The Orphanage Boys Chapter 20
by Chadlad

copyright 2009 by Chadlad, all rights reserved
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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 20: Twentieth floor - Pork Products

You wouldn't think that a boy could sleep with an unknown punishment staring him in the face, but all the worrying that Jake and Sam were doing was apparently exhausting, because before he knew it, Jake was being prodded awake in a bright room with sunlight pouring in the windows. It took him a moment to orient his mind, remember where he was, and then realize that a strange, tall girl was poking him in the tummy, and that he was lying on his back buck naked and uncovered before her amused gaze. Glancing down involuntarily, he realized he had a hard on, driven by powerful pee urgency. He immediately turned over, his sore, well-spanked butt stiff and protesting the sudden movement.

"No need to cover up now, I've already seen it," the girl said cheerfully. "We both have."

Looking over his shoulder, Jake saw a second girl on the other side of the bunk, also smiling at him. She reached over and poked Sam, who was also lying on his back, still asleep, his hard penis curved tightly toward his belly. "Look, he's got a bent one!" the other girl said. "Isn't it cute!" Sam groaned at being poked and came suddenly awake. He froze at seeing the girls, reached both hands toward his hard cock to protect himself from their gaze, and received a hard slap on the hand that had him recoiling in a moment.

"Ow!" Sam protested, nursing his hurt hand.

"No touching!" the girl said. "And no talking, either. Sister Mary Catherine told us! And no potty breaks until we get to where we're going. Now get up! The sooner you're settled, the sooner we can get on with our chores. And you can get on with yours."

"But we're naked!" Jake ventured. "Don't we get clothes?"

Groaning as they stretched their sore gluteal muscles, the boys rolled out of bed and stood, self consciously, arms hanging uselessly at their sides. Jake wanted desperately to rub his butt, to scratch his balls, and to go pee, not necessarily in that order. Catching sight of Sam's butt, he realized that his friend looked quite a bit better today after yesterday's massages of ointment. The ointment had smelled funny and burned, but it apparently helped healing, as Sam's butt was now a rosy hue but not that dusky purple it had been the day before. The pock marks of the BBs had receded so that they were merely little marks, now. The three shot marks on the surface of Sam's butt were visible as small black spots where the surface scab was. Jake wondered what his and Sam's shot down between his legs looked like - it still hurt, he could attest to that from the little twinges that came from between his legs with every movement. Both boys flexed their legs, hard penises extended to their full lengths, in Jake's case bobbing in front of him like a pointer, in Sam's case curved toward his belly, the open foreskin pointed at his head. One of the girls slapped at Jake's penis playfully with her right hand, making it wobble wildly before settling into slightly above horizontal again. "Cute," she said. "They're like little dolls."

"Little dolls with hard peckers," the other girl said. "Come on, let's move it. They have to get the pen ready."

The two boys were ushered out into the early morning light, the sun just peaking over the horizon. Despite the boys' fears of being seen, no one appeared to be out and about, but then, that made sense - the boys and girls their ages and younger would be in their respective showers right now, getting ready for breakfast. The air was cool and made Jake's skin prickle, but his penis, a full bladder pressing behind it, stayed rigid despite the cold, and so did Sam's. The girls aimed them down a path circling the hill toward the farm, walking behind them where they could watch the boys' muscular, bruised bottom-globes work as they propelled the boys forward toward whatever doom awaited them. They circled the barn of yesterday, where they'd been shot in their butts, (and their assholes and balls, too, and in Sam's case, even the dick), and approached a group of smaller buildings on the far side of the barn. The aroma of assorted animal manure and animal smells filled the air. Jake, eyes filled with wonder despite his naked and vulnerable condition, suddenly realized that there were animals in the pens next to the small buildings, some larger than him and Sam, some much smaller, gathered at the feet of the larger ones. It took him, as a city boy, some long moments to realize what he was seeing. "Piggies" he exclaimed, almost delighted despite his fears. "They're piggies!"

"Farrowing sows and their piglets," one of the girls said. She led them to one of the small buildings and unhooked a door, beckoning them inside. Jake started to step forward, out of the cool, comforting grass beside the building and through the door, but he stopped dead in the doorway.

"Ooh, ick!" he exclaimed, looking down in disgust. Just inside the door, the floor of the building was a morass of muck, wet, stinking straw mixed with a soggy, mudlike substance. Ammonia stung his eyes, and the odor was like nothing he'd ever smelled before. Flies were everywhere, and began immediately pestering the boys.

"Get in there this instant," the girl from behind ordered. You'll get used to it in time - we have."

"But..." Jake protested. "You have boots on! We're barefoot."

"Yeah. Too bad about that," the girl said. "But Sister told us you'd had your shots, so you won't get lockjaw even if you cut your foot. So the worst that'll happen is you'll stink, and as far as I'm concerned you both stink, anyway." She turned to the other girl. "These are the little farts, who got caught trying to see our little sisters in the shower!"

The other girl glared, then gave Jake a shove through the door. He fell, catching himself on his palms in the slick, goopy manure mix. He scrambled back to his feet, his hands smeared, his knees covered with clumps of the mud, his face miserable as he regarded himself, his hands held away from his body in distaste. Sam stumbled through the door behind him, his feet sliding down into the mud up past his knobby bare ankles.

"Wipe your stupid hands on your sides or on whatever straw you can find and let's get you to work," the first girl ordered Jake, pointing to some straw that was only partly contaminated.

"What is this stuff?" Sam asked, his face screwed up in disgust. He waved at flies circling his stomach.

"Pig shit," the first girl said arily. "Mixed with pig piss. Compliments of the recently departed former occupants of this pen. You little farts' job is to muck it out so that it'll be ready for its new occupants - they'll be moving in today. So here's what you do. You each take one of these manure forks," she said, pulling grasping one handle and then the other from just outside the door and driving the tines into the muck by the boys' feet. Jake and Sam both jumped involuntarily -- the sharp tines had penetrated the muck much too close to their bare feet for comfort. "And you start at the back, shoveling manure into the wheelbarrow and then wheeling it to the manure pile the other side of the pen just outside that door. The side gate's already open." She pointed to a door on the far end of the pen. The other girl had wheeled a small wheelbarrow into the door behind them as she'd been talking. "You keep working until the pen is clean down to the original mud floor. You'll know it when you see it -- it doesn't have corn in it like pig shit does. That's your work for today. When it's done, you're done. Shouldn't take more than, oh, eight or ten hours to do, even if you work slow, and you little farts look like you work slow. We'll check on you later, and you'd better be working when we do."

"But, we haven't had breakfast!" Sam complained.

"We'll bring your breakfast after we've had ours. We have to eat after the boys, you have to eat after us. Sister doesn't like the sexes to mingle—says it gives us ideas," the first girl said.

"I'll say," the other girl said, eying Jake's hard-on.

"Around here you have to earn your breakfast," the other girl continued, ignoring her. "Same goes with dinner - we eat after the boys, you eat after we've eaten. So you have dinner late. If you're not half done by dinnertime, you don't eat until you're half done. No supper until the pen's cleaned out and ready for the new occupants." She grinned a nasty grin, then pushed a manure fork handle toward Jake. "You want to eat, you work. If you don't work hard enough, you get Sister Magdalene's attention. She likes to give a boy or two a switchin' ever morning at the flag pole at 6 AM assembly as a example to the rest of them. You don't work hard enough, you'll be tomorrow's examples."

"We've seen the bottoms of every boy at the farm," the other girl said. "But that's all," she added sadly. "And they're not as soft as yours are." She reached out and gently ran a hand over Sam's bare flank. Sam flinched, but she continued stroking him, moving to cup the rounded globe, still bearing traces of healing welts and blisters.

"They get it naked?" Jake blurted, forgetting, for the moment, that he and Sam had suffered many naked punishments lately and therefore shouldn't find such a thing surprising.

"Not completely naked," the girl beside him answered. "The sisters would never let us see a boy's front stuff -- might give us unholy ideas. Just their behinds. She ties them to the wall with leather straps, then raises their shirts and pulls their pants down enough in back to bare most of their bottoms. But some of them are quite interesting."

"Joey," the other girl said.

"Yeah, Joey," the girl by Jake echoed. She actually licked her lips, then cleared her throat. "So get to work. You shovel all this shit, or you don't eat."

She looked at the boys, watching them grasp this concept in the gloom. "Any questions?" she asked.

"Um...when do we get to go to the bathroom," Sam asked tentatively.

"Whenever you want," the girl said.

"Um,..." Sam said. "Where is it? I gotta go bad."

"You mean, we gotta go here?" Sam said, his face showing his distress.

"Well, you can't leave from here until you're done," the girl said. "That sorta limits your options. You gotta shit or piss, just squat and let it loose. Oh, yeah, you're boys. You don't even have to squat if you're just pissing."

"Ohh -- ohh--," the other girl said, letting go of Sam's butt and hopping up and down in excitement. "We should make them go now! We should make them go here in front of us!"

The other girl looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, why not!" the other girl said. "We never get to see the boys do it!" She looked at Sam almost conversationally. "They don't have toilets—sister says boys are so uncultured they don't need such things. They do their stuff in the pens. I don't even think they get toilet paper—I don't know what they do about that. Or what you should do about that if you have to go—to go from back there. Just hope it's not messy, I guess. I've never seen them, because they always post guards when one of them has to go. So we never see you guys do it. Except from far away, sometimes, like you'll look across the field, and they'll be lined up facing away, and you can see the arcs, but nothing else..." She turned back to the other girl. "Come on," she said. "I've only ever seen the boy animals go, not real boys. We don't even get to see their things! And these two are already naked, and Sister said to settle them in, and letting them pee is part of settling them in, so..."

"Okay, okay!" the other girl said. She turned her glare toward Jake. "So piss already—we have work to do."

"That's okay," Sam said quickly. Jake was still trying without much success to scrape the largest globs of manure off his hands and knees using only his fingers. He looked up at the girls, his hard penis bobbing in front of him. He wished they'd stop talking about peeing. "We don't have to go that bad," Sam added.

"You can go number 2 if you like, too," the other girl said. "We won't mind. We see lots of animals do it, but not you guys. Look, I even have a tissue you can use as toilet paper."

"We don't have to go," Jake said.

"You lie," the first girl said. "You lie like a rug. Maybe I should throw you onto the floor and walk on you like one, too."

"No, really, we don't have to go," Sam protested.

"This from the boy who was begging for a wee-wee break a minute ago," the more forceful girl said. "You brought it up, now you have to go through with it. Or you have to admit you were lying when you said you have to go?" Her eyes were taking on a strange glint. "I almost hope they are lying," she said. "You know what Sister said we could do if they misbehave."

"No, what?" the other girl said. The first girl rolled her eyes.

"Remember?" she said. "When she sent us to get them?" She gave the girl a not-so-subtle nudge. Jake, still trying to brush filth from his hands, didn't see her movement, and neither did Sam, who was now trying desperately not to piss himself with them watching. The other girl suddenly caught on with a start.

"Oh, yeah," she said with exaggerated intonation. "What she said. What did she say, anyway? Remind me."

"She said we could use the pig slappers on their private parts, remember?" the first girl said. "And their butts, too."

"Yeah, right," the second girl said. "If you don't obey us, we can use the pig slappers on your privates and your butts."

"What's a pig slapper?" Jake asked, giving up on cleaning his hands and now urgently aware that he ought to be listening to this conversation. He felt disgustingly dirty. Flies continued to buzz around him, landing here and there on his body, now attracted to the shit on his knees and hands. He tried to wave them away.

"This is, you ugly little farts," the first girl replied with an air of menace. She reached behind her, pulling something out of the belt of her work shift. It looked like a wooden handle with a thick canvas rectangle attached at one end, drooping down as she held it out for their visual inspection. "We use it to herd the pigs and to keep them under control when we work with them. Allow me to demonstrate." She turned and swung the device through the air, bringing it down hard on an exposed 2 by 4 nailed to the pen wall. The heavy cloth made a loud crack like the snap of a wet towel as it hit the board, and dust puffed out of the board in all directions. "Hogs have tough hides, but this little baby can make even 600 pound boars take notice," she said. "Imagine it on your little boy parts, or your bare behinds." Beside her, the other girl had pulled out her pig slapper and was waving it idly through the air next to Jake's penis. Jake couldn't help flinching each time she moved, but his penis remained hard and throbbing. The first girl stepped over closer Sam.

"So. Were you lying when you said you had to pee, or do you pee now and show us you were telling the truth?" she said.

Sam and Jake both looked at her pleadingly. "Okay," Jake finally said, seeing the girl's determination on her face. Both girls took a step back and crossed their arms, the pig slappers dangling down from their hands, giving the two much more gravitas. Sighing, Jake looked down at his bare crotch, gleaming, smooth, and still clean, unlike his hands, knees, and feet. His penis was pointing straight out, and normally he'd have had to force it down to aim it. Well, no need for that here, and he was forbidden to touch it, anyway. He considered begging for the girls not to humiliate him by making him pee in front of them like a toddler boy performing for his young mother and aunt. No, that would be useless - both girls' eyes were glittering in anticipation.

He focused on his internal sphincters, fighting them to release in this reeking, unfamiliar surrounding. A fly landed on his pulsing penis tip, crawling onto the partially uncovered head, and he bucked his hips irritably to drive it off. More flies landed on his knees, and some landed on his butt, distracting him. Nothing else happened, except that he felt a burning at the base of his penis. He tried harder to relax, fanned the flies off him with a free hand, but his penis did nothing but make little twitches as he tried to release his bladder. The pee urge was painful, burning his sphincter and making him tremble with need. But his bladder refused to let go.

This is stupid, Jake thought to himself. I'm just peeing, that's all. I pee all the time. The girls' intent stares tightened his sphincter more completely. How in the world had he ended up once again being asked to pee in front of girls? Sure, he'd peed with other boys all the time - he and Sam's old grade school had a bathroom with a long trough that all the boys lined up at to pee. He never though anything about it when he was peeing next to another boy, because the other boy was peeing, too, and he he could look right over and see your penis doing its thing, well, you saw his, too, so you were even. Peeing in front of girls was different. He still blushed with humiliation when he thought about his shameful dribbling when he'd been shot in the butt out behind the barn, dribbling that was first hidden by Father McKenzie's little pouches, but became shamefully public when the pouches were removed. And peeing into the bedpan had been humiliating, too, but he'd managed it, mainly because he was hunched over the pan and he was able to hide his head and pretend no one was watching, even though and unfamiliar feminine hand was holding his delicate tool. But here, he was standing up, in full view, and the girls were looking right at him. And his sphincter refused to cooperate.

He couldn't figure out what to do with his pig shit covered hands as he fought his recalcitrant penis. He fanned ineffectually at flies, which buzzed around him continuously, lighting wherever they could. He was forbidden to touch his penis, yet being able to touch it might have helped—he was used to the comfort of his hand as he peed. He felt so vulnerable with his hands at his sides, twitching uselessly as he tried to coax his bladder muscles to relax. Normally his hands would be on his penis when he did this, aiming arrogantly, as little boys do. His penis felt so bare, so vulnerable just sticking out, hard and defiant, pointing at the far wall.

Next to him, Sam suddenly spoke, his voice a squeak. "I—I can't!" he protested. "The big mean nun said we can't touch it. But I gotta. It's pointing -- it's pointing at me!"

"Like you're not going to get piss on you anyway working in here?" the first girl said. "You're getting covered with piss as you clean out the pen. All the boys do. You'll get used to it. And not nice clean piss like that that's going to come out of your dick, either!"

"But -- but it's pointed at my face!" Sam said, his voice a little-boy squeak.

"You can piss that far? I'm impressed," the first girl said. She uncrossed her arms and took a step toward Sam. "We don't have all day. So pee already. Or I'll beat the piss out of you." She raised the pig slapper as if taking aim at Sam's balls, completely bare and visible with his penis turned up to his belly. Sam turned white and his bladder released instantaneously, his pee fountaining up to hit his chest and splash in all directions. Spatters went everywhere, some even landing on his chin and his lower lip. He twisted, getting his face out of the line of fire, but at the same time making his penis sway from side to side so that the power stream of little-boy piss washed his chest from side to side, running down the front of his body in rivulets, trickling down the fronts and sides of his thighs to disappear into the muck at his feet.

The distraction helped Jake, and moments later, his penis also erupted, squirting straight out in front of him. Unfortunately for Sam, he was right across from Jake so his friend's powerful stream splashed over his lower body, soaking his genitals even more, and the spraying gradually downward until it settled into a dribble by Jake's feet. Sam recoiled and tried to step back, but his feet dragged in the muck and he fell backward, his butt landing with a splosh in pig shit. He could feel the malodorous, slimy gunk squeeze between his buns, filling his butt crack. He looked down and saw that his balls were coated in slime as well, his penis spared because it was still pointing at his belly. The two girls burst into uncontrollable laughter.

"That was so nifty!" the second girl said. "It's like the boy dogs."

"Yeah, nifty," the other girl said. "They got hoses they can squirt with. Big deal. Don't forget what those little things are really for, and what they'd like to do with them if they got the chance."

"They're just little boys," the second girl said. But she took a step back, anyway. Sam levered himself out of the muck and looked at the pig manure coating both hands, then twisted and looked at his butt, now a mass of dripping, slimy pig shit. Flies were landing all over his bare ass, crawling in the crack, circling his balls, and creeping along his ass cheeks. He appeared to be near tears.

"Come on, they're settled. We need to get to breakfast," the first girl said. "The boys ought to be out of there by now so we can have our turn. Remember, you little farts, if you haven't done enough when we get back, no breakfast." And then the two girls were gone. Jake, his hands stinking and smeared despite his efforts to clean up, looked at Sam. Sam, the shit on his butt tickling as it dripped down the backs of his thighs, looked at him in despair. Jake took a step, his foot squelching as he, with some effort extracted it from where it had sunk into the muck. "Hey, at least we got to pee," he said. "And no one's spanked us yet today."

Sam looked at him, blinked his wet eyes, then snorted and began giggling. Jake suddenly began giggling, too. "You stink," Jake chortled.

"So do you," Sam retorted. He waved a hand at Jake, and a hunk of pig manure flew from it and hit Jake in the chest. Jake responded by closing the distance between them in a hop, and then putting both his hands deliberately on Sam's bare chest, leaving two smeary hand prints. Sam put his arms around Jake to hold him, then twisted and rubbed the sides of his butt against Jake's crotch, fouling his now dangling genitals in an instant.

"So, Moriarty, you want to play dirty?" Jake said, faking the English accent of the Sherlock Holmes radio program. "Take this!" He leaned over, scooped up some pig manure, and clapped it on Sam's still erect penis. The feeling of his hand gripping Sam's hardness brought both boys back to reality in an instant. Sam stepped back, breaking their contact, his dick shrinking, and their grins slowly dissolved as they looked at their filthy bodies.

"We better get to work," Jake said. He pulled a manure fork out of the muck and walked over by the barrow. He drove the tines into the ground and struggled as he hefted a fork load into the empty barrow. Sighing, Sam hefted the other fork and joined him, both boys settling into a rhythm as flies buzzed and lit on them, and the wheelbarrow quickly filled.

"What did she mean," Sam asked suddenly. "About what our weenies are really for? They're for peeing, aren't they? What else would they be for?"

Jake dropped another fork full of manure into the wheel barrow. "I don't know," he said. "Look I'll go empty it this time, you do it next time," Jake said. He grabbed the handles and, with some effort, got the wheelbarrow moving, across the pen and out the door. Outside, the sun was shining, but being covered in shit effectively protected him from an otherwise serious sunburn. The side gate of the pen was open. A big boy was emptying a wheelbarrow filled much like Jake's onto a common manure pile between the pens. Unlike Jake, only his boots were smeared with manure, not his whole body, and he wasn't naked, he was wearing pants but no shirt. He looked up as Jake approached, then did a double take as he saw the boy's now flopping penis and realized he was naked.

"Hey," he said amiably. "You forget your clothes, little guy. And I do mean little guy."

Jake ignored the slight to his manhood, but he wasn't pleased to hear it. "We're being punished. Me and my buddy Sam," he said.

"You must have done something pretty bad if they're making you work naked," the big boy said. "The nuns don't like naked boys much, unless we're being punished. Then they seem to like it fine. So what'd you do?"

"We tried to look at the girls in the showers," Jake admitted.

"Pussy?" Jake said. What did cats have to do with it? "We didn't see much, really," he said. "We got caught." He dumped the wheelbarrow as he'd seen the boy do, by pushing up the handles, and turned to go back to the pen.

"Whoa, major butt beating, little guy," the boy said amiably. "You're blistered all over your ass."

Jake stopped. "We got spanked," he said. "And paddled. And slippered. Oh, and they shot at our bottoms with BB guns. And the priest gave us some shots."

"Whoa," the boy said again. "Well, hang loose," he said. "Although, I suppose, without pants you don't have much choice." He turned and took up his own wheelbarrow, pushing it away into the adjacent pen. Jake saw another boy emerging from a pen farther down, and, self-conscious about the first boy's remark about his genitals being small and immature, wheeled away quickly.

The job quickly became tedious. Arms began aching almost immediately, blisters started forming on hands and had to be protected by gripping the handles of the forks more carefully. The two of them also became progressively dirtier, Sam, especially, when one of Jake's inexpert throws hit Sam right in the stomach and then slid down him to the ground. Both boys were filthy, now. They had each made another trip out with the wheelbarrow before the two girls were back, one carrying a pair of bowls with a rags over them, the other a glass jar. "Your gruel," the first girl said, smirking as she looked at the boy's completely grimy bodies, her eyes straying to muck spattered, dangling penises and staying there. "We'll hold the bowls and you guys just swallow - we don't want to get them dirty from your hands. It's punishment gruel, so it's not very good, but eat it anyway, or we get to pig slap your little you-know-whats."

"Oh, and here's a mason jar with water in it," the second girl said. "I pumped it myself so it would be cold - it'll warm up fast enough. I'll put it upon this 2X4. Try to keep it clean—it's all you get until dinner."

Both boys struggled to suck gruel out of the upturned bowls and choke the viscous, tasteless stuff down. Some spilled into the muck, and they ended up with smeared mouths, and, in Sam's case, a dollop on the end of his nose. But they choked it down, and at the girls' instructions, licked the bowls clean as well, their faces darting into the bowls like kittens with extended tongues. The girls looked at their progress in the pen. "Better step it up," the one Jake was beginning to think of as the mean one said. "Remember, no dinner until you've done half, and no supper until the whole pen is cleared."

The flies buzzed, the pen steamed, and the sun rose. Jake and Sam took their turns dumping the wheelbarrow, almost always running across another boy delivering a load each time from one of the adjoining pens. Apparently all the houses in this group were being cleaned. The other boys were all big boys, post pubertal, sporting the shadows of chin hairs and farm work-stoked muscles. Some ignored the smaller boys, some showed sympathy and exchanged a few small words, asking what the boys had done to earn them naked punishment. Those who did seemed to understand their desire to see the girls naked, and one even said he'd actually done the same thing, and hadn't gotten caught, his eyes far away as he thought about it.

Two of the boys were openly contemptuous of their prepubertal genitals, one saying that they looked like they were already steers. Jake didn't know what a steer was but immediately grasped that whatever it was had a small penis and small balls. The other had simply said, "Wait your turn, little girl," as he dumped his barrow, edging Sam out of the way even though he'd been there first. Sam had opened his mouth to protest that he wasn't a girl, but then he saw the boy's contemptuous look at his crotch and realized the other boy knew he wasn't a girl, and was simply making a commentary on his lack of manliness. He bit his tong and waited as the boy took his time and then trotted off with one last contemptuous sneer at Sam's crotch.

On the next trip, it was Jake's turn to be disconcerted, as the boy who was at the pile actually dumped his barrow and then said to Jake, "here let me give you a hand with that, walking behind Jake and taking the handles and pressing against him as he hoisted the back of the barrow to dump it, with Jake trapped, naked, between him and the barrow. He stayed in that position, then, pressing his hips tightly into the back of Jake's butt and pinning him against the barrow. Jake was suddenly aware of a hard bulge pressing between him and the boy, rubbing slowly up and down his butt cleft. In a husky voice, the boy offered, softly, to help him and Sam with his own pen if the two of them were willing to "offer him something he wanted in return," and "play ball with him." Before Jake could ask him what he meant, though, another boy emerged from his pen, spotted the first one and yelled something to him in an angry tone. The boy backed away from Jake, took up his barrow, and, glaring at the kid approaching, gave him a threatening look before stalking back off to his own pen.

"Stay away from him," the boy who'd shouted said as he approached. "He does bad stuff to you baldies." Jake nodded and plodded off to his pen again. Thereafter Jake avoided the boy who'd pressed against him, making sure he wasn't outside before venturing out to dump his own load. He tried to think of how to warn Sam about the boy, but he couldn't put his intuitions into words, and he found talking too much effort, so he gave up and vowed to just check before Sam went out and delay him if the boy was dumping his load at that time. But he didn't see the boy the rest of the morning.

The sun had long since crossed the midpoint of the sky and was moving into afternoon by the time the girls came back with dinner for the two of them. Most of the big boys had apparently already finished their own pens, with only one solitary boy still finishing up down the line when the girls were suddenly there, inside the pen with the exhausted, grimy and sweaty boys. Jake's arms felt like lead, and Sam was working with downcast eyes, finding it too hard to hold his head up any more.

"Break time!" the nicer of the two girls announced. Except for their boots, they were still quite decently clean. To the boys, they were like visions of angels in their simple white shifts, extending to the requisite Catholic length of 2 inches below the knee.

"More gruel," the meaner girl said. "We'll pour it into you like before."

"You can pee if you want, too," the nicer girl said hopefully.

"Don't be an idiot," the first girl said. "They won't need to pee now. They're boys - they've probably just been letting fly all morning. Without pants they don't even need to pause to do it."

Actually, what she said was embarrassingly close to the truth. Both Sam and Jake had twice just let their bladders relax and dribble out their contents while they'd kept working. The clean urine had actually felt kind of good washing down the fronts of their thighs, but in moments they were dirty again. The girls were somewhat more patient in feeding them this time, but still smeared gruel all over their faces. Despite its total lack of taste, Jake found himself wolfing the stuff, ravenously hungry from the morning's work, and then wishing for more when the bowl was empty, and eagerly licking it even though it made him feel like a fool.

"Sister said we could give you these if you were half done," the nicer girl said. She held out 6 wedges of apple. "Three apiece. You can't eat too many or they'll give you the runs, but three shouldn't loosen you up much."

"You're lucky," the other girl said. "We were supposed to give each of you a hard slap on your little dingers if you weren't over half done. Too bad." Jake almost shivered as he realized she looked genuinely disappointed not to be dealing those painful blows to his and Sam's up to this moment relatively untouched genitals. The other girl began moving toward the boys, her hand holding the apples extended to allow them to eat out of it.

"Hold on," the mean girl said. "First they have to earn them." She looked at Jake, and the glint was back in her eye. "Now let's see—what can we make them do?"

Jake, his mouth already watering, looked at her in despair. What humiliation were he and Sam going to endure now?