Tommy's Attitude Adjustment Chapter 33
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 33: Tommy Learns Who He Is

Tommy followed Naomi silently out of his neighborhood and
through various twists and turns into a part of town where
he seldom ventured.  The walk was a long one, more than 2
miles, and the soreness of his tortured anus and the
residual soreness of his well-paddled butt made the movement
of his shorts over his buttocks continually uncomfortable. 
They finally arrived in an area near downtown, an area much
more urban did his own suburban neighborhood, with shops on
the streets and apartments all above them, and traffic on
the streets even though it was Sunday.  She motioned him up
the narrow flight of stairs next to a flower shop and
unlocked the door at the top.  Stepping inside behind her,
he discovered a narrow, dark hallway.  She shut the door and
locked it with a key from the inside, and motioned him to
follow, leading him into a small room with a desk on one
side, a window on the other, and a pair of chairs in the
small remaining space.  Sketches were taped to every wall,
sketches that revealed credible talent to Tommy's untrained
eyes.  "Sit," Naomi said cursorily, plopping down in the
other chair.  Tommy sat down cautiously, glancing around the
room.  A sketch of the faces of two quite cute girls, one
about his age, was directly opposite him, both girls smiling
merrily.  He studied it.  It was nice work – they looked
like they could jump right off the page, and they were cute
besides.  The older girl had dimples and light, wavy hair
framing her face.  The younger girl had short hair and an
almost boyish look, her darker eyes dancing with mischief
the way his friend Jesse's often did.  In fact, her mop
haircut made her resemble Jesse in some ways, and he found
himself looking at her with some fondness.  

Disturbed by the connection he'd just made, Tommy shifted
his gaze to the adjoining sketch.  It was just the older
girl this time, in a ballet pose, head thrown back and one
leg extended with the toe pointed.  The costume she was
wearing was skimpy even by ballet standards, though – her
small, budding breast clearly poked out of the front of the
leotard, the nipples clearly outlined, and her tight,
rounded but swelled out the rear.  Growing more 
uncomfortable with the type of pictures this girl who wanted
him as a model painted, Tommy shifted to the next picture,
relieved to see that it was just a head and shoulders shot,
stopping before where her immature breasts would be.  But on
closer look the same theme appeared – it was of the younger
girl, working her finger in the button hole at the top of
her blouse, her tongue licking her upper lip in a definite
come-on pose, the kind of pose that said, "I can lick other
things, too, you know."

With his disquiet rising, Tommy rotated his head to see the
next picture and froze.  The same younger girl was in it,
but her pose was like one he'd never seen before except in
some quickly glimpsed Playboys he'd seen at a friend's
house.   She was bending over, the picture showing her from
the rear, grinning back through her legs at the artist.  The
picture was rendered in loving detail, again powerfully
realistic.  But it wasn't the level of detail that had
brought Tommy up short – it was her costume – she was
wearing the tiniest of bikini bottoms in the picture, and
was wearing no top at all.  A tiny but perfectly drawn
nipple, no different than that found on a boy, was just
visible on one side of her chest from between her legs.  The
bikini bottom was so narrow that a good 2 inches of her butt
crack was visible above the cloth, and the triangle covering
her pubes was so narrow that clefts of skin where her pubes
joined her thighs peaked out.  And in the center of the
small triangle, the cloth clung tightly, outlining her baby-
fat padded pubic area clearly, so clearly you could plainly
see the furrow dividing the middle, almost as clearly as if
she'd been naked like that girl Chandra who'd been punished
with Chad and Alan a few weeks back.  Tommy quickly and
guiltily looked away, back to the front of the room, only to
find that Naomi had been studying his face the whole time
he'd been studying the pictures, gauging his reaction.

"My younger sisters," she said, nodding toward the pictures. 
"Both of them major pieces of ass.  Oh, don't look so
shocked!  That's what you were thinking!  You don't have to
act so guilty – they're not shy.  They're proud of their
bodies, like all females should be.  The nudes are on the
back wall, go ahead, take a look at them.  It's obvious you
liked Melissa's teaser pictures."

"That's okay, I don't need to see them," Tommy said,
embarrassed at the way this girl read his thoughts.

"I said look at them," Naomi said.  "Turn around and look at
them.  Study them carefully.  I want you to see what I can
do.  Then I'll explain what you're going to do.  And you'll
do it.  Or else."  She waved the flyswatter in the general
direction of Tommy's crotch.  Tommy flinched and jumped
backward in his chair, then obediently turned around to look
behind him.

The two girls were indeed nude in the pictures on the back
wall.  On the left side, the younger girl stood with arms
crossed on her chest, her chin raised proudly and defiantly
at the artist, her legs firmly planted wide.  She wasn't
wearing a stitch of clothing of any kind, and her body was
uniformly colored as well, with no visible tan lines at all. 
Her pubic triangle was fully exposed in this one, not just
hinted at.  She was painted facing the artist full on, with
nothing hidden at all.  Tommy, expecting something like he'd
seen on Alan's cousin Chandra when she'd had to strip and be
punished a few weeks ago, was surprised to see that her
genitals were not the tight furrow Chandra had sported, with
everything hidden demurely inside.  Instead, her pussy lips
were separated with pinker tissue sticking out between,
making an uneven, rippling mouth-like affair.  There was a 
rounded split at the bottom between her legs, which sat wide
apart, so wide you could see her smooth buttocks curving up
the other side.  At the top of the ragged furrow was the
same hooded bump he'd seen an Chandra, only this one was
bigger, so that the tip stuck out, separating her pussy
slightly there, and was at least twice as big as Chandra's. 
In the center, between top and bottom, the lips were parted
just enough to hint at the shadow of a narrow opening in
there – an opening that glistened slightly with moisture. 
The hole where boys are supposed to stick their dicks, Tommy
realized.  Like the one he'd been able to see on Chandra
only when she spread her pussy lips.  Tommy's gaze was
caught and he stared, mesmerized by the sexually explicit
rendering of this girl's privates.  It was almost as
realistic as a black and white photograph, as clinical as a
medical diagram, as sexual as a fully grown woman's
privates.

The twitch of his rapidly hardening penis in his pants
forced him to shift his eyes to the center picture.  There,
the older girl was standing in ¾ profile to the artist, her
back leg on a short stool, her female parts also separated
in the picture, even more than those of her sister, so that
her dick hole – what did they call it – oh, yeah, her
vagina, Tommy corrected himself, was more clearly visible
even from the outside.  The view also allowed a side view of
her smooth, round buttocks, just acquiring their womanly
curves, and of her budding busom, with small, firm breasts
and upward jutting, rapidly developing nipples clearly
visible.  She held a small whip in one hand, the end of it
trailing down beside her leg to the ground, and her
expression said that she could control any boy or beast with
it.  Tommy's penis lurched to full hardness. 

In a trance, Tommy shifted to the third picture and almost
fell off his chair.  This wasn't just a sketch – it was a
full-color painting, as realistic and detailed as a
photograph, or maybe as detailed as if the two were right
there, in the flesh.  It depicted the two girls on all fours
side by side, with nothing but their butts and the backs of
their thighs visible in close-up.  Both girls were arching
their backs and had their legs apart slighly, so that their
genitals were clearly and completely visible between their
legs, and both sets of genitals were drawn in exquisite
detail, with every fold, shadow, and wrinkle visible.  This
time both were fully separated, so that their dick holes and
pee slits were both clearly visible in the pink valley of
tissue between their pussy lips.  It was like two almost
identical pussies were being presented to him right there,
ready for him to just pick the one he wanted for his dick. 
Their butt holes were wide open and explicitly drawn, too,
the younger girl's looking smaller and tighter, the older
one's looking pinker and somehow more attractive, even
inviting.  Tommy briefly flashed to when he'd lined his dick
up against Gabriel's tight hole, realizing it had been much
like the younger girl's in appearance.  Thought of invading
his cousin made his penis lurch in his pants.  With sudden
insight, he realized that although the girls' dick holes
were right there, aimed right at him, it was their butt
holes that he had thoughts of burying himself in, that were
somehow more exciting and attractive.  His penis lurched
again in his pants as he thought of pushing his dick into
the younger girl's hole, the one that was so much like
Gabriel's.  He found himself briefly trying to remember what
Jesse's butt hole had looked like when Chad had been forced
to kiss it.  His penis shifted again, now tenting his pants,
and he guiltily forced his eyes back down.  Pussies, he
thought.  I should be looking at their pussies.

Looking at the carefully-rendered genitals of both girls
more carefully, Tommy noted they weren't that identical
after all – the older girl, on the left, had a neat little
landing strip of fine hair on her groin just above her
pussy, visible in the picture because her butt was thrust up
and she was leaning downward.   The younger girl's groin was
completely hairless.  The older girl's dick hole was more
open looking, the younger one's tight and small – even Chad
and Gabriel would have a tight fit in there, Tommy thought
to himself.  The older girl's butt was smooth and blemish-
free, but the younger girl had a pimple with a white head,
just aching to be popped, right along the edge of her butt
crack immediately out from her pink, neatly pursed butt
hole.  Yet the overall effect was such that he realized that
had he been told to choose a girl to have sex with, he'd
never have been able to choose between them from this view
alone.  Both were glistening wet inside, making Tommy wonder
if girls were always like that between their folds, and why
they were if that was the case.  He wondered what it would
be like to have sex with these girls – no, to fuck them –
fuck them in their dick holes.  He'd take the younger one,
he realized.  There was something about her he found sexier
– more compelling.  He liked her narrower hips, her tighter
hole – Tommy realized, with a start, that it was her butt
hole he was looking at again. Stop it! He told himself.  He
was supposed to like pussies! But he couldn't take his eyes
off the tight little asterisk of her bottom.  He licked his
dry lips and tried to resist the urge to readjust his aching
penis.  Unbidden, he found himself imagining what Jesse
would look like in that position.  He turned back to look at
Naomi, trying not to reveal his thoughts.

"Hot, aren't they!"  She commented.  "Go on, you can admit
it.  Every guy who sees those pictures gets hard
immediately.  They're part of a series I'm working on – a
photorealistic series called "Pride of Girlhood." When I'm
done, it will be a whole series demonstrating the glory of
the young female body and illustrating why every girl should
feel pride in what she is and what she can do.  It's a
celebration of the female sex rather than the usual shame
the establishment has mandated for us."  She smiled to
herself in satisfaction, then shifted positions, turning to
look directly at Tommy.  "And that's why you're here.  I'm
doing a series on boys, too, that I'll show at the same
time, and I just can't do it without realistic models to get
the musculature right."

Tommy swallowed, hard.  A series like this on boys?  With
nudes?  With him?  "You mean, just like this?  With naked
pictures?" he blurted out.

"Of course with naked pictures.  But not all of them naked –
you'll notice not all of the girls' pictures are nude. 
There's something to be said for building anticipation.  But
it's a yin and yang thing.  Boy and girl, meshing but
opposing forces.  One sticks out, the other takes it in. 
One is rude and invading, the other gracious and accepting. 
Opposites in every way.  You're going to be my model.  I'm
going to make a lot of photographs and sketches of ideas I
have off of you, then I'll pick the best poses and
situations to paint in photorealistic detail, like I'm doing
with the girls.  That's why I need a real live boy model –
everything has to look just right."

"But I have to be naked?" Tommy persisted.

"You have to be any way I say you have to be, young man!  I
will not put up with any contrary male nonsense from you. 
You little boys are all much too modest these days."

She stared off into space, musing.  "My dad and my uncles
used to shower naked together after phys ed from Junior High
onward.  Mandatory showers.  They used to swim naked at the
Y back when no females were allowed in the building.  You
weren't all so afraid to show your precious little butts and
little dorks back then.  That's part of what's wrong with
you young boys these days – you think your bodies are so
special!  Sometimes I wish I'd been painting back then – it
would be so much easier."

She came out of her reverie and glared at him.  "Well, I
don't have time for all this false modesty.  You'll pose how
I tell you to pose, when I tell you to pose, and with whom I
tell you to pose, or I'll take you over my knee, don't think
I won't.  And I'll burn your little butt until you decide
you're going to cooperate!  As long as it takes!  I know how
to punish little boys like you!  Now are you going to do
everything I say, or do I pull down your panties and start
spanking you right now?"

Tommy gulped.  "I was just asking," he mumbled.  "You don't
have to spank me -- I'll do what you say."  

"Good," Naomi said.  "So let's get started on our yang
project."  She stood up.  "Of course, you'll be doing
something entirely different from the girls, reflecting the
male/female opposition.  I'm calling your project "Shame of
Boyhood."  Let's get into the studio."  She nudged Tommy to
his feet and pushed him ahead of her, out the door and down
the hall.  Tommy's head was swimming.  "Shame of Boyhood?" 
That didn't sound good.  That sounded disturbing and
humiliating, that's how it sounded.  So did the reference to
photorealistic nude pictures of him.  What if someone he
knew saw them!  

He cleared his throat.  "The shame of boyhood?"  He asked. 
"I don't get it."

"That's because you're a boy," she said dismissively over
her shoulder.  "You boys have never gotten it.  You think
you're kings of the world!  But that's just because of your
weakness.  Because you boys are all weak, you know.  Weaker
than us girls by far.  You're weak, and you're full of shame
because you're weak!  You don't live as long as girls do,
you're more susceptible stress, you're more susceptible to
disease, and you're more vulnerable to damage."  She turned
to face him in the middle the hallway, pointing at his
crotch with the flyswatter.  "Let's just start with the
basic difference between boys and girls, those ugly little
things you've got hanging between your legs!  They stick
out, they're in the way, you catch them in your zippers, and
those little marbles you're so proud of hanging in that bag
between your legs are so sensitive that the slightest little
tap and you're in agony!"

Tommy blushed a bit, at her blatant reference to what he had
in his pants, as well as a humiliation of her calling what
he'd considered a pair of decent-sized balls "little
marbles."  They weren't so little!  They were a lot bigger
than Chad's or Gabriel's!  Naomi went on.  "And think of all
the shameful things you guys can't help doing!  From the
moment you're born, you poop and pee all over yourselves,
and who has to clean you up?  Girls!"

"Girls poop and pee on themselves when they're babies, too,"
Tommy said defensively.  "And they're a lot messier because
you pee out of your slits and it gets all over you."

"So it washes us off – you boys just sit there and soak in
your poop.  And we don't do it for as long as boys do!" 
Naomi said.  "Just go into any preschool, and you'll still
find boys who all as old as three or even almost four, still
in diapers, still being undressed by girls and having her
poopy butts wiped clean!  Still having to stand here with
all their boy stuff hanging out, while the females with
better control tend to them.  All the girls are trained, but
half the boys still have no control over their excretions."

She made a face.  "And even after they're trained, boys poop
and pee their pants by accident a lot, even school age boys. 
Why, I'd bet you even money that you've pooped or peed
yourself in school at least once!"

Tommy's immediate flush of guilt confirmed her speculation. 
"Ha!  Thought so," Naomi said.  "And you probably know other
boys who've pooped or peed themselves in class, too!  How
many girls do you know who've done that?"  Tommy's thoughts
immediately went to Chad, whose troubles had all started
when he'd peed on the teacher while being underpants
spanked.  Could he think of any girls who'd peed themselves
in school?  There must have been some!  He racked his brain,
hoping for a memory he could use as a rejoinder.  He
couldn't think of a single girl who'd dirtied her pants
since kindergarten.

Naomi went on.  "And what about bad wetting?  Boys wet the
bed for years after girls have long since quit!  It's boys
who get up in the morning with wet pajamas clinging to their
crotches, surrounded by a sopping wet spot on the bed, and
have to beg their mothers or their sisters to help them
clean up, to wash the stink off of them and make them
respectable again!  It's boys who have to stand in the
bathroom butt naked, while their mothers and sisters soap
their crotches and their disgusting boy parts because they
lacked the self-control to avoid something as simple as
peeing all over themselves at night!  And even after you
guys are half way night trained, you miss the toilet half
the time when you pee and end up peeing all over the floor
or the sides of the toilet or the walls instead!"

Tommy, starting to blush, looked at the floor.  He'd
certainly done all of those things.  He could still remember
standing naked in the bathroom beside Chad as old as age
six, as his mother took a soapy washcloth and applied it to
first one and then the other set of genitals, all the time
expressing disappointment that they were both still peeing
the bed every night, making more work for her.  At the time,
he'd taken solace in the fact that Chad was older and still
doing it.  He even remembered Beth standing beside them
looking superior as they had to submit to having your bare
genitals washed.

"You know what else?" she asked.  "I bet you used to pee in
the bathtub, and not that many years ago.  You probably told
yourself that the soap in the water made it not matter." She
fixed Tommy with a stare.  The increased reddening of
Tommy's face caused her to nod to herself.  "Thought so,"
she said.  "Bet you still pee in the shower, too," she
added.  "All you guys do.  Believe me, I know all your dirty
little secrets!"

"And just look at the state of you guy's underpants!" she
added.  "My sisters can wear a pair of panties all day, and
you can still take them off and eat off of the backs of
them!  You boys leave skid marks more often than not, and
then you hide your underpants in the bottom the laundry
basket, as if that way no one would ever see the shameful
mess you've made!"  She added.

Tommy looked up at her sharply.  "I don't get poop in my
underpants," he said.  "I always wipe myself really good! 
And I wash back there all the time!"

"Then you must be the only boy who does!"  She said.  "But
let's move on.  What about when you guys get excited!  Your
little poles stand up and show everybody what you're
thinking!  Just like yours did a few minutes ago you were
looking at pictures of my sisters!  Anyone looking you can
tell you're excited -- your thoughts are obvious to anyone
who cares to look, and the shame of that should be apparent
even to a dim bulb like you!  Anybody who wants to look at
you can tell the size and the hardness of your little dicks,
any time that we want! If that doesn't make you feel
ashamed, it should!" 

Tommy looked at the floor again, blushing harder.  Her last
comments had really stung, because the truth was that his
erections did make him ashamed, especially the ones he kept
getting when boys were involved.  As if she was reading his
mind, Naomi launched into a new topic.  "And half of you are
gay for each other, and a lot of you follow through on it by
groping each other's his little dicks, or sucking each other
off, or even taking each other up your dirty little butts! 
All because you need to get off!  I bet you've done some of
those things yourself, with your dirty little friends!"  She
reached down and grabbed Tommy by the chin, raising his face
so she could look in his eyes.  "You have, haven't you! 
You've fooled around with other boys, let them touch your
dick.  Or maybe even more!  Tell me, Tommy, have you ever
had a boy's dick in your mouth?  Sucked him until he came? 
Swallow that disgusting snot you guys squirt out?"

Tommy's look was enough to confirm her questions.  "I
thought so," she said.  "How about taking a boy up his butt
– I bet you did that, too!  Stuck your dick up some little
boy's dirty, poopy butt hole!  Talk about disgusting!"

Tommy was flooded with shock.  How could she know what he'd
done?  Suddenly he realized the answer.  He looked up, angry
and defiant now.  "Beth told you," he said.  "You didn't
guess – Beth told you why I was being punished."

"Okay, so you're not as big a fool as you first appeared,"
Naomi said lightly.  "But you're still a little butt-fucker
and cock-sucker, and you should be ashamed of both things."

Tommy took a lost shot at defiance, at standing up against
this withering onslaught.  "Girls suck boys' dicks, too," he
said.  "A girl sucked my brother's dick and even my little
cousin's dick Saturday night.  Swallowed his stuff, too!" 
He glared at her, red-faced but determined.

"Big deal.  If she wanted to do it, good for her!  That's
different from making someone do it!  Most guys try to make
their girls do it!  You want to invade girls with those
things of yours!  You want to batter your way into her body
whether she wants you there or not!  The stupid thing is
designed to invade, to go where it isn't wanted.  And you
don't just stick it in – you stick it in, then pull it out
and stick it in again, over and over, so you can
continuously re-invade a girl.  It's all about your pleasure
for you guys – you don't give a thought to how the girl
feels, being split apart with that thing!"

She took a deep breath.  "That's why I only have sex with
other girls," she said.  "Girls don't invade, and the focus
is on giving each other pleasure, not just taking it for
ourselves."

"But men and women are supposed to have sex," Tommy
protested.  "It's how we're made!"

"Nonesense," Naomi said dismissively.  "We don't even need
you shameful, disgusting creatures!  All you are is sperm
donors!  Girls make the babies.  Girls are the only reason
the human race goes on.  You boys are all right in your
place – you're kind of decorative, and rather nice to hold,
I'll admit.  But we don't need your cocks invading us all
the time.  We don't need them at all.  If a girl wants you,
invites you to enter her, more power to her, but it should
be on her terms.  The most important thing is that she enjoy
it.  But do you boys realize that?  No, you swagger around
like you're kings of the world – like the selfish, dirty,
disgusting creatures you are.  And that includes you! 
You're a disgusting dirty little boy, just like all the
others.  And you'll grow into a disgusting dirty man, just
like all the others!  That's what I mean by the shame of
boyhood!"

Tommy, defeated and stung by her summarization of the
character of his entire sex, looked at the floor.  Were boys
really as bad as all that?  True, he did have the most
disgusting urges sometimes, such as when he'd pooped on the
neighbor's step and gotten away with it – had actually
gotten his output blamed on a dog.  And he'd developed
strong remorse over his accidental butt-raping of Gabriel –
he flushed with shame just thinking about it.  It bothered
him even more that he'd wanted to hurt Jesse at the time –
Jesse, who'd always been his dearest and most loyal friend. 
Yet the most awful urges came over him!  Like those powerful
urges he'd been having to do things to other boys – right
now, just the thought of watching Jesse shuck out of his
underwear a few weeks ago and stand proudly naked in front
of him and his brother Chad, and of watching Chad
reluctantly get on his knees and take his friend's dick in
his mouth and make him cum made shivers run down Tommy's
spine.  Naomi was right -- he was disgusting!  He was vile,
low animal, a creature interested in its own pleasure. 
Hadn't he invaded Gabriel's butt, just like Naomi said boys
do all the time?  Was he concerned about what Gabriel wanted
when he did?  All he'd been thinking about when fucking
Gabriel's butt was what his dick felt like in there, and how
badly he needed to cum.  

And what about his brother Chad?  He'd had so much fun
lording his superior position over Chad during his brother's
punishment period.  He remembered the glee with which he'd
forced Chad over his lap and spanked his butt, actually
feeling powerful and superior when he made Chad cry.  He
remembered his fascination with making Chad sit on the peg
chair, watching Chad's face as the peg impaled him,
stretching his hole painfully.  An image flashed by of Chad
hanging from the closet clothes rod, waiting in terror as
he'd gleefully lined his finger up with each of Chad's balls
and flicked them as hard as he could.  He'd gotten a hard-on
then, he realized – he'd been massively excited at violating
his brother that way.  And speaking of violations, he'd
reamed Chad's butt out with his finger, hadn't he?  Not just
once, but several times in the bath, and even in their room. 
And made Chad suck him over and over again – invaded Chad's
body with his dick, enjoying that he could make Chad take
it.  

And so were the other boys he knew.  Chad, whose explosive
temper had eventually resulted in him having to he'd run the
gauntlet at school.  Jesse, who'd started this whole thing
by messing with Tommy's bare butt and genitals while he was
half asleep and too out of it to protest.  Alan, who'd
masturbated his brother and himself in the school infirmary
and gotten caught.  The list went on and on.  He felt like
crying.

Naomi, noting with smug satisfaction his increasing
dejection, went on.  "And let's talk about discipline," she
said.  "Who gets in trouble all the time?  Boys.  And who
has to correct them?  Girls.  It's mothers who have to pull
down little boys' dirty underpants and bend them over and
smack their stinky bottoms to get them to behave!  How many
girls have you ever seen get spanked, and how many boys?  I
bet it's only girls!"

Tommy remembered watching Chandra, Alan's cousin, get
spanked, among other punishments, just a few weeks ago.  But
he didn't say anything – the lump in his throat made talking
difficult.  Besides, thinking about that night made him
think about Alan, Chad's newest friend.  Alan, standing
stark naked with his hands behind his head, his long thin
penis intriguingly different from Chad's as well as Tommy's
own.  Alan with an erection, that penis now curving toward
his belly, throbbing with his heartbeat.  The image of Alan
and Chad lying face to crotch, sucking each other
simultaneously, pulling out each time one of them came to
reduce the enjoyment of the punishment.  He'd loved watching
that at the time, he'd realized – had an erection as hard
and throbbing as the one he had now.  He'd even had even
pictured being Chad and having to suck Alan while
masturbating alone in his bed.  In his fantasy, Alan had
failed to pull out, had cum in his mouth, and Tommy had
pictured having to swallow it, causing a pleasurable shiver
that had made him ejaculate hard enough that his output
cleared the tip of his penis and arched over to land on his
belly.  God, he was perverted.  And Chad appeared to be
perverted too, and Alan.  And Jesse, of course.  Jesse,
who'd humped Chad's mouth with glee along with him, and
who'd started this whole thing by gradually working his way
down Tommy's butt under the guise of massaging him until
he'd finally ended up handling Tommy's genitals?  And
Gabriel, who'd fucked Tommy's own butt last night with such
glee while Chad had restrained him?

"Some boys like being spanked and paddled, you know," Naomi
was saying.  "They even get into trouble deliberately so
their moms and sisters will spank them.  They get hard when
they're getting spanked, even shoot their stuff sometimes. 
Maybe you're one of them.  Maybe you get hard when you get
spanked!"

Tommy reddened further and looked more resolutely at the
floor.  He'd gotten hard repeatedly when being spanked.  Of
course, he'd gotten soft when being spanked too.  Did that
mean anything?  Which was really him?

Naomi turned abruptly and continued down the hall, leaving
Tommy no choice but to trudge after her, head down and
blushing with shame.  He was still trying to grasp what Beth
had gotten him into when they emerged into a large room full
of light, with huge skylights in the ceiling, a room taking
up most of the entire rest of the floor.  Worktables,
stools, chairs, benches, and various props were scattered
everywhere, as were sculpture projects in various states of
construction.  The walls were covered with sketches and
paintings in various states of completion.  Many were of
children and adolescents of various ages, including more
pictures of the two girls.  Some were nude or only partially
clothed, and many were explicit, and not just pictures of
the girls.  Tommy spotted a realistic painting of a boy of
maybe 8, face downcast in a look of shame, facing the
artist, the crotch of his blue jeans soaked and dark blue, a
realistic yellow-tinged puddle next to a stocking-clad, also
soaked foot.  Naomi caught his glance.  "Too young," she
said.  "Not enough shame there.  Now with a boy your age, it
would be better – more powerful."

Tommy looked away, but his eyes immediately fell on a
drawing next to that of the shamed boy of the two girls that
almost made his eyes pop.  Both were stark naked like
before, but the older one was standing facing forward with
her legs proudly apart and a hand pushing her genitals up
and out from below, and a stream was arching from between
her pussy lips above her hand and out of the picture, while
the other girl watched admiringly.  Naomi grinned at him. 
"What, you thought girls couldn't do anything boys can do?"
she said mockingly.  "We can pee standing up any time we
want, just like you.  We just care more about the mess we
make."

God, girls peeing standing up?  Was that really possible? 
Tommy wondered.  He felt like he'd fallen into a different
universe.  He tore his eyes away, but there was no escape –
everywhere were reminders of proud girls and shamed boys.  A
partially completed statue of a boy, displaying his body
only from the naval downward, had captured the boy with his
fingers desperately pulling on a tiny, hard penis, the
little sausage looking pathetically small in even his small
hand, dwarfed by his baby-fat chubby thighs.  A small
tableau of three sculpted figures in clay sat on a work
bench, each figure about a foot tall.  A boy stood with his
pants and underpants at his knees, the barest button of a
penis peeking out of his crotch, while making two other
points of a triangle, pointing and laughing, were statures
of clothed girls looking at his tiny, pathetic phallus and
covering their faces with their free hands to suppress their
reaction.  On the wall next to it, a drawing of a boy in
briefs, just the torso, age unclear, but his tiny tool
clearly tenting his undies, yet looking pathetically small.
A complete and realistic painting next to it of a medium
sized boy crying softly over a feminine lap, the younger
sister caught in mid blow applying the next firm smack to
his tensed posterior.  His posterior showed a couple of
clear pink handprints, and the fact that his face bore only
a trickle of tears suggested the spanking had just begun. 
Tacked to the edge of that picture, the face, just the face,
of the same boy, now bawling at the top of his lungs, eyes
wild and puffy and snot smearing his face.  He reminded
Tommy of how Chad had looked after his family paddling. 
Tommy was frozen, unable to turn away from the drawings. 
Finally, Naomi took him by the hand to center of the room,
an open area sporting a small three legged stool.  "Sit down
there a moment," she said to him.  "Let me look at you."

Tommy settled gingerly on the stool, his behind still
hurting considerably from the spankings he'd gotten, the
butt-fucking Gabriel had given him, and the invasion and
subsequent expelling of the carrot.  Naomi walked around him
from all angles, studying him for an extensive period of
time.  "Sit up straight," she suddenly barked at him.  Tommy
tried to sit straighter.  The angle hurt the bruises on his
bottom.  The girl continued to study him.  "Beth said you
got spanked and paddled yesterday.  Still blistered?"

Tommy nodded, his face reddening.  Naomi leaned over his
back, pulled out the waist band of his pants and underpants,
and studied the visible part of his bare butt, nodding to
herself.  Tommy, meanwhile, was caught up in a web of
memory.  He didn't like to think about yesterday.  Yesterday
had been a revelation to him in many ways.  He hadn't
realized there was so much more to being spanked than just
the pain.  When Chad had been spanked repeatedly for a week,
with Tommy providing several of the spankings himself, Tommy
had naturally assumed that the pain was the worst part of it
all for Chad.  He hadn't realized what a large role the
humiliation played in the process.  Pulling off his shirt,
unbuttoning his pants, feeling the cool air on his naked
buttocks and genitals when everyone else was clothed, other
kids watching him with open interest or contempt.  Having to
let them look at all your private places, places you'd kept
hidden since you were a little boy.  Even from your mom. 
Wondering what they were thinking as they sized up your
genitals, the boys making comparisons to what they had in
their own pants hidden away, the girls thinking God knows
what as they looked at the odd protuberances that boys
sported.  Having folks look at your butt hole -- your butt
hole!  The dirty, disgusting part of your body, a place out
of your line of sight, a place he was never sure was quite
clean, even after he washed it.  After all, poop came out of
there, dirty disgusting poop!  And even if it was clean,
he'd seen it in the mirror himself, and it certainly wasn't
pretty! And being surrounded by Girl Scouts while all this
was going on – girls his own age!

And the looking was just the beginning of it.  Because once
he was undressed, he'd had his arms bound, and then he'd
been forced to go voluntarily over his younger cousin's lap. 
He'd actually had to walk over and drape himself butt up
over his cousin's knees!  He'd felt the eyes upon him as
he'd walked on shaking legs like a man walking to his
execution, only their eyes were on his genitals, not on his
face, as they swayed back and forth as he walked, feeling
peculiar in the cool air.  Then had come the process of
getting into position -- into the position of subordinate to
the younger boy -- the position that said that his butt,
this secret part of his body, was his younger cousin's
property, to do with as he saw fit.  To make sting and burn
as much as he desired, until he'd gotten tired of hurting
Tommy.  Going down, across his younger cousin's lap, going
across his lap to get spanked!  To get spanked on his round
little bottom, to get spanked out in the open, where
everybody could see!  Spanked bare, because with a little
boy it didn't matter who saw his genitals, who saw his butt,
who saw his butt hole!  It only mattered that he be taught a
lesson, a public lesson of pain and humiliation.  A lesson
that said, you are nothing but a little boy, a contemptible
little boy who deserves a little boy punishment!  We're
going to make you get into this position and stay there, and
we're going to smack your little bottom with an open hand,
or with a big wooden paddle, or with whatever we choose, for
as long as we choose, and you have to lie there and take it
because you are just a little boy!  The aim of the
punishment to make him cry, cry publicly, loudly, and
uncontrollably!  Cry, because his little bottom hurt, hurt
so bad he couldn't stand it, hurt so bad he had to abandon
all dignity, all claims to being a big boy!

Tommy hadn't realized before he got into position across
Gabriel's lap just how humiliating the experience was going
to be.  It wasn't just being naked in front of his relatives
and a group of Girl Scouts, not to mention Mr. and Mrs.
Winston.  It wasn't just being spanked on his bottom like a
little boy, spanked so hard that he cried, cried and begged
and pleaded and kicked with abandon.  No, it wasn't just the
process of getting naked and getting spanked itself.  It was
all the steps before hand, knowing the spanking was coming,
knowing the humiliation and nudity was coming, knowing you
were going to have to go through it.  It was having to stand
up afterward, stand up and let everyone see your face, after
they've seen you cry like a little boy while you got your
butt beat!  Letting everyone see your face, and all those
other girls and boys sporting that superior look that said,
you just got spanked in front of us on your bare bottom! 
You just got spanked, and we saw all your wiener and your
nuts and your butt in your butt hole and everything, and
will be able to remember seeing them for the rest of our
lives.  And we all saw you get spanked, saw you in the most
humiliating position a little boy ever can be in.  Stripped
of all dignity, privates on display, blubbering, while his
bare butt was slowly and surely set on fire by a little kid
several years younger than him.  It was the knowledge that
he would see in the faces of all the people who'd seen him
get spanked yesterday, the look that would say, yes, I was
there!  I saw you, all of you, in the most humiliating
circumstance a boy could be in.  And I'll remember.  Tommy
shuddered just thinking about it.

"Lose the shirt," Naomi suddenly said, snapping Tommy out of
his reverie.  Tommy remembering Beth's admonition to behave,
pulled the shirt over his head and set holding it in his
lap, his thin chest exposed in the cool air.  "Stand up,"
the girl said.  "Put one leg up on the chair and lean on it
like you're thinking."  Tommy complied, and she stared at
him a while longer.  "Now lean back and flex," she said. 
Tommy, feeling ridiculous, flexed his boyish muscles.  He
flushed when he realized how weak and pathetic his arms
looked in that position.  Naomi smiled, her smile almost a
smirk.  "Now you're getting it," she said.  "Your build says
pathetic loser all over it.  And when you try to show off
like that, it makes it even more pathetic looking."

Tommy dropped his arms to his sides, staring down at his
thin chest.  He'd always thought he looked rather good, but
seeing himself through her eyes he felt small and pathetic. 
The girl kept studying him from all angles, like he was a
side of beef and she a butcher with knife in hand looking
for where to cut first.  "Lose the pants," she finally
ordered.  "But keep the underpants on."

"Look..." Tommy said, hesitating.  "Are you sure it's me you
want?  Wouldn't an older boy, like my brother..."  

"I said, lose the pants!"  The girl snapped.  "I was
promised it would be completely obedient! Don't think I
can't make you cry!  Did you see the picture of that boy
screaming, right next to the one my sister spanking him? 
She did that to him – a little girl!  I'm lots bigger and
stronger, and I can hit your butt a lot harder – do you want
to try me:"

Tommy still hesitated.  "You're gonna spank me anyway," he
muttered to the ground.

"What? Speak up, I can't hear you when you talk to the
floor," Naomi snapped.

Tommy looked up and met her eye defiantly.  "You're going to
do it anyway.  Spank me, that is.  Whether I obey or not. 
You're going to make me do all those things you said, aren't
you, so you can take your pictures or make your sketches or
do whatever you do with your models.  Then you're going to
paint your pictures and make your sculptures, and put them
on display somewhere so everyone can look at me bare naked
looking like a pathetic loser.  You'll do all that stuff
whether I do what you say or not, won't you?  So what
difference does it make if I obey willingly or you make me?"

Naomi met his gaze steadily.  "You know nothing, little
boy," she said evenly.  "First of all, I'm an artist – a
very, very good artist. I can paint people so realistically
that you'd swear it was a photograph you were looking at –
you've already seen that in some of the pictures of my
sisters I've finished.  I can make the pictures so realistic
that everyone who sees them will know that it's Tommy Lame-
ass who's in them, Tommy Lame-ass who's being humiliated and
shamed.  So realistic that total strangers would see you and
immediately know you were the model, and also know just what
the pathetic contents of your underpants look like.  Or I
could make you look different – change your hair color and
style, alter your cheek bones and eyes a bit, make your
mouth a different shape, and even your own mother wouldn't
know you were the model unless she knows your nether regions
well.  Those I'll still paint realistically, of course,
because it's important to me that you know that everyone who
sees the pictures I paint will be seeing you in all your
inadequate glory.  The shame you'll feel today doing the
thing I'm going to make you do will be much greater because
you'll know each detail will be depicted accurately for
people to see, and that additional shame will show up on
your face, your expression, your demeanor. And I'll capture
that – it'll be there in my work.  So I'll get every wrinkle
of your little bag down perfectly, and every vein in your
little dangler, too.  If you've got a protruding hemorrhoid,
I'll get that, too, in perfect detail.  It's that realism
that makes my pictures seem more real than life itself."

That's why the girl had the pimple, Tommy thought.  He
realized it had been bothering him – why mar the perfection
of her buttocks with a pimple so vivid it looked like it
would pop if you touched it.  But the pimple made it
authentic – it screamed to the  viewer, I've done nothing to
sugar coat this – this is life!

Something else she'd said struck him.  "What's a
hemorrhoid?" he asked.

"God, kid, don't you know anything?   It's a vein in your
butt hole that has ruptured and bulges out.  Mostly they're
inside your butt, but sometimes they stick out your butt
hole or they're on the surface of the hole itself, making a
big bulge.  They're pretty gross-looking then.  You can get
them from straining too hard trying to shit," she said,
smirking at him.  "But back to what I was saying.  I can
choose to make your face recognizable to all or not – it's
up to me.  So it does matter how cooperative you are."

She took a deep breath while Tommy tried to take this in. 
"And as far as your statement that I'm going to spank you
anyway, or rather have my sisters do it, I probably am,
although you never know – I'm very creative, and I like to
go for the unexpected.  But even if I do turn one or both of
them loose on your butt, there are spankings, and then there
are spankings.  So tell me, Tommy-boy.  What kind of
spankings do you want to get this afternoon?"