Tommy's Attitude Adjustment Chapter 26
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 26:  The Innocent Voices of Children

And everything was exactly what Francine told them. 
"Anyway, as I was saying, Jeremy had just gotten spanked
this morning, so he was bare…"

"He was bare?" Bobby interrupted.  "You saw him get spanked
bare?"  His position over Jeremy jumped suddenly about 3
notches.  "I mean, bare, bare?  You saw his butt and
everything?"

"Never mind his butt," Maxine said.  "It's his everything I
want to hear about.  Did you see it?"  Jeremy flushed,
hating that there were talking about his genitals, and
hating that they were talking about them like he wasn't even
there, like he didn't matter.  He studied his feet,
wondering if you could die of humiliation.  This couldn't
get any worse!

But then it did, of course, because Francine, not to be
interrupted for long when she had a good story, went on. 
"Of course we saw everything," she said.  "Right up his
crack when he was getting spanked, and all the rest of it
afterward, when he danced around rubbing his bottom and
howling."

"Wow!" Ruth said.  "You mean you got to see his…"

"We saw his tallywhacker and his bag and everything,"
Francine said.  Jeremy could feel his greasy penis shrinking
in his pants.  This was so humiliating!  "But it was no big
deal," she added dismissively.  "It didn't look any
different than the tallywhackers on baby boys.  It was only
about this long," she said, holding her fingers about an
inch apart.  Of course, it got bigger when it got all hard,
later."

":He got a woody in front of you?" Ruth said, almost panting
with excitement.  "It got hard and stuck up?"

"Well, as up as it could," Francine said.  "I told you it
wasn't very big."  Jeremy tried to melt into the ground
again.  It didn't work.  But all this talk of his
tallywhacker made him aware of a growing internal sensation,
one that raised all sorts of unpleasant possibilities.

"Wait, it gets better," Francine said.  "So he's standing
around with his tallywhacker sticking out, and his mother
starts talking about how he doesn't keep his underwear
clean, so I bet her that his bottom was dirty right then. 
So she checked him!"

"No!" Maxine and Ruth said together.

"Yeah, really!" Francine said.  Shirley nodded her head
seriously.  "She spread his butt apart right there and
checked him!"

"No!"  Ruth said.  Maxine's eyes glittered.  "You mean, she
spread it clear apart?  And you were watching?  You saw his
hole?"

"Everything!" an enthusiastic Shirley burst out.  "We saw
everything!  Even his doo-doo place!"

"No kidding," Maxine said, looking at Jeremy for a reaction. 
Jeremy's face was glowing red.  "So was he dirty?"

"Yeah!" Shirley said.  "Not real dirty, but dirty."

"Yeah, and then his ma said he shouldn't be dirty like that
because it made his underwear dirty and she had to clean it,
and I said he probably didn't even bother wiping himself,
and she asked him and he tried to lie, but she saw he was
lying and got mad because she has to clean his undies and he
doesn't even wipe!" Francine said.

"So she got so mad she said she was going to paddle him,"
Shirley chimed in.  And he was standing up by then, and he
got scared, and I guess he had to go, so he—he--"

"He pisddled all over her, that's what he did," Francine
finished, keeping her voice low enough Mrs. Whitt wouldn't
hear her.  "And then she was so mad she decided he needed a
paddling, and that she was going to do it in front of
everyone, so she carried him out to the porch step and
really blistered his bottom with the paddle!  And the kids
across the street watched!"

"There were two girls and a boy," Shirley said.

"He got paddled naked in front of the neighbors?" Ruth said. 
"Gosh, Maxine, why aren't we ever where the good stuff is
happening?  It's like when Freddy Sorenson got pantsed in
front of school, and we were already on our way home and
missed it!  And everyone says his peter was sticking out and
everything!"

"Jeremy's was, too," Francine said, rubbing it in. 
"Especially when he danced around naked afterward.  His
little tallywhacker was bouncing everywhere, and he didn't
even notice the other kids watching until he stopped crying
so much."

"You cried, Jeremy?" Bobby Raphael said with interest. 
"Really?  You cried?  In front of everyone?  You mean like a
big baby?'  

"It hurt!" Jeremy protested, his manliness stung to the
core.  "You cried when you got paddled in school, remember?"

"Shut up, you two," Maxine ordered.  "All boys are big
babies, anyway."  She turned back to Francine.  "So his ma
put him in a diaper because he pissed on her?"

"Actually, Francine and I did it," Shirley said.  "She put
the Vaseline on his bottom, and I put it on his—his—"  she
stopped again, unable to say the words.

"His tallywhacker," Francine put in.  "So he wouldn't get
diaper rash.  And I pinned him up, and here we are."  

Jeremy's face burned from shame.  He needed to get away, but
where would he go?  Straight down wasn't an option.  Maxine
and Ruth were smirking at him, while Bobby continued to look
at him with those expressionless eyes. 

"So, what?  How long does he have to wear them?" Ruth asked.

"Until tomorrow morning," Shirley volunteered from the swing
next Francine.

"You mean he has to piss and shit in a diaper until then? 
Maxine said, grinning more broadly.  Now isn't that just the
bee's knees!  And he gets changed if he does?"  She edged
around Jeremy eyeing him from the backside.  "Actually, they
look kinda cute on you!"  She said.  "Makes you look more
like a baby."

"I'm not a baby," Jeremy snapped.

"Let's see, you pissed on your mother, got spanked naked in
front of the neighbors, and now you're wearing a diaper. 
Sounds like a baby to me!"  Ruth said.

"I bet he's wet himself already," Bobby said.  "Or maybe
even shit himself.  I think I can smell it from here," he
added.  "What about it, baby Jeremy?  Did you wet your
diaper?  Did you make a big doo-doo?  Does the little baby
need a change?" his eyes glimmered with malice.

"Maybe we better check him to be sure," Maxine said.  "Hold
still, Jeremy, and let me check your diaper."  She sidled up
to him, reaching towards the top of his diaper."  Jeremy
backed away, but immediately bumped into Ruth, who'd shifted
around behind him.  Maxine tried to worm her hand into the
top of his diaper.  

Jeremy tried to shove her away.  "Leave me alone!" he
hollered.  "Get your stupid hand out of there!"  

Meanwhile, Ruth was poking his diaper from behind, pushing
the cloth into his crack and trying to feel around his anal
area for anything that wasn't boy or diaper.  Jeremy tried
to bat her hand away, too.  "Come on, cut it out!" he
complained, more loudly.  Maxine used his distraction to
start her hand back into the top of the front of his diaper. 
The noise of the struggle caught his mother's attention. 
She sat her knitting down and walked over to the swin gset.

"What's going on here?"  she asked sweetly.

Maxine stopped struggling with Jeremy and looked at his
mother.  Ruth let go of his buttocks guiltily.  Maxine
decided to take the offensive.  "Ruth and I was just trying
to help Jeremy out by checking his diaper to see if he
needed a change," she said.  "But he won't let us.  You know
how lax these little boys are about being dirty. "  

"Indeed I do," Jeremy's mother said, nodding.  "When he was
a little boy, I swear Jeremy liked being dirty.  He'd go
around the house with a load in his diaper like it didn't
bother him at all – he'd even sit on it!  And you know what
a mess that makes when they do!"  She turned to Jeremy, who
was still trying to push Maxine's hand away from his diaper
top.  "Jeremy Whitt, stop pushing that girl!  She's just
trying to help you stay clean!"

"But Ma," Jeremy whined.  "She's tryin' to stick her hands
in my pants!"  He lowered his voice to a hoarse whisper. 
"Around my boy stuff," he added, looking embarrassed.

"I'm sure she was just trying to feel where the wetness
would be if you had an accident," his mother said
pleasantly.  "Now hold still and let her check you."

"Maaaaa!" Jeremy wailed, shocked at her response.  

"Not another word, Jeremy Whitt!" his mother said.  "I'm
going back to my knitting, and I don't want to be disturbed
all the time by your little problems.  These girls are
helping me by monitoring you and making sure you stay dry
and clean.  So when one of them wants to check you, you let
them check you!  No arguments!  If I have to come back, I'm
bringing the paddle."  She turned and stalked back to her
bench, picking up her knitting and clicking them rapidly.

Maxine turned back to Jeremy, looking at him with cold,
calculating appraisal.  Jeremy felt like a mouse who has
just discovered that four cats suddenly have him trapped in
a corner.  Four female cats.  Four female cats with sharp
claws and a desire to play with their food.  Maxine reached
for his diaper again.  "Hold still this time," she said. 
"Or I'll make it worse for you."

Given where she was going, Jeremy could think of all sorts
of ways she could make it worse for him, things involving
pulling, tugging, scratching, pinching, and hard squeezing. 
Trembling, he held still.  Maxine, grinning in his face at
his helplessness, slid her hand slowly into the top of the
tight diaper, her fingers working down his lower belly,
feeling the smooth, Vaseline-oiled skin, then sliding into
his pubic triangle and the padded skin there.  He held his
breath as the side of her index finger finally contacted his
mickie, now mostly hard and trapped pointing uncomfortably
downward in the warm, sweaty confines of his diaper.  She
wormed her hand sideways, slipping two fingers across his
mickie, and then sliding her thumb under it and giving it a
gentle squeeze.  

"His peter's hard," she announced.  "I think he's in love
with me.  You were right, Francine.  It's pretty tiny."

Jeremy blushed redder, still tense and holding his breath. 
Francine shoved her hand in deeper, running her fingertips
around the ridge of the head.  "Yep," she continued.  "It's
a little one, all right.  I'm going to see if I can feel his
balls."

"Nooooo!" Jeremy moaned.  "You'll hurt me!"

"Don't be silly," Maxine said.  "I just want to feel them." 
She forced hand in farther, probing around under Jeremy's
penis, trying to detect the hard lumps she'd seen in the
sacks of all the little boys she'd babysat, and the others
she'd persuaded to play "show me yours and I'll show you
mine," a game she had pursued avidly for a period of months
back when she was 8 or nine.  She poked around for several
moments that were quite uncomfortable for Jeremy, then
withdrew her hand.  "Couldn't find them," she said.  "He
probably doesn't have any.  Some boys don't, you know."

"I do so!" Jeremy insisted hotly.  

"He does," Francine admitted.  "They're not big, but they're
there.  I saw them."  

"I felt them, too," Shirley said, feeling the need to defend
her cousin.  Maxine shifted to the back of Jeremy's diaper
and wormed her hand in there. 

Jeremy winced as she roughly probed his still sore butt,
running her hand over the surface of each of his buns, then
following the crack downward.  "Man is he bumpy and hot,"
Maxine reported.  "He must have gotten blistered good!"

"All over his bottom," Francine said.  "I told you he
cried."

"I got blistered worse by the principal, I bet," Bobby
chimed in.

"Did he?" Francine asked.

"Heck, I don't know," Maxine said.  "He's all modest and
wouldn't show me.  He just went around wincing when he sat
down and moaning that his butt hurt.  I think it was the
only time he's ever been spanked."

"He wouldn't show you?  Not even his butt? Ruth said,
interested.  "I thought sisters always see their little
brothers naked."

"She's not my sister," Bobby said.  He didn't like the way
this conversation was turning, especially the talk about
Maxine seeing him naked.  There was no way he was letting
that little bitch see him naked.  That was how he thought of
his stepsister when he thought of her, as "The Little
Bitch."  His grandmother was "The Old Bitch," of course. 
And he had no intention of letting either one see him naked. 
He hadn't even let his mother see him naked when he'd lived
with her, not, at least after the age of 5 or 6.  

In fact, the paddling he'd gotten at school had been more
traumatic for that reason – it wasn't just that it had hurt
his butt something terrible, although it had.  It was the
fact that Mrs. Hempstead had stood there, glaring at him and
holding his hands in the air, as the principal, old Fossil
Face himself, had stripped his pants and then underpants all
the way down to his ankles, baring everything in front of
himself and Mrs. Hempstead.  She'd seen his peter, his
balls, everything!.  She'd gotten a good long look at them,
because old Fossil Face took his sweet time tucking Bobby's
pants and then his underpants down at his ankles to ready
him for paddling.  

Worse, his peter had been hard – hard and sticking up like a
plant growing out of a rock, while his ball bag had gathered
itself tightly so that it bulged out neatly underneath,
completing the image.  The head had even emerged from the
normally drooping, concealing foreskin, so that the entire
head was exposed, pee slit visible and everything!  Although
the whole thing was less than 2 inches long and fairly
narrow as well, it stuck up so prominently that Mrs.
Hempstead had stared at it the whole time his pants were
being prepared.  She had then twirled him around 180 degrees
and examined his now bared butt, easily holding him up on
his tip toes as she had run her other palm over each of his
cheeks several times, then pronounced to old Fossil Face
that "This young man has nice, sturdy, prominent buttocks
that will be able to take quite a lot of good, firm
paddling," and suggesting he use the 6th grade paddle.  Old
Fossil Face had almost been grinning as he'd plucked the
heavy sixth grade paddle from his display on the wall. 
Bobby's eyes had bulged at the sight of it at the time. 
Each paddle was labeled.  The first grade paddle, for
example, looked like a paint stirring stick, small and
narrow and light.  The paddles got bigger and bigger was one
went up through the grades, with the fourth-grade paddle
resembling strongly the paddle from the little paddle-ball
games with a ball on a rubber band that kids played with,
except it was thicker and heavier.  But the 6th grade paddle
had a longer handle for more leverage, and was a long, thick
board, completely smooth and well varnished along its
length.  Upon seeing it, for the first time Bobby had
stopped worrying about being seen naked by these two, and
began to worry about the serious butt pain he was about to
experience.

Bobby shuddered and pushed the thoughts out of his mind. 
That had been his first and only bare-butt paddling.  His
mother had spanked him now and then, but only through his
pants and it never hurt much, although he'd make himself cry
to satisfy her that he was sorry.  His two minutes over
Fossil Face's lap, on the other hand, while Mrs. Hempstead
tightly held his hands and he kicked and screamed despite
his determination to be tough, had been the most horrible of
his life – worse than when he fell on his bicycle bar and
practically squashed his balls, even.  At the time, all he'd
been aware of was the burning, stinging pain that kept
exploding to new heights with each blow, each endless,
painful blow.  He hadn't even been clearly aware when it was
over to start with, because his butt had burned so much. 
And then he'd danced, to his shame – danced the spanked
little boy dance around the principal's office with his
pants around his ankles hindering his movements and his
hands cupping his throbbing butt and his little peter
wagging in the air, flopping now that he'd lost his hard on. 


But he wasn't going to think about that now.  After all,
school didn't start again until fall, and his grandmother
didn't spank kids—he'd asked Maxine when he'd moved in and
she'd said she'd never been spanked.  His own experiments
had confirmed this – he'd pushed his grandmother pretty
hard, so far, and she'd tolerated all of his misbehavior..

"I'm not her brother," he repeated.

"You are too," Maxine said.  ""You're my step-brother – we
have the same father."

"I know he just moved in with you a few months ago," Ruth
said.  "But surely you've seen him changing clothes or
taking a bath or something."

"Nope.  He hides all the time.  He's really modest.  He
thinks he's special or something," Maxine said.  "Like all
boys don't have peters just like his."  

"Mine is special," Bobby said.  "And you're never going to
see it.  So there."

"Maybe it's so little he's ashamed of it," Ruth suggested.

"Is not," Bobby said.  "It's big – bigger than anyone's."

"Prove it," Ruth said.

"No way," Bobby said.  "You two will never see it.  Never,
ever, ever!"

"Maybe, maybe not," Maxine said, a glimmer growing in her
eyes.  The outline of the most marvelous plan had just
occurred to her – a plan with tremendous possibilities. 
"We'll see, won't we?" she added cryptically.
.
Jeremy thought a moment.  He'd seen Bobby's mickie, he was
sure of it.  Standing at the long trough urinal in the boy's
room at school he'd seen the mickies of all the boys his
age.  He didn't remember Bobby's as anything special,
although it seemed now like Bobby was one of the two or
three boys who had the sagging hood of skin hanging off the
tip so that you couldn't see the head.  But it was nothing
special.  Actually, none of the mickies of the boys his age
were particularly special.  Except for Tommy Nostrum, that
is, who was chubby and had a mickie that looked like the
nipple on a baby bottle, and that he didn't even have to aim
when he peed, and that sometimes disappeared entirely.

Jeremy realized that all of this thinking about peeing
wasn't doing him any good at all.  He had to pee, no
question about it, and it would have to be soon.  But he
couldn't do it while Maxine and Ruth and Bobby were here! 
His mother would change him right there, with all of them
watching!  She'd brought all the changing stuff in a
shopping bag!  It was bad enough that Francine and Shirley
had seen him, he didn't want to add Maxine and Ruth to that
list.  Not to mention the little boy and girl who were
running around shrieking by the monkey bars.  And he'd have
no status with Bobby at all if the other boy got to watch
while he was diapered like a baby, got to stare at his butt
and his mickie and everything while he lay there helplessly. 
  He'd just have to hold it until the left, that's all. 
He'd have to!

But 20 minutes later with his mother showing no signs of
wanting to go home, Jeremy's determination to hold it came
to an abrupt end.  As he might have anticipated, Maxine was
the instigator.  He had been put to work pushing various
girls on the swings, while they took turns mocking his
diapered condition and discussing what had been like to
watch him get his paddling on the front porch.  Maxine had
gotten off the swing to give Francine a turn, and was
standing beside Jeremy, when she began teasing him again
about being in diapers.  "You're going to have to pee
yourself soon, Diaper-Baby," she said, grinning at him
evilly.  "And then they're going to change you," she said. 
"And Ruth and I aren't going anywhere until they do."

She placed a hand on his belly, where it was bare below his
shirt, and began worming her hand down into his diaper
again.  "Time for another wetness check," she said.  Jeremy
endured her exploration stoically, not even flinching when
she gave his mickie a familiar pair of squeezes and then
spent some time probing for his still shy balls.  As before,
his little mickie was rock hard in his diaper, and her
squeezing it made it harder.  It felt good, kind of, like
when Shirley had been rubbing it, but he liked Shirley
rubbing it a lot better.  Then Maxine had withdrawn her hand
and reinserted it on the butt side of his diaper, meanwhile
commenting, "I bet you'd like to take a nice pee right now,
wouldn't you Jeremy?  Think how good it would feel!  Just
letting yourself go, letting the pee come out, letting it
flow right out your little peter!  Think how warm and wet it
would feel as it soaked into your diaper!  Think how good it
would feel to go, let the pee come out and make you feel all
warm and squishy!  Think about pee soaking up your whole
diaper, how warm it would feel against your peter!  Just
think, hot pee flowing around your balls and down between
your legs, soaking up the backside of your diaper, making
your butt feel all warm and cozy, too!  I bet you gotta pee
real bad!  Just let it go, Jeremy.  Let it all come out! 
You'll feel lots better!  Feel the pee inside of you, trying
to get out!  Think of it coming out, how good you're going
to feel!  Warm pee flowing through your peter, coming out
the tip, nice and warm on you soaking your crotch!"  She
continued to caress his butt, and began to make a little
noise that was her imitation of the noise of a boy peeing, a
kind of hissing sound.  It was really the sound that did it,
but all the talk of peeing had set it up.  Suddenly, Jeremy
couldn't hold it any more, and pee surged out of him, a
surprisingly large amount of it.  As Maxine had said, it
flooded his crotch with warmth and surged around the back to
the diaper wetting the bottom half as well, taking Maxine by
surprise and causing her to suddenly jerk her hand out of
the back of his diaper.  It soaked through both diapers in
front, appearing as a visible wet spot right in the
strategic point where the diaper dived thickly between his
legs.  It was immediately obvious to everybody at the swing
said that Jeremy had wet his pants.

"Mrs. Whitt!  Jeremy wet himself," Francine called across
the playground, attracting not just his mother's attention,
but the little boy and girl who were still playing.  They
came racing over, excitedly staring at Jeremy's crotch,
pointing and laughing at the big boy who'd wet himself. 
Bobby was looking at him with contempt, the girls, all with
happy excitement.

"Bring him over here to the picnic area," his mother called. 
"We'll change him on one of the picnic tables."  She picked
up the shopping bag that she had brought the diaper
equipment in.

"Come on, Diaper-Baby," Maxine said cheerfully.  "Time to
change you little bottom!"

"Time for all of us to see him bare naked, you mean," Ruth
added.  "Your Ma will have to wash your diaper area all
over," she said.  "So we'll see everything, all your boy
stuff!" Crowded by the girls, and hemmed in so he couldn't
escape, and with the smaller children dancing around him,
Jeremy trudged to the picnic table, like a boy trudging to
his execution.  Once there, his mother urged him to climb up
and then made him lie on his back on the top, telling him to
cradle his hands behind his head, than spreading his heels
apart so his legs were separated.

"Could you get the pins on each side, please, girls?" his
mother said sweetly.  Francine snapped the diaper pins loose
on his left side and Maxine snapped the diaper pins loose on
his right.  Jeremy lay there trembling, hating the fact he
was about to be exposed to all these people, especially the
girls.  But there was no escaping it.  As the diaper pins
were removed, the side flaps of his diaper fell down, and
without waiting even a moment, his mother grabbed the top
flap and pulled it down and let it settle between his spread
legs.

"Lift your little bottom, dear," his mother said sweetly,. 
Jeremy shut his eyes and tried to pretend that there weren't
four girls near his own age, a boy about his own age, and a
younger girl and boy all avidly looking at his now
completely bare genitals.  He lifted his groin.  He
realizded to his chagrin, that his mickie was still rock
hard, arcing straight up like a little pole out of his
groin.  

The little girl began chanting, "I see your pee pee, I see
you your pee pee!"  over and over again, making a little
song out of it.  The little boy climbed on the picnic table
benches, and frowned down at Jeremy.  "How come his wee-wee
isn't any bigger than mine?"  He asked, puzzlement in his
voice.  "Shouldn't it be bigger?"

The rest of the group around the picnic table ignored him. 
Jeremy's mother poked around in the bag, coming up with a
dry washcloth.  "Will someone run over to the water spigot
and wet this down for me?" she said.  Shirley jumped to
comly.  Just great, thought Jeremy.  So I get to lie here
the whole time with my mikie sticking out while my cousing
goes to get water.  How can this get any worse?

Jeremy quickly discovered this was just not a good question
to keep asking himself—fate seemed determined to keep
topping itself.  Because the next thing that Ruth said was
"Can I touch him, Mrs. Witt?  I have never really touched a
real boy before, not there."

Mrs. Witt looked thoughtful.  "I suppose it would be okay,"
she said.  "Since you're both still so young, there really
isn't any harm in it.  It's not like he can have those kinds
of feelings yet.  And girls should know about little boys. 
So they can be good mommies some day.  Jeremy's eyes snapped
open just in time to see her take Ruth's hand and place it
in a fist around his erect penis, gently squeezing her hand
to encourage her to squeeze him.

"It's hard!"  Ruth said, giving Jeremy a couple of more
squeezes.  "Aren't they usually all soft and droopy, you
know, like little saggy things?"

"Usually," Jeremy's mother said.  "But a lot of times when
you go to change little boys, they'll get hard like this,"
she said.  "I think it's being out in the open-air that does
it."  Jeremy shifted uncomfortably.  He had enjoyed
Shirley's touch, but he did not like this girl touching his
penis, not at all! She was currently looking at the tip,
where the foreskin was partially covering the ridge of the
head.

Just then, the little girl chimed in.  "I want to squeeze it
too,  I want to squeeze it too!"  she begged.  "Please,
please can I!"

"All right, but just for a minute," Jeremy's mother said. 
Ruth reluctantly removed her grip from Jeremy's penis, and
the little girl's hand replaced hers.  She immediately began
milking his penis like it was the teat of a cow and she was
determined to fill the morning milk bucket.  

"It feels like a rubber," the little girl said.  The tickly,
shivery feelings in his mickie began building in Jeremy. 
But the little girl had a short attention span, quickly
dropping his tool and clambering down.  

"Bet it bounces like rubber too," Maxine said.  She reached
over with her hand and began batting Jeremy's hard penis,
watching it wave in the air and rebound after each time she
hit it.

"Hey, you're hurting me!"  Jeremy protested.

"Shush," his mother said.  "She's not hurting you—she's not
hitting it hard enough.  She's just playing."  Maxine
continued to bat his mickie, to his increasing distress,
until Shirley came running back with a dripping wet
washcloth.  Jeremy's mother took it and squeezed it out,
asking, gaily "who wants to wash his front?"  The girls
looked at each other.

"I will!"  Ruth said.  She snatched up the washcloth and
began rubbing it vigorously around Jeremy's groin, scrubbing
especially roughly over his wrinkled scrotal sack.

"Ow!  Ow ow ow!"  Jeremy complained.  "Don't be so rough!"

"Don't be quite so rough, dear," Jeremy mother chided Ruth. 
"Boys are quite delicate in that area."  Ruth transferred
her attention to roughly scrubbing his hard penis, instead.
The shivery feelings returned.  Jeremy's mother frowned as
she saw the tip swell, making the foreskin retreat.  She
reached out a hand.  "I believe that's quite enough on that
part of him,dear, "she said mildly.  Ruth looked
disappointed.  Jeremy sighed in frustration.  He'd been
getting that internal feeling again, the tickly one that him
want her to stop and want her to continue with the same
time.  If she just gone on a few moments more...

"Now we've got to clean your bottom, Jeremy, dear," his
mother said.  "Who wants to handle that part?"

"Not me," Maxine said firmly.  "I know what comes out of
there."

"I'll do it," Bobby said suddenly. He took the cloth.  

"Get up and turn over, Jeremy," his mother ordered.  Glad to
be able to hide his mickie for awhile, Jeremy sat up and
turned over.  The picnic table felt cold on his stomach and
his hard mickie.  The assembled kids examined Jeremy's now
exposed butt.

"Gee willikers," Ruth said.  "He's really blistered."

Jeremy's butt was still a combination of pink and red
blotches, with little blisters centered on each bun and
scattered down the crack.  

"I'm afraid I had to give him a good paddling," his mother
said.  "He's been getting too big for his britches."

"Someone hold his butt apart for me," Bobby said.  "I've got
to get the whole thing."

Jeremy buried his face his crossed arms, overwhelmed with
shame, as the girls seized his butt on either side and
spread it widely, exposing his dookie hole to everyone.  He
could almost feel Bobby leaning in, and then the cold wet
washcloth descended on his crack, scrubbing up and down his
crack and over his hole, roughly and painfully.  Jeremy
shivered, but did not cry it out, not wanting to give this
boy the satisfaction of hurting him.  Tired of scrubbing
Jeremy's hole, Bobby switched his attention to Jeremy's
painfully sore bottom, scrubbing the whole surface roughly,
but focusing especially on the thickest collections of
blisters.  This time Jeremy couldn't help himself,  he was
forced to voice his protests.

"Ow!  Ow, ow, ow!" he protested again.  "That hurts!"

"Too bad," Bobby commented. "But I have to scrub hardest
where you're dirtiest."  He finally stopped scrubbing Jeremy
sore butt and set the washcloth down.  "He's as clean as I
can make him," he said.  "You can only do so much with just
water."

"Get up, Jeremy," his mother commanded. "Go play with the
girls for awhile."

"But I'm naked!" Jeremy protested.  

"You need to air out your diaper area before we diaper you
again," his mother said.  "So you don't get diaper rash.  A
little sun will be good for you.  Now run along and play
with the other children!"

"Yes, come along, Jeremy," Maxine said, grinning.  "I've got
a terrific idea for a little show we can put on!"

"What do you mean, a little show?" Jeremy said suspiciously. 
He gotten down from the picnic table and was now torn
between the urge to cover his genitals and the fear that
touching them would lead to more ridicule from the
surrounding children.  He finally opted for avoiding
ridicule.

"Just a little song I want to teach you," she said, smiling. 
"And then you can perform it for your mother and the rest of
them."

"Oh, that sounds fun!" Jeremy's mother said.  "I've always
loved Jeremy's performances.  He sings so sweetly!  I really
love it when there are little hand motions that go with the
song!"

"This song will have hand motions, too,"  Maxine promised. 
"It'll be cute!"

"Excellent!" Jeremy's mother said.  "Now you run along with
Maxine, Jeremy, and learn her song, then you can come back
and show us all."

"Ma, do I have to?" Jeremy said plaintively.  "Can't I at
least have a new diaper first?"

"I already explained to you, Jeremy, that your little bottom
and boy parts need to get some sun and air if you're not
going to get diaper rash on your little doo-hickey!  Now I
don't want to hear any more nonsense about this!  Go with
Maxine this instant, and learn her song!"

"But Ma, what if she wants me to do something embarrassing?"

"Jeremy Whitt, stop all this whining!" his mother snapped. 
"I'm sure whatever song Maxine wants you to learn will be
perfectly charming.  Now stop being difficult and go do what
she says to do."

"But Ma,…" Jeremy began again.

"EVERYTHING she says to do," his mother said again.  "Or do
I have to send the paddle with her?"  She pointed to
Jeremy's exposed bottom.  "You're in a bad position to
argue, buddy-boy."

Grumbling, Jeremy went with Maxine to an area out of sight
behind some trees.  They were gone for some time.  At one
point, Jeremy's voice could be heard complaining, "No way,
I'm not doing it!" followed by Maxine suggesting she could
go get the paddle and change his mind.  There were several
more isolated protests of this nature from Jeremy,  more
threats of the paddle from Maxine,  and the passage of
somewhat more time.  Finally, a red-faced Jeremy came back
out of the bushes being prodded by Maxine, who was looking
triumphant.  She marched him to the picnic table where his
mother was sitting and gathered all the other children. 
Jeremy tried one last protest.  "Ma, do I have to do this? 
Please?"

"It's really funny, Mrs. Whitt," Maxine promised.  "I think
everyone will enjoy it!  But it will only work if he does it
right, and really tries hard."

"I can't wait to see it," Mrs. Whitt said.  "Don't spoil
everyone's fun, Jeremy!"

"But I don't wanna do it," Jeremy wailed.  "It's – it's
embarrassing!  Especially the stuff I have to do when I sing
it!"

"See, Mrs. Whitt," Maxine said sadly.  "He's going to spoil
it."

"No he won't," Jeremy's mother said.  She looked at Jeremy
sternly.  "Young man, you will sing your song this instant,
and you will do the motions that Maxine taught you, too! 
And if you don't do them enthusiastically enough, I'm going
to let Maxine paddle your little butt and then make you do
it again!"

Jeremy gave a start at this threat.  Let Maxine paddle him? 
He'd die – He'd just die!  Not to mention how much it would
hurt on his already damaged bottom!  He cleared his through
and began singing softly to the tune of "I'm a Little
Teapot."

"I'm a little pee-pot, short and stout,
Here is my bottom, here is my spout."

Jeremy pointed toward himself during the first line,  turned
his bare bottom slightly toward the crowd at the beginning
of this second line, then turned back to face them and
pointed vaguely in the direction of his penis for the end of
the line.  His face was beet red with embarrassment.  .He
stopped.  "Ma, do I have to do the rest?" he whined. "The
next part is worse!"

"Of course you do," his mother said.  "Your song is
adorable.  I can't wait to hear the rest of it.  But start
from the beginning again, and sing louder, so we all can
hear you!  And make bigger gestures – they make the song
cuter."

Jeremy started again, singing slightly louder.  His face was
so red now it looked like he might explode.  

"I'm a little pee-pot, short and stout,
Here is my bottom, here is my spout.
Here's the little hole where the pee comes out.
Then, "Change my diaper, Ma," I shout."

Jeremy made the same motions he'd made previously for the
first two lines, turning his bottom fully toward the crowd
for the first line, then moving his hands down to point to
his penis on the second.  This time, as he went on to the
third line, he took his penis in both hands like Maxine had
ordered him, and pointed the tip toward the crowd, then
dropped it for the fourth line.  He stopped and looked at
his mother pleadingly.  "Do I have to do the second verse?"
he said.  "Please?  It's nasty!  She makes be spread my
bottom!"

"Your bottom was spread on the table in front of everyone
just a minute ago," His mother said.  "You should be used to
it.  Besides, you don't have anything there different from
what everyone else has."  

"'Cept his is dirtier," Ruth quipped.

Jeremy blushed, gulped, looked at the paddle sitting next to
his Ma on the bench, and began again, this time by turning
his back on them, bending over, spreading his bottom with
his hands, and singing through his legs.  His tight little
butt hole winked at the watching crowd.

"Poo comes out my bottom, fills my pants,
I have to do my diaper dance."

Jeremy straightened again and did a squatting walk, like a
boy with an uncomfortably full diaper, continuing singing.

"I'm still a little baby, you can see,
I ain't got no hairs on me!"

During this last section, Jeremy waved his hands over his
naked pubic area, which was, indeed, completely hairless and
smooth.

The watching audience of kids burst into applause as Jeremy
finished, his mother joining in while laughing hysterically. 
"That was terrific, Jeremy," she said.  "I loved it!  Good
job, Maxine!"  Jeremy looked at the ground, still
concentrating on sinking into it.  His mother looked at him
brightly.  "Don't be so sulky, son," she said.  "It's just a
silly song!  In fact, why don't you sing it again, and make
your motions more enthusiastic this time!"

"Maaaaaaa!" Jeremy complained.  

"NOW, Jeremy," his mother ordered.  She lifted the paddle
and waved it toward his butt.  Jeremy began singing loudly,
exaggerating all his motions so much that he waggled his
butt wildly when saying "here is my bottom,"yanked his penis
out to full length when saying "here is my spout," and
almost split himself in half displaying his butt crack..  He
finished to wild applause, while looking at the ground,
blushing.  

The little boy, who'd been watching this older child's
embarrassing performance, suddenly pulled the front of his
own pants down.  "Here's my spout," he said, pushing the
front low enough that his entire groin was bare and his
little finger of a penis hung down over an almost hidden
sack.   "Look, it's as big as his!"  He edged up by Jeremy
so they could compare his equipment to the older boy's. 
Maxine spoke first.  

"By golly, he's right," she said.  "His is as big as yours,"
she said, pointing.

"That's enough, now," Jeremy's mother said.  "Put that thing
away, young man," she added to the little boy.  "Jeremy, I
think you're aired out enough and it's time to put your
diaper back on.  And then we need to go home."

Of course, the entire crowd of kids gathered around the
picnic table again to watch Jeremy be thoroughly covered
with Vaseline by Shirley and then be pinned back in diapers
by Francine with Maxine's help.  With everyone watching,
Shirley couldn't linger on the boy's fascinating little pole
this time and it barely started to stiffen before she was
done as a result, but it was still gratifying to be able to
touch him all over.  Afterward, the four of them walked home
in silence.  

Jeremy spent the rest of the day confined to his room except
for supper time, where he stood at the side of the table
while he ate, still not wishing to sit on his sore diaper
area.  Shortly thereafter he wet himself again and was
changed by the girls.  This time he was diapered in three
diapers instead of two, and his mother wrapped the flap of
the top diaper around and pinned it behind Jeremy, above the
curve of his jutting buttocks, so that he couldn't remove
the diaper himself during the night.  

"Now you'll stay in these until morning, Jeremy," his mother
said.  "Don't even think about trying to take them off.  In
the morning we'll clean you up, then I think I'll give you a
little britches dusting to teach you some self-control and
remind you to behave yourself, and after you're done crying
from that you can go back into your regular clothes again."

Britches dusting?  Britches dusting!  She was going to spank
him in the morning, on his bare bottom again!  "I don't need
another spanking, Ma!" Jeremy wailed.  "I already learned to
control myself today, really!"  He looked at her pleadingly. 
"Please don't spank me in the morning, Ma!  My bottom's too
sore already!  It'll hurt!"

Jeremy's mother looked thoughtful.  "Maybe he has learned
self-control," she finally said, looking at Shirley and
Francine.  "After all, he got up on the picnic table to be
diapered without fighting us, and he put on his little show
without too much complaint."  Jeremy looked at her
hopefully, his triple diaper bulging his middle, making his
bottom look huge and his crotch bulge gigantic.  He was
standing slightly bow-legged from all the cloth tucked
between them.

"I'll tell you what," she said.  "I'll give you a chance to
show your self-control to us.  If you're dry and clean in
the morning, when we unpin your diaper, I'll forgo your
morning spanking.   If you can hold it until morning, then
you'll have shown you really can control yourself.  And I
mean hold it both ways – number one and number two."

"But I can't do that!" Jeremy wailed.  He was accustomed to
getting up and peeing in the middle of the night almost
every night – holding it all night wasn't something he did
easily.

"Then you can look forward to a spanking in the morning,"
his mother said.  She gave him a quick hug.  "Just a little
one, to remind you to be good – only 15 smacks if you go
over my lap and hold still.  Unless you do a number two in
your diaper, and then I'll raise it to 25.  It'll hurt, of
course, but it'll be quick, and after you finish your corner
time it'll be over."

Jeremy had trooped off disconsolately to bed.  Shortly
thereafter, Francine left to walk home, and Shirley and her
aunt popped popcorn and then listened to her favorite radio
shows until she couldn't keep her eyes open any more. 

Meanwhile, Jeremy was lying face up on his bed with his legs
spread because of the thick layers of cloth between them,
wide awake, his mouth watering for the popcorn he could
smell in the air.  He was almost petrified with fear of the
spanking he was sure to get tomorrow when he was discovered
to be wet by his mother.  He couldn't possibly go all night
without peeing – he never did!  For that matter, his bowel
was already feeling full – would he greet them in the
morning only to face the humiliation of pants full of poop
and the extra 10 smacks that would trigger.  What was he
going to do?  He tried to think of a plan to extricate
himself from this one.  His butt was still so sore!

Shirley's  aunt made up a bed for her on the floor in a
corner of the living room, and Shirley changed into her
short summer nightie, keeping her panties on because she as
in a strange house rather than letting her tween "air out"
as her mother liked to say.  Her aunt retired into her own
bedroom, and Shirley lay there for awhile, visions of a
naked Jeremy dominating her thoughts.  Jeremy from the back,
his little bare bottom with its deep cleft looking so smooth
and inviting.  Jeremy bent over, looking back between his
legs at her, his bottom spread so his doo-doo place showed
and his little bag clung between his legs.  She liked his
little bag.  She even liked his doo-doo place when it wasn't
dirty – there was something naughty and secret about looking
where a boy's doo-doo came out.  She moved on to picturing
Jeremy from the front, his odd and fascinating appendage
drooping in front of the shriveled little bag under it with
its two prominent little marbles.  Jeremy from the front,
his appendage standing up rigid and hard, pulsing in her
hand like a live thing.  Such a fascinating thing boys had. 
They must all have them, she thought, every one of them! 
All of them, walking around, and all the time those things
were in their pants, right there, where, if she had the
nerve, she could reach over and brush her hand over them,
feel them through the cloth.  She felt a powerful longing
such as she'd never felt.  A longing to see them, all of
them.  To touch them, make them all stiff and hard, feel
them pulsing in her hand like Jeremy's.  They were so
foreign, so unlike her own tween, and yet so inviting!