Tommy's Attitude Adjustment Chapter 58
by Chadlad

copyright 2007 by Chadlad, all rights reserved
[email protected]

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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 58: Chad's Revenge

Kids looked at other kids with expressions of confusion, approval, surprise, and in the case of Cynthia and Jimmy Chen, outright glee. "You mean Gitt's a boy?" Joey Turpin called from near the room door, where he'd been keeping guard all this time.

"I've always had my suspicions," Cynthia muttered.

Mrs. Rose waited for them to quiet down. Chad sat in his soggy pants and underpants, wondering if he'd heard correctly. His genitals felt like they were being steamed in pee, and his butt felt like he'd sat in a bathtub too long. He could feel his pants squishing as he shifte positions, and he almost welcomed the diaper he was sure he'd soon be wearing. Mrs. Rose spoke again. "From this point until we decree otherwise, Mr. Gitt, you are now officially a boy at Miriam Webster Middle School. You name has been officially registered as Emile Gitt, your sex is listed as male, you are to use the boys' restroom, and you are eligible for the same punishments as any of the other boys, to be administered in the same fashion. We will be addressing that punishment shortly, after we deal with Mr. Henson's bladder control problem. Once he's cleaned up and in diapers, he'll be free to commence the administration of the long, hard spanking that you suggested be the first part of the punishment of our thief."

Emily stared at her, aghast at hearing her suggestions for punishment fired back with her as the proposed object. "But – but- but …" Emily stuttered.

"Your butt, you mean," Jimmy Chen snapped back. "Your butt getting bared in front of everyone for a spanking. Your butt being checked for sh - um, I mean, poop. Your butt getting spanked bare in front of everyone while you beg and cry. I like it! You can see what it's like for a change!"

"Mr. Chen puts it a bit crudely, but he's got the essential points," Mrs. Rose said. "And, as Mr. Gitt is a boy, Mr. Chen, and deserving of any taunts you children might produce, I'll ignore the crudeness of your utterance. But, Mr. Gitt, he did fail to mention one critical point. Children at Miriam Webster must wear the appropriate school uniform, Mr. Gitt, but for some reason you've come to school in what is clearly the girls' school uniform. Such clothing is not suitable for a boy, Mr. Gitt, so we will be removing all of your clothing for your spanking, not just the bottom half as we usually do."

Emily looked aghast. A low rumbling voice erupted from the middle of the classroom. "You mean we get to see her boobies?"

"Who said that?" Mrs. Rose snapped. Every head swiveled until they were all looking at Big Sam, the only person seated who had a voice that low. Big Sam tried looking around, too, as if trying to spot the culprit. "Mr. Hewitt," Mrs. Rose said. "This is a serious punishment session, not some sort of bawdy house! I accept that taunting of the boy being punished is a necessary and productive part of the punishment, but I insist that you observe certain limits on your use of street language. Your words tell us you obviously haven't been listening. Mr. Gitt is officially a boy at this school, at least for the rest of the week, and thus does not have 'boobies' as you so crudely put it. And you should be grateful that Mr. Gitt is currently a boy, because if you were to taunt a girl in this class using those words, I would make Mr. Gitt's punishment look like a picnic in comparison with yours." She cast an evil glare across the classroom. "All of the rest of you boys take heed – this is not open season for misbehavior. In fact, I'm going to be especially intolerant of inappropriate male behavior the rest of this week." She fixed her glare on Big Sam. "But to address your question, yes, Mr. Gitt will be removing all of his clothing, including that on his upper body, so you will all be seeing whatever there is to see there."

"Nooooo!" Emily wailed. "You can't let them see me!"

"Don't be ridiculous, boy," Mrs. Rose said. "Of course I can. In fact, as you have no boys' clothing here at school to wear after your punishment, you will have to go without clothing for the rest of the school day. At the end of the day, because you'll have nothing appropriate to wear, just as we do with boys who wet themselves, you'll be given punishment underpants to wear home." She turned to glare at Chad. "This would be much easier if you had even a modicum of bladder control, Mr. Henson. By rights, I should be punishing you, too, for your shameful display in front of the class in wetting your pants like a toddler. But the board decided that you would be the most effective individual to administer Mr. Gitt's punishment, and as I concur we'll have to forgo more appropriate punishment for you."

Chad, in his seat, was still trying to take it all in. Did Mrs. Rose just say that he was going to give Emily her spanking? In front of everyone? With her naked? His penis lurched and hardened in his steaming underpants, and his heart began thudding. Spank Emily! Spank not just a bare naked girl, but one who he absolutely hated, hated with a passion? A girl who'd made a mockery of him in class, made him cry, fondled his genitals and ground his balls together, and made him cower in fear and crawl over her lap like a toddler for his punishments? Could this be true? His penis stretched to full length, throbbing in its wet cocoon, and his ball sack itched where it stuck to his body.

"But- but- but Mrs. Rose, really," Emily protested, her face flushed with anxiety. "You can't be serious! You can't let Chad… you can't! Boys aren't ever allowed to give spankings at our school! The get them, they don't give them. Only girls give spankings, as it should be! I'll admit that Chad Henson's little dick and balls are tiny, but he does have them – everyone has seen them. He's a disgusting, perverted, poorly hung little boy, not a girl! So what you're proposing is absurd!"

"Actually, the school has no policy at all concerning boys as the administrators of spankings," Mrs. Rose said. "I don't think they believed a situation like this would ever occur, so we're breaking new ground here. So the board finally decided that, as Mr. Henson was to be the target of your nefarious plan, Mr. Henson is needed to play a role in your punishment. They left it up to my discretion what role he should play, and after giving it much thought I decided that the first, most humiliating part of the punishment must be given by him for maximum effect on you, Mr. Gitt. But don't worry, he won't be the only one punishing you. There are two other parts to your punishment, remember? It's not fair to put all the burden of your discipline on Mr. Henson's shoulders, nor would your punishment be as effective if I limited it to just one participant. Other boys will be filling essential roles for those two, and Mr. Henson will be able to retire and be part of our attentive audience of those punishments."

"So who's doing the other parts?" Jimmy Chen said quickly. "I call dibs!"

Mrs. Rose glared at him. "This isn't a game, Mr. Chen," she said. "And even if it was, I don't trust you to play it. The other two parts of Mr. Gitt's punishment will be administered by the other two victims of her scheming. Mr. Martinez, you will administer Mr. Gitt's paddling on the horse, and Mr. Farlow, you will administer his genital paddling."

S. F.'s eyes widened. Genital paddling? Like in the stuff between people's legs? He was supposed to paddle Emily between her legs? He pictured himself standing behind a naked Emily tied down to the horse, her legs spread like Jimmy's had been on that cruel structure, her balls crushed under her like Jimmy's had been… No, not her balls. She was a girl, and girls didn't have balls. He tried to remember what girls did have there. He hadn't seen any naked pictures of girls since his spanking two years ago for looking at naked girls on the Internet. Even then, it was boobies he'd been looking at – most of the girls didn't even have visible crotches. He had a vague memory of surprising flatness there, and hair, and a barely seen slit like the crack between a person's butt cheeks, but it wouldn't come into focus in his mind.

Jimmy Chen spoke up. "But you can you punish Emily's crotch on the horse?" he asked reasonably. "The bump where your crotch goes covers everything – at least it did when it was smashing my cock and balls!"

Mrs. Rose glared again. "The proper words for your genital structures are 'penis and scrotum,' Mr. Chen," she said. "As you don't seem to be able to remember that, while we're punishing Mr. Gitt you can spend the time writing, 'The genitals of boys are called the penis and the scrotum,' 200 times. Get your paper out and get to work."

Jimmy groaned and began fishing in his desk for a pencil and paper. Mrs. Rose scanned the class again. "As Mr. Chen has raised the question, I'll address it. The horse is a highly versatile punishment tool. The back part has several interchangeable attachments to make it possible to use for a variety of purposes. One attachment is the hump desired to put pressure on a boy's genitals that you saw when Mr. Chen was introduced to it. But it also came with other attachments, including a gripping device for holding a boy's penis or scrotum or both tightly so that he dare not move at all during punishment, and a corresponding device specifically designed to keep girls still while they're on the horse. The latter, of course, we put aside thinking it would not be needed, but now, owing to peculiarities I expect we'll see in Mr. Gitt's boy parts, we probably will have to employ during her paddling by Mr. Martinez."

The while class of children immediately tried to picture what a "corresponding device specifically designed to keep girls still" would look like. Chad pictured some sort of short pole like a little penis projecting upward, ready to impale the girl in her girl place, the place penises were supposed to go when people made babies. Jimmy stopped writing his first sentence as he pictured clamps that grasped the edges of a girl's vulva and stretched them downward painfully. Alan was picturing his cousin Chana over the horse, a small clamp grasping the baby penis girls had at the tops of the vulvas and pulling it out painfully. S. F. was completely puzzled, picturing some sort of suction cup covering the whole flat area that girls had between their legs and immobilizing it.

In this silence, Emily suddenly stamped her foot. "NO!" she stated firmly. "I won't let this go on another minute. I'm not taking off my clothes in front of all these – these – these PERVERTS!" She swept an arm past Jimmy and Chad and Randy and the other boys. "And none of them is going to touch me, either! You just call my mother, and she'll tell you! I don't have to do anything you tell me to!"

"Yes, you do, Mr. Gitt. You're not different than any other boy at this school. You will submit to the punishments that are designated for you voluntarily, or we will force you to submit to them and extend your punishments by additional days. And your mother is already fully aware of your transgressions and has given us her permission to administer as many spankings, paddlings, and genital punishments as we deem necessary, and has okayed unlimited amounts of forced nudity and display in front of your school mates as well. And I must warn you, right now, that any more show of defiance to your justly deserved punishment will result in your receiving an additional punishment between your morning spanking and your afternoon paddling, a humiliation punishment that you will not like one bit. If you are smart, you'll submit to your well-deserved punishments with some dignity."

"But this is ludicrous!" Emily shrieked. "So what if I did hurry things along a bit by moving some things here or there? All of them would have gotten spanked in front of class, anyway, sooner or later. All of them, and the other boys, too! And they'd have done other stuff, and gotten more punishments on their own, anyway. Everyone knows boys are bad, and need to be spanked hard and bare! All I did was make sure they got their spankings sooner rather than later, so that they'd begin improving their behavior that much sooner! You should thank me! You like to see them get paddled, too! You do it yourself, and enjoy it! You aren't any different from me!"

"But I am, Mr. Gitt," Mrs. Rose intoned sanctimoniously. "I believe in giving a boy a firm spanking or paddling or other punishment when he has earned it, no question about it. Boys learn more quickly with the crack of a paddle on their bare bottoms than in any other way, and the lesson stays with them. But I believe in punishing a boy only when he has earned it. Nothing is learned when a boy is punished who hasn't earned it. In fact, it makes things worse. The boy becomes even more incorrigible – he's full of righteous anger after being unjustly punished, and he feels justified in misbehaving more because he was wrongly punished. And the system loses its integrity – we're not punishing the boy with right on our side, but only to fuel cruel desires that darken our souls. When a boy is standing naked in front of his classmates, crying his eyes out after a painful lesson at my hand, I want everyone watching to know that he is in that position because he earned it, and because he justly deserves it. Thanks to your misguided actions, every time we punish a boy the rest of the year your classmates will be wondering if that same boy is the victim of a cruel hoax, a martyr rather than a miscreant. It raises doubt that makes the overly sympathetic…" here she turned to glare at Cynthia, "feel misguided empathy for the boy and his predicament rather than the contempt he should feel."

She swept the room with her gaze. "Now that you have cast doubt upon the justness of the punishment system, the only way we can repair the damage is if you, yourself, suffer the most extreme of consequences from the very system you violated – consequences more severe than any of the boys have faced up to now. Now to stand facing the blackboard in front of class with your hands behind your head and wait there with your nose touching the board until we're done cleaning up Mr. Henson and diapering him and can tend to your spanking."

Mrs. Rose lumbered over to where Emily was standing and calmly picked up the hairbrush where it was lying on Emily's empty desk where she'd sat it after paddling Chad. Moving like a snake striking, she circled Emily's body with her left arm and pinned the girl's hands, then raised the paddle and brought it down with a thundering "WHAP" on the seat of Emily's school skirt. Emily's eyes bulged and she squealed in pain and outrage, struggling for release. Mrs. Rose let go of her and shoved her toward the board. "Get over there, Mr. Gitt," she said loudly. "Our I'll give you several more of those. And thanks to your obstinance, you've already earned your first additional punishment. You'll get a chance to become acquainted 'The Stimulator' after your bare-bottomed paddling!"

The Stimulator? Chad thought to himself. The egg-thing that went up your butt and made you have to rub yourself until you came and came and came again, but still made you have to rub yourself until you'd rubbed yourself raw? But that was for boys, wasn't it? The other part of it was a ring that had gone around the base of his penis. That part was essential, Chad knew. He could still remember the rippling waves of electric sensation traveling between the ring and the egg deep inside him, making him mad with the need to touch himself. And Emily, even if she was being officially designated a boy by the school board, was still a girl and presumably had a girl's equipment. Instead of Chad's modest projection, Emily probably had a girl's furrow with the tiny nub at the top and the place lower down where a boy's dick was supposed to go when you made babies. (He still couldn't bring himself to say "fucked," even mentally). No way the ring would fit around the nub girls had. And girls didn't have dicks to rub, either, so what would Emily do if she was somehow attached to the stimulator? Shove her finger inside her, in the dick place? Rub the sides of her slit? It was all a very confusing picture.

"Mrs. Rose, please!" Emily said, almost on the verge of hysteria. "You've carried this joke on long enough. You have to see that those pictures, even the one from outside, were just clever fakes put together by Microdick and Piggy and Whizzer and that bitch traitor to all girls, little Miss Cynthia! You can see that, can't you? Microdick and Piggy just want to get even because I beat their little stinky butt and showed everyone their pathetic dicks, and everyone's heard how Microdick and Whizzer are queer for each and put their mouths on each other's disgusting boy parts in front of their families – oh, they claim they were forced to do it for punishment, but I know better! And Cynthia is hot for Microdick, too – everybody knows that. In fact, she's such a slut for him she'd probably like nothing better right now than for him to stick his little dick right in her cunt, or maybe even up her butt, and not even care who's watching…"

"Mr. Gitt, that's enough!" Mrs. Rose interrupted. "I will not have that kind of talk from boys in my classroom! I'm adding a mouth soaping to your other punishments later today. We'll do it at lunch time, so the rest of the school can see it. And if you say another word without permission, I'll be cleaning out your other end as well, and we'll do that in front of everyone, too!" Emily, astonished, clamped her mouth shut. Mrs. Rose nodded approval. "That's better," she said. "Now get your nose against the blackboard, Mr. Gitt, while we clean up Mr. Henson so that he's in fit condition to administer your punishment."

Emily's mouth flapped open and then closed and then open again. Chad noticed she was now shaking, and her face was beet red. The reality of the situation was finally sinking into her, he decided, and she was now truly frightened of the threatened punishments, perhaps as frightened as he'd been standing in front of the class prior to being spanked for the first time, maybe more so because he'd been facing only an underpants spanking to begin with, whereas Emily knew her spanking was to be on the bare. Mrs. Rose took two steps toward her and raised the paddle. Emily flinched backward and she scurried to the blackboard and on shaking legs touching her nose to it in the prescribed fashion. Her face was flushed and her eyes were stormy. She was scared, indeed, Chad thought. Or maybe not so scared, he decided in a moment. Because the next thing she did was, to his mind, both defiant and stupid. "You'll see!" she shouted as she stared at the wall. "You'll all be sorry! My mother will have all of you fired! The school board too!"

"Your mother, Mr. Gitt," Mrs. Rose said, "not only approved of your bare bottomed punishment, but suggested we punish you a second day as well, later in the week after your original blisters have had some time to heal, an idea we've taken under advisement. She also said to tell you that you'll be receiving additional punishment when you get home, in what she called a 'private punishment party for my wayward daughter.' So I wouldn't count on any sympathy from her."

Emily went rigid, digesting this. Mrs. Rose took a deep breath and turned to Chad. "Now, what to do about you, Mr. Henson? I dearly wish you'd get over this little bladder control problem of yours – you're not 5 anymore. I really should make an example of you again, only this time with perhaps 5 days in diapers and public changings in the lunchroom. But that would really be quite a lot of trouble, when my only aim is to make you stop wetting yourself like a toddler. Hmm… let me give this some thought." She gazed around the room. "We need a boy to take charge of you," she said, still scanning. "But not Mr. Gitt, obviously – he's going to be quite preoccupied. And certainly not Mr. Delvecchio – we all know better than that. And not Mr. Chen, either, he has sentences to write. We need a boy who can exert some authority – one bigger than you and not particularly fond of you, either, which, as I hear through the grapevine, leaves Mr. Turpin out as well. And Mr. Farlow and Mr. Martinez will be occupied with other duties. So who does that leave? No, not you Mr. Hewitt," she added to Big Sam. "You've quite enough trouble making yourself behave. Aha! Mr. Wagstaff! I'd almost forgotten you were here! Come to the front – you'll do nicely."

Tall, spindly, ectomorphic-looking Jason Wagstaff started from where he'd been slouching low in his seat in back, trying to hide from Mrs. Rose's steely eye behind Big Sam's bulk. It wasn't surprising Mrs. Rose had almost forgotten the boy's presence – the blue-eyed stick figure with dirty-blond hair tried his best to be forgotten as much as possible, and accomplished this by saying nothing and hiding behind Big Sam as much as he could. He had haunted eyes and sunken cheeks and bony elbows and knuckles that looked too large, and he was gawky and uncoordinated and pimple-pocked as only an adolescent in mid-puberty can be. His height had kept him off Mrs. Rose's list of boys to be disciplined by DAs, and his ability to blend into the background had kept him off teacher's laps throughout the two years he'd been there, the net result being he was now the only boy in the 7th grade who still had never been spanked in school. Looking at him now, Mrs. Rose wondered if he was some sort of speed freak or at least a heavy caffeine user. The boy had no meat on him at all! She wondered if his hips were dished and sunken like concentration camp victims. It suddenly struck her that she'd never beaten the butt of a boy that cadaverous before – would such an attempt hurt her hand more than it distressed the lad receiving the spanking? If he had as little meat on his buttocks as it appeared, what sort of sound would a good paddling make? And would he be more prone to dangerous bruising?

Putting those thoughts aside, Mrs. Rose waved Jason forward. "Come to the tape line, Mr. Wagstaff," she said. "Mr. Henson, it's time for you to come up, too. Mr. Wagstaff is going to clean you up and diaper you, and be in charge of your pottying for the rest of the week. You'll be wearing diapers while in school because of your accident this morning, but you'll be allowed to wear school pants over them. At least after yours are dry again today. They'll bulge embarrassingly, but that's no more than you deserve for your lack of control. And I don't expect you to actually use the diapers. You'll be doing your business in the boys' restroom. However, in order to make sure you don't wet yourself again this week, Mr. Wagstaff will be told periodically to take you to the potty, remove your diaper, and watch to make sure you go. He's also to make sure you're dry and clean before putting the diaper back on you. Mr. Wagstaff, that means that you will wipe his penis with toilet paper after he urinates, and if he has to defecate you will inspect his anal area thoroughly after he wipes himself, and do what additional cleaning is necessary to make him spotless. I expect to use the same diaper on you the entire week, Mr. Henson, and there will be a spanking in it for both of you if you wet or dirty it!"

"But Mrs. Rose--," Jason squawked, his voice going up an octave in the middle in an embarrassing adolescent break. "Watch him? Do I have to? I don't like watching guys in the can! It's, like, gay! So's looking at his—at his--looking at him after he takes a dum—does his thing sitting down!" Jason stammered.

"Wiping little boys bottoms and penises and inspecting them for cleanliness isn't 'gay,' Mr. Wagstaff!" Mrs. Rose thundered. "It's one of the jobs of a good father, or uncle, or older brother, or babysitter for those boys who are too young to take care of themselves, a category to which Mr. Henson obviously belongs. And even if it was, there's really nothing wrong with people being attracted to their own sex. In fact, it would be preferable for you boys to work out your drives on each other rather than irritating and attempting to corrupt the females in this school. So you are to wipe his genitals and inspect his bottom exactly as I have instructed, or you and he will both be paddled in front of this class! Just remember, Mr. Wagstaff – one spot on the diaper from either side of Mr. Henson's body and you'll both be spanked! So you, Mr. Henson, will control yourself, and you, Mr. Wagstaff, will make sure that he is taken to the toilet frequently and inspected thoroughly when he's done."

She glared at Chad. "Mr. Henson, you are to obey Mr. Wagstaff at all times while you're being diaper trained. Go when he tells you, submit for inspection, and let him clean you." Chad's face burned with embarrassment. Jason Wagstaff was going to wipe his penis? In front of whatever other boys were there? He didn't want another boy touching his penis! What if it got hard? He often got hard when he peed. Would Jason misunderstand and think he was turned on by the whole process? He wasn't so worried about the butt inspection part – Chad seldom pooped during school hours, anyway. But he peed an average of three times a day, and sometimes four!

Mrs. Rose went to her desk and retrieved the box of baby wipes. "Mr. Henson, take of your shoes and socks, please," she ordered. Chad, remembering too vividly the other punishments that followed this particular instruction, blushed deeply and his heart began pounding, but he dutifully removed his shoes and toed off his socks like he always did at home. Mrs. Rose made him fold the socks and put them in the shoes, then carry them to put neatly under his desk. His pants squished soppily around his genitals has he bent to accomplish these tasks. It would be almost a relief to be put in a dry diaper, he thought, except for the part about having to be naked every time he was changed to his diaper in the morning and out of it in the afternoon, and of course and the part about Jason watching him pee and wiping his dick. At Mrs. Rose's order he padded barefoot back to the front of the room.

"Mr. Henson, hands behind head!" Mrs. Rose ordered. Chad complied meekly. "Mr. Wagstaff, removed Mr. Henson's soiled pants and underpants, please," she continued.

Frowning with distaste, Jason Wagstaff unbuttoned Chad's pants and cautiously lowered the zipper, looking at his fingers and then wiping them frantically on Chad's dry pant leg when he'd finished. Gripping Chad's pants only by the back, where they were dry, he yanked them down to Chad's ankles. "Step out," he croaked, and Chad dutifully lifted first one leg and then the other. Jason handed the pants to Mrs. Rose, who immediately hung them on the hat tree in front, with the wet triangle of the front facing the class. Chad stood in only his school shirt and underpants, the latter sporting a dark triangle over his modest pubic bulge where he'd wet them thoroughly in his fright. He couldn't help glancing down at his small-looking bulge. Could he actually see the outlines of his penis through the thin, soaked cloth? Why did he care? His underpants were coming off in moments. It was bare naked time again, he thought. Undress from the waist down in front of everyone, let them see how small and underdeveloped his genitals were, stoically allow his genitals to be washed like he was a recalcitrant toddler. Then endure a week of being supervised in the bathroom by a boy his age, an indifferent boy who he'd had little interaction with in the past and who he'd always thought was just plain weird. A boy who had been explicitly instructed to touch his penis after peed, to wipe it, for heaven's sake. Who ever heard of a boy wiping his penis? It was feminine, that's what it was! He was completely flushed with embarrassment. Once more he was going to face the class and let them see his pathetically underdeveloped tool.

He faced the class as Jason examined his underpants with distaste, deciding where to grip them. Finally, Jason pinched the top of the waistband on the sides and dragged Chad's underpants down past his ankles. Chad could feel the coolness of the air on his wet genitals and where the wet was being spread down his legs by the soaked underpants, and on his feet as he dutifully kicked the underpants off and Mrs. Rose hung them on the hat rack, too. There he was again, his genitals humiliatingly naked in front of his disdainful class members. The air was rapidly drying and cooling his crotch, making him shrink. His experience with having seen a good portion of the boys in his class in just this position over the last few weeks as well as seeing his brother's package and Jesse's and the Morton twins' and his new cousin Gabriel's uncut member had impressed upon him just how unusually small his own penis got when soft. He couldn't keep himself from glancing down again, confirming his worst fear – his dick was playing turtle again, withdrawn into his body so only the mushroom tip projected with its neat slit, and his balls were drawn up tight like little jellybeans against his body. Just once, couldn't he be dangling loosely when they did this, like he did after jerking off?

On the other hand, he was glad he wasn't hard. He was more impressive that way, but it was embarrassing, and it suggested he was thinking about sex all the time if he was hard. That or he had to poo real bad. Although, come to think of it, the whole class had already seen him hard repeatedly, hadn't they? They knew his penis got bigger than this. They'd seen him jerk off, for heaven's sake! And at least he wasn't getting naked to get spanked this time!

No, that was Emily who had to stand still up in front of the class and think about the humiliation of her upcoming preparation to be spanked. To be spanked by him, in fact. It still didn't seem real. He had experience spanking kids – he'd spanked his brother Tommy, and he'd blistered little Efram's butt on tape for Zoey. He'd even enjoyed the spanking and subsequent paddling of the fat boy's big, bare butt. But they were boys, with the same stuff he had in front, and the same closed-up look between their legs between that stuff and their holes. This was going to be different! He was going to have a real, live female across his lap this time, a female bigger than him, with her body weight settled fully upon him. And her genitals, against his leg, would be bare! And his leg would be bare, too, because his pants probably wouldn't be dry until lunch time! He'd see Emily Gitt's girl parts up close, because he'd have to sit down to take her over his lap, and her stuff would be at eye level and only inches away! And then he'd have her butt right there in front of him – her bare butt! Her bare girl butt, with its definitely unboyish curves. He'd have to spread her butt to check her for cleanliness, wouldn't he? Didn't they do that with everyone? They'd all certainly done it to him. He'd spread her butt and look down between her buns and see her butt hole, just the way she'd done to him. He'd make her keep her legs apart like she'd done, too, so that she could look at his scrotum from behind, but of course he'd be looking at her vulva. And maybe it would even be open, and he could look at her secret place where a boy was supposed to stick his penis…

"Hey, he's getting hard!" Jason said indignantly. Chad started guiltily. He didn't even have to look – all that thought about a naked Emily at his mercy had his penis almost fully erect.

"Don't pay any attention to that," Mrs. Rose said. "Just clean him off with these wipes and let's get him into his diaper. We've got a lot of school work to do today and Mr. Gitt to attend to as well."

"But I don't want to touch him when he's hard!" Jason protested, his voice breaking embarrassingly again.

"Mr. Wagstaff, stop being such a prima donna. It wasn't that long ago that other people had to wash your genitals and bottom for you."

"But I was a baby then," Jason said. "Chad's not a baby – he's got hair and everything! And he's hard!"

Mrs. Rose looked pointedly at Chad's now barely two-inch member. "Well, I'll admit he does have a few hairs, now," she said thoughtfully. "But he doesn't look much different from a toddler's from here," she added. She handed Jason two baby wipes. "Might as well get used to it – you're going to be handling him for the next 4 days. Now scrub him thoroughly."

"Scrub him?! What if he squirts his stuff when I'm doing it?" Jason said. "It could get all over me!"

"He doesn't squirt," Emily's friend and supporter in front said quickly, forgetting her part in the Emily Gitt debacle.

Mrs. Rose glared at her. "You, my dear, are another problem," she said. "One we'll have to consider our response to carefully. Don't think I didn't recognize you talking to Mr. Gitt in that picture taken outside, the picture also showing that folder and its disgusting contents. We're going to have to deal with you, too, sometime today. The board didn't make any particular recommendations, so what to do about it is up to me. I wouldn't, therefore, do anything else to call yourself to my attention if I were you. It's always possible you could join Mr. Gitt in his temporary sex reassignment."

Chad wished silently that they'd stop bickering and diaper him. He could see eyes from all over the room still fixated on his package. Even Cynthia was looking, as smile on her face, and Ramona's eyes were positively glittering. He remembered Ramona saying how much she enjoyed boys being undressed against their will and being forced to stand on display, helpless. She'd even suggested she'd like to play such games with him and Jimmy at her house some day. No, that definitely wasn't a good thought—his penis swelled larger, the head pulsing in front of him like a pole thrust into his groin.

Jason, meanwhile, finally summoned up the courage to tentatively run the baby wipes around Chad's groin above his penis, and down either side of it. Lifting his hand too swiftly, though, he caught the underside of Chad's penis with the back of his hand and sent it bouncing resoundingly against Chad's groin. He jerked his hand away as if bitten.

"Mr. Wagstaff, I'm warning you," Mrs. Rose said mildly. Jason grimaced, the finally leaned over again and began dabbing at Chad's scrotum. Then, taking a visible breath, he swiped down the top of Chad's penis, up the bottom, and then down each side.

"There, I did it," Jason said, holding the wipes like they were radioactive waste.

"Don't be ridiculous, young man," Mrs. Rose said. "I said to scrub his penis, and I meant it."

"But he has hair," Jason said. "He might squirt stuff if I do that, he really might!"

"Not if you're rough enough," Mrs. Rose said. "I suggest he use a firm grip."

Jason gripped Chad's penis under the baby wipe so firmly Chad thought he was going to try to make the head pop like a pimple. He then began yanking his hand up and down, tugging hard on Chad's member where it attached to his body.

"Ow! OWW! Not so hard!" Chad protested. Jason ignored him, giving Chad's penis several more vicious tugs, then letting go.

"Okay, he's done now," he said, his voice squeaking at the end again. Chad caught his breath, his penis protesting its treatment by getting harder despite the little pains it was giving off.

"Don't you want to check the other side?" Mrs. Rose said sardonically. "If anything from there gets on the diaper, you'll be very unhappy with the consequences, and it will be your responsibility even if he started out dirty."

Jason gave Mrs. Rose a "do I have to?" look, then chucked the wipes in the trash and took the two more she offered him. "Bend over, Chad," he said. "Hurry up – I want to get this done."

Chad did as commanded, turning around and bending double, flashing his spread butt to the class. Only after he was completely bent over did he realize that Jason hadn't told him to turn around first – he'd just done it because Mrs. Rose had always made him turn his butt to the class for inspection in the past. But by then it was too late. He was already lewdly mooning everyone with his single nether eye, and Jason was already dabbing lightly at his ass. He gritted his teeth and bore Jason's swiping and probing with grace, even when Jason, apparently dissatisfied with the state of that structure, pressed hard and scrubbed briefly. He finally was allowed to straighten up, and it was almost with relief that he spread his legs while standing to allow Mrs. Rose to slip the diaper between them and pull it tight, so tight even his diminutive genitals protested the snugness. "There," Mrs. Rose said with satisfaction. "Your pants will have to wait until they are dry again. If they're not dry by lunch time, you can go to lunch as you are. Mr. Wagstaff, you can be seated until Mr. Henson needs a potty break. You, Mr. Henson, stay here – you have a job to do."

She turned toward the blackboard, where a flushed Emily Gitt was still trembling tensely, seething with a combination of rage at Chad and fear of Mrs. Rose and the promised coming events. "Mr. Gitt, would you please come to the tape line?" Mrs. Rose said.

Emily started, the cold tone of Mrs. Rose like a knife in her heart. Slowly, she turned around and approached the tape in the front center of the class, her eyes darting around wildly as she tried to think of some way to escape. Glancing at the classroom door, she saw Joey Turpin grinning at her, looking genuinely happy rather than bored as he usually looked, daring her with his expression to try to make a dash for it so he could grab her. She looked frantically around the room looking for a sympathetic or outraged face, but all she saw were glittering eyes, excited expressions, and, in the case of Jimmy Chen, a face splitting grin of triumph. Chad Henson was standing to one side of the tape line looking ridiculous in his "big boy" diaper and school shirt with his bare feet and legs calling attention to his toddler attire, a small boy a whole head shorter than her, yet holding the stronger hand at the moment. Any other time she would have savored his discomfort and shame at wetting himself in class and being diapered in front of them. But the class' eyes weren't on him, they were on her – on her! Because she was going to get – was going to get—

She couldn't view it with anything but horror – she could hardly think of it at all! She was going to be spanked! Spanked long and hard, in front of the entire classroom! Spanked naked! They were going to strip off her clothes, piece by piece – Chad was going to strip off her clothes – until she was down to just her underclothes. And then he'd take them, too – her bra and her panties, and she'd be naked! Naked, standing in front of a classroom full of girls and boys! Naked, like Chad had been when she'd spanked him, like Randy had been, and Jimmy, and Joey, and Alan, and that ridiculously pale Farlow kid everyone called S. F. She remembered them all, standing with their muscular or thin or grossly fat buns jutting backwards, and their overly complex, bulging privates on display. All that skin in the open, every pimple and birthmark and unsightly boy wrinkle visible. That would be her all to soon. In fact, she'd be more naked than them, even, because boys being spanked bare usually got to keep their shirts on, and only remove their pants for their punishments. She'd have to take off everything! Mrs. Rose had said so. And they'd all see her secrets, the things she'd managed to keep hidden ... They'd know!

They wouldn't let her cover her breasts and genitals, would they? The boys hadn't been allowed to cover their disgusting boy parts, those floppy little penises or hairy big ones, and their disturbingly sagging sacks. Not even when they'd gotten hard! She shuddered internally at the thought of the boys when they were hard. She hated the sight of an erect penis – hated the way it looked, hated what it stood for. The veins stood out in all of them more prominently when they were hard. Their piss slits sometimes opened yawningly, and the twists and knots underneath were more prominent when they were thrust toward the sky. They looked uglier hard, uglier and more threatening. Especially the big ones, like Joey's or even stupid S. F.'s! Because she knew why they got hard, what it meant their owners wanted to do! She still shuddered with the horror of the sleepover night several years back, when her old friend Julie had breathlessly described, in scathing detail, what boys and girls did with their genitals when they were older. How boys' things got hard, and then they forced them between your legs into the hole that was there, the same hole that babies force their way out of later, babies that were there because the boys had stuck their things in there to start with. She'd had nightmares for days in which leering boys had held her down, shoving their things roughly into her, skewering her with them, stabbing them painfully down there while they grunted with pleasure like pigs. Boys peed out a kind of white piss when they did that, Julie had said breathlessly. But only after they'd rammed their things in and out of you a lot of times. And the white piss made babies.

Emily had almost thrown up at the thought of some boy peeing something disgusting inside of her private place and then leaving it there, rolling off her and pulling up his pants and going away whistling while she lay there violated and soiled. She'd gotten even more disgusted when Julie had breathlessly related that some girls even took boys' things into their mouths and sucked them, actually sucked them until the white piss came. And what they did then Emily had found completely unbelievable. Some girls actually swallowed the stuff, some spit it out, and some actually let the boys spray their stuff on the girls' faces – actually aimed their dick thingies at the girl's face and sprayed their stuff all over it! She'd called Julie a liar at that point, insisted none of those things could possibly be true. But Julie and marched over to her computer, booted it up, and immediately called up a dozen movies, each more disgusting than the other, demonstrating all those things she'd talked about. She'd showed Emily boys sticking their things into girls and rutting like wild animals, she'd showed Emily girls taking boys' things into their mouths and sucking them like big nipples, some of the girls swallowing vigorously, most pulling their mouths off and letting the boy spray the most disgusting, snot-like stuff on them. And the stuff didn't really spray out of the boys' things – it pulsed out in ropy spurts, muscosy, stomach turning gobs that splatted everywhere.

And then Julie had shown her worse stuff – girls letting boys stick their things into their butt holes, where the shit came out of them! And the boys loving it, talking about how tight the girls were back there, like they didn't care what came out of that place. And then Julie had shown her pictures of boys sucking other boys, licking and sucking their big, hairy dicks, taking those dicks in their hairy, disgusting butt holes, doing unspeakable things like licking each other down there, right in the shit place! And all the time grunting and moaning about how good it felt! Julie had even shown Emily some movies with young teenagers in them, kids their age, boys with dicks barely 3 inches long and girls with tight, closed cunts that barely stretched enough to take in the boys' small, pulsing tools. Kids so young that both sexes were hairless down there, or showed only a few long, straggly hairs on their pubic mounds. Julie had even shown here a film of two little boys, maybe only 5 or 6, eagerly undressing and fondling each other and then getting in a head to crotch position on the bed so that each could suck the other's barely visible little penis simultaneously. "See, they're all perverts even when they're young," Julie had said breathlessly. "They'll do anything to get off!" Emily had vowed that day that she wasn't letting any disgusting boy ever even see her privates, let alone touch them or try to put their things inside her.

Yet here she was, about to be seen by whole bunches of boys! It wasn't fair! Girls shouldn't be punished at all, especially not in front of boys! Boys deserved such a fate, because boys were disgusting in every way – their habits, the way their bodies looked, the way they peed, for heaven's sake! All of it disgusting! Boys deserved to be spanked, to be stripped naked and subjugated to females and made to cry like the babies they were! But not girls!

She'd never been spanked that she could remember. Never. She'd always considered that the proper way of things. Girls weren't spanked. Crude, disgusting, violent, loud, disobedient boys were spanked, of course, and it was amusing to watch them get it. She'd loved watching them blush with humiliation as their privates were bared, enjoyed watching them cringe as the first painful slap landed on their soft, unprotected skin, and she always felt absolute joy when the boy began crying in earnest, crying like the baby he was. She'd especially liked watching boys dance afterward, some standing in one place and bobbing, some jumping around the room. She'd been fascinated by their different reactions. Some stood crouched with their hands on their butts in one place, cradling them as they bawled their eyes out, others rubbed their butts vigorously as if they could rub away the pain, and still others stood stiffly with their hands hovering over their crimson butts, as if afraid to touch them. And all of them sporting tiny, shrunken little weenies afterward, not at all scary any more after being put in their places. She'd loved the feeling of superiority she'd gotten watching them cry, their naked butts and privates on display for all to see, making them shrivel, their humiliation as thorough as it could be.

And then, getting to be the one who administered the spanking or paddling! Now that had been the ultimate for Emily! Especially because Chad had been her first time – her very first victim. Chad, who'd seen her naked privates so many years ago and had stared at them so blatantly and then had the nerve to say he didn't remember even seeing her! The first time she'd spanked Chad, she'd felt a rush that exceeded anything she'd ever felt. The way he trembled as he stood before her with his genitals exposed, his fear of the coming pain obvious. The warm weight of his body on her thighs even through the folded towel, his soft flanks upturned for her to abuse at will. The feeling of power when he'd had to lie there, helpless, while she parted his buttocks and exposed his shit hole. (Not that she'd enjoyed looking at it. Shit holes, like the undersides of boys' penises, were downright disgusting, even when spotlessly clean.) His palpable fear when she raised her hand to commence the spanking, communicated by his trembling and involuntary little butt contractions. And getting to grasp his privates with her hand, hold the shriveled, frightened little things, knowing she had the power to squeeze and send him into agony.

But most exciting was the electric sensation of her hand striking Chad's bare butt. The loud smack as her palm landed on his soft skin. The firmness of the muscle underneath, tensing with shock at the pain. The clenching of the buns, the whimpers and the howls as the spanking continued, the knowledge that it was more than he could stand, but he had to keep lying there and take it! Finishing by allowing herself to succumb to the temptation to squeeze his genitals, bring him to a mindless state, a thing only aware of pain, a howling, insensate animal! The power, oh, the power she had!

The power she had once had. No more. Today it had all come crashing down. She stood at the tape, facing the class. No, Chad, her nemesis, a disgusting, hated boy, was going to feel her weight on his lap. He was going to look at her butt, touch it with his hands, maybe even part it and examine her own private areas. Chad was going to feel his hand strike soft, vulnerable skin, feel her tense and sob over his lap, feel the power he had over her. And she was going to be humiliated, utterly and completely humiliated! Because before he did all that, Mrs. Rose was going to make her get naked, totally naked in front of class, like a little toddler girl whose nudity didn't matter in the course of discipline, or worse yet, like boy, a dirty, disgusting boy! But she was a girl! A girl!

Mrs. Rose's voice bore down on her, like the booming notes of a tower clock striking midnight, signaling the execution hour. "Mr. Gitt," she said. "You have betrayed your fellow classmates by fabricating serious charges against them, those charges resulting in severe punishment to two of them and almost resulting in the punishment of a third. You have in the process, cast doubt on our entire disciplinary system. More seriously, you have betrayed my trust in you." She glared around the room. "Because of Mr. Gitt, I undoubtedly will now experience more challenges to school discipline, and so will the other teachers once word of this gets out. Boys will get even cockier, and we're going to have to administer even more severe paddling and other discipline as a result. You boys, all of you, will be experiencing more punishment because of Mr. Gitt. When that happens, remember that you have him to thank for it."

She turned her gaze back to the trembling Emily. "Accordingly, I have no choice but to order that you be stripped naked and taken across Mr. Henson's lap and given a long, hard, slow spanking, just as you youself suggested would be appropriate in this case. I will personally ensure that this spanking involves more blows than any received by any boy so far this year. Your bottom will be thoroughly blistered and sore by the time Mr. Henson is done, Mr. Gitt, and you will be crying uncontrollably, but it is no more than you deserved. Remember, though, that no matter how much it hurts, you must remain over Mr. Henson's lap the entire time, or an additional spanking will be added to your punishment tomorrow morning, which Mr. Henson will also administer. Further, following your spanking, I will order that you remain in the front of the class, standing, until all of your crying has ceased so that you may serve as an example to all the other boys. Following that, you will spend 10 minutes on the stimulator, then you will sit in the corner until lunch time. Mr. Henson will lead you to and from lunch. Immediately following lunch you will be tied to the horse and paddled by Mr. Martinez. Following that punishment, you will again stand in front of class until you've stopped crying, then you'll be sent back to the corner until 2 PM, at which point you'll be tied to the horse again for your genital spanking by Mr. Farlow."

She looked at Emily and smiled an evil smile. "I believe, Mr. Gitt, that this is an experience you will remember for the rest of your life."

Emily was panting in fear now, her heart racing. Her eyes kept darting around the room, seeking escape. Mr. Rose, after pausing significantly, went on. "Mr. Henson, will you please remove Mr. Gitt's shoes and socks."

Chad obediently crouched by Emily's feet, reaching for her shoe. Emily pulled her foot back reflexively. "Come on, Emily," Chad said. "I have to take your clothes."

"Nooooooo!" Emily moaned. "You can't!"

Chad reached for her foot again and snagged it this time, neatly flipping her shoe off her foot. He tossed it into the clothing box. Emily put her stocking clad foot atop her shoed foot, trying to block him.

Chad looked up at her. To her surprise he wasn't smirking – he had genuine sympathy in his eyes. "Please," he said quietly. "Fighting just makes it worse. Ride with it. Go with it. I know it's hard – I've been there, too. I hated it as much as you. But you've gotta let me do it, or they'll make it worse."

He prodded her foot. After a moment, Emily reluctantly relented, moving foot and let him lift it and pull off the other shoe, then stood there passively as he pulled her socks down and prodded each foot one at a time until he could pull them off. Her bare feet, looking for all the world like any boy's feet, twitched nervously. Chad stood up. "Now the shirt," he said softly. He reached for the bottom seam. Emily clapped both hands to her sides, gripping the bottom of her shirt and holding it down. "NO!" she stated. "Mrs. Rose, this charade has gone far enough! I'm not a stinkin' boy, and I'm not letting you satisfy your pervert desires and undress me, Chad Henson! There's no way you're going to take my clothes off! Not here and not anywhere! Do you hear me! I won't put up with it! My mother can't have approved of this! You've all got to be lying about that! I'll go call her! We'll straighten this out! You can't spank me naked! You can't! We'll just call my mother, and she'll set you all straight!"

"No need for that Emily," a quiet voice said from the back of the room. "I'm already here." All heads swiveled to the door of the room, where a tall, thin, worn-looking middle-aged woman stood where she'd just entered. With great dignity, she began walking toward the trio at the front of the class. "I believe I arrived just in time," she said. She held out a hand. "Mrs. Rose, I'm Rosalind Gitt" she said formally. "I believe this is the first time we've met in person."

Mrs. Rose grasped the hand briefly and released it. Emily turned to her mother in relief. "I'm so glad you're here, mother," she said, almost babbling with relief. "Now you can straighten all this out! They're saying I did things I didn't do, things that Chad Henson and his friends made it look like I did! They're saying I'm a boy, and they're going to – going to spank me, of all things. And not just spank me, they say they're going to do it naked! Naked! Like a boy! They were going to take my clothes! Tell them, mother! Tell them it's not right! Tell them right now they can't do it! It's all Chad's fault! He wants to see me naked. He's a pervert, mother – a slobbering, sex-crazed pervert! You have to save me from him! You have to, mother!" She looked at her mother with hope in her eyes.

Mrs. Gitt smiled at her daughter and turned back to Mrs. Rose. "As I was saying, I believe I arrived just in time," she said.

"That's right!" Emily echoed, interrupting. "You're just in time to stop this nonsense and insist that Chad Henson, the real culprit, receive the punishment he deserves instead."

Mrs. Gitt looked at her with a wan smile. "Oh, you misunderstand," she said softly. "I haven't come to stop it." She waggled her eyebrows at Emily like a poor Groucho Marx impression.

"Not come to stop it?" Emily echoed. "But…"
"Oh, be quiet, Sugarbuns!" her mother said firmly. Emily's mouth clapped shut. In his seat, Jimmy Chen grinned with glee.

"Sugarbuns?" he said cheerfully. "Sugarbuns?" He broke into uncontrollable, guffawing laughter.

Mrs. Rose glared at him, but Mrs. Gitt smiled at the outburst. "It's her nickname," she explained. "Because when she was little, she liked hot-cross buns with sugar on them. Well, that and she had the sweetest little tushie! She used to run around naked every chance she got – just pull off her panties and bare it all! And you could have just eaten up her little tushie! So we called her Sugarbuns." Jimmy dissolved into hysterics, joined by much of the rest of the class. Even Mrs. Rose smiled slightly. Emily colored until she was blushing beet red.

"Mother…" she protested. Mrs. Gitt's head swiveled around to face her again.

"Don't 'Mother' me," she said with sharp dignity. "You have brought shame beyond imagining to our whole family with your actions. I may never be able to hold my head up in this community again. The only way I might salvage any of our reputation at all is by insisting that you be punished as completely, painfully, elaborately, humiliatingly, and firmly as any pupil in this school would be punished who had committed a similarly shameful act. I know exactly what your teacher and school officials have decreed that you must suffer for your punishment. I signed a contract approving it, all of it, and also approving additional punishment if you fail to comply with the punishments ordered today. In addition, I intend to punish you in as humiliating a fashion as possible this evening as well at our home, so you can look forward to that as well. I do hope you're free tonight, Mr. Henson." She smiled at Chad. "Oh, I'd recognize you anywhere from Emily's description," she said. She turned back to Emily. "No, Emily 'Sugarbuns' Git, I did not come to stop them from punishing you." She smiled at the class. "I came to get a front row seat."