I'd Rather Just Get a Spanking!
By David

Copyright 2009 by David, all rights reserved

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This story is intended for ADULTS ONLY. It contains explicit depictions of sexual activity involving minors. If you are not of a legal age in your locality to view such material or if such material does not appeal to you, do not read further, and do not save this story.
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Christopher Conway was not a happy boy. In keeping with the arrangement following his parents' divorce he'd been dropped off to spend the weekend with his father. The problem was that - once again - he'd arrived to discover that it was that time of the month again. Christopher's father was in the military and at least one weekend a month, sometimes more, he attended training exercises. That meant father and son probably wouldn't see each other until late Sunday night, right when Christopher left for home.

These mix ups were happening with more frequency as of late. Dates were forgotten, phone calls were missed and confusion ensued. More and more often Christopher and his mother arrived after a five hour drive only to discover that "something came up." Christopher's mom would then turn the car around and they'd drive the long way back, her fussing all the way and he wallowing in tears and disappointment. At ten years of age - well, ten and a half - he tried to not cry too much, but it was frustrating to miss out on seeing his father and he just couldn't help it.

On this occasion Christopher's mom couldn't take him home. She was heading the other direction, driving to the state capital to meet with some buyers and have dinner with her old college friends. After discovering that he wouldn't see his dad on this visit, Christopher begged to go with her, but that wasn't about to happen. He was going to spend the weekend with his stepmother.

"I'm sorry, sweetie, but Momma's going to be with a bunch of adults all weekend. We're not going to be going anywhere fun and you'd be awful bored. Why don't you stay here with Rhetta? She doesn't mind and, who knows, you might get to see your daddy."

Christopher didn't like that idea at all, but he was a good soldier and nodded and did as he was told. His father's wife, Rhetta, was not his favorite person. A buxom beauty several years junior to his mother, she had raven hair and piercing eyes. In addition to her exotic looks Christopher's young stepmother exuded a cold sternness that the youngster found intimidating. A simple glance and a raised eyebrow were enough to send a chill down his spine. She also had an odd sense of humor, saying things that Christopher often didn't understand but were amusing to the adults. Amid all the chuckles and laughter he usually felt left out of the joke and suspected that he was oftentimes perhaps its focus.

Above all else, however, Rhetta was a spanker. Christopher knew this all too well. It didn't happen often, but on several occasions the ten year old crossed paths with his overbearing stepmother and he always came out the loser. It seemed incomprehensible that this total stranger could have such power over him, but it was painfully true. Over the past year she'd pulled his pants down and spanked his bare butt at least a dozen times, usually over the most minute, almost silly things like not putting away the dishes fast enough or telling the occasional little white lie. As inconsequential as these things seemed to Christopher, they took on a whole new meaning in Rhetta's eyes.

An instance of Christopher's stepmother making a mountain out of a mole hill came during the previous visit when Rhetta turned a simple case of Christopher not brushing his teeth into a capital offense, complete with conspiracy charges and accusations of lying and mutiny.

"Did you or did you not brush your teeth, young man?" his stepmother demanded as she unfastened his belt and undid his pants. "You already got caught in one lie, don't make me go to your father and tell him you lied again."

"But, Rhetta, I'll do it!" the desperate boy blubbered. "I-I-I d-d-didn't mean to lie. Please, Rhetta, please don't spank me ...."

These "lectures" almost always took place just before bedtime, right when Rhetta could take full advantage of the situation. Christopher would be completely undressed and forced to stand naked as his interrogator scolded and taunted him. His pajamas were barely out of arm's reach, but they just as well have been at the bottom of the ocean. To his shame and embarrassment the youngster always ended up crying like a baby. He'd then be pulled over his stepmother's firm lap and receive anywhere from a dozen to two dozen slaps on his bare bottom. Afterward he'd be sent to stand in the corner until it was time for him to go to bed.

"Maybe that will teach you a lesson," she'd always say. "Maybe one of these days you'll learn to give me a little respect!"

What bothered Christopher almost as much as the spankings - almost - was how his father let this intruder do as she pleased. He complained to his dad the first time Rhetta blistered his bottom, but instead of being sympathetic, Mr. Conway took his bride's side ... and then some.

"I don't care what you think. You are the child, we are the adults. Your new mother has my blessing to do whatever it takes to keep you in line and ...."

"She's not my mother," Christopher interrupted. "She's my stepmother!"

The glare on his father's face sent a chill down his spine.

"As far as I'm concerned she's your mother. You will do whatever she says, and that includes getting a spanking if that's what it takes. Especially when I'm not here. Do you understand me, little mister?"

"Yes, Dad," the worried ten year old replied.

"You better. Now, apologize for being an ungrateful little brat or I'll give you a whipping myself!"

Standing on the front porch of his father's house, Christopher thought about all this as his mother drove off for her appointment in the big city. The sky was dark with clouds and the wind picked up with the first sprinkling of an incoming rainstorm. The youngster shivered as his father's young wife put her hand on his shoulder.

"Don't bother unpacking," Rhetta said, picking up his overnight bag. "Since your daddy's gone we're going to my girlfriend's house for the weekend."

Despite the rain and a few sporadic instances of lightning, the drive to visit his stepmother's friend was pleasant enough. Rhetta talked about how much fun they were going to have visiting "Aunt Mabel" and how he would get to play with her nephew, Charlie.

"You'll like Charlie," Rhetta said, taking a drag from her cigarette. "He's about your age and just as cute. I expect you two will become the best of friends. Just don't give me any trouble and we'll all be just fine."

Christopher watched the dark clouds and nodded. In his mind he tried to calculate the number of hours and minutes before his mother would come to take him home.

* * *

Despite his fears Christopher was pleasantly surprised. Rhetta was right. Charlie was a lot like him. In fact, they could have been brothers. Except for Charlie's dark hair and freckles and Christopher's "peaches and cream" complexion and blond hair, they talked, laughed and giggled like two of a kind. Like his guest, Charlie loved all things military and the freckle-faced boy was especially impressed when he saw Christopher's collection of GI Joe action figures. Kept in a special suitcase that Christopher took with him everywhere, these were the full-sized ones, too, with real uniforms and helmets and guns and everything! Charlie was ecstatic when he saw all the neat toys and Christopher was pleased. The two friends made immediate plans to go to war against an imaginary enemy.

Maybe this weekend wouldn't be so bad after all, Christopher thought as he glowed in his new friend's admiration.

Aunt Mabel wasn't so bad, either. Where Rhetta was sometimes stern and belittling in her manner, "Auntie" - as she insisted on being called - was as cheerful and fun as she was plump and pretty. Christopher was fascinated by the woman's huge breasts, which were much larger than either his mother's modest bosom or his stepmother's beauties. He also liked her laugh, which was loud and hearty and indicated that she enjoyed having fun.

Not quite as interesting to Christopher, Mabel was a lifelong bachelorette and had inherited her parents' house, which was large and spacious. Her family consisted of her sister, two nieces and Charlie. The sister and nieces all happened to be away for the weekend, which was why Rhetta and Christopher were visiting.

"I'm so glad you came over to keep me company!" Christopher's new aunt said for the umpteenth time that evening. "Pamela took the girls on a shopping spree in the city and left Charlie with me for the weekend. We were just about to have some fun, but it'll be nice to have some adult leadership in the house."

"You need it, that's for sure," Rhetta said dryly.

"Chrissy, I just don't know how you put up with this old witch!" the jovial Mabel said. She tousled the blushing boy's hair and gave him a little tickle under his chin. "She can be so mean sometimes."

Not knowing what to say, Christopher nodded his head and replied, "I dunno. She's all right, I guess."

"I'm just 'all right?' That's a fine thing to say to a woman," Rhetta said, sniffing back a fake tear. "Don't you love your wicked old stepmother?"

Mabel pulled Christopher close, pressing his face into her huge breasts. "Don't let her get to you, little one. You just come to Auntie if she gives you any problems."

Barely able to breath, the blond boy nodded his head and savored the sensation of being buried between such magnificent titties.

The boys began setting up their war plans in the living room while the two old friends headed for the kitchen.

"Don't worry about them," Rhetta commented. "Christopher brought his dollies to play with. He takes them everywhere he goes. They'll be busy for hours."

"Dollies? Really?" Auntie Mabel watched with curiosity as Christopher began laying out his plastic one-sixth scale arsenal in a very methodical manner. "What a coincidence! My pretty little Charlie likes playing with dollies, too, don't you sweetie?"

Christopher shot a bewildered look at his new friend. Charlie's face turned white, then red.

"Well, I, um ...." The youngster stammered for a moment, then went silent.

"Oh, Charlie, don't be shy. You know it's true!" Auntie Mabel sang brightly. The cheerful woman opened up a closet and pulled out two large cardboard boxes.

"Here you go, my little darlings. Charlie plays with these old Barbies all the time. There's tons of little dresses and shoes and things, everything you need!"

Christopher couldn't believe his eyes when he saw the collection of fashion dolls and clothes in the boxes. Was this woman stupid or something? He wasn't going to play with those! He wasn't a stupid sissy!

"We don't want any stupid Barbies!" he yelled. "These are not dollies, they're action figures! These are soldiers!"

The plump woman winked. "Mmmm, they look like dollies to me. Either way, you don't have to be ashamed, honey. I think it's kind of cute!"

Christopher looked at his stepmother. Rhetta didn't say a word, but she didn't have to. A subtle smile curled her lips and that one evil eyebrow lifted as if to say, "Well?"

"I'm not ashamed and they're not dollies!" the frustrated boy fumed. Turning to his new friend he rolled his eyes. "Geez, doesn't she know anything?"

Charlie shrugged as the two women left the living room. "I wouldn't start anything with Auntie if I were you. I'd just nod and smile and go on. She can be pretty mean sometimes."

Christopher blinked. "What do you mean, she's mean? Auntie Mabel is the nicest lady I've seen in a long time. A lot nicer than my stepmother!"

The freckle-faced boy shook his head. "That's what she wants you to think. She's mean all right. The worst kind of mean. She's the tickle monster!"

"What are you talking about, the tickle monster? That doesn't make any sense. She's really nice." Charlie sighed.

"The tickle monster is nice. Even when she's mean she's nice. That's why she's so scary. She comes at you with a big grin and kisses you all over and hugs you. Then she tickles you."

"She tickles you?" Christopher wrinkled his nose. "What's so bad about that?"

Charlie sighed. "You don't understand. She doesn't just tickle you. She TICKLES you! She tickles you so much, so hard that you beg her to stop. But she doesn't stop. She keeps on tickling you until you start crying. You beg her to stop and you tell her you'll do anything she says." The dark haired boy paused. "And I mean ANYTHING! And then it gets worse."

Christopher's eyes were wide with disbelief. Surely his new friend was making all this up. All this tickling and you end up crying? That didn't make any sense.

"Worse? What could be worse? Does she spank you? Does she hurt you?"

"No, it doesn't hurt. That's not the point." Charlie was obviously annoyed that he wasn't getting through to his friend. "Tickling is worse than spanking. Oh, sure, spanking hurts for a little while, but they can't spank you forever. And once the spanking is over, it's over."

"My stepmother's spankings are pretty bad," Christopher replied with a pout.

"Maybe so. But it's still not as bad as tickling." The darker headed of the two shook his head. "Trust me, I've had both and you definitely don't want tickling. Tickling never stops. With tickling they can get you to do anything they want and make it sound like it was your idea."

"They make it sound like it was your idea?" Christopher frowned. "Like what? Is that what she was talking about when she said you liked playing with Barbies?"

Charlie's face turned red again. He shook his head in frustration. "Aw, never mind. I don't wanna talk about it anymore. Let's play GI Joes!"

* * *

For more than an hour the two new friends had a wonderful time. They'd saved the world at least twice and were talking about their next mission. Action figures and accessories were scattered everywhere. Looking around at the mess Christopher decided it was time to take a break.

"Hey, before we get started again, wanna see something neat?"

Charlie was in the process of changing uniforms on the GI Joe he was playing with. It was an underwater assignment, which called for the official Navy SEAL wetsuit and official frogman gear. Shrugging his shoulders, he nodded.

"Sure. What do you got?"

With a grin Christopher dug into his military-style suitcase and produced a magazine. Charlie's eyes widened when he saw the naked woman on the cover.

"Um, that's not a good idea. Auntie doesn't allow that kind of stuff in her house."

Christopher sniffed. "What are you, five years old? Don't worry about it. She's downstairs with my dumb ol' stepmother. What she don't know won't hurt her."

The freckle-faced boy looked around and thought for a moment. Then he nodded. "Okay, let's take a look."

The two boys huddled together and looked through the magazine with the attention to detail you'd expect from a pair of scientists. They slowly turned each page, marveling at the statuesque women depicted within, licking their lips and giggling nervously.

"Look at this one," Christopher said hoarsely. "Her titties look like they're floating in the air."

Charlie nodded. "Yeah. They look like Auntie Mabel's titties."

"Yeah, they kinda do," the blond boy replied. "I bet they're beautiful."

Charlie blushed. "They are. They're prettier than these."

Christopher's eyes grew wide. "What? Are you saying you've seen your aunt's titties? How'd that happen?"

The dark headed boy shrugged. "I dunno. It just did."

Christopher shook his head. "No kidding?"

"No kidding," Charlie said with a giggle.

Christopher Conway stretched out on the floor and sighed. "Wow. That musta been great! Your aunt is really pretty ... even if she's kinda fat."

A creaking noise sounded behind the two boys, followed by a loud feminine voice suddenly yelling, "Who are you calling FAT?"

The two friends turned around to see Rhetta and Aunt Mabel standing over them. Christopher glanced at his friend and saw terror in the other boy's eyes. His own eyes began burning and he felt a sick feeling in his belly.

Things suddenly didn't look so good.

* * *

"Where did you get this magazine?" asked Aunt Mabel. "Charlie, honey bunny, you know Auntie doesn't like that kind of thing."

Charlie looked at Christopher and shrugged his shoulders. "It's not mine, Auntie. I promise. I was just looking at it."

The plump woman nodded. "I see. So, it's not yours, but you admit looking at it? Did I hear you right?"

The freckle-faced boy nodded, then shook his head. "It wasn't my fault, Auntie! I ... I just looked. I didn't bring it in the house! Honest!"

Aunt Mabel smiled. "I understand, honey bunny. Still, you looked at it. And when I came in you were giggling over it, too. Weren't you?"

"Yes ... yes, ma'am." Tears were now streaming down the boy's face. "I ... I'm s-s-sorry, Auntie. I didn't mean to do anything wrong."

The smiling woman reached down and tousled her nephew's dark hair. "Don't be sad, honey bunny. Auntie doesn't want you sad. She just wants you to do the right thing, that's all."

Christopher gulped. In contrast to his friend's aunt, Rhetta was not as calm about the situation.

"I know who's fault this is," his stepmother said in a low, menacing voice. "Give that thing to me! Give it to me right now!"

The blond boy did as he was told. Rhetta flipped through the pages and sighed. "Well, I know where you got this from. Did your genius daddy give it to you or did you steal it?"

Christopher felt his ears burn at the question. There was only one answer and he dreaded having to give it.

"I ... I didn't steal it, Rhetta. I ... I just borrowed it."

The tall woman nodded. "Borrowed it. I see. You borrowed it. So if I called your daddy right now, he'd say, oh, sure, I loaned pornography to my son. He's doing research on naked women, so I wanted to help him out. I do that all the time."

A sharp pain suddenly cramped Christopher's abdomen. He felt sick.

"No ... n-no, ma'am. Not exactly."

Rhetta nodded. "So you stole it."

The tearful child shook his head, then nodded. "I guess so."

"That's what I thought."

She sat down on the couch, pressed her knees together and motioned for the terrified boy to come close.

"Stand up here," she ordered. "Come on, you know the drill. Drop'em. Right now, on the floor, little mister! Pants and panties. Shoes and socks while you're at it! Stop stalling, I don't have all day!"

"I'm ... I'm getting a spanking? B-b-but why?" Christopher's voice broke into a sob, embarrassing him even more.

"You stole pornography from your father. You brought that horrible stuff into my friend's house. And then you showed it to her poor little nephew, which I find despicable." She suddenly smiled. "Oh, and of course you decided to lie about it all. Stealing, perversion and lying. Well, little man, you tell me, why shouldn't I spank you?"

The tearful boy crossed his arms over his chest and pleaded in a squeaky, desperate voice, "Please, Rhetta, not in front of them ... please?"

"You heard me, little mister! I want to see those clothes on the floor right now!"

"But, Rhettaaaaaaaaa ...!" the little boy bawled.

Aunt Mabel put her hand on her friend's arm. "Rhetta, dear, there's a better way to handle this ...."

Rhetta sighed. "Don't lecture me about parenting, Mabel. You don't have to live with this little brat. Christopher Conway, I thought I told you to strip! Do it now!"

The crying child tried one more time to make his point. "Please, Rhetta. Not in front of other people ... please don't!"

A sharp rap on the top of his head with the rolled up magazine warned him not to hesitate.

"Every second you delay is another smack on your butt, little mister! You better hurry because they're building up!"

By this time Christopher's eyes were blinded with burning, salty tears, otherwise he would have looked over to see if his friend was watching him. It took him a couple of minutes to get everything off. When he was done he was standing in the middle of his aunt's living room wearing nothing more than his army t-shirt. His discarded clothing was in a pile on the floor. He glanced over to see Aunt Mabel smiling at him.

"Don't look at me, pretty boy," the smiling woman said. "You got yourself in this mess. Besides, you said I was fat. That's the wrong thing to say about a grown woman."

Christopher felt so ashamed. Besides showing off his bare butt and his private parts to his stepmother's friend and her nephew, he was sniveling like a baby. He hadn't cried in a long time. Well, not since the last time he got a spanking from his stepmother. He tried to think of himself as bigger than that.

Why did Dad have to marry this woman? the half-naked boy thought sadly.

Rhetta snapped him back to reality. "Come on, we don't have all day, dirty boy."

Christopher reluctantly approached his stepmother. He knew exactly what to do. Taking a deep breath, he bent over her lap. His t-shirt road up his belly, leaving his bare skin to rub painfully against her rough denim jeans. Head down, his eyes blinded by his tears and disheveled blond locks, he braced himself for the inevitable.

"You certainly know how to begin a weekend," the fuming woman said as she smacked his chubby bottom with the palm of her hand.

"OWWW!!! Rhetta ... nooooooooo ....!!!!"

"Don't you tell me no!" his stepmother growled, her voice sarcastic and angry as she slapped his bottom again, much sharper and much harder this time. "Just for that you get twice as many smacks!"

"OWWW! I'm sorry! Please, oh please, Rhettaaaaa ... I'm sorry!"

Christopher glanced at his friend. Charlie looked horrified, which deepened the naked boy's shame. He closed his eyes and tried to pretend he was somewhere else. But it didn't do much good.


"Oooooooow! No, please! It hurts! It hurts!"

The spanking was fast and furious, about two dozen whacks in all. It wasn't the worst he'd ever had. It wasn't the easiest, either. Thank goodness she didn't have her hairbrush. His bottom was sore for days after his last encounter with that evil thing.

What made this spanking so terrible was that it happened in front of other people. He'd come to accept being punished by his stepmother in the privacy of his father's home, not that he liked it, of course. But at least his shame - and pain! - were hidden from the eyes of others. But to be rendered nearly naked in front of two strangers, to be scolded and forced to stand in full view of their prying eyes, that was a nightmare come to life. And then to be bent over like a little kid and have his bottom beaten so hard that he cried ... well, there was nothing in the world that would be so humiliating.


"I'm sorry, please, stop!" he screamed at the most painful point of his spanking. "It hurts! It hurts! It hurts! It hurts!"

"It's supposed to hurt, you little crybaby!" his stepmother hissed. "If it didn't hurt I wouldn't be doing it."

The crying boy squeezed his legs together as tight as he could in a vain attempt to lessen the pain. "I'm sorry, I'msorryI'msorryI'msorry!"

This is the worst day of my life, Christopher thought when the spanking finally came to an end.

"I really am sorry, Rhetta," he repeated. His voice was chocked and wavering. "I didn't mean to do anything wrong. I'll be good, I promise!"

"Oh, sure. I've heard that one before."

His stepmother pushed him off her lap, her huge breasts straining against her tight top with every breath. His bottom burning, Christopher stood obediently, his hands covering his naked privates. A sharp look from his stepmother and he pulled his hands away, putting them at his sides and leaving his boyish parts on display to anyone who bothered looking.

"What have I said about touching yourself there! Really, do you have no shame, child? You better watch yourself. It's a long time until Sunday. I have plenty more spankings where that came from!"

"Yes, Rhetta," ten year old Christopher Conway sobbed.

He glanced again at his friend, Charlie. The freckle-faced boy was clearly horrified by what he'd seen and could hardly look up. Christopher felt disgraced.

He'll never want to play with me now, the tearful child mourned.

A bare-bottomed Christopher was then sent to stand in the corner of the room and think about his crime. It was such a childish punishment. He'd been through it before, spending untold hours in his birthday suit staring at the floral wallpaper of his stepmother's living room and sometimes her bedroom. And on special occasions her kitchen. Never in his own room, though. Rhetta always made sure to put him in some place that was foreign and uncomfortable for him.

Christopher hated standing around with no pants or underwear on, especially in front of strangers. It made him feel so weak, so helpless. This was apparently something his stepmother understood quite well. More than once he'd endured this humiliation while his stepmother was entertaining her next door neighbor. Knowing that a strange woman was looking at his bare bottom and could even see his "peter," that was almost as bad as getting another spanking.


* * *

While Christopher stood facing the wall in nothing more than his t-shirt, he waited impatiently for Charlie to get his spanking. But that never came. Instead, here's what happened:

"Honestly, Rhetta," Aunt Mabel sang in a girlish voice, "I don't know why you get all worked up like that. There's no need to get angry. Why don't you do like I do and use a little honey instead of so much vinegar?"

Christopher thought that was a strange thing to say. He expected Rhetta to say something sarcastic in return, but instead he heard, "Pleeeeheheheheeeease, Auntie! No, please don't tickle meeeeeeeheheheheheheheeeeee!"

What the heck? Was that ... Charlie?

Christopher recognized his new friend's voice, but he didn't dare turn around and look. Rhetta had often spanked him for not keeping his nose in the corner and he had no desire to go through THAT again.

"I see you're still the tickle monster," he heard his stepmother say. "Aren't you a little old for that?"

"Are you calling me old?" Auntie Mabel replied. "First your pretty little boy calls me fat, then you call me old? You better watch yourself, woman. You might be next!"

"FAT chance," Rhetta shot back.

Christopher was shocked to hear his stepmother actually giggle. This was a side he'd rarely heard.

Mabel giggled, too, which Christopher thought was odd.

"That's it," she said in a mock serious voice. "You just wait, after the boys are in bed you'll get yours." She laughed again. "But first, I got to take care of my little honey bunny."

"No, Auntie, don't ... please, don't tickle meeeeehehehehehe!" Charlie squealed. "No ... no, no, no ... nonononononononononono!!!"

Christopher couldn't stand it. He had to look, if only to take a little peek. He ventured a glance over his shoulder. Charlie was in his aunt's lap, his t-shirt up under his arms and his legs locked between her thick thighs. Aunt Mabel was running her fingers up and down the giggling boy's naked belly and sides as though she was playing a guitar.

Isn't she going to spank him, he thought to himself. What the heck?

"No, nonononohohohohohoho! No! Pleeeeeehehehehease, stop it! Auntie Mabel, stop it! Please! No more! No! No more!"

"Personally, I don't like hearing little boys cry," the plump woman said brightly. "Isn't that right, Charlie-warlie? Auntie likes to hear little boys laugh! Tell her all about it, honey bunny! Coochie-coochie- coo! Coochie-coochie- coo!"

"I give up!" cried the laughing boy. "I'm so sorry, I'm sorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorry!"

Christopher couldn't believe his ears. After all he'd been through, after getting his butt beat, Charlie was just going to be tickled? That wasn't fair. Not in the least!

Christopher stared at the wall as he listened to the giggling and laughter going on behind him. Tears welled up in his eyes.

It's not fair, he thought angrily. It's just not fair!

"Pretty Charlie's not going to look at any more dirty magazines, is he? Is he? Hmm? Hmmm? Charlie respects his auntie to know better than to look at any ugly old magazines? Right? Hmm? Hmmmmmm?"

"I won't, I won'tIwon'tIwon'tIwon't! Oh, gosh, Auntieeeee, I promise I woooohohohohohohon't!"

"That's right, you better not do that again. My pretty little Charlie-warlie is too youngie-woungie to be looking at ladies with no clothes on. Charlie-warlie better watch out or he might be the one who ends up nakie-wakie!"

"No, No! Pleeeehehease, stop it! I won't do it again! I promise, I won't! I won't! I won't!"

"That's what you said last time?" Aunt Mabel's girlish voice tittered. "You made Auntie a promise and then you broke it. Remember what happened? Hmm? Hmmmm?"

"I remember! I remember!" squealed the giggling boy. "I'll be good! I promise, it won't ... SNORT!!!! It won't ... he-he-he ... hahahahahahappen again! I promise!!!!!" For several more minutes the squealing and giggling continued. Charlie laughed and giggled and tee-heed and tittered and squealed and hollered incessantly for the longest time. Christopher sighed. Wasn't there any end to that awful happy noise?

"What about it, Charlie-warlie? You like looking at the naked ladies, wouldn't you like to be nakie-wakie, too? Do you want to be nakie-wakie? Hmm? Hmmmmm? Coochie-coochie-coo!"

"No! No! No! No! Auntie! Nononononohahahahahaha! Auntie, please, no nakie! NO NO NAKIEEEEEE!!! AND NO TICKLE!!! NOHOHOHOHOHOHOOOOOOOO!!!!"

After a few more minutes it occurred to Christopher that Charlie might not be having fun after all. He perked up his ears and listened as the hapless boy tried to speak between giggles. He took another glance and saw the panicked look in his friend's face. Christopher noted with some satisfaction that his khaki pants were on the verge of coming off. All the squirming and wrestling had pulled them down far enough to see his crack.

At least I won't be the only one with a bare butt, he thought as he returned his gaze at the wall.

"Pretty little boys who look at naked woman end up naked themselves. Is that what you want, honey bunny? Does my pretty little Charlie-warlie want to be nakie-wakie like those pretty women? Hmm? Hmmmmm?"

"No, Auntie Mabel! I promise! No naked ... and no more tickles .... Aaaaaaagh!" A new wave of tickles ensued and Charlie yelled for relief. "Please ... Auntie ... don't ... stop! Please don't! Stop!"

"Please don't stop?" Aunt Mabel asked. "Is my little tickle princess asking for more tickles? Auntie knows just what you like! Coochie-coo! Coochie-coo! I think you want to be nakie-wakie like your pretty Chrissy-wissy!"

"NO!!! NO NAKIE!!!" the desperate boy screamed. He took a deep breath and tried to talk. "Please, Auntie! No more! No tickle! Gotta ... pee! Bathroom ... please, Auntie ... bath ... room ... gotta ... go ... peeheheheheheheeeee!!!"

"Aw, is my pretty little Charlie-warlie going to pee his pretty panties? What's the matter, is Auntie's pretty tickle princess going to wet himself again like a pwetty wittle baby? Is that what my pwetty wittle Charlie-warlie is gonna doooooo? Is the wittle tickle pwincess gonna pee his pwetty wittle panties?"

Christopher didn't know which was worse, the corny way the fat woman was talking or the screaming squeals of his helpless friend. The half-naked boy tugged anxiously at his t-shirt. He wanted to put his fingers in his ears, but he was afraid he'd be punished.

"Isn't that cute! Auntie's wittle tickle pwincess is gonna pee his pwetty panties! Ain't that a shame! Coochie-coochie-coo!!! Coochie-coochie-COOOOOOOOO!!!"

"Aunteeeeeeeeheheheheheheheheheeeeeee!!!!! NONONONONONO!!! NO!!! NO!!! Oh gosh! Oh gosh! Oh gosh! NOOOOOOOOOO!!!"

"Come on, wittle baby. Pee your wittle panties for your mean old Auntie Mable! You know you're going to do it. Come on, honey bunny. Pee for Auntie Mable. Coochie-coochie-coo!!! Coochie-coochie-COOOOOOOOO!!!"

The squealing suddenly stopped, as did the sounds of squirming and wrestling. Christopher felt as though something bad had happened. Or was about to happen. Then he heard it. The sound of shame and of despair.

"Auntie ... eeeeeeew!" Charlie's voice sobbed. An instant of silence, then, "I'm sorreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

Rhetta spoke for the first time in several minutes. "Uh-oh, looks like somebody lost control of themselves!"

"Pwetty wittle Cha-wee pee-peed his pwetty wittle panties," Aunt Mable said with a little girl's voice and a high-pitched giggle. "Cha-wee isn't his auntie's tickle pwincess. He's his auntie's silly wittle sissy babeeeeee!!!"

Christopher couldn't help but look. Sure enough, his new best friend was standing before the two women with a dark wet stain on the front of his pants. His shirt was still tucked up under his arms and the waistband of his khakis was down enough to expose most of his butt. Charlie looked up just long enough to realize he was being watched. The red-faced boy quickly pulled his pants high up around his waist and then hid his face in his aunt's breasts.

"I'm sorry, Auntie Mable!" he sobbed shamelessly. "I'm so sorreeeeeeeee ...."

"That's all right, Charlie-warlie," the fat woman cooed. "You know Auntie loves her pretty little sissy princess, even when he pees his pretty little panties."

Holy cow! he thought, stunned by what he saw. Charlie's aunt tickled him so hard, he peed his pants!


The half-naked boy replayed the event in his mind in an attempt to understand what he just saw. He shivered as something occurred to him.

I think ... I think she did that on purpose! Holy crap!

There was some feminine whispering, which made Christopher nervous. He hesitated to look over his shoulder for fear of aggravating his stepmother. He did happen to hear Charlie's voice, who was still crying.

"Auntie loves her pretty tickle princess, doesn't she? Hmm? Hmmmmm?"

"Yes, Auntieeeee ...," the distress child whimpered. "I'm so sorreeeeeee ...."

Christopher ventured another glance over his shoulder. Rhetta was looking right at him.

"And what are you looking at, little man? Didn't I tell you to stand facing the corner? Do you want another whipping?"

The blond boy shook his head. "No, ma'am."

He was about to turn around and put his nose in the corner when Aunt Mabel caught his eye. The plump woman gave him a wink. He watched with fear and curiosity as she then whispered in his stepmother's ear. Rhetta shrugged, then nodded. His heart fluttered with dread. Now both women smiled at him.

"I think pretty Chrissy is just a little sad because he's missing out on the fun," Charlie's aunt suggested. "Isn't that right, pretty boy? It's just not fair, is it, you getting a spanking and my little Charlie just getting tickled?"

The bottomless boy shrugged, then nodded. "I ... I guess so."

"Aw, what's the matter, Chrissy?" Rhetta said, her voice sweetly mocking. "You look so sad. Are you not having a good time? Do you need a little cheering up? Hmm? Hmmmm? If you do I know just the person to help."

Christopher watched helplessly as his stepmother held out her hand. As in a trance, the blond child walked over and allowed her to slide her arm around his naked waist. He felt so self-conscious with no pants on, but he had no choice in the matter.

Aunt Mabel pushed Charlie away and ordered him to stand by. "Move aside, Charlie-warlie. I'm going to have a little talk with your pretty boyfriend here. You don't mind, do you, honey bunny?"

The dark-headed boy shook his head. He was too tired and miserable in his wetness to argue.

Christopher felt his stepmother's hand push against his back. The next thing he knew he was in Aunt Mabel's arms, his face buried once again in between her huge soft breasts. He breathed in her perfume and enjoyed a moment of peaceful bliss.

Then it began.

"Poor little Chrissy-wissy, such a pwetty-wetty wittle boy. Don't cwy, Chrissy-wissy. Let Auntie make it all better."

"Oh, good grief," Rhetta said, rolling her eyes. "I can't believe you're talking to him like that."

Mabel put her mouth to Christopher's ear. Her breath was warm and moist. The confused child felt a shiver of pleasure sweep through his body.

"Don't you pay any attention to that mean old woman," she cooed. "She doesn't understand you like I do."

Pulling the half naked boy against her ample body, the plump woman kissed Christopher all over his face, leaving wet lip prints on his forehead and eyes and his cheeks and lips. It would have been pleasant if he'd some pants to cover his shame. And if her hands weren't all over him.

"Such a pretty little boy," Auntie Mabel said in her sing-song way. She ran her fingers up and down his bare back and sighed. "Your skin is so soft, I just can't help wanting to touch it!"

"Please, don't do that," Christopher tried to brush away an errant hand that caressed his bare belly while another touched his naked bottom.

"Oh, my goodness. Is Chrissy-wissy tick-wish, too?" She traced a line down his belly until it came to his navel. "Isn't that interesting. I just love tickling ticklish little boys."

"Auntie ... I mean, Aunt Mabel, stop it, please?" the flustered boy fussed. "I don't like being tickled."

Rhetta chuckled. "You shouldn't have said that."

Mabel stuck her tongue out at her friend and smiled.

"My, oh my, and such a pretty naked little boy, too," the plump woman cooed. "Let's see just how pretty you are without that ugly old army shirt."

Christopher panicked as his last precious bit of clothing was swiftly pulled up and over his head. His fear was so great it drained any strength or resistance he might have had. He watched helplessly as his stepmother took the shirt from her friend, folded it neatly and put it on the pile of clothes on the floor.

"Nooooo ...." he whined as the buxom Auntie Mabel pulled him onto her plump lap.

"I can't remember the last time I tickled a naked boy," the fat woman said in a little girl voice. She paused dramatically and winked at Christopher's stepmother. "Oh, wait! I remember ... it was RIGHT NOW!!!!"

Christopher's captor suddenly dug her fingers into his bare knees and in between his thighs, triggering a squeal of delightful terror. The poor boy was so startled by his own voice he embarrassed himself.

"Wait! Wait! I'm not ready," Christopher yelled as he put his hands down over his privates. Taking a deep breath, he felt a sense of doom overtake him. "Wait, no, just a minute. Just a minute ... just a minute ...."

But there was no waiting. Aunt Mabel smothered the naked child's face and neck with kisses and assaulted his tender skin with all of her guile as well as her fingertips. Christopher was overwhelmed by the wave of indescribable sensations that took hold of him. The assault was fast and furious, all along his thighs, up his belly and under his bare bottom.

"Coochie-coochie-coo! Coochie-coochie-coo!" the fat woman sang. "I think Auntie found herself another tickle princess!"

"No, not yet!" he squealed. "I'm not readyyyyyy! Nononononono! Waaaaaaaaaaaait! Hehehehehehe! Pleeeeeeease waaaaaaaaait! Noooohohohohoho!"

"Coochie-coochie-coo! Coochie-coochie-coo! Pretty Chrissy-wissy is Auntie's new tickle princess! Coochie-coochie-coo! Coochie-coochie-coo!"

Like most boys his age Christopher had been tickled before, but nothing like this! Aunt Mabel was obviously a virtuoso of the art. She played the youngster like a piano, working his ribs and under his arms and his chin with ease. Disarmed by this first assault of tickling, he lost any advantage, leaving his abdomen as well as - gasp! - his penis and balls exposed. Nimble fingers tickled everything in sight, even finding their way in between his legs, pinching and poking his privates without restraint. Her technique was so skilled, she could time his laughter with his breathing, enriching or depriving his oxygen supply at will.

"Hehehehehe!" Christopher snorted, then tried to catch his breath. "Rhetta, make her stop it! Pleeeeeheheheheeeeease! Make her stop!"

"Hey, you got yourself in this mess, you deal with it," the raven-haired beauty replied.

"Please, Rhettaaaaaahahahahahahahahahaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

Christopher thought he was going to die, he was laughing so hard. He giggled and chattered and laughed so much, he almost forgot to breath. From his nipples to his belly to his privates to his knees, everything was a target of opportunity. He wriggled and he wrestled and he clenched his legs together, but his captor was as strong as she was cunning. He squealed and screamed with involuntary pleasure so loud even poor Charlie had to hold his ears.

"Aaaaaaaghhhhhh ... Help! Help meeeeeeehehehehehehe!!! Oh, gosh ... nooooooo!"

"I think pretty Chrissy-wissy is really getting into this," Aunt Mabel said brightly. "Really, Rhetta, you should give this a try. It's more fun than it looks."

The raven-haired woman nodded. "You've certainly got his attention, that's for sure."

The plump tickler smiled. "Of course. Plus, I think it would do the both of you a lot of good. Little boys like being tickled by their pretty aunties and mommies. Isn't that right, Chrissy-wissy? Hmmm? You'd love being tickled by your pretty mommy. Don't you want to be her pretty tickle princess? Hmm? Isn't that right? Hmmmm?"

"Yessssss!" screamed the naked child. "Yessssssssssssss!!!"

"Then say it," Mabel cooed. "Say you want to be her tickle princess. Say it. Say it!"

Christopher didn't want to say that. Of course he didn't. Later he would think about that moment and how it was his downfall. Being tortured was bad enough. Being naked while being tortured was just horrible. But being forced to say things that made him sound like he enjoyed all that stuff, well, that was the worst! The absolute worst!

The problem, as you might imagine, was that none of those thoughts could get by the cloud of hysteria and panic that seized the ten year old boy's naked body at that moment. The incessant assault of endless tickles and pokes and pinches and kisses was overwhelming. It was enough to make him do just about anything to get relief.

"Come on, Chrissy-wissy," encouraged his cheerful tormentor. "Say, I want to be my mommy's tickle princess! Say it! Say it!"

"I'll be her tickle princess! I'll be her tickle princess!" the youngster quickly yelled. "I'll be her tickle princess!"

"That's not what I asked, Chrissy-wissy. You have to say you want to be your mommy's tickle princess. Come on, Chrissy-wissy. Say it. Say you want to be her tickle princess."

"I want to be her tickle princess! I want to be her tickle princess!"

Mabel winked at an amazed Rhetta. "You want to be your mommy's tickle princess. Your mommy. Come one, pretty boy, you can say that, can't you? Your mommy's tickle princess."

Years later Christopher Conway would look back on that moment with rueful reluctance. He would always remember this incident as the first tug on the unraveling thread of his complete and total submission to his hated stepmother.

"I want to be my mommy's tickle princess!" the squirming child screamed. He was fighting for his breath between the endless waves of kisses, pinches and tickles. "I promise ... I want to ... be ... my mommy's ... tickle ... princess! Want ... to be ... her tickle princess!!!!"


The torture suddenly stopped. For an instant Christopher thought his humiliation was over. As he laid in the fat woman's arms he reveled in the bliss of not being tickled. His whole body was alive and trembling and exhausted from the ordeal. Now if only he could get some clothes on ....

But the worst was yet to come. Christopher's stepmother soon warmed to her friend's invitation to join in the fun. Rhetta slid next to Aunt Mabel and for a horrifying moment Christopher thought he was going to be passed over to his hated rival for further humiliation.

No, no, no! No more, he thought in a momentary panic. I don't want Rhetta tickling me like this! Please, no! I don't want her making me laugh! She's always so mean to me! I don't want her kissing on me and tickling me! Not her! Not after she's spanked me all those times and hurt my feelings! Not her! Not her!!!

For a second or two Christopher thought he was going to be given to his stepmother to hold, but instead the youngster suddenly found himself being gently dropped on the floor and flipped upside down. To his horror his feet were seized and his legs were separated, leaving his bare bottom and privates on display for everyone to see! He looked up to see his aunt with his right foot in her grip and his stepmother with the left.

"What ... what are ... you going to do to me?" the panicked child asked breathlessly.

"What do you think we're going to do to you?" Rhetta raised that eyebrow again. "Better yet, what do you want us to do?"

Christopher tried to catch his breath. "Um, let me go?"

"I don't think so, my pretty little tickle princess. We're just getting started!" Aunt Mabel said with a playful laugh. She looked at her friend and giggled a little girl giggled. "Come one, Rhetta, let's make a wish!"

Christopher was mortified as the two women spread his naked legs wide apart. He couldn't believe he was in this situation and there was nothing he could do to get out of it. As humiliating as it was to stand in the corner with no pants, this was a million times worse!

"Wow, cute little bottom!" Aunt Mabel cooed. "And look at that little wiener! Have you ever seen anything so adorable? I can't wait to tickle that!"

"Come on, less talk, more tickling," snapped Rhetta. "You said this is better than spanking. Show me your best stuff."

"Oh, I'll show you my best stuff after while," her smiling friend replied with a wink. "But first let's take care of your pretty little blond-haired cutie."

"No, no!!!" the frightened boy yelled. It all started with a light stroke along the sole of one foot. A little nervous giggling was followed by similar tickling on his other foot. "Hahahah, heheheeee. No! Not my feet! I hate that! Please, Rhetta ... Auntie Mabel ... NOT MY FEET!!!"

What followed was the most intense, most stressful thing that ever happened to Christopher in his entire life. He broke out into a cold sweat as mischievous fingernails attacked his feet with a vengeance, sending a ticklish shockwave that caused his naked body to shudder all over. Louder, more concerned giggling was followed by a series of horrible, unrelenting and punishing tickles on poor Christopher's feet, the likes of which he could barely comprehend. The cruel, sharp fingernails caressed and poked and searched the tender skin until they found the exact spots that caused the ten year old would-be soldier to melt into hysterics.

"Noooooooooo, hehehehehe, gaaaaaaaaahahahahahaha!!!!! Rhettaaaahahahaha! Auntieeeehehehe! Please, don't .. stop!! Rhettaaaaaaahahahahaha! Please, Rhetta! Oh, please! Stop it!! Pleeeeeeeheheheheeeease!"

Aunt Mabel paused long enough to be heard. "See, isn't this a lot more fun than getting all mad and beating on the poor boy's bottom? And see how much fun he's having? Everybody loves a happy child."

"Nooohohohoho!" cried the hysterical Christopher. "Please, Auntie Mabel ... Rhetta ... no more tickle! No tickle! No more, please ...."

"Maybe." Rhetta shrugged. She renewed her grip on her stepson's ankle and traced the tips of his toes with a crimson nail. The sensation caused the trembling boy to squirm and squeal in desperation. "I'm still waiting to be convinced."

"Well, let's see what we can do," Mabel said. "Let me show you how to find the really sensitive spot on the sole of his foot."

Christopher felt relief as the tickling suddenly stopped. He thought for a moment it was all over. He was sorely disappointed as a single fingernail traced a line along the soft insole of his foot, triggering a spurt of involuntary laughter. The same thing happened to his other foot and soon he was hyperventilating and squealing for mercy all at the same time.

"Rhettaaaaaaaahahahahahaha!!!!" hollered the helpless upside down boy. "No, no more! No more! No more! Nomorenomorenomorenomorenomore!!!!"

"See? There it is. Now, let's go for it and see how much your pretty little tickle princess can handle."


What followed was the most intense sensation of pleasure and agony that ten year old Christopher Conway could imagine. He'd always been ticklish on his feet, so much that he didn't even like to think about it. He could barely stand to wash them himself, they were so sensitive. And now they were in the hands of his wicked stepmother and her mischievous girlfriend. And there he was, his head on the floor looking up as they poked and caressed and pried and had their evil way with him.

"Nononononononononononono!!!!" he screamed. "Can't stand! Cantstanditcantstandit!"

"See how easy this is?" Mabel said to her long-time friend. The two women kept up their tickle torture without missing a beat as she spoke. "Isn't this more fun than all that screaming and spanking and getting angry stuff you did before?"

A grinning Rhetta shrugged. "Well, it isn't not fun, I have to say. But I still think nothing beats a good old fashioned paddling on the bare butt. Plus, you're not going to get me to say any of that baby talk foolishness. No way in hell."

The plump woman stuck out her tongue and laughed. "I'll make a believer of you yet. But let's take care of your pretty little tickle princess first, all right? Hmm? Hmmmm?"

Rhetta shook her head. "You're awful," she said as she focused her attention on the squirming boy in her grip.

Christopher was in a terrible panic. The assault was relentless and long, going on for several minutes. More than once he thought he would pass out. But all of a sudden an unexpected sensation complicated matters. He had to go to the bathroom! It came upon him abruptly and without warning. He had to go pee, right now, and he had to poop, too. If the tickling didn't stop soon they'd all be sorry.

I can't believe this is happening, the laughing boy though desperately. This can't be happening! Not to meeeeeeeheheheheheeeee!

"Rhetta, Auntie Mabel ...," Christopher gasped. "Please ... stop .... Gotta pee! Now, I gotta go pee! Pleeeeeheheheheheeeease, no more! Let me go to the bathroom right now!!!!!!"

For an instant there was hope. The tickling eased up, just a bit. There was some whispering, then some giggling.

"Oh, I can't believe it. Do we have another widdle boy who can't hold his water? Is the widdle baby gonna pee?"

Christopher took in a deep breath and nodded. "Please, Aunt Mabel ... Rhetta ... I really have to go!"

The naked boy jerked as his foot sensed another tickle, right up the most sensitive part of his skin.

"I think the pwetty widdle tickle pwincess is trying to get out of his tickles," sang the cheerful Mabel. "I think our widdle nakey wakey sissy Chwissy is twying to pway a twick on us mean old wadies!"

As she spoke the gleeful woman ran her fingers up and down a horrified Christopher's foot. He screamed and fought to free himself as his stepmother joined in.

"Please, no! Aunt Mabel, Rhetta, I really need to go pee! Please, let me up before I ... I ... I make a mess!"

"You better not pee on my good floor, princess!" warned Aunt Mabel. "Auntie will put wittle sissy Chwissy-wissy in a diaper-wiper if he can't control himself!"

Rhetta reinforced her friend's message by reaching down and slapping her stepson's naked butt. "Seriously, if you pee, Christopher, I'll make sure you can't sit down for the rest of the weekend!"

"I can't ... c-c-c-can't ... can't help it," squealed the helpless child. "I gotta go poop, too! Please ... let meeeeeehehehehe ... gooooohohohohoooo!!!"

Christopher couldn't believe this was happening to him! Instead of letting up, the intensity of the tickling actually increased. It was as though his tormentors wanted him to pee, as if they wanted him to humiliate himself. Wasn't being half-naked and getting tickled enough? Why in the world would they want him to pee himself? What in the world were they thinking?

"I gotta go! I gotta go! I gotta go!" he chanted over and over again. "Please, Rhetta! Aunt Mabel! Stop iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit!!!!!!!!"

Well, it happened. It was inevitable. The tickling continued, on and on and on and the poor boy laughed and giggled and spasmed until he couldn't take any more. He tried, oh, how he tried, but it was all in vain. It finally got to the point where he just couldn't help himself. In between the guffaws and giggles and snorts, his mind convinced itself that the only way to put a stop to any of this was to give in. The harder he tried not to pee, the worse the tickling got. He was exhausted, he was dazed and he was without hope.

And so he finally gave up and lost control.

It wasn't a pretty scene. At least he didn't poop. Not yet. Yes, he did get some urine on the floor, being bottomless and all, but it could have a lot worse. In his desperation to preserve what little dignity he had left, the giggling, laughing boy grabbed his t-shirt from the pile on the floor and pressed it over his privates. He caught most of it before any irreparable damage was caused. He also managed to reach over where his discarded jeans lay and grab them as well. Clutching his clothes to his naked crotch, he felt the shameful, unforgettable sensation of urine flowing from his penis. And in front of other people, no less!

Christopher laid catching his breath for a full half minute before he realized the tickling had stopped.

"Get up off the floor, please," his stepmother ordered. "Don't just lay there in your own pee! Honestly, Christopher, are you trying to ruin our weekend?"

Christopher slowly rolled over, got to his knees and stood up. He was a mess. His favorite t-shirt was soaked and he could feel the warm urine on his feet. His good jeans were wet, too, and he could smell urine on his hands. He was never so ashamed in his entire life.

"Awww, pretty little Chrissy-wissy peed himself." Aunt Mable said with an evil laugh. "I didn't think Chrissy-wissy was such a sissy. What do you think of your little sissy boyfriend, Charlie-warlie? Do you think he'll look good in a diaper, too?"

Still in a daze, Christopher turned toward his new friend. Charlie wouldn't even look him in the eye.

Not surprisingly, Rhetta was, well, pissed that her stepson had made such a mess.

"Get your shirt and wipe that pee up off the floor immediately. Hurry, before it dries! We'll put everything in the wash, but first you have to get the floor clean. Do it! NOW!!!"

The blond boy reluctantly got down on his hands and knees and looked at the damage. It really wasn't that much - just a little bit, that's all - but the fact that he'd laid in it was enough to make him feel ill. He put his army t-shirt on the puddle and began wiping. He didn't dare look up. Tears of shame burned his eyes as he realized how pitiful he probably appeared to everyone else in the room.

"Here, give me the shirt and use these to finish up," Aunt Mabel ordered. "I swear, between the two of you I'm wondering if I really do need to break out the diapers so you don't pee all over my house!"

In exchange for his ruined clothes the disgraced child was given a handful of tissues and a box of disinfectant wipes. He felt awful as he worked. He took his time as he had no desire to face his tormentors again any time soon. The sense of vulnerability he felt being naked was second only to the disgust of having to clean up his own pee.

"Mabel and I are taking your clothes to the laundry room," Rhetta snapped. "You better be done when I get back. And it better be clean!"

Christopher watched helplessly as his stepmother and Aunt Mabel disappeared from the room, taking his clothes with them. He blinked as he realized that Charlie was naked, too.

"What happened to your clothes?" he asked his friend.

The dark-headed boy shrugged. "I wet my pants, too, remember? Auntie made me take off everything while you were cleaning up. I guess we'll have to stay like this until they come back."

Christopher was as embarrassed to see the other boy as he was to be seen. Not knowing what else to do, he just knelt there holding his hands over his privates. He watched with curious amazement as Charlie picked up a disinfectant wipe, knelt down alongside him and began scrubbing the floor.

Oh, well, the blond boy thought. I guess this is okay.

He shook his head and got back to work.

It didn't take long for the two boys to clean up the floor. Charlie went and got the mop and proceeded to use it on the floor as if he'd done that a thousand times. By this time Christopher was really curious.

"You really know how to use that thing. Has this happened to you before?" he asked.

The freckle-faced boy frowned. "I don't want to talk about it."

Once they were done the two boys just stood in the middle of the room and waited. Christopher felt extremely self-conscious about being naked in front of his new friend and judging from Charlie's awkward glances he was not alone. The two friends stood around so long they thought the women have forgotten them. Christopher got so bored and tired, he plopped down on the sofa.

"You better get back up," Charlie said, looking warily at the door. "You haven't had a bath yet and Auntie doesn't like it when you sit naked on her couch before taking a bath."

Christopher stared at his friend.

"Does ... does this kind of thing happen often?" he asked as he stood back up. "I mean, does your aunt tickle you a lot?"

Charlie nodded. "Every time I come to visit. It's really not so bad ... most of the time. It can be kinda fun. Unless I do something wrong or something she doesn't like. My mom used to spank me, but Auntie Mabel says tickling is better."

"Um, do you ... do you always end up naked?"

The freckle-faced boy shrugged. "Sometimes," he whispered.

Christopher frowned. "I hated it. I hated getting tickled and I hate being naked. I'd rather get a whipping than go through this again."

"I tried to tell you that," said the freckle-faced boy.

"Well, this is the worst thing that's ever happened to me," fumed Christopher. "I hate this, I hate your aunt and I hate my stepmother!"

Charlie nodded, then shook his head. "It can get worse. Trust me."

The blond boy looked at the naked boy in front of him, then down at his own body. Where his penis was uncovered and had a pink mushroom tip, his friend's had an odd hood-like thing covering it.

What the heck is that thing? he thought with amazement.

"Stop looking at my thing!" Charlie fussed, covering his penis with his hand.

Christopher suddenly realized he was staring. Looking away, he wrinkled his nose and tried not to think of such things.

"You said it can get worse. Worse that this?"

Charlie sighed. "Well, kinda. If it does, the best thing you can do is just do as they say. I don't know about your mom, but ...."

"She's not my mom!" the fairer skinned child fussed. "She's my stepmother!"

"Okay, your stepmom. Anyway, I don't know about her, but sometimes Auntie likes to have too much fun and ...."

"Too much fun? She's crazy! She's worse than my stepmother!"

Charlie nodded. "Yeah, well, if you just do as she says, it won't seem so bad."

Christopher frowned. He wanted to argue with his friend, but the look in his face told him it would be in vain.

The two boys just stood in silence, each caught up in his own misery.

* * *

After what seemed like hours the two sisters appeared, each with a drink and a cigarette in their hands.

"Well, lookie here!" Aunt Mabel announced. "Have you ever seen such a cute pair of little boys in your entire life?"

Rhetta grinned. "I can't say I have. Hello, pee-pee boy. Do you have to go to the bathroom again?"

Christopher frowned and shook his head. He fought the urge to cry.

"No, ma'am," he replied softly.

"Can we get dressed now?" Charlie asked. "It's cold and we don't have any clothes on."

"Mmmm, I don't think so. Not yet," said Aunt Mabel. "It's not that cold. You both need a bath something awful, though. Besides, we kind of like looking at you little cuties in your birthday suits. They're both very pretty, don't you think, Rhetta?"

Christopher's stepmother took a drag from her cigarette and nodded. "They're a couple of regular tickle princesses."

"You don't have to stare at us like that," Christopher complained. "We're naked! It's not nice looking at us naked!"

"I wouldn't complain if I were you, pee-pee boy," quipped Rhetta. "Besides, if you're going to look at naked women in some dirty magazine, then why shouldn't we be able to look at you naked?"

The two boys looked at each other. Apparently this was their punishment for looking at the girly magazine. Or at least part of it.

"Do you still have to poop?" Auntie Mabel asked Christopher at one point.

The blond-haired boy frowned, then nodded. His eyes dropped in shame as he noticed his stepmother grinning at him.

"Fine. You can go to the bathroom in a minute. You can wait 'til we finish our cigarettes can't you?"

Christopher nodded again. And again he saw his stepmother smiling at him.

The two women sat and chatted for a while, leaving Christopher and Charlie both to stand there in their bare skin. The two boys felt ridiculous, trapped with nothing to wear in front of the two grown women.

Christopher couldn't stand it. "Please, Rhetta, can't I go get some clothes on? Pleeeeeeeeeeease?"

"Christopher Conway, I do not want to hear another word! You're perfectly fine the way you are. If you're unhappy maybe you need another butt warming."

"Or maybe another visit from the tickle monster," sang an enthusiastic Mabel.

"I'm fine," the blond-haired youngster quickly replied. "Never mind! I'm good! I'm good!"

* * *

After finishing their cigarettes the women decided it was time for the boys to take their bath. Christopher and Charlie were forced to walk ahead of the women, just like a pair of toddlers. Once they arrived at the bathroom Christopher was horrified to find out that the two were going to take their bath together.

"I ... we ... we can't take a bath at the same time! Not in the same tub! Boys our age don't do that!"

He looked at Charlie. The dark-haired boy was quiet, almost accepting of their fate.

"Say something," Christopher insisted. "Tell them we can't do this!"

The other boy shrugged. "It won't be so bad," he said with a shy voice.

Christopher rolled his eyes. "They can't make us do this!!!"

"Oh, don't be silly. Of course we can make you do it," Aunt Mabel sang brightly. "We're the adults, remember? We can make you do anything we want. I don't know why you're so upset. It'll be great! It'll take half the time and use half the water. But most important, it'll be twice the fun! Just wait and see."

Christopher watched as the tub was filled with hot water and plenty of bubbles. Charlie got in, stepping gingerly into the sudsy water.

"It's pretty hot," he said, wincing enough to cause Christopher worry.

"That's good," replied Rhetta. "It'll help get rid of the stink."

Christopher was next. He was about to approach the tub when Rhetta suddenly stopped him.

"Why don't you go sit on the pot first," she ordered. "You have to go poop, remember?"

The ten year old boy blinked. He looked up at his stepmother and then at his new aunt. Mabel studied him carefully. He glanced over at the toilet, then at his new friend, who was watching him as well.

"Um, no ... I'm okay now," he whispered.

"Nonsense!" Auntie Mabel insisted. She pushed him toward the toilet. "You already peed on my floor. I'm not having your poop in my tub."

Christopher felt his stomach drop. "But ... I can't ... here?" he stammered. "In front of everybody?"

"I can't think of a better place, honey bunny," Aunt Mabel cooed. "This is a bathroom, after all."

Christopher felt ill. He had never pooped in front of anybody else before. They weren't serious, where they? He looked at his stepmother, knowing full well she was not sympathetic at all.

"Does as she says," Rhetta ordered, lighting up another cigarette and taking a puff. "Unless you want another whippin'."

Knees weak and his heart racing, the naked boy stepped close to the dreaded porcelain bowl, turned around and sat.

Pooping in front of so many people was one of the hardest things he ever had to do. With three sets of eyes on him, he found it difficult to relax his body enough so that what came natural, well, came natural.

"I don't know if I can," he whispered innocently.

"I can give you a little help if you like," Aunt Mabel said in her sing-song way.

The pretty plump woman opened a cabinet and pulled out a large rubber bag with a white hose attached. A wide-eyed Christopher watched as she uncoiled the hose and waved a long black rubber nozzle in his face. It was so close he could smell the aroma of soap and petroleum jelly.

"A little warm soapy water in your bottom and you'll be pooping in no time. Plus, you'll feel like a million dollars. Isn't that right, Charlie-warlie?"

The boy in the tub nodded his head - just barely - before looking away.

Aunt Mabel giggled. "Charlie knows all about my little friend here, don't you, honey bunny?"

Christopher didn't know what to think at first. Slowly, however, an image formed in the wary youngster's mind and his eyes almost popped out of his head as he suddenly realized what the smiling woman was saying. He struggled to swallow as he concentrated on making his body function as quickly as possible.

"I think I can go by myself," he said hoarsely.

"I think you've inspired him," Rhetta said with a chuckle. "You might be on to something with that thing."

It didn't take long for Christopher to finish. The process was as awkward as it was humiliating, from the actual act of pooping to wiping his bottom, all in front of the three spectators. After flushing the toilet he minced bashfully over to the tub and started to get into it.

"Here, bend over and let me check you," insisted Auntie Mabel.

The stunned boy froze. He looked at his stepmother who in turn just shrugged.

"I'd do as I was told if I were you," Rhetta said, amused.

Christopher's face was already red from the strain and shame of having to evacuate his bowels before an audience. Now he just felt plain awful as he bent over and let this strange woman examine his bottom. He felt his stomach drop as she spread his cheeks, exposing his butthole to the entire world to see.

"Good job. Not bad, considering the company you keep." Auntie Mabel gave him a playful smack on his bare cheek. "You could teach Charlie here a thing or two about personal hygiene."

Dazed by the events of the past few minutes, Christopher Conway stepped into the bathtub, his entire body tingling with anxiety and stress. His friend was right, the water was too hot. But even worse was the fact that he was so close to another naked boy. At ten years of age the two boys crowded the tub and each other. Christopher cringed as his bare feet and legs brushed against those of his friend. He almost jumped out of the water when Charlie's foot inadvertently poked him in the balls.

"Hey, watch it!" he complained, clenching his thighs tightly together. "That hurt!"

"Sorry," whispered the contrite Charlie.

As awkward as that was, Christopher was relieved that he could get his privates out of the public eye. He wasn't used to walking around the house naked and being under the cover of soap suds was a great relief. Even if he had to share the tub with another boy.

"Now, isn't that the sweetest thing you've ever seen?" teased Aunt Mabel. She took a handful of suds and placed it on top of her nephew's head. "There, see! Aren't bubble baths fun? I don't think I've ever seen a cuter pair of pretty little boys!"

"Oh, they are pretty cute, all right," said Rhetta. "They look like a couple of little babies if you ask me."

Charlie made a face. "We're not babies! We're ... we're ...." He looked at Christopher for help.

"You're not babies, huh?" Rhetta snorted. "You both peed yourselves and you're not babies? I don't think so!"

"That wasn't our fault," Christopher fussed. "You made us do that!"

"Do you want another whippin'?" Rhetta snapped back. She smiled as her stepson quickly shook his head no. "Then you need to keep your mouth shut. Understand?"

Christopher bowed his head. "Yes, Rhetta."

"Okay then," Mabel said cheerfully. She reached into the tub and scooped up another handful of suds, this time putting it atop Christopher's blond head. "Now you're twins!"

"That's not funny," the embarrassed boy said with a pout.

"It is to us! Anyway, we'll be back to check on you guys in a little while. Don't you two little cuties do anything naughty while you're in that tub naked together!"

The sound of feminine laughter could be heard for several minutes afterward.

"What did she mean by that?" Christopher said, wiping the silly pile of suds off his head. "Your aunt is weird."

"No weirder than your stepmother," Charlie replied.

The two friends squirmed and wriggled around in the tub, trying to get comfortable without getting too close to one another. At first they tried pulling their legs up and curling into protective little balls, but that didn't last. With all the bath oil and soap suds in the water, the porcelain tub was as slick as it was small. The harder the two friends tried not to touch each other the tireder they got. It didn't take long for them to finally give up. They finally worked out their positions face-to-face with each boy's feet straddling the other's body. Christopher's legs were splayed over Charlie's who in turn slid his legs under Christopher's.

"I guess that's better," Charlie said quietly. "You okay this way?"

Christopher Conway nodded. He felt his face burning anxiously. The sensation of the other boy's slippery skin rubbing against his own was alarming. Adding to that was the problem that their bodies were way too close, especially facing each other. The blond boy could smell the aroma of bubble gum on his friend's breath. As awkward as that made him feel there wasn't much he could do about the situation except worry.

I'll scream if his peter touches mine, the nervous child thought fearfully. Ugh!

The two boys didn't talk much during the hour they were left alone. They did fuss a little about how mean their guardians were and how awful they were being treated.

"This is stupid!" Christopher fumed. "We shouldn't be in the tub together like this!"

Charlie nodded. "I know. I don't like it either!"

The blond-headed boy frowned. "So, does this kind of stuff happen to you a lot? What's up with all that 'tickle princess' stuff? You're a boy. She can't talk to you like that!"

"Shut up," his freckle-faced friend snapped. "I don't want to talk about it.

Christopher shrugged. "Well, what about all that stuff about you playing with Barbies? Does she make you do sissy stuff like that, too?"

"I don't want to talk about that, either."

The curious boy blinked. He had one more question. He figured he knew the answer, but he had to ask it anyway.

"And what about that weird rubber bag and that nozzle thing? Does she use that thing on you? What does she do with it? Does she stick it up your bottom?"

"I said I don't want to talk about it! Leave me alone!"

Christopher studied his friend. "Well, I'd never let her do that to me," he said defiantly.

Charlie looked up and bitterly shook his head. "Oh, yes you would. You don't know what you're talking about. Auntie Mabel can make you do anything. You'll see."

* * *

The soap suds were nearly gone when the two friends heard footsteps coming down the hallway. The women entered the bathroom whispering and giggling like a pair of teenagers. Christopher's heart dropped when he was Rhetta holding his father's girly magazine. Aunt Mabel was peeking over her shoulder at the pictures and shaking her head and laughing. They looked right at the two hapless boys.

"My, oh, my, look at our pretty little tickle princesses," Aunt Mabel sang. "You look so pitiful. Let's freshen up your bath with some more bubbles!"

The plump woman grinned brightly as she dumped some bath oil in the tub and turned on the spigot. Christopher squealed as the hot water hit his back and he practically jumped into his friend's arms to keep from getting scalded.

"Look, Rhetta, aren't they just adorable cuddling up in their girly-girl bubble bath? Have you ever seen anything so sweet?"

Christopher looked at his stepmother. A smiling Rhetta raised an eyebrow and nodded. He felt ill as he realized he was belly to belly with his hapless friend.

"Ewww, yuck!" he muttered as he tried to push away. But he couldn't do so until Mabel turned off the hot water. Meanwhile the two boys were left in an awkward position for way too long a time.

Christopher's stepmother laughed. "Well, they do look a lot better than they did a little while ago. They're a lot quieter and a lot better behaved. Not to mention they smell better. I think we're on to something, don't you, Mabel dear?"

"Oh, I most certainly do!" Aunt Mabel said with a wicked grin. "Rhetta, darling, show us all the picture you found in that dirty magazine. I want to know what our little tickle princesses think of it."

Christopher's stepmother flipped through the pages and turned the magazine around for the boys to see. The blond boy blushed. It was one of his favorite pictures. His most favorite, actually. It showed two beautiful women in a bubble bath together. The women were naked, of course, and kissing open mouthed, sitting practically in each other's lap as they made out with each other. The ten year old's face burned bright red and he felt funny between his legs.

"Oh, my precious little stepson likes that one," Rhetta said with sinister tone to her voice. "I can tell by the way he's squirming around. Stand up for a moment, Christopher. Come on, don't be shy."

Christopher blinked. "Huh?"

Rhetta smiled. "I asked you to stand up. Come on, it will take just a second."

The blushing child did as he was told. He saw his stepmother and aunt studying him carefully. It wasn't until he noticed Charlie staring down between his legs that he realized what everyone was looking at.

He had an erection.

"Oh, gosh!" the embarrassed boy exclaimed, dropping beneath the safety of the bath bubbles.

"What about you, my precious little Charlie-warlie?" Aunt Mabel asked. "Let's see if you share your pretty friend's opinion of the lovely ladies."

Charlie looked over at Christopher, his eyes red and watering. Sure enough, when he stood up his penis was standing up as well. He looked as miserable as Christopher felt.

"Well, that answers that question," said Aunt Mabel. "You can sit down, honey. We don't want that little thing getting cold."

The two women whispered between themselves, leaving Charlie and Christopher to look at each other with dread. Something was going on and neither boy thought it was good.

Rhetta flashed the magazine at them again, holding it close enough for them to see the pictures up with no question.

"Do you two little boys think these women are enjoying what they're doing? Do you think they're having fun? Come on, speak up! Don't take all day."

She turned the pages as she spoke. A series of photos showed the same two women in various stages of kissing and hugging, all naked, of course. Some were in the tub, others were on a luxurious bed with silk sheets and candles all around. Christopher tried not to squirm as he took in what would be his last viewing of those fateful pictures.

"I asked you a question!" the dark-haired woman repeated. "Do you think they're having fun?"

The boys looked at each other again. Charlie's face was frozen with a panicked smile. Christopher was trying not to cry. He knew whatever answer he gave was going to be wrong.

"Well," he started. "They kinda look like they like each other."

Rhetta nodded. "Do you really, now? And why do you say that?"

Christopher felt so foolish. He cleared his throat and croaked, "Because they're kissing each other?"

His stepmother nodded. "I see. Yes, they are kissing each other. And some women do that. Some do it because they like each other, some do it because they love each other ...."

"And some do it because it's fun," Aunt Mabel said, an odd smirk on her face.

Rhetta stuck her tongue out at her friend. "True. But that's not what I'm getting at. There's something else to be considered. Let's look at this from a woman's point of view. Let's say there's a young woman who needs money. She's pretty and wants to be a model. Or maybe she's going to school and has bills to pay. Anyway, one day somebody tells her they'll pay her to pose for some photos. She gets all excited and thinks, wow, this is great. Then she finds out that she has to do it with no clothes on."

Christopher nodded. From his stepmother's tone of voice he could tell this wasn't going to be good.

"Not only that, she then discovers that not only does she have to be naked in the pictures, but she has kiss another woman. A naked woman." The raven-haired beauty glared at her stepson. "So, tell, me, little man ... do you think a woman like that would enjoy being naked in front of a camera? And a bunch of leering men? Naked and kissing another naked woman? Do you really think she would enjoy that?"

The blond boy shrugged. He didn't know what to say.

"Now, think about this very carefully. Why do you think they would get naked and do that in front of a bunch of men with cameras? Hmm? Hmmmm?"

Neither boy had an answer. And even if they did, they didn't dare say anything. As young as they were, they recognized a losing situation when they saw it.

"Do you think you two would do that?" Rhetta asked. "Do you?"

The tall woman took a drag from her cigarette. "Come on, somebody say something before I have to drag it out of you."

Christopher swallowed. "Do ... d-d-do what?"

The raven-haired beauty smiled. "Pose in front of the camera naked and kiss each other. You little boys like looking at that picture, don't you? Don't you?"

Both boys were on the verge of crying. Not knowing what else to do, they both shook and nodded their collective heads.

"And you thought they were having fun, didn't you? You said so just a moment ago, so don't lie."

Christopher looked over at Charlie. In unison the two boys nodded and whispered, "Yes, ma'am."

"Well, that's just fine." Rhetta smiled. "Hey, I have a great idea. How about you two pretty ones have some fun, too? Maybe you two could pose for a picture like that for us girls to look at. Don't you think that would be fun?"

By this time Christopher was about to break. He knew something bad was going to happen, but he didn't expect this.

No, no, no! Not this! he pleaded silently.

"I, um ... Iiiiiiiiiiiii ...." he was so upset he couldn't come up with the words.

"I don't think it would be fun," Charlie whispered instead. "I think it would be awful."

Rhetta nodded. "And what about you, pee-pee boy? Don't you think posing naked for a picture and kissing your little boyfriend would be fun? You thought it was fun for these two poor victimized women."

Christopher nodded, then quickly shook his head. "I ... I-I-I'd hate ... hate it," he said hoarsely.

His stepmother nodded. She then turned to Mabel, who looked as though she was about to burst out laughing.

"Well, if we catch you boys looking at any more pictures like this, that's what we're going to make you do. If we ever see you with another magazine like this, I don't care if it's more of your daddy's pornography or at the grocery store with one of those stupid sports magazines with those air-headed girls in bikinis! If I ever see you looking at anything like this again, I will personally get out my camera and we'll hold a special photo shoot, just for the two of you! You'll get to find out what it's like to sit naked in front of a camera, posing like a couple of idiots and kissing on each other for a couple of hours while we take your pictures. Does that sound like fun to either one of you?"

"No, ma'am," Christopher said, his face all screwed up and wet with tears. "I'm sorry, Rhetta! I won't do it again! I promise!"

"Me, neither!" Charlie cried. "I'll never look at another dirty magazine for the rest of my life! I promise!"

"If only I could believe you," Aunt Mabel said with a sigh. "Stand up again. I want to show you something. Come on, do it now!"

The two boys obeyed. They looked as silly as they felt, their young bodies wet and covered in suds, each with his tiny erection sticking straight out.

Aunt Mabel took the magazine from her friend and tapped them each on the tip of their penis with it.

"That's what these kind of dirty books are for!" she fussed. "They're designed to make little boys' wee-wees to stand up and mess up their little minds. And that's why they're bad. And that's why I don't want them in my house! Do you understand me?"

In unison the two friends nodded their heads.

Rhetta stepped forward. "Remember, if we catch either one of you - I don't care if you're together or if you're a hundred miles apart - if we see either of you looking at another dirty magazine, then we just might have to set you up for your own photo session. So unless you want to pose naked and kiss and hug on each other in front of a camera like those two women, you just keep it up! We can make that happen. Do you understand me?"

The two boys both sobbed, "Yes, ma'am."

Christopher then made the mistake of looking at his stepmother. At first he thought she was furious with him. He tried looking away, but her eyes were locked in on him, trapping him like a frightened rabbit under the spell of a vile serpent. The shamed boy wanted to run away and hide, he knew that was not an option.

Reacting out of despair, Christopher Conway felt his eyes well up with tears again. He was on the verge of crying when he noticed something odd. His stepmother's anger seemed to soften a bit, her expression taking on instead a look of amusement. A quick glance down toward his nakedness and then back again only added to his self-awareness. He felt more exposed in that moment than he'd ever felt before. Something told him that as bad as he'd thought he'd had it - from the impromptu whipping to the shameful lecture and embarrassment of sharing a bath with another boy - something told him that things could be a lot worse.

It's gonna be a long weekend, he thought silently. What else is she going to do with me?

I'd rather just get a spanking!

The End