Tommy's Attitude Adjustment Chapter 93
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 93: Girl on Girl Action

"Did you get it?" Wayne said as Tommy returned. "The password, I mean."

"Right here in my head," Tommy said.

"So he believed that you...that I..." Wayne trailed off. "What's he say about me.. about..."

"Yeah," Tommy said. "He believed I did ... the thing we're not talking about. And he said he was satisfied – he said he could just picture it." Wayne grimaced. "But he won't tell anyone, especially Aiesha. He said as long as he knows when he looks at you, that's enough. And if he did tell, other kids might think he's .. well... you know."

"Oh, they're enough, all right," Tommy said reassuringly. "Remember, he showed me some of them. They're enough to make her fear us from now on."

"I'll start the computer up," Wayne said. Trying to act nonchalant though he had to be burning with excitement at Tommy's description of what was on the disk, Wayne turned and started to sit down in front of his computer, winced, then abruptly stood up as if he hadn't been about to sit down. "You should be the one to sit in front of the computer," he said. "You know the password." He tried to casually move his hand back to sooth his butt without being obvious, but there was no subtle way for a boy to rub his butt hole. Tommy carefully pretended not to take notice. He certainly knew the feeling – his own butt and butthole were pretty sensitive themselves. After all, he'd been in Wayne's position himself only an hour before, and the kid invading him had been rougher, if not better hung that Tommy. But Tommy had been more experienced that Wayne, too, and knew what to expect, and this had to have been a new and unsettling experience for Wayne. Unsettling was the right word, too – you felt unsettled inside, and you felt unsettled in your head. But if you ignored unsettling things, in Tommy's experience they went away after awhile, so he didn't share his empathy with Wayne. The more silence, the better.

"You know, I met that Reverend fellow before," Wayne said, firing up his computer while standing and leaning over it, his other hand gently pressing on his lower butt right between the cheeks while trying to hide the action from Tommy. Tommy, equally sore in the hindquarters, declined the chair and stood and leaned over beside Wayne. He'd liked to have told Wayne he was sorry about the hurt. "I think I'll stand, too, " Tommy said instead. "We'll both be able to see the monitor better that way. I'll feed it the password," he added.

He leaned over, blocking Wayne's gaze, and typed some gibberish into the computer as the disk accessed, hoping Wayne wouldn't catch on that no password had been requested by the computer. "There, it's unlocked," he said, clicking on an icon at random as the directory of the disk popped up, then leaning back so Wayne could see the screen. Microsoft Paint quickly loaded, and there, filling the entire screen, in living color, was a picture of Aiesha with her top and bra off, her huge breasts sagging, her face clearly visible. .

"God!" Wayne said. He leaned into the screen and studied a giant areola from about 3 inches away. "God!" he said again, licking his lips. He forgot all about the residual soreness in his butt, forgot that the boy standing next to him had violated that virgin place. He forgot that pictures of him jerking off were on a camera phone somewhere. He pulled the directory up from the task bar and clicked on another picture, then another, his breath growing faster as he viewed shot after shot until he was practically hyperventilating. He finally stopped on the last picture, a shot taken straight down toward the floor, showing Aiesha's eyes rolled up at the camera as she sucked happily, her nose buried in pubic hair. "God!" Wayne said one more time. "Jesus fucking Christ on a fucking moped!"

Tommy looked at Wayne in shock. "You can't say 'dick,' but you can say that?" he said accusingly.

Tommy shook his head. "They don't say 'dick' in movies?"

"I suppose they do," Wayne said. "But unless I think of a quote, I can't say it."

"You're insane," Tommy said.

"I don't care," Wayne said. "No wonder Aiesha's doing stuff for this kid – look what he's got on her!" He waved to the picture of Aiesha sucking cock. Suddenly a look of fear came over his face. "We gotta hide this," he said, his voice rising. "We got to hide it where no one can find it. And Gram can find anything!"

"I'll take the disk with me," Tommy said. "I bet your grandma won't find it if it's at my house."

"But if it's at your house..." Wayne trailed off. Tommy knew what he was saying. Can I really trust you to keep it safe, and back me with Aiesha? Are we close enough to share a secret like this? Tommy leaned into Wayne and put a hand on his shoulder. Wayne flinched, but Tommy held on. He looked into Wayne's serious eyes, noting, for the first time, their slate gray color and Wayne's long, curved lashes. Wayne had beautiful eyes. Tommy resisted the urge to pull Wayne's boyish body close to his.

"You can trust me," he said seriously. "I didn't hurt you in the shower, I won't talk about it to anyone, and I'll take care of the disk. We share something now, something I'll never tell anyone. Okay? So you can trust me." He stared into Wayne's eyes, unblinking, until Wayne himself blinked.

"Okay," Wayne said The two stood in that pose for a long second, then, feeling self-conscious, they separated and turned back to the screen.

Wayne immediately busied himself scrolling through the pictures again. More minutes passed as both boys carefully examined every detail of every picture. Wayne had a hard-on in his pants, Tommy suddenly realized as Wayne gaped at a picture of Aiesha's pubic triangle. Tommy's slightly sore, overworked penis was soft in his pants – Aiesha's sloppy, naked boobs wouldn't have done anything for him even if he'd been firmly heterosexual. And, by now, it was clear that he wasn't at all firmly heterosexual. Perhaps not even marginally heterosexual.

Wayne stopped at the shot of Aeisha deep throating the boy's cock, the only picture of fellatio in the set. Tommy thought he knew why – this was the only picture of Aiesha sucking the boy's cock where his cock wasn't at least partially visible. "Wow," Wayne said. "I don't get it – why would she want a kid's... a kid's ... thing... in her mouth!"

"Dick!" Tommy said, exasperated. "It's called a dick!"

"Shhhhhh! Not so loud!" Wayne said, looking around his room suspiciously, as if his grandmother might materialize through the wainscoting at any second. He relaxed a moment later. "Sorry," he said. "I get jumpy – I have ever since Aiesha snuck in here and took my picture when I was in bed, well, you know."

He looked intently at the picture of Aiesha with a mouth full of teen-aged cock. "But I still don't get why she'd do it – she even looks happy!"

"The kid said she drank some wine," Tommy said. He wondered what Wayne would think if he could read Tommy's mind. Because he knew the wine wasn't the reason. He and Aiesha had something in common, after all. They'd both had the older boy's dick in their mouths. Because they'd both wanted it. They'd both sucked the boy enthusiastically, and they'd enjoyed it. He himself had been hard the whole time he'd been licking and sucking on the other boy, just like he'd been hard when he'd sucked his friend Jesse, and Elvin. He thought, now, that he might even get hard if his brother Chad made him suck his puny dick again, and he almost certainly would get hard tonight if Gabriel made him do it again. Just thinking about it was making him hard now, his poor, over stimulated cock struggling to stand up again in his tight pants. He bet that Aiesha felt like he did when sucking the boy, too. She certainly looked happy enough about it.

Tommy saw that Wayne had stopped studying the last picture and was staring into space. So he reached past Wayne, closed the open picture files, and popped out the CD. "I'll just take this home with me," he said. "I have places to hide things. Tomorrow we'll tell Aiesha we have it, and that she'd better not spread the pictures of you around or bother either of us anymore or it goes in an email to all the kids we know. And she won't be able to do a thing to us."

Wayne started, then produced a rare shy smile. "Really?" he said. "She won't be able to use the pictures of me?"

"Really," Tommy said. "Feel better now?"

Wayne reached over awkwardly and gave Tommy an unexpected but fervent hug which he quickly released. "Louie," he said. "This could be the start of a beautiful friendship."

"So I was saying," Wayne said as they stood by the counter, neither one feeling like sitting down just yet, and both for very much the same reason. Wayne had split a can of Coke between them by pouring half into two glasses, apologizing to Tommy that they had to share because he was only allowed to drink one Coke an evening. "I met that Reverend fellow before, a couple of years back."

"Really?" Tommy said, half listening. He was still mentally reviewing the last hour. He'd sucked and fucked another boy as his bitch, then he'd turned the tables and fucked this boy, Wayne, in his virgin butt. And there'd been no repercussions at all! The other boy didn't even know who he was and would never see him again, and Wayne actually was grateful to him, was talking to him like they were old friends, and the shower scene hadn't happened at all. "So tell me about meeting The Reverend," Tommy said amiably.

"It was, like, two years ago," Wayne said. "I had this friend called Butch back then. Just for that summer. We were going to this summer camp at church every day. He didn't go to our school, he was gone by fall. He lived off some other direction from the church play yard, but after church camp there was no one at his home, so he'd walk home with me and then go home on his own after we played awhile. And one day we were walking home from camp, and it's mid afternoon and everything is all sleepy and quiet like it gets around here, and he starts telling me this joke. You've heard it – you say to a guy, 'when you get ready to take a bath, do you take off your shirt?' And the guy says, 'Yeah, of course I take off my shirt.' Because he has no idea where you're going with the joke and the question seems stupid. And you say, 'Shows you're smart.' And he's like, 'well, duh.' And then you go on and say, 'And do you take off your shoes and socks?' And he says 'Yeah,' and you say, 'Shows you're smart.' And then you go on and say, 'And do you take off your pants?' And he says 'Yeah,' and you say, 'Shows you're smart.' And then you go on and say, 'And do you take off your underpants?' And he says 'Yeah,' and you say, 'shows your nuts!'" You know, because nuts can mean crazy, but nuts can also mean – well, you know," Wayne said, a bit too bashfully, Tommy thought, considering what they'd just done in the shower a few minutes before. Wayne had climaxed at the end. Tommy wondered if Wayne didn't want to talk about the whole thing because he hadn't enjoyed it at all, or because he had.

"I hadn't heard the joke then, though. And so I laughed when he said, 'Shows your nuts.' I laughed a lot. At least after I got it. I didn't get it to start with, not 'til he pointed at his pants and said it several tiems. And then we walked a few more feet, and he reached down, still walking, and unzipped his pants. And he pulled out his – his boy stuff right there – all of it. His nuts and his – his weenie," Wayne said, blushing as he said 'weenie.' "And he walked along like that with his stuff hanging out. 'Like that,' he said, and he pointed at himself down there. 'Shows your nuts.' And I said something like, 'Put that away, someone will see you!' And he said, 'I gotta take a pee,' only he didn't say 'pee,' he said the p-word. The one you're not supposed to say," Wayne said.

"Piss?" Tommy said helpfully.

"Yeah," Wayne said, blushing more. Wayne was such a contradiction – one moment he was letting Tommy fuck him up his butt and coming in Tommy's hand, and the next he couldn't even say the simplest of dirty words – at least, not unless they appeared in a movie. Wayne had paused, not looking at Tommy. Tommy wondered if he should say something. But in a moment Wayne went on. "And then he did."

"Did what?" Tommy said, having forgotten what they were talking about with the mental image of Wayne bent forward in the shower, his back glistening with water, offering his butt to Tommy.

"He did what he said he had to do. You know." Wayne blushed a bit, lowering his voice. "He peed," he almost whispered.

"He pissed on the sidewalk?" Tommy said. "Right there in the street? With houses and people around?"

"Not so loud!" Wayne hushed. He looked both directions, like his grandmother might pop up at any second from the shadows. Tommy refrained from pointing out they were still completely alone, and the grandmother herself had said she wouldn't be back for hours. "He just let it go, right out in front of him, and kept walking! He wasn't even touching himself – he was pointing straight out and it went way out in front of him. I guess he was hard down there. You know how we stick out when... Anyway, he let it go right out in front of him. And he was walking across it – I couldn't believe it. I remember thinking that he was getting the stuff on the bottoms of his shoes, and I wouldn't want to do that. In fact, I moved over, away from him so I wouldn't step in it. And he finished, and then he walked a ways more with it sticking out."

"Was he big?" Tommy asked. "I mean, did it stick out a lot so people would see it, or was it barely sticking though so they wouldn't?"

Wayne thought a moment. "It stuck out quite a ways, so it was pretty big, I guess. Bigger than me. And he went along like that for awhile, me telling him someone was gonna see him, and him laughing and kind of strutting, you know. And finally he gave in and put it away. We'd probably walked a block with him like that by then. I couldn't believe it!"

"Weird," Tommy said.

"It gets weirder," Wayne said. "My folks were off at their job again then, too. So I was staying here with Gram. And about bedtime, the doorbell rang. I was already in my PJs, ready for bed, and The Reverend comes in. And he says to my Gram, 'I need to talk to the boy outside.'" And my Gram just says, 'of course, Reverend.' And he takes me by the arm and pulls me outside. He drags me all the way to the street. And it was cold out, and I was barefoot! And wearing PJ's! You know, with the fly that doesn't have a zipper..."

Tommy nodded. He knew, all right. Most boys eventually grew to dislike boys' pajamas for that reason, because the open fly that was so convenient for peeing in the night when you were a little boy, became embarrassing to wear later, when you realized the fly opened at times when you moved and gave everyone glimpses of your immature dick and balls. He wondered how many people had looked at his stuff when he'd been a naïve little boy, sitting with his legs apart in pajamas or walking around oblivious. But then again, he used to just whip it out and pee in front of anyone back then, so lots of folks had probably seen his stuff when he was a little boy.

"Anyhow, we get to this car sitting on the curb," Wayne continued, "and I'm freezing, and he opens the back door and shoves me in and goes to get in the front. It's hot in the car, though – the heater's running like crazy. So I went from shivering to sweating in an instant. And The Reverend gets in the front and turns around and glares at me over the front seat. And that's when I notice that Butch is huddled in the front seat, kinda leaning over himself. And he's crying – his face is all puffy, and he won't look at me. And The Reverend says to me, 'Butch's mother called me in because of an ungodly incident that occurred this afternoon – an incident you were involved in. I'm here to get the truth.' He reached out and took my chin in his hand, then, and squeezed it hard so I couldn't look away from him. It hurt – he was digging his fingernails in. But I was too scared to try to get away, even. And he looks me in the yes and says, 'God knows when you lie, boy, and he sees all,' he said. 'Don't think you can lie to me – God will tell me, and I'll know.'"

"I kinda looked over at Butch with my eyes, but he's just looking down at his lap and shaking, kinda. I realized he was crying, big time. His face was all red, and he was bawling like a big baby. It was embarrassing. I mean, he was bigger than me, and seemed so tough. So I felt bad for him then. And The Reverend looks at Butch and he says, 'I'll get the truth, and you will pay as all sinners pay, with your flesh! As the Devil burns the flesh of all sinners in the fires of hell, so I will burn your flesh in this earthly realm!' And Butch started really bawling, wailing like his leg was cut off or something. And I remember wondering what he meant by burning Butch's flesh – like, maybe taking a burning stick and poking Butch with it or something. Then The Reverend turned my face toward his, and all of a sudden I got this thought that he was going to do something bad to me. Maybe we had one of those psychic connections they talk about on TV. I had picture in my head of me over the Reverend's lap, getting spanked the way Gram spanks me, bare bottomed. I could see my own pants and underpants around my ankles, and my – my bottom was red and blistered like your brother's got when he got it. And in my head I could see my face clear as can be, but I was bawling like Butch. And The Reverend was raising his hand up real high and hitting me real hard! I could see it plain as day. I've never gotten over it."

Wayne paused and took a deep breath. "I don't know – maybe there is something to that psychic stuff. Right then, I knew that's what was going to happen to Butch. And The Reverend guy just nodded at me with this hard look that said, 'Yeah, just like that, And worse.' And I just knew Butch was gonna get it, and I would, too, if I didn't tell him everything."

"So you got scared and spilled it all?" Tommy asked.

"Oh, yeah," Wayne said. "I got so scared I..." he looked sheepish. "I was younger then," he said.

"You peed your pants," Tommy said.

"My pajamas," Wayne said. "It was only a little, because I'd just gone to the bathroom because I was going to bed, but then I was more afraid because I knew Gram would kill me for wetting my pants." He stopped.

"Yeah," Tommy said. "Women don't like it much when you pee yourself. They take it personally."

"Back then she used to put me in diapers if I wet myself," Wayne said, sharing a confidence.

"Oh," Tommy said.

"Yeah," Wayne continued. "'Course, the diapers themselves weren't so bad – it was only at night, so it wasn't like anyone ever saw me in them. And if I didn't go in them for a few days, she'd stop putting them on me. The bad part was really the diaper-rash stuff she used to rub on me ... Anyway, I'm sitting there in wet PJs thinking I'm gonna get in trouble from everyone, and The Reverend says, 'I've got a pretty good idea of the evil Butch has been up to, but I need to hear it from your own lips, too, before I give him the mortification of the flesh he's earned.' That's what he said, mortification of the flesh. Because I looked it up the next day. It means making someone hurt by beating them and stuff like that. And Butch really lost it then, rolling into a ball, begging and whimpering. And The Reverend all of a sudden yells at him, 'Quiet, you sin-filled little swine,' and Butch quieted down, but was still shaking. And then he says to me, 'Now tell me what happened, boy, and don't even think about lying to me.' And I spilled it. All of it. I was so scared! I'd have wet myself several times over if I could have. I told him all about the joke, and how Butch pulled his – you know – out, and how he peed while he walked, and everything! And he just stared at me the whole time. His eyes – I don't know if you noticed, but his eyes just bore right into you. I thought when I finished that he was going to drag me over the seat and spank me just like he did in that vision I had. I actually reached down and covered my bottom with both hands in case that's what he did. Sometimes that worked with Gram – she'd try to swat me around my hands and then just give up. But he didn't do anything but let go of my chin. And then he just turned back to Butch and said, not yelling, just real firmly, 'You're going to wish you were dead and gone to meet your maker when I'm through with you, boy. The staff of Adam is a holy gift of God, not to be displayed wantonly. The holy jewels of Adam are also a gift, a gift that must be modestly and chastely covered lest they tempt females to unholy acts. You will learn this, boy. You will learn modesty. You will learn it by experiencing the hell of its opposite. Remove your vestments, boy! You wanted to be naked as Adam before the fall, and naked you shall be. You wanted others to see your puny holy staff – so we'll let all the others see. You wanted to show off your holy jewels, we'll let everyone see them! You will make the march of shame back into your family dwelling devoid of modesty, with all your holy parts shamefully displayed, and then I will suggest to your family how to punish those areas you should rightly have kept hidden.'"

"Then he turned to me," Wayne said to Tommy, "and I thought, oh, boy, now I'm going to get it! I really thought I was gonna get spanked, and I squirted myself in my pants again! But he just said, 'Get out, boy!' and I got out," Wayne finished. "I was covered with sweat, and my crotch was all wet, and I shivered all the way back to the apartment, and I never stopped shivering even after Gram had stripped me and diapered me and I was in bed. I couldn't believe that Butch's parents had just handed him over to a guy like that! It wasn't like he'd done anything all that much." He looked at Tommy earnestly. "I mean, we've all taken our things out and peed somewhere where we shouldn't! Like in the woods? Or into a drainage ditch? It's what boys do! And it isn't so bad letting another guy see your thing! You see guys' things all the time when we're in the restroom! And I couldn't believe Gram had just let this guy drag me away, too, without any protest at all, not even asking where he was going or what he was going to do to me." Wayne finished. He looked abashed. "He'd have like to spank me – I'm sure of it. He considered it, and that's what I saw when he looked at me – him thinking about spanking me! I wonder if Gram would have been mad if he did, or if she'd have thought I deserved it for watching Butch."

"She'd have probably spanked you herself for getting spanked," Tommy suggested. "My mom would."

"Yeah," Wayne said. He drained the rest of his Coke. "And to top that off, I had to spend every night for the rest of the week in diapers. I hate that – you have to hold it until she takes the diaper off in the morning, you can't just get up and pee."

"Harsh," Tommy said. "My sister's punishing me now, like I said. She makes me hold it until my cousin takes me to the bathroom."

Both boys contemplated quietly for awhile. "So what happened to Butch?" Tommy finally said. "I mean, what did they do to him?"

"I don't know," Wayne admitted. "He didn't go to summer camp for a few days, and then when he did he didn't hang around me anymore. He was different. But he walked like he was hurting, you know? Like he would sit down real slow, and he would touch his bottom when people weren't watching him, you know, kind of rubbing it like it hurt. And he wouldn't walk up and pee in the bathroom if someone was already standing there, you know? He'd wait until we were done and went to wash our hands, then he'd get up real close and go. Like he didn't want us to see his stuff. Lefty Moore snuck up behind him once and looked over his shoulder and Butch got mad and hit him hard. He said afterward that Butch's thing was real little, that's all he said. 'A little red thing,' he said. And it hadn't been red when I saw it, and not that little, either. So I think he got spanked, maybe on his boy parts, too. Because why else would they be red? And then summer camp was over, and I never saw him again."

Tommy let this soak in a moment. He tried to picture how it had been for Wayne, a shivering 9-year-old in pajamas in the big back seat of a car, his friend weeping in the front and The Reverend gripping his chin, forcing him to make eye contact. It was unimaginable – as unimaginable as himself being allowed to torture Chad, as unimaginable as him, totally naked, being paddled by his younger cousin in front of a back yard full of Girl Scouts, or masturbating to orgasm in front of them. In other words, it was a completely possible scene, given the other things that happened around here.

"Wayne, did you ever wonder if other places are different?" Tommy asked suddenly.

"What do you mean, different," Wayne said. "People speak different languages and dress differently and ..."

"No, I mean, have you ever wondered if other kids get punished like we do?" Tommy persisted. "You know, having to be bare in front of girls, and getting paddled in front of everyone, and having to do stuff like carry books with our dicks or our balls, and be kicked with soccer balls and stuff. Because you never see it on TV or in the movies. All they ever do is ground kids, or take away their privileges. And a lot of times they don't even do that! And you never see naked kids in movies or on TV, but around here they make kids get naked all the time!" Tommy said.

"Just boys," Wayne said. "They almost never do anything to girls. But us boys are getting it all the time."

"Yeah," Tommy said. "But you never see boys getting punished on TV or in the movies."

"Maybe they just don't show it," Wayne suggested.

"Maybe," Tommy said. "Or maybe our town is weird, you know? Like a weird place where the adults are mutants."

"Like a Stephen King movie," Wayne said suddenly. "Only the adults are weird instead of the kids. And this is the only place like that. Like, maybe the moms and Grams and teachers and stuff got invaded by aliens! And the aliens make them punish us." His eyes brightened. "Hey, maybe they get recharged or something when boys suffer! And it doesn't work with girls! Like, when a boy gets spanked and he's all humiliated and hurt, it's like feeding time for them!"

Tommy rolled his eyes. "I didn't mean that," he said. "I just wonder if people who like to punish boys by spanking them and stuff have just kinda gotten together here, and it isn't like that other places. 'Cause I read that there are places where you can't hit kids at all, not even on their pants."

Wayne got a far away look. "My dad said something once," he said. "When he was here for a few weeks with Mom. Mom was on a tear, yelling about something that she said he'd done. I don't remember, even, what it was, but I remember thinking that I knew he hadn't done it, that Mom had done it herself. But he just let her yell at him, and then he said he was sorry and would make it up to her, and then he took me and we went for a walk until she cooled down. And I asked Dad why he let Mom yell at him when it was her fault, and she said that was because all the males in this town were pussy whipped. That's what he said, pussy whipped. Like with a cat. I didn't make any sense. I mean, why would you hit someone with a cat? But he said that I'd better remember that, especially when he wasn't around, and had better agree with everything Mom and Gram said, even if they were in the wrong. 'It only takes one complaint to be up for wife beating,' he said. 'Or to be branded a juvenile delinquent. And she doesn't even have to have a mark on her around here. Or any witnesses. The Sheriff will arrest you, and the judge will convict you, and then you have a record and you're on probation and they'll make you do hard time in the big house if you don't toe the line from then on.' And I didn't know what he was talking about."

"I think I do," Tommy said. "I think he was saying that the women are all in charge around here, and that the men and boys have to do what they say because they can paddle us when we're young and lock us up and do anything they want to us when we're old if we don't do as they say. And the guys that can't deal with it move away and get out of here, and the rest of us are powerless. Like you and me – the teachers and our parents can whip our butts are even smack us in the nuts and we have to just take it. And if we try to run away, they'll send us somewhere worse, like that farm of The Reverend's."

"Well, it's not so bad," Wayne said. "Mom and Gram are both good to me, usually. Gram got me the computer, and she makes my favorite foods. And she buys me stuff, and... But I still don't know what Dad meant by being 'pussy whipped,'" Wayne mused. "I mean, it doesn't make any sense. I've been whipped with a belt, but a cat?"

Tommy rolled his eyes. "Maybe they were talking about pussy willows," he suggested, trying to keep from laughing. "You could whip a guy with them, couldn't you?"

"I guess," Wayne said doubtfully. Tommy turned his back in the guise of rinsing out his glass so that Wayne wouldn't see him fighting the urge to giggle. He looked at the kitchen clock, a big black cat with a tail that swung back and forth like a pendulum.

"Good luck," Wayne said. "I'd let you hide out here, but Gram would kill me if you're here when she comes back. I'm not allowed to have boys around when she's not here."

Tommy waved the CD at Wayne. "At least we've got this," he said. "I'll hide it where no one can find it – it's our ace in the hole." He removed the chain lock from Wayne's door and let himself out, hearing Wayne put the chain on behind him. It was getting dark out, and the air was brisk. And despite his jaunty air with Wayne, he was apprehensive. What did Beth have planned for him tonight?

In the end, it had turned out okay for Chad, although it hadn't gone exactly as he'd planned. He had intended to cum first during the circle jerk, and make Matty cum second. But he'd forgotten a common characteristic of underdeveloped, prepubertal boys –they had very sensitive penises, and hair triggers. And perhaps he was a bit too good at masturbating small penises. Because it only took perhaps 30 seconds of him stroking Matty's little member with his inverted hand technique before Matty was squealing and dancing and clenching his little butt and then pushing Chad's hand away because he was "done already." And that's how Matty got the first 3 points.

But there was an advantage – he got 3 points for making Matty cum, and not having to masturbate Matty meant that Chad could concentrate on his own sensations. When you add to that the fact that Matty's brother Jeremy apparently had a lot of practice working out with his own Chad-sized penis, and the upshot was that a minute later he was on his toes, grunting, spilling his spatter of drops onto the clean tile floor. And that mean he had 5 points, first to make his partner cum for three points, and second to cum for another 2. Jeremy had looked at his now sticky fingered hand with genuine distaste and continued to grip Chad's damp, shrinking organ for lack of anywhere else to put his hand. And although Jeremy now had 2 points for making Chad cum and Matty 3 for cumming first, both were having problems adding to their point totals. Despite numerous protests from Jimmy that he was going to "yank it off," Matty kept squeezing the other boy's bigger penis too hard, pulling rather than stroking it. Pulling it painfully, if Jimmy's complaints were to be believed. And Matty didn't seem willing to change, merely snapping back to each of Jimmy's complaints that, "that's the way I do it!" And Jeremy seemed distracted by the mess Chad had made of his hand, plus Jimmy couldn't seem to get a good feel for the shorter length of the prepubertal Jeremy's penis, and thus kept losing his grip, making Jeremy's overly hard penis slap his stomach loudly. But finally Jeremy made some noises like he was clearing his throat and arched his back, his little wiener pulsing, and he dry came with a gusto that could not have been faked, his hand spasmodically squeezing Chad's penis as he came and making Chad's ardor start rising again. Matty wanted to give up on Jimmy at that point, but Mrs. Snetch insisted he continue on until Jimmy was "sated" also, pointing out that he wasn't touching her daughter until his avarice had been "slaked."

So they had to stand in the circle for 2 more minutes, all eyes on Jimmy's twisted dork as Matty worked on perfecting a gentler stroke with the avid aid of Mrs. Git. Chad watched, too, curious as to just what would happen when his friend finally came.

Jimmy's legs tensed, and his butt tightened, and then he came up on his toes and arched his back. His breath came in short gasps, then he suddenly held it and his curved dick began pulsing. A thin glob of gunk spurted from the end a few centimeters to arc to the ground, then a smaller spurt and finally a little spatter that coated Matty's hand rather than hitting the ground. Mrs. Git applauded and Jimmy blushed cutely, then Mrs. Snetch handed out tissues and Jeremy and Matty fussily cleaned their hands, then raced to the sink and lathered their befouled digits frantically. Chad and Jimmy sheepishly wiped their own dicks, declining Mrs. Git's offer to do so, and then attacked the drops on the floor, arguing good-naturedly over whose spots were whose responsibility. Somehow, the fact they'd just engaged in mutual masturbation with two other boys didn't seem that out of the ordinary, nor had the fact that neither good friend had ever seen the other one wet cum before (Chad had been forced to masturbate in front of his class, including Jimmy, but that was just before he'd started actually making semen). Both boys were actually pondering the same thing – how differently the two of them ejaculated, yet how similarly as well.

Then it was time to count up the points and sort out the tasks. Chad had the most points at 5, and was the clear winner. Matty had 3 points for cumming first, but no points for the results of his fruitless work on Jimmy, who'd cum last. Jeremy had 2 points for making Chad cum second, and a point for cumming 3rd himself, making a total of 3 as well. And Jimmy, poor Jimmy, had only a point for making Jeremy cum, and nothing at all for cumming last. So Chad made the first pick of tasks to do on Courtney. It was a tough choice, because there was a lot to be said for the opportunity to lather Courtney's pert boobs with soap, but in the end there was only one choice --to wash her front from the waist down. He might not get the chance to handle a girl's privates that freely again any time soon. Jeremy and Matty were tied, but Mrs. Git awarded first choice to Matty on the grounds that he'd cum first and that was more important than making the other guy cum. Jeremy had started to protest, but then Matty had chosen Courtney's butt for his target, and Jeremy, who'd wanted her tits anyway, quieted down. And of course that left Jimmy with wiping Courtney's pussy and butt on the toilet and then starting the soaping process in the tub with her hair and back.

"Sit up and spread your legs wide, Courtney!" her mother suddenly ordered. With a start, Courtney sat up and reluctantly spread her legs. Jimmy collected a healthy handful of toilet paper and approached her, his eyes on her wide open crotch.

"Hold still, Sweety," he said mockingly. "Just lay back and relax and let Uncle Jimmy clean up your little hookie!"