New Babysitter 8 to 11

By Gerste

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Copyright 2013 by Gerste, all rights reserved

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This work is intended for ADULTS ONLY. It may contain 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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"New Baby Sitter," part VIII, by Gerste
 
 
 
Little Josh couldn't believe his ears. He just couldn't believe what Mr. Ausseriquence had just said! There Josh was, naked and fully exposed before over 100 onlookers, as he had been all evening and on the walk there (over half [.7] of a mile), and now he was just told by Mr. Ausseriquence that these selfsame bystanders were going to feel around in his colon for the money. Josh decided to try to expel the object by force, in order to forego this last degradation. So he squatted down before his overly curious audience and tried to pass the object right there and then, on the linoleum tiles. The owner of the franchise, Mr. Ausseriquence, was put off by this new development. "What do you think you are doing?" he ejaculated, "Shitting on my floor? This is a sanitary restaurant, not some backwoods outhouse!"
 
 Josh: "Sanitary?"
 
 Mr. Ausseriquence: "I'm saying that what you're doing is not very sanitary...err, cleanly, I mean."
 
 Josh: "And feeling around in my ass IS?"
 
 Mr. Ausseriquence was amazed, and quite a bit incensed, by Josh's incisive acumen. But he was not about to be trounced by a little kid, especially one whom he endorsed molesting. "Your colon, I mean, inner ass, has been cleaned, so feeling around in there will not present an problem of sanitation."
 
 Josh: "Well, then, neither will shitting out the money be an INSANE problem, since it is probably the only thing IN my ass right about now." Having said that, Josh strained as hard as he could to eject the troublesome mass, but in vain. It simply would not budge. He straitened up and faced his avid viewers, who were not so very disappointed to see him fail.
 
 Mr. Ausseriquence saw an opportunity for yet another witticism at Josh's expense, and he took it: "Since you can't pay, that money is coming out of your hide." The audience of customers roared with laughter at his coarse double entendre. A lady added to the levity of the ambient mood by reaching down and patting Josh's buttocks, in conjunction with her remark, "Dear, this seems to be a butt of our jokes." More laughter followed, along with other insensitive jokes. One lady licked Josh's buttocks, and commented that they were only speaking "tongue in cheek." Josh didn't get it, but it didn't seem to matter to him. To him, his humiliation was simply not a laughing matter, and it all followed on the heels of his molestation by hundreds, with more to come.
 
 Mr. Ausseriquence: "Let us begin. Who wants to be first to see if they can dislodge the money from his ass?" Almost every hand shot up. As he looked over the sea of hands, one in particular stood out to him. A girl of about seven was jumping up and down, vying for his attention. He chose her:
 
 Mr. Ausseriquence: "You there, little girl in the front. You're first."
 
 Girl: "Oh, goody!"
 
 She ran up to Josh and began feeling up his genitals. "Turn around," she demanded. Josh looked at her for a couple of seconds, then at Mr. Ausseriquence and finally he inspected the faces of his audience. Unwilling to put off the inevitable any longer, he sighed in resignation and bent over. As the little girl plunged a few fingers into Josh's exposed anus, the rest of the people queued up behind her to await their turns. Each person was allowed 45 seconds to feel him out, and each took that long or slightly longer (a few took a minute). Josh sometimes screamed at the pain, and at other points bit his lower lip, while beads of sweat rolled down his forehead. No one was able to reach far enough in to retrieve the object. The farthest anyone was able to go was a finger length. Even the smaller children were not able to get their fist in. Josh was about as petite as the initial seven year old girl, so there was little hope in inserting a whole hand inside him. Despite the pain, most were semi-gentle, and none were intent on actually tearing his sphincter. He would have become "damaged goods," as it were.
 
 When the last person had failed to succeed (not that success was the ultimate goal here), Josh felt a respite of relief, despite his ongoing state of humiliation. Just then, Josh spied a lonely cell phone, sitting atop a nearby table. He took advantage of this fleeting repieve to lunge for the cell phone and dile 911. When the operator answered, he blurted, "Help me, I'm being molested and raped..." He barely uttered this desperate plea before the phone was snatched out of his hand by the owner of the phone. "What do you think you're up to? Stealing my phone?" A second man answered, "He alerted the police. They're sure to come." Then Josh said, "That's right, and they'll arrest all of you dumb fuckers. You child molesting pedo-bastards. Die, pedos, die. I hope bubba rapes you all in prison, you filthy fucks."
 
 Alexa, Josh's elder sister, responded, "And just what do you think they'll do, these police rescuers of yours, Josh?"
 
 Josh: "If you don't know, then you're dumber than you look." Josh began to regain his confidence in light of this new salvo, even to the point of arrogance. Ignoring this, the people just gathered around him and resumed fondling him as before. Josh looked befuddled at their incorrigible persitence in the face of imminent punishment. He had thought this phone call would deter them, that they would heed his warning and cower before this latest news, or even clear out of there, but he was wrong as usual that evening.
 
 In fact, the police really WERE on their way. They triangulated the coordinates of the call and dispatched a unit to arrive there within minutes. Only minutes passed before two blue uniformed officers, a man and a woman, entered the premises through the front door. As they did, the people just continued to molest Josh in full view of them. Seeing this, one of the officers turned to the owner and said, "We just received a distress call about a child being molested and raped. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?" Josh heard and cried out, as if they couldn't hear him, "Yeah, it's me. I made the call! You can see what they're doing now, can't you? Tell them to stop at once!!!" As if they didn't hear him, the officers turned back to Mr. Ausseriquence and resumed their interrogation.
 
 Mr. Ausseriquence: "No, officers. I wouldn't know anything about that sort of thing. Unless it is Josh over there. He's been disruptive all night."
 
 Officer Tellerance, the female officer: "Which one is he?"
 
 Josh, rolling his eyes, "Which one do you think it is? It's me, you dum...I mean, it's me, ma'am!"
 
 Officer Tellerance: "He's got quite a mouth on him. I can see why you said he was disruptive."
 
 Josh: "And can you also see that they are still molesting and raping me, right before your very eyes?"
 
 Officer Bearrings, her partner and a man, responded: "Step aside, everyone, and allow us to question the suspect."
 
 Josh: "Suspect? Isn't that what you would call the one doing the molesting, and not the molestee? I'm a victim, not a suspect. You see what they just did!"
 
 The crowd ceased molesting Josh just long enough for the two officers, a male and a female, to question him.
 
 Officer Tellerance: "Are you the one who made a distress call about being molested?"
 
 Josh, incredulous: "Yes, of course. What do you think?"
 
 Officer Bearrings: "Do you know what the penalty is for making a false police report, son?"
 
 Josh: "False police report? What's the penalty for molesting a child, did you consider that? I'll have your badge, sir. Are you incompoop?"
 
 Officer Bearrings: "Do you mean incomptent?"
 
 Officer Tellerance: "I think he meant nincompoop."
 
 Officer Bearrings: "Either way, it's disrespectful. And that would not bode well with you, son."
 
 Officer Tellerance interrupted officer Bearrings and appeared to Josh to be, for the moment, at least, the voice of reason among them. Kneeling down, she asked, "So you say they molested you, right?"
 
 Josh, emboldened by this apparent interest in his lot: "Err, yes, ma'am, yes. The whole restaurant did. Everyone in here, unless someone just walked in."
 
 Officer Tellerance: "EVERYone? The WHOLE restaurant, you say? You know how incredible that sounds, child? Surely you don't expect us to believe that everyone in here is a molester, do you? You can't possibly mean that, can you?"
 
 Josh blinked back the tears, which came anyways: "I...I can, only because it's true. I know it sounds unbelievable, but you got to believe me, officer. It really happened. You saw it yourself, didn't you? At least a few dozen you saw, did you not? Please TELL me you did! I'm BEGGING you, miss! BEGGING, no less!!!"
 
 Ignoring the immediate question, officer Tellerance reached down and fondled Josh's penis for herself, saying, "And how did they molest you? like this?"
 
 Josh, surprised, tried to divine in himself whether this strange behavior was part of routine procedure; but he overlooked this unorthodox method long enough to affirm, "Yes, yes, like that, and they also poked their fingers up my rear end."
 
 Officer Tellerance "You mean like this..." With that, she bent Josh over and inserted HER fingers up his rear end, only not as gently as the others had done. Another scream escaped Josh's mouth as he felt the fresh pair of fingers invade his sore rectum. He exclaimed, diffidently, "Sir...Ma'am, is this part of procedure?"
 
 Officer Tellerance: "It's now MY turn to ask: what do YOU think?"
 
 Officer Bearrings: "Or do you mean like this?" With that, her partner then inserted HIS huge fingers into Josh's worn, exausted hole. Josh's voice was hoarse from all the screaming, and he uttered a second raspy yelp. Then he said, "Are you two real officers, or what?"
 
 Officer Tellerance: "You also maintain that you had been raped. How is that?"
 
 Josh: "They finger fucked me! Well, maybe not finger fucked, more like just sticking their fingers inside my ass, like you just did. You pedo/rapist bastards."
 
 Officer Bearrings: "No, son, that's not rape. Rape is this..." Officer Bearrings then pulled out his penis, a full seven inches erect, and began anally penetrating Josh, until Officer Bearrings ejaculated a large amount of sperm into Josh's rectum.
 
 Mr. Ausseriquence: "Oh, now you just soiled his insides, again. We just cleaned him out!"
 
 Officer Bearrings: "Don't worry. It'll dissolve in his colon soon enough. It'll absorb through the colon wall and break down into his system." Then, turning again to Josh, officer Bearrings said, "And as for you, young man, we'll have to take you into custody and charge you with making and a false police report. You can't be molested. YOU'RE a boy, not a girl! The boylovers will just love you down at the jail, since you're so fucking hot...and hot fucking. If you thought you were molested now, wait until you get a load of them. We'll put you in their cells and let them have their way with you. Now let's go."
 
 
 
End of part 8
 
 
 
 
 
"New Baby Sitter," part IX, by Gerste
 
 
 
Josh was in a bad way. There he was, more naked than a bird with feathers, standing before a crowd which, for some inscrutable reason, insisted on scrutinizing him, and now this: a voluminous amount of semen was injected into him by the very officer of the law who was sworn to protect him from just such a heinous act in the first place! Josh's head was swirling with all of the seeming contradictions and non sequiturs, owing in large part to all the holes in his tormenters' logic. No one was making sense. Why would an officer of the law pretend not to recognize abuse, when it was staring him squarely in the face? Why would it be permissible, indeed, mandatory, for boys to be nude and not girls? Why did everyone not seem surprised at his nude state, as if they were all somehow informed of this event ahead of time?
 
 As Josh stood there, trying to take it all in, he felt some of the seminal overflow seep down his leg, from his anus. His thoughts were interruted by Mr. Ausseriquence's avaricious solicitations:
 
 "But officer Borrings..."
 
 Officer Bearrings: "Bearings."
 
 Mr. Ausseriquence: "Whatever...The boy still has my money up his ass...err...rear. I should like to retrieve that before you cart his requisite butt off to jail. I need to get paid."
 
 Officer Bearrings, speaking to Josh, "Oh, so you're a thief as well as a liar, are you? We will have to book you on two charges, one for making a false police report, and another for petty larceny. The theft charge is a misdemeanor, but the other, making a false report, is a felony, and carries a stiffer sentence. It'll be aggravated by the additional lesser charge."
 
 Josh: "You call this a false report?" Josh pointed to some people who had resumed fondling him a few seconds earlier. "If you don't believe me, then don't you believe your own eyes?"
 
 Mr. Bearrings: "I believe that you owe an apology to Mr. Ausseriquence and these good people for slandering them. That's a tort. You'll be lucky if they don't sue your ass, speaking of which. Now let's take ride down town."
 
 Josh: "Down town? Can't you be any more original than that? What are you, Kojack? That's sooocliché. You've been watching too many cop shows."
 
 Mr. Bearrings: "I am a cop. You know, kid, you're getting too smart for your own good. We might just have to smack that smart ass of yours, smart ass."
 
 Josh, angrily: "Can't be any worse than the raping I'm probably in store for down at the station,oofffiiiicccer!" Josh uttered this last drawn out word in derision and contempt, as if the term itself betrayed utter and complete disdain. (Josh, in fact, had lost all respect for authority.)
 
 Mr. Ausseriquence: "What about my money?"
 
 Mr. Bearrings: "What about it? Do I look like a fucking surgeon or miracle worker to you? A medical doctor will need to extract the money somehow. But for now, Josh needs to face his new punishment. For him, the penal code resembles a penile code..."
 
 Josh: "My punishment? Down town, right?..."
 
 
 
 In the police car on the way to the station, Josh was wedged between two prisoners, also in custody. His hands were still bound, but the officers removed the handcuffs from the other two so the latter could fondle Josh along the way. The officers left the dome light on as a courtesy, so that the two prisoners could see the subject of their molestations and better examine him. The officers called it "fairness." When they arrived, the officers replaced the cuffs, and conducted all three into the inner jail, there to be booked into the system. (Josh, for his part, was still bound by rope, which remained on him the whole time he was in custody.) Once there, presiding officers assigned to Josh escorted him to all the officers, 17 of whom were female officers, and 21 of whom male, in ordering for each one to molest Josh, as the others had done. That done, they invested Josh in the heavily populated Jail cell for men. All the prisoners there raped Josh anally. (Each had been tested and cleared for STD's by medical personel. Even the inmates knew he was coming.) When the prisoners finished raping and molesting Josh, the officers then took Josh to the women's cell, in order that he may also be molested by them. The women were only too happy to oblige. Josh's anus was now invaded by female inmate fingers and every part of him was once again thoroughly examined. The following day, Sunday, the officers took Josh to the men's prison, where 344 men were housed, to be examined by the latter prisoners, but not raped anally by them, as there was no time for that. Josh was there 12 hours, when everyone had had a chance, and took it, to thoroughly molest him for themselves. He was then tranferred to the women's prison, housing 187 female inmates, around 4 in the afternoon Sunday, in order to be similarly treated by them. They were utterly ruthless in their molestations of Josh (though they stopped short of extensively harming him physically). No one there, not even the female staff, refrained from examining him. The sex-starved female prison population was ravenous. They treated his penis and anus roughly, though they were not allowed to have coital sex with him. At the end of the day, Josh was sore and exhausted. The molesting then went on throughout the night. By day break, Josh's mother and father arrived to spring Josh from jail. He was issued a court date by the clerk as they were leaving with Josh, seually molesting Josh on the way out. "Even my mother and father," thought Josh, "even they!"
 
 
 
End of part 9
 
 
 
 
 
"New Babysitter," part X, by Gerste
 
 
 
After his mom and dad embraced him and fondled his genitals and anus for 15 minutes, they all left the police precinct and went to the car, Mrs. Weisensteing meanwhile berating her son for his alleged "profligacy."
 
 Mrs. Weisensteing: "I have never been so disappointeed in you, son. You are being charged with theft and making a false police report. Care to explain yourself?"
 
 Josh, emboldened: "Yes, the 'theft' was the payment for the restaurant owner's chicken. That bitch of a babysitter you hired shoved it up my ass, and no one could get it out to pay the man. So he presses charges. How is that stealing? I didn't want it up there in the first place!"
 
 Mrs. Weisensteing, looking unimpressed: "And the false police report? What was that all about?"
 
 Josh: "It was about all of the molesting of me everyone was doing. Then when I call the police, they come and molest me as well, and the male officer rapes me."
 
 Mrs. Weisensteing: "You mean he sodomized you?"
 
 Josh: "If that's what butt-fucking is."
 
 Mrs. Weisensteing: "Josh, I don't appreciate your language. One more swear word out of you and you'll have more than just money slapping that nice little ass of yours? Got it, mister? The only time you may speak vulgarly is when you're referring to your dick, balls and ass/asshole. Understand?"
 
 Josh, demurely, "Yes, I think so!"
 
 Mrs. Weisensteing: "WHAT?!?!"
 
 Josh: "OK, I got it! I got it!"
 
 Mrs. Weisensteing: "Good! And as for these fabrications of yours..."
 
 Josh: "Fabulous-what?"
 
 Mr. Weisensteing: "She's calling you a liar, Josh. And so am I."
 
 Josh: "But it's the truth. Everyone was feeling my cock, balls and assole, and pretty much every part of me..."
 
 Mrs. Weisensteing: "What of it? That's not molestation. If you weren't a boy, and had an adult penis or a female vagina—a girl's or woman's—that would be molestation. But since you have a dick and two balls, and those of a boy, it is not molestation in the least."
 
 Josh: "But that's not fair. It's descreemation..."
 
 Mrs. Weisensteing: "You mean discrimination."
 
 Josh: "Yeah, that word. It's not right or fair."
 
 Mrs. Weisensteing: "Josh, of course it's fair. How is it fair that girls do not have penises or balls to play with? But you do...or did, I mean? So to make things fair, they have yours...well, not yours, I mean, what's on your body...Oh, you know what I mean."
 
 Josh thought a minute. He then had the audacity to think he could actually reverse the argument on her:
 
 Josh, slyly: "Mom, I don't have a pussy to play with, yet the girls do. So by your own logic, I should be able to play with theirs, or else they should leave mine alone. And why are boys and men also allowed to play with my stuff? Don't they have penises of their own?"
 
 Mrs. Weisensteing, secretly impressed: "You just earned yourself a spanking, young man. And you are NOT to refer to female private parts as 'pussies.' They're vaginas. Only boys' equipment will be so obscenely and disrespectfully desrcribed. We will call them dicks, cocks, peters, balls, nuts. You have the unmitigated gall to sit there [he was, in fact, sitting in the backseat, while Mr Weisensteing drove], and claim that what is good for the gander is good for the goose! The very nerve of you, boy!"
 
 Josh: "I thought the saying went the other w..."
 
 Mrs. Weisensteing: "SILENCE! That's enough of your tone! Or should I threaten a second spanking?"
 
 Josh, showing his mettle: "How come every time you're unable to answer something, I get a spanking?"
 
 Mrs. Weisensteing, unable to answer: "Eeerrr, that's two spankings. Care to make it three?"
 
 Josh: "Why? Is there another question you can't answer?"
 
 Mrs. Weisensteing: "That's it! Three spankings. We could keep going, if you want. Why stop there, right?"
 
 Josh sensed that the question was more rhetorical than probing, and he decided to quit while he was behind, in a manner of speaking. He sank in his seat and began to sulk bitterly. Meanwhile, the car was pulling into the driveway of his house. When they entered the house, Josh immediately noticed that his two sisters were already preparing themselves for school that day. They were dressed in their school clothes and sitting at the dining room table, eating breakfast. Josh realized that he hadn't eaten since Friday (he had lunch before arriving home Friday afternoon, to meet his nightmarish babysitter), so he turned to his parents and announced, "I'm hungry. I haven't ate since Friday." Mrs. Weisensteing responded with maternal affection: "Honey, you can't eat until you get that thing out of your asshole. We're taking you to a doctor to get it removed. We'll go around five."
 
 Josh: "Five? But I'm starving [literally]. Why can't I eat now?"
 
 Mrs. Weisensteing: "Because the blockage could cause complications, as the doctor put it."
 
 Josh: "When did you speak to the doctor?"
 
 Mrs. Weisensteing: "Never mind, Josh. We need to get you ready for school."
 
 Josh perked up, as if there was hope for some covering of his exposed penis: "Do you mean I can wear something?"
 
 Mrs. Weisensteing: "Yes, shoes and brief socks. That's for the trip to school and back, so you can protect your feet. You'll exchange them for a pair of transparent sandals once you arrive at school, to be traded back again when you leave there. The staff will supply them. It's been arranged. But you will wear nothing else. You will be nude at all times except for these small items, and only on these fleeting occasions, until you're fifteen. You will never cover up your dick and ballsack for any reason, unless instructed to do so. Understood?"
 
 Josh nodded, unhappily. Then his eyes widened as something dawned on him: "But what about winter?" he queried, "I'll need some covering for that, won't I?"
 
 Mrs. Weisensteing: "No. It's far more important that others be able to see your nude body at all times than that you feel warmth outside. But we won't keep you out for extended periods of time. We're not trying to freeze you to death or give you hyperthermia. But to answer your question: no, you won't be allowed to cover up—not even so much as a light jacket. We have priorities, you know! Do you understand?"
 
 Josh, sadly: "Yes."
 
 Mrs. Weisensteing: "Good! very good, indeed. Now for starters, let's remove that rope. It must be chafing your hands. But I will only do so if you strictly promise not to touch your genitals...I mean dick and nutsack. Agreed?"
 
 Josh, with a gleam of hope in his eyes: "Agreed!"
 
 Mrs. Weisensteing then promptly removed the rope, and examined the impression the rope left around Josh's wrists. It was surprisingly minimal. She was relieved by that, as she did not wish to damage the boy's fine, exquisite skin. She remembered, however, that she might have to give his backside a few welts, as she had threatened to do earlier. "Josh," she uttered, "It's time to deliver on those spankings I promised." Josh grimaced in anticipation, as if in pain already.
 
 
 
 
 
"New Babsitter," part XI, by Gerste
 
 
 
Mrs. Weisensteing then instructed Josh to turn around, facing away from her, then spread his legs so as to create an isoceles triangle, wider at the base, and bend at the waist, touching the floor with his finger tips or palms—whichever was more feasible. Josh, following her instruction, did this in the hallway entry threshhold to the living room, so that the walls on both sides buttressed his feet, holding them in place to prevent him from doing the splits (which he felt like he was doing). Mrs. Weisensteing touched the belt to his exposed anus to appreciate the distance. When Josh felt it, his anus constricted almost involuntarily and his buttocks quivered in dreaded anticipation. Then it began, just as before: blows at right angles, one across the buttocks, then one in the cleft between the mounds, which struck across the anus and up to the perineum, sometimes hitting the scrotum. She gave him 40 such horizontal strikes, and 40 such vertical, in contual criss-cross fashion. Josh flinched with each blow and bit his lower lip in pain. He innately knew not to bite too hard, and so draw blood in the process.
 
 Once she had finished, she ordered him to stand up and face her (and the girls, who were watching from the kitchen).
 
 Mrs. Weisensteing: "Josh, remember that you have two more spankings coming. The second one will be at school today, and the third when you get home. Just so you know."
 
 Josh didn't say anything. He knew not what to say after that. He just looked down, dejected, and began to wimper.
 
 Mrs. Weisensteing: "Josh, when you get to school, the teacher will instruct you to go to every student in school, beginning with your class mates, and apologize to each of them for hiding your peter and ballsack and asshole from them your whole life. I should give you a spanking just for that alone. Why, the very idea—you, thinking you have something to hide. You're such a good-looking boy, you should be proud to flaunt. Vaunt and flaunt, that's what you should have done all these times, instead of pretending you have the right to hide your goods. What kind of selfish pervert are you...keeping all that to yourself? I didn't raise you to hoard, you know."
 
 Josh was trying to follow her labyrinth of twisted "logic," but it was a bit like picturing a chimera—an impossibly contrived animal.
 
 Mrs. Weisensteing continued: "After you apologize for your former modesty, you are to ask each student if they would like to feel your dick, balls, ass and asshole, got it?"
 
 Josh, somewhat more docile and tractable than erstwhile, but barely making eye contact: "Yes, mom, got it."
 
 Mrs. Weisensteing: You are also to do this on the bus on the way to school and back. Got it?"
 
 Josh: "Yes. May I please be excused to get ready for school?"
 
 Mrs. Weisensteing, changing tones: "Oh, of course, dear. Your shoes and socks are in your room. You have no other clothes there, of course. Wash your feet in the tub, but don't take a bath, and then put them on. Your feet have no doubt gotten very dirty from being barefoot since Friday. If you need to use the bathroom, always remember that you need to ask someone to assist you. You are never allowed to touch your johnson's without the express permission of some grown-up or female. Okay?"
 
 Josh, in a subdued tone: "OK, got it."
 
 With that, he turned to go to his room. En route, he had to pass through the kitchen. He was stopped immediately by his sisters, who ordered him to come over to the table and let them "play with" their "new toy," that being his genitalia, of course. But Josh, aware of the time, said that he needed to get ready for school.
 
 Christy: "OK, you won't come over. Well, wait until mom hears about this. Let me feel your prick, you prick!"
 
 Josh: "Mom was the one who gave me permission to go to my room and get ready in the place, so fuck off, bitch!"
 
 Just then, Mrs. Weisensteing happened into the room, when she heard his foul tongue. "What did I tell you about swearing, young man? And did you actually call your sister a bitch?"
 
 Josh: "Sorry, mom. But they wanted me to allow them to play with my, well, you know what..."
 
 Mrs. Weisensteing: "Your dick! Say it...Let me hear you say it: your dick! What did I tell you about that?"
 
 Josh: "But you told me to get ready for school, so I didn't have time for letting them feel my...well...DICK."
 
 Mrs. Weisensteing: "Josh, if someone wants to fondle your family jewels, or, in this case, publicjewels, you had better let them, or else. It doesn't matter if you're running late. Where the hell are your priorities, young man? Now go over there this instant and let your sisters have a good feel. Time's awasting. You can get ready for school when they're done. And the only reason I'm not spanking your cute little behind right now is that we need you to endure some finger poking of your A-hole for the day. But don't press your luck. Got it?"
 
 Josh, crying again: "Sure. Got it."
 
 With his head downcast, Josh went over to the table where his two sisters were sitting, and allowed them to molest his genitals and ravage his anus with their inquisitive fingers. He wept periodically throughout the painful ordeal, but they seemed impervious to his feelings in the matter. As they fingered his body, they felt the money "pouch" through his lower intestinal wall, resting horizontally (vertically when it was first inserted) on the sigmoid colon. They felt it through the skin, in his groin area. Josh had a petite frame for a nine year old. He normally tipped the scale at a slight 48 pounds, but had lost about 6 pounds since Friday. The item was thus easily palpable through the skin. "Well, I think we found our money," they joked. When they had finished, after about a half hour (32 minutes to be exact), Josh was again allowed to go to his room to prepare for school. He was told by his mother, who held his aim as he urinated into the toilet, that he would be taking the bus.
 
 
 
End of part eleven
 
 
 
 





 

   
(The End)