The Orphanage Boys Chapter 25
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 25: Twenty-fifth floor: Pots and Pans

Jake was trembling, but he approached the boy, trying not to look at the bigger boy's small but rock hard, throbbing erection. It looked more and more menacing the closer Jake approached. He's going to stick that in my bottom, Jake thought to himself. Down where I poo. It's going to hurt. But as he turned away from the boy, and spread his legs widely so his swollen balls could slip by his thighs as he bent over, he saw Sam cowering in the corner. I've got to do this. I can't let him do it to Sam, he thought to himself. Sam's empathy for Jake was visible in his eyes, as was his gratitude for what Jake was sacrificing, and this strengthened Jake. He took a deep breath. I can do it, he thought. I'm doing it for Sam. After all, he did the other thing for me. That had to be worse. Having my weenie in his mouth had to be worse. He steeled his nerves. I'll just try to think about other stuff until it's over, like I did when they were shooting the BBs.

But he already knew that didn't work. During that horrendous punishment, he'd been unable to think about anything but the fact that a gun was aimed at his butt and the next BB might hit him anywhere, at any time. And now, as he gripped his ankles and thrust his bare butt toward the boy, his butt crack spreading wide and giving the boy full access to himself, all he could think of was that throbbing cock, and how it was going to feel ripping into his asshole. He was trembling all over as the boy approached him from behind. There was a pause, and he heard the boy hawking and spitting.

"Gonna do you a favor and spit on my cock," the boy commented from behind. "Get it all greased up. Not 'cause I care if it hurts you, but because you're probably so tight you'd hurt my cock if I don't. Not loose like the old sows." He was rubbing saliva on his organ as he spoke. Jake could see the movements of his legs between his own as the boy prepared to rape him. A moment later, a calloused hand gripped Jake's shoulder as the boy bent over him. The other hand pressed Jake's buns on either side of his tight asshole, guiding the boy' shaft to the target. Wet flesh pressed against Jake's wrinkled slit, and the boy moved his other hand to grip Jake's other shoulder. The boy pushed, and Jake felt pressure trying to part his hole, and a stab of pain as his abused butt hole resisted.

"Oh, you're tight!" the boy said. "This is gonna be good!" Jake's heart leapt in fear and he gripped his ankles more tightly. The boy rammed his hips forward and a shaft of pain exploded as Jake's butt hole was forced open to admit the intruder. Jake squeaked and bit his lip to choke it off, holding his ankles for dear life as the boy pistoned in and out of him in short, expert strokes that revealed he'd had considerably more practice with the sows than anyone knew. The two inches of Jake's rectum that Dinky/Dennis could penetrate was on fire and felt fuller than the biggest shit Jake had ever felt, but it wasn't really as bad as the pepper enema had been, or the rubber treatment tool of the priest. And the boy had no staying power. In fewer than a dozen strokes, he was ramming Jake's butt as hard as he could, his penis spreading Jake's butt hole as he came, pulsing against Jake's tight ring. Jake could feel copious amounts of fluid flooding him inside, hot fluid that made him wonder if the boy was peeing inside him. The boy trembled against him, hips tightly pressing Jake's butt, then the boy shuddered and withdrew, bringing a final gasp of pain from Jake as he left the smaller boy's violated rectum. Jake blinked back tears, the pain in his butthole swelling, leveling off, then starting to decline again. He squeezed with his anal muscles again and again, feeling the sharp pain as his stretched muscle tried to close. Behind him, the boy was examining his own still swollen cock. "I knew it," he said, frowning. "You got your shit on me. Good thing I brought along some toilet paper, just in case." He dug into a pants pocket and retrieved a wad of white. Hawking, he spit on it copiously, then he proceeded to scrub his rapidly diminishing cock with it. Sam, watching from his position of comfort against the way, watched him warily, fearful that he would be the boy's next victim. But the boy's penis continued to shrink despite his boasts of being able to "go all day." By the time he was satisfied that his organ was suitable clean and tossed the tissue to the floor, it was a small stub smaller than his and Jake's own organs (although still fatter).

"Bury this under some pig shit," the boy ordered. "Where no one can see it." He tossed the wad toward Sam. Jake had straightened up to a half crouch, his eyes shut, his butt clenching against the pain of being butt fucked by a randy teen. He felt much more stirred up inside than had been the case when the priest had stuck fingers into his rectum, or when he'd been enemaed. The priest had slid his fingers in carefully and slowly, and then had pressed rhythmically against that mysterious spot behind the base of both boys' penises, and that had felt good, if a bit full and weird. And the enema hadn't felt good, but the nozzle had been slid into them and then stayed there as the contents had been released. This was different - the bigger boy's penis had pistoned in and out of him rapidly, and his rectum was complaining about it. Jake clenched and clenched his butt, but the burn of his rectum didn't go away. Squatting shamelessly, he tried pushing like he did to poop, hoping that would help like it did sometimes when he felt disturbed back there. Slimy goo oozed out of him and down his buns, dripping onto the ground, the liquid he had felt the boy squirt into him so copiously as he'd finished.

Sam padded over two steps, looking at the older boy fearfully, retrieved the used tissue and shoved it into a hole made by a sow's foot, pulling some muck over it. The boy grinned at him. "Be thankful your buddy is such a good fuck," he said. "Or I'd have done you, too," He looked at Jake, huddled in a pooping crouch, slime dripping off his buttocks to the ground. "I haven't had a chance to jerk off in a week," he said. "They watch me all the time and try to catch me—the big boys do. So I had a big load stored up." Jake, pushing harder, trying to rid himself of the rectal burn the boy had caused, farted loudly, more liquid dripping out of him.

"Man, that felt good," the boy said, his pants still at his knees, his dick a drooping stub over balls that looked too big for his now small organ. "Your ass is nice and tight. Wish I had time to do your buddy, but I gotta go. Tell you what, Red," he added. Sam's head jerked up fearfully from where he'd been watching the ooze drip out of Jake's butt with a revolted fascination. "You can kiss my butt before I go. Give me a big ol' smooch right on the hole." He turned around, bending over slightly and thrusting his butt back toward Sam. Sam quailed against the wall, shuddering as he eyed the boy's spreading buns. Dennis/Dinky's butt hole was an angry, irritated red mass of wrinkles, circled by sore-looking pimples. Adding to Sam's distaste, the boy appeared to have a rash on both inner butt cheeks surrounding his hole, a rash that looked red and irritated. The thought of putting his lips in that disgusting place made him want to throw up.

"Come on, Red," the boy said to the far wall, wiggling his butt as Sam. I don't have all day. Plant a big one right where the sun don't shine!"

Something large and black suddenly moved between Sam and the boy, something large, blocking the view. There was a loud crack! that cut the air, a noise loud as a firecracker in the close surrounds of the building, then another, and another in quick succession. The boy began howling, a high-pitched, girlish shriek followed by wailing. Two more loud cracks sounded, and Sam blinked, his eyes finally making sense out of the scene. A large nun had the boy with a strong, cruel grip on his genitals, the boy's small penis and bigger balls caught in an iron grip that was lifting him to his tip-toes, the large hand that Sam and Jake knew so well from feeling it repeatedly on their own butts smacking Dinky's butt mercilessly even though it was already glowing with red hand prints. She gave him two more slaps seemingly hard enough to break bones, then shoved the boy forward, toward the door. He staggered, his legs shuffling, trapped in his pants, and caught the door, hanging onto it and gasping out cries of pain. Hefting her long habit, Sister Mary Catherine lifted it, revealing a muscular, hair leg and a foot in sturdy work shoes. Before the boy could react, she drove her foot between his buttocks catching him low down, right at the top of his legs, and propelling him forward and out of the door to sprawl on the grass in front. Jake, from where he was still squatting, saw Dinky (it was no longer possible to see him as a Dennis, not in this state)stretched out on the grass with his back arched, gripping the lower back part of his butt over his butt hole and shrieking.

Sam cowered against the wall in fear, sure he and Jake would be next. But Mary Catherine simply looked at them serenely and floated toward the door. She turned toward the frightened boys, frozen in position, and gave them a stern frown. "You are only animals," she said. "Still, he'll have to be punished severely. You!" she added, pointing at Jake, still squatting with the boy's cum trailing from his butt like nose slime to the ground. "Back on all fours!"

Jake plopped onto his hands immediately. He could feel the boy's cum begin trailing down the back of his perineum and onto his balls, cold and wet. Sam squeaked as she barked at Jake, and a jet of pee shot out of his penis onto the ground under him. Sister Mary Catherine noted this event with her eyes. "Animals," she repeated again. She floated out the door, yanking Dinky to his feet with the back of his shirt and pushing him forward, bawling, his feet shuffling rapidly, still bound up in his pants and underpants, his little penis flopping. He stooped to try to pull up his pants and underpants, and the nun planted a thick boot in the middle of his bare butt, sending him sprawling again. "You will leave those the way they were when I found you!" she thundered, yanking him to his feet with the back of his shirt once again. A button on the top of the shirt popped and rolled to the ground, and the boy staggered forward, bawling. Sister Mary Catherine stooped to pick up the button and glided on. Catching up to the boy, she planted another kick into the cleft of his buttocks, lifting him off his feet to sprawl into the dust again.

"Better make sure we put this somewhere safe so we don't lose it," she commented. Stooping, she pried the boy's buttocks apart with her left hand, and pressed the button against his anus with the right, driving it in swiftly with a long, thick, manly finger all the way into his rectum. Using his shirt again along with her hooked grip in his anus, she hefted him back to his feet, held his shirt while she withdrew her finger from his butt and wiped it on the back of his shirt, and then gave him another push down the path. "We are going to see Mother Superior," she said grimly to his wailing, retreating form. "We shall let her decide how to deal with you. We must also query your bunkmates - behavior like this is often part of a pattern." Jake could see the boy's butt was very red where he'd been kicked, and he was moving painfully. His own rectum throbbed and dripped, and he felt no sympathy. The older boy who'd tormented him looked very small, now, retreating from the angry nun.

A brave pig stepped tentatively toward him, the cold snout snuffling the ground under him, then probing his anus. He held still and let the pig lick him, his rectum and anus still burning and throbbing. Sam looked at him from his place cowering on against the wall. "Jake?" he asked in a voice barely above a whisper. The big boy's wailing was fading in the distance, an incoherent begging of Sister Mary Catherine not to kick him again. "Did it hurt? Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Jake said, although he wasn't okay. He was all stirred up inside. His balls still were swollen and achy, his butt hole ached, his rectum ached, and he felt like crying, just curling up in his mom's lap and bawling like a big baby. But he didn't. Sam needed him to be strong, or Sam would cry, too, and he couldn't stand that. "I'm okay," he said. "It was quick. And it only hurt a little."

"Good," Sam said. Jake moved, painfully, to the wall and settled down on his butt in the muck, leaning against the wall with his back. Sam sat up, grimacing when his still throbbing balls moved, and spread his legs so that they could settle untouched between his legs. Both boys still looked like they had huge scrotums, making their shrunken penises look tiny. They sat there like that for quite some time, heads hanging down, eyes closed. Maybe 15 minutes later, Sam lifted his head.

"Jake?" he whispered. "Did you do that - what you did - letting him—did you do that to protect me?"

"Kinda," Jake said. "You had to do the thing last time, remember. With your mouth. So I had to pay you back."

Sam absorbed this for a minute. "That's what I thought," he said. He let his head hang again. "Thanks," he said after a moment.

"Forget it," Jake said. "You're my best buddy."

"Yeah," Sam said. "And you're mine." He looked down at his huge balls and small penis a few minutes, then looked up again. "What do you think they'll do to us next?" he asked.

"Don't think about that," Jake said after a moment. "Don't think at all. We're alone now, and no one's hurting us. Just don't think."

Sam lifted his butt and slid sideways, until he was leaning against Jake. He let his head settle on Jake's shoulder. "Can you put your arm around me?" he asked. "I don't want to be alone."

They snuggled together like that, Sam's breath warm and comforting on Jake's chest, his body bony and unfamiliar next to Jake's (Both boys were used to the softness of pajamas between them when they were snuggled together, not dirty bare flesh against bare flesh. Jake's butt hole throbbed, and his rectum burned inside of him as far as Dinky's dick had reached (which was only about 2 inches, because he couldn't get it all inside Jake, of course, not with Jake's round butt holding him back from pressing his groin fully against Jake's anus. His balls ached too, fiercely throbbing with his heartbeats. Jake compared his and Sam's genitals, both fully visible as they sat side by side, each with an outside leg splayed out to give their swollen balls room. Both of them had balls so swollen they looked like the balls on the big boys, the ones with bushes of hair above their dicks and hairs growing out of their ball bags as well. Both he and Sam had red scrota, too, a dull, irritated red that had come from the powerful blow they'd received instead of the castration they were expecting. Castration that they still might experience, according to Sister Mary Catherine's remarks. (Not that Jake or Sam knew that word, of course. Being city boys, they were still dealing with the shock of the idea that people actually cut the balls off of boy animals Cut them off, threw them in the bucket, and cooked them for dinner, no less.

Flies buzzed around, landing here and there. Jake waved them away now and then, but they always came back. Much of his body was so dirty he hardly felt them crawling on him, but there were always some tickling him somewhere, and now and then one would actually bite him, creating a sharp spot of pain and prompting him to wave them away again. He wondered how the pigs could stand it.

There was a banging at the door, startling Jake, and then two girls swung the door wide and trooped in. Each was holding something Jake and Sam hadn't seen before—a long, thin stick with a rope tapering off the end, growing thinner until it split at the end into six separate strings. One of the girls was a red-headed as Sam, the other had dark brown hair. Both were dressed in the shapeless flannels all the kids appeared to wear at the farm. Jake noticed that they'd been sweating, leaving wet patches under their arms. Both were bigger than him and Sam by a considerable margin. The brown-haired one twitched the stick, and the rope on the end made a sharp snapping noise in the air.

Whips, Jake realized. They're whips for herding animals. That realization came too late, because by then the redhead was already swinging her whip at Jake's exposed flank on the side opposite Sam. There was a crack and a sharp sting of pain as the thin strings at the end bit into the side of his buttock and Jake lurched sideways, out from under Sam, scrambling backwards to get away.

"Get up, you two. Up on all fours! We're supposed to herd you two little shitheads to the laundry!" She flanked the two boys and cracked the whip in the air behind Jake's ass. Jake scrambled out the door on all fours, Sam hurrying after him so fast that he bumped his face into Jake's butt crack. Sam stopped moving momentarily as his face collided with his friend's butt. In reponse, the redhead cracked her whip across Sam's butt, the 6 strings burning like streaks of fire across his bare globes, three of them wrapping into his butt crack, and one of those stinging his asshole. Sam yelped and lurched ahead, past Jake, scrambling down the path on all fours as Jake hurried to follow, vividly aware of the bareness of his ass and the girl with the whip that was right behind him. The brown-haired girl was moving beside them, cracking the whip in the air on either sides of their bodies when they appeared to be straying from the path.

"Giddup, piggies," the brown haired girls ordered, hustling them along, the red head snapping her whip behind Jake but not actually hitting his butt, instead filling him with terror that the next swing of the whip would make contact with him. He could see the red stripes on Sam's butt where the whip had landed, almost glowing amidst the pig muck and dirt that coated his friend's butt. The whip brushed down his sides when he veered, guiding him down the path, and flicked by his head and over his butt, but didn't actually strike him. The path as dusty and a little sandy, and that was good, as he was not used to racing along on hands and knees and his knees and palms began protesting quickly. His balls swayed swollenly between his legs, making him crawl along with his legs splayed a bit, his penis bouncing his belly as he hurried, fearful of the whip that had landed on Sam's ass so painfully. Soon both boys were panting from the effort of padding along so rapidly. But the girls wouldn't let them stop - they kept the small whips flicking near bare butts and by panting heads. Several times the cords flicked so close to Jake's butt crack that he thought he could feel the wind from them on his open asshole, and he scrambled along with greater effort, even though his swollen, swaying balls complained and his knees and hands were getting very tender and sore.

They finally topped a small hill and the girls stopped them by flicking whips in front of their faces to make them hold up. "Let's let them catch their breaths before we take them down," the redhead said. "Don't want to overheat them." Jake and Sam stood on all fours, panting, their legs spread to allow their red, swollen balls to hang without pressure on them.

They were looking down on a section of the orphanage camp they'd never seen before, a section making the third point of a triangle if the barns and the orphanage buildings were the first two points. There was a cluster of buildings there - two long sheds lined with windows, an old farm house, and an open-sided building with smoke rolling out of two chimneys atop it. Girls were lined up in rows along a huge trough running down one side. Jake squinted to see better, and realized the girls were all working at washboards, scrubbing clothing by hand all up and down the trough. Further into the open-sided building, big stoves were being fed with chunks of wood, and huge pots were boiling, vapor pouring out the tops.

The girls working in rows or tending fires were all plastered with sweat, their thin orphanage work shifts plastered to their chests and clinging to their bodies. Splashes of hot water, inevitable given the girls' work, had soaked the outfits of most of them, outlining breasts big and small to the point where, even from a distance, nipples could be clearly seen outlined in the thin cloth. (Most of the girls did not wear bras while at work unless their breasts were unusually pendulous—the bras chafed on wet skin and cut into their backs, and each girl only had one and most wanted to keep it dry for mass and other occasions where boys were present. Boys were never around the wash barn or within sight of it—the nuns forbade entering the perimeter on pain of terrible punishment, and the boys at the orphanage were largely unaware of the sights to be seen from the vantage point where Jake and Sam currently were. The older girls who were assigned to washing duty had their dorm in the shed next to the wash barn, and they bathed in a large shower space in the corner of the wash barn itself after they finished the day's laundry. The shower space was partially open to the outside in warmer weather, and could be curtained off with canvas when it was colder. But today was warm enough that the washing barn was quite hot, and the girls trickled with sweat as they worked, pert nipples poking out into twin points in the fronts of smooth mounds on most of them.

So Sam and Jake didn't know it, but they were seeing a sight even the bravest boys at the orphanage had seldom seen. Small penises would have swelled under normal circumstances, but both boys weren't really taking in the wonder of the sight. Their hands and feet were growing raw from scrambling along the path like animals, and their balls, still swollen between their legs after the mighty rap that either Sister Mary Catherine or sister Magdalene had given them (Jake still wasn't sure who'd done the deed, only that it had hurt like all the spankings in the world concentrated into one area). Those balls were throbbing, having taken a beating bumping against the boys' thighs as they hustled along on all fours. As the boys squatted on all fours, panting, their legs apart so they wouldn't touch their sensitive scrota, those organs hung pendulously between their legs, making them looks something like miniature bulls from behind. Their balls had swollen to adult-sized lumps, stretching the skin of their scrota tight, the heavy load of fluid that had leaked into the tight bags making their balls heavy so the skin of their bags stretched away from the body. Had they not hurt so badly, the boys might have been pleased by their appearances.

The girls gave them only a minute to catch their breaths, then they were nudging their bare flanks with the whips. "Giddup, pig," the redhead said. "The sisters say you need a nice bath to make you presentable." Sighing, Jake and Sam padded forth down the path, which at least was sandy and not covered with hard rocks that would have hurt their increasingly tender knees and palms. They approached a trio of big girls standing to one side with their backs to the approaching boys, watching the girls working with a critical eye.

"...so keep an eye on her," one was saying. "The other girls say she's dogging it, doing half as much as everyone else. I've put her on the end, with her own pile to do today. It'll be harder for her to blend in that way."

"Long as she doesn't just slide her pile into the pile next to hers," the second girl said. "Or just rinse things and pass them on as clean."

"Fat chance," the first girl said. "I've got her on the little boys' undies. You know what that's like - if she doesn't scrub, we'll know." The three girls laughed together, the one who hadn't talked yet guffawing like a mad woman. The girls herding the boys stopped them short with a snap of a whip in front of their upturned faced.

"Speaking of little boys," the darker girl said. The trio of girls, now clearly the overseers of this group of older girls, turned to look at who had spoken, then snapped their eyes to the two naked boys looking up at them from the ground like abused little dogs hoping for a new master who cared.

"Ooooh, they stink!" the shortest girl of the trio exclaimed. "What are they covered with, cow dung?"

"Pig shit," the dark girl said, gesturing with the whip at Jake. "They've been piggies for the least day. Sister Mary Badass ordered it up. And now she says they have to be scrubbed spotless, then help your crew with the laundry the rest of the day. She'll come for them around dusk."

"Naw," the dark farmer girl responded. "Word is, he was Dinky's latest conquest. Guess he got tired of doing sows and decided to graduate to the human race."

Jake could feel the wet sliminess dripping down the skin behind his asshole, the skin that still ached underneath from that awful shot the priest had given him back there, where it had felt like the needle had tunneled just under his skin for about a mile. His rectum still burned, too, at least for the first inch or so into it, all the farther that Dinky's dinky dick had reached. With his legs apart to avoid touching his sore, swollen balls, the trail of slim oozed down the back of his sack and began dripping on the ground.

"God, these guys look like little bulls back there," the middle girl went on. She was eyeing the boys critically from the back. Jake blushed redly at the realization that she was looking over his most private areas, but there was nothing he could do to block her. "Their bags are all big and red and hangy."

"Yeah, they weren't like that to start with - they were nice and little and tight, like toddler boys have. I guess Dinky did something to them, maybe squeezed them as hard as he could or something."

Jake shook his head involuntarily. He wanted to explain that Dinky hadn't hurt their balls. It was the nuns who'd done it, and what Dinky had done to him had been tame by comparison, not to mention quick. But explaining that would be even more embarrassing than being gawked at naked by a bunch of girls, so he kept silent. Besides, he'd been ordered not to talk by the nuns, and these girls might be enforcing that order.

"We'll start them in cold water, then," the tallest girl from the laundry suggested. "It'll bring down the swelling of their bags, and help this one's little poop chute, too. Then we'll switch them to hot to give them a real scrubbing. They'll be clean enough to eat off of before you know it."

"Good, because they stink worse than the pigs right now," the dark farmer girl said. She leaned over and looked down at both boys, who avoided meeting her intense gaze. "Now you be good little boars and do what these girls say. You don't want your baby balls crushed again, do you? These girls all have strong hands - comes from using a washboard all day, every day." She gave them an insincere smile and turned to her partner. "Come on, we've still got chores to do. The boys will be busy all day with the castrating." She leaned over the boys again. "I'm glad they didn't cut your balls out," she said. "You too might be interesting when you get graduate to the farm - I see real potential there." She nodded in the general direction of their dangling genitals, then turned and hurried away with her partner. The three girls, who now had the two boys surrounded, looked down at them from three different angles. The tallest girl, a blond with nicely proportioned breasts pressing out the top of her loose work shift, outlining her large nipples, spoke up.

"Stand up," she said. "You can stand and walk, can't you? From now on, you're boys again, not pigs. So get up and we'll see just how big a challenge it's going to be to clean you up."

Slowly, carefully, Jake and Sam raised themselves erect on their knees, then put one foot and then the other under themselves and stood up. Jake had a moment of vertigo and swayed a moment - it had only been a day but being on his feet felt unfamiliar for a moment. Now that he was erect, he was aware that his balls bulged out hugely, his scrotum swollen and touching his thighs on both sides. His penis, by contrast, looked infantile, a tiny white worm dangling down an inch over his huge red balls. His butt crack felt slimy from the Dinky's semen - it felt like the older boy had squirted about a quart into him back there. (That was an exaggeration, of course. Dinky had not ejaculated for almost 2 weeks because he'd been watched closely to prevent him from masturbating at Sister Magdalene's orders, so he'd stored up a good couple of tablespoons of semen, but in Jake's tight butt it felt like a lot more, and it seem to ooze out of him endlessly).

"God, you guys reek," the middle girl said for a third time."

"Over here, you two," the tall blond ordered. She turned and walked to a collection of washing tubs that were lined up near the stoves, a group of oblong galvanized boilers half full of water, ready to be filled with whites and place on the stove to boil. She motioned to the two nearest them. "Each of you get in one of those and sit down," she said. "We'll get come girls to come scrub you down. Better have them bring brushes," she added to the shortest girl, a plain-faced brunet with small breasts making points on the front of her loose shift. "They aren't going to want to touch this."

She herded the two boys over to the nearest boilers. Jake lifted his foot over the side of one, gripping the edge, and slid it into the water. He withdrew it immediately.

"COLD!" he exclaimed involuntarily.

"Right out of the spring!" the brunet said cheerfully. "The girls carried them up just this morning." Jake stood there, one foot out of the tub, one foot poised over the water, and Sam stared at his tub doubtfully.

"Go on, get in," the brunet said. "The cold will be good for your little baggy thingies. Bring down the swelling. And you'll get used to the temperature - it's like going in the old swimming hole back home."

Jake, who'd never been in a swimming hole in his life, or a swimming pool, for that matter, hesitated. The blond stepped closer. "If I have to lift you up and put you in," she said, her face now showing a glint of steel, "it will be by those." She pointed to Jake's obscenely dangling genitals. Jake bit his lip and thrust his foot in, shivering at the icy cold, then stepped over and immersed his other foot. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to sit down in the cold water.

For a moment he couldn't breathe, and he began shivering almost immediately as the cold penetrated him like an icy glove of a giant gripping his torso. Next to him, Sam clambored into his own tub and sat down with a splash, letting out a little squeal as the cold sank into him. Both boys huddled over their bodies, leaning forward, arms crossed to preserve their heat. Rather than feeling better, tortured balls began throbbing even more painfully. Meanwhile, two girls had been called over, each bringing long-handled, stiff bristled brushes that the girls normally used when scrubbing carpets and rugs. The girl approaching Jake stopped, looked at him huddled in the water distastefully, then reached out and gripped him by embedding a strong-fingered hand into his hair and grasping it by the roots. The girl who'd approached Sam saw this and followed suit by grasping a handful of red hair herself. "Hold still!" the girl gripping Jake's hair ordered."

"Yeah, hold still," the other girl told Sam, giving his hair a yank as emphasis. Sam yelped and bit his lip. Both girls began attacking the grimy, shit-covered boys with the brushes, scrubbing backs, necks, the sides of their faces, and then their chests mercilessly. The brush bristle were stiff and it felt to Jake like his skin was being scrubbed off. Both boys cried out in protest, until Jake's tormenter yanked his hair and ordered him to shut up, and the other girl followed suit on Sam. After that, they merely whimpered as the girls continued scrubbing their upper bodies, turning the water a murky brown as they worked. Finally satisfied with the preliminary work on their upper bodies, both boys were yanked to their feet, their genitals exposed to the entire crowd of girls, who had all stopped working and were watching the show from their work areas, necks craning and faces flushed with the excitement of what they were witnessing. The girls washing Jake and Sam were attacking their butts now, scouring their still sore cheeks and butt cracks with the stiff brushes, forcing the brushes between their thighs, and then cleaning down their legs until they were scrubbing the tops of the boys' feet. Coming back up Jake's front legs, the girl approached Jake's genitals with the brush, and he thought for a minute he was going to receive the same scouring on his throbbing balls, but to his relief the girl avoided his genitals and let go of his hair. His relief was short-lived, though, as she grabbed him around the neck, putting his head in a headlock. As his wetness soaked into her top, she scrubbed his hair with the brush, bringing more yelps from him and similar ones from Sam, whose girl was imitating the actions of the one washing Jake. He was just becoming conscious of the amazing softness of her breasts against his ear when he was released. The girls stood back and looked at them.

"Now they soak, I think," Jake's girl said. Her top was soaked and dirtied from his head, and was now plastered to her tits. Even better, it had become translucent, so that the shadow of a red nipple was perfectly outlined against the wet cloth. Despite the fact that his skin felt like it had been scoured and he was freezing, Jake felt his penis stir.

The girls made them step out of the tubs and into fresh ones next to them. Other girls were called to dump the dirty water and go refill their tubs from the spring. Both boys were forced to huddle in the icy water. In moments, Jake felt like he was being chilled to the bone.

"Everyone back to work," The tall blond called to the girls. "Show's over for awhile. We'll let them soak in there a bit until their bags shrink."

"What do we do then?" the brunet asked her.

"Then?" the blond said. "Then, we boil them. Just like the clothes. Get them nice and clean."

Jake looked over to the stoves, unable to believe his ears. Tubs just like his were sitting in pairs on the tops of the wood-fired iron stoves, all boiling merrily away. If his blood hadn't already been chilled, it would have run cold. Boiled? They were going to be boiled? His thighs warmed momentarily as the pee he'd stored up since the moment he'd emptied himself thinking he was going to be castrated joined the water in his tub. Were they really going to be boiled? He shivered violently, and it wasn't from the cold.