Tommy's Attitude Adjustment Chapter 36
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 36:  The Reward

It took another half hour to complete the casting of Tommy's
butt and lower back and upper legs.  Tommy was made to lie
face down on the table, Naomi arranging his penis so that it
was under his stomach and thus did not push his balls out of
position from the rear.  Tommy found that position somewhat
uncomfortable under the circumstances.  When he'd been a bit
younger, he'd sometimes liked to lie in his bed on his
stomach with his hard penis trapped under his belly, his
full weight on the pulsingly hard little cylinder.  When his
brother was asleep or wasn't around, he'd sometimes rock
against it, feeling the naughty pleasure that radiated from
it when he did.  But he'd stopped doing that when hair had
appeared on his crotch and his penis had gotten bigger – it
just wasn't as comfortable, a fact that was accentuated by
the fact that now it was pressing against a hard table. 
Again his legs were spread the right distance apart to match
the casting from the front, so that the girls could plainly
see the back of his scrotum clinging to the joining point of
his legs, and his anus winking shyly from between barely
parted buns.  The younger girls readied the cloth pieces as
before, but their sister moved to the far side of the room,
taking the plaster cast she'd made of his front with her. 
Tommy twisted his head around until he could just see her
out of the corner of his eye, apparently holding the casting
of his body in one hand and inserting rounded pegs of
various lengths into the projecting cylinder that had so
recently trapped his penis.  She finally found one that fit
snugly and set the casting down.  But she wasn't satisfied
with that one, apparently, because she then started
comparing other sticks to it until she'd found one that
appears somewhat bigger.  She walked back to the bench
holding it, and headed straight for the Vaseline jar, where
she dipped the end in.  She began coating it liberally with
Vaseline.

Tommy's mind suddenly made the leap to what she intended. 
"No!  No, no, no!" he said in a voice that was an octave
above his normal tone.  Her intent was clear.  "You can't! 
It's too big!  You can't put that up me!"

"Of course I can, stupid," Naomi said.  "And I'm going to. 
Now shush.  Your hole has to be open just the right amount
that your own dick would fit into it tightly, and this stick
is just that size.  It was to be this way – otherwise the
wrinkles of your butt hole wouldn't have that natural look. 
Besides, you're definitely in no position to complain – if I
recall what your sister told me, you stuck your own dick up
your cousin's butt and didn't worry if it would fit.  A bit
of your own medicine will do you good."  She stuck the stick
in the Vaseline jar for a moment and picked up a pad on
another table, flipping the pages and then turning the pad
so Tommy could see it..  "This is how it's going to look,"
she said, holding the page in front of Tommy.

The page had a drawing a series of identical boys' torsos
drawn on it, arranged in a row facing the same direction and
touching each other.  The front torso showed a jauntily-
curved erect penis sticking out into space.  The penis of
the torsos that followed weren't visible, because they were
so close that the groin of each was pressed against the
buttocks of the one in front.  It took Tommy a moment to
realize what that meant.  "They're – they're – they're—"  he
stammered.

"They're fucking each other in the butts," Naomi put in.  "I
call it, 'Go Fuck Yourself.'  It just illustrates what you
boys would do to yourselves if you could."  She flipped
pages, showing him a detail drawing of her inspiration.  It
showed one of the torsos from the rear.  Its very realistic
looking boy butt was parted in the center as if held apart
by a cylinder the size of a boy's dick, and the anus,
clearly depicted, was open and the edges distended like an
open mouth with the gaping outward, like someone with a
popsicle in his mouth pulling it out while he sucked the
juice off of it..  It looked familiar, but it took Tommy a
moment to realize where he'd seen it before.  Suddenly an
image of his brother Chad came to mind, poised over the
patio drain on all fours, pooping, his anus bulging around
his emerging turd.  His butt hole had also extended out like
that, hugging the turd tightly as it exited.  As it would
hug a withdrawing penis as well.   "It's got to be like this
in the casting," Naomi explained, pointing to the distended
anus of the torso.  "So that when it mates with the next
torso, the dick of it will fit in and it will look like it's
fucking."

She flipped to another page.  "But the last one has to be
closed," she said, showing a similar torso with the butt
depicted as it normally looked, with the crack closed and
the anus invisible.  "So we have to take two castings from
your back – one for each 'Lucky Pierre' in the middle, and
one for the endmost statue."

"What do you mean, 'Lucky Pierre?'" Tommy said, puzzled.

"It's just an old joke or story of some kind.  The idea is
that three Frenchmen are having sex together at the same
time.  The one on the front gets it up the butt, but doesn't
get the pleasure of having his dick up someone else at the
same time.  He has to satisfy himself with his hand or
convince the guy in the back to reach around and stimulate
him.  The one in back gets to enjoy having his dick up the
one in the middle, but doesn't get the pleasure of feeling
someone's dick up his butt at the same time, and you know
how much you boys like that – you just demonstrated it
yourself.  But the one in the middle, Pierre, gets to have a
dick up him at the same time that he has his dick up the
other guy's butt, so he's in the lucky position, he's 'Lucky
Pierre.'"

"Oh," Tommy said, not knowing what else to say.  "But…"

"Your butt, little boy," Naomi interrupted.  "This stick is
going up it whether you like it or not.  You can relax and
take it in slow and easy, or you can fight me and make it
hurt, but it's still going in there.  We need to do the
harder one, the one where your butt hole is open, first. 
Then we can do the easier one with the stick out for the
back torso."

"But…" Tommy tried again.

"What is that, your favorite body part or something? 
Protesting isn't going to change anything, little boy.  This
is going to happen, it's just a matter of what state you're
in when it happens.  It can happen with you lying
comfortably on the bench like you are now, or it can happen
with your baby balls throbbing from a firm paddling."   She
paused significantly and then picked up the ruler she'd
threatened him with earlier.  Tommy's heart jumped, and the
fear apparently showed in his face.  Naomi smiled and put
down the ruler.  "Girls, get him ready for the casting. 
I'll put this in when he's prepared."

The two younger girls leaned over the bench and began
working Vaseline into Tommy's back and upper legs, the two
working together towards Tommy's butt.  Once there, Melissa
took his left bun, which was on her side, and Zandra took
his right, and they began working Vaseline in from the
outside to the center.  Tommy found the process both erotic
and uncomfortable.  Erotic, because their small hands felt
good on his butt – a lot like Jesse's hands had felt Friday
night when he'd been comfortable and sleepy and secure, and
before his world had come tumbling down.  Uncomfortable,
because his butt was still sore from his multiple spankings,
and his butt hole ached from the last intruder.  The dowel
sitting in the Vaseline jar was as big as his own dick!  He
shuddered to think how it would feel going in.  His thought
suddenly drifted to Gabriel – how has his dick felt going
into that smaller butt?  Gabriel had squealed under the hand
he'd had over the little boy's mouth, and he'd gotten torn –
it must have hurt a lot.  And hadn't he wanted to hurt
Jesse?  Wasn't that his plan all along when he'd climbed on
top of the little boy he thought was his friend?  He
wondered if Gabriel had been as frightened of the coming
pain then, when he'd had his dick poised at the entrance to
the little boy's hole.  He suddenly felt profoundly,
overwhelmingly sorry.  He needed to apologize to both of
them – apologize seriously and with feeling, not the forced
apologies he'd managed earlier.

Meanwhile, though, the girls had reached his butt crack and
were massaging Vaseline into the area around his hole and
into the broad, smooth space between his legs, under his
balls.  His penis stiffened to rock hardness under his belly
and Melissa traced the line down between his legs between
butt hole and balls with small, soft, nimble hands.

The small hands working on him suddenly stopped and were
gone, the two girls wiping their hands on his lower back. 
"He's ready," Zandra said.

"Take the camera and capture his expression while it goes
in," Naomi said.  "It should be priceless.  You, boy!  Stop
trying to hide your face!  Look directly at the girls while
I do this – I want them to see!"  Reluctantly, Tommy lifted
his face from where he'd buried it in his arms in
anticipation of taking the dowel "up the chute," as his
cousin Gabriel had called being fucked in the butt.  He was
trembling slightly.  He felt the greasy end of the dowel
against his slightly parted buns, felt it push his buns
aside, drilling in on his rear entrance.  He flinched as it
contacted his butt hole, pushing on it with increasing
pressure.  His hole parted easily this time, much more
easily than it had in the past, apparently adjusting to
constantly being impaled.  It stretched wider and wider as
the stick went in.  It felt like the peg chair felt, except
fuller, wider – wide like the carrot had been – wide to the
point of excessive fullness, to the point of extreme
discomfort, but not exactly pain.  It felt like he was on
the verge of pain, that at any moment it could become
sharply painful.  Tommy's eyes went wide and he let out a
little grunt as it continued to enter him, farther than the
peg on the peg chair had done, farther than Gabriel's dick
or the plaster one he'd had in him earlier.  His rectum
burned and he bit his lip as it finally came to a stop,
sticking comically out of his butt like a flagpole, his buns
settling around the length of it.  Inside him, he felt an
odd liquid pressure in a certain spot just behind his wiener
– a feeling like he was on the verge of squirting, but not
quite there yet.  It was uncomfortable, frustrating, and yet
erotic to the point of unbearableness.  

Meanwhile, throughout the long insertion process, Zandra was
busily snapping pictures of his changing expressions, and
Melissa was staring at his butt with wide eyes.  Just when
it felt like he had about 10 feet of the stick shoved up him
and was thinking he couldn't take it any more, Naomi stopped
pushing the stick in, and then pulled it backwards about
half an inch, so his butt hole clung to the edges, gripping
like it had in her picture.  "Perfect," she said.  "Now hole
still or I'll paddle your little jewels like I promised."

Chad tried to hold as still as possible as the girls
plastered him with wet cloth again.  The process went
rapidly and smoothly, the girls doing the wider expanses of
skin, Naomi working on his butt and where it joined the pole
and on the space between his legs and his sack.  Again as
before the wet mass on him began heating up until it was
almost too warm, and again the girls disappeared for awhile
after ordering him not to move.

The minutes ticked by slowly as Tommy lay face down on the
bench in the studio alone, his penis throbbing under him,
his butt hole full and uncomfortable yet somehow adding to
the tingle in his penis, the casting bearing down on him
like a person on his back.  A small person, to be sure, but
it hugged him like a person would lying over his back.  He
wondered if this is how it would feel to have a boy take him
from behind rather than face to face like Gabriel had taken
him.  It might feel kind of good to have a warm, soft body
draped over your back.  With his eyes closed, he could
imagine that a smaller boy was hugging his torso from
behind, that the peg in his butt was the boy's insistent
little cock invading him as deeply as it could reach, that
the boy was poised to pull out and then enter him again and
again, soft skin against his back, hard cylinder up his
butt.  Maybe the boy would reach around and stroke his penis
while he did it, like Naomi suggested in describing the
"Lucky Pierre" scenario.

With a start, Tommy realized that he was horny as heck
thinking about these things – his penis wanted his touch,
wanted release very, very badly.  There was something about
having that plaster dick up his butt – it pushed inside him,
made him feel almost ready to cum.  He wished he dared reach
back and move it – slide it gently in and out, let it
stimulate his insides more completely.  Again the image of a
boy's warm body on top of him appeared in his mind, the
plaster dick in his butt a real boy's dick throbbing with
its own excitement in his butt, a boy riding him, reveling
in the pleasure of it, gripping his shoulders, mop of hair
flying as he rocked.  Jesse, that's who he was picturing
invading him.  Not Gabriel, with his smaller cock, Jesse
giving it to him from behind.  Jesse's slightly curved
little cock pistoning in his butt, Jesse's soft skin against
his back.  Was that really what he wanted?  For Jesse to
take him up the butt?

He didn't have time to think about that any more, though,
because the girls burst back in and began loosening the
casting from around his back and legs, moving toward his
butt and the peg impaling it.  Naomi pulled that part off,
easing it and the dowel out of him together so as not to
disturb the perfect pattern she'd made of his butt hole
protruding around the dowel.  She finally held the intact
casting in her hands, looking into it with satisfaction. 
"That'll do, pig, that'll do," she muttered.  Tommy racked
his brain, knowing he'd heard that phrase somewhere before. 
Oh, yeah, that stupid movie about the pig who acted like a
dog so no one would eat him – his mother had a video tape of
it they used to watch along with all the Disney stuff.  

Then it was time for the final casting, which was almost a
relief to Tommy, given that this time there was nothing at
all in his butt for a change, which also meant that his dick
softened somewhat and wasn't so uncomfortable trapped under
him (although the constant contact with his bottom during
the process kept is half hard, anyway.  His bottom actually
felt kind of empty with nothing shoved up it, like something
was missing.  Again the girls warned him against moving a
muscle and departed, leaving Tommy alone with his thoughts. 
This was so weird – weirder even than the other weird stuff
he'd undergone in the last 2 days.  Losing control like
that, fucking another boy in the butt – that was weird –
he'd never done anything that out of control before.  His
newly acknowledged feelings for Jesse – those were weird,
too – weird and exciting and powerful and disturbing all at
once.  Chad claiming to have been sucked by his nemesis
Lindsay at the theater, and Gabriel backing him up, saying
that it had indeed happened.  Jesse going off with that Alan
kid, the thought of which made jealousy spring to life in
Tommy and swell like a growing balloon.  Being forced to
sniff boys' underwear to identify them – that was the kind
of sick thing only his sister could have dreamed up.  Being
stripped in the backyard, being forced to masturbate there
in the open, only to find that 6 girl scouts his own age
were watching,  being publicly and viciously paddled by
little Gabriel, who cheerfully ground his nuts together in
the process and laughed at his pain.  And then the weird
being a dog thing that morning, along with the bizarre
"carrot up the butt" incident.  His life had become too
weird, too unstable.  Tommy vowed that he'd turn things
around starting now – he'd be obedient and respectful of the
wishes of other kids, and he'd watch out for running afoul
of his sister.  He couldn't stand much more of this!

After awhile, the girls came back and easily removed the
second casting (this one having no projections at all to
work around), and the two younger girls wiped the Vaseline
off of Tommy with towels while Naomi caressed her castings
and crowed over them.  Zandra took his front, giving his
genitals special attention, while Melissa took the rear,
seeming to enjoy prying his buns apart and scrubbing his
sensitive anus and the backside of his balls as long and as
roughly as she could..  Finally they cast the towels aside
and stood looking at him, admiring his exposed body.  Tommy
stood by the bench, bottom still naked, feeling foolish. 
His penis had gone into full retreat again.  The girls
looked at him, and he looked back.  His intestines suddenly
groaned loudly enough to be heard in the room, and he felt
an odd shifting inside of him.

"Oops, better get back to work!" Naomi sang out.  "We don't
have much time now!"

Tommy considered.  It was only mid morning – why didn't they
have much time?  He hated being the only naked person in a
room full of clothed people.  "Can I have something to wear
on my bottom if you're done with it, please?  My underpants
are still wet, I think," he asked tentatively.  His
intestines gurgled again, more loudly, and he felt another
internal shift.

"Of course!   You definitely need something, and the sooner,
the better," Naomi said.  She hurried to a bench, coming
back with a handful of cloth, which she spread out on the
workbench, arranging it.  "Come here, boy, and let's get you
dressed," she said, moving aside.  When she moved, Tommy
could see it was several layers of white cloth, neatly
arranged in piles to make a rectangle.  A familiar
rectangle.  His heart sank.  A diaper!  A cloth diaper! 
They wanted to dress him in a diaper, like a baby.  Next to
the diaper, she'd put several large diaper pins, with
bunnies on the heads.  Bunnies!  Tommy was mortified.  He
could see what she was up to now – she wanted pictures of an
early adolescent boy in diapers – one of the ultimate
humiliations for boys!  He hung his head.  Melissa reached
over suddenly and grasped his penis, squeezing it firmly and
then yanking it downward, hard.  Tommy squeaked in alarm and
tried to pull away.  Melissa squeezed harder, and began
pulling him toward the bench.  

"Okay, I'm going!" Tommy said, following his member toward
the bench.  She tugged upward on his genitals. Blushing, he
climbed up awkwardly, the girl still holding his member
until he was sitting on the diaper.  At her nudging, he lay
back and then spread his legs apart.  His previous
experiences with Chad's diaperings and his own meant he knew
what was expected from him.  Zandra approached with a tube
of something, squeezing a glob of white stuff out of it.  

"Diaper rash cream," she said.  "Wouldn't want you to get an
owie bottom!"  She started by applying it to his groin
around his penis, then slowly and carefully spreading it
over his genitals until they were glistening white.  She
continued over his balls, coating all the wrinkles of his
sack, forcing his balls to one side and then the other as
she did.  Naomi was snapping pictures.  "Lift your legs over
your head and hold them," she ordered.  Grimacing, Tommy
lifted his legs into what he knew as the inspection
position.  He had ceased protesting, having learned all it
gained him was more threats to paddle his balls.  He looked
between his legs at the three females. Melissa was looking
on, eyes glistening with excitement, reminding him so much
of Jesse with her size and hairstyle.  His attention then
turned to Zandra, currently working the lotion into his
crack and around his butt hole.  He and Zandra were getting
way too intimate, he decided – she'd had her hands
everywhere on him.  He looked over to Naomi, changing angles
and snapping pictures.  He hated this position – it was as
exposed and vulnerable as a boy could ever be.  All of his
privates were offered up and fully visible, from his
sensitive, easily hurt balls to his tight hole, the ridge of
skin between his legs, and of course every boy's pride, his
penis.  They could all be taken in at once, which made this
the only position where such a clear view of all these
things was possible.  It was almost a relief to be allowed
to lower his legs, as Zandra drew the cloth tightly between
them, so tightly that he felt constricted, and fastened the
layers on either side with two pins apiece.  He sat up on
the bench when instructed and got off, waddling slightly
now.  They must have put at least five layers of cloth on
him!  He bulged from all sides, making his butt look huge,
and the wad of cloth between his legs was formidable.  He
stood obediently as Naomi pulled off his t-shirt, and then
stood motionless as Naomi handed the camera to Zandra and
took up her pad, sketching him again.  Tommy knew that his
expression was exactly what she wanted – he felt ridiculous
in the tight-fitting, bulging diaper.  Like he was a badly
trained toddler being readied for bed.   Adding to his
embarrassment, his intestines gurgled louder yet, knotting
uncomfortably for a moment.  He felt a strong urge to fart,
which he fought.

Zandra walked to one of the benches, coming back carrying
something in her palm. "The finishing touch," she said,
holding it up.  Tommy's spirits fell further.  It was a
baby's pacifier, with a pink ribbon hanging off the back! 
She smiled at his expression, raising the camera and
snapping more pictures.  Then she approached Tommy, holding
it out toward his mouth.  "Open up for your binky, baby!"
she said in mocking tones.  

Tommy opened his mouth to protest, but Zandra, thinking
quickly, and moving even more quickly, shoved the pacifier
into his mouth before he could begin.  "Now hold still so I
can secure it!" she commanded, picking up the ribbons and
beginning to tie them around his head.  Tommy reached up and
grabbed her hands, trying to spit the pacifier back out. 
She easily blocked him, and the struggled for control of the
pacifier for a few seconds.  Tommy's intestines gurgled
violently, and a small fart escaped him, forcing him to
concentrate on sphincter control and let go of Zandra's
hands.  Seizing the opportunity, she swiftly finished tying
the pink ribbon behind his head with a very feminine bow. 
Tommy, regaining control of his digestive system for the
moment, reached up to try to remove it.

"Touch it and die," Naomi said from her sketch pad.  "Or at
least feel like you're dying you know where."  Tommy froze,
then lowered his hands.  His face turned crimson as he
realized the picture he must make, standing in a diaper with
bunny pins holding it tightly around him, a pacifier in his
mouth tied on with a pink bow.  His mouth, disliking the
latex taste of the intruder and liking even less the way it
reminded him of Gabriel's penis, kept shifting it around,
trying to find a place it felt less awkward.  As a result,
he unconsciously worked on the nipple, like a toddler
sucking for comfort.

"Look, he's sucking it!"  Melissa giggled, pointing at
Tommy.  Tommy's mouth froze – he'd been unaware of his
uncontrolled movements.  In the silence that followed, his
intestines gurgled again, and he felt a powerful shifting
low down inside him.  His penis twitched in the tight diaper
and started to harden again from the internal pressure in
his colon.

"Won't be long, now," Naomi commented, sketching wildly.

Tommy's eyes showed his confusion.  'Hmmmmmm?" he asked
around the nipple..

"Until you poop yourself," Melissa said, giggling.  

Tommy stared at her in disbelief, his mouth automatically
going back to working the nipple.  Poop himself?  He wasn't
going to do that, was he?  Not in a million years.  He'd
just hold it until they got tired of this and gave up – he'd
held it in all day sometimes at school in order to avoid
having to sit on the pee spattered seats of the school
toilets.  All he had to do is fight it for awhile and his
intestines would always settle down again and wait for a few
more hours.  As he made that resolve, though, his intestines
gurgled again, and he felt pressure building in his abused
rectum – insistent pressure that belied his resolve.

"You are going to poop yourself, you know," Melissa said,
giggling again.  "The other little boy thought he wasn't
going to poop himself, either, but he found out different. 
Because, you know those pills you swallowed a little bit
ago?  They make you poop.  You can't help it, and you can't
stop it – it just forces its way out!"

"They're laxatives," Naomi said.  "They take an hour or two
to work, but they've had time, now.  You're going to shit
your pants like a baby, and we'll be right here to record
it."

Tommy fought back the pressure in his rectum.  He wasn't
going to do it.  Not this time.  He'd show them – no way he
was pooping his pants.  He could hold off going no matter
what they did – all he'd have to do is concentrate.  Oh, and
not fart like he'd done Saturday morning – that had been his
mistake then.  His intestines shifted again, this time
cramping, making him double over with the sharpness of it. 
This was worse than the normal pressure that he'd sometimes
fight during the school day!  There was an internal shift,
and suddenly his rectum was very, very full, only his iron
grip on his anus saving him.  It felt like he had the mother
of all dumps in there.  He straightened up again as the
cramp passed.

"Why fight it?" Zandra asked.  "It just gets more painful
the longer you wait.  Just let it out."

Tommy looked at her stonily.  He shifted from foot to foot,
now sucking the binky steadily in his nervousness.  Inside
him a war was going on.  His butt hole was barely holding on
under the onslaught, pleading for him to find a toilet, sit
on it, end the agony.  But there was no toilet, only several
layers of cloth to catch the mess and three females looking
on in derision.  He felt another cramp building in him and
doubled over again.  This time he felt the smallest flash of
wetness on his butt hole, squishiness between his buns.  Oh,
God, he'd leaked a little.  But only a little – they
probably couldn't tell if he acted nonchalant.  He
straightened up again as the cramp passed, having a
ludicrous urge to whistle all of the sudden, like Bugs Bunny
did when pretending to be a spy acting normally.  Their
girls were staring at him expectantly.  He was going to beat
this – he could hold it until they gave up, he was sure. 
That last one was probably the worst and…

And then it happened.  His lower intestine gave a mighty
lurch, a cramp started to build, but before he could double
over a flood of material forced itself out of him.  It
filled his crack, oozed between his legs and pressed on his
balls, and bulged the back of the diaper out.  A long
farting sound accompanied his surrender, and he was flooded
with two sensations – relief at last from the terrible
pressure inside him, and the terrible, uncomfortable,
squishy embarrassment of a boy who has pooped his pants in
front of people.  His face reddened, and he looked at the
floor.  Zandra was going wild, her camera taking in his
bulging diaper, his expression, his stance all at once. 
Naomi was sketching like a mad woman.  Melissa was pointing
at the bulge in the back of his diaper and giggling.  Tommy
wanted to die.  He shifted positions, the diaper contents
moving shifting against his butt and privates when he did,
feeling slimy, disgusting.  Zandra focused on his face,
capturing the image.  His intestines lurched again and he
doubled over with another cramp, and more spilled out of
him, filling the back of the diaper, spreading across his
buns.  Flushing from exertion and embarrassment, he
straightened up as well as he could, assuming a legs apart
slump common in toddlers with poopy butts.

Several more minutes passed, Tommy standing helplessly in
his soiled diaper, Zandra snapping pictures, Naomi
sketching, Melissa looking at him from various angles and
prodding his diaper in various places and laughing at his
reaction.  Naomi finally turned her sketch pad toward Tommy. 
Despite his humiliation, he couldn't help looking at what
she'd drawn.   There were two pictures there, front and back
views.  The boy in both was hunched slightly, his bowed
apart as if he was uncomfortable, the back of the diaper
bulging.  Unlike his real condition, with the diaper
clinging snugly, the boy in the pictures diaper was pulled
down in the front and back both by the weight of its
contents, so the top half of his pubic triangle showed in
the front view, the beginning of his crack in the back view. 
His whole posture spoke of discomfort and shame.  And the
face…

The face was most disturbing to Tommy.  There was so much
shame there.  Shame that was accentuated by the pacifier. 
The same look he'd seen on a male puppy belonging to an
acquaintance when he had pooped and peed on the carpet, and
then been whacked twice with a newspaper and then been
dragged over to the mess to have his nose rubbed in it.  A
look that said utter defeat, utter inadequacy, utter
desolation.  But a look that was all too clearly him, and
pretty much how he felt.  He looked away, the squishy
feeling in his diaper unbearable as he shifted.  The picture
taking continued, along with increasingly vigorous prodding
by Melissa, who had taken to poking his diaper hard enough
to play with the shifting contents underneath, spreading the
mess around both front and back.  Finally, Naomi put the pad
down and untied the pacifier from Tommy's head.

Tommy worked his mouth, loosening his tongue.  "Can I – can
I – can I clean up now?  Take a shower?" he pleaded, hoping
this was the worst it was going to get.

"No, I don't think so," Naomi replied.  "Not yet.  I want
you to stew in your mess awhile. Helps increase the
humiliation.  But I think in the meantime you need to do a
little exercising – help you sweat a bit.  Trim that little
belly."

For the next 10 minutes, Tommy was put through a series of
calisthenics by the girls, doing sit ups, push ups, and leg
lifts.  Naomi stood to one side holding the ruler and all it
implied where Tommy could see it, waving it if he was slow
to comply.   The whole experience was utterly degrading to
Tommy.  The sit ups forced him to sit right on the mess in
his diaper, wallow in it, press on it and feel it oozing up
between his legs, surrounding his genitals, filling his
crack, shifting back and forth as  his weight shifted.  The
push ups shifted the mess farther up his crotch, so his
genitals were completely surrounded.  Then the leg lifts
made the contents in back spread all the way up his crack to
the top.  Finally she got him on his feet and made him do
jumping jacks.  The weight in his diaper started making it
sag progressively downward, his butt crack and the top of
his pubic triangle appearing, then the root of his penis and
the swelling cheeks of his butt.  When he reached to try to
pull the diaper up, Naomi cracked his knuckles sharply with
the ruler, making him withdraw his hand in shock and rub his
fingers.  Though he was tiring, she made him continue the
jumping jacks, the diaper now bouncing with each leap, until
finally, as he was becoming exhausted, the entire disgusting
mess slipped off of him and fell to his knees, exposing his
caked genitals and butt, the crotch and trailing a streak
down each of his legs.  Tommy stopped jumping, looking down
miserably at his suddenly exposed, disgustingly smeared
genitals.  Behind him, a soggy mass detached and fell with a
plop into the open diaper by his knees.  Tommy looked down
at himself, sweating and panting and red faced, suddenly
overcome by misery.  He was dirtier than he'd ever been in
his life, covered with the stuff he hated most to get on
him.  He was totally exposed in front of these strange, boy-
hating girls in the worst possible, most pathetic condition
a boy could be in.  He was totally helpless – he couldn't
pull his diaper back up – he was already messed up.  He
couldn't take it off, he'd make the mess worse.  He was
barely keeping it from moving down the rest of his legs and
getting on his feet by standing with is legs spread apart. 
He did what any little boy would do in that situation.  He
burst into tears.

Naomi immediately began drawing again, and Zandra snapping
pictures, as the dam burst and Tommy cried inconsolably.  It
wasn't fair – he was covered with poop and felt awful, and
he was sore and exhausted, and his butt hurt!  And they were
just looking at him, recording pictures of him, making him
an object of derision!  His sides shook as he cried, tears
and snot mixing together and streaking down his chest to mix
with the mess around his genitals and flow on down his leg.
He cried for what seemed like forever, swiping at his face
with his hands and shaking with sobs.  Finally Naomi put her
pad down and guided him, from an arm's length away, to a
large industrial sink in the corner that was low to the
ground and had a spraying wand attached to the faucet. 
Tommy waddled comically as he went, trying to keep the
diaper from falling the rest of the way without touching it,
hating the way his buns felt rubbing together with material
oozing between them.

They finally reached the sink and she lifted Tommy under his
arms and set him inside, careful not to touch him anywhere
below the waist.  Expertly, she washed him down, spraying
him clean again systematically and washing the mess down the
drain.  Tommy stepped one foot and then the other out of the
sodden diaper and kicked it aside.  He didn't even mind that
the water was cold – it felt so good to get that mess off of
him.  After rinsing him several times, Naomi handed Tommy a
bar of soap.  Tommy, who'd managed to calm his humiliating
crying down to sniffles, took the soap gratefully and washed
himself, now no longer caring that the other girls were
watching this process and photographing it.  He started
above his butt and worked between his buns, digging the soap
into the crack and making absurd amounts of lather, not
caring that he was spreading his buns comically or that the
effort made him thrust his again hardening penis toward
them.  He continued around to his front, lathering his
genitals and pubic area again and again until his penis was
standing at attention from all the stimulation.  He let
Naomi rinse him and then scrubbed himself again, starting at
his face this time, washing the dried snot off and moving
down his body, again washing his genitals diligently, no
longer caring that they were watching, photographing,
sketching.  He began to wonder if he'd ever feel clean
again.  He could still feel in his head the awful mass that
had been between his legs, so much worse than when he'd
pooped himself at home.  

He washed his genitals and butt several more times for
security.  He didn't even care when he had to separate his
buns and wash between them, or scrub diligently around his
genitals with his legs spraddled so he could get better
access.  It felt so good to be clean again.  He finally
finished with his feet and stood facing them, waiting for
Naomi to rinse him again.  Instead, Zandra approached and
too the soap, which was now so thin she could break it in
half lengthways and press the two pieces together to make a
rough square out of it.  "Turn around and bend over," she
said.  Tommy, still operating in a daze of compliance caused
by being allowed to be clean again, turned around and bent
over, presenting his bottom to the girls, not caring if they
saw his hole again or not.  

He didn't protest when she lined the soap up against his
rectum and then pressed inward until it slipped in easily. 
He didn't even whimper when she began moving it in and out
repeatedly, coating his insides with the now familiar burn
it made.  He stood patiently while Naomi squirted water into
his now apparently spotless butt hole from inches away.  He
let Naomi put a towel over his shoulders and lift him bout
onto the ground, then picked up another towel and gave it to
Zandra, who began drying him by starting with his genitals,
of course.  Tommy didn't even protest when she pried his
buns apart and spent more than a minute vigorously scrubbing
at his anus.  He didn't even protest when she invaded his
now spotless hole with a towel-wrapped finger, even though
that made his hole burn like a mother.  He stood obediently
as Zandra played with his penis with the towel, masturbating
him with it until Naomi reached out a hand and stopped her
just short of Tommy reaching a climax.  "We want to save
that, little sister," Naomi said warningly.  "Remember our
plan!"  Zandra straightened up and put the towel down. 
Naomi took the towels and looked Tommy over critically from
head to toe, as he stared at the floor submissively.  She
walked around him, pried his butt apart, and looked at it
from close range, then circled to take his penis and lift it
to his stomach as she shifted his balls from side to side,
studying them closely.  "He's clean enough to eat off of,"
she finally pronounced.  "Probably cleaner than he's been in
years."  She released his penis and turned to her sisters.

"Go get the room ready," she said to them.  "You know what
to do next."  The two girls smiled, Melissa actually
chortling with excitement, and dashed off.  Naomi turned to
the workbench.  "You, boy, have been very good – very good
indeed.  So I've decided you should get a brief but very
large reward before we go on with the rest of the posing. 
First, though, we're going to put this on you."  She held up
a padded black device that looked like a pair of sunglasses,
but where the lenses should be there was padded black felt
that wrapped around the sides.  She slipped it over Tommy. 
Darkness was instant – the thing was a mask for his eyes. 
All Tommy could see was a hint of light around the edges, a
hint she soon removed by applying tape around the pads.  Now
Tommy was in total darkness.  "Put your hands behind you,"
she said abruptly.

"Why," Tommy asked, unnerved by his sudden blindness.

"So you can have your reward," Naomi said.  "It's a good
thing, I promise.  Oh, there will be more bad things to
come, but this one you'll really enjoy, I swear it.  But you
have to be tied for it, so put your hands behind you."

Tommy put his hands behind him.  He felt Velcro being
wrapped around them until they were tightly bound to each
other just above his butt.  He felt suddenly disconnected
from the world – The floor under his feet, Naomi's hand on
his bound arm and her voice his only contact with the
outside world.  

"What – what do I have to do now?"  he asked tentatively,
recognizing suddenly how helpless he was, how much he was at
the young woman's mercy.

"Now," Naomi said from his right side, "you get to do what
all boys your age and older would kill to do when they have
an erection like yours.  Tell me something.  Have you ever
fucked a girl?  Or even come close?"

Tommy, somewhat shocked to hear the forbidden f-word used so
casually, shook his head, answering honestly.  "No," he said
hoarsely.  I've never fu—I've never done that to anyone."

"Except your cousin," Naomi reminded him. "Boys you've taken
up the butt count as fucking, and I know all about your
little rape accident.  But have you ever fucked a girl?
Stuck your dick into her and pulled it in and out until you
shoot inside her?"

Tommy was finding it hard to speak, his heart was racing so. 
"No," he whispered hoarsely.

"Well, then I have good news for you.  I sent the girls to a
bedroom we use as a set.  They're getting ready.  Clothing
needs to be removed, you see, and the scene set up.  We're
going there, now to join them.  You'll only be fucking the
one, you see, but it's important that you not know which one
it is.  I'll just use the appellation "Miss E." for your
partner from now on.  Miss E has decided you're cute, wants
it real bad.   I guess there's no accounting for taste, some
people like little equipment.  So I'm going to let you
oblige Miss E.  If it happens to give you pleasure, too,
there's no harm in that.

She tugged at Tommy's arm.  "Come, little boy," she said. 
"Time for you to fuck Miss E."