Nature Pup (Kink Scenario)

12 Hr. Pup Play Scenario


I’d take you to a remote cabin with only trees around it. It’s evening and the sun is setting. I’d tell you to strip naked and go wait on the front porch while I go to the store to get supplies for the night. You’d go to the front door, naked and vulnerable. I’d drive away. Maybe you’d try the handle but find it’s locked. A window? Locked. It’s strange being out in the wilderness. What if someone comes along even out here?



As it gets darker you get more comfortable and settle on the porch with your back to the wall. You’d wait for a long time, not even thinking to play with yourself. You can hear the animals and smell nature. You have the urge to pee so you go the farthest corner of the porch and urinate onto a bush when you hear something, someone, walking in the trees.



I parked my car not too far away and hiked back to the cabin with a bag full of groceries, my equipment and toys are already there. But you don’t know that. 

You see a flashlight, the beam hits you in the eyes, goes down your body to your crotch as you cover it. You let out a nervous laugh and ask if it’s me. I move closer and you think about running but I tell you to stop and wait for me. You recognize my voice but it is little comfort as I get close.  I walk past you and to the front door.



I tell you to follow me but I close the door in your face. You hear some movement on the other side of the door.  Finally, I unlock the doggy door you failed to notice before and I kick it a little to give it motion as I turn on the inside lights. You have to get down on your knees and awkwardly enter head first. You peak inside and find an unexpected view of a cage. If you want inside then you have to crawl into the cage. I go about my business. Your ass is hanging out and you want to find out what else will happen so you enter slowly until you are face down in the cage.



Once you are entirely in I close the gate behind you and detach it from the door, lock the doggy door. I tell you we’ll use it later until you’re housebroken and maybe to go out and play.

From your cage you can see almost all of the cabin, but especially the kitchen as it occupies the far side of the space.  I’m not ignoring you, in face I look over frequently to make sure you are okay but I have things to do like cook.  You watch me as I prepare a salad by chopping up some lettuce, tomato, and cucumber, then shred some carrot and finally add bread crumbs.  Are you getting hungry? I ask.  You think to speak but stop yourself and let out a pitiful whine instead.  I smile to you.



After the salad I put some butter in a cast iron pan, not much to it until I pull out two thick cut steaks that I gently lay in the pan when it is hot enough.  The smell of cooking meat gets to you and another little whine.  I tell you it will be done soon and to have a seat so you put your butt down, head up, and put your fists out in front to hold you up.  I compliment you for being obedient.



It isn’t long until the steaks are done and I pour myself a glass of wine.  I like them medium rare.  I put them on hot plates and set them on the table, conspicuously close together, before I get you from the cage and lead you to where I am going to sit.  I give you a bowl of salad but no fork so you try your best to eat with just your mouth, but when it comes to the steak I take turns cutting a bite for myself and then a bite for you.  



Between bites you get impatient and let out a bark so I give you a warning look.  You know I won’t starve you but maybe if you keep acting like that you might have to be punished.  You pout a little to show me you recognize what you did wrong and I smile at you before giving you another bite.  It takes us a while to finish and when we do I send you back to the cage which you crawl back to as I clean up.  



When I’m done I call you back out of the cage and over to the couch where I strip out of my clothes and invite you up to lay beside me.  You lay your head in my crotch and I stroke your hair as I drink another glass of wine and smoke a cigar.  The smell of my dick is alluring so you roll over and begin to lick at the shaft.  It’s easy to get me excited and it’s not long before you begin to suckle on the head.  You work me easily until I climax in your mouth and you swallow it all down.

 

I rub the back of your head some more as you lay back down with your lips close to my balls.  You fall asleep easily.  I let you rest there for a while until I’m done with my cigar an wine and I wake you gently.  You get up enough to let me get to my feet.  I take the glass to the kitchen where I wash it out and empty the ash tray in the garbage.  



I signal for us to go to bed.  You get down from the couch easily but when you get to the bed you find a problem as it’s too high to crawl up from all fours.  You whine some more and I ask if you need help to which you wiggle your butt.  I take hold of you, pick you up from the floor and set you at the foot of the bed.  



The next morning I take you down to the creek where we both get in naked.  I clean you up first then  myself.  I surprise you with a chew toy that squeaks.  You bark and hop about trying to get me to play with you.  I tease you for a bit before I toss the toy into the water, you swim out and retrieve it easily.

We play like that for some time before you tire and I sit down on the bank to dry off in the early morning sun.  You snuggle against me and our wet, cool skin seems to meld together until we both fall asleep.  When you awake you nuzzle into my arm pit to get me up.  I smile and rub your head before I get to my feet and we walk back to the cabin where we share a small lunch.

After we finish I take you out to the porch to wait as I retrieve the car.  You come to the side of it and stand, dust off your knees and hands.  I have your clothes and you dress by the passenger side door.  You get into the car and spot yourself in the side mirror.  You realize you haven’t looked at yourself for a whole 12 hours.  You never saw yourself as a pup and now as you spot your five o’clock shadow you remember yourself as a handsome man and it’s like you are someone else, you were someone else.

Place Your Bets Pt. 1

After a three day weekend in Vegas the cross I wear around my neck and my wedding ring became the costume of a character I had always pretended to be.  I hadn’t been there previously and when I got the chance to travel there for work I was psyched to do it.  My wife thought it was nice they were trusting me with the opportunity and thought it could lead to a big promotion in my company.  I was wary of what I knew was ahead of me though. 

Men could get raunchy, and business men were the worst.  I had taken clients out to strip clubs and bars, got them laid but had always avoided cheating on my wife for the most part except when one stripper forced her tongue in my mouth once but then I got out of that pretty quickly.

Guys talk.  They brag about anything and everything they did and didn’t do.  I had learned the cadence and the vernacular to fit in any situation but I didn’t really mean it.  Even though I said all these things I thought of myself as being sexless and committed.

So three days would be hard but I had gotten through lots of situations before.  And really once I committed I wasn’t backing out.

It was a long drive from L.A. with my assistant and he had come prepared as he had been there before with his previous boss.  We loaded a rental car at my house with our bags, snacks and a cooler for the road. 

He was casual about the whole situation.   He kicked off his sandals as soon as he was in the passenger seat and reclined with a sleep mask and a family size bag of Cheetos that he rested in his lap.  He ate whatever he wanted but he was skinny.  And young, much younger than myself.  So capable at his job I wondered why he hadn’t been promoted.

We listened to Sirius radio half of the time until he grew bored and pulled his MP3 player from his pants pocket and told me he’d put on some tunes.  “Just hit shuffle,” he said.  I adjusted the cruise control and worked to plug in the player.  I hit shuffle and obnoxious rap began to play.  Stuff I wouldn’t really listen to but I couldn’t deny it sounded good.

Even if it was obnoxious it seemed appropriate and I went along just like with every other situation.  When we got to the city it was evening and the sun had begun to set.  My assistant, Brad, pulled off his sleep mask and sat up.  He grinned at the neon lights and said it was his favorite city in the whole wide world.  I asked him if he had been to very many cities of the world sarcastically and he shook his head at my cynicism and said that he had.  I was impressed.

He knew the place well enough that he gave me directions to the hotel.  When we got there he was quick to find someone to help with the luggage and told the valet just to park the car on the side because we would be back out in five.

Five what? I thought.  But it didn’t matter.  It was his show so I went with him to the counter where we checked in and then up to the room with the bagman behind us. 

When we got to the room he pushed open the door and began to turn on every light.  I walked in to find that he had gotten a suite for us.  But then I was instantly disappointed when I found there was only one bedroom then when I went in there I was shocked to find only one large master bed.

The bell hop right behind me smirked at my shock but when I turned on him he cleared his throat, setup the bags and held out his hand for a tip.  Brad had already begun to strip down and was in his underwear before I could get the money from my wallet.  In my anxiety I handed the man a five dollar bill.

The bellhop pulled the door closed and I looked back to Brad who stood at the window in a pair of briefs scratching at his side lazily.  He was as skinny as I thought and I could make out his ribs and spine easily.  One foot went up against his other calf to scratch at it and I could see the cleft of his buttocks easily.

He was my assistant but I was shocked by his brazen attitude and decided that I was still the boss so I told him to get dressed. 

“In a minute,” he said.  “Come here and look at this view.”

I walked to where he stood and was instantly taken with the view.

“Tonight we go out to have some fun in this city,” he said.  “Get dressed in your second best suit while I go shower.”  He dropped his underwear right there and walked away from me. 

I looked after him partially in shock but also a bit angry only to see his buttocks jiggle nicely as he walked.  A skinny man with a nice ass, I thought, such a weird sight. 

I looked around the room and suddenly became embarrassed about the way he treated it like a locker room.  It was too nice.  I was about to pick up everything when I thought it would make me look like his assistant instead of the other way around. 

His casual nudity and being inconsiderate was a new thing for him.  He was never like this at the office so I decided that when he got out of the shower I would talk with him.  My second best suit, I thought.  I went about unpacking all of my clothes and hung my jackets in the closet before I remembered there was only the one bed and a couch out in the main room to sleep on. 

Maybe we’d flip for the bed or else I could pull rank and make him sleep out there.  I finished unpacking and stopped to listen to see if he was still in the shower.  When I heard the water still running I decided it was the best time to change.  What kind of night did he have planned?
Gambling, drinking, and girls all came to mind.  I made quick work of putting on my second best suit and had time to check my hair in the room’s mirror before I heard the water stop. 

I remembered that the last time I saw him he was naked and not wanting him to think I was waiting around in the room to check him out or else see him naked I decided to head to the main room.  I looked over the amenities.  Five dollars just for a bottle of water!

I was reading the room service menu and looking out at the city when I saw his reflection in the window.  He had a hotel towel wrapped around his waist and his body was still partially wet.  His hair wasn’t dry.  He went to the mini bar and got two glasses and a bottle of Scotch that he brought over to me at the desk by the window.  He went back for ice and quickly poured two drinks.  I still had the menu in my hand and looked at him with suspicion as he handed me the glass of liquor.

“Sorry for being such a jerk but I just get so excited when I get here.  Don’t worry I’ll clean up before we leave because it’s always nice to come back to a clean room.”  He raised his glass and I was taken with his sincerity so we clinked glasses.  “Here’s to new times and fun.”

“To new times and fun,” I replied.

We each took a deep drink, then he went about the room, as he had said he would, cleaning up after himself.  He even took our glasses to the sink and put away the bottle.  He was taking so long that I turned on the television. 

Things were fine again until he stopped in front of the screen while I was watching the news report and pulled his towel off, then began to dry his hair, patted at the rest of his body.  I could see him from the side and make out his limp dick, a few inches flaccid, and his black pubic hair that gleamed with dew. 

I told myself it wasn’t gay to look.  I had checked out guys all the time and they checked me out too.  It was a guy thing ever since I was in high school to see what the competition was like.
It gave me comfort to know that there was this thing that God made different for everyone in length and girth when limp or hard as a rock.  And dicks didn’t look like the people they were attached to.  I knew many handsome men with small ones and average guys with big ones.  He slung the towel over his shoulder and walked from the room.  I saw his muscled ass and I rolled my eyes.

It didn’t take him long to get dressed after his little show.  By the time he was ready though I felt like I was being dragged along, though the feeling vanished when we got to the first bar in our own hotel.  We had a few drinks but the place wasn’t very busy so there weren’t many people around.  He looked like he was on a mission and I wasn’t surprised when he told me we were going somewhere else.  The second bar at the hotel next door was a little more lively with a karaoke machine and amateurs trying to sing their favorite tunes.  We only lasted a few drinks there before he said he was calling a taxi for us.  I tried to protest but his youth, his enthusiasm, was overwhelming.

That’s how we ended up at the bar that would change my life.  The place was crowded, a mix of heterosexual couples and gay men.  I thought it was a little odd at first for him to bring me here, especially when I saw the drag show, but then he gave me a drink and we found a table near a group of men and women.  I looked them over and figured there were at least a few women who might be heterosexual, especially when they took note of us, well Brad. 

“I signed you up next, the guy behind the bar said it wouldn’t be difficult to get you a dress and some makeup,” he said.

“Very funny,” I replied.  “A few more of these and I might just do it.”

I was feeling pretty drunk by the time I took another sip of my drink.  I knew I had to eat something so I looked around for a menu.  There wasn’t one.  Impulsively I got up from my seat and headed to the bar to ask the bartender.  He handed me a few bowls of snack food.  I wanted something more but took them anyway. 

When I got back to the table with Brad I almost walked past it because two other people were sitting there with him.  He motioned for me and I looked at him confused before I realized the place was crowded.  I moved to the empty chair and sat with them.  Brad leaned close to me, his lips at my ear.

“These are my friends Tucker and Pete,” he said.  “They just stopped by for a drink.  Do you mind?”

I looked to Tucker and Pete who seemed preoccupied with the show.  They looked harmless.  Boy, was I wrong.  They talked with Brad and drank.  I started eating my snacks.  I felt like a glutton and selfish so I offered them to the table.  Brad slid my drink to me.

“Finish this and I’ll get you another,” he said.

I picked up my drink, looked over the amount inside, braved myself to what I would feel, and downed it.  Brad left for the bar and I looked to the two men at my table.  They looked back to me and for a moment I thought one of them was going to speak but they didn’t.  I was thankful when Brad returned and broke the tension.

Despite my snacks the next drink began to hit me hard, or else it was all the ones before catching up with me.  I asked Brad if we could leave and he said we could.  He told Tucker and Pete, both of whom looked disappointed and whispered something back to him. 

“Do you mind if they come back for a drink?”

I just wanted out of there and anything sounded good as long as it meant I was getting to my feet and back to my room, back to my bed.

“It’s fine,” I said.  “Let’s get out of here.”

I looked around at the table as they finished their drinks, then began to get up.  I thought about sobering up so I decided to down my last drink.  I got my feet and started to follow after them.  I was okay until they stopped and I ran into Brad.  He laughed me off, put my arm around his shoulder.  He escorted me out to the parking lot where Tucker said he had a car.  Brad led me to the backdoor and helped me inside before going around to the other side.  He helped me buckle my seat belt before I stretched my head back against the rest.  Tucker seemed to drive fast, hug the curves.  I let out a moan and closed my eyes. 

It wasn’t really sleep and when they pulled up to the hotel I sat up and opened my eyes, smiled at the sight.  When I struggled with the buckle Brad released it for me.  I got out slowly, closed the door and leaned against it.  Tucker handed over the keys to the valet and Pete looked to me with concern.

“I’m alright,” I said.

“Let me help you,” he replied.

I started to push away from the car but realized I didn’t feel good.  Pete and Brad on either side of me moved in and took hold of my arms, wrapped them over their shoulders.  I didn’t resist as they walked me from the car and into the hotel.  I hung my head though, afraid I would see anyone and hoped no one would recognize me.  They got me into the elevator and Tucker stepped in with us, pressed the button for my floor.  The elevator was quick but I managed to hold myself together and not get sick.  It was a slow walk to our room.  Brad let us in with a key.  They led me to the bed where I tried to sit but they insisted I lay on my stomach.

Hours later I awoke to the sound of the television and the guys talking in whispered voices.  I rolled onto my back, my dick stuck out against in my pants as I realized I had to piss.  Luckily, I thought, I was in the shadows.  I looked to them in the corner of the room around a small table.  They seemed to notice I was awake but I didn’t want them to really notice me, notice my erection, so I slid to the bed and put my feet over the side.  I looked to the clock and noticed it was two o’clock in the morning.  I shook off the annoyance and headed to the bathroom once my erection subsided. 

After I pissed I washed my face with some water and dried off, combed my hair and looked myself over in the mirror.  I looked tired but I didn’t feel like sleeping.  I hadn’t drank like that since college and I remembered whenever I did that I only slept a few hours to let the alcohol wear off.  I went back out to the room and started to walk towards the guys when I noticed something peculiar on the floor.  It was clothes.

There were pants, socks, and shoes.  I looked up the table where I realized Brad was down to his undershirt while Pete and Tucker were probably missing some pants.  Why the pants before the shirts?  I shook off the thought and went to them.  They looked up to me and I smiled back.

“How are you feeling?” Brad asked.

“Fine,” I said.  “Not really, I’m not used to this.”

“Get yourself a drink at the bar,” Pete said.

“That’s a good idea,” I replied before I headed to the mini-bar.

“Want in on the next game?” Tucker asked.

I rolled my eyes at the thought, but to be polite I asked what they were playing.

“Strip poker,” Pete said.

I nodded to myself at the obvious answer as I poured myself a drink.  I downed it and picked up a second bottle, headed back to the table with my glass in the other hand.  There was an empty chair so I took it.  They each looked at their cards before they looked at me or around the room.  I laughed nervously before I emptied the second bottle into my glass.

“Read ‘em and weep,” Brad said before he laid down his cards.

The other two moaned in frustration as they threw their cards on the table in defeat, then they both took off their shirts and tossed them out onto the floor far from the game.  I laughed a little at them and started to feel confident.  If I joined now I would clearly have an advantage. 

“Well?” Pete asked.

“I don’t know,” I said.

Brad collected the cards and started to shuffle them.  I could see by the way he manipulated them that he was a little drunk.  They were all down to their undershirts and underwear.  It could be easy to beat them.  I shook my head a little to try and get myself to stop from joining but an impulse rose up from my stomach.  A quick game, they’d lose and then be gone, I told myself before I started to speak.

“Sure, I’ll play a hand or two, but I’m not taking anything off to make it even.  I start with all of my clothes.”

“No problem,” Tucker said.

The other guys agreed and Brad dealt the cards.  I had a pair of fives so I decided to stick it out.  I lost the first hand to Tucker who had a pair of Kings.  I slipped off my shoes but actually relaxed when I got them off.  The games slowed down after that as we all talked and joked with each other.  Tucker lost his socks, Pete lost his undershirt, and eventually Brad lost his as well, but in turn I lost articles of clothing as well. 

In just a few rounds I was down to my underwear and undershirt.  Unlike them I took off my socks and shirt first, then my pants.  It was kind of embarrassing to lose them but after I sat down Pete poured me another drink. 

“Looks like the last bottle,” he said.

“No problem, I got something in my suitcase,” Brad said.

He got up from the table.  I could see he had on white briefs. He crossed the room to his suitcase.  The movement caught my attention and in my drunken stupor I followed him with more than my eyes.  He had a great ass, I thought.  I could feel myself getting a little excited about the prospect of seeing him naked.  That’s when I realized I had relaxed in my chair and my knees were far apart, my hard dick poked out of my underwear.

When he got back and the guys seemed distracted by pouring drinks I sat up, put my knees together and tucked my dick between my thighs with one hand.  I thought no one noticed and decided to join them in another drink.  Why not?  Now we’re playing for serious stakes, I thought. 

Tucker dealt the cards and I felt renewed confidence as I had two Kings and Jack.  Pete folded easily.  Tucker wasn’t far behind him.  It came down to me and Brad.  I wanted it all.  I wanted everything to be decided.

“I’m all in,” I said.

“I just have my underwear,” he said.

“Sounds like you need to add something then,” Pete said.

I looked at the two of them who laughed and leaned onto the table.

“What could you add?” Tucker said.

“Something important,” Pete said.

“What do you think?” Brad asked.

He leaned forward into the light and I could see his small, muscled chest clearly.  He had perfect nipples, just the right amount of development.  I wanted to give them a twist.  My dick hardened between my thighs.  It reminded me of the hazing at a fraternity, just some good, nasty guy fun, but then I worried it would be too much.  Would they all think I’m a pervert?

“I say you have to give us a little dance,” Tucker said.

“I nice little strip tease,” Pete said.

I thought my face went red at the suggestion so I leaned back a little, made sure my dick was secure especially because it felt a little slick.  I coughed and looked around the room hoping some other idea would occur to me.  Something occurred to me.

“How about a wedgie?” I asked.

The guys laughed.  Tucker clapped me in the shoulder and said, “now he’s getting into it.”

“I don’t know,” Brad said.

“It’s a wedgie,” Pete added.

“How about it?” Tucker asked.

“I guess.” 

Brad looked over at me.  How could I have come up with such an idea?  Why did I want to humiliate him?  A wedgie didn’t sound worse than a strip tease.  Lots of guys get wedgies for lots of different reasons. 

“There we go,” Tucker said.

“I don’t know though.  We’re talking about all his clothes versus a wedgie,” Pete said.  I could tell he was trying to instigate something.  “How about the loser gets a wedgie?”
I shook my head.

“Come on,” Tucker said.  “It’s a good thing to bet.”

I liked the idea of giving him a wedgie better than getting one.  I shook my head again and sat back.  Both Tucker and Pete looked at me, kept at me.  Brad covered his eyes and I started to think I really had him.  He didn’t have the cards.  I sat back up.

“I’ll still do the dance,” Brad said.

“That’s good,” Pete said.

“Now it’s getting good.”

“Well?” Brad asked.

“Okay,” I replied, “you have to dance for all of us though.”

Brad nodded his head.  Pete and Tucker sat back laughing, adjusted themselves, took a drink.  I had another myself.  Brad did too.

“We should make this really good though.  A strip dance doesn’t sound too bad now with a wedgie on the line.”

“Guys,” I said.

“No, come on, you guys are going to be here all weekend.  We should make this good,” Tucker said. 

“Come on guys,” Brad said.

“Oh, he’s getting nervous,” Pete laughed.  He looked to me.  “How about you?  Are you feeling nervous?  Do you think you have the cards?”

I looked at my hand, then up to the guys and smiled.

“He’s got it,” Tucker said.

“How about you?” Pete asked as he looked to Brad.

Brad shifted in his seat, then looked at his cards.  He smiled back at them, looked to me. 

“What about the loser has to do whatever the winner wants for the weekend?” Tucker asked.  “It’ll be fun.  Winner doesn’t have to worry about chores.”

I shook my head.  Brad laughed a little.

“Ew, this is good,” Pete said.  “I wish I still was in the game.”

Was this some kind of setup?  Were they trying to see if I was some kind of pervert who got off on humiliating someone?  After all they all knew each other. 

“Guys, I think this is going too far,” I said.

“A weekend is too much,” Brad said.

“How about a day?” Pete asked.  “Maybe one night.”

“One day,” Brad said.

“Come on guys,” I pleaded.

It was too much.  I wanted it.  I wanted him.  The odds were high but I was confident I had the better hand and I was eager to gain something on Brad ever since I shook his hand.  I could get my revenge on him.  He’d have to strip down in front of me and the other guys, then he’d have to do whatever I wanted.  I wouldn’t have to lift a finger the rest of the weekend.  I’d could teach him a thing or two.  He’d have to respect me.  He’d respect me after this weekend.

“Deal,” Brad said before he laid down his cards.

For a moment I worried that I’d lost.  He had such confidence, but then I leaned in to set my cards down and quickly recognized I had the better hand.  I laid down my cards and the guys laughed as they looked to Brad who covered his face with his hands.  He turned away from us and let out a moan of agony.

Controller Cords (excerpt) First Kiss

The alcohol had fully hit me.  I felt numb.  I reached up and touched my face.  It was numb.  I laughed and leaned back and as I felt my balance shift I decided to go with it and fall to the floor.  I pressed my face to the floor but I couldn’t feel it.

“My face is numb,” I said.

I repeated it again and again until he came into the room.  I looked up to him.

“My face is numb,” I said.

It felt just like when I had a cavity filled by the dentist only this was my whole face.

“You’re drunk,” he said.  “Come on get up.”

He got behind me and tried to lift me from the ground but even my light body was too much for him. 

“Work with me here,” he said.

I thought to say something to him but didn’t.  I am just as sure now as I was then that it was really clever but it was lost somewhere inside my brain.  Instead I helped him get me up from the floor but I put too much weight on him and we fell back onto the couch.  I landed right in his lap with his arms around me.

It felt good.  I felt safe.  His body and my body were almost one.  I could feel his chest against my back, my hair in his face, his lips close to my neck.

“Get off me you’re giving me a chubby,” he said.

I felt along his arms with my fingers, gripped at the backs of his hands until our fingers were laced together. 

“No,” I said.

He pulled my arms up and around my chest but they were really his hands that touched me, his fingertips that pressed into me.  I was delighted at the feeling.

“Are you gay?” he asked.

I nodded.  And for a moment I thought I had crossed a line that I would regret but then I felt his breath on my skin.

“Say it,” he said.

I held my breath as I felt his warmth.  I closed my eyes.  I could hear the carbon bubbles in the soda, feel the light.

“I’m gay,” I said.

“Me too,” he said.  “I’m gay.”

We sat like that for a long time until there was a knock on the door and he said it was the delivery man so I got off his lap and sat next to him on the couch as he called out he’d be there then rallied himself, counted the cash a second time, and went to the door.

My dick was stiff but losing feeling.  I could feel come leaking into my underwear and against my thigh.  I wanted to reach in and jerk it, get off before he came back, hell even if he came back we were both gay.

He entered the room with the food.

“Let’s sit at the table,” he said.

I shook my head.

“Fine,” he said.  He set the boxes down on the coffee table.

“Get me a drink,” I said.

“Just soda this time, no more alcohol, you’ve had too much.”

“Okay dad,” I said sarcastically.

“Don’t make me spank you,” he said.

He walked away, got a can of cola from the refrigerator for me, then poured himself a mixed drink.  I watched as he took a large swallow then looked to the food.  I didn’t feel like eating.

“Eat,” he said.  “Trust me.”

I decided to trust him and started to eat.  I downed my first slice easily and by the third I was feeling like I was on the beginning of a recovery.  My mind didn’t clear completely but I felt more like myself as we ate until finally I felt like I could speak in whole sentences.

“Man that is some crazy shit,” I said.  “Did we just come out to each other?”

He nodded.

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“Shut up and eat,” he said.

We stuffed ourselves with food then moved to our positions on the floor in front of the television and started a new game.  We played for over an hour when I finally decided to break the silence.

“How long did you know?” I asked.

“All my life,” he said.

I looked to him.  It wasn’t what I meant but it was the same answer I would have given.

“No,” I said.  “How long did you know about me?”

He shrugged his shoulders.

“There were signs,” he said.

“Like what?”

“Remember that one year we were in the same gym class?  Well you were checking out the same guys I was plus I was checking you out.”

“You were checking me out?” I asked.

“Yeah, but I was always a little disappointed you never looked at me.”

“I thought if I did I would burst into flames,” I said.

We both laughed.

“So what now?” I asked.

“It doesn’t have to be all bad.  You like me and I like you.”

“How do you know I like you?” I asked.

“You just said you’d burst into flames if you saw me in my undies,” he answered.

“Yeah right,” I said.

“So how about it?” he asked.

“What?”

We both stared at the screen.

“We’re in my apartment, no one else, all weekend long, with nothing else to do.”

I thought about it but there was one sticking point, anal sex.

“You’re not going to fuck me,” I said.

He paused the game and looked at me.  I looked at him back.  We stared each other in the eye.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked. 

I nodded.

He turned to me, readied himself.

“Say it.”

“What?” I asked.

“Say it.”

“You can kiss me,” I said.

He leaned in and took hold of my head then he kissed me.  He overpowered me at first and I was surprised when he slipped his tongue between my lips.  I had never been French Kissed before only little pecks and things from girls I knew.  I didn’t want him to feel completely in control so I resisted with my body and with my tongue but just enough that he didn’t lose interest.

He pulled away from me, maneuvered his body in front of mine and took hold of my wrists then kissed me again but this time pushed me to the floor.  His hands went to my shirt, under my shirt, and up my body.  I grabbed at him, grabbed at his shirt and pulled it.  We slid his shirt down off him then he threw it across the room.  He was back at me but this time he reached for my jeans and I stopped him.  I pulled away from the kiss.

“Wait,” I said.  “I’m not ready for that.”

“Fine by me,” he said.  He grabbed at my wrists again forcing them to the floor he mounted me and kissed at my neck.  I closed my eyes.  It all felt good as he kissed and licked at me, even playing with my nipples a little bit.  I forgot about most everything until he was back at my neck and I felt him really begin to suck.  I let out a moan and he let out a grunt. 

My first hickey bite, I thought, here on the floor of my friend’s apartment.  I was an adult.  I was off to college soon.  There would be more time to play.  He kissed at me but I was locked in thought.  Would this be something?  Would he want a relationship?

My troubles went away when he kissed at my stomach then followed down the thin hairs to my jeans, to the band of my underwear and stopped.

“Not yet,” he said.  He moved back up my body.

“Please,” I said.

He looked me in the eye.

“Just a blow job,” he said.

I nodded and he slipped down my stomach again this time taking his hands with him he unbuttoned my jeans and I raised my butt as he pulled them down leaving me in my white briefs with my cock pointing straight up almost sneaking out of the fabric.

He parted the fabric around the head which had become slippery from my come.  He licked at the head sending a shiver through my body.  He grabbed at my cock with one hand nearly covering the entire length between the base and head.  I was suddenly worried about the size of my dick.

“It’s cute,” he said.

“You’ve seen many?” I asked.

He put the head in his mouth and worked on it to create spit then when saliva was running from his mouth down the shaft and into my underwear he began to work his way down slowly taking more of me into him.  I thought I had reached the end of my ability to keep control but then I felt him grab my balls and pull them from the base as he closed his mouth.  He sucked on me.  It filled his mouth but I didn’t feel any teeth. 

How many times had he done this?  The thought escaped me and I grabbed at the carpet but there was nothing there to hold.

He pulled himself from me and I looked to him.  Spit hung from his lips in large gobs that swung as he moved.  He looked to me and smiled.

“Is this your first blow job?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Say it.”

I knew what he wanted to hear.

“It’s my first blow job,” I said.

“Good,” he said.

He lowered himself back to my cock head and I let my head fall back to the floor.  I turned it slightly to enjoy the feeling as my hair moved between my head and the carpet as he sucked and sucked, rubbed at me, and then finally I felt it.

I tried to reach to him and let him know but it didn’t matter.  He took it in his mouth, milked at my cock until he had it all.  I was delighted as he moved up my body.  I knew he wanted to kiss me but when I saw his closed lips I knew my come was in his mouth.  I paused for a moment before I pushed myself from the floor to meet him.

I had tasted my own come before but this was different.  This was all of it along with his spit and tongue.  It burned and I thought about spitting it out but stopped myself because it felt like it would be weak after what he did so I swallowed it.

He pulled himself from my lips.

“What do you want to do now?” he asked.

“I don’t know but we have all weekend,” I said.

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The Brat: Delayed Gratification (draft)

Mr. Grant had me sit in a wooden kitchen 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.

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 hips 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 impossible big.  He kept at it as I moaned, worked the dildo in me to remind me it was still there.  He 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.

A Night To Forget (short story)

Being seniors had gotten to our heads and we weren’t thinking right.  It was just after graduation.  The summer before my friends and I would all be going our separate ways.  It started out as a joke, because we didn’t get to have any kind of senior prank, when we started talking about egging the school in some kind of revenge.  That’s when someone mentioned they knew where a teacher lived.  At first we started asking each other if any of us knew about others but we didn’t.  So that was the one and we decided the easiest thing to do would be to T.P. the trees and egg the place.

Getting the supplies was easy enough as our parents had plenty around our houses.  We went to just about every one, snuck by them, our parents weren’t home, and a few even flat out asked if they could have them to which they agreed.  There were two car loads of us, five in each one. 

Being a skinny guy I was stuck in the back between my two friends Matt and Eric.  David drove and Ted was as usual in the passenger seat.  The other car got there slightly before us.  It was close to midnight and there weren’t many street or houselights.  We did the T.P. first, then the eggs, and finally someone started to yell a victorious yell before we all ran back to our cars.  I was smashed between the two when we got back inside and our car pulled away, going a separate direction from the other one.  We laughed and yelled as we got more comfortable, congratulated each other and ourselves for what we had just done.  David squealed tire and we all laughed as we felt we’d be home soon. 

It was several songs later.  We were almost back.  And that’s when we heard the sirens as red and blue lights flashed behind us.  Dave looked in the rear view mirror and we all got quiet.  There was a tension, an emptiness in the car.  We looked around at each other, each of us unsure what we should do.  I felt very small.  My hand on my knee I worked the denim with my finger.

“Is everyone buckled up?” Dave asked.

“I am,” Ted said.

“Hold on,” Matt said.

I tried to say that I wasn’t but Eric turned into me as he reached for his seat belt.  I let out a groan of pain as I felt his elbow dig into me.  He reached down, the back of his hand against my ass he grabbed the buckle.  I tried to shift but couldn’t get to my seat belt. 

“Wait, wait,” I said.

“Too late,” David said.

He pulled the car to the side of the road, turned off the music.  We heard the cop car pull in behind us, the headlights flooded our car.  I wanted desperately to be anywhere else but I knew I couldn’t escape.  We had been foolish.  We had done something wrong.  It was all over.

“Turn the car off, keep your hands on the steering wheel and remain in the car,” a voice over a loud speaker called out to us.

David turned off the car, placed his hands on the steering wheel.  No one wanted to move, no one wanted to get out of the car.

“I want the driver to open the door slowly and step out of the car.”

We looked to David who opened the car door, stepped out slowly, and turned back towards the cop car.

“Lay down on your stomach.”

He did.

“Now, I want to the passenger to do the same thing.  Get out of the car slowly, step out slowly, and lay down on your stomach.”

We looked to Ted who did as he was commanded.

“Now, starting on the right side, I want the passenger in the back to get out.”

I looked to Matt who unbuckled his seat belt, which now seemed pointless, and watched him get out of the car, lay down on his stomach.  I looked to Eric next to me.  He was commanded to do the same thing.  It was just me there in the car.  For one moment I thought about jumping into the driver’s seat and trying to get away, anything, just one more moment of freedom, one more moment of not having to confront reality.

“You in the car, I want you to step out of the back slowly on the left side, step around your friend and move to the rear where I want you to lay down on your stomach.”

“Here we go,” I said aloud to myself.

I moved out of the car.  There was Eric on the ground.  I felt a cool breeze, closed my eyes momentarily in the harsh light, and stuck my hands up in the air.  The air smelled of dirt and flowers, maybe something wild.  I opened my eyes and looked to the cop car, saw the exact shape of the headlights.  I stepped around Eric to the back of the car where I slid along the bumper, got down on my knees.  I leaned forward, put my hands in the gravel and lowered myself to the ground, turned my face to the right, let my cheek touch the stones. 

It wasn’t long after that, a few heartbeats, that another cop car arrived.  Together with the first they cuffed each of us and placed us in the back seat of the two different cars.  I was placed between Eric and Matt again.  David and Ted were in the other one.  We were taken to the station, helped out of the cars, and into the building where we were led into a main office area, sat in different chairs.  The two officers who had brought us in stood nearby.  They were young, not much older than us, handsome.  It was the first time I really got to see them.  I looked to my friends who looked disheveled and worried. 

Their authority was evident and very powerful as we sat there, but neither of them really did anything.  They just stood around.  I thought it couldn’t get much worse when I heard a door open, the sound of hard shoes on concrete.  I looked to the doorway where I saw a middle-aged man, dressed in a button down shirt with an open collar, slacks, and a coat.  He had short black hair with streaks of grey.  He was fit. 

He walked to us, looked us over.  I looked away to my feet, to the floor.  I could tell the others looked back, maybe even looked him in the eye.  I just wanted out.  The cuffs felt impossibly real.

“I’ll start with him,” the man said.

I looked up to see he was pointing at me.  I looked around to the others but they didn’t move.  They didn’t speak or even look at me reassuringly.

“Take him into the interrogation room,” the man said.

A uniformed officer moved to me, reached for my shoulders and I got to my feet.  He led me away from the others, down a hallway and to a door where he took out a key, unlocked the door, then ushered me inside where I found a table, one chair, and a one-way mirror.  I looked to the glass, then to the table.  He took off my cuffs and stood with me until there was a sound at the door.  I looked behind me to see the man entered the room.  He walked past me to the far side of the table to the only chair where he sat.  He had a clipboard that he set down.  He crossed his legs and took out a stylish pen with a twist off cap.  The officer looked to him, he nodded back, and the officer exited the room.  I shifted on my feet, crossed my arms.

“Nervous?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said.

“What’s your name?”

“Trent,” I said.

“I’m Mr. Winters,” he said.  “I’m the Sheriff.”

I looked to his knees, up his chest, to his eyes.  I could see the wrinkles in his face but they were endearing because his face was sharp.  He had blue eyes.

“Do you know why you are here?” he asked.

“No,” I said with shake of my head.

“There was an incident earlier tonight, a house was vandalized.  Someone threw toilet paper in the tree and eggs at the house.  Do you know what I’m talking about?”

I shook my head.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” I said.

“What were you doing tonight?”

I looked up to him, looked to the mirror.

“We were just riding around,” I said.

“There were two cars seen outside the house.  One of them matched a description of the one you were in and I think you and your friends did it.”

I looked to my feet.

“I’m going to need you to undress,” he said.

“What?” I asked.

“Forensic evidence,” he said, “it looks like you have some egg on your shirt.”

“Really?” I asked.

“It’s right there,” he said as pointed at me.

I looked down to my shirt and saw some stains but didn’t know if they were from eggs or something else, some other stain.

“They can do all kinds of tests these days.”

“Really?”

He nodded.  I moved my hands to my chest, my fingers to the top button just under the collar.  I undid it, then the next, all the way down, and finally I slid my shirt down my shoulders and my back, set it on the table.  It was cold in the room and my tank top undershirt was little protection.

“Looks like you have a stain on your pants too,” he said.

“What?” I asked with a nervous laugh.

“Take them off,” he said.

I looked him in the eye, then looked down to my shoes as I knew they’d have to come off first.  How did he have the right to do this?

“No,” I said.  “I won’t do it.”

“You don’t have a choice.  I’m in the process of collecting evidence and you’re wearing it.  I can’t let you contaminate or destroy it.  So take off the pants young man.”

He looked to his watch.  Was he timing me?  I knew it was tough in the South but I thought that was all in our past.  I thought about the stories I had heard.  He was an old man, at least old enough that maybe he didn’t really have any compassion for me, or at least had some other sense of justice.  I shifted on my feet as I kicked off one shoe then the other.  I took hold of my belt and unbuckled it.  He nodded at me to signify I was doing the right thing.  I realized then I was wearing briefs, white briefs, and I remembered what it felt like to change in the locker rooms now that most people wore boxers or at least boxer briefs, nonconforming underwear that left a little ambiguity to someone’s privates.  Briefs didn’t.

I undid my jeans, pushed them down my thighs, past my knees to my ankles, and stepped out of them.  I felt ridiculous in my socks and underwear but I held my shoulders up and took a deep breath with my jeans in my hands trying to hide my crotch.  He signaled for me to place them on the table so I did, then let my hands drift back in front of me, tried to subtly place them over my crotch.

“Put your shoes on the table too,” he said.

He clenched his jaw before he looked to the mirror and called out for someone to bring an evidence bag to take away my clothes.  Moments later the door to the room opened and one of the officers came in with three bags, placed my jeans in one, shoes in another, and shirt in a third.  He looked me up and down, snickered at me, then carried my clothes out of the room.  I thought to ask for something to wear, something to at least cover myself.

“Anything else you would like to say?” Mr. Winters asked.

I looked him in the eye and my skin burned with an uncomfortable tightness.  I’m sure my face turned red, maybe other parts of my body as well.  I wanted to deny everything.  I wanted to ask for a lawyer.  I wanted to yell, just yell, but I stopped myself.  He uncrossed his legs and stood, walked to me.  He motioned for me to turn, ushered me out of the room, back down the hallway to where the second officer stood next to my friends, my still clothed friends.  He led me to them, motioned for me to sit on the bench.  The others looked to me before he picked out the next person, David, and led him away.  I looked to the other officer’s shoes, then to my friends’ shoes, my own socked feet.

“Where’s your clothes?” Eric asked under his breath.

I shook my head and looked to the officer.

“Are we all going to have to take off our clothes?” he asked.

I looked him in the eye, then looked to the officer who pretended not to notice us, but I thought it wouldn’t take much to get his wrathful attention.  Eric looked away and the rest sat quietly.  It wasn’t long before we heard footsteps and we all looked to the hallway I had just been down to see David, still clothed, being led back to us. 

One by one he took the rest to the interrogation room and each one came back still wearing their clothes.  Ted was the last to be brought back and before he could sit Mr. Winters told the officer to take us all to a cell to wait while he made some phone calls.  Eventually the other officer came back, whispered something to the officer who had been watching us and they both had a laugh.  They led us back to the hallway, only down some steps with one landing as it led back under the floor where we had been.  It was cold, dreary.  There was a small area for a guard, a door that one of them unlocked, and a hallway with cells on each side.  There were six cells.  He put us all in one. 

We looked around at each other and to the two cots.  David and Ted moved to one where they sat.  Matt and Eric moved to the other and sat.  I looked to each pairing, covered myself with my hands as we listened the officers leave us.  We waited until we figured they were out of hearing range before we spoke.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“It’s just an intimidation tactic,” David said.  “He wants to get you to turn against us.  Did you say anything?”

“No, of course not,” I said.

“Well, we just have to wait and see what happens.  He doesn’t have any proof,” Matt said.

“He has my clothes,” I said.

“Well, at least you wore clean tighty whities,” Eric said.

“They are clean right?” Ted asked.

“Fuck you guys,“ I replied.

“Come on let’s see the back.  You have a nice ass,” Matt said.

They all laughed.  I felt humiliated as I stood there in front of them, and a little excited too.  I knew I had to take a seat, try to hide my growing erection.  I looked to Dave and Ted who looked unmoving, then to Matt and Eric who had space between them.  I moved in the latter direction and they moved apart to let me between them.  It wasn’t much and I was squashed between them just like the back seat, though slightly different as I didn’t have pants or a shirt and I could feel theirs rubbing against my exposed skin.

Thankfully it wasn’t long before Mr. Winters came to our cell and we all looked out through the bars to him.  He looked us over, maybe his eyes lingered on me a little longer but I tried to ignore it.  He looked to his silver wrist watch, noted the time, then looked back to us.  He cleared his throat before he spoke.

“We have a positive identification for each of you as well as your car.  Normally you would be charged and wait for a judge to set bail, there would be a long court process, and your parents would have to pay for a good lawyer to maybe get you off with probation which means for those of you traveling for college that may risk your ability to leave the state.  Luckily for you I talked with the owner who agreed that I could deal out a different punishment.”

“What’s that sir?” David asked.

“The second option is that you take a paddling from me tonight and then tomorrow morning, first thing, you go to the man’s house and clean up.  There will be no court, no trial, no pleading, and nothing will go on your record.  Think it over because it has to be unanimous.”

I’m sure some of the guys would have taken the deal right then.  It felt like Eric and Ted were about to jump up and try to go after him.  After all most of the guys had experienced that kind of punishment either from their father or a principal.  I never did.  And I was feeling particularly vulnerable in my underwear.

“What are we going to do?” I asked.

“What do you mean?  It’s easy,” David said.

“Yeah, I’m for it,” Ted added.

Matt looked away.  Eric said he would do it.  It was just me and Matt after all.  We were the only ones who hadn’t been paddled before and we didn’t want to refuse, but we also didn’t want this to be our first time. 

“This is nothing,” Eric said.  “It could be a lot worse.  We could have records.  This could really fuck with college and getting a job.  Do you want to have to fill out that little section on a job application if you’ve ever been convicted of a crime for the rest of your life?”

“I think that’s Federal not misdemeanor,” I said.

“So what,” David said.  “I’m doing it and so are you two.”

I looked to Matt who took a deep breath.  He looked around at the rest of the guys and nodded.  I shifted on my seat, felt my hand drop to my bare thigh, the way my stomach barely touched over the waist band of my briefs as I leaned forward, and the way my nipples felt.  My skin felt brittle as if one little touch and I would break.

“Come on guys,” I said.

“It’s done.  It’s over.  If you still want to be our friend then you’ll go along with this.  You’ll take your licks and be done with it.  He can’t do too much.  It’s like going to the principal’s office,” David said.

“I’ve never been to the principal’s office,” I replied.

“What’s it going to be?” David asked.

I looked around at them, certain that they would not respect me if I didn’t agree, so I nodded my head and told them I’d do it.  It wasn’t long after our discussion that Mr. Winters returned with the paddle in hand.

“What’s it going to be?” he asked.

“We’ll take the paddling,” Dave said.

“Yeah,” Ted added.

“Is it unanimous?”

I looked to Eric.

“Yes sir,” he said.

I looked to Matt.

“Yes sir,” he said.

I swallowed.

“What about you?” he asked pointing the paddle at me.

I nodded.

“I need to hear it,” he said.

It was all down to me, but not really.  I knew it was the easiest thing.  I knew we needed clean records.  I knew I wanted them to be my friends.

“Yes sir, I’ll take a paddling,” I said.

He unlocked the door, motioned for us to come out, and took us back up through the office and to the hallway outside his office where he had four of us sit on a long bench.  Ted was first.  Mr. Winters closed the door and it wasn’t long after that we heard the crack of the paddle and screams of pain, then eventually crying. 

Each was taken in turn to be paddled and then led away by one of the officers back down to our cell.  I sat on the bench, the last to be called.  I felt ridiculous and my knee kept bouncing up and down despite stopping myself several times.  I had heard everyone else take a beating and when the sound of the paddle hitting David’s ass finally stopped I knew I was next.  It was a tension that formed in my shoulders, ran across the top of my back in a perfect line.  Then the door handle moved a little and I looked to see it open.

Mr. Winters stood there first for a moment before he opened it completely, then ushered David out.  David seemed reduced, broken.  His face was red from crying, even though he looked down to the ground I could see it.  He looked to me out of the corner of his eyes and I just knew he was trying to warn me somehow.  There was nothing I could do to change what was going to happen.  His look only made me more afraid.  I looked to his jean clad ass, the small of his back as he walked away.  He didn’t have any cuffs on and I thought at least there would be some little improvement. 

Mr. Winters led David away back to the cells.  I looked to my own handcuffed wrists, then my socks.  I looked at my white cloth covered crotch, felt the band that stretched over my hip just above my thigh.  There was nothing I could do.  I knew he was coming back for me.  The cuffs felt so real.  If only I had something to pick them, no I told myself, there is nothing.  Mr. Winters returned from around the corner and walked to me.

“You’re next,” he said.

I got up from the bench, my shoulders low I walked into his office.  He shut the door and told me to sit down in the chair in front of his desk.  I watched him walk around his desk, rolling up his sleeves as he did.  He secured them above his elbow, then moved to his desk chair where surprisingly he sat.  I looked over the desk to him, up to his eyes, but when I got close to them I looked away.  He cleared his throat and I thought for a moment he would say we were going to start but he didn’t.

“I’m a little tired after beating all those asses.  I haven’t done so many in one night before, the paddle doesn’t know the difference but my arms do.”

He let out an amused air through his nostrils, then looked to me.  He studied me for a moment before he reached into his desk and took out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.  I watched as he took a cigarette out and lit it.  He took a long pull, then breathed the smoke out through his nose. 

“Do you want something before we do this?  A cigarette or a cola or something?”

I shook my head.

“Are you sure?”

I looked up to him and sensed real compassion.  The cigarette sounded good though I didn’t really smoke, at least not without being drunk.  A dead man’s last smoke, I thought, at least I get one before the firing squad.  The joke made me smile and it felt like some tension had been broken in the room.  He saw me staring at the pack so he picked them up and shook it a little until one came out.  I reached across the desk with my cuffed hands and took it, stuck it in my mouth. 

“Oh right, sorry about that,” he said before he got up from behind his desk and took the keys from his pocket.  He moved to me, unlocked my cuffs and set them beside him as he sat on the corner.  He picked up his lighter, lit it, and offered me the flame.  I stretched my neck to meet his offer and inhaled deeply.  The smoke was familiar, a bit strong, but familiar and I was glad there was at least one thing I could do to maybe impress this man.

He shifted a little, looked down at me.  Was he looking me over?  I had felt him doing it during the interrogation, but I thought it was just him studying my body language.  I looked to his thigh, to his crotch.  His tight jeans hid everything.  I looked to his arms, his chest.  I could tell he was strong.  I looked up to his neck, to his mustache.  He took in more smoke and blew it out through his nose.  I did the same.

“You’re not like those other boys,” he said.

I looked up to his eyes and he stared back.

“They’re cocky and athletic.  How’d you end up being friends with them?”

His question cut right through the illusion I had always maintained, right to the heart of my insecurity.  I wasn’t like them, but they were somehow friends of mine. 

“I don’t know.  I met Eric and Matt when we were on the track team together.  I also used to be on the wrestling team in junior high but I quit before high school.  It wasn’t my thing anymore.”

“You mean it turned you on,” he said.

“What?  No, I just, I mean, no,” I said.

“It’s okay.  It’s normal to get excited when wrestling,” he said.  “It doesn’t help being in those outfits.”

I let out a nervous laugh.  He grinned before he took another drag deep into his lungs, then exhaled off to the side before putting his cigarette out in an ash tray on his desk.  He held out his hand to take my cigarette and I gave it to him.  He put it out, then motioned for me to stand.  I had almost gotten comfortable.  He took hold of my elbow and told me to assume the position against the desk. 

For a moment I wanted to pull out of his grip even though I knew he was trying to help me somehow.  I leaned to the desk and put my hands down flat, watched as he retrieved the paddle, moved behind me.  I balled my toes and it felt like surge of heat ran from my ankles up my body, under my briefs, and all the way to my eyes.  He swung the paddle behind me to get a feel for it.  I lowered my head.

The first hit was unexpected, across both cheeks the pain seemed to wrap around my sides and go to my groin.  For a moment I thought I was getting it worse than the others because I didn’t have the protection of jeans, though I’m not sure if my friends did either when they were in here.  He struck me again and that time the pain ran up my spine but stopped somewhere just below my ribs.  My ass began to ache in a dull, persistent feeling.  It was tolerable.  Somehow the pressure of my hands against his desk seemed worse.  He hit me again and the pain that had stuck under my ribs moved up into my throat.  Another stroke and I let out a grunt of pain as I lowered my head and shifted on my feet. 

I was able to hold in any sound for another three strikes but I knew, I could feel if it lasted much longer I would have to release it somehow.  I didn’t know how many more there would be.  He hadn’t said.  I hadn’t counted, or been able to count how many the others had gotten just that they had all be in bad shape when he opened the door.  Oh no, I thought, it’s not a limit of how many, just how many it takes to make me cry.  My shoulders felt impossibly tight, stuck out past my ears.  My socked feet felt slippery.  My briefs felt impossibly small. 

Another strike, then another, and another that made me cry out for him to stop.  I felt the pain throughout my entire body, my arms were stiff, my biceps strained.  I tried to ready myself for another blow when I felt his warm hand on my shoulder.  He set the paddle down on the desk beside me, the grating sound of wood on wood was memorable and disturbing. 

“We can do the rest by hand if you pull down your underwear,” he said.

I bit my lip as I pushed myself up.  My hands went to my sides and I took hold of the small bits of fabric, then shoved them down, let it fall to my ankles. 

“I just meant down around your ass,” he said.

I let out a sigh as I felt completely embarrassed.  My limp dick, my balls, had been unnecessarily exposed.  He could see all of me.  I squatted down, picked up my underwear and pulled the material back up to my waist, let the front pouch settle between my thighs before I pulled the back down to expose my ass.  He gripped at my shoulder to comfort me, then pushed a little and I knew to get back in position.  He laid into me with his calloused hand.  It didn’t take much.  That’s not true.  How many is enough?  What scale are we using?  It was well over twenty. 

In the end it wasn’t the pain.  I don’t think it was anyway.  It was the humiliation.  It was the anger for letting myself get into this position.  It was the honest need to be punished for misbehaving.  I felt myself give up.  I had been defeated.

My ass was beat.  I was broken.  I turned to him, crying, my face as red as my butt.  I fell into his shoulder, pressed my cheek against his shirt.  He let me cry it all out, then he pushed us apart and for a moment I thought it was over.  I thought he would take me back to the cell and let us all go.  But he had a look in his eyes and maybe, just maybe I did too. 

That’s when he pulled me into a kiss, shoved his tongue between my lips.  I gave to him for a moment, then started to kiss back, our tongues pressed against one another. 

“I want you,” he said between kisses.

“Fuck me,” I replied.

He pushed us apart again, this time he turned me, pushed me to the desk where he guided my face down to the cool, wood surface.  He unbuckled his belt, undid his jeans.  I heard them fall to his ankles behind me.  His hands went to my hips and he jerked my underwear down, let them fall to my sock covered ankles. 

He got close.  I felt his pubic hair, his hard cock between my ass cheeks as he leaned to my shoulder.  His shirt buttons tickled my back as he put his lips to my neck.  I could smell his cologne as well his breath.  He kissed behind one ear, then the other.  His breath smelled of coffee and cigarettes, not the best odors but real ones.  He reached over his desk to his top drawer and took out something. 

When he balanced himself on that hand I looked to see a tube of lubricant and condoms.  He was going to fuck me, I thought.  I wanted it.  I wanted him.  I heard the tearing of the condom package, the pop of the lubricant bottle.  I was trying to imagine him behind me, rolling on the condom, greasing his dick, and then I felt him touch me with two fingers.  The middle slipped inside my anus to the first digit momentarily.  It was going to happen.  He was opening me up.  He worked his fingers at my puckered hole until he could get both fingers in at the same time.  I moaned and tried to relax, pushed out as he pushed into me.  He went to his last knuckle.  He was inside of me.  It felt like I had been broken into separate parts.  There was my head, my sensitive lips, my hands, and the my asshole that felt completely separate and yet connected to me. 

He worked back and forth until I got comfortable, then he pulled out, stuck his dick against me.  I felt it slip up between my red cheeks, he slapped me on my ass reigniting the pain I felt there before he pulled back, aimed for me, my insides.  The head of his dick touched my hole and I felt it slowly pushing into me.  He slowly worked until he was down to his balls and his pubic hair, then he leaned down onto my back again and kissed at my neck, my ear.  I turned back to him, my lips felt sensitive and warm.  He explored my mouth with his tongue, forced himself between my lips.  I thought for a moment I could capture his tongue but then he pulled out of my mouth, a string of spit slipped out with it.  It hung there for a moment before it fell onto the desk and on my shoulder. 

His dick held me open.  For a moment I thought it was the only sensation I would ever feel until he put his hands on my shoulders, his fingernails dug into my skin and he ran them down my back.  When he got to my hips he started to buck again, started to pound me.  I reached across the desk and tried to grab for the other side.  He pounded my thighs into the edge of the desk and we began to rock there, slowly working it across the floor.  My feet stretched my underwear as far as possible, I thought I heard a seam tear but it didn’t matter.

As the desk moved I stepped and he followed behind me until we knocked his desk chair onto the floor.  The noise scared us both but we couldn’t stop.  He pulled me back, to the chair where I had been sitting and he pulled me down into it.  His dick still impaled into me I rested for a moment on his thighs as I felt his warm muscled chest against my back.  He kissed at my neck.  I moaned.  He gripped under my armpits and I knew I had to take over as I lifted myself up.

“Put your feet up on my knees,” he said.

I lifted one foot out of my underwear and placed it on his bare knee, lifted my other foot.  I kicked my underwear to the wall before I secured both feet on his knees.  His arms wrapped around my chest, his fingers twisted my nipples, and I began to slow process of raising and lowering myself on his dick.  He kissed and supported me until my legs felt strained and I signaled I needed to stop.  I put my feet down and together we got up to our feet and moved back to the desk.  We bumped against it but it didn’t move. 

Our sweaty bodies against one another I was unsure how long I could stand or how much longer he could go.  He ran one hand up my back and forced me back down to the flat surface before he slapped me on my ass.  I moaned and felt myself tighten around him as I tried to rise to the balls of my feet.  He pulled out, pushed into me, pulled out, and finally I felt him grip at my sides, rending my flesh. 
He fell on my back.  His hairy chest covered in sweat it felt like we were glued together.  It had been a fulfilling experience and yet I still hadn’t gotten off, so I reached down to my own dick that was slick and hard.  I jerked myself for a few moments.  It was easy.  I closed my eyes as I ejaculated down under his desk onto his tiled floor.  I thought for a moment he would kiss me again. 

I hoped we could have some moment of comfort, but he pulled back from me and I heard the sound of him pulling off the condom before he wiped himself off with a handkerchief, tucked himself back into his jeans.  I turned to him as I felt my ass still recovering.  He tossed me the handkerchief and told me to clean up. 

The room, us, we smelled of sex and balloons.  His chest was muscled and bare for a moment before he picked up his shirt.  He continued to dress as I leaned back against the desk.  It was over.  Our moment had passed.  I looked around, ready for someone to enter but no one did.  He moved to my underwear and picked them up, tossed them to me.  His passion was gone.  He was all business. 
I looked over my underwear that had been stretched out, stepped into them.  They were loose around my waist and crotch.  I showed him and he told me he’d get my clothes from the evidence room before he left me.  I sat on his desk, stared at the door.  No handcuffs and no one to watch me I thought about trying to get back at him somehow, but I knew it would only be more trouble so I just waited.

He returned minutes later with my clothes.  It looked like he had stopped at the bathroom to wash up and comb his hair.  I took the bags from him, opened them, and slowly dressed myself.  When I was completely dressed he took me by my elbow and led me to the bathroom where he told me to clean up in the sink.  I didn’t see the officers.  I looked at myself in the mirror but really I watched him.  He looked nervous, even ashamed.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Uh, my officers took your friends home and they’re back out on patrol.  I’m going to drive you home.”

Great, I thought.  He didn’t touch me again, but ushered me back out of the police headquarters, locking the doors as we went, and led me to his car.  I got in the passenger seat.  We didn’t talk as he drove me to my parent’s place.  I got out and turned to say something to him but he drove away.  I thought it was over so I just went into the house to my room and fell asleep face down on my bed without even undressing.  It had been a long night but I still woke up in a few hours when the phone rang.  My mother told me it was my friends calling me to remind me about the charity work we had agreed to do so I answered it.  They said they were at the teacher’s house and I was late.  I jumped out of bed and told them I’d be right there.

I asked my mother for the car and she said I could take it but I had to be back by noon.  I said it wouldn’t be a problem.  I drove to the teacher’s house, unsure if I would be in more trouble.  When I got there I saw my friends cleaning up the front yard, slow but deliberate.  I pulled to the curb and parked the car.  For a moment I thought it would be easy until I spotted the front door of the house open and I saw Mr. Winters step out.  I looked down the street and saw his car.  I thought about the night before and I thought about his shame.  My ass was sore.  I had to pull it off the seat and groaned as I crossed the lawn to my friends. 

Mr. Winters didn’t say anything to me about being late.  My friends were just happy I showed.  We worked through the morning until everything was picked up.  We finally stopped and I saw my friends didn’t look much better than I felt.  Mr. Winters dismissed them, the teacher went back in the house, but I waited around pretending like I wanted to ask him something.  Finally we were alone.  He moved to me, inches apart.

“About last night,” he said.

“Let’s see if we can do it again,” I said.

He looked away nervously but I decided to take advantage of him so I took hold of the front of his shirt and pulled him into a brief kiss before I stepped back, thanked him, and walked away.

“You have my number so give me a call before I have an emergency,” I said.

I went to my car and looked back to him.  He stood dumbfounded.  I got inside the car, started it, and drove away confident that I was going to see him again.