Wanderlust- Down by the Swimming Hole

After our chores there was enough help around that work was light, so when two of the farm hands Rocko and Brad wanted to take the horses for a ride I decided to join them.  It was easy enough being the son of the ranch owner to not worry about if the other guys thought I wasn’t doing my work.  Rocko rarely took a moment for himself when there was something to be done.  He didn’t just tell the guys to do something.  He was the first one to do it.  Brad on the other hand was a bit lazy, but his good nature and sense of humor kept the other guys on his side.

It was just after breakfast that we got everything together, our horses, the saddles, a rifle, and a few supplies for lunch.  When you start just as the sun is coming up the morning can seem long.  There were a few times I snuck off to some part of the field or a corner of the barn where no one would see me and took a nap, but heading off with them felt like the beginning of an adventure. 

I was headed off to college at the end of the summer so I wasn’t too worried about consequences.  Anything I did I felt could be forgotten or patched over.  When I came home on break it would all be new to me.  It would be like a new kid moving into the neighborhood, especially since many of the men would be gone or new by then. I felt good about what we were doing.  We probably wouldn’t even be noticed. 

With Rocko in the lead I knew he could handle himself in any situation.  I felt braver with him just being there.  He was the kind of guy that if he asked you to come along you knew he could get you out of something bad.  I had heard stories of him clearing out bars, pushing around cows, and taming stallions.  His hands were rough from handling bails of hay and repairing machinery.  I once saw him carry an engine across the garage to a table so he could get better lighting.  He was broad shouldered and muscled.  At over six feet tall he towered over most people, especially me with my wiry, youthful build.  I guessed him for being in his thirties but didn’t know his age for certain except that he was older than Brad who was much more like myself.

Except he dressed better than me when he wasn’t working as I always inherited my older brothers’ clothes.  He liked new, stylish shirts and blue jeans, kept a hat and a pair of boots in an old trunk that were only for impressing the ladies when he went out drinking.  His only vice was cigarettes that he rolled himself.  He talked about fights and mischief but it never sounded like he actually did it.  He knew a joke, knew a few stories, but didn’t get caught.  He was quite the sight that morning as we rode along behind Rocko on the trail through the woods, not dressed in his best but definitely his cleanest clothes, a flannel shirt tucked into a tight pair of jeans.  He had this beautiful triangle shape to his back. 

Yeah, I had a little crush on him.  I knew it.  Rocko too maybe, but he seemed so unattainable, like he could brush me off without noticing me.  At least with Brad it’d be fair, you know.  It was like if I said the wrong thing to him or he caught on to how I felt it wouldn’t be a problem, at least he couldn’t make it one.  But I kept those feelings deep inside, locked behind a door somewhere. 

We rode along at a quiet, slow pace.  The trees stuck up all around us were covered in leaves so we kept a watch for deer or other animals that might spook the horses.  The worst was a loose dog because they might try to chase you.  A deer or some other wild animal might dash in front or else run from some hiding spot but the dog, well the dog would come right at you.  That was most of the reason why we brought the gun. 

My father owned over two thousand acres, much of it woods, so we could go a lot of places, travel around it for a long time, before we got close to another farm or someone else’s land.  A lot of it was familiar to me so when we started down a trail I recognized that led to a pond I started to get excited.  I had often slipped off to it alone and swam there naked.  Sometimes the farm hands went there after a long day to bathe, though I never saw it, but I heard them talking about it.  Just little jokes and stories about how they’d wrestle with each other or dunk someone in the water, especially the new guys.

As we rode it wasn’t just the idea of swimming there myself but being with them that got me excited.  I could feel myself getting an erection at the notion of it.  I let that fantasy play out for a while until my dick strained against my jeans and underwear and it hurt, then I thought about something else because the closer we got the less likely it seemed, the less I wanted it.  They’d see me too.  They’d know.  I buried that thought deep as I stretched my neck and tried to rattle some other thoughts into my head, but there was little else to think about as we rode. 

It was monotonous with the sound of the hooves and birds.  Neither of them were talking and there was little for me to say.  I had learned when I was young that male bonding wasn’t about saying anything but about the quiet time spent together.  We bounced and swayed with the rhythm of the horses.  Rocko sipped from a flask.  Brad rolled himself a cigarette.  I watched them do it all so casually that I was worried if I tried the same things I’d drop it then have to stop everyone to get off my horse and pick up whatever it was, fighting with my horse the whole time.  So I didn’t try any of that.  I just rode along.

Before getting to the pond Rocko took a short path that led to a campsite nearby on an embankment.  It was used regularly so there were a few logs in a circle that rarely got moved and in the middle was an old ash pit.  I had only been out there when it was being used a few times the summer before when my father thought I was old enough to be around the men.  He let me have a few sips of the moonshine and a beer before we left them.  He said a boss has to keep his distance from the workers because they might start thinking of him as their equal.  I really think it was because my mother didn’t want us coming home drunk.

Rocko led us into the middle of the circle near the ash pit, then stopped and surveyed the shadows.  I moved up beside him as if I had an equal opinion while Brad lingered on the side to roll another cigarette.  I did my best to imitate him, pretend like I knew what he was thinking.  He could have just as easily rode off and I would have followed him, but he didn’t. 

Instead he dismounted and led his horse into a shadow where he tied it to a tree.  I followed him to nearly the same area to do the same thing but he directed me to a better place.  Brad seemed to know what he was doing, or else Rocko didn’t really care about his horse, knowing that if it got sick it would be Brad’s responsibility.  We walked back to the ash pit and stared at the charred remains for long enough that Brad finished smoking and threw the butt into it.  By adding something new I felt like it ruined the moment but started us in a new path towards the pond. 

We walked down narrow, uneven path directly to the water that was ringed with trees and a mud beach.  At the far end was cattails and other greens that grew out of the water and onto the land.  There was a splash of a fish that made us all laugh and look around at each other for a moment.  Rocko put his hands on his hips so I did the same.  Brad stuck his hands in his pockets.  It felt significant just to be there away from the ranch and everyone else so when Brad took off his boots, then rolled up his jeans it felt like some tether that linked us all the way back through the woods had broken.  It was just the three of us ready and willing to do as we pleased.

He set the boots in a dry area before he walked down to the pond where he slowly entered until it was just over his ankles.  Rocko shook his head so I rolled my eyes.  I wanted to strip off my clothes and jump right into the water but I stopped myself with every ounce of self-control I had left.  I tried to make myself content and it almost worked until Brad looked back to me and signaled that I should join him.  I looked to Rocko who shrugged his shoulders, then down to my boots that were getting muddy.  It was foolish to stand there, I thought, so I headed over to where Brad put his boots and started to take mine off.  They were a little awkward so I sat.

“Thinking about going for a swim?” Rocko asked.

“Just taking off my boots,” I responded. 

My voice cracked a little as we hadn’t talked the entire ride out and I barely said anything that morning.  There was so little to be said on a farm when everyone knew what they should be doing and what everyone else had to do.  I cleared my throat to try and get my voice back, get some kind of masculinity.

“Why not do it right?” Rocko asked.

“What do you mean?” I responded.

That was when he started to unbutton his shirt from the collar, worked his fingers down the front where he unbuckled his belt, pulled the ends out and undid them too.  He stepped out of the mud and moved to a grassy area with his back partially to me where he pulled off his boots.  The full length of his thigh and buttocks visible to me I watched as they flexed and tried to imagine what they might look like naked.  He opened his jeans, dropped the shirt from his shoulders to his elbows, then onto the ground.  I could see the muscles in his back, lean hips that didn’t have an ounce of fat, and pale skin.  No underwear, just skin, the only ivory part of his body that hadn’t been touched by the sun.  He pulled his jeans down and I could see the full crack of his ass, the tan line just above his knees.  I was hard just at the sight of him.  I bit my lip to make sure my jaw wasn’t hanging loose and I wasn’t drooling.  Rocko stretched his arms up to the sky and that’s when I noticed Brad was looking at me as I watched Rocko so I looked away to the top of the water, then to Brad who only smirked.

Out of the corner of my eye I watched Rocko step into the water, unable to really see any detail like the size of his dick or his balls.  He got waist deep before I decided it was okay to look back at him.  He ran his hands through the water, splashed it a little.  Brad let out a laugh as he made his way to where he put his boots as he stripped out of his clothes.  I looked up to him as he stood next to me.  He looked down into my eyes as he undid the last of his shirt.  He dropped it beside his boots, then pulled off his undershirt.  He smiled at me and I winced.

When his hands went to his belt buckle I looked away but I could still see him out of the corner of my eye.  It was like he was enjoying it.  Not being watched but teasing me with something he knew, something he saw me doing, and something I wanted.  He stepped out of his jeans, dropped them on his shirt, then pulled off his underwear and dropped them in my lap.  They fell right down in front of my face and partially into my hands.  That made me jump and yell as I threw them aside towards the rest of his clothes.  He laughed a little and Rocko looked back to us but he dismissed any trouble as he walked to the pond.  I looked up to Brad, saw his partially tanned skin from working in the fields and the much smaller patch of white, unblemished ass.  He ran his hands over his stomach, tugged at his dick a little, then looked back to me over his shoulder.

I looked away to my boots that I had yet to get off.  My hard dick betrayed my conscience as it felt like a warning or some kind of alarm that I was a pervert.  It might as well have been ten feet tall and stuck out from me for everyone to see.  I stopped trying to get my boots off and tucked my feet back against my thighs, kept my knees close together as I watched the two of them approach each other.  They seemed to be enjoying themselves and I wanted so desperately to join them.  I wanted to be out there feeling the water on every part of my body, maybe it was cool enough to calm me down.  Though I felt like I could have dipped my cock in a bucket of ice water and it wouldn’t have helped.  Somehow the thought occurred to me that I should have been first and then I wouldn’t have been in the situation I was in by having them out there naked in the water and me on land trapped in my clothes by my own dick.

They splashed water at each other, swam from shore to shore, and dove in the deepest parts.  It took a while for my erection to deflate.  When it did I slid out of my boots, got to my feet and quickly stripped off my clothes until I was down to my underwear.  Like Brad I also wore white briefs and I felt a little foolish standing there with my back to them, but I made sure to grab at my crotch a little before pulling them down and stepping out of them.  I made sure there was no slime in my pubes before I turned to the water and walked to it.  I wasn’t ashamed of my limp dick, not really.  I wasn’t hung like a horse but there was nothing to feel guilty about because I had very little to do with its size.  I walked into the water with barely an acknowledgement from them.  Finally when I was up to my shoulders they swam over to me.

“Glad you could join us,” Brad said.

“Hey, let’s race,” Rocko added.

I wasn’t a good swimmer, could barely do a breast stroke, but I wasn’t sure how good they were so I agreed.  Rocko swam away from us and we followed him to the shore where he climbed out.  I got a full view of his ass and balls as he did, then it was my turn so I followed after him knowing Brad got a full view of me.  Brad was right after me to the point that if I stopped suddenly he would have run into me so I made sure I was out of his way before facing the water.  Almost hip to hip we stood next to each other looking at the other shore.  The sun beat down on our bodies.  There was the smell of grass and flowers in the air and I could hear birds chirping. 

“On the count of three,” Rocko said.

He counted for us and just as I was about to jump when Brad stopped me by pulling on my arm.  I turned on him unsure what he was doing.  He grinned at me, then signaled for me to follow him.  I looked to Rocko who was a fourth of the way there.  It was too late to try and catch up with him.  Brad pulled on my hand so I started moving.  He led me to where we started and our clothes lay in three different piles. 

“Come on, let’s grab our clothes,” he said.

“I don’t know,” I said. 

I looked to where Rocko was halfway across the pond, swimming hard to win a competition that neither of us had even tried.  I could feel droplets of water on my body, in the middle of my back, down over my buttocks, my thighs and my crotch.  Brad was quick to grab up his own clothes before moving to Rocko’s.  Part of my back and stomach clenched at what he was doing.  I moved to grab my own clothes.

“Don’t do that,” I said.

“Come on it will be funny,” he said.

I knew we were doing something wrong.  It felt like I was pushing through some kind of barrier in space and time and like I was ripping apart some kind of connection with Rocko at the same time.  But I couldn’t stop myself.  I couldn’t stop Brad.  It all just felt so dangerous.  It would be nice to see Rocko humiliated, bring him down a peg.  He had never been mean to me but he had always been strict with the other guys, so in charge and full of himself.

“Hurry up and leave his boots,” I said.

He tossed Rocko’s shirt at me.  I let out a laugh and looked back to where Rocko was climbing out of the water.  He shook off, wiped at his body, and looked back for us.  Brad already started up the trail.  Rocko looked up to me and I just started running.  I felt ridiculous with my clothes in my hands as I charged up the uneven path but I didn’t miss a step despite my balls and dick slapping against my thighs.  By the time I got up there Brad had already made it onto his horse.  I went to mine, stuck my clothes and Rocko’s shirt in my bag, then climbed up.  It was strange on the saddle without wearing anything, the feel of the hard leather against my balls and my dick off to one side.  We rode away slowly at first, but panic set in not far down the trail so we started going faster until Brad stopped his horse and I pulled up along side of him.

“We’ll never out run him back to the farm, let’s take another path, even if we get back after him we’ll still have his clothes.”

“Okay,” I said.  “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

“Which way?” he asked.

I thought about it for a moment before I pointed out a path and led the way.  He followed after me and just before we turned a corner I looked back.  When I didn’t see Rocko right behind us I felt relieved.  I wasn’t sure if he expected us to return or maybe he didn’t really care.  I just kept riding.  There was no point in looking back, I thought, besides it was nice to see Brad’s body as he rode.  Whatever trouble this would cost me wouldn’t last long because I’m off to college, I thought.

We took a circular path back to the ranch, stopped at secluded spot to get dressed, then headed to the main barns.  My clothes were slightly damp from not drying off with a towel but it was nice to be home.  We laughed to each other as we went to the barn to return our horses.  We made sure to set Rocko’s clothes in a clean area before taking off the saddles and stabling them, giving them hay as well.  As we walked out of the barn, that’s when I started to feel guilty.  I almost went back to get my horse, saddle up, and go out to find Rocko.  If he wasn’t at the pond then he had to be on his way back, maybe I could minimize his humiliation and avoid any kind of punishment. 

Brad didn’t stop.  He didn’t even seem to look back as he walked to the main house.  He was happy, pleased, with what we had done.  He asked me to get him a beer as he sat on the steps with Rocko’s jeans in his lap.  I tossed the shirt next to him and went to get us a beer each.  No one seemed to be around, the house was mostly empty except for my mother who was in the kitchen cooking.  I said hello to her before I got two beers, took off the caps, and went back to where Brad sat.  He had rolled himself a cigarette and stuck it between his lips.  I sat next to him and asked for a puff.

We passed it back and forth until it was almost down to the end.  That’s when we heard hoof steps and we looked to the line of pine trees to see Rocko on his horse as naked as the day he was born.  He rocked with the gate of the horse until he got to us and he stopped.  I could see his boots in the stirrups and laughed a little as I knew the rest of him was bare.  Brad let out a laugh as well, then stopped and nudged me on the shoulder and pointed up to the man we had pranked.  He looked down at us with the most serious face I had ever seen.  The muscles of his chest, shoulders, and arms seemed larger than they had ever been.  He dismounted and stood next to his horse right in front of both of us.  His hands at his sides I could see everything.  His dick was limp, but thick and long.  His thighs were muscled and pale.  I followed the curves of his abs up past his belly button to his pectorals, then to his neck where I could see veins. 

“How’s it going?” Brad asked laughingly.

I thought all of the blood drained from my face, my jaw hung open as I looked into Rocko’s eyes.  There was no humor anymore.  We had done more than crossed a line.  He was angry.  We had wronged him.  He wanted justice.  He wanted revenge.  And he deserved to get it.  My body felt as if it had become disconnected as I sat there.  I knew I couldn’t do anything.  Brad might try to run but I wouldn’t.  He’d catch me or else tell my father and maybe, just maybe my father’s punishment would be worse.  All I could think was to apologize.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“Not good enough,” he said before he stepped to us and reached for our faces.  I thought he was going to slap us but instead he reached for an ear on each of us, took it in his strong fingers and bent it.  Brad was the first to make a noise.  He argued and struggled while I just whined.  Rocko was naked.  He should have been embarrassed, yet he was manhandling us like two small boys.  He pulled us into his arms, one around each of us, his hand went to our belt buckles that he unfastened easily.  He released me for a moment as he pulled Brad’s pants down around his ankles, then he did mine.  I thought for a moment he was going to strip us but he didn’t do that right away. 

Instead he turned back to Brad who began to struggle to get his pants back up, grabbed hold of the man, and dragged him to the porch steps.  My jeans around my ankles, my briefs in clear view of anyone who would look, I watched as Rocko took Brad over his lap and pinned him there.  Brad struggled for a moment, kicked his legs but there was nothing he could do.  His ass was on full display covered by a thin, white fabric that revealed the shape of each cheek.

“Don’t do this Rocko,” he ordered.

The first whack came down hard and firm causing a sound that echoed from the walls of the house, the roof of the porch, and out into the rest of the farm.  It was followed by a second and a third.  He twisted and tried to reach back.

“The game is over Rocko.  You made your point now turn me loose.”

Two more strikes broke his anger making him raise his hand to his mouth where he bit into it to try and stifle any sound of pain.  Rocko spanked him again, one cheek, then the other, back and forth until he had a rhythm.  Brad arched back a little, then gave up and let his body hang loose as Rocko continued to spank him. 

A breeze came through the trees, over the blades of grass, touched the hair on my thighs, my crotch, and my ass.  It went right through the thin, white cotton to my skin and I knew it was no protection against a spanking like the one Brad was getting, like I would be getting.  The elastic somehow felt tighter around my waist and just above my thighs.  I felt like I wasn’t wearing anything at all.  Brad began to cry.  His whimpers lingered in my brain as spit flew from his mouth.  I liked the noises he was making and it started to get me excited.  I could feel my dick beginning to stiffen, the shifting of my balls, so I closed my eyes to try and think of something else.  I hoped my shirt caused some kind of shadow so that Rocko didn’t see it.

“Please, I’m sorry.  We were just messing around.  You don’t have to do this.  I won’t do it again.  Please, just let me go.”

Rocko stopped so I opened my eyes to see Brad go limp over this strong man’s lap.  He looked defeated.  My ears burned as I knew I would be next unless I pulled up my pants to run.  I thought about it.  I could get away, just run, hide out for a while, then come back when it was forgotten.  I wished I was already at college, but I just couldn’t move.  I was frozen there. 

When Brad started to move I thought it was over but then Rocko held him there, grabbed hold of the back of the man’s underwear, pulled them down over his rosy ass.  I could see every shade, an uneven coloring that started in the center of his cheeks, ran out over the mounds of flesh.  That would be my butt, I thought.  Just how bad would it hurt?  The crack of his ass, the small of his back.  The muscles began to twitch and that’s when he really began to cry as if some pain had been locked there that released itself in one great break.  He was defeated.

“Please just let me up.  I’ve learned my lesson,” Brad pleaded.

Rocko shifted a little, helped Brad to his feet, then pulled him between his knees where he unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it from his shoulders.  Brad just stood there as his shirt fell to the ground.  His red ass now on display to me I studied it carefully, noted the light amount of hair, the way each cheek quivered.  The band of his underwear tucked down under caused the material to have folds and wrinkles.  His thighs moved a little but I knew it was just to try and circulate that feeling of pain.  Rocko turned him and pointed to an area to his left for him to stand so he shuffled to it and stopped.

I looked from Brad’s ass to Rocko who sat seemingly contemplating me, or maybe he was just giving his hand a rest.  I shifted on my aching feet hoping he didn’t think I was going to try and run away.  He just stared at me.  The guilt building up in my stomach with each moment.  His knees were far apart, his limp dick hung down over his massive balls right in the middle of his thighs.  He had deep, black pubic hair.

He raised his hand, signaled with just one finger for me to step to him.  I started to shuffle my feet and I almost lost my balance.  It was all over.  I was going to do it.  I was going to be over his lap.  The tension rose up from the middle of my back into my chest, my lungs.  I started to cry as I made my way to him.  It was as if I could already feel his big hand coming down on my ass, the pain radiating out through my body.  It was an automatic reaction that I just did it, just went through with it.  He stopped me at his knee, took hold of my wrists, my arms, and pulled me down over his lap.

For a moment my feet left the ground, bound together by my jeans they felt useless until they came back down to touch the dirt by just the tips of my boots.  He positioned me carefully, pushed my shirt up my back until it was in my arm pits and I could feel it tight around my ribs.  I was his to do with as he pleased and all over some stupid prank, a joke that got out of control.  If only we had just stopped at the horses, given his clothes back, then we would all have had a laugh.  Or maybe, just maybe, if we hadn’t done it at all. 

The band of my underwear was tight, the cloth against my ass felt like it soaked up every drop of sweat.  Anyone, but especially Rocko could see the details of my ass.  I knew it would give no protection against his hand as I looked up to see Brad standing there out of the corner of my eye.  He just stared off into space with his hands at his sides for a long time before he reached back to rub at the skin.

“Hey, don’t rub it,” Rocko said.  “I want you to feel it for a long time.  I catch you rubbing your ass I’m going to take you back over my knee.”

It was the only warning Brad needed because he promptly put his hands back at his side and raised his head a little to show he could deal with it.  That was when the first strike happened and it caught me off guard.  I didn’t even register it until he raised his hand back in the air.  I wanted out.  Tears fell down from my cheeks onto the steps, my mouth open to breath deep.  I could feel the burn of my lips and ears.  I wiped at my eyes with the back of my hand but a second spank made me regret the act.  I didn’t have time to prepare myself for the next three as he gave them to me in a rapid pace. 

The pain felt as if it was stuck to the very tops of my cheeks, went right down through almost to my dick.  My dick.  It felt just as useless as my feet as it pressed into Rocko’s muscled thigh.  He continued to spank me, each time the pain spread out in circles from where he hit until it reached my lower back, then it ran up into my chest and all the way down to my feet.  I started to sob but he just kept at me.

When I reached back with my hand he only took hold of it, pinned it to my back and continued to swat me.  The sound echoed off the walls and the roof.  I was glad that only my mother was home and that she was probably completely oblivious to what was happening.  Strangely my butt stopped hurting so bad.  The pain became this dull sensation that ran through my skin, even to the top of my head.  I cried out for mercy.  I cried out for him to stop.  I cried out apologies.  His hand came down again and again.  Finally I went limp over him, every muscle in my body gave out.  I hung loose down to the steps, the backs of my fingers against the wood.

That’s when he stopped.  He had broken me.  I was truly sorry.  My chest hurt from the pressure against his thighs but it didn’t matter.  It, the spanking, was over.  Tears felt frozen on my face, I breathed in gasps and tried to speak but I had no voice.  He let me recover for a few minutes before his hands went to my sides to nudge me so I pushed myself up from his lap.  His naked body there still before me didn’t matter.

All I could feel was the burn in my ass from his spanking.  He pulled me between his knees, pulled off my shirt just as he had done to Brad, then pointed to a spot next to him for me to go and stand.  I shuffled my way there, almost bumping into Brad as I moved next to him.  Rocko stood, scratched at himself, then made his way over to me where he promptly pulled my underwear down around my ass to inspect the bruising.  Seemingly pleased with his work he pulled the band back up, a little tight so I felt the back of my briefs between my cheeks.  He did the same to Brad before he walked around in front of us.  He was naked.  We were in our underwear.  But we were clearly more humiliated and ashamed than he was. 

“Take off your pants,” he said.

“What?” Brad asked.

Rocko was quick to slap him across the face.  I looked to them then immediately bent down to get my boots and jeans off.  Brad did the same.

“Put your boots back on, then I want you to go down to the barn like that and muck out the stalls.  Take a moment to compose yourselves but don’t take too long.”

Part Two: Working Hard

Act Your Age The Brat Ch 13 - Under the Tree

The lights of the Christmas tree and seasonal decorations were the only illumination in the room as we sat next to each other on the couch.  I was already down to my underwear and he had taken off his shirt.  My head on his shoulder I ran a finger through the hair on his chest.  I moved from nipple to nipple, down to his belly button, back up to his clavicle.  He felt warm and cuddly, maybe tired enough that we’d just get to bed and fall asleep together. 

“After the New Year I think we should go on another vacation,” he said.

“Do you want to go back to Las Vegas?” I asked.

“No, I was thinking about visiting some friends of mine.”

“Okay,” I said.  “That would be nice.”

“Also I have to do some traveling in February.  There’s a small business convention I want to go to where they have some lectures about restaurants.”

“Oh,” I said.

“It’s just a few days.  You’ll probably be in class right?”

“Yeah, uh, no problem.”

I fell silent at his comments, put my head on his shoulder, let my hand drift down to his crotch.  He didn’t even invite me, or leave it open to me coming along, but I tried to push those thoughts from my mind.  It was all about the moment, the here and now.  So I looked to the tree and the presents.  I liked the idea of running out from the bedroom tomorrow morning to tear into one of them, all of them, but then I thought about getting a chance to have them right then and I made up my mind to try and convince him.

After all we were adults.  There was no mystery of Santa Claus, no great expectation of having some fantasy fulfilled, some material need satisfied.  I didn’t know what all he had gotten me, though I had some ideas after my birthday gift, and I was pretty sure he didn’t know what I had gotten him.  I bit my lip as I pulled my feet up to the cushion and repositioned myself to talk.

“So, we worked pretty late, it’s after midnight,” I said.

“What’s your point?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I was just thinking that technically it’s Christmas and the gifts are under the tree.”

“I’m not sure,” he said, “I was thinking we’d unwrap our gifts tomorrow morning.  Don’t you like waking up and sitting together?”

“I do.  It’s just there was a tradition that we’d open one gift on Christmas Eve and the rest on Christmas Day.  We didn’t open a gift on Christmas Eve because we were working but since it’s technically Christmas Day...”

“Are you tempted?”

I grinned.

“What if I said one present?”

“Please,” I said.

“What if I said no presents?”

“Come on,” I said.

“It sounds like it’s too much for you.  It sounds like you need to learn a little more about discipline.”  I gulped thinking he was insinuating that I needed a spanking.  I was relieved by his next words.  “But I think a little lesson in delayed gratification would be better.  What do you think?”

I was curious about what he had in mind.  As good as the Christmas presents could be I wanted him.  I wanted his touch.  We hadn’t had sex in days and I didn’t get to jerk off in the morning because we were at the soup kitchen helping out.  It had been a long day but I was feeling the stimulation of adrenaline.

“I’m up for it,” I said.

“You will be,” he replied.

I watched him get up from the couch and walk into our bedroom, then go into the the kitchen where he retrieved a wooden chair.  He dragged it back into the room and in front of the Christmas tree.  He positioned it so it was slightly towards the presents but with plenty of space between them.  He beckoned me with a curl of his finger so I got up and walked to him. 

He had me sit in the chair chair, then reached down and tickled my balls through my underwear until I began to get an erection.  He traced over the shaft of my dick, circled the head, back down and up.  I let out a nervous laugh, smiled at him and he smiled back at me.  His finger tip traced lines of pleasure making me begin to leak.  My nipples began to harden so I reached up and began to play with them.  He grinned at me before he took hold of my wrists and pulled my hands down to my sides.

“How long is this going to be?” I asked.

“As long as I want it to last,” he said.

The red and green colors stood out to me in that darkened room, the flame of a candle looked so bright and yet so alone.  He took hold of the front of the waist band of my briefs and pulled it out, then down under my balls so that my dick stuck out towards him, wet at the tip.  He stuck my hands under the band of my underwear at each hip so that they stuck out the other side, then manipulated them around until I was bound. 

“You’re holding your breath,” he said.

I breathed deep, held it, and then exhaled.  Made another nervous laugh as he looked up into my eyes.  I could see his teeth, his wet tongue.  He pushed my knees apart, positioned my ankles back against the legs of the chair, pulled small ropes from his back pocket, then secured them.  He leaned close to my dick and for a moment I thought he was going to take it in his mouth but he stopped.  He let out a impish laugh before he pulled back and stood up. 

“Wait,” I said.

“You don’t get to control this,” he said.

He reached into his other back pocket and pulled out a blindfold, let it hang there for a moment so that I knew what it was before he stepped behind me and used it to cover my eyes.  I was blind when he tied it at the back of my head.

“What’s next?” I asked.

That’s when he put something else at my lips.  At first I thought it was his fingers but as I opened them, felt the hardness yet give, rubber and round.  A gag, I realized.  I relaxed, opened my mouth, and he pushed it between my teeth.  There was the sound, opening of a cap to a bottle of lubricant, the tip of his finger against my chest right in the middle that ran down, slick and teasing, to my pubes, then both of his hands at my stomach, around to my sides making me laugh a little before going up to my arm pits, back out to my pectorals where he massaged the muscles there for a long time as he worked my nipples into points.  It was almost enough to forget about my cock until he took hold of it with one slick hand and began to work it with his fist.

There was little I could do as I felt the bindings on my ankles and my wrists in my own underwear, useless against my thighs.  One hand slid over my chest while the other was on my dick and I thought for a moment he was working me to a climax until he let go and that hand down there slipped to my balls where he took a firm hold, pulled them down just enough to distract me. 

His fingers moved over me leaving barely a trace of sensation.  The gag between my teeth made me salivate, drool ran from my lips down over my chin and to my chest.  He tickled and rubbed me in different areas, sometimes predictable and other times not.  But when he went back to my dick as if to focus all of his attention on it I got really excited because I thought he would work me to an orgasm.  Grunts and moans escaped from my throat.  His fingers left me though.

That’s when I heard tearing down there at my underwear as he worked an opening in them to get to my butt.  First one probing finger and then something else.  It felt long and rigid as it slipped along my flesh to my hole.  He pushed the dildo inside of me with consistent pressure until I felt myself give completely, my flesh wrapped around it, gripped at it.  I felt open and full at the same time.  My dick was the hardest it had ever been and yet it felt nothing, no sensation, nothing to rub against.  I moaned some more as I wanted to be able to beg him, plead with him for just a little touch. 

His fingers ran along my thighs from the inside out to my knees, then back to my crotch.  I desperately wanted him to touch my dick, my balls, but he moved out again, back in, and out again.  The saliva on my chest felt cold and foreign to me though I knew where it had come from, my own mouth.  I thrashed about against my bindings in an attempt to rub against something with my dick.  It felt detached and yet it was the most sensitive part of my body, a blind probe.

I was about to give up when I felt his hands leave my legs but then I felt him there at the bulbous head.  I felt his hot breath, the nip of his lips.  And then an all consuming, warm and wet surrounding of his mouth.  His tongue against the underside of my dick.  I felt as if I was leaving my body.  It wasn’t the familiar sensation of an orgasm from masturbation.  It felt as if some part of me was leaving as I ejaculated.  It felt as if I had given something away. 

He pulled off me, took my dick in his hands.  He milked every last ounce of cum, every sensation until my dick was sensitive and I tried to pull back but he kept after me, his fingers on the sensitive head slipped over its surface, brushed the opening that felt impossibly big.  He kept at it as I moaned.  He worked the dildo in me to remind me it was still there, took hold of my dick, worked it as hard and fast as he could. 

I tried to refuse.  I tried to wish the pain and pleasure away.  He kept at me and in another moment before I knew exactly what was happening I orgasmed again this time it felt as if something had been cut off.  One moment of excruciating bliss. 

Sweat covered my body and my muscles ached.  I wasn’t sure I could stand.  He slipped the dildo from me, pulled the gag from my mouth, and kissed me.  He undid my wrists.  My underwear felt stretched and torn, but I knew it could be replaced.  He untied my ankles, ran his fingers up my legs to massage the blood and muscle back into place.  He kissed me again on the lips before he got to his feet and pulled me up to him with both hands in my armpits.  I was like a doll, barely able to support myself.  My underwear fell down to my ankles and he laughed a little so I laughed back as I tried to steady myself.

I thought for a moment of how to get to the bedroom but then I felt him take hold of me again, this time his arm down behind my knees, and he lifted me from the floor.  My limp dick pointed back towards my belly button he carried me into the bedroom where he lay me down on the bed.  We kissed as he crawled over me onto his side.  I rolled away from him and he moved up behind me.  Our skin felt like two connected parts, his breath on the back of my neck was a familiar comfort.

The next morning I awoke to find him on his back with his eyes open.  I asked him how long he had been awake and he said it had only been a few minutes.  He asked me if I wanted to open my presents.

“Can I?”

“Of course,” he said.

I jumped up from the bed and ran out to the tree.  He was quick to follow.

Act Your Age The Brat Ch 05 - Up To No Good

By the time I got to Leo’s house I already had two drinks at a bar near my father’s office before I caught the bus.  I had to change buses twice and was kind of irritable, but I forced myself to smile as I knocked on the door.  I wasn’t surprised to find a naked, male stranger answering the door.  He looked like a hippie with long hair, a natural, thin build, and body hair.  His dick was uncircumcised and a few inches when limp.  I had to force myself to look him in the eye.

“Hey,” he said.

“I’m Shane.  I’m here for Leo.”

“Yeah, come on in,” he said.

He pushed open the screen door so I opened it, then stepped inside the house.  It smelled of pot but was otherwise clean.  Someone called my name so I walked further into the house to the dining room.  I grinned when I saw Leo, Parker, Matt, and Trent were all playing strip poker.  Each of them was mostly undressed as there was a pile of clothing in the middle of the table.  The guy who had let me in walked past me and went into the kitchen.  I followed him with my eyes and I was delighted when he went to the refrigerator, opened the door, and bent over to get something.  I could see the full shape of his cheeks, the depth of his crack, two swinging balls, and the hint of his dick.

“Still misbehaving?” Parker asked.

“Sometimes,” I answered.

I continued to stare at the new guy, unashamed, or maybe a little drunk and not afraid of what they would think of me.  I watched him get out some food that he carried to the counter out of view.  It was only then I looked back to them.  They all had been watching me and started to laugh.  I know I turned a shade of pink as I cleared my throat and moved to an open chair.

“So, you’re the birthday boy tonight,” Trent said.

“That means we get him proper fucked up,” Matt added.

 They all laughed a cheered.  I looked around at them.  Trent was closest to me on the same side of the table.  I noted that he was down to his boxers, the way a small bit of fat created a roll at his stomach.  It was kind of cute.  Leo and Parker were shirtless so I studied their muscled chests and their nipples.  Matt still had his shirt on but I had a feeling he wasn’t wearing pants.  Who takes off their pants before their shirt in strip poker?  I was about to say something when I felt the presence of the guy who greeted me at the door beside me. 

When I turned my head I was looking straight at his dick.  I let out a nervous laugh and the other guys laughed at me.  I had to crane my neck to look up into the stranger’s eyes.  He was casually eating some kind of salad from a bowl.

“This is my roommate Ross,” Leo said.  “He lost at poker.”

“He’s not very shy,” I said.

“You’re in my seat,” Ross replied.

“Of course,” I said before getting to my feet.

“Want to play a hand?” Parker asked.

“No, I’m okay,” I said.  “I thought we’d be going out drinking.”

“Oh yeah, sure,” Leo said.  “Let’s finish this up then.”

“Can I put my underwear back on?” Matt asked.

“What do you say guys?  Let’s call it quits and get some drinks before we go out to the bar.”

“Amen,” Matt said.

“Fine with me,” Parker said before laying down his cards.

“Let’s get drunk,” Trent said.

Leo got up and began to sort through the clothes.  Matt stood and grabbed a pair of underwear.  I couldn’t help but notice his slightly erect dick and a little tightness in his balls.  Straight or not he was getting off on this, I thought.  It wasn’t long for them to pull their clothes back on, clean up after the game, and spread out through the house.  I was a little unsure of what to do until Leo motioned me into the kitchen.

“What are you drinking?  Do you want a beer?”

“I’d prefer liquor,” I said.

“Whiskey is in the cabinet there.  Clean glasses are probably in the dish washer.”

I retrieved the bottle from the cabinet he had indicated and found a clean glass in the dish washer like he said it would be, then went into the dining room.  Leo followed after me with three glasses and a beer in his hand.  He set the glasses down in front of me and indicated I should pour some whiskey into each one.  He took a seat as the other guys slowly made their way back into the room.  Parker, Matt, and Trent took a glass and found a place to stand.  We didn’t talk.  I was the first to finish so I started to pour myself another.

“Big drinker?” Matt asked.

“You remember the way he killed that bottle of vodka,” Parker said.

“Oh yeah right,” Trent said.

“Ever have a Fuzzy Navel?” Matt asked.

“No, I don’t think so,” I said.

They laughed mischievously and I knew I had missed something but I shrugged it off.  Leo looked at me impishly.  I knew he was setting me up somehow but I didn’t know what he would do.  How could I prepare myself for everything?

“Ever have a Pink Belly?”

“What’s a Pink Belly?  Is it some kind of drink?”

Leo jumped up from his seat and shouted, “Pink Belly!”, then charged towards me.  I started to try and get away but the guys on either side of me quickly took hold of my arms and together with Leo at my ankles they forced me onto my back in the middle of the table.  They pulled my shirt up to expose my belly.  They laughed and cheered. 

I was going to find out what a Pink Belly was.  Leo started to slap at my skin, soon the others had a free hand and were taking turns.  I laughed and screamed for them to stop but they didn’t and instead they continued their assault until my laughter stopped as I felt my belly hurt.  It seemed like they were equally drained.  There was no more fun in the prank so they let me up.  I felt a twinge of pain in my abs and my belly.

“That hurt,” I said.

“Let’s get you another drink then, this time at a bar,” Parker said.

We walked the few blocks to the beach and the first bar.  It was a straight bar in the way that all bars are straight bars unless otherwise stated.  We took a table in the back.  When everyone else ordered food I decided it was a good idea and got some as well.  I didn’t realize how drunk I was until I figured out that I hadn’t talked much the entire time so to sober up I ate as much of my food as I could, then headed to the men’s room.  I was surprised when Parker came in after me.  There was something brotherly about him, something paternal and I didn’t like it.

“You don’t have to take care of me,” I said.

“You didn’t look too steady on your feet,” he replied.

My dick between the fingers of my one hand I leaned against the wall with my other to stabilize myself.  I felt the familiar release of a bladder full of alcohol, closed my eyes.  When I opened them a moment later I was surprised to see him there next to me.  He unzipped his fly and pulled out his dick.  He pulled back the foreskin and started to piss.  He looked down at where I stared, then up into my eyes.  I raised my vision up to meet his.  He looked down to my dick.

“You’ve been done for some time,” he said.

“Thanks, I was just letting it air dry,” I said.

“I’d put it away before someone thinks your up to something perverted.”

He tucked his own away after finishing and went to the sink.  I did the same, swayed a little when I got to the counter.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“You don’t have to be so damn paternalistic,” I said.

“Relax, you just don’t look too good,” he said.

He turned away from me.  I followed after him.  When we got back to the table I sat back down in my seat and looked around at everyone who was talking amongst themselves and I suddenly wanted a cigarette.

“Does anyone smoke?” I asked.

No one seemed to notice so I asked again but louder.  Everyone looked to me and I suddenly felt kind of ridiculous.  Was it too loud?  Did I drink too much?  I raised my hands to dismiss their concerns and criticism.  It wasn’t long after that we headed out of the bar.  I fell to the back.  The alcohol had caught up with me.  I looked at my phone.  There were several messages from Mr. Grant, a few from Ethan.  I dismissed them and checked the time.  I was horrified to find it was still early in the night.  Leo fell back, put his arm around me to get me to walk faster. 

“Put your phone away,” he said.

I put it away and put my arm around him.  I was about to say something romantic when I spotted a gas station ahead of us and demanded that I needed some cigarettes.  They obliged.  I felt a little out of place at the counter.  Everything else felt like it was too slow but I suspected I was the one in slow motion.  The clerk barely acknowledged me as we exchanged money for cigarettes and a lighter. 
Just outside I opened the pack, took out a cigarette, and offered them to the rest of the guys.  I was half surprised when Parker took one.  I lit his first, then my own.  I took a deep drag, held it in my lungs.  There was a familiar buzz.  I perked up right away so we kept walking.  I had two cigarettes by the time we got to the next bar.  We had two drinks each.  Leo, Parker, and I slipped out to the alleyway for a smoke between them.  I caught my second wind by the time we were leaving.  I don’t remember much about the place except that it felt like a fake dive bar. 

We had to catch a bus to the third place, a gay bar farther down the beach.  There was a bouncer at the door who checked our ID’s, then let us into the place.  Everyone else was a little drunk too, but holding up in their own ways.  Trent and Matt clung to the table afraid someone would ask them to dance.  Leo was quick to strip off his shirt and go to the dance floor.  Parker seemed to hold us together like an anchor as he watched over everyone.  He sat there casually drinking whiskey for a long time before he got up and went to the men’s room. 

I was too slow to follow right behind him.  I got to my feet, started after him, but the place was crowded.  When I bumped into someone I liked it a little too much, apologized, and continued to move.  I was almost there when I saw someone I didn’t want to ever see again.  It was the moment I had dreaded ever since Mr. Grant had fired Ryan, I saw him and he saw me.  We passed each other but I didn’t look back.

Instead I pushed my way into the men’s room.  Parker was at the urinal trough so I made my way next to him and unzipped my fly, pulled out my dick.  I swayed a little.  He grabbed the back of my shirt with his hand. 

When I finished I barely noticed that Parker had his eye on someone else at the trough.  I just laughed to myself and moved to the sink where I washed my hands and watched in the mirror as Parker went into a stall followed by a stranger.  The other guy fell to his knees. 

“If you’re drunk enough,” I said aloud.

I watched as the guy took out Parker’s dick and began to suck it.  I was about to say something, turn on them, and try to ruin it somehow when Parker managed to close the door.  It pissed me off.  I wanted him right then.  I should have been on my knees.  I had my chance at the party but I had passed it up.  I didn’t want to cheat on Mr. Grant.  I stumbled out of the men’s room, down the hallway, and back out to our table.  Matt and Trent looked to me.

“He’s going to be a while,” I said.  “Some guy’s sucking his dick.”

They rolled their eyes.  I was about to say something back when I felt a presence next to me.  I half thought it was Parker so I turned kind of casually, readied myself for a joke or something.  Instead I felt a rush of adrenaline and clenched my fist when I saw it was Ryan.  He was dressed in a button down shirt that was open at the collar.  He had that same grin.

“You got me fired,” he said.

“What?” I asked.  He looked ready to repeat himself but I stopped him.  “No, you got yourself fired.  You shouldn’t have done that to me.”

“It was a joke,” he replied.  “But I guess it helps when you’re fucking the boss.”

I got to my feet.  We were chest to chest.  I was clearly the more drunk of the two of us as I bumped against him, then steadied myself.

“Do you know how humiliated I felt?  I didn’t want to go back to work after that.”

“We could have settled it between ourselves.” 

“What do you want to fight?” I asked.

That’s when he raised his hands in a show of peace as we stared in each other’s eyes.  He started to back away and I clenched my fist.  Even then it felt like he was getting away with something, slipping out of the responsibility.  I thought to take a swing at him for some reason, just push through that resistance I felt of behaving myself.  It was a relief when Leo stepped between us with a drink in his hand.  He set it down at the table, then looked to each of us.

“What?” he asked.

Ryan didn’t move so I turned and walked away, out of the bar and into the cool night to light a cigarette.  I moved to the wall and leaned against the brick.  The bouncer kept me in his peripheral vision as he checked the ID’s of some other young guys.  By the time I was almost done with my cigarette I was surprised to see Leo, Parker, Matt, Trent, and Ryan as well as two of his friends stepping out of the front door.

Somehow I felt he had tricked them to his side before I saw them split up a little.  Parker and Leo made their way to me.  Matt and Trent stood in the middle, and Ryan and his friends were at a distance but still close by.  Leo had his shirt in his hands and a coy smile on his face.  I was about to ask him what he was thinking when I looked past him to Ryan and his friends who weren’t leaving.

“Oh no,” I said.

“He just wants to talk.  We’re all going back to my place.  Is that okay?”

I gritted my teeth together, exhaled the smoke through my nose to make myself look as tough as possible.  It did little as they were too caught up in their own minds.  Leo pulled on his shirt, adjusted it around his waist.  I looked to Parker.  That feeling of protection I had denied earlier felt needed, wanted and at least with him there it would be fair.  He could overcome all odds. 

“They drove here so we’re going to catch a ride with them.  Don’t worry you don’t have to be in the same car as Ryan.”

I stepped from the wall and into the group.  Leo got behind me, put his hands on my shoulders.  We all meandered to the street parking.  I ended up in the back seat of a stranger’s car with Parker.  Leo ended up in the passenger seat or Ryan’s car.  I knew Leo had more than an apology in mind.

When we got back the house was just as we had left it, though Matt and Trent quickly left after we got inside.  They said they were walking home so I figured they didn’t live far away.  I didn’t really notice because I headed straight to the liquor cabinet where I took out a bottle of whiskey, then found a glass in the sink.  I rinsed it off, poured myself a drink.  Ryan and Leo had made their way to the living room.  Parker and the two strangers were in the dining room. 

As I passed Parker he tried to signal, then call me back to join him, and when I got to the living room Leo and Ryan stared at me as if I had ruined something.  I was kind of happy I did.  I downed half of my drink before I sat between them.  I didn’t want my friend and my enemy getting together.

“Would you get us something to drink?” Ryan asked.

“Sure,” Leo said before pushing himself away.

I leaned back into the cushions, turned my head to Ryan.  I wanted to say I hated him.  I wanted to say he humiliated me.  He just smiled at me and somehow I almost wanted to forgive him, even when he took my drink from my hand and finished it off before setting the glass on the table.  He leaned back into the cushions, half turned to face me.  I thought he might kiss me as he stared at me.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Me too,” I said.

“Really?”

“I don’t know.  I’m really drunk.  Ask me in the morning.”

He laughed it off.

“I really am sorry,” he said.  “It’s just that the job cost me.”

“It cost me too,” I said.

I felt like I could say anything to him because there was a good chance I wouldn’t remember.  I could blame my loose tongue on the alcohol.  No, it was more than that.  I felt as if the entirety of my being had been contracted to just my head. 

“What did it cost you?” Ryan asked.

“I can’t say,” I replied.

“What?  It cost you money?  It didn’t cost you the job.”

“It cost me,” I said.

“Tell me,” he said.

I bit my lip until it was good and wet.

“A spanking,” I said.  “It cost me a red ass, not directly, but sort of indirectly because I fucked around all day and didn’t act responsibly.”

“What the hell does that mean?  Who spanked you?  Was it your father?”

“No, it’s an arrangement we have.”

“Who?  You and Mr. Grant?  You mean, he, like spanks you.”

“Only when I misbehave,” I said.

“That’s messed up,” he said.

“Actually it kind of helps because I was a mess when we met.  It’s not like blackmail or anything.  It’s a challenge.”

Leo brought Ryan a drink and noting a change in the atmosphere of the room he left us to talk.  Ryan downed his drink in a few swigs.  I thought about moving but it just felt too good to rest there.  I had overdone it again.  When I thought about if I might piss myself I felt this kind of laughter even though my face didn’t move.  We were quiet for a long time before Ryan finally broke the silence.

“Do you think if I let him spank me he’d hire me back?”

“No,” I said.  “He doesn’t really mix business and pleasure.”

“Do you know anyone else into that kind of thing?”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.  I’m kind of curious.”

“Well, if you’re serious I’d be willing to do it,” I said.  I couldn’t believe what I was offering, what I was potentially getting myself into and yet it was happening.  If he just said yes, if he just offered himself to me, then I’d be able to really see what it was like to be the one administering a punishment.

“We could do it right now,” he said.

“No,” I said, “not now, I can’t really get up.  We’ll make a date and figure out a time and place.”

He asked for my phone number and when I told him it he punched it into his phone, then saved it.

“Okay,” he said.

“Good,” I replied.

He got up from the couch and went to find Leo.  I wanted to say something.  I wanted to do something but I was so inebriated that I couldn’t move.  And then I saw myself as if I was having an out of body experience.  It was like I was in the corner of the room looking back at myself.  I look so small, I thought.  Then there was darkness.

I awoke hours later to find myself face down on the couch and covered by sheet.  I felt the softness of it against my skin so I felt around to find that I was down to my underwear.  My body felt stiff and disconnected.  I rolled onto my side, felt the line of my briefs across my upper thigh.  At least my asshole doesn’t hurt, I thought. 

There was a familiar sound from somewhere in the house.  It was the sound of a headboard hitting the wall.  I listened more closely and thought I could make out grunting and moaning.  Someone was getting it.  I thought about Mr. Grant.  I thought about the time we made the headboard knock.  I started to get an erection so I reached down into my underwear and started to play with myself.  It didn’t feel right but I couldn’t stop it.  I just wanted to feel something, anything.  My dick became slippery easily with my own ejaculate, the head felt extra sensitive.  I tickled it until I had an orgasm, then fell back asleep.

When I awoke it was to the sound of cereal being poured into a bowl.  The sheet was across half of me, wrapped between my legs.  I pushed myself up.  I needed to piss but I also had an erection.  Self-consciously I crossed my legs, draped the sheet over them as I looked around to see if I could make sense of what was happening, who was awake and where they were.  I was glad to see Ross emerge from the kitchen with a bowl in his hands.  He was dressed in jeans and an old t-shirt. 

“Where’s everyone at?” I asked.

“Leo is still in bed,” he answered.  “That guy who was with him last night left a few minutes ago.  Why?”

I shook my head to dismiss the question when I spotted my jeans on the floor.  I picked them up and pulled out my phone.  There were several messages from Mr. Grant and two from a number I didn’t recognize.  They were picture messages.  I sighed to myself as I opened the first one.  It was me, in my underwear with a wet spot on my crotch.  The second message was of Ryan’s face with my crotch in the background.  In a moment of pure anger I threw my phone against the couch and was horrified when it bounced and fell to the floor.  My life couldn’t get much worse, I thought.

The Brat Ch 07 - Collateral Damage

“See that nerd over there,” my heart sunk at the comment, “I think he’s game.  Do you want to see which one of us can get him to give a blow job?”

“No way,” I said.  “I’m in a relationship.”

“Okay, well I’m going to give it a try.  Ten bucks says if he doesn’t have braces then I’m going to get him to blow me.  If he does have braces then I’m going to have him give me a hand job.  What do you say?”

I shook my head as I said, “no way.”

“You’re no fun.  Well, bet or not I’m going for it.  I bet he’s a virgin.”

Ryan got up from where we were sitting and crossed the distance between us to the young man he had pointed out.  He looked to be my age but skinnier, more awkward.  He wore a black t-shirt with some kind of gaming logo I didn’t recognize and cargo shorts with full pockets.  He had thick framed glasses, dark hair, and a slight case of acne.  He was cute but shy.  He was no match for Ryan with his muscled arms and chest, his experience of conniving.

The young man looked away nervously as Ryan sat beside him.  I thought it was over and that the guy would run but then Ryan seemed to say hello, come up with some reason to talk.  I watched them chat for a few minutes, then Ryan leaned to his ear and whispered something.  The guy blushed as he looked away to consider the proposal.  He whispered something back to Ryan who clapped him on the back before he got up and walked to me.

“Not going to work?” I asked.

“Actually he’s interested but he’s definitely a virgin.  Though I think he’s thought about it a lot.  He knows where there’s a bathroom that doesn’t get used much but he wants someone to be the lookout.  Would you help us?”

I rolled my eyes at the prospect.  It wasn’t the act.  It was Ryan.  I was liking him less and less.  He was just going to use the guy, a virgin no less.

“Come on he wants it.  He wants me.  I probably remind him of the high school quarterback he always fantasized about.  He’ll get just as much out of it.  It will be a fantasy come true.”

“Okay, okay, you’re over selling it.  Let’s just get this over with,” I said.

He motioned for the guy to lead the way and we followed after him by about twenty feet.  Ryan kept looking everywhere else in a casual strut.  I watched the young man, the way his feet moved, and the way his ass looked in his pants, especially when he took the escalator up.  He led us to a nearly abandoned area of the mall where many of the stores had closed.  It was strange that it felt so dead even though the rest of the mall was filled with light and people.

For a moment I worried it might be a trap of some kind but then I really thought about it.  There was two of us and he didn’t look like the type to really have many friends, at least many friends who would mug us.  The guy went in first.  Ryan stopped me in the doorway, took hold of my shoulders and pushed me to the wall just inside so that I could watch out for people.

There was no door, just a curve of concrete to provide that illusion of privacy.  I listened to them go into a bathroom stall and close the door.  Ryan whispered some orders.  There was the drop of pants, a second pair, then a grunt as someone, not Ryan, got down on his knees.  It took some time before there was a moan of pleasure from Ryan, then some gagging.

“Just use your hand then,” Ryan said.  “But keep jerking yourself off.  When you catch your breath try again.”

I listened to the rubbing, a grunt of frustration, another moan of pleasure.  It went on for some time, then it stopped as I imagined the guy sticking Ryan’s dick back in his mouth.  I had just seen how big it was earlier that day.  Sucking on it was one thing but I hoped the guy wasn’t try to deep throat it.  My jaw ached sympathetically, and my dick was even getting hard so I placed one foot against the wall to stick out my knee in an attempt to camouflage it.

“I’m almost there.  Don’t try and swallow it.  That’s it.  Oh fuck, close your eyes.  That’s it.  You look so good.  Did you finish yet?  Stand up, here let me help you.”

It wasn’t much longer after that when the guy let out his own moan of pleasure.  There was the thud of hands against the walls of the cubicle, the shuffle of pants around ankles, deep breathing.  I heard Ryan pull up his pants and underwear first before he unlocked the door, then pushed it open.  I peaked around the corner to see his reflection in the mirror.  His face was a little red as he moved to the sink.  I heard the other guy struggling with his pants.

Ryan checked his hair before he dried off his hands.  He looked himself over, then walked to me as I stood there waiting for him.  He motioned for me to follow him but I paused.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

I felt bad for what he did, the fact he was leaving the guy so easily.  I had a few anonymous encounters in my life but not with a virgin, not the way I felt Ryan manipulated the guy.

“Maybe we should make sure he’s okay,” I said.

“The way I left him I’m not sticking around, though he might be.  I’m leaving.  If you want to stay and face his wrath then that’s your choice.  He was fun but he wasn’t good.  He’s just some nerd.”

“So that’s it?”

“Yeah, you’ve done it before, let’s go.”

“No, I’m staying.”

“Your funeral,” Ryan said.  “Why don’t you give me a hug?”

It felt like a weird request but I leaned forward out of some kind of naivety or maybe nostalgia.  I was surprised when I felt Ryan’s hands go down my back, his fingers grabbed hold of my underwear.  He pulled up as fast and hard as he could.  My briefs gave easily, the back went up between my cheeks, the front pulled down against my erection and balls.  He pulled out of my arms, pushed me back against the wall.

“Don’t call me, I’ll call you,” he said.

I watched him walk away, made sure no one was coming into this section of the mall, then went into the mens room.  It smelled of urine and cleaning fluid, a slight odor of ejaculate.  The stall door was still open.  The guy had his back against the wall with his hands to his face.  I wanted to go to him right away but I stopped myself.  I went to the sink area instead and unfastened my jeans, pulled them down my thighs to my knees where I secured them so they wouldn’t fall to my ankles.

“That guy you just sucked me off just gave me a wedgie,” I said.

“What?”

“That guy, you just sucked him off.  He gave me a wedgie.”

“He’s an asshole.  I thought he was your friend.”

“He’s not my friend.  It’s complicated.”

I looked to my reflection, then to his.  He stepped out of the stall and I could see at once what Ryan had done to him as there was ejaculate on his face, in his hair, and the front of his t-shirt.  My bare ass was still visible to him.  I wondered if he noticed the spanking marks before I self-consciously plucked the back of my briefs, let them fall loose.  I was glad I kept myself clean, but it still felt ridiculous.  The guy moved past me to the sink where he turned on the water.  I pulled my jeans back up, with a lift of my shirt and a quick turn I made sure none of the waist band of my underwear stuck out.  He looked ready to cry, ready to punch something.

“What’s your name?  I’m Shane.”

“Ben,” he said.

“Are you taking the bus?”

“No, I have a car, but I can’t walk out of here like this.  I’m still in high school.”

“How old are you?”

“I’m eighteen.  Why?”

“No reason,” I said.

“Don’t worry, your friend made sure I was legal.”

“No, it’s just...  He’s not my friend.  It’s just I would have taken you for a drink or something.”  I lied.  I think he knew it as he let out a laugh.

“Where’d he go?”

“He abandoned me.”

“He’s a sick bastard,” Ben said.

“I just found out today how sick he is.”  I turned and sat against the counter.  “I might be able to help you out.”

“How?” he asked.

“Well, I know it sounds fucked up but could I get a ride home?” I asked.  “If you promise to drive me home, then I’ll switch shirts with you.”

“Really?”

“It would be only one more embarrassing thing I did today.”

We switched shirts and it was an easy walk out of the mall to his car.  If anyone noticed the shirt I didn’t pay attention.  He drove with an easy, conscientious style as I gave him directions.  We didn’t talk until we got to my place.  I unbuckled my seatbelt and he cleared his throat so I knew there was something he wanted to say.

“We still haven’t switched back,” he said.

“Oh right, of course, I’m just kind of distracted.”

He looked sad and disappointed.  I was pretty sure it was his first anonymous hookup.  It was a shame it had to be with Ryan.  I felt bad for him.  He was cute.

“Do you want me to wash this for you?  Maybe we can just trade.”

He shook his head.

“What is it?” I asked.

“It’s just, you know, you seem like nice guy, despite knowing that prick.  Lots of people would have left with him but I heard you guys talking.”

“It’s no problem,” I said.

“Yes it is, but I know what you mean.”

He looked as if he was going to say something but didn’t.  I almost tried to provoke him by saying something but I decided to let the silence hang there.  Finally he opened his mouth.

“It’s just, I don’t have many gay friends.  Do you want to exchange numbers?”

“Yeah sure,” I said.

The Brat Ch 03 - Best Behavior

That night out with Mr. Grant and Ethan I was on my best behavior and so was Ethan, something about the twinge of pain each of us felt when we sat down, the few times we sat down.  After we dropped Ethan off back at his apartment we went home.  I was quick to strip down and get into bed.  My back against the headboard, covers over my lap, I waited patiently as Mr. Grant moved about the house, checked the windows, and turned off all the lights.  I had just closed my eyes when I felt him nudge me awake as he sat on the bed.  I opened my eyelids ready to tell him to get into bed when I saw two wrapped presents in his hands.  One looked like a book.  The other was oblong and not very big.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Open it,” he said offering me the box.

I took the book in hand, tore the paper from it.  I didn’t want to seem greedy, plus I thought it might give me a clue.  I was surprised to see it was about writing screenplays.  I looked at him a little confused.  He smiled back.  I tore into the second present with a little more enthusiasm.  I was surprised to see it was a digital video camera.  I knew at once that it was pretty expensive.  I blushed.

“Now this isn’t for recording sex or anything like that.  It’s for you to work on a project, a movie or something like that.  Promise me you’ll use it for your studies, maybe a career or something.”

“I promise,” I replied.

I leaned up in the bed, kissed him on the cheek, then sat back against the pillows as I ran my hand over the smooth box.  I wanted to open it right then, get it to work, and start recording something but I thought about the time.  I regretted for a moment that we had gone out, that he hadn’t given it to me earlier, but I also felt a tremendous amount of happiness and that I owed him a debt.  He had done something significant for me.

“Do you like it?”

“It’s great,” I said.

“Good,” he said.  “We should be getting to bed.”

“I’m just so happy.”

“Maybe we can do something to calm you down.”

He placed his hand on my forearm, leaned in for a kiss.  I let him slip his tongue between my lips.  His tongue slithered against mine for a long time as I reached down under the covers to my hardening dick that was trapped in my briefs.  I was ready for it to happen right then but he pulled away.

“Have you brushed your teeth yet?” he asked.

I clenched my teeth together as I smiled my best cute and guilty smile.  He shook his head, then motioned for me to go into the bathroom.  I got up from the bed.  He followed me.  My hard dick was a hindrance as I rinsed off my toothbrush and put some paste on it.  He moved behind me, wrapped his arms around my sides, kissed at my neck.  I looked at him in the mirror as I stuck the brush in my mouth.  He took his own brush, rinsed it off, and put some paste on it without moving from behind me. 

We brushed and smiled at each other for a long time until we were both done brushing our teeth.  I rinsed out my mouth.  He did the same.  That’s when he moved us to the shower stall and he stripped out of his clothes as I adjusted the water temperature and pressure. 

Despite seeing him naked so many times I loved to watch him undress.  I loved the way his dick bounced and swung as he stepped out of his boxers, the way it settled over his testicles.  I got inside first and he stepped in behind me.  We waited until the water covered nearly every part of our bodies before we started to wash each other.  Our hands ran over each other.  We touched every mound, length of skin, and every crevice until we felt brand new and that all of the grime had been washed away.  I was ready for anything as he pulled me from the shower and we dried ourselves off.  I wanted to drop to my knees right there but he stopped me, then dragged me to the bed.  He pulled me onto his chest as he sat, then fell backwards.

Our dicks pressed together I grabbed hold of the sheet on either side of him as I struggled to stay atop him properly to keep kissing.  He broke off the kiss and let out a little laugh as his hands went to my arm pits.  He rolled me over onto my back.  His larger body pressed down on me for a moment before he moved us up the bed so that our entire bodies were on it easily.  He reached down to my ass, brushed over the sensitive, bruised skin as he made his way to my hole.  I felt him stick the first digit of his finger inside.  It felt like he had unlocked me. 

A person doesn’t normally realize how much tension is there, how much stress is relieved by just a simple penetration.  It wasn’t the first time I felt that relief, but being with him was the first time I truly felt I was safe.  He kissed at my neck, worked his way down between my pecs, over my abs, through my pubic hair, but stopped just before my dick.  I opened my eyes to look down just as I felt his tongue touch me there.  I watched as he ran his tongue back up my body, all the way to my chin.  I rolled my head back.  He continued to kiss at my neck. 

I slid my feet to my butt sticking my knees in the air.  I opened myself to him and I felt his fingers grope at my thighs, the crevice between my legs, the bottom of my cheeks.  He teased me with his finger tips as I felt his teeth sink into my skin.  He sucked at my flesh.  I knew he was giving me a hickey and I thought to stop him before the pain became pleasure.  His hands at the backs of my knees, his hard dick rubbed at my ass, slimed my hole as he moved to a second spot on my neck. 

Another flash of pain, then the surrender to pleasure as he sucked at me until he was sure he had left a mark.  His wet lips and tongue moved down to my chest, first the right nipple.  His dick still teasing at my puckered hole.  He worked my nipple into a hard point, then moved to the other.  I thought for a moment he was done with the first one until I felt his fingers there, clumsy at first, then I felt his thumb and forefinger take hold.  He twisted and pulled until I let out a moan, then he stopped and his hands left my body.

He pushed himself up, his hard dick poked up along mine.  I reached down and took hold of his and mine in one hand, pressed them together so I could really compare them.  He took hold of both my nipples, twisted them until he got another moan from me.  I looked up to him.  His sweaty, muscled form was clear to me in the bedroom light.  I loved the look of his muscles on his chest, his neck, his arms.  He had a five o’clock shadow.  His hair was slightly messy. 

There was a familiar pop of a lid, a bottle of lubricant.  He squirted it on his hands, on his dick, into the crack of my ass.  He worked his dick with one hand as the fingers of his other hand pushed inside of me.  I reached up for him, barely touched his skin when he took hold of my wrists, pushed them up next to my head where he pinned them.  He had only opened me a little.  I knew the lube would help.  But I was still anxious as he pressed into me.

The head of his dick felt bigger than previous times as I tried to relax, push out, and let him inside.  He pressed slowly, wider and wider, impossibly long, until I felt him.  His slick hands still on my wrists he lowered his head to my neck.  I could smell the sweat of his body and the shampoo we both used.  He pulled out slowly, pushed back inside of me.  He was in two places at once.  I was in two places at once.  He worked in short motions until he could take longer strokes, faster and harder.  My own dick was still hard as if it was wired to my prostate. 

When he tickled me inside the pulses ran through my dick and it felt like I could give off an electric shock to anyone who touched it.  It was the center of all sensation.  The feeling traveled to my toes and I curled them instinctively, balled my fists too.  I could feel the cool air on my chest, my nipples.  There was the musky smell of his arm pits.  His hairy thighs pressed against mine.  He was moving the bed as he rocked into me.  I heard the steady knock of the head board against the wall and I had to laugh.

“What is it?” he asked.

“The head board, can’t you hear it?”

He laughed into my chest as he continued the motion.  His testicles slapped at me with the same rhythm.  I could hear the squish of our flesh. 

“Fuck me,” I said.

“Do you like it?  Do you want to see if we can knock down the wall?”

He let go of my wrists to get better leverage so I reached for his body, dug my fingers into his back where I felt sweat, muscle, the shape of bone.

“I want you to wake the neighbors,” I said.

He got faster and harder as my hole had loosened.  He pounded at me.  We kissed and he went deep as if he had pushed all of the way through my body.  I orgasmed right then, ejaculate shot up to my face, my chin, and my neck.  He took a few more thrusts and then just as he had his orgasm deep inside of me I ran my fingers down his back unsure just how deep I had cut him, if at all.

“That was good,” he said.

“You were fantastic,” I replied.

He lay his head against me as I felt him deflate inside of me until he slipped out as he sat between my knees.  I took hold of his hands, moved them to my chest just wanting to keep that bond between us.  He tickled me a little before he moved to lay beside me.  I rolled onto my side and we kissed a little until we recovered.

When we did it strangely became clinical as we stripped off the sheets.  I went to the bathroom as he carried them to the laundry room.  Moments later he joined me in the shower.  He touched the spots on my neck.  I looked over his back.  We laughed at what we had done to each other, laughed at the site of us in the mirror when we dried off.  We were exhausted.  Our limp dicks were defeated in the best way.  We barely got new sheets on the bed before we fell asleep in each other’s arms.

The Brat Ch 02 Pt 2 - Birthday Swats

That night was uneventful as we both felt tired and stuffed after dinner.  After the day we had together it felt like enough to just be able to get into bed with him, tug at his dick a little, and then fall asleep in his arms.  The following days were full of work, school, and only a few orgasms so by my birthday I was feeling pretty horny.  We met Ethan outside a French restaurant downtown.  We stood around Mr. Grant’s car in the parking lot.  I had told him to wear his best shirt and tie.  I was pleased when I saw him and the gift in his hands.  I couldn’t help but notice the curve of his ass.

“This is for you,” he said.

“Of course,” I said taking the gift.

“But you should open it later.”

“Right, besides Mr. Grant said he had something for me at home too.”

I gave a mischievous look to Mr. Grant who only nodded before he unlocked his car and took the present from me.  He set it in the backseat, closed the door, and locked the car with his remote.  It felt so good to be standing there with them, to know we had this little secret between us. 

The restaurant was up scale.  Ethan and I both deferred to Mr. Grant who made the recommendations and ultimately ordered for us along with a bottle of wine.  The conversation was easy as I let them catch up even though I knew everything about what each of them had been doing.  When the waiter brought the wine we toasted to my twenty-first birthday.  I was instantly reminded of the spanking I had asked for and I winced a little as our glasses touched together.  We made small talk after the toast and when the food arrived we fell silent for a long time, offering only a few compliments as we ate.  The lull was finally broken as we got close to being done with our entrees.

“Are we going out to a bar?” Ethan asked.

“Yeah of course,” I said.

“We have plenty of time,” Mr. Grant said.

“It’s not that, it’s just that I don’t think I’m dressed for it.  I can’t wear this.  Can I?”

“You’ll borrow something from me,” I said.

That seemed to settle any confusion.  We skipped dessert.  In the car I sat in the passenger seat, Ethan was in the back.  Mr. Grant drove with a familiar, steady hand.  It was dark out, the only light was from the dashboard and passing street lights.  I was about to pull out my phone to check for messages, maybe play a game, when Ethan handed his present up to me.  I took hold of it, placed it on my lap.

“Can I?” I asked.

“Why not?” Ethan asked.

“I don’t know.”

I looked to Mr. Grant expecting him to offer some advice, some recommendation, about the proper thing to do, but he didn’t.  I tore into the wrapping, pulled it from an oblong box.  I picked up the lid, let it drop between my knees.

“What is it?” Mr. grant asked.

“I don’t know,”I said.

“Take it out,” Ethan said.

I probed inside to feel a wooden, flat surface that had indentations and marks in it.  It felt like the indentations should make letters, but nothing I was familiar with so I looked back to Ethan hoping he would offer some answer but he didn’t.  That’s when my fingers reached the tapered bottom, ran over the handle with a ribbed grip.

“Oh my fucking god!  Is this--”

“A real frat paddle,” Ethan said.

“Just what every boy wants for his birthday.  How’d you get it?”

“Well,” Ethan said.  “It was by sort of dubious means.”

He sat back and I looked to him.  I wanted to hear the story.  He waved me away and said he’d tell me another time, but asked if I’d like to try it. 

“I haven’t had my birthday spanking,” I said.

“It stings pretty bad,” Ethan said.

“You’ve tried it?  You didn’t tell me.”

“I wanted it to be a surprise.”

I turned the paddle in my hands, felt the weight of it.  I toyed with it for the rest of the drive as I tried to imagine some scenario where Ethan might steal or otherwise come upon a Greek paddle but I couldn’t think of one. 

When we got home I placed it back in the box, unbuckled my seat belt and got out of the car feeling as if I was carrying something nefarious with me.  I was the first one at the door and the first one inside.  I headed to the room I shared with Mr. Grant to get a change of clothes for myself and Ethan.  I was surprised when they both followed after me.

“Let’s get the spanking out of the way,” Mr. Grant said.

“Right now?” I asked.

Ethan grinned at me.  I thought it might happen after we got back, when I was drunk and it wouldn’t feel as bad, but then I remembered Mr. Grant’s rule about not mixing alcohol and spanking.  I was ready to do it, though I felt a little self-conscious because Ethan was there as well and I hadn’t really been spanked in front of him, anyone.  He had been spanked in front of me and it had been intensely erotic.

“Okay,” I said.

“Do I get to stay?” Ethan asked.

“Of course,” I replied.

“What kind of spanks do you want?” Mr. Grant asked.

“How many are there?”

“Your age plus one or two, sometimes the spanker even spells out Happy Birthday,” Ethan said.

“Well, I’m glad I’m turning 21 instead of 60,” I said.

They both laughed at me for a moment before getting serious.  I looked from one to the other as they studied me.  I didn’t want to be a chicken, but I didn’t want to walk funny the rest of the night either.

“Briefs,” I said, “with the paddle in the kitchen.”

Ethan smirked at my suggestion.  Mr. Grant nodded, took the box from me and walked out of the room.  Ethan turned on his heels.  I followed after them, stopped in the doorway.  Mr. Grant set the box down on the small kitchen table, opened it, and took out the paddle.  It looked more intimidating in the light as I could see the insignia, the length and the width.  He swung a few times to feel the weight of it, gauging the amount of force needed.  He motioned for me to move to him so I did, positioned myself just where I thought I needed to be.  I looked back to Ethan who stroked his chin to try help keep himself from laughing.

“Assume the position,” Mr. Grant said.

I turned away from them, opened my pants, and bent over exposing my brief clad ass, sure that they had a good view of my cheeks.

“Don’t worry, these aren’t punishment spankings.  They’re celebratory.”

It was little comfort.  The first crack felt a little weak so I knew he was holding back.  The pain didn’t linger.  The second one came with a little more force but it wasn’t bad, just hurt a little.  He got to ten and Ethan started to count out loud.  He got to fifteen and I started to count along with gritted teeth. 

At twenty I was glad it was almost over but then I heard him say to stay in position as I needed, “one to grow on”, so I balled my fist.  He whacked me for twenty-one, and then again for that extra boost.  I shook my head and pushed myself up, turned and reached to my ass, rubbed at the warm flesh.  Mr. Grant looked over the paddle, tested it again.  Ethan smirked a little.  I tried to see if he had an erection at all but I couldn’t see.  There was only one thing left to do.

“How about you try a few licks?” I asked Ethan.

“What?  Me?”

I nodded.

“Okay,” he said, “but just a few.  Mr. Grant can give them if he wants.”

I was a little disappointed that he asked for Mr. Grant instead of me but I realized he knew Mr. Grant might be easier, a little more judicious because I wanted just a little bit of vengeance for giving me the thing.  I stepped aside and motioned for him to take my place.  He moved to the table and bent over.

“Oh no, it has to be either underwear or bare,” I said.

Mr. Grant looked to me with a raised eyebrow.  Ethan complied though, quickly pulled his pants and his underwear down to show a bruised, slightly beaten ass.

“Just when did you get this paddle?” I asked.

“A few days ago,” Ethan answered. 

Mr. Grant stepped into place and I moved back to the doorway to get a nice view.  I watched Mr. Grant measure first, slightly touching Ethan’s round cheek, before he struck.  One, two, three, four, and five, then it was over.  Ethan howled at the last one before he got up, rubbed at his ass.

I laughed a little at him before I moved to behind his back, took him by the arm and said we should go get changed.  He hobbled a little so I gave him a quick slap on his still bare bottom to get him moving.  He stepped a little faster as we headed to the bedroom. 

Once we were there I noticed he had one hand down over his crotch and I realized the slow motion was because of him trying to hide an erection and not because of the pain.  He looked away from me embarrassed.  I shook it off and went to the drawers where I pulled out jeans and shirts, tossed them on the bed.  I kept my favorite for myself.  He looked them over but somehow being there with him reminded me of a locker room so I just stripped down to my underwear. 

When he saw I wasn’t being bashful he began to undress.  He got down to his boxers easily and it gave me an idea.  I asked him if he’d like to try a pair of briefs.  He shook his head at first so I teased him a little.  Finally he pulled off his boxers and tossed them at me.  They hit me right in the face so I laughed back as I tossed them to the floor.  I pulled out two clean pair of briefs.  I tossed one back to him and kept the other for myself.  He picked up the fabric and looked it over.

“It’s simple,” I said.

“I know how underwear works.  It’s just, don’t you feel kind of vulnerable in them?  They aren’t very big.”

“Not your size?” I asked.

“A little small, but really I mean, I don’t know.”

“Don’t you think I look good?”

He laughed it off.  I dropped mine to my ankles.

“Now that’s a nice sight,” Mr. Grant said from the door.

We looked to him, then to each other’s bare, red butts.  We let out a laugh, moved closer, hip to hip.  I put my arm around his waist and he slipped his over my shoulder.  I looked down at Ethan’s dick and felt my own beginning to stiffen.  We looked back to Mr. Grant who only shook his head.

“Take a picture,” I said.

“Yeah,” Ethan added.

“Really?” he asked.

We agreed and a moment later Mr. Grant pulled out his phone and took a picture of us hip to hip with our asses on display.

The Brat Ch 01 - The Confession

Dear Reader,
I had to make some changes to Chapter 01 as I realized the premise Shane's misbehavior needed some scenes and that the ultimatum made more sense after another element I wanted to include. This is the new Chapter 01, which is more character background than a spanking good time, but you can trust that there will be punishment for bad behavior.
Best,
Bryan

Once you start living with someone, like I had with Mr. Grant, it is easy to fall into old habits.  This was especially true when I bought a new video game system and flat screen television and put them in the guest room.  I had little else to spend my money from work on so I decided on an impulse to get something for myself.  It was easy to play a game for hours at a time in the morning and between classes and work.  I kept up my homework as usual for my new classes but when I didn’t have an important responsibility, when Mr. Grant wasn’t home, I played my games.  It was even better when Ethan was on at the same time.  We chatted a little as we played but mostly we talked strategy. 

Ethan didn’t ask for another session with Mr. Grant and I didn’t bring it up.  He told me about guys he met and that none of them seemed to be into spanking.  He said most of them were too superficial.  He said he liked the idea of someone being athletic, even a little self-centered, but when they started getting judgmental then he had a problem.  Our conversations made me think about my own experiences ‘dating’ and how Tucker had been my ‘fuck-buddy’ but I didn’t miss it. 

Being single, trying to find a new guy every night, hoping one of them would mean something all felt so desperate.  I liked the idea of being with someone, having a home, a warm body to cling to in bed, and the feeling of knowing someone would be there for me.

Mr. Grant seemed to take little notice of my new distraction.  He had been a little different since we got back from Las Vegas.  He reprimanded me, gave me a few corrective smacks on the ass, but we hadn’t had an intense session like the ones we had before and we didn’t talk about Ethan.  We did have sex on a regular basis though, usually after work.  It was the perfect release when we got home and it helped us both get to sleep easier.

It was an ordinary Monday.  We ate breakfast and made small talk.  We showered together, fooled around a little under the water and I watched him get ready for the day.  I walked him to the door, even gave him a peck on the cheek before I went to the couch where I thought about turning on the television before I thought to make sure there were no chores to do.  I was reading over the list when there was a knock at the door.  I was still in my underwear but somehow, for some reason, I didn’t think anything about it as I went to answer the door. 

Somehow I had expected Mr. Grant to be there, maybe he had forgotten his keys.  It wasn’t until I got to the door that I noticed my undressed state so I opened it partially to cover myself in some way.  It could have been a meter reader, the mail man, or even a church group and I wouldn’t have cared.  I was horrified to see it was my mother.  She smiled at me and looked around a little, glanced over my shoulder before she looked me in the eye and cleared her throat.  She smelled of an obnoxious floral perfume that she always wore and was dressed for work. 

Right then my white briefs felt even more ridiculous even though I used to wear boxers around the house regularly when I lived there.  I thought about closing the door on her, just panic and run away, but there was no where to run to and I knew she would knock again.  She had caught me.  I was in a precarious situation and she had definite intent but I thought we might be able to talk it out.

“Good morning,” I said.

“Good morning,” she replied.

I thought for a moment she would speak but instead she let the uncomfortable silence hang in the air.  I was used to her doing this so I didn’t panic.  I just looked her in the eye as I feigned sleepiness.  But she didn’t speak, didn’t even budge.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Your birthday is coming up and since you’ve been spending so much time over here I thought I would stop by and see how you’re going to celebrate.”

“For my birthday, I don’t know.  I don’t think we had any specific plans.  I haven’t really mentioned it.  I’m not even sure if he knows it’s coming up.  Why?”

“Well, we were planning on getting you a gift and maybe having some kind of part but we weren’t sure if you might want to have it over here, or well, at home.  We’d like it if you came over to visit us, maybe we can get a cake.  I’m not saying you have to spend all day with us but we hardly see you anymore.”

I sighed.  It was another one of her guilt trips partially based in reality.  I should have felt bad about not spending time with them but I was also moving on with my life.  They showed so little interest any other time, any other day. 

“I’ll have to think about it but sure, I can come over.”

“I was hoping to get something a little more certain than that.  Can I come inside?”

The door between us, my state of undress, all felt like minor things.  She had come over for something else, something important, and yet I couldn’t help but feel a little angry.  She was ruining my good time.  I opened the door and invited her inside as I walked away back to the bedroom where I planned to get some pants.  She followed after me.  I didn’t expect her to keep after me like that.  I didn’t bother to close the door before I picked up a pair of jeans from the bed and began to pull them up my legs. 

“What’s that mark on your thigh?” she asked.

I zipped up my jeans and picked up a shirt, careful to determine the front from the back before I pulled it over my head, then down over my chest, adjusted it about my waist so it felt even.  I didn’t want to tell her anything and yet I knew she wouldn’t leave me alone.  I knew she would keep after me.  She was like a dog with a bone.

“It’s nothing mom,” I said.

It wasn’t humiliation but anger that I felt.  She had come over here, barged into the house, and now she was interfering with my life when before it meant so little to her.  Who was she to criticize when she barely said anything before?  I didn’t want to tell her about the spanking.  It felt bad enough that she knew I was gay.  How do you come out as kinky?

“That looked like bruising.  How did you get that?  Does he hit you?  Is that what he does?  Tell me and I’ll call the police.”

“He doesn’t hit me mom.  He spanks me.”

“What do you mean he spanks you?”

“It’s part of the life we live.  It’s part of our relationship.”

“What is that supposed to mean?  You mean it’s sexual.”

I sighed.  Here I was in my boyfriend’s house being interrogated about my sex life.  My face warmed and I clenched my hands together just to keep from grabbing at something, breaking something.  I wanted her out.  I wanted to scare her.  I wanted her to run.  It felt impossibly difficult just to stand there with her staring at me.

“Yes mom, I like to be spanked,” I said.  “Then we have sex.”

That’s when she let out a groan of disgust and walked away.  I didn’t have to break anything after all just tell her.  I looked to where she stood and listened as she walked out of the house.  It felt like a victory.  It felt like a loss.  She would tell my father.  The stereotypical response would be that he’d attack Mr. Grant, possibly have him arrested, but not my father, my father would invite me, us, to a therapy session, maybe at his office, probably over a cup of coffee.  He’d be casual about it, not try to imply that anything was wrong nor that he had any suspicions.  He’d treat, get me to talk, work his way into my comfort until he’d ask me and then he’d study me closely, look for some doubt, something to question.  He had done it before when my grandfather died.  We went to my favorite burger place, then he said it as I was eating.

My mother hadn’t been home when I got back from school.  I suspected, just because all of my friends parents were divorced that he was going to tell me they were getting a divorce.  I thought he’d ask me who I wanted to live with.

“I need to tell you something,” he said.

I had a few fries in my hand and was ready to dip them in ketchup.  I put them to my mouth as if carrying through with what I was going to do would make it all seem normal.  I looked at him.

“You’re grandfather died.  He had a heart attack while playing golf.  He was on the twelfth hole.”

I started to cry.  The ketchup tasted sour and acidic.  It wasn’t just my grandfather’s death but the feeling of having been caught in a trap.  It was the worst meal of my life.  I never felt the same about that burger place. 

That was how my father did things.  I knew that I would be walking through some dangerous territory.  They wouldn’t understand.  If I had to walk through it at all?  Part of me thought about just ignoring the whole thing, cutting them off if necessary, but I couldn’t imagine a life without them.  I couldn’t imagine that how I chose to live my life would be so terrible.  It all felt so frustrating and I knew it would take time to work out just what it meant so I decided to get on with my life. 
I finished getting ready with a spray of cologne and some deodorant under my arm pits and went about my day as usual.  I checked the kitchen to make sure everything was clean and put away, checked the bathroom, and the living room, finally I collected my bag, made sure my books I needed for the day were there as well as my laptop and set out for campus. 

It was an easy, familiar bus trip.  I started thinking about my morning and I had to laugh a little about it to myself.  The thought of my mother seeing me getting dressed and seeing the marks on my thighs was kind of amusing in a dark, sarcastic kind of way.  Like when something embarrassing happens on television, I thought.  Of course there is a big difference between life and television but the thought comforted me.  And by the time I got there I reasoned that I didn’t have it so bad because I lived with Mr. Grant now.  I had a job and money.  They might stop paying my tuition but I could figure something out, probably.  Besides having to drop out wouldn’t be so bad, I told myself.  I could finally get my dream job of being a go-go dancer and/or porn star. 

I got off the bus feeling better about the whole thing and it was far in the back of my mind by the time I got to the library.  Once there I found a quiet spot, took out my books, and began to study.  I didn’t seriously think about it again until I got to work that evening. 

Being a bus boy is a quiet job.  With the exception of a few words to coworkers and a few words to patrons there isn’t much that needs to be said if you’re paying attention.  In some ways the less said the better.  Of course it isn’t a job where I found I could really think too much either and I found myself making a few mistakes here and there, not really paying attention when people spoke to me.  By the end of the night I snapped at Rose when she started to confront me about not cleaning up a table as quickly as I could have.  She gave me this look and I considered whether I should start yelling or walk away.  I decided to walk away. 

By that time things had slowed down and I wasn’t surprised when Mr. Grant came out to the alleyway where I leaned against the brick wall wishing I had a cigarette.  He moved to me quietly.  I could tell he was serious but he was also being gentle.  I admired that quality about him. 

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“Nothing,” I replied.

It was my defense response.  It usually worked with my parents.  Sometimes it meant I didn’t want to talk at the moment but would later, but as I got older it just meant I wanted them to go away.  He shifted on his feet, hands in his pockets, I knew he raised an eyebrow or two of curiosity at me.

“You’ve been on edge all night,” he said.

“You noticed?”

“Of course I did, so did everybody else.  It’s been little things but still, the way you snapped at Rose in there was uncalled for and I want to know what’s going on.  Is it something to do with school?”

“I’m sorry,” I said.  “It’s nothing.”

“Hey, don’t lie to me.  You can trust me.”

Somehow saying it to him felt even more humiliating than the actual incident.  His opinion mattered to me and I wasn’t sure what he would say about how I had acted or what I thought about it.  I also worried he might be embarrassed that she knew my secret, our secret, now and that he might be afraid.  He might worry she would turn him into the police for abuse or confront him, maybe even kill him.  No, not kill him, not my mother, but still it wasn’t good.  I didn’t want to cause him pain.  And yet as I stood there in that darkened alley that felt so much like a confessional I felt like just saying it.  He was a strong man and I thought he might know just the right thing to do, just the right thing to say.

“My mother came over today and she wanted to know what I was doing for my birthday.  We started to talk and were being civil, but then she came in the house and I was getting dressed and she saw my bruises.”

“What happened?”

“She started asking me about it and asked if you hit me.  I told her you spanked me and it became this whole big thing.  She ran out of the house.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I mean I wish it was a practical joke but it’s not.”

“Did she do anything else?” he asked.

“Not yet,” I answered.

“Well, I’m sorry you had to deal with that.  Is there anything I can do?”

“Got a cigarette?” I asked.

“Nope,” he said.  “There isn’t much she can do.”

“I know, it’s just, I don’t know.  Everything was going so good.”

“It still is.”  He leaned to me, found my lips in the dark and kissed me briefly before he pulled away.  “But we need to get back in there.  We’ll talk about it after work.  Don’t worry about it.  You’re an adult and it’s your life.”

He started to move and I stopped him with one hand against his shoulder.  He paused and turned to me.  I couldn’t make out the details of his face.  I looked over his shoulder to the door that had remained closed, hoped no one was in the alley who could hear, who would care.

“This thing with my mother.  I know I didn’t do the right thing.  I know I was rude and everything but it wasn’t my fault,” I said.

“I know,” he replied before he started to step away.

“I don’t want you to spank me,” I said.

That caused him to stop and turn back to me.  He got close and for a moment I thought he was going to hug me and kiss me.  I could smell his breath and his cologne.

“I’m not going to spank you.  Not for this,” he said, “I’m not trying to hurt you.”

“Really?”

“Of course, I just wanted, I just want, to challenge you.  It’s not about control.  I don’t want to control you.  I want to help you and given the situation I know it was very difficult, but what you said to Rose is a different matter.  You need to control yourself.” 

“I’ll apologize,” I said.

He closed the distance between us and gave me a kiss on the lips. I pulled him into a deeper embrace, pushed my tongue into his mouth for a moment before he pulled away and let out a laugh.

“Let’s get inside before they think I’m sexually harassing you or that we left for the night.  I don’t want them misbehaving.”

He stepped aside and ushered me to the door where he playfully slapped me on the ass before I opened it.  I laughed it off and held the door for him.  The kitchen had a familiar warmth and I knew I was safe there.