Chad's Anger Management Training Chapter 32
by Chadlad

copyright 2006 by Chadlad, all rights reserved
chadlad3@yahoo.com

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


Chapter 32:  Lindsay Gets to the Bottom of Alan's Problem

Chad cried uncontrollably over Emily's lap for a good 5
minutes before Mrs. Rose lifted him from under his arms and
plunked him on his rubbery legs, facing the class.  As
before, his legs collapsed from under him the first two
times he tried to stand, but he managed to keep them under
him when she offered to let Emily heat his butt up some
more.  She made him stand there displaying his puffy eyes
and tear-streaked face as well as his tortured genitals
while she procured Kleenexes to wipe the snot and tears from
his face and his chest.  Then, as usual, he was turned
around so that the class could see the effects of Emily's
spanking on his bare butt.  After several minutes in that
position, Chad was ordered to grasp his ankles so the class
could see how far into his butt crack his spanking extended
(as well as get a good look at the boy's anus and his tight
ball sack where his legs joined).  As before, when Chad bent
over, no penis was visible from the back side.  To Cynthia's
disappointment, the white circle of the butt plug obscured
entirely any view of his butt hole. (Emily, who didn't like
looking at butt holes on boys, animals, or even in her own
mirror, thought that the presence of the butt plug improved
Chad's appearance tremendously, especially when he was
viewed from this angle.)

After sniffling there for some minutes, he was allowed to
straighten up again, where he stood facing the class with
his hands behind his head until his crying and hiccupping
had subsided.  His penis finished its disappearing act once
again, and his scrotum flattened itself as much as possible
against his body, outlining each of his small orbs and
emphasizing their immaturity.

At length, Chad's spanking chair was dragged to the left
side of the room instead of the corner.  When Emily asked
why Chad wasn't going to the corner, Mrs. Rose commented
that he had every right to a good view of Alan's discipline,
given that Alan was one of the reasons he'd gotten
disciplined himself.  Chad sat gingerly on the chair,
sniffling and wiping at his eyes, and dutifully brought his
feet up to the first rung, wincing and trying not to burst
out crying at the renewed pain from his sore rump.  "Second
rung," Mrs. Rose ordered.  Chad winced as he carefully
raised his feet to the higher rung.  In this new position,
the centers of his buns screamed with pain, and his buns
spread apart so that the butt plug shifted, pressing more
painfully against his sphincter.  Emily, long since returned
to her seat, sat grinning at Chad mockingly, giving him a
wink every time she caught his eye and patting her hands
together in mocking spanking motions or making squeezing
fists with her hands.

Meanwhile, Alan had been forced to stand naked, with his
nose against the board, during Chad's entire spanking and
his crying session in front of the class afterward.  His
arms were tired, his legs were tired, and his feet were
tired.  But more than that, he was terrified.  He'd been
spanked, paddled, and whipped with a belt by his mother many
times before, but not in public.  He could plead, beg, bawl,
and act like a baby when his mother whipped him, but at
least no one witnessed his humiliating squalling and
wriggling as he was whipped or spanked.  This was going to
be different.  Everyone in class would see every humiliating
detail of his reactions as his butt was soundly paddled. 
They'd see every flinch, every kick, every squeeze of his
butt, and every facial expression as he cried through his
punishment.  They'd all hear him beg and squeal and bawl
like a baby.  They'd all watch his butt redden and blister,
just as he'd watched Chad's and Joey's and Jimmy's butts
redden and blister when they'd had their turns.  As was the
case with them, he'd have to display his genitals from all
sides during this process, and even bend over and let
everyone see his butt hole!  Plus he had the added
humiliation that a 13-year-old girl was going to be the one
administering his punishment, and that this girl was almost
certainly going to restrain him by his balls and probably
squeeze them so hard he couldn't stand it, just as she had
done to Jimmy, and Emily had apparently done to Chad just
now.  He mentally reviewed Jimmy's and Chad's incoherent
sobbing after Emily had given the old family jewels a good
squeeze.  That would be him in just moments!

He wanted it over with.  But he didn't want it to start yet.
Thus, he was relieved and petrified when Mrs. Rose finally
said, "Now that Chad has been finally settled, Mr.
Delvecchio, I think it's time we attended to your
punishment.  Please come stand on the tape line."

Heart pounding, Alan reluctantly turned around and
approached the tape, treating the girls to a lively show as
his long, slender penis bounced from side to side with each
step.  Mrs. Rose had obtained a second spanking chair during
lunch from another classroom, which she slid over to the
center position.  Lindsay seated her willowy form in the
chair and settled the spanking towel on her lap.  Mrs. Rose
spoke.  "Alan Delvecchio, you have engaged in behavior of a
disgusting sort, including actions too egregious to reveal
to your classmates.  Accordingly, you will be punished by a
severe paddling on your bare bottom, to be administered by a
female classmate.  Because she will undoubtedly cause
blisters and other breaks in your skin during this
punishment, you must be checked for cleanliness prior to
your punishment.  Please face the front of the classroom,
bend over all the way, and reach back and separate your
bottom as far as it will go."

Alan assumed the bent over position, his spread bottom
facing the class.  Humiliated as well as frightened, he
pulled his buns slightly apart and looked at Emily sitting
in her front row chair from between his legs.  Mrs. Rose
looked at his butt crack critically from his right side. 
"Wider, Mr. Delvecchio," she commanded.  Alan pulled harder,
separating his cheeks more.  "Wider," she commanded again. 
Alan pulled a bit harder.  "I said Wider, young man" she
chided.  "If I have to do it for you, it's going to hurt."  

Alan pulled his butt cheeks until the skin between them
turned white with stretching.  Mrs. Rose finally seemed
satisfied, and leaned over to inspect the boy's anal area. 
Emily, from her seat about 3 feet away, wrinkled her nose
with distaste.  She enjoyed the sight of the boy's brown
scrotum hanging in the wide space between his legs, and the
sight of the long, thin penis swaying from side to side
gently caused a pleasant tingle in her loins.  But that
brown, wrinkled butt hole was just too disgusting, she
thought.  She wished she could just Photoshop the ugly thing
out of her otherwise pleasant view.  

"Nice and clean, Alan," Mrs. Rose finally concluded.  "Not
surprising, I guess, given that you were already thoroughly
scrubbed earlier, when you were so juvenile as to wet
yourself.  You may go stand by your Discipline Assistant."

She turned to address the class.  "This paddling will be
done differently than most others this year," she began. 
"First, rather than paddling Alan until a particular level
of damage has been caused to his bottom or a particular
number of blows have been administered, or until he shows a
particular level of distress, Lindsay will be giving Alan a
timed paddling.  A timed paddling does not terminate until
the specified amount of time has passed, regardless of how
much damage is done the lad's bottom during that time.  The
duration of your paddling, regardless of damage, shall be
set at 4 minutes."

Alan gasped at this announcement, as did a number of his
classmates.  Four minutes?  Joey's spanking had been about
that long, but he had a much bigger and tougher bottom than
Alan's, and he wasn't being paddled, either, only spanked. 
Mrs. Rose gave Alan a minute for this pronouncement to soak
in.  Then she had more bad news for the trembling boy.

"Second, you will be using this to spank Mr. Delvecchio's
bottom," Mrs. Rose said to Lindsay, flourishing a device
she'd been concealing in her large pockets up to that point. 
Alan, Lindsay, and the rest of the class looked at it, Alan
with horror, everyone else with fascination.   The paddle
was black, with a round wooden handle roughly a hand span in
length. Attached to the handle were a series of 4 strings
made of rubber cord of about 3/16ths inch in diameter.  They
were each about 6 inches long and drooped down from the
handle toward the ground.  The end of each sting was topped
with a slightly bigger rubber bulge.  

"We on the faculty call this 'The Stinger,'" Mrs. Rose
explained.  
"Unlike many other paddles, which were designed for other
purposes like hitting ping-pong balls, stirring paint, or
brushing hair, this device was specifically designed to
cause severe pain in child, adolescent, and even adult
bottoms.  When swung at the bottom of a miscreant, the
little knob on each string creates its own intense sting, so
it's like being hit by 4 little whips at once.  I've been
told it feels much like being stung by 4 bees
simultaneously.  Each knob raises a welt, but the welts are
so small that a boy can withstand many of them without
breaking the skin excessively.  It also is unlikely to cause
permanent damage to a boy's anus or scrotum if one of the
knobs happens to strike those structures, although it will
create welts on them.  It will also cause severe testicular
pain if it strikes a boy's testis, but again will not cause
permanent damage.  As a result, no care need be taken to
avoid these structures during the paddling."

Alan was trembling violently now.  Multiple bee stings?  Can
be used on his balls and his butt hole?  He was feeling
faint.  Mrs. Rose went on.  "I've only used this particular
paddle once before, but I can assure you that the boy on the
receiving end was very, very sorry by the time his paddling
was done.  He was also very loud while being paddled and for
quite some time afterward, and he had a very hard time
holding still and staying over my lap.  For that reason, Mr.
Delvecchio, you will have to be restrained by more than your
genitals while being spanked, and you will have to be gagged
as well."

She turned to Lindsay.  "Now before we restrain Alan, I want
you to try a few experimental swings, to get a feel for the
paddle.  We want him to feel extreme pain, but we don't want
to cause him serious damage."  She walked to the closet,
retrieving an oddly shaped pillow. She held it up for the
class to see.  All the children, especially Alan, stared at
it.  It was shaped, they realized, exactly like the bare
torso of a boy of medium size.  Two thigh-like projections
came out of the bottom, terminating at about knee level. 
The other end of the pillow ended at about mid stomach.  In
between was a fairly accurate duplicate of the twin mounds
of a plump adolescent boy's butt.  How accurate was quickly
demonstrated when Mrs. Rose first separated the twin orbs of
the pillow, to show the stitched in asterisk located where
the anus would be, and then turned the pillow around so they
could see that a tube and small sack dangled from the front. 


"I borrowed this from the office.  We call it a practice
boy, or PB for short," Mrs. Rose said.  "Mrs. De La Salle
made this one for the middle school and a smaller one for
the grade school teachers.  She's really quite a whiz on the
sewing machine.  It's excellent for practicing the right
level of swing to use on real boys.  The stuffing is just
about right to duplicate the resiliency of the average boy's
gluteal muscles."  She placed the pillow on Lindsay's lap in
the position Alan's butt would occupy in a moment.  She then
handed the wicked looking paddle to Lindsay.  "Go ahead and
give the PB a swing, and we'll see how you do."  Lindsay
brought her hand back and swung the paddle, the rubber
knobbed cords striking the pillow firmly.  Alan jumped at
the noise it made when it landed, squeezing his buns
together as if he was imagining the little rubber knobs
already stinging his unprotected flesh.  The watching class
laughed at his reaction.  Dust came out of the pillow and it
made a soft, thwacking sound.  "That was good, dear, but you
can strike him harder than that. Under all that soft skin,
adolescent boys have quite muscular little butts."

Lindsay raised her hand and brought the paddle down on the
pillow again, dealing it a vicious blow that landed with a
loud thwack and caused a cloud of dust to fly out of it.
Alan jumped again and squeezed his butt together twice this
time, sending the class into hysterics.  "Not quite that
hard, dear," Mrs. Rose chided, as Lindsay sneezed.  "We
don't want you to break the skin too early, only to cause
major pain.  It's not that blows that hard would damage Alan
permanently, but we want you to be able to continue through
the full 4 minutes, and if you strike his bare bottom that
hard I'm afraid that we'd have to stop early."  

Lindsay tried a third blow, which landed sharply on the
pillow and raised dust from it, but not as much as
previously.  Alan flinched and tightened his butt again,
sending the class into hysterics.  Chad and the other boys
were looking at the wicked paddle with awe, the girls with
amusement, and Alan with stark horror.  "That's about right
as your starting level, dear," Mrs. Rose said approvingly.
"That should sting unbearably, but he should be able to take
quite a few of those before the blisters form.  You can
increase the strength of each blow during the final minute,"
she said calmly.  Alan, meanwhile, had started whimpering,
his lower lip trembling and tears starting to well up in his
eyes.  He stared at the paddle as if it was a group of 4
coiled snakes about to strike him (a pretty accurate
assessment on his part).

"You'll want to strike him about once every 3 seconds, to
allow time for the pain of each swat to soak in before the
next one lands.  Just count 'a thousand one, a thousand two,
a thousand three' between each swing.  That way, Alan will
receive about 80 swats during the 4 minutes, which would be
just about perfect considering the particular paddle being
used and the size and maturity of his naughty bottom," Mrs.
Rose said coldly, as if Alan were an interesting specimen
they were examining rather than a young adolescent boy who
was standing right there listening.

She walked to her desk, reached into her bottom drawer, and
retrieved a set of tangled cords.  She walked to the
violently trembling Alan and knelt on the ground in front of
him.  Untangling the cords, she extracted two straps with
long Velcro bands on each end.  She flexed the straps to
show that they were actually bungee cords.  "These are leg
straps for restraining boys who are to be paddled severely,"
she explained as she firmly wrapped a Velcro strap around
each of Alan's bare ankles.  "You've probably never seen
them before, because they're used only on boys from the 7th
grade on up, and then only in the more severe cases when it
is necessary to subject a young boy like yourself to serious
levels of pain."  

This final pronouncement of "serious levels of pain," was
too much for Alan.  His long, thin penis twitched and then
released the contents of his bladder onto the ground right
next to the seated Lindsay. Mrs. Rose stepped back quickly,
out of the range of fire.  The class erupted into laughter. 
"I guess she scared the piss out of him," Joey commented to
his friends over the hooting and giggling of the class.

"What did you say, Mr. Turpin?" Mrs. Rose said sternly.

"Uhhhhh, I said you scared the pee out of him," Joey said,
trying to look innocent.

"I certainly hope that's what you said," she snapped.  "You
know that I have paddles that hurt even more than this one." 
She turned to the uncomfortably seated Chad, who was trying
without much success to ignore the butt plug that he was
sitting upon.  Because he was facing Alan's butt, he had not
had as clear a view of him peeing on the floor as everyone
else, but he saw the spatter and he saw his classmates'
reactions.  He was feeling sorry for Alan.  "Take the towel
from my desk and wipe that up, Mr. Henson," Mrs. Rose
ordered.  Chad got up, wincing as his sore butt muscles were
stretched, brining new tears to his eyes.  He moved over to
the desk, walking bowlegged because of the soreness of his
bottom as well as because of the discomfort of the plug. He
grabbed the towel, and waddled over to Mrs. Rose, looking at
her quizzically.  She pointed to the puddle on the floor. 
"Wipe that up, and be quick about it," he ordered.  "We have
a naughty bottom to paddle."

Chad bent down and began mopping the floor.  Fortunately for
him, he was facing the class, and thus did not treat them to
the sight of his red bottom with the plug sticking out of
his distended hole.  Mrs. Rose addressed Alan.  "Are you
done wetting everything in sight, young man?" she asked
severely.  "Or is there even more of that inside you ready
to erupt?"

Alan looked at the floor, his heart pounding.  He'd peed on
the floor in class!  This hadn't been deliberate, as when he
had peed his underwear to hide the evidence of his earlier
orgasm.  He'd lost control in fear, like a baby!  He'd never
wet his pants in fright before, but then he'd never been so
scared in his whole life, not even when his mother stood
over him with a belt in her hand.  He vowed to himself he
would never, never, never touch another boy's genitals or
butt again without being absolutely sure the boy wanted him
to.  "I'm done," he managed to croak out.  "I think," he
added.  Chad put the towel to one side and went and sat on
his chair again, wincing as he obediently raised his feet to
the second rung.

"Good," said Mrs. Rose. "I'm extending your diaper time to 6
days."  She wrapped the straps of the leg restraints that
she'd already attached to Alan around each of the legs of
the chair.  There now was about a foot of slack cord joining
each of Alan's ankles to the chair in which Lindsay was
seated.  It was clear to everyone that when in spanking
position he might be able to straighten his legs or kick
out, but only by fighting the pull of the elastic cords.

She took the paddle back from Lindsay.  "Take him over your
lap, Lindsay," she instructed.  "Given the severity of this
case, I suggest you restrain him only by his scrotum."  

Alan's eyes widened as he heard this, and widened further as
Lindsay grasped his delicate testes firmly in her fist and
pulled him across her lap, settling his genitals in between
her legs as she had done to Jimmy.  She squeezed just enough
to raise discomfort, making Alan acutely aware that she
could increase the strength of her grip at any moment, but
not being unnecessarily cruel.  Once he was in the
horizontal, little boy spanking position, Mrs. Rose swiftly
took one of Alan's dangling arms by the wrist and attached
an arm restraint to it, attaching the other end to the chair
leg on that side.  She then repeated the process with Alan's
other arm.  The arm restraints were much shorter than the
leg restrains, allowing his arms only about 6 inches of
movement before the cords began stretching. 

"Try to kick your legs and arms, Alan," Mrs. Rose
instructed.  Alan experimented with movement of all 4 limbs. 
He found he could move a bit, but once he started stretching
the cords his movements were brought to a gentle stop, so he
could not raise his legs higher than straight out from his
body, and his arms couldn't even go that high.  His arms and
legs also tired quickly fighting against the elastic pull of
the cords.  Movement of his torso was blocked by Lindsay's
grip on his vulnerable balls.

"Excellent.  You now appear sufficiently restrained.  All
that remains is to muffle your voice so that you do not
disturb the whole school when you paddling starts," she
said.  "Normally in a case like this, we would use the boy's
own underpants as a gag to muffle his cries, but in your
case I assume you would prefer we use something else, am I
correct, Mr. Delvecchio?"

Alan looked up over his shoulder and nodded vigorously.  He
was all too aware that his white briefs were soaked with his
own pee from his successful attempt to hide the evidence of
his earlier orgasm.  He certainly didn't want them in his
mouth in that condition.  Mrs. Rose walked over by her desk
and came up with a ball of white cloth, bringing the ball to
the front of the class.

She spoke to Alan.  "Once I insert this gag, it will greatly
muffle your voice and make it impossible to talk. Do you
have anything to say, Mr. Delvecchio, before I insert your
gag?"

Alan swallowed, blinking back tears and trembling.  "I – I-
I- I'm sorrrrrrrrry!" he croaked.  He looked at her wild-
eyed.

"I'm sure you are," Mrs. Rose said.  

"He'll be even sorrier in a few minutes," Emily muttered to
her friends, creating a round of laughter.  Alan, who was
only 3 feet from Emily and could hear every comment she
made, winced and tensed his butt briefly.

"All right, then.  Open your mouth and let me get as much of
this in there as I can," Mrs. Rose instructed.  Alan did as
he was told, and she stuffed most of the ball into his open
mouth, affixed a Velcro strap across the protruding section
and around the back of his head.  Alan worked his jar
muscles, finding his mouth completely filled with cloth.  He
swallowed convulsively, but his mouth remained completely
dry, as the cotton cloth soaked up whatever saliva he
produced.  

"Try yelling," Mrs. Rose suggested.  Alan tensed and
attempted to shout, but only a muffled "Uuuuuuuuuhh,"
penetrated the gag.  

"You're read for punishment," she stated.  She turned to the
class.  "Alan Delvecchio, you have violated school rules by
urinating in an inappropriate place and by encouraging Chad
to do so, resulting in him receiving a spanking as well. 
You have also engaged in a much more serious behavior which
will not be named, but which is primarily responsible for
the severity of the punishment you are about to receive. 
You will now be paddled with The Stinger for 4 minutes." 
She paused and looked at the class.  All the children's eyes
were on Alan's bare bottom, most glistening with excitement. 
The girls, especially, were dying to see the effects of the
unusual new device for punishing boys' butts.  "Lindsay,
this young boy needs a good paddling.  When I signal, you
may begin to paddle him."

Alan looked fearfully over his shoulder at Lindsay's
upraised arm.  All the other children leaned forward, their
eyes glued on the raised paddle.  Chad also leaned forward. 
He actually had the best view in the house of Alan's butt. 
He was seated to the left of the classroom so he was about
10 feet straight behind Alan's restrained legs, the boy's
bent and spread butt straight on to him.  He found himself
studying Alan's dark brown butt hole, noting with surprise
that it was twitching with nervousness, squeezing tightly
and then relaxing and then squeezing again, in almost
constant motion.  Chad was also surprised by how much Alan's
scrotum bulged out between his legs, and by the little rope
of a penis swaying slightly in the center.  He wouldn't want
to be in Alan's place, right now, but he'd love to have
genitals like that, Chad thought.

Mrs. Rose suddenly said, "Begin," and the paddle snapped
down, creating an odd thwapping sound on Alan's bare skin. 
Alan stiffened.  It was like 4 bees had suddenly stung the
center of his right butt cheek right next to each other
simultaneously.  He tried to squeal in pain, but only
managed to produce a muted moan through the gag.  A few
seconds later, 4 more bees stung his left bun, leading to
another attempt at squealing that also only produced a moan. 


Tears flowed out of Alan's eyes and rolled copiously down
his cheeks.  He repeatedly flexed his butt trying to drive
away the pain, but stinging pain didn't abate at all. 
Meanwhile, a third set of 4 bees stung him, one deep in his
butt crack.  He convulsed several times, causing additional
pain as Lindsay guided his thrashing pelvis to a stop with
her grip on his scrotum.  Four more bees stung the helpless
boy, this time near the top of his butt, and he convulsed
again, shrieking loudly enough that some of the shriek
carried beyond his gag.  Mrs. Rose had said that The Stinger
would be very painful, but that turned out to be a gross
understatement. It wasn't like the spankings, paddlings, or
belt whippings his mother had given him that set Alan's butt
on fire. No, it was more like a bunch of little needle
pricks, burning in intense little points all over his
vulnerable butt.  In fact, it wasn't so much the pain of a
needle prick – it was more of a hot needle-under-the skin
kind of pain.  It was like an entire swarm of bees had
embedded their stingers in Alan's butt and were now wiggling
them back and forth under his skin.  At the same time, more
bees kept joining the party.

From Chad's angle, the view was clear, fascinating, and
alarming.  By the fifth blow, Alan was developing little
red, raised spots from the earlier blows where the little
knob on each string had dug into his tender bottom skin. 
Each welt was small in diameter, but stood out, raised
slightly above the skin around it.  As Lindsay landed her
6th, 7th, and 8th blows on the boy's vulnerable bottom, Chad
noticed that the paddle would land, Alan would jerk and
moan, and then a blow or two later the 4 new red spots would
rise out of Alan's tender bottom as if by magic.  

Chad was impressed by Alan's kicking legs as well – despite
being restrained, Alan thrashed his legs with each blow,
squeezing his butt as the paddle struck, holding his butt
squeezed tightly for a moment, and then giving a couple of
quick twitches before relaxing just before the next blow
hit.  The boy inhaled audibly through his nose with each
blow, then moaned into the gag, his moans becoming louder as
the seconds passed.  Chad noted that the boy's butt hole was
convulsing continuously now, sucking in on itself and then
relaxing to normal size with each spank.

Alan, meanwhile, had lost track of anything but the myriad
of bees that were stinging his completely unprotected butt. 
His vision was blurry and indistinct from crying.  All he
could hear was that horrible thwapping sound that signaled
renewed, unbearable stinging, and the ever present sounds of
his own moaning.  He was acutely aware of the straps binding
his arms and legs – he kept jerking them to their limits,
only to find his movement halted by the elastic and his
hands and legs gently pulled back.  Lindsay's left hand was
in his consciousness, too, as a constant unpleasant dull
ache in his balls.  That ache would become more intense each
time he involuntarily shifted his butt too far and she would
use her grip to center his bottom again.  But mostly, Alan's
universe was narrowed to his now red-speckled light brown
butt, and the horrible, stinging pain coming from the almost
7 dozen individual little welts on it.

"One minute," Mrs. Rose said loudly. "Three to go."

One minute? thought Alan in wonder.  How could it have been
only one minute?  It had to have been an hour!  He must have
received at least 20 whacks from that awful thing by now,
and each one left 4 vivid stings on his bottom.  He could
swear he could feel all 80 pinpoints individually, each one
feeling like an individual needle burrowing in his flesh. 
His throat was hoarse from squealing, even though the gag
muffled his efforts.  More fires lit on his butt as Lindsay
methodically moved the paddle around, making sure rubber
knob tips hit him everywhere.  He had to get away!  He
couldn't stand this!  He flailed his arms and legs and
twisted his torso as much as he could.  The only result was
that his arms and legs quickly tired fighting the elastic
cords, and he briefly became more painfully aware of his
balls than his burning butt as Lindsay gave him a hard
squeeze and pulled his midsection firmly back down.

Chad was shocked by the appearance of Alan's butt as they
passed the two minute mark.  The little red welts were
everywhere, marring the smooth light brown skin of the boy's
formerly almost unblemished bottom.  Alan was clearly in
intense agony, moaning loudly through the gag and thrashing
about continuously.  His butt hole was still in motion,
seeming never to tire.  Chad was fascinated by it.  Here up
to a couple of days ago, he hadn't really looked at anyone
else's butt hole, and now he'd seen several, up close and
personal (too close, in the case of his brother's and the
orifice of his brother's friend Jesse).  He'd never seen
another boy spanked bare butt before, either, and now he'd
seen 3 spankings.  Also, he'd gotten spanked himself 3
times, he thought ruefully.  He wished he could have skipped
that particular part of it.   


Lindsay continued methodically beating Alan's butt, looking
for places to create new welts that had been underserved up
to that point.  As she was approaching the 3-minute mark,
she noticed that Alan had sagged over her lap, sobbing
uncontrollably but too tired and broken to thrash about any
more.  In this new position, his butt had opened much more
widely, presenting his largely unwhipped butt crack as an
inviting target.  Might as well cover everything, she
thought, as she angled her hand so that the loops entered
the previously untouched crack.  

The result was instantaneous and electric.  The loops landed
in the general location of the boy's vulnerable butt hole. 
As they landed, Alan suddenly came to life, thrashing
violently and shaking from side to side, so that only her
vice-like grip on his scrotum kept him from turning
completely sideways.  An unearthly sound came from his
gagged mouth, a sort of high-pitched squeal that wavered and
then tapered into a deep moan.  Simultaneously, Lindsay felt
warm wetness on the back of her gripping hand, where the
boy's soft penis was trapped between her grip on his scrotum
and his stomach.  She paused a moment in her blows.  "Mrs.
Rose," she said loudly, to be heard over Alan's loud
moaning.  "He just wet on me."

"That's why you have a towel, dear," Mrs. Rose replied, just
as loudly.  "Alan obviously has a problem with bladder
control when he gets overexcited, and blows that strike the
anal area are generally very painful for young boys and
probably over-stimulate him.  The last boy I spanked with
The Stinger did the same thing to me.  Please continue with
Alan's paddling.  I'm going to have to add 15 seconds to his
time to make up for this break."  

Irritated by the boy's nerve in peeing on her, Lindsay
landed a second, third, and fourth blow on the boy's
vulnerable crack, each landing right around his anus.  Each
one resulted in similar thrashing and loud moaning and
little squirts of renewed wetness on her hand. It's like the
old saying, she thought, grinning to herself. I'm spanking
the piss out of him.  

Chad was shocked by the number of little red welts that
appeared as Lindsay peppered Alan's crack with blows.  He
leaned closer, trying to see the boy's thrashing,
contracting bottom more clearly.  At least 4 of the last few
welts were right on the wrinkles of his butt hole!  Man,
that had to hurt!  He was glad he'd just gotten hit with a
normal paddle when he'd been paddled.

Just when Alan thought he'd explode from the level of pain
emanating from his butt, his butt hole, and his tightly
squeezed balls, he faintly heard Mrs. Rose say, "four
minutes – 15 seconds to go."  But his relief at the nearness
of the end was short-lived.  Lindsay shifted her target,
aiming for the smooth, untouched brown skin between the
boy's legs, just above his currently tightly gripped
scrotum.  The next blow landed right on target, resulting in
Alan straining every muscle in his body to arch his back,
fling back his head, and moan piteously and loudly, even
through the gag.  As the boy's butt was tightly squeezed
together, Lindsay has to content herself with striking only
the surface of his buns with the next 3 blows, but made up
for it by increasing the strength of those blows, so that
each made 4 much brighter welts.  Mrs. Rose nodded approval. 
"That's the way, Lindsay.  Make your last spanks count!" she
commanded.


Alan, unable to drive off the intense burning needles in his
butt by squeezing his buns together and finding that the new
blows on his tensed butt hurt even more, relaxed his butt
just as Lindsay was preparing her last swing.  She angled
the paddle so that all 4 cords were funneled into the boy's
now separated crack, so that all 4 cords landed on Alan's
twitching butt hole.  Alan tensed every muscle in his body,
arched his back, shot his legs straight out, and became a
trapped, whining, thrashing beast, expending all his reserve
energy in a flurry of motion.  Lindsay pulled hard on the
boy's scrotum, pinning his wildly thrashing pelvis to her
lap and grinding his small balls together in the process. 
She then released her grip, and used her left hand to steady
the boy as he continued convulsing.  She dropped the paddle
on the floor and began massaging the quivering butt cheeks
while Alan shrieked and wailed as loud as he could through
the gag.  A small puddle of snot and tears had spread on the
floor under his head.

As the pain of his balls being ground together receded to a
dull ache, he noticed the thwapping noises had stopped, and
no new bees were joining the million or so that had already
stung him.  Those stings, though, were still loudly
announcing their presence with unbearable, shooting pains
that were being heightened by Lindsay's kneading hand.  For
the first time he became aware of the warm dampness of the
towel on his genitals and his stomach.  Oh my gosh, he
thought.  I peed on her while she was paddling me!  I don't
remember doing that!  

Actually, thinking about it, he didn't remember much of
anything about his paddling except the long, continuous
explosions of white hot, needle sharp pain in his butt and
the sharp ache that periodically burst from his squeezed
scrotum.  

He realized he didn't care that he'd peed on himself.  He
was in too much pain to be embarrassed.  He really couldn't
think of anything for any length of time but his stinging,
aching, blazing butt.  Those pains were still with him, but
could think fleeting thoughts about something besides the
white-hot pain now. 

He realized he'd probably cemented the nickname "Whizzer,"
for good.  He'd whizzed in the shower, he'd whizzed in his
underpants before lunch, he'd whizzed on the floor in fright
before being spanked, and he'd whizzed on the DA during his
spanking.  And he was going to spend 6 days in diapers,
during which he'd probably whiz at least twice a day and
have to be changed.  He'd be stuck with that name for good!

It took 10 minutes for Alan to recover enough to stand on
his own feet, and then he could do so only while leaning on
Mrs. Rose while tears continued to stream down his face. His
sore butt was thrust out behind him at an angle, still
covered with little red welts, some of which had become
blisters.  In releasing him, Mrs. Rose had first removed his
leg restraints, and then the arm restraints, while the boy
sagged over Lindsay's lap, too sore to move.  The gag was
left in, and it was fortunate that it was, because Alan
shrieked in agony as he was forced to flex those blistered
bottom muscles to gain his feet.  He stood there facing the
class as Lindsay arose, wiping her damp hand on the towel. 
The dampness on Alan's genitals was ignored.  The tip of the
boy's penis glistened in the classroom lights, his loss of
control and the shame of it visible to all.

Mrs. Rose supported him for a few more minutes, then forced
him to stand on his own and turn his back to the class so
his butt could be examined by all.  There were gasps and
expressions of amazement as the rest of the class saw what
Chad had seen so clearly from his view point – the myriad of
little red blisters covering the boy's entire bottom.  Randy
Martinez, always fascinated by numbers, did some
calculation.  Alan had, by his count, received 83 whacks
with The Stinger.  Each whack made 4 separate welts.  That
came to 332 welts, if he was calculating correctly.  He
could swear he could see each one of them on Alan's bottom. 
When Mrs. Rose made Alan bend over, it was clear that the
welts continued into his butt crack, at least 7 on the boy's
butt hole itself, and another 4 making nasty red welts on
the normally smooth skin between the boy's butt hole and
scrotum.   Randy shuddered.  He vowed that he was going to
be very, very good.  He certainly didn't ever want to be
introduced to The Stinger up close and personal, the way
Alan just had been!