Tommy's Attitude Adjustment Chapter 81
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 81: Working on the Chain Gang

Mrs. Hendricks guided them to the office and moved the books from their sling to a waiting empty box. Tommy almost sighed with relief as the strain went off his penis for the moment. The phone in her inner office buzzed. "Now you two wait right here," she said briskly. "I just need to get that, then we'll see about changing your attachments."

She slipped into her office. "Mrs. Henricks," she said briskly. "Just a moment." Her heels clacked on the floor, and she shut the door against them firmly, so that all they could hear was a low murmur of voice. Wayne leaned over to Tommy's ear. "We gotta tell her," he said. "I can't have that thing on my balls! It'll pull them off! Or squeeze them to a pulp! We got to tell her what Aiesha did."

Wayne considered this. "I can't back you up," he said. "She's got pictures of me! Playing with my – doing stuff. She'll put them on the Internet and give the address to the whole school!"

"It probably wouldn't work, anyway," Tommy said. "The teachers would just say we were both lying. Man, I don't want to know what they'd do to a boy who took his clothes off and tried to do sex stuff with the girls. Probably beat his balls, in front of the whole school."

Wayne considered this. They could hear Mrs. Hendricks still murmuring into the phone behind the closed door. "What if I didn't back you up?" he finally said, almost to himself. "What if I back them up? What if I said that you were in the girls' bathroom naked, that you told me you were going to do it, and that Aiesha and her gang caught you like they said. They wouldn't be mad at the girls, then, and Aiesha wouldn't be mad at me, and neither would Mrs. Hendricks, because I'd have told her what she wanted to know. Everybody wins, and I don't get my balls pulled off by that stupid rubber thing."

Tommy glared at him. "But what about me?" he said in outrage. "They'd kill me."

"Any how is that my problem?" Wayne asked innocently. "The way I see it, is I tell Mrs. Hendricks, and I'm back in my pants, sitting at my desk watching you."

"Maybe not," Tommy said. "Maybe Aiesha will turn on you, too. Maybe I'll say you helped me, and she'll agree so she can see you get it, too. Maybe she'll put the pictures of you pulling your dork on the Internet anyway, just for kicks."

"No she won't," Wayne said. "She was just bluffing. She really likes me. And she likes my thing. She gives me hand jobs sometimes, when I'm...sometimes." Wayne had been about to say, "When I'm good," but realized at the last minute how juvenile that made him sound. Because he did feel juvenile around Aiesha – she was much bigger than him, and she took charge of him just like his Grandmother did. She'd come over to watch TV with him, and then she'd just say, "Come sit here," pointing to her lap. Then she'd arrange his legs on either side of hers, cradle his smaller body against her side, and pop his pants button, pull his zipper, and her hand was in his underpants, fishing his thing out through his boxer fly and teasing it to life. He never even considered disobeying, even though she liked to tease him, bringing him close to orgasm again and again, stopping dead and squeezing him hard each time he was ready to crest, until at last even she couldn't stop him and he'd cum with mind-blowing ecstasy. And then she'd just push him off her and nod at his open pants, and he'd rearrange himself, and she'd stare coolly at the TV.

"Yeah, well maybe she'll turn on you this time – do you really want your balls on the line with mine?" Tommy retorted.

"Looks to me like we're both going to have our balls on the line, anyway. A line attached to some very heavy books. You know how that felt on our things – I don't want to know how it feels on my balls. I'm gonna chance it. I'm gonna tell her," Wayne said decisively.

Tommy opened his mouth, then closed it. He almost said, "You wouldn't dare," but of course Wayne would dare. Boys would dare almost anything when their nuts were in a vise, a picture entirely too much like what they were facing to be comfortable.

"Oooooh, I'm scared," Wayne said in an odd, nasal voice. It sounded like a line from some old movie, and knowing him, it probably was. "Your brother's my size. In fact, I'm pretty sure all his boy stuff is smaller than mine. And he wouldn't dare do anything to me anyway– look what happened to him last time," Wayne added. "Besides, Aiesha will protect me."

"Aiesha can't be with you all the time," Tommy said. "I've got friends. And my brother's got friends, too. You tell, and they'll all be out to get you. One of his friends is, like, 180 lbs! They'll get you eventually. You have to go to the boys' bathroom sometime, and Aiesha sure as hell isn't going to protect you there." He glared at Wayne. "So you don't tell, got it? We keep quiet, and we take our punishments, and we move their stupid books with our ball sacks. If you want to still have a ball sack in the future."

He tensed, and Wayne tensed in return, each boy trying to overbalance the other, the two of them testing their quite even physical abilities against each other, but handicapped by the fact their arms were still tied together.

"I'll take my chances," Wayne panted as they jockeyed for position, circling each other, pawing the ground with their feet for purchase. They were so intent they didn't hear the door open behind them, didn't notice Mrs. Hendricks until a searing stripe of pain crossed Wayne's bare butt, followed by a second stripe across Tommy's. Both boys reared back, arching their backs and clenching their buns as they rose identically on their toes with almost identical surprised gasps.

"Stop that this instant, you heathens," Mrs. Hendricks said. "Are you learning nothing from wearing the SCOOB?"

"Mrs. Hendricks, I want to tell you who..." Wayne began.

"Shut up, Wayne. I'm warning you, shut the hell up!" Tommy interrupted.

Mrs. Hendricks reared back, applying her rubber paddle to both bare hind ends again in succession, this time much harder. Both boys' remarks were chocked off in moaning gasps followed by anxious panting and considerable butt clenching. "Quiet," Mrs. Hendricks said. "Both of you."

She held the paddle at a threatening angle over Wayne's butt.

Wayne gulped. "I just wanted to say I'll tell you who took Tommy's clothes and why," he began. "It was..."

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP, WAYNE!" Tommy commanded.

The paddle came down sharply on both boys' bare butts once again, first Tommy's, then Wayne's in quick succession. The two let out little wails and stood shuddering on their toes, butts tightly clenched. The cords hanging from their penises jingled. "Enough!" Mrs. Hendricks ordered. "If you boys can't keep quiet, I shall have to gag you. I believe I have the underwear of both of you boys right in my office. Mr. Henson, I believe yours is slightly damp with your own fluids, but as they came out of you that shouldn't pose a health problem. Mr. Sakarov, yours weren't particularly damp as I remember, but I wouldn't want to wager on that. Would you?" She glared at the two of them. "Are you both going to be quiet, or do I get go get your underpants?"

Both boys squeezed their mouths shut tightly. "Good," Mrs. Hendricks said. "Oh, and Mr. Sakarov? I no longer care who else was involved in this little caper of yours. You had your chance to come clean and you passed it up. That boat has sailed. You weren't on it. So now you will serve the punishment for whoever it was. If you find that unfair, you can take it up with whoever you were protecting. Now come with me, boys. I believe that it would be best to share this lesson of yours with your class for maximum impact on your fellow males. So we're going to the classroom to install the scrotal purses. And I don't want any more fighting from you two – you're both this close to an assembly paddling!" She held out two fingers separated by a quarter of an inch for emphasis. "Now, you two have lots of books to carry yet today, so let's get back to the classroom. You might as well bring two books with you using the penile cuff as long as we're going that way."

So back down the hall they'd gone, walking sideways again, the sling filled with two more books and rocking between them, giving their penises twinges now and then when the rocking became too strong. Out into the courtyard, a cool fall wind chilling both boys' asses as they moved through it, and back into the warmer hall of the grade school, terminating in the shameful walk down the aisle between the desks to the front of their 6th grade classroom, Mrs. Hendricks carrying the two wicked looking inflatable scrotal purses with her, other kids reaching out and pinching their butt cheeks and trying to touch their balls as they passed. A short speech had followed, in which Mrs. Hendricks had informed the class that the boys had refused to quit fighting during their punishment in addition to their earlier decision to defy the school authorities by naming who was involved in some "bathroom hijinks" and thus were going to have to be given a considerably harsher punishment, one all the boys should give their closest attention.

Tommy, shuddering at the sight of the black pouches designed to squeeze their scrota firmly, glared at Wayne while she was talking. "You tried to sell me out," he hissed under his breath. "You'd have thrown me to the wolves."

"Every man for himself," Wayne hissed back. "Between saving your balls and mine, I take mine. Besides, it didn't work, so stop complaining."

"You're still an asshole," Tommy retorted.

"And you're a shit for brains," Wayne whispered back.

"Mrs. Johnson, they're calling each other bad names," one of the girls near them called out in a sing-song voice.

"I'm sure they are," Mrs. Johnson said mildly. "And they may have other bad names to call each other once they're secured in the punishment apparatus. Boys, if you'd come right to the center of the front so Mrs. Hendricks can set you up."

Removing the penile cuffs wasn't a trivial undertaking. First, Mrs. Hendricks removed the books and unsnapped the sling, then she lifted the cords that hung from the penile cuffs and wrapped them around the boy's joined arms to keep them out of the way. Searching in the waste basket, she found an empty wide mouthed tempura paint jar and inspected it. "This will serve the purpose," she said. "Now I just need a helper." Her eyes lit on Dakota. "You'll do," she said. "Come up here and take this." The boys were positioned with their sides to the classroom, Dakota standing on the blackboard side between them, so everyone could see without obstruction. Mrs. Hendricks crowded in beside Dakota and told her to hold the jar under Tommy's penis tip as the cuff was depressurized. Blood flow surged through Tommy's dick as soon as the pressure was released, creating a most painful tickling, burning sensation, but, to his immense relief, he didn't lose bladder control and have to endure the shame of peeing in front of the class. That relief was short lived for Tommy, though, as Mrs. Hendricks slid the cuff off and his bare penis was revealed to the class in all its orange-red glory, provoking much hooting laughter from the class. To top that off, it immediately began rising, as if the blood had been waiting to pour in and now was making up for lost time. In moments, his rod was fully hard, as hard as Tommy ever remembered it getting. It felt like his penile skins was straining to the bursting point, and his hear trate was visible in the pulsing tip, which was pointing straight at Wayne, all three inches of it. Tommy's orange-red balls were now fully visible to all as well, and although they were quite respectable for an 11-year-old, Tommy's face flushed as red as his dick and balls as he realized he was as shamefully, fully exposed as his brother had been during his punishments. His shame was compounded as a girl in front began suggesting to the rest of the class that it looked like Tommy had a hard-on for Wayne.

Then it was Wayne's turn, and all attention left Tommy. Because both Wayne's voluntary and involuntary urinary sphincters had relaxed long ago, he began dribbling pee out the tip of his constricted organ as soon as the pressure release was turned, and that dribble become a full pressure stream in moments, splashing against the bottom of the container and rebounding to splatter his balls and dick, a gushing stream that would have done any boy in a peeing contest proud. To add to Wayne's humiliation, the pee burned like fire as it was finally released, making him moan involuntarily and making it sound like he was getting off on peeing in front of the class. And then if that wasn't enough, once he'd finished and been given a quick shake by Dakota (something she did expertly – she had helped potty train Gabriel after all), he began erecting just as Tommy had, the head of his dick emerging from the sagging foreskin and growing until the tip emerged from the foreskin and it retreated almost back to the bulge of the glans. An uncomfortable tingling, burning sensation accompanied the erection, a burning that, although unpleasant, made his erection grow even harder. The girl in front, with the closest view of this whole operation, dropped her jaw in amazement as she stared at the transformation in this boy's parts – from a dangling finger with a pointed, wrinkled head, Wayne's uncovered penis, the end still damp from his uncontrolled urination, had become a slightly up curved pole with the foreskin retracted almost off the tip, the single eye giving the impression of a Cyclops child peering out of a hoodie. Staring down in horror at the powerful and unpleasant sensations he was receiving from his prized organ, Wayne couldn't help but notice that Tommy's dick was noticeably thicker than his as well as longer – it made his look lame by comparison, although not as bad as Tommy's brother's dick, or the almost non-existent tool that fat 7th grader had sported in the lunchroom. As a topper, a residual drip of pee broke loose from his penis head and dropped to the floor, prompting an unbidden "Eeewwww," from the girl in front and laughter from the rest of the class. The two penises, eyeing each other head to head, looked like duelers about to face off, bobbing and looking for a weakness.

Wayne tried to think of a way to make his dick go down, but nothing came to his feverish mind. Mrs. Hendricks, meanwhile, was putting the penile sleeves on a nearby desk. She turned back with one of the testicular purses in hand. "Who's going to be first to try it on?" she said brightly. "Mr. Sakarov, I believe. You have the smaller, more immature target and so might require more attention to inflation levels."

Wayne cringed at the reference to his "smaller, more immature target." He hadn't thought his balls were so small, not before now. He had bigger balls than his 8-year-old cousin – well, at least a little bigger. When Chad Henson had visited their class and he'd had his turns kicking the soccer ball at Chad's package, he'd been gratified to see that the older Chad's balls were no bigger than his, (prior to being struck by the soccer ball repeatedly, that is.) And Lee Fitzroy, who'd been the first boy to be spanked nude in their class, had no balls at all! But standing less than 2 feet away from an equally bare Tommy, he felt inadequate – Tommy's balls were half again as big as his, and the other boy's scrotum was more wrinkled and hung lower, making Wayne's look even more like a little boy's tight, high package.

"Now hold still," Mrs. Hendricks ordered. Wayne flinched a bit as the vice principal touched his bare balls, manhandling his tight sack into the open top of the rubber genital purse. The rubber felt cold. She immediately began pressing the inflation button on the black rubber cup covering his scrotum, and the device began inflating, first the top closing and pressing on his skin until it felt uncomfortably tight, then the sides closing in, pressing his balls more and more tightly together until they began to register an uncomfortable ache. He began fidgiting in discomfort, wondering how bad it would get and whether she was going to stop at all. Just as he was about to protest at the spreading dull ache, she stopped pumping. "There, the pressure dot is in the green. That should be perfect."

She turned to the class. "Mr. Sakarov should be feeling a bit uncomfortable now, but probably isn't feeling shooting pains, isn't that right, young man?"

Wayne nodded slowly. It was more than a bit uncomfortable, it was just short of unbearable. He didn't like this, he didn't like it at all. When the sling was attached and the old books loaded in, the tight top of the sack would be pulling straight down onto his bulging little balls, putting all the pressure onto them and his sack. How bad would it be? What he and Tommy be screaming in pain, like when your balls are kicked, or would they just feel sick, or the dull ache you get when your balls are in tight pants? The not knowing was killing him.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Hendricks had turned to Tommy, slipping the second genital purse over his droopier bag, guiding his bigger testicles inside. Tommy winces as a fingernail probed a bit too hard, and then he was enclosed in cold rubber, and Mrs. Hendricks quickly began pumping this second device as she had done Wayne's. Consternation grew and spread across Tommy's face. He wiggled with discomfort as the purse closed over his balls, squeezing the top of his plump sack, and his wiggling increased as he felt the rubbery insides press his balls tightly, forcing them into a smaller and smaller space together. Mrs. Hendricks kept pumping as a dull ache began in his left nut and then spread to his right, the ache increasing in insistence with every press of the inflation button. Just when he was about to cry out that she was crushing his balls, she stopped. "There, you're in the green, too," she pronounced.

Tommy's scrotum now looked twice as big as Wayne's with the inflated purse wrapping it. The underside of the purses squeezed the bases of both boys penises, pressuring them and preventing the loss of blood from their hard ons. Both boy's dicks had gotten even harder as a result, and bobbed above the black, bulging purses containing their prized boyhoods. In fact, to Wayne it almost felt like his penis was going to burst, it the pressure was so great. The burning inside from the release of his pee and the tingling hadn't subsided. Their classmates were holding whispered and not so quiet conversations concerning their erect members. Tommy's was especially comical because his was bigger, and because it was orange-red in color, but Wayne's member was getting just as much critical attention. They looked like a pair of swordsmen lining up for a duel – at any moment it seemed someone could call, "En garde," and the opposing swords would clash.

Crouching between them, Mrs. Hendricks clipped the sling onto the breakaway links dangling from each rubber purse tightly clutching each little boy purse. "Move over to third and fourth desks in the first row, boys, and get the next two books," she ordered.

Moving for the first time, Tommy realized that the purse didn't just pull on his balls, it gathered all the loose skin on his groin and from between his legs, on his groin, tightening everything connected to it—he could feel the skin stretched around his penis and pulled tightly from under him, between his legs, all the way to his ass hole, which felt the tug with every step. His hard orange dick bobbed embarrassingly in mid-air, Wayne's nodding back, and his balls transmitted their dull ache with each movement as his rippling butt muscles tugged the skin under his groin. Once beside the third desk in the row, the girl seated there made a point of bringing her book straight down between them, pushing both hard penises down painfully against the purses, then letting them spring past and bounce against their shirt fronts as each boy's penis tip slid free of the book forcing them down. The girl made a point of letting the book drop the last inch, the impact yanking both boy's sacks. Wayne's and Tommy's balls both throbbed indignantly at the mistreatment, and they doubled over slightly, which, because they were fastened together, meant they almost collided heads.

"Watch it, asswipe!" Wayne said through gritted teeth.

"You watch it, dickface," Tommy snapped back, fighting back the crest of the ache.

"Quiet, you two," Mrs. Hendricks said. "The rest of you children, have a care in putting your books in the sling – if you just drop them, the links will separate and I'll have to rehook them."

Just great, Tommy thought to himself. No worries about our balls, just complaints that she'd have to rehook the sling. They really don't care, he realized. None of the women at our school. They don't know how our balls feel when they do this stuff, and they don't care. The girls in our class don't, either. They don't know what it's like. Well, at least the boys ought to sympathize.

In fact, the next pupil was a boy, Lee Fitzroy of the empty scrotum in fact. As Tommy and Wayne moved back to stand by his desk, the weight of the first book making their trapped balls complain, Lee very carefully avoided any physical or even eye contact with their jutting organs, guiding his book underneath and gently easing it downward. Tommy and Wayne, who'd been tensed with fear waiting for another sharp tug on the lines and the accompanying pain, relaxed simultaneously. But just above the sling about 2 inches, Lee suddenly let go of the book, letting it fall the rest of the way. Both boys gasped and fought back the aching dull pain. "Oops," Lee said, a gleam in his eye and a smirk on his face. "Musta lost my grip." He looked up at both boys maliciously, whites of his eyes shining in his dark face. "You know how it is with us guys with no balls—we just aren't as strong as you real men." He gave both boys a wide, shit-eating grin. "Payback's a bitch," he whispered in a lower tone.

The children around him giggled. Tommy and Wayne remembered, too late, that they had been prominent among the kids dancing around the freshly spanked Lee outside school chanting, "No balls, no balls, Fitzroy has no balls!" Lee had taken their taunts and those of his classmates without comment, but apparently he wasn't impervious to them, and had a longer memory than Tommy had thought.

Because the breakaway links held, Mrs. Hendricks didn't admonish Lee or even comment. She just waited for a moment for both boys' butts to stop clenching, then waved at the doorway. "Back to the office," she said. "You've got 9 more trips each way before you're done. And if time gets short, we'll start putting in three books at a time. I'll just go on ahead and be waiting when you get there."

She moved off at a quick pace, heels clacking. The boys moved slowly down the aisle, the hands of their classmates probing their butts and even batting at their hard dicks as they went. Every movement made the sling sway and their balls ache in little pulses. Their dicks swayed in rhythm to their movements. It was a continuous misery compounded by the fact that a false move was rewarded with and instant increase in the stomach sickening ache. Wayne met Tommy's eyes as they exited the classroom and started moving sideways down the hall. There was a haunted look there, a haze of pain showing through as an undercurrent. Like a trapped animal being slowly beaten to death. Mrs. Hendricks had marched ahead, so they were essentially alone.

"Sorry," Wayne finally said. "Sorry for everything. Really. I didn't know it would be like this." He slipped slightly on the last word, and the sling banged his leg, jerking both of their sacks sharply. Tommy gasped and both boys stopped, riding out the surge of pain before going on.

"But I'm sorry," Wayne said. "I was scared, Sarge! And it hurt."

"Not like you're gonna hurt," Tommy threatened. "I'm going to kill you when this is over. I'm going to punch you until you puke. I'm going to use what's left of your balls as a punching bag. And then maybe I'll cut your dick off and feed it to you."

Wayne couldn't help it – he stopped abruptly and burst out laughing. "And you say I talk like old movies," he giggled. "Cut it off and feed it to me? That must be in every macho man scene in every show now!" He looked down. "Although it would make quite the meal now, wouldn't it," he said, admiring his powerfully erect phallus. "A regular feast!" The foreskin was pulled back so that it barely covered the bulge of the glans, pulsing in the air over the ominous black bulk of the inflated scrotal purse. Tommy could see that under his foreskin, Wayne had a quite normal looking pee slit in the head of his penis, just as Tommy's own cousin Gabriel did. He knew how Gabriel's dick looked erect, of course. He knew it all too well. He'd seen it up close in that condition enough times in the last two days, prior to going into his mouth, and after coming back out. Wayne's actually was bigger than Gabriel's, to his credit, and Tommy wondered idly, for a moment, how it would taste, and how it would feel pulsing against his tongue. He became sharply aware of his own erect penis, bobbing in the air just inches from the tip of Wayne's Had thinking about sucking Wayne's penis made him harder?

Tommy had seen graffiti of the type that graces restrooms everywhere from when he was a little boy, of course. He'd seen the crude drawings of men sucking other men's dicks, the crude pictures of anal intercourse, and the crude invitations to unspeakable acts. He'd wondered, when looking at the pictures as a little boy, why anyone would want someone else's peeing thing in their mouths. And now it came to him, almost shockingly, that he didn't wonder that any more. Because when he thought of having another boy's dick in his mouth, excitement rose in him, and his own dick, already hard from the scrotal purse, became even harder. He almost longed to have Wayne's thin, eager, pubescent dick in his mouth, to explore just how it felt there. He knew just how he'd do Wayne – he'd take the other boy standing up, falling on his own knees in front of Wayne. He wouldn't touch Wayne's dick with his hands, he'd lick it along the underside, first, forcing it to Wayne's belly, then he'd come down on it from the top and slurp it in, sucking hard and fast and overwhelming Wayne with sensation, pushing the foreskin back on the downward stroke, sucking it back again on the upward. He'd do it that way so that he could touch Wayne's sturdy, well-rounded buns and grip him by them, kneading the strong muscles and feeling Wayne's clenches as the sensations from Wayne's dick overwhelmed him, just as Tommy had with his brother Chad. And when Wayne came, he'd press his face as tightly to Wayne's groin as he could, breathing against his hot skin as the dick in his mouth pulsed and the warm fluid flowed down his throat, just as Chad's did when he came.

"How come you're looking at me like that?" Wayne was asking warily.

Tommy jerked to awareness again. "Like what?" he asked, trying to look innocent. His dick felt 3 inches wide, it was so full and tense. "I wasn't looking at you at all – I was thinking about what I was going to do to you when I get the chance. Maybe smack your balls with a hammer."

Both boys continued moving down the hall, grimacing slightly at the achy tug of the sling on their delicate sacks, trying not to make it sway too much.

"Come off it," Wayne said. "This isn't all my fault. It's the girls – they get everything around here. They don't make them get naked, they don't get spanked. Okay, that girl in your brother's class got spanked, but they don't usually. And they don't even have to do as much homework as us. It's like if you have a boy thing in your pants, you're scum. My Grandma loves this school – she says I need to learn my place. She says all boys need to learn their places. I don't think we're so bad, though."

"Look who's talking," Tommy said. "You sell me out to some stupid girl, then you try to sell me out to the principal to save your baby balls, and you don't think you're so bad?"

Wayne was quiet a while, and they entered the other building and made their way to the office, where Mrs. Hendricks stopped flipping though some papers long enough to unload the books in their sling and load two new ones. They started back down the hall, Tommy's mind drifting back to the bathroom walls. He used to see all sorts of references to gay behavior in bathrooms, especially gas station bathrooms. He'd once seen a message at a state fair that said, "I'll pay $20 to any young boy who lets me suck his dick – sit in stall one at midnight with pants up and hard on. Come alone." He didn't understand it then, why any guy would want another guy's dick in his mouth. But now...

"You've got that look again," Wayne said. "The weird, fuzzy look."

"I was just thinking about the stuff they have in restrooms," Tommy said after a moment, trying to cover his real thoughts. "You know, the stuff they have on the wall, stupid pictures of stuff. It used to scare me when I was a kid."

Those who shit within these walls
Roll their shit in little balls
Those who read these words of wit
Eat those little balls of shit!

Every time I'd shut my eyes, all I could think of was little brown balls of shit, served on a plate like meatballs. I could just see myself sticking a fork into them! It was sick!"

It was sick, Tommy thought, immediately wishing Wayne hadn't shared this poem with him. It wasn't like sucking some guy's dick at all, or even like fucking his butt. Butt fucking he could understand, at least being the fucker. It felt good – better than jerking off by a whole lot. No being the one getting fucked – that was iffier – he wasn't sure yet how he felt about that.

Wayne went on, oblivious to Tommy's expression. "And there was this one place where some guy had written,

If she's old enough to pee, she's old enough for me!

Like he wants to, you know, stick his thing in some little girl who's still in diapers! 'Cause babies can pee when they're born! So even if she's just born, she's old enough! After I saw that, all I could picture for weeks was some big ol' ugly hairy dude folding down some baby's diaper and sticking his big ol' thing right into her front hole, and not even caring that there was a big ol' load in her diaper, may be even smeared over her crotch! It's too sick!"

Tommy thought that Wayne's eyes were glittering in a way that suggested that he wasn't quite as sickened with these things as he was saying. But they were approaching the classroom door. As they came up the aisle, Mrs. Johnson admonished them. "Hurry up, boys," she said. encouragingly. "You still have 8 more trips."

Kids were prodding their butts and batting even more openly at their penises this trip. "Can you make them stop touching us?" Wayne pleaded.

"Oh, I'm afraid not," Mrs. Johnson smiled grimly. "You boys know the school rules. Bare bottoms are fair game for any slaps or pinches other students wish to administer, as long as they don't leave marks, of course, and bare genitals can be handled as long as they aren't damaged. In fact, between the sling you boys are wearing and your classmates, I'm afraid you're poor little boy parts will be quite sore by the time you're done. And you don't want to still be carrying books when school gets out—I'm afraid the other children might tease you unmercifully then."

The two new books were unloaded from their sling, and two old books were added, and Tommy and Wayne set out again, the slings swaying and tugging painfully on their trapped balls. They had unconsciously started moving in more of a coordinated rhythm, though, so each tug was more like a pulsing ache rather than like being slapped down there. As they left the classroom and headed down the hall, Wayne picked up their conversation of before, just as if he was Tommy's greatest friend, and not the person who had gotten Tommy into this mess. "They've always got those gross pictures of guys with other guys' things in their mouths, too! Like guys like it! That's got to be the worst! I mean, I think it would be better to have a guy shove his thing up your butt than stick it in your mouth, where you'd be able to taste it and all! And what if he, like, decides to pee when his thing is in there? Barf city! And big guys squirt stuff like pee when they rub their things! I know, because I saw my cousin do it! He was in the shower, and I had to take a dump, and I guess he didn't hear me come in and sit down, and he starts rubbing his thing real fast—it was a lot bigger than mine or yours, and all the sudden he just squirts this stuff out the tip of it! It looked like snot! Talk about gross! Suppose he did that in your mouth! I mean, if he did it up your butt, you could just shit it out. But in your mouth? Gross!"

"Wayne, do you have to talk all the time?" Tommy asked in exasperation.

"What's the big deal? It passes the time, and it keeps my mind off how much my balls hurt," Wayne said in an injured tone. He reached over to open the door they'd reached at the end of the hall. "So what do you think? Like say some big guy has you tied up, or he's holding a gun on you. And he says you have to take it in your mouth or up your butt! And you have to decide."

"I'd say the mouth, then bite his dick off," Tommy said.

"But you can't do that," Wayne said. "Suppose he says he'll shoot you if you do. Suppose he says he'll cut your balls off if he even feels a tooth. Then what? You'd pick the butt, right! It might hurt a lot, but it wouldn't be gross like having some guy's thing in your mouth! Right? Isn't that what you'd want?" Wayne looked across that Tommy earnestly as they worked their way across the courtyard.

"What I want is for you to shut up," Tommy said. "It's not like we're buddies or something. I'm still going to kill you when this is over. Maybe I'll tie you naked to a tree and smear your balls with honey and let the ants bite them off a little nip at a time."

"You don't mean that," Wayne said. "You're not really mad. You're just saying that to try to scare me. Admit it – you like me – you really like me." His voice had taken on a feminine lilt at the end, and Tommy realized it was another of Wayne's weird movie quotes.

"You're disgusting," Tommy said. "And I hate you. Why can't you to shut your big fat mouth?" They approached the door to the other building. Wayne reached over to open this door, too.

"Really, which would you choose?" he said, acting as if Tommy hadn't said anything. "Your mouth or your butt? You'd take the butt, right?"

Tommy didn't respond, because they were approaching the office again. But his thoughts were in turmoil. Because the picture that was in his mind was of Wayne, knocking him down in the woods, sitting astride his back, and ordering Tommy to choose between having his pointy dick in Tommy's mouth or his butt. Somehow, Tommy would end up handcuffed, and naked too, and Wayne would jerk him to his feet and eye him contemptuously, the same way Gabriel had looked at him just before paddling the living daylights out of his butt on Saturday. Wayne would make a few remarks about Tommy's small, shriveled penis and high, tight, little boy balls, which in his imagination looked more like his brother Chad's package than his own, or even like the little-boy genitals of the Morton twins. In fact, it was their identical little pink packages that Tommy pictured on himself. And Wayne would be naked too, his penis jutting like it was now, and Tommy would meekly get on his knees, and then they would be surrounded by an entire circle of boys and girls, laughing at Tommy's tiny genitals, which now had shriveled to a button even smaller than Chad's at his worst, and jeering how meekly he submitted to Wayne's orders. And Tommy would open his mouth and lick the other boy's dick from the top of his balls to the hooded tip, tasting the saltiness of the boy's organ, sweaty from being trapped in his pants up to the point he'd become magically nude.

And then, flicking his head downward, Tommy would take the long thin organ into his mouth, running his tongue around the foreskin, then sucking it all in, until he could feel the tip pulsing against the back of his throat. He would work his tongue against its rubbery hardness, filling his entire mouth, and Wayne would grip his hair in two hands, and thrust against Tommy's lips, not caring that he was hurting Tommy. And two boys standing behind Tommy would squat beside him, one gripping Tommy's tiny penis in his left hand, the other using his fingertips to grip Tommy's tiny, tight balls. And both boys would raise their free arms and spank his bare butt simultaneously, hot fire spreading across both buns immediately. And Tommy would suck harder, and faster, as the blows rained down on his unprotected butt, the way they had when Gabriel had paddled him, and the boy gripping his penis would yank it simultaneously with each blow, and the boy gripping his balls would squeeze rhythmically, harder and harder at the same time. But instead of the unbearable pain that ought to result, Tommy would just get hornier, and own dick would grow and harden, until, yanking Tommy's face into his groin, Wayne would cum, gushing an enormous flood of hot, thick fluid, filling Tommy's throat and making him swallow again and again.

And the boy gripping Tommy's balls would squeeze, grinding them together the way Gabriel had done at the end of his paddling, but instead of pain, Tommy would feel a rush of lust, and then he himself would cum, a dry cum as befitted his little boy genitals. And the crowd of kids gathered around would jeer him for being a little baby dry cummer, and the two boys holding his genitals would push on his back and bend him over, forcing his face into the damp leaves on the ground. And Wayne would walk around him contemptuously, his long, thin dick still hard despite having just cum buckets, slimy and dripping from Tommy's spit and Wayne's own output. Then Wayne would kick Tommy's legs farther apart to spread his butt, and the boys holding him would thrust his butt backwards and up, and Wayne would get on his knees, and then Tommy would feel the damp tip of the boy's throbbing maleness against his butt hole. And Wayne would grip him by the hips and ram himself brutally into Tommy, and Tommy would feel the other boy's hardness penetrating him deeply, far deeper than Gabriel or Elvin had been capable of doing. And then Wayne would begin pistoning in and out of him, not like the short, sharp little thrusts his cousin Gabriel and Elvin had used, but long, powerful strokes -- masterful strokes of thorough domination. And Wayne would give out a guttural cry and ram into Tommy's butt so hard that that it would feel like it was being paddled. And the rod in Tommy would swell, stretching his butt hole the limit and then beyond, but the sharp pain would make him cum again, and Wayne's fluid would fill him full again, as full as an enema, and Wayne would pull out, leaving his butt hole gaping, and Tommy would cower there on the ground, Wayne's fluid dripping down the back of his tiny scrotum and then down the underside of his tiny penis, flowing off the tip like thick pee. And the crowd of watching children, both boys and girls, would cheer Wayne, and call him "the man," and then spit on Tommy and walk away, leaving him lying in the dirt alone and naked. And then Chad would be there, and naked like Tommy, but sporting man size genitals. And Chad would look at him with pity, and then Jesse would be there too, but Jesse would be disappointed and angry. "You said you would only do that stuff with me," he would say accusingly. "I trusted you." And then Tommy would feel the way he should, the lowest, most contemptible thing on Earth."

"Hey, the door's right here! Wayne exclaimed. The book sling rose into the air as the boys' movements lost synchrony, Tommy not turning in time. His balls complained as the sack yanked him in return. Looking down to navigate around the door, Tommy realized that the tip of his penis was pulsing visibly, and was slightly damp. He blushed with shame as he realized that he had leaked a bit of fluid out the tip, like he sometimes did a few strokes before cumming when he masturbated. In fact, he could feel the liquid pressure inside him that presaged imminent ejaculation. They were in the office, and Mrs. Hendriks was approaching, frowning at the boys as if she was aware something was amiss but couldn't place it. He could feel things inside him starting to contract, the presaging contractions to ejaculation. Oh, shit, he was screwed.