http://www.eunuchworld.org/view.php?storyid=2788

By: Paolo

When Timothy awoke the next morning, he had no clue where he was. He sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes for a bit. When he finally came fully awake, thanks to help from his aching penis and his full bladder, he jumped down off of the top bunk and hit the floor running for the bathroom. He dashed in, raised the lid and seat, and promptly tried to let go.

He encountered a problem immediately.

Timothy had to pee badly, as he did every morning. He had a hard-on, which he had every morning. However, this was his FIRST morning of being imprisoned in a boys’ chastity device. He gasped in shock. His erect penis, with nowhere to go in the usual direction of erection, was pressing backwards into his body. Unfortunately, this made it nearly impossible for him to urinate; it also saved him from peeing down his leg. Then he remembered seeing Rand pull the small plug at the base of the front cup of the device, did that, and sat down. It took him several painful minutes to relieve himself, by which time he was thoroughly upset. He pulled a piece of toilet paper, patted himself dry, and put the small drain plug back in.

“I’m gettin’ outta here,” he muttered to himself, going back into the bedroom where Rand was still asleep.

As he tried to find his clothes, Timothy stopped and took a look at his new friend. Rand was sleeping on his stomach, his head turned facing Timothy on a curved foam pillow. Timothy rubbed at his own neck, and realized that he felt pretty good, all things considered. He watched Rand sleeping for a few minutes, noting how his red lips were slightly parted and how the air whistled softly through his small, button-like nose when he breathed. He bent down and looked at Rand’s red hair, buzzed very short, and suddenly had the urge to run his hand over it.

Wasn’t there some saying about rubbing a red-haired boy’s head?

Tentatively, he reached out a shaking hand and did that. Rand’s hair felt prickly under his touch, and he ran his fingers down the shaven sides of the boy’s head to touch his earring. Timothy saw that it was a silver captive bead ring type, with a red bead. He remembered that Rand had one in each ear, as did Ty. He liked it though, and made a mental note that he wanted one like it, if not two. It looked to be of a larger gauge than his own standard hoop, however, and he was wondering if it would hurt to put it in when the door opened.

“Good morning boys,” Susan announced, dressed in the long red robe and holding a steaming cup of strong coffee.

Timothy spun around fast, pulling his hand back. His face flamed as he realized that he was practically naked, and doctor or not, he was still embarrassed.

Rand stirred and yawned, stretched his arms, and opened his eyes. He blinked a few times, rubbed his eyes and then sat up with a wince and a small grunt.

“Good morning Aunt Susan,” he said in sleepy voice. Then he noticed Timothy. “Good morning, Timmy,” he added.

“Morning,” Timothy nearly choked, face flaming.

“Were you rubbing my head?” Rand asked, coming fully awake.

Timothy’s face flamed even redder and Susan laughed. She sipped her coffee. “Well they say it IS good luck Rand, and you’re so cute in the mornings! Well?” she demanded of Timothy, who had taken a step backwards.

“Yes, ma’am,” he mumbled.

“Why?”

Timothy didn’t know what to say. What would she think? Would she punish him for it? Rand certainly seemed afraid of her, and after what he’d seen the night before, Timothy didn’t blame him! The sight of the plug being pulled from, then replaced into his butt, was fresh in his mind and he remembered the threat of a spanking. “I ... I just thought ... I mean, it looked like ... I dunno, I just wanted to touch it is all.”

Susan came towards them then, careful of her coffee, and sat down on the bed next to Rand. Timothy stepped back again, noticing the door was open. She ducked her head a bit, and kissed Rand on the cheek. She then rubbed his head, and Rand smiled, his braces flashing in the soft light spilling in through his large window. “Do you think it will bring YOU luck, Timmy?” she asked.

Timothy glanced at the door, then back at her, speechless.

“Excuse me,” Rand said, standing up gingerly and making a dash for the bathroom. Then Susan stood up and moved towards Timothy. He was suddenly too frightened to move, and his plan for escape evaporated as she drew him into her arm, pulled him close, and kissed his cheek as well. Timothy couldn’t help but wonder if Rand would have the same problem that he’d had. He was soon back, however, indicating that he hadn’t.

When he returned, Susan looked at him. “You’re on your own for breakfast, kiddos. There’s Eggo’s in the freezer, and unfortunately, our little Timmy here won’t be having lunch.”

Timothy’s blood ran cold again as he wondered what sadistic torture she had in mind for him. The thought of Rand’s buttplug came to mind instantly, and as hard as he tried not to, he began to tremble. Susan noticed it.

“Oh don’t worry, Timmy,” she explained, “It’s just a bit more of your treatment. Later this evening, your mommy and Ty and his mommy will be by. Some other friends of mine are coming too, with THEIR boys and we’ll all have a good time helping you out! Doesn’t that sound nice?”

Timothy opened his mouth to say ‘no’, but he saw Rand standing behind his Aunt nodding his own red head furiously, his eyes wide and mouthing the word ‘yes’. “Y-yes, ma’am,” Timothy agreed, and Rand relaxed.

She then ushered them out into the hall, where the boys found hooded white terry cloth robes hanging on the doorknob. Very much relieved, Timothy put his on; he had been entertaining thoughts of sitting at the breakfast table in his near-naked state, and he hadn’t liked that. As he put the robe on, he realized that it was his when he saw a small chocolate stain on the front. “Was my mom here?” he asked.

Susan nodded as they made their way to the kitchen. “She brought some things by, Timmy. She’ll be here again this afternoon. She’s been filled in on your progress so far, and she’s very happy. Oh, she and Marla had a wonderful time last night!”

Timothy nodded. “She never goes out though,” he informed them as Rand got their frozen breakfast ready for the toaster.

“That’s because she never had anyone to watch YOU, Timmy. Boys need watching, they need care. Especially if they’re sick, like you are.”

Timothy let that one slide. He wasn’t sure he believed her.

The boys ate their waffles, which weren’t bad once Rand had added some fresh berries and whipped cream and syrup. Rand drank coffee as well, but Timothy politely refused in favor of milk. Under Susan’s watchful eye, they ate. About halfway through the meal, she poured herself another coffee and left the room. They finished without conversation. They did the dishes. Timothy then followed Rand’s lead in going into the vast living room and standing with his bare feet apart and hands clasped behind his back as his friend asked his Aunt what to do next. Timothy marveled at the fact that the boy seemed to have NO say at all in even the slightest things in his life, and he began to grow warier.

How far was his treatment going to go?

Susan’s orders were simple. “I want you both to go upstairs and entertain yourselves! It’s Saturday! Just remember to take a bath around one or so. Then we have to get Timmy ready to go over to the office and then come back for the little get-together this evening. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”

Rand nodded and smiled, and Timothy imitated him.

They spent the remainder of the morning playing video games and surfing the Internet. Timothy was amazed at Rand’s PC, being so fast and having DSL service. The boys downloaded a pile of MP3 files, burnt several CD’s, and talked about everything EXCEPT for what bothered Timothy the most. He didn’t dare bring it up, but the more he watched Rand squirm as he sat in his computer chair, the more Timothy grew anxious.

At one o’clock, the intercom buzzed. “Bath time, boys,” Susan ordered.

“Already?” Timothy asked.

“Rand, make sure he gets clean. I want you two soaked for at least 45 minutes.”

“Yes ma’am,” Rand replied.

The channel closed and Rand headed to the bathroom. “C’mon,” he said when Timothy sat back down at the PC.

“You go first, right?” he asked in puzzlement.

Rand shook his head. “The tub’s big enough for both of us and you need to know how to get clean under the belt. Besides, the water bill’s outrageous as it is.”

Timothy’s heart skipped a beat and he flinched as he felt himself getting hard. With the belt on, it was very uncomfortable.

He blushed again, but followed Rand in. He hadn’t noticed the bathtub the night before, since he’d been busy watching Rand. The tub was a Jacuzzi style, and it was huge! Rand turned the water on, filling it with hot water and throwing some soap in. In a few moments, the tub was ready. Rand disrobed, and Timothy realized that they hadn’t even gotten dressed.

Timothy watched as Rand climbed in, and he nervously coughed. “Oh c’mon, off with the robe and get in!”

Timothy tried to protest.

“Never bathed or showered with other boys?”

He shook his head.

“Well get in! It’s not like you’re really naked, you know.”

Timothy did that, humiliated, and Rand explained what to do. “Get up near a jet. There are small holes in the front part of your belt, and the water pressure will make it circulate in under it. That’s why we have to soak for so long.”

They did that as well, and Timothy felt very strange as the high pressure jets sprayed at him. He was warm and comfortable though, and he began to relax. Now and then, his bare leg would rub up against Rand’s, but the redhead didn’t seem to mind. “Try not to fall asleep and drown,” he warned, smiling.

After about fifteen minutes, though, Timothy couldn’t stand it anymore. He’d been spanked before, and he felt he could endure it. He had to ask, wondering how Rand could take the embarrassment.

“Rand, I don’t wanna be rude, but this is really buggin’ me. What’s up with this belt thing? This feels weird, havin’ my balls up inside of me.”

“Treatment,” Rand replied, as if that explained it all. “You get used to it.”

Timothy shook his head, his wet hair hanging down past his eyes in the front. He brushed it back and washed his face off. “What I meant was, how long and why?”

“Depends,” Rand stated evasively. “On how well you respond and how you act. You have to be properly disciplined before it can come off.”

“How long is that?”

Rand bit his lip and held up two fingers, one bent halfway down.

Timothy gasped. Rand was fourteen, he guessed, and did the fingers mean years? Had this boy been treated like this for a year and a half?! Timothy swallowed hard, making a small gulping sound.

“Well I guess I need it,” he said to the air, “Looks like it didn’t kill you.”

Rand smiled and mouthed the word ‘thanks.’Timothy cringed inwardly at how Rand seemed to have just accepted it all.

When they were done, they dried off and found Susan waiting for them in Rand’s room. She handed Rand a set of clothes, all white it appeared. She didn’t offer Timothy anything, however. He watched as Rand dressed in what looked like white medical scrubs. Susan, he noted, was dressed for business.

“Isn’t he adorable?” she asked when Rand had dressed and put on a pair of stringless white sneakers.

Timothy nodded.

“Well, let’s be off to the office, then. Come along now.”

Timothy didn’t say a word. He flinched a bit as Susan put an arm about his shoulders and Rand held his hand. They led him, attired as he was (or wasn’t) across the lawn and to the office. Timothy prayed devoutly that no one saw him. His penis was throbbing again, trying to get loose from the belt. As they entered the building and arrived in the exam room, Timothy suddenly remembered what Rand had said at bedtime: Just ask her to cut your penis off ...

He began to shake, badly, as Susan and Rand fell to work. Both of them were getting into drawers, turning on lights, getting things out. Frightened as he was, his mind racing, Timothy got up on the table to get out of their way.

Susan saw him.

“Isn’t he just the sharpest?” she asked.

“He is,” Rand smiled, and Timothy gasped as he saw Rand holding a tray of scalpels.

His heart pounded as Susan and Rand approached him. She gently pushed him back, and he laid down. Rand reached down to brush his hair out of his face, and laid his other hand on Timothy’s chest. “You want a shot to relax you, Timmy? You look awful strung out.”

“Just give him a bit, dear. Not too much.”

Timothy then felt his wrist being pressed, and as he jerked his head to look, he saw that Rand had distracted him while Susan strapped it down with a broad leather cuff! He pulled it and cried out, but fell back as he felt a needle stab his left butt cheek. He felt very warm, and his tremors stopped.

Rand then helped his Aunt secure Timothy’s other hand and his legs, with a wide strap being pulled across his waist as well. When they were done, Rand propped his head up with a pillow. “I’m sorry,” he whispered in Timothy’s ear, but Timothy found that he didn’t care!

Whatever Rand had shot him with was very good stuff, and he was soon grinning and looking this way and that.

“Whut ya doin’?” Timothy slurred as Susan took out a small key and popped the front of Timothy’s belt off.

His penis was about half hard, and it slowly extended back out as if stretching out in relief. Timothy laughed as his balls descended back into his scrotum. “Thas wild,” he said.

“Yes dear. Aunt Susan doesn’t really like your penis though.”

“Why?” he asked in a hurt voice. After all, HE liked his penis.

Rand coughed.

“Because it isn’t right, Timmy. You see, you aren’t circumcised. Rand is, Ty is, all the other boys are. You want to be like them, don’t you?” she crooned, taking his penis in her hand and pulling on it, pushing the foreskin back and rubbing it with Betadyne.

“Like Raaaand?” he asked, his eyes glassy.

“Yes dear. You want Aunt Susan to fix it all nice and neat?”

“You gonn’ cut it offfff?” he wondered aloud, seeming not to care.

“Oh my, no! I just need to snip the tip off is all! That way it’s much easier for you to keep clean under the belt.”

Timothy thought about it.

“Jus’ the tip?” He spit when he said the ‘P’ in ‘tip.’

“Yes, Timmy.”

“But you know how-tuh cut it allllllll off?”

“Do you WANT Aunt Susan to cut your penis off all the way, Timmy?”

He heard Rand suck in a hard breath and hold it. “I think I gave him too much, Aunt Susan,” Rand apologized.

“That’s fine, dear. It’ll help when I start in on him.”

Rand smiled and breathed out hard.

Why’d he do that? Timothy wondered.

He then saw Rand holding a plastic jug of some kind.

“Good idea,” Susan said, “Timmy, you need to pee into this for me.”

“uh-K,” he mumbled as she held it over his penis. Timothy peed into it and laughed.

“Good boy!” Susan praised him.

“Is myyyy m-o-om ‘k on dis?” Timothy slurred, blinking.

“Yes, dear. She is. She knows, and she thinks it’s nice. Now, Aunt Susan’s just going to cut the tip off, ok?”

“OK!” Timothy agreed. “Cun I waaaaaatch?”

“Yes, Timmy.” She then turned to Rand, who brought her some gloves. He gloved his hands as well, and handed her a surgical mask. Timothy giggled.

“You are so stoned,” Rand told him, arranging the tray of tools.

“Yeeeeeaaaa,” Timothy agreed.

Susan then picked up a white plastic device which looked bell-shaped on the end with small handles at the side. She pulled Timothy’s foreskin back, slid the bell over the glans of his penis, and pulled it towards her. Timothy watched in amazement as the thing slid back over his penis, the head disappearing into the long bell-like part. She pulled it a bit harder, and he groaned.

“Don’ pullll it offff,” he advised.

“Yes, doctor,” she agreed whimsically, pushing it back just a bit further and letting the foreskin slide down over it. She then squeezed the handles shut, and Timothy squeaked.

“Wowwww,” he moaned, “Thas real wieeerd!”

Rand then handed her a small scalpel. “Going in tight as you can, Aunt Susan?” he asked.

“Yes, Rand. We should take as much of it off as we can, right?”

Rand nodded. “Yes, ma’am. Maybe you can get one more click out of it?” he suggested, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“What a good idea! But you know, once his treatment’s over, it will make it stand halfway up when he’s not belted. It won’t go down like usual and just hang.”

“Whatever you think is best, Aunt Susan,” he agreed. “I think mine’s very tight, isn’t it?”

“Yes, dear, it is,” she agreed, clicking the device again and pulling the trapped foreskin tighter into the crushing device.

Timothy groaned. “Oww,” he mumbled.

Rand handed her the scalpel, and Timothy stared in wonder as she touched the cold metal to his limp penis. He saw a bit of blood run out from under the blade as it dug into the soft flesh.

A split second later, as she pushed the blade down into contact with the underlying shield, the pain hit him. It took about another second to cut through the drug induced fog of his brain, but it finally did.

Timothy screamed.

Susan’s practiced hand moved in a graceful arc around the boy’s penis. He struggled against his bonds a bit, the pain coming up through his groin and stomach like fire. Whatever was in the shot surrendered to that pain, and Timothy screamed again and again as she continued her work with Rand dabbing away the blood.

He had never felt such pain before in his life. Racking himself on his bike was nothing compared to this! His entire body seemed to take fire, and he found that he couldn’t form words. He couldn’t beg them to stop. All he could do was scream as the hot tears ran down his face and the cool knife dug into his penis.

He blinked back tears, choked and coughed, and raised his head just a bit to watch as Rand reached in with a pair of forceps and took the tip of his nearly-severed foreskin in them. Timothy screamed again.

“I told you it wouldn’t last,” Susan advised Rand.

Rand, however, looked as if he were struggling against his own belt, prancing in place, trying to get comfortable. Through his pain, Timothy realized that Rand probably had an erection and that it hurt!

Nothing could hurt like HIS penis did, however. Timothy thrashed and howled, pulling at his bonds, but it was no use. He watched as Susan made the final cut, and Rand held up his severed foreskin.

There seemed to be a very large piece of meat in the forceps.

Timothy screamed again.

“Well, now, let’s irrigate and stitch this nice little thing up nice and neat, shall we?” Susan asked.

Timothy lay panting, the pain subsiding to a bad sting. He watched as Rand carefully put his severed foreskin in a small bottle of clear fluid and closed the lid on it. He then returned with a bottle of saline wash and disinfectant, and Susan opened it.

“Timmy, get ready. This is going to hurt like hell!” She warned him.

Oh God, let me die! Please let me die! Timothy prayed as the saline was poured onto his raw penis. Fresh waves of pain hit him, but Timothy was beyond screaming. His throat was sore and his face soaked with tears. I’ll never touch it again, I swear! I won’t! I promise! Please, please make her stop! I’ll DO anything, just please!

The next several minutes were a blur of even more nightmarish pain as Rand helped his Aunt stitch up Timmy’s severely circumcised penis. When they were done stitching, Rand wiped Timothy’s eyes with a Kleenex and brushed his hair out of his face. Timothy was panting as he looked down at his new penis, the tip and small bit of pipe-like flesh gone from the end.

It looked so different!

He stared at the purplish mushroom shaped head of it, and wondered at the ring of neat stitches that surrounded the shaft a good distance back from it. It looked as if he were almost erect, but he could feel that he wasn’t. Susan had cleaned it all up, and although a bit red and swollen, she smiled.

“I like it, Timmy!” She informed him.

“It’s very nice,” Rand offered, holding Timothy’s hand.

Timothy sniffled and choked, staring. NO WAY my mom knew about this! She’s gonna be so pissed! She’ll sue, I bet! No way would she do this to me!”

Susan then held up another needle from the tray, and Timothy squealed as best his hoarse throat could do. He struggled at his bonds again, and squeezed Rand’s hand tightly. He shook his head and began to cry again, croaking out strangled pleas to leave him alone, that he’d be good, that he’d do anything she wanted ...

Susan smiled at him warmly. “Aunt Susan’s going to make it all better now, Timmy,” she assured him as Rand brushed his mussed hair back with his hand. Timothy looked up at him, his eyes pleading. Rand nodded.

“It’s lidocaine,” he said, as Susan stuck the needle into him.

Timothy screamed one more time, then his eyes went wide.

His whole crotch began to tingle, then it began to go numb. The pain stopped, and he saw Rand reach into the tray for another needle.

“Yes, good idea, Rand,” Susan agreed when she looked up, working at Timothy’s scrotum and injecting him again. He didn’t feel that one as the blissful numbness began to spread. “Let’s let him sleep until 8 or 9, we’ll just call the guests and tell them. It IS Saturday, after all, and we can stay up all night long if need be!”

Rand then stuck the needle into Timothy’s right butt cheek, and Timothy breathed a heavy sigh of relief. He felt Rand holding his hand again as Susan began to bandage his penis.

He couldn’t feel it as she gently wrapped her handiwork, however, and as Rand stared down at his new friend in sympathy, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Timothy looked up to see him mouthing something without speaking.

“Huh?” he whimpered, but as the blissful numbing sensation chased away the pain, he passed out, smiling.

He awoke sometime later to find himself covered up with a heavy blanket. He was warm and lightheaded. He tried to move, but found that he couldn’t. He wanted to move, trying to shake off the remnants of a horrible dream, but his body wouldn’t obey him. He turned his head and looked into Rand’s face.

“Go back to sleep, Timmy,” he whispered, bending down close to his ear.

He could feel the hot breath on his skin, and he gasped. Rand was holding his hand, and his face looked pained as Timothy stared and began to try and focus on the splattering of freckles across his face. A second later, the pain hit him as he started to get an erection.

He howled and tried to sit up, but he couldn’t. Then it all came rushing back to him at once. It hadn’t been a nightmare! It had been real!

“MOM!” he cried out.

Then Susan was there, and he tried to shrink back into the bed. He saw that his arm was outside the blanket, an IV line in it, and that Rand was holding his other hand UNDER the blanket. Waves of pain shot out of his groin, and Susan grabbed the IV line and injected something into it.

“NO!” He screamed, his voice rough and his throat sore, “No, please! No more! No more treatments! I’ll be good! Please don’t hurt me anymore!”

Susan smiled down at him.

The pain evaporated as a warm fog seemed to envelope him. “You didn’t give him ENOUGH the second time!” he heard her snap at Rand. “You better hope he didn’t pull a stitch, or you’ll be very sorry, Mister!”

“Noooo,” he moaned.

“Just go back to sleep, Timmy,” she said.

“Don’ hurt him,” Timothy begged as the sedative grabbed him, “Ish not hish fualllllt.”

Susan then reached down and patted his cheek. “Are you sure?” she asked.

Timothy tried to nod, but his head fell sideways instead. A bit of drool ran from the corner of his mouth, and Rand wiped it away.

“No, Timmy,” he replied, “Please ...”

“M-myyyy baaad,” he slurred, as the world turned black.

He thought he heard Rand crying, but he couldn’t be sure.

When he awoke again, Timothy found himself still in bed. His IV was gone, and as he shook his head of unruly hair, he found that his mind was clear. He tried to move, and as he tensed his arms, he looked around.

Rand was there beside his bed, beside his own lower bunk, asleep in the PC chair. He was dressed in his white bath robe only, and he was still holding Timothy’s hand.

How long was I out? he wondered, How long’s he been here? What time is it?

He moved, and Rand was instantly awake. He jumped in the chair, then winced and got up. He wiggled himself a bit, as if trying to get situated. “You gonna live?” he asked.

Timothy nodded, not sure what to say. He remembered everything, or thought he did, and Rand had been part of it. Somehow, though, he wasn’t angry at him. After all, what could the boy have done to have stopped any of it? What choice did he have?

“You gotta pee?”

Timothy nodded again, his throat still sore.

Rand located a small urinal for him, and Timothy uncovered himself and sat up. He gasped in shock as he looked at himself. His belt was still on him, but the front cup was gone. In its place was a mass of white bandages, with only the very tip of his penis sticking out of a single layer of guaze.

“I changed it once and put some more lidocaine on it,” Rand told him with a red face. “I hope you don’t mind that I ... that I ...”

“Touched it?” Timothy interrupted.

“Yea. I kinda had too.”

“Is ... is it ... OK and all?” Timothy asked, remembering how it had been cut on.

“It’s really a neat job,” Rand replied, “You’re cut just like me now.”

“It doesn’t hurt! It’s pretty much numb. Feels like I don’t even have a dick!” Timothy told him, staring down at it. It was hard to tell under the fresh bandage, though.

“I used a LOT of lidocaine on it not long ago. It should stay numb for hours. Here,” Rand offered, holding out the urinal. It’s eight now, and you’ve been asleep all afternoon. Everyone’s coming at nine. Take a piss, and I’ll get you a soda.”

Timothy peed in the urinal, watching Rand walk across the room. The boy still walked on the balls of his feet, a spring in his step, and Timothy shivered. He couldn’t help but wonder what Rand had done to deserve this, or even IF the buttplug was part of the treatment that he was being told they all had to have. When he’d finished, Rand traded him the pop can for the urinal and went to dump it.

“We got about an hour,” Rand advised, “which gives us like 45 minutes before I have to get you ready for the next phase.”

“Next phase?” Timothy asked, sipping nervously as the clear soda. His stomach growled.

“Long time since breakfast.”

“YOU didn’t eat? Why not?”

Rand smiled at him. “I was here taking care of you,” he replied.

Timothy didn’t know what to say. He knew that anything he said would be heard, probably even recorded. He smiled at Rand, who smiled a metallic smile back to him.

“My Mom’s coming?” he asked.

Rand nodded. “Yea. Her and a lot of other people. I got something for you.”

The redhead then got up and went to his dresser. Timothy watched him, unsure of what he was feeling. Rand had taken care of him? He hadn’t even eaten dinner?

Then the boy was back at his bedside with small velvet box in his hand. He opened it and handed it to Timmy.

In the box were two silver red-beaded captive earrings just like his own.

“Cool!” Timothy breathed. Then he sighed. “My Mom won’t let me have both done, though,” he mourned.

“Yea, she will. In fact, Aunt Susan will put them in for you. She did mine.”

Timothy looked up sharply at him. “Will it hurt?”

“Only a little. It’s worth it though,” he assured him.

“OK,” Timothy agreed warily, “If you say so.”

Over the next 45 minutes or so, Timothy walked about in his robe trying to work out the kinks. His throat still hurt some, but Rand solved that problem with a few shots of Chloraseptic. He was just beginning to feel good when Rand said that he had to get dressed for the ‘little party.’ Timothy looked about the room, but there weren’t any clothes laid out for him. “I can’t go out there in just my robe!” he protested.

“Aunt Susan will be up in a bit,” Rand told him, leaving the room.

Timothy waited for a few minutes, and sure enough, Susan came in a bit later. “Come with me, Timmy,” she ordered, dressed in a red satin evening gown and black high heels. The boy stared at her, his eyes wandering from the extreme cut of the dress up to the narrow waist and finally to the cleavage.

If he was getting hard, he couldn’t feel it.

“What?” she demanded, holding out her hand.

Timothy took it, nervously, and coughed. “You’re very pretty,” he offered.

Her eyes seemed to sparkle at him, and she laid a hand upon her ample cleavage. “This old thing?” she asked, leading him out of their room and down the hallway to a room he’d never noticed before at the end of it.

She led him in, but the room was rather dark. Timothy could make out furniture here and there, but nothing too distinct in the dim light. “Stand here,” she said, and he did that. She rummaged around a bit then came back. “Come over here,” she said. Timothy went to her, and she leaned him back against something soft. “Take off the robe, Timmy,” she ordered.

He did as told, not wanting to make her angry. After the circumcison ordeal, most of the attitude of a teenager had left him and he didn’t question her. He leaned back, naked except for his belt and bandages, and squeaked in amazement when he felt a soft but tight cuff close over his wrist!

Susan then reached over and locked his other wrist down.

“Wh-what’s this?” he cried.

“Just getting you presentable for the party and your next phase of treament. You’re about to have an abject lesson is discipline, Timmy!” She stated coldly.

“B-but I promised I’d be good!” he protested, and he felt Susan grab his chin.

“You better be!”

She then bent down and secured his ankles, pulling his feet apart in the process. Once the boy was secured, she turned on the lights.

Timothy found himself bound to a padded X-frame of some kind. He looked around the room, and saw that it must take up the whole other half of the second floor! The room was huge, and it had white walls and a polished hardwood floor. “This is the grand room, as I call it, Timmy. We’re having a party, and YOU are the guest of honor!”

Timothy began to tremble and tug at his bonds, but the padded cuffs held him. Susan then reached down and secured two silver loops which had been added to his belt as he had slept. The loops attached to the frame, securing his waist. He shook his head.

“Oh there you are!” Susan suddenly said, and Timothy turned to see Rand enter the room. His heart nearly stopped.

Rand had gotten dressed.

His buzzed red hair was dyed in bright neon red, and his face was subtly made up. It wasn’t much, but Timothy could see that all of his facial features were highlighted a bit. His cheeks were very blushed, and his eyelids tinged in red to match his short hair. His earrings swung as he walked gingerly on the balls of his feet. Around his neck was a thick black leather collar with a silver D-ring in the front. He was still wearing his belt, and obviously his buttplug as well. He was also wearing a black leather harness of some kind, which seemed to attach to his collar. A strap ran down the center of his back to connect to the belt, and two straps crossed by a horizontal one in the front ran down to the front of the belt. On his hands were snug black leather gloves with no fingers, and about his thin wrists were silver studded leather cuffs. He wore nothing else, except for a pair of black tight slippers that went up to the cuffs about his ankles that matched those on his wrists, both with silver D rings as well.

“Oh God,” Timothy croaked.

Rand stepped up next to his Aunt, but he wasn’t smiling.

“He IS a little god, isn’t he?” Susan asked.

Timothy looked at his smooth and hairless form, watching his just developing muscles flex in tension. Rand moved this way and that, one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable.

Timothy knew that he was getting erect, putting stress on the stitches of his freshly circumcised penis. He could feel it a bit, and thanked Rand silently for the lidocaine.

“Treatment?” he asked glumly, looking away.

“Yes, dear,” Susan confirmed. “And treatment for everyone to see!”

Timothy started at that! Who was coming? Hadn’t she said a lot of people? What the hell kind of treatment was this? How much shame and humiliation did she expect him - or Rand - to be able to take?

“M-mom?” he almost sobbed.

“Yes, Mommy will be here soon,” Susan told him in a cool voice. “And she’s going to be so pleased with you when the night’s finished!”

“No,” Timothy whimpered, and he could feel his face taking fire.

Susan then stepped up to him and took something from behind the X-frame. Timothy stared in horror as he saw a collar like Rand’s in her hand. She put it around his neck, snugly, and then reached for something else.

“We can’t have you screaming and crying all evening,” she advised, holding up a gag of some kind. It looked very strange, and she handed it to Rand. “Put this in his mouth,” she ordered him.

As his friend stepped up to him, Timothy saw what it was. It was a gag of some kind, black and rubbery, with a long strap. He knew that it was going to go in his mouth and the strap would go behind his head to hold it. He stared at it, then as Rand raised it to his face, he turned his head with a low cry.

It was shaped like a small set of male genitals.

Susan laughed. “Oh no one will know, Timmy!” she laughed evilly, “I made that from a mold of Rand’s, you know, right before he began treatement almost two years ago! I’m sure his aren’t that big now, though. They’ll be IN your mouth, and no one will know that you’re pretending to suck his penis!”

Timothy began to cry as Rand secured the gag, telling him to just relax and open up and pretend to suck at it. “It’ll be easier if you do, Timmy,” he said as he secured the gag. He then turned to his Aunt.

“You’re not having fun, are you?” she asked.

Rand hung his flamingly red head. “No, ma’am. I’m sorry.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t like hurting Timmy,” he said nervously.

“But we’re HELPING him!” she corrected. “He’s going to feel so good when we’re done. Didn’t YOU feel good once you got used to your treatments?”

Rand nodded slowly and Timothy whimpered. He couldn’t move, and his mind raced at the prospect of everyone, his own mother notwithstanding, seeing him like that!

He was placed in the center of the large room, helpless and humiliated, strapped to the X-frame with no hope of escape. He sneered when he discovered that the thing had wheels, and that he could pretty much be taken anywhere. Rand had attached a small extension with a pillow on it behind his head, and tilted the frame a bit so that at least Timothy could lean his back and relax some. He continued to struggle with the bonds, stopping now and then to look down at his four inch erection peeking out of the guaze. It didn’t hurt, yet, but then the lidocaine that Rand had sneaked in to him hadn’t worn off yet either. He shuddered at the thought, imagining stitches popping loose as he grew more aroused.

Rand checked him over once again when he parked him in the center of the room.

“You don’t know how sorry I am, Timmy,” he whispered in his ear.

Humiliated as he was though, and desperately wanting to run to the first cop that he could find and file abuse charges, Timothy couldn’t be mad at Rand. As the boy turned and walked away, seemingly fighting with the plug in his butt as he always did, Timmy sighed and chewed on the obscene gag in his mouth. His own damaged penis was throbbing, rising up through the guaze a bit, and as he watched Rand go, the smooth round shape of his ass moving from side to side as he stepped lightly, Timothy began to wonder.

Why do I get hard when he’s around? Why do I stare at him? Why do I feel like this? And how did I end up in this mess to begin with? All I did was play with myself a little! How can they do this to me?!

Timmy was half hanging, half laying there on his X-cross when he heard footsteps. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been there, but it seemed like forever. Someone was coming up behind him, and it wasn’t Rand; the red-haired boy’s slippers made no sound on the polished wood floor. It sounded like heels, and Timothy began to shake again.

The footsteps came closer, and Jane stepped around the X-frame in front of her bound son.

Timothy very nearly died.

“Mmmpfhh!” she screamed into the gag, thankful that she couldn’t see what was IN his mouth on the other side of it.

She’ll be pissed! She’ll get me out of here and Susan will go to jail! It’s finally over!

“Well isn’t this just precious?” she asked.

Timothy’s stomach rolled and his heart sank. He held his breath.PRECIOUS?!

“Is he responding to the treatment?” Jane asked, and Timothy heard heels again. Her voice echoed in the room, and Susan came to join her. She handed her a tall glass of champaigne.

“He’s doing very well, Janey,” Susan replied, smiling, patting Timothy’s flaming red cheek. She pinched it a bit. Timothy winced.

“Well I’m glad you know what you’re doing, Susan. After everything Marla told me last night, I just wasn’t sure! I was so shocked! I mean, it does seem, well, rather mean and sort of ... kinky? Then when she had Ty undress for me to model his ... stuff ... well, I just wasn’t sure I could do it.” she stated. She then bent down in front of Timothy. “Oh, my! I see you circumcised him!”.

Timothy groaned. Now I know what a steak in the meat case at the grocery store feels like, he thought.

Susan sipped her drink and nodded. “It went very well. Rand helped. He even saved it for a souvenier.”

Jane smiled and sipped at HER drink. She kissed Timothy’s cheek and straightened his hair. “Mommy loves you, sweetheart,” she assured him, “And Monday you can come home. No school for you this week, you know. I’ll take the day off to take care of you. Marla said it was fine! She and Ty will be here soon, too. Won’t that be nice?”

Something inside of Timothy broke then as he pulled at his bonds one last time. Who all was coming to see him like this? Everyone in town?

He struggled as they watched him, Jane making ‘tsk tsk’ sounds. Then he gave up, slumping on the frame and beginning to cry.

“I think this is probably the most effective part, Janey,” Susan explained as Timothy hung his head so that his smooth chin touched his breastbone. “They know they can’t get away and everyone’s going to see what a bad boy they’ve been. Rand did this, Ty did this, hell every boy in town I’ve cured did this. But it’s good for them, you know. Instills the discipline they so badly need!”

Jane nodded. “Do whatever you think’s best to cure him of his nasty habits, Susan,” she agreed.

Timothy closed his eyes and listened to the sound of more footsteps. He then heard music begin to play, something from Mozart. It was full of strings and sounded nice, but it didn’t drown out the increasing amount of chatter that he could hear. More people were arriving, and he clenched his teeth down on the gag molded from Rand’s genitals and cursed them all in his mind. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter, imagining everyone filing by and looking at him.

No one touched him, but the commentary was wearing on him.

“Hello, Timmy ...”

“How’s Timmy doing?”

How the hell do you THINK I’m doing? he sulked to himself.

“Cute.”

“Adorable.”

“Good for him.”

“Look at that!”

“Won’t he feel better tomorrow?”

“Some boys just have to learn this way, you know.”

Timothy was reminded of the line of people who’d filed past his father’s casket at the funeral so long ago. He hardly remembered it, but when he finally opened his eyes, that was what he thought of.

MY funeral, he thought.

How many damn people are here?! he wondered.

Then he saw Ty and Marla. The dark lady was smiling, her perfect white teeth flashing at him. She sipped from a tall glass as well, and Ty stood beside her. He was dressed just like Rand, and he stood on the balls of his feet and fidgetted. He didn’t look at Timothy, though, and the boy could understand why. Glancing around, he saw about a dozen couples. Each lady was wearing a lovely gown in various colors, and each man was dressed in a tuxedo.

Each couple also had a teenage boy, some older, a few younger, and all of them dressed like Rand and Ty.

Timothy closed his eyes again as Marla bent down in front of him, her eyes wide. “Oooo, girl!” She called to Jane, “Didja lookit dat?! Timmy got a little hardie goin’, he’s so worked up! Bet dat hurts!” Then she reached down and touched the soft dusting of hair that was just exposed above the bandages. “Uh oh, Work with it, baby!” She advised, and Timothy could feel her rubbing his leg. “Cain’t have dat! Susan, hon, you gon’ shave that fluff off?”

“Don’t be so anxious, Marla!” Susan laughed, coming and taking her by the arm. “Let everyone else get a good look too before we clean him up!”

Timothy groaned. He opened his eyes and Ty nodded to him, following his mother and Susan as they moved on. He didn’t say anything; the look in his dark eyes said it all.

He knows how I feel, Timothy thought, They all do. They’ve been here, too. How can SHE DO this and get away with it?

Timothy’s question was answered when the last couple in line came in. They were both in police uniforms, and for a brief moment, he thought he’d been resuced! His heart sank again when he saw the boy with them, however, a teenager of about sixteen. His blonde hair was cut in a severe Ivy style, gelled up and shaved at the sides; he was dressed just like the rest of the boys. The only difference was a badge pinned to his harness.

All of Timothy’s hoped died then, and he stared helplessly at the woman’s badge. His eyes focused on one word above the name - CHIEF.

Shit! Timothy wailed inwardly, his head slumping down further. He could feel his face flaming, and his penis twitching despite the lidocaine. He desperately wanted to just crawl off and die, anywhere, in any way. Anything to stop the humiliation.

Then he noticed something else out the corner of his eye. It was a couple who must have passed by when he’d had his eyes closed. They were talking to Susan and Jane, and the two women were examining the crotch of a slim Asian boy who looked to be about Timothy’s and Rand’s age. He wasn’t dressed, or undressed, as the rest of the boys were, however. He was wearing a bright white knit collared shirt, tight, with a black bowtie; his black short pants were down around his ankles, and he wasn’t wearing a belt.

As Timothy focused in on him, blinking away tears, he saw that the boy also had black hair, straight, cut in bangs just above his eyebrows and stopping just above his ears. It all appeared to be one length, and when he turned his head, Timothy could see a long braided tail hanging in the back that was about a quarter of an inch wide. In the boy’s small, round ears, he wore gold loop earrings with a green bead on each one.

Timothy watched as his own mother reached down and touched the boy, who smiled. Timothy could hear him say something like, “No, it’s fine, ma’am. Yes. No. I like it. Thank you, ma’am.” He couldn’t hear what his mother was saying, though, and it bothered him that she would be just chatting and drinking and having a good time while her own son was being crucified right in front of her!

Why won’t she make them stop? Why doesn’t she get me out of here and take me home?! he wondered, staring at the Asian boy, who was pulling his snug shorts back up. Timothy couldn’t see what his mother had been looking at, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. What was so special about this boy, that he wasn’t on display too? He must be a good boy, Timothy imagined, then with a chill, Or he’s done with HIS treatment!

That gave the suffering boy some hope, that perhaps it WOULD end. But when?

There was a sound then of someone tapping a glass. Timothy, immobilized as he was, though, couldn’t see who was doing it. Then he heard his mother’s voice, and his heart very nearly stopped again. He slammed his eyes shut and bit down harder on the gag in shame as she spoke.

“Hello, everyone. As Susan probably told you on the invitations, my name’s Jane. I’m a single mother of one boy, who is currently on display as our centerpiece. Yes, he’s mine.”

There were comments of sympathy, and Timothy started shaking again.

“Thank you, thanks. As you can imagine, since you all have a boy of your own, Timmy’s not exactly been angelic since he hit puberty. He’s developed this attitude, his room’s a constant mess, and he tends to be mouthy. He’s totally self-absorbed, and he’s gotten into this nasty habit of playing with himself. Sometimes he takes so long in the bath, and you know what he’s DOING in there, that he looks like a prune when he gets out!”

There were comments of agreement and assurances that Timothy would be helped.

I think I’d rather die, he sighed to himself.

“And then, of course, there’s the issue of soiled bed clothes, you know, the wet dreams and stiff, smelly sheets along with the piles of nasty used Kleenex. That’s why I’ve brought him here, for treatment and discipline before he ruins himself.”

The crowd cheered, and Timothy couldn’t help it. He started crying again. He was frightened, true, but he was more embarrassed than anything. He was practically naked, and everyone, even total strangers, were staring at him and shaking their heads.

Then he heard Susan, and her words set him to struggling again, trying to break free.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, boys ... I hope you enjoy the evening’s entertainment and the refreshments. We’re almost ready to begin the next phase of little Timmy’s treatment, so everyone please feel free to watch and comment!”

There was applause then, and Timothy opened his eyes to see Rand spreading out a drop cloth of some kind on the floor under him. “For the floor, the mess you know,” he explained. He then walked out of Timothy’s sight for a moment, and returned with a wheeled cart full of strange looking things. Timothy stared in terror, still struggling, as his eyes fell on something red, some white tubing, and a wide leather belt on the top tray. Below it were things that looked like HBA products, and he tried to shrink back into the frame. On the lower cart were several gallons of saline solution.

Suddenly Susan was there, and she reached over as someone handed her a long surgical gown and a pair of rubber gloves. “The first thing we need to do is check Timmy’s circumcsion wound,” she stated, and everyone gathered around. Some of them even had opera glasses.

Timothy watched as she unbandaged his injured penis, and there ooh’s and aah’s at the site of his neat black stitches. Timothy silently thanked Rand for the numbing medication he’d sneaked in to him as Susan checked and cleaned the wound. When she was finished, she said, “As you can see, this wicked little boy has an erection. He must be enjoying himself, despite his demeanor. Don’t you think?”

More applause and agreements.

“Now, since he’s not going anywhere for a long time, we have the problem of him having to pee. Do you have to pee, Timmy?” she asked.

Timothy nodded, discovering that he did.

Susan then picked up a beige colored tube from the tray. It had a very small bump at one end, and two nozzles on the other. It was quite long. She then began lubing the strange tube. When she was ready, she said, “This is a small adult Foley catheter. I’m sure you all know what we need to do with this,” she said, and several of the boys groaned and looked away. She then grasped Timothy’s penis, which began to go limp in fear.

“Very good,” she said, sliding the tip of the tube into his urethra. She pushed, and it began to go in.

Timothy screamed into his gag and renewed his futile struggles. He could feel the tube sliding up inside of him. It stung and burned, and then suddenly he felt as if he had to desperately pee. That or cum, he didn’t know which. The tube stopped, and Susan waited a moment. She gave it one more push, and Timothy’s eyes went wide as it entered his bladder. Susan then inflated the tip, discarded the syringe, and hooked the long tube to a bottle that Rand had placed on the leg of the X-frame.

Timothy watched, stunned, as the tube filled with his own urine and drained into the bottle. There was more applause.

“That solved the peeing problem,” Susan stated, changing her gloves and picking up a bottle of some kind of cream. She opened it, and the smell was overpowering. “Now we come to the problem of this unsightly hair that Timmy’s growing all over his body!”

It’s just fuzz! he raged silently, Leave me alone! Don’t shave me, please, don’t!

Susan then began to spread the cream on his legs, working her way up. Despite the numbness of his catheterized penis, Timothy could feel the sting as she covered his pubic area and then his stomach and armpits. “We’ll let that sit for a bit,” Susan said, “How about another drink, everyone?”

I could use one too, the captive boy thought, and as if hearing him, Rand came over with a can of clear soda in his hand. He poured it into a small cup and looked at his friend.

“I know you need a drink, Timmy,” he said in a low voice, “and Aunt Susan said to give you half a can. I have to take your gag out, though. Please, Timmy, please don’t scream! Just drink it and don’t say a word! If you start screaming, then I’ll get punished for it, and so will you! Promise me, ok?”

Timothy nodded as best he could. “Mpfh Pwhmmfth,” he tried to say. Rand nodded and pulled the gag out of his mouth. Timothy worked his stiff jaw and swallowed a few times, hoping no one would see the backside of the gag. Rand held the cup to his lips, and he drank it. “Not so fast!” He warned.

It seemed like the half can was gone in no time. “How’s the cream?” Rand asked.

“Burns,” Timothy whispered, “stinks.”

Rand nodded, replacing the gag. “I’m really sorry,” he said in voice bordering on tears. “I guess you won’t want to have anything to do with me when this is over.”

Timothy stared at him, realizing that being Susan’s “assistant” had probably cost Rand any chance at making a friend in this town. Certainly every boy in the area had to be scared to death of his Aunt, and him! It was a safe bet that the red-haired boy had no friends.

Timothy looked deep into his eyes, and his penis twitched, despite the catheter. He felt as if he were peeing down his leg, but he also noticed that he wasn’t getting hard. “Can I finish this ‘for it goes flat?” he asked, holding up the can. Timothy nodded. “Yes on the soda?”

Timothy shook his head as best he could, and his hair fell into his face. Rand’s expression was puzzled. “Yes, as in, you still wanna be my friend?” Timothy nodded, paused, then nodded again. He saw Rand’s eyes fill with tears, but the boy didn’t cry. He bit his lower lip, and finished the soda. Then Susan was back.

“Ready, Rand?” she asked.

“Yes ma’am,” the boy replied, putting on a pair of gloves and picking up a rough cloth.

“Rand will now wipe Timmy down and relieve him of that nasty hair. It will be weeks before it even tries to come back in.”

There was brief applause as Rand set to work. He wiped roughly, stopping to clean the coarse cloth off as he went. With each stroke he made, Timothy could see the cream coming off with hair in it. His skin felt as if it were on fire, and he was sweating. Rand did his entire body, except for his scalp and smooth face, then paused at his genitals. He was very careful around Timothy’s wounded penis, and when he was done, Timothy was trembling, but not in fear.

It was all he could do not cum in front of eveyrone as Rand smoothed his hair back again and checked him over. He looked so close that Timothy could feel his exhaled breath hot on his damp skin. Why am I feeling like this? I’m not a pervert! I shouldn’t be here! Rand’s a boy, and I’m not gay!

Yet Timothy knew pleasure when he felt it.

“That’s enough,” Susan said dangerously, and Rand pulled back.

“I didn’t miss any, Aunt Susan,” he reported.

“Let’s hope not. If anyone finds one, you’ll get one swat with the belt for every one that they find.”

Rand’s face paled, and suddenly everyone was filing by again, most of them stopping to touch Timothy’s smooth and hairless body. To his dismay, Timothy found that he actually liked the feel of the warm hands touching his bare skin. He continued to tremble, and most everyone thought that it was out of fear.

When they were all done, it seemed that no one found any stray hairs. Rand almost fainted in relief. He was then handed a cape of some kind by Susan, and wrapped it around the captive boy’s neck and spread it down as best he could over his uplifted and immobilized arms. There were slits in the cape, and as if fell down to cover him completely, Timothy sighed in relief at being somewhat hidden.

Then Jane was there, rubbing her son’s head and telling him how well he was doing and how much she loved him.

If you loved me, you’d get me the hell out of this mess! he thought, and his stare wasn’t a very nice one. His nose twitched, and Jane patted his cheek.

“I know you’re angry with mommy, sweetheart, but Susan saw that, you know. I’m afraid you’re in trouble now. Please try to be good until this is all over.”

Then Timothy’s ears filled with an angry roar. He turned his head, shook his long hair out of his eyes, and saw Susan standing there with a pair of Wahl cordless hair clippers in her hand.

Timothy began to struggle again, screaming into his gag. The crowd laughed at him, sipping at their drinks. He could hear things like, “Sheepdog. Haircut ... how long’s it been? What a mess. Look at that mop. Wonder if she’ll shave him too? He’d be cute bald ...” and the list went on.

Timothy saw there was no depth guide on the clippers as she approached. His eyes were pleading as she lowered the clippers near his ear, and his head filled with the roar.

“Aunt Susan, please?” came a voice over the roar, and the clippers shut off.

“Yes dear?” she asked, sweetly.

Rand was holding up a #2, quarter inch depth guide comb. His eyes were pleading, and his hand was shaking, making him almost drop it.”

“Are you sure?” she asked dangerously, and Rand gulped. He nodded.

“Please d-don’t shave him down to nothin’,” he implored.

The crowd gasped, and comments of brave Rand was ran through the crowd. There were also comments on how he must like Timmy, to risk his own safety to save a quarter inch of Timothy’s mane.

Susan attached the guide comb and looked at her nephew, whose own hair was about that length. She smiled. “You realize that this is going to cost you, Rand?” she asked.

Rand nodded, but Timothy was trying to scream, “No! Don’t hurt him! You can shave me bald, just don’t hurt him over this! It’s not important, please don’t!” His cries came out as muffled nonsense however, but Susan seemed to get the point.

She turned back to Timothy, who was crying again at the thought of what she’d do to Rand when she was done with him. “You can thank Rand later, Timmy,” she crooned. “He’s offering the skin off of his butt for you, you know. I think that five good lashes should be punishment enough for his interruption.”

Timothy groaned and hung his head. The last thing he’d wanted was to do something that would hurt his friend, miserable and humiliated as he was. He didn’t move as the clippers came back on. He just stared in misery as his long hair fell down the cape and piled up at his bare feet on the drop cloth.

“Finish him up, Rand, and trim around his ears,” he heard Susan order.

Rand did as he was told, changing over to a fade guide to go around his friend’s ears. When he was done, Timothy had a nice #2 fade cut and Rand even razor edged it and brushed away the clippings.

Everyone cheered, and of course, had to come rub Timothy’s head. Rand was the last one to do so, under the watchful eye of his Aunt. “You like it? It’s like mine,” he offered in consolation. Timothy actually smiled and nodded. As he stared at Rand, he realized that he did like it, and also realized that his stomach was rolling and that he was tensing up inside. He was trembling again, and as Rand held up a small mirror for him, Timothy again had to fight down the urge to cum as he looked at his buzzed head and back to Rand.It’s gotta be what they’re doing to me. It’s like reverse psychology or something! Tryin’ to mess up what I think I want and all. Why do I FEEL like this? Why do I LIKE it? I’m not supposed to like it! Timothy asked himself in despair.

When the cape was taken away, the guests all milled around a bit and chatted. A few of the other boys looked in his direction, but none of them spoke to him. Timothy didn’t blame them for being resentful. They knew what he was going through, and watching him suffering was probably making them all have flashbacks - or erections, which given the tightness of their belts, probably hurt.

Only the Asian teen boy seemed interested, and Timothy saw him asking his mother and then Jane something. They both nodded, and the boy led them over to Timothy. “Hi!” he said in a voice that was trying (and failing) to settle into a manly tone.

Timothy nodded to him.

“My name’s Lee. It’s spelled L-i but you say it ‘Lee’. I saw no one else was talking to you, and well, I know you can’t talk back right now, but I just wanted to say hello. You looked very lonely over here by yourself.”

Timothy looked at him and nodded again. What was so special about Lee that he wasn’t dressed up like a little leather puppet and locked up in the belt like the other boys were? Timothy looked him up and down, studying the tight black shorts and the snug white shirt and tie. Lee even had real sneakers on his feet, not the funny black slippers that the rest of the boys wore. And why were his earrings different, when all of the other boys had silver with red beads and he had gold with green?

Lee smiled at him. “Can I touch him?” he asked his mother, “I mean, just rub his head?”

“Ask Jane,” his mother replied.

“May I, ma’am?”

Jane nodded and Timothy bent his head down in defeat. His own mother was playing along with torturing him! Lee rubbed his head and smiled. “Mother, it’s been a very long time since I had a buzz like that, all but for my braid. I think I’d like to have one, if you would let me.”

“We’ll see, son,” she replied, “But you have been very good since you finished your treatment, so we’ll think about it, deal?”

Lee smiled and stepped back, putting his hands behind his back and standing there with his feet spread apart. He walked flat on his feet, normally, Timothy noticed. Must not have a plug shoved up his ass, he thought.

Yet she’d said that Lee was finished, and Timothy wanted to know what that meant. He couldn’t exactly ask though, in his current predicament. Then Rand was there. “Hi, Lee,” he said in a soft voice.

“Hello, Rand. Nice job you did on Timmy’s haircut.”

“Thank you,” Rand said, turning to examine Timothy’s bonds and his overall wellbeing. He got him another soda, and his eyes were begging when he started to lower the gag. Then turned and pulled a straw from the cart, and stuck it in the corner of Timothy’s mouth. Timothy relaxed in relief, sucking down the cold soda as if he were dying of thirst and grateful that his friend hadn’t pulled the embarrassing molded gag out for everyone to see.

Next came the installation of the earrings, which wasn’t bad compared to what he’d been through so far. The needle slid through his earlobes with only a very slight bit of pain, and when Rand held up the mirror for Timothy to look at them, he smiled around his gag and nodded. Rand then put the mirror down and leaned in a bit. He grasped the open rings one by one, and snapped them shut. Everyone applauded.

“I’m glad you like them, Timmy,” Susan said, putting away her piercing needle, “Because they’re specially made! Oh, and they don’t open, either, so don’t ever think about taking them out. Everyone who sees you will now know that you’re undergoing treatment.”

I knew there’d be a fuckin’ catch to it, Timothy fumed.

Susan then got everyone’s attention again, once they were done examining Timothy’s near earrings. Even Lee touched his ears, getting permission first; he then touched his own gold ones. “You should think about this,” he advised Timothy, “You could save yourself a lot of suffering if you do.”

“Lee!” The Asian lady behind warned, “Don’t spoil the surprise for him!”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know he didn’t know yet!” Lee’s voice rose in panic. Susan was there near her cart full of torture devices, as Timothy thought of it, and she smiled.

“No harm, done Lee. It’s nice to see a polite boy like yourself so concerned for the welfare of Timmy here. You could go and talk to Rand, though while I work on Timmy some more. We’re ready to take him down and get him dressed now.”

Timothy’s heart leapt! Finally, they were taking him down. His arms had since gone to sleep, and his feet hurt from standing, even though he was reclined a bit. Then Susan undid his left hand, and he bent it down with a sigh. He stretched it a bit, and she let his right arm loose. Still secured the waist and legs, though, Timothy wasn’t going anywhere. He then watched in amazement as Susan attached a short bar between his ankles, spread as they were, hooking it to the ankle cuffs which came off of the X-frame with a snap.

She then bent him forward a bit, and dressed him in a black harness like Rand’s. She fitted him with a new collar as well, clipped his catheter closed and unhooked it from the bottle, and then undid the waist belt’s D rings.

Timothy lost his balance and fell forward, but Ty’s father, Luther, was there by his wife and son and dropped his drink to catch him. “Good move, Luuutha!” Marla shouted. The crowd applauded as Luther stood Timothy back up on his spread feet.

“Thank you, sir,” Susan said, smiling. “Oh do be a dear and hand me those cuffs, would you, Luther?”

The large black man handed her the cuffs, which she attached to Timothy’s wrists. Luther held him by the upper arms, his hands huge and crushing, as she secured his hands behind his back to the strap that ran from collar to belt. When they were done, except for his bare feet, Timothy was dressed the like the rest of the boys.

Naturally, everyone but the boys applauded.

At Susan’s insistence, Timothy mumbled an incoherent apology around his gag to Luther for falling. Luther clapped him on the back, which knocked him off balance again. Unable to catch himself with the bar holding his feet apart, Timothy fell into his strong arms again and everyone laughed.

“Oh, just put him down, Luther. It’s time to tend to his little butt anyway. Then she noticed his erection.

“What ARE we going to do with you, Timmy?” she demanded, pointing.

Murmurs of disgust ran through the crowd, as they began to discuss Timothy’s apparent sexual arousal.

Timothy looked down at his mostly numb penis. It was erect, as usual, staring him right in the face. The purplish colored and freshly exposed glans was wet with precum, which ran down in a small rivulet to the ring of black stitches. It bobbed and twitched in time with his heartbeat, and he longed to reach down and touch it.

“I think that it’s time, since you’re on the floor anyway, to give you that colon maintenance I promised you, Timmy,” she said, “And to employ a very old cure for chronic erections and arousal! Oh, Rand,” she called, and Rand was there, visibly shaken. “Go fetch a gallon of chilled water from the kitchen and hurry it up!”

Timothy swallowed hard, and found himself unable to get up. Luther had placed him on the drop cloth on his knees, and Susan made him lay down. His rock hard erection, all four inches of it, pressed down into the floor. It didn’t hurt, but he didn’t know how much time had gone by either. He watched in terrified fascination as Susan put on new gloves and began lubing up a very small bulb of some kind. She then attached the white hose to it, and waited with the red bag. When Rand returned, panting, she poured the cold water into the red bag and shot something else into it. She attached the hose to the red bag, shook it, and looked at Timothy.

“This is called an ‘enema,’ Timmy. Aunt Susan’s going to stick this little bulb in your tight little butt and fill you up with some nice cold water and meds that will irritate the lining of your colon. The LAST thing on your perverse little mind then will be your penis, I can assure you. Brace yourself, because this isn’t going to be fun!”

Rand helped Timothy to roll onto his left side and released the bar between his legs so that he could pull Timothy’s right leg up towards his chest. Timothy winced as he felt the gloved fingers moving around, and then INTO, his anus. His penis throbbed as the lube was spread, and the crowd murmured.

Then, with Rand holding his hand, Timothy felt the small bulb being inserted. He didn’t like it at all as it slid in. He moaned and cried into his gag, and suddenly the bulb felt like it was getting bigger!

“The bulb inflates,” Susan explained, “so that it cannot come out. That way, he’s plugged so that none of the infusion can escape. He has to hold the cold mixture for fifteen minutes, and since it’s his first, and it’s cold, AND it’s full of meds, he’s going to be in quite a bit of distress! Some of you may want to leave.”

No one did.

Timothy’s eyes grew wide as she held up the red bag and let the sealing clip loose. He flinched and tried to squirm as the cold mixture invaded his bowels, but Rand held him down. “Don’t move around, Timmy, please!” He advised, “Just lay there and wait, trust me. I lived through it, you will too.”

Very slowly, the two-quart bag flattened out as Timothy’s stomach expanded. He could feel it going into him, filling him up, and the cramps were amazing. He tried to scream into the gag, and gripped Rand’s hand tightly.

By the time it was done, he looked as if he’d swallowed a soccer ball and he was rolling from side to side in pain. Susan detached part of the white tubing and they all watched his suffering, sipping their drinks. The inflated bulb, working its way into his rectum with each thrash, only made things worse. He pushed as if trying to expell it, but had no luck.

When the fifteen minutes were almost past, Susan and Rand got him to his feet and half dragged him, hands still cuffed behind his back, to the attached bathroom. Susan aimed him at the standard tub and began to deflate the bulb. Very slowly she pulled it out. When it was almost there, they leaned him over the edge of the tub and pulled it out.

It came out with a sucking sound, and Timothy, shivering with cold and wracked by the worst cramps he’d ever known, let the mix go.

The resulting explosion was intense, and he sighed heavily in relief. When he was done, they cleaned him up and led him back to the big room where eveyrone cheered. Timothy hung his head in shame, still chilled. His erection, however, WAS gone. In fact, his genitals had drawn up to the point of looking ridiculously small.

“And now for his cool saline rinse,” Susan told them, to much applause.

Timothy looked up at her, crying openly and shaking his head. It felt like thousands of ants were crawling around inside of him, and his anus itched. “I’m sorry, Timmy,” she said in a soothing voice, rubbing his fuzzy head, “But you have to rinse. If we don’t, the remaining meds will just make you itch and suffer.”

Timothy was placed back on the dropcloth and the procedure was repeated. This time, the cramps weren’t nearly so bad. He looked up at everyone watching him, face red with humilitation, and wondered what else they could do to him.

All I did was jack off, he mourned silently. Why are they doing this to me? Why won’t mom just make it stop, take me home?

He cried again in the bathroom, grateful that only Rand was there with him. When he was done and cleaned up again, Rand finally spoke. “They’re not so bad when she uses really warm water, Timmy. In fact, it feels really good when you’re cleaned out like that. Trust me, it’ll get better. I promise.” He then unclipped the catheter, draining Timmy’s bladder to be safe, and reclipped it. He stared at the yellow double-ended tube protruding from his now-limp penis and sighed, wondering what it felt like coming out.

As if he knew the question, Rand said, “It sucks. I hated it.”

Still gagged, all that Timothy could do was stare at Rand with wide eyes. He shook his head, and Rand held him for a few minutes while he cried into his shoulder. Then, regretfully, he led him back out into the big room to more applause. “It’s almost over,” Rand promised, “There’s only two more things to go.”

He was then led to a carpet covered box that had been brought in, and was made to kneel in front of it. The box was anchored to screw-eyes in the floor, so that it couldn’t move. Timothy was bent over it, the surface of it just at waist level, and his hands were uncuffed from behind him and secured stretched out over the box. His ankle cuffs were secured to screw-eyes in the floor, and he realized that his exposed butt was aimed at everyone. The crowd was pleased, and most of the ladies felt obligated to come up and slap, pinch, or simply touch his round butt cheeks and comment on what a nice butt he had.

They’re gonna spank me now, Timothy thought.

“And now for the spanking!” Susan boomed. The applause was thunderous.

Godammit, Timothy thought, chewing at the gag in fear.

Susan had told them all of his transgressions, embarrassing him again. Then she’d talked about his performance at her house and in the office.

“Timmy badgered Rand for information,” she’d said, “And tried to trick him. If Rand weren’t so smart, and a good boy, he’d be on the spanking box first! But Rand didn’t fall for it, and he was good to Timmy. He even offered to be punished to spare Timmy a headshaving, but we’ll get to that later. He’s helped with his friend’s treatment, and that deserves to be rewarded too. But Timmy seems to be easily aroused, he’s got an erection all the time, and frankly, we have to explore the option of beating his bare butt to cure him. I’m sure you all understand. That and he has yet to learn proper manner and forms of address. OH, and can you believe that he even got hard and almost blew his stitches when he came to?”

The crowd had erupted again, and Timmy heard, when the hushed aniticipation fell upon them, one voice.

“Please, Aunt Susan, don’t make me hit him. I don’t want to hit him! I’ll do anything, ma’am, just don’t make me do it!”

“Rand,” she replied soothingly, stroking his smooth cheek and kissing his forehead as he trembled in fear, “If you don’t want to, you don’t have to. YOU haven’t been spanked in a long time though. You’ve already got one coming for the hair clipper outburst, you know. Do you really want to add to it? You’ve been such a good boy.”

Slowly, Rand nodded. “I can’t hit him, ma’am,” he sniffled, dropping the leather belt on the floor.

“That’s OK, Rand. When we’re done with Timmy, we can attend to you too.”

Timothy, however, was throwing a fit and trying to break free. He screamed curses into his gag, bit at it, tried to chew his way through it. He pulled at the cuffs until he felt something in his left wrist go, then his face went white and he stopped.

The crowd’s entertainment stopped. Susan rushed forward and pulled his gag, hiding it with her body between them. “What did you do to yourself?” she demanded.

“Please don’t hurt him!” he cried, “I don’t care what you do to me anymore, kill me if you want to but don’t hurt Rand! It’s not his fault, it’s mine! All he wants is a friend, someone to play with! You hurt him enough already! Leave him alone you sick bitch!”

A gasp ran through the crowd, and Jane swooned as Luther caught her.

Susan, however shocked, remained professional. She was clinically detached as she loosened Timothy’s left arm. The crowd gasped again. Jane came over, with Luther’s help and was a bit unsteady, but Timothy wouldn’t look at her.

“What is it?” she asked, obviously a bit gone into the champaigne.

Susan gingerly tested Timothy’s wrist, and free of his gag, he howled in pain.

“It’s not broken,” she announced, “Just a bad sprain. Oh well, on with the show!”

She then secured his injured arm, carefully, and replaced his gag. He cursed and spit at her the whole time, fighting her, but she just smiled. “Dig your hole a bit deeper, little boy,” she chided. “When I’m done with you you’re going to need a butt transplant!”

She then turned on Rand. “YOU,” she ordered, “On the othe side. Assume the position and lock your ankles down. Then stretch out your arms.

Rand’s eyes teared up, but he did as he was told. When he was locked in place opposite of Timmy, they stared into each other’s eyes as Susan took a practice swing with the belt. It whistled as it cut through the air and both captive boys tried hard not to cry.

The first swing hit Timothy across the left cheek, leaving a two inch wide red mark across that one white side. His eyes went wide, and he bit down on the gag hard. He screamed into it, and Rand stared in fascination at the belt as Susan swung it again. The ‘KERRAKK’ sound that it made as it left a long red welt across Timothy’s right cheek echoed in their ears, and the crowd clapped and cheered.

Timothy then felt the sensation of pins and needles running through his stitched up penis and realized that the lidocaine was wearing off. The third strike hit him across both cheeks, and the fresh, hot pain that seared through his backside was unbelievable! He’d been spanked before, but never anything like this! He could feel himself getting hard again, and as sensation slowly came back to his penis, he felt it digging into the carpet. Oh God, no! Please no! he prayed as felt his insides tightening and the crack of the belt driving through him again and again. His entire existence became nothing but pain again, and suddenly his circumcision began to feel like a massage in comparison. He grunted and jerked as the belt struck his welted and reddened cheek again and again, and he found himself almost drifting, awash in an ocean of incredible agony.

He struggled weakly as the spanking continued, but by the fifteenth blow of the leather belt, he lost count and the world began to spin before him.

He opened his eyes, looked into Rand’s which were right in front of him, and pulled himself up a bit. Their noses touched, and some bit of relief flooded through him through that one soft spot. The belt struck him again, and Timothy finally fainted.