Tommy's Attitude Adjustment Chapter 24
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.
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Chapter 24:  Things Can Always Get Worse

Shirley stared at her cousin Jeremy's penis, rock hard and
throbbing in her hand, nudging upward with each beat of his
heart, as he cousin struggled to pee with two girls his own
age watching him.  Francine controlled her laughing and
quieted down, while Jeremy stared at the wall of the
bathroom and tensed various muscles in his lower abdomen. 
Nothing happened.  "So are you going to pee, or not?"
Francine asked again, growing impatient.  Jeremy tightened
his butt and concentrated so hard his brow furrowed.  Still,
nothing happened.  Suddenly, the three were startled by a
voice in the doorway.  "What's taking so long, girls?" Aunt
Matilda asked.  She took in the tableau, including the fact
that Shirley was holding Jeremy's penis, and frowned. 
Francine quickly came to Shirley's defense.

"She has to aim him," she said to Jeremy's mother.  "Or he'd
pee all over everything.  'Cause he's sticking up.  And he
can't do it because he has to keep his hands behind his
head."  She looked at Jeremy's mother with her best innocent
expression.  "Why do they stick up like that sometimes, Mrs.
Whitt?  Boys' thingies, I mean.  Usually they just hang down
– why to they get all hard sometimes?"

Taken aback by the question, Jeremy's mother groped for an
answer.  She should have known, she thought.  She didn't
know what had led her to think anything else was involved. 
These were just innocent little girls, after all.   They
didn't look at boy's penis and think sexual thoughts – to
them a penis was just a funny thing boys peed through.  Of
course that's all Shirley was doing – just keeping him from
peeing on the floor.  She realized she needed to answer, as
the girls were now looking at her expectantly.  "Boys and
men are funny creatures," she finally said.  "They're hard
to understand sometimes."  She felt a strong need to get
away from Francine's curious eyes.  "Stop dilly-dallying,
Jeremy, and finish up," she finally said.

"I'm trying," Jeremy protested.  "I really am.  But it's
hard to go when my...my...my thing is like that."

"I see," his mother said.  He was right, of course, she
realized.  She knew perfectly well that males sometimes had
trouble peeing through a hard on, even little ones.  She
certainly was familiar with the penis of Jeremy's father in
that condition.  His lovely, long, hard penis, so urgent and
thrusting, filling that aching need of hers.  He'd been gone
too long again.  Jeremy's father was currently overseas,
working on some sort of business deal for his company.  He'd
already been gone a month, and he might be gone another
before returning.  The frequent absences of his father was
one of the reasons she tended to indulge Jeremy.  "Maybe
this will help," she said, reaching over and turning on the
faucet full force.  Rushing water gushed into the sink,
making soothing noises.  Jeremy shut his eyes a minute, and
did things that made little rippling motions in his groin. 
Shirley felt it first, a gentle vibration on the underside
of the boy's penis accompanied by a sudden powerful stream
emerging from the tip of his penis and splashing in the
toilet.  He was peeing!  An actual boy with peeing in front
of her, as she held his boy thing in her hand!  She marveled
at the power of the stream, seemingly stronger than what she
could produce from her tween. The initial gush finally
ended, but Jeremy immediately contracted his hips several
more times, with each contraction resulting in him ejecting
an additional little squirt.  He finally relaxed with a
sigh.

"Give him a little shake, dear," Aunt Matilda said to
Shirley.  "You have to get the last drops off the tip." 
Shirley gave the boys hard penis a tentative little shake,
causing him to shivered slightly.  "That's quite enough,"
her aunt said with a note of disapproval in her voice. 
There's no need to hold him any more."

Jeremy, sighed again, this time in disappointment as the
girl's hand was removed from his penis.  Her touch felt so
good!  His little penis, released, sprang up until it was
pointing out slightly above horizontal again.  His mother
immediately took charge of him, guiding him back to the
living room as the girls followed.  Once there, she stood
him in front of the couch and sat down, signaling the girls
to sit as well.  Mrs. Weiss was already sitting, having
taken a chair to one side.  "Well, Jeremy?"  She asked,
arching an eyebrow.  "Are you ready to apologize to your
cousin now?"

Jeremy, blushing now all the way to his neck at having to
stand with his lower half naked in front of the girls and
Mrs. Weiss, especially with his mickie all hard, mumbled
something incomprehensible.

"I asked you a question, Jeremy," his mother said.  "Are you
ready to apologize, or do I take my hair brush to your
little fanny?"

"No Ma!"  Jeremy blurted.  He took a deep breath to steady
himself.  He hated the way that his little penis remained
hard, so that it was pointing right at the girls, with the
pee slit visible and everything!  He'd never be able to look
Francine in the face again!  She'd probably tell everybody
what his mickie looked like, and his butt, and his dookie
hole!  Both girls were staring fixedly at his crotch,
watching his little penis in fascination.  He needed to get
this over with.  "Sorry, Shirley," he mumbled.

"That's not good enough, young man," his mother said.  "Tell
her exactly what you're sorry for, and say it loud enough so
we all can hear you."

Jeremy, near to tears again, cleared his throat.  "I'm, I'm
sorry I was mean to you, Sh- Shirley.  And I'm sorry I was
bad in town."  He looked at his mother pleadingly.

"Very good, Jeremy," he mother said.  "Now apologize to me
for having to spank your bottom, and to Mrs. Weiss and
Francine for having to watch it."

This wasn't fair!  He hadn't wanted Mrs.Weiss to watch him
get spanked to start with, and he certainly hadn't wanted
Francine to see it!  He thought about the hair brush,
however, and realized none of that mattered.  "I'm sorry you
had to watch me get a spankin', Mrs. Weiss, and I'm sorry
you had to watch, too, Francine," He managed to say.  Well,
that was certainly true—he was very sorry that Francine had
seen him get his spanking, and even more sorry she was
smirking at him now.

"That's okay, Jeremy," Francine said, smirking.  "I'm sure
you learned your lesson.  As long as it makes you a better
boy in the future."

"Good, that's settled," his mother said.  "Now I think it
time for lunch.  Mrs. Weiss, would you like to join us?"

"I'm afraid I'll have to be running along," Mrs. Weiss said. 
"It was very kind of you to offer, though."  She rose and
started for the kitchen door.  She stopped before exiting. 
"Now try to be a little angel, Francine," she said, looking
at her daughter, expectantly.  "Or my hand will be doing a
little dance on your fanny, too."

"I'll be good, mother," Francine said, doing her best to
look angelic.

Mrs. Weiss exited.  "You can put your hands down now,
Jeremy," his mother said.  A relieved Jeremy quickly let his
hands fall.  He spied his pants and underpants, lying on the
floor.  He took a couple of steps and stooped pick them up,
not realizing until he heard the giggle that he was
positioned such that when he bent over his cousin was
looking right up spread butt.  Grabbing his clothing he
straightened up quickly, holding the bundle in front of his
crotch.  His mother got up and reached over to take clothing
from him.  "How thoughtful of you to pick up your mess," his
mother said.  "I'll just put these in your room for now,"
she added, starting down the hall.

Jeremy clapped his hands over his genitals to block
Shirley's open gaze at them.  "But I was going to put them
on!"  he protested.  

His mother arched an eyebrow at him.  "You don't need them
right now," she said.  "You need to let your bottom air out
for a little while – you've got a few blisters and the air
will help them heal."

"But I'm naked!"  Jeremy protested.  "You can't expect me to
eat lunch naked!"

His mother gave him a withering gaze.  "You can and you
shall," she said.  "You've gotten too big for your britches
lately, Jeremy, so I think that doing without them for a bit
will teach you a good lesson.  Besides, you've been naked
around other people before.  You swim naked with the other
boys at the swimming hole, don't you?" She knew from
personal experience the boys all swam naked.  Back when she
was an early teenager, she and a girlfriend had slipped
quietly up to the swimming hole during a hot summer day
where they could watch from the far bank behind jumble of
large rocks that lay opposite the beach-like curve of sand
where the boys left their clothing while they cooled off
from the heat of the day.  The two girls had watched,
mesmerized, for a long time as an assortment of nude boys
ranging from 6-year-olds who were there with their older
brothers to high school seniors cavorted in front of them,
unaware that they were being watched.  Like most girls their
age, they'd both been drawn into infant and toddler care by
their mothers already, so male anatomy wasn't a surprise to
them, but the sheer range of sizes and shapes of genitalia
had astonished Matilda at the time.  The little boys, of
course, all sported miniscule little scrotums that barely
showed and didn't differ much from each other, but even
their little penises displayed a wide range of shapes and
sizes, from dangling little fingers long enough to flop
around when they moved to barely visible, flat little
buttons that pointed straight out and barely projected at
all.  The range of appearances among the bigger boys was
even more impressive, with the big boys all sporting
dangling sausages of various widths and lengths, some short
and fat, some long and thin, and some coming to a rude,
fleshy point made of excess skin that covered the mushroom
bulge of their penis tips.  Her friend Martha had whispered
that those boys weren't "circumstanced," and still had their
foreskins.  The big boys had quite a range of sacks, too,
with some hanging low and pendulous, their balls big and
bulging, others pulled tightly to their bodies and their
balls smaller and outlined in wrinkled skin.  And all of
them sported the most outrageous shock of bushy hair above
their genitals, all the same color as the hair on their
heads.  Matilda had been especially struck by the appearance
of the Dooley brothers, whose flaming bushes of red pubic
hair stood out from their white midsections as if their
penises were ablaze.

Most interesting to Matilda, thoush had been the boys in the
ages between these extremes – the ones her age and just
above and below her age.  The 11 to 14-year-olds showed a
most amazing range of development.  Two of the boys in her
own class had especially caught her eye.  Stephen James, a
tallish, good-looking 12-year-old blond, sported an
impressive, dangling ball sack and a long, swaying penis
that seemed huge on his half-grown body, along with an
impressive bush of blond pubic air above his swaying
equipment. On the other hand, Floyd McCallister, just as
tall but much broader and heavier, had barely visible
genitals that wouldn't have looked out of place on the 9-
year-olds splashing around him.  This, along with his total
lack of hair, made him look much younger than his age
without his clothes on.  She'd almost burst out laughing
when Stephen had shouted at Floyd, "Hey, Dinky Dick – betcha
can't catch me!"   For years thereafter, every time she'd
see Floyd, it was all she could do to keep from bursting out
laughing as she contemplated his reaction should she
suddenly address him as "Dinky Dick McCallister."  

Matilda and her friend had watched the boys for more than an
hour, mesmerized by the panoply of muscular buttocks and
dangling big and little penises.  Although they had never
told anyone about their adventure and had never worked up
the courage to go back again, she still remembered the event
fondly, as the time she truly grasped just how much
variation there was in boys under their pants as well as
outside of them.  It was also about that time that an older
girl had explained to an aghast Matilda that boys put their
penises "down there," in girls, and that girls actually
enjoyed the experience.  

Well, she certainly had, she thought.  Little Jeremy had
been the unexpected by ultimately happy result of her
frenzied coupling with his father in an old barn on the edge
of town after a hayride in her senior year, and a hurried
wedding had followed.  

Remembering that happy time and suddenly missing her husband
dreadfully, Jeremy's mother let her eyes travel to her son's
crotch, wondering how he compared to his father and those
boys of her memory.  She hadn't really seen his genitals
since he'd stopped bed-wetting, and even back when she had
she'd always paid more attention to getting them clean than
to their actual appearance.  She found her view blocked,
though, because  he was clutching his pubic triangle with
both hands, instinctively protecting his genitals from sight
despite the fact that both girls had just been in the
bathroom with him, watching him pee.  It was funny how
modest these little boys were when their equipment was small
and harmless, and how boisterous they got in later
adolescence and adulthood, when they felt big and powerful. 
It wouldn't do to let him get too comfortable with
exhibiting himself to girls too soon.  She decided a little
humiliation was in order.   "Don't touch yourself there,
Jeremy!"  she said.  "Especially not in front of the girls. 
That sort of crude male behavior is not the sort of a thing
a well-brought-up young lady wants to see."  Flushing even
more deeply, Jeremy let his hands fall to his sides, his
little, still hard penis snapping to attention as he moved
his hands.  She let her gaze flow over it a moment,
following the straight shaft with her eyes from where it
mushroomed into a perfect little helmet back to where it
emerged like a little post from his body, his perfect little
miniature scrotum underneath.  It was actually quite an
attractive little package as boy genitals went, with no
visible veins to mar the surface, no odd twists or
asymmetries, or excessive curvature.  The pee slit didn't
gape at the tip, and the head was perfectly proportioned. 
The whole package was a perfect miniature of his father's,
she realized, and looking at it made her long for his
return. 

"We'd best have lunch," she said, tearing her eyes away.  It
wouldn't do to dwell on her absent husband too much – he
wouldn't be back for some time, and she'd just have to cope. 

Jeremy ate lunch standing by the table, keeping his belly
pressed against the side to at maintain at least some
covering for his genitals.  He'd been naked from the waist
down for more than an hour, now, yet he still couldn't get
used to it.  Sure, he swam at the swimming hole naked, but
only other boys were there, and everyone was naked. 
Besides, the trees hung over the water and made it like a
dark little room in there, so it was no more open feeling
than being naked in the bathroom or one's bedroom.  It was
different being naked in the kitchen, with sun streaming in
the open windows and the sounds of children playing drifting
by, and with everyone else in the room fully clothed.  Not
to mention the fact that all the other people in the room
were girls, with their mysteriously different in intriguing
bodies.

His mother, sensing his discomfiture, made a point of
sending him from the table repeatedly on various errands –
to get the mustard from the refrigerator for their
sandwiches, then back again to get the mayonnaise, then to
get more juice from the refrigerator, and so on.  Each time,
both girls turned to watch him as he left the shelter of the
table, his spanked butt on display first, then his now
dangling little penis.  His mother found herself enjoying
his discomfort.  Little boys were too modest when she was
young, and they're still too modest, she thought to herself. 
Everyone sees their little packages over and over again when
they're babies and toddlers, then suddenly they got all
ashamed and went around hiding themselves like they looked
any different than they did when they were toddlers standing
proudly at the toilet showing their mothers and sisters how
they could make pee-pee like big boys.  Her naked son was
actually quite pleasant to look at.  She'd already noticed
that his little penis, a perfect miniature of his father's,
swayed so nicely in rhythm with his movements as he walked,
and his small sack was so hairless and innocuous seeming. 
She hadn't liked his genitals so well when he'd been hard
earlier – it made him look too much like a man.  She now
decided he had a cute little butt, too – not the baby-fat,
little boy butt he'd had as a toddler, but a narrow,
muscular butt with a deep butt cleft that looked very
boyish.  She wondered if he masturbated when he was alone in
his bedroom or in the bathroom, and if he had ever had an
orgasm.

Jeremy (who in fact did idly touch his penis now and then in
bed but never for long enough to orgarm because he always
stopped when the feelings started getting overwhelmingly
intense) was, meanwhile, methodically eating his lunch and
wishing his butt didn't still sting so much.  He didn't like
bare bottomed spankin's at all, that was certain, whether
they were administered in front of some stupid old girls or
not.  It had hurt a lot, and the pain had just keep getting
worse and worse as the interminable smacking of his bare
butt had gone on.  But having been spanked in front of two
girls his age had added deep humiliation to his pain. 
They'd looked at him naked, all over!  And listened to him
beg and cry as he got spanked!  They'd seen all his private
places – all of them!  Francine would probably tell the
story all over town, and probably describe his privates to
everyone!  He found he couldn't even meet their eyes at the
dinner table, forcing him to concentrate on his plate. 
Every time he had to leave the table to fetch this or that
thing at his mother's bidding, he could feel 3 pairs of eyes
on him, first on his tight little butt, still blushing pink
and sporting a few scattered blisters, and then on his
dangling genitals, feeling so vulnerable hanging unprotected
and uncovered in front of him.  

It wasn't just that they'd looked at him and seen him get
spanked, either – no, it wasn't just that.  Both girls had
handled him.  They'd felt his butt with their hands, spread
it to look in his crack, and then run their fingers over his
mickie – stroking it and rubbing it until it had gotten
hard, then continued stroking it until he'd gotten that
overwhelming shivery feeling he got sometimes when he
handled it himself.  Only this had been different – the
feeling of someone else's hand, not knowing where the
fingers were going to be next, somehow that made it more
shivery, more unbearable, and more – more – more what?  More
good, Jeremy realized suddenly.  Handling his own mickie was
soothing – the kind of thing that felt good when you
couldn't go to sleep.  But he always stopped when his
feelings started getting too intense.  This Shirley girl,
though, hadn't stopped then – she'd continued touching along
the ridge of the tip of his mickie, wringing the most
pleasant, shivery feelings out of it – feelings that somehow
traveled up the shaft and inside of him, making him want to
squeeze his butt and the muscles inside him like he did when
trying to force out the last squirts of pee.  Only better
than that.  Lots better.

The sudden coldness as the tip of his mickie rose high
enough to brush the underside of the metal table made Jeremy
realize that thinking about the girl's hand stroking him had
made him all stiff again, and awakened yearning feelings
inside of him.  He was thankful his crotch was lower than
table height, so that his erection was out of view.  Now as
long as they didn't send him for anything for a few
minutes...

"I believe we need that other bottle of milk from the
icebox," his mother said just then.  "Would you get it,
Jeremy, dear?"

"But Ma," Jeremy said in protest.  "I've gotten everything
else.  Can't one of them get it?"

"Jeremy Whitt!" his mother exclaimed.  "These girls are your
guests.  We don't expect our guests to serve us in our own
house!  Now you get your little spanked fanny over to the
icebox and get the milk this instant!"

Jeremy looked at each of the girls, hoping they were looking
some other direction, but both had turned their attention to
his midsection, waiting to glimpse his privates again as he
left the table.   Jeremy pivoted as quickly as possible
while still standing next to the table, then walked away so
that the girls could really only view his butt, his mickie
being short enough that they couldn't see it, even erect,
from the other side of the table where they were sitting
side by side.  He opened the icebox and got the milk, trying
to think of how to hide his erection on the return trip.  He
finally lowered the bottle so that it blocked his crotch,
shutting the icebox door and gripping the bottle with both
hands as he walked back, holding it against his front so his
genitals were hidden behind it, his penis pressed upward
against his belly by the cold bottle.  Maybe the cold would
make it go down.

As he neared the table, his mother looked up.  "Oh, Jeremy,
don't hold it against yourself there," she chided.  "You
know what that part of you does!"

Looking guilty, Jeremy moved the bottle a bit away from his
body, resulting only in his mickie sliding down the outside
so that it pointed outward, with the tip still touching the
bottle.  His mother noted the contact as he neared and
slipped the bottle up onto the table as he tried to hide his
privates underneath again.  His penis, pointing slightly
upward, eluded his movement, so that as he tried to trap it
under the table it caught on the front and his movement made
the tip stick up next to his plate instead briefly, before
he was able to swipe it with his hand and shove it down and
force it under the table.  Francine burst out laughing at
his antics, and Shirley grinned as well.

"I don't recall inviting that to the table," his mother said
archly.  "And I don't appreciate you rubbing it all over the
milk bottle, young man.  Perhaps you'd best go to the corner
for the rest of the meal."

"But I was just – I didn't want the girls to see my – I
didn't mean to," Jeremy sputtered.

"Did I ask for backtalk?" his mother said.  "I said, get
into the corner!  And don't forget where your hands belong!"

Sagging, Jeremy walked on leaden legs to the corner of the
kitchen, his little penis wagging in front of him like the
stubby appendage of a tail-cropped dog.  He stared at the
flowers on the wallpaper, wondering if he was in for more
trouble.  His ma wouldn't paddle him would she?  Not for
something like this?   His little mickie began deflating
immediately as the memory of the searing sting of his
earlier spanking flooded back.

"Time for pie, I think," Aunt Matilda said, addressing the
two girls.

"What about Jeremy?" Francine said immediately.

"I don't believe Jeremy wants any pie," his mother said. 
"Or he'd have treated the milk with less disregard for our
feelings."

"Boys can be so careless," Francine piped up.  "My brother's
always coming home smelling like fish or manure or something
yucky like that.  He doesn't even seem to care!"

"Jeremy won't even take a bath on his own," his mother
noted.  "I have to threaten him to get him to go in and get
in the tub, and even then I'm not sure he washes thoroughly. 
I suppose I should still supervise him, but you know how
modest these little boys get.  Besides, I suppose just
sitting in the soapy water for half an hour or so playing
probably gets his parts clean enough."

"I bet it doesn't," Francine said, a glimmer of mischief in
her eye.  "I bet he doesn't wash his private parts at all,
and I bet they don't get clean."  She glanced at Shirley
meaningfully, then turned her big eyes on Mrs. Whitt. 
"Especially his bottom, where the you-know-what comes out! 
Why, I'll bet you that if we looked at him close right now,
Jeremy would have you know what on his bottom.  I'll bet you
anything he does!"

"Oh, surely not," his mother said indulgently.  "No one
wants to be dirty, not even little boys.  He does know how
to use toilet paper, Francine."

"I'll bet you 5 dollars he's down dirty there,"  Francine
said.

"Let's not be ridiculous," Mrs. Whitt said.  "You don't have
5 dollars, anyway.  That's practically a whole week's wages! 
But it might be fun to bet.  How about if I win, you girls
do the dishes, and if you win, I do the dishes and then we
all go to the park."

Francine stuck out a hand.  "Let's shake on it," she said. 
The two solemnly shook hands.  Jeremy, who'd been listening
with burning ears to this conversation, suspected he knew
what was coming next.  He also knew that Francine, with her
prior knowledge, had just scammed his mother, but he didn't
dare say anything.

"Oh Jeremy," his mother said.  "Could you come here and bend
over my lap, please.  Francine and I have a friendly bet."

Slowly, little penis drooping, Jeremy walked from the corner
with his hands still obediently behind his head, circling
around Francine and approaching his mother, who'd pushed her
chair out from the table.  Awkwardly, because it was tough
to bend over with his hands behind his head, Jeremy got into
the humiliating butt up position over his mother's lap,
knowing in advance that he was going to flunk this test.

The two girls rose and stood on either side of his mother,
watching avidly as she carefully gripped his still sore butt
cheeks and spread them widely apart.  All three females
locked their eyes on his anal orifice and the surrounding
area.  

There was something utterly humiliating and horribly
disconcerting about the feel of lying across someone's lap
and having your buns pulled apart and your butt crack spread
open until your butt hole was in plain view.  Jeremy felt
like he was being violated, like something that should be
his secret was being trotted out for all to view.  It was
worse than having people see your mickie.  After all, other
boys saw your mickie all the time – at the long trough that
served as a urinal in the boys' bathroom at school, for
example, where several boys would stand side by side peeing
and stealing surreptitious glances at the mickies of the
boys next to them, and at the swimming hole, where everyone
saw your stuff when you went into and out of the water or
when you swung out on the rope into the deep spot.  But no
one ever saw your butt hole, not really.  Oh, you got a
glimpse of other boys' holes now and then, when they'd bend
over to pull on their underwear, or when they bent over
briefly when clowning around.  It was likely that other boys
had glimpsed his in just that way, too.  And his mother must
have looked at it over and over when he was a baby and a
toddler and needed cleaning up.  But he didn't remember
those times.  In fact, no one in his memory had ever looked
at his body like this, prying his butt apart and sticking
their faces just inches from his most private place!

"My goodness," Jeremy's mother exclaimed after a moment's
study.  "I guess you know boys better than me, Francine.  He
is a dirty little boy, isn't he?"  She reflected a minute.  
"It's a good thing we checked him girls!  Otherwise he might
have sat on our furniture in this state!"  She spread his
butt wider, studying his anus more closely.  Jeremy's butt
crack protested where he joined together in the middle of
his buns.  Jeremy stared resolutely at the floor, wondering
if it was possible to die of embarrassment.  "So why is your
bottom dirty like this?" his mother finally said.  "Didn't I
send you to take a bath last night?  You did take a bath,
didn't you?"

Jeremy nodded his head, still looking at the floor.  "Yeah,"
he said in a quiet voice.  "But I had to go number 2 this
morning."

Shirley looked puzzled.  "But you used toilet paper to wipe
yourself afterward, didn't you?  Boys go number 2 just like
girls do, don't they?  Don't boys use toilet paper?"

"They're supposed to," Francine piped up, sounding like the
voice of authority.  "But my brother says a lot of them
don't – they don't like taking the time, and they don't mind
being a little dirty."

"But don't they get their panties dirty then?" Shirley
asked.

"They don't care if they're dirty," Francine answered.  "My
ma says it's because they don't have to wash them.  But my
brother says that's women's work."

"I'd hate to think Jeremy is as dirty and inconsiderate as
that," his mother said.  "I'd like to think that he at least
has the decency to wipe himself!  I don't know what I'd do
if I found out he was too lazy to extend to me at least the
courtesy of trying to keep his underpants clean."  

Under her hands, Jeremy stiffened, and color drained from
his face at her not so veiled threat.  All three females in
the room saw his reaction.  His mother's face colored with
anger, and Francine pounced.  "Look how guilty he looks! 
That's why his bottom is dirty.  He didn't wipe himself at
all this morning, I bet!  He probably didn't want to take
the time, or didn't care if it makes work for you.  Boys are
pigs."

Jeremy's heart began racing.  His mother knew!  They all
knew!  Without warning he was yanked roughly to his feet and
forced to stand between his mother's spread legs with her
face inches from hers.  His laced her fingers into his hair
and tilted his face up to hers.  Jeremy winced as the roots
of his heart protested.

Jeremy's mother's face blazed at him, her eyes unblinking. 
"You'd better not lie to me, young man, or the spanking I
gave you this morning is going to seem like a walk in the
park.  Did you go number 2 and not wipe yourself today?  Do
you not even care for how much work you make for me?"

"No..." Jeremy said hesitantly, not meeting her eyes.  

"Don't you dare lie to me, young man!" his mother said,
examining his face closely.  Jeremy's little penis tried to
crawl into his body, and his flushed all the way down to his
chest.  "You think I can't tell when you're lying?"

"I wiped, really I did!" Jeremy said, still not looking at
her.

His mother gave his hair a yank, forcing his gaze up.  "Look
at me!" she commanded.  Jeremy reluctantly met her gaze, but
immediately shifted his eyes away again.  It was like she
was looking into his soul and could see everything,
especially the fact that he was lying now.  He rarely wiped
himself – doing it only when a dookie felt particularly
messy and he could feel stuff on him.  This morning he's
just gotten up and pulled his pants up, sure his dump had
left no traces on him.  Now he deeply regretted not taking
the time to clean up.  Somehow she could tell – how could
she tell?  He tried to persuade her more fervently.

"Really, I wiped!  I did!  I did it three times!  And I
looked at the paper to make sure there was nothing on it!" 
He tried to sound convincing, but it was like she saw right
through him.

"No you didn't," his mother said, still holding him by the
hair.  "You're going to have to be punished for lying.  But
I'll give you one more chance admit your lies and tell the
truth, or it will go much worse on you.  Now answer me – did
you go number two this morning and not wipe yourself?"

Fear shot through Jeremy like electricity – numbing,
paralyzing fear.  His voice rose an octave.  "No, ma! 
Really!  I really wiped my bu—myself!  I did!"

His mother looked searchingly at him.  "I'm so disappointed
in you, young man," she said, shaking her head.  Not wiping
is bad enough – it's irresponsible and uncivilized and it
shows you don't care about how dirty you make your
underpants and how much work that makes for me, scrubbing
your dirt out of them on a washboard.  I'd have given you
another spanking like the one you got this morning for that
alone.  But lying to me about it – for that your punishment
has to be bigger and more humiliating, I'm afraid."

"No, Ma!" Jeremy begged.  "Please!  Okay, I did a dookie
this morning and didn't wipe!  I'm sorry!  I won't do it
again!" The two girls, watching from beside Jeremy's mother,
both noted at the same time that his little penis had shrunk
in fear until it was just a little circle centered on his
groin, pointed straight out now and barely projecting a
quarter of an inch from his body.  His little sack was
pulled up against his body as well, an irregular corrugated
patch of browner skin, now clearly visible without his
dangling little finger to hide it.

His mother drilled into him with her eyes.  "Well, I'm glad
you admitted it," she said.  "But your punishment stands." 
She released his hair and seized him by both arms.  "For
failing to wipe yourself, Jeremy, I was going to give a
simple spanking like you got this morning, maybe 15 good
whacks on your bare fanny.  But because you lied, I'm going
to make it a paddling instead.  On the bare.  You're going
to end up blistered, I'm afraid."

Panic suffused Jeremy's face.  Paddle him?  Blister his
butt? "Noooooooo!" he squealed, trying to twist away from
her grip.  Without warning, his bladder contracted
violently, forcing open his sphincter.  A jet of liquid shot
straight out his little circle of a penis, spattering all
over his mother's apron.  Fortunately his bladder was almost
empty, so the total amount of his involuntary wetting was
small, but the suddenness of the action shocked the two
girls as well as his mother.  His mother jumped backward,
rising as she did, still holding him but knocking over the
chair.  The two girls scattered to either side, as if he'd
been squirting liquid poison instead of just pee.  And
Jeremy's mother's face became beet red, redder, even, than
Jeremy's butt had been just after his earlier spanking.  

"How dare you!" his mother roared, shaking his with each
word.  "How dare you pee on me, you disgusting, dirty,
uncivilized little brat?"  Releasing one arm, she reached
down and pinched the tip of his penis between thumb and
forefinger, giving the barely projecting damp little organ a
vicious yank that burned all the way into Jeremy's insides.

"Owwwwwww!" Jeremy wailed, dissolving into incoherent tears. 
"I, I, I didn't mean toooooooo!" he wailed.  "It just came
out!  I'm sorrrrrrry!"

"Sorry don't feed the bulldog, mister," his mother snapped. 
"I will not have you embarrassing me in front of company! 
You want to humiliate me, I'll humiliate you right back. 
You're going to get paddled, all right, but I'm doubling
your paddling to 30 hard ones!  She gave Jeremy's penis a
second vicious yank and let go of it, looping a hand around
his middle and lifting him off the ground.  "And to make
sure you're humiliated as much as you've humiliated me, I'm
doing it on the front porch!"


"Noooooooo!" Jeremy wailed, kicking and flailing to no
avail.  "Not outside!  Don't paddle me outside, Maaaaaa! 
Pleeeeease!"

Jeremy's mother turned toward the door, easily lugging her
struggling, wailing son.  Come on, girls," she said, heading
out the kitchen door to the porch.  "Shirley, run get the
paddle for your cousin's naughty behind."

Shirley raced into the living room and snatched up the
wooden hairbrush, racing out through the kitchen and almost
tripping over the overturned chair on her way.  Her aunt was
sitting on the front step when she got outside, calmly
arranging a struggling Jeremy across her lap.  She'd easily
pinned his hands behind his back, and Francine was standing
between his out-stretched legs fighting to hold them still
as Jeremy tried to escape.  Three girls and a boy who'd been
playing on the lawn diagonally across the street were
staring at the commotion with undisguised glee.

"Hey, Jeremy's got no pants on!  Or underpants, neither! 
one girl was shouting at the others as Shirley emerged. 
"Look like his ma's gonna whop him!"

"Hand me that, dear," Shirley's aunt said over the commotion
Jeremy was making, reaching for the hair brush.  She took it
and waved toward Jeremy's legs.  "Help Francine out, dear,"
she said loudly.  "Each of you take a leg."

Shirley managed to take Jeremy's right leg from Francine
and, with difficulty, curtail his kicking to some degree. 
She and Francine stood side by side, Jeremy's legs separated
between them so his sack and his hole were clearly visible
to both of them.  His mother raised the paddle over Jeremy's
wildly contorting bottom.  "This is going to hurt a lot, I'm
afraid, Jeremy," she said grimly.  "Remember, you're getting
thirty hard ones!" 

As Jeremy shrieked "NOOOOOOOOOO!" his mother brought the
paddle down on her son's wildly wiggling but unprotected
little butt.

From Jeremy's squalling the moment the brush struck his butt
for the first time with a loud crack, Shirley was quite
certain his mother hadn't exaggerated when she said she was
giving him hard ones.  It was all the two of them could do
to hold on to his legs as Jeremy kicked, squealed, and
fought following the first spank.  Each succeeding spank
made his squeals grow in volume and added another dark
splotch of red to his bottom.  His mother took her time,
waiting a good 5 seconds between each spank, so it took her
more than two minutes to administer the 30 solid whacks
she'd promised him for his  lack of respect for her.  By
then, the flailing, thrashing Jeremy had screamed himself
hoarse, and his bottom was breaking out into little red
blisters centered on both buns and completely lining his
butt crack.  His face was throwing off little globs of snot
and saliva as he twisted his head this way and that, trying
to escape the searing pain the paddle had raised on his
butt.  

The kids from across the street had grown braver during
Jeremy's punishment, and were now standing only about 6 feet
away, watching Jeremy receive his paddling with undisguised
amusement and interest.  "I'm done, you can let go of him
now," Jeremy's mother said to the girls, loudly enough to be
heard over Jeremy's wailing.  The released his legs and
stepped back, and his mother released his arms at the same
time.  Jeremy settled on wobbly legs and immediately began
dancing, while the kids from across the street stared in
bug-eyed amazement at the sight of Jeremy Whitt standing 4
feet from them with his genitals on display.  Jeremy
immediately reached behind him to cup his butt with both
hands, and began leaping and hopping about the lawn, dancing
from one foot to the other and bawling like a 2-year-old,
his dangling, completely flaccid little penis flopping
wildly as he cavorted around.  Snot bubbles bloomed from his
nose as he danced and squealed, oblivious to the watching
audience of kids, the spectacle he was making of himself,
his total nudity from the waist down, or anything except the
incredible burning, searing pain of his bottom.  How could
his butt hurt this much!  The spanking had been bad, but
this was about 100 years of pure torture.

Jeremy's dancing and oblivion continued for several minutes,
while the girls and the one boy from across the street
giggled at his antics.  Meanwhile, his mother got up and
went back into the house.

Gradually Jeremy's senses returned to him and his vision
cleared.  When he finally was aware of something beside his
burning butt, he realized he was on the front lawn, facing
the porch.  He'd just been paddled.  Bare butt!  And
outside, where anyone could see!  He hoped no one had seen.
His bleary eyes immediately fell on his cousin Shirley,
looking at him with something like pity on her face.  And
then Francine, from school, standing next to her, smirking
and looking at his midsection.  He looked down.  His mickie! 
She was staring at it.  He quickly let go of his throbbing,
burning bottom and clapped both hands over his genitals.  He
had to get inside before anyone else saw him.  A voice
behind him made his blood run cold.

"Nice butt, Whitt!" one of the girls from across the street
said from very close by.  Horrified, Jeremy looked over his
shoulder.  There were 3 girls watching him – apparently had
been watching him throughout his whole performance.  And
Jason was standing there watching, too – Jason, who made fun
of him enough already!  They'd seen his bare butt!  And his
mickie!  Worse, yet, they'd seen him get paddled by his ma,
and watched him dance around like a little boy afterward! 
They were looking at him now! Sobbing, Jeremy fled into the
house, clutching his genitals awkwardly until his little
blistered butt disappeared through the door.

The three girls and the boy on the sidewalk walked over to
Shirley and Francine.  "Wow, that was some show!" one of the
girls said.  "You could see everything!"

"Every little thing,"  the girl next to her corrected. 
"What'd he do, anyway?"

"Lots of stuff," Francine said.  "He was rude to Shirley,
and he didn't wipe his butt, and he peed on his mom.  Stuff
like that."

"He didn't wipe his butt?" the third girl said.  "Gross! 
But how did she know?"

"His mom checked it.  It was hilarious," Francine said,
keeping her voice low enough so it couldn't be heard inside. 
"She spread his cheeks apart right in front of us so his
hole showed and everything.  And it had poop on it.  The she
yelled at him for it, and it scared him so much he peed on
her!"

"I can't believe it," the boy said, grinning.  "Whitt
getting his butt beat right on his front porch!  And that
dance he did afterward, with his mickie bouncing all over
the place right in front of everyone!"

"It wasn't any big deal," one of the girls said in a
superior tone.  "It barely stuck out.  It was so short it
couldn't even bounce much.  I've seen bigger boy stuff on
babies."

"Yeah, I know," the boy said.  "Isn't it great!"

Shirley wasn't sure it was great at all. She was starting to
feel sorry for her cousin.  It was one thing to get to see
his parts and watch him get a spanking in private, but it
was another for the whole world to see him.  And the
blistering his bottom had just received must have hurt
something awful, and probably would continue to hurt for
days.  He might be a little bit rude, but she didn't think
he deserved to suffer like that.  She left Francine
chattering excitedly with the other children about Jeremy's
body and his ordeal and went in the house looking for him.

She found him standing, still crying, in the corner once
again, his blotchy, blistered butt on display and his hands
behind his head.  Her aunt was talking on the phone,
ignoring Jeremy.  She edged up behind him and put a
consoling hand on his back, making him jump in surprise. 
"Leave me alone," he sobbed.

Shirley patted his back awkwardly.  "I'm sorry you got
paddled," she said.  

"No you're not," Jeremy said, still half-blubbering.  He
sniffled.  "You liked watching it – you all did.  You like
seeing me naked and watching me get a whoppin'."

"No I don't," Shirley said, trying to impress him with her
sincerity.   "I mean, I don't like seeing you get a
whoppin'."  The naked part, on the other hand, she'd enjoyed
immensely and was still enjoying standing there.  Jeremy did
have quite a cute little bottom she realized, even with
blisters all over it.  She just wanted to reach over and run
her fingers over it, but of course she didn't because she
knew what his reaction would be.  After all, the boy had
just gotten paddled on it – it looked like it was hot enough
to roast wienies on!  with it as sore as it looked.  And the
way his little pee-pee had gotten all hard and jumpy in her
hand was something she yearned to feel again.  But she
wisely didn't mention either of these two things.

"I can't believe I got paddled on the front porch," Jeremy
said after a minute or so of silence.  His crying had almost
stopped now.  "Did Jason and his sisters see the whole
thing?" he asked, distress in his voice.  "Or did they just
come at the end?"

"They saw the whole thing," Shirley said.  "There were there
even before Aunt Matilda started paddling you, and they came
over to watch."

"Great," Jeremy said.  "Just peachy-keen!  I might as well
run around naked from now on – everyone's seen everything."

"I don't think they saw your doo-doo place, though," Shirley
said.  "That's something."

Shirley's aunt finished her phone conversation at that point
and hung up the phone.  Spying Shirley talking to Jeremy,
she spoke up.  "I hope you learned your lesson this time,
young man!  I will not tolerate your complete disregard for
common decency!  Dirtying your pants and wetting on people! 
I thought you were finally over that back when I took you
out of diapers."

"Maybe he needs to go back into them," Francine said, coming
into the living room from outside.  "I mean, if he's not
trained, maybe he needs a reminder."

"That's not a bad idea," said Jeremy's mother, looking
thoughtful.  "No, not a bad idea at all.  She strode to the
hall linen closet, poking around briefly inside.  "Aha," she
said in triumph.  It's a good thing I kept these around,
just in case!"  She turned, holding up a stack of neatly
folded white cloth.

"You, young man, are going back in diapers!"