Chad's Anger Management Training Chapter 33
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 33: The Gag, the Plug, and the Jar  

Now that Alan's paddling was over, the main show was
concluded. Chad was sent to the corner in his punishment
chair.  Lindsay was excused to the girls' room to vigorously
wash her befouled hand.  Alan cried in front of the class
for another 15 minutes, then quieted down enough that Mrs.
Rose could wipe his swollen, tear-stained, snot-covered
face.  She left the gag in while she took wipes and scrubbed
Alan's still damp genitals in front of the class, first
wiping the long, flaccid penis, causing it to immediately
become half hard and rose to the point that its single eye
was pointing right at Emily.  "Better watch out, Em," the
girl next to her whispered.  "That thing might go off!"   

Mrs. Rose, having obtained a clean wipe, then took Alan's
thin, hard, helmeted organ in her fist and pulled it firmly
up out of the way while she scrubbed the wrinkles of the
boy's sack roughly, briefly increasing the flow of tears
down his face.  Letting go and disposing of that wipe, she
took several new ones in her right hand.  Holding the boy's
penis again in an iron grip to steady him, she reached
behind the boy and began vigorously rubbing down his sore,
welted buttocks, causing renewed bawling from Alan as the
wipes stung the sensitive, sore skin.  His bawling
intensified as she forced his buttocks apart, roughly wiping
his welted anus as well.

Tossing the wipes in the waste basket, Mrs. Rose finally
unfastened the Velcro strap and pulled the now soaked gag
out of Alan's mouth.  Alan's crying became louder as he
flexed his jaw and swallowed repeatedly, still crying.  Mrs.
Rose shook out the gag and looked at it.  She held the cloth
up so that the class could see that it was actually a very
damp pair of boys' briefs.  "I'm afraid you're going to have
to borrow some punishment underpants to wear home, Chad,"
she remarked.  "Alan appears to have gotten yours quite
damp, and I don't think they'll dry before time to go home."

Alan's eyes bugged out as her words dawned on him.  Mrs.
Rose had used Chad's underwear as his gag?  The underwear
that had been on Chad's butt this morning until he'd changed
into his diaper?  What part of Chad's briefs had been in
contact with his tongue? He knew which part he hoped wasn't!
As Mrs. Rose turned the underpants first one way and then
the other for the class to see, Alan frantically scanned the
lower back part of the underwear.  He was somewhat relieved
to see that the portion of the briefs which had encased
Chad's lower buttocks appeared to be fairly dry, so that
part probably hadn't been in contact with his mouth.  That
area also appeared to be clean, Alan also noted to his
relief.  

His relief was short lived, though, as Mrs. Rose rotated
Chad's underwear so that the class could see the back and he
could see the front.  The front of the white briefs were
sopping wet with his saliva, in fact so wet that the cloth
was almost transparent.  And the pouch in front was the
wettest – it must have been in contact with the inside of
Alan's mouth the whole time he was being paddled!  Alan
fought down the urge to gag, as he remembered that he
himself almost always got a drop or two on his own
underpants pouch whenever he went pee.  What had he read on
the bathroom wall in a gas station once?  "No matter how you
shake and dance, the last drop always lands in your pants,"
was what it said.  He'd had a bladder infection when he was
12, and had been given an antibiotic that made his pee
bright orange while he was taking it.  He remembered being
shocked at the orange spots he made in his undies every time
he peed.  No matter how hard he tried, he'd get at least one
drop on his undies every time, and sometimes two or three. 
If Chad had peed that morning, (and what boy didn't pee just
before going into class) there must almost certainly have
been drops of his pee in the underwear Alan had just had in
his mouth.  And the underwear wasn't just sitting there, he
realized, thinking back.  He'd bit down on it and chewed on
it to control his pain and crying, he'd drooled into it as
he cried uncontrollably, and he'd been forced to swallow the
accumulating moisture that had soaked the underwear or else
drool on the floor shamefully.  

He fought off another urge to gag.  Although he'd
experimented with sex with boys for more than a year, up to
this point he'd only looked at and touched their genitals,
nothing else.  Last year, then 7th grader Scott Smiley had
sucked his wiener several times, an experience he'd found
incredibly pleasurable and would have like to continue.  But
Scott had insisted after that that he wasn't doing it any
more unless Alan would suck him in return.  Alan had tried
to bring himself to do it, because he really did like it
when Scott would do him.  But he couldn't get past the fact
that pee came out of that little slit in the front of it. 
He liked messing with other boys' wieners a lot, but he
couldn't bring himself to put one in his mouth.  Every time
he thought about trying it, he would picture the bright
orange spots on his own undies, and where they had come
from, and he would pull away.  Scott had finally lost
patience with him and went off to find other playmates less
finicky about what went into their mouths.  And now Mrs.
Rose had tricked him into putting underpants Chad had
probably dripped on into his mouth!   He went into another
fit of gagging.

Meanwhile, the class had gone into utter hysterics, once
they learned that Alan had been gagged with Chad's used
underpants.  The began shouting out comments about having
underpants breath, and asking Alan how Chad's butt had
tasted along with other quite unsavory questions.  Mrs.
Rose, grinning inwardly at the boy's sick look and frantic
gagging, hung the underwear from the front bulletin board
with a push pin and then quieted the class.

It was another 10 long minutes before Alan was able to
regain control of his revulsion and residual crying enough
to raise his hand and request to be sent to the corner. 
Mrs. Rose made him apologize to the class repeatedly, first
for having to see his naked body and disgusting privates and
witness his punishment, second for peeing on the floor prior
to being paddled, third for being so misbehaved that he had
to be gagged and restrained, fourth for peeing on Lindsay
while being spanked, and fifth to Chad for getting his
underpants all wet.  After Alan had stammered through this
list, gagging and almost throwing up during the apology to
Chad, she then reminded him that in addition to his other
punishments, he was having his diaper time extended for 3
additional days, for a total of 6, primarily due to his
repeated loss of urinary control during punishment.  

The front corner of the classroom opposite Chad's location
was hastily cleared, and Alan's chair was placed in it.
Alan, walking like he was treading on sharp gravel, his
hands hovering over but afraid to touch his still stinging,
welted buttocks, was led to the borrowed punishment chair by
Mrs. Rose.  When he hesitated to sit due to the agony caused
by stretching the large muscles of his butt as well as the
sensitivity of the clusters of welts on the surface, she
pushed him into the chair firmly and lifted each foot to the
2nd rung, leaving the boy shifting in agony and bawling
loudly at the pressure of the wooden seat on his incredibly
sore bottom.  

Alan continued to cry through the next hour, shifting
continually on the seat and pausing only to take in great
gulps of air and hiccup from time to time.  He eventually
quieted down as the class went about its daily routine, but
kept shifting positions, as each small welt still burned
like a small needle.  

At about 1:30, the overall silence was interrupted by the
sound, this time from the 8th grade class down the hall, of
a teacher's bare hand striking some unfortunate boy's bare
butt.  Everyone in the 7th grade strained to listen, but
could hear no sound from the boy being spanked, only the
loud smacks of a strong hand on bare flesh for some time. 
After what was, by Chad's count, the 33rd spank, a shaky
adolescent voice could be heard pleading for the teacher to
stop, then crying out more and more loudly with pain with
each spank afterward.  Eventually the cries were replaced
with low-pitched adolescent bawling.  Chad and the rest of
the class were amazed – from the low pitch of the voice,
this was a big, big boy, even more grown up than Joey.  Yet
he'd been broken to crying by the 8th grade teacher with
just her bare hand.  She must spank hard!

At the 70th bare handed smack, by Chad's count, there was a
pause in the smacking sounds.  The 8th grade boy continued
sobbing.  That must be it, she's done, Chad thought to
himself.  But moments later the cries resumed much more
loudly, this time accompanied by an unfamiliar smacking
noise that didn't sound like either the crisp whacks of the
wooden paddle that had warmed Chad's defenseless behind nor
the soft whaps of The Stinger that Alan had become all too
personally familiar with.  Children looked at Mrs. Rose with
puzzled expressions.  "Leather strap," she said calmly. 
"Mrs. Amahl is quite fond of it."

The strap landed only 5 times on the howling 8th grader, but
his howls had become loud blubbering crying by the 4th blow,
and the blubbering continued afterward for some time,
diminishing gradually in loudness.  As the older boy's cries
diminished, the 7th grade could hear loud laughter from the
building next door, soon followed by the measured cracks of
a teacher's hand on still another defenseless boy's bare
skin and his immediate, high-pitched howls. The fact it was
coming from across the way meant that it was a grade
schooler who was getting his bare butt spanked this time,
probably a 5th or 6th grader by the tone of the voice.  Chad
having nothing to do in the corner but think about his sore
butt, the painful plug in his anus, and whether his mother
would kill him when he got home, idly counted the spanks,
finally ending up with 50 by the time the teacher stopped. 
The boy's howling continued, increasing at one point along
with a burst of classroom laughter and the teacher saying
something that he couldn't make out.  

Chad allowed himself to entertain the fantasy that it was
his brother Tommy who had just gotten spanked on his little
fat rump, but of course it wasn't – the voice was all wrong. 
While he was regretting that, he noticed that a new
sensation had been building up in his lower regions. His
small penis erected itself, sticking straight from his
groin.  It took him a moment to sort out the sensations from
the full feeling of the plug and realize that he hadn't peed
all afternoon, and urgently needed to.  He raised his hand,
index finger extended, and frantically waved it in the air.

Mrs. Rose pointed ignored Chad's wildly waving hand for a
good 5 minutes, as the urge to go built up in Chad and his
waving became more frantic.  Finally Cynthia spoke up. 
"Mrs. Rose," she said.  "I think Chad has to go to the
bathroom."  

"Have you forgotten you're on diaper punishment, young man?"
Mrs. Rose said sternly.  "You aren't allowed to use the
bathroom, you can only go in your diaper.  Now put your hand
down."

"If I can't use the bathroom, can I have my diaper now,
please?" Chad pleaded. 

"Have you also forgotten that boys who've just been spanked
bare bottomed stay bare-bottomed and sit in the corner until
the end of the school day?" Mrs. Rose asked pointedly.  "Or
is it that you've forgotten you were just spanked?  Perhaps
you need a reminder."

"No, ma'am," Chad said quickly.  Talk about being between a
rock and a hard place!  He waited a beat, but the burning
urge in him made him press on.  "But I've really gotta go!"
he begged.  "Can't I have my diaper early?"

Mrs. Rose frowned.  "Mr. Henson, you are much more trouble
than you're worth.  Come to the tape line and we'll discuss
it."

Chad got up slowly, wondering whether he was going to get
spanked again.  The giggles of his classmates immediately
started.  He assumed they were giggling at his bouncing hard
on, but saw their attention was fixed on Mrs. Rose.  As he
turned his head, he suddenly understood the source of their
glee – she had her pee jar out!  She was going to make him
pee in front of the class!

"Never mind, Mrs. Rose," Chad backpedaled.  "I can hold it. 
I'll just go back to my chair."

"Nonsense," Mrs. Rose replied.  "I've already got my jar
out."  She guided Chad to the tape line and held the jar in
front of Chad's still erect member, forcing it down with her
hand until she'd trapped the end in the mouth of the jar. 
Emily smirked at Chad, his penis clearly visible through the
glass.  Mrs. Rose looked at Chad.  "You said you had to go
so bad you couldn't wait an hour.  So go!"  She glared at
Chad.

Chad stood there, staring at his penis.  The jar felt cold
on the tip of his organ.  Every girl in class and most of
the boys, too, were looking at Chad with bright, shining
eyes.  A few of the girls were merely excited at the chance
to see any boy pee – some of them had never even seen a
penis before seeing Chad's two days ago.  Some had little
brothers or were experienced in baby sitting so that peeing
boys were old hat, but still enjoyed the seeing a boy their
age being forced to pee in plain sight of everyone. Most of
the boys merely enjoyed the chance to put down one of their
number, raising their own stock by comparison.   Mrs. Rose
shifted her weight, changing the angle of the jar.  "Come
on, young man.  I haven't got all day," she chided.

Chad's bladder sphincter clenched tightly under all the
pressure.  Every eye but Alan's was on him, waiting to cheer
as liquid erupted from his phallus.  He stood there dumbly,
trying to make his shy bladder relax.  He had to go so bad
the base of his penis hurt, yet he couldn't make the pee
come out!  He tried to figure out how to get out of this
one.

After standing holding the bottle in front of Chad's pulsing
but non-erupting penis for about a minute, Mrs. Rose became
impatient.  "I'm giving you 30 seconds more to urinate,
young man.  If you don't go by that time, we'll have to take
more drastic measures."

More drastic measures?  Chad thought with dismay.  What did
that mean?  It certainly sounded bad.  Emily was smiling
broadly at him from her seat.  He tried squeezing his butt,
but the butt plug made that quite painful.  He tried
thinking about running water.  He tried shutting his eyes
and pretending he was taking a nice shower and just letting
his pee go.  Nothing happened.

"Time's up," Mrs. Rose said.  "I guess we'll have to try
something else."

She sat down the jar.  Cynthia spoke up.  "Mrs. Rose," she
said timidly.  "I think I know why Chad can't pee."

"Why, because he enjoys making a spectacle of himself and
wasting our time?" Emily said archly.

"No.  I think it's because he's all hard," Cynthia said
seriously. "My little brother says he has trouble making the
pee come out when he's all hard like that, so maybe Chad has
trouble peeing like that, too.  Besides, he has that big
thing up his butt.  I bet you couldn't pee either, Emily, if
you had a big thing stuffed up your butt," Cynthia said
sympathetically.  

"I've got a big thing I'd like to stuff up both their
butts," Joey muttered, only loud enough for the boys around
him to hear.  They began raucous laughter, which Mrs. Rose
attributed to Cynthia's remark and chose to ignore.  She
answered Cynthia instead.  "The plug shouldn't stop him from
begin able to go, and it needs to stay in for the rest of
the day as part of his punishment, anyway.  But you might be
right about his erection making urination difficult.  We'll
need to make him get rid of it, suppose."

"I could rub it until he does that thing where he gets all
tense and then relaxes, Mrs. Rose," Cynthia said hopefully. 
"That made his boy thing get soft when I did it yesterday. 
I bet it would today, too."

Mrs. Rose looked at Cynthia knowingly.  "There's no need for
you to go to that trouble, dear," she said.  "Your idea
would indeed probably work.  But it would also give him
great amounts of pleasure, when what he deserves is pain. 
It might also give him a certain amount of prestige among
the boys in this class, when what he deserves is
humiliation.  So thank you, but your services won't be
necessary."

She turned to Chad.  "Would you prefer humiliation or pain?"
she asked him.  

Chad looked at her blankly, his still rock hard penis
bobbing with his movement.  "Wh- wh- what do you mean?" he
stammered.

"There are two ways we can make your penis get soft enough
to allow you to relieve yourself.   One is extremely
humiliating, the other extremely painful.  Which do you
want, humiliation or pain?" she challenged again.

Chad wanted to say neither, but he knew that wouldn't work –
she'd probably just give him both if he did.  "What kind of
pain?" he asked tentatively.

"A bare-bottomed spanking with The Stinger," she replied
matter of factly.  "That certainly worked on Alan." 

Chad flinched, covering his butt with his hands.  "NO!" he
said forcefully.  "Not The Stinger!" 

"Then I guess it has to be humiliation," she replied calmly. 
"You've made your choice.  Your public humiliation will be
that you will have to bring yourself to orgasm right here,
in front of your classmates.  I'll give you 3 minutes to do
so.  If you haven't orgasmed by then, we'll proceed to the
spanking alternative."  

Chad stared at her in disbelief.  She wanted him to jack
himself off?  Here?  In front of the class?  With Emily,
Lindsay, Cynthia, and all the other girls watching, not to
mention all the boys?  He looked at Mrs. Rose with horror.

"Timer is starting now, Mr. Henson," she said calmly. 
"You'd best get started.  Unless you'd like to be paddled
with The Stinger just like young Mr. Delvecchio!"

Chad hesitated, then reached his right hand down and gripped
his penis, stroking it slowly, then more rapidly.  The
girls, who with the exception of Lindsay had never seen any
boy masturbate, were amazed at the sight of his hand
stroking his hard penis with little, short movements so that
he didn't lose his grip on the small organ.  The boys, on
the other hand, all of whom masturbated themselves using one
technique or another, were amazed he had the nerve to do it,
and were surprised that he turned his hand so that the thumb
and index finger faced his groin rather than the usual male
technique of using a fist with the thumb and forefinger near
the tip.  Randy stared at Chad's technique, puzzled for a
moment.  "Oh," he finally said aloud, so that most of the
class heard him.  "It's so short he can't use his whole
fist!"  Too late, Randy realized he'd just revealed way more
information about himself and his own techniques of self-
stimulation than he'd planned with his comment.  Blushing,
he slid down in his chair and tried to ignore the laughing
class.

Chad had hoped his penis would start shrinking on its own if
he stroked it a few times, but it stubbornly got harder. 
Might as well just get it over with, he thought to himself,
increasing the speed of his hand until it reached his
usually blur of motion when he jacked off.  He was surprised
to find that, as had been the case when he'd been forced to
jerk off in front of his brother, that having an audience
was totally humiliating but increased his excitement.  He
began the usual involuntary butt tensing that accompanied
the build up of pleasure inside him, discovering that each
contraction of his butt squeezed the plug, creating a
heightened pleasure/pain mixture that just drove his desire. 
Before Mrs. Rose had even announced the minute mark, Chad
was rising up on his toes, thrusting his pelvis and his
pulsing penis at Emily and shuddering through the most
powerful orgasm he'd ever had in his life.  His usually
grunting noises were even louder this time, as his butt hole
sent out pain signals to combine with and heighten the
pleasure of the orgasm.  The world became a white mass of
sensation for a moment, then gradually swam into focus, and
he realized Emily was smirking at him, and the class was
laughing hysterically at his grimaces and grunts during his
performance.  He also noted his butt hole burned and that
his penis was shrinking rapidly and the urge to pee was
overwhelming him.  He lunged for the jar and got it under
his penis just in time.  Liquid surged out and filled the
jar about a quarter full.  Chad marveled how hot the jar
suddenly became.  He must really be warm inside!

The class was still laughing and pointing, making imitations
of his sounds during orgasm, and jacking imaginary penises
while grinning at Chad and nudging each other.  Mrs. Rose
took the jar and sat it on Emily's desk, to her
consternation.  

"I believe now would be a good time to remove your plug,
since you're already distracting us from our work, anyway,"
Mrs. Rose said.  "Turn around and bend over, please, and
spread your bottom apart."

Chad hated that position, but he perked up at the prospect
of having the uncomfortable plug removed.  He cautiously
turned around and bent over, spreading his butt cheeks with
his hands.  The white plug centered in his butt gaped back
at the children. She ought to just leave it in, Emily
thought to herself once again.  She liked looking at the
rest of them, but boys looked so much better with their
disgusting poop holes hidden.

"Now hold still – this is going to hurt a quite a bit coming
out," Mrs. Rose said.  "You'll have to push really hard,
like you're defecating, and push it out while I pull."  The
class dissolved into hysterics again at the use of the
scatological term.  Mrs. Rose turned and spoke to them
sharply.  "Quiet, please.  Mr. Henson is going to need to
concentrate.  This is going to be quite painful for him."

Chad shuddered at her repeating that it was going to be
painful.  Did she have to keep saying that?

Mrs. Rose addressed him again.  "Young man, as I said, push
out like you're trying to defecate.  Don't stop pushing even
if it hurts a lot."  Chad bent over farther, trying to make
his butt as open as he could, and bore down with his pelvic
muscles, trying to push out the plug.  Mrs. Rose grasped the
metal ring attached to the end of the plug and began
pulling.  Nothing happened for a few seconds, except that
his butt hole felt unbearably stretched. Chad pushed harder. 
The plug still didn't move, but he did manage to make
several embarrassing grunting noises that he knew would come
back to haunt him in the days to come.  He paused in his
pushing, panting.

Mrs. Rose gripped her right hand with her left and ordered,
"Push harder, young man, or I'll paddle you for the rest of
the day!"  Fear shot through Chad, and the additional muscle
tension it caused proved to be enough.  The plug popped out
with a soft, wet plopping sound accompanied by a brief shot
of unbearable pain that caused Chad to grip his ankles
tightly and begin crying loudly.  The class gaped in
amazement as Chad's butt hole remained open for at least 20
seconds before twitching several times and suddenly closing
fluidly and tightly.  

Mrs. Rose, who had been watching it intensely, gave a nod of
satisfaction as it closed.  "It always takes them awhile to
come to life afterward," she said, almost to herself. She
recovered her poise.  "Stand up and turn around, young man,"
she said.  Chad followed her instructions and stood there
facing the class, trying to calm his crying.  His butt hole
now burned intensely, but at least the awful fullness was
gone.  A glance at his little wiener confirmed it was
sporting its usual post orgasmic, swollen head look.  At
least the day's almost over, he thought to himself.  A
sudden realization made him go cold.  It's not almost over,
he realized, his penis sagging limply.  It's just begun.  I
gotta go home and explain all this to Mom! 

Of course, the school day itself wasn't over yet.  While he
was contemplating the fact that he was going to have to go
home and face his mother, Mrs. Rose handed him the jar.  It
was still quite warm with his residual body heat.  "Take
this to the boys' room, young man, dump it in a urinal, and
rinse it out well.  Then dry it with towels and bring it
back."

Chad knew better than to ask if he could have clothing or a
diaper to wear while making this trip.  He started toward
the classroom door, holding the jar in front of him.  As he
reached to the back of the classroom, Mrs. Rose added, "and
if you meet anyone walking to or from the bathroom, you have
to tell them that you're having to dump the jar and clean it
out, because you were such a baby that you couldn't wait
until the end of school and had to pee in front of the
class.  And remember, no using the bathroom, and no covering
your privates in the halls."

They're not private, anyway, Chad thought to himself. 
Everybody sees them all the time.  He carefully opened the
door and began hurrying down the hall, his floppy but still
extended penis wagging merrily as he walked.  He wondered to
himself how boys in primitive times and places, where
everyone went naked, could stand to have their wieners
bouncing around like that all the time.  What happened when
they ran?  Well, he could guess what happened when they ran
– they bounced around like little ping-pong balls in a bingo
machine!

Chad was hoping not to meet anybody, but that hope was
dashed immediately.  He had barely started down the hall
when a girl roughly his size came out of the adjoining
classroom.  "Oh," she said, startled at almost bumping into
a naked boy with a red butt holding a jar in front of him. 
"You're one of those who just got spanked, aren't you?" she
said brightly.

"I was the first one," Chad admitted.  "But it was Alan
Delvecchio who you heard just awhile ago.  He got his butt
whipped with the thing with the strings hanging from it, but
he didn't make as much noise as me because he had my
underpants in his mouth as a gag.  His butt is lots more
blistered than mine.  And some kid in 6th grade got it,
too."

The girl glanced down at Chad's genitals.  "They should make
all you boys go naked all the time," she said.  "Your little
thingies are so cute!"

Chad grimaced at hearing the word "cute" again.  Just once,
he'd like to hear a girl describe his genitals as manly, or
impressive, or something like that.  He was sick of being
cute.  He glanced down at his crotch.  The heck of it was,
she was right.  His little penis was being cute at the
moment, about an inch of it protruding above his neat little
sack.  He suddenly remembered what he was supposed to say. 
"My teacher said I have to tell you that I'm taking the jar
to the boys' bathroom because I couldn't hold it and had to
pee in front of the whole class."  His voice had dropped
almost to a whisper at the last part, and his face blushed
bright red.

"Wish I'd have seen that," the girl said, tossing her head
and skipping away.  She twisted around, walking backwards,
as she retreated down the hall.  "Nice butt," she called
mockingly.  "Looks good red.  You boys should be spanked
every day so you remember that we girls are the bosses.  And
you should all have to go naked all the time, so we can look
at your cute little thingies and you little boy butts," she
said as she skipped away.

Chad heaved a sigh of relief as the boy's bathroom came into
sight, but then almost collided with a younger boy coming
out.  "Watch out!" Chad said, hugging the jar to his body. 
"You almost made me spill it!"

"What's that?"  The boy asked, wrinkling his nose.  "It
looks like pee!"

"It is pee," Chad said.  "I have to go dump it in the
bathroom, because I couldn't hold it and had to pee in front
of the class."

The younger kid looked worried.  "They make you pee in front
of the class in middle school?" he asked incredulously.

"Not usually," Chan admitted.  "But I'm in diapers because I
peed on Mrs. Rose when she was giving me a spankin', and
then I got spanked today for peeing in the shower in the
nurse's office.  And usually after you get spanked you're
allowed to go the bathroom when you're done crying, except
you have to go to the bathroom naked, but since I lost my
bathroom privileges and can't cover up my privates or my
butt for the rest of the day, she made me pee in front the
class," Chad explained in a rush.

"You must have felt like a real dork standing in front all
those girls and stuff with your dick sticking out, having to
pee in a jar!"  The boy said in amazement.  "How'd you relax
enough to let it out with everybody watching you?"  He
asked.  "I can hardly do it with someone standing next to me
in the boys' bathroom."

Chad was glad he didn't have to explain about having to jerk
off in front of the class to make his wiener soft enough so
he could pee.  But he might as well have – it would be all
over the school 10 minutes after the bell rang, he knew.  He
proceeded on into the bathroom, where he dumped his jar and
washed it thoroughly.  He turned around and stood on his
tiptoes to look at his butt in the mirror over the sink.  It
didn't look so bad.  Emily had made him red all over, but he
had hardly any blisters.  He blushed in humiliation,
remembering what it felt like to be over his enemy's lap,
crying like a baby while getting his butt spanked.  He had
never felt so helpless in his life.  He remembered her smug
smirk afterward every time she looked at him.  The satisfied
look on her face made his skin crawl and his butt throb.

Chad was able to make it safely back to his classroom with
the jar without meeting anyone else.  The rest of the school
day passed without incident, Alan having stopped crying in
his corner, Chad staring at the wall in his.  Finally, he
was called out of the corner to dress to go home.  As Mrs.
Rose had predicted, his undies weren't dry, so they were
left hanging from the bulletin board and he was forced to
wear a pair of punishment underpants like he'd had 2 days
ago, with the embarrassing "I just got spanked" logo
stitched into the waistband on both sides.  Emily gave his
penis a good yank as Mrs. Rose was retrieving them, but he
got the rest of his clothes on without incident, and he was
grateful that today he was allowed to wear his pants,
although Mrs. Rose insisted that the waistband of the
underwear be pulled above the waistband of his pants, so
that the "I just got spanked" logo showed clearly.  "And
you'd better not try to cover it up on the way home," she
chided.  "Children I know will be watching you, and they'll
report back to me if you try to hide the waistband before
you get to your house."

Allen was called out of his corner next, and given his shirt
and a pair of punishment underpants.  Like the ones Chad had
received, Allen's underpants had the words "I just got
spanked," stitched into the waist band on both the front and
the back.  This pair, however, had a different cartoon
picture on it.  On the pouch barely enclosing Alan's
genitals, there was a picture of a boy with his hands behind
his head, peeing freely on the ground.  "Looks just like
you," Emily remarked, reaching across her desk to pat the
front of the pouch.  Alan's genitals immediately fell out of
the side of the pouch.  Emily leaped back in mock horror. 
"It's attacking," she squeaked, causing Alan to blush and
the class to go into hysterics.