Naked Jensens 3: The Taunt Tantrum (FF/bb, FM/b, nc, otk, aud, hum, erec) copyright 1998 by Nialos Leaning, all rights reserved. Permission for noncommercial electronic distribution and personal use reproduction of this story is hereby granted. All such distribution, re-posting and reproduction must be without alteration of this story in any way, must include this entire copyright notice, and must retain in their entireties the following statements: "The following story is intended for ADULTS ONLY. This story depicts two preteen boys, best friends, being spanked at their Catholic parochial school by several nuns, in front of others. It also briefly describes a spanking one of the boys receives that night from his parents. If you are not of a legal age in your locality to view such material do not read further, and do not save this story." "If you don't like stories of this nature, then do not read this story. Please do understand that some of us, including the author, enjoy such fantasy material." "This story is pure fantasy, written for the enjoyment of adults. Behavior depicted in this story may in real life be illegal or considered by society to be abusive, harmful, unacceptable or undesirable. The author neither advocates, condones or personally engages in any such behavior." "This story, as is all fiction, is fantasy and not reality. The author does recognize the difference between the two." "Compliments and constructive criticism are always welcome." ************************ Naked Jensens: The Taunt Tantrum by Nialos Leaning "Please, Mrs. Miller," begged my best friend Tommy Jensen, "can't we put our pants on?" "Please, mom," I echoed, more whine than plead. "Not another word," mom replied. "You're going to school exactly like you are now." Which was naked, except for our shoes, socks, short shirts that did nothing to hide our bare bottoms or privates, and backpacks. Naked, like we've been for the last two days, except now we had on those useless shirts. * * * On Saturday, I had been staying over at Tommy's house. While swimming, we had the bright idea of pulling down his two sisters bathing suit bottoms. I don't know why. We've both seen thirteen-year-old Lorrie and ten-year-old Annie naked before. At Tommy's house, a spanked kid was a naked kid. A naked kid for long after the spanking. A naked kid who had to play with any friends who came over. A naked kid who in nice weather was sent out to the back yard to play. In our neighborhood, this being made to stay naked after a spanking was called being a Naked Jensen. Before Saturday, the only Naked Jensens had been the Jensen kids, most often Tommy, who turned twelve last month. But on Saturday, the girls protests brought quick retribution from Mrs. Jensen. She called my mom, who quickly let me know that I, Billy Miller, a big boy of eleven-and-a-half was about to be spanked by Tommy's mom. Worse, I was to become a Naked Jensen! * * * "But, mom," I tried again, despite her previous warning. Before I could say anymore, she gave my bare behind four quick hand spanks. "Ow, that hurts!" I blurted out. "I sure hope so," responded mom. "I said not another word, and I mean it! Unless you want me to arrange another backyard party?" "No, mom, don't!" I urgently pleaded. * * * Saturday had been bad enough. After our spankings, which hurt something fierce, we'd been sent out back to play. And of course, some of our friends, and some of Tommy's sisters' friends, showed up to play with the two Naked Jensens. Even if one, me, was a Miller! Sunday, yesterday, was much more worse. Tommy was to stay over at my house that night, as the rest of his family was going out of town for a ballet recital his sisters were in. When my mom came to get us, she made us walk the block-and- a-half to our house naked. On the way, we came across our next door neighbors, the Lynchesky family and the McCoy twins, Bobby and Betty. The twins are thirteen, and with their partner, the also thirteen-year-old Sharon Lynchesky, are known to us younger kids as the Terrible Thirteen Trio. Sharon said something about our being naked that neither Tommy nor I liked. We told her off in language guaranteed to get us a penance from Father Kelly of at least a year's worth of Hail Marys and Our Fathers. Mom certainly didn't like our language. She made us apologize. Then she announced that in two hours she was having a spanking party in our backyard. A very large corner lot backyard that joined the Lynchesky's equally large backyard. Backyards that were unseparated by a fence. Making matters even more awful for us, mom said that the entire neighborhood was invited. So two hours later, for over two hours, sixty-two people, not counting me, Tommy and my family, were in the backyard. Everyone but us two Naked Jensens had a great time picnicking and watching Tommy and me running around with red bottoms. Red bottoms from the spankings we got soon after everyone arrived. Spankings that Sharon helped give us. Adding to our embarrassment, as often as not either Tommy or I, or both of us, were showing boners! Adding even more to our embarrassment was that our Principal, Sister Kathleen, and my teacher, Sister Mary Regina, were present. And that's why we're going to school today as Naked Jensens. * * * "On your way now," mom ordered, giving each of our bare rears a mighty swat. Quick as we could, to get away from her hand, we went out the front door. The two Naked Jensens were in public again, about to start their naked three block walk to school. "And," added mom as we started toward the sidewalk, "don't even think of using your backpacks or hands to cover up anything, do you hear me?" "Yes!" we both answered. "Good," she commented. "Because if I hear you did, I'll make you do what I threatened yesterday." On our naked walk to my house yesterday, mom had caught us using our hands to cover up our privates. She had said that she would make us play with ourselves all the way home if she found our hands down there again. "We won't!" we both shouted out as we reached the sidewalk, my giggling nine-year-old sister, Becky, right behind us. Sister Mary Regina was always telling us it was a big sin to play with ourselves, so yesterday we didn't believe mom would really make us do it. Today we were sure she would, and maybe the nuns, too. After all, before yesterday, who would had thought the nuns would had agreed to let us come to school naked? I still remember the conversation I overheard the two good Sisters having with mom at our "spanking party." * * * "You know," said Sister Kathleen, "many of the parents are after me to return to the discipline parochial schools were known for. After today, I'm inclined to accommodate them." "Well," said Sister Mary Regina, "when I was in grade school, the nuns certainly didn't hesitate to spank us. Of course, we did get to keep our clothes on!" "Times do change," said Sister Kathleen. "For Billy and Tommy, they have," said mom. "If it's all right with you, they'll be attending school tomorrow wearing nothing but short shirts." "Fine by me," said my Principal, it'll be a good lesson to the others of what can happen to them if they don't shape up." "I have no problem with it," said my teacher. * * * I couldn't believe it yesterday, and I still couldn't believe it. My Principal and my teacher, holy women of God, agreeing to let mom send us to school naked. Believing it or not didn't change the fact that Tommy and I were now both walking to school, naked below the waist. Our audience of one, my sister, quickly became an audience of many, growing larger and larger the closer we came to St. Teresa's. To our shame and added embarrassment, our worst fear had come true. We both had boners. While we were both embarrassed and red faced about this, I think my embarrassment was greater than Tommy's. At least he had a little pubic hair, his balls had dropped, and both those and his cock had started to grow. He clearly wasn't a "little" little boy any more. He wasn't what anyone would call a "big" big boy either, not being anywhere near the size of the high school boys I'd see at the pool locker room. Maybe a "big" little boy is the right term to use. Except, twelve-year-olds aren't little boys! Me, despite being a big boy of eleven, am definitely a "little" little boy where it counts, hairless, dick and balls not much bigger than when I was six. Anyone looking, and it seemed to me everyone was looking, could see that Tommy's hard on was longer and thicker than mine. Not to mention his easy to notice balls. Mine were still tiny enough that you had to really look to see them behind my dick. The schoolyard was absolutely terrible. Kids, nuns and lay teachers everywhere, all with eyes focused on us two Naked Jensens. Two Naked Jensens showing off boners, in front of everyone and God! "Sinner, sinner," taunted a fourth grade boy, "don't you know you're not supposed to be naked outside?" "Shut up, dickhead!" I retorted. "Oh, yeah, shit for brains," Tommy shouted at the fourth grader, loud enough for the entire yard to hear, "at least we have something down there to show off, unlike you, you pussy!" "I do so have something down there," countered the almost crying boy. "I'm not a girl!" "Prove it, than," demanded Tommy. "No way!" said the boy, "I'm not a sinner like you." "Ah," I replied, "you're just a chicken shit afraid that everyone will see that you really are a pussy." "Am not," blubbered the now crying boy. Suddenly, my bare bottom was ablaze from a stinging hand spank. As was Tommy's. Sister Mary Regina and Sister Kathleen had come up upon our not so quiet discussion with the fourth grader. It was their hands that we had felt. "That's enough out of you two Naked Jensens," barked Sister Mary Regina. "I'll deal with you two later this morning," said Sister Kathleen. Just then, the bell rang to line up to enter the building. Each class had an assigned place to line up, in twos. Sister Mary Regina made Tommy and I stand at the head of our line, our boners still on not so proud display. Usually, our class entered the building last. Today, we were first, after Sister made us parade around the schoolyard, past all the other lines. The morning crawled. Sister Mary Regina went out of her way to call on Tommy and me, we each must had stood up ten times to answer questions. Each us went to the black broad four times. We were sent on errands to other rooms, the office, even the rectory on the other side of the schoolyard, over by the church. "About time those nuns treated you kids right," commented Mrs. Mullen, the rectory housekeeper, when she found us two Naked Jensens at the door. At ten-thirty, Sister Kathleen made an announcement over the P.A. system. "Attention all teachers, at this time please bring your classes to the gym for a special assembly." Assemblies were always held in the gym, which was also our auditorium, with a stage at one end. "Tommy, Billy, stay in your seats, please," said Sister Mary Regina. "The rest of you, line up and follow Mrs. McCord's class to the gym." Soon, we were alone with our teacher. "Boys, stand up," she ordered. "Put your hands behind your heads." We did as told. "Now, just like that, we're going down to the gym." Which we did. Thank goodness our boners had gone away. When we arrived, all the other kids were seated on the floor, facing the stage. Nuns and teachers stood beside their classes. Sister Mary Regina marched us onto the stage, making us face the assembly. Sister Kathleen followed us. "Tommy Jensen, Billy Miller," lectured our Principal, "Naked Jensens or not, your behavior this morning was completely unacceptable. I will not have you using that kind of language at St. Teresa's. I will not have you being so mean to younger students, or any students, for that matter. Do you understand me?" "Yes, Sister," we both mumbled. "Good," she replied. "You're about to demonstrate what will happen to any child in this school who misbehaves so badly. They, like you, will be spanked. As a Naked Jensen, on the bare bottom." A gasp came from the assembly. "And," continued Sister Kathleen, "anyone who is spanked stays a Naked Jensen for at least the rest of the day, and certainly all the way home." Another gasp came from the assembly. "Now that I've made myself perfectly clear, it's time to get your little demonstration started," declared our Principal as she grabbed Tommy. She dragged him over to a chair and quickly had him positioned over her lap. My teacher just as quickly did the same to me. Without warning, their hands began smacking our bare behinds. Hard. Time after time. Before long, we were both crying. Our legs were kicking, we were squirming about on the nuns' lap, trying to avoid their wicked hands. Who would had thought that nuns knew how to spank so good, so hard, or that their hands would hurt us so much. I could see Tommy's bottom turning red. The way mine was feeling, I knew it was turning just as red as his. Suddenly, again without warning, the hands stopped. But not our spanking. The nuns now used rulers on our behinds. The thick fifteen inch kind that they used in the classrooms, but up to now not for torturing naked bottoms. Our naked bottoms, which continued to turn hotter and hotter, sorer and sorer. Our crying was now almost a howling, a loud non- stop wailing that I'm sure Mrs. Mullen, our pastor Father O'Malley, and Father Kelly could clearly hear all the way over at the rectory. Thank goodness the other priests were away, teaching at Cardinal Mellon High School or working at the diocesan office. Ruler spank after spank landed on our poor behinds. Before long, we were no longer merely howling, but out and out screaming. Screaming that I'm sure could be heard six blocks away at Cardinal Mellon. We were no longer kicking our legs, we were running in place, determined to reach an unreachable finish line. Hotter and hotter, sorer and sorer, redder and redder became our bottoms. I was going hoarse from all my shrieking and screeching. Finally, it ended. We were put back on our feet. Immediately we commenced entertaining the school with an energetic dance, the dance of spanked Naked Jensens. "Stop rubbing those bottoms," commanded Sister Kathleen, "it's sinful to do that!" Figures, it's a sin for us to rub our red hot bare butts, but not for the nuns' hands to spank them. It's a sin for us to be naked in public, but not when the nuns or our parents are punishing us. It's a sin for us to hurt other people, but not for the adults to hurt our behinds when they punish us. I'm going to have to ask Father Kelly just who makes up the rules for our religion, anyway? Certainly not us kids, that's for sure! Our Principal made a few announcement, must of which neither Tommy nor I heard. When she finished, we had to slowly walk around the gym, our hands again behind our heads, to give all a close up view of our red rears, and of course, our fronts. Before our forced march was over, we both had boners again. Sister Kathleen sent everyone back to their classrooms. Let me tell you, when you have a red hot sore bare bottom, it's no fun sitting on a hard wood school desk! The rest of the day, Sister Mary Regina continued with her calling on us to answer questions, having us go up to the board, and sending us on errands. I couldn't wait for the day to end. Which it finally did. On the way home, Tommy and I noticed four other naked kids, all with red bottoms. It looked like St. Teresa's Catholic School was starting to become St. Teresa's Naked Jensens School! Tommy went to his house, his family having returned from his sisters' ballet recital. I went to my house. Not long after I arrived, my mom was hanging up the phone after talking to Tommy's mom. "Young man," she asked, "why didn't you tell me you were spanked in school?" "I don't know, mom," I tried to wriggle out of my predicament, "I just forgot." "Forgot about being spanked? I don't think so." "Honest, mom," I lied, "I did." "Stop it, you're only making it worse for yourself," she said. "You're to be spanked tonight for earning a spanking in school. Every school spanking means one at home that same day." "That's not fair," I protested, "I've already been punished for what I did!" "And you'll be punished again, tonight." "No," I shouted, "you can't, my bottom still hurts from today!" "That's too bad," said mom, "you just added another spanking to the three you were already getting." "Three?" I questioned, tears already rolling down my eyes. "Yes, three," replied my angry mother, "one tonight for being spanked at school, one tomorrow for not telling me you were spanked, one on Wednesday for lying about being spanked. And now, one on Thursday for arguing with me about your spanking tonight." "Please, mom, no," I begged. I was now sobbing out loud, and my spanking was still hours away. "Sorry, that's the way it's going to be," she responded. "By the way, Tommy didn't tell his mom, and lied about it, so he has three spankings coming his way. At least he was smart enough not to argue." Somehow, the news of my best friend's fate did not make me feel any better. It only made me cry harder. "And like Tommy," continued mom, "after any spanking, you're going to stay naked for the rest of that day and at least all the next day." Which meant I was going to be a Naked Jensen all week at school. A Naked Jensen, just like I'd been since Saturday. By the time it ended, I'd would have been a Naked Jensen for seven straight days. "For your first spanking in any seven day period," she further devastated me, "you'll stay naked through the following day. For you your second, for two more days, for your third, three more days, and so on." "Mom, no," I panicked, "I'll be naked forever!" "Behave yourself," mom responded, "and it won't be that long. Besides, you'll still be wearing an uniform to school, a nice short bright red shirt to match your red bottom." "Yes mom," I meekly replied, the tears now streaming down my face, my sniffling nose running. "Let me see now," mom said, "a spanking on Saturday, two yesterday, one today with one more to come tonight, and three more after that. That's eight spankings in six days." I continued crying, even harder. "Go ahead," she said, "you add up your naked days." I did and was shocked at the answer. One plus two plus three plus four plus five plus six plus seven plus eight equals thirty- six. Thirty-six straight days of being a Naked Jensen, not seven! At the rate I was going, piling up spankings and Naked Jensen days, I could be graduating from Cardinal Mellon before my body between my waist and knees saw clothing again and my bottom stopped hurting. I cried even harder and louder. "Well," joked mom, guess I'll have less laundry to do the next five weeks." I just cried some more. * * * My spanking that night was just as bad, no, make that worse, than the one at school. To Becky's delight, both mom and dad took turns, right in the living room, in burning up my bottom with the hairbrush. Just like in school, I cried, I howled, I screamed, I kicked, I squirmed, I danced. My still sore bottom was made even more sore, more red, more hot, with a fire that had just barely died down the next morning in time for school. Once more, I was walking to school as a Naked Jensen, even if I was Miller. So were about fifteen other kids. As was Tommy, the only Naked Jensen of the bunch of us who actually was a Jensen! All the other Naked Jensens, including Tommy, both boys and girls, wore short bright red shirts identical to mine. I wondered how all the parents suddenly knew to have these for their spanked kids. And to send them to school wearing those shirts, without pants and underwear. Surely, there's no such thing as parental telepathy, is there, or a parents only secret radio station? Maybe they have a private Internet site, no kids allowed? Or perhaps they call each other up after us kids are all asleep? The whole thing is a complete mystery to me, a very big mystery. Perhaps it's another mystery of our faith, a mystery the nuns haven't explained to us yet. Just before meeting up with Tommy, I had two horrible thoughts. Yesterday, six of us came home naked. This morning, almost three times as many were going to school naked, except for our red shirts. If this kept up, soon we would have a new school uniform, the Naked Jensen! And the kids would all blame Tommy and me for turning our school into St. Teresa's Naked Jensen School! The very red end of this episode of the doings of the Naked Jensens, including a Miller, but despair not, there are many, many more episodes to relate, some time or another.