Thinking that if I want to continue to work as a nanny, disgust is really better to get rid of, I again soaped my hand and slipped between Sasha’s halves, quickly felt for his little hole with my finger. The boy shuddered violently and leaned forward.

“See how scared you are right away,” Natasha remarked, “He is dead and afraid to move.”

"And really such a frightened face" - I thought, unceremoniously shoving my index finger into the child's hole.

The boy shuddered again with his whole body and after a second pause began to roar loudly.

- What a roar! - Natasha smiled.

- Do not cry, - with a tender smile turned to the boy Vika, - All children are so washed ass.

“I’m doing Andryusha from the age of six months,” Ira said, “I also roared at first, but I quickly got used to it.”

- See, Sasha? - I smiled, - Even the one and a half year old Andryusha does not cry when his mother washes his ass. And you are capricious.

I pulled my finger out and quickly washed it in the pelvis.

“So it was dirty there,” I told everyone.

“I saw it,” Masha giggled with restraint.

“Yes, they didn’t even teach Sasha how to wipe the ass clean,” I said to the boy with a stinging smile.

Sasha said nothing hurt, still sobbing softly. I soaped my index finger and decided to repeat the procedure. “You will remember this swimming with me for a long time” - I smiled to myself, putting my finger in Sasha's finger again.

- Look, Olya, how offended he is, - Natasha told me, - It seems that now she is about to cry again.

- The main thing that stands quietly, - I smiled, - Does not clamp, does not dodge. If he had stood like this all the time while I was mine.

Having slightly twirled my finger in different directions, I quickly pulled him out of Sasha's priests.

“And now, when I have soaped my ass, I need to wash my legs thoroughly between the legs,” Ira told me again.

“Now I am soaping his farm for the boy,” I smiled, pouring my hand over liquid soap.

“Wash your scrotum properly,” said Ira. “The boys usually have the dirtiest place there.”

I slightly parted the boy's bare legs and gently felt the delicate pink bag, in which there were two small balls. I knew that the boys were tickled when they touched the testicles, but I didn’t expect Sasha to prank on the spot and dodge my fingers.

- Stay calm! - I shouted at the eight year old tomboy, - No, you just look at him! Does not allow itself to be washed between the legs.

“Mine resists when you wash your scrotum,” Vika smiled. “All boys are so afraid of tickling.”

“Nothing, it will endure,” I said, and again slipped my fingers over the tender bag at Sasha between my legs.

Now, when it turned out, how strongly an eight-year-old boy is afraid of tickling, I wanted to tease Sasha specifically, to look for his most sensitive places.

- Where? - irritably burst out of me when the boy backed away, almost knocking over the basin in which he stood, - So I stood quietly when I washed you ass, but now what happened? You can not bear while you are soaped between the legs? Should I have you there as it should be washed. More than a week did not swim. Not to mention the fact that he was passing all this time in his shorts.

I remembered how the boy was afraid to move when I recently held my finger in his ass. “And what if I put it on the hook again?” I thought, and, feeling for Sasha’s finger, quickly dived inside. “They caught the fish,” I laughed to myself, sticking my finger deeper, “Now you can't jump off my hook.”

It was very interesting to watch Sasha's reaction. The boy tried to squeeze the buttocks, but it turned out to be enough for me to simply lift a finger in his ass to make him relax.With a smile, thinking that I had found a way to train an eight year old tomboy, I decided to test my theory.

“Spread the legs,” I said gently, accompanying my request with a shaking boy in the pope.

Sasha looked at me frightened and obediently parted his legs. I lifted the pink scrotum slightly defenselessly between Sasha's legs with my palm. As I expected, the boy tried to dodge from my fingers, but I again shocked him in the ass, making him scared to stop.

“Slightly bend the legs at the knees,” I asked Sasha, as usual, accompanying my request with a twist of a finger in his ass, “And so stand.”

Satisfied that I finally forced the eight-year-old boy to stand still, I decided to experiment with his testicles and generously wipe my palm with liquid soap, and I quickly slipped between her legs to Sasha under the pretext that he should be washed again. “How are you afraid of tickling?” - I smiled to myself, playing with my fingers with funny boy balls.

After a minute of experimenting with Sasha's testicles, it turned out where his most sensitive place is - the boy doesn’t particularly like to be touched behind a scrotum. Having played with the little boy's bag for another half a minute, I finally left him alone.

- Now soaped in front, - I smiled, looking at the naked boy between the legs.

I collected another portion of liquid soap on my palm and took up the smooth Sasha pubis. The boy also didn’t like the sliding touches on the pubis, because he immediately shivered from tickling.

- Stay calm! - I ordered Sasha, as always moving a finger in his ass.

Vika, who, like Ira, finished bathing her little son, came up to our table. She also held him in her arms in the same way, though, unlike the four-year-old Andryusha, four-year-old Kohl, who was wrapped in a towel, was fully dressed in yellow tights and a light-green T-shirt. “Sasha today will also have such a uniform,” I thought with a smile, “Tights with a T-shirt”

- What, girls, decided to take patronage over Olya? - Natasha laughed, - Do you think she won't redeem a boy without your clues?

I looked around, with a grin, noting that everyone in the kitchen was surrounded by a table on which I was bathing Sasha. “Of course,” I smiled to myself, “No one has ever bathed the eight-year-olds from them.” I turned my gaze to Sasha's crimson face - being the center of attention, the boy was terribly embarrassed.

“Wash the creases well,” Vika prompted.

I ran my fingers over Sasha's inguinal folds, not missing the opportunity to tickle the defenselessly open scrotum.

“And now we will wash this little pisyunchik from all sides,” I said tenderly to an eight-year-old boy.

I began to diligently wash a thin baby wand, quietly watching the reaction of the boy. Despite the burning shame of his cheeks, Sasha obediently endured my manipulations.

- and everything? - Vika was surprised when I splashed water on Sasha's pisyunchik to wash off the soap. - And wash under the skins?

- Under the skin? - I stared blankly at the young woman.

- What, you do not know how the pipka is arranged in boys? - Vika laughed, - Look.

Vicka unceremoniously took Sasha Pisinchik with two fingers.

“It’s under this skin,” she smiled, pulling back the gentle proboscis with which the little boy's pony ended.

I stared at the pink head that looked out from under the proboscis. Of course, we went through male anatomy at school and I knew what to expect, but I saw an eight-year-old boy in pisyun in a similar state ... Read more →