Foster Family from Hell - Part 3

Jamie and I were learning to live under the constant torture of the Fosters. I was actually used to walking around in my underwear half the night, and after a couple of times being caught by Kelly's friends (she'd invite them over "to study") I learned to listen to everything she and her dad said on the phone, to each other, literally to anything that came out of their mouths. I got pretty good at anticipating potentially humiliating situations.

Kelly started taking a weekend extension course at the local junior college, so she was gone every Saturday from about noon till 5:00 o'clock or so (I think her class ran from 1:00 to 4:00). Mr. Foster generally left us alone, so I came to look forward to Saturday afternoons as the only time I could relax and feel safe and be myself.

Unfortunately, it didn't last very long. One Friday Kelly announced at the dinner table that Gary and I would be accompanying her and her best friend, Tammy, to their Saturday art class. She had gotten her dad to sign permission slips to allow us to model for her class, and I did not appreciate the intrusion into what I had come to regard as my private time.

"I'm already doing something" said Gary.

"Cancel it" said Kelly. "You're already committed to Mrs. Jennings."

"I didn't commit to her, you did" said Gary.

"That's enough" said Mr. Foster. "Kelly does an awful lot for you boys. I think you can spare one Saturday afternoon out of your lives to do this." That was the end of that discussion.

The next day Jamie and Charlie went to a friend's house for the afternoon and the four of us piled into the family car, and Mr. Foster drove us to the campus. He came with us to the class because he wanted to meet the instructor before he let us stay.

When we walked in we saw a typical art classroom. Easels were set up in uneven rows so that everyone could see the raised platform at the head of the room, and as Kelly walked over to her friend Tammy they both looked at Gary and me and giggled.

The professor, Mrs. Jennings, was a very nice lady in her late 30's. She shook Mr. Foster's hand and said, "I'm so glad to meet you. I completely understand you're wanting to check things out before leaving your boys here." Turning to us she smiled and said, "So these are the brave ones?"

Gary and I both awkwardly said hello, and knowing Kelly as we did we both began to wonder just what kind of "danger" we could possibly be in here in the art class. Why had she said "brave ones" like that? My unease increased moment by moment as I looked at the students.

They were a mix of men and women. Most were in their early 20's, some 18 or 19, and a few in their 40's and 50's. There were about 35 people all told. Pretty much all of them looked back at us as we looked at them.

"It all seems fine" said Mr. Foster. "I just wanted to meet you. You understand?"

"Of course!" she said, and shook his hand and patted his arm.

He put his hands on our backs and pushed us toward her. "If either of them gives you any trouble you just take a ruler to their backsides and they'll straighten right up."

Mrs. Jennings and about half the room laughed, not realizing he was serious. He left, and Mrs. Jennings walked over to a cabinet behind us and pulled out two long blue smocks and handed them to us.

"I guess you'll want to change into these over there" she said, nodding to a free standing partition curtain near the front of the room. We looked at her, confused, and she said, "Well, come one" and crooked her neck in a gesture to follow her.

We followed her to the front of the class, and walked with her behind the huge curtain. "You're probably a little nervous" she said. "That's perfectly normal, but I assure you everyone will be completely professional. I always make absolutely sure of that" and she nodded gravel, indicating the room full of people on the other side of the curtain.

She turned around and left, and I looked bewildered at Gary. I involuntarily pulled back when I saw that his face was bright red. He was PISSED, but I didn't know why. What, exactly, was happening?

"God _d_a_m_n_ her" he whispered fiercely just barely loud enough for me to hear. "That _f_u_c_k_ing cunt!"

"What?" I whispered back desperately. "What is it?"

"Nude sketches" he said, clenching and unclenching his fists. "They're doing nude sketches. We're supposed to model naked."

I felt the color drain out of my face then. I felt so light headed all of a sudden. That couldn't be right. We were at a school! And it wasn't like P. E. and the boys locker room. There were all kinds of people out there; of both _s_e_x_es. And we both went to school with Tammy! They couldn't seriously make us do this.

"Do -- I -- we " I stammered. "They can't make us" I finally said.

"That's why _f_u_c_k_ wad wanted to meet the teacher and had to sign permission slips" he said. "I am such a idiot! I should have seen this!" His voice was getting louder, and we heard Mrs. Jennings say, "Are you okay, boys?"

Gary gulped and said, "Yes, ma'am."

"I know I don't have to remind you all" we heard her say to the class, "that we always behave with the utmost professionalism in these circumstances to put the model -- or models -- at ease." There was a general murmur of agreement which didn't make me feel the least bit comforted.

"I can't" I whispered to Gary.

"You think Kelly won't take a ruler to you in front of everyone? She'd love that. So would that cunt, Tammy."

"I can't" I said again, and tears welled up into my eyes.

"Don't, don't, don't" he said, gently slapping my face with each word. "Suck it up. Come on. You know we're screwed. Don't give her the satisfaction" and with that he kicked off his shoes.

I just shook my head no, but he yanked open his jeans and slid them down. Unbuttoning his shirt he started to dance and sway like he was a stripper, moving to unheard music. I knew he was trying to get me to smile, but I was dreading the next few hours. Few HOURS, I thought desperately.

Gary reached for my shirt and began lifting it up, still swaying and dancing. He smiled as he pulled my shirt up over my head and he did the same with his own t-shirt, leaving him in just his socks and his jockeys.

I kicked off my shoes and started to pull my pants off as he took off his socks. As I took my pants and socks completely off Gary took off his underwear and, completely naked, put his hands on top of his head and continued to dance and sway back and forth. I did giggle then, gulped, and pulled my underwear off.

I quickly reached for one of the smocks, but Gary whispered, "Oh, _f_u_c_k_ that. They probably want to see us taking them off -- like watching us undress."

I was shaking a little, but he smiled conspiratorially at me and flicked my dick. I silenced a gasp, and then I smiled as my heart suddenly lightened. Gary raised his fingers one at a time in a "one, two, three" gesture and on three we both half ran for the platform and jumped up onto the stage, feet set widely apart, our hands held out a bit from our sides.

Mrs. Jennings laughed and said, "I see what you mean, Kelly. We're all very lucky your brothers are so comfortable with their own bodies."

I couldn't look at her, but I heard her say, "Yes, ma'am" and the disappointment in her voice was clear. That did more to make me feel good than all the naked dancing Gary could have ever done.

Go ahead and look, I thought at all of them. Big deal. I have a penis. So do half of you. I was trying to psych myself out, and it was only half working but I didn't feel like crying or anything , which is what I was most worried about (second only to getting a hardon).

My eyes suddenly met those of a very old woman -- easily the oldest person in the class -- and she smiled at me and winked. She was such a non_s_e_x_ual figure, and I suddenly felt safe, though I couldn't tell you why exactly.

We both jerked around a bit and let out little gasps and giggles as Mrs. Jennings positioned us on the platform. She had us grab each other's shoulders and lean forward like we were wrestling. Every 15 minutes or so we were allowed to straighten up and stretch, and every time I looked at the old woman she would nod at me and I'd feel okay. It really helped to never look down at my own body and to just look Gary in the eye.

We did that for about an hour and a half. Then the whole class took a 15 minute break, and Gary and I put on our smocks. "Thank you so much" said Mrs. Jennings. "You're both so good, and so good looking!" That made us both embarrassed. It wasn't the same as when an adult told you how cute you were. She had just been staring at us buck naked for more than an hour.

"I'd like to try a water color next that's inspired by a Norman Rockwell. Would you be willing?" We both just shrugged as we didn't really have a choice. The class came back in and Mrs. Jennings looked at one of the older men and said, "Ray? Would you mind modeling for the Rockwell-esque water color we saw last week?"

About half the class chuckled, and "Ray" got up and said, "Sure."

"Why don't you boys grab your pants?" she said.

She didn't have to ask twice. We quickly ran behind the curtain and pulled on our underwear and jeans. Coming back out onto the platform bare chested we saw that she had put a single hardback chair in the middle, and Ray was sitting in it.

"Now let's see, why don't we have the taller boy here" she said, indicating Gary. He walked over to stand next to Ray, and Mrs. Jennings turned him around and told him to push his pants down to his ankles but to keep his back to the room.

"What?" he asked, startled.

"It's about two boys who have misbehaved and they're getting their comeuppance" she said. "Don't worry" she said quickly when she saw the expressions on our faces. "Ray isn't really going to spank you. It's a still life, remember?"

Gary made one of his resigned sighs, turned around and pushed his pants and underwear all the way down. "Now you need to do the same, but you go over Ray's lap. Can you do that, sweetie?" she said.

I looked at the floor, resigned, and said, "Yes, ma'am." For some reason being partially dressed like this was much worse than being completely naked. Looking only at the floor I pulled my pants and underwear all the way down and placed myself over Ray's knees. The class chuckled again.

When he put his hand on my butt I gasped, and again the class chuckled. "All right, class" said Mrs. Jennings. How humiliating! Was this going to take an hour, too? I wondered. Everyone began busily painting. At least my dick wasn't hanging out anymore, I thought.

After only a few minutes I heard Kelly say, "Mrs. Jennings? The watercolor you showed us had the bent over boy getting spanked. His cheeks were all red, remember?" I squinted my eyes shut, knowing what was coming.

"Well I'm sure your little brother doesn't want to actually be spanked" she said, and again the room laughed.

"Well not spanked for real" said Kelly in mock exasperation. "They both get it all the time at home. If Ray could just bring a little color into his cheeks it would be better."

Before the teacher could respond Ray started lightly smacking my butt and said, "Like this?"

I struggled to stay still and calm. This was so humiliating! "That doesn't really hurt, does it?" he asked.

"No, sir" I said through clenched teeth. The sounds of his light slaps echoed loudly in the big room. It didn't hurt all that much, but it did start to sting. I couldn't stop myself from clenching and unclenching my butt cheeks, and a couple of the students closer to the front noticed and said, "You better let up on him, Ray."

He gently patted my but and ran his hand over my cheeks. "We'll just keep it like this, and if the color starts to go away I'll bring it back a little, okay?" he said to me.

All I could do was nod. If I had spoken just then it would have started me crying. Over the next hour and a half Ray began lightly smacking my cheeks two or three more occasions for a few minutes each. It was so mortifying, and just as I was about to suggest that Gary and I trade places (no matter how mad he got at me) Mrs. Jennings said our time was up.

I quickly hopped up and yanked up my pants, and Gary did the same. We both wordlessly plodded over to the curtain and pulled on our shirts and shoes and socks. We were both pissed now, but also relieved that it was over.

When Mrs. Jennings came over and thanked us she was so nice that it was hard to be mad at her. She had unwittingly played a part in our humiliation, Kelly apparently having told her that Gary and I loved to go around naked all the time. She hugged us both and thanked us again, and as Gary and Kelly and Tammy and I walked toward the door Gary suddenly said, "I have to go to the bathroom" and he walked faster and went out the door ahead of us.

That was the last time I ever saw him. We waited with Mr. Foster for a couple of hours at the school, and we looked everywhere both on the campus and driving around town. He had run away, and the police said that since he was so close to turning 18 that he'd probably make sure to stay in hiding until that time. After that there wouldn't be anything anyone could do.

It was totally unexpected. He never even came around the house to get his things. I have no idea what ever became of him, and I was hurt and disappointed and felt betrayed that he had left me and Charlie and Jamie alone with the foster monsters.

Of course, Mr. Foster was convinced that I knew about the whole thing. He made me report to the family room -- washcloth rule -- that night and spanked me with his bare hand long and hard until I was bawling my head off and swearing that I had no idea where Gary had gone. It was the truth, but he wasn't satisfied until I was reduced to a pleading mess.

I was made to stand in the corner for over an hour before I was allowed to pull on my underwear and go to bed. What would it be like now that Gary was gone? I wondered. Could I handle it? Could I be strong enough for myself and Jamie both?

I fell asleep that night after tossing and turning for a long while, dread sinking deeply into my guts.