Tommy's Attitude Adjustment Chapter 75
by Chadlad

copyright 2008 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 75: Northern (and Southern) Exposure

Tommy Henson carried his lunch try to a nearby table, looking for someone to sit with. The only places that even looked promising were a pair of seats next to Wayne. Sitting across from Wayne was Aeisha, with two of her cronies, Sylvie and Natasha, sitting on either side of her. Tommy flushed, and his heart began racing. He wondered what Wayne had already said to Aiesha concerning his plight, or if Wayne had said anything at all. If he had, next to her was the last place he wanted to sit at lunch. He scanned the room, looking for another free spot, but Wayne had already spotted him. "Tommy, my son!" he said, dropping into his Brando voice. "Why didn't you come to me before? If you'd come to me before, those men who hurt your daughter would be suffering this very minute."

"Huh?" Tommy said, freezing in his tracks.

"Don't hate me because I'm beautiful," Wayne said. "Sit down. Take my advice. Pull down your pants and slide on the ice."

"Huh?" Tommy said, more loudly this time.

"MASH," Wayne said. "The episode with the psychiatrist having to do surgery along with the other doctors."

"Wayne, you're weird," Aiesha said, laughing.

"Huh?" Tommy whispered back.

"The dirty deed you want done dirt cheap," Wayne said, now whispering in Tommy's ear. "Aiesha. The picture. I told her. Eat your lunch. Don't take too long. Go to the girls' restroom in the upper hall. No one should be there during lunch. Don't let anyone see you go in. Go in the farthest stall. It'll have a sign that says 'Out of Order' on it. Shut the door and hide in there til she comes. You can thank me later."

They had doors on the stalls of the girls' toilets? Tommy realized he'd never thought about it before, had assumed the girls' bathrooms were like the boys. Dumb, he admonished himself. They'd be all stalls, wouldn't they, in the girls' bathroom. Girls wouldn't need any urinals. And of course the girls would have doors – only boys had their modesty constantly compromised at his school, being stripped, spanked naked, paraded in public at lunch, and being expected to poop in the open.

"But what if some girls come in while I'm in there?" Tommy whispered back.

"Then, Lucy, you'll have some 'splainin' to do," Wayne whispered back. Tommy glared at him. "Just lock it from inside and stand on the toilet so your feet don't show. If other girls come in, don't let them see you're there. Besides Aiesha won't e long – she'll be following right at your heels. Nudge-nudge, wink-wink, say no more."

"Hey, what are you two whispering about?" Aiesha's friend Sylvie asked. "Planning a hot date?"

"With you," Wayne said, now dropping into Bogart. "You have a mouth that needs to be kissed hard and often, sweetheart, and by someone who knows how."

Tommy cringed at the line. Hard and often, and by someone who knows how. Sounded like his spanking schedule the last few days – he'd been spanked hard and often, and certainly by people who knew how, judging by the continuous ache in his backside. Or at least, people who learned fast. For that matter, his butt had been fucked hard and often, too, (at least more often than he'd have preferred), and if the boys fucking him didn't know how, at least they had made up for it with enthusiasm. And he'd sucked cocks hard and often, too... He forced himself to abandon this disturbing line of thinking by trying to picture his triumph when he came home with his photos and foiled Beth's plans.

Aiesha was avoiding looking at him entirely, focusing on the girls beside her, Wayne, and her food. That was all to the good. He wanted to get this over with. Maybe she'd make it easy for him, just pose for the picture without even looking. Yeah, right. Just like he'd do that if the situation was reversed, and it was her genitals he was going to get to see. He'd be on his knees with eyes glued. He chewed glumly and swallowed without even being aware of what he was eating. But at least she wouldn't look long, not in a public place like that where, despite the lunch hour, any girl could come in at any time.

There was a commotion at the entrance to the dining room. A wave of kids turned to look and then stared, conversation failing as the wave spread across the room. Mrs. Rose had come through the door, directing a quartet of boys carrying someone strapped naked to the punishment horse. His brother Chad and that ridiculously white kid were at the front and caused a large part of the initial sensation. Chad was naked, totally, completely naked, his button penis hiding in the cool air and his tight sack outlining his balls as he shuffled along holding his side of the horse, his butt jutting out behind him and his legs flexing from the strain of the weight. Beside him on the other side, the white kid was wearing a shirt and shoes but no pants, and the shirt covered only half of his genitals, so that Tommy could see that his penis and balls were huge for such a small boy, and swayed pendulously as he walked. In fact, the balls looked red and swollen, and it appeared doubtful they would have comfortably fit into a normal pair of boy's briefs designed for a lad with a butt that small. Tommy remembered the boy's dick from the punishment he'd gotten on Friday, the thing hanging like a python as he'd sat on the punishment chair in front along with that fat kid with no dick at all. He wondered, for about the hundredth time, what it would be like to have a big one like that.

Both boys cleared the doorway, Chad's muscular butt and the white kids' thin one straining as they carried the weight of the kid on the horse, a boy with hair so long it hung down over his face in an almost girlish fashion. The boy's body was hard like a boy's, too, hard and bony, and Tommy's attention passed from him to the boy at Chad's side of the back of the horse, a kid who was a real attention getter because he was wearing plaid boxer shorts and no pants, and because his dick was sticking out of his fly and was clearly fully hard, bouncing jauntily from side to side as he hefted his corner of the horse. Tommy noted that the boy's organ was roughly the size of his own before realizing suddenly that it was Jimmy Chen, Chad's best friend. Jimmy of the twisted dick, with a curve strong enough to hang clothes on. What had the poor kid done now to be forced to show its shameful imperfection off once again to the whole student body? It looked like black marker was smeared on his dick, too, marring the top surface, but why he'd have marker there was beyond Tommy. But then again, one could ask just as well why his own dick was orange, Tommy realized, and it would probably be harder to explain.

Tommy couldn't see clearly the boy on the far side from Jimmy, but he at least appeared to have pants on. He had all his clothes on, in fact, making him the only one of the foursome who did. Tommy directed his attention to the kid on the horse. The body from the side was spare and bony, although the chest hung down some in the nipple area on each side of the horse's padded top, like the kid had a fat chest and the fat hung down in a bulge. It seemed odd on such a bony kid, almost like pubescent breast on a female. The visible side of the kid's butt showed the redness and blistering of a severe spanking. Well, of course. He'd have been punished, and was being brought to the dining room on the horse to add to his humiliation, make him lie there with his spanked butt on display as a warning to the other kids, as well as suffering the humiliation of allowing everyone a back view of his anal-genital region, probably spread wide so his ass-hole winked at the kids all through lunch, as Jimmy's had when he'd been in a similar position on the horse.

During this time, the horse carrying boys entered the room fully and started up to the front of the room, the three exposed boys concentrating on their goal and not the kids eyeing their various levels of nudity. They had gotten about ten feet into the room, where the boy on the horse's backside would have finally become fully visible, before a fourth grade boy from the back of the room, where the group had just passed, suddenly stood up so fast he knocked over his chair. "It's a girl! It's girl! It's a GIRL!" he squealed in excitement. "Look, you guys! It's a naked girl!"

"It is!" the girl beside him squealed. "It's a girl on there!" Quentin, who'd been sitting by Gabriel, rose from the chair and began dancing behind the horse, two or three boys joining him to follow the horse up the aisle and view things from close range. Everyone's heads snapped around to stare, trying to see the dim details between the penitent's legs. Excited talking rose in the room to tumultuous levels. Chad, Jimmy, S. F., and Randy reached the front platform and settled the horse in the center, so that the bound child's butt faced the class. For a moment, before a mob of kids blocked his view, Tommy got a clear glimpse of a red ass, a dark butt crack, a dark brown butt hole that looked huge, swollen, and irritated, and an open pink groove under the butt hole curving out of sight. He compared the view to what he'd seen of Alan Delvecchio's cousin Chandra two weeks before from that angle. God, they were right – it was a girl! No balls, and the groove was wide open, because low down on the horse it was penetrated by a pole of some kind! Definitely a girl, all right, because that pole wasn't going into the butt hole, as it would have to on a boy! Mrs. Rose stood on the podium and clapped her hands for silence. The noise dropped dramatically.

"This is Mr. Emile Gitt," she said loudly. "Whatever Mr. Gitt's status in the past might have been, and no matter how his body appears, Mr. Gitt is officially a boy at our school until further notice, and will be referred to and treated as such. Mr. Gitt is being punished for severe violation of school rules including dishonesty of a most egregious sort. His crimes were numerous, including attempts to get several innocent students into serious troubles so that he could participate in their punishments. Such an incredible violation of trust cannot be ignored, and as you all can see Mr. Gitt is being severely punished already. He had already been severely spanked by a classmate, and has spend extended time attached to The Stimulator, and he will be paddled and genital whipped later today. Tomorrow, Mr. Gitt will be suspended, and will be leaving us for an extended stay at the Reverend Abner Goodbody's Religious Retreat, where he will learn humility and obedience through hard work and daily punishments. He will not be returning until he is a changed person, and the Reverend can vouch for his future behavior."

She surveyed the assembled students with a glare. "I'm sure you're wondering if the usual rules for punished boys apply given Mr. Gitt's, ummm, unusual anatomy for a boy. You can rest assured they do. As with all boys being punished, his bare genitals and buttocks are fair game to any of you who wish to touch him there. The same rules apply as always – no violent contact will be allowed – gentle touching and handling of body parts is permissible, but nothing excessive. Any boy violating this prohibition will join Mr. Gitt naked on the podium and become fair game to everyone else. Any girl violating this prohibition will receive detention. As I'm sure a large number of you will want to explore Mr. Gitt's body, we will require that those of you who do must first finish lunch, and then wait in an orderly line beginning here. You will each have 30 seconds with Mr. Gitt, after which you will move along and let the next child have his or her turn. The four boys on the platform will tell you when your turn is up and will monitor your actions. If they tell you to desist in your actions and move on, do so or you will be punished."

Mrs. Rose glanced around the room, fixed on little Quentin, standing near Emily on the horse, his face even with her elevated genital region. "Have you finished lunch and put away your tray, young man?" she asked icily.

"Um, no ma'am!" Quentin said, turning to race back to his seat. "I'll do that right now!" He dropped into his chair and began shoveling peas into his mouth a breakneck speed. "Dibs on first in line!" he announced between swallows.

Mrs. Rose glared at him, then scanned the room. "Oh, and one more thing," she announced. The three boys with their genitals on display are not currently being punished, although that might change at any moment, but as of now they are not aand thus are not fair game to be touched at this time," she added. "They merely have misplaced their clothing, or in Mr. Chen's case, need a refresher on the proper words for male anatomy. Keep your hands off of all four of them. That is all."

There was a scramble as a number of kids who'd gotten to lunch earlier hurried to dump their trays and join the ever growing line behind Emily's horse. Chad and company were placed in chairs flanking either side of the horse, facing forward, so that the three boys with exposed genitals had no choice but to display them to the class. Lunch trays were brought around to them, and the parade of hands touching Emily's bare buttocks, anus, and vulva began, with Quentin, as promised, the first to poke her open labia and stroke her still sore buttocks. Tommy looked across the table from himself, noticing that Aiesha was also almost finished with lunch. She caught his eye and winked at him. No more putting it off, not time even to ask his brother why he was naked. He got up to dump his tray, then, looking around quickly, slipped out the back and hurried down the halls to the end up the upper hall opposite where they boys' room was, to the unfamiliar surrounds of the girls' room. He paused outside for a moment. What if someone was inside? He pushed the door hesitantly, looked in the crack he'd made between door and jam. Sinks against a wall, mirrors on it. No one visible in the mirrors. He pushed the door wider, leaned in to look. No feet visible under the stalls. He hesitated, then, suddenly, heard a rap of high heeled footsteps from just around the corner. Panicking, he dived through the door, out of sight of whoever was coming, and glanced around wildly.

The room was empty. One wall was lined with sinks and mirrors, the other with stalls. The stalls were pained pink, but that wasn't the only contrast with the boys' room. The room was clean – no wet spots on the floor, no aroma of pee that always surrounded the urinals in the boys' room. No paper towels on the floor, or swatches of toilet paper lying around. A white box with a projecting handle was next to the sinks, with a slot to slide two quarters into and a delivery slot across the bottom. "Tampax Slims" it said in colorful letters across the front. Tommy wondered what that was about. A similar box was labeled "Sanitary Napkins." Napkins? Why did girls need napkins in the bathroom?

The tapping of heels rose in Tommy's consciousness again, was growing louder. Approaching the closed door! Actually, he realized, it was more than that – a blending of heel tapping, one set louder, one quieter, blending in and out of sync with each other. His heart leapt as the twin rapping approached the very door he'd just passed through. Almost wetting himself in fright, he dove for the far stall, the one with the "Out of Order" sign, staggering through and shutting the door just as the outside door started to open. Holding his bladder as best he could, he stepped hastily on the toilet seat, dismayed to discover that the toilet had no lid, just the open seat with a hole in the middle, through which he could see quite disgusting-looking brown water. He tried to control his breathing as voices spoke, sounding like they were right on top of him.

"I could have sworn I saw a girl heading into here," A female voice said.

"Looks empty to me," another voice replied. "Anyway, as I was saying, Edna, punishing that girl in front of the boys is a mistake of major proportions. It gives the boys ideas. We've spent years demonstrating that they're lesser creatures, and then we bring a girl down to their level and undo the message. Did you see all the little heathens in the lunch room just now? Stiffies on 95% of them, and that's only because the other 5% are AC-DC. Or pathetic neuters, like that Henson lad."

"Oh, him? I hear that! I swear, every time I see that little dinger of his, barely sticking out, it's all I can do to keep from bursting out laughing," the first female replied.

"I know what you mean," the second voice said, a voice that was shockingly familiar. "A modest boy with much to be modest about, at least in his pants." Now who was that voice? Suddenly he knew. It was Mrs. Johnson! Tommy's very own teacher! What was she doing in the girls' bathroom? Teachers didn't go into the bathrooms for kids, unless they were breaking up a fight or something! Then he realized how stupid that thought was. Of course teachers went to the bathroom – everyone had to. And he hadn't seen it before because he was a boy, and all the teachers at their school, every single one of them, were females. The girls must be used to this sort of thing—must go through it all the time.

He thought about that for a second. But that meant – you couldn't hide noises in the bathroom – that meant – did that mean --

There was a thump of the door right next to Tommy's, the sound of it and the door beyond both being opened simultaneously and then closed and latched. Tommy tried to hold his breath and quiet his thumping heart. They weren't going to – they couldn't—

Rustling noises. Clothing being moved, he realized. A sigh of pleasure. Mrs. Johnson suddenly speaking apparently right next to Tommy, huddling on top the toilet seat in his stall, so close to Tommy he could was sure she'd hear his heart racing. "You might be right," Mrs. Johnson said. "The best thing to do would be to conclude this episode as quickly as possible and get that girl out of here before she causes any more damage. I realize our dear Mrs. Rose must have her revenge, but after that we'd all be better served to get that stupid girl out of here and out of the boys' dirty minds as quickly as possible. There'll be repercussions of this, you can count on it. A whole bunch of boys will consider this whole sorry episode as evidence that the rules have changed, and they'll have to test them. I haven't had to blister a bottom since that poor Fitzroy boy had to have his lesson in deportment."

"Fitzroy?" said the other woman from father down the line, her voice a bit fainter. "The one with his boy equipment still in his belly?"

"The same," Mrs. Johnson said. "Now there's a lad who learned the sting of true humiliation! Imagine not just the shame of being bared and spanked and having to cry in front of his classmates, but having nothing in his sack to be modest about! I couldn't have scripted a lesson better than that one – it sure took him down a peg."

During this pronouncement, Tommy was startled by a new development. A hissing sound erupted from the stall next door, along with the unmistakable sound of pee hitting the water of a toilet. In seconds, a similar sound joined it from the next stall, the hiss a bit higher in pitch but the result the same. Tommy almost yelped in the surprise of it. Peeing! The teachers were peeing! Peeing the way girls do, sitting down. He tried to picture Mrs. Johnson, with her dress pulled up and underpants down at her ankles, and gave up. The whole thing was kind of sickening to contemplate. The hissing and water splashing sounds continued, the hissing sounding ominous to his ears. Was it something about their female parts that made that noise? Thank God boys didn't hiss like that when they peed!

"Mark my words," Mrs. Johnson continued. "I guarantee you I'll have to blister a couple before the week is out just to keep the rest in line. I'll probably have to do one before the day is out. Take up more class time just to keep the ornery boys in line. And it's all that damned girl's fault."

"I know what you mean," said the other woman. "I'm going to have to choose someone to make an example of this afternoon or tomorrow, or all hell is going to break loose. Of course, I could just use Quentin – you can count on him for shenanigans on a daily basis, and he is cute as a bunny all nakey. But then again, maybe the new boy would make a better object lesson – he's bound to have trouble adjusting, and a good tail-warming might help him along. Of course, I could just do both – tandem acts are rather fun."

New boy? Was there any new boy in school but Gabriel? Realizatin dawned on him – the voice was his old third grade teacher from three years back! He was trapped in the bathroom – how would he warn Gabriel, anyway?

Chad would figure it out. Chad would find some way to save his cousin, Tommy supposed. Right now, he couldn't interest himself much in the issue – might serve the little brat right to get his own tail warmed – maybe he'd have more sympathy for Tommy then.

The peeing went on for some time, the women falling silent, and his own bladder responded, contracting, signaling it wouldn't mind some of that, too. He fought the pee urge, almost irresistible with a toilet under his feet begging him to use it. He heard toilet paper being unrolled, more rustlings, more toilet paper being accessed, then the two toilets flushed almost simultaneously. The door next to him banged, and heeled footsteps crossed the floor, the other door banging moments later and the second, quieter set of steps joining the first. Water splashed in the sinks across the room, sounds of busy hand washing. How many boys washed their hands, he wondered to himself. Darn few.

"How about you? Any particular target in mind?" his old teacher asked Mrs. Johnson.

"Honestly?" Mrs. Johnson said. "I wouldn't mind doing the younger Henson boy!"

Tommy almost lost his balance, and it was all he could to do keep from crying He caught himself by throwing a hand out to the wall, making a soft thump that, for a moment, he was sure could be heard throughout the room. But the women at the sinks continued talking, oblivious.

"If for no other reason than to see if he's even more poorly hung than his brother," Mrs. Johnson continued. That's a family trait, you know. And if he is, it's the best way in the world to take a smug male down a peg."

"That one? You'll never catch him at anything. He's a saint. Or rather, he plays one on TV, if you know what I mean. He's an actor, that one. Cold and calculating. Presents just the face you want to see. Butter wouldn't melt in his mouth," Tommy's old 3rd grade teacher said.

"I know which face of him I'd like to see," Mrs. Johnson said. "The one with the permanent vertical smile, preferably bent over a bench, legs spread for good access and better viewing by his classmates. He's too smug by half, that one. It's 'yes, Mrs. Johnson,' and 'no, Mrs. Johnson,' and 'absolutely Mrs. Johnson.' Yet I get the feeling if I turned my back he might push me under a bus."

More water ran. Towels were torn. "What do you suppose our dear Mrs. Rose was trying to demonstrate by having the Chen boy in his boxers with Mr. Happy out the fly?" the third grade teacher said. "Other than an attempt to spoil my appetite for lunch, that is."

"Poor little Jimmy's not a fortunate boy in the area of genital attractiveness, is he," Mrs. Johnson laughed. "You know, we could probably encourage abstinence in our girls more effectively by just having him parade around naked with that thing on display than any 10 speeches from Reverend Abner breathing fire and brimstone. What is that, a botched circumcision or something? I never saw such a twisted mess. And curved? You could use him for a boat hook! I tell you, just have him parade that thing around and none of our girls would want to touch one for years."

Tommy's eyes widened as he listened to the teachers casually mock Jimmy Chen's twisted penis. He, himself, hadn't thought Jimmy looked that bad – the twists were kind of intriguing, and the prominent head had stirred feelings in him when he'd seen it standing up, throbbing, just moments before. He wondered, for a moment, if he could do to Jimmy what he'd done to Jesse, and Elvin, and his brother, take the older boy's throbbing, twisted tool into his mouth and suck on it until Jimmy came. He wondered how the twisted skin would feel against his tongue. Jimmy would squirt, too – maybe a lot, not just a little like his brother. He noticed, suddenly, the tightness of his pants, his weary penis gamely coming to life. Stop it! Stop it! He shrieked at himself in his mind. Even if you like Jesse, that doesn't mean you like boys in general! He screamed at his organ silently, but it continued hardening, oblivious to his distress, and he couldn't put the picture of Jimmy's hard penis out of his thoughts.

Mrs. Johnson stifled a laugh. "You want to scare them to death, just trot the Farlow boy into their midst with a stiffy! They'd all run screaming from the room! That boy must top 6 inches erect, and he's barely getting started growing! He'll have a 7 incher before he's done, I'm wagering, with a good girth too! A real crotch ripper, that one! I swear, it puts my husband to shame! Too bad he's not legal -- that's one pony ride I'd take!"

It was unfathomable, and he put the thought out of his head.

The room was empty. Tommy's bladder was still bursting. Quickly he pulled his zipper, took out his orange penis, and pointed it straight down by hunching over the open seat. Liquid surged, filling the room with the powerful, sure sounds of a boy peeing, so much more reassuring than the sounds that had filled this room moments ago, the fluid falling from a greater distance with a boy's insistent pressure. He hurried to finish, and was just pulsing his final squirt when he heard the door opening. Hastily, he shoved his penis back in his pants, dribbling the final drops into the cloth as he did, trying to pull of the zipper silently. He felt the dampness, looked down. Damn, he had dribbled so much there was a telltale spot on the front of his pants, right over the lower part of the bulge. Great, just great! He heard footsteps quietly crossing the room, and stopped breathing.

He was surprised at the voice that came next. "Are you in there, Tommy?" a low voice, a boy's voice said.

"Neither are you," Wayne said. "Girls' room and all that. Message from the front, sir," he added. Tommy could hear his heels clicking and assumed the strange boy had just saluted the closed door.

There was a moment of silence, then Tommy heard a thump. A cardboard box about a foot square slid under the stall door. "Aiesha says take your clothes all off and put them in the box, then slide it back out."

Disliking talking through the door and tired of balancing precariously on the toilet seat, Tommy got down off the toilet and opened the stall. "You'll get us caught!" he hissed.

"No I won't," Wayne said reasonably. "Aiesha's watching the door, and she's got sentries posted down the hall. No one can sneak up. But she says she won't come in and take the picture unless she's sure you're not trying to pull something. So she wants you naked so she knows you're not up to something."

Tommy considered this. He didn't like the idea of lurking around on school property naked. He knew what would happen if a teacher caught him – Mrs. Johnson would find the fact he was already naked entirely too convenient for what she would be doing to him, especially given her words of moments ago. "I don't like it," he said to Wayne. "Can't I just keep my stuff on 'til she gets there, and pull down the front like I did with you? She doesn't even have to look at me."

"No can do," Wayne replied. "The lady is a tramp. All the way naked, or not at all, she says." He glanced down at Tommy and frowned. "You wet yourself," he said conversationally. "Gotta make sure the cobra's done spitting before you put him back in the cage."

Tommy flushed in embarrassment. Wayne spread his hands and backed away from Tommy's scowl. "Hey, none of my business," he said. "But if my brother had a reputation for peeing his pants, I'd be more careful myself, that's what I'm saying." He pointed to the box, still in the stall. "Just go back in the stall, put your clothes in it, and shove it out. I'll take it to her. I don't even have to look at you. Heck, I don't want to look at you. If it was me, I'd want you as covered up as possible. But she wants the see the ol' sausage, so what can I do?" He leaned over to Tommy conspiratorially. "She likes looking it us guys. I flashed the ol' sausage at her a time or too, myself, you know. She really digs 'em. And to tell you the truth, I think she wants me."

What?" Tommy said.

"Alred! Batman's valet! Well, Bruce Wayne's, anyway. God, don't you get to see any movies at all?" Wayne said, shaking his head. He struck a pose. "I am the Dark Knight of Gotham City!" he said theatrically.

"NO!" Tommy said forcefully.

Wayne made a shushing motion with his hands. "Keep your voice down," he said in a mock whisper. "The walls have ears. Look, you can get undressed in the stall – then I don't have to see you and you don't have to show yourself to me. Slide the box out when you're done."

Tommy slipped back into the stall and shut the door. Here goes nothing, he thought. Screwing up his courage, he slipped off his shoes and socks, his shirt, and then, more reluctantly, pulled off pants and underpants and stepped out of them, hiding the slightly dampened pants and even more dampened underpants under his shirt and shoes. He shoved the box out under the door and saw it snatched away and hear Wayne's footsteps recede.

Tommy stood naked in the stall. He felt incredibly self-conscious. He looked down at his orange-red genitals, still slightly sore from their misuse the last few days. He tried to picture opening the stall, stepping out to let the girl look at him. He didn't want a girl from his classto look at his genitals, and not just because they were painted orange with Mercurichrome. He had the insane notion that any girl looking at him would take one glance at his package and immediately announce, with scorn, "Oh, you've been butt fucking you boy friends, haven't you! I can tell just by looking! You like sticking that in boys' butts, don't you! Probably like sucking their dicks, too, don't you!" He shook himself all over, like a dog arising from a nap. Had to stop thinking like that. He wasn't weird – he just was confused, that's all. Feeling his goats, as Jesse has said.

He was regretting agreeing to this. Maybe he should just have risked Beth's punishment. He thought about his aching butt, his violated butt hole, and the vulnerability of his balls. No, not a good risk. Not a good idea at all. If he showed up with the pictures, he could argue that Beth had agreed not to punish him, and Chad and his cousins would back him up – well, Chad, anyway. And then he'd avoid more butt torture or whatever other evil thing she had planned. So this way was better. Yes, now he was at Aiesha's tender mercies, with only a stall door that didn't even go to the bottom to hide his nudity, but anything was better than being at Beth's mercy. He looked down at his package, still almost glowing and orange red. He wasn't hard, at least. When she got there, he'd go out with chin high and thrust his crotch right at her. He'd show her he was proud to be a boy! Heck, she'd probably be impressed – he wasn't badly hung, after all.

A minute passed, a minute during which his heart never stopped pounding. At last, when he'd almost given up, he heard the door open, soft rustlings of someone entering.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are!" a girl's voice said in sing-song fashion. Feet appeared just in front of his door. "Come out and show your stuff, Tommy Henson, if you want your picture!"

Tommy hesitated, his courage failing him. "Come on," the voice said again. "If you're not out in 5 seconds, the whole deal is off."

Sighing, Tommy climbed back down off the toilet and slid open the catch. He debated cupping his crotch with both hands, but couldn't open the door that way and settled for shielding himself awkwardly with one hand. He slid the door slowly inward and peeked out. Aiesha was standing there, no one else in sight, one eyebrow raised. "Well?" she said questioningly. "Are you going to bare it all, or not? I don't have all day."

Encouraged by her being alone, as advertised, Tommy stepped as manfully around the door as he could while still shielding his genitals. Aeisha suddenly reached out and pulled him out by the shoulder, shoving him to the center of the room and closing the stall door behind her.

"Okay, girls, you can come in!" she said calmly.

She only spoke at conversational level, but the girls outside must have been waiting for the cue, because the door immediately flew open, a half dozen girls poured into the room, pushing ahead of them the hapless Wayne. Tommy's heart almost jumped out of his chest and he clutched both hands to his package, backing to the far wall to shield his bare butt. He looked at Wayne with accusingly. But Wayne was not paying attention.

"Come on," he was protesting. "You guys said I could go after I got his clothes! You promised!"

"Promises, promises," Natasha said mockingly. "You promised you wouldn't be a butt, too, but just look at you."

"Hey, really!" Wayne protested. "Let me out of here!

"Shut up," Aiesha said. "You know what I can do to you! You stand there and wait until I say I'm done with you." Wayne, obviously not happy, nonetheless subsided and stood in the center of the girls flexing his hands nervously. Aiesha nodded at him in satisfaction of his submission and turned back to Tommy.

Tommy, hunched in the corner protecting his nudity, scanned the room trying to figure out how to escape. There were 6 other girls besides Aiesha in the room, 4 from his class, and two from the fifth grade. Along with Natasha, Sylvie was there, grinning slyly at him as he tried to cover his crotch, and so was her younger sister. He knew the other 3 girls, too. They stood looking at him, craning their necks and trying fervently to get a look at his genitals. He tightened his grip on his crotch. Aiesha reach for his right arm and pulled on it.

"Come on, Tommy Henson. Show us the goods. Then I'll take your precious picture," she said, yanking at his arm as she spoke. She was big, and it was all Tommy could do to keep himself covered.

"Hey, give me back my clothes! I didn't say you could let them see me!" Tommy protested. "Just you!"

"Well, they're here," Aiesha said, still trying to uncover the boy's crotch. "And if you want your pants back, you'll let them look."

"I'm telling!" Tommy threatened, fighting back.

"Telling what?" Aiesha said. "That you snuck into here and undressed so you could flash your little peepee at the girls? That you came out of the stall playing with yourself? Because that's what we saw, wasn't it, girls?" There were gleeful nodding all round.

Wayne looked pained. "A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do," he said sadly.

"He's saying won't help you," Aiesha said. "'Cause I've got the goods on him. Don't I, Waynie-boy?"

"Aiesha..." Wayne said pleadingly.

"What?" Aiesha said, sneering at him. "I do, you know. I've got Waynie-boy by the short and curlies, or I would if he had any, which I know for a fact he doesn't!"

"Come on, Aiesha! You promised...." Wayne said, a note of desperation in his voice.

"Aw, come on, Waynie-boy – lighten up! It's too good a story not to share!"

Wayne opened his mouth, but then appeared to be on the verge of hyperventilating. "Need... breather...." He panted, pawing at his pants and finally extracting an asthma breather. He sucked at it eagerly.

"Cat got your tongue, Waynie?" Aiesha said as Wayne sucked on the breather, trying to catch his breath. "Too bad. I guess I'll have to tell them. 'Bout a month ago, went across upstairs to Waynie-boy's apartment. When I got there, I decided to sneak in and surprise him, so I tried the door and it was unlocked. I slipped in, quiet as I could, and down the hall to his bedroom. I poked my head around, got ready to yell, 'surprise' and scare the shit out of him, and what do you suppose I see?"

"Ai...esh...a," Wayne panted, his face beet red. "P.....Please!"

"I see old Waynie boy, stretched out on his bed! Butt naked! Staring at the ceiling, legs spread, toes curled, and guess where his hands were?"

"Naked? You walked in on him naked?" Sylvie said excitedly. "Like, you could see everything?"

Wayne's face was bright red, and he looked like he was about to either explode or expire on the spot. He sucked greedily on his breather.

"Don't interrupt," Aiesha said. "Yes, he was a butt naked as Tommy-boy is right now. But more than that, he was shaking hands with his best friend, and he was using the secret handshake, if you know what I mean."

"He was what?" Sylvie said, puzzled.

"Pulling the pork! Yanking the crank! Spanking the monkey!" Aiesha said. Sylvie still looked puzzled. "Rubbing his dick," Aiesha said condescendingly. "Didn't even see me, he was so intent on it. So I whipped out the old cell phone, and, presto – instant blackmail material! I musta got a dozen shots of Waynie-boy petting the anteater." She smiled at Wayne. "That's the best one for you, isn't it --- cause it kinda looks like an anteater nose after you're done and it goes soft."

"Aiesha..." Wayne said in distress. "You promised."

"I promised not to show the pictures to people, I didn't say I wouldn't talk about it," Aiesha said. "Besides, yours does look like an anteater nose – all pointy and droopy, and with that big hole in the center like they have to suck up ants."

"I wanna see," Sylvie said, turning to Wayne.

"Another day," Aiesha said. "Waynie-boy is kinda shy. Not surprising, I guess, when you see what he's got down there. Not to mention he's still bald as a baby."

"I am not!" Wayne said indignantly, having restored his breath and calmed down a bit. "I've got hairs there! I counted 18 this morning!"

The girls all burst into laughter, and Wayne fell silent again, realizing he should have stayed that way to start with. Aiesha turned to Tommy. "This is our target today, girls. Tommy Goody-two-shoes Henson." The original teacher's pet. What do you girls want to bet he's got another mouth down there, so he can kiss Old Lady Johnson's ass without having to bend over?"

Tommy cowered in the corner, hunched over his genitals. Why had he thought this was a good idea? He glanced around wildly, but saw no sign of the box with his clothes in it.

"So what's it gonna be, stud?" Aiesha said. "Do you stop covering yourself and let my posse look, or do we go to Mrs. Johnson and tell her you were in here when we came in, standing big as you please right in the center of your room, smiling and rubbing your dick?"

Sylvie was still trying to get a clear look at Tommy's covered genitals. "Hey, Wayne wasn't lying – he's got red stuff on him!" she finally said triumphantly. Tommy glanced down, trying to make sure all of his vital bits were covered. He saw an errant edge of his scrotum trying to escape and gathered it back in his cupped hands. Aiesha crossed her arms and glared at him. "I'm counting to 5," she said. "If those hands aren't at your sides by then, we go see Mr.s Johnson.

Tommy panicked. "No!" he said, straightening up. "Look, I'll let you see! I'm moving my hands now! See, I'm letting you look!" He let go of his genitals and straightened up, his arms awkwardly at his sides now. There was a stir as the girls shifted for a better viewing angle, while Aiesha looked his naked body up and down with practiced ease.

There was a pause. "Not bad," Aiesha finally said. "Not as well hung as Palomino boy out there in the dining room, but not bad. Definitely better hung than your stupid brother. And not all droopy and pointy like Waynie-boy. No pubes, though. Most of the guys who have dicks the size of yours have pubes."

Tommy tried to find his voice, to explain that he really was more mature than that, and that his sister had shaved him to heighten his humiliation. Nothing came out but a hoarse croak, the humiliation of the moment overwhelming him.

Sylvie stared, apparently mesmerized, while Natasha looked at Tommy's naked genitals with arrogant disdain. "Why's he got the red stuff on him again?" Sylvie finally said.

"His sister did it. With Bactine or something," Wayne explained. "I don't know why she'd do that."

"What's with his butt?" Sylvie's sister asked suddenly. "He looks like he got a whippin' or something. I thought you said he'd never been whipped in class."

"Let's see," Aiesha said. "Turn around, Tommy-boy, and show us your ass."

"Can't you just take the picture now?" Tommy asked a bit hoarsely. "Haven't you seen enough?"

"I don't," Wayne said.

"Shut up unless you want to join him," Aiesha said. Wayne shut up. "Do it," she added. "I'm running out of time and patience. The bell's going to ring in just a few minutes, and we'll all need to be gone by then. If you want your picture and your clothes, you'll do as I say now."

Sighing again, Tommy bent over and reached back to spread his tender butt, his humiliation complete. The girls examined him from their various vantage points. Tommy's dread began rising – any moment they'd notice that he'd been violated back there, and realize he'd been butt fucked by other boys. Any minute now, his humiliation would be complete.

"Okay, you can straighten up and turn around again," Aiesha said dismissively. "Man, you boys are ugly from that angle, with your stupid sacks hanging down! Not nice and smooth like us girls! I still don't get why you think you're such hot stuff!" She leaned over and gave his penis a dismissive swipe, making it wobble for a moment before pointing downward again.

"Can I touch it?" Sylvie said. Tommy struggled to say, "no," but couldn't find his voice again. He stood there on weak knees, humiliated by their close examination.

"Sure," Aiesha said. "Right, Tommy-boy? You guys like us touching it, don't you? That's what all the boys want."

Tommy finally got his voice to working. "Picture," he panted. "Can we take the picture and be done with it?"

"Not so fast, lover boy," Aiesha said. "My friend wants to touch your little dingus. And I always try to accommodate my friends."

"I've always depended on the kindness of strangers," Wayne quipped. The two girls looked at him in exasperation and he clamped his mouth shut again. Sylvie advanced on Tommy, who took two steps back, until his butt contacted the far wall and he had to stopSylvie poked the tip of his penis. For some reason, Tommy was frozen now, like a cornered deer backed against a grove of trees. Emboldened, Sylvie poked it again, several more times, then grasped the head between thumb and forefinger and gave it a yank, stretching it to fully length. Aiesha laughed.

"Kinda pathetic, isn't it?" she said to Sylvie. "I mean, he's probably bigger than most of the other little cocksuckers in our class, and yet, this is all he has. These boys all act like they're such hot stuff 'cause they've got these things, and they don't amount to a hill of beans. Just little dangling pinkies, that's all they are."

"His is orange," Wayne corrected. "Not pink."

"And yours looks like an anteater nose," Aiesha said. "But they're all pathetic. Yours is even more pathetic than his. And his brother's is truly sad."

Wayne was looking abashed. "You said it was cute," he accused. "You said you liked it."

"I said I'd like to cut it off and cook it on a spit," Aisha said dismissively. "I don't like any of them, not the anteaters like yours, not the sagging extra thumbs, and certainly not the mushroom heads like his dorky brother's." She hooked a finger at Tommy. " They all look stupid and pathetic. Even hard. Especially hard."

Aiesha looked at Tommy, still standing there helplessly, allowing Sylvie to pull on his flaccid pole. "Say, Tommy-boy? How big does yours get?" she asked, her face taking on an evil leer. She hooked a thumb at Wayne. "Waynie-boy doesn't even get to three inches! And that includes the pointy tip!"

Tommy's mind was racing. Were they just going to torture him? He should have taken whatever Beth was willing to dish out. Aiesha, meanwhile, batted Sylvie's hand away from his dick and began milking him more expertly, with the small strokes of someone who's had lots of practice. Despite his discomfort, Tommy's dick began rising until it reached its full extension in moments. She released Tommy and the other girls looked at his crotch in rapt concentration.

"What's the rush?" One of Aiesha's 5th grade friends said. "I want to enjoy this for a bit. It's like something in a novel, or a poem – tracking the wild animal to its lair.

"This is our lair," Aiesha corrected. "And there's nothing poetic about boys dicks."

"Sure there is," Wayne said. "I already wrote a poem about it. It's in my pocket."

The girls looked at him. Too late, he realize he shouldn't have been talking.

"A poem?" Aiesha said, arching an eyebrow again. "So let's hear it."

"Read what?" Wayne said, trying to act innocent. "What girl in what messsage? I don't know any Obi-wan Kenobi."

"You already said it was in your pocket," Aiesha said. "If I have to get it, the pants are coming off with it, whether we have a deal or not. Pants and underpants both."

Wayne gulped. "Wait a sec," he said, fishing in his pockets frantically. "Here it is," he said with relief, holding out a piece of rumpled paper covered with erasures. He glanced at the girls and cleared his throat. "Give me a minute," he said. He scanned the paper, hummed to himself. "Okay," he said. "Here goes. It's kind of a song – it goes to 'Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.'" He began singing softly.

"Tommy the red-dicked schoolboy,
Had a funny painted dick.
And if you ever saw it,
It would probably make you sick.
All of his other classmates,
Tried to get a look at it.
They all wished that poor Tommy,
Would have to go and take a shit."

"'Cause the toilet stalls in the boys' have no doors," Wayne explained. "So if he went to take a shit, we'd see it. It's not like in here. We have those things you pee in, too, and you don't."

"We get it," Aiesha said. "Go on. Read the rest of it."

Wayne looked back at his paper. "Where was I?" he mused. "Oh, yeah."

"Then one Monday afternoon,
Tommy came to say,
I need a girl to touch my bone,
And capture it upon my phone.

Then all the girls gathered round him,
And they shouted out with glee,
Tommy, the red-dicked schoolboy,
Come and show your thing to me!"

Wayne paused in his singing. "I've got more verses. Wanna hear them?"

"No!" Tommy said.

"Yes!" Sylvie and the other girls chorused. Silvie had relinquished her hold on Tommy's penis and was letting the other girls touch his organ now. Aeisha turned to Tommy. "You're not being nice," she said. "Wayne's my friend. You be nice to him, or no picture. And no clothes back, either. Go on, Wayne," she said insistently.

"Okay," Wayne said. He struck a dramatic singing pose. "Second verse."

"Tommy the red-dicked schoolboy,
Had to show the girls his cock!
It wasn't big or hairy,
Wouldn't fill out a baby's sock!

None of the girls would touch it,
Said it looked just like a turd!
Tommy, he almost cried then!
When he heard his dick called merde!"

"Merde means shit in French, Wayne said, pausing in mid verse.

"No shit?" Aiesah said, causing Sylvie to laugh out loud and several other girls to giggle.

"Come on, guys," Tommy said desparately. The touch of the latest girl was getting to him. He'd already had to contract his butt involuntarily several times, and was beginning to feel the liquid pressure in the base of his dick that signaled imminent orgasm. "Take the stupid picture and give me back my pants! What if a teacher decides to check this place out! We'll all get paddled!"

"Naw. Just you," Aiesha said. "I've got my gals covering the door and the halls. They'll beep my phone if anyone comes near, and we'll slip out the back before they can get in."

Tommy wasn't mollified. "Come on," he said pleadingly. "You said you'd be in the picture if I took off my pants. Then you said you'd give me back my pants after I let your friends look at me, too! I let them look! I even let them touch! Now let me take the picture and give me back my pants."

"Not yet," Aiesha said. "Not 'til you cum."

"Can I finish my song?" Wayne asked.

Tommy lost control then, the muscles in his abdomen pumping and forcing him to thrust as his dick spilled its usual spurt of sticky droplets, the first few clearing his dick by a couple of inches, the rest dribbling down. The girl milking him stopped rubbing and let go of his organ, leaving it bouncing in the air, still dribbling. "EEeyyyoooo," a girl groaned. "Gross! It's like a baby spitting up!"

"A really small baby," Aiesha smirked. "Okay, show's over, girls!" she added. Her hand popped up with Beth's camera in it, apparently fished out of his pants pocket from the clothes box. She leaned back, snapping the picture of Tommy's last dribbles with the girl who'd produced them still in the background. She pushed the review button and looked at the picture with satisfaction. "Tasty," she commented. She sat the camera on the sink. "Everybody out!" she said.

"Wait!" Tommy said, still breathless from orgasm. "What about my clothes?"

"I'll leave them," Aiesha said. "If you get caught, don't blame us. We'll stand by our story that you came out wanking. And Wayne'll say you said you were going to do it."

The other girls filed out, Wayne bringing up the rear. "Sorry, Tommy," he said regretfully, as he slid out with the girls shielding him. "You know how it is."

Tommy was alone, naked, his penis still dripping and a mess on the floor. He shook out of his stupor and grabbed paper towels, wiping himself frantically. Lunch period was almost over! He swiped at the floor, tossed the towels at the bin, and looked around for the promised box. Nothing. Maybe she left it just outside the door. He cautiously pushed the door open and put an eye up to it. The hall was empty. Getting more desperate, he looked around the corner of the door. There the box was, sitting across the hall, a good 5 feet away. He needed to get it, before anyone spotted him, naked and in the girls' bathroom. He looked both ways and darted out, the door closing behind him. Stooping, he scooped up the box and turned to dive back into the door, looking down the hall frantically as he did. With stunning suddenness, he crashed hard into something – something big, and padded, and something that had not been there a moment ago.

"Well, what have we here?" an adult female voice said. "A little boy without his clothes, trying to get into the girls' bathroom! A boy who's recently been severely spanked, as well, I see." The hands began turning him to face toward the speaker. There was a sharp intake of breath. "My goodness!" the voice said. "What, in the name of all that is holy, have you done to your little penis?"