felt highly self-conscious standing there naked, the target of gaze of all these clothed boys. Flip was watching them with crossed arms from the outer circle, a smirk plastered on his face. Jake felt like shivering as he hugged his crossed arms to himself. A long moment passed, then Sister Grace threw open the door and strode back across the room, carrying a large bag like a big knitting bag. "I have all the things here," she said. "We'll have you two fixed up in a minute. Lie back on your backs, please. You can keep your feet on the floor for the moment.

Puzzled, Jake and Sam complied. A number of the boys were grinning now, anticipating something that the two supine boys didn't yet get. The two boys craned their necks to look up at Sister Grace, their feet bottoms now flat on the cold floor, their knees bent, their butts on one edge of the narrow bunk, their heads on the other.

"Now lift your legs into position," Sister Grace said. "So I can prepare you."

"Huh?" Jake and Sam said together. Sister Grace sighed. "I suppose you don't know what to do." She looked around the room, pointed to a smallish but sturdy little redhead. "You, Phillip! Come here." Phillip detached himself from his friends and walked over to Sister Grace. "Get on the bed next to them and show them how to do it - if I remember, you've had plenty of practice not that long ago.

Little Phillip flushed, and on his light skin it glowed redly. He looked at Sam's bed. "But it's got pee on it," he said. "That guy's pee!" He pointed to Sam.

"Not that bunk," Sister Grace said. "This one over here." She pointed to the fat boy's bed, now neatly made up for the day. Phillip walked to the bunk and stretched across it face up just as Jake and Sam were, except he was fully clothed rather than naked. Then, slowly, he lifted both his legs off the floor and brought them up by his head, grasping his thighs under the knees with both hands and spreading them as wide as they'd go, so that his pants stretched out and his small lump bulged his pants between his legs. Sam and Jake exchanged glances, aghast. They were supposed to do that in front of all these boys? Make themselves that open and exposed? Everything would show if they did that! Their dicks, their balls, their well-spanked butts, their holes...

"Come on, boys," Sister Grace said. "We haven't got all day. I need to diaper both of you so we can get started.

Diaper? Jake and Sam's heads snapped around to stare at Sister Grace. "Whaddaya mean, diaper?" Sam squawked.

"I'm sure you're familiar with diapers," Sister Grace said, pulling a stack of folded cloth out of the bag. "They catch the wastes of incontinent little boys and girls so that school property is protected. Given last night's incident, I've decided you two had best wear them for the foreseeable future. Now get those legs up and over and stick those bottoms way, way up!"

"But.. I don't...I'm 12!" Sam protested. "I don't piss myself during the day, and last night was just an accident."

Sister Grace's lips pursed. "We do not use that vulgar, naughty word here, young man. I will inform Sister Mary Catherine about your vulgar mouth so she may deal with it this afternoon at your next punishment. And it doesn't matter if you're 12 or 22 -- little boys who wet the beds in school wear diapers. I understand perfectly well you didn't mean to do it - little boys, especially, sometimes have muscle spasms after severe spankings that can cause them to lose bladder or even bowel control, and you've both had two severe spankings, so it's best not to take any chances today with either of you. Normally, you'd be moved to the little boys' dorm while you were in diapers, but given that you're doing the escalator, it would be best if you stayed with your peers." Sam and Jake still lay on the bed, about 2 feet apart, trying to absorb this information. "Now, legs up," Sister Grace ordered.

Sam and Jake looked at her in dismay. Both were thinking the same thing - if they lifted their legs, their most private place would be on display - their butt holes. It wasn't so bad having other kids see your bare butt, or your dick and balls - but showing another kid your butt hole was humiliating. Other boys never saw your butt hole - no one did. Wiping on the open toilets was embarrassing enough, with everyone watching while you were touching your butt hole. But letting people, even other boys, see it?

"Perhaps the head boy had best get the slipper," Sister Grace said. Flip looked positively gleeful, turning toward his bunk and starting away. Sam and Jake swiftly lifted their legs and brought them up to the humiliating position she'd specified, each of them moaning slightly as their cramped, sore butts were stretched unmercifully. "Never mind the slipper," Sister Grace said. Flip, disappointed, stalked back to the circle.

Sam, looking straight ahead, discovered he was looking right at his own lower tummy and his bare crotch, his little penis still just a fleshy finger in the cold dorm air. His balls were just a wrinkled patch of skin, and the insides of this thighs a stark white in contrast the little hint of his butt he could see under his balls, which was quite a dark red from his two long spankings. He realized that the boys watching could see every single embarrassing part of him and Jake -his privates, his butt hole, everything. Glancing to his right, he saw that Jake's penis was only a little fleshy point of foreskin, the rest having disappeared into his body as well. But now Same noticed something Jake had noticed earlier. His friend's balls were visible bigger than his! They'd been the same size the last time he'd bothered to compare. Did it have something to do with the dozen or so hairs Jake had so suddenly sprouted a month or so back?

Sister Grace unfolded three diapers and slid them under Jake's butt, then unfolded three more and slipped them under Sam's. She then fished out her glass bottle of baby oil, dumped a generous quantity into her palm, immediately spreading it out over Sam's butt, making him wince as his sore butt reminded him that it didn't take kindly to being spanked all the time. She coated his inner thighs, rubbed a generous amount into his butt hole, which tickled, and then moved to his front, taking another handful of oil and rubbing it all over his genitals, shoving his finger of a penis here and there, pressing into his balls, and then generously and slowly massaging the whole area. She then repeated the whole process, starting with his butt and butt hole and ending with his genitals again. The soft feminine hand caressing his boy parts had its effect - by the time she'd finished the second massage of his genitals, his penis had come to life and was standing at attention, curved toward his face. Boys were giggling and whispering all of the room, some pointing at his stiffy openly. Some of the smaller boys were clearly giving his organ envious looks.

Sister Grace moved to Jake and started to pour lotion, then stopped. "Oh, dear," she said. "We'll have to take some corrective hygiene action before I can do this one." She pointed to Jake's exposed pubic triangle above his now hiding penis. "We can't have that," she said. "Not in a diaper boy."

Jake looked at himself to see what "that" was, and realized Sister Grace was pointing to his 12 or so pubic hairs, a recent source of great pride for him. Sister Grace looked for somewhere to put the baby oil she'd poured out, and decided Sam was the best target, giving him a third butt and genital massage that hat his little wiener jumping and tingling in a most intriguing fashion. Sam was actually disappointed when she stopped and was fishing in her bag again. Like all little boys, he'd handled his penis and touched and rubbed in on occasion, making it hard and enjoying the special feelings it gave him. But he always stopped soon after it got hard, because the tickly feeling became too much to bear. But Sister Grace had continued beyond that feeling, and the tickles had started feeling more bearable as she continued, and had even started feeling seriously good. He wondered, now, what would happen if she'd continued. It certainly felt like something might have.

"Here were go," Sister Grace said, breaking Sam's train of thought. "In cases like this where there are so few of them, I prefer to get to the root of the problem." She held up a pair of common household pliers. "Shaving only lasts a few days, but this will work for weeks." Jake had a bad feeling, realization dawning on him what the pliers were for.

Sister Grace went on. "You boys behind him had best hold his arms," she said. Before he could react, Jake found his hands and arms gripped by 4 of the bigger boys, forcing him to keep gripping his legs over his head. "Now hold still, boy, and try not to act like a baby. This stings a bit, but not nearly as badly as Sister Mary Catherine's paddle." She moved the pliers over his crotch, lowered the jaws to touch his quivering flesh, and closed them on the top-most hair that was the source of Jake's pride. There was a swift movement on her part and a brief stab of pain, and Jake's pubic hair came out by the roots.

"Owww!" Jake complained. He yanked at the boys holding his arms, but he was unable to free his arms or legs, although he did make his pelvis jerk around, disturbing Sister Grace's attempt to target the next innocent brown hair on his pubes. She slapped him gently but firmly on the inner thigh. "Hold still, young man!" She ordered. "You don't have that many, but I haven't got all day, either. If I have to get Sister Mary Catherine, I'm pretty sure she'll take you for an additional session to the glass room."

Jake cringed stopped thrashing. It was such a humiliating position to be in. Sam was looking at him with sympathy, but he couldn't meet his friend's eyes. He'd waited forever to grow hair there, and he'd been the first of the two of them! And now, one by one, Sister Grace was taking his new manhood away!

Methodically, Sister Grace found and clamped down on every one of Jake's new pubic hairs, and one by one his groin assumed a 3rd grader's smooth innocence. Jake felt like crying. It wasn't that it hurt so bad - shots were worse, and spankings much more so. But losing his hairs so soon, after finally getting them! What had sister Grace said? They take weeks to grow back? He bit his lip, his eyes showing his hurt, as she pulled out the last one, the longest one, the one right at the base of the top of his penis. It had been the one thing he'd had over those little boys he and Sam shared a shower head with, the biggest of the younger boys. They were as tall as him and Sam, and, if anything, had bigger dicks, and bigger balls than Sam, at least. But Jake had hair, and that had meant something.

Sister Grace started to put her pliers away, then stopped. "Oh, dear, there's another of those nasty things," she said. She raised the pliers again, this time pressing the cold jaws right against the bottom of Jake's butt hole, right where it joined the soft skin between his legs. He hadn't noticed he had a hair there, in that vulnerable place. He liked the soft skin between his legs, with the prominent ridge running down the middle, like a dividing line for his body, a line that continued up his scrotum. Before he'd come to the orphanage, he'd sometimes touch himself there at night, enjoying the feeling of the skin and the ridge and his tight balls in their thick sack, and the tingle the touch gave to his dick. The jaws shifted, the cold jaws against the top edge of his hole.

"No, please," Jake whispered, but the pliers yanked, there was a quick sting that felt like it was right on his butt hole itself, and Sister Grace looked at the pliers in satisfaction. "That was a nasty one," she said. "Look at the root on it!" Boys near her stared at the hair she'd just plucked out of Jake's butt crack with fascination. Sister Grace put the pliers away, picking up her oil. Jake then got the same treatment Sam had gotten - a vigorous massage of his sore hindquarters, including firm, intimate touches of his anus, then a thorough massage of his genitals that made his balls ache a bit but had his little peenie standing at attention, pointing straight at the ceiling with the tip and its tight pee slit visible under the hood of the foreskin. The contrast between his erect penis, pointing straight up, and Sam's, curved toward his belly, was visible to everyone, and everyone now knew who was longer when erect. (Both boys had measured each other's penises both soft and erect when they'd been alone a few months ago, so both knew Sam's was longer erect, scaling out to almost 3 inches, while Jakes was a pudgy little soldier barely over 2 inches long.) But Jake had taken solace in the fact that his was slightly wider. Now, though, bare in front of these boys, he realized how inadequate that solace was.

"Now I just have to do the two of you up," Sister Grace said. She expertly folded the three diapers, one at a time, tucking them neatly around Sam's still erect penis. The diapers were oversized, and thus she was able cover his penis with cloth to spare even with it folded neatly toward his belly. Pulling large diaper pins with duckies on them out of the pockets her habit, she pinned the diapers tightly to the boy, three pins on each side so as to try to minimize leaks around the legs, and yet the top was also tightly bound around his genitals as well. "You may put your legs down," she said to Sam, moving to Jake. She folded the diapers just as tightly around Jake's shorter penis, and pinned him up just as she had Sam. Both boys now sported rounded, exaggerated butts and bulging crotches of white diaper material, making them both look exceedingly juvenile. But Sister Grace wasn't done yet. She pulled large, big boy rubber pants out of the bag and stretched them over each boy's butt, the rubber making the already stifling layers of cloth around the boys' butts and genitals even more stifling. Both boys' butts and genitals began to sweat, and the sweat stung their sore butts just enough to be irritating.

"Get up and stand by the bed," Sister Grace ordered. The boys got to their feet, the large amount of cloth between their legs making them stand almost bow-legged. Sister Grace pulled a shirt out of the bag and pulled it over Sam's unresisting form, and Sam, in a reflex learned from when he was a little boy, slipped his arms through the arms of the shirt without thought. Sister Grace was slipping a second shirt over Jake's head when Sam finally looked down at the shirt. The shirt was dark blue, matching the rubber pants he and Jake had on. A cartoon figure of a crying baby in prominent diapers decorated the shirt, and under the picture, in large letters, were the words, "Diaper Baby."

Sam looked at the front of his shirt with dawning horror, then turned and saw that Jake had on a matching shirt. Sister Grace raised a finger, anticipating their objections. "Diaper Babies have to wear shirts identifying them so their teachers know that they need to be checked and changed periodically," she said. "It should be a comfort to you! Now if either of you lose control during the day, like you did last night, school property is protected." She smiled brightly, as if that as the only thing that mattered. The boys in a circle around them were grinning, mostly, and some were snickering at the two diaper babies in their midst.

"But I didn't wet the bed," Jake said.

"But you might - your little boyfriend did," she replied, totally unaware of the snickers her wording caused. "So Mother Superior agreed you should both be diapered until the escalator is over for you. Now put on your socks and shoes and let's get to breakfast."

Jake and Sam had to waddle, looking much like very big babies as they proceeded to the dining hall. As they joined other groups of kids, giggles and laughter were heard everywhere. Finally, though, they were seated on their heavily padded butts at the table as Mother Superior gave the morning prayers. The rubber pants didn't breathe at all, and both boys felt like their genitals and butts were in a sauna. The sweat made their butts itch and burn, and their genitals itch as well, but at least their butts were on some padding on the hard bench, and that helped them not ache quite as much. But now a new surprise awaited them. Instead of lunch trays, both boys received large mason jars, with giant nipples on the top, full of a thick, beige colored gruel.

"They always give diaper babies baby calf bottles from the barns," the girl across from them whispered as her friends giggled at the boys and their red, embarrassed faces. "You have to suck on them like real bottles, and you have to drink it all or you get punished. Well, in your case, more punished, I guess. Just pick it up and suck on it. And try not to think about the fact baby calves suck on them."

"Like you suck the piss off of each other's dicks," one of Flip's buddies said from behind them. "But the nipples are bigger." He smirked at the boys and moved on to sit by Flip down the line with his tray.

Jake picked the bottle up and looked at it dubiously. Seeing Mother Superior frowning at him and Sam from her seat across the way, he tipped the bottle up and took the large nipple in. The thing was, it did look kind of like Sam's penis, in length and width (although it wasn't curved). He couldn't understand the other boy's comment—why would anyone put their mouth on someone's dick? There didn't seem to be any point to it, unless it was a punishment, meant to humiliate the boy who had to do it. He hoped that didn't mean Sister Mary Catherine was going to make him do that with Sam! He liked Sam better than anyone in the world, but he wouldn't want Sam's pee thing in his mouth!

Beside him, Sam valiantly took up his bottle, too. Jake gave a preliminary chomp to the nipple, but nothing came out. He put some suction in it, and sucked harder. He was rewarded with a stream of thick goo, which tasted sort of like oatmeal. It really wasn't that bad, and he was hungry, so he set to work sucking hard, trying to empty the bottle. Beside him, Sam was also working at his own nipple, making the occasional embarrassing noises like kissing or slurping noises as he did. Both boys found that their jaw muscles tired quickly, and they had to rest periodically. Around them, children ate eggs and toast with relish, and Jake and Sam eyed them jealously while resting their tired jaws. Finally, though, both bottles were empty, and they joined the other children in the line for turning in their breakfast equipment for washing. Sister Grace came purposefully up to them. "Have the dishwashers rinse those out and fill them with water," she said to the boys. "You two will need lots of fluid today. Drink from the bottles all morning, and make sure you finish the whole amount before lunch. Get them refilled after lunch and drink another bottleful before the end of the school day. I'll be at your classroom to take you to your next punishments in the glass room after that."

Jake's spirits sank again as he was reminded that something horrible awaited them at the end of the school day. From the look on Sam's face, it was clear that his diapered friend was also scared. What did await them today, the next step on the escalator?