A Puericil Journey

A Puericil Journey 3

[8,244 words]

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This story is intended for adults only. It contains depictions of forced nudity, spanking, and sexual activity of preteen and young teen children for the purpose of punishment. None of the behaviors in this story should be attempted in real life, as that would be harmful and/or illegal. If you are not of legal age in your community to read or view such material, please leave now.

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A PUERICIL JOURNEY - PART THREE

Helen’s Journal

I had time for a bit of lazy day for once. I’m afraid I wasted a large chunk of it scrolling. A mixture of the sort of nonsense that catches your attention for a few seconds and some actual research into the whole Puericil thing. I mean, I’d already done plenty of research, as you know. This was more research into actual people’s lives. I thought social media, things like Facebook groups and TikTok accounts might be a good source for that. Probably not. The groups were a mixture of well intentioned advice, nonsense and intolerant rudeness, all from within the community.

Tikok was interesting but in the end I dismissed it. I watched videos from “Puericil Moms” which were fun for a while and even got me briefly fantasizing about having my own account with Owen, but I quickly changed my mind on them. Too many are exploitative and are just virtue signaling women using their kids for five minutes of fame and money. After all the fuss Owen made yesterday, I find it hard to believe that the lady who posted a photo of her 14 year old son in a diaper had his consent to do so. And if he did consent, if Puericil has made him that docile that he doesn’t care, is that proper consent, really? Still I did get a few interesting tips. And as an unexpected side effect, my algorithm is now feeding me all sorts of Puericil related stuff. Adverts for sports clubs, dance classes, swimming, even special schools in the local(ish) area are popping up on my feed, and I followed a few for future reference.

Anyway, I hope Owen had a nice time and everything went well. Mrs Coombes should be here with him soon, so I must go. In fact, she’s late! I hope everything is ok. I think I’ll pop in the car and head round there myself. It’s not far.

Owen's Journal

I just got back from my sleepover at Jamie's. What a weird experience that was! It was kind of fun, especially yesterday afternoon, but some strange things happened, and some annoying ones!

It got off to a terrible start. Mum parked a few streets away and asked Amy to walk me over. I think it was just so she didn't have to chat to Mrs Coombes. Mum is not very sociable! Amy made me hold her hand crossing the busy road near Jamie's house, and this time I did as I was told. I learned my lesson last time. Amy said I was a good boy, which made me blush, since she's younger than me and I should be looking after her. But I was really only embarrassed about what anyone who overheard would think, because I know that Amy is more mature than me. Mum tells me so all the time.

Sadly, I started playing up again as we reached Jamie's street. Amy wanted to keep hold of my hand. I think she was enjoying being seen in charge of me. I was OK with it until we got to Jamie's street and then I refused. I'm still too strong for Amy to force me. Well, maybe she could, but I could sense that she was worried about me showing her up in public and so didn't want to make a scene. We were only a few minutes from Jamie's door anyway.

When we go there, Amy knocked. Jamie's Mum answered and said hello to us.

"Owen's been naughty," Amy announced immediately, without even saying hello, which made my heart sink. She glanced at me with that smug little smirk she gets when she knows she's got me cornered. "He refused to hold my hand when I was trying to keep him safe on the way here and then ran ahead when we got here. I think he's earned a spanking, and I'd like to give it to him now, please."

Mrs Coombes blinked, then smiled warmly, like Amy had just asked permission to borrow...I don't know, whatever girls need to borrow. Hair straighteners?

"Of course, dear. Come on in, Owen." She stepped aside, gesturing towards the living room like this was the most normal thing in the world. My face burned with shame, although I still noticed that Jamie's house was way bigger and posher than mine. Then I remembered I needed to get out of being spanked.

"Amy, please..." I started, but she grabbed my wrist and tugged me inside.

Mrs Coombes closed the door behind us. "Would you like me to hold him for you, Amy?"

"No, thank you," Amy said primly, "but I do need to bare his bottom, if that's OK with you?"

"Of course! Little boys should always be spanked on their bare bottoms! Don't you agree, Owen?"

"Not really." I replied. She just laughed.

Amy, meanwhile, marched me to the couch and sat down, pulling me across her lap before I could even think of resisting. My legs kicked out instinctively as she yanked my shorts and underwear down in one sharp motion, exposing me completely. The air hit my bare skin, and I squirmed in embarrassment.

"You are getting this spanking," Amy announced, her palm already raised. "for being naughty and not listening."

The first smack cracked down before I could protest further. Heat bloomed across my right cheek, sharp enough to make me gasp. The second landed just below the first and I kicked my legs uselessly against the sofa cushions.

"Ow! Amy...ow! Stop!"

She didn't. Smack after smack fell in rhythmic succession, alternating cheeks. She is deceptively strong.

“Perhaps now that your own immature behaviour has caused you to have a smack-bottom in front of Mrs Coombes, you will finally learn to be a good boy!”

By the fifteenth or so (I had been trying to keep track so I’d know roughly how much was to come, but I lost count) I just kept telling her I was sorry in the hope she would listen and stop. But she kept going, now spanking across the middle of my butt in the same place each time.

When she finally stopped after at least another ten spanks, my bottom was on fire. Amy rubbed my back gently. "There, there, Owen. All is forgiven." Her fingers brushed my damp fringe from my forehead. "But you must be a good boy for Mrs Coombes while you are here!"

Mrs. Coombes beamed. "What a wonderfully mature young lady you are, Amy. Owen's lucky to have such a responsible sister."

Amy preened, helping me up with exaggerated care. "Bye, Owen. Be good!" She kissed my cheek and left me standing there, underpants still pooled around my ankles.

Mrs. Coombes chuckled as I scrambled to pull them up. "Jamie! Come down now, darling. Owen's here!"

Jamie emerged hesitantly from upstairs. His eyes flicked to my reddening face, then away. "Want to see my new Lego set?" he mumbled.

Mrs. Coombes nudged me forward. "Go on, boys. Have fun."

I followed him up to his room, relieved to escape female scrutiny. His room was huge compared to mine, but something about it made it look like a much younger boy's room. He had a double bed which is cool, I only have a small bed, but the frame was shaped like a car. I'm not sure what to think of it. Lame or cool? I know I should think it's lame. Jamie is 13, not 8. But racing cars are cool anyway, right? So I don't know why his bed shouldn't be? I kind of like it.

Jamie started hunting for his Lego sets, and straight away asked me about the spanking.

"I'm quite impressed that you managed to get a spanking already! What did Mummy spank you for?"

"Oh no, that wasn't your Mum. That was my sister Amy."

"Your sister spanked you? But isn't she just a little girl? It sure made a lit of noise."

"She is younger than us but she can hit hard, believe me. It is embarrassing getting spanked by my little sister, but she never does it unless I deserve it. I hate admitting it but she is more grown up than me, I think."

Jamie looked thoughtful for a moment. "Mummy says girls are more mature and smarter than boys, but l don't have a sister, so I don't have to worry about that."

"I don't know if they are smarter, Jamie. More mature, possibly. More bossy, definitely."

"Well, Mummy says girls should be in charge of boys when ladies aren't around. And she says that ladies should be in charge of men."

"Grown up men? That's a bit crazy."

"Do you think men should be in charge of women?"

"I didn't say that, Jamie, I think with adults, no one is in charge, right?"

"Maybe. That's not what Mummy says though. She was in charge of my...."

I saw Jamie start to tear up a little as he remembered his father, so I changed the subject. "Are you going to show me this Lego, or not?"

He wiped his eyes quickly and grinned, pulling out a massive bin filled with colourful bricks. "I've got the Millennium Falcon and a Star Destroyer!" He told me as he carefully brought the completed models out of his closet.

Honestly, I've never been too fussed on Lego, but Jamie's excitement was infectious. "That's pretty cool," I said, inspecting the Star Destroyer, "how long did it take to build?"

Jamie blushed. "Mummy helps me. The little pieces were too fiddly for me. But I designed this spaceship all by myself!" He held up a lopsided creation that looked like it might collapse if you breathed on it.

"Wow," I said, hoping I sounded genuine. "That's... really creative."

I don't get Jamie. He's OK to talk too sometimes, then other times it's like talking to a seven year old. I've been told that Puericil does not make you dumb, so I can only conclude that Jamie has always been dumb? I have this horrible nagging feeling that he acts like he has been somehow brainwashed though. On the other hand, I felt a little jealous seeing the joy he obviously took in what I considered to be slightly childish things. I can’t say I ever felt that way doom scrolling. Not that I am really allowed to do that now anyway!

Thankfully, Jamie got bored of showing me Lego after twenty minutes and suggested playing Hollow Knight: Silksong. Now that was more my thing. We sat shoulder-to-shoulder on his beanbag, controllers in hand, and I was finally able to relax. It felt normal, just two guys gaming. Jamie was actually really good fun and we spent the next hour laughing and trash-talking each other's skills.

Then the door creaked open. Mrs. Coombes stood there with a towel over her arm and a big smile. "Bath time, boys!" she announced cheerfully.

Jamie immediately paused the game, to my disappointment. "OK, Mummy!" he chirped.

My grip tightened on the controller. "But we're in the middle of a game right now, Mrs Coombes." I protested weakly.

Mrs. Coombes plucked the controller from my hands. "Plenty of time for games later, Owen. You're both overdue for a nice, hot bath."

Jamie was already stripping off his shirt without a second thought. I sat frozen, staring at the paused screen.

"Is Jamie going first?" I asked.

"No, no, Owen. Our bath is plenty big enough for two boys. It will save time and water for me to bathe you together."

"But, I can bathe myself Miss".

"Owen, that's a naughty fib! Don't you think your Mummy hasn't told me all about your routine at home? I needed to know to be able to look after you properly."

Between the sense of impending doom over the bath and the slight shock of being caught in a lie, I must have looked like a cornered rabbit.

"Don't worry, petal, I'm not going to punish you for the fib. I know that boys get embarrassed at getting naked in front of people they don't know, but I promise you'll soon feel as comfortable with me as you do at home with your Mummy and sister.

I found that very hard to believe but the key thing she said was no punishment, so I knew to quit while I was ahead there. Reluctantly, I followed Jamie and Mrs Coombes into the bathroom.

Jamie wasted no time stripping off the rest of his clothes and climbing into the tub, completely unabashed by my presence. I couldn’t help notice that his thing was bigger than mine, which surprised me for some reason and made the prospect of stripping off even more unwelcome. I busied myself with removing my shirt at glacial speed, then peeling off my socks one millimetre at a time. Mrs Coombes sighed loudly, leaning against the sink with her arms crossed.

"You’re not getting out of this by dragging your heels, Owen," she said finally, stepping forward. "Let me, we'll be here all day otherwise". Before I could react, she unbuttoned my shorts then yanked them down, taking my boxers with them in one swift motion.

I yelped and instinctively cupped my hands over myself. Mrs Coombes tutted, batting my hands away. "None of that," she chided. "You’re not here to play with yourself." Jamie giggled.

"I wasn’t!" My voice cracked. The injustice of the accusation almost made me forget to be embarrassed about being naked, but that only lasted a few seconds and I was soon blushing.

She ignored my protest, nudging me toward the tub. Steam rose off the water, and Jamie grinned up at me from the opposite end, completely at ease.

"This is weird," I muttered, lowering myself in stiffly. The water was almost too hot, and I felt my cheeks flush, though that was probably from embarrassment. Jamie kicked his legs lightly, sending ripples across the surface. He was sitting with his knees pulled up like a six year old, and I realised I would have to do the same if we were to both fit in.

"Relax," he said, like this was totally normal.

Mrs Coombes rolled up her sleeves and reached for the soap.

Jamie leaned back obediently as she lathered his hair with practised fingers, humming "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" softly under her breath. Bubbles slid down his temples as she worked the suds into his scalp, Jamie's own little hum joining hers in off-key harmony.

I couldn't help staring when she moved lower. Jamie just sat there, legs splayed, while she soaped his chest and belly like he was some oversized toddler.

"Your turn, Owen," Mrs Coombes announced brightly, scooping water to rinse Jamie's hair.

I tensed up as her soapy hands descended on me. But her hands were gentle and kind of nice washing my hair, but I fussed a little when she rinsed out the shampoo, since she did it too fast and water was going all over my face. She then began to wash my upper body.

"Your Mummy tells me you like History at school?" she asked casually, working downwards.

"Uh-huh," I managed, muscles tensing as her hands roamed over my chest and tummy.

"Oh, I quite like history myself," Mrs. Coombes continued, scrubbing circles over my forearm with a washcloth. "Especially the Tudor period. All that drama with Henry VIII…divorced, beheaded, died!" She chuckled as Jamie giggled, clearly entertained by the rhyme.

"Yeah," I muttered, flinching when she tilted my chin up to soap my neck. "I wouldn't have wanted to marry him. I mean, obviously I'm a boy so I wouldn't have...I mean..."

“Boys can marry other boys you know. When they are grown up, that is.”

“Yes, but that’s not what I meant!”

Mrs. Coombes chuckled. "Poor Anne Boleyn, such a clever woman, undone by men who couldn't handle her brilliance." Her fingers trailed down my spine, making me squirm. "Jamie, stand up now, darling, let's do your legs."

Jamie scrambled upright without hesitation, water cascading off his slim frame. As he stood up, I looked up and found myself looking right at his willy. He was just as hairless as me, but his willy was definitely bigger, which made me feel embarrassed and a bit annoyed. It didn’t seem fair since I was clearly more grown up than him. I looked at his Mum so that I had somewhere else to focus.

She didn't seem to have noticed, briskly washing Jamie's thighs. "Now, Owen," she continued conversationally, "do you think Elizabeth I was really the Virgin Queen? Or..." she paused to gesturing to Jamie to lift his foot and scrub between his toes, "or was she just clever enough to keep everyone guessing?"

I barely registered the question at first, too distracted by her methodical cleansing of Jamie's buttocks, even her parting his cheeks briefly and washing between them before moving to under his body between his legs. Jamie sighed contentedly, leaning against her shoulder. I finally realised what she had asked me.

"Uh, well, either the first one," I mumbled, sinking lower in the water, "or she couldn't have kids. Because in those days they didn't have...you know, to stop them making babies..."

"And what do you know about making babies, young man?" She asked, looking all stern, but then chuckling.

"Well I know if she wasn't a virgin, she could have made babies."

I was determined to show my grown up knowledge, but afraid to use words like "sex" and so on in case she got cross. To be honest, I wasn't 100% sure how it worked - reproduction I mean - having not paid attention in sex ed, but I knew all about sex. I'd seen it by accident on google.

"Perhaps you are right, Owen," she smiled, "although that sort of thing is not for boys your age to be worrying about".

I was relieved the discussion had been closed and wondered why she had brought it up if she didn’t want to talk about it. Meanwhile, he fingers danced along Jamie's inner thigh, then, encircled his willy. She washed it quite thoroughly and Jamie didn't seem too bothered.

"There we go, that's your little peenie all clean!" she chirped, giving it a final pat.

Jamie plopped back down with a splash, smirking at my horrified expression. “It’s bigger than Owens!”

“SO WHAT?!” I shouted and splashed water at him, instantly flushing red with embarrassment at my own reaction as well his barb. I couldn’t think of a better comeback. It was, after all, true.

“Jamie!” Mrs. Coombes barked, “it’s not polite to point that out!” I felt my face warm even more.

“Sorry, Mummy, I was just saying, that’s all.”

“It’s Owen you should apologize to.”

“Sorry Owen.” He mumbled, and briefly smirked at me.

Mrs Coombes had by then turned to me expectantly. "Alright, Owen, up you get. Your turn."

My stomach twisted. There was nowhere left to hide.

"Come on now," Mrs. Coombes said briskly, gripping my elbow to pull me upright. The water sloshed violently as I rose, exposing my body to the cool air. She motioned to my feet, so I grabbed her shoulders for balance and lifted my left foot for her to wash like I did at home. It was all quite similar, except that I felt far less comfortable and more embarrassed to be washed by a woman I hardly knew. Plus Jamie was watching.

"Other foot," she instructed.

She washed my legs and, inevitably my bottom. She even washed between my butt cheeks and my butt hole! Of course, Mum and Amy do this too, but usually with a wash cloth. It was really odd feeling Jamie's Mum's fingers there. Jamie giggled into his cupped hands.

Her hand moved to my front. "Now let's get this little peenie nice and clean," she cooed, encircling me with slippery fingers. Heat flooded my face again as I felt it start to stiffen in her grasp.

"Look, Mummy!" Jamie pointed. "Owen's getting a stiffy!"

Mrs. Coombes chuckled, retracting my foreskin to wash under it. "Yes, that's perfectly normal, darling. The Puericil hasn't fully stopped that yet. You remember you used to get them at bath time?" She gave the tip a final swipe that made my knees buckle. "There! All done. Two clean soldiers!"

We got out of the bath. By now I was cold and my fingers were going all crinkly like they do in the bath, so I was anxious to get into a towel. I happily walked into the large bath towel offered by Mrs Coombes.

I wasn't expecting her to dry me, but I shouldn't have been surprised really. The towel was fluffy and soft and I felt it rub against my stiff willy as she dried me. When she stopped, I sighed in relief and frustration kind of all together.

Jamie bounced on his toes, dripping on the mat as he waited his turn to be dried. "Can we have naked time now, Mummy?"

"Of course, sweetheart!" She said as she dried him vigorously. "You too, Owen. Clothes just get in the way before bedtime, don't they?"

I cupped myself, mortified. Jamie strutted past. "Don't be silly, Owen, we've just been naked in the bath. You'll get used to it, anyway" he whispered, patting my shoulder.

We headed into his bedroom. The evening light filtered through Pokemon-print curtains, casting long shadows across the carpet. Jamie flopped onto his race car bed, limbs splayed, while I hovered near the door frame.

"C'mon," Jamie said, patting the space beside him. "You'll feel weird for like five minutes, then it's just normal." His toes wiggled absentmindedly.

I shuffled forward, my arms crossed low over my stomach. Jamie got up and dragged the Lego bin between us with his foot, scattering bricks. "Help me rebuild this spaceship," he said, tossing me a crumbling wing section. I sat down, cross legged in front of him with the Lego between us. I think I mentioned already, I'm not really a fan of Lego, but it was his house and also, something to do to take me mind off being naked.

Jamie chattered about modifications like adding laser cannons or making the cockpit bigger, while I snapped bricks into place under his direction. My shoulders gradually relaxed. The weirdness began to fade until I felt almost comfortable.

Jamie suddenly stood up. "Snack time," he announced, padding toward the door.

I hesitated. "Shouldn't we...?" My hands fluttered toward the discarded clothes heap.

Jamie shook his head. "Don't be silly. There's only Mummy down stairs. She's already seen all of you. No need to dress after a bath, not at this time of year anyway. C'mon, she's got Jammie Dodgers."

I was pretty hungry and the promise of cookies outweighed dignity. I followed him down the hallway. If you have never walked about naked in someone else’s home, it’s hard to describe how weird it feels. I don’t even just mean when someone is watching. Just walking down the hall and downstairs butt naked was really strange. When we got to the kitchen door, I started to feel tiny, like a little boy waiting to be allowed in. Which I kind of was now. Mrs. Coombes glanced up from the kitchen counter and wiped her hands on a floral apron as she saw us.

"There's my boys!" She popped the biscuit tin open with a flourish. Jamie lunged for it; I hung back, shifting my weight from foot to foot.

Mrs. Coombes plucked out two Jammie Dodgers and held one toward me. "Don't be shy, petal." Jamie already had crumbs dusting his chin, grinning as he chewed.

I took it and ate it, wondering if one each was all we were getting. I didn't like to ask. I’d demolish a whole pack at home.

"Bed in ten minutes," Mrs. Coombes announced, brushing flour off her apron.

Jamie whined around a mouthful of crumbs. "Pleeease can we have a story first?"

Mrs. Coombes hesitated, then smiled. "Alright, but teeth first. And no messing about during the story."

Jamie whooped and bolted upstairs. I followed and we brushed our teeth before I helped Jamie put the Lego away. He explained that he would get a spanking if he didn't do that.

Jamie climbed onto his bed and I got my sleeping bag out. I was fiddling with the zip when his Mum came in. "Mummy reads the Gruffalo the best!" Jaimie said as she arrived.

I blinked. "That's for babies."

“Jamie enjoys it," she said mildly. "Don't you think it's unkind to mock?"

"Sorry."

Jamie kicked my thigh lightly. "S'OK. You'll like it too when you hear how she does the voices."

"Owen, why don't you sleep with Jamie tonight instead of on the floor. His bed is plenty big enough and you'll be much more comfortable."

"Oh, I think I'm fine in my sleeping bag thanks", I replied.

"Don't be a stick in the mud, Owen," said Jamie, "come up here with me!"

"I think it will be a bit awkward, if we're both naked, Jamie."

Mrs Coombes now dropped another disaster bomb on me. "Well, Owen, Jamie usually puts his pyjamas on to sleep. It is hot tonight so I don't mind if you wish to sleep naked, but you won't be fully naked because your Mummy has sent a pull up for you to wear. I understand you have little accidents sometimes?"

"Not sometimes, just once!" I replied angrily, "And I'm absolutely not wearing a pull up."

"Come on, Owen, it's not up to me, and certainly not up to you, my dear. I must do as your Mummy asks. You don't want to wet Jamie's bed, do you?"

"I won't wet the bed, and I won't wear a bloody nappy!"

"Owen Hicks! You are a guest in my house, so I don't want to smack your bottom, but believe me, I will if you give me no choice! You will do as you're told, or I'll call your Mummy to take you home and I'm sure she will be very cross if she has to come to get you!"

I didn't doubt this was true, and felt trapped and hopeless. I began to cry, turning away so that they wouldn't see.

"Wait, you actually wet the bed?" Jamie's eyes widened, his tone one of genuine astonishment. He propped himself up on one elbow, staring at me like there was something wrong with me. "Like, regularly? I thought Mummy was joking about the pull-up!"

"It was once..."

Jamie interrupted with a snort. "Yeah, right. Bet you still wet your pants too."

"James Henry Coombes!" Mrs. Coombes's voice sliced through the room. She stepped in front of the bed, hands on her hips. "We do not mock others for things they can't control. Apologize this instant."

Jamie rolled onto his back, arms flopping outward. "But all I said was Owen wears nappies," he protested, "and he does. Like a little baby." Suddenly this sickly sweet simpleton was bullying me! What a prick, and how pathetic for me to be in that situation.

"That's enough!" Mrs. Coombes's voice went dangerously quiet. She seized Jamie's wrist, hauling him upright. "You've just earned yourself a spanking, young man."

Jamie's bravado crumpled. "Mummy, no! I didn't mean…"

"It’s too late for that. Over my knee. Now." She sat on the edge of the bed, her stern expression making it clear there would be no argument. Jamie whimpered but obeyed, flopping across her lap with resignation.

She looked at me and gestured to Jamie's closet. "Owen, could you please open the bottom drawer and pass me Jamie's paddle?"

"Paddle?"

"Don't tell me you have never been paddled? Well you can't miss it, it has his name on it."

I found and passed to her, what I presumed was the paddle, though I'd never seen one before. I guess I was right, because she didn't say otherwise, but took it and started lecturing Jamie on not being mean to his friends. I must admit I was pleased at that. He's been on Puericil longer than me, but I wouldn't have teased him in the same way. I'm starting to wonder how much of a dickhead he must have been before he was on it!

By now, Jamie was already over her knees and she began paddling him.

Mrs Coombes pulled his legs up slightly and adjusted his posture so that his bottom was raised and prominent before bringing the paddle down with a sharp crack that echoed in the room. Jamie gasped and his feet kicked involuntarily as another smack landed, followed by another, and another. Each one sounded harder than the last. His bottom flushed pink almost instantly, then darkened to a deep red as the paddle made contact with the same tender spots over and over. Jamie's cries escalated from startled yelps to howls and full-blown sobs, his fingers clawing at the bed sheet, his legs flailing uselessly.

I stood frozen, my stomach twisting as I watched. The sheer force of each blow made my own skin prickle in sympathy. Tears streaked Jamie's face, his voice cracking as he begged between gasps;

"Owwww! M-Mummy, please...I'll be g-good! I p-promise! Ah-oooh!"

But Mrs Coombes didn't stop. Her expression was calm, almost detached, as if this were just another chore, like folding laundry or scrubbing dishes.

"It's OK, Mrs Coombes, I...I forgive him!" I blurted suddenly, my voice tighter than I meant it to be. "You can stop now!"

Mrs Coombes paused mid-swing, glancing at me with mild amusement. "That’s very kind of you, Owen," she said, her tone firm. "But Jamie doesn’t get to skip his punishment just because you’re kind." The paddle descended again with a thwack and Jamie howled once more.

My stomach fluttered oddly as I watched. My knob had stiffened again, for some odd reason, and was sticking right out as if trying to draw attention to how awkward and humiliated it was making me feel. I should be horrified at what I was seeing happen to Jamie, not... whatever this was. The sharp sound of wood meeting flesh made me gasp in horror and sympathy but it also made my willy throb. I was so confused by this I was almost back on the verge of tears.

Finally, after six more measured strokes, Mrs Coombes laid the paddle aside. "Now," she murmured, smoothing Jamie’s damp hair back from his forehead, "what did we learn?"

Jamie sniffled, curling into her lap. "T-to be nice," he hiccuped.

"Yes." She kissed his temple. "Especially to friends who are going through the same things as you." Her hand rubbed slow circles on his back. "You wouldn’t like it if Owen teased you, would you?" Jamie shook his head violently, nuzzling against her shoulder.

My throat tightened unexpectedly. The sight of Jamie being coddled like that, his reddened bottom still visible, his legs splayed trustingly, sent another jolt of arousal through me. I squeezed my thighs together, mortified. What was wrong with me?

Mrs Coombes glanced up and caught my expression. She looked thoughtful for a second, then shifted Jamie in her lap and patted the space beside her. "Come here, Owen."

I hesitated, but suddenly felt like I needed comfort. I shuffled forward, hyper-aware of my erection. She wrapped an arm around me, pulling me into an awkward but warm half-hug against her side. Jamie’s fingers brushed mine briefly. A gesture of truce maybe?

"You’re both good boys," Mrs Coombes murmured, rocking us slightly. "Even when you’re naughty."

Jamie sighed, going boneless against her. I kept my arms crossed over my lap, not comfortable enough with them yet to return her hug. At the same time, something made me want to curl up smaller and let her decide everything.

"Right," she said at last, giving us one final squeeze before standing. "Pyjamas for Jamie, and..." She arched a brow at me. "Shall we try that pull-up again without the fuss?"

My face burned. But Jamie didn’t smirk this time. He just looked curious. I guess I can’t blame him.

Mrs. Coombes retrieved the plastic bag Mum had packed and pulled out…not the discreet pull-up I'd expected but an actual nappy, with childish rockets printed on the front!

"Oh dear", she mused, "Mummy appears to have packed the wrong type. Not to worry, it makes no difference. Are you ready Owen?"

Of course, I was not. "I'm sorry but I'm not wearing that! She told me it would be a pull up at least!"

"Who's she, the cat's mother?"

"I mean Mummy, of course."

She looked a bit cross, and I wondered if I had gone too far, but she chose not to make a big deal of it.

"But it's only for one night, Owen, and you are among friends. No one will tease you.” I noticed her glance sternly at Jamie. “Let's just get it over with." She unfolded the horrible thing and smoothed it out on the bed. She half gestured to me to come over, but noticed a slight problem I'd almost forgotten about myself.

"I can't put your nappy on over that," she remarked, waving at my willy, which despite my distress at the nappy situation, was not only still hard, but actually pulsing in time with my heartbeat. Sometimes I wish I didn't have the thing! Only sometimes. Mostly it's pretty great having one. Anyway....she went on embarrassing me....

"Does your Mummy take care of your erections for you at bedtime?"

"What? No, gross!"

"There's nothing gross about it, young man. You won't sleep like that. I used to take care of Jamie’s problems before he stopped getting them, didn't I, Jamie?"

"Uh-huh", he nodded.

I suppose it was my turn to speak, but I just went beet red and my whole face burned up. She picked the nappy off the bed, sat back down on the edge of the bed and placed it in the middle of her lap, length ways. She grabbed my hand and gently pulled me closer, gesturing for me to sit on her lap. At first, I went to sit, sort of side saddle, but she pushed me up again and repositioned me so that I sat facing away from her, with my back against her front and my butt on the middle of the open nappy. She nudged my knees over her own, and in this position, my feet dangled slightly above the floor, my legs spread wide.

I heard the click of a lid and a squirting sound before I gasped as I felt her take my willy in her hand. I felt something cold and slick rubbed over it.

"There we go, petal," she murmured, her fingers wrapping around me with practiced ease. "Nice and slick for my good boy."

The rhythmic movement of her hand made my hips twitch forward instinctively, chasing the sensation. She chuckled and tightened her grip just enough to make me whimper.

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to block her, the room and the whole situation out of my mind. Her thumb swiped over the tip of me, spreading the wetness there, and I jerked in her grip. A high, embarrassing noise escaped my throat and I tried to fight against the sensation, to regain my composure.

"Shhh, just let Auntie take care of you," she cooed, her breath tickling my ear. "Look at you, all worked up, poor boy. Does that feel nice?"

I tried to say "You're not my Aunt!" But all I could manage was, "Uhhh…uuuuhhh...mmm!"

"Yes, that's it," she crooned. "Let it out for Auntie."

The heat in my stomach coiled tighter, my toes curling at the end of my dangling feet. Every stroke edged me closer against my will until, with a shudder I couldn't control, I arched against her, spilling over her fingers and onto my stomach. The pulses seemed to go on forever, I don't think I've ever spurted so many times, or made so much cum. It left me limp and panting against her chest.

Mrs. Coombes hummed approvingly as she reached for a wet wipe. "There we go, all empty and all clean. Clever boy!" She dabbed gently at my skin with a wet wipe. "Now, let's get you nice and snug."

Without moving me, she reached down and tugged the front of the nappy up between my legs, pressing the padding firmly against me. I lay back against her panting and recovering as she smoothed the tapes into place. Beneath all the humiliation, a drowsy contentment settled over me.

"There," she murmured, patting my padded bottom. "All tucked in."

Jamie giggled sleepily from the bed. "Told you it wouldn’t be so bad."

Mrs. Coombes lifted me effortlessly, like I weighed nothing, and deposited me beside him. The mattress dipped as she leaned over to kiss both our foreheads. "Sweet dreams, my boys."

I curled onto my side, groggily aware of Jamie's warmth against my back. The last thing I registered before sleep took me was him cuddling up to me. I'm sure you are wondering why I didn't tell him to get off, or push him away, but in all honestly I was fast asleep pretty much straight away. I do remember asking him, “…do you really never get hard ons any more?”

There was a pause and he said “Of course I do! I just keep it to myself!” He giggled and I couldn’t be bothered to respond so just closed my eyes and fell asleep in an instant.

***

The following morning I woke exactly where I'd fallen asleep, but Jamie had disappeared off to the other side of his enormous bed. It took me a while to remember where I was and get my bearings. As soon as I did, the first thing I checked was my you-know-what. I was relieved to find it dry, then came some righteous anger as I now had proof that I didn't need the damn thing in the first place. I did really need to pee though, so I started to get up.

"Where are you going?" came a voice from the other side of the bed as I sat up.

"To the bathroom."

"But I think Mummy will want to check to make sure you didn't...you know...your nappy."

"I really need to pee so I'm going to the bathroom now."

"You're wearing a nappy. Why don't you just go in that? It's what it's for."

"It is not what mine is for, one, and two, if your Mum wants to check it’s dry, why would I pee in it now, so it won't be dry when she checks it?"

Jamie just giggled in response to this, then reached over and started tickling my sides.

"Jamieeee! Stop it! Right, that's it, I'm off before I pee myself!"

I struggled free of him and rushed off. I put the (dry) nappy in a bin in the bathroom and headed back to Jamie's bedroom. Since he was in pyjamas and I was now naked, I decided to put on the Pyjama top and shorts I had brought but not worn so far.

Later, when Jamie heard his mum go downstairs, he followed her in search of breakfast, and I followed him. She did ask me what had happened to the nappy and I explained. I don't think she was happy. She said I should have come to tell her if I needed to pee, but since she never told me that last night, and since I explained I didn't want to wake her, she let it go. I told her where the nappy was. I guessed she'd want to look at it, and I was actually happy with that, since she could report back to Mum that I didn't need it.

The morning passed quickly and quietly. I was due to leave after tea. In the early afternoon, Jamie's aunt and cousins turned up. I was a bit thrown by this as I wasn't expecting it. Jamie's aunt was posh, like his mum, but seemed a bit less friendly. Like a bit stuck up. His cousins were two girls, Louisa and Ginty. Louisa is 12 and Ginty is 10. What a stupid name by the way. No offence if that is your name.

Louisa had fair hair and blue eyes and looked quite pretty. She was the same height as me even though she was slightly younger. Ginty had the same red hair as Jamie and looked like a little demon.

I felt like a spare part for a while as Jamie was forced to talk to his aunt and cousins, and I didn't know any of them. When that was finally over, Mrs Coombes suggested we kids go into the garden to play. Her garden is huge by the way. We only have a little back yard at home. Jamie's garden is so big, it has big trees at the back that are a half a football pitch away from the house and there’s even more land behind them, so you can hide down there if you want.

Anyway, the snooty aunt looked at us and said,

"Oh, really, boys, must you wear so much clothing in this heat?"

She fanned herself with a gloved hand, eyeing our clothes with an expression like we’d personally offended her sense of decorum. "Boys don't need to be modest and it's a glorious day!"

My stomach dropped. I thought she should mind her own business, but I have to admit that I wasn't brave enough to say so. Mrs. Coombes, perched on the patio chair, tilted her head in consideration.

"She’s quite right, darlings. You’ve nothing to be modest about, neither of you. Clothes off, please."

I felt quite cross at being pressured into this. Jamie shrugged and began to strip, pulling off his t-shirt first, but it was Ginty’s snort that shattered me. "God, Owen, are you actually embarrassed? you’re acting like we’ve never seen a little boy before." She rolled her eyes, kicking a pebble with her scuffed Mary Janes.

"I’m Thirteen," I hissed through clenched teeth.

Louisa sighed, twirling a lock of hair around her finger. "Does it matter? You’re on Puericil. That makes you practically a toddler again. Little boys don't need to hide themselves. Take your clothes off now."

Reluctantly, I did as I was told. By a twelve year old girl and her goblin of a sister! Finally I stood there, awkwardly, not sure what to do with my hands.

Louisa smiled at me sweetly, but her gaze lingered too long below my waist. "Good boy. That wasn't so difficult, was it? It’s not like you’ve got anything to hide."

I blushed and screwed my face up at what I took to be an insult but she just giggled. “I mean, I’ve seen it all before, silly. You boys are so transparent!”

"Come on!" Ginty yelled suddenly, sprinting across the lawn. "Tag! You're it, Jamie!"

Jamie yelped and took off after her, his bare feet slapping against the grass. Louisa grabbed my wrist and tugged me forward before I could overthink it. "Run, silly!"

And just like that, we were playing. Playing like little kids, our laughter bouncing between the trees as we darted and dodged. The sun warmed my skin, the grass tickled my toes, and for a few breathless moments, I forgot about being naked. Forgot about Puericil, forgot about everything except the game.

Louisa was surprisingly fast. She zigzagged past me, her fair hair streaming behind her, and tapped Jamie's shoulder with a triumphant "Ha!"

Ginty, meanwhile, played dirty, diving between our legs, shrieking when we got close, and refusing to accept that she’d been tagged. Jamie panted beside me, cheeks pink, his chest rising and falling rapidly. "She's cheating," he gasped, pointing at Ginty, who stuck out her tongue.

"Am not!" Ginty shot back. "You're just too slow!"

Louisa smirked, hands on her hips. "Boys are slow," she agreed, flicking her hair over one shoulder. "But Owen’s not too bad. For a boy, anyway."

I scowled, but my irritation melted when she winked at me. Something warm fluttered in my tummy.

Jamie was not so easily swayed. “We are not slow,” he insisted, “you are cheating.”

“Stop saying that or I’ll tell Auntie you were bad!”

“You little…”

I rolled my eyes, thinking that we were acting like toddlers but Louisa tackled me to the ground and started tickling me!

We played and laughed until our sides ached and our breaths came in hiccupping giggles. Jamie collapsed onto the grass first, limbs splayed like a starfish. "I surrender," he wheezed.

Ginty plopped down beside him, poking his ribs. "You are a good boy, Jamie.”

I sat down myself. Louisa meanwhile, sat in front of me with her knees pulled up. She stretched her arms overhead, her sundress riding up her thighs. I briefly caught a glimpse of her white underwear as her legs parted slightly. She caught me looking and grinned. "Enjoying the view, Owen?"

I looked down, embarrassed.

But she just laughed, flopping onto the grass beside me. Her shoulder brushed mine, and to my surprise, I didn’t move away. The sun dipped behind the trees, casting long shadows over our tangled limbs. For the first time in months, I felt completely relaxed, despite being naked outdoors with a pretty girl I’d only just met!

Jamie rolled onto his stomach, propping his chin on his hands. "That was fun."

"Yeah," I admitted quietly. "It was."

At that moment, a shadow fell across the grass, tall and broad. I started upright, instinctively crossing my arms over my lap. Jamie just rolled onto his back and grinned. "Hi, Uncle John!"

The man, dark-haired, with a rumpled suit jacket over jeans cocked his head at me. "And who's this? What are you doing with my daughters with no clothes on, young man?" His voice had that posh lilt like Mrs. Coombes, but deeper, rougher at the edges.

Jamie sat up, brushing grass off his knees. "Oh, this is Just Owen! He's my friend. He's on Puericil too."

Uncle John's eyebrows lifted. "I'm only joking. Your Mum told me he was here." His gaze flicked over me, slow and assessing, before settling on my face with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Hello there, Owen. It's nice to meet you."

Friendly enough, you might think, but the way he said it was like he thought I had special needs or something, you know? I swallowed hard, pulling my knees up even tighter. "Um..hello."

Louisa flopped onto her back beside me, sighing dramatically. "Daddy, we're playing. Go away."

Uncle John chuckled, ruffling Jamie's hair—a gesture that made Jamie preen but would've made me bristle if he'd tried it on me. "Ginty, Louisa—Mummy wants you inside to wash up for tea." His eyes slid back to me. "Your mother called, Owen. She'll be collecting you in twenty minutes. I'm afraid my Sister lost track of time. She always was hopeless at timekeeping"

Oh dear, Mum won't like that. Ginty scrambled up first, shooting me a wicked grin as she deliberately stepped over my outstretched legs. "Bye, baby boy," she singsonged. Louisa rose more gracefully, but not before giving my shoulder a squeeze. "See you next time," she murmured.

Once the girls vanished toward the house, Uncle John crouched, slowly, until his face was level with mine. Up close, he smelled strongly of aftershave. "I suppose it's nice to have the sun on your skin, son?"

The "son" made my teeth clench. "Not really," I lied.

Jamie piped up from the grass. "He got spanked yesterday!"

Heat flooded my face. "Jamie!"

Uncle John chuckled, leaning back on his heels. His tie swung forward, brushing my knee. "Oh? What for, then?"

"Nothing!" I snapped, but Jamie was already spilling the beans.

"Not listening to his sister, wasn't it?"

I glared at him. "Well, so did you, anyway!"

John shook his head. "That does not surprise me. I have had to spank Jamie here myself once or twice, haven't I?"

Jamie pouted in response.

"I hope you know how to be a good boy, so I shan't ever have to spank you, Owen."

At this point in this creepy and awkward conversation I jumped up and said, well accidentally shouted, "Mum's here!" as I'd heard her talking to Mrs Coombes in the house and talk about saved by the bell! Forgetting modesty, I gratefully padded away from him toward the house and my rescuer, although I did later feel a little sad that I forgot to say goodbye to Jamie. I left him lolling in the sun happily, watching me scamper off to safety!

I didn’t say much in the car on the way home, which seemed to disappoint Mum to the point where she was almost cross with me. But I was tired and needed time to process all that had happened, good and bad. I’ll probably just tell her about all the good stuff, which is what she wants to here anyway. I guess I won’t mention what Mrs Coombes did. Probably best forget about that! And it wasn’t all bad after all. Jamie is…Jamie. And that’s OK. Louisa seemed nice. Am I rambling? I’m gonna go get some ice cream.

(End of File)