index


Message-ID: <51661asstr$1123222202@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: nialos@yahoo.com
Mime-Version: 1.0
NNTP-Posting-Date: Fri, 5 Aug 2005 01:59:15 +0000 (UTC)
User-Agent: G2/0.2
Complaints-To: groups-abuse@google.com
Injection-Info: g47g2000cwa.googlegroups.com; posting-host=71.80.1.116;
   posting-account=rbcflg0AAACYNrM68pD62TXuH5QfPzLK
Subject: {ASSM} TBC4: Taking Back Control Part 4 (multiple FM/mbg, torture, cbt, extreme, spank, mast, humil, nc)
Lines: 1362
Date: Fri,  5 Aug 2005 02:10:02 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

TBC4: Taking Back Control Part 4 (multiple FM/mbg, torture,
cbt, extreme, spank, mast, humil, nc)
by Nialos Leaning

nialos@yahoo.com

CAUTION! This story tends toward the extreme side and may be
too intense and/or graphic for some readers.

a "Little Boys Shouldn't Be So Modest" story.  For Little
Boys Shouldn't Be So Modest Story Details and submission
guidelines, and to find all of Nialos' Leaning's youth
punishment and sexual humiliation stories, plus those of
selected guest authors, visit the always free
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/nialos/www

Copyright 2005 by Nialos Leaning, all rights reserved.
Permission for noncommercial free (no charge) electronic
distribution and personal use reproduction of this story is
hereby granted.  All such distribution, re-posting and
reproduction must be without alteration of this story in any
way, must include this entire copyright notice, and must in
their entireties retain the following statements:

"This story is intended for ADULTS ONLY.  It depicts preteen
and young teen children of both sexes being subjected to a
new community program involving public nudity, sexual
humiliation, spanking, and other very painful punishments.
If you are not of a legal age in your locality to view such
material or if such material does not appeal to you, do not
read further, and do not save this story."

"This story is pure fantasy, written for the enjoyment of
adults.  Behavior depicted in this story may in real life be
illegal or considered by society to be abusive, harmful,
unacceptable or undesirable.  The author neither advocates,
condones nor personally engages in any such behavior."

"This story, as is all fiction, is fantasy and not reality.
The author does recognize the difference between the two.
Please do understand that some of us, including the author,
enjoy such fantasy material."

"Compliments and constructive criticism are always welcome."

* * *

This story is inspired in part by the story "Pain Factor" by
Platypus available on my site at
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/nialos/www/spartan_boys.html
and by "The Little Boys Shouldn't Be So Modest" stories by
Sir Cum Sizemore available on my site at
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/nialos/www/sizemore.html as well as the
boy spanking stories of Jeffrey R. Keller found at the
Male-Male Spanking Archive, http://www.malespank.net

This story uses some concepts from those stories, but also
incorporates many elements not found in those programs in
order to meet the community's desire to "take back control"
and to lessen their boys' excessive false modesty.  The
characters, settings, situations and overall plot of this
story are all vastly different than those in the stories
that inspired it.

* * *

Taking Back Control Part 4
by Nialos Leaning

a "Little Boys Shouldn't Be So Modest" story

"We can't go to church like this," twelve year old Josh
Myers protested to his mother.

"Yeah," agreed his sister, ten year old Julie.  "It has to
be a sin to be naked in church."

"I'm sure Father Timmons wants people to wear clothes at
mass," Josh pressed his point.

"You are wearing clothes," responded Mrs. Myers, indicating
her son's shirt and daughter's sun dress.   A bright red
shirt emblazoned "public property" that did nothing to cover
Josh's abdomen or his exposed bottom and hairless slightly
bigger than little boy size genitals.  A very short yellow
dress that only covered the otherwise naked Julie from just
below her flat chest to just above her waist, leaving her
bare bottom and bald pussy on full display.  Complementing
their outfits, each sibling wore a pair of knee high socks,
red for Josh, yellow for Julie.  Both sported red bands on
their left wrists, signifying their status as community
property.

"Josh, come here," demanded his father, police Lieutenant
Tom Myers.  A newly appointed lieutenant newly in charge of
the newly created Parental Enforcement Patrol that assisted
parents in enforcing rules for their children's behavior and
modesty.

"Please, dad, no," begged Josh, sensing trouble as he
spotted the tube of lotion in his father's hand.

"Now," barked the lieutenant, in full police officer mode.
"We've warned you that any protesting would mean additional
punishment."

"Daddy's absolutely right," Josh's mother supported his
father.

"I think," said Tom, "that this cream from Kippers is just
the ticket. Honey, would you do the honors?"

"Of course," replied Beth Myers.  Josh's face grew redder
and redder as his mom massaged more and more of the cream
into his small dick and balls.  "Now, young man," she
admonished her errant son, "I don't want to hear any more
complaints about you being naked and community property."

"But, mom," the already crying Josh replied, penis hard from
his mother's ministrations, "it'll be too embarrassing to be
like this in church.  The mall was bad enough."

"That's too bad," mother informed son, "I've told you
before, and I don't want to have to tell you again, little
boys shouldn't be so modest."

Josh was about to voice an unwise retort when the cream's
effect kicked in.  "Ow, ouch, yow, get it off, get it off,
it's burning me, it hurts!"   Retort forgotten, the hapless
preteen launched into an energetic dance, hands quickly
flying to genitals in a futile attempt to ease the
suffering.

"Hands away," demanded his father, "you know better than to
cover up."  Moving quickly, Tom Myers pulled Josh's hands
from his painfully burning dick and balls.  Just as quickly,
the determined father was securely holding the boy's hands
behind his back.  Beth handed her husband a pair of cloth
cuffs, red to match his church clothes.  Cuffs that very
shortly were on Josh, denying him any use of his hands for
any reason.

"What is that stuff?" asked the sobbing Josh, still wildly
dancing, genitals furiously bouncing in a comical show for
all to see.

"Oh," said his dad, "it's nothing more than the same stuff
athletes use for muscle pain, first it's cool, then it heats
up."

"It's killing me," shouted Josh, the acute pain not abating
in the least.

"No it's not," said his mother.

"Says right here on the label," informed his dad, "harmless
for external use."

"Harmless," screamed Josh, "it hurts almost as much as that
penis grill thing."

"Well, it does also say," said his father, "causes an
intense burning sensation and extreme pain when applied to
genitals according to label directions.  Also says causes
prolonged arousal."

"That means," his mother helpfully explained, "that you're
going to have a hard on for some time to come."

"Julie protested too," the continuously gyrating Josh
demanded equal justice, "how come you didn't use any on
her?"

"I've told you before," explained his exasperated mother,
"that girls don't need as much punishment as boys."

"That's right," confirmed his father, reciting almost
verbatim from the training manual.  "Boys defy and resist
adult authority much more than girls, and usually much more
seriously so.  They just don't make good choices and
therefore get into trouble.  That's why we parents are all
taking back control of your behavior."

"It's still not fair," Josh voiced his opinion, "I'm old
enough to make decisions about what I wear and do."

"No you're not," declared father to son.

"Your behavior the last few days proves that," added his
mom.

"Time for church," announced Tom, ending the discussion.
"We don't want to be late."

"With luck," said Beth without really meaning it, "the cream
will wear off enough that you won't have that little hard on
of yours when we get there."  Josh blushed once more at this
deliberate calling of attention to his erection.

* * *

"That was so embarrassing," Josh complained to his parents,
"being naked and having a boner in church."

"Complaining again, Josh?" his dad asked as the family
entered the Community Support Center.

"No sir," the preteen wisely answered, "just saying."

"That's good," said his mother, "because any more complaints
and I'll ask the CSC folks to give you additional days on
the spanking machine."

"Which also means more naked days for you," added his
father.

"Oh good," said Beth, pointing toward the waiting area, "the
Barringtons are here already."

Thirteen year old Brady's sparsely haired genitals, somewhat
larger than Josh's, were painted green, matching his short
shirt and socks.  A green shirt that, like Josh's, hid
nothing from navel downward.  A shirt reading "squeeze here,
hard" on the front and "insert finger in hole" on the back,
pointing arrows leaving absolutely no doubt as to where to
squeeze and where to insert.  The red faced boy sported a
full erection, the tip slightly glistering in the light.

Like his older brother, nine year old Blake wore a short
shirt that left his hairless little boy genitals and bare
bottom exposed.  His bright pink shirt, arrows pointing to
the target areas, encouraged one and all to "feel here" on
the front side and "spank here" on the back side.  His
nipples and surrounding flesh peeked through cut out holes
two inches in diameter.  He too had an erection, his little
dick pointing almost straight up.  A little dick that was
colored a bright pink, as were his small balls.

Eleven year old Brooke had her own problems.  Her small just
beginning to grow breast buds poked through holes in the top
of her pants set.  A pants set with a missing mid-section,
the top of the bottom half ending just above her knees, the
bottom of the top half ending just above her navel, leaving
her hairless pussy and naked behind on full display.  Thin
strips of cloth running up the side of her hips connected
the bottom portion to the top.  Small arrows repeatedly
pointed to all her interesting, and usually private, areas.
Areas that this morning, like the other four kids, were
community property for anyone to touch and fondle.  She
found little consolation that, unlike her brothers, her
genitals were unpainted and she wasn't ticketed for the
spanking machines.

"Blyth," said Beth Myers, "I see you used the coloring
lotions on the boys."

"Sure did," replied Mrs. Barrington.

"We tried the burning cream on Josh this morning," Beth told
Blyth, pointing at Josh's still erect penis.

"How did that work out?" asked an interested Bryce
Barrington.  Bryce was the assistant district attorney in
charge of the Parental Assistance Unit.  PAU worked with
Lieutenant Myers' Parental Enforcement Patrol to enforce
kids' compliance with adult control and adherence to
punishment conditions.

"Let's just say," said Tom, "that it definitely got his
attention."

"It still hurts," Josh affirmed the cream's effectiveness.

"Good, that's the whole point of using it," responded his
mother.

"When did you color the boys?" asked Tom.

"Last night," answered Blyth.  "It was so cute the way their
little packages glowed in the dark."  Brady winced at the
inference that he was "little" down there.  Though far from
older teen size, he was proud of what he had between his
legs, clearly outdistancing both Josh and Blake in the size
department.  And, of the three, he was the only shooter, the
other two boys still being dry cummers.

"The two little girls from next door sure thought it was
funny," said Bryce.

"Daddy!" whined little Blake, blushing pink at the reminder
of the mortifying remarks the two constantly giggling girls,
eight and ten years old, had continually made about his
little pink dick and balls.

"Young man," admonished his mother, "that just earned you an
extra punishment when we get home."

"Speaking of getting home," Tom told Bryce, "I hope they
call us soon.  Kippers should be delivering our new toys in
about an hour."

"I can't wait," the excited persecutor confided to the
lieutenant.  "I ordered some extra stuff last night."

"Me too," said Tom.  "What did you order?"  In low voices,
out of earshot of the kids, the two fathers revealed to each
other the additional punishment goodies they had coming.

"Is that safe to use?" Tom asked in a voice loud enough for
the kids to hear.

"Sure is, if used according to instructions," answered
Bryce.  "To be certain, I talked this morning with one of my
office's consulting pediatricians."

Brady shuddered, strongly suspecting that he wasn't going to
like in the least whatever extras his dad had ordered.  He
knew for certain that whatever it was, it was going to hurt
bad, especially if his dad had to check with a doctor first.

* * *

"It's still not fair," Josh protested, "Julie and Brooke
don't get put on the spanking machine this morning."

"Josh," warned his father, "anymore complaining and I'll ask
CSC to add another day to your punishment."

"Yes, sir, sorry, sir," the twelve year old compliantly
complied.

"Besides," said his mother, "that's the punishment CSC gave
them, twenty-four hours naked time and one trip to the
machine.  Which they had yesterday."

"As we keep reminding you," his father added for good
measure, "girls don't need as much punishment as boys."

Waiting their turn on the spanking machine, the two
Barrington boys and Josh were joined by three other
youngsters.  Next to Brady stood a boy of fourteen, by far
the most developed and genitally largest of the boys, with
the most hair. An eleven year old boy, hairless but with
noticeably bigger dick and balls than Josh, was placed next
to Blake.  The eleven year old's nine year old sister
anchored the end of the line, next to her brother.

"Start jerking off," ordered the Discipline Officer in
charge, "and no stopping until I say so."  All six kids
faces went red at what they were about to do.  While the
command was not unexpected by Brady, Josh and Blake - they
had been made to masturbate before all their previous public
spankings at the CSC - they still found bringing themselves
off in public to be an extremely embarrassing experience.

The eleven year old was the first to reach orgasm, a
spectacularly energetic and noisy dry cum.

"That's an extra day as community property," the Discipline
Officer told the still cumming little boy.

"Why?" the distraught boy was able to gasp out.

"Because you didn't announce you were cumming," came the
response.  "Keep rubbing, I didn't say you could stop."

"But, but," protested the boy, "my mom didn't make that one
of my rules."

"Doesn't matter," the officer informed the now crying boy,
"as of today announcing all cums is a CSC rule for all kids
we make community property."

"I'm cumming," Josh shouted out his own dry cum, complying
with his mom's existing, and the CSC's new, rule.

"I'm cumming," the nine year old girl let the world know at
the same time Blake announced his own foot pounding cum.

"I'm cumming," the thoroughly embarrassed Brady informed all
and one, squirting a few white drops toward the ground.

Seconds later the fourteen year old boy made his own cum
known, copious white gobs shooting out a respectable
distance from the tip of his cock.  Immediately afterwards,
Blake and the eleven year old boy both came again.

"Okay," said the Discipline Officer, "stop now.  It's time
to get you in the machines."

All six were due for a front side as well a back side
spanking.  Quicky they were placed into the special chairs
designed to facilitate such whippings.  Much too soon for
him, Josh found himself strapped in, his widespread legs
pulled up and back, forcing his knees to his ears.  Knees
that were firmly attached to the seat back.  His hairless
genitals, bare bottom, and gaping wide open asshole all
blatantly exposed to the onlookers, and the soon to descend
whips.

"Hey, what about the bags for our balls?" Josh asked as the
technician left him to attend the next victim, Brady.  Josh
hated those bags, they were lined with many tiny spikes that
unmercifully cut and nicked his balls.  But they had been
told it was too dangerous to let the straps directly hit
their balls without some kind of protection.

"Oh, we're not using them today," answered the tech.

"Is that safe?" Beth asked.  "Yesterday they said the bags
were needed for safety reasons."

"Oh, we'll still use them sometimes, just for variety,"
responded the Discipline Officer standing next to her.  "But
we don't need them anymore, the machines now use horsehair
whips."

"I thought they looked different," said Tom, indicting the
thin long stands mounted on the machines.

"Yes," replied the officer.  "Horsehair is very soft, but
stings like crazy.  It doesn't take much of an impact to
make an impact, it you now what I mean."

"Well, I can't wait to see that impact," Tom commented, to
the chuckles of all the adults.

The first impact of the four tails on his bare behind had
Josh howling in pain and anguish.  It felt like an entire
swarm of bees had descended onto his bottom, all stinging at
the same instant.  The next two strikes greatly intensified
the stinging, then the dreaded fourth strike added to the
screaming Josh's agony.  This hit landed squarely on his
genitals, two tails terribly stinging his little dick, two
tails awakening a horrible itching in his small ball sack.
It was as if a million wasps had all decided to practice on
Josh's not very private privates.  He was convinced that his
own ear piercing shrieks, and those of his five machine
mates, could be heard in the next town over.

The fifth stroke gave Josh, and the others, even more agony,
all four tails landing inside their butt cracks, the tips of
two nipping into their assholes.  The stinging just grew and
grew as the cycle repeated itself five times, twenty-five
blows in all, including six to genitals and five to little
anuses.

Once released, all six furiously danced about, hands
desperately trying to rub the intense stinging away.

"You know better than to cover up," barked Tom Myers, now in
his police lieutenant mode.  "Don't make me arrest you, get
those hands off those privates, now!"

"Since they want to touch," said the Discipline Officer, "I
think we should let them.  Start jerking off again, now!"

For all six, masturbating was now pure agony, only making
greater the discomfort in their aching genitals.  But
masturbate they did, until all had again cum.

"Alright," Tom Myers told his family, "lets get on home,
Kippers should be arriving any minute."

* * *

"Bend over and grab your ankles," Josh's mom ordered him,
"and don't move."

As soon as he was in position, Beth Myers inserted her
gloved lubricated finger into his hurting anus.  Josh
grunted in mild discomfort.

"I don't know why all the noise," mother told son.  "My
finger's nothing compared to that," she indicated the thick
nozzle protruding from the bulging red bag sitting on the
seat of a hard wooden kitchen chair.  A bag that Josh would
be soon sitting his already extremely red and sore bare
bottom on.  A bare bottom not only sore and red from his
morning spanking at CSC, but also from a just completed
session on his hot seat.  A hot seat that for five long
minutes "cooked" his behind at 114 degrees Fahrenheit, while
an inch diameter metal dildo heated his asshole to 112
degrees.

"It hurts in there," squeaked Josh, "that thing burned me
bad."

"It may hurt," interjected his dad, "but it most certainly
didn't burn you.  Your seat doesn't get hot enough to do
that."

"All done," announced Beth, "you're nice and slick back
there."

"Okay, Josh," said his dad, "you have thirty seconds to be
sitting all the way down on the bag, the nozzle all the way
up you."

"Yes, sir," replied the dejected boy.

"Every ten seconds longer you take will be five minutes with
the penis grill, so I wouldn't be dillydallying."

"Yes sir," son answered father.

"The count starts now."

The twelve year old positioned himself over the nozzle and
slowly begin descending.  The tip brushed his anal opening,
and reluctantly and hesitantly Josh began pushing his body
downward.  Instant pain blinded him as the bulbous head
started forcing its way inward.  Josh screamed, pulling up
and off.

"Fifteen seconds," warned his dad.

Again Josh tried, again Josh failed.

"Time's up," said his father, "you're in penalty time now."

Gritting his teeth, screaming all the while, Josh again
attempted penetration.  This time he made a determined
effort not to give in to the pain, a pain made worse by his
asshole already having been scorched by the hot seat.  The
nozzle punched through his anal sphincter, intensifying his
screaming.  Ever so slowly he went down, until finally his
sore bottom contacted the somewhat hot bag, renewing the
agony in his already roasted behind.  His screams reached an
even higher volume of anguish.  He started lifting up off
the seat, in an effort to take some heat off his hot seat.

"I keep counting till you're sitting, and stay sitting,"
warned Tom.  "You're now up to ten minutes of grill time."

Josh went back down and stayed down, although too slowly to
avoid additional penalty.

"You have fifteen minutes total of grill time," Josh's
father advised him.  Deciding to make it easier for his son,
Tom cuffed the boy's hands behind his back.  He cuffed
Josh's ankles to the legs of a low stool positioned in front
of the chair.  Now it would be very difficult for Josh to
push off of his latest torture device.  Reaching underneath
Josh, Tom released the nozzle's valve.

Immediately, propelled by his own weight, the warm soapy
water shot up into Josh.  He screamed some more.  And more,
and more, as the irritating mixture more and more annoyingly
worked at his insides.  Before he had taken the full quart,
the cramps set in.  Josh's screams were now shriller than
ever, his urgent begging to be let up completely ignored.

Ten minutes of severe cramping later, Josh was finally
released to rush to the toilet room adjacent to the kitchen.
"You don't let a drop come out onto my floor, or else,"
warned his mother.  Fortunately for him, he made it to the
porcelain throne of his relief without soiling his mother's
floors.

Staggering out of the bathroom, Josh was informed by his
father that he would get a little break before his next ride
on the enema bag.  A five minute break of his little dick
sizzling on the grill.

"No dad, not that, please," pleaded Josh, vividly
remembering from yesterday the extreme pain the penis grill
would cause his little penis, still somewhat sore from the
cream and the horsehair whips.

"Yes, that," Tom Myers responded to his son.  "In the next
few days, you have three sessions of five minutes each
coming your way, so we might as well get started."

And get started they did.  Josh was secured onto his hot
seat, metal dildo uncomfortably stretching his hurting hole.
A hot seat that fortunately his dad did not activate,
instead electing to use it as a convenient restraint device.
As the delivery men from Kippers had explained, the chair
was not only good at cooking little bodies, it was also
great for restraining and for time outs.

Quickly the grill was secured on Josh's lap, his soon to be
hot dick firmly pressed to the surface by the two sliding
side plates and the top plate.  Minute by agonizing minute
the pain grew agonizingly worst, the penis grill grilling
his penis hotter and hotter, tenderer and tenderer, sorer
and sorer.  Josh's screams filled the house, his terrible
day becoming even more terrible.

Finally the bell sounded, signaling the end of his five
minute ordeal.  Once released from the grill, Josh was again
amazed that his sizzled dick wasn't a blackened charred
ruin, but rather just an extremely red, extremely sore penis
sporting several blisters, including one right on the head.

After Josh calmed down a bit, his dad announced, "Okay, time
for enema number two."

"Please, dad, not again," begged the sobbing boy.

"Yes again, and again.  You're getting three more of them by
bedtime tonight."

"Daddy, no!" Josh shouted his horrified protest.

"Daddy yes," replied Tom Myers to his son, "and this time
I'd try not to earn anymore penalty penis roastings.
Because I will award them, you know how much I like hot
wieners when we have cookouts."

* * *

"Looks like you have your first customer already," Blake's
mother commented, pointing to the ten year old girl walking
up the street toward the naked nine year old boy standing on
the sidewalk in front of his house, hands behind his head.
"You know what to do when she gets here."

"Please Marcie," begged Blake, "will you rub my privates and
make me cum?"

Marcie hesitated, looking at Mrs. Barrington comfortably
seated on a lawn chair.  "Can I, really?" the girl asked the
boy's mom.  Like most kids in the neighborhood, she knew
that the three Barrington children were under naked
punishment and were community property.  But with Blake's
mother sitting right there, community property or not, she
was afraid of getting in trouble if she touched without
permission.

"Of course you can, dear," said Mrs. Barrington.  "He is
community property, you don't need my permission."

"I know that Mrs. Barrington, I just didn't want you to get
mad at me," replied the little girl.

"I won't be mad at you, I promise," responded the bare boy's
mother.  "Besides, this is punishment for mouthing off this
morning.  He has to get three people to jerk him off to
orgasm."

With that encouragement, Marcie went to work on Blake's
small hairless genitals.  She quickly had him hard, and
within another minute energetically dancing to a powerful
dry orgasm.  "I'm cumming!" he shouted out his required
announcement for all the block to hear.

Shortly after the smirking Marcie departed, a twelve year
old boy approached, accompanied by his fourteen year old
brother.

Again Blake did his begging.  "Please, Frankie," he
requested the younger boy, "jerk me off, make me cum."

"It's okay boys," interjected Mrs. Barrington, "it's a
punishment for him."

"Can I spank him while Frankie jerks him?" asked the older
boy.  While not a bully, Charlie did have a reputation for
at times being mean spirited.

"Go for it," approved the beaming Blyth Barrington.

Frankie began jerking, Charlie began spanking.  Pleasure
from Blake's front side mixed with pain from his backside,
as the two grinning brothers continued their assault upon
the naked nine year old.  Tears and howls of pain mingled
with moans of enjoyment as the little boy approached yet
another dry cum.  A dry cum even more spectator than the one
before.  Between sobs, he managed to croak out a not so loud
"I'm cumming!" to the amusement of the two older boys.

Frankie and Charlie thanked the smiling Mrs. Barrington and
the crying Blake for the fun time and continued on their
way.  In the next twenty minutes Blake, bare bottom and bare
dick both red, begged several neighborhood boys who
singularly and in groups wandered over to see his public
display.  All declined, declaring that they weren't gay and
didn't do other boys.  Blyth held her tongue, but couldn't
help thinking that if any of those boys ended up community
property, they were in for a very rude shock.

Finally, after about twenty-five minutes, Blake had his next
willing "customer."  A young teenage girl rapidly
approached, hurrying along two naked boys busily
masturbating each other.

"Remember," the girl admonished the rubbing boys just as all
three came to stop in front of Mrs. Barrington, "no cumming
without my permission, or you both get spanked."

"Well, well, what do we have here?" asked the grinning
Blyth.

"Hello," replied the girl, "I'm Jackie and these two jerk
offs jerking off each other are my brothers Danny and
Stevie.  As you can see, they're being punished."

"Yes, I can see, and I definitely approve.  Boys, how old
are you?"

"I'm ten," answered Stevie.  He was classic little boy
between the legs, hairless dick and balls just slightly
larger than Blake's.

"I'm twelve," came Danny's curt answer. He had a plump
little ballsack the size of a small plum.  His dick,
however, was still little boy size, not much larger than his
brother's.  Above his genitals, a dark dusting of very short
pubic hair formed a very narrow band less than a half inch
wide.

"And for the record, I'm fifteen," said Jackie.

"For the record?" enquired the amused Blyth Barrington.

"Yes," replied Jackie.  "Seeing as you're new to the
neighborhood, my mom thought you might still be looking for
a babysitter."

"Actually I am," admitted Blyth.  "Do you have much
experience besides watching your brothers?"

"Since I was twelve, I've been the regular sitter for
several families around here.  I'll be glad to give you
references."

Just then Danny screamed out, "Fuck you Stevie, you've
making me cum, you asshole." Danny was doing a foot stomping
dance, a few clear droplets of liquid glistering on the tip
of his cock.

"Spankings, both of you, now," proclaimed Jackie.  "And
extra for you Danny for your language.  And more extra for
not properly announcing you were cumming."

"You don't seem to brook any nonsense from those two,"
commented Mrs. Barrington.

"Like I said," Jackie explained, "I have experience.  And my
family has been into the whole 'little boys shouldn't be so
modest' thing and embarrassing naked punishments long before
the new law.  My mom and dad were on the committee that
wrote the law and the rules for it."

"Oh," said a surprised Blyth, "perhaps my husband knows
them.  He's in charge of the Parental Assistance Unit at the
district attorney's office."

"Our family name is Kipperson," informed Jackie.  "I think
you met my grandfather at Kippers yesterday, he's the
manager."

"So that's where the store's name really comes from,"
commented Blyth.

"Yes," answered Jackie, "the Kipperson family is the proud
owner and operator of Kippers Punishment Emporium."

"Wonderful job you all do," complimented the pleased Blyth
Barrington, "we're very happy with our selections."

"Speaking of selections," said Jackie, "I need to use this
on the boys."  She pulled a small paddle about the size of a
good hairbrush from her purse, waving it at the two still
masturbating boys.  Numerous short pointy spikes protruded
from the business end of the ominous looking torture device.

"You're welcome to come in the house, I want my husband and
other two children to meet you."

"Thank you," Jackie graciously replied.

"But first," continued Blyth, "Blake here has to find his
third customer."

"Customer?" questioned the Barrington's soon to be
babysitter.

"As extra punishment, Blake has to get three kids to jerk
him off to orgasm," explained the blushing boy's mother.
"Go ahead Blake, ask her."

"Please, Jackie, will you make me cum?" Blake again went
into his begging act.

"Be glad to," Jackie again graciously replied.  Quickly, she
grabbed the nine year old's dick, beginning a slow steady
rub.  "No need to rush it," she commented, "we have plenty
of time."  For seven long minutes, she kept up the slow
pace, bringing Blake agonizingly close to orgasm, but not
letting him actually go all the way.

"Please, Jackie," begged the now crying Blake, the agony now
too much to endure, "let me cum.  Pretty please, please."

"Oh, okay, if you insist," came the cavalier reply.  With
that, the girl's hand picked up considerable speed and
force.  Within a minute, the blissfully uninhibitedly
dancing Blake was shouting out a joyful, "I'm cumming!"

* * *

"Honey, I want you to meet someone," said Blyth as she
entered the house accompanied by Blake and the three
Kipperson children.

"Just a moment dear," answered Bryce, "I only have a few
more to get."  With that, Bryce lowered the tweezers he was
holding back toward Brady's groin.  The naked Brady was
secured to his hot seat, a hot seat that was set to warm his
bare bottom and rectum to a somewhat uncomfortable but not
unbearable 107 degrees Fahrenheit, his feet to a more
intense 115 degrees.

"Ouch!" hollered the tear streaked Brady as his father
roughly plucked yet another pubic hair, "that hurt!"

"I sure hope so," responded his father, plucking another
hair.  "It's supposed to."

A few more yanks and the crying Brady's pubic area was as
bald as Blake's.  "There, all done," proclaimed the thirteen
year old's proud father.  "Time to turn your chair off and
leave you up."

Once Brady was free, Blyth called him and the naked Brooke
over to her.  "Everyone, I would like you to meet our new
babysitter, Jackie Kipperson."

"Pleased to meet you all," said Jackie.

"This is my husband, Bryce," Blyth continued the
introductions.  "Dear, you may already know her parents,
they were on the TBC Committee."

"Sam and Bev Kipperson, I sure do," replied Bryce, "they're
great, they have wonderful ideas about dealing with the too
much modesty and bad behavior issues."

"This one," said the smiling Mrs. Barrington, pointing to
the blushing boy, "is my son Brady.  At the moment, he
doesn't quite look like a thirteen year old down there, does
he?"

"Sure doesn't," agreed the equally smiling Jackie, deepening
Brady's blush.

"And, here we have Brooke," said Mr. Barrington, picking up
from his wife, "she's eleven."

"Blake, who's nine, you already know," resumed Blyth, "quite
intimately I might add."  This caused Jackie to laugh, to
the confusion of the other kids, none of whom understood the
subtlety or the meaning of the comment.

"Who are the two little wankers?" asked Bryce, pointing to
the two still masturbating boys.

"Those are my brothers, Danny and Stevie," answered Jackie.
"Boys, you can stop now, it's time for your spankings."

"Spankings?" asked Bryce.

"Yes, for cumming without my permission," responded the
confident in charge young teen.  "May I?" she asked Bylth.

"But of course you can, be our guest," graciously replied
the matriarch of the household.

Being younger, Stevie's spanking was first.  His big sister
wasted no time in draping the naked boy over her lap.  Time
after time the vicious spike riddled paddle attacked his
rapidly reddening bottom.  A bottom that the spikes used as
a pincushion, repeatedly pricking the skin.  When the wildly
crying boy was finally set upon his feet to dance his dance
of the spanked, droplets of red blood oozed down his red
behind.  A terrified Blake, hoping his parents didn't buy
such a paddle, counted nine separate bleeding spots on the
ravished little bottom dancing before him.

"That's some paddle," commented Bryce, "we're have to get
two for the kids."

"Jackie's family owns Kippers," informed Blyth, "her
grandfather is the manager we met yesterday."

"They never told me that," responded the surprised Bryce.

"That was on purpose," Jackie explained.  "They don't want
to create any appearance that they were suggesting things
just because we sell the equipment."

"They needn't had worried," replied Prosecutor Barrington.
"All their suggestions are well thought out as to why and
how, and always make sense.  Besides, Kippers isn't the only
place to buy punishment gear."

"True, but it's the best," Jackie promoted the family
business.

"Agreed," Blyth agreed.

"Okay Danny," your turn sister informed brother.

Danny's bottom blistering was longer and harder than his
brother's.  When Jackie finally stopped assaulting the
sobbing boy's behind, Blake counted twelve bleeding spots on
the twelve year old's crimson bottom, and a few purple
bruises.

"Can I borrow your hot seat?" asked Jackie.  "I need to
restrain him for the next part.  He has extra coming for his
bad language, and for not announcing he was cumming."

"Use Blake's over there," said Blyth.  "It hasn't been used
yet and is clean.  Do you want the peg in or out and the
heat on or off?"

"Peg in, heat off," answered Jackie.

"You have it," replied Blyth.  "A tube of lube is already
on the seat."

"Also, if you have one, I need a penis strap."

"Spiked or plain?" asked Bryce.

"Spiked, of course," answered the Barrington's new
babysitter.

Without the impressed adults' assistance, Jackie quickly had
her screaming brother impaled and secured on the seat. "This
is for your language," she said, quickly grabbing and
squeezing his balls, hard.  Danny ear piercingly screamed.
"Okay, now I want everyone to take a turn giving him a good
squeeze, you too, Stevie."  One by one, the requested
additional  squeezes were applied, six painful applications
in all.

When Danny's screaming somewhat subsided, his sister
implemented his next punishment.  Firmly grabbing and
stretching the preteen's dick out as far as she could, she
said, "This is for not saying you were cumming."   She
smashed the small spiked strap down hard onto her brother's
small cock, eliciting a new scream.  Ten times in all she
spanked the small organ, leaving it red, sore, bleeding in
two places, and with a blister on the head.

"You're going to do fine as our babysitter," declared the
very pleased Bryce.

"That's for certain," agreed the equally pleased Blyth.

* * *

A few moments later, with Danny still screaming and dancing
about, Bryce told Jackie, "You might want to stick around a
little while longer, Brady's prick has a little pricking of
its own coming."

"Dad, no!" shouted the panicking teen, "don't use the strap
on my dick!"

"Oh, no,  not the strap," calmly replied his father, "but
these, and not only on your dick."  Bryce was holding a
plastic device that to Brady looked much like a wider and
longer  version of the lancets that his diabetic friend Nick
used for blood sugar testing.

"No!" screamed Brady as his father twisted off the
protective cap.  To Brady's terrified eyes, the tip of the
narrow gauge needle looked extremely sharp, and extremely
painful.

"This shield here," said the now shaking boy's father,
pointing to a small flared disc about a quarter inch up from
the tip of the shaft, at the bottom of the handle, "ensures
that we don't stick it in too deep.  But I assure you, it'll
be plenty deep enough to hurt a lot."

"Daddy, no!" again screamed Brady.

"Daddy, yes," replied the distraught boy's father, "in a few
minutes you'll become a human pincushion.  But first, we
must warm up that bottom of yours."

"Please, don't," begged the already sobbing Brady.

Ignoring his pleading son, Bryce asked the new babysitter,
"Jackie, can I use that paddle of yours for a few moments?"

"Yes, sir, sure can."

Twenty spanks later, Brady's bare bottom was again red and
hurting.  "Wow, Brady," said Blake, "you should see your
bottom, it has these little holes in it.  Some even have
blood coming from them."  This comment from his little
brother only increased the thirteen year old's sobbing.

"Let's see now," said Bryce, addressing the boy still draped
over his lap, "wonder how these would feel in those holes."

"Dad, Please, don't," sobbed out the tearful Brady.

Again paying no heed to his son's pleads, Bryce announced to
the room, "Injection time!"  Quickly, he swabbed an alcohol
wipe over his intended target area, and just as quickly
pushed a pin all the way to the hilt into one of the spike
holes on Brady's behind.

"Yeow, owwwww, owwwwww!" screamed the now desperately
squirming Brady, "it hurts, it hurts, take it out, take it
out!"

"Sorry, no can do," cheerfully replied the pinned boy's
father, "not till ten holes have been done."  Hole after
hole, Bryce swabbed and inserted.  Hole after hole, Brady
screamed out his anguish.  Anguish that was about to get
worse.  And then, worse again.

"Too bad these can't stay in," Bryce told the boy wildly
bucking on his lap, "you need to be able to sit."  One by
one, the father relieved his son of the painful pins.

"Too bad," said Blyth, "I was hoping the pins would give his
bottom a constant reminder to behave."

"Well," said Bryce, "they tell me these pins are also great
for scratching."

Hearing this, Jackie whispered something to Mrs. Barrington.

"That's a great idea," proclaimed Blyth.  "I think you
should have the honor of doing it."

"Rally?" asked the excited Jackie.  "Thank you so much."

"Honey, do you mind?" wife asked husband.

"Not at all," Mr. Barrington agreed without even knowing the
plan.  "Jackie, go for it."

Jackie approached the cringing boy.  "First we must
sterilize the operation area," she said as she wiped a wide
horizontal path along the center of his left buttock.
"Doctor, scalpel pleas," she joked with Brady's dad.

Taking a pin from the Bryce, the grinning girl pushed it
about halfway into Brady's left buttock.  When the boy's
pained movement slowed somewhat, she began etching out a
word.

"Stop, stop!" screamed Brady, "you're hurting me!"

"Good," replied his mother, "that's the whole idea now,
isn't it?"  As Jackie continued, Brady's gyrations grew more
and more energetic.  Mother and father, working as a team,
could barely retain the bare boy on Bryce's lap.

"You need to move about less," admonished Jackie, "we want
people to be able to read what it says."

Eventually, the young babysitter finished her writing on
Brady's left bottom cheek.  After giving the vociferously
hollering boy a brief minute's respite, she announced, "Now
to prepare the other side."  Quickly, she treated his right
buttock with one of the wipes.

Brady's howls of protest grew ever louder as Jackie wrote
away on his right cheek.  The near blinding pain in his rear
end caused copiously blinding tears to endlessly waterfall
down his face.

"All done," the satisfied Jackie finally announced to one
and all.

"What does it say?" Brady managed to shriek out between his
shrieks of extreme discomfort.  Discomfort that was about to
become much more pronounced.

"It's bleeding a bit," the naked Brooke happily informed her
older naked brother, "but I can still read it.  It says,
Spank Here!"

"Now," said Blyth, "until that heals, every time some one
sees your bare behind, they're know exactly what to do."

"I still think he needs to be a pincushion for a while,"
said Bryce.  "Wonder where we can stick these to stay in a
while?"

"I hear putting them in the underarms hurts really bad,"
Jackie helpfully informed.

"As do, I bet," said Blyth, "in his little dick."  Despite
his distress, Brady blushed at his mother again inferring
that his dick was "little" when in fact it was bigger than
that of any of the other three naked boys in the room.

"I have a special set that doesn't go quite as deep to use
on his dick," Bryce responded to the suggestions.  "But, I
like the idea of using these longer ones in his armpits.

Before the still dazed Brady could recover his senses, he
was standing in front of his father, his arms tightly held
up high by his mother.  "Jackie," she asked the new
babysitter, "would you please wipe his underarms, we don't
want any nasty infections to set in."  Gladly, the smirking
teen girl took to her task, roughly running the moist
disinfecting wipe over Brady's soon to be painful armpits.

"This is going to hurt you a lot more than me," Bryce joked
as he shoved the first pin all the way home in Brady's left
armpit.  And hurt a lot it did, as Brady's resultant ear
splitting screams attested.  Four times Brady's left armpit
was pinned, four times Brady's voice attempted to break
glass with its high pitched anguished screeches of utmost
agony.  Before Brady fully caught his breath from the last
insertion, his dad was working on his right armpit.  Four
more painful injections, four more vocal howls of protest.

Arms released, Brady's hands immediately flashed toward the
painful pins.  "Oh no you don't," said Bryce, quickly
grabbing his oldest son's hands.  Just as quickly, Blyth
handed her husband a set of the cloth cuffs.  Even more
quickly, Bryce had Brady's hands securely cuffed behind his
back.

"Those pins stay in till we say they come out," father
informed eldest son.  "Now, to finish up, we have these," he
pronounced, holding out the box pf penis pins.  "These will
penetrate three-sixteenths of an inch, not as deep as the
ones in your armpits, but I promise they'll hurt at least as
much."

"Don't do it, Dad!" the sobbing Brady once more futilely
pleaded for mercy.  Mercy that wasn't forthcoming.  "Dear, I
think you should have the honors," the father told the
mother.

"Love to," answered Blyth, grabbing hold of Brady's flaccid
circumcised cock. With her free hand, she vigorously rubbed
one of the alcohol wipes up and down her son's dick.  And
then, for good measure, she wiped him again.  "Blake," she
ordered her younger son, "I want you to do the first one,
right here in his dickhead."

"Mommy, no," protested the little boy, "he's my brother,
don't make me hurt him."

"Blake, I'm telling you to," responded Blyth, "it's part of
his punishment.  Think of all times he picked on you and was
mean to you."

"But, but," protested Blake, "that's what big brothers do."

"And this is how little brothers get even," countered his
mother.  "Do it or some of these pins go into your little
dickie instead."

With trepidation and shaking hand, Blake hesitantly took the
proffered pin from his mom.  With even greater hesitancy, he
advanced the tiny torture device toward the head of his big
brother's cock.

"Blake, please, don't," Brady begged his little brother.

"You don't ever tell your brother or sister not to do
something I or dad tell them to do, understand me mister?"
Blyth angrily told Brady, giving his already sore aching
bottom a resounding smack.

"Yes, ma'am," croaked the crying teen.

"Blake, push it in there, now," Blyth demanded her youngest
torture her eldest.  Blake did, quickly decorating Brady's
dickhead with the pin.  Brady screamed, an ear shattering
howl clearly heard all the way out on the street.

"Oh my God, it hurts, it hurts so bad!" shouted the agonized
teen, "get it out, get it out, you're ruining my dick!"

"No he's not," responded Bryce.  "He's only hurting it, and
helping to decorate it.  Calm down, you have five more to
go."

But calm down Brady couldn't, not for the next insertion,
courtesy of his sister Brooke, almost as hesitant as Blake.
She pricked his prick just below the head.  Nor for the next
one, placed a little lower on his shaft by the not hesitant
at all Jackie.

"Wow," the new babysitter said, reacting to Brady's
reaction, "we'll have to get some of these for my brothers.
Both Danny and Stevie paled at this pronouncement, wanting
no part of what the pins could do to their little penises.

Brady certainly couldn't stay still, or quiet, for the final
three insertions, courtesy of his mother.  When all was said
and done, a row of six pins marched down the underside of
his now very painful, very sore dick.

"Bet it gets interesting when he gets hard," Jackie
commented.

"Sure will," agreed Blyth.

"We'll probably find out," said Bryce, "as they stay in for
the next two hours."

The still crying Brady, tears furiously flowing, didn't
protest this edict.  He was concentrating on trying to shake
the penile pins off by vigorously gyrating about, his cock
flopping about wildly.  But no matter how hard he shook and
flopped, the dreadfully hurting pins wouldn't budge even a
bit from his very pained pricked prick.

"I'd love to stay around," Jackie said, "but it's time to
get these two home for dinner."

"Drop by anytime," Blyth told the girl, "and you too, boys.
Brady and Blake aren't always being punished, you know."

"Thank you," said Jackie.  "Boys, where are you manners?"

"Thank you," Danny and Stevie sheepishly replied in unison.

"Oh, don't forget to leave your phone number," Blyth said as
the Kipperson trio headed toward the door.

"Yes, thank you for reminding me," answered Jackie.

While Blyth exchanged the necessary information with the
Barrington family's new babysitter, Bryce informed his
daughter, "Brooke, your punishment time is up.  You can go
get dressed now."

* * *

About the same time over at the Myer's household, Julie was
getting the same good news about her punishment being at an
end.

"No fair," protested Josh, "why is she always punished
less?"

"I told you why before," his again exasperated mother
explained yet once more, "little girls don't need as much
punishment as little boys."

"I'm not a little boy," Josh hotly replied, immediately
regretting his outburst.

"Young man," declared his father, "that just earned you
another punishment.  Come over here."

Josh approached as ordered.  "Please dad, I'm sorry, I won't
complain again."

"Well," replied Tom, "this punishment is to help you
remember that promise.  Julie, would you bring a kitchen
chair over here."

"Sure thing, daddy," the newly dressed nine year old gladly
replied.

Chair in place, father ordered son, "Josh, stand up right
against the back of the seat."

"Yes, sir," Josh wisely obeyed.

"You need to be a little higher.  Julie, sweetheart, could
you bring me that stool, please."

Again, Julie happily took to her task.  "Here you are
daddy."

"Thank you, princess."

"You're welcome."

"Josh," came his fathers next command, "move away for a
minute."  When Josh did so, Tom positioned the stool against
the back legs of the chair.  "Now stand up on the stool."
Josh did as instructed.

"What are you going to do?" the frightened boy asked.

"This," answered Lieutenant Myers, grabbing Josh's genitals
and placing them over the top of the seat back.  "They still
there till this is over," Tom admonished his son.

"I'm curious, too," said Beth, "what's up?"

"His dick," husband answered wife. "Josh, you start beating
off, and you don't stop until you've cum two times.  And no
faking, I'll know if you are."

Immediately Josh began jerking off for his family, face yet
once again blushing bright red.  He had no intention of
faking it, he didn't doubt for a moment that his dad would
know if he did.  His father had always known in the past
when either he or Julie didn't tell anything but the truth,
the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.  Josh supposed
this to be because of some sort of secret police officer
training to know if someone was lying or not.

"Faster," demanded his father, "we don't have all day."
Josh now discovered the trap, as his flying fist painfully
smacked into his balls.  Tears sprung to his eyes, but he
kept on jerking, although a little more slow and cautious.

"I love it," said Beth.  "Not only does he pound his meat,
if he's not careful he pounds his little balls."

"Exactly," said Tom.

By the time Josh shouted out his first "I'm cumming" he had
managed to "pound his little balls" three painful times.
And when he finally reached his second dry cum, he had self
punished his balls another four times.

At that moment, the doorbell rang.  "Good, pizza must be
here," said Beth.  "Josh, go answer the door."

"Yes, mom," the abashed naked preteen replied.

* * *

The pizza, as it always is for twelve year old boys, was
delicious.  And marked the beginning of things getting
better for Josh as his punishment wound down to it's end the
next morning.  Before bed, he did receive another,
thankfully mild, spanking and had to jerk off one more time.
In the morning, he had to put up with the ususal teasing and
fondling of his classmates till his final session at the
CSC.  The spanking machine was terrible, as always.  But
Josh gritted his teeth and took it, knowing that this was
the end of his ordeal.

Despite the tears, Josh was smiling when he was released
from the machine and handed his clothes.  His punishment was
over.  True, there were many public places, such as the
beach and doctor's office where he could be made to be
naked, punishment or not.  And, he still would have to be
naked at home from his early bath time to after breakfast
the next morning.  And he would still have to masturbate for
his family on parental demand, and allow his mom to examine
his genitals whenever she wished.  He would just have to
learn to put up with all the embarrassing "little boys
shouldn't be so modest" rules, whether he liked them or not.
And he definitely didn't like them, and was convinced he
never would.

But even those rules couldn't damper his spirits, his
punishment was over!  At least until the next time he got in
trouble and his parents had to again show him just who was
in control.

End

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>|
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org>   Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> |
|Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}|
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+