The Orphanage Boys Chapter 17
by Chadlad

copyright 2009 by Chadlad, all rights reserved
[email protected]

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This story is intended for ADULTS ONLY It contains explicit depictions of sexual activity involving minors. If you are not of a legal age in your locality to view such material or if such material does not appeal to you, do not read further, and do not save this story.
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Chapter 17: Seventeenth Floor: Soaps and Lotions

"What?" the blond asked, looking confused.

"Check to make sure there's no one on the girls' side," the brunet ordered. The other girl headed off. Jake, gradually growing more panicked despite the fact he was still shivering with cold, watched the brunet warily over his shoulder, trying to carefully keep his crotch faced away from her. In seconds the other girl was back.

"It's empty," she said. "It's just us here."

"Good," the brunet said. "That means these two little pricks are completely at our mercy, and they'll have to do what we say. "Cause if they don't, all we have to do is turn them over to Mother Superior. She hasn't caned a boy in weeks, I'm sure she's just dying for another chance." She scanned slowly over Jake's and Sam's bare butts again. "Believe me, you two don't want to feel her cane, not on bottoms like yours that are already a mess."

To Jake's chagrin, she slowly, deliberately reached out and placed the flat of her hand on his bare right butt cheek, moving closer and gently cupping, then slowly kneading the tortured flesh, feeling his welts and blisters. She squeezed, and he gasped and bit his lip over his shaking with cold. Somehow, instead of numbing the pain, the cold made his sore butt hurt more.

"No, you little pricklets don't want that," she said again. "Have you ever seen a boy get caned?" she asked, her eyes glowing. "It's not pretty. Especially not when they're bare. It makes red, bulging lines that run right across your bottom," she added. "Every movement you make afterward hurts. Just last month, Freck and I saw a 16-year-old twice your size blubbering like a big baby after 4 on the bare, and begging for mercy! Not that we were supposed to watch. We girls were supposed to be at the laundry. But Freck and I doubled back, and no one missed us." She grinned at her own cleverness as the aforementioned Freck returned to report that the other room was empty. "I was telling them about Ryan's caning last month. Too bad he just sagged to the ground afterward – now if he'd turned 'round, that would have been a real education, right, Freck? Admit it, you'd really like to have seen that."

"We shouldn't have been there," the other girl replied. "And you shouldn't tell people! What if they tell on us! What would Mother Superior do if she knew?"

"Who'd believe them? Don't be such a Nervous Nelly," the other girl said. "It's not like we saw anything bare but his behind!" She looked at Jake with a level expression. "And they don't look that much different back there then girls – just not as round. He was tied down on the horse by the time we got back," she said. "And they had his boy stuff tucked up under him, so she wouldn't get it with the cane, I guess. So we didn't get to see nothin'. Not really."

The other girl blushed. "Don't mind her," the brunet said. "She's just shy. I don't think she's ever seen what boys have down there, not even little boys like you." Her smile became broader. "So maybe it's time we showed her." She stepped back. "You're both pretty good sized – I bet you've got big ones. So turn around!" she suddenly snapped. "Let's show Freck what a big boy has!"

The blond girl frowned at her partner's last statement. "I don't... could you please stop calling me that?" she said, shifting gears quickly. "You know I don't like it."

"Can't be helped, that's what everyone calls you," the brunet said. The blond wrinkled her nose, which was indeed covered with freckles, as were her quite fetching cheeks. "I can't call you something different from what everyone else calls you, can I?"

"But you're the one who called me that to start with," Freck protested.

"Well, I couldn't very well call you Mary, now, could I?" the brunet retorted. "We have, what? About a thousand Marys?"

"But I hate..." the blond girl began, but the brunet cut her off.

"Didn't I say to turn around, you little pricks?" the brunet barked at the boys. She waved the Mother Superior's orders near Jake's face. "This says we can punish you if you disobey us, up to and including spanking your little red behinds until they're black and blue. And I can spank boys hard, I've done it before! I have a prick of a little brother just like you two. Maybe you know him – his name is Tommy – Tommy Delaney? Before we came to this shithole I used to blister his buns regularly for him – you can ask him all about it next time you see him. Tell him big sis says 'hi.' Ask him if his behind still hurts from all the spankings I gave him. As him if he still misses the toilet when he pees, while you're at it."

An image of a long-faced, lanky lad slightly taller than Jake came into his mind, a boy with a very small nose, a weak jaw, and a lean butt who bunked about half way between Jake and Sam's bunks and Flip's more prestigious corner. The boy was striking in another way as well – he had an oddly shaped penis that was exceptionally narrow and slightly longer than Jake's but shorter than Sam's, and that turned up at the end even when soft. The sudden upward curve was much more pronounced in the mornings, when the boy had a piss hard-on. Jake couldn't help but notice the odd upward twist because the boy's pee slit was too high on the tip of his penis, too, so that when he peed the piss came out at an odd, upward angle, and he had to struggle to aim it. The girl saw the recognition in his face. "You do know little brother, don't you!" she exclaimed happily. 'Tommy Wrong-Way Wee-Wee,' I always called him. Tommy Wee-Wee for short. He hated it," she added. She glanced down at Jake's bared butt again as he and Sam still cowered against the wall, hiding their genitals, then back up to his face.

"I'll bet yours is bigger than little bro's," she said. "His is a joke. So turn around already so we can all see. Don't try my patience – Tommy Wee-Wee can tell you exactly what happens when you try my patience. It involves a great deal of pain when sitting afterward. Or standing, for that matter. And a lot of crying like a big baby, too."

Jake's mind, racing in all directions, sought wildly for some sort of escape, but there was none. Sam, his heart also now racing, broke first. He slowly turned, still shaking with cold, until he was facing the two girls. His penis, shriveled tiny in the cold, barely poked its hooded head out above the corrugated patch that was his scrotum, pulling his balls tight to his groin in an attempt at warmth. The blond's eyes widened as she looked immediately at Sam's crotch, studying it intensely and curiously.

"You, too," the brunet snapped. "Unless you'd like me to get Mother Superior over here with her cane right now." Jake, heart thudding, turned slowly until his crotch was in view of both girls. The blond shifted her eyes from Sam's crotch to his. Then, suddenly, she burst into a fit of giggles. She tried to stifle her giggles with a hand, but only managed to trigger another round of even louder giggling that almost made her double over. She shifted her gaze back to Sam's crotch, but that only triggered even more giggling. Jake's self-esteem plummeted like a torn balloon. Being seen naked by girls was bad enough, but having them laugh uproariously at your genitals was far worse. He found himself wishing his dick was hard instead of shriveled like a tiny, frightened animal hiding in a lair. The blond girl, who Jake had started thinking of as Mary and not the awful name "Freck," fought to choke down here now unrestrained laughter. The brunet just stood watching, smirking sardonically and shifting her gaze from crotch to face to crotch to face and then back again. After almost a minute, the blond, Freck, managed to stifle her outburst well enough to talk.

"That's it?" she said, snorting in a most unladylike fashion. "That little thing is what you boys make such a big deal about?" she added, before dissolving into giggles again. Another 30 seconds passed, 30 seconds during which the brunet smirked and the other girl giggled and Jake wondered if he'd die of embarrassment. His hands twitched, fighting the urge to cover himself from her derision. He'd been embarrassed multiple times in the last few days, but never had he felt quite so inadequate. And somehow it mattered – for some strange reason he'd wanted to impress this attractive girl, had wanted her to look at him with something like interest or maybe awe. But not like this, not with belly-shaking laughter. He shifted uncomfortably, suddenly ashamed of his genitals. Finally, the blond straightened up again and stifled her giggling. Sorry," she said. "I just didn't think they would be so- so- so tiny!" she protested. She tried to look serious, but with a loud snort she dissolved back into uncontrolled giggling again.

"She's right," the brunet said. "You guys have got wee-wee's like hamsters," she said. "Wee is the proper word for them. Surprised you can find them without a magnifying glass. And look at their crotches, Freck — both bald as toddlers. Not a single hair between you, balls you can hardly see, baby dicks. We got ourselves a pair of dickless wonders here, Freck," she said, her voice cutting and merciless.

Sam was inspired to protest. "Jake had hair, really – but that mean nun pulled it all out with pliers. And we're just as big as the other boys," he muttered to the floor. "Down there. We're just as big as the other guys who don't have hair yet. Bigger than some. And we're as big as your brother. "

"No you're not," the brunet said dismissively. "Not even close. I've never seen his get this small, even when I spanked him. Don't think this is what real boys look like, Freck. Real boys have wieners that look like, well, wieners. Big, thick wieners. Not Vienna sausages. A real boy would put you all to shame. Well, enough of this nonsense. Our instructions are to wash you and dry you and put liniment on you and then settle you both into bed into a position where you can heal. Now let's see." She consulted the neatly written piece of paper. "The first thing is that we're supposed to wash your bottoms with the special lye soap so you don't get infected. It may sting a bit – Mother Superior said whichever one of us did it had to wear gloves to protect our hands. I can just imagine how it will feel on your blistered little bottoms."

"We'll be gentle," Freck said encouragingly.

"No, we won't," the brunet said. Freck looked about to protest, but the brunet held the paper up in front of her. "See here," she said, pointing. "She says to be thorough, not gentle. And I, for one, am not giving Mother Superior any reason to use that cane of hers on me."

"Me, neither," the blond said. "I ain't never been spanked, nor paddled, nor nothing," she said. She handed the gloves in the basin to the brunet. "You wash them, then," she said. "I'll do the liniment."

"You just want to feel them up, get a little sausage on your hands without the soap getting in your way," the brunet retorted. "A very little sausage," she added with a smirk at the boys' crotches. "Tell you what," she said. "We'll trade off. I'll do the redhead. You get the one with the smaller dick." Jake blushed even redder at his slightly smaller penis size in comparison to Sam being referenced once again. There was a time, not long ago, when his penis size didn't matter, when only he and Jake, and maybe their moms, knew such private things. But not any more, it seemed. "We'll do the same thing with the liniment," the brunet added."

"Now who wants to get her hands on stuff?" the blond retorted. But she kept the gloves, sliding them onto slender but rough hands, hands that clearly were used to manual labor. Jake remembered that the girls older than 13 worked in the laundry or on the farm or were contracted out to local farmers and businesses. Hadn't one of them mentioned something about the laundry? If they spent all day with soaps and washboards, that would explain the roughened hands.

The girl had finished gloving up. Her partner watched, smiling, but with a smile that held a hint of malice. She very slowly and deliberately crossed her arms and then let her eyes slide meaningfully up and down Sam's naked body, reminding him that he was hers in just moments. Sam cringed under her gaze and diverted his eyes to the other girl, who was poking about in basin. In seconds she extracted a hard, gritty-looking bar of soap, and then turned the cold shower head on briefly to wet the soap. She began softening it in her gloved hands, working it expertly like she was used to doing this. "Mother Superior makes it herself," she said to Jake solemnly. "She mixes sand in with it to give it scrubbing power. It's kind of rough on the bare skin. Squatted down at Jake's side, leaning over to study his butt. "You're awful sore back here," she said. I'll start with the front first. "That way when I do your backside it won't have so long to burn before I can rinse you."

"Press hard," the brunet said. "Remember the Mother's instructions. Work up a good lather. We're supposed to scrub the sin out of you two," she added, her smile definitely showing malice now.

The blond gave her a look, but then she put a firm hand in the small of Jake's back and shifted her crouch so that she was looking almost cross-eyed at his still hiding penis. She lifted her other hand and began applying the soap to his soft, bare pubic triangle, directly above the even softer, more vulnerable boy parts, and began scrubbing him gently.

Jake was struck immediately by how coarse and gritty the soap was, almost like sandpaper on his skin. The blond girl stayed above his genitals to start with, turning in skin of his groin pink and leaving it glistening and tingling almost pleasantly. Then, pausing a moment, she quite deliberately moved the soap down to his thighs and scrubbed them, patting his legs one at a time with her free hand to urge him to spread his feet farther apart, so she could move her hand between his thighs and coat his inner flanks. Her gloved fingers brushed his tight sack as she did, and then she moved the soap up to the wrinkled skin and directly attacked his genitals, running the soap in a circle around his balls, then up until her circles included his little knob of a penis, hooded and hunkered down, trying in vain to avoid all this unpleasantness. Her circling hand made his penis move in a circle itself as she chased it round and round his crotch. It felt like he was being gently sandpapered, and the tip of his penis, around the pee-slit, began tingling immediately, a tingle that increased until it was a gentle and then increasingly stronger burn. The stimulation made him harden almost instantly, his penis climbing out of his crotch second by second to extend out to its full almost 3 inches, hardening more as the tip burned more brightly. The friction of the soap started feeling good on the shaft, even as the burning in the tip reached the point of pain.

"Well, howdy!" the brunet snorted. "Look, Freck! Look what came out to play! Maybe these two aren't totally without possibilities after all!"

The blond girl paused, then gently brushed the now rock-hard, slightly upward curving pole sticking out of the boy's midsection with her gloved other hand. She gave it a tentative squeeze. "It's so hard," she said, her voice showing some of the interest Jake had been hoping for earlier. "But it's still awfully tiny," she added, crushing his self-esteem before it had even started to rise. She went back to circling his genitals, swiping the soap down first one side of his penis, then the other.

Jake had begun to twitch a bit, his hands flexing as the burning of his pee-slit and the tip of the head of his prized organ continued to intensify. "It hurts!" he finally complained.

"Your bottom?" the blond girl asked. She poked his penis tentatively and watched, apparently mesmerized, as it snapped back to horizontal, bouncing in ever tighter loops until settling down again to pulsing with his rapid heartbeat.

"No, not that – my – there!" he pointed to the tip of his penis, stepping in place in agitation, now desperate for relief from the still rising burning sensation. "It HURTS!"

"Probably burns his little thingy," the brunet said dismissively. "Lye soap is like that. Can't be helped. Go ahead and do his bottom. With all the blisters he has there, that'll give him something else to think about." She turned to a wide-eyed, increasingly nervous Sam. "Then it'll be your turn."

She turned back to the blond. "And press harder on his bottom," she added. "Like Mother Superior said."

Jake was dancing a jig due to the combined fact that he was still freezing from the cold water evaporating off of him, and the tip of his penis was on fire. Yet, somehow, the burning that spread out from his pee hole was intensifying a throbbing erection, so that his penis stood out in front of him, the foreskin mostly retracted, the head swelling with each thump of his heart, the shaft wobbling almost comically as he twitched and wiggled in discomfort. Looking down at himself, he saw, to his distress that the tip of his dick was bright red now with irritation, the tight slit at the tip an almost glowing red line. Inside him, other boy parts, sore from overuse during the last 24 hours, ached and throbbed in sympathy. Yet this seemed to make his erection and increase his urgency to do – well, to do something. Something like peeing, but more powerful, more satisfying. He thought about peeing now, but the burn that now encompassed the entire tip of his dick made him doubt that would be a good idea.

"It hurts!" he complained again, almost in tears. "Get it off! IT HURTS!"

"This'll hurt worse," the brunet said calmly. "Freck, do his bottom."

The blond girl placed a hand tentatively in the flat place on Jake's belly just above his bobbing genitals and leaned over his back, resting the soap on his still dripping buttocks. Slowly she began rubbing the soap over the boy's sore-looking, welted posterior. Jake yelped and squeezed his buns tightly as the BB blisters came alive with a suddenness that took him by surprise. He tried to move away from her pressing hand, and she pressed harder on his stomach, trying to hold him.

"Push harder, Freck!" the brunet ordered, her eyes glistening with excitement as she watched. "Take him by the handle to hold him still, and press harder!"

The blond, distracted by the handful the boy had become with his violent twitching and clenching, didn't think, she just obeyed, grabbing the boy's bobbing, rock hard penis in her left hand and gripping it tightly. The boy's gyrations diminished abruptly to tight shivers as his dick was enclosed and trapped. It felt like a vice was squeezing him in his most sensitive place, and, coupled with the burning sensation of the tip, the effect was oddly unbearable and arousing at the same time. He clapped both hands over the hand that was squeezing his dick so hard, gripping it tightly and trying to dislodge it from his throbbing little pole, but the only effect was to make the girl grip him harder.

Meanwhile, the soap that was circling his bare, welted butt was making the myriad blisters, welts, and bruises come alive in chorus. A pulsing series of contractions began originating somewhere inside him and traveling down his dick, making him nudge urgently against the gripping hand, yet at the same time tears began trickling down his downy cheeks as the combination of pleasure/pain became too much to bear. He began moaning in rhythm, barely noticing when the girl's strong hand forced his buttocks apart and began rubbing the scratchy soap against his anus, but when she shifted to the skin below the effect was electric. He whooped and clenched his butt so tightly that he forced her hand and the bar of soap back out again, going up on his toes with the effort of it as pain from the needle track between his legs, so close to the base of his penis, sent out its own sharp signals, signals that combined with the burn at the tip of his penis and the burning now all over his butt, and the insistent pleasure inside his hard dick. And then he was having what could only be described as a pain orgasm – a mixture of intense pain that enveloped genitals and buttocks and converged into his center, where it erupted again as waves of release and pressure and, yes, even pleasure, except the pleasure was overlain by pain, dominated by pain, and he moaned loudly, shivering, every muscle in his body tensed, then collapsed against her, panting giving way to full-fledged, big-boy bawling now that the insistent contractions in his lower body diminished.

"Id Hurds! ID HURRRRDDDS!" he moaned through his crying, only barely coherent. "GED ID OFFFFFF! GED IT OFFFFFFF!"

"Give me the gloves and the soap," the brunet ordered. "And you can let go of his thingy now, too. And I suppose you could rinse him now. Maybe it will shut him up."

The blond set down the soap, stripped off the gloves, and handed them to the brunet. Sam, standing beside her on shaky legs, looked like he was on the verge of bolting as he watched Jake dance and shake and cry loudly, his now softening little penis bobbing and flopping in all directions as he did, an effect that he would have found comical if Jake hadn't been in such distress, and he hadn't been the next target. Jake was gripping his buns with one hand and his penis with the other as he danced, tears streaming down his cheeks, snot bubbling from his nose. The blond, fumbling with the water tap, got the shower head flowing full force, and she trained it on Jake's bright-red, orgasm-distended penis tip from close range. Jake's cries ceased abruptly and he gasped, unable to breathe for the moment as the cold water struck him in his most private area. He backed away, but came up against the wall quickly, where he cowered against the cold tile wall, trying now to block the spray of water from his genitals with both hands, while the blond girl tried equally hard to find an angle to spray the now flopping, sausage-like appendage.

"Hold still so I can get that nasty stuff off your—your thingy!" the aptly named Freck complained, moving the shower from one side of his squirming body to another as he scrambled to avoid the icy streams. Finally, in exasperation, she reached out with her bare hand, batted his hands aside, and gripped his dick by the root with a finger and thumb, gripping just like a boy masturbating himself but much harder, so that to Jake it felt rather like a band of iron had been clamped around the base of his organ. Squeezing hard to hold him still, she sprayed her shower head directly at the red, inflamed tip. Jake gasped and shuddered, squealed and tried to pull away but found himself immobilized by her vice-like grip on his most delicate part.

Sam, meanwhile, found himself seized firmly by the other girl, who crouched, pressed her front against the back of his legs and put her left arm around his middle before taking the soap and grinding it roughly into his crotch, pressing harder that the blond girl had pressed on Jake. To Sam, it felt like she was trying to press right through his body as she rubbed the grainy soap over his flaccid, barely projecting dick and his tightly pulled up balls, making the former tingle and the latter ache. In moments, the welts at the base of his scrotum were throbbing in pain, and the tip of his dick began burning, the pee slit feeling like someone was inserting a knife there. He began protesting wildly, but to no avail, as she scrubbed up and down on his genitals rather than the more pleasant round and round motion Freck had used on Jake. After what seemed like an eternity to Sam, she finished with her scrubbing of his boy parts to her satisfaction and then immediately shifted position, yanking his now swelling, burning dick with her free hand to force him around to where she could turn her attention to his butt. Sam struggled to pull his dick free, prying at her much stronger fingers with both his hands, but she just squeezed harder, meanwhile wasting no time in forcing her hand and the intrusive soap between his slick buns and grinding it against his asshole, awakening an intense burning there as well, and bringing the needle track between his legs so strongly to life it felt like he was being impaled once again, with an even bigger needle. Sam tried to clench his buns but she was too strong for him, forcing the welted but still velvet soft skin with it's lean muscle underneath apart and continuing to assault his already violated butt hole. Like Jake before, him, Sam broke then, settling into a whooping kind of bawling as he wiggled and squirmed and fought to no avail, and his butt hole got sandpapered mercilessly.

The brunet smiled then in nostalgia – both boys reminded her so much of her brother and the times she would care for him, washing him in the tub like a little boy even though he protested that he was 12 already and shouldn't be treated that way, disciplining him with her hand and that lovely toy paddle of his, and once even her mother's old hairbrush, loving the solid feel of his soft buns as she struck them with her bare hands, the meaty smack the paddles made, and the tensing and clenching he did that let her know she was doing well by him. She'd loved his little spanking dance afterward, his little wiener flopping just like the other boy's was flopping right now, all modesty forgotten in his after-spanking distress.

Yes, those had been good times, times they were closer than two siblings ever were. Times that ended when those nosy government people insisted on poking in and claiming she was unfit to care for her little brother on her own. Hell, that was such a crock of shit. She'd taken care of him just fine—had fed him and gotten him to school, and made sure he did his homework and took baths and the whole nine yards. And she'd spanked him, too. She had to admit she'd gotten pleasure from that. He was so contrite afterward – they'd cuddle, she'd soothe his sore bottom, and he'd promise to be a better brother...

It was from her little brother, Tommy Wrong-Way Wee-wee, that she'd learned the trick of holding boys still during discipline or other unpleasant situations by grasping them tightly by the cock. It certainly made little Tommy sit up and take notice! Struggle though he might, there was nowhere he was going while she was gripping his most prized bit tightly between thumb and forefinger. And afterward, if he'd taken his spanking well, she could easily reward him by shifting her grip into a gentler one, letting her thumb circle the velvety tip of his little tool until he stiffened and humped the air and then, blushing and subdued, thanked her and went off to his room to nurse his sore spots. Or nurse his little wrong-way wee-wee into another dry orgasm. He always thanked her, she had seen to that. In fact, it had been an easy lesson he'd learned at once. Early on, after she'd spanked him and given him his treat, he had tried to slink away without expressing his appreciation of all her efforts on his behalf. But all she'd had to do was to reach out and grip that orgasm-sated little dangler of his, whip him over her knee, and paddle him with the oval hairbrush of her mother's that she'd thoughtfully put aside in case she'd need it. Being paddled on an already red, well-spanked bottom had made him a very contrite little boy who readily thanked her that time even thought he had gone without his treat that time, as an additional punishment. She still remembered vividly the bright red patches she'd made on both his lean buns, blistered patches of dark red surrounded by bright red, sore skin.


She might have gone on forever that way if the nosy social worker hadn't come by to poke into their business, just because her signature on her mother's relief check didn't match the one they had on file in the eyes of that equally nosy bank teller. And after she'd practiced forging it so carefully, too! Not to mention the fact that she'd been in the process of thoroughly reddening little Tommy Wee-wee's butt when the woman arrived, and she hadn't heard the woman approached because Tommy was, as usual, filling the air with what she called his "big boy bawling." And if she hadn't just been lifting Tommy off her lap with her grip on his penis when the woman walked into the living room unannounced, as wel...

She ground the soap even harder into the welted butt of the little red-headed prick she was holding with that familiar grip to his privates. It did feel like old times again. But this wasn't Tommy, and she felt less empathy for what he was suffering. Tommy Wee-wee didn't get hard down there when he was spanked – it was often difficult to coax him into hardness for some time afterward as well. Fear, initially, but later intense pain made him soft and pliant during punishment. This kid, though, like the other one Freck had dealt with, was rock hard and throbbing, the way Tommy only got afterward, when receiving his treat. Hadn't Mother Superior said they were some sort of pervert kids? They certainly were living up to that image. Well, Freck hadn't been firm with hers, but this one wasn't getting a treat! Bearing down on the throbbing little penis in her hand, she squeezed with all her might. At the same time, she pressed between the tight, welted, clenched buns with the scratchy, abrasive soap, scrubbing almost hard enough to take skin off. The muscular, boyish butt cheeks yielded, and she had the soap against the inner cleft once again. With a determination that seized her entire being, she ground the scratchy, now very small sliver of soap against the boy's already red, sore anus, feeling the abused muscle given and tremble under her fingers pushing tightly against it, seeking to enter. And as the boy squealed and fought, and she gripped his penis so hard the tip began purpling and the pee slit opened into an "o" that was shockingly red inside, she forced sliver into a lump, and the pressed the lump right into the center of his soap-lubricated, what Tommy Wee-wee had called his "dookie-hole." As he gasped and opened his mouth to squeal more loudly, she followed it with her index finger, driving the digit right up the soap-lubricated passage as far as it would go into the moist heat of his insides, pushing the small lump of soap ahead of it. The she withdrew her hand finger, let his butt cheeks close again, and let go of his now fully erect and purple penis.

The effect on Sam was electric. As Jake cowered against the wall, trying to avoid the cold water aimed alternately at his burning genitals and buttocks, Sam rose to his toes, clenching his butt, digging at his buttocks with both hands. He began bouncing around the tiled area, howling, squatting and poking between his buns, then extending full length again up to his toes over and over as he tried to find a way to drive the burning heat out of his rectum and away from this throbbing little pecker, which had curved up to point at his stomach tightly, the tip an angry, sore red. Around the brunet he hopped, begging incoherently, pawing at his butt, even digging fingers into this swollen butt hole, which could be seen each time he squatted between jumps. Each intrusion sent him to clenching and jumping again between pawing sessions. Jake, the burning finally starting to cool again thanks to the thorough rinsing the other girl was giving him, had stopped vocalizing his distress and was cowering, shivering, against the wall, letting the girl spray him wherever she wished. She was focusing on his floppy little orgasm-distended penis at the moment, fascinated by the way it shifted and deformed as the powerful spray pounded on his crotch. She was so intent that she wasn't even distracted by the hopping, protesting Sam. Finally tiring of watching his penis, though, she prodded Jake with her free hand. "Turn around and bend over," she ordered. "So I can wash the rest of it off your bum-bum." When Jake just stood there, shivering, she prodded him again. "You don't want it to keep burning back there, do you?"

Shaking violently with cold and thus feeling now shame at such a lewd exposure of himself for the moment, Jake complied, turning around and bending down, resting his hands just above his knees on crooked arms. To the girl's delight, his bottom opened readily, and with his legs apart as they were, she got a supreme view of the boy's scrotum, the fat tip of his hooded penis, and his anus. She began playing the water over this new, fascinating area of his anatomy. It was the first time she'd ever really looked at a boy from back there (she had not Tommy Wee-wee's in her life to satisfy her curiosity on), and she was intrigued by the way the boy appeared to have a seam running down from anus to scrotum where she knew she was open. The boy's anus fascinated her, too, and she shivered with the naughtiness of looking at that forbidden spot.

Sam, yelping and bouncing, finally fetched up against the tiled wall next to the toilet. Arching his back and climbing on his toes, he squealed like a pig being castrated and clenched his butt so hard that his butt cheeks went white with the strain. The soap that had been crammed up his butt shot out of him like a little bottle rocket, bouncing once and then settling by Jake's spread feet. Sam put both hands to his buns and pushed hard, trying to press the burn out from his rectum and squealing incoherent words. The brunet watched him with an amused quirk to her mouth. She glanced back to the bent over Jake, panting and miserable as the water played over his spread, exposed butt crack and his little balls, bulging back between his legs. "Give me the wand and dry the little prick," she said. "If I don't rinse this other little prick pretty quick he's going to have a conniption fit."

Freck, the blond, didn't exactly know what a conniption fit was, only that Kath was always referring to people having one, mostly nuns and other girls their age or older, and mostly when Kath had done something provoking and inadvisable. She handed the still flowing shower head to the brunet, who immediately began playing it over Sam, enjoying his reaction to the icy cold spray (The orphanage pumped its own water from a well, so it was very cold indeed. The blond retrieved a towel from the pile on the toilet and turned to Jake. "Ohh, yuck," she commented as she picked it up. "This feels like a horse blanket – you know, the scratchy ones," she said to her partner.

Jake found himself being toweled off with what felt like sandpaper, or perhaps a blanket that has gotten a bunch of sharp, pointed grass seeds stuck in the weave. He twisted and turned helplessly while the girl smothered him in the blanket, making him feel itchy all over by the time she was done. Moments later, the brunet finished hosing off the wriggling, protesting Sam, and it was his turn to have his skin scoured with the thin material. His rectum continued to burn like fire, and so did his penis tip, the slit still feeling like a knife was going in it. He shivered and tried to dry his crying as Jake had done while the brunet toweled him, spending extensive amounts of time working on his crotch, rolling his now flaccid genitals around with the rough cloth and enjoying Sam's facial expressions as she did, then toweling his bottom much more roughly than the other girl had toweled Jake's, appearing to be deliberately irritating the welts on the boy. Finally she tired of this game, though. "Up on the beds, boys," she ordered. "Take the two bunks right in front of the windows, so anyone passing by can see you," she added. She shook her head as Jake started to lie down on his side. "Not that way, you little prick. Up on all fours, head down, bottom in the air. And spread those legs wide. You need to air all your blisters out for awhile. Mother Superior's orders. Push back more, so your bottom opens. Yes, just like that. But spread your legs more – we should be able to se everything you've got from behind if you do it right."

Shortly, Jake and Sam found themselves in a position much like they'd been while serving as targets for the angry girls – butts in the air, legs spraddled apart too wide for comfort, heads against pillows cradled in their arms, pillows that both of them were holding against their mouths at the moment, because both were getting horse liniment rubbed into their sore hindquarters, and they'd been ordered to "keep your whining to a minimum or we'll shove it up your ass." The blond-haired Freck was working on Jake, rubbing the thick, viscous, Vaseline-textured cream into Jake's butt cheeks, while at the same time the brunet, Kath, was rubbing the same liniment into Sam's welts and sore spots. Worse, yet, they'd been positioned with their butts toward the big windows, so anyone who got close to the building would be treated to a full-on view of all their privates, both front and back.

"Get between his cheeks, too," Kath ordered Freck. "And don't be afraid to rub it into his hole, and all over his bag, too. Everywhere there's welts, Mother Superior said in her note. Even his baby boy thing, if you can find it."


"So what are you two called?" Freck said cheerfully, making Jake wince as she worked her fingers into the welts lining both sides of the puckered line of Jake's abuse-tightened asshole.

"I-I-I'm Jake," Jake mumbled into his pillow. He was acutely conscious of his nudity. It was hard to imagine this scene even though it was happening – a girl, a cute girl, was rubbing her fingers right over his asshole – right over where he pooped! As if it was the most normal thing in the world! "He-he's S-S-Sam," he added as she moved off his butt hole and down to the sensitive skin between his legs. She pressed on his shot track and he winced.

"They're kind of cute," Freck said to Kath. Jake's spirits rose. "In a little–boy kind of way, of course," she added, sending his spirits plunging again.

"They're little pigs," Kath retorted, pressing hard enough on Sam's butt hole that her fingers slipped in up to the first knuckle. "All little boys are pigs. The big ones, too." Sam stiffened as the liniment, already making his butt glow with heat, began reawakening the heat he'd just felt from the lye soap in his rectum. Kath, seeing his discomfort, slid her finger into him up to the second knuckle, twisted it back and forth several times, then withdrew it.

Jake was having a different experience. It actually felt kind of good to have the girl run her fingers over his most private areas, especially now that she was gently rubbing the surface of his scrotum, feeling his balls but not pressing hard enough to hurt, only to make them shift in the sack. Her fingers strayed to the base of his penis as she did, and he found himself getting hard again.

Sam, on the other hand, felt sudden heat rising again inside his rectum as the liniment began stimulating him there. At the same time, Kath began massaging liniment into his bare balls hard enough to press them deep into the fatty cushion of his pubis, reawakening the ache caused by the BB hits he'd endured. He gave a sqealing cry and began sobbing into his pillow.

"You're hurting him!" Freck protested. "You made him cry!"

"He's just being a baby," Kath responded. "I'm doing what Mother Superior said, putting liniment on his welts."

"You don't have to push so hard," Freck retorted. "And you don't have to put your finger up.. up there. In that place."

"You mean up his little shitter?" Kath said, giving a mocking laugh. "Yes I do," she added. "Mother Superior said liniment on all his welts, and he has welts there."

"Well, mine doesn't," Freck said. "And I'm not putting my finger in there, anyway. It's probably got, you know, in it." She continued working liniment into the shaft of Jake's penis. Jake, despite the fact that he could have died in embarrassment at that moment, noted somewhere in the back ofhis mind that this felt seriously good. But she moved off of there and shifted back to the surface of his butt moments later.

Kath, on the other hand, was massaging Sam's little balls extra hard, now, enjoying the feel of the rubbery orbs grinding into his pubic bone. She then shifted her hand and circled his penis with her fist, spreading liniment on all sides of the soft, short little member, then squeezed hard and let it run between her fingers so that it stretched out as she did and liniment coated all sides. She squeezed even harder as she got to the tip, pulling down until the boy's penis was stretched longer than its normal 3 inches before letting go, the skin joining it to his body stretching painfully as she did. Sam, shaking his little butt, continued crying into his pillow.

"Shut up," Kath ordered, leaning over to speak loudly into his ear, like a drill sergeant screaming into the ear of a new recruit. "Unless you want me to rub some of that into the slit of your baby wee-wee as well."

Sam fought to control his crying. Jake, feeling foolish with his butt in the air, glistening with liniment and glowing with heat, felt powerless to help his beleaguered friend. He wished the girl would stop rubbing his butt and go away. But he also wished she'd mover her hand back to his penis and stay there a seriously long time. While we was debating this, the girl stopped rubbing him and wiped her hand on the towel, then tossed it to the other girl and she took it and stopped torturing Sam as well. The girls moved off to the other side of the room and began mopping up the water that had sprayed everywhere. Or, rather, Freck started mopping, while Kath stood supervising.

"You too will stay right there, in that position, until I tell you different," Kath, the brunet, called at them from across the room. "Don't even think of lowering those butts."

"But what if we have to pee?" Sam suddenly whined, his voice full of tears and fear.

"Why, you gotta take a piss?" Kath challenged back.

"No," Sam said to his pillow. "But what if we do? Or a poo?"

"Then we'll get a bed pan and hold it under you," Kath replied. "But you don't move from there. Mother Superior says you've got to heal."

"Yeah, you've got to heal," her companion agreed, wringing the mop out over the drain. "That's what Mother Superior said."

Sam raised his head from the pillow and looked over his shoulder, to the bright outside that was just the other side of the window behind him. "But...but... What if there's people outside! They'll see us! Naked! With our butts up and... and everything! I can't... I can't.. I can't..." he finished, trailing off.

"What, shit in front of an audience?" Kath finished. Freck looked at her in surprise and then reproach.

"You shouldn't use the 's' word," she hissed. "It's a sin!"

"What, God doesn't know he shits?" Kath retorted. "God didn't make that little prick of his that makes the piss that he probably sprays in all directions like Tommy did? God doesn't know he's got a hole in his butt for shitting?"

"Kath!" Freck said, appalled.

"Sorry, sweetie," Kath said, not sounding at all sorry. "Sorry if I hurt your virgin ears. How about this? If you little boys need to make a sweet little poo-poo out of your sweet, little poo-poo holes, you'll have to do it right there, in the position you're in. And if there's an audience outside to watch, Freck and I will charge them for tickets. Same thing if you need to make an itty-bitty wee-wee with your itty-bitty wee-wees. There, does that sugar coat it enough for you, Freck?"

"You don't have to be so... so crude!" Freck protested.

"Sure I do. Crude is all little pricks like them understand. And don't let their looks fool you – they may look cute enough to eat, but they're still little pricks. All boys are little pricks – little pricks with pricks. They only understand crude stuff – pissing and shitting and screwing girls like us. Crude stuff like that, and pain. You want a boy's attention, you either beat his butt or pull his prick. Pull it soft enough and often enough, and he'll do anything for you, thinking he'll get to screw you. Pull it hard and he'll beg for mercy. They're just animals. They act like animals, and they smell like animals, and they like going around farting and pissing on things like animals. She turned to the two boys. "Speaking of animals," she said. "Mother Superior told me what they're going to do to you tomorrow. Do you want to know?"

Jake, who'd been trying to figure out what she meant by "screwing girls like us," was taken by surprise and had to consider the question. Did he want to know the punishment that faced him tomorrow, or not? One part of him was eager to know just what they faced next, but other part, the part listening to his throbbing butt, his aching balls, and sore penis, and all his other injuries and remembered injuries was saying that it didn't want to know. While he debated his answer, it all became moot. "Well, I'm not telling you," Kath went on, smirking now. "But believe me, I'm glad I'm not you guys. You've got a bad time ahead of you starting tomorrow morning – you'd best enjoy this respite while you can."

She turned to Freck. "You know something else?" she said. "Something else Mother Superior told me before you got there? You know that girl Sissy, the hillbilly with the missing tooth, the one who's almost 14 but looks like she'd 10? The one who keeps going on report for not working?"

She looked at Jake. "She thinks she'd too good to wash you boy's shit out of your underpants, like washboards were made for other people. What, you didn't know we wash the shit out of your underpants? Who do you think does it, God and the freaking Archangels? You thought your skidmarks just naturally disappear, you little pigs? No, sir! Every butt track you make because you're too lazy to wipe gets washed by hand on a washboard by girls like us! That's how we know what pigs you boys are. We see your skid marks, all of them. And we know who did it – you all have your names on your skivvies, you know! I keep an eye out for Tommy Wee-wee's – box his ears good every time he leaves a track."

She paused and looked at Freck, who was frowning. "What?" she said. "You going to protest about my language again?"

"Sissy," Freck said. "What did Mother Superior say about Sissy?"

"Why, she's no friend of yours," Kath shot back. "She just makes more work for you."

"I know," Freck said. "But that's just my cross to bear."

"Gonna be hers tomorrow," Kath retorted. "Because Mother Superior said the nuns have finally had enough. She's getting it, too. What they're getting. She's getting it with them. Mother Superior said she was going to be an example to all the older girls and boys." The brunet girl turned to Jake and Sam and smiled, a predatory, snake-like smile. "She's getting what you're getting. And it's going to be nasty. Appropriate for little pigs like you, and nasty." She grinned a large, feral grin.

"What?" Freck asked. "What are they all getting?"

"I'm not telling," Kath said. "I'm sick of your holier than thou attitude, so I'm not telling. You're not so great, Freck! Your shit stinks, too.!"

One part of Jake was astonished at the older girls' words, but only one part. The rest was shuddering, cowering in fear at the import of the words he'd just heard. They were in for a bad time tomorrow? Something worse than they'd already experienced? Something a girl was going to experience with them? His mind raced with painful possibilities. What was going to happen to them tomorrow?