Strings and Sacks, Inc.

Strings and Sacks, Inc. - Chapter 8
By Sir Cum Sizemore

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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 8

"Good morning, Sharon. You ready to get those thongs finished?" Andrea greeted her friend. Standing right behind her was her naked son who gave her the cursory hug and peck on her cheek.

"How'd he behave last night?" Sharon asked.

"Oh as you might see faintly, Karen had to use the strap on him for not doing as he was told, but generally he was good. Aunt Andrea gave his little penis and his testicles a good massage last night. Didn't she, Steven?"

The boy looked to the floor and mumbled, "Yeah, I guess…"

"Well that didn't sound like you appreciated it young man. What about the good night kiss? You liked that didn't you?"

"No, it was disgusting."

"What was disgusting?" Sharon inquired.

"Aunt Andrea kissed my wiener and balls good night."

"And, that didn't feel good to you?" Sharon inquired further.

"No, adults aren't supposed to do that stuff to kids."

"Who says?" Sharon dug further.

"My guidance counselor at school, she says that's abuse."

"Do you think it's abuse? Did it feel bad to you?"

"No, it felt kinda good to me, but it's wrong."

"It's wrong to feel good?" Andrea entered the discussion. "What else did this guidance counselor say?"

"She said parents could touch the parts of your body your bathing suit covers if they need to clean it or inspect it for rashes and stuff, but to just touch it like you did is wrong."

"Well, Honey, if you don't want me to rub it anymore, I guess I won't." Andrea offered.

"Oh nonsense Andrea you can touch it whenever you want. Fuck that shit. And, you young man, can just ignore what the counselor told you. If your Aunt, or for that matter anyone else I want to let touch it, wants to touch it they can. Do you understand? What that lady told you is wrong, it's just a way for the government to come and take kids from their parents." Sharon was livid. "Do you want to live with someone else?"

"No."

"Well then forget what you've been told. Your penis and testicles belong to me until you're eighteen. Then you get to take charge of them. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Look at me. Do you really understand?"

"Yes, Mom, I understand, all right?" Steven was angry at being asked the same question twice.

"Now get out there and let those little girls play with it." Sharon pointed to the pool deck.

After he left Sharon threw her hands up in the air, "That just pisses me off. He's my kid and the government seems to think they can call all the shots. He's my kid and if I want to make his boy parts open to anyone Big Brother can just go fuck himself. Who in the hell empowered the guidance counselor to discuss such things with my kid?"

"Just calm down. It doesn't matter. We'll still do what we feel is best for him. And, us!" Andrea tried to calm her friend.

"I have half a mind to send him to school in his thong just to make a point."

"They'd just suspend him, or send him home for 'more appropriate attire'. Forget it, Sharon we have work to do. The others will be here in a half hour. Let's have a cup of coffee."

Momentarily the door bell rang and out on the front porch stood Marjorie with two completely nude seven year olds. Both had erections as they entered the house. "I'd suggest you boys do something about those little woodies you've got there. Jamie is on the prowl with the lanyard." Andrea cautioned. Then she continued with Marjorie as the boys ran to the pool with their little dicks bobbing back and forth with each step. The women sat at the kitchen table, "Last night I thought about the shorts. I think they're a go. If we market enough the whole damn school system will have to change their dress code. At the very least we'll have a whole lot of baby meat roaming the range. Sharon did you get any fabric?"

Still pissed from the exchange earlier she said, "Yes, I did. It's in the car let me go get it." She walked out and when she returned she was smiling, "You know I want three pairs to dress him in for his first day back at school. Make them short enough the bottom of his ass cheeks are visible when he stands up. Here, I've got some cotton and I thought a pair of dressy ones would be great for church and formal gathering so I also bought some wool. By God, he won't wear underwear with these either. I hope his little ass doesn't break out from the wool, but we won't know until we try. Oh and Andrea, the wool shorts should have belt loops."

"And a fly?"

"Nope, no fly. He'll have to pull them down."

"Good enough. I have a pattern that I've doctored. Before Susan gets here let's go up and try to knock off a pair." Andrea suggested. With that the three women coffee cups in hand adjourned to the large sewing area upstairs. "I made twenty more last night. Couldn't sleep."

The sewing machine hummed. And quickly a pair of elastic waist cotton short shorts was produced. Total time from material to finished product was twenty seven minutes.

"Steven, come up here," Sharon beckoned from the upstairs window. Anxious to get away from Jamie's prying fingers he almost jumped over a chair in an attempt to get to the sewing room. "Here, try these on."

"What are they a swim suit?"

"No they're shorts."

"Mom, shorts aren't this short. I can't wear these in public."

"Why not, Honey, you have been wandering in public with that mesh thong on?" Marjorie inquired.

"I don't want to do that either, but that's just a beach and most other people don't have much on."

"Well, their wieners weren't showing." Marjorie tried to reason.

"No, but a lot of the girls and women had their butts showing like I did. At least I wasn't alone."

"No, but no one had their wiener showing. Didn't that embarrass you?"

"Do we have to talk about it?"

"Okay, Steven, just put these on." Sharon called his attention back to her. Reluctantly the eleven year old took the shorts and pulled them over his nude backside and genitals.

"Oh aren't they cute? Look his ass line starts here and so does the hem. I do like the sweep up his thigh too. It gives maximum leg exposure and this little notch makes them look finished. Now, Steven sit here and spread your legs." Steven sat in the chair his mother had turned for him. "Yes, his boy parts are well exposed. I believe if he gets a woody it'll stick out the leg so at least his little dick head will show. I love them."

"What do you think Marjorie?"

"I love them. Here let me reach up in here and give his boy parts a little tug." She did. "I think you're right an erection should expose at the very least the tip of his penis."

"What are these shorts for?" Steven was beginning to worry.

"They for school and every day play wear." Sharon answered.

"Mom, I can't wear these to school. I'll get teased by the girls and the other guys will make fun of me."

"It'll make you stronger."

"They're against the dress code." He argued again.

"Maybe today they are, but you watch. The dress code will change." Sharon replied.

"Hey, there's no fly. How do I go to the bathroom?"

"How did you do it when you were wearing you Speedo? It didn't have a fly either."

"Well, I would pull my penis out the leg and go that way."

"With these, you'll pull them down to your knees and just go."

"Little kids do that. I'm not going to do that."

"Yes you are, and besides that thong has helped tan those ass cheeks of yours to a beautiful bronze and I want people to see them."

"Mom, come on don't do this to me. You said I could wear boxer underwear this year. That'll really look good my underwear hanging out form under my shorts."

"Who said you'd be wearing underwear? In fact, you won't."

"No underwear, come on Mom. Please don't do this."

"It's done. And you can visit that counselor and tell her I said you were to dress like that."

"Please, Mom. I'll wear these when I'm home playing, but don't make me wear them to school."

"You'll wear them to school, young man. Andrea let's get two more out of the rest of the material and make those wool shorts while you're at it."

"Steven here's a long sleeve shirt. Put it on and go stand over there so Marjorie can take some pictures of you in the shorts. Here's a pair of white ankle socks and some Nikes. Be sure to tuck the shirt in as best you can so it doesn't show outside the legs of the shorts."

"Andrea, after we get the initial order of thongs done, let's make some of these shorts for my boys. We can start marketing them too. Strings and Sacks is now expanding to a line of shorts. Mark my words, we'll soon work our way to a household word. The females will make a statement. Maybe basketball and soccer shorts will return to a respectable length up around their asses."

Angrily Steven removed the shorts and threw them on the floor with a violent thrust. "I won't wear these gay things to school. I won't, Mom. I'll leave home, I won't wear them."

Without a word Sharon went to the window and hollered, "Karen, bring your strap up here."

"You can whip me, but I won't wear them." Steven naked again folded his arms across his chest and huffed.

"Here it is Aunt Sharon. Is Steven going to get a whipping?"

"Yes, Karen he is and you're going to give it to him."

"Oh can I? Great!"

"Get over here young man. Bend over this stool."

"I won't wear them." Steven repeated as he was forced over the stool.

"How many do you want me to give him," Karen inquired of her 'Aunt'.

"Let's begin with twenty and we'll go from there. And, Karen, I want you to hurt him. I mean really hurt him so make each one count."

"Yes, Ma'am." Momentarily there was a swish and the belt landed squarely across his ass. The snap of the belt was sharp and it was apparent by the stripe she took Sharon's direction to heart.

"I won't wear them," the crying boy mumbled. Sharon got more irate with him. She got up and unplugged an extension cord connected to the sewing machine.

"Here, Karen, use this instead. Tear him up."

The preteen took the extension cord and doubled it. Suddenly it was flying through the air and as it made contact wrapped itself around his hips. The sting was twice the pain of the belt and the boy broke into a scream followed by blubbering through his tears. After several vivid stripes were left crisscrossing his backside and thighs his attitude mellowed. On the fifteenth lash he begged, "I'll wear them. Please, Mom, make her stop I'll wear them." His face reddened by the crying and his nose running he begged.

"Keep going Karen. I'm not sure he's serious."

Karen continued to tear him up. "Aunt Sharon, that's twenty. Should I stop?"

"Please, Mom, let her stop. Please."

"No, give him five or ten more."

Immediately the extension cord made contact again and every five seconds landed squarely on his backside, often wrapping around his thigh. Once or twice the tip of the cord made contact with his penis.

"Okay, you can stop." Sharon then said to her crying offspring, "Don't you ever tell me you won't do what you're told again, Steven." The blubbering boy sobbing and leaking discharge from his nose lay on the floor on his side.

"Yyyuh, uh, uh, es, Mmmmuh, uh, a', uh, uh, mam, uh, uh," was all he could choke out to acknowledge his mother.

"Good, now get downstairs. You might want to get in the pool to cool that off. First let the girls put some lotion on it. Go ahead, Karen, take him downstairs."

"Can I take the extension cord too?"

"No use the belt. We need the cord for the sewing machines." Sharon was now sullen over becoming so irritated with her boy.

"Sharon, stop it, he deserved it." Andrea again was in the position of comforting her friend.

"Absolutely, he asked for that," Marjorie joined in.

The doorbell rang. "That must be Susan and her kids. I'll let them in and be right back up." Andrea went downstairs to answer the door. There on the front porch was an eager little girl holding her brother's penis in her hand. "Come on in. You kids go outside and play while your Mom and I go upstairs."

As they entered the sewing room, Susan picked up a pair of shorts off the floor. "Oh what's this?"

"Those are Steven's new shorts for school and general play wear." Marjorie answered.

"Well if those just don't fit the bill, I don't know what will. Is there anything left to the viewer's imagination?"

"No, and that's the way we want them, isn't it?" Andrea responded.

"Oh yes, we sure do. So have we got some for Sammy?"

"No but we will. You can be sure of that. At least Steven won't be the only kid at school in them."

"He sure won't. Maybe if we market them well, there'll be a few more showing up to class displaying what they've got. I assume no underwear is worn with these. It'd just show under the legs."

"Nope, no underwear." Marjorie answered.

"What's the matter, Sharon? You look a little down." Susan was perceptive of the sullen look.

"She had to have Steven whipped already this morning for sassing her back."

"Hey, girl, you're his mother and you don't have to take backtalk. You needed to teach him that. Let it go." Susan attempted to further console her.

As the ladies began the production of the thongs to fill the orders, Angela Petrie was walking in to her boss' office in a New York business center. "Melissa, I was walking Jones Beach this weekend and I passed this little boy with a thong on that had a mesh front. It was the cutest thing. Then as I walked further there was another one and a set of twins further down. Are we seeing a trend toward exposing little boys in beach wear?"

"I don't know, Angela, where did these thongs come from?"

Well, the mother of the twins gave me this flier." She

handed her boss the flier.

"Oh they are adorable. Little boys' bodies are so interesting to look at aren't they? Baby peckers and jewels. Oh, and look at those cute little ass cheeks. Strings and Sacks, huh? Never heard of them. Look if you can find out more and get some color shots of the boys wearing them, we'll print it in our next issue. Why don't you call them and see if they'd be interested?"

The sewing machine was humming and the phone rang. Andrea stopped long enough to answer it. "Yes, it is. There was a brief pause, "You're kidding me. Let me put you on speaker phone my partners are here. They'll need to hear this."

"Hello, this is Angela Petrie with Fashion Trends for Kids magazine. We are an industry publication which keeps designers abreast of new trends in child attire. We'd like to do a special article on the mesh thongs. Is that your only line?"

"No, Angela, we do the mesh thongs for boys and we have solid models too. Recently we have designed short shorts for boys. We feel boys are too covered up and they really have developed a false modesty need, when really what they need is to be exposed for the rest of us to enjoy."

"What I would like to do is drive out to your plant and interview you folks and get some pictures of some of the boys in your product line for our next edition. That is, if you're interested."

"Well, we don't have a factory. We work out of the second floor of my home. We're a fledgling outfit."

"That's even better. What better way to get off the ground than with immediate international attention. When would be a good time?"

"Well, what's the latest date you can schedule?" Andrea asked.

"How about on the 23rd? That's about a week and a half."

"That would be good as one of our prime models just got his butt spanked and I'm afraid it won't look normal for a few days. He's nursing some pretty nasty stripes and we do want his bottom in prime shape for the modeling."

"I understand, sometimes little boys need a good lesson in who's in-charge. So we'll see you in a week and a half. I'll bring the photographer. How about some directions."

As Andrea gave directions, Sharon went down to tell the girls to lay off the lanyard and belt for awhile so they could keep the boys in decent shape for the pictures. Marjorie was jumping up and down holding Susan's shoulders. Susan was smiling ear to ear. "Can you believe it, we just started and now we're setting a new fashion standard."

After hanging up and cheering with her peers, Andrea started, "Come on let's get our first orders out. We'll enclose a little notice to "'Look for us in the next issue of Fashion Trends for Kids'. Yes, oh, yes." She clinched her fist and raised it in triumph.

The time and the work flew by as the women chatted the whole time about the up-coming notoriety.

"Okay, with this money we'll have to buy another sewing machine or two. And, right now let's get the shorts finalized. Be sure to get the wool ones done. We need to have the full line of product together. Let's make sure the kids are all fitted individually." Sharon had apparently let go of her depressing morning. "I sure hope my son's butt is back to normal in a few days. It's pretty plaid right now."

"Oh it will. I've left stripes on Sammy a few times. You'll be surprised how quickly he'll recover. Don't worry about it any more." Susan reassured her.

Down at the pool, the boys had taken a more relaxed posture toward following Karen's directives since the mothers had withdrawn the strap in favor of keeping their models in prime shape. "Moommmm, the boys are terrible. They won't mind me or the girls. We can't whip them so I have no way to enforce the rules and keep them behaving properly."

"Ladies, we have to keep them controlled. I have a suggestion that won't leave visible marks but will make our point." Andrea offered.

"Do tell!!!" Susan had the look of curiosity in her eyes.

"I have a bottle brush down stairs. Cramming that up their little asses and moving it back a forth awhile will tear up their anuses. One or two rounds with that should get their attention. If it doesn't we can resort to enemas or ball squeezes. What's your pleasure?"

Marjorie jumped right on the boat, "Get that brush out, Andrea and tell Karen to call us for the next offense. We'll teach her to satisfy her itch for order, by scratching the boys' butt holes." Her statement brought chuckles to the room.

"Okay, Karen, next time one of them needs a whipping call us down and we'll show you how to keep things in order from now on. Just tell the boys they better start listening or they will definitely wish they had. As far as the woodies, teach Jamie and Shaqueta to flick the boys' ball sacks with their fingers. Once or twice of a direct hit that way will make them soft." Karen showed a genuine delight in her mother's instruction and quickly descended the stairs to warn the boys.

"Hey you boys, come over here." Karen hollered. Timmy and Teddy responded immediately. Curiosity took hold of Steven as he walked over.

Sammy just hollered, "I don't want to, I'm swimming."

"Sammy if you don't come over here something bad will happen to you. I promise." Karen responded to his insolent remark.

"Oooooooo, I'm scared," the boy replied. "You can't whip me what are you going to do tell my Mom? Ohhhh, I'm really scared, Kaaaaarrreeennnn."

With that Karen stormed into the house to seek support. "Mooooommmm, now Sammy is being a brat. He won't do what I tell him and he says I can't do anything to him."

Susan intervened, "Don't worry Karen, I'll help you with that. Andrea, could you get that brush you talked about?"

"Sure come on in the kitchen," The entered the kitchen and Andrea piled through junk drawers until she produced a brush with stiff bristles poking out of a plastic handle in all directions. Here ya' go, Susan."

"Come with me Karen," Susan commanded, "We'll fix his attitude." As the walked onto the pool deck, Sammy immediately began making excuses.

"Mom, she was giving me a ration. I was just swimming peacefully and not bothering anyone and Karen started making trouble. She told me to get out without any good reason."

Susan held up her hand, "Sammy, who's in-charge out here when I'm not out here?"

Putting his head down the dripping wet boy mumbled, "Karen".

"Who didn't do as he was told?"

"Me."

"All of you children gather round here. I want you to see what will happen when you are disobedient to the one in- charge. Sammy, on your back." The boy complied with a questioning look. "Now put the soles of your feet together." He slid his feet up toward his crotch until the soles were touching each other. "Now, hands behind your head." He complied as he was now in a posture with his genitals fully displayed as well as was his anus. The vulnerability of his position gave rise to an erection. His mother ignored it. "Don't you move from that position until Karen tells you she's finished. Now, Karen, take this brush and shove it in his butt hole."

"Mommmmm, please don't let her do that. It'll hurt. Please don't."

"Karen, do what I told you." The girl put the end of the brush against his sphincter and pushed. The bristles at the tip folded as the brush made its way into his lower bowel.

"Owwwwweeee, ow, ow, take it out. Take it out."

"No Karen, push it in further. Further, Karen."

"Owww, owwww, oww," tears were trickling down the boy's face as he grimaced in pain.

"Now Karen, push it back and forth for awhile. Pretend you're cleaning him up. Actually, you're cleaning up his act aren't you, dear?" The girl complied pulling the handle out about two inches and then returning it to the starting position. The bristles scratched the boy's tender anus. Each stroke brought new agony as he cried audibly begging for cessation. His legs began a downward thrust in an attempt at stopping the brushes movement. As he did so, Susan flicked his testicles with her index finger and threatened to squeeze them if he didn't return his legs to the proper position. His hands began the journey to protect his testicles and he was slapped. "Sammy, if I need to, I'll get duct tape and tape your hands together and your feet too. You won't be able to move. Now, keep in position."

The brush created minor abrasions on the anal lining and the scratching was a definite irritant. "Okay, Jamie go ask your mother for some salt." The child left and returned with a cylindrical box of salt.

"Now you can remove the brush, Karen." She did. "After you've roughed it up, take the salt container and pour some on the boy's anus like so."

"Oooooooowwwww, oooooo, it burns! It burns, Mom! Take it off, take it off! Owwwwww. Please Mom get it off, it burns!!!!"

Susan continued, "Then you leave him there for a few minutes. If you want you can add more salt when he stops screaming." Five minutes later the boy was writhing in pain. It took all he could muster to maintain his position, but he knew if he didn't do it, the whole process might be repeated. "Okay, now Sammy, she can do this whenever she needs to. You can get up." As Sammy ran to the pool to seek relief in the cool water, Susan cautioned Steven and the twins. "This could happen to you too. Understand?" The wide eyed boys nodded their understanding.

"Well, Susan, the salt was a nice touch." Sharon mentioned.

"We had to make a point. We don't want them rebelling, now, do we?" Susan gloated over her ingenuity.

"We sure don't," Marjorie enjoined. "I'm sure they won't."

"Steven get upstairs we have shorts to try on," Sharon called out.

Scared by the scene he'd just observed, Steven responded, "Coming, Mom."