Stan and Illya were peeking through the shutters of the women's changing room, constantly flicking their eyes back and forth to see if any of the babes were coming their way. When they knew they were all alone with the twenty-something cutie trying on her dress, they couldn't help but paint giant grins on their faces. She was down to the last button on her little green slip, and about to step out of it, when she looked up and seemed to see them. Not suspecting why her face was contorting into a mask of anger, the twelve and ten year old kept staring, right up until she opened the door and yelled at them.

"What're you little brats doing?!" she screamed, eyes wide and flushed. "Are you peeking in on me?"

"Ugh..." the two cousins responded in unison, still feeling their throbbing boners raging against their pants. All the blood had drained from their skulls.

"Ugh! Kids today, where are your parents?"

"Right here!" Rachel called, walking over with her sister, Chrisse. "What's going on?"

"Are these your sons?"

"Mine and hers. Why are you yelling at them?"

"They were peeking in on me! Don't get upset with me!"

Rachel's face flushed an angry and Chrisse's eyes widened, the boys' faces grew into a deathly pallor. "IS THIS TRUE?" Rachel yelled, not caring that she was drawing a deathly pallor. "This is the second time this month!"

"Ugh..." was all the boys could stammer out.

"This month?" the blonde babe inquired.

"They've been harassing girls at school too! I guess it's my fault I should've raised 'em better..."

"I did raise him better," Chrisse asserted, ready to bite her own son's head off. "I think your son broke my son."

"Well I'm gonna break both of them! First, apologize to the young lady! What's your name, miss?"

"Josephine," the woman replied.

The cousins stared at their mothers, their eyes shifting back and forth.

"SAY 'I'M SORRY' NOW!" Rachel screamed.

Both of them snapped to attention and belched out, "I'm sorry madame, I'll never do it again!"

"That's better! We're going home right now, and I'm gonna lay down the law." Chrisse dragged the two preteens out of the store, while Rachel handed a card to the young woman. "Have you ever been to one of these?"

The girl contemplated the card, and smiled slyly, her eyes squinting down as her ruby lips spread apart.

"I believe I have."

As Chrisse was dragging her son and nephew out of the store, she pointed to a young boy with her mother.

"I didn't want to have to do this, but you kids are gonna end up like him." They both blanched, whiter than before, at the nakedness of the child, who looked enviously at his mother's clothes. Not Nudie Juvies!

Later that night, Stan, the twelve year old with the pasty skin and knock-off was Beatles Do, was barred from TV or video games, and was sitting at the table with his mother, Rachel, who was almost screaming her head off.

"I can't believe this! My own son, not able to control his urges, peeping in! Your father never did anything like that! Isn't that right, hun?"

Michael, sitting at the couch and watching the game with his other son and daughter, replied, "Yeah sweetheart. Never anything like it."

"Are you proud of yourself? What'll girls think of you...a pervert!"

"But mom..!" He whined, unsure of what to say next.

"No butts! Me and Chrisse have a special punishment for you tomorrow, and you're not going to do this stuff anymore, understand?"

"What're you going to do?" Stan said, raising his eyebrows, knowing she had already filled out the Nudie Juvie forms, and was just waiting to process them.

Nudie Juvies were a special brand of Child Criminal, who were forced to be naked in public, and even had to endure public spankings. As there was nothing inherently sexual about it (A boy might sprout a boner or a girl a wide-on, but that was okay) It was legal to film and distribute, and served mostly as a humiliation torment. Stan was glad they lived in such an enlightened age, when such things weren't psychologically scarring as they had been in the past. Not as much, anyway. There used to be a long court procedure, but nowadays any Mom could file one, as long as there were at least two written complaints against the child in question. Stan already had three, and it was just a miracle Illya hadn't already been forced into it. The other boy was extremely unruly, and his mother was starting to take drastic measures.

"But Mom! All the girls will see me and...well...you know what it's like!"

"I really don't, I was a good girl as a youth. It'll hurt me more than it does you, though. Besides, you're not just getting nude in public...I know a different punishment, one that's been passed down from generation to generation, even before Nudie Juvies were legal. It's called the Secret Spank."

"What?" Stan said, not sure if his mom was serious. "What're you gonna do?"

Rachel only smiled as a response, and ordered him off to bed.

The next day, when he got up, Rachel forced him to eat breakfast over a quiet table. He was too nervous to talk anyway, though he managed to stammer out to his pop: "Dad...what's the Secret Spank?"

"I don't know," he replied, reading his Newspaper. Soon, Rachel gathered her son and led him out to the car, killing the radio so they drove the whole way in an ominous silence.

They soon arrived at the worst place imaginable, the things little boys nightmares were made of, The Middle School on a Saturday! Rachel dragged him in, the boy too terrified to protest. Whatever was going down, it was going to be hard-core. He hadn't anticipated this, hadn't seen any of This in his dreams of the night before. He couldn't quit gulping. She brought him to the foyer of the School Gym, where a kindly black lady by the name of Mrs. Johnson was standing at a podium, greeting the two as Rachel signed her name to a sheet.

"You can go right on in, Rache," Johnson said, gesturing to the basket-ball court.

"Thanks, but I'm waiting on my sister. She's bringing her little boy too."

"Oh, goody! The more, the merrier!" Mrs. Johnson smiled in a creepy way, much scarier than someone of that kind disposition should be allowed to be smile. Stan was seated right by the glass doors, fidgeting in his seat, his mind unable to draw away from the mystery of 'The Secret Spank.' He couldn't stop pounding his legs, twitching his fingers and glancing his head all around, his mouth already beginning to go dry. He began to think that this was the torture, just the implication of terror to scare him.

In half an hour, he would be proven very, very wrong.

It was really only ten minutes, but it felt like ten years before Chrisse came to the door, dragging her ward in tow. Stan had seen him like this before, and knew that Illya must have thrown a fit: He was strapped to a hand truck, his arms bound up in a straight jacket, and what looked half of a hockey mask tied about his face. It even looked like he had some kind of gag in his mouth, just to keep him from talking. Stan tried to gesture to him, but Illya could only respond with his eyes, which weren't that helpful. It looked like he had been crying.

Chrisse signed them in, and they brought the boys into the gymnasium, shaped like a giant basketball court with big bright lights pounding down on them. There were a few people in the bleachers, what looked like mostly mothers, and Stan began to think he would be paraded nude in front of them. His speculations became a certainty, and a guilty sweat broke out over his body. He could feel himself shuddering, and felt his breath coming in ragged gasps. They were marched past the locker room without breaking stride (Illya didn't even put up a fight from his position) and were led into the locker room, where their eyes widened as they took in a plethora of naked guys miling about. Some of the boys were very young, at best six years old, while a couple were well into their teens. 17 was the limit for 'Nudie Juvies' but it could be applied to adults, though much less effectively. By that time, most of the people out grew their childish modesty and could just accept people looking at their bodies. There were a few who couldn't, though...even if Stan and Illya had never seen them.

Illya had probably calmed down during his time in his entrapments, and when Chrisse untied him, he simply crumpled to the floor, exhausted.

"They're all yours, Suan," the mothers proclaimed, slithering out of the den of sin.

The two cousins turned around, to see one of the babeist babes they had ever laid eyes on. A woman in a tight Nurse's outfit, her natural Ds fighting to break free of her dress. She had on a white hat that capped her gorgeous face, framed by falling curls that led to her shapely shoulders and curing torso. The dress halted at the upper thigh, showing off two bronzed legs.

"Okay boys, outta them clothes, now!" She called, though the love-stricken boys could only stare at her and reply, "Ugh..."

"I said NOW!" and she stomped her foot, drawing their attention to her six-inch stiletto heels that could pierce right through their feet...or anything else, for that matter. They quickly tore off their shirts and lost their pants, displaying their un-man hood for her to observe. They instinctively threw their hands about their crotches.

"Little boys shouldn't be so modest," she marked looking them over. When they didn't do anything, she asserted, "It means uncover yourselves...before I get angry." They quickly put their hands at their sides, their shriveled dicks poking forth. Fully engorged Stan's might reach three inches, and Illya was lucky if his breached one and half.

Susan sauntered away to the next arrivals, the boys unable to draw their eyes away from her ass sliding beneath that dress. "Hey, I'd let her do anything to me," a deep but strained voice said behind them, forcing them to look at a nude teenager eyeing her. "Wouldn't you?"

"Ugh..." they responded.

He smirked. "I guess you guys are young...My name's Nate, what's yours? I figure no one's going to accuse me of being a creep in here."

"I'm Stan Jackson. I'm Twelve," he was hoping the boy would give his age.

"And I'm Illya Dunther. I'm ten, and what this is I don't even know..."

"I'm sixteen. I was a Nudie Juvie once, but never like this. You don't know what's going on either?"

"No, my mom just called it 'the Secret Spanking,' she said it comes from before the Nudie Juvies."

"My Grandma said the same thing. So...are you guys friends, or..."

"We're cousins," Stan said, crossing his arms. He was starting to relax, his dick was starting to flop out. "Ours moms are sisters, and my dad is distantly related to his dad. We're a little inbred, but not enough that it matters. We're almost like brothers though,"

"Only kids? Both of you?"

"No, I've got a brother and a sister, and he's got a little brother. Still, we're closer than most families, and we see each other a lot. We have another cousin who says these more separate families are 'The American Way.' We come from a line of immigrants, you see."

"Yeah, I'm pretty good with my cousins too. So what's your name? Illya? What kinda name is that?

"Like Illya Kuryakin? My dad is a big Man From U.N.C.L.E. fan. He's made me watch nearly every episode."

"Um...I'll pretend I know what that is..." They stood in nude silence for a moment, before Nate ventured, "So, have you guys every been laid?" Knowing the full absurdity of the question, but asking it anyway.

"No," they responded together.

"I have. I think that'll make it easier on me. Once you've had that sexual release, things like this aren't as scary."

That was nice, they both thought, but what the fuck good does it do us?

"Remember this: I think they want to humiliate us as much as possible, do whatever you do, don't cry, the second you do, the bitches have won. Got it?"

Before they could respond, they heard, "What was that mister?" from Susan, who pranced over, grabbing Nate by the chin and asking, "You mind repeating that?"

"I said, 'the Bitches have won.' You gotta problem with that?"

"As a matter of fact, I do!" She reached into a little bag and produced what looked like a small leather lasso, and slipped it about the boy's penis, drawing it so tight that the organ puffed up from the captured blood. She dragged him by this tiny leash, stumbling and skirting along the ground and into a small room, where she loudly closed the door. The two boys could only stare at the door as they heard first an electric hum, then Nate's hysterical voice shouting, "No! No, please! Anything but-Noooooo!"

They heard a rattling sound as though the boy were chained up and trying to escape, as well as several fleshy slaps that indicated Susna was meting out punishment.

"Oh please God, just a little, just give me a-Noooo! Why...Why..." his last few words descended into heavy breaths, like he was holding back sobs, and soon Susan emerged, taking stock of her flock, while Nate stumbled out, his pubes shorn off around his dick. He managed to make it over to his new friends, where he collapsed on the ground, his dick flopping about his bare pelvis as he stared at the dangling members of the cousins. "I look worse than you..."

It was true: Illya, having no hair...at all...still had a little dignity, like he was still pure, and Stan had about three cropped up around the base of his pillar. It wouldn't take much to get rid of them, but he was proud they were there.

Soon they were all called to stand at attention, lining up with Stan in front of Illya in front of Nate, and a few guys down the line from them. They were ordered to begin marching, first the right foot, then the left foot, and they walked outside, greeted to the thunderous cheer of not just Mothers, but a full side of the Gym filled with young women. They all immediately blushed a deep red, and their dicks shrunk up, but this was only the beginning. Out of the corner of his eye Stan looked through the crowd, searching for just one man to alleviate his fear, but he couldn't see one. In truth, every penis in the building was down there on that floor, as they were all visible.

They were all led to some steel chairs spaced about ten feet apart, and about half-way to the middle of the court, giving all the ladies a good look at the boys as they sat down. Stan was able to look over his audience, and he saw many a face, old and young, woman and girl, even some his age and younger and...was that Cindy McPherson? The cute red-hair he had been thinking about trying to maybe put the moves on? Oh Shit, this was really Hard-core. He even caught a glimpse of the young woman from the store the other day, and he swore she was looking back at him. Now his mouth was really Dry.

Mrs. Johnson came to the center of the stage and looked at the now quiet congregation, and held up a microphone, saying, "Ladieeeees....what do we want?"

"Cock!" They thundered.

"I can't hear you!"

"COCK!" They yelled louder, even the little girls.

"And where can we find it?"

"RIGHT HERE!" They called, cheering and going wild. Was that a God-damned pom-pom?

"And who gets to get it?"

"We Do!" a special crowd of women called, filtering out of the audience and taking up in front of the boys. Stan couldn't believe that he saw his own mother standing before him, a sly grin on her face, knowing full well what she was about to do. At the spot a few from her was Chrisse, eyeing her own son. He speculated that each woman facing each boy was his own mother, though some looked old enough to be their grandmothers, Nate's certainly did.

"Moms, approach your sons!" Mrs. Johnson called, and Rachel moved up close to Stan, and for the first time he noticed she had a large paddle in her hand, bouncing in up and down. And...were those holes in it? Fuck. Double Fuck, even.

"Boys, get up, and spread those tight little buns!"

Stan felt himself compelled to rise, but his mom had to spin him around, setting his hands against the back board of the chair and his feet against the legs, bending him over so that he created a nice little cleft in his buttocks, showing his stained cornhole to all the cheering women, who let out a new whallop. Oh God, he could feel a blush in his ass now!

"Get ready..."

Rachel set up her arms to proper whipping position, gauging the amount of force it would take to hit him just right. She hadn't seen him this naked in ages (Neither had Illya's for that matter) and she was enjoying every inch of it. He looked so much like his father.

"On your mark..."

She took a few practice swings, the board grazing the edge of his soft white buttocks.

"GO!"

Rachel hammered away at her son's tush, the cheeks reverberating with each strike, the pain radiating into his hole. Each pounding thrust sent shivers up his spine, shaking his whole body and racking him with pain. He tightened his grip on the chair, but it did little to ease the sensation of each burning contact, every stinging blow that seemed to rend the flesh from his softness. He gritted his teeth, tighter and tighter as it went on, squeezing his eyes shut, feeling the sting of tears but not giving into them. She kept wailing, harder and harder, even getting him in the groin once, but he still wouldn't burst a tear, though a long breath seeped out of his lungs. He glanced around, seeing Illya staring straight ahead, his lips pursed up but hardly showing off any emotion. Maybe he was used to it by now. Nate didn't even seem to care, though there were a couple of other guys who were already crying from it. Oh well, he wasn't. Not yet.

The assault lasted for ten full minutes, and when the buzzer sounded every boy crumpled into his seat, grateful to feel the cool metal against their burning bottoms. Was that it? Please God let that be it...

While they were all taking a breather, sucking as much wind as they could, Mrs. Johnson announced, "Are you boys comfortable there?"

"Yes," any who could reply, did.

"Good...then maybe you'll wanna stay there!" She pushed a bottom, and two arm claps jumped up and secured them to the seats, as well as two leg clamps along the bottom, spreading their dicks out further than they should be. It was only then that Stan felt his mother's hands on his shoulders, wondering why she was behind him.

"What do we want?"

"Cock?"

"What?"

"COCK!"

"You heard 'em ladies...give 'em what they want!"

Stan eyes got big as Rachel's hands began to slide down his body, caressing his nipples and his muscle-less physique. He felt her face close to his, and looked over, asking, "Mom...what are you doing?

"Just hush. This is part of it."

"But...Mom..."

"I can make this hurt as much as I want. Now hush." His gaze shifted over to Illya, who's mom was doing the same, even planting kisses on his cheeks. Every other mother seemed to be reaching for-Holy God, what was that? He looked down and saw his mom was running her hands over the soft area just above his dick, involuntarily throwing him into contractions which sent his pelvis thrusting forward and pumping blood into his dick. She slowly reached down, planting a couple of kisses on his cheeks as her thin fingers cupped his balls and began to slide up and down on his hardening organ. "Mom, mom, you can't-this is-wrong..."

"Oh hush, It's not like I can get pregnant from doing this. Now just hush up or I'll put you through the ringer." She bent her head down and sucked on one of his nipples, forcing more and more blood into his cock and erecting it to its full height. It would be bad enough if she saw him like this, but just the fact that she was doing it!

"Mom, please, I've learned my lesson, we can go now--!"

"You think I'm gonna give in? This is only the beginning!"

Stan's mouth was very dry.

She had moved her body to the side, so as to squat comfortably while giving the audience a full view of what she was doing. He glanced over to see that Chrisse was doing the same thing. Family ties, right?

As he felt the embarrassed pleasure absorb him down there, he began to look at his mother as a woman for the first time. He had seen photos of her in her youth, and it was little wonder his dad had snatched her up. She was a beautiful brunette, maybe not prom queen, but a subtle kind of beauty, with more baby-faced soft and round features...not to mention pretty big tits and a fine ass. She still retained most of it, though after forty-five years and three kids the cold hard world was beginning to show it's due. Still, she could easily be mistaken for thirty-five, and looked even younger today. Wait, was he attracted to his own mother? He glanced over at his aunt, Chrisse, who had the sharp-bird like beauty of the son she was masturbating, and hadn't lost much of it through two kids and thirty-eight years. She had a smaller, more delicate body that hadn't been too engorged by her pregnancy, but it would have satisfactorily...if she wasn't his blood kin!

Illya was pleading in much the same fashion he was, though to no similar avail. He glanced down at his own mother, working her feminine wiles on his cock. "Please Mom...I won't...don't let me cum..."

"Oh I won't...not yet, anyway." She was gripping his shaft and rubbing her thumb on his head, even sticking a long nail into the hole periodically, getting a shudder from Stan. At one point she bent down and kissed it, the resulting thrust putting in a little into her mouth, where she ever so slightly worked her teeth on top of it. Stan could feel the tears on both ends coming up, but he wouldn't, couldn't, give in, and just bit them back, continuing his pleas of mercy.

Several times she brought him to the edge, and each time she right when to slow off, letting him have a sense of false hope, praising thanks unto her whenever she did, but she would soon start back up, trying new and wild ways to get him hot. She even kissed him directly on the lips, and he noticed her lips were heated. She was getting a sexual arousal out of this!

Soon the horde of women started chanting "Cum...Cum...Cum..." and it grew faster and louder, all of them standing up and beating their bodies to the rhythm. Rachel's pulls began to sync up with it, moving like a locomotive as they women shouted: "Cum! Cum! Cum! Cum!"

"Mom, please, no, not here, not anywhere, I'll do anything, Sell my xbox, sell my soul, sell my grades! Just don't, mom, please,dont,Icantitscumingitscumin--*!"

As his pelvis thrust forward his cock erupted, spewing white goo in every direction, amid the thunderous applause of the crowd. He screamed in agony and ecstasy, his body twisting and contorting in every fashion, the white babies oozing down his shaft and onto his mother's fingers. He had about five heavy spurts that went up into the air, as well as three little ones that just filtered out all over the two of them. He was sucking it a shuddering breath as the crowd calmed down, looking at the mess she made. Would he have to clean it up?

He glanced at his mother, as she stuck a semen laden finger into her mouth and licked off the sperm of her own son, ingesting it so it would course throughout her body.

"Ooh, you're babies taste good sweetie. Why don't you have some?" She reached over and drew a little mustache across his lip. His first instinct was to wipe it away, but the chained arms prevented that. He thought about licking it up, but realized that's what they wanted, to reduce him to nothing more than a lap dog, so the only thing he could was endure the cold stickiness. It would dry soon, but not before drooping over his closed lips. He glanced over at Illya, and saw he had one too. He was mad.

Even further beyond him he saw Nate, with a few tears streaming down his cheeks. Damn.

"Okay, I think we have to give our boys a little rest now..." Mrs. Johnson announced, getting a massive Boo! From the audience. That meant it wasn't over. What the Hell was next?

Rachel reached down and flipped his dick a little, almost chuckling at the smallness of it now. He wanted to rip free of his bonds and rip her damn head off, but he made no move too. He suspected something dark was brewing in Illya's mind, and had no idea the ten year was contemplating the rape of his mother.

It was a couple of minutes before the mothers came over with glasses of Orange Juice, deliberately pouring them over the kids so only a little bit entered their mouths, the rest staining their nude forms. It washed away some of the semen mustache, but Stan was sure some of it went down the hatch.

"Okay moms...I think your boys are ready for round two! Why don't you get them started?"

The women assembled a few feet away from their wards, and began to dance toward them, shaking their bodies and jiggling their goods, getting all the way up to their kids and beginning to perform what looked like a strip tease. Rachel grabbed her boobs and began bouncing them up and down just inches from Stan's face, clapping them together to make nice, fleshy smacks.

"You want to see the nipples you sucked on from when you born?"

"Um..." The answer was a desperate yes but he wouldn't admit that.

"Well too bad!" Instead she pressed the soft pillows of indulgence onto his face, wiggling them around and burying him in their warmth. It was hard, but he still managed to not get an erection. She bent down and kissed him, sticking her tongue out and trailing it all the way down his body and into his groin, tracing it around it his bare ballsack and back up again. Just how far was she allowed to go?

Next to him Chrisse was grinding on her son, rubbing her jean-jacketed ass against his dick. He somehow found the strength to not bring it up, but he began to falter when she leaned her large body back against his, pressing her lips close to his ear and whispering, "I used to be a stripped you know. I know how to drive men wild." She climbed up on the chair and thrust her crotch into his face, saying "You wanna lick the muff that bore you?" and pressed it up against him, squezzing her thighs about his cheeks as he felt his hardness growing.

Rachel had slipped her pants down enough to rub her butt-cheeks against his cock. He was already going full blast, but she just wanted to make sure he stayed that way.

"Mom, whatever you're doing...it's scaring me."

"Trust me, this isn't even half of it." She bent in and pecked him on the lips, drawing away as a cart was rolled over to her. It was little more than a high foot stand, a plastic hump on top of long legs, and the boys were unchained from the chairs, flexing their wrists and ankles, and strapped down over the cart, long ways so that their stomachs were pressed into it and their asses were in the air. Stan was facing the crowd, his wide eyes searching the cheering women, ashamed to see that some were hot.

The mothers were handed long plastic dildos, shaped like real pensises. Stan looked on in horror at them, noticing that it was bigger than his own pecker, and what was she going to do with it?

"What do we want?" Mrs. John called.

"COCK!"

"When do we want it?"

"NOW!"

Stan was set a tremble as his mother moved to his rear, and his ass nearly clamped shut when Rachel put her finger son his malleable cheeks. "Un-un, we don't want that now..." She began massaging his ass, loosening his muscles so that his hole gaped before her, and she stuck her thumb into it. Stan drew in a sharp breath, and let it out it brief spurts as she wiggled her digit about, roughing up his rectum and making him want to poo, though nothing would come out. He was shuddering, completely weirded out by the whole sensation, but he was unable to keep his pecker down. Soon she extracted her thumb, and spit on his asshole, plunging her finger in and lubricating the oscillating muscle. He let a gasp of what should have been pleasure, but was pure and unadultered pain. He looked over at his cousin, who was gyrating his head in every which way as his mother finger-fucked his booty. He looked to be on the verge of tears, putting him far above some kids who couldn't stop sobbing.

Soon the index finger was extracted and-Holy God what was that? It was...Oh my God, Rachel has clamped her mouth on his anus, and shoved her tongue into his rectum! Holy shit! His own mother's tongue was rooting around in his poop-shoot, licking the walls and tasting the soft, pink flesh. Oh God, he had wished something like this would happen...from some swimsuit model, not the woman who fed and cared for him! His whole body managed to blush, and he could feel the semen welling up from the pit of his balls. He had to grit his teeth, squeeze his eyes shut, and breathe in through his nose and out through his mouth to keep the tears and jizz at bay.

Soon the mothers stopped their licking, giving the boys a sense of reprieve, but they couldn't see they were taking the big dildos and shoving them in their mouths, lubricating them up with more of their spit. Soon, they slid the big dongs into their son's assholes, moving them in and out at the pace only a woman could achieve.

"Mom..." Stan pleaded, embrassed that the dildo should even feel good, "Mom...this can't be legal..."

"Oh it is sweetie. Look over there, there's a judge, and even a police officer." Stan looked and sure enough, there was some old hag in a robe with a sly smile on her face, not to mention some black-haired beauty with big Dark Eyes presiding over the whole section. Why couldn't she be the one to do it? Anyone but his-Oh God! The dildo had started vibrating, sending rivulets of unholy pleasure up his spine. "I don't know what the big deal is," Rachel genuinely, "Your father does this to me every other Saturday."

Stan panicked eyes directed over to Illya, who was managing to hold it in, though he could tell Chrisse was enjoying every second of making her child suffer. She would even reach under and flick his dick a bit, but it wasn't long before he erupted, calling out in pained pleasure as he did so, his thin goop drizzling to the floor.

After that Stan realized he didn't have a choice in the matter: The slow sliding and vibrations eventually got to him, and his cock fired off, the explosion of semen shooting down to the floor. Rachel left the toy in his ass and bent to lap it up, and when she was finished she remarked, "I'm glad I had sons. Little boy cum tastes so good."

The dildos only lasted for a bit longer, before they were extracted, leaving all the boys pooped. (Some quite literally) Mrs. Johnson took the floor as the mothers assembled at the front of the stage, and said, "Okay boys, that was just to loosen you up." Wait, what? "All right ladies...time for our grand finale! What do we want?"

"Cock and cum!

"I still can't hear you..."

"COCK AND CUM!" They thundered, the cheers alone scaring Stan half to death.

"THAT'S RIGHT! Mothers, start your engines!"

The announcement really didn't make sense, but Stan couldn't care as he saw his mother and aunt pull on some strap-on dildos over their jeans, strutting around with them to get the feel of being a man. They knew how to wear them.

His eyes were the size of saucer plates, and he looked at little Illya, who was pleading with them, the water beginning to form. Illya wasn't going to make this round, but he had to be strong...for the kid...for Himself...

He jolted as he felt the Vaseline caress his butt hole, his mother's finger making sure every drop got on evenly. She used a lot. Next he felt the plastic head knocking on the back door, and soon it was in, followed the first inch of the shaft, and then the second. He was drawing in shuddering gasps as she slid it all the way in, five inches of hard plastic penetrating his small bottom, and words can't described the sound he made as she pulled back out...and went back in. Slowly, ever so slowly, she began thrusting, doing what he had imagined himself doing a thousand times, and making him into a Nancy Boy. She began to go faster, and harder, thrusting the dick into his ass and packing his fudge down, vigorously, powerfully, attacking him with a sexual anger brought upon by years of frustration and repression. He managed to squeeze back the tears, but that drained each and every ounce of will power he had, causing his dick to erupt in a violent spray of nearly clear liquid as he screamed from the bottom of his lungs. Rachel didn't let up at first, pounding away unlike the men she's known, but she eventually slowed down, pulling the dildo out and strutting around her son's face, whacking him a bit with it and saying "Go ahead, taste your ass. Taste it." She stuck the fecal-tasting shlong in his mouth, forcing him to lick all the particulate of waste of until it was shining bright and clear. When She went around to the back, he spit, seeing the little brown objects floating in it.

He looked over at Illya, who had finally broken down, tears streaming from his face as his mother pounded away at him. It was up to him now.

The humping continued, each boy crying out whenever he came, liquid fire jettisoned from between their legs, staining the ground. The women screamed with delight as each one did what they wanted, convulsing and pleading for mercy. The mothers humped and humped, some getting violent, rumors of bleeding even began to circulate. It was a grand orgy of humiliation, the children soaked with different bodily fluids, all except Stan, who refused to give them the gift of tears.

His mother kept humping him, brining him to orgasm no less than three times, but still he wouldn't give in. She tried kissing him and pounding at his eyes, but no matter how tight the pressure became, he would not give in. After his third orgasm, when he was almost spent, she backed off, polishing her own dildo and unstrapping it, looking at her son like there was something wrong with him. He looked back up at her, and smirked.

The guys were unstrapped from their contraptions, and fell to the ground, unable to move. Some girls came up and began playing with the spilled semen, even tracing some of it on their bodies, but they didn't care, they were just glad it was over. They had to helped back to the locker room, where Susan and a dozen like her helped them back into their clothes.

Nate couldn't talk to the two boys, and Illya was strapped back into his handtruck, but he gave Stan a nod, and could almost be seen smiling beneath that mask.

Whatever else the mothers had done here today, Stan had come out of it with his dick held high, proud and untearful.

The End