Tommy's Attitude Adjustment Chapter 15 by Chadlad copyright 2007 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 15: Gabriel Gets Even Tommy's frantic clawing at his butt and genitals continued for some time, accompanied by intermittent moans and complaints about burning. The watching Girl Scouts found his antics hilarious, with some having trouble breathing they were laughing so hard. Tommy was so focused on the burning of his private parts that he was oblivious to their mocking calls. He continued walking jerkily in circles, trying with increasing fervor to rub away the burn or wash it off with spit. He'd already attempted to get to the hose, but Beth had warned him back with a wave of her switch toward his bare butt. His frantic ministrations had made the tip of his penis sopping wet with spit and he was working more spit in between his buns when Beth spoke up. "You might as well not bother with doing any more slobbering, little brother. Cinnamon oil is just that, an oil. It won't wash off in liquids like water or spit. All you're doing with all that rubbing is spreading it around so it burns more. You could wash some of it off with soap, I suppose, or thin it out with baby oil or something like that, but I'm not about to let you do that. So you might as well stop spitting on yourself and calm down and wait for it to wear off. The more you rub it, the worse it gets." Tommy had let go of the tip of his penis, which still bobbed in front of him, rock hard and beet red at the tip. He was now standing half- crouched, unable to hold still and fighting not to rub himself. "But it burns!" he wailed, tears flowing down his cheeks and snot gathering under his nose. "Yep," Beth replied. "That's what it says on the bottle," she added. She pulled the bottle out of her pocket and began reading. "Excellent for foot or full body massage. Dilute in body oils before use at the rate of 1 dropper-full per 4 to 8 ounces. Avoid application to eyes and to mucus membranes. That would be places like your butt hole and your pee hole, I'm guessing. May cause sensitization in some people. May cause a burning sensation, sometimes intense, that generally subsides in 15 to 20 minutes but may last half an hour or more. Do not take internally. Well, your dick and your butt hole really aren't internal, are they?" She slipped the bottle back in her pocket. "I got it from a friend of mine who works for a health food store. She said she'd put some on her boy friend's dick and he practically yanked his dick off to get rid of the burn, so I knew I had to have some. I was going to give it to Mom next time Chad screwed up, but you got to have some first," she added. She looked sideways at Chad and Gabriel. "Don't feel left out. I'm betting the two of you will get first hand experience with it soon enough." Tommy continued to moan and hop around, alternately crouching over his penis and arching his back and squeezing his butt as hard as he could. The Girl Scouts continued to laugh. "What's all the ruckus?" came a voice from over the fence. All heads turned to see that old Mr. Winston was now peering over the fence into the yard, wearing his old straw hat and holding a garden shovel. "Just punishing my brother," Beth replied pleasantly. "Must be working, he's pretty loud," the old man commented. "I just put a drop of two of cinnamon oil on him," Beth responded. "It's harmless." Mr. Winston chuckled. "That one's got a decent sized pecker on him. Bet he's glad he's not like the other boy, what's his name. You know, the one with the dinky little pecker who cleaned out my koi pond." "Dinky little pecker?" Beth said more loudly, so the Girl Scouts could hear her. "Oh, you mean Chad, of course," Beth said, smiling. She nodded in his direction. Mr. Winston looked. "Yeah, that's him – the one who looks like a toddler under his britches. Hey, boy – you start growing any hair yet?" he inquired of Chad over the fence. Chad looked at the ground. "Guess not," Mr. Winston said. "Well, don't worry, your time will come." He looked at Tommy more closely. "Looks like he's got some kind of writing on him," he commented. "We were just labeling his body parts for the girls," Beth replied. "A lot of them haven't had much of a chance to see a naked boy their age, so Karen and I were instructing them what's what." "Good for you, girl!" Mr. Winston said approvingly. "Boys are too namby-pamby these days to suit me! Always afraid someone's gonna see their little peckers, making such a big deal out of it. In my day a boy was proud of his pecker, even the guys with little ones like Chad over there. I remember many a time a chum of mine got a whoppin' right out in the open, with his pants and drawers down and all his merchandise hanging out for the girls to see! Wasn't any girls in my neighborhood who didn't know what each and every boy who lived around there looked like under his drawers, let me tell you! I think that's one of the things that helped me win Mrs. Winston," he chuckled. "One look when I was gettin' a britches dusting and she set her cap on me from then on!" He beamed at the company gathered in the back yard. "You ask me, more of the parents and older sisters around here need to give the boys in their households a few good public whoppings. Takes 'em down a peg and makes 'em less cocky." He paused a minute, then regarded Chad again. "You know, youngster, you kind of remind me of Petey Schnell," he added. "Little guy like you – didn't have a pecker worth beans. Why, when I was hanging down practically to my knees, he still had a little thing wouldn't have made a mouthful for a ferret. Why, he could be skinny dipping with the rest of us boys and get excited, if you know what I mean, and none of us would even notice! Now us bigger guys, that was another story – could get kinda embarrassing." "I hope Tommy's noise isn't disturbing you," Beth said. "We were about to paddle him but if it's bothering you we can do it inside." "Oh, no, don't worry about me and Mrs. Winston," the old man said. "Won't bother us none. I've sure heard enough boys bawling over the years when they got their britches tanned. Why, I remember once when Petey's old man caught him in the woodshed with a bottle of the old man's best scotch. You know, Petey Schnell, the same one I was telling you? We used to call him 'Dinky' for obvious reasons. Anyway, his old man caught him out there, just getting ready to take a swig straight from the bottle. I still remember it to this day. 'Give me the bottle, son,' he said to Petey. 'I don't want to risk losing good scotch over this.' And Petey, he hands the old man the bottle just as friendly as you please, just like they was old friends sharing a drink. The old man carries the bottle outside and sets it down as nice as you please by an old stump in the yard, then he kind of saunters back to the shed like he's not up to anything. All of a sudden he just jumps like a pouncing cat and he's got Petey by the ears, and he's dragging him outside into the yard and over to the stump. Well, nobody had and fences back then, so soon as Petey started squalling 'cause of being pulled by the ears we all ran over where we could see what was going on. Even though we were in the yard next door you could see everything that happened in the shed and in the yard, too. And there's Petey, being drug by his ears into the yard and trying to get loose, and his old man letting go of him and then yanking his pants and drawers down, quick as a bunny. Ole Petey didn't have no behind on him at all, so his pants just slid right off. And Petey knows he's gonna get a lickin' so he tries to get away, but the old man's got him by the arm by then, and twists it over Petey's back. And Petey is yelling 'nooooo' and 'please pa, not here,' but the old man just pays him no mind and sits down on the stump and yanks Petey over his lap. The he reaches down and grabs the bottle and he says to Petey, real loud, 'You wanted my scotch? Here, I'll share the rest with you." The he tilts the bottle up and gulps down a big swig, smacking his lips while Petey's still struggling to get away. The he takes the bottle and shoves the neck of it right up Petey's behind, and pushes it in a good way." The old man beamed over the fence at all of them, staring at him, spellbound. "Then what happened?" Jessica asked. "What happened? The bottle just stood up there, pointed up in the air, stuck up Petey's behind. But I'm sure it didn't feel too good, and then the scotch must have got to burning down inside of Petey, and he starts a hollerin' and a kickin' and a beggin' his pa to take the bottle out again, but his pa just keeps sayin', 'you wanted it inside you, well, that's where it's goin'!' and he pushed the neck of the bottle even further into him! I tell you, we all thought Petey was gonna scream his head off, then! He just lay there squalling with that bottle waving in the air behind him. Then his father picks up a handy shingle that's right there by the stump, and he starts paddling Petey's bottom, reaching right around the bottle to get all of it. He must've given him 50 whacks with it, so Petey was bawlin' to beat the band by the time he got done. Then he just picks Petey up and stands him on his feet, still holding the bottle in his behind, and he tells Petey that he has to hold the bottle there himself and stand there until he tells him different, with the bottom tilted higher than the top, without moving or pulling up his pants, or he's gonna take the belt to him. Then he stalks off to the house, leaving Petey standing there by the stump with his pants and drawers around his ankles, holding the bottle in his bottom and bawling like a banshee. Of course, once the old man left we all scrambled over there to look him over. You never saw a kid so red faced," he added. He looked at Tommy, still clenching his buns and moaning. "'cept for maybe this one. You all right there, boy?" he asked with mild concern. "Your pecker's kind of red." "That's the cinnamon oil," Beth reminded him. "It kind of burns." "Probably no more than he deserves," Mr. Winston said with certainty. "A boy needs his behind woke up now and then, I've always said. It reminds him of his place. Did I say that already? Man, you should have seen ole Petey that day – he stood there the whole half hour with that bottle up his behind. It took him two hands to hold the bottle, so everything he had was hanging out, which wasn't much, did I tell you we called him Dinky? I think every kid in the neighborhood was in his yard by the time his old man yelled out the door for him to get that bottle out of his behind and pull up his britches and get in the house." He grinned in remembrance, then turned his head as the prancing Tommy caught his attention. "Did you say you were going to warm this one's britches in a bit?" "We were just about to paddle him," Beth said. "When he calms down from the cinnamon oil. He hurt his cousin, so his cousin is going to do it." She indicated Gabriel, standing by Chad. "Oh, didn't see you there, boy," Mr. Winston said. "Well, do a good job on him, then. The missus and I might drop by afore the hollerin' starts, just to see how it's going. I don't think she ever liked that one," he added, jerking a thumb at Tommy. "Said he was kinda uppity. Don't be afraid to put some elbow grease into it, boy. You look kinda spindly," he added to Gabriel. "Boy's got to really feel it if a britches warming is going to do its job." "Yes, sir," Gabriel said, looking respectful. "I'll do my best." Mr. Winston nodded and his head disappeared from over the wall. The assembled group watched Tommy prance around gripping his butt and fighting to keep from rubbing his burning penis tip and butt hole for several minutes. Beth went into the kitchen and returned with more soft drinks and a bowls of pretzels and chips, and the company settled down to quiet munching for a bit. Finally, after 15 or 20 minutes, Tommy's prancing got less driven, and his moaning began to subside. Beth rose and retrieved a washcloth, which she wet down from the hose. She approached Tommy. "Hush, now," she said. She mopped Tommy's face with the cold cloth, wiping his tears and snot and quieting his final moans. She then turned him to face the girls. "Enough pussy-footing around, let's punish this brat. Thomas Henson, you've behaved with great cruelty toward your little cousin and caused him great pain, and showed no remorse for your actions. Because of this, you are now going to be paddled on your bare butt by your little cousin until your butt is well-blistered and your cousin is satisfied that you've been punished enough for today. You will submit yourself to punishment voluntarily by assuming the position over your cousin's lap now." Gabriel had pulled a sturdy, armless wooden chair from the dining room over to a position in front of the now once again seated girls, and seated himself on it. He picked up the paddle and patted his lap with it. "Bottoms up, cousin," he said cheerfully. "I'm gonna blister your butt!" His penis tip and butt hole still burning uncomfortably, Tommy walked over to Gabriel's side He stopped before bending over and looked at Gabriel. "I'm sorry I hurt you," he said to Gabriel, his voice abnormally high and shaking. "I didn't mean to. Come on, you don't have to do this. How about if I do all your chores for a month?" Gabriel looked at Tommy with scorn. Tommy tried again. "Look, I'll give you my Ipod, too! You can have it! And my Gameboy! Then we'll be even!" Gabriel smiled at Tommy. "No way," he said. "I don't want any of that stuff. I wanna make you cry in front of all these girls! I wanna blister your butt so you remember what you did every time you sit down for a month! I wanna squash your balls, too! I want to hear you cry and beg like a little boy! Now get over my lap so I can get started!" "Pleeeeeeease!" Tommy said whiningly. Gabriel just gestured over his lap. Sighing, Tommy got on his knees beside the boy's chair and draped himself across Gabriel's lap. He hated this position – it made him feel like he was a 3-year- old being chastised for misbehavior. The reality of it hit him full force – he was naked, totally naked, with a whole bunch of girls watching, and he was about to get paddled, a real hard, long paddling, right in front of them! He'd seen Chad get paddled, squalling like a two-year-old, his nose running and his eyes puffy and his legs flailing. He'd thought it was funny when he'd taken Chad across his lap, forcing him to lie there while he worked at making his butt hurt and laughed when Chad had cried. Now it didn't seem funny at all! Now he was the one who was going to lie there helplessly and probably cry. He was the one whose butt was going to burn like fire, who was going to be sporting little red blisters and sobbing when his punishment was done. Beth had walked to the table, returning with Velcro straps similar to those used in Chad's school to restrain boys for punishment. "Put your hands in the small of your back – no, not like that – cross them over and grab each wrist with the other hand, like this." She bound the boy's wrists together with his hands crossed. "Try to reach your butt," she said. Tommy strained, but his hands would only go down to barely above his butt crack, leaving his bottom unprotected. "Excellent," she said. She addressed the girls "This is going to be a very painful paddling, so I don't think he'd be able to keep his hands off his little butt once things start getting hot. But this way he'll be helpless." "Are you going to tie his legs, too?" Vanessa asked. "No," Beth said. "We'll let him kick all he wants – he can't protect his butt with his legs, after all, and I know from experience that boys getting paddled are particularly cute when they start kicking their legs – it makes all their little secrets visible to everyone." "I don't like his butt where it is," Gabriel complained. "It's too far back." Beth walked over to Tommy, darting an arm between his slightly parted legs and cupping his genitals, then lifted him by them and settled him farther forward, so that his head dipped lower and his butt was higher and more bent. "Hold him by his little marble bag," She commanded Gabriel. "But not too tightly, yet." Gabriel wormed his hand under Tommy's stomach, groping for and finally finding his scrotum. Tommy felt Gabriel's fingers close around the base, trapping his balls away from his body in their loose sack. "Hey, be careful!" he protested. "That hurts!" "Good," Gabriel said, squeezing a bit harder. "I'm glad." Tommy looked fearfully over his shoulder as Gabriel fussed with his butt, shifting him a bit more forward. He could feel the boy's firm grip on his balls, just tight enough to be uncomfortable and serve as a warning of pain to come. The underside of his penis was against the back of Gabriel's hand. Despite his fear, Gabriel's constant shifting of his grip was making him hard again.. This is going to hurt, he told himself. It's really going to hurt. He vowed not to be a baby like Chad and to at least try not to cry. Beth leaned over and whispered in Gabriel's ear. "Hit him hard to start with – maybe even as hard as you can swing. You want him to start crying right away – it's more humiliating for him that way, plus we want him to feel a lot of pain. Aim for the lower center of his butt to start with – just picture where his butt hole is and hit him right over top of it. Keep hitting him right there in the same spot until he's crying good, then spread your spanks out to cover his entire butt. Squeeze his balls if he tries to get away or cover himself." She straightened up and spoke to Tommy. "In a moment, Gabriel is going to begin paddling your naughty butt, young man. Once he starts, he's not going to stop until your butt is completely blistered at the very least, and he probably will keep paddling you even after that – it'll be up to him when to stop, just like you decided when to stop hurting him last night. You may cry all you want, and kick your feet all you want, too, but you can't kick so hard you start to fall off. If you start falling off, Gabriel will hold you in place by squeezing your little marbles. If you get away from him, I'll make you get back on, and then I'll whip your boy parts when your paddling is done with the switch. If you're a good boy your entire paddling, after you're done you'll be allowed to cry yourself out here in the back yard, and then you'll be pottied and sent to bed for the day. "But it's early afternoon!" Tommy protested. "It won't be by the time you're done," Beth said grimly. "This paddling's going to last quite a while, and then you'll probably cry for an hour or more after your paddling. It's really going to hurt! And you're staying here in the yard on display until you stop crying. You won't go in until you're completely tear-free." Seeing movement out of the corner of her eye, Beth looked up. Mr. and Mrs. Winston were walking into the yard, each carrying their own lawn chairs in one hand and a frosty drink, apparently alcoholic, in the other. Noting her glance, Mr. Winston called, "Don't mind us – we brought our own chairs! The missus said she didn't want to miss it! Got him trussed up good, I see! Carry on, youngster," He added to Gabriel. "Give him a few good ones for me!" Beth smiled at them and turned her attention back to Tommy. "Shut your eyes and open your mouth, " she ordered. "Why?" Tommy asked. "Squeeze him, Gabriel," Beth commanded. Gabriel's hand clamped down where it was circling Tommy's scrotum, briefly grinding his balls together. Tommy jerked, his legs shooting out behind him and his back arching, his face contorted with the effort to keep from crying out. Gabriel loosened his grip, but the ache in Tommy's balls remained, only gradually diminishing. Beth waited a moment for Tommy to relax and sag back across Gabriel. "See," she said. "Disobedience equals pain. Now shut your eyes and open your mouth." Tommy reluctantly obeyed. He felt cloth being jammed into his mouth, most of it dry, but the part shoved against his tongue cold and wet and salty-tasting. What the heck was that about? Beth kept cramming cloth into him until his mouth was full. "Okay, open your eyes again," Beth said. Tommy opened his eyes, trying to look down and see the cloth protruding from his mouth. He caught a glimpse of white. His eyes bugged as realization hit him. His underpants! Beth had promised to gag him with his underpants! He'd peed his underpants! He had pee in his mouth! The look of horror on his face was immediately noted by Beth. "That's right, little brother. You've been gagged with your own underpants. I warned you about peeing yourself. I put the wet spot right against your tongue." The girls roared with laughter, and Gabriel began giggling, too. Tommy felt sick. He tried to push the gag out with his tongue, but the cloth was crammed too tightly into his mouth and he couldn't move it. The salty taste against his tongue made the back of his throat convulse, and he felt for a moment like he was going to throw up. An explosion of pain and a loud smack of wood on bare skin made all thoughts of peed underpants disappear. Pain! Searing, hot, unbearable pain! A circle of Tommy's butt was on fire, spanning his crack and centering on his butt hole. It burned all the way in, overwhelming him and dominating his thoughts. He jerked, squeaking like a cat toy that had been stepped on. The pain peaked and leveled off, while Tommy sucked in breath and tried to steady himself. Before he could yelp, a second explosion of pain from exactly the same location tripled his discomfort, and he threw his head back and emitted an underpants-muffled squeal. Tears were already forming in the corners of his eyes. His lower butt was on fire! Beth had been right, after all! The spanking he'd gotten that morning was nothing, just a friendly little warm-up. This hurt! Before he could finish that thought, the third blow landed with a low, fleshy crack, quadrupling his pain again. Screw being tough, Tommy thought. He flung his head back and began full-throated bawling, considerably muffled by his wet underpants. He kicked his legs madly, trying to diminish the searing pain in his butt. Couldn't that little asshole of a cousin hit him anywhere but the one spot? Asshole. That wasn't the right word to be thinking – all he could feel was his own asshole, and the circle of white pain surrounding it. Tommy wanted, more than anything, to reach back and grip his butt with both hands, to block that terrible paddle from striking him again, but his hands were tied uselessly beind him. He make his hands into fists instead. A fifth crack of the paddle was accompanied by an even greater explosion of searing red agony. He bawled louder, blowing snot from his nose as he did, his face contorted with pain, tears streaming freely down his face. Dimly, off in the background, he was away of Gabriel's sweaty little hand tugging at his ball sack, and girls cheering and shouting taunts in the background, but he couldn't comprehend any of that, only the white hot spot right over his butt hole. "Stop! Stop!" he tried to scream, but it only came out as loud wails through his gag. Gabriel was amazed at the effect he was having on the much bigger boy. Tommy was crying, screaming already, flailing his legs and tensing his tied arms, stiffening so strongly with each blow that he had to grip his cousin's balls more firmly to keep him still. The first blow of the paddle had started turning pink by the time he'd landed the second, his cousin had an angry red circle in the lower center by the time he'd landed the third, and the fourth blow left splotchy red marks that were rapidly becoming rough and bumpy. The boy's butt convulsed with each blow, his legs kicking. On the sixth blow, Gabriel shifted and spanked his cousins left bun right in the center, and he landed the next blow on the corresponding spot on the right buttock. After that, he just moved them around, looking for lighter colored skin and striking there. A sense of power grew in him as he continued paddling his squalling cousin. He could just hit this kid anywhere he wanted, and the kid had to take it! He thought of himself, helpless under this kid's weight, the hard rod painfully invading his butt hole. Well, he wasn't helpless now! He gave his cousin a sharp tug on his scrotum, briefly grinding his hard balls together and enjoying the way Tommy's muffled squeals went up an octave when he did. Tommy was in constant motion on his lap – shifting this way and that as he kicked and squealed and arched his back and fought helplessly with his tied arms. The older boy's butt was becoming the most fascinating shade of red, with a line of little dark red blisters already visible down his crack and in the lower center where the paddling had started. He noticed his arm was starting to tire, so he renewed his effort – the big meany hadn't suffered nearly enough yet! Tommy, for his part, was now screaming "My butt! My butt! My butt! My butt!" continuously into the gag, although it was totally incomprehensible to anyone else. His butt was all he was aware of – even the dim awareness of the grip on his vulnerable balls was gone. Everything around him was blurry, and his face was sopping wet and smeared with snot. He wished his hands were free so he could wipe his face, get the snot off his lip, clear his eyes. Every explosion of pain in his butt made that part hotter and more unbearable than the rest, until the next explosion made that newly attacked part unbearable. He squeezed his butt as hard as he could, trying to drive the pain out, only to discover that being paddled on a tensed butt hurt even more. Gabriel, focused on his task, began talking to Tommy, first softly, then more and more loudly as he strained to keep swinging the paddle with rapidly tiring, little-boy arm muscles. His cousin's butt was mottled red with blisters everywhere, now. "Yeah, you big meany," he panted, short of breath from his paddling efforts. "Yeah! How do you like that! Hurts, don't it! How do you like it when it's your butt that hurts! Ya big baby! Cry! Go ahead, cry! I'm not gonna stop! I'm gonna get you good! Take that! And that! And that!" Tommy was rocking violently, his legs scissoring widely with each spank, separating to display Gabriel's firm grip on his balls and the contrasting whiteness of the protected skin of his butt crack, with his red and brown butt hole peeping out now and then with some of his wilder kicks. Gabriel paused for a minute, catching his breath. "Hey, Beth," he yelled over Tommy's muffled screaming. "Come hold his legs – he's kicking too hard!" Beth walked over from where she'd been cheering with the screaming girls, and sat on the ground, circling Tommy's legs and pinning them. Gabriel, his breath regained, returned to paddling just the base of Tommy's butt, landing 5 consecutive spanks there as Tommy's cries increased in volume. His cousin's butt was a mass of little blisters now, dotting his whole bottom and almost solid in a line down his crack and in a circle low and in the center, where Gabriel was currently paddling. Most of the Girl Scouts were cheering, egging Gabriel on now. Chad puzzled over the blister pattern on his brother, realizing that the line of blisters down the boy's crack must be because his buns were forced together when the paddle struck, pinching the skin as they flattened. Fascinating, the things you learned from watching your brother get paddled! Gabriel's arm was so tired he could barely lift it, and his palm was aching from the shock of hitting his cousin's butt over and over. He rested the paddle on his cousin's butt, and, with the last of his strength, pulled the boy's ball sack away from his body with his other hand and ground the two orbs inside together as hard as he could. The effect on Tommy was electric – he arched his back fully, short his legs out, struggled with his bound arms, and screamed, loudly enough to be heard several houses away despite his underwear gag. As he finished squeezing and let go, Gabriel lifted the paddle and brought it down with all his force in the exact center of his cousin's butt. The wooden handle fractured where it joined the flat part, the latter piece bouncing off his cousin's butt and landing on the lawn, leaving Gabriel holding the handle, looking at it with astonishment. The entire audience became dead silent for a moment, so the only sound was Tommy's muffled wails. Gabriel looked up and looked seriously at the girls. "I'm done, I think," he said loudly. "I'm pooped." He looked at the ground mournfully. "And I broke my paddle." Mr. and Mrs. Winston broke into applause, quickly joined by the girls. "Nice job, boy," Mrs. Winston said. "As good a britches dusting as I've seen! A boy needs a paddle or two broken over his behind! Takes a little varmint down a peg or two!" Tommy was still wailing, not really fully aware, yet, that the paddling had stopped. Beth let go of Tommy's legs, which began jerking spasmodically in random directions as Tommy tried to come to grips with the searing pain in his posterior. "Rub his butt," she said loudly to Gabriel. "It'll increase the sting." Gabriel took his free right hand and began massaging Tommy's red butt cheeks, while still holding him steady with a grip on his genitals. Tommy's howling intensified as Gabriel's probing hands increased the muscle ache and the surface burn of Tommy's butt at the same time. Meanwhile, out of sight of the girls between his legs, Gabriel shifted his grip to Tommy's penis, stroking the soft flesh, chucking it under the head, and doing his best to stimulate it to hardness. He's got to stand up, soon, he thought to himself. And when he does, he's going to have a big boner for all the girls to see and make fun of! They'll think he likes having me whip his butt! Mr. and Mrs. Winston had arisen, meanwhile, and had folded their chairs, preparing to depart (mainly because they were out of alcohol). They paused by Chad, who was standing by the wall, on their way out. "Calf balls, that's what you need, boy," Mr. Winston said as he got close to Chad. "Or pig balls – whichever you can get." "Huh?" Chad said, confused. He'd been trying to decide which had been greater, his paddling by the family or Tommy's by Gabriel. He remembered his butt as looking pretty much the same as Tommy's when they'd finished, so maybe the paddling had hurt Tommy as much as his had hurt him. He hoped so. Tommy needed to suffer like he had, especially for how he'd treated little Jesse. "Calf balls, I said," Mr. Winston repeated. "Or pig balls. Just go out to a farm where they have cattle or pigs and ask if you can have some next time they castrate their bulls or boars. Don't you know anything about farming, boy?" He looked at his wife. "City kids," he said. He turned back to Chad. "Farmers cut the balls off of bulls and boars so that the meat that you get from them tastes better. You get hold of some nice big ones, and you roll them in eggs and cracker crumbs and deep fry them. Not such good eatin', but it'll put hair on your crotch and make you bigger in the boy department in no time, if you know what I mean!" He gave Chad an elaborate wink. "Got to please the girls," he said. He opened the side gate and turned back. "Actually, calf balls work better if you eat them raw. Just close your eyes and let them slide down, like eating raw lobster. But don't eat the pig balls that way. You can get trichinosis if you don't cook them." He and Mrs. Winston waved and left. Chad stared at the empty space where they'd disappeared his stomach suddenly roiling. They cut the balls off of boy pigs and calves? And some people ate them? He thought he might be sick for a minute. He realized he'd never noticed a pig's balls before, even though he'd been to petting zoos. Maybe they'd already been cut? He did remember, now that he thought about it, seeing a calf's small scrotum hanging between his legs, looking very much like a boy's, except covered completely with hair. At the time, though, he'd been much younger, and more interested in petting the animals than looking at their genitals. He shivered. They cut their balls off! Well, that was it – he'd never be a farmer. Gabriel was continuing to massage Tommy's sore butt. He'd already discovered that massaging over Tommy's butt hole got the best reaction from him, and so did massaging along his butt crack, so he'd been concentrating on those two areas. The girls were now laughing among themselves, sharing their own observations of Tommy's deportment during punishment and commenting on his anatomy. Gabriel marveled at how dry and hot his cousin's butt felt under his hand, the formerly smooth surface now bumpy and welted. Between Tommy's legs, he'd managed to coax him into a raging erection. He gave the hard penis a squeeze. "Get off me, you big meany!" he commanded Tommy, switching his grip back to his cousin's balls and yanking upward on them. "You're making my legs go to sleep!" Gasping, Tommy followed his scrotum upward, standing on wobbly legs, having trouble balancing with his hands tied behind him. His penis stood out in front of him like a fleshy pointer. Gabriel steadied him with his grip on the boy's 'nads and looked at Tommy's face, which he could see for the first time since the start of the paddling. He felt a wave of satisfaction. Tommy was still bawling, the edges of his underwear protruding from his full mouth, snot dribbling over his lips and down his chin, some trailing down his neck now. Runnels of tears ran down his cheeks, and his eyes were puffy and bleary, his face bright red. Bubbles of shot formed and broke on his nose as he continued to bawl in pain. Yep, he was pretty satisfied with himself – he'd really gotten the big meany good! He let go of Tommy's scrotum and stood up. "I gotta take a pee and get something to drink," he said loudly. "Paddling boys is hard work!" He strutted into the house, radiating pride and happiness. Once in the kitchen, though, he made a beeline for the hall bathroom, where he burst through the door, slammed it behind him, and yanked his pants and underpants down off his butt as fast as he could. His hard little penis sprang out immediately, the tip smacking his belly as it was released. He shut his eyes and seized it and began jacking himself furiously, replaying the glorious events of the last few minutes in his head. The boy's smooth butt stretched out under his gaze. The solid crack of the paddle each time it landed, and the jump and twitch of the muscles of the boy's butt as the pain soaked in. The feel of power as he'd ground the boy's balls together, knowing what that felt like for him. The boy across his lap had become all the boys who'd harmed him in the past -- the boy who'd raped his butt in his own bedroom, his older brother who'd put the sharp lopper blades around his tiny genitals, the boy in the foster home who'd made him lube up his dick by sucking it and then rammed it mercilessly up his butt, and Tommy himself, holding him down and taking his own pleasure. The power he'd had over his bigger and older cousin had hit him like an aphrodisiac, making him horny as hell. It only took him about ten seconds to cum, pleasure coursing through him, extinguishing his burning need. He stood on his toes for a moment, gasping as his penis jumped and pulsed in his hand, then sighed as it began drooping, immediately beginning to pee and enjoying the powerful relief overlying the satisfaction of orgasm. A sudden giggle at close range made his eyes snap open and his heart jump in fear. A figure stepped to his side from where she'd been standing behind him. Startled, he jumped, his stream choking off in mid-pee and causing a sudden internal burning sensation. Gabriel sputtered and started to reach for his pants and underpants to pull them up. Dot! It was Dot from outside! A girl was in the bathroom with him – a girl not his sister! She had to have been there the whole time! Cold dread washed over him. She'd seen him jerk off – she had to have. And now she'd tell everyone what she'd seen!