Naked Jensens 4: The Fight Fiasco (FFFM/bbbg, F/bb, nc, otk,
aud, hum, erec)

copyright 1999 by Nialos Leaning, all rights reserved.
Permission for noncommercial free (no charge) electronic
distribution and personal use reproduction of this story is
hereby granted.  All such distribution, re-posting and
reproduction must be without alteration of this story in any
way, must include this entire copyright notice, and must in
their entireties retain the following statements:

"The following story is intended for ADULTS ONLY.  This
story depicts several spankings of preteens, three boys and
a girl, at their Catholic parochial school, by several nuns
and a lay teacher, in front of others.  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 Fight Fiasco
by Nialos Leaning


"Be good at school," mom said, giving my bare behind a hard
smack as I went out the front door, followed by my giggling
nine-year-old sister, Becky.  

"I will," I promised as I started my twenty-second straight
day as a Naked Jensen.  Even though I wasn't a Jensen, I was
a Miller.  Billy Miller, age eleven-and-a-half, to be
precise.  My friend Tommy, seven months older than me, was
the Jensen.  But he wouldn't be naked today, only me.  And
probably some of our schoolmates.

I was wearing the "Naked Jensen" uniform that our school and
parents had agreed upon, a short bright red shirt, footwear,
and absolutely nothing else.

* * *

Let me explain about "Naked Jensen," before it all gets too
confusing.  Tommy's parents use only one punishment for him
and his sisters, spankings.  Afterwards, the spanked kid has
to stay naked for a long time.  And, no hiding in his or her
room either. They have to be in plain sight of any company,
play with any friends that come over, often in the backyard. 
In our neighborhood we call that being a Naked Jensen.  Used
to be, only the Jensen kids were Naked Jensens, but not any
more.  And it was all because of him and me.  More about
that later.

* * *

Almost as soon as I started walking, I had a boner.  This
happened to Tommy and me a lot when we were Naked Jensens,
and embarrassed us both a lot.  Before long, I caught up to
Tommy, who was wearing pants for the first time in three
weeks.

"How does it feel?," I asked him.

"Kind of funny," he answered.  "I"m happy to have them back
on, though!"

"Can't wait to get mine back," I told him.  I still had
fourteen more days to go as a Naked Jensen.

Soon, we ran into several more Naked Jensens, a third grade
boy and his fifth grade sister.  Like me, they had on Naked
Jensen uniforms.  Their very red bottoms, and the tears
still coming down the boy's face, were evidence that they
had been spanked just before leaving their house.

"It's all your fault!" the girl shouted at us.

"Yeah," chimed in her brother, "you're why we go to the
Naked Jensen school!"  That's what the kids were calling St.
Teresa's these days.  In a way, they were right, it was
Tommy's and my fault.

* * *

Three Saturdays ago, while staying at Tommy's house, we two  
got into trouble and were spanked by his Mom.  Of course,
she kept us naked afterwards, even when some friends came
over.  The next day my mom made Tommy and I go to my house
naked, where we were spanked again, in the backyard, at a
neighborhood picnic.

Our sixth grade teacher, Sister Mary Regina, and our
principal, Sister Kathleen, were at the picnic. 
Unbelievably, those holy women of God agreed to let mom send
us to school the next day naked.  Which she did.  Where we
got in trouble and were spanked at assembly, in front of the
entire school.  The nuns told the school that from now on
any misbehaving kid would be spanked by them and made to be
a Naked Jensen.  Of course, all the kids blame Tommy and me
for that!

Our school spankings earned us spankings at home, one for
being spanked at school, another spanking for not telling
our parents, and a third one for lying about being spanked. 
I earned a fourth spanking for arguing with mom about the
spankings.  That's when she announced that for the first
spanking in a seven day period, I had to stay naked for one
day, for the second spanking, two more days, for the third,
three more, and so on.  In total, starting with the spanking
at the Jensen's, I would receive eight spankings in six
days, meaning I had to stay naked thirty-six days.  Tommy
earned two less spankings, and so only had to be naked for
twenty-one days.  

* * *

"I hate wearing a Naked Jensen uniform!" said the girl. 
"It's all your fault," she repeated.

"Yeah, your fault," echoed her brother.

Of course, Tommy and I are blamed for the "Naked Jensen"
uniform!
 
"Wasn't our idea, twerps," Tommy defended us.

"Still your fault," replied the girl."

"That's right, your fault," parroted her brother, and we're
not twerps!"

"Oh yes you are," Tommy and I chorused in unison.

That did it.  Quickly, the four of us were fighting.  We
must had made a sight, three Naked Jensens who weren't
Jensens and a Jensen who wasn't a Naked Jensen decking it
out right on the sidewalk.  At least I didn't have a boner
anymore, but the third grader sure did.  Of course, the two
younger, smaller kids were no match for us two bigger boys. 
I was so mad, I didn't even care that I was hitting a girl. 
My own sister, Becky, just stood there staring, making no
effort to defend the family honor.

Fortunately for the twerps, some seventh graders on the
Safety Patrol broke up the fight before anyone was really
hurt.  They marched all four of us into Sister Clarence's
room.  She was in charge of the Safety Patrol, and in charge
of punishing those that the SP rats tuned in.  Everyone in
the school, except for some reason her seventh graders, was
very scared of her.  No one even ever made fun of her having
a man's name!  Sister glared at us the whole time the Patrol
made their report.

"Tommy Jensen," she commanded him, "you have two minutes to
become a Naked Jensen.  All four of you will be spanked in
the yard at recess this morning."

We all groaned at this.  Tommy was busy changing from the
regular school uniform to his Naked Jensen uniform.  All
students had to carry their red shirts in their school
packs, just in case they were needed.

Once Tommy was again a Naked Jensen, I became even more
embarrassed about my own exposed state.  I don't care what
they say, after twenty-two days, I was still embarrassed
about being naked in front of God, the world, and my whole
school.  Maybe it would be different if everyone was naked,
but on most days no more than fifteen or twenty of us were,
sometimes less, once in a while more.  And over six hundred
attended our school. 

Partly what was making me more embarrassed was that I again
had popped a boner.  As had Tommy and the third grader.  In
front of a classroom full of seventh graders, both boys and
girls, not to mention Sister Clarence.  But what bothered me
even more was the differences in our privates.  Tommy had
some pubic hair, I had none.  His dick and balls were bigger
than mine, although not as big as the high school boys I
sometimes saw in the pool locker room.  His balls were easy
to see, mine kind of hid behind my dick.  Heck, even the
hairless third grader's balls were easier to spot, and both
they and his dick looked to be bigger than mine, but not
Tommy's.  For a big boy, I sure was a little boy where it
counted the most!

"Now get to class," Sister Clarence ordered us.  As I went
by, she gave my bare behind a hard smack.  Why was it always
my bottom getting the extra spanks?

As she always did when she had Naked Jensens in the room,
Sister Mary Regina went out of her way to call on Tommy and
me, to have us come to the front of the room, to send us on
errands.  That was one of the confusing mysteries of our
faith.  The nuns taught us that it was a sin to go about
showing off our bodies in public; but now, whenever we were
punished, they were going out of their way to make sure we
were showing ourselves off to one and all.  Apparently, when
it was for punishment, being naked wasn't a sin, just very
embarrassing for the kid.

All too soon, it was recess time, our spanking time.  Four
chairs had been placed in the middle of the playground. 
Sister Clarence, Sister Mary Regina and Sister Kathleen
stood by three of them.  Mr. Reilly, a fifth grade lay
teacher, stood by the other.

We four combatants were called to front and center.  Sister
Clarence ordered us to stand facing our assembled
classmates, hands behind our heads.

"Fighting will not be tolerated in this school," Sister
Kathleen started lecturing.  "For any reason.  Do I make
myself clear?"

"Yes, Sister," the schoolyard replied as one.

"And, that includes on the way to and from school.  Is that
clear?"

"Yes, Sister," the schoolyard again replied.

"And this," she continued, "is what happens to those who do
fight."

No sooner had she said this, then all four of us were over a
teacher's lap.  I over Sister Mary Regina, Tommy over Sister
Kathleen, the third grade boy over Sister Clarence, his
sister over Mr. Reilly, who I figured was her teacher.

Just as quickly as we were positioned, the spankings began.
Time after time, hands descended onto out bare bottoms. 
Hands that were hitting us very hard.  And that's another
mystery to me, we're not supposed to fight or hit each
other, it's a sin, but the adults are allowed to hit us as
punishment.

Before long, all four of us were crying, kicking, begging
for our torture to end.  But it had only began.  After
thirty or so hand spanks, there was a calm on our already
red, hot and sore bottoms.  But alas, only a temporary calm. 
To all our dismays, the spankings resumed, with the thick
eighteen inch classroom rulers.  Let me tell you, those
things put some serious hurting on a kid's bare bottom.  Not
to mention the fire it puts in that same bare bottom.  It
didn't take long for my behind to feel like I was sitting on
the lit burner of a stove.  I'm sure the others felt the
same.

Well before the end of Sister Mary Regina igniting my end, I
was howling and screaming something fierce.  I wouldn't be
surprised if my mom heard me all the way back at the house,
if my dad heard me at his office downtown.  The other three
Naked Jensens were being every bit as vocal as me.  We were
making a strange sort of church chorus, I'm sure all four of
us were praying to God for our torment to end.  I know I,
for one, was.

And end our torment did.  My legs were so exhausted from all
the kicking about I had done, I barely was able to hop
around.  Of course, we all knew better than to try rub our
behinds.  Behinds that were very red, very sore, very hot. 
I wouldn't had been surprised to see smoke coming from them!

"Let that be a lesson to everyone," Sister Kathleen said as
the bell rang.

Back in our classroom, sitting on those hard wood desk seats
was an agony for Tommy and me.  Neither of us could stop
squirming around, despite Sister's commands to sit still. 
Every time she ordered us to stop moving about, the class
would giggle.  Fortunately for us, or unfortunately,
depending on how you looked at it, Sister continued to
frequently call on us, bring us to the front of the room,
and to send us on errands.

Shortly after lunch, we were in for another surprise.

"Tommy Jensen, Billy Miller, come up here now," commanded
our teacher.

"Yes, Sister," we both replied, as we immediately complied.

"You two have brought disgrace upon this class," she told us
and our fellow students.  "I will not have that.  So,
anytime any of you are spanked at this school for something
you did outside of this room, you'll also receive a spanking
from me."

With that, she pulled her chair out in front of her desk.

"Please, Sister, no," I begged, "my bottom is still sore
from this morning."

"Well, it's about to be sorer," she said, quickly grabbing
me for positioning over her lap.  Her hand promptly
commenced reigniting the fire and pain in my behind.  Like
that morning, thirty hard stingers.  Unlike that morning, I
was howling and screaming well before she delivered her
final hand spank.  I didn't know how I would be able to
endure the ruler, which Sister rapidly took to my bottom.  

That piece of wood was completely unbearable on my bare
behind.  Almost from the first stroke, she had me screeching
something terrible, making incoherent sounds of distess
sufficient to wake the dead.  All to no avail, no zombies,
or anyone else, came to my rescue.  When she was done, my
bottom was too painful to even think about touching.  Like
that morning, I had no energy to dance around on my suddenly
very rubbery legs.  I sank to the floor.

"Get up, hands behind your head," Sister ordered.

Slowly, painfully, I managed to do as she wanted.

"Thomas," your turn, she told Tommy.   Who received the same
treatment as I had just been given.  Thirty hand spanks
followed by thirty ruler spanks.  He reacted much as I had,
several of the kids in the room were holding hands to ears
to block out the piercing ear splitting racket he was
making.  When his ordeal was over, I was amazed at just how
dark red his bottom was.  Tommy, and some classmates, later
told me mine had been just as crimson.

"Sister," a girl in the fourth row raised her hand.

"Yes, Stephanie?"

"Do you think they liked their spankings?," she asked,
giggling as she pointed at our dicks.  Which were hard,
again.

"I don't think so," replied Sister Mary Regina, holy woman
of God, with a smile on her face.  "I don't think they
really want their penises to be pointing up in front of all
us, do you boys?"

"No, Sister," we mumbled an embarrassed response, our faces
an instant red.

"Well," asked another girl, "isn't being that way where all
can see a sin?"

"They'll have to confess to Father Kelly and let him
decide," answered our teacher.  Our faces went even redder. 
I can see it now, my confessing to Father Kelly that in
front of the whole class I was naked and had a boner.  All
because of his nuns.  I hope Sister isn't holding her breath
for me to make that confession.  Because I won't.  It's
probably another mystery of the faith, anyway.  Another
what's not okay is okay when it's punishment for a kid.  I
wonder if God knows just how crazy a religion he has here?

The rest of the day proved to be even more difficult for us
to stay still at our desks.  Adding to our discomfort,
Sister had stopped calling on us and sending us on missions,
as she called them.  We had to keep our extremely sore bare
bottoms on those hard seats the entire afternoon.

I couldn't wait to go home.  I also dreaded going home.  A
spanking at school meant, of course, a spanking at home.  As
soon as I was in the door, I told mom all about my day.  I
didn't want to take any chances on earning extra for not
telling her.

"Let's see," said mom, "two spankings at school, so that's
two here at home."

"But, mom," I began to argue, "they were for the same
thing!"

"And one more for arguing with me about it," she added.

That was three, and she wasn't finished yet.

"One more for fighting," mom continued, "which you know we
don't allow."

"But, mom," I again stupidly started to argue, "I was
spanked for that at school."

"And another one for arguing," she pronounced.

Now I was up to five, and yet mom continued.

"Plus one for hitting a girl, which is absolutely against
the rules."

"But, mom," I foolishly pleaded my case, "that was part of
the fighting for which I was already spanked."

"And another one for arguing," mom finally completed my
sentencing. "That's seven spankings, one each night right
before supper, starting today.

"Please mom," I once more ventured without thinking, "my
bottom's already too sore,  can't we wait till tomorrow?"

"No we can't, and you just earned an eighth one for still
arguing with me." was her reply.

I was devastated.

"With the two you had at school, that makes ten in eight
days.  Go ahead, add up your new Naked Jensen days."

I did so, in my head.  "Fifty-five," I told mom.

"Well, if you really want," she said.  "It's actually fifty-
two."

I was good at arithmetic, and didn't think I had made a
mistake.  "Ill take the fifty-two, " I said, "but I'm sure I
added up right."  Ten plus nine plus eight and so on down to
plus one still equaled  fifty-five when I redid the numbers. 
        
"You did, and you didn't," mom explained.  "Remember, its
based on the number of spankings in a seven day period. 
Your last spanking will be on day eight, so the three from
today don't count for that one, only the seven from tomorrow
on."

"Oh," I said, feeling silly at almost subjecting myself to
extra days.  Fifty-two would be bad enough, added to the
fourteen I still had to go from my previous punishments.  At
the rapid pace that I was earning Naked Jensen days, I could
outgrow all my pants before I had a chance to again put any
of them on.  But, than again, at my rate of piling up NJ
days, mom probably wouldn't have a need to buy any
replacements, either!

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.