Tommy's Attitude Adjustment Chapter 35
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 35:  Tommy Makes a Good Impression – or Several

She turned her head as Tommy's head snapped up again. 
Girls? Major humiliation? With a sinking heart, he realized
there could only be one meaning to her words.  Her sisters. 
And probably some of the activities she'd already shown him
she'd done with the younger boy, if not all of them.  He
hoped not all of them.  Naomi was already calling. 
"Melissa,  Zandra!  Our new model's ready!"

A sound of running footsteps as Naomi stalked to the work
table and grabbed up a sketch pad and pencil.  As she began
rapidly sketching Tommy on a pad, the two girls burst into
the room and skidded to a stop in front of him.  They were
obviously the two in the pictures, currently dressed in
ordinary white t-shirts and cut-offs, their hair flowing
behind them in pony tails.  The older girl, obviously
Zandra, was slightly shorter than Tommy, the younger girl
several inches shorter.  They both burst into excited smiles
at seeing him.

"You got an older one!" Melissa burst out.  "What is he,
11?"

"He's 12, I think," Naomi muttered, still sketching.  "But I
believe he's our boy for the bulk of the exhibit.  He has a
name, but there's no reason for you to get on a personal
basis with him, so it doesn't really matter what his name is
– just call him 'boy.'  He's the only one of their kind
here, so it shouldn't confuse him."  She nodded toward the
bench.  "Zandra, get the camera and capture this little
piece from all angles while his clothes are still on." 
Tommy's worries increased at her wording.  But before he
could consider it much, she pointed a pencil at him.  "You,
boy!"  She flipped the paper over to get a new page and
sketched again.  "Thrust for me," she said.  "Put your hands
on your butt and thrust your crotch out."

Humiliated, Tommy complied, feeling ridiculous with
midsection thrust forward, his genitals making a bulge that
was clearly visible even fully clothed.  He wasn't hard, but
he remembered what she'd said about everyone always being
able to see boys' genitals.  He risked a quick glance
around.  Sure enough, the younger girl's eyes were glued to
his crotch, weighing, sizing him up.  The older girl was
moving from spot to spot with a digital camera, snapping
pictures of him by the dozen from all angles.  The younger
one was watching him, licking her lips specutively.  Naomi
put down her sketch pad and retrieved something from a work
table.  "I almost forgot these," she said, showing him two
small pills.  "Put these in your mouth," she said.  She
handed him a water bottle.  "And then swallow them."

"What are they?" Tommy asked.

"Stupid pills," she said.  "I give them to stupid people,
which you obviously are for questioning me when you know
what'll happen if you do.  Now swallow them, and drink the
rest of the water when you do."

Tommy, mindful of her earlier threat, swallowed the pills in
a gulp.  He looked at the still Ύ full bottle.  "Do I have
to drink all of it?" he asked.  "I'm kinda full right now."

"What you mean is, you already have to pee and you don't
want to drink water and make it worse," Naomi replied,
getting twin giggles from her sisters.  "Let me point out
that in this room, what penis people want doesn't count. 
And as we've already established that you're a penis person,
however marginally, that means your wants don't enter into
it, and I don't expect to hear anything more from you about
them, unless you want really, really bad and painful things
to happen to your body, including the aforementioned penis. 
Now drink the water, all of it.  Don't worry, you'll get
your chance to go pee-pee soon, little boy."  The two
younger girls giggled at their sister's reference to Tommy
as a "penis person, however nominally," and giggled again
when she noted he'd have a chance to go pee-pee soon. 

The older one resumed her picture taking as Tommy forced
himself to down the rest of the water.  He did have to pee,
no question about it – he was going to have to pee real bad
pretty soon.  He tried to think of a way of saying that
without talking about his wants.  Perhaps if he waited and
held it, Naomi would offer him a bathroom break
spontaneously – alone, hopefully.  He stood uncomfortably
waiting for the sketching and picture taking of his clothed
body to stop.

Finally, Naomi stopped her furious sketching and regarded
her pad.  "Not bad," she said.  "I think I've captured the
little boy all you guys have inside of you."  She turned the
pad around, so that Tommy could see her work.  The charcoal
sketch she'd made was surprisingly good – realistic down to
his eyelashes and fingernails, it showed him standing with
hands on his butt, thrusting his hips out toward the viewer. 
The lump in the front of his shorts looked smaller, somehow,
than it normally appeared to Tommy, and his face –

Well, it looked like him, and yet it didn't.  The eyes were
all Tommy – it was like looking in the mirror.  The
cheekbones were not – they were more rounded than his, wider
and more boyish.  His face was rounder, too.  His eyes were
downcast, as if he was examining his thrust out package from
above.  His face was in an odd expression that was hard to
read at first.  There was hope in it, and a bit of pride –
it might even have been a smirk.  That's what he saw to
start with.  As he studied the face on the pad, though, he
realized that first impression was mistaken.  The smirk was
clearly a faηade – underneath it, there was something
darker, something fearful and cowering, like -- like an
animal.  Like a small dog that cowers under your command and
then barks at you from under the safety of a chair.  An
cowering dog – a dog that slinks around and snatches crumbs
others leave behind.  

Tommy looked away from the drawing.  He really did have to
pee, and it was becoming urgent.  "Uh, can I go to the
bathroom?" he asked tentatively, being as polite as
possible, wary of her remark about not wanting to know about
his wants.

"Sure," the older girl, Zandra, said, smirking at him
knowingly as she lowered the camera she was holding.  "Any
time you want."

Tommy looked around.  "Uh, where is it?" he ventured.  He
looked around, but didn't seen any promising doors.  Perhaps
it was down the hallway.

"Oh, you meant 'go the bathroom,' itself, as in a particular
place!  I thought you meant, 'go to the bathroom,' as in,
'can I pee?'" Zandra continued.

Tommy's urge was more pronounced now that he was thinking
about it.  He could feel the burning at his urinary
sphincter that always came when he had to go bad and his
body wanted and expected it to happen right now.  He knew
from experience that it was hard to hold it when he got to
that point.  Unconsciously, he began shifting his weight
from foot to foot, a muted caricature of the "little boy has
to pee" dance.

"It's the same thing," he snapped impatiently.  "I gotta
pee, okay?  Now can you tell me where the bathroom is?"

"No," Zandra said.

Tommy, even more desperate to pee now, looked at her
dumbfounded.  "You don't know where the bathroom is?" he
asked.

"Oh, I know," she said.  "I just can't tell you.  Naomi told
me not to.  Besides, it's locked so you can't get in it
anyway, even if you go looking for it."

"But I gotta pee bad!" Tommy said, now visibly hopping from
foot to foot, fighting the urge to grab his dick through his
shorts.

"What my sister is trying to say," Naomi said, "is that you
can pee, but you can't use the bathroom.  Because the first
shameful thing I need you to do is pee your pants.  Nothing
puts a boy in his place more firmly than the humiliation of
peeing his pants.  The only thing worse is pooping them.  It
illustrates your lack of control, it emphasizes your
internal immaturity, and it encompasses all that is boy! 
Because, you see, peeing your pants reverts you back to your
days as a little boy, trying to please Mommy, but ultimately
failing because you're too inadequate, too immature.  It's
something that all boys are whether they're 3 or 83.  You
just need reminding.  Also, there's a kind of primitive,
primal pleasure to it for you guys – almost sexual in
nature.  It's marking your territory, something you guys
like to do all the time when you're out where no female is
watching you.  You pee off bridges, pee on walls, pee on
bushes and trees, you're just like a pack of dogs."  Tommy
stiffened reminded of his dog performance of that morning.

"Of course, this is a little different, because you're
peeing yourself.  That makes it much more delicious.  You're
satisfying this primal urge, but in a way that shames you. 
It feels good – not just letting it out, but the moist heat
of it against your skin, flowing down your leg, soaking your
sock."  Naomi looked at Tommy's feet in sudden
consternation.  "Oh, shit, I should have had you keep on
your socks.  Quick, Melissa – get his socks back on him!" 
She glared at Tommy.  "You, boy!  Lift your feet and help
her put them on you.  Don't you dare pee yourself until
you've got them both on!"

Tommy crossed his arms in front of him.  "Not going to pee
myself," he muttered.

"What did you say?" Naomi said, stepping closer.  

"Not going to pee myself," Tommy said.  "Now let me go to
the bathroom!"

Naomi set her pad down on the stool, moving until her face
was 6 inches from Tommy's.  Tommy stepped back a bit.  By
his feet, Melissa protested.  "Hey, hold still – I'm trying
to get this stupid sock on him!"  Naomi ignored her and
glared at Tommy.

"You will do as I say.  You will do everything I say.  Or I
will strip you naked this minute right in front of the girls
and make your submit to the worst bare-butt paddling you can
possibly imagine!  Then I'll paddle your little sack for
awhile for good measure.  Then I'll make you do what I say,
anyway!  Is that clear?"  She grabbed Tommy's hair for
emphasis and yanked his head back so he was looking up at
her.

"Owwwww!  Yeah, yeah, it's clear!" Tommy said.  He felt a
spurt of wetness as he lost control momentarily and jetted a
small squirt of pee into his pants.  It quickly soaked into
his underwear in front of his penis tip. 

"Are you going to pee your pants like a good boy once
Melissa's got your socks on?" Naomi added.  She gave his
hair a harder yank.

"Owwwww!  Yes!  Yes! I'll do it!" Tommy wailed.  Despite his
efforts, he lost control again for a moment and jetted a
second little squirt into his undies.  A spot immediately
appeared on the surface of his pants at the lower part of
his crotch bulge.

"Hey, he's got a wet spot already!" Zandra said, pointing at
Tommy's crotch.  "Better hurry up, Lissa!"

"Hold still, brat!  Let her finish!" Naomi said, still
holding Tommy's hair.  Tommy stood frozen, his face coloring
with shame, as Melissa finished pulling up his right sock
and then slipped the left sock onto his foot and pulled it
up, scrambling to her feet.  He'd peed himself already, and
he was barely holding on from letting it all go!  He'd made
fun of Chad when Chad had been undergoing pee training, and
was having such trouble holding it standing in the corner,
but now he'd peed himself in fright, and it wasn't funny
anymore.  And he was moments away from peeing himself but
good!  Naomi released his hair and stepped back, as he
immediately looked down at his crotch, seeing the tell-tail
wet circle right where it was obvious the tip of his dick
was.  

"Okay, boy – go ahead and pee yourself," Naomi said.

"You know you want to," Zandra added, smirking.

"It would feel really good," Melissa added.  "Just let it
go."

Tommy desperately kept his sphincter clamped shut, wishing
he could reach for his penis and squeeze it shut, like Chad
had been forced to do in the corner when Tommy himself
wouldn't let Chad pee.  He recommenced the pee-pee dance.

"Don't have all day," Naomi said, looking up from sketching
his anxious demeanor.  "You know you're going to do it,
anyway --  might as well let it go – you'll feel much
better."

"Yeah," Zandra opined.  "Just think of relaxing, letting the
nice, hot pee flow out of you.  You can feel it against your
boy parts, soaking your pants, running down your leg and
making your sock nice and warm…"

Tommy let out a little moan – he could picture it way too
vividly.  And along with that, he could picture the relief
of letting his sphincter relax, letting all that liquid
urgency out of him.  Beside him, Zandra was snapping
multiple shots of his facial expressions as he fought his
body.

In moments, the struggle was over inside of Tommy.  His last
effort at holding on failed, and hot liquid surged into the
cloth of his underpants and pants, quickly pooling in the
genital pouch of his undies in front, soaking his genitals
and overflowing the small pouch until it poured in a river
out of his crotch seam and down his left legs, immediately
soaking his sock with its heat and then saturating it, too,
until a puddle appeared and grew beside the instep of his
left foot.  A trickle also seeped down the right leg,
wetting that sock as well but not overflowing onto the
floor.  Tommy felt powerful relief, but also hot wetness
over his entire crotch and soaking partway between his legs
and up between his buns as far as his butt hole.  Melissa
was watching him with fascination, Zandra snapping pictures
like mad of his crotch, his leg, his foot and the puddle on
the floor.  Naomi was  sketching, tearing pages, sketching
again.  Tommy flushed in total embarrassment, his spent
penis trying to crawl into his body in shame.  He had pee
all over him!  His pants and underpants were soaked – how
was he going to go home again!  He stared, humiliated, at
the puddle he'd made on the floor – he could even see his
glum expression reflecting in it!

Several long minutes went by.  Zandra stopped snapping
pictures and stood looking him up and down with a sardonic
expression.  Melissa engaged in periodic giggles, staring
first at his face, then at his crotch, then at the floor. 
Finally, Naomi stopped sketching and looked up.  She flipped
the pad over for them to see.

Zandra clapped her hands.  "Oh, that's him!  That's him to a
tee!" she exclaimed.

Tommy, still shamed, looked up enough to take in the
picture.  She'd captured him just in the act of finishing
wetting himself.  The puddle on the floor and his wet
clothing were clear in her shading, the outline of the penis
that had betrayed him small in her drawing but clearly
visible.  His face, as before was and wasn't him – he looked
younger, more vulnerable, and his expression – well, it
radiated little boy shame.  Even without the wet pants and
sock and the puddle on the floor, you could see in that face
that here was a boy who'd peed his pants, and was deeply
ashamed of it.  Not only that, but he clearly needed,
desired help – "I'm sorry, Mommy, I was a bad boy.  I need
you to clean me up," was clearly written on the face in the
drawing.  It intensified Tommy's shame.  He'd peed himself,
just like a little kid!  Right her in front of these girls! 
And now what was he going to do?"

As if she was a mind reader, Naomi spoke up.  "Now the girls
are going to clean you up," she said.  "We're going to move
over to the sink, and then they'll get those wet things off
of you and clean up your little dickie."

"NO!" Tommy immediately responded, stepping back.

It all happened so fast Tommy, later, had trouble putting it
all together.  He didn't even see Naomi move, but suddenly
her arm was around his chest pinning his own arms, and her
other hand was yanking the back of his pants and underpants
down to just below the curve of his butt, where they stuck
there, caught under the prominent curve of his buttocks and
held, also, by the fact his lower butt was wet.  The front
of his pants stayed mostly up, with just the barest hint of
the root of his penis visible.  Three loud cracks cut the
air as Naomi applied her strong, calloused hand to first his
left bun, then his right, then the pee damp lower center. 
Tommy yelped in surprise as his butt was suddenly a reawaked
mass of pain.  He bit his lip to choke off crying, as small
tears began seeping out of the corners of his eyes.  

"You want more right now, brat?" Naomi said.  "Or are you
willing to obey and put it off until later?"  She raised her
hand threateningly and Tommy cringed.

"No more!" he squeaked.  "Please, no more!"  The two other
girls were behind him now, eyeing his butt with interest. 
"Look, he's all blistered," Melissa exclaimed.  "He must
have been real bad!"

Naomi yanked Tommy's pants back up.  "Now get over there to
the sink," she ordered, giving him a push.  She turned to
her sisters.   "What did he do, you ask?  You know his
penis, that nasty thing boys have down there?" she said to
them.  The two nodded solemnly.  "He held a little boy down,
pulled down the boy's pants, and stuck his penis up the
boy's butt hole," she said.  "Then he pulled it in an out a
bunch of times to make himself feel good, and he hurt the
little boy and made him bleed from his butt hole while he
was doing it."

"At least he didn't try to do it to a girl," Zandra said. 
"That would be a lot worse."

"Granted," Naomi said.  "But he still got his butt beat for
it, as well he should.  That's why he's blistered, and why
we get him today to humiliate."  She picked up her pad and
the camera and turned and walked over to where Tommy was
standing, trembling, by the sink on the wall.  Her sisters
followed.  "Clean him up," she said to them.  "You know what
to do.  You, boy!  Obey them while they clean you, or else!" 
She snapped a picture of the sniffling Tommy standing by the
sink in his soaked clothes.  Zandra and Melissa approached
Tommy from opposite sides.  

"Okay, little boy," Zandra crooned.  "You made pee-pee in
your pants.  That was a naughty thing to do, and we're going
to have to clean you up now.  Let's get those wet things off
of you."  She approached Tommy from the right, as Melissa
approached from the left.  Naomi was alternately sketching
and snapping pictures.  From opposing sides, each girl
slipped a finger into Tommy's waistband and pulled his pants
away from his waist.  Tommy shuddered but held still, highly
distressed at this turn of events.  As one, both girls
lowered his pants, his white briefs first becoming visible,
then his bare legs.  The cloth of his underpants at his
crotch was so soaked that the cloth was almost translucent. 
Reaching his ankles, both girls hooked his socks as well and
pulled them down, too.  Zandra prodded the foot on her side
up and stripped the clothing off, followed by Melissa, who
prodded up his other foot and then shoved the wet things
gingerly to one side.  Tommy stood uncertainly, clad just in
his t-shirt and his peed underwear.  The two girls stood up
each looking across to the other and exchanging meaningful
looks.  They reached for his underpants waistband as one. 
Tommy backed away quickly.

"Now, now," Zandra said.  "You've got to let us clean you
up, little boy.  You don't want that nasty, smelly pee-pee
on you all day!  You'll get a rash on your little bum-bum!"

"And your little wee-wee," Melissa added.  Tommy backed
further, coming up short as his butt hit the sink.  

"Relax," Zandra said.  "We've see little boys without their
pants before!  We already know what you've got there, and it
obviously isn't that big a deal."

Tommy flushed even redder.  He could tell without looking
that his penis was in full retreat, hiding in his body and
looking its most unimpressive.  But he couldn't back away
any farther, and he remembered, suddenly, her threats to
spank him the way her father had spanked her.  Steeling
himself, he stepped away from the sink and stood still,
letting them each slip their fingers under his waistband on
either side.  Slowly, taking their time as if savoring the
outcome, the girls began lowering his underpants.  Tommy
could feel the now cool wetness dragging down his legs as
his left covering left, along with any remaining dignity he
might have had (which wasn't much after peeing his pants). 
As his underpants came down, the root of his shrunken penis
came into view above his shaved crotch.  As the process
continued, more and more of that organ came into view, until
finally the mushroom tip was exposed, and then under it, his
wrinkled ball sack.  The girls stopped at that point,
standing on either side of him staring at his genitals with
obvious delight.  "Good, he's not that big," Zandra
commented.  "I was afraid when you said he was 12 that he'd
be big."

Melissa giggled.  "You could see he wasn't big just by
looking at him," she said.  "His weenie bulge wasn't big at
all."

"Yeah, but he's smaller than I thought, even so," Zandra
added.  "And he doesn't have any hair, either!  You'd think
he would by now.  But it's probably just as well – it would
get in the way later!"

Later?  Tommy thought.  He looked down at his crotch.  His
dick and balls were almost in full retreat, almost as small
as when he'd been treated with ice earlier.

Zandra was eyeing his penis critically.  With her free hand,
she reached over and lifted it under the tip.  Tommy fought
the urge to flinch.  "It's kind of cute," she said.  "But it
isn't very big."  In response, Tommy's penis shrunk almost
instantly to be even smaller, so now only about an inch was
protruding straight out from his crotch.

"It's usually bigger," he muttered.

"Yeah, right," Zandra said.  "Every boy's weenie gets
smaller when girls handle it."

"I thought it got bigger," Melissa said seriously.

"It does, silly," Zandra said importantly.  "I was being
sarcastic."  She took her hand and chucked Tommy's penis
under the head several times, trying to get a reaction from
it.  To Tommy's consternation his penis became even smaller. 
"What's the matter, doesn't it want to come out and play?" 
she asked.

"Oooo, why are you touching it?" Melissa commented.  "You're
getting pee on you! That's where it just came out of, you
know!"  

Zandra dropped her and from his penis, wiping it on his
shirt.  "We'd better get these the rest of the way off of
him so we can wash him," she concluded.  Together, they
pulled Tommy's underpants all the way to the floor and made
him step out of them.  Tommy stood there in front of the
sink, shivering a little bit at the cool air on his wet
privates, legs, and feet.  His arms hung limply at his
sides, as he resisted the urge to cover his privates in
front of these girls.  He wished he didn't look so small all
of a sudden.  The shriveling of his genitals, coupled with
his total lack of pubic hair, made him look like a little
boy Gabriel's age.  The girls stood up.  "First we have to
wash you," Zandra said.  Melissa turned obediently to the
sink and turned on the water, soaking down a washcloth and
beginning to rub soap into it.  When she finally had a good
lather, she shut off the water and turned to Tommy holding
the soapy washcloth.

"Now hold still.  So I can wash your little wee-wee," she
said to Tommy in a high-pitched voice.  The cloth approached
Tommy's midsection.  Tommy steeled himself, then flinched
suddenly as the cloth enfolded his privates.  It was cold! 
Almost as cold as ice!  His genitals protested mightily as
the cold cloth circled them, moving his penis from side to
side and up and down as it went.  Melissa then began
scrubbing his ball sack, pushing his marbles first one side
and then the other as she did.

"Watch it!"  Tommy protested, grabbing the washcloth and her
hand with his own.  "You have to be careful with those!" 
Melissa stopped and the two girls looked at him skeptically. 
"Boy stuff is delicate," he said, almost apologetically.

"He's talking about his little balls," Zandra said
authoritatively.  "Boys are really touchy about them.  That
little guy we had in here two weeks ago, screamed bloody
murder when I gave his just a friendly little squeeze." 
Melissa nodded and went on washing Tommy's front,
progressing down his thighs down to his feet.  Once there,
she picked up his right foot and began washing the sole. 
Tommy yanked his foot away.

"Hey!" she said. "I wasn't done with that!"

"It tickled!"  Tommy said in protest.

From where she'd been furiously snapping pictures and
sketching, Naomi looked up.  "Hold still and let her wash
you," she said.  "Or I'll show them how boys act when their
little marbles are squeezed really hard rather than just a
little bit."  Tommy stepped back and gritted his teeth,
letting her finish washing his foot.

"Okay, I finished his front," Melissa said.  "Now you have
to do the butt!"

"You do the butt!"  Her sister said.

"I had to do the butt on the last boy," Melissa complained. 
"So it's your turn."  Showing reluctance, her sister took
the washcloth from her.

"Turn around and bend over," she ordered Tommy.  Flushing at
this new humiliation, Tommy turned around and bent slightly
at the waist, thrusting his butt out toward her marginally. 
Naomi reached over and pressed on his back, forcing his face
down until he was bent at a ninety degree angle and his butt
was completely spread.  The cloth felt like ice on his
crack, as Zandra immediately zeroed in on his butt hole and
began scrubbing.  She then moved out from there,
methodically scrubbing his flanks.  She ended by returning
to his crack and pushing the cloth against his butt hole
hard enough that she penetrated, her finger tip going
roughly into his butt.

"Hey!"  Tommy protested.

"Shut up!"  Naomi said.  "Do that again, Zandra.  I need to
take a picture of his face when you do.  And go deeper this
time -- he's probably used to the penetration of the last
time.  The older girl moved around so she was at Tommy's
front looking up into his face from the floor.  Tommy
grimaced as the washcloth shrouded finger rammed into his
butt from behind, this time twice as deeply.  He grunted in
pain.  Both girls began laughing, the convulsion of it
making Zandra's finger wiggle wildly in his butt before it
was finally removed.

"God, you'd have thought you showed your whole hand up there
the way he carried on!"  Melissa said.

"It hurt!"  Tommy complained.

"Enough!"  Naomi said.  "You peed yourself, don't complain
about having to get cleaned up, little boy!"

Tommy started to retort that it was their fault he peed
himself for not letting him go to the bathroom, but he
realized it would be fruitless to argue.  He stood with his
bottom half naked, shivering slightly as the evaporating
water cooled his underpants area.  

"Well, what are you just standing there for?"  Naomi
snapped.  "They aren't going to clean themselves!"

"What?" Tommy said, confused.

"Your clothes," Naomi said, pointing to the pee-soaked pile
of cloth near his feet.  "You do want something to wear
home, don't you?  I think it might be a bit cool to be
walking around in just a t-shirt."

Tommy looked at the pile of sopping wet clothing.  "What, am
I supposed to put them in a washer or something?" he asked.

"Okay, I'm pretty sure now that you are just stupid," Naomi
said, getting smirks from her sisters.  "You peed them, you
wash them in the sink and hang them to dry.  If you're
lucky, they won't be too damp when it's time for you to go
out again."

Tommy looked at the pile with revulsion.  "Wash them in the
sink?" he echoed.  "With my bare hands?"

"Bingo!" Naomi replied.  "Now stop stalling.  Pick them up
and put them in the sink, run some water in it, and start
wringing them out."

"But I'll get pee on me," Tommy protested.

""Probably," Naomi said.  "But it's only fair, seeing how
it's your little wee-wee it came out of."  She frowned as
Tommy still showed no signs of picking up his clothes. 
"Stop stalling, I said!  If those clothes aren't in the sink
with you wringing them out in 15 seconds, you'll be bent
over my bench crying your bratty eyes out!"

Tommy bent down and picked up his pants between a thumb and
forefinger, holding them gingerly as far from him as he
could.  He dropped them in the sink and bent down to get his
socks and underpants.  A barely suppressed giggle startled
him into straightening up quickly.  Melissa had moved around
until she was behind him, and was suppressing her reaction
at the sight he'd made as he bent over and his genitals and
anus were visible from behind.  Tommy quickly threw the
sodden mass in the sink and bellied up to it, hiding his
exposed genitals temporarily against the counter.  They
could still see his butt, but there was nothing he could do
about that.  He turned on the water and began stirring the
mass of cloth around with his index finger.

"Pick it up in your hands," Naomi said.  "Wring each piece
out, then dip it in the water and wring it out again."

Tommy, grimacing, picked up his underpants with one hand. 
He tried to squeeze it half-heartedly.  "Both hands, dummy!"
Zandra said from her position at the side of the sink, where
she'd been watching him.  "And squeeze hard!"

Tommy grimaced again but complied.  He hated pee.  He hated
smelling it, but more than that he hated getting it on him. 
Oh, he knew it was sterile – his brother had even confirmed
that himself.  But that didn't make it any less yucky.  He
flashed back briefly to the nightmare of yesterday, when
he'd discovered his pee-soaked undies had been thrust in his
mouth as a gag.  At least these girls hadn't done that.

The clothing was finally rinsed to Naomi's satisfaction and
hung on a convenient line that stretched across the studio
to dry, next to a number of paintings in various stages of
production.  Naomi herself hung them, as the line was too
high for the others to reach.  While her back was turned,
Melissa reached out suddenly and grasped Tommy's barely
protruding penis, giving it a healthy yank.

"Hey!" Tommy complained, backpedaling.

Naomi turned and looked at his sharply.  "Can't you be quiet
for any length of time at all, boy?" she asked.

"But she pulled my.."  Tommy began.  Naomi interrupted him.

"I don't want to hear it.  Melissa is a girl.  You are
merely a boy.  A lowly penis person.  Her body may be
sacred, but yours is profane.  Your stuff hangs out for a
reason – so that we can control you with it.  Ours is hidden
so you can't control us.  And because of that, Melissa is
entitled to do anything she wants to any part of you she
wants as long as she doesn't do you any serious damage.  Is
that clear?"  Naomi asked.

Tommy dropped his eyes.  Triumphant, Melissa reached over
again, this time in plain sight of her sister, and gave his
penis another healthy yank, this time holding onto it when
she finished with a tight squeeze.  Tommy stifled his
protests this time, taking the manhandling or rather girl
handling of his privates stoically despite the discomfort it
created. Naomi spoke up.  "As long as you've got hold of
that thing, lead him over to the table with it.  It's time
to take the impressions!"

Impressions?  Tommy wondered.  What were they up to now?

He soon found out.  He was led, still butt naked, by the
quite firm grip of Melissa's small hand over to a work
table, which Naomi helped him climb on to.  Once he was
there, she made him lie on his back with his legs stretched
out and slightly apart, and pulled his shirt up till it was
under his arm pits. His little, shrunken penis flopped
upward, so it was aiming at his face.  The girls giggled at
the effect. Naomi frowned. "Let's get to work, girls!"  she
said.  "You both know the drill.  Just like we did with the
little guy."  

"I'll get the grease," Melissa said.  She walked over to a
workbench, and picked up the largest jar of Vaseline Tommy
had ever seen in his life.  Sitting it down beside him on
the bench, she dipped her hand in, extracting a large glob,
which she immediately wiped on his thigh near his genitals. 
Her sister took another glob and wiped it near his navel.  
The two begin immediately spreading it around the
surrounding area, the one covering his entire stomach with
it, the other coating his thigh. Tommy fought to keep from
laughing.  He wasn't the most ticklish person in the world,
but those little hands definitely tickled.  He guessed,
correctly that it would not be wise for him to curl up in
hysterics.  Finally, he was covered with Vaseline from his
midsection to his knees, except for his genital area.  Both
girls then took smaller dollops of Vaseline and attacked
that area simultaneously, Melissa working on his balls,
Zandra taking his penis.  The latter quickly covered his
barely protruding organ, but continued stroking, pulling and
caressing it. 

Naomi looked over.  "That's the way, Zandra," she said.  "We
need to make him hard, as hard as he can get."  Her sister
continued to circle his penis, tickling and stroking it,
trying to entice it to stand up.  Melissa finished her
careful work on his balls, and stood back, watching. 
Several minutes went by, but Tommy still felt no sensation
from his groin, no answering excitement.  Zandra looked at
her sister, obviously disappointed.

"It's not working," she said.  "He's not getting hard.  Are
you sure he can?"

"Of course it can," her sister said.  "All boys get
erections, even baby ones.  They spend half their time hard. 
He even got hard earlier looking at you guys' pictures in
the office."

"Well, he's not getting hard now," Zandra snapped.  She
stopped her earnest stroking of Tommy's penis and stood
back, frustrated.

"You, boy!"  Naomi snapped.  "Play with yourself until you
get hard!"

"What?"  Tommy said, although he heard her perfectly well.

"You heard me," she said.  "Play with your little toy it
until it gets hard!  I need it that way for the casting! 
You don't want to know what I'll do to you if you don't!"

Frightened to the core by that last threat, Tommy
reluctantly reached down and took his penis in his right
hand, slightly disturbed by the greasiness of it.  He slowly
began stroking himself, all too aware of the two young girls
standing there watching him with amused expressions.

"Faster, faster!"  Naomi ordered.  "I know how boys play
with themselves!  And it isn't with little wussy movements
like that!  Now do it like you mean it!"  Frightened, Tommy
went to his normal fisting grip, wrapping all his fingers
and thumb around his small, flaccid shaft.  He began
stroking himself more rapidly, willing himself to a hard on. 
Another minute went by and nothing happened.  Naomi, who'd
been making sketches of him furiously playing with himself,
finished the one she was working on and looked at him over
the pad.  "Is there a problem?"  She asked, arching one
eyebrow.

Tommy, who had been focusing on his recalcitrant organ,
looked up, blushing.  "I'm trying," he pleaded.  "But it's
not working!"

"Well, try harder!"  Naomi growled.  "I need you hard, I
need you hard now!"  Tommy took his other hand, and began
stroking the side of his balls, circling under his sack and
coming back the other side, then circling back.  He saw
Naomi's critical expression.  

"This sometimes helps," he said by way of explanation,
blushing.  He continued stroking his penis furiously, and
circling his sack while all three girls looked on, Zandra
occasionally snapping pictures.  Tommy suddenly noticed her
with a camera in front of her face, pointing at his groin. 
His hands froze.  "Does she have to do that?"  he asked. 
"It's embarrassing!"

"Being a boy is embarrassing," Naomi replied.  "Having a
little worm in the front of your pants that does your
thinking for you and stands up when you don't want it to and
won't stand up when you do want it to, ought to be
sufficiently embarrassing by itself.  I think that would be
the ultimate in humiliation.  I wouldn't think anything
beyond that could make it any worse."  The other two girls
smiled an agreement.  Tommy looked at them, his hands still
frozen.  "Did I say you could stop?"  Naomi said.  Guiltily,
Tommy went back to stroking himself, now gently massaging
his balls.  Two more minutes passed with no visible change
in the turgidity of his equipment.  His penis stayed
completely soft, with barely an inch projecting from his
groin.  

"Great, just great!"  Naomi muttered.  "Every other boy
walks around with a permanent hard on, and I get the one who
can't get it up!"

"Maybe we should smack his sack or something," Melissa
suggested.  "I can go get the ruler."

"That won't help," Zandra replied.  "That makes boys softer,
not harder!"

"It's tempting, though," Naomi said.  "This brat has already
been more trouble than 10 boys!  What do you think, boy? 
Think a good old smack with the ruler on each of the family
jewels might wake you up!"

Terror showed in Tommy's face.  "No!"  He wailed.  "Please
no!  I can't stand it!  It hurts too bad!"  He cupped his
balls with both hands, trying to shield them.

"So you're saying you want me to do something else to make
you hard instead?"  Naomi asked.  "Are you saying you'd
prefer anything to a good smack on the jewels?"

"Yes!"  Tommy said.  "Anything else, just not that!"

"All right then."  Naomi said.  "Get up on all fours."

Slowly, starting to wonder if he'd made a bad choice, Tommy
sat up and turned himself, so that he was on his hands and
knees on the workbench.  "Good, good," Naomi said.  "Now
lower your head to the bench."  She ordered.  Looking at her
suspiciously, Tommy lowered his head as instructed.  "Now
spread your knees, farther apart," he said.  The other two
girls shifted around to Tommy's hind end as he reluctantly
separated his knees as ordered.  He looked back through his
legs at them.  From the girls' point of view, his serious
upside down face was perfectly framed by his legs on either
side and the bulge of his scrotum above his chin.  Zandra
snapped a couple more pictures from this angle.  Great, just
great!  thought Tommy to himself.  I'm sure she can see my
butt hole and everything from that angle!

The two girls were indeed enjoying this new angle on Tommy,
a fact that was confirmed in moments as Melissa chanted in a
singsong voice, "I see your poopy hole, I see your poopy
hole!"

"Calm down," her older sister snapped.  "It doesn't look any
different than the poopy hole on that younger boy."

"Yes it does," her sister insisted.  "It's a lot bigger, and
more wrinkled!  And it bulges out a little bit, like it's
swollen!  It's all red, too!"

"That's because he got punished this morning," Naomi
responded.  "According to Beth he had a most unfortunate
encounter with a rather wide carrot," she added.  "It
somehow got in there, and he had to get it out the normal
way."

Zandra a dissolved into hysterics.  "You mean, he had to
poop it out?"  She exploded.  Hearing her words, Melissa
dissolved into hysterics also.

"I'm afraid so," Naomi said.  She had been looking around on
other workbenches as she replied.  Now she seized something
and hurried back to the bench with.  Reaching for the tub of
Vaseline, she dipped the thing she was holding into it and
then withdrew it.  She held it up in front of Tommy's face
from between his legs for his inspection.  Tommy's eyes
goggled.  Coated in a thick covering of Vaseline was a very
realistic-looking boy's penis, including a realistic scrotum
was visible testes swelling its surface.  The penis was
circumcised, with a prominent, mushroom shaped head, and
even a visible pee slit.  It curved upward slightly and was
obviously sporting a full-fledged hard on.  It looked to be
roughly the size of his brother Chad's penis, maybe 2 inches
from base to tip and may be three quarters of an inch wide. 
The scrotum ended at the back with a flat surface, so the
whole thing could sit up on a table pointed at the sky like
a paperweight.

"It's a cast I made off the previous boy," Naomi said. 
"I'll be making one off of you, too, if you can ever get it
up.  Now here's an irony for you—that boy's erection is
going to help your own out!  I have yet to see a boy who
didn't get hard when he had another boy's dick shoved up his
butt."

Tommy's head flew up from the workbench and he plopped
backwards onto his butt, his hands flying to either side of
it to press it even more tightly shut.  "No!"  He squealed. 
"No, no, no!  There's no way that's going up my butt!"

"Melissa, get the ruler," Naomi commanded.  The smaller
girl, raced across the room, coming back with a sturdy
looking piece of wood a foot long, the sides wrapped in
brass.  She handed it to her sister.  Naomi took it and
walked towards Tommy threateningly, still holding the
plaster cast in her other hand.  "You will get back into
position and stay there while I shove this into you," she
said, holding up the plaster cast.  "Or I will take this
stick to your jewels alternately until you decide you are
going to get into position and stay there."  She waved the
ruler towards Tommy's now partially exposed groin.  

Tommy quailed, his eyes shifting fearfully between the ruler
and the plaster cast.  "No," he said softly.  "No, you
can't," he said even more softly.  His right hand went to
shield his scrotum.

"I can," Naomi said.  "And I will.  Now get into position."

Whimpering, Tommy very slowly, lowered his head back to the
bench, cradling it into his trembling hands.  Even more
slowly, he separated his knees again, until his buttocks
spread apart, and his butt hole was again clearly visible. 
"No," he whispered again.  "No, please!  Please?"  He looked
at her pleadingly from between his legs.  Setting down the
ruler, Naomi approached Tommy's nether bull's-eye with the
cast of the other boy's firm erection, a casting that was
mocking Tommy's current flaccid state.  She touched the tip
to the tight slit in the middle of his crack.  Tommy
whimpered more loudly.  "No," he whispered again, his whole
body trembling.  The other two girls watched this scenario
wide-eyed.  A shudder went through Tommy, as she began to
apply pressure to his already sore orifice.

"Just relax," Naomi said cheerfully.  "I'll have this up
your naughty little tushy in no time, and then Mr. Weenie
will probably come out of hiding and say hello."  She pushed
more firmly, gradually increasing her pressure.  Without
warning, Tommy sphincter parted under the assault, and the
realistically curved phallus slid it's curve smoothly into
Tommy until the cast balls were touching his.  Tommy let out
a shriek and straightened up on his knees, both hands going
back and pawing at his bottom, trying to get at the
intruder.  Naomi batted his hands away, continuing to press
the casting of the other boy's penis firmly into place. 
Tommy dropped his hands in frustration and arched his back,
moaning.  

"Take it out!  Take it out.  It hurts!"  he wailed.  The two
younger girls had shifted around to Tommy's front, where
they were staring expectantly at his genitals.

"Look, it's getting bigger already!"  Melissa cried.  Tommy
tried to stifle his whimpers and looked down at himself.  It
was true.  Although the inside of his butt now burned like
fire, and the urge to expel the intruder was overwhelming,
his penis was rapidly erecting itself, stretching out to its
full 3 inches in moments.

"See, that's what all boys are like!"  Naomi said.  "They
all like to have stuff stuffed up their butts!  Especially
each other's wieners!"

"Gross!"  Both girls exclaimed. Tommy opened his mouth,
about to dispute, Naomi's claim, but realized it would sound
ridiculous, with his penis throbbing in front of him, the
head swollen in excitement, giving a lie to any protest. 
The three girls stood and stared at his turgid organ for a
moment.  Melissa reached out and touched the head with a
fingertip, then grew bolder and squeezed it tightly.  "It's
hard inside," she said, marveling.  "But the outside is
still soft!  It's even harder than the other boy's."

"He didn't have a dick up his butt," Naomi said reasonably. 
"He didn't have any trouble getting it up on his own.  Now
back to work, girls" Naomi said.  "Get on your back, boy, so
we can take the casting."

"But..." Tommy began.  His voice broke and he tried again. 
"But..."

"I think he's trying to ask if you'll take it out first,"
Zandra said. 

"Huh uh, no way.  We just got him hard, I don't wanna lose
it," Naomi said firmly.  She reached up with her hands and
began guiding Tommy on his back.  Tommy moaned, the hard
phallus inside of him feeling like an unnatural intruder as
he was stretched out on his back once again.  The back end
of the casting pressed against the table, prodding it firmly
against his butt.  His dick was swaying in the air over his
groin, insistently hard, begging to be touched, stroked to
orgasm.  Tommy kept his hands at his sides, though, because
he was afraid of what Naomi would do if he touched himself,
and because he was even more afraid of how it would feel if
he had an orgasm with the plaster phallus in his butt.

Over the next few minutes, the girls deftly dipped sheets of
cloth into a white solution and draped them in various
places on the front of his body, molding them to follow his
anatomy.  Naomi herself worked on his genitals, using very
small pieces of cloth and arranging them very carefully in
directions that would hug his anatomy.  The wet pieces of
cloth felt cold on him to start with, then gradually began
generating their own internal warmth that felt like he had a
hot pack on him.  His penis continued throbbing, even while
covered with the stuff, begging to be stroked.  The three
girls then left, moving out of Tommy's sight, leaving him
lying on the workbench with strict admonitions not to move a
single inch on pain of having his "jewels smacked."  Of
course, immediately Tommy began itching in places underneath
the cloth covering, especially where his balls joined his
legs.  To compound the problem, his butt hole and rectum
continued to complain about the rigid intruder stuck in
them, although the initial burning was gone and he mainly
felt overly full.

It was some time before they returned.  Working their
fingers under the edges of the now hard shell over Tommy,
they began separating it from his body, slipping their
fingers under the edges as they went, pushing his skin down
out of the mold.  Tommy fought to keep from giggling as the
younger girls' small hands tickled his tummy and legs.  They
finally worked their way to his genital region, and that's
where they discovered a problem.

"It won't come out," Melissa said, after having prodded the
base of his hard, projecting penis repeatedly and
increasingly painfully.  "I've got his balls loose, but his
wee-wee won't come out!"

"Must still be hard," Naomi said.  Reaching across the
table, she hauled Tommy to his feet, so he was standing up
on his knees.  He had to hold onto the mold to keep it from
falling forward and pulling painfully on his stuck penis. 
Without warning, Naomi grasped the projecting base of the
plaster penis in Tommy's butt and pulled it roughly from his
butt hole in one motion.

"Yeowwwwww!" Tommy shrieked.  "Ow!  Ow!  OWWWW!"  He reached
back with his left hand to paw at his butt while still
clumsily holding the mold that was attached to his penis
with his right hand.  His penis began to immediately deflate
inside the mold.  He was oblivious to that, though – the
rapid removal of the plaster cast had set his rectum on fire
again inside.  He probed gingerly between his buns,
discovering that his butt hole was still gaping open, open
enough he could stick a finger into it easily.  "It's open!" 
he wailed.  "It won't shut!"

"Oooooo, let me see!"  Zandra said.  She reached up with
both hand and spread Tommy's butt, looking at his
temporarily paralyzed orifice.  

"Yuck!" Melissa said, staring intently along with her
sister.  "It's like a vagina!  It's even pink!"

"You remember what I taught you," Naomi said.  She was
working on dislodging the plaster cast carefully from
Tommy's now shrinking penis.  "Boys sometimes use other
boys' rectums like a vagina!  They'll stick their dicks in
anything if it gets them off!  Now you see why they do
that."

"Gross," Melissa said.  "Boys are disgusting."

"Hey, it's moving!" Zandra said, still holding Tommy's butt
apart.  His sphincter was twitching, squeezing gradually
tighter in little jumps, closing the open tunnel into the
boy.  In moments it was a thin line in his crack again.

"Show's over," Zandra said, letting go of Tommy's butt. 
Naomi, to Tommy's relief, and freed his now drooping penis,
and the burn in his rectum was fading.  

"Now what?" Melissa asked.

Now we do his backside," Her older sister Naomi said.  "Then
we can move on to much more humiliating activities for this
youngster."