Tommy's Attitude Adjustment Chapter 4

Tommy's Attitude Adjustment Chapter 4
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 4: Third Time's a Charm

"Something funny's going on," Chad said to Cynthia, sitting next to him at lunch. He'd made sure to stick by her in the lunch line, so that he could sit next to her casually without betraying intent on his part. Jimmy Chen and Alan Delvecchio sat across from them, and Joey Turpin was sitting next to Chad, his gang from 8th grade scattered down the table. The four boys had become somewhat bonded together by their shared experience of being spanked naked in front of the class. "Randy had a blue folder in his pack in the boys' restroom before school. I'd swear he did. Yet when he got to the classroom a few minutes later it was gone. He couldn't possibly have lost it along the way," Chad continued.

"Yeah," Jimmy Chen said. "I saw it too. And S. F. is the last guy who'd have a Hustler magazine at school," he added. "His Dad's some kind of preacher, isn't he? He's so embarrassed about sex that he turns red if you say 'boobs' in front of him."

"They were nice boobs, too," Joey commented. "Hustler's kind of tame compared to the Russian stuff, but it's not bad." Joey had intimate experience with internet porn of all kinds, in part because her older sister produced and marketed internet porn of her own.

Chad and Cynthia together glanced at the front of the room, where S. F. and Randy Martinez were sitting on the punishment chairs with their legs spread, glumly chewing on their punishment bread meals. A 3rd grade boy had been spanked that morning as well and was also on punishment display. Chad had noticed as the boy had been standing in line that he must have been seriously bad, because he was being led along by his little worm of a penis by a blond- haired girl, and his butt was red and welted all over in a fashion he hadn't seen in any but the oldest children. They boy cried softly in the lunch line and continued crying after he'd been deposited in the punishment seat, shifting continuously on a painfully sore butt and constantly having to be reminded by the lunch monitor, "get those legs apart!" A group of 3th grade girls was standing in front of the three boys at the moment, making giggling comparisons between their classmate's flaccid, droopy circumcised little boy penis, Randy's barely protuberant button, and S. F.'s snaky appendage, which was long enough that it lay across the seat of the chair with the foreskin drooping over the edge. S. F.'s abnormally white skin was blushing red from his face all the way to his chest.

"We'd all understand if you had a magazine like that, " Alan said to Joey. "It would be right in character. But S. F.?"

Cynthia put down her fork and looked at Alan thoughtfully. "It's all in the eyes," she said.

"Huh?" Jimmy responded.

"You boys don't look people in the face like we girls do. If you did, you'd have a better idea when things are going on. I tell you, it's all in their eyes," Cynthia insisted.

"I don't get it." Alan asked.

"Well, take Randy Martinez, for starters. I saw him when he opened his pack and his report wasn't there. He wasn't faking – he was genuinely astonished. And when he kept insisting he'd written the paper and he'd just had it, he looked The Nose right in the eyes, and his own eyes were completely sincere," Cynthia stated.

"Yeah, but…" Jimmy said.

"And another thing," Cynthia continued. "I happened to be looking his way when S. F. looked down at the magazine after it fell. His eyes actually bugged out of his head for a moment. You don't do that when it's yours, you look guilty."

"So where did Randy's report go, and where did the magazine come from?' Chad asked, finding himself more and more intrigued by this line of discussion.

"I tell you, it's all in the eyes. Did you look at Emily today, when Randy's report came up missing? That's the first place I looked. She didn't look just surprised and happy, like she does every time it looks like she's about to beat one of you guys' little white butts. She looked positively triumphant. Like you do when you work for something and it comes out just right. I'm sure she knew it was going to happen in advance. And the S. F. thing," Cynthia added. "She was looking over her shoulder that way every so often all morning. Like she knew what was coming."

"Don't look," Alan suddenly interjected. "But she's looking at Chad that way, right now."

"Of course she is," Cynthia said. "She's got something else in the works! You need to watch your step this afternoon, Chad. She's up to something, and I'll bet anything that it involves you."

"You'll bet anything?" Jimmy said slyly. "Anything?"

Cynthia looked at the leering boy levelly. "I'm so sure of it, you little horn dog, that yes, I'd bet anything. Even the things you're thinking. Because I am right, you know! If you bet me, you're going to have to pay up. Little Miss Bitch is up to something, and it's going to be soon do I get if I'm right? So go ahead, put your money where your mouth is – if you think I'm wrong, what are you willing to put on the line?"

"How about, if you lose, you have to do it with me, and if I lose, I have to do it with you," Jimmy said, smirking.

"How about I kick your butt all the way home today," Cynthia countered. She looked thoughtfully across the room at Emily, who was laughing with Celeste now. Jimmy subsided into silence.

Chad and Jimmy got up at the same time and emptied their trays, walking over to where the three boys sat, momentarily alone. Chad made a point of avoiding looking at their genitals, a more difficult thing to do than before because Randy had developed a hard-on again, and that hook jutting up from his crotch was a real attention getter. The third grader was still crying softly but was disconsolately chewing on his tasteless bread. Chad patted him on the arm. "Hang in there, little guy," he said sympathetically. "I know it burns, but it gets less sore after awhile – believe me, I know all about being paddled."

The little guy gulped and looked at Chad with teary eyes. "It hurts so bad!" he managed to choke out. "And they won't let me rub it!" He nodded at his now erect little penis, which Chad couldn't help noticing looked like a slightly smaller version of his own. With its smooth skin and its symmetry, it was positively cute sticking up between his legs. Chad looked away, disturbed by the observation. "And the girls keep touching my pee-wee," he squeaked. "They made it all hard and tickly!"

"They like doing that," Chad said. "Girls like dicks." He was proud of himself for saying the word "dick." A few weeks ago he wouldn't have been able to make himself use a taboo word like that, but his weeks of punishment had changed things in him.

"I don't know why – all they're good for is peeing," the boy muttered. He went back to chewing bread. Chad smiled in spite of himself – boy, this kid had a lot to learn about dicks and the fun they could be! He moved on to his classmates. Jimmy was already in earnest conversation with them.

"Cynthia thinks you guys getting into trouble is fishy," Jimmy was saying. "She thinks Bitchy is behind it somehow."

"I had it in the bathroom, I swear," Randy said, speaking for the first time. "So where did it go?"

Chad remembered seeing Emily walking up the first row just after he'd handed in his report. "Emily was by your desk when you went across the room," he said. "Maybe she grabbed it then."

"With no one seeing her? That's pretty unlikely," Jimmy argued.

"Yeah, well I never saw that magazine before in my life, either" S. F. added.

"But it was in your folder, and it was your dad's! Your dad's!" Jimmy challenged. "I thought your dad was some sort of holy roller!"

"Yeah, well, I guess he was different in college. But I never saw it before, honestly," S. F. said earnestly. "I didn't even know he had stuff like that. And I can't figure how it got in my folder."

"Emily," Chad said flatly. "Come to think of it, she was over by your side of the room just before that – I wondered at the time why she was over there. She probably planted it."

"That doesn't explain how she got his pop's old magazine to start with," Jimmy insisted.

"Maybe she broke into his house and stole it," Chad said. "I don't know. It doesn't matter, we can't prove she did it, anyway, and if we accuse her you know what happens."

Jimmy reached back and rubbed his butt – "Yeah," he said. "I remember all too well what happens."

S. F. shifted uncomfortably on his own sore bottom. "How long does it hurt?" he asked Chad and Jimmy. "My butt still feels like it's on fire."

"I don't know how long it hurts with that shock paddle," Chad said honestly. "But normal bare butt paddlings hurt all the rest of the day and into the next one."

"Great, just great," S. F. said.

S. F. shifted positions. His penis twitched, threatening to become hard again. "What do you think The Nose meant when she said you were getting potty trained this afternoon?" Jimmy asked him, never capable of any form of tact. S. F. grimaced, and his penis began shrinking at the thought.

"Don't know," he said, not wanting to talk or even think about it. Belatedly Jimmy realized this might not be S. F.'s favorite subject right now. S. F. changed topics. "I gotta tell my folks I got spanked," he said. "My mom will freak. She caught me looking at girls on the computer once and spanked me bare for like an hour!"

"But it was you dad's magazine," Jimmy countered. "You could try going on the offensive. Ask them why your dad got magazines like that. How can they blame you for having something that he once had himself."

"I don't know," S. F. said glumly. "But they will."

His mom will blame his dad, Chad thought to himself. They'll have a big fight about it, his dad will stalk out of the house, and then his mom will probably take it out on his butt. He felt sorry for poor S. F. and what he'd be facing when he got home.

Appearing suddenly behind the boys, Lindsay suddenly intruded herself into the conversation "Looking for an after meal snack, Chad?" she asked nastily. "Those two don't have much to offer a guy with your appetites, but this one – I might even throw Joey aside for this one." She gathered S. F.'s droopy penis in her fist and looked at the protruding head appreciatively. Chad blushed with humiliation at her reference to his oral punishments of two weeks ago and backed away. Emily was stalking toward the group as well, looking purposeful, and a third grade girl was already grasping the smaller boy's penis to yank him back to class.

"Time to round up the animals and take them back to their pens," Lindsay said cheerfully. Chad and Jimmy scattered in two separate directions, fleeing as rapidly as possible to the quad, where they enjoyed a few minutes of fresh air before the bell signaling the return to class. Despite the fact it was early October, Indian Summer was in full force and the air was a comfortable temperature. Cynthia joined them outside, where they speculated some more concerning whether Emily could possibly be behind the odd events of the morning, and if so whether Chad and Jimmy were also on her list for future odd happenings.

When the bell rang, Jimmy and Chad returned with their classmates to the classroom, where Randy and S. F. were standing with their noses against the blackboard, their butts on display to the class, while Emily watched them from her desk, turning to smirk at Chad knowingly as he walked in. Chad pointedly tried not to look Randy's fat butt as he shifted from foot to foot, his two round orbs looking like two cats having a fight in a burlap bag every time he moved. He also tried not to look at S. F.'s more muscular boy butt, still blotchy red in the centers and contrasting sharply with his stark white legs. Mrs. Rose curtly dismissed the two bare-bottomed boys to their own seats, and Chad got out his book and began reading, noting right away that Emily was sitting sideways in her chair, pretending to read, but watching him and smirking instead. Maybe Cynthia was right – maybe she was up to something. Glancing around nervously, he suddenly noticed that Cynthia was watching Emily surreptitiously over her own book. The whole tableau made him nervous – was she really up to something, and did he need Cynthia's watchful protection?

The normal classroom routine continued until about 1:30, or as normal as the routine could be with two bare-bottomed boys sitting in the class, hunching over to try to protect their privates from view as best they could. At one point during math all the students were called upon to work problems on the board, going up in groups of 5, with Chad ending up standing beside the butt naked S. F. in the first group to be called upon. He tried very hard not to glance sideways at S. F.'s swaying penis as hopped around, busily working on his algebraic equation, but it was tough to ignore what looked like a wriggling snake dangling from the boy's groin, especially as it was right next to Chad.

As luck would have it, Emily's one girl rooting section, Celeste, was on Chad's other side and caught him giving S. F.'s crotch a sideways glance. Leaning toward him, she said, loud enough to be heard by the other kids at the board, "Try not to slobber so. Besides, you'd never get it all in your mouth anyway." Big Sam, who'd been struggling mightily with his equation on her other side, burst into such loud laughter that for a moment it looked like Mrs. Rose was going to take issue with it, but she merely frowned at him and began going over S. F.'s problem with the class, forcing him to face them with his penis on display as she did. After the next round of 5 students, it was Randy's turn to appear bare-bottomed in front of the class, his amazing disappearing penis making a stark contrast to S. F.'s long, pointed one. Celeste made a point of muttering, "Chad would never get that in his mouth, either – he wouldn't be able to find it," again sending Big Sam into hysterics, this time so great he began coughing and had to go out for water to settle his throat.

At 2:00, Mrs. Rose ordered the class to study their history chapter in preparation for Monday's test. All of the class, that is, except for S. F., who was ordered to the front of the room, and Lindsay, who was told to come to assist. All the kids in class made a show of staring at their texts, but all were doing so with a substantial part of their attention to the front, waiting to see what Mrs. Rose was going to do. She had placed a medium-sized rubber toy bucket borrowed from the kindergarten in the middle of the front of the classroom. "Stand right there facing the front of the classroom and touch your toes, Mr. Farlow, she told S. F. firmly. "It's time you learned proper hygiene for boys when using the toilet." S. F. blushed deeply, but got into position and bent down, touching his toes. His furiously blushing face peeked out from between his legs. His long penis hung down like an arrow pointed at the floor. The sharp contrast between his white butt crack, his tight pink butt hole, and the red, spanked surface of his buns was striking. Mrs. Rose took a can from her desk with a paintbrush sticking out of it and dipped the brush in the can. "I have chocolate pudding here that I got from the lunchroom today, Mr. Farlow. It has a reasonably realistic color and a consistency quite suitable for our purposes. I'm going to dab a quantity in the area of your anus, and then you will sit down on the bucket like it was a toilet and you had just finished defecating." Several students began giggling. Mrs. Rose ignored them. Excited grins were popping up all over the classroom, especially among the girls. Emily was smirking openly – this was going to be fun!

Mrs. Rose continued. "You will then take toilet paper from the roll and wipe your bottom clean, dropping the toilet paper in the bucket just as you'd drop it in the toilet. You will be allowed to use two wads of paper on yourself, and then I'll check you for cleanliness. I'll be inspecting both your hand and your bottom. If you have any pudding on either one, I'll wipe you off and your D.A. will give you two swats from Mr. Sparky, and then we'll try again,. We'll keep trying until you learn to wipe yourself like a big boy and not like a toddler."

S. F., still touching his toes, blushed even more deeply. He could feel the way this jackknifed position made his balls and his dick stick out between his legs where Mrs. Rose had a bird's eye view at the moment. He felt cold wetness on his butt hole and the skin between his legs as she dabbed pudding onto his butt. "You may be seated," she said. "Face the class when you sit."

Following instructions and blushing red as a beet, S. F. sat primly on the bucket, which felt very much like a toilet seat under him. He dared a glance at the class, only to find that almost the entire class was staring at him openly, waiting to watch him wipe his butt in front of them. Mrs. Rose was handing him a wad of toilet paper. Trapped, he took it and leaned to one side, wincing as his sore butt complained, and wiped from the top of his butt crack down past his hole, trying to get all the pudding off of himself. He could feel the pudding oozing under the paper and seeping into the wrinkles of his butt hole. Dropping the used paper, he took a second wad from her and wiped his butt again, this time scrubbing his hole vigorously as well, his performance earning loud laughter from the class. He couldn't stand the way they were looking at him, each on knowing where his hand was and what it was doing. He had to have gotten it all by now, anyway, he decided. He glanced at the class, where a few people, most notably Chad, looked at him with pity, but open grins at the sight of the little boy wiping his butt in front of the class predominated.

"I'm done," he half whispered to Mrs. Rose, standing up. Lindsay had fetched the paddle and was standing to one side of the bucket.

Mrs. Rose turned him around so his butt faced the class and ordered him to bend over again, inspecting carefully between his widely spread buns. Those in the front of the class could see the residual pudding smeared in the wrinkles of his pink little butt hole and the streak running to the base of his rather large balls. "This is the best you could do?" Mrs. Rose asked contemptuously, taking a wad of paper and roughly wiping down S. F.'s butt, burrowing into his butt hole with her fingernails like a groundhog taking up residence. She waved the soiled paper in front of his nose. "That wasn't even close to clean," she said. "Lindsay, give him two swats with the setting on 5."

S. F. winced on the first blow and bit back a yelp on the second, but managed to stay in the bent over position as Lindsay gave him two firm smacks on his sore spots where she'd spanked him previously. Keeping him in position, Mrs. Rose dabbed more pudding on his butt. As S. F.'s butt hole was slightly recessed compared to the upper part of his butt crack and the area between his legs, the pudding settled there easily, making a prominent brown spot. Cynthia, experienced in baby sitting, thought to herself as she watched from her seat that it did look remarkably realistic – she'd had toddler boys in just that position in the past, with brown smudges in that location remarkably like the one on S. F. Emily, on the other hand, was thinking how clever she was and how this had worked out much better than she'd planned.

The cycle repeated, with S. F. sitting, wiping earnestly and shamefacedly, standing with his butt facing the class, and once again failing the test. This time he yelped openly on each of his two swats. Mrs. Rose applied pudding again, and then S. F. tried once more, sitting gingerly and obviously uncomfortable on his newly spanked buns. His fervor in scrubbing his butt was comical this time, and he took his time about it, pulling the paper out and examining it, folding it over to get a clean side, and then scrubbing himself some more. Finally, satisfied, he stood up, sure he'd gotten it this time. Indeed, upon bending over and presenting his butt to the class, Mrs. Rose acknowledged that he had indeed cleaned himself this time, ordering him to stand up straight again and face the class. But just as he heaved a sigh of relief, she snatched his wiping hand and held it out under her gaze, pointing with her other hand to the pudding he'd smeared on the side of his finger.

"Lick it off," she said.

S. F. looked at her in horror. "But, but, but it's been on my butt!" he protested.

"Yes, and every boy in this school should have a bottom clean enough to eat off of. Now lick it off or I'll apply Mr. Sparky to a very uncomfortable place, if you get my drift," Mrs. Rose replied.

Looking sick, S. F. cautiously flicked his tongue at his finger, licking off the offending smear. Then it was back to touching his toes for the fourth application of pudding. Chad noticed that S. F.'s butt crack was becoming visibly red and sore from the irritation of all that wiping. Mrs. Rose missed S. F.'s anus slightly this time, depositing the pudding slightly below his butt hole and trailing down the back of his sack. Still, she insisted he seat himself and wipe, arguing, "You never know where fecal material will go when you're doing your business, young man. You might suddenly be stricken with diarrhea. You have to be ready to deal with it."

Naturally S. F. failed to get all the pudding out of his deeply wrinkled sack, so Mrs. Rose kept him bent over while she reached around and pressed his sack toward from the front and scrubbed it roughly from behind, causing serious discomfort to his bulging balls. Than Lindsay, showing no mercy, gave him two more firm whacks, so that by the time Mrs. Rose had dabbed pudding on S. F. again, this time hitting his butt hole squarely, and he'd sat down, tears were streaking down his face. He wiped desperately and thoroughly this time, folding both pieces of paper and reusing it several times, scrubbing himself under his butt like a man possessed. Finally, hesitantly, he stood up again.

"Please," he ventured as he bent over. "I'm really trying! But it's hard! And I'm getting sore!"

Indeed he was. As he bent down this time, Chad could see along with the whole class that S. F.'s butt hole was now bright red rather than pink, and the area of his formerly white butt crack near his anus was a deep pink as well. Mrs. Rose inspected him closely for several moments, than straightened him up and inspected his hands. "All right," she said. "You did it once. Now you do it again."

S. F., hoping he was done this time, began crying softly. "But it hurrrts!" he protested.

"Get into position, Mr. Farlow," Mrs. Rose said sharply. "Give him two more swats, Lindsay, for disobedience."

Mercilessly, Lindsay gave S. F. his 2 swats, making him cry audibly. In between his buns went the brush, hitting his red, irritated butt hole square on this time. His face was tear-streaked as he settled uncomfortably on the bucket and prepared to wipe himself in view of his classmates yet again. Once again he went through the wiping process, leaning to one side, scrubbing his sore crack and hole over and over, turning the paper and checking it after each effort, and finally giving up and hoping for the best. He cried continuously through the entire process.

Fortunately for him, his butt and butt hole were pudding free this time as well. Mrs. Rose made him apologize to Lindsay for having to take the time to paddle his naughty butt, and to the class for having to witness his potty training. The she indicated the bucket. "Take this bucket to the hall trash can and dump it, then go wash it out in the boys' room. "Mr. Martinez, you go with him."

Randy gave a jump. "But I'm naked," he protested.

"No you're not. You're only half naked. Your top half is completely covered. And Mr. Farlow is in the same condition," Mrs. Rose snapped. "You're a matched set. Now go! And carry the bucket between you."

Randy got up slowly and walked to the front, his buns doing their imitation of two cats fighting in a burlap bag as he walked. He and S. F. carried the bucket slowly out of the room, neither able to hide his privates behind it while carrying it between them. Mrs. Rose smiled inwardly. Maybe they'd meet someone in the hall—that would add to their embarrassment.

In the boys' restroom, which they'd been fortunate to gain without meeting a soul, Randy spoke earnestly in a low voice to S. F.

"I wrote my report, and I brought it! It isn't fair! She doesn't even listen to us, she just hands us over to Lamsey or Bitchy! Meanwhile, the girls get away with murder!" he griped.

S. F. stood on his tiptoes, trying to examine his red, welted butt in the mirror. "It burns," he complained. "And she doesn't care – she just kept popping me just as hard as before! And I didn't do it, either! I mean, it's my Dad's magazine, I guess, but I never had it! Jimmy's right – Bitchy set us up somehow. My mom will probably cut off my balls when I get home today!"

Randy gaped. "Really? She'd cut them off?"

S. F. looked at him with scorn. "No, you idiot. No one cuts of boys' balls, or they wouldn't have any
grandchildren, would they! I just mean she'll be mad. I'll probably get paddled."

"I knew that," Randy said, somewhat relieved. He knew, as did all the boys in school, about Chad's soccer goal punishment during the gauntlet and for a moment he'd almost taken S. F. literally.

"We'd better get back," S. F. said, drying the bucket with towels that had finally materialized after the container had been empty all day. The two managed to get back to the classroom without incident. Randy, hustling breathlessly behind S. F., spent the trip envying the smaller boy for his trim, pert, normal little butt, so much more attractive than his own. What he'd give to have a butt like that – without the red, welted patches in the lower center, of course!

As the end of the day approached, both boys were called up, one at a time, to apologize once again to the class, repeat their supposed transgressions, and publicly redress. Mrs. Rose returned to her desk to gather her things to make a quick exit, opening her top drawer and frowning. She poked around it in, then turned her frown to the class. "If I could have your attention, class," she said, pausing. "I seem to be missing a small pocket book from my desk drawer. It had the cash in it from the PTA bake sale – I was going to take it to the bank after school."

No one spoke – kids were looking at each other in silence, or looking down at their hands, hoping not to be accused. Emily looked like the cat that had swallowed the canary. There is something about her eyes, Chad thought to himself.

After a time, Mrs. Rose went on. "I don't see any way it could have just walked out on its own. But I'll find it. All of you – line up with your backpacks right now! I'm going to search everyone's backpack as you leave today, just to make sure the PTA's money doesn't walk out of here. I'll also be searching your persons at the same time."

Searching our persons? Chad thought. That probably meant feeling the boys all over, probably even patting their crotches and butts – that would be just like Mrs. Rose. Of course, the thing was probably too big to hide in someone's crotch or between someone's butt cheeks. He glanced at Randy Martinez. Well maybe not too big for everyone. Randy could hide a whole Federal Reserve Bank in there.

There was considerable commotion as children gathered their packs and jockeyed for position in line. Emily kept looking at Chad and smirking. Mrs. Rose waited until they were all lined up. Then she spoke up again. "Oh, by the way, if any of you thought you might escape punishment by hiding it in your desks, never fear – If I don't find it on any of you, I'm going to search everyone's desks next."

Emily waited smugly for her turn to be searched. Good thing she'd gone back at lunch time and slipped that extra Hustler magazine and Randy's report behind the bookcase! But it had been part of her plan, just like slipping the PTA pocketbook out of Mrs. Rose's desk silently after they'd delivered Fleadork and that ridiculous little vampire kid to the classroom and she'd volunteered to watch them while Lindsay snuck off to slobber all over that Turpin kid. It was risky, but she'd managed it, and she'd also managed to sneak the pocketbook into Chad's desk, where it would certainly be found by Mrs. Rose in just a bit. Chad would have quite a surprise waiting for him on Monday.

Mrs. Rose took her time searching each pack and patting each student down. Of course, she examined the boys more intimately and thoroughly than the girls, but given her feeling about boys and their tendencies toward evil that wasn't surprising. She also kept an eagle eye on the line. At one point Joey stepped to one side while horsing around with Big Sam, and she snapped, "Back in line gentlemen! You don't think I'm going to give anyone the opportunity to slip away and possibly divest themselves of incriminating evidence, do you?" Joey stepped quickly back in line, still remembering his trip over her lap almost 3 weeks before.

When it was Chad's turn, he stood stoically as Mrs. Rose inserted her rather large nose into his pack and then poked through it carefully. Setting it down, she started at his shoulders and rand her hands over his body, pressing her fingertips all the way into his butt crack as she reached his bottom, then feeling the outline of his genitals carefully, as if he could hide anything around or under them. His penis twitched at her touch and she frowned at him as if his involuntary reactions were under his control, than began feeling on down the insides of his thighs and then the outsides of his pants. As had the children before him, he was forced to take off his shoes so she could search them, and then he was released. In the hall, he squatted down by Jimmy Chen, who was taking his time tying his own shoes and talking in low tones to Joey, who was standing beside him.

"I'm not saying I wouldn't sometimes pick up some loose cash if it was floating around," Joey was saying to Jimmy as he squatted down to put on his own shoes. "But if I was going to steal money, I'd make sure it was enough money to bother with. How much could the PTA have had? A hundred, tops! And you never steal anything in a closed room – it's too hard to get it back out of the room. Anyway, everyone knows you don't steal from people who know you – it's too easy for them to get you back. I don't piss where I eat." He stood up. "Speaking of which …he turned and sauntered down the hall toward the bathroom.

"Colorful," Alan said, who'd been standing at the side pulling on his slip-ons.

"But he's right," Jimmy said. "A guy would be a fool to take something out of Mrs. Rose's desk in the middle of the school day. How could you avoid getting caught? She's got her beady little eyes on everything. Why would someone take those kinds of chances?"

"Search me," Chad said.

"She already did – she searched us all," Alan said sardonically. "I thought she was going to give me a hand job, she poked around my crotch for so long."

"Yeah," Jimmy said. "Well, she poked and prodded my dick so much that I gotta take a leak now."

"Me too," Chad said. "The whole thing is weird, though."

The three boys trudged down the hall and into the boys' restroom. Joey was washing his hands, and two of his friends from 8th grade were plying combs while looking smugly into the mirrors. Chad, Jimmy, and Alan lined up in a row against the urinals, with Chad on the end. A smaller 8th grader than Joey's friends entered and stepped up beside Chad at the fourth urinal, flipping out his penis and glancing over the top of the urinal at Chad's. Chad's urinary sphincter clamped down in nervousness at the boy's scrutiny. He looked down and tried to will it to open up, hoping the boy would look away. He finally managed to get a little dribble flowing that served to empty his bladder but also managed to leak into his fingers and wet them, too. When he glanced up nervously a moment later while still dribbling, the boy was still staring at his penis. As Chad looked away, the boy stepped away from the urinal, shaking his own tool as he did and then holding it out toward Chad. "Hey, wanna lick it off for me," he said mockingly. "I hear you like to suck guys off."

"Hey, leave Chad alone," Jimmy said, stepping back after having put his own penis away. "He hates sucking guys as much as the rest of us – he only did it because they made him. You'd do the same thing in his place," he challenged.

Chad blushed and kept his eyes down. His dribbling finally wound down, a good portion rolling under his penis to his fingers and dribbling off of them. His cheeks burned at the boy's comments about him liking to suck cocks. He wished Jimmy would just let the kid go away rather than trying to defend him. He glanced over his shoulder furtively, hoping the boy had gone out the door. He was standing just behind Chad and to one side of him, still holding his penis out suggestively. It really wasn't that big or impressive, Chad noted. It probably wasn't more than 4 inches long, and hardly any thicker than Jimmy's. "No I wouldn't," the boy said, challenging Jimmy's assertion. "Never in a million years would I suck another kid's dick! A real man wouldn't suck another guys' cock no matter how much some bitch dyke threatened him. You could threaten to cut his balls off and he'd still never do it. Unless he was gay or something. That's it, isn't it? You're gay."

Chad didn't see what happened next. But there was a thump and scuffling noises, and by the time he'd tucked his penis away and turned to see what was going on, Joey's two friends were holding the boy bent backwards over the sink, one dragging his arms over his head, the other squatting on the floor holding his legs on either side of his body in a death grip. Joey tossed his paper towel away and approached the boy's midsection. "Cover his mouth," he said casually to Jimmy. Jimmy stepped over and clamped the hand he'd been peeing with firmly over the boy's mouth. "Lower his pants," he ordered Alan. Alan, reluctant to make body contact with another boy given the rumors that were floating around about him, but more afraid to disobey Joey, unsnapped the boy's pants and pulled them down. "Get his boxers, too," Joey commanded next. Alan, hesitant but obedient, gingerly grasped the bottom edges of the boy's flannel boxers and yanked them to his ankles. The boy's penis flopped out, arching over his bulging scrotum and framed by a bush of curly brown hair. Hairs stuck out of the base of the boy's penis and here and there from his balls as well. He struggled fruitlessly against his captors, obviously frightened.

Joey didn't hesitate. He took the other boy's penis, gripped it firmly, yanked it upward out of the way, and gave him a full-force, open-handed slap on the bulging, wrinkled sack. Air whooshed out of the boy's nose and he groaned loudly and began retching, his pelvic muscles contracting without effect, his stomach heaving. Jimmy kept his hand firmly over the boy's mouth, and the other two held him into position despite his struggles. Joey waited for the boy to stop retching and let the explosion of pain in the kid's balls sink in for a minute. Then he said, almost casually, "You talk big about dick sucking. You must like to do it yourself. How about you go over and suck my man Chad's dick for him and let him come in your mouth?"

"Joey, I don't want…" Chad began.

"Shut up," Joey said. "No one asked your opinion. I'm talking to this guy. You feel like sucking Chaddie boy's dick?"

The boy stared at Joey, his balls throbbing with that dull, overpowering ache that every male knows too well, his terror so great his bowels were churning. "You're taking too long to answer," Joey said. He gave the boy's penis another vicious yank and brought his open hand down on the projecting wrinkled sack again, making a loud slap. The boy jerked, a louder moan escaping Jimmy's hand as the thrashed to escape and began retching again. Tears were trickling out of the corners of his eyes.

"Feel like sucking Chad's dick now?" Joey asked pleasantly after waiting for the retching to stop. "Or do I do it again?"

The boy hesitated, then nodded his head "yes" wildly. "Yes to what? Yes you'll suck his dick? Or yes, you want another smack?"

Jimmy uncovered the boy's mouth for a moment. He moaned audibly, then said, hoarsely, "No more. Please, no more!"

"So you'll suck my boy's dick until he comes in your mouth, and swallow his cum?" Joey said, raising his hand and gripping the boy's dick harder.

The boy shrank back, his face white. "Yeah," he said frantically. "Don't hit me!"

"I don't think that's enough," Joey said. "I think you should suck all these kids' dicks. You think you could do that, or do you want to see how it feels to get punched in the balls instead of slapped?" He made his hand into a fist and poised it over the kid's crotch.

"Noooooo! The boy squealed. "I'll do it! I'll suck them all!"

"Joey!" Chad said. "Let him go! I don't wanna be sucked, and neither do Jimmy or Alan." The other two boys nodded.

"Well, why didn't you say so?" Joey said, glaring at the frightened 8th grader. "You hear that, asswipe? My boys don't want your scumball mouth on their nice clean dicks. So I guess you get a reprieve. But I think I've made my point – you'll do anything when your balls are on the line, and so will any other boy. My boy Chad did what he had to do to save his balls, and so would you." He walked to the boy's head and grabbed his hair, bending down so he was looking the frightened boy in the eyes. "Spread the word – anyone else makes fun of my boy or his friends for doing what they to do gets the same lesson you just got. Now get out of here and don't let me see you near any of my crew."

Joey's friends released the boy, who snatched up his pants and underpants with shaking hands and raced out the door, not even stopping to zip up until he'd escaped.

There was a moment of silence, then Jimmy burst out laughing, joined by Joey's two friends. "Did you see his butt as he pulled up his pants," Jimmy chortled, unable to stop laughing. "He shit himself, he was so scared! It was running down his leg! And then he just pulled has pants on over top of it! And he rides the bus home!" He bent double, overcome with hysterics.

Chad looked at Joey, unable to express his feelings. He was grateful, yes, but he also was humiliated because he'd needed rescue. He had sucked Alan, and Tommy, and all those little boys in the 4th grade, and he'd done it with only the merest threat of punishment, not while his balls were being pummeled. Sucking boys was a bit gross, and he certainly didn't go around wanting to do it, but it didn't fill him with revulsion like he thought it should. And he liked having his own wiener sucked, he had to admit. If he shut his eyes, it really didn't matter who was doing the sucking – he'd never been sucked by a girl, but he suspected it wouldn't feel any different, although the thought of a girl wanting to do that to him made his wiener lurch in his pants and start to erect. He just wished the whole thing would die down and people would forget what he'd done to other boys to avoid worse punishment. He just wished it all would go away.

Alan wasn't laughing – he just quietly washed his hands, shouldered his pack, and slipped out the door as quicklys he could. Joey had stopped laughing and bid his friends goodbye as they left as well. "What's with him?" he asked, pointing at the door where the retreating Alan had gone. "He don't like it when I hit kids in the balls for educational purposes?"

"He's embarrassed," Jimmy said. "Because his mom made him do Chad at the same time Chad did him, and somehow word got around, and they pick on him, too. They don't pick on him as much as Chad, because he didn't have to suck the entire 4th grade, but they still pick on him."

Jimmy doesn't know the half of it, Chad thought to himself. He thinks Alan was forced to suck me by our parents, just like I was forced to suck him. But Chad was pretty sure that Alan hadn't found the experience as distasteful as him. In fact, from their experience in the nurse's shower three weeks before, he was pretty sure that, given the opportunity and the right boy (and he suspected he'd fit that criterion in Alan's mind), Alan would do it voluntarily, and enjoy the experience. But of course he didn't dare voice his knowledge, even to Jimmy – if anyone knew that the boy who he'd sucked and who'd sucked him was gay, both of them would suffer more for it, and he'd be branded with the same label as Alan.

Even though Cynthia lived the other direction from school, she was waiting by the gate when the two boys emerged and she walked toward Chad's house with him and Jimmy.

"You guys took forever," she said. "I almost gave up. Your brother Tommy said to tell you he went on ahead, because his friend is coming over."

"There was an incident in the boys' room," Jimmy said, grinning. "Some 8th grader tried to call Chad a cocksucker, and Joey demonstrated to him that any boy would do it if his balls were on the line." He chuckled evilly. "The kid shit his pants, he was so scared."

Chad tried to change the subject. "What do you think happened to the PTA money?" he ventured.

"Don't know, don't care," Jimmy said quickly. "Joey said it was too small a score for him to worry about, so it was probably someone else. Man, did you see the way that guy gave in when Joey started smacking his balls? He'd have sucked us all to get away!"

"I don't see what the big deal is," Cynthia said. "It might be kind of nice to give a boy pleasure that way. That is, if it was the right boy."

"Like me?" Jimmy said, elbowing her.

"Definitely not like you," Cynthia said. "I've seen yours – it looks like a big turd. I'd probably throw up. I'm talking about guys with nice, straight ones, and not all covered with disgusting hair. Cynthia stopped and looked thoughtful. "I bet it's not bad at all," she said, staring off into space.

Jimmy, somewhat hurt by her disparaging remarks about his boyhood, snapped, "Ask Chad – he's sucked enough of them." Chad looked at the ground, stung to the core by Jimmy's comment. Gee whiz, the kid was supposed to be his best friend!

Jimmy regretted his words as soon as they left his mouth. But it was too late to call them back. Chad looked up at him, emotion all over his face. "So now you think I'm gay, too?" he asked, his voice cracking. He'd stopped walking and was staring at Jimmy intently. He looked like he might burst into tears at any moment, or haul off and biff Jimmy in the nuts.

Sensing the gravity of the moment, Jimmy stopped at looked back at him seriously and without a trace of his usual sarcasm at all.

"No," he said firmly. "No, no, double no. I don't think you're gay at all. I never have. And I wouldn't think you were even if you swore to me on a stack of Bibles that you whack off to naked JPEGs of Ryan Seacrest every night. I've known you since we were 5. We've slept together in the same bed, we've wrestled with just our underpants on, we've peed side by side in the woods, and we used to take baths together when we were little. I've seen how you react to guys and how you react to girls, and you and I once talked all night about sex when we were camping in my backyard, remember? I'd know if you were gay, and you're not. Not even a little bit. You're as straight as me or Joey or anyone else, and I won't let you argue any different." He stopped, aware he was almost shouting now. He looked around nervously, but no one appeared to be within earshot but Cynthia.

Chad struggled to catch up with the flood of words. "But, but everyone thinks I'm gay – you know, because I did all that stuff to keep from getting worse punishments, and I didn't even try to get away."

"So you're not stupid," Cynthia said. "If you'd tried to get away from the 4th graders, Mrs. Hendricks would have run you up the flagpole by your boy parts! And if you'd not done what your mom said, she'd have made you do it and then something else besides. You didn't suck any of those boy's dicks because you like it."

"But," Chad said, his voice faltering. He gulped at looked at the two of them seriously. "I don't hate it," he almost whispered. "Shouldn't I hate it? Shouldn't it make me throw up or something?"

"Did you like it?" Jimmy said.

"No…." Chad said hesitantly. "I mean, I never wanted to do it, but when I had to, I did."

"So I repeat, that means you're not stupid," Cynthia said. "Wouldn't you much rather do stuff with a girl, like me?" She fixed her eyes, not on his face, but on his crotch. Chad's penis lurched in his pants. He realized he'd very much like to do stuff with Cynthia. Seeing the twitch in Chad's modest crotch bulge, Cynthia laughed. "See, I told you," she said, brushing a hand across the front of Chad's pants and sending the most wonderful sensations through him. "Maybe you're confused in your head, but he knows what he wants."

"Get a room, you guys," Jimmy said, turning away and walking several steps further on, then turning to see if Chad would follow.

"Someday," Cynthia said. "But right now I'd better turn back and head for home." She impulsively leaned over and kissed Chad's cheek. "Call me," she said, and turned around without a backward glance, skipping up the street.

Chad and Jimmy watched her go. "I can't believe she touched your dick," Jimmy said as she moved out of earshot. "She wants you, I swear. Just say the word and you'll be doing the old horizontal hula!"

"Shut up," Chad said, resuming his walk home. They walked a block in silence, Chad's mind churning with all the new thoughts the two of them had stirred up in him. He thought about how loyally Jimmy stood by him. At Jimmy's corner, he finally spoke. "Thanks," he said. He looked away and headed home, not looking back.

"Anytime," Jimmy said, watching him retreat. "I only say what I feel." Chad didn't answer. He thought some more on the way home. Despite Jimmy's confidence, he wasn't all that sure about himself. True, he didn't get that rush of lust looking at any boy, clothed or naked, the way he did when he looked at Cynthia in just the right light. And he really, really liked boobs. But, (and he wasn't going to admit this to anyone), he didn't really mind sucking boys as much as he let on – in fact, if someone were offering to suck him in return, he might be tempted to go for it. That fact had bothered him in the days that followed the gauntlet. Once his brother Tommy had stopped tormenting him with twice-daily orders to service him, he had gotten to wondering what he would have done in Tommy's place, and realized immediately that he would not have seriously objected to his brother having to perform on him. So if his brother had proposed that he would suck Chad if Chad would suck him in return --.

Well, that was the problem, he thought as he walked along alone. Was he really any different from Alan? Alan had admitted he liked to get blow jobs but didn't like so much to give them, so were they really that different?

Chad opened the front door expecting the usual quiet that accompanied his return from school. Instead, the hall was a mass of bustle and purposeful action.

A small boy of 10 standing in the hall, running a radio controlled car up and down the wooden floor. A taller girl just entering puberty was standing in the doorway, watching him disinterestedly. Both had brown eyes and brown hair, the boy's hair tousled and longish, in an early Beatles cut, the girl's hair reaching almost to the small of her back and neatly combed. Her small breasts jutted out from her chest. Chad's mother was stacking up suitcases with a distracted air.

Memory returned to Chad. His cousins! He'd forgotten again about his cousins. Gabriel and Dakota Lyndhurst had moved in with them from Florida less than a week ago. They were currently sleeping on cots in his mother's study while she tried to work up a more permanent arrangement. They weren't actually blood cousins, they were the children of his aunt's husband's sister, an unmarried mother and major coke addict who was doing 2 to 5 for assault with a deadly weapon and possession with intent to sell.

He also remembered the second thing he'd forgotten about all day. His mother was leaving for some sort of lawyer convention in Seattle. She was leaving this afternoon, and she wasn't going to be back until late Friday night.

Tommy came in the front door with his smaller, slightly chubby buddy Jesse dogging him like a shadow. Chad's mother looked at her watch. "Gotta run! Tommy, introduce Jesse to your cousins. Beth's in complete charge while I'm gone, boys, so no funny business." She fixed her gaze levelly on Chad. "I mean it. She has full parental power up to and including physical discipline, if you get my drift. I expect to hear that you were all little angels. I have to finish packing and get out of here. Dakota, why don't you go upstairs and hang out with Beth? Tommy, remember that I only allowed you to have Jesse over while I'm gone because I trust you. You boys be nice to Gabriel and include him in your activities, and keep him away from those nasty Bascomb kids. My itinerary is posted on the refrigerator, and you have my cell number." She gave each of them a hug, saying to Gabriel and Dakota, "Sorry I have to leave when you're still just settling in, but the trip was arranged before I knew you were coming to live with us. Remember you'll all set to start school Monday – Chad and Tommy will make sure you both get to your class – you're in the same school as them. You're in the same class as Tommy, Dakota, so he can just take you there with him. Gabriel, Chad will take you to your class before he goes to his." There was a honk of a horn outside. "Oops, that'll be the cab. Remember to behave yourselves and mind Beth." With a final nod, Chad's mother slipped off to her room.

Tommy and Jesse immediately disappeared, leaving Chad with Gabriel, who eyed him cautiously, as he had for days every time they were left alone. Gabriel appeared to treat all older boys with extreme caution, as if afraid he might be attacked at any point. Chad's mother had said that it was because he'd been in a lot of foster homes and that the older boys there had knocked him around some. Gabriel was an average sized 10-year-old, which meant he was slightly smaller than Chad, roughly the height of Tommy's friend Jesse but not quite as chubby, more average in build. His round face looked even rounder with his mop haircut. "Wanna play Playstation?" he finally asked.

Chad accompanied him into the living room, where they sat back, turned on the TV, and Gabriel proceeded to poke through Chad's and Tommy's game collection, finally settling on Mortal Combat IV. After half an hour of game play, Chad managed to get Gabriel to relax and talk to him a bit, which was more than he'd done for the entire previous week. Chad had already decided that Gabriel wasn't a bad kid, overall. He'd lived with his mother and a succession of drug-using boyfriends and in various foster homes for quite awhile, and he had an air of worldliness and of access to adult knowledge that Chad was pretty sure exceeded his own limited experience.

After playing for awhile, Chad slipped into the kitchen and came back with bottles of root beer for both of them. Gabriel looked genuinely surprised to be offered something, but took it and drank with gusto, burping loudly. Chad took a few gulps and burped back at him. "Better out that way than the other way," Gabriel commented, bursting into a fit of giggles for the first time that Chad could remember since he'd gotten there. "At least you guys burp," he added. "Your sister never burps."

"She doesn't fart, either," Chad says. "One of these days she's going to explode." Gabriel laughed so hard and so suddenly that he almost spit root beer on Chad.

"You guys aren't bad," Gabriel said as he finally got his laughter under control. "You sister said you were mean and to watch out for you, but I could tell she was just ripping on you. I've met bad dudes before in foster homes. You aren't one of them."

When Chad asked him what he meant by "bad dudes," Gabriel replied, "You have to watch out for the other kids – some of 'em want to do bad things to you, even the little ones. The last place I was at before I came here, there was this bigger kid who'd crawl into my bed at night when everyone was asleep and want to play with my peter. If I didn't let him, he'd sock me in the stomach until I did. So I had to let him," the younger boy said without emotion.

"Couldn't you tell his mom or someone?" Chad asked.

"Nah. If I told on him, he'd have just said that it was me who wanted to play with his peter, and who is his mom gonna believe, him or me? And then I'd have gotten punished, and that night he'd be right back in my bed touching me and nothing would have changed. And he was always wanting me to take it up the chute, but I told him he could hit me all he wanted, I wasn't doing that, and if he tried, I'd wait until he was in and then scream until his parents came. Let him try to deny it with shit on his peter! And I guess he believed me, because he never pushed it very hard."

"He wanted to stick his wiener in your butt?" Chad asked, shocked at the graphic nature of this discussion with a boy of this tender age.

"Duh," Gabriel said derisively. "Of course he wanted to put it in my butt. All the big boys at the foster homes want to do that – most of them are just scared to try," Gabriel said unemotionally.

They played awhile longer. Then Chad ventured the question Gabriel's words had just raised. "Most of them are scared to try? You mean some of them did?"

Gabriel looked at him like he was too naïve for words. "A couple of times," he said. "Lots of us boys in foster care have had it done to us. You try to scare them off, but the catch you by surprise some times. Once a boy makes you take it up the chute, you know they're going to do it again, so you have to get out of there. Like you start mouthing off to the mom or something, and then they ask to have you moved."

Chad was silent a bit. "You mean this happens all the time?" he finally asked. "I mean, I could see if it was a punishment for being bad, but they let their kids do that to you and don't stop them?"

"They don't know, and they don't believe it if you tell them. I tried to tell the kid's mom the first time it happened, and she slapped my face and made be apologize to the asshole. Then she said I was corrugated and a bad influence on her innocent son and had them move me."

"Incorrigible?" Chad asked, using a word he'd learned during his own bout with severe misbehavior.

"Maybe," Gabriel said. "So the next time I played it smarter and didn't tell anyone, I just started mouthing off to the mother and got out of there."

"Gee," Chad said.

"My mom's boyfriend's nephew did it to me once, too," Gabriel said calmly, as if they were talking about the weather. "He was drunk and my mom had gone shopping and he had these two nephews, and he said I needed a spanking, and then they undressed me and the younger one did it to me before they took me out to get spanked. And they did other bad stuff to me, too! But when my Mom came home she was mad at him and they never came over any more. But that kid had a big peter for such a little kid, and he was rough, and it really hurt that time!"

Chad didn't point out that he knew all too well what it felt like to take things "up the chute." He'd been raped by a series of dildos in front of his own class just 2 weeks before that, followed by being actually butt fucked by the 3rd grader he'd given a concussion the week before. Even that little kid's dick had hurt, mainly because of the vigor with which he rammed himself into Chad and the fact that his rectum was already sore from the bigger dildos. He had great sympathy for this poor little kid and what he'd suffered. "You want to talk about it?" he asked.

"Naw," Gabriel said. "It's all in the past, anyway. But I'm safe here, right?"

"Don't worry," Chad replied. "You're safe now here with us. Mom might give you a spanking now and then, but no one's going to do that other stuff to you. And I'll make sure no one hurts you."