Tommy's Attitude Adjustment Chapter 76
by Chadlad

copyright 2008 by Chadlad, all rights reserved
[email protected]

* * * * *
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.
* * * * *

Chapter 76: Band of Brothers

The line for access to Emily Gitt never seemed to get any shorter. Young Quentin, bolting his lunch, had managed to be first in line. He spent 15 seconds energetically rubbing Emily's sore, blistered butt. "You know how they ask people if they want a Hertz donut? Well, it hurts, don't it?" he said to Emily's blank stare, giggling as he did. Emily signaled that she was done communicating with people now, by merely staring at the wall from her position on the horse in stony silence. "Remember when I got spanked?" Quentin asked Chad, who was working on his own lunch yet. Chad had surprised himself by enjoying lunch – the fact he was butt naked he hardly thought about any more – he was too busy thinking about all that had happened since that morning. Thinking he was going to be paddled to within an inch of his life for a theft he hadn't done, being so frightened he once again wet his pants in school, then the sudden reprieve, the turning of the tables on the hated Emily that had sent him staggering in relief. That had been followed quickly by him finding himself in the position of Emily's disciplinarian, and the heady, unbelievable, overwhelming experience of being asked to spank her butt – not just a little bit, but a lot, as long and as hard as he wanted, until his hand was sore and her butt was massed with blisters. He'd become absolutely giddy listening to her cry and beg, hadn't felt even the least bit sorry for her. It had been thoroughly fulfilling to watch her standing there afterward, bawling, her bare tits and pussy open to the prying eyes of every boy in the room. Showing all her secrets to everyone, including the fact of the padded bra, the ugly butt hole, and the ragged, sloppy looking girl parts. Maybe now she knew something of how he'd felt when she'd been gleefully blistering his own bare butt, mocking his own immature genitals.

"Man, that hurt!" Quentin continued. "You know, the last time I got spanked. You were there Chad. Of course, I've gotten spanked in class before, but never bare – just on my underwear. And I got paddled once, and that hurt a lot, too. But that was on my underwear, too."

"Sounds like you get spanked a lot," Chad said.

"Twenty-three times so far," Quentin said cheerfully, letting his hands drift over Emily's bumpy, blistered cheeks. He probed her anus tentatively. "But that's only at school. I got my first school spanking in kindergarten, the first week we started. I bopped Denny Piltz with a dump truck. Next thing I know, I'm looking at the floor over Mrs. Sanders' knees and my butt's on fire."

He let his hands drift over the bumpy surface of the girl's butt, nodding as Emily couldn't help clenching her buns as his handling reawakened the sting in them. Her clenching was ineffectual, of course, because she was tied to the horse, and so Quentin let his hand drift on in, unabashedly feeling the ridges of the girl's dark brown anus. "My butt hole isn't ugly like this is it?" Quentin asked without embarrassment. "I mean, I've looked at mine in the mirror, it doesn't look like this. It's little and pink. Like Chad's. And it doesn't look so much like a mouth."

"Nobody's butt hole is that ugly," Jimmy Chan replied. "Not even Joey Turpin's. Bitchey here is in a class by herself."

"I still don't believe it!" He said, speaking barely above a whisper so only Chad could hear him. "I can't believe you took her right there on the floor, right in front of everybody! I mean, you had your cock in her and everything! And you came! Right inside her! In her cunt! You said so! You know what that means? You fucked Emily Gitt in her cunt! I mean, Chad, you got even for all of us! You got to fuck her! Right in her cunt! "

"That doesn't matter," Jimmy insisted;, still in a hoarse whisper. "You still fucked her. I mean, you really fucked her! You had your dick right inside her cunt! You came in her! Mrs. Rose said you did! Heck, she might be pregnant with your kid! You two might have to get married!" He leaned over by Emily's head. "Hey, Bitchy! My boy Chad might have knocked you up when he nailed you! Did you think about that?" he said loudly enough to carry to her. Emily stared off into space, not even blinking, concentrating on ignoring him, concentrating on ignoring the rude little fingers currently feeling her up and prying into her most private places. She recoiled every time she thought about the past or the future. She couldn't face either one. What she'd done—that stupid Stimulator had driven her mad, so she didn't even know what she was doing. She'd been like someone else watching helplessly from her own eyes as her hand, with a volition all its own, had ripped the diaper off her hated rival. Seeing the little upstanding penis, she'd become a mindless animal, knowing only that she needed to have that inside her right then, and no matter the boy it was attached to. When she'd come to herself again, she'd been pulled off of Chad, and she could feel the space insider her his hard little rod had filled. She'd been shocked how big it had felt inside her, and how….how good! That was the most shameful thing – how good it had felt! Like it belonged there. Like she'd like to have it back. And she couldn't stand herself for that feeling.

But the present wasn't any better. She was helpless now. Naked, and helpless, and on display in front the entire school, her shameful genitals, her unsightly anus, all her parts visible to everyone! She couldn't move her hands to block their view, she couldn't even close her buttocks. All through this lunch, hands would be touching her, rubbing her, probing her secret places. Boy hands, mostly. Hands attached to people with those disgusting, upthrust, pointy little dicks where a smooth, neat furrow should be. Dirty, piggy, disgusting boy hands. Touching her in all her private places. She could feel the fingernails digging into her butt, the despicable boys in charge of her doing nothing to stop the eager little brats from torturing her. Stupid, turd-faced Jimmy Chen had even told the little brats they could stick fingers into her up to their first knuckle, and thus she found little fingers wiggling in her anus and next to the peg piercing her vagina almost continuously. To make it worse, in order to speed up the line, turd-face was allowing two boys to touch her at once, so at any given time she had four dirty hands on her. How much longer was lunch going to last? It had seemed to short when Chad was sitting up here, and she'd been savoring every moment of his discomfort. How could it be so long now?

And she couldn't even hope for it to be over. Because what happened after was over didn't even bear thinking about. Those four stupid boys with their stupid floppy dicks and their wrinkled, unslightly bags under them would be carrying her back to the classroom, where stupid, fat-assed, tiny-dicked Randy Martinez was scheduled to paddle her on the horse, to actually stand beside her and hit her over and over again on her unbearably sore butt with a paddle. Probably for as long as he wanted, just as Microdick had been allowed to do. She didn't even want to think how much that would hurt! She hadn't been able to stand it when stupid Microdick was spanking her! All she'd been able to think about was how much her butt hurt! And now she was going to get paddled! They probably wouldn't even let her off the horse, not after her repeated attempts at escape! They probably just keep her tied down, and let him paddle her just as she currently was, with this stupid stake in her pussy and her butt spread wide, so every inch of it was vulnerable.

A sharp little finger nail jabbed her pussy near her butt hole, right next to the impaling stake, and she tightened her butt involuntarily, getting a giggle from the kids behind her. The pressure of the weight of her body on the horse made her aware of another need, a need that she realized had become more pressing throughout the morning's events. She had to pee. She had avoided peeing when those three shits had taken her to the bathroom—the enema's urgency had meant that she had voided the entire contents from her backside, but she had been damned if she was gonna let those little perverts watch her pee and she had restrained from doing so. But now, she wished she had, and humiliation be damned! She had to pee! The pressure on her stomach meant even more pressure on her bladder, and that made it worse. She had to pee badly, and how was that going to happen? She cast her mind back to when Chad Hanson had needed to pee in the middle of being spanked. Despite her current condition she almost grinned to herself. Hell, when hadn't he had to pee when he was being spanked or otherwise dressed down in front of class? That very first day, three weeks ago, when the little shit had been facing only an underpants spanking, he lost control right on the teacher then, peeing his underpants as well as the towel she had wisely placed between her and his crotch. She'd thought it was hilarious that the little shit had suffered the humiliation of peeing his underpants like a baby just because he was getting a little spanking. She'd thought it even more hilarious when his underpants had been removed, revealing his meager genitalia to everyone! She'd thought it was even funnier when he'd had to go again later, and had been forced to pee in a jar in front of them, like a little boy on a car trip who couldn't hold it. She'd heard tales from other girls of their brothers having to do that on long trips, the helpful sisters holding such vessels for them, emphasizing how immature and babyish boys were with their little things that had to pee all the time.

She'd thought Chad's pee urgency and the humiliation of having to go in front of everyone was hilarious. She had found the sight of Chad grasping his turgid little tool desperately to keep from peeing in front of them one of the funniest images she'd ever seen. But it didn't seem so funny now, contemplating what she was going to do about her own pee needs. If they went ahead with paddling her without allowing her to go, she was certainly pee herself, and the horse, and the floor, and the humiliation would be unbearable. But if she asked permission to go, Mrs. Rose might very well make her do it in front of everyone, just as she had Chad. It wouldn't even be that hard for Mrs. Rose to arrange. She wouldn't even have to squat, not really. Girls could pee standing up. She knew, because she could. Most girls didn't know that as they hadn't tried it. But she could, she knew it perfectly well. All you had to do was pinch the bottom of your labia shut just below your pee hole, and you could use that pinch of skin to aim the stream outward just as boys did. Heck, she had as much flesh to aim with when she did that as Microdick and the Martinez brat did!

But would Mrs. Rose know she could do that, and even if she did, would she want her to? She might think that having Emily squat over a bucket in front of everyone was a better lesson. Or she might deny her the chance entirely, and simply tell her to hold it as she had Chad that first time.

She tried to push that thought down. Thinking about peeing just made her want to need to pee even more! But the other things that popped into her mind were no better. She found herself fast forwarding to after her upcoming paddling. After that disgusting shit-pig Martinez was done with her, and her butt would be throbbing with an intensity she couldn't even bear to contemplate, that wasn't to be the end of it. No, Mrs. Rose had promised that she would be switched in the worst place she could imagine! She was supposed to get a genital switching! Stupid vampire Farlow, with his ridiculous huge dick and those balls that looked like grapefruits was supposed to switch her all over her most private areas! She shuddered involuntarily, thinking about the switch coming down on her delicate labia, or perhaps striking the delicate pussy tissue between the labia, or striking her oversized clitoris or her big and sensitive anus. She thought about the switching of Jimmy Chen's butt – the welt lines rising from where the switch struck, Jimmy, no crybaby, squalling like he was being burned at the stake, bawling louder with each stroke. She tried to picture the switch hitting her now hairless labia, welts appearing crisscrossing the tissue. How would she stand it?

Well, she wouldn't have a choice but to stand it, would she? There wouldn't be anyway to escape it – they'd do it to her, anyway. She wondered if Chad had felt like this, standing against the blackboard with a red butt on display from being spanked, knowing that after lunch he was going to be paddled on his already burning skin, and the paddling was going to much worse than the spanking had been. Every cell in your body is screaming, "Escape! ESCAPE!" and yet you can't escape, and it's going to happen anyway.

Prisoners waiting to go to the electric chair must feel this way, she thought. You keep telling yourself you can't do it, you can't stand it, and then you realize that you don't have a choice, they'll do it to you anyway.

But what about after that? Then, she realized, it still wouldn't be over. Mrs. Rose had said that she was being sent to some sort of reformatory, some sort of farm run by the slime ball in the white suit! Probably a jail for smart mouthed little bitches and girls who thought they were tough. Probably a lot of praying and kissing up to nuns with hairy upper lips, and being implored to be good if you wanted dessert. Making you hold out your hand to get slapped with a ruler if you looked at them cross-eyed. She could handle that. Mr. White Suit probably slouched around pretending to be high and mighty, while getting his jollies watching the girls in their bras and underwear. Hell, maybe he watched them in the shower, too. But so what? It couldn't be as bad as having the piggy boys in her class look at her, and all these other fart-brained, microdicked, pea-balled even younger and more immature boys who were feeling her up now. And there'd be no boys around the girls there, not in some religious nut's place. They always segregated the sexes in the places run by religious nuts! And that would be fine by her! Girls she could handle. Heck, she was one of the leaders of the girls in school. At least she had been, until stupid Chad Henson with his stupid microdick had ruined it for her. And stupid Piggy, and that stupid fat kid, and the vampire kid. Curses on all of them, and every other being born with a dick! She could put up with anything if she never again had to look at one of those stupid, dangly dicked, stinky-butted, snot-nosed, saggy-sacked little pigs!

Jimmy had turned his attention back to Chad. "You've gotta tell me what it felt like!" He was saying. "Having your dick inside her? Was it all hot and wet and tight? All squishy? Did it feel better than jerking off? 'Cause that'd be awesome! I mean, it was your first time wasn't it? The first time you had your dick inside someone, I mean! Everyone knows you had that little kid's dick inside you, but this was your first time sticking someone else, wasn't it? Feels better to turn the tables, doesn't it? "

"Shut up," Chad said sullenly. "I don't wanna talk about it."

"What do you mean, you don't want to talk about it?" Jimmy retorted. His attention suddenly shifted to the line of boys. "Hey, little dude," he said to the kid still stroking the opening to Emily's cunt. "I already said your time's up. You don't want me to tell your teacher, do you?"

The kid scurried off, his hands replaced immediately by another set of small hands attached to another kid with a tent in his trousers. Jimmy turned back to Chad, who was frowning. Jimmy's remark about him being invaded had hit a nerve. He didn't like to think about having his own anus invaded. Of course he had been invaded multiple times while being punished, by the peg chair, by his brother's fingers, by Mrs. Rose's set of larger and larger dildos, and of course, as alluded to by Jimmy just now, by the hard, insistent penis of the little boy who he had given a concussion. And the fact that the latter had happened in front of his class was still sore spot for Chad, notwithstanding the sore spot in his butt that had been result of the episode. And talking about are reminded him too much of what Tommy had done to Gabriel, and all the consequences of that. He still couldn't get the picture out of his mind of all that red blood oozing from Gabriel's butt hole. He realized, suddenly, that Jimmy was looking a bit rebuffed. "Sorry," he said. "I just don't remember much of it, it all happened too fast. I couldn't breathe," he added by way of explanation.

"Great," Jimmy said. "My best friend loses his virginity to the class slut, and he can't remember it."

Emily fought to keep from reacting. Despite her studied indifference on the outside, she seethed inside. Class slut? She was anything but a slut! She didn't want anything to do with boys, not like that flashy Lindsay Kirk, who probably was begging that Turpin animal to pound her pussy silly every day after school. Or stupid Cynthia, with her cow eyes for Microdick. Come on, Chad! Let me suck your little knob! You can cum in my mouth, and I'll swallow it! Then you can stick it in my cunt and my butt hole if you want! That's what her look said, and only stupid Chad was so dumb he couldn't see it! No, she was pure, untouched by boys and determined to stay untouched by boys. The sensation of greedy little hands on her ass made her mentally revise that. Never touched by boys by choice, that's what she was. They might force themselves on her, but she'd never let one touch her voluntarily.

The boy's handling her ass and cunt kept changing regularly. Their lack of imagination almost made her laugh – they all did the same thing. First, they rubbed her sore ass, at the onset tentatively, then more roughly (making it tough to keep from crying out each time, but she wouldn't give them the satisfaction). Then they'd tire of that and poke at her butt hole with a finger, trace around the orifice gently, then more roughly. Then they moved on to her pussy, probing the soft tissue that abutted her anus, pressing in, letting a finger slip daringly inward, sometimes pushing in up to the second knuckle if Jimmy wasn't watching too closely. And sometimes that hurt a bit, stretching her tight hole, but she fought the urge to tense, to clench her butt in a futile effort to keep them out. She wouldn't react, she wouldn't give them the satisfaction. Not even when the brave ones returned to her butt hole, slipped finger in there up to the first or second knuckle. She was tender there, and getting more tender with each invastion. And she was thoroughly tired of Jimmy cheerfully reminding the departing boys, "Wash your hands, guys, – you know what comes out of there!" If should could, she'd sit him on the ground with his balls exposed, and cheerfully plant her heel onto them and grind them into the floor. She'd pulp them and laugh while he writhed in agony and peed blood. And then she'd do the same to Chad, and the vampire, and the pig.

Well, maybe not the pig. His probably wouldn't stick out enough for her to grind them into the floor. She'd have to settle for kicking him with a nice pointy shoe, maybe twice, once for each of the little marble-sized things!

Adrift in his thoughts, Chad was surprised, suddenly, to see Alan Delvecchio squatting beside his chair, leaning his head in. "She did it," he said quietly into Chad's ear.

"Who did what?" Chad asked, his mind still focused on blood dripping from torn anuses, S. F.'s and Gabriel's injuries hopscotching in his mind, one disturbing image replacing the other in cycles.

"You know. Lindsay," Alan said. "She said to wait a minute, then follow her to the equipment room under the bleachers. So I waited, and when no one was looking I ducked in there. It's really dark and dusty in there, but they've got mats and stuff on the floor. And she told me to stand there and hold still, and then she got right there on her knees and did it."

"Did what?" Chad said, not following this story at all.

"You know," Alan said impatiently. "What you said she'd do. You know – with my – you know. She said Joey wanted her to, and she always does what Joey wants." Actually, Alan was editing here – he wasn't sure he'd heard the rest of what she'd said correctly – she couldn't have said, "Or he'll spank me," could she? Because she was smiling when she said it, and you don't smile about the threat of being spanked, Alan knew that from personal experience. He hadn't been spanked since his marathon session with Chad for getting himself off playing with Chad's dick and rubbing himself against Chad without his permission, but his butt had hurt for almost a week, and he still remembered how it had felt having Chad spank him that last round, on an already sore and tortured butt. Why anyone would welcome such a treatment was beyond him.

Although reflecting on it, the spanking had been a good thing in one respect. It had made Chad forgive him – he was pretty sure Chad was his friend now, and it appeared that he had got Jimmy Chen in the bargain. And he felt better about his attractions to boys, now. He still found Chad enticing, and he was more than a little attracted to him for some reason, but his friendship meant more, and he'd been able to convince himself Chad was off limits. Well, sometimes. But there were times, like now…

Chad was still looking puzzled, so he dropped that train of thought. "She sucked me," he whispered. 'You know, down there! She said, 'hold still,' and she unbuttoned my pants and unzipped them herself, and pulled them down. Then she kinda cupped my boy stuff, and then she pulled the underpants down too and sucked me right into her. I thought you were making fun of me when you said she wanted to do it, but she did!"

"Why would I want to make fun of you?" Chad asked, still a step behind the whole conversation.

"'Cause I'm—you know. Not that into girls." Alan said. "Lots of guys have kinda been making fun of me lately. Like they point to a girl and say to me, 'nice ass, huh, Delvecchio,' but then they say, 'oh, right – you wouldn't know.' Stuff like that. So I thought you might be making fun of me too."

Chad gave Alan a blank stare. He really doesn't care, Alan thought to himself. It never occurred to him to make fun of me. Emotion overflowed again, like it did from time to time. Like it had in the nurse's room, when Chad had been naked and he'd handled Chad himself and couldn't control it. He ached to hug Chad, feel his small, soft body against his own, stretch out on him full length, both of the naked, and feel the boy's hard penis against his own as they ground their groins together, and he cupped the other boy's butt and felt the boyish strength there. He pushed the thought away. Couldn't think like that. He's not that way. It wouldn't happen like that. It would never be like it was playing out in Alan's head. It could never be that way.

Oh, Chad wouldn't be mean, or mad. No, he wasn't like that. He'd be sad. He'd be sad, and regretful, but the net result would be the same – he wasn't that way, and hands off, please. "I did what you said," Alan said to Chad to fill the space in his mind. "I thought about other stuff – stuff I like." No, that was a bad thing to say, too. Because he'd thought about Chad, that's what he'd thought about. He'd pictured Chad, naked and on his knees, sucking him willingly as his own perfect little penis jutted merrily in the air, waiting its turn in Alan's mouth, or Alan's firm grip. He'd fantasized sucking Chad's penis repeatedly since their forced mutual sucking session in front of Chad's brother and sister and his cousins, relived the feel of that lively little organ in his mouth, the way he could take it in all the way, the way it pulsed in front of his face when Chad was forced to pull out each time he came. He wished they'd have let him finish Chad off each time, but he could imagine it – he'd sucked other boys to climax, after all, so he knew the feel of the hard rod pulsing as the boy panted, or grunted, or squealed his pleasure. And he'd fantasized Chad sucking him back, willingly, not because he was being forced, and looking up at him lovingly after swallowing his seed. Chad produced seed of his own, now – everyone knew that after his public punishments. Apparently he'd squirted his stuff several times when hooked to The Stimulator. So he and Chad could exchange seed, and it would be like they were linked that way, more intimately than blood brothers.

But that wasn't to be, and that was that. He'd find someone else who did like doing things with other boys. He'd have to, or he'd go crazy. He thought he'd found a kindred spirit that weekend, when little Jesse had come over. Jesse had been willing and even eager at first, shucking his clothes without embarrassment when they'd slipped off to Alan's room and Alan had suggested preparing for bed. (He wasn't sure about the look his mother had given him as she'd bid them good night – it had seemed to be too knowing, somehow. But maybe that was his imagination). The little guy's body was softer than Chad's, but his dick had been just as big or bigger when Alan had sneaked a peek at the other boy and caught him looking more frankly at Alan's own naked body. Jesse had laughed, but being caught looking had made Alan shy, and he'd abandoned his daring thought of slipping into bed nude and slipped his underpants on instead. Jesse hadn't, though – he'd just climbed into the bed butt naked and stretched out without pulling the sheet over himself or anything, and lain there on his back like he was inviting Alan to do something, his little penis half hard and pointing up at a jaunty angle.

Alan had crawled in beside him wearing his briefs and stretched out, his heart pounding, and Jesse had startled him when he'd suddenly said, "I sleep like this all the time when I'm too hot. It's kind of comfy. You can, too – I don't mind." There was a pause. "Unless someone might come in. You said you were an only child, right? Your mom doesn't come in after you go to bed, does she?" he asked, a tiny note of worry in his voice.

"Never," Alan said. "She says boys need their privacy."

"Okay, then," Jesse said, relaxing beside him and still staring at the ceiling. "Then we're okay."

Alan had not responded at first, then, in sudden decision, hand raised his butt off the bed and slipped his undies down, guiding them over his bare legs and dropping them over the side of the bed. Like Jesse, he noticed immediately that he was half hard, but on his long, thin penis it was more noticeable, because it immediately flopped backward until it was pointing at his head. He glanced at Jesse to see if he'd say anything, but Jesse was looking at the ceiling. "Want me to turn out the light?" he asked Jesse.

"Sure," Jesse said to the ceiling. "But we don't have to go to sleep. We can talk about stuff."

Alan reached for his remote fan controller and turned off the light. He loved that thing – his mother had put a ceiling fan in his room for hot summer days, and it had a remote that controlled both the fan and the light. Alan kept it on the bedstand.

"Hey, cool!" Jesse said. "I gotta get one of those! I have to walk across the room to turn out the light."

"Yeah, it's pretty neat," Alan said. There was an embarrassed silence.

"You ever think about stuff?" Jesse asked.

"I guess," Alan said. "Like what?"

"Like people you like. And life. And what you're gonna be," Jesse said.

"Sometimes," Alan said. "I think lots of kids do that."

"Oh," Jesse said. "I suppose you're right. It's something I wonder about. You know, what other people are thinking. I wish we could read minds, sometimes, so we could tell what other people were thinking. You know, like if you like someone and you wonder if they like you or not. Or you have a fight with someone and you wonder if they're really mad."

"But if you could read their minds, couldn't they read yours?" Alan countered. He had an urge to reach down and give his dick a comforting squeeze, as he often did when lying in bed, but fought it. "I wouldn't want people to know what I'm thinking a lot of the time. Like when our teacher, Mrs. Rose, asks me a stupid question. Like, we had this homework a month ago where we were supposed to send letters to our Senators. And I was sick, so I brought mine a day late. And she's like, 'I sent those out already. What am I supposed to do with this?' And I thought to myself, 'how about you shove it up your fat ass!'"

Jesse had giggled, a tinkling sound that had made Alan's heart jump and the bed vibrate under him. He turned on his side facing Alan, his penis now at full jut in the dim light, and propped his head on an elbow. With his other hand, he touched Alan's hair next to his face. "I like the color of your hair," he said suddenly. "It's so much darker than mine. Mine's the color of dirt."

"Your hair looks fine," Alan said. "You look like one of the Beatles in the old days. My mom has all their albums, and old concert posters and stuff."

The two boys had stopped talking a moment then, each with a hand on strands of the other's hair, then Jesse had let go and turned onto his front, and moment later Alan had done the same, two pairs of white orbs jutting toward the ceiling in the dark room, smooth backs curving to bony shoulders above.

"Want me to rub your back?" Jesse had said after awhile. "My mom taught me how to do it. I'm pretty good at it."

Alan's heart pulsed faster at the thought of the smaller boy touching him. "Okay," he said. Jesse sat up on his haunches and slid over by the small of Alan's back, putting pudgy hands on Alan's shoulders. He gently massaged there, his touch feeling surprisingly good, and Alan relaxed and began enjoying it. Gradually, Jesse's hands had moved down his back until they were just above Alan's buttocks, where he lingered for some time, kneading and stroking, sometimes moving all the way up to Alan's shoulders and then back again. Each time he did, his hands went farther, until he had clearly crossed a border and was no longer massaging Alan's back, but was clearly working the muscular upper part of Alan's buttocks. Alan tried to calm his breathing and said nothing, just silently urging the boy to keep moving down. Unbelievably, Jesse had done just that, until he was kneading the fleshy cheeks of Alan's butt, at first gently, then with enough strength to separate Alan's buns. It struck Alan, suddenly, that there was enough light in the room that the smaller boy could probably see his butt hole when he did that, but after a moment's anxiety wondering if he was dirty back there or something, he realized that he'd showered before going to the mall and he was probably fine. Besides, his slender dick had grown so hard by now that he didn't want Jesse to stop, but kept mentally urging him downward.

It seemed like it took forever to Alan, but eventually, Jesse had moved down of his buttocks to his inner thighs, and then he was gently stroking the skin between Alan's legs between butthole and swelling balls squished into the bed. When Jesse seemed hesitant upon letting his fingers slide there, Alan had shifted, spreading his legs wider and angling his butt up so that Jesse could reach in farther, all the way to his sack. Jesse's movements became more sure, then, and he pressed on the skin between Alan's legs with his fingers, working the well-defined ridge of skin that joined Alan there, pressing in hard enough he certainly could feel Alan's hard penis root under the skin.

"Turn over," Jesse had whispered hoarsely, and Alan had, eagerly, his hard cock waving in the air as he settled on his back. Jesse had slowly traced Alan's bulging sack, drawn up tight to his body in his excitement, and then had circled the base of his penis without touching it, then, to Alan's amazement, he'd leaned over and taken Alan's penis head into his mouth without preamble, tonguing him in a way that made Alan stiffen and his toes curl. He'd coupled that with stroking Alan's long shaft with his hand, and Alan had cum in maybe 10 seconds, shuddering and shaking, and the boy, again to his surprise, had sucked in all of his output and then slurped himself off of Alan's now oversensitive organ, settling on his back without speaking. Alan had lain there, overcome with the wonder of it all, until conscience drove him to sit up and lean over the kid's body and study his little jutting penis in the dark. Shutting his eyes, he'd sucked the kid in before he lost his nerve, idly fingering his own long prick in the process and making the moist organ hard despite his climax just minutes before. The younger boy had seemed happy and eager to start with, lacing his fingers in Alan's hair and urging him to take all of the little penis in his mouth. Jesse had seemed to be building up to cum, too – butt contractions were coming closer together, and he was pushing Alan's head into himself more firmly. And then he'd gone soft – gradually but progressively softer and softer until his organ was just a squishy lump and not the throbbing hardness it had been. And then the kid had started crying. It hadn't seemed like crying at first – just gasping and a bit of shaking that might have been passion except for the soft penis in Alan's mouth, but it finally dawned on Alan that the boy was deeply distressed. Alan had thought at first that the kid was mad at him, or feeling sudden guilt at what they'd been doing, and he'd pulled away and sat back, confused. But then the kid had sobbed out that he was sorry, that it wasn't Alan's fault, and that he just had a thing for Chad's brother and they'd had some sort of fight, and he'd come over because of that fight, and now he was sorry he had, because although Alan was nice, he wasn't Tommy.

And that had been that. The kid had been really sorry, but he hadn't gotten hard again, even after he'd stopped crying and Alan had hugged him for awhile and then gently tried to tease his cock back awake. He'd even wiped his tears and told Alan to lie back, and then he'd rubbed Alan's madly throbbing dick until he'd cum, apparently not at all squeamish about getting another guy's cum on him. He'd wiped the mess off himself matter of factly, slipped into Alan's attached bathroom to wash his hands, and settled back in bed with Alan again. Alan got up to pee almost immediately, a need he always developed after jerking off, or, in this case, being jerked off by another boy. After a bit, Jesse had whispered, "I'm sorry. You're a nice guy, but I can't. It's my fault." And he'd refused to let Alan comfort him, just rolled into a ball with his back turned. And Alan, having to accept that the excitement was over for the evening, had been left to ponder the unfairness of it all. The boy he loved, Chad Henson, would probably never love him. And the first boy he'd ever met who'd readily have sex with him, would even take the initiative, had just indicated that he considered coming over a mistake, because he loved someone else. Well, he guessed that was fair, because he didn't love Jesse, either. But that didn't stop him from wanting Jesse's body, and wondering if he could be persuaded to change his mind in the morning.

But he hadn't, although he'd shared Alan's shower with him and he'd let Alan soap him up, even down there. But he'd pushed Alan away when his dick had gotten hard, and seemed much more embarrassed than the night before, and Alan had been forced to accept his choice.

No question, the world was a darned messed up place.

"Anyway, I managed to finish, so she's satisfied, I guess," Alan said.

"I guess," Alan said. He turned and walked away. Lindsay was beautiful, he guessed. Every boy in his class would probably have given his left nut to have been in Alan's place a few minutes ago. Heck, she'd even swallowed, and her tongue was tantalizing and energetic, and her technique more practiced than Jesse's had been, if not as eager. Yet, when he thought about it, it was Chad he'd pictured on his knees on the mats in the equipment room, not Lindsay, and that was what he really wanted. The pain of it at that moment, was almost more than he thought he could stand.

Joey Turpin came up, two of his eighth grade posse in tow. "Chad, mi compadre! Gimme five!" he said, holding a hand up. Chad, startled, slapped Joey's hand weakly. Joey turned towards his companions, lowering his voice a notch as he did. "This is the little dude who nailed the bitch," he said. "Right on the classroom floor." Chad noticed although Joey spoke nonchalantly, he'd scanned the room first to make sure no listening teachers or kids likely to tell on him were nearby.

"Him?" one of the older boys behind Joey said. "The dude you racked in the bathroom? Come on, Joey! He's got a dick like a gerbil!" The boy leaned forward. "No, my mistake," he said, eyeing Chad's penis. The damage caused by Emily's tight grip on his organ had made it fatten out so that he looked like he had a round ball attached to his crotch. "More like a ping-pong ball," the boy added.

"Small but mighty, that's my buddy Chad," Joey said cheerfully. "What he lacks in size he makes up for in enthusiasm. Even finished the deed before she could escape. He's one of those 30 second little dudes – you gotta admire that."

Chad didn't point out that he'd been the one trying to escape at the time. He let himself be high fived by the other two boys. "So how was she, dude?" one of them commented, also quietly enough that only the group near Chad could hear. "Was she a good fuck, or a Sandpaper Sally?"

"A what?" Chad asked.

"A Sandpaper Sally," the boy said. He was tallish but thin, with black hair, a face full of pimples, and a few scraggly mustache and chin hairs he was apparently cultivating. "You know the old joke – everyone knows it."

The kid settled back so he could hold both their gazes. "Well, there's this dude who wants a fuck at the whorehouse, but he doesn't have any money," the kid began, speaking just loudly enough for Chad, Jimmy, S. F., Randy, and Emily to hear, but not the boy currently fingering Emily's open snatch. "So he asks the madam if she can arrange something, and he says he can fuck Sandpaper Sally, because she's free. So he goes in all eager, and jumps on her and tries to stick his dick in her, but she's all rough inside her cunt like sandpaper, and it scrapes his dick so hard he can't even keep it up. So he pulls out, and she says, 'Just a minute,' and goes into the bathroom. She comes out in a minute and says, 'now try it,' and he starts putting it to her, but this time he slides right in, smooth as butter. So he bangs away at her, havin' a great time, and finally has the best cum of his life. And when he finishes, he says, 'that was great, but what did you do that made it stop being so scratchy.' And she says, 'I just picked the scabs and let the pus run!"

The boy laughed heartily at his own joke, and Jimmy let loose a high-pitched giggle. Randy looked puzzled, and S. F. looked like he was going to be sick. Chad had a bad moment himself while he fought to make the image the boy had conjured up go away, then he managed a somewhat sickly smile. "That's funny," he said weakly. If by funny you mean sick and disgusting, he thought to himself. God, a girl so diseased inside her girl place that she had scabs, scabs that oozed pus? Were there real girls like that? Maybe. Until today he might have been easily convinced Emily was like that inside, all scabby and puss-filled. But she hadn't been, apparently, from what he could remember of being engulfed by her. Not that he remembered much except suffocation and an explosive orgasm.

"So was she?" the older boy asked. "A good fuck?"

"It was okay, I guess," Chad said.

"Not a ringing endorsement," the boy's companion said. He was stockier, with almost red hair. "Still, I might throw her a mercy fuck some day just so she can feel a real man inside her. That is, if I get desperate enough. Like maybe if she's the last girl on earth. And if we run out of sheep." He laughed at his own joke.

Joey was giving Emily's hindquarters a good going-over visually. "You know what that thing of her reminds me of ?" he suddenly said to the boys. "That big clit of hers? I knew it looked familiar the minute I saw it. It reminds me of that girl who used to be a wrestler – Chyna, they called her then. Her real name's Joanie Laurer, I think. Lot of porn pictures of her on the net. Got muscles like a guy, but tits, too. She's got a clit like this one has – kind of sticking out like a toddler dick. Everyone says taking steroids made it do that. You know, the stuff people take to grow big muscles." He prodded Emily's side, poking one of her immature tits. "She's not ugly like this pig, though. How you kept it up for her 'til you were done I don't get. I guess you're just a horny little bastard"

The trio moved off. Chad risked a glance at his exposed dick, noting that the joke about Sandpaper Sally had shriveled him even more than normal. He shrugged mentally. What difference did it make, anyway? He was hard, he was soft, he was respectably sized and capable of sticking it into a girl, and then he was so small it disappeared. But what did it matter? He'd fucked a girl, actually had his dick inside her. Not just any girl, he corrected himself. He'd had his dick inside Emily Gitt's girl place, and even if it had been her idea, he was getting all the accolades for it. People were treating him like he'd conquered her by being inside her, and he guessed, in a way, that he had. And Joey had called him a "horny little bastard!" That was kind of gratifying, really. He rather liked being a horny little bastard. Striding through the halls naked, his dick pointing the way, all the girls acknowledging his virility. Chad looked at Emily, glaring into space, not responding to the 5th grade boy who was squeezing her butt as hard as he could at the moment, nor to the one exploring her cunt with his finger. He realized, suddenly, that her nonchalance was a matter of tight control – she had to be able to feel that – it had to hurt badly to have her sensitive, blistered and bruised butt handled so roughly – he know how it felt to have hands pinching a recently spanked bottom. She must be livid to be able to exert such control.

On impulse he leaned over. "It's killing you, isn't it?" he asked. "It all blew up in your face. You thought you had us boys so beaten down we'd never get up again, and now it's you who's beaten down. You'll never be able to get us again after this. You'll be the girl who got caught and had to get naked and get spanked. The only girl who ever did! They won't even remember us boys getting spanked or being naked, they'll remember the day you got it forever."

"Yeah, the day Git got it!" Jimmy chimed in. Chad jumped, not realizing Jimmy had leaned in behind him and was right next to his ear."

S. F. had moved closer and was listening to Chad's remarks, too. "My mom once told me about some character from an old cartoon or something whose name was Boner."

"Boner?" Jimmy said, falling into giggles again. "His name was Boner? As in having a woody?"

S. F. froze and stared into space for a minute. "Oh. I never thought of it that way, before," he said. "I guess you could look at it that way. But anyway, she said that this guy was always doing stupid stuff, so whenever someone did something stupid, they called it 'pulling a Boner.'"

"I know some girls I'd like to have pull a boner – mine," Jimmy said.

"I'm trying to make a point here," S. F. said with an impatience surprising Chad, who was used to the more tentative boy S. F. had been before this weekend. Jimmy tried to control his giggles. "The point is, that everything stupid was called, 'pulling a Boner' after that. I bet, from now on, if a girl does something underhanded and sneaky, people say she's 'pulling a Gitt.'"

"I'll say it," Jimmy said. "I'll say it to everyone until they start saying it, too." He leaned over Emily's unresponsive face. "Whatcha say, Bitchy? I'll put your name on everyone's lips. Hey, Artha cheated on a test – she really pulled a Git this time! Rosa got caught with her boyfriend with her panties down, man did she pull a Git!"

Emily's face moved suddenly. She puckered her lips and spat in Jimmy's face. Jimmy was quick, though, and jerked back so that her output missed him, landing on the floor between them except for the bit that trickled down the side of her face. Her glare at Jimmy could have burned holes through lead walls. "Didn't like that one, did you Bitchy?" Jimmy reposted after regaining his poise lost from the hasty retreat. "Hope you enjoyed my boy Chad fucking you! You won't be wanting to do much fucking after my boy S. F. switches your naked cunt! Man, that's gonna hurt – lots worse that being switched on the butt! You did that to me, remember? But now it's your turn, and you're going to get it lots worse than me. And I'm going to be laughing the whole time while you squeal."

Emily tried to spit at Jimmy again, but Jimmy was ready, this time, and easily moved out of range. Mrs. Rose, across the room, saw what she did and hustled over to the platform. A hushed silence fell over the boys as she approached, and Emily turned her malicious glare onto the teacher. Mrs. Rose glared back, and her glare easily trumped Emily's, who broke the gaze first. "Mr. Gitt, you obviously need something to keep your drool from escaping. Perhaps an article of cloth might serve that purpose." She gazed at the four boys, her eyes settling on Jimmy. "You, Mr. Chen," she said briskly, pointing to his bright blue boxers. "Remove your underpants and give them to me!"

Jimmy started to protest, then noticed the sudden expression of real, unconcealed horror on Emily's face. "Sure, Mrs. Rose," he said nonchalantly. Without any hesitation, he pulled his underpants down right there in the lunchroom and worked them over feet, handing them to Mrs. Rose, who took them by the waistband, ignoring his twisted, half hard penis flopping in front of him, the word "PENIS" still emblazed on it in bold lettering. "I wore them yesterday, anyway, so they'd have to go in the wash tonight. Probably pretty dirty by now. I shouldn't have worn them today, really." He smiled evilly at Emily, who was looking sicker by the minute. Chad, watching, felt a rush of pleasure at her reaction. Mrs. Rose folded the cloth neatly and leaned over Emily. "Open your mouth, Mr. Gitt," she ordered. Emily clamped her jaw as tightly as she could, glaring. Mrs. Rose waited a moment. "I said open your mouth, you disobedient, foul-minded, dirty, disgusting, out of control brat!" Emily intensified her glare. Mrs. Rose reached in a pocket and pulled out the Taser. Emily's eyes widened. Mrs. Rose pushed the ominous looking tube into Chad's hands. "Put the electrodes of the tip somewhere delicate and pull the trigger," she said evenly. "Hold it down until I have the gag in."

Chad let his fingers close around the hard plastic and got up, walking to Emily's back side, obviously the location of her most delicate places. Pushing a little boy aside who was pawing Emily's rump, he considered his target. The butt hole? The opening to her cunt? He finally settled on placing one electrode against the bottom edge of her butt hole, so the other was right against the bottom of her slit. He pushed in firmly, feeling Emily tense under him. "NOOOOOOOO!" she wailed, just before he pulled the trigger, the last of the syllable becoming a screech as the instrument hummed in his hand. Emily's butt contracted violently as it tried to close, actually gripping the instrument in her agony. Mrs. Rose deftly crammed the blue cloth into Emily's open mouth, and Chad released the trigger, watching the boyish butt in front of him ripple and twitch as the current cut off. Tear were pouring down Emily's face and snot bubbling out of her nose, and a small bit of blue cloth emerged from her stuffed mouth and bulging cheeks. Mrs. Rose looked at her work with satisfaction, taking the Taser back from Chad. "Nice work, Mr. Henson," she said. "Now you boys need to bring Mr. Gitt back to the classroom where he can be an example to us all as he gets his paddling."

She walked away regally. Jimmy leaned over Emily's tear-drenched face. "I've been farting into those since yesterday," he said. "And I might have left you a skid mark or too. Yummy, huh?" Emily's face took on a rather green appearance, and Jimmy straightened up, chuckling. "Eat my shit, Gitt!" he giggled.