Another Friday found the auditorium at the reformatory with fewer than the usual number of women present for the morning auctioning of the boys. It was pouring rain and the superintendent attributed the disappointing showing to the weather. Seeing that all were now there that would be coming he greeted them as they sat in the dimly lit seats and called for the matron to begin.

Seated today was a woman in her late thirties by the name of Hilda Hawk, a divorcee with two girls, ages ten and fourteen. Neither she nor her girls liked the fact that there was no man of the house - nothing but the three females. To make up for that, from time to time she participated in the auction to add some male flavor to the home. Child support payments from her ex helped out with this, although she did hold down a part time job as well. Having a boy under her thumb provided an outlet for her frustration with the male gender. She also used them as an educational tool in teaching her girls about the evil ways of the male. The girls loved it. What fun it was to have a boy to torment to the envy of their friends.

The seventh boy offered up this morning was a shy lad by the name of Dickey. He was a skinny, fourteen year old with a look that he was out of place here in the reformatory - in any reformatory, for that matter. His natural shyness and innocent was augmented by the uniform that all the boys wore here - one that resembled a little boy's sailor suit with sailor cap, jumper, kerchief, tight short white pants and long white socks and shoes. The superintendent felt that if the delinquents were made to look clean and neat and innocent, perhaps a tad of that would wear off. Not all here were actually delinquent. The parents or guardian of a few had been taken to Juvenile on thumped-up charges to have the state finish raising them at its expense and time. The orphanage wasn't available since they weren't orphans.

Once the matron had marched Dickey to center stage she had him state his name and age.

"My name is Dickey and I am fourteen."

"Your full name."

"Dickey King."

"And what do people here call you?"

"Ugh . . . "

"So it's really Dick King. Well now, King Dick, are you up here this morning for your regular quarterly outsourcing for home care, or for punishment for a crime?"

"For punishment," he answered quietly.

"Speak up so they can hear you."

"For punishment."

Slap!

"Louder!"

"FOR PUNISHMENT."

"That's better. Now tell the ladies here what you did to deserve being outsourced today."

"I masturbated."

"That's it? You just masturbated by yourself in bed or on the john?"

"I was masturbated."

"So you're gay - a fag - - a queer, Dick King".

"No ma'am, I'm not; I'm really not."

"You don't masturbate yourself?"

"Oh yes, I masturbate myself. Oh yes, I do that."

"And you think that is all right to do?"

"Ugh; no ma'am; I guess not."

"Strip; let's let the good ladies see what a King of the Dicks and champion masturbator looks like."

Well knowing the routine, under the bright stage lights the boy methodically took off his uniform, piece by piece, and piled it in a stack on the floor in front of him with his sailor cap topping it off. Then he slowing stood up with his hands over his privates, facing the audience with his head bowed.

"Hands on your head, boy, and spread those legs."

As he complied his crotch came into full view. Low and behold but there encasing his privates was a chastity belt. Actually wasn't a "belt" wrapped around the waist, but a stand-alone, steel cage only over his male goodies.

The male crotch cage had little, curved, stainless steel bars that were mounted to a rubber-coated split-ring that opened and closed tightly above and about the entire gentiles and which was key-locked in place. The curved bars formed a bulbous section that housed the testicles and a drooping tubular section that housed the penis in a bent-down, accurate configuration which was open at the bottom for pissing. These sections were bare had no rubber coating. In Dickey's case his brown pubic hairs flowered both within and out through the cage much like roses growing in a latticework. He had a thick, uncontrolled brown bush.

"As you can see ladies, King Dick's dick has been placed in isolation. He has worn this for the past several days and we must insist that it stay in isolation while in your custody. So please, don't bid on him if you can't see that this training continues. We will of course provide you with a key for your short term - - your - whatever. But we do feel that it is essential for him to wear this most of the time so that he can learn the merits of chastity and stop acting like a jack-rabbit and tainting the other boys.

"I might add that this particular chastity device is usually worn by our oldest boys - our seventeen year-olds. Let me show you why.

With that she unlocked the ring, pulled off the cage and pulled down his cock. Good Lord; it looked the size of an eighteen year old. To the sound of several gasps from the darkened audience the matron quickly put the device back on whereupon the sound of a lock bolt slamming home was heard. "Sorry for the short display, but in any time at all that creature would have risen out of The Black Lagoon, making it hard to re-cage without an ice cold bath. Now who will begin the bidding on our dick king?"

---

The minibus from the reformatory pulled to a stop in front of the Hawk residence. Beverly, nicked named Bev, the fourteen year old, was there to meet it.

"Is your mom not home," asked the driver.

"She's at work. I'm here for Dickey."

The driver studied the girl for a moment. Lord, he thought, I don't want to have to return one undelivered. So off he sent Dickey in his sailor suit like uniform with his duffle bag over his shoulder just like a sailor boy.

"Sign here, Miss."

Knowing the routine, she signed the receipt for one "boy," without hesitation.

"Here's the key to the Kingdom," he said as he handed her a six inch ring with a key. "The key to Master King's Kingdom, you might say."

"Oh goodie," she laughed, mockingly.

"Have fun," he said as he closed the door and drove off.

"Hello; I'm Dickey," said the boy as he looked at the cute, lightly freckled face standing there girl in blue jeans and halter top holding a paper left by the driver and the key to his cock and balls.

"Well I didn't think you were Joe Blow from Kokomo. Follow me Dick King - King of the Dicks. I've heard about you and I can't wait to see for myself," she said as she eyed his bulging crotch there in his undersized white short pants of his sailor-suit reformatory uniform. "Welcome ashore. Been sailing much lately, King of the Dicks? And just where abouts are the Dick Islands? I've never heard of them. Do they speak Dick there? Or do they just suck Dick all day?"

So much for the small talk, he thought.

"I'm not gay. It's just that . . . that . . . I'm a little different. You see . . "

"I will see. I can't wait to see your King Kong, Master King. Mon's told us about it."

"Us?"

"I got a little sister. Well, she ain't so little any more. She's ten."

"And you?"

"Fourteen; but enough of the questions; mom want's you presentable when she gets home. So git along little doggy."

Bev led the boy still carrying his duffle bag inside and up the stairs to the "guest room." The boy sighed in relief when he saw that it was, by and large, an ordinary room and not one of those little torture chambers that some of the bidders at the auction had. I say "by and large" because there were a couple of differences, namely restraints for the hands and legs chained to the bed and a chain suspended from the ceiling to the bottom of which were mounted a pair of handcuffs. Also noticeable was the fact that it was decorated as a girl's room with pink everywhere - pink bed, pink dresser, a mirror with a pink frame and pink walls. Even the toilet paper was pink. The fifteen year old boy took it all in, but didn't comment.

"Shall I unpack?"

"Nah; not enough time," she responded while not being able to take her eyes off his bulging crotch. He laid the duffle bag on the bed.

"Gotta cuff you now," she said as she pointed to the suspended cuffs. "Hands behind you back, please."

"But why?"

"I already done told you - to have you presentable when mom gets her. Mom's orders; you don't want to piss her off after she's just paid good money for you, do you?"

Oh well, he thought as he took up a position by the dependant chain with his hands behind his back.

With a "Click - click" his hands were cuffed. Then he watched the girl, who was a year younger than him, walk to the door and push the top of three buttons there on the wall next to the room light switch. The sound of a small motor was heard from above as the chain began to be winched up.

The boy looked back over his shoulder to see the slack in the chain slowly being taken up. Then he felt initial tension on his cuffs which were down by his butt. Even so slowly he felt his wrists begin to be lifted. He looked at the girl who only smiled as the sound of the motor continued with her finger on the "up" button.

For the first time he felt fear and realized that in an instant he had been placed under the control of this girl. The sound of the motor continued as his hands reached a point mid-level with his back.

"Please stop," he quietly begged. The girl blew his a kiss with her free hand. Just at the point where he would have had to start bending over she hit the stop button. He exhaled with relief.

The girl went to the dresser and pulled a straight back chair over in front of him and sat down She unbuckled his white web belt, unbuttoned the top button above his fly and then unzipped and pulled his white shorts down to his shoes. Richard looked down on her as she put her thumbs inside the waist of his jockey shorts. Then, as if opening a wrapped gift, she pulled them down. Low and behold there now was the boy's crotch so punctuated by the stainless cage amidst a forest of brown pubic hair. It looked like some kind of masked gladiator.

"That's King Kong?" Then she examined further to find that his cock and balls really were jammed up in their two bulbous cages. Yes, now she could visualize just how big they would be when released.

She pocked a finger onto his prick through the cage. Yes, there was no free room in which to roam. She pocked his balls with the same results - hard resistance - no room for them to roam either. Then she noticed a small hinged ring mounted to the key-locked loop. Handy feature, she thought.

Bev put his short pants and jockeys on the bed and went to the closet. Back she came with a pink bar that matched the color of the cuffs on his wrists and those on the ends of this three foot, pink spread-bar. Once his ankles were cuffed the resulting spreading of his legs was just enough to put added strain to his hands and to tense his shoulders a tad. This girl had known what she was doing all along, he now realized. In one way that was good, but in another way, that was bad.

"Hungry? Want something to tie you over?"

So casual, he thought. Eat at a time like this? Was she crazy? "Ugh, no thanks."

"How about some water?"

"Okay."

Bev was back in a jiff from the bathroom with a cup which she held to his lips as he drank. Good Lord; this was like being admitted to a hospital where what you do is controlled by someone else.

The girl put the empty cup down on the dresser and returned. From his slightly stooped over position their faces were level. With his sailor cap still on his head she kissed him with her arms wrapped around his back and one hand holding his neck. In an instant he responded. He eagerly returned her French kissing as his cock tried to rise to the occasion - but couldn't, of course. The tender moment was suddenly halted by the entrance of Bev's ten year old sister, Jaclyn, who was more freckled than Bev and had her hair tied into two side braids with yellow ribbons. She too was in jeans.

"What's that thing?"

"That? That's a chastity belt, for boys."

"What's a chastity belt?"

"That thing, there."

"Does it hurt - pinch?"

"No; it just keeps him from getting a hard on."

"Too bad; it should pinch. What fun is that? And where is his collar? I can't find it. All I found was the dog leash.

Good Lord, Charlie Brown, thought Dickey as he sized up the little freckled face twerp standing there with a dog leash.

"I don't know where the collar is but you don't need it. You can clip the leash onto this little flip-ring here - see?"

"Neat!" she said as she walked over and clipped the leash to the ring on the crotch cage. Then she led out three feet of leash line and pushed the hold button for the dog leash was one of those retractable types.

Dick looked down at the ten year old in disbelief. Now he was under her control too.

Jaclyn looked up at him with a sweet little smile. "Come on doggy," she said as she pulled the leash taut and took a step back and pulled. "Giddy up."

Dick arched his stomach forward as he felt the pull on the chastity cage about his cock and balls. He now stood with his crotch slightly in front of the spread-bar and his shoes with his cuffed hands still held up behind him, suspended from the ceiling chain.

The girl continued to smile. "Come on doggy; let's go."

With that she gave him a jolt which caused his sailor cap to fall off as he was forced to take a step forward or fall and have his shoulders jerked up behind him.

As Bev looked on little Jaclyn started to walk around in a circle giving little jerks on the leash. Each jerk on his cock and balls forced one of Dick's feet to move in a pivot because of the spread bar. With his hands cuffed behind him, one of his shoulders would also be jerked.

Round and round the little she-devil walked in a circle of a larger diameter than that which Dick wobbled along. Quickly a sustained cadence was reached. The girl moved in a counterclockwise direction which resulted in Dick's right foot only intermittently making contact with the carpeted floor and with his left foot having to hop, all because of that damnable spread bar. Simultaneously his cuffed hands would be jerked and his right shoulder raised in response as he tried to keep standing. Each time he felt that he was beginning to fall his hands and shoulder would be jerked again in preventing that and he would have to make another hop on his left foot.

"Ring around the rosy; pockets full of posies," the little bitch sung as she enjoyed her little game. Then she reversed her walk and started going clockwise. Billy tried to keep up and just as he had adjusted to this new direction she reversed again.

"Ring around the rosy; Dickey's full of posies."

The boy adapted as best he could to the jerks on his cock and balls, his hands and shoulders, and his hobbling on his spread-apart feet.

Next the little she-devil passed the leash between his legs and took off in a new direction which the lad had to now follow, now being jerked backwards. The little bitch didn't know it but this was actually easier on the boy than being jerked forward by his cock and balls.

As this game was being played out Bev had been going through the boy's stuff which she had emptied from his duffle bag and spread out on the bed. To her disappointment she found nothing out of the ordinary. Just as she had finished putting them on the dresser, in came the girl's mother, Hilda. She looked at the scene and laughed. With the boy's sailor jumper and kerchief in sight, she broke into song too.

"Anchors aweigh, my boys; aweigh away" - - - - - "Ring around the rosy; pockets full of posies - - -" "Farewell to college joys, we sail at break of day ay ay ay ay" "Pockets full of posies." Quite a duet. Bev laughed.

"I see that you girls have already met Dickey-Wickey. He's something; huh?"

"We haven't met all of him yet," answered Bev as the little she-devil stopped her walk and dropped the leash. "Here's the key; and here is his receipt," said Bev.

"Good. Put his things over on the dresser. He can put them away later. Let's get him on the bed for a little coming out party. And take the spread-bar off."

In no time the boy lay spread-eagled, face-up on the bed, still wearing his jumper and kerchief, socks and shoes and with two pillows under his butt, raising and presenting his crotch cage. It now unquestionably became the center of attention.

The girls laded down on the bed, one along the inside of each of his widely spread legs with their heads raised up near the boy's privates by their elbows. The coming-out party was about to begin. What a thrill; what excitement; what fun. Lift the gate to the lion's den and let the beast out!

Hilda looked at the elevated crotch. She was displeased.

"That forest is disgusting. Aunt May has invited us all to dinner, and you know what a stickler she is. I'm afraid we have a major deforesting job on our hands."

"But the creature there waiting in the forest," cried Bev; "can't we take a look?"

"The cage has to come off anyhow for us to deforest. So of course you can look. Hand me the key."

Hilda inserted the key into the keyhole on the loop and turned it. The loop slid open as its two tongues slid apart. She removed the key, unclipped the leach and pulled the cage off. There before them lay a squashed mass of male meat, looking like some weird Japanese seafood at the market. But then it began to show life as it unraveled.

Bev looked at it with rasp attention. "It looks like a baby creature from the Black Lagoon."

Hilda and her two daughters stared at it. The unraveling continued as the cock and balls became distinct. Then the cock began to uncoil as it smelled the scent of females in the fresh air.

Six female eyes stared intensely as the cock grew and straightened out. Once completely straight it didn't stop moving but began to rise. The two girl's mouths opened as the serpent rose and rose as if being called out of its vase by a squatting Indian guru to the sound of his flute.

Dickey looked at his spellbound audience. Had he been an actor on stage he would have been so satisfied; but alas, he wasn't. He didn't want his cock to do anything at all but to lay passive. Being an attention gatherer was the last thing he wanted. Unfortunately, the cock danced to a different tune - in this case, one of an old Indian flute melody to entice a cobra to appear and rise - a melody which only the cock could hear.

In no time the cock got into its full stride. It assumed its full girth and five and a half inch length, pointed up at the ceiling as if seeing the bright shining light of glory. Even Hilda's mouth opened in rasp amazement. Now all three female mouths were wide open - as were their eyes. Then the silent moment of rapture was shattered as Jaclyn started to clap her hands in applause.

With all now jolted out of their trance the other two joined in the hand clapping as they collectively laughed. But none had the courage to touch this revived creature, now risen from the deep. Dickey might have considered joining in the applause save for the fact that he was cuffed, spread-eagle with his privates raised up on high by the pillows. One could safely now say that his privates were no longer private.

"Girls, we got our work cut out. This forest must be denuded, and denuded at once. Bev, go and get a couple of tweezers from my bathroom."

In no time flat the girls went to work de-feathering the young rooster. Bev had one hand around the base of the boy's pecker and with her other began to pluck out three or four pubic hairs at a time. Young Jaclyn however was less professional. She would cast a broader net by randomly putting the tweezers down into the forest and jerking to see what came up, like casting a net for fish.

One would have thought that this would have caused Dickey's dick to come out of its lustful, flay-pole stance, what with all that plowing going on all about the roots, but no; it remained ramrod straight in self-pride as the harvesting continued unabated.

"Oh - ooo - ouch - oh - OH! - ooo - no - OUCH! - - - - - - - - - - -"

"Oh shut up," said Hilda. "Girls, I'm going to make myself a grilled cheese sandwich for lunch. Want one?"

"Yes, Mama."

"How about you, Dickey; want one?

"OUCH - - OH - - - oh - - - ooo - - - yes - - - OH!! - - - OUCH! - - - ma'am - -Oh - -"With chips?"

"Yes - - -OOOOH! - - - NO! - - - ma'am - - -ooo - - - oh!"

"And a pickle? Or are you in enough of a pickle, already?"

"No - - -OOH! - - - ouch - - - NOT THERE! - - - OOO - - - ouch - - - thank - - OH! - - - you - - -oh - - - no - - - ma'am - - OW!!!."

"I'm tired," said Jaclyn. "Can't he do this?" The fun had now gone.

"Good idea," Hilda responded as she un-cuffed the boy's hands and passed Jaclyn's tweezers to him. "When you're finished, spray some of our - antiseptic - you know, over the area. Don't want any infection."

"The green one?"

"Sure; why not," she said with a knowing smile. "It's a salve and not a spray, but it should work just fine."

As Hilda left with her younger daughter Dick sat up and joined in the labor. There was still a lot of work ahead.

At first Dick had thought that it wouldn't be as bad if he was doing the plucking. It didn't work out that way though. It was just as biting, having to do it himself.

With him now in a seated position on the bed but with his legs still spread-eagled, his cock now pointed up and away, straight at Bev who still had a grip about its base. Oh how he wanted her to start moving her grip up and down along his shaft but no, she just kept holding it without movement until the time came to pluck the area beneath her hand.

Bev released her grip there only to exchange it to a grip of his balls. Now while squeezing his nuts she plucked away around the base area where her hand had been before.

"So tell me why you are here on punishment." Pluck pluck pluck pluck.

"They found me in another boy's bed."

"Was he in it with you?"

"Why sure."

"Were you sucking him off or just jerking him?"

"NO! Neither. See he was - is - bigger than me. He'd heard I had a big one and wanted to check it out. He was trying to lay mine side by side his - to measure, you know, when in walked the monitor. Then he yells out 'Get out of here. I'm no fucking fag.' Can't you believe that fucker?"

"So you like girls?"

"Why sure - of course."

"You like me?" PLUCK!

"OUCH! Well, sure, I guess so." PLUCK! PLUCK! "Hey; that hurts."

"Good!" Pluck - pluck - pluck - PLUCK-PLUCK-PLUCK.

"How are you two coming along, up there," called out Hilda from downstairs.

"Not much longer, Mom," Bev responded.

"I think we're done," said Dickey.

"Yea; I think that looks good enough," she said as she lifted up and got off the bed. "But we got to get your Wiley back in its cage. How are we going to do that?"

"I know how; never fails," he answered as he puckered up his lips and looked down at old faithful there.

Bev actually considered that for a moment but then decided not. "No, I don't think sucking you off will do it. No, we need the salve."

With disappointment, Dick watched as Bev left the room only to return right away quickly with a jar of what looked like green petroleum jelly and a brush. She stood over the bed and looked down at the boy still sitting there spread-eagle with his cock ramrod stiff.

"I can't do this with you like that. Lie back down."

He did so and put his hands behind his neck. Thank God that was over, he thought. Then she took one of his hands and started to cuff it.

"Why are you doing that?"

"Hush, cutie," she said as she gave him a sweet kiss on his cheek, " 'cause the ointment may - you know - sting a bit." Dick shrugged his shoulders as he took in her sweet smell. A moment later he was only again fully cuffed spread eagled.

Bev went to work with the ointment. She dipped the little brush in it and brushed it all over the just -denuded areas of his crotch. This wasn't bad, thought Dick; it was kind of cool and soothing. But then she started brushing his balls with the goo. Why was she doing that, he wondered? Then she sent to work on his cock, coating the entire shaft but leaving the head alone. Oh well, cleanliness is next to Godliness.

"It shouldn't be too long before we can cage the beast and get you fed," she said as she left the room with the jar and brush.

After putting it back away she went downstairs to the kitchen. She found her mother serving up the grilled cheese sandwiches.

"What do you think of the new one," asked Hilda.

"He's got a big one," answered Jaclyn. "Think he's really gay?"

"No way," answered Bev.

"Now how would you already know that, girl?"

" 'cause."

"Hey," came a call from Dickey.

"What did you use? The eucalyptus?"

"Yep."

"That's a good-un. Stings like hell."

"Help down there. I need help. That stuff is stinging."

The girls chuckled a Hilda smiled.

"Pass the coke."

"HEY. I'm burning up, up here. I tell you I'M BURNING!!!"

"Burning - burning - burning," sang Jaclyn.

"Great balls a-fire," chimed in the mom.

"Please help me. Get this stuff off. PLEASEEEEEEEEE!!

"We'll be up in a few minutes. Just wait for God's sake. We're eating down here, called out Hilda."

"Aaaaaahhhh." PLEASE!!!"

"Don't be impolite. We're having lunch. Now shut up - up there," responded Hilda.

"Think he's down yet," she asked Bev.

"I'll go look," she replied as she took a big bit of her grilled cheese.

"If he is, put it back in its cage."

Beverly found Dick whimpering and sweating as he tossed about in a frenzy on the bed with tears running like a faucet. And yes, he had gone limp. She wetted a towel and cleaned him up. Back again went the cold steel cage over his cock and balls and locked snuggly in place.

"God, what a cry baby you are," taunted the girl. "You're really a wimp. No wonder you're a frigging fag." With that done she un-cuffed one of his hands, leaving him free to undo the other three cuffs.

"Get dressed and get down to the table in five minutes max. Mon's already mad at you for being so impolite as to do all that baby yelling while we were eating. You can't help being gay, but you sure could learn good manners."

---

"Should I take my cap off," he asked as he entered into the kitchen-breakfast room.

"Right; put it over there. At least you know that much about good manners at a dinner table," responded Hilda.

The boy did so and took the empty seat there before the waiting sandwich.

"Coke or iced tea?"

"Coke, please ma'am," he replied with redden eyes.

Hilda and the girls watched him attack the grilled cheese in silence until he had started on his second half.

"So you got caught at it," finally asked Hilda.

"Yes ma'am."

"Was he buggering you?"

Munch - munch. "No ma'am."

"So you were just sucking him off at the time."

Munch - munch - munch. "No ma'am."

"He was sucking you off? Pickle; want a pickle?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Did you cum?"

"What? Oh, yes I want a pickle. No, I didn't, you know, cum. I'm not gay."

"But your papers say you are. Was that incident the only thing that got you classified as queer?"

"Just about."

"Just about?"

"Well, there was that evaluation report."

"Evaluation report?"

"You know - when the nurse talks with you."

"And?"

"She wrote down 'latent homosexual tendency.' But I'm not latent."

"Do you know what latent means?"

"Ugh; no ma'am."

"But you just sat there and denied being latent. So you are a liar. So you are a queer - a queenee."

"No ma'am."

"How long have you known that you were a faggot? Have any brothers?"

"I'm not - not - a faggot."

"Are you a dom or a sub?"

"Ma'am?"

"Queer - queer - queer," said Jaclyn as she rubbed one finger upon another at him, mockingly.

"What a frigging fag," said Bev. "You know he's the sub."

"Maybe we can help with your problem. Bev; are you game?"

"Lost cause, I think. He's a fucking fag all right."

"I'm not gay," he said in resignation as he pushed his finished plate away.

"I don't want to hear that big fat lie out of you again. Do you hear me, young man? I've already caught you lairing when you said you weren't latent only then to say you didn't know what the word even meant."

"Yes ma'am."

"Now, are you a fag?"

"Ugh; yes ma'am."

"Do you like being a fag?"

"Ugh - ugh - yes ma'am."

"Do you have many faggot friends?"

"No ma'am."

"It's a shame that you are a friendless faggot because I was going to let you and Bev have a little fun together upstairs in private, if you get my drift," she said as she gave Bev a wink.

"Maybe I'm both," he asked with encouragement as he smiled at Bev with lustful hope and felt his cock call from its cage.

---

After lunch Dickey was sent up to his room for a nap followed by some study time. The reformatory required that homework be done while any boy or girl of theirs was outsourced.

As he put his clothes away in the dresser and closet he found both to be filled with girl clothing, but mostly pink. There were pink panties and bras of various sizes, pink skirts and tops, and even a half dozen pink high heel shoes and pink socks and stockings. It wasn't until four o'clock when his quiet time in the pink room - the one reserved for outsourced girls - and the rare fag - ended.

"Have a good rest," asked Hilda as she entered, unannounced.

"Yes ma'am. Thank you."

"Do you need anything?"

"No ma'am."

"Now this evening we are all having dinner over at my Aunt May's house. She will be the one to beat you this evening so that we don't have any problem when the inspector from the reformatory comes by. You know that I would be in real trouble if he were to see that you weren't punished. The only way he can confirm that is to see a well beaten butt. I'm afraid that having been teased or tied all up and such wouldn't work because there would be no proof, no evidence - just words. You do understand?"

"Yes ma'am."

"I heard of one bidder who hadn't beaten her charge. She showed the inspector a stack of papers where the boy had written 'I need a good spanking.' Wasn't enough; there was no evidence as to who wrote it, the inspector said, even though it was in a child's handwriting. She was suspended for four months from the auctions, poor thing.

"Aunt May has some young growth, fresh green bamboo stalks that she is just dying to put to use. The only really good use for that is beating butt. You see she had an abiding interest in all things bamboo. She has bamboo walls, curtains, blinds, chairs, tables and decorations; all kind of things made of bamboo from small, still growing ones in soil to large, harvested ones. She has stacks of dry beige ones in vases that are good for whippings as well as wet ones soaking in brim. She's even been known to sell some of the stuff on occasion. I'm sure you'll find your visit most interesting and at the end of the day, most memorable."

"Yes ma'am."

"There is another thing that she likes. She wants, no requires fags to come cross-dressed as a girl. So tonight you'll be dressed up all pretty-in-pink, just like this room here. See, we save our Pink Room for our gay visitors when we don't having girl visitors. Not often though that we get a faggot. Hopefully I'll see the day when your stay here will be in the Blue Room, but that's a long shot, I'm afraid."

"But, I'm . . . . . . . . . . . "

"Yes?"

"Ugh, yes ma'am."

"Good. For a moment there I thought you would once again try to deny the obvious and really piss me off. Now take a bath - there is no shower in our gay room but there is bubble bath soap. The girls will be up after a while to dress you. You'll find some perfumes over on the dresser. Pick whichever one you like, but double up on the portion. We want you smelling nice and sweet, all evening."

Dickey drew a nice hot bath. Given the opportunity he even made it a bubble bath. What the hell, he thought. When would he have that opportunity again? That way he didn't have to look at his cage, nor at his now baron skinscape above and about the cage.

The bubbles brought back an old memory of his mother taking a bubble bath and having invited him to join her. He must have been five or six at the time. Then he wondered: Maybe I am gay? Is it possible?

He searched his memory to find a boy, any boy that he had ever been sexually attracted to. Nope; none; only girls came to mind. Then the most recent girl came into focus: Bev. In an instant he felt his cock fill and press against its cage submerged in the warm, soft bubble bath. So much for his little self-checkup; the lab results had come back negative.

Dick had just dried off and was putting on his jockeys when in came the two girls. Jaclyn had two pink bows in her hands, one little and one big.

"Take those back off," ordered Bev. Now what torment is she planning, he wondered. As he did so Jaclyn pinned the small bow onto the cage ring and stood back to admire it.

"Your panties and training bra are in the top drawer." And so it went as they dressed him and applied his makeup.

The girls were quite pleased with the finished product as they watched him look at himself - herself - there in the mirror. From top down there was the larger ribbon, the rosy cheeks, red lips and eye shadow, the light pink blouse and darker pink skirt, pink stockings and high heels. Yes, Aunt May and Mom would surely approve.

A short time later Hilda called out from downstairs. "Time to go, girls."

Down the stairs Dickey went, carefully negotiating the steps in his foreign and strange feeling high heels, with Bev giving him a hand. With Hilda standing at the bottom of the stairs Bev stopped Dick two steps up for an examination. Mom approved.

"Good job, girls. You do do this nicely. Turn around Dickey. Yes; yes; Aunt May will approve. One final powering and off we go."

"I'll get it," said Jaclyn as she took off and retrieved a bowl powder and a brush.

"Hold your skirt up, girl. Now pull down her panties."

With that done Hilda brushed powder from the bowl all over Dickey's crotch and cage, even applying some to the bottom of his ass. Then she added some to the inside of his panties which were being held up below his privates by a spread of his legs. She handed the bowl and brush back to Jaclyn and pulled the panties back up. I didn't know girls did that, Dick said to himself; so much to learn.

With a "let's go" Dickey dropped and smoothed out his skirt and away they went with Dickey pretty in pink, with the two girls in their designer jeans, and with Hilda wearing a blue skirt and patterned blouse.

They had no sooner left the house than Dick's crotch began to itch. It's that powder, he realized.

He started to squirm as he sat there in the back seat with Jaclyn. She pretended not to notice. His squirming increased as the itching intensified. Finally he went to put a hand under his skirt to scratch.

"Slap." "Be a lady, Dickey. You are now a girl and girls don't scratch their pussies."

He continued to scratch.

"Slap . . . slap . . . SLAP!"

"What's going on back there," asked Hilda.

"Mom; he's being un-ladylike; he's trying to scratch his pussy."

"None of that, Dickey. Now behave and act your age - like a good girl."

"I can't help it. That powder; it itches. Shit, now it's my ass!"

"Maybe these will help," said Bev as she passed pink handcuffs over her seat back to Jaclyn."

"No - no; I can handle it. Shit! Christ!" as he started clawing on his skirt.

"If he touches his dress once more, cuff him," ordered Bev who had turned her head back to watch.

Dick envisioned being cuffed with his now un-abandoned itching. No way. So for the rest of the drive he just sat there squirming with his hands flailing about. Then slowly the infernal itching began to abate, only to end by the time that Aunt May's big old frame house came into view.

Aunt May was rocking on a glider on the front porch of her old frame home when she saw the SUV turn into the drive. As the passengers de-cared she stood and waved from the porch. Oh how the special guess stood out as she/he walked up on Hilda's arm with the two girls trailing behind. First impressions are so important and this first one was a winner. Ah, it's good to be alive.

"May, I'd like you to meet Dickey. Dickey, this is my sister, Aunt May."

"How do you do," he said in his now manly voice - a rather shocking voice to come forth from this lovely in pink.

"I'm doing just fine thank you, young lady," as she leaned over and gave him a faux peck on one of his over-powdered, rosy cheeks. She had had to lean over as she was quite tall and of darker complexion than Hilda. She wore large black-rimmed glasses with her black hair pulled back and tied in a bun. She radiated both smartness and toughness.

"I hope you had a nice ride over. It's such a scenic drive, isn't it? "

Dickey couldn't recall a single thing on the drive other than that infernal itching and his incapacity to scratch.

"Have a seat everyone. There is some lemonade and tidbits. Of course the bar inside is open for you, dear sister."

"Not just yet," said Hilda as she and Aunt May took side by side seats on the glider. Dickey took a seat on a rocker while the girls went inside to the TV. They already knew enough about him to know what questions and answered would be forthcoming.

"So I understand that you are a faggot, Dickey."

"Yes ma'am."

"How long have you been queer?"

"I don't quite know, ma'am."

"Are either of your parents homos?

"No, I don't think so."

"Do you like being - what do they call it these days - gay?"

"Ugh, no ma'am."

"Are you a sub or a dom?"

"Sub; dom?"

"Oh come on; you know. Do you like sticking it up a boy's ass or having your own ass fucked?"

"Oh. Ugh. Ugh. I guess I like sticking it to a boy."

"Don't listen to him, May. He's a confirmed liar and most assuredly a sub."

"Do you like being gay - having your ass screwed?"

"No ma'am."

"Well perhaps I can help you out."

Silence

"I'm sure he would much appreciate that, May."

"You would like me to treat your unfortunate condition, wouldn't you?"

"Ugh, yes ma'am; I guess so."

"Good, for I have already gone to a bit of trouble on your behave. I've got a fistful of bamboo stalks that I have prepared for you. I hope you appreciate that."

"Ugh, yes ma'am."

"You have been caned with bamboo before; am I not right?"

"I think so. It was quite a spell back."

"Then I don't think you have, for you would have remembered it, even from a long spell back."

"Yes ma'am."

"Let me give you a little explanation as to how my therapy works. It's really simple. We give you looks at cute boys and girls. When you are sexually aroused at the sight, smell, touch of a girl, you only get a light tap of approval on your behind. When you are sexually aroused at the sight of a boy - wham! Pretty simple, wouldn't you agree?"

"Yes ma'am; I guess so." This will be easy, he thought.

"It's like training mice, you see. Which door has the cheese and which doesn't? If mice can learn, I'm sure your pecker can too. Of course we can't expect much out of just one session. No, it does take a number of sessions before you can be expected to be cured of this diabolical disease, but with each session your body adapts more and more. Your pecker learns to like girls rather than boys. It's a mystery as to just how this all works, but no more so than practicing the piano teaches the hands to play by muscle memory without conscious control from on high."

This woman is smart, Dick said to himself. What is she; some kind of professor? Only problem is that I don't have the disease. Maybe I can show her a fast cure.

Not likely.

"Martini, May?"

"Don't mind if I do."

"Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"

"Doesn't what?"

"Martini May. May-be I will start calling you 'Martini-May'."

"If Bloody Mary was a grand old gal, I guess I can live with Martini-May."

"Get the drinks girl while I check this here girl out. You did bring the key?"

"Here you be. And here's her leash too. Oh, and I'd better get a damp towel. Seems he's allergic to some powders. Then as a boy he's probably never had his pussy powdered. He said that it itched."

"Itched? Hummm. It's possible that that might give us some clue; some dermological connection here. Interesting - and challenging."

"Okay, let's see what you have down there, young man."

Dick stopped rocking. "You mean?"

"Yes, let me see your stuff. Let's strut your stuff."

Feeling that he was now beyond further intimidation, Dickey complied. He stood, dropped his drawers and stood in front of Aunt May as she swung on her glider.

Again she looked him over from head to toe. Still there of course was the big pink bow on his head, his overdone, made up face that was looking to one side at nothing, his pink bra, pink stocking and high heels. And, of course, his powered caged privates with the small pink bow.

"I'm done, Miss May," came the voice of a man as he came out of the house, swinging open the screen door. "Oh, sorry; hope I'm not interrupting anything here," he said with a smile as Dick's head turned to see the man who had just come out on the porch in workers coveralls.

"Not at all. Here, meet Dickey."

"Hi Dickey; give me five," he said as he held up his worker's hand.

Dickey let one hand go from his skirt and gave him a manly high-five. Quickly he re-grasped the skewed skirt, holding it up high for Aunt May's further inspection.

"Nice cage. Don't remember seeing one like that. Most have a belt, you know. Hey, I heard you're queer."

"Yes, sir."

"Honk," came a sound from a passing car which had slowed to a stop in front of the house.

"Hey there, Maybelline; come on up for a jiffy. I want you to meet Dickey here."

Dickey felt as if he were about to have a heart attack. Enough, already.

"Sorry, I'm late already."

"Won't take a moment."

"Sorry," she replied as she drove on with another tap of her horn.

"Nice ass too, I bet" said the worker. Nice and virgin-like. Yep, them bamboos are going to work just fine on. They are for him, correct?"

"Two olives, right," said Hilda as she handed her aunt her cocktail.

"Now don't you worry about cleaning up; I'll be back in the morning and vacuum. I'll dust too, if you like. I don't mind dusting. I ain't no fag."

"You don't have to, but okay; that would be nice."

"No problem; I have to clean the aquarium anyhow. Good evening, folks. Let me hear how Dickey took to the bamboos, ya hear."

"Speaking of cleaning up, here is the wet towel," said Hilda as she tossed it to Dickey. Second time today, he realized.

The boy caught it midair and rubbed it all over the cage and up between his ass cheeks. Then Hilda unlocked the chastity cage for Dick to complete his clean-up. He lowered the chastity device to the floor, finished cleaning and then dropped the towel beside it. He looked to his host for further instructions.

"Let's have a look. Show me your stuff."

Dick lifted his limp cock, turned it from side to side and then presented his balloon balls.

"Impressive, but what a waste, only to service some other boy's waste-thrum. Okay, put it back in its cage. I've seen enough," she said as she slid an olive off its toothpick into her mouth. "Nice and clean too; hairless. Guess he shaves himself to attract the doms."

"Oh no; we plucked him clean, just for you."

"Really now; how thoughtful of you. Plucked, you say?"

"You don't want to do his therapy now," asked Hilda. "He can't be caged for that, I wouldn't think."

"What do you want, boy? You want the bamboo now or after dinner? It's so nice out here now I kind of hate to leave."

"Whichever."

Aunt May looked at her sister who returned her look as she lifted her own martini in a toast. They both then realized that they had drunk very little, thus far. There was so much in the air about.

"Okay; after. Put your cage back on. You can go look inside at the aquarium if you want - and at all the bamboo."

---

The dinner went along just fine. It was as if nothing out of the ordinary in the least was afoot. The two sisters ran their mouths gossiping and the girls giggled ever so often at some pleasantry. The big, pink bow on Dickey's head kept everyone in a good and light mood. It seemed to serve as sort of a centerpiece as it moved about with movements of his head. Even Dickey seemed to enjoy the meal. Indeed, the only odd thing was when he spoke and the voice was that of a male.

They adjourned to the living room, all in a good spirits with a full belly. It seemed that Dick had even adjusted to being dressed all pretty in pink.

Hilda took a seat on the sofa facing two chairs in which the girls would sit and serve as a panel of judges. Between the chairs stood a triangular stand which supported a stack of posters, each of which either a picture of a male or one of a female was taped. The outer one simply read: THERAPY FOR THE FAGGET CHILD.

Hilda took a sip of the coffee that she had brought from the dinner table and put it down on a small side table. She looked around and noticed two large vases in each of which some twenty-five or so stalks of bamboo strips were decoratively displayed, grouped as a fan. There also were two smaller vases of much smaller strips of bamboo, about four feet in length, stood. In one they stood dry while in the other they were soaked in brim. They looked so innocent but for the tell-tale vacuum cleaning standing there. Ah; the good life she thought as she recalled how the show was to be conducted. She watched Dickey as he roamed about the unusually decorated room.

Actually the program this evening was simple. One by one the girls would lift off a poster to reveal the one behind it. If the poster pictured a female to which Dickey's dick responded with favor by becoming aroused, Aunt May would merely give Dickey a light tap on his butt with her bamboo strip and say "good boy." If his cock didn't respond and remained limp, then she would say "bad boy" and give him a swat. Conversely, if pictured was a male and he was aroused, again as evidenced by the condition of his pecker, he would be proclaimed a bad boy and receive a swat - and so forth. Simple psycho-social training, much as one would train a mouse to react to cheese in a training maze, for the male cock had about the same level of intelligence as that of a mouse. Well, perhaps not quite that much.

The girls' jobs were to act as judges. If his cock went the way of a bad boy - of a fag - they were to render their verdict with a thumbs-down. If it didn't go up upon seeing a female, they would also give a thumbs-down for being a bad boy. All of this was rigged, of course; it was a cock and bull set up from day one, set up as elicit entertainment - a charade. Unbeknownst to Dickey, the deck was stacked.

In came Aunt May who took Dickey by the waist, all friendly-like. Quietly she whispered some pleasantry which caused him to smile. This lady was so, so smart. He had heard that she even had a diploma from junior college. Wow.

"How about some soft, background music?"

And so sophisticated and refined.

"As bamboo is the featured attraction tonight, I think something oriental music would be in keeping."

"Please," begged Hilda; not that.

"No Chinese, then perhaps some soft harpsichord; some Bach."

Yes, so refined!

"We better get everything in order now, for the judges will soon be here."

Judges?

"Dickey, I want you to put your skirt, blouse and panties there on the sofa. You can leave on your training bra."

With his smile now gone, he complied. Then he just stood there in his pink stockings and high heels - and cage - not knowing what came next.

God he is cute, thought Hilda - and Aunt May - as he stood there with no direction, still wearing that big pink bow in his hair and his overdone makeup.

"Okay; now I want you to come and stand here in front of the poster stand. Good. Okay, judges; your court is ready," she called out.

As the two girls came in Aunt May called out: "ALL RISE. COURT IS NOW IN SESSION."

Hilda looked up at her. "Just kidding."

"Oh."

"Prepare the defendant; make that the patient."

Jaclyn jumped into one of the chairs while Beverly, having been duly prepped, went to the caged cock and knelt down. She unlocked and removed it and transferred the small pick bow from it onto Dickey's dick with a rubber band passed over the head of his cock. She checked; yes, the bow stayed in position on top of his cock just behind the head. Dickey looked down without much reaction. He was far beyond being further humiliated today. In some weird way he felt that he had somehow become a member of the family. Bev took her seat.

The soft but incessant harpsichord played on.

"Okay; now spread your feet. More; a little more; thank you." That he was wearing heals made this difficult for he had to bend his knees to have both the heals and soles of his pink shoes flat on the floor. "Now put your hands together behind your bow - I mean your head. Good."

With that done she walked to the vase and selected a stout, dry bamboo stalk that was split in two near its working end. She presented it to Hilda and the two judges for approval. Finally she presented it to Dickey for his approval.

"Look at it, boy."

"Do you approve? You can see that it's not all that stout."

"Yes ma'am."

"I'm glad to hear that. Now look at the poster board. I want you to keep your eyes focused there. Do you understand?"

"The vacuum cleaner, there."

"What's that? Oh that; don't worry about that. The man you met on the porch will be vacuuming up all the little splinters and shreds and dust flake in the morning. No, you don't have to worry your pretty little head about that. After all, in addition to being your therapist, I am your hostess.

"Now the therapy session this evening is simple. You and your male friend down there will learn just as children have been trained through the ages - to the tune of a hickory stick, with the exception that it's bamboo instead of hickory. One by one you will be shown pictures of males and females. You little friend down there is to be trained to react correctly like any healthy heterosexual male should. Hopefully, this will be the beginning of your long, uphill path back to good health and redemption. Okay?"

Dickey nodded and in doing so saw that his cock, with the small pink bow mounted atop it, was limp.

"Good. Then I'll take up my position. May we have the first picture please, judges."

The dreadful harpsichord music continued on.

The two girls held up the first poster. It was a picture of the Wicked Witch of the West from The Wizard of Oz. Dickey looked at it in disbelief. His cock showed no interest and remained limp. The girls moved the picture closer and held it. He looked down at his pecker. It still showed not the slightest bit of interest. The girls put it back on the stand and with a reluctant sigh gave a thumbs-down.

"Splat" went the half-inch think stick of bamboo into his ass.

"Wrong reaction, Dickey; that was a female."

The girls pulled up the next poster. This one was of a stern old mother superior holding a large ruler, menacingly. No reaction. Aunt May lifted his pecker with her bamboo stalk and let it go. Back down it fell. Again, two thumbs-down from the girls.

"WHACK!!!" Aunt May had swung the relatively small bamboo as hard as she could into the boy's ass cheeks. A six inch length of its split end flew off and onto the Oriental rug. A couple of small shreds clung to one of his pink stockings.

"Noooo!" He couldn't believe what had just been a sweet aunt could possibly be doing this to him.

"I told you Dickey that you are to show arousal upon seeing the weaker sex like any normal boy. Now concentrate. As they say, no pain; no gain. Look at the picture more thoughtfully. He did so; the picture remained. So did his cock.

"SWAT - SWAT - SWAT."

Aunt May looked at the girls who were watching his cock. They shook their heads.

Next presented for his consideration with a picture of a six year old girl sitting in a Calcutta gutter holding out a beggar's cup. Her face was sad and filthy. Tension in the room grew as everyone waited for his reaction as the harpsichord music softly continued. Nothing.

"Hold it closer. Perhaps if he looks deeply into her longing eyes; you can see that she is longing, can't you. Surely you can see that she wants something from you."

The girls held the poster closer only to have Dickey turn his head aside. Quickly Aunt May grabbed his head and turned it back to see the poor beggar girl.

"Are you trying to ruin my hard work here? That breach of discipline just cost you," she said as she flung her splintered bamboo strip onto the floor. "You will now receive two penalty strokes with the soaked bamboo stalks, just like they give young vandals in Singapore."

Aunt May took a serious looking long, thicker strip of bamboo from the vase that held the brim. She swished it through the air causing some of the brim to fling off. The girls returned the poster girl to the stand and looked at his pecker. Still limp. Jaclyn shook her head. Aunt May didn't pay them any attention because these were to be penalty strokes.

With the wet stalk held high up over her shoulder she sprung forward and delivered a mighty blow with her forearm diagonally across the boy's ass. Before giving him time to realize just what he had received she was back again into a run-up with the soaked bamboo high over her head and delivered another crippling blow with her backhand - another diagonal one that crossed the other. Dickey's shriek reverberated throughout the house.

His hands flew off his knees to his stricken ass. He started to run in circles, screaming with his hands gripping his ass. One of his pink shoes came off which caused him then to wobble as he ran in circles in his pink stockings on one shoe.

Hilda let this play out. She knew he had no control, what with the two crippling blows she had delivered with the serious bamboo rod.

His dance of agony slowed. Aunt May took him by the arm.

"If you don't want any more penalty strokes you best behave." With that she put him back in position and had Bev remove his other shoe for added stability.

Bev looked at his face. The flow of tears had now ruined his makeup. His cheeks were streaked, his lipstick smeared,, and his eye shadow no longer a shadow but rather a curtain. Bev thought that Aunt May might end it now, but no. After she had returned the two bamboo stalks to the brim vat she took another dry one to continue the therapy.

Next up was a picture of the cutest boy of about seven. In the middle he was pictured looking meekly up into the camera holding out a cup as had the little girl from Calcutta. It was a takeout from the movie version of Dickens's Oliver Twist.

Dickey looked through his veil of tears trying to focus. Slowing his mind left its concentration on his firry ass to the face of Oliver. He had found a companion to share in his despair. His cock noticed too. To his horror he felt it begin to harden. Bev too noticed this sign of life returning. Together she and Jaclyn moved the poster closer to Dickey's face. To Dickey little Oliver seemed to be saying I know your sorrow. I feel your pain. We are brothers. His cock began to rise and rise.

"No! Don't! STAY! DOWN," he yelled at his rising cock which could care less about its instructions.

Now ramrod hard the cock looked up at him as if to say just who do you think is the boss here. Hey, that kid there is cute.

Dickey looked down at his rising dick. "No; NO. STAY!!"

The two girls giggled as they returned Oliver Twist to the stand. They wanted to give a thumbs-up in triumph but quickly realized that that wasn't the correct judicial call. Two thumbs went down, just as Nero would have done.

"I hate to interrupt but I need you to give me a hand here," she said to Dickey. Together they carried the vase with the dry, split-ended bamboo stalks closer and into position where a new one could be taken right after a frayed one had been discarded.

"You, young man, are a very sick boy. I'm now doubling your prescribed dosage. Hilda now assist. She will act as nurse's aide."

Under the watchful gaze of petite Oliver, Hilda, who had been quietly enjoying the show from the sofa, stood up and took a stalk from the vase The two ladies took up their positions. Hilda took forehand and Aunt May took backhand. There would now be a flurry of bamboo action with the thinly sliced stalks that worked over an ass more like a birch as opposed to a rattan cane. There would have been no way for the boy to have held position had the ladies been wielding rattan canes.

" SPLAT" "SPLAT!" - - - "SPLAT" "SPLAT!!" - - -

The double thrashing continued unrelentingly still under the sight of the pleading Oliver Twist and to the music of Bach. Bits and pieces of shredded bamboo went flying about into the air, onto the pink stockings, with larger strips and shreds falling on the Oriental rug. After four or five double-swats there was a brief pause as shredded stalks were replaced with a fresh ones. A dust cloud materialized.

"It's going down."

Both Hilda and Aunt May went around, bent down and looked. Yes, it was now passing half-mast. "Yes, you are right, Bev," said Hilda.

Dickey cast his tear soaked eyes down to see the four female down studying his privates. He started sniffling thinking that maybe, just maybe, it was over. WRONG.

The dick descent came to a halt just past half-mast. His cock started straight out from home base, but its outer half drooped, as if it were sad.

"It's stopped," said Jaclyn.

"I see that," said doctor May. "But I'm encouraged. Getting him to a.c. / d.c. is progress. Yes, bisexual is clearly an improvement over homosexual. I think the treatment is kicking in. Yes, this is most encouraging.

"Girls, put your chairs her facing back to back but spread apart. Dickey, I want you to bend further over and place your forearms on the seats and grasp their edges. When the body reacts favorably to medicine, you increase the dosage. That's elementary - Chapter One.

"Good. Now Jaclyn, you squat down and keep your eyes on the witness - you know, his pecker. Bev, you handle the posters.

"Dickey," said Aunt May in all pretended seriousness, "please try to concentrate and stop lusting at the boys; lust after the girls."

All he could do in reply was to nod his head as his tears continued to flow and drop onto the Oriental rug.

"Next."

This poster had a girl of about his own age. She was skinny as a rail in rags in a Nazi concentration camp.

No reaction, other than dismay.

Hilda and Aunt May waited as they looked at Jaclyn who sat there on the rug between the two chairs, looking from side to side at his cock. Then she looked up into Dickey's pleading eyes, pleading both to his cock for it to rise and to Jaclyn not to give a thumbs down. She looked up, smiled and eagerly gave two thumbs down.

''SPLAT" - "SPLAT" - - - - - - "SPLAT" - "SPLAT" - - - - - - "SPLAT" - "SPLAT"

"Next poster, please."

This one was of the cutest preteen, sandy-haired boy with no pants, a small cock and balls, with a meek look on his face as he offering up his butt to a punishment paddle to the camera. Dickey looked at it and quickly turned his head away. Too late; his cock had seen it. Up it went and down went Jaclyn's thumbs.

Another vigorous double thrashing followed as the air quality in the room deteriorated as more airborne dust was generated.

After two more stalks were ass stripped and consumed Aunt May brought forth two more fresh ones and called for the next poster. It was one of sweet Aunt Jemima with her pancakes. With his ass aflame and Jaclyn looked up into his still tearing eyes with her sweet, facetious smile, Dickey's cock responded by going limp, of course, just as Dickey himself had pre-dicted it would.

Another vigorous, double thrashing followed.

The next poster was a take from the movie David Copperfield. It was the scene where the sweet little boy was facing a caning to be conducted by a tall man formally dressed in Victorian black. As he looked he felt his cock began to fill and expand and rise once more. He looked down at it and Jaclyn. "No - please - don't do this to me." His cock ignored this request of its so-called master.

Another vigorous, double thrashing followed. The air quality declined further, but the harpsichord played on, unrelentingly.

The next poster, which would turn out to be the last one, was that of a nude on a beach. No, not one that one would ordinarily expect to see. This one was of a three hundred pound woman sitting at the water's edge with her fat legs spread wide apart to present her massive, black bush with sea water nipping at it. Her humongous boobs fell down over her triple stomach almost to her massive thighs. She apparently could care less about her appearance for she sure looked happy. She held a Red Dog beer in one hand as she gave a big, broad smile at the camera that faced her and her black bush. The smile revealed her yellowed teeth, the ones that she still had, that is, because three were missing.

Dickey's cock did a nose dive into the sea.

Jaclyn gave a thumbs-down.

Aunt May and Hilda gave a final but still vigorous double thrashing.

"I think that is sufficient for his first therapy session, don't you, Hilda?"

Hilda stood back and looked. There stood Bev ready to pull up the next poster as Jaclyn sat looking up at Dickey's cock and face. The boy's ass was a redden mess with little flicks and shreds of bamboo stuck to it here and there and to his pink stockings. The Oriental rug was covered with bamboo shreddings. Slowly Dickey turned his head and looked up at her.

"Yes, I suppose so, but I think we need a hair dryer to clean him up a bit. I don't want my SUV to get dirty," said Hilda.

"No problem. The vacuum cleaner there has a mobile attachment. I use it for the car. Here, I'll get it."

With that she vacuumed the boy's back and ass and legs. He gave little cries as the vacuum cleaner extracted bits of bamboo that had stuck to his beaten-raw ass cheeks. When a few didn't come out Hilda said to leave them for she had tweezers back home. With that done she had him re-cage himself.

Both the ladies and the girls took a studious look at the final results. Other than the single text question that he had been given partial credit for, and pronounced a possible a.c. - d.c., the boy had flunked all. And his ass showed it.

His entire rump was a mass of tenderized, roughen, thrashed, scratched, dark red meat. The only distinguishable specific feature of his ass-scape was the Singapore X. The boy had failed to answer - respond- to a single other text question correctly.

Hilda sent Bev for a wet towel to clean up his face and neck with all that ruined make-up all smeared about. Then they adjourned to the front porch. It was now night.

"Well, overall I think that went rather well, don't you, Dickey," Aunt May asked as they all stood on the porch preparing to leave.

The boy looked at her and then at Hilda and the two girls. They all had such sweet smiles.

"Yes ma'am," he mumbled. "But . . . "

"But?"

"The test was too hard. The girls weren't cute or pretty; just the boys."

"Yes, we all saw that you were attracted to the boys. Therein lays your problem, of course. But we shall keep working on it. We want you to succeed, really. I'll beat that olde devil out of you yet. Call it exorcism by bamboo.

"When does he go back to the reformatory?"

"Next Monday."

"That soon? Oh, my; that's not much time. I tell you what; let's do this again next Sunday. And since I'm feeling confident that you are making some progress, you can wear your reformatory uniform - dress yourself as a boy. How about that!"

"Yes ma'am; thank you ma'am."

"But we really do need three sessions. Third time is the charm you know, and I do want next Sunday to be charming. How about your inviting me over to your place before that, Hilda; say Wednesday night."

"Why of course. That's the least I could do, what with all the work you did for us tonight."

"Great. Yes, Wednesday is great for I want to bring a friend, if you don't mind."

"A friend; for Dickey's therapy?"

"Not exactly. You know of Big Jim's Gym for Ladies, the one over in Coverton?"

"Not really."

"Big Jim has this gym of his where he also is a masseuse. He's gay as a lark can be but gives divine massages. The ladies adore him. He is muscular, but not like one of those muscle men. No, she swims a lot and has beautifully flowing muscles in his arms and legs and chest. Of course that's not all that he is big in. You think Dickey's crotch is big with its cage? You ought to see Big Jim in his black tongs - without any cage. Wow.

"Anyway, I've already told him about Dickey here and his problem. Big Jim is just dying to meet him. So I'll bring him along on Wednesday, if you don't mind. It's only fair that we allow Dickey's a little break from his rigorous therapy and reward his efforts at rehabilitation with some quality time with Big Jim. I'm sure he'll give us ringside - make that bedside - seating.

"Now Dickey, I know it's a bit of a drive back. Would you like to go to the powder room before you leave?"

"You have a room for putting on powder? Oh please, not that again."

---

To be continued upon popular demand.