Chad's Anger Management Training Chapter 50

Chad's Anger Management Training Chapter 50
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 50: Working Both Ends Against the Middle

The fourth grade class had a different mood about it than the class Chad had just left. The first thing that was obvious is that the room smelled of popcorn. The desks were pushed back into a corner, and the girls were seated in a semicircle, grinning and whispering to one another, each with their own tubs of popcorn at their sides or in front of them. The boys, on the other hand, were gathered to one side of the front in a bunch, looking somewhat unhappy and apprehensive. None of them had any popcorn, either.

"Ah, the guest of honor is here, and right on time," the teacher said. "What was your name again, young man?" When Chad hesitantly replied, she beckoned them to the front of the room, setting up chairs for his mother and Mrs. Hendricks. She pointed to a piece of carpeting on the floor, similar to the pieces each girl was seated on. The boys stirred uneasily to one side. Chad sat down, carefully separating his legs to ease his raw, aching wiener. It had remained soft but extended as it often did post-orgasm, it raw redness obvious. Girls noticed and began pointing at it and giggling, while the boys also began nudging each other and pointing.

Mrs. Hendricks took charge. "Mr. Henson has just come from the 5th grade, where he was masturbated by each of the girls and then spent several minutes on the Stimulator. If you'll recall from our discussion on Friday, the Stimulator is a device that when attached to a young boy makes him want to masturbate uncontrollably until his penis is red and raw. That's why his genitals appear the way they do." She turned to the 4th grade teacher. "He's all yours," she said.

"The fourth grade had some difficulty making a decision on your punishment, Mr. Henson, because the boys and girls clearly differed in their choices. It isn't that the boys wanted to go easy on you, far from it. They were arguing that you should be spanked on your bare bottom for the entire 50 minutes. However, two of our boys started fighting each other during the discussion, and punches were thrown, and they both earned themselves good bare bottomed spankings Friday afternoon," the teacher said, glancing significantly at two boys standing to the side, who were looking studiously at the floor, "After the two of them were spanked and sent to the corner, the girls outnumbered the boys who were left, and their choice passed easily."

The teacher paused and looked at Chad expectantly. Chad realized she was waiting for him to respond. He wet his dry lips. "What – What are you going to do to me?" he managed to squeak.

"We're going to punish your mouth. The girls pointed out that this makes sense because it is the mouth of the girl you attacked that suffered the most damage. Anyway," she said. "It has been decided by our girls that you will orally pleasure each of the 10 boys in our class, making each orgasm in succession, and continuing for 30 minutes, thus giving us time for this introduction and time for you to proceed to your next class and your next punishment. Before the altercation between my two little miscreants occurred, I had planned to place a low screen in front of you while you worked, to afford my boys privacy and dignity while you serviced them. But after the unseemly incident in my class, I decided that my boys all need to learn a lesson in humility, so I'm dispensing with the screen and you'll perform on each of them in the open. Boys, if you will prepare yourself as you were instructed earlier?"

"Yeah, way to go, you dorks," a boy said to the two who were looking at the floor. "'Cause of you we all have to be naked!"

The teacher looked at the speaker sharply. "That's right," she said. "but only from the waist down." She smiled at the boys, who shuffled nervously. "Remember, fellows, that if you're good it's only embarrassment you'll suffer, not pain. If not..." The two kids who'd been spanked gripped their bottoms with both hands, apparently in memory. Chad was surprised at the range of the sizes of these little 4th graders. The little guys were truly little squirts, but two of the bigger ones were almost as big as him.

"Do we have to?" the smallest boy of the group chimed in. He was standing closest to Chad. The teacher looked at him sharply.

"Of course not," she said. "You can take your pants and underpants off and go over my lap for a sound spanking instead, and then allow Mr. Henson to pleasure you. Take your pick." The boy immediately began kicking off his shoes, appearing to shrink in size as he did.

Chad, seated on his haunches in front of the class in the center of the arch of girls, watched in amazement as boys, some reluctant, some more determined, began slipping off shoes and then unbuttoning and lowering their pants, placing them in small piles along the front wall. In seconds a rainbow of different colors of boxers and tiny briefs were on display, including, to Chad's amazement, one boy who wore a thong-like thing similar to what he'd worn in the stocks on Sunday. Weird, Chad thought to himself – his mother had always told him that boys wore underwear to cover their butts if their pants tore, and to protect their pants from poo if they had an accident or wiped badly. What good was that thong thing in those situations?

Meanwhile, the boys had paused and were looking at each other, each waiting for others to go first. Their teacher clapped her hands for attention. "All the way, gentlemen," she ordered. "It's time for you boys to stop having secrets from the girls. Remember, anyone who doesn't comply can take his pants off for a bare butt spanking first instead, and the mandatory lunch time display that goes with it," the teacher said cheerfully.

"Yeah, take it off!" a girl in the center giggled.

"Let's see those little weenies!" the girl next to her said.

"And your butts!" another giggled hysterically.

The little guy near Chad who'd protested earlier put on a determined look and peeled his tiny briefs off, tossing them aside and baring his little, jutting penis and darker scrotum, staring defiantly around him. Other boys followed suit with varying degrees of blushing, until only a chubby boy in back was left. At a threatening look from the teacher, he reluctantly pulled down his own boxers, revealing his almost invisible penis buried in the fatty bulge of his groin, his scrotum just a wrinkled patch, his baby balls buried in the fat. Chad wondered, briefly, if that was how Randy Martinez in his own class would look naked.

"In line, gentlemen – alphabetical order," the teacher ordered. The little guy immediately moved away from Chad, and the first place in line was taken by a medium-sized brown haired boy with a stiff, already hard and jutting penis about the size of Chad's and a similar, but more forward-bulging scrotum. The other boys jostled uncomfortably as they found their places in line. Most had hands cupped over their genitals, but some stood openly, ignoring the girls' eager eyes. Chad noticed that two of the boys bore fading marks on their now bare butts, testimony to how hard this teacher spanked.

"Might was well stop trying to cover yourselves, gentlemen," the teacher chided. "We're all going to see everything sooner or later. In fact, why don't you all put both your hands on your butts right now and keep them there for the rest of this exercise." Groaning, the boys who'd been covering up moved to put their hands on their bottoms, a position that caused their hips to jut more and the genitals to become more prominent. Chad noted that the poor fat kid wasn't helped a bit in appearance by doing this, though, his tiny penis still just a circle embedded in a pad of fat.

Chad was somewhat relieved by the teacher's next action. She leaned toward the mildly blushing boy standing in front of Chad and thoroughly swabbed his penis, scrotum, and the surrounding groin with a baby wipe, covering the entire surface. "I can't guarantee these boy's hygienic habits," she commented, tossing the wipe in a convenient trash can. "So the board ordered they all be cleaned before you touch them. If I had my say you'd be doing them all in the raw, and deserve whatever you got." She indicated the first boy, standing expectantly in front of Chad with his curved little penis jutting out. "All right, Mr. Henson. You may begin orally pleasuring your first customer. I'll be standing behind you with a paddle, and if I don't think you're working enthusiastically enough, you can expect some very hard whacks. Take Mr. Abramson's penis in your mouth and begin right now," the 4th grade teacher ordered.

Chad had known from earlier experience that penises came in all sizes and shapes and degrees of curvature and symmetry. He'd also known that boys, when they came, did so with a variety of different noises and movements, but the next 30 minutes really emphasized those differences. For starters, 6 of the boys were circumcised including the obviously Jewish Mr. Abramson, but 4, two of them Hispanic, one ivory white and red haired, and one a black haired, diminutive Asian, were not. He soon had more reason to be thankful for the teacher's baby wipes, because several of the penises that approached him were none too clean looking to start with, and one of the uncircumcised boys took considerable cleaning under the foreskin before he was ready.

Most of the boys came easily, taking little time, but some were tougher to arouse and satisfy. The little fat kid, reminding Chad oddly of Eric Cartman from Southpark, didn't have a hard on even after the teacher washed him, and his penis projected so little that Chad had to lick the tip with his tongue for an extended period of time before he even got hard, an action that sent the girls who were watching into hysterics. Even after the boy managed to get hard, the section projecting from the thick layer of fat on his groin was only about an inch, so he kept falling out of Chad's mouth when he'd move suddenly or flex his enormous butt. It didn't help Chad's job any that the girls teased the fat boy unmercifully about his small equipment and big butt, obviously greatly reducing his ardor. Chad somehow expected the boy to suddenly blurt out at any minute, "I'm not fat, I'm big-boned!" but he appeared to be too shamed to do anything but look down at Chad while Chad worked on him.

Some kids yelped when they came, some thrust at his mouth, some whimpered, and some just gasped and then withdrew. None squirted anything, which didn't surprise Chad much. The smallest boy whooped and grabbed Chad's hair when he came, almost yanking bunches of it out. Incongruously, he had the longest penis, a reddish pink tool longer than Chad's with a prominent head. It curved up jauntily, hardly shrinking even when Chad was done.

As he was progressing through the boys a second time, Chad realized how much he hated uncircumcised penises. The tips looked rude and slipped around in your mouth, impeding contact with the head, and he couldn't get over the feeling that disgusting stuff was under the boys' foreskins, despite the fact the teacher cleaned them right in front of him. He decided he despised fat kids, too, as he labored to get the chubby boy's dick up a second time. And as the little whooper jabbed energetically at his mouth and pulled his hair a second time, he decided he didn't like little kids with bigger dicks than his, either. In fact, he decided, he didn't like anything about little boys at all.

By the time he finished the second round, his mouth was sore, his tongue was tired, his lips hurt, his face hurt, his jaw hurt, and his whole mouth felt like it would taste of boy forever. As it was close enough to half an hour, the teacher decreed the 4th grade was done punishing Chad. The boys weren't allowed to dress yet, however, until each had filed past Chad, shaken his hand, and thanked him for giving them oral pleasure. Some of the boys could barely mumble the words in embarrassment, some said them without difficulty, and some smiled and sang them out enthusiastically and with genuine feeling. The little whooper shook Chad's hand grandly and proclaimed, "he's better than both my little brothers put together," sending his classmates into hysterics.

"Don't mind him," The fourth grade teacher said to Chad and his mother. "He's the class clown. Although he may be telling the truth – he does have younger brothers." She looked meaningfully at the little guy. "I would like to point out, though," she said with louder and with menace, "that there's a fine line between funny and insolent, and I'll paddle any little boy's bare butt who crosses that line." The little guy looked abashed, but grinned at his classmates as soon as the teacher's back was turned, waggling his jutting, still hard penis at her.

Mrs. Hendricks helped Chad to his feet, and out of the classroom Chad, his mother, and Mrs. Hendricks went, down the hall, across the playground, and back into the middle school building. They made a quick stop at the boys' room, where Chad was allowed to enter by himself. Peeing was painful through his raw penis – the pee tube burned from his excessive masturbation, and the tip burned when the pee dribbled on it. He turned on the faucet and leaned into the sink, letting the water wash over his sore organ, then he patted it dry with paper towels. He leaned over and stuck his mouth under the faucet, letting water surge through it for a bit and then swallowing some. He still thought he could taste boy, but decided maybe it was all in his mind. He washed his face at the sink, drying himself and looking in the mirror. His lips were chapped and a bit puffy, and his wiener was a mess, but otherwise he looked okay. He twisted to look at his butt in the mirror. The two whacks with the paddle didn't even show, and his smooth, curved, muscular buns looked perfect in the mirror. But, he thought, shuddering, some grade down the line almost assuredly had chosen his butt as their target. He just hoped his butt wouldn't look like Jimmy's had when they were done, or even worse.

Walking into the 8th grade with his mother and Mrs. Hendricks, Chad immediately got a clear hint of what he faced there. A wide assortment paddles, whips, and straps was arrayed on a table at the front of the room. There was a small plastic paddle with a wooden handle, a bigger wooden paddle polished and waxed to a high sheen, a sturdy wooden hair brush with an oval head, a thing that looked like a ping-pong paddle, a nasty thing with holes in the end of it, and several other shapes and sizes. He also saw two leather straps, one that split into two tails and one that was just a straight belt of leather, a Stinger identical to the one that had assaulted Alan's poor butt, and a willow switch that looked freshly cut. So it was going to be his butt this time, Chad thought. It was just a matter of who was going to give it to him. Odd, though, he thought, that there was no spanking chair at the front of the room, nor, to his relief, was the horse there.

The question of who was going to spank him and where wasn't immediately settled. He was hustled forward with no delay and turned to face the class with the table behind him, and told to stand in the hands behind head position. He felt incredibly small among these big kids – unlike his class, none of the boys here were his size, and some were husky, tall, and adult-looking. The girls all looked deep into puberty – they all had breasts of varying levels of development, and some would have been highly attractive to adult men, and indeed were attractive to Chad, too. His penis twitched in appreciation, drawing the attention of most of the girls and boys.

"Look, the little horn dog is getting a hard on," one of the boys smirked, taking in his small boy genitals and undersized frame.

"So it is possible to escape from Munchkinland," a girl in the back cracked, to general laughter.

"If they all are hung like him, how do they make baby Munchkins?" the girl next to her responded.

"I used to have a dick like that," a tall boy in the front said loudly. "But then I turned 7."

"Come to order, class," Mrs. Amahl, the 8th grade teacher, said. There was a general shuffling, but the class quieted down quickly. "Mr. Henson is here for his well deserved punishment. But before we commence, I'd like to have him tell us what he's experienced so far, so that all of you can appreciate why you don't want to be the next person to run the gauntlet here at Miriam Webster Middle School. Mr. Henson?"

Chad looked at her questioningly. "What am I supposed to do?" he finally asked.

"Tell the class what you've had to go through so far," Mrs. Hendricks responded. "And don't leave anything out, unless you want me to add an additional punishment to your list. I, personally, would love to paddle your little butt right here and now!"

Chad swallowed and cleared his throat. "Well, I, umm, I went to the 5th grade, and, um, I had to do things to myself. Then I went to the 4th grade, and ..."

Mrs. Hendricks interrupted. "Do you want a bare-bottomed paddling from me right now?" she demanded.

"No," Chad responded quickly.

"Then tell them everything. Tell what you had to do, every detail, and tell how you felt doing it," she said, glowering.

"The, um, the girls rubbed my wiener," Chad said.

"Your what?" Mrs. Hendricks said. "Use adult words – you aren't 6. And tell the whole story. There was a contest, wasn't there?"

"They rubbed my penis. And if they made me cum they got a prize." Chad said quickly.

"Orgasm, Mr. Henson. They tried to make you have an orgasm. Use adult words, I'm not warning you again. Then what?" Mrs. Hendricks said.

Chad swallowed down his terror. "Then they put this egg thing way up my poo, I mean my bottom hole, and they put a wire around my wein-, I mean my p- p- penis, and they were hooked to this machine and when they turned it on it made my p- p- penis burn." Why couldn't he say "penis" without stuttering, Chad wondered to himself. "And the only way to make it not burn so much was to rub it, so I rubbed it, but then I had to say when I came-- I mean, when I orgasmed, and I forgot once, and they turned the machine up, and then it hurt more and I had to rub harder, and they wouldn't make it stop until I was all sore." He pointed at his small penis, which was still distended and glowing red.

"Now tell them about the 4th graders," Mrs. Hendricks said.

Chad blushed with shame. "I had to, um, um, suck them," Chad whispered.

"What did you have to do?" Mrs. Hendricks snapped. "Speak up!"

"I had to suck them," Chad said a little louder, but only barely.

"One last chance, then you go over my knee," Mrs. Hendricks thundered. "Shout it out!"

"I HAD TO SUCK THEM," Chad wailed, terrified of an extra spanking from this powerful woman.

In front of him, the class whooped and hollered, boys spreading their legs and pointing at their own crotches, girls giggling and wishing they could have seen his performance. Mrs. Hendricks let the laughter die down, but had no intention of letting Chad get off the hook. "You had to suck what part of them, Mr. Henson?" she asked archly.

"Ummmm, I had to suck their wien- ummm, their p- p- penises," Chad muttered, remembering to use the official adult word but having trouble getting it out again. It was so much easier saying "wiener." The class roared with laughter some more.

"And how did that make you feel?" Mrs. Hendricks said icily, when the laughter died down again.

"I didn't feel anything," Chad said, looking at the floor.

"That's a lie, you impertinent little brat! Now how did it really make you feel?!"

"I um, I hated it," Chad said, noting with terror that Mrs. Hendricks had picked up a wooden paddle from the table and was patting her other hand with it. "It was dirty and nasty, and I hated it."

"You mean they came in his mouth!" a girl in front exclaimed. "Gross!"

"They didn't squirt anything," Chad said automatically. "They're too little." The crowd of 8th graders roared louder. When they finally calmed again, Mrs. Amahl, took the floor. "So what do you think we have planned for you?" she asked.

Chad looked to the side, taking in the table full of spanking implements. "You're going to paddle me, aren't you." he stated with resignation.

"No, I'm not," Mrs. Amahl replied. "Guess again."

"You're not going to let all the girls paddle me, are you? Each with a different paddle? Please say no!" Chad wailed. He couldn't imagine getting 11 separate paddlings from these big girls!

"Is that your wish? Not to have my girls paddle you? You should be thrilled, then, to know I'm granting your wish. None of the girls in this class will paddle you." Mrs. Amahl replied. She smiled broadly, like a cat cornering a mouse.

"Not the boys!" Chad wailed. He surveyed the males in the class, many of whom were as big as Joey. He imagined how hard they could paddle him, and how badly it would hurt.

"Don't be ridiculous," Mrs. Amahl snapped. "Boys are only rarely allowed to discipline other boys at Miriam Webster. It goes against nature! Discipline of ornery brats is a job better suited to the female temperament."

"Then who's going to paddle me?" Chad said, confused.

"You are," Mrs. Amahl said, dropping her bombshell. She looked at Chad's mother. "The girls came up with this one on their own! You have to admit it's very creative. They couldn't agree on which of them should paddle you, and then Kathy commented that you certainly couldn't paddle yourself, and then Celeste asked why not, and the idea just progressed from there. As we discussed it, we realized that it would be much more humiliating and painful for you to be both the spanker and the spankee, having to beat your own bottom even though you didn't want to. So here we are."

She pulled Chad around to the far side of the table, so he was facing the class with the table between them. "We decided that you have to give yourself at least two swats with each of these," she said, indicating the wide variety of spanking implements. "The girls will decide how many swats you'll give yourself with each paddle, strap, or switch by rolling the big dice." She motioned to a pair of girls sitting in the front at the same desk. Chad noticed for the first time that they had a pair of large plastic novelty dice in front of them, the number 6 visible on top of each one. Chad did a quick count of the number of items on the desk, coming up with a total of 12 spanking implements. So the smallest number of swats he'd have to give himself would be 24 if they rolled a 2 every time (fat chance of that), and the most would be a monstrous 144! Chad remembered having heard that 7 was the most common roll of two dice, and that 7, 6, and 8 together came up in about half of dice rolls. So if he averaged 7 swats an item, he'd still have to give himself 84!

"You're probably wondering how we're going to get you to paddle yourself hard enough to actually hurt," Mrs. Amahl continued. "It's really very simple. I'm going to watch each swat you give yourself, and any that aren't hard enough, you'll have to give to yourself again, along with an additional swat for not trying hard enough. And if at any time I decide you've stopped trying, I'll just give you the maximum of 12 apiece with each instrument that's left, and I'll be certain they are of maximum hardness!" She paused to let the threat sink in. "Now let's get you prepared," she added.

She brought Chad back around the table and faced him away from the class, having him lean with his elbows on the table and his face inches away from some of the nastiest looking paddles he'd ever seen. A tall, shapely 8th grade girl was called up to apply lotion to his bottom, Mrs. Amahl commenting as she did that the lotion was particularly good for softening a boy's butt, making it harder to blister it and break the skin but easier to make it sting. Chad fidgeted as his entire butt was massaged and the 8th graders looked on, all too aware of his total nudity, and of her careful attention to his butt crack, the skin between his legs, and the base of his balls. Having experienced it before, he wasn't surprised when her finger invaded his butt hole and pushed lotion in it, too, but he gasped anyway. In short order, Mrs. Amahl straightened him up facing the table.

"You'll find there are advantages to paddling yourself," Mrs. Amahl said. "You can decide how long to wait between spanks, and you don't have to give yourself another blow until you're ready. You can decide where on your bottom to strike, with the exception of a couple of the instruments – in those cases I'll tell you where. You can switch hands when you want, and strike yourself from either side. But you can't take too long, because if we get down to the last 10 minutes of your time, I'll simply give you 12 each with the remaining instruments, and we're saving the worst ones for last."

"Now to start off," she said to him. "You will give yourself a hand spanking all over your bottom to make it nice and pink and warm it up. Use both hands at the same time, and cover the whole area. Begin."

Chad looked at his hands dubiously, then obediently cupped his bottom. He felt ridiculous raising them both and bringing them down on his own butt, making a soft smacking noise.

"Hard, young man. This isn't a gentle massage – it's a painful punishment! Now really smack your little butt!" she ordered. Chad tried again, smacking his butt harder. That stung! Mrs. Amahl nodded her approval, as the class began laughing at the sight of Chad smacking his own bare butt. Chad smacked his own butt several times again, trying to spread the spanks out to reduce the sting, but finding himself quickly becoming sensitive anyway. Mrs. Amahl made him continue until he'd given himself 15 double handed spanks. His face was flushed and he was breathing hard as she stopped him. A quick glance at his flanks revealed his bottom was indeed a blushing pink color.

Mrs. Amahl wasted no time handing him the first paddle, a simple flexible plastic affair with a wooden handle. "Roll the dice," she ordered. Chad started to turn his head to see the outcome, but she quickly snapped, "No looking at the dice – face forward! You may look no farther behind you than your own bottom!"

"Eight," one of the girls announced.

"Give yourself 8 hard swats, and remember that if any aren't hard enough, you have to do them again! Start now," Mrs. Amahl said.

Chad twisted to the right so that he could see the right side of his butt, then lined the paddle up in the center of it. He brought the paddle back, bit his lip, and snapped it down. The sting was surprising, as bad as if he'd been paddled by Mrs. Rose. "That was good enough, but only barely," Mrs. Amahl said. "Make the next one harder!"

Chad lifted the paddle and moved it to a lower spot, then smacked his right bun in the center. This time he overcompensated, causing a loud "whap" to echo as his butt stung in protest. "Good," Mrs. Amahl said. "Finish your other 6."

Chad found it more and more difficult to hit his butt on the right side with each of the two following spanks – the sting was starting to build painfully. He then shifted the paddle to his left hand, giving his left bun 4 matching spanks and making it just as hot. Mrs. Amahl approved of his work and handed him the next paddle, a polished heavy wooden affair. The dice were thrown, a seven coming up this time, and Chad lined the paddle up on his right bun, holding his breath and gritting his teeth. The first spank hit the side of his right bun, smarting something fierce. Chad shifted his next 2 blows further over, then switched hands. It took him 10 deep breaths to calm himself enough to smack his left bun three good blows, and he was letting out little gasps with each blow now as the sting flooded him. He paused, then swung at the upper center of his butt which was untouched and he hoped wouldn't hurt quite so much to strike. It hurt, but Mrs. Amahl was not happy with his 7th swat in the middle of his buns, forcing him to hit himself there twice more in succession to compensate, the last one bringing an audible yelp from Chad as the paddle struck, and he dropped his hand and stood there shivering and panting until Mrs. Amahl got his attention and he handed the paddle back.

The paddling continued with paddle after paddle. By the third paddle Chad had started shaking and whimpering as he forced himself to make hard enough swings to satisfy Mrs. Amahl, and each blow took him several deep breaths to settle enough to give himself the next one. Twice he wailed in despair when his swings were not considered sufficient and he had to apply two more with that paddle in the same spot. Tears were flowing freely down his face as he doggedly took the fifth paddle, this one like a ping-pong paddle with a knobby surface. Each stroke of that one made him cry out and squeeze his butt tightly for at least 10 seconds, but he made it through the mere 5 swats the dice had decreed. He began to cry softly, then more fiercely as he gave himself 8 blows with the next paddle, a wooden hairbrush with a flat oval back.

The following paddles got harder and harder to swat himself with as the paddles themselves got nastier and nastier. He had to repeat a number of swats, but fortunately for him the dice rolls stayed under 9. He was crying freely now, letting himself moan or cry out each time he struck his own butt, waiting until the pain subsided a bit before doing it again, trying to find a spot on his butt that didn't hurt quite as much as the others for his next target.

The 8th paddle was a long, narrow thing with 4 holes in the business end. "Base of the butt with this one," Mrs. Amahl ordered the crying Chad. "How many swats, girls?"

"Twelve," the girls responded gleefully. Chad looked at the dice table – both sixes were indeed on top.

"Make that 14 for looking at the dice," Mrs. Amahl said. "You were warned!"

Giving himself 14 swats with that nasty thing was the hardest thing Chad had been forced to do all day. His hand trembled and wavered, and he yelped and jumped with each swat, bawling freely in between. But he managed all 14 without having to repeat any of them, although it took him more than 2 minutes.

Chad was bawling more loudly now, snot flowing from his nose and puddling above his lip. Mrs. Amahl handed him the Stinger. "You've seen this one in action before, I think," she commented. "Bend forward half way to apply it, and make sure it goes into your bottom crack or you do it again!""

The roll of the dice was only 4 this time. Chad leaned forward on Mrs. Amahl, clutching her arm with his left hand and bending until his butt was partially spread. His butt crack felt extremely vulnerable as he held the Stinger high over his butt from above his back. He snapped his hand down, immediately lurching into Mrs. Amahl, unable to catch his breath at the moment with the sting of it. "Yeooooooooow!" he wailed, squeezing his buns tightly. The four new welts stung horribly, disconcertingly close to his pursed anus. "Ooow! Ooow!" After a half a minute, Mrs. Amalh shoved him back into position. He didn't want to do it again, but he had to. Shutting his eyes, he determined to give himself all three remaining swings in quick succession, hoping he'd be able to finish before the pain of it overwhelmed him. He flailed away at his butt crack three times in quick succession, then dropped the Stinger and straighted up, arching his back, clutching both buns. Chad jumped, howled, and danced around the floor. His strategy had literally come back to bite him, as on the final, least well controlled blow, he had managed to nail himself right on the butt hole with not just one, but two of the strings!

Mrs. Amahl stood watching him, tapping her foot impatiently, then finally spoke. "You're down two the two straps and the switch, young man, but you only have 5 minutes left. I suggest you pick up the pace."

Reducing the volume of his howling marginally, Chad managed to let go of his butt and turn his back to the class, still bobbing up and down, and accept the straight, single tailed strap. "You'll apply this to the centers of each of your buttocks," Mrs. Amahl commanded. Again Chad lucked out and the girls rolled only a 4. Chad tried to steady himself on his jelly legs, reaching around and lining the strap end up with the center of his right bun. He lifted it up, still bawling, and brought it down sharply. There was an odd hissing of the air, and then his right buttock blazed with new, indescribable pain as a streak of fire crossed his already sore skin. Chad shrieked and danced around the room, heedless of his comically bouncing genitals, trying to shake the stripe of pain away. After a minute, he realized time was passing, and moved more or less back into position, giving himself two quick blows on the left side. This time he screamed at the resulting pain, but while still screaming, leaned to the right and struck his right buttock one more time, finishing his series with the strap.

Mrs. Amahl looked at him approvingly as he danced and whooped, the dropped strap forgotten. She gave him a minute to calm down, then spoke loudly over his antics.

"Although this young man behaved abominably on Friday, today he has shown his acceptance of his responsibility by displaying great courage in his punishment, courage you bigger boys could learn something from. Because of his courage, I believe we should skip the two-tailed strap, and allow him to conclude with the willow switch. Do any of you girls object to that?" Mrs. Amahl asked, in a voice tone that suggested she didn't want to hear an objection. Not waiting, she took the willow switch and forced Chad to take it in his hand. He continued to bob and squeal, his genitals flopping as he twisted and wiggled.

Blubbering, Chad eventually took the switch and forced himself to hold still. This one's almost over, he thought to himself. Ride with it, he repeated over and over in his head. His butt was a mass of indescribable pain. Ride with it, ride with it, ride with it, he kept repeating. He couldn't stop bawling, but his brain was clinging to that one phrase. The girls with the dice tossed them a final time "Two," they shouted over his noise.

"T- t- te- te- te- tennnnnnnnnnn!" Chad wailed out. "I'MMMMM GIVIN' MYSELF TENNNNNNN!" he proclaimed. He began flailing at his butt with the switch, spreading the stripes all over, even letting the switch travel down his crack twice, leaving a line that ran down the center of his ball sack. Pain was his only hold on reality. Mrs. Amahl stepped forward. "That's enough, young man," she proclaimed, yanking the switch from his hand before he struck his seventh blow. "You've been punished enough by this class!" Chad stood hunched over, his body trembling all over, his butt welted and raw, squalling with every breath.

Mrs. Amahl was impressed. You had to admire a boy who recognized the inevitable and accepted it. She made a decision to diminish the aftereffects of his paddling.

"Nadir, Jesse, Lowell! One of you get the janitor's tub from the hall closet. You other two get a bucket of ice and a bucket of water from the lunchroom kitchen. And make it quick or you're next in line!" she ordered.

Chad, oblivious to the action, was hunched over, his hands supporting his body against his knees. Ride with it, ride with it, ride with it, his mind repeated, as the waves of pain threatened to roll over him. Yell as much as you want, let it come out, he reminded himself, not trying to be brave and crying freely. He wasn't even aware of the action in the room until Mrs. Amahl scooped him up like a toddler and deposited him, butt down, into a tub full of ice water. "Yeeeeeeeoooooooooouuuuup!" Chad squalled as the icy water made every tortured nerve in his butt stand on end and do jumping jacks. "Yeeeeeeow! Yeeeeeeeeow!"

After several minutes of whooping, blessed numbness diminished Chad's suffering, and he was able to settle down and dampen his crying. Eventually Chad's butt became somewhat numbed, the pain receding enough that he could stand. The 8th grade got an enormous kick out of his completely missing genitals, but then the lunch bell rang and the class lined up quickly and left. Chad was taken to the nurses' office for a quick examination, where he was stretched out on the exam table with a pillow under his stomach to raise his sore genitals from the table as the nurse surveyed his buttock damage.

"This shows excellent punishment technique," Mrs. Martinez, the nurse, said, waving a hand over Chad's butt. "You'll notice he's painfully bruised and the skin irritated, but there are no breaks anywhere, not even where the switch hit his anus."

"I did it," Chad whispered. "I actually did it myself." His butt ached continuously and screamed with pain when he tried to move. The nurse rubbed antiseptic ointment on Chad's posterior while he whimpered, then stood him up so she could meticulously examine his penis. It also was coated with ointment, then he was placed back on the table with the pillow cushioning him and told he could rest until the afternoon punishments began.

"Conserve you strength, young man," Mrs. Hendricks added, going to lunch herself. "You're going to need it." Chad and his mother were left alone in the room, his mother stroking his hair while she washed his face with a cold cloth.

"I'm proud of you so far," she said to him. "You've accepted your punishments as if you're finally getting the message.

"It hurts," Chad muttered. "But I know I need it, so I'm holding it close to me and not fighting it. But it still hurts." He shifted position and moaned as his butt muscles complained. He tried to hold still. Some minutes passed, then he stirred again. "They're going to do my poo hole and my balls this afternoon, aren't they?"

His mother nodded. "I guess there's no point in me making it a secret – the pattern is pretty obvious – they started with the easier punishments, and they're moving to harder and harder stuff as we go. The worst thing is last."

"I don't want to know what it is," Chad said. "I mean, I do want to know, but it'll be better if I don't. I just want to ride it as I go along."

"Good," his mother said. "It's best if you don't know. But I'll give you something to hold onto. After the school bell rings, the punishments are over. You'll have to stand in the school yard for 20 minutes, but just for the kids to look at, not to be punished. Then we'll go home, and start the healing process. You'll have to do chores next week, and you're going to do all your school work at home even though you're suspended, but you won't be punished any more after the bell rings unless you do something else."

There was a longer pause. "I'll probably mess up again, eventually," Chad said. "But I promise it won't be for a long time, and even then I won't hit or push anyone."

His mother leaned over and kissed his cheek. "I'll hold you to that promise," she said. Chad cradled his head in his arms and tried to relax. But a voice in his head wouldn't let him. It was almost like a chant, and it repeated over and over. Butt hole and balls, butt hole and balls, next thing up is butt hole and balls!