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Showing posts with label cmnm. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cmnm. Show all posts

Saturday, May 25, 2019

Binky

For a year I lied to myself that I wasn’t smoking a lot, just when I had a drink, between writing chapters of my book, and the odd ocassions when I felt I needed one, but not a lot, not a pack a day like my father used to smoke.  It was the one bad habit, my worst habit, that my new boyfriend Dino hated.  Dino had become my rock in many ways, the healthy one.  He worked as a personal trainer, that’s how we met, and he always told me he worked so hard that he didn’t want to poison himself, aside from a few drinks.  He’d give me this look when he walked in on me in the office or when I stepped out of a bar or some event we were at together to have one.  It all built up to this one day as I sat typing I could hear him in the other room playing videogames with his friend Kyle.  I went to take one out and realized I had a few left so with it between my lips I walked out to find them on the couch.

They were sat in diapers and t-shirts, controllers in their hands.  Their feet conspicuously off the floor.  Kyle looked up to me for a moment then looked back to the TV where he continued to play as he crinkled his nose.  Dino did the same but he also waved his hand back and forth in front of his and faked a cough.  “Sorry,” I said before I held it behind my back, “but I’m really onto something.  Would you run out and get me some smokes?”  Dino rolled his eyes.  Kyle whispered something in his ear.  They both laughed.  I wanted to ask what was so funny but stopped myself.  “How about it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Please,” I begged.

“Well, what do you think Kyle?”

“I think we could use some snacks.”

“So it’s a deal?”

“Hmmph,” Dino replied.

“What?” I asked.

“I don’t like encouraging you to smoke.”

“You’re not encouraging me.  It’s more like I’m feeding a habit, one I had before we met, so it’s not like you should feel responsible.  I promise I’ll quit when I finish this book.”

I took out my wallet and pulled out a twenty dollar bill.  I stepped into the room to handed it to him and they both chuckled.

“What’s going on guys?” I asked.

“You’re standing on lava Mr. Butters,” Kyle said.

“Oh is that all,” I replied, “well use the rest for snacks.”

Dino took the money and pocketed it.  He had his own cash, his own job, but it didn’t feel right for him to pay for my cigarettes and at least this way they’d get something at the corner store.  I walked out of the room and back to my office where I sat at my desk and began to type.  I barely heard them leave the apartment, for a little while the silence annoyed me so I took out my headphones and put on some music in the background to listen to while continued to type and smoke like a chimney.  I was really into it.  I had this hope of completing my first novel.  I typed away for hours, smoked all of my cigarettes and it was only when I ran out that I wondered when they’d return.  I picked up the box, crumpled it, dropped it on top of my basket next to my desk that was full of balls of paper, all of them previous incarnations and notes of what I was writing.

When the front door of the apartment was opened I looked up as if I had heard the greatest sound in the world.  It was Dino and he was alone.  He had bags in his hands.  I could smell food.  Like a hungry dog I went out to find him in the dining room with a bag of fast food in the middle and several bags in hand that he carried away into the living room before I could see what was in them.  He kept looking at me the entire time so I knew he was trying to keep a secret from me.  I opened the bag and took out a fry.  It was still hot.  He rejoined me and sat across the table from me.

Cigarettes were no longer on my mind.  I was hungry.  So we sat and ate, made small talk.  I asked him what happened to Kyle and he told me that he’d gone home.  I tried to talk to him about anything except for my smokes.  But when we finished eating, as I licked the congealed bun and meat from my teeth, washed it away with the cold, sweet pop I had that urge again.

“So um,” I said.

“Yes?”

“What did you buy?  Did you buy me anything?”

“Maybe,” he replied coyly.

“What is it?”

“It’s a little bit of a secret.”

“When do I get to find out?”

“Come in the living room and I’ll show you, but you have to behave yourself,” he said.

This was a bit of an unusual thing for him.  He wasn’t one for secrets, neither was I.  In fact honesty and sharing was the best thing we had together.  I felt like I could tell him anything.  I felt like he knew he could tell me anything.  We wouldn’t judge.  We wouldn’t condemn.  We’d try to figure it out.  The ‘behave yourself’ part though was especially unique.  Usually I was the one who liked to start games like this.  I loved to surprise him and I usually took control of things.  It was turning me on a little so I followed after him into the living room.  He motioned for me to stand between the coffee table and the TV.  This really would be a surprise, I thought.  The bags were down on the floor, partially hidden from sight.  But instead of opening them he pulled his phone from his pocket and set it down on the coffee table facing me.

“What’s going on?  What’d you buy me?”

“Before I show you, here’s the cigarettes you asked for-” -he pulled the pack out and held them up- “-but if you want them we make a deal first.  You have to sign this contract on my phone.  It’s to quit smoking, but it’s not just any contract.  There are rules.  And there are punishments if you break them.  Kyle and I thought it up while we were out shopping.  The first one is that while you’re smoking you have to be obedient to me.  I know it’s usually the other way around.  I know how much you like to be the dominant one.  I like it when you are.  But, I’m worried for your health.  If you sign, then this is your last pack.  After this we work to wean you off.”

“How obedient?  What do you have planned for me to be doing?  I’m not really into sex slave contracts.  I’m not just going to do everything.”

“I know.  It’ll be a negotiation, but trust me, I have a plan for you.”

“What if I don’t sign?”

“I’ll love you the same, but you have to go buy your own and you can’t have what’s in the bag.”

“Is it something fun?”

“Maybe,” he said with a mischievous grin.

“Will I like it?”

“Possibly,” he said.

He was even more coy.  This was entertaining to him as I stood there in front of him at his mercy.  He had my cigarettes.  Yes, I could go buy them but I wanted one right then.  But more than anything I wanted to please him.  I wanted to stop even if it was only for him.  I shifted on my feet, tried to scratch at the back of one calf with my other foot.

“What exactly do you have in mind?”

“You could read the contract and find out,” he answered.

I looked into his eyes.  There were written contracts between men, I thought, the best ones though in principle are an agreement between two people.  There shouldn’t be anything in there that I couldn’t live with, nothing to hold over me that would keep me in complete submission.   That wasn’t the deal in our relationship.  Often I took the dominant role in the bedroom and in life, he was like a guiding hand who reassured, questioned, and helped me plan, but this, handing over power to him.  It was embarrassing and thrilling at the same time.  I felt the sweat run down from my shoulders and pool at the small of my back.  Okay, I thought as I blew out an exasperated sigh and bent down to sign, but as I did I couldn’t really see the words.  He dropped the pack on the table.  I got down on my knees to examine it more closely.  He twirled the pack.  I scrolled to the bottom.  There was the space to sign my name.  I did it.  I licked my lips as I reached for the pack, but he pulled it away.

“What’s going on?”

He took back his phone, saved the file, and he had the biggest grin on his face.  He put the pack in his pocket as well, then he leaned down with his elbows on his knees and looked me in the eyes.

“Did you really think it was going to be that easy?”

“Well yeah,” I replied.  “Let me have just one.”

“Nope, not until afterwards.”

“After what?”

“We have some things to take care of as part of the contract.  These cigarettes, I decide when and how many you smoke.  That’s the first rule.  You really should have read the contract.”

“Wait, let me see it again,” I said.

“Nope, now it’s time for you to be obedient.”

“If I had known that I wouldn’t have signed.  Maybe I should just go and get my own.”

“And break your word?  We made a deal.”

“Hey look,” I said, “if I knew I wouldn’t get one or that you’d be the one in control I wouldn’t have done it.  You tricked me.”

“You tricked yourself, now, let’s get one thing clear.  I’m in control now.  You will do what I say, when I say, how I say, until you stop this filthy habit.  I’m going to hold you to it.  Didn’t I mention there would be punishments for disobedience?”

“But-”

He waved off my rebuttal and instead he picked up the bags from the floor and put them on the table in front of me.  He looked inside them and his grin gave way to giggling and laughter.  I was doomed, I thought as I lowered my head in regret.  But then I felt it, my erection, as I shifted a little I felt harder than I had been in a long time, so hard it parted the fly of my boxer briefs and was right up against my jeans and leaking.  The sensitive tip rubbed course material.

“Actually, let’s go to the bathroom first,” he said.  “But before we do I want you to stand up and strip off all your clothing.”

I let out a grunt and sigh as I got to my feet.  I looked up to him, then back down to my feet as I slowly unbuttoned my shirt.  Normally it was no big deal to be naked but this was the first time he was telling me to strip in such a dominant way.  If he did it other times it was seductive but this.  I felt my fingers tremble a little as I undid the buttons.  I didn’t know if it was the lack of nicotine or some genuine fear but I did it.  I pulled the flaps out of my jeans, pulled it from my shoulders, then dropped it on the floor.  Next was my belt.  I unfastened it, pulled it from the loops, dropped it.  I unbuttoned my jeans, unzipped them.  My hard dick was right there.  He laughed a little, amused this was turning me on.  I tucked it away, pulled my jeans down and off, dropped them on the pile I was creating.  My socks, foot to foot, I took them off, let them fall.  Last was my underwear.

Being naked shouldn’t be so humiliating, I thought, we’ve screwed in every room.  He’s seen me naked so many times.  I’ve seen him naked.  We’ve chased each other around, well no, I’ve chased him around with our erections bouncing, but this was something different.  This wasn’t sex and I wasn’t in control.  I was stripping for him as he sat there fully clothed.  I put my thumbs in the waistband, began to pull the fabric down.  I felt it slip over my ass, tug at my hard dick and made it bob up and down, over my knees, down around my ankles, one foot out then the other and they were off.  I dropped them too.  I looked up to him.  He shook his head.

“Such a messy boy,” he said.  “You would never let me make such a mess with my clothes.”

“I didn’t know what to do with them,” I said apologetically, “please, I’ll just pick-”

“Don’t bother, not right now, that’ll be one of your punishments later.  Right now I want you in the bathroom.  You’ve been at your desk all day and need a bath.”

He led the way.  I walked behind him with my dick bobbing with each step, through the hallway, into the bathroom.  He sat on the edge of the tub and turned the spigot, hot water poured out.  He plugged the drain and looked to me.  Without realizing it I had began to stand like I was ashamed.  There I was in front of my long time boyfriend and I was ashamed.  He adjusted the water.

“While we’re waiting I want you to stand with your hands behind your head and your feet apart.  Smoking is a bad and filthy habit. You’ve been a bad boy, very naughty.  If you’re going to grow up to be a man we’re going to have to regress you first so that we can make sure you deserve your privileges.  The first thing we’re going to do while the tub fills up is we’re going to cut your hair.”

“Wait I-”

“Are you being disobedient?  You already have a punishment for leaving your clothes on the floor and making such a mess.  Do you want to add to it?”

“No sir,” I mumbled.

“What was that?”

“No sir,” I said in a louder, clearer voice.

“Good,” he replied, “now let’s get that shaver.”

Being shaved was the easy part, all of my body hair, from head to pubes to toe, all fell on the floor.  He turned off the water after it had filled partially, looked back to me, motioned with his head for me to step into it.  I sunk down on my knees first, my butt cheeks opened and barely touched the water.  As my body adapted I sunk down into it until I was comfortable and I looked up to see him with a hand towel and bar of soap.  This was new.  I hadn’t used bar soap in ages.  I figured he intended to give me a thorough scrubbing.  He lathered up the bar until suds ran down over his wrists, down his forearms, and all of the way to his elbows.

“Open,” he said.

I knew at once what he meant.  He wanted to stick the bar of soap in my mouth.  It was the punishment I hated the most as a child.  I could take a spanking but soap, bleh, it tasted so bad.   I clenched my jaw and shook my head.

“Open,” he repeated as he moved it closer to my face. He pressed it against my lips, forced them apart and into my teeth.  That felt worse.  I opened my mouth and he stuck it inside.  I closed without biting down.  He shook his head.

“You’re only making it worse on yourself.  Now I’m going to have to give you an additional punishment for that mouth of yours.  I thought soaping it would do the trick but no, you have to refuse, well, I guess I’m going to have to think up something else, maybe a second spanking.”

“But-” I tried to speak with a mouthful of soap, the suds went down my throat and I choked a little, tried to spit it out but he held it there.

I could feel it on my tongue, a thick gunk, and the way it dissolved, filled the spaces under my molars.  My instinct was the pull in my cheeks to stop it from spreading but all it did was cause the suds to run down my throat.  It hit my stomach and I felt the urge to spit it out but he held it there so I just closed my eyes, let it happen.  I could feel it inside of me.  But it wasn’t just the soap, it was the feeling of being naked in the tub to our apartment, shaved, my mind was reeling but more than anything I felt this anger but all I could do was cry.  He pulled the soap from my mouth, my lips sputtered and I tried to spit more out.  He took hold of the back of my head and pulled me to his shoulder.  I cried and cried into his neck.  For a moment I felt relief, felt normal, but then he touched me, he touched my chest, slid it down over my stomach and for the first time he touched my penis.  And it was hard.

“Good boy,” he said, “but do you still want a cigarette?”

“Yes,” I said.

He pulled away from me and looked at me with a cross glare.  He raised the bar of soap again.

“You’ve been smoking for so long it’s ruined your teeth and I’m afraid I’m going to have to wash it out again.”  I squealed in fear.  But he continued to hold the back of my head and slowly, deliberately he moved the bar towards me and into my mouth.  “From now on that’s yes sir,” he said, “do you understand?”

“Yes sir,” I said around the bar in my mouth.

He pulled it out.

“What was that?”

“Yes sir,” I said.

“Good, I think we’re done with this for now.  Now we can put it to its more popular and more favorite use, getting your body clean.”

He touched my chest again and for a moment my body recoiled until it realized it had no place to go and instead I just sat there as he washed me.  Face, chest, arm pits, stomach, he washed them twice before he made me get up on my knees.  He washed my thighs first, then he washed my balls and my hard dick, and just when I felt enthused to try and push back against his hand for more pleasure he spanked me lightly on the butt and I opened my eyes to see he had an amused smirk on his face.

“This isn’t so bad,” he said.

“Yeah, but normally I’m the one who washes you,” I said.

He spanked me again.

“Sir,” I spat out.

He spanked me again.

“I’m sorry sir, normally I’m the one who washes you sir,” I said.

“Better,” he replied, “I know it’ll take some getting used to.”

Next was the shampoo, but since I didn’t have much hair on my head it was easy to do.  I rested my bum on my ankles as he finished washing off the soap.  I smiled.  He smiled.  But I could feel it, the craving for a cigarette.  I looked down into the water, then back up with my best puppy dog eyes.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I want a smoke, like really bad.  It’s been a couple of hours, just one, please sir.”

“Okay, we can do that,” he said, “after I get your dried off.”

He told me to stand then took a towel from the cabinet.  He dried me thoroughly, then had me step out before he wrapped it around my waist.  I could feel the knot on my hip and looked around for more clothing.  He put one arm around my shoulder and ushered me out into the living room where he picked up a bag.  He pulled out a brand new pack of white briefs.

“I don’t wear those,” I said, “sir.”

“Well, it’s these or that towel,” he said.

“What do you mean, sir?”

“No more smoking inside.  For tonight I’ll let you smoke on the balcony, but in the future you’ll have to go down to the parking lot to do it.  And you’re not allowed to litter, you have to save your butts.”  He pulled out a small, pink box.  It was for jewelry but now I’d be using it to collect the filters.  I groaned at it before I really thought about it.  He smirked.  “Normally I wouldn’t use pink to embarrass someone but in this case it’ll be cute.”

“Cute sir?”

“Well, for me, now have you decided is it going to be briefs or the towel?”

“For the balcony?  People will see me.”

“No laws will be broken.  You still want that cigarette and you can’t smoke inside.”

“Okay, the towel,” I said.

Briefs were too form fitting, I thought as I looked down to the towel only to realize it was one of the thin white ones and I could clearly see my penis against the cloth.  I groaned and asked for briefs but he shook his head.  I watched as he opened the pack of cigarettes.  I loved that feeling, opening a fresh pack and the smell of them, something like fresh raisins.  He took one out, then he walked me over to the sliding door and out onto the balcony.  It had gotten dark outside, the sun had set and it was probably ten o’clock at night but there were still a few people around.  We lived in those apartment buildings with the parking underneath in stalls.  There was a lane between the buildings but people were always walking by as the basketball courts were very popular.  I looked to him and he placed it between my lips.

“Oops, I forgot the lighter,” he said.

I moaned and he smacked my bum before walking off to get one.  There I stood on the balcony in just a towel with an unlit cigarette between my lips as I listened carefully for anyone to walk in front.  He came back a few moments later.  He held up the lighter and lit it for me.  It was a welcome feeling and yet to be standing there as I was, no pack in hand, no lighter.  He had done everything, it felt so humiliating, but in the end I felt I’d do almost anything for a drag.  He watched me intently.

“I’d give anything for a dry martini,” I said.

And without really thinking about it I had slipped out of the role of being subordinate to him as we stood in the partial darkness.  It was only when a car turned the corner and I was briefly caught in headlights that I looked down over myself and remembered the towel I was wearing and I saw him.  He wasn’t just staring at me.  He was waiting.

“Sir,” I said.

“Too late,” he replied and took the cigarette from my mouth.

I watched as he stubbed it out on the banister then held out the pink box towards me.  I took it, opened it, then watched as he placed the cigarette inside.  He promptly closed it and took the box out of my hands.  I looked him in the eyes as best I could.  He stared back.

“It’s not fair,” I said.

“You’re killing yourself.  How’s that fair to me?”

“But-”

And that’s when things took an unexpected turn.  He snatched the towel from around my waist and before I knew it I was down over his lap.  There I was, one grown man over another grown man’s lap naked and full exposed to all of our neighbors, the towel on the grating floor.  He made sure I was in place before he laid into me with his hand.  He gave me several hard, sharp spanks.  It was enough to put me back in my place.

“Please sir,” I begged.

“Please sir what?”

“I’m sorry sir, I didn’t mean to be a brat.  I know what I’m doing is wrong.  Please sir, can we go inside for this?”

He stopped spanking me.  His hand settled on my bum.  I could feel his fingers linger in my crack as he massaged my flesh.  Normally it would be the other way around.  Often for some trivial but intentional offense, something that we had talked about in correcting his behavior, but there I was naked and exposed.  He swatted me a few more times but when I started to unintentionally get louder with each one he stopped and pulled me from his lap.  I stood in front of him, my hand went back to feel my butt and it was already beginning to warm.  But worse than anything was my dick because I had left it exposed so I tried to cover it with one hand as I continued to rub with the other.  He shook his head then stood and pulled me by the wrist inside our apartment.  He closed the sliding doors behind us but in a way it was worse because now the room was lit and there I stood naked in front of glass.  He quickly closed the blinds to the door but I could still feel it, this kind of ghost, this feeling that I had been exposed, not just me, not just my penis, my shaved body, but my behavior and that my boyfriend spanked me.  He smirked to me then motioned with his finger for me to follow him to the couch where he sat and patted his lap.  I stepped to him, lowered myself, and he pulled me into position.

His hand on my butt, he stroked the sore flesh, cupped the curve of it, let me know just how naked and vulnerable I was to him.  He pulled back his hand and I knew it was coming, high over his shoulder there would be no stopping it.  He spanked me the first time and I let out a grunt.  The pain was negligible.  I barely felt it.  He struck again, then again and again, each time the feeling lingered a little longer and it spread.  There were two patches of pain on my butt, one for each cheek, but the pain spread through my body too, from my toes to my fingertips.  I breathed this quick, shallow gasps as I groaned, the pressure of my chest on his lap, I could feel myself as this weight, especially when I kicked up my feet and began to squirm.

“Keep still,” he said.

I froze for a moment, held my breath, and he laid into me some more until my hands were clenched into tight balls and my toes curled up, then he stopped and he lay his soothing hand on my bum.  I hadn’t begun to cry but I could feel it there lingering in me, this pain, not just physical but emotional.  He rubbed my butt carefully, the feeling that had spread through my body came back to the one spot for a moment.  He took hold of my arm and pulled me up to my feet.  I knew my face was red, my eyes were watery.  I looked down to him as I instinctively reached back to rub my cheek with one hand.  He smirked at me.

“But first,” he reached into the bag and pulled out the last thing.  It was a pacifier.  He held it up for me to see before he opened the package.

“What’s that sir?”

“It’s your new pacifier.  Instead of cigarettes you’re going to be sucking on this.”

“But sir-”

“I’m going to plant your feet in the corner until you’ve calmed down and guess what, that’s only round one.  Do you understand me?”

“Round one?” I pleaded, “sir,” I eked out.

“Bend down and open up,” he said.

I did.  He put the pacifier between my lips.

“This is your binky,” he said.  I groaned.  “Well, you still have your dirty clothes on the floor and we forgot your towel outside.  Go ahead and pick up your clothes and put them on the coffee table.”

I stepped away from him to where my clothes were.  I squatted down, fully aware of my balls hanging loose between my thighs, my cheeks parted and cool air hit my butthole.  I felt it again, this pain, and for a moment tears leaked out.  I wiped them away with the back of my hand before I picked up my clothes and set them on the table.  He cleared his throat and I knew at once that I had made a mistake so I carefully folded them, then put them back into place.  He got up and moved behind me, put a hand on my head and brushed over my hair.

“It’s okay boy, I’ll allow you that one mistake, but know that I expect better of you next time.  Are you ready for your second cigarette?”

Already, I thought, but the truth is I really needed one, especially a full one, so I nodded.  He took hold of my ear, pulled me up, then walked me to the corner.  He took one from the pack and held it where the walls met, then he pulled me right to it so my nose held it in place.  He rubbed my butt, rubbed my shoulders, rubbed my head.  It was so humiliating.  I began to cry.  When I tried to wipe away the tears he stopped me and told me, “hands at your side or on your head.”  My cigarette was right there but I couldn’t just smoke it.  It wasn’t mine.  Instead I had this pacifier, this binky in my mouth.

He walked away.  I heard him move through the apartment for the next ten minutes or so.  He put my clothes away, tidied up something or other, put the bags from the store away, then I heard it.  He was in the kitchen and he opened a drawer, moved some cooking utensils around.  He was looking for something.  I breathed deep through my nose and held my breath.  He was getting the spoon.  We had only used it a few times, well I had used it on him, just a little game when we were in the kitchen, but I heard the drawer slam closed and I knew he had it and he was going to use it on me.  He began to whistle as he walked back into the living room.  He set it down behind me on the coffee table, the familiar sound of wood on wood.  He walked over to where I stood and told me to take the cigarette I was holding up so I did.  He placed a hand on my shoulder to usher me back out to the balcony.

There I was completely naked, my butt red, my face red, and crying a little.  He took the pacifier out of my mouth, then the cigarette from my fingers and placed it between my lips.  He lit it.  I took a long drag, welcomed the feel of it, the way it burned and tasted, plus the rush of it.  He pulled me to him as he sat on one of the two chairs out there.  The last time it had been down over his lap for a spanking but this time he was being kinder, gentler as he pulled me along and he sat me on his knee.  I could instantly feel the pain in my butt though it wasn’t so bad, it was almost negligible the way my thighs held most of my weight.  His hand went to the small of my back and I carefully blew the smoke away from him.  He rubbed up my spine to my shoulders in this soothing way so I just relaxed, my knees wide, my arm went around his shoulders behind his head.  His other hand ran up my thigh, over where my pubes used to be and to my stomach where he slowly stroked until I stopped crying.

This time he let me smoke the whole thing and after he stubbed it out, then placed it in the pink box before replaced the binky in my mouth.  He led me back inside with the towel in hand.  He gave it to me and told me to take it to the bathroom hamper so I said, “yes sir,” and I began to move when he took hold of my arm.  “And bring back the bath brush,” he said.  I swallowed hard at that.  But my feet moved on their own.  I walked to the bathroom, put the towel in the hamper, retrieved the bath brush from inside the medicine cabinet.  It wasn’t until I got back and I saw him sitting there that I remembered the wooden spoon and there it was on the coffee table in front of him.  I walked to him, handed him the brush.  He patted the cushion next to him which took me by surprise, but it meant I wasn’t going to be spanked right away so I sat.  He reached to me, rubbed the back of my head, then he placed his arm around my shoulders.

“Smoking is more than a bad habit,” he said, “it’s dangerous.  You know it isn’t safe right bud?”

He took out the pacifier, set it on the table.

“Yes sir,” I said.

“So we’re going to try and break you of that habit, but I can see that you have some other bad habits as well so we’re going to work on those too.  You know I care for you right and I only want what’s best for you?”

“Yes sir,” I said.

“Good, because this next part is going to be very painful.  I know you’re going to feel like giving up, it’s going to be unbearable at times, but it’s also going to be good for you.  You need this.  I know you’re usually the spanker instead of the spankee but it’s time we dealt with these issues.  Do you understand?”

“Yes sir,” I replied.

He moved his hand up to the back of my head again, turned my head to face his.  I looked him in the eyes and for a moment I could see a little bit of pain, but then he became stoic as he looked at me and I felt it.  I felt his connection to me.  There I sat completely naked, but we were two adults, and yet I felt this need within me.  I wanted it.  I wanted to change my ways.  I wanted to be spanked.  I wanted to feel that pain and that relief.  He rubbed the back of my head and I knew he wanted to ask me again if I understood.  Instinctively I began to speak.

“Please sir, I know it’ll be painful but I need this,” I said, “I need to feel it.  I’ve been doing things so wrong for a while now, not just the smoking but that’s the most important part.  I know it’s important for me to change my ways.  I want you to spank me.”

He reached over with his other hand and wiped away some of the spilled tears with is hand before he pulled me back over his lap.  He adjusted himself and put me in place so that it was easy to hold my arms out of the way.  I felt him shift, his hand high in the air.  He struck me with the hair brush.  It was different than his hand.  His hand gave a little to the shape of my butt, the hairbrush did not.  Each time it pushed into my cheeks it dented the flesh.  Just within a few strokes the pain radiated out again, up my spine all of the way to my hands, all of the way to my toes.  He struck all over my round cheeks until I thought I couldn’t take anymore.  I began to cry.  I squirmed and moaned but he held me in place.

Just as I was about to disassociate from it he stopped.  My head throbbed, my body ached.  He pulled me out from under his arm, pulled me to my feet.  My hands went to my butt as I danced from foot to foot I rubbed away until the pain was almost gone then I felt it again.  My little dick and balls bounced back and forth as I shifted to try and find some comfortable spot.  There was none.  He picked up the pacifier as he stood so I opened my mouth.  I bit down on it.

“Back to the corner,” he said as he pointed the way.

I felt snot leaking from my nose so I wiped it with the back of my hand as I walked, then I carefully used the palms to wipe away tears.  My jaw began to jitter.  I put my nose in the corner, let my hands fall to my sides.  All over my body my skin turned pink.  I could feel it, this warmth all over me, it was so intense.  He got up, walked to me.  For a moment I thought he would touch me to try and comfort me but he didn’t.  He just stood there.  He watched me sulk for a moment, then he walked away.  I was alone.  I knew I couldn’t move from that spot.  And he let me stay there that time until my muscles began to ache, which wasn’t that long, then he came back and got me.  He led me back over to the couch, took out binky and put it on the table, swapped it for the spoon.  He pulled me down over his lap, this time he told me to plant my hands firmly on the ground which tipped me at an angle so that my butt and my thighs were vulnerable.  The spoon was quick and sharp.  I could no longer feel him move too much just to hit me.  It was little, recurring spikes of pain in my flesh as if I had been stuck by a thorn.

Over his knee, my hands planted firmly on the floor, I was beginning to feel the pain in my butt cheeks and I was covered in sweat.  It was everywhere on me, even the crack of my butt and right down at my asshole.  He was really taking to whacking my butt.  I shook my head, balled my feet, any little thing to remind myself that I was in control of my body, but I knew I wasn’t because there I was naked with my little dick and balls hung loose as I was being spanked.  He controlled every bit of it too.  He would stop when he wanted, not me, it wasn’t my choice.  He meant to make me feel pain and I knew it.  He stopped and for a moment I thought it was over, but then he rubbed my flesh.

“Now for this next set I want you to say, ‘thank you sir, may I have another sir’ and we’re going to do that until I’ve felt you’ve had enough.”

“Yes sir,” I said.

He spanked me and when my response didn’t come fast enough he did it again and harder.

“Thank you sir, may I have another sir!”

“Good start, let’s see how long you can keep that up,” he replied.

And that was exactly it.  It was this seemingly unending cycle.  I knew he wanted me to keep saying it, again and again, no matter how much my arms ached, no matter how my thighs throbbed, no matter how much my butt hurt.  He wanted to break me.  So I just kept saying it over and over even when my mouth went dry, when the words barely escaped my throat, until I was crying and heaving so much I couldn’t even form the noises in my chest.

Tears fell from my face and down onto my hands.  He stopped and pulled me up to him.  I lay on him, my head on his shoulders as I wept and heaved until I was empty.  He held onto me through all of it.  He held onto me as I trembled and shook.  He took hold of the back of my head and whispered soothing sounds into my ear.  I didn’t want a cigarette ever again at that moment, not if that was the price I’d pay.  He held me even when I fell asleep.
Some time later, I’m not sure how long, I awoke to find myself on my side on the couch with my feet on his lap, a thin blanket over me.  I turned over and looked down to him.  He almost looked as if he’d been spanked too and I knew at once he felt this pain for me for what he’d done.  I couldn’t quite say it but as I moved to him, as I sat up he leaned to me and we kissed on the lips as he stroked my face. When he started to pull away I pulled him closer and down on top of me.  He laid fully clothed on me, a blanket between us as we kissed.   I pulled his shirt from him and he was quick to take off his pants as I wrapped the blanket around both of us and pulled him into me again.  I could feel my hard dick and his as well but neither of us wanted sex right then, we just wanted to hold each other.  We kissed until we got tired, then he rolled me onto my side again and pressed his body along mine.  We fell asleep together and for the first time in a long time I felt safe and happy, and I didn’t feel the need to smoke, at least not right then.

Thursday, January 31, 2019

PIG - Pretty Important Guy

Pretty
Important
Guy

Content Advisory: Contains scenes of non-consent, humiliation, spanking, finger penetration, masturbation, ejaculation, and degradation.

Being a large man has its benefits and problems, but one of the benefits is most people move out of my way, especially smaller dudes. I don't push people around, far from it, but it's usually just easier for them to move, so when I rounded the corner in the locker room to find a short, college guy there I just expected him to move.

Instead he stood there and looked me in the eyes, not being one to back down I stared back until he poked me in the belly and broke into laughter. There I stood in my underwear, white t-shirt tucked into my briefs on my way to the shower and this little guy poked me.

"I'm sorry, you look too much like the dough boy," he said, "laugh for me."

But I just stood there, embarrassed and angered, my hands balled into fists, my face turned red, but I just stood there with my towel over my shoulder as I tried to not yell or punch him. He poked me again, laughed more. I stepped closer and got in his face.

"Little brats like you need a spanking, that's the problem of the youth today, no spankings, no corporal punishment, can't even grab hold of someone in case it goes on the internet."

"Who is going to give it to me? Not you dough boy, just look at you, I'd whoop your ass."

Our threats had been made and for a moment neither of us yielded, but then somehow he declared himself victor and walked away. I shrugged it off and mostly forgot about it.

A few days later when I was back at the gym and working out on the bench press when two figures stepped beside me. I looked up to see the young man, ready to exercise in gym shorts and tank top, he stood next to a tougher looking friend who had tattoos.

"My friend wants to talk to you," the young man said.

"Look, I don't want any trouble, just let it be," I said.

"Oh, he doesn't want trouble," they mocked.

I sat up, wiped the sweat from my brow and looked to them as they waited with crossed arms.

"Give me both of your names, I'm reporting you for harassment."

"Roger," the first one said.

"Elliot," the second replied.

"Wait right here then," I said as I stood.

Even just by a few feet away I was twice their size, but the second one, Elliot, had a look in his eyes so I tried to stare back. He bit his lip and puffed up his shoulders so I flexed my arms a little, the only muscle that's impressive for me.

"Whatever," he said, and they both walked away.

I stood confused, eventually I went back to my routine, when I finished I went back to the locker room. I stripped off my exercise clothes, put my towel over my shoulder, and I was headed to the showers when I heard that familiar giggle. The locker room was otherwise empty, one of those off times during the regular business day, and I just felt it, this panic in my shoulders I hadn't felt since I was a boy. I'd have to confront them both, right there, in my underwear at a public gym.

"Where you going fat boy?"

It was Elliot. The words stuck in me like pins. It even made me wince. I turned to see them. Roger was in shorts stained with sweat. Elliot stood there shirtless, his muscled chest covered in tattoos.

"No, I told you he's the dough boy," Roger replied.

"What is it? Are you a fat boy or a dough boy?"

"Neither, just leave me alone."

"That depends, are you going to move out of our way from now on?"

I turned and started to walk away.

"If I have to come after you I'm going to give you that spanking you threatened to give my friend yesterday. Now get back over here and deal with us like the men we are."

I turned and walked right up to them, yeah I was an old man standing in front of them in my underwear, but I'd stopped being embarrassed about my body. Elliot looked me up and down. Roger held back laughter.

"Do you think you're a tough guy?" Elliot asked, "because I'm tougher."

"Both of you deserve a spanking," I replied.

That's when I made my second big mistake. I tried to grab hold of Elliot. I don't even know what I'd do after, I just reached for him. That's when he grabbed my pinky and bent it back. I cried out in pain, tried to get away, but as I turned he twisted which brought me to my knees. I whimpered. They laughed.

"I could beat you up old man, give you a spanking, but I'm not going to-"

"Thank you," I pleaded as he still held my finger.

"-but that's as long as you do something for me."

"Anything," I said as I expected he wanted money.

"Anything?"

"Did dough boy just offer anything?"

He let go of my finger and I cradled it.

"Assume the position over this bench," he ordered.

I did. There I was at my gym in the locker room over a bench with my big ass stuck out and vulnerable. Roger took hold of the waistband and pulled the cloth snug over my cheeks. Elliot ran his pointer finger between them to let the cloth settle into my crack and let me know just how vulnerable I was. They both laughed then they both swatted me at the same time, one used his left hand, the other his right, both cheeks felt it.

It had been a long time since I had been spanked. At first it didn't feel like anything, just these flat hands that made this clapping sound, but as they continued to strike me, after the shock had worn off, I realized the pain built up. Not just in my butt, my hands and knees against the hard, tiled floor, my belly against the wooden bench.

One of them took hold of my underwear and pulled it to my knees. There I was on all fours, the fabric stretched between my open thighs, my little dick and shrunken balls hung down to feel the cool air. My cheeks slightly open, they continued to slap them, each hit affirmed their shape and size. My butt was no longer this extra part of me, this function, a tool, something between my legs and my back.

My butt was in pain and it was getting worse. They spanked every inch of soft flesh, each impact confirmed the shape, the size of my butt and its ability to absorb the blow. They spanked me until the skin felt warm and tingly, little points of pain that radiated through my body. They spanked me until I lost control of my muscles and they twitched and spasmed without my control. They turned that part of my body against me. And I began to cry.

Cold droplets leaked from between my eyelids and down to my lips. I could taste the saltiness of my tears, my nose became stuffy. I had lost control, not only of the situation, a situation I could have walked away from, but of myself. This ball of pain in my stomach that I had unknowingly been carrying around with me, this tight ball of fear, it was like the breeding ground for snakes, it wriggled and squirmed up through me into these howls of desperation. The two young men finally stopped and I fell into this quiet sob, fully aware of just how humiliated I had been, unable to run I just lay there.

Roger stepped in front of me and squatted down, took hold of the hair on my head to turn it and look me in the eyes. He wiped the tears from my face with his free hand then licked them from his fingers as he laughed at me. This big grin on his face he wiped up more tears then put his fingers to my lips. With one last grasp at my pride I tried to refuse.

"This finger is going in your hole boy," he said, "the only lubricants are your tears and your spit."

I opened my mouth but he didn't push in all of the way, no he touched my lips as if to confirm I had opened them just for him and his finger. He ran it along the shape, smooth across the bottom.  He played with that little bump in the middle of my top lip.

When he touched his finger to my tongue it was salty and bitter, I wanted to spit it out or bite down on it, but I knew I was too vulnerable, too defeated, so he pressed inside all of the way to my throat. That's when I realized he didn't just want the spit from my mouth but the mucous from my throat as I began to choke he held me in place by my hair.

Two fingers, his two fingers, across my tongue, back and forth until I felt like I was going to pass out from lack of air and exhaustion. He let go of my hair, pulled his fingers from my face, but I just laid there over the bench. He walked around behind me, put his finger between my butt cheeks, right to the hole, and he pressed into that ring of flesh, right into me, inside, all of the way to his last knuckle of his pointer finger.  Slowly he pulled out, for a moment I thought it was over, then he pushed two inside, the pointer and the middle, both went deep and wide, wider than anything I had ever stuck up there. Wider than my own finger, wider than a thermometer. I let out a whimper and he pulled out.

He was done with me. They were done with me. Or so I thought. Roger pulled me from the bench and let me fall to the floor on my side, then he rolled me onto my back where he sat on my chest and took hold of my nipples and pulled on my soft breasts.

"Squeal piggy, I want to hear you squeal."

This little piggy squealed. He twisted and pulled on my nipples and soft man boobs until the pain became something else, this inescapable force. He only stopped when he realized I had stopped reacting, then he slapped my face and commanded me to open my eyes, which I did. I looked up to see him, his small framed body sat upon me in victory. He pulled down the front of his shorts to show me his erect dick trapped by the jock, the bulbous head peaked out over the waistband. He looked into my eyes as he pulled the pouch down under his balls to show me just how big and stiff it was. He took hold of it, stroked it, with just a few movements of his hand he bucked his hips and warm, creamy ejaculate covered my face. Elliot stepped beside him and looked down at me, let a long string of spit descend from his lips to mine.

There I lay on my back, covered in their fluids, my stretched out underwear at my ankles, exhausted and gasping for air. Roger fed me his cum from my face, then stood and tucked his dick back inside his jock where he adjusted it before he pulled the front of his shorts up. He was done with me. They were done with me, but somehow, somewhere deep in my soul I knew I wanted more.


Tuesday, October 30, 2018

By the Moonlight

Personal Note: I'm not sure if this falls under dubious consent or the darker rape fantasy as the sodomy happens against the character's otherwise stated consent, and that is where I take my own creative liberties with the story.

When you go to college out of state and your first return home is Christmas break, well, that can be a bit distressing, at least it was for me, because I had changed in those few months.  Not changed so much as was freed, that’s the word.  I felt free.  I didn’t have to worry about the other kids at school and my parents always being over my shoulder.  It was just me.  When I slept, what I ate, where I went, and who I saw, they were all my choices.  I could walk around campus in the middle of the night, order pizza at 3 A.M., whatever I wanted to do as long as I had the funds, as long as I had the nerve.

Yeah, there were many things still to do.  I hadn’t conquered anything, but coming home, that just felt weird.  It felt as if I were traveling at a different speed and when I got home everything was going a little slower.  People around town didn’t walk with the same kind of enthusiasm.  And my parents, it was weird.  It was like they put up with it for a few days and slowly but surely they ground me back down to be able to exist in their little world, my little hometown.  I longed to get back to college and regretted it a little, not coming back so much as having to spend all my time, all the stupid, boring time I had to spend there around the house, around the town.

And it was a boring town.  The movie theater, the mall, good coffee, anything, was all thirty miles away.  It was like they existed in a parallel universe.  At first I had thought I’d get out everyday, adventure around and see something, try to look at my town, the towns around it, as some alien world and I would be the researcher, try to gather up experiences and sights to store them for some kind of story.  I tried for a few days, but then my parents complained about the second car always being gone, then they complained about how many miles I was putting on it.  A trip everyday became a trip every other day, then none at all for a two days and I just sat around the house in my sweatpants and did nothing, didn’t shower, nothing.

Sometime around noon as I sat on the couch for the fifth day with my father in his recliner eating pretzels and drinking beer it felt like that was the entirety of my existence.  I knew when shows were scheduled, had plans to binge watch ‘80s horror movies, and it just felt like there was nothing else in existence when my father cleared his throat and spoke up.

“I’m surprised you’re not out with your friends,” he said.

“Naw, I haven’t really talked to them.  They’re all doing stuff with their families.”

It was true.  We had mostly stayed in contact via social media and all of them were busy being these idols, these statues, these fine items to be shown off to grandparents, aunts and uncles.  They all smiled for the camera in their selfies but I knew the pain behind the eyes.  I was fortunate in that my family, my parents weren’t anything like that.  We always had this thing of sticking together, not really liking our extended family.  My uncle and his son would be over for Christmas Eve and we all had to rally at my grandmother’s for Christmas day, but we didn’t go to family functions.  I guess we were the black sheep.  I wasn’t sure which would be more miserable and I was about to check my phone for the tenth time when my mother left the room and my father made a show of reaching into his pocket and pulling out his wallet.  He opened it and I saw several bills inside.  He was loaded for the holidays, probably had to stuff a few cards and get some gifts.

“Take this, here, take this,” he whispered.

I checked make sure my mother was busy in the kitchen and retrieved the bill, a hundred bucks, just like that.  I looked at him suspiciously.

“Don’t tell your mother how much I gave you.  I told her I was going to give you some but not how much, so that’s our little secret.  Go get a shower, put on some fresh clothes, and get the hell out of the house, the keys are hanging by the door for my car.  Don’t put a scratch on it and don’t drink and drive.”

“Thanks dad,” I said.

“Maybe get yourself laid,” he replied.

That’s fathers, he had this weird way of saying the completely wrong thing, some kind of joke, and it was like I didn’t want to see my father that way.  But it barely felt like anything.  I had a hundred bucks to spend on myself, just for me, and there was no expectation to keep it.  I showered, put on new clothes, and grabbed the keys by the door.  In twenty minutes I as out of the house and chipper as I walked to my fathers 1998 Cadillac.  He had kept it in mint condition, bitched about the gas, complained about the cost for parts, but he always parked in the garage in the winter time, kept up with all its needs.  His relationship to the car was like his relationship to my mother.

Anyway, as soon as I got in there was the first bite, a nearly empty tank of gas.  I sighed and knew it would take a chunk of my money just to get out of town and depending on how far I drive it would cost more to get back.  I groaned and pulled out of the driveway trying to keep myself upbeat by tapping on the steering wheel as I listened to the radio.  Within a few streets I found myself aimlessly wondering as I looked for a gas station with the cheapest price.  That was my father’s thing too, drive just to save money.  Well, I was running low and worried about making it to any gas station when I saw one that I had been to rarely over the years.  It was closer to the national forest than anything else, kind of the fill up spot for people with ATVs and dirt bikes.  It was a dirty, grungy place, and I didn’t like the idea of pulling in there but then my fear of running out of gas overwhelmed me so I did.  I pulled in beside the pump, looked down at the hundred dollar bill and bit my lip as I contemplated just how far I could stretch the money when there was a tap on the glass.  It was a mechanic with a rag in his hand, young, about my age, holy, it was Tim.  I rolled down the window and shut off the car and he smiled back at me.

Tim had been my best friend all through elementary and middle school.  We used to do everything together, spend weekends at each other’s house, ride our bikes up and down every street, but then we had a falling out between junior high and high school.  Not a falling out so much as a disconnect.  My parents got me busy with volunteer work and working at the golf course as a caddy for a bit of extra cash, and Tim, he just kind of went his own way.  I heard that he ended up in juvie hall for a month or so because he pulled a knife on someone.  Then he was always fighting with his parents and teachers.  He went the vo-tech route.  I went the college prep route.  I’d hear stories about him but I actually kind of ignored them as if I didn’t want to know, didn’t want to face the fact that I wanted to help him but was powerless to do so because my family, my friends, wouldn’t like it.  Eventually I heard he just stopped coming his senior year.

“It’s been a long time,” he said.

“No kidding, it’s been years,” I replied, “I heard you dropped out.”

“Kicked,” he said.

“Too bad, well, but you’re working here,” I said.

“Yeah, it’s a job.  So what are you up to today?”

“Not much, just cruising around I guess.  My father gave me a hundred bucks to spend on myself.  I’m trying to figure out how far it’ll stretch.”

“Heard that,” Tim said as he leaned against the car.  “So uh, not going out and meeting up with your friends.  I know you were popular in high school.”

“Not popular, just social,” I said, “but naw, they’re all busy with family and stuff.  We don’t really do that sort of thing.  I’ve been trying to adventure around but kind of stopped doing it.  The hundred bucks may not get me far but it got me off the couch.”

He laughed at my joke and I laughed a little too.  He looked me over, looked the car over.  I looked him over, motorcycle boots, worn jeans that clung to the angles of his body, an old mechanic’s shirt with no sleeves, bigger muscles than I remembered, bigger muscles than I expected.  He leaned a little more and his shirt ran up giving me a peak of his jeans that hung loose to reveal the band of his underwear, briefs.  He still wore briefs just like me.  And just as I was about to imagine him in just those briefs he spoke up.

“Do you get high?”

“What?”

I had heard him but just the mention of getting high, of breaking the law, well it made me perk up and I looked around.  Was this some kind of setup?  Was he undercover, a snitch?  I looked him the eyes and tried to determine just how real the offer was and then if I wanted to do it.  I wanted to do it.  But I was also afraid.  Cops, my parents, and just the thought of breaking the law made me feel like I would go to jail for the rest of my life.

“Do you, get high?”

“No, but uh, I might be interested.”

“Cool, I’ll fill ‘er up and come back in two hours.  I know a guy.”

And like that it was done.  He filled up my tank, I paid him, and drove away with my change.  I drove around town again, stopped at the convenience store, browsed through the toy section of the local dollar store, and debated if I should go back.  This fear in me, this fear of getting caught, made me walk on my heels.  But this feeling of doing it, this rush of danger, made me walk with my shoulders high.  I was a mess, an awkward, gangly, weird kid who just kept repeating, I can’t believe I found Tim again after all these years and we’re going to get high.  He’s going to get weed.

And that was kind of the best part of Tim, the unpredictability.  He was a person of single intent, like me a hedonist in the best sense of the word, but also something else, willing to do the things people aren’t supposed to do, willing to break the rules and break the law.  That was Tim.  That was why I loved him an why I feared him.  I debated it from every angle, even considered talking him out of it, just driving around together and talking about old times, but in the end I gave in to it.  I gave into going back there and picking him up, getting weed, and maybe even getting high.

Two hours later I picked him up and he gave me directions out of town as the sun began to set.  Soon I was driving in the dark and one side road turned into a dirt road and for a long time I wondered if he even knew where he was taking us until we reached an old farmstead and he told me to pull in front of the house.  I looked around and saw there were no signs of life.  No lights in the house, no dogs, no domestic animals of any kind.  He walked to the porch and turned back to me.

“Is this your parents’ house?” I asked.  “Are you renting it?”

“Something like that,” he said.

And he walked up the steps and entered the house without even using a key.  The place was mostly empty, a few pieces of furniture, but the bookshelves were empty, no TV.  I followed behind him and for a moment I thought we were just trespassing on some random farm when he led me down some steps into an unfinished basement.  We walked to the farthest corner to a sink basin large enough to hold a person sitting in it, well a small person, but still.  He turned on the water and stripped off his shirt, then began to wash himself.

At first I was okay with it, just his chest, his stomach, but then he began to really wash his armpits, soap them up and clean them off.  When he was done he threw the towels into the corner where I saw a pile of them.  He must just throw them away, well into the corner, when he’s done with them, I figured.

“Do you want a drink?  It’s cold water, from the well.  They never had city water out here so it still works.”

“Do you know if it’s safe?”

“Who cares?  It hasn’t killed me yet,” he said.

He motioned for me to drink with my hands so I did. Water ended up spilling down the front of my shirt and we laughed about it, but I did it.  Then he motioned for me to pay attention before he stepped to the door to the well and he took a key from his pocket and unlocked this little padlock, set it aside, pulled a board back, and opened it.

There it was, light.  There in the corner of the well room he had three marijuana plants, the walls were covered in tin foil, and two fluorescent lights powered by a line that ran up some steps and out into the yard somewhere.

“Where are you getting the power from?”

“Solar,” he said, “my weed is organic and solar grown, almost completely natural.”

“When did you start caring about that shit?”

“I don’t.  I just like bragging,” he said.

“So like, you grow your own?”

“Yep,” he said.  “Want a hit?”

*****

A full moon, a few clouds, we looked out over the field and back to the barn about a hundred yards away.  It was quiet out there, no cars going up and down the road, just us.  A little bit of weed, a few cans of beer, I was buzzing pretty good as we sat out on that old bail of hay at the end of the field.

“Why’d you bring me out here?”

“Well, at first because I hadn’t seen you in years and with you off at college, well, we probably won’t stay friends.  You’ll get a job or whatever, but I’ll be stuck here in this little town so we might as well have some good memories.”

“Cool,” I replied.

“But now that we’re out here, I keep thinking about something,” he said.

I could tell he wanted to say something to me.  Was is this?  What did he want from me?  Did he want the same things I wanted?

“I keep thinking about one of the last times we hung out and I dared you to streak from your porch to mine.  It was a legitimate dare but you chickened out.”

“I didn’t chicken out.  I would have been arrested and that’s one of the rules of truth or dare, you can’t get the person arrested, no permanent scars, no tears.”

“Aw, it would have been fine, one minute, you’d ran back and forth all of the time between our houses,” he said, “well, anyway, would you do it tonight?”

“What?”

“Finish that dare,” he said.

“Here?”

“Why not?”

“Because we’re not kids anymore, besides isn’t there a statute of limitations to dares?”

“Chicken,” he mocked, then began to make chicken sounds.

“Okay, I’ll do it,” I said.

“Really?  Let’s see it.”

Immediately I had second thoughts, there was this feeling in my stomach.  I was half drunk, half stoned, and he was right there.  He looked to me, cocked his eye at me.  Slowly I pushed up a little from the bail of hay, stood there beside him, and began to undress.  He took my shirt, my undershirt, my shoes, my socks, and my jeans.  I stood there in my briefs and he looked me over.  I took off my underwear, cupped my dick and balls in my hands, and turned away.  I walked half the distance and I suddenly realized that with that full moon I was completely visible out there.  I turned and walked back but didn’t see him sitting on the bail of hay.  He took my clothes, I thought.  He’s stranded me out here naked, but then I saw his head stick up from behind the bail of hay.  He stepped out and in front of me, completely naked, his dick hung loose, balls like a sack of jewels.  He stood before me unashamed, completely casual.  And there was only one thing on my mind.

“Where’s my clothes?” I asked.

“Safe, with mine,” he said.

“What’s going on?”

“I figured you’d be too chicken shit so I thought I’d do it with you.”

He walked to me, stepped beside me and I turned to look at that barn now farther away than I had initially thought.  He started to walk like it was a stroll down the road.  At first I noticed the way his dick bounced from side to side, then the farther away he got the way his ass muscles shifted with each step.  He got some distance between us and I looked around for my clothes.  I knew he had hid them where I couldn’t find them so I started to walk after him, faster to catch up, then I slowed and walked beside him still cradling my nuts and my dick.

The blades of grass felt strange under my feet.  I was completely aware of what we looked like, but the worst part was that I was the scared one.  I still covered myself.  So I took my hands away, tried to walk normal.  My balls bounced against my thighs, my dick swayed from side to side because I had a little bit of a chub going on that I couldn’t control.  We made it halfway, past where I had gotten to, and this wind blew across the field.  It felt as if it had wrapped around my entire body like a string or a scarf, then it was pulled across every part of me and gone.  My dick stuck out from my body and I stopped and looked down to it, covered it as best I could with it pressed up against my thigh.  He stopped, turned to me, and laughed.  It wasn’t a cruel laugh.  It was a kind laugh, as if there was some joke I was missing out on and he wanted to share.

“There’s no one around and I don’t care if you got a hard on for me,” he said.

“It’s not you,” I replied, “it’s, it’s this air, and being naked.  I haven’t been able to jerk off since I got home.  It’s weird, you know, with your parents a few rooms away.  I never used to think about it, but now, I just can’t.”

“Well, there’s no one around now, so let me see it,” he said with a smirk.

I took my hands away, my hard dick stuck out from me and a little to the left.  He turned away and started walking so I followed behind him, this time a little behind.

When we got to the barn and touched it I was fully prepared to turn and run back to the bail of hay and grab my clothes, get dressed, but then he opened the door to the barn and stepped inside.  I looked around, considered my options, then followed.  I stepped onto the old, rough concrete floor, the smell of hay still lingered there after all the time of being abandoned.  Tim led me down the aisle, paused at little things here, a saw horse, a bit of hose attached to a pipe sticking out of the wall, and slow as if to draw out the time I was naked and hard.  He walked from stall to stall as if checking on something, then finally we ended up at the back door again.  I readied myself to run but he put a hand on my shoulder and stopped me.  He stepped out first, motioned for me to follow, and he walked so I walked.

Any little sound, the hoot of an owl, the distant sound of a car engine, a semi-truck engine as it tried to climb the mountain roads, and I thought we’d be discovered.  This was too good to be true.  But we weren’t.  We reached the bail of hay and I scratched at myself, waited for him to retrieve our clothes but he just stood there beside me.

“Are you ready for this?”

“What,” I said.

He took my hand and started to run so I ran just to keep up.  There we were two young men, naked and running through the field.  His limp dick bounced and so did my hard dick, though a little less, but we just ran all of the way to the end of the field where the woods were.  I tried to turn back but he pulled me along the fence line to a spot where there was an opening.  He pulled me through it and into the woods, then we ran again into the trees, branches scraped across our skin, leaves and things crushed under our feet.  This is what it must have been like to be primitive man, I thought, so free, so naked and running around.

He took me down to a creek that we followed until we found where it started, a small waterfall, and I could tell at once that it would be the deepest part, just a few feet, maybe up to our waists, but deep enough to conceal my raging boner.  I jumped into the water first, felt it wrap me up in its coolness, and swam a few feet.  Tim let out a yell and jumped in behind me.  I turned and shushed him but he waved it off.

“What if someone hears?”

“We’re so far away from anyone, besides I come out here all of the time,” he said.

“But we’re naked,” I said.

“So what?  Do you really think there’s some cop around every corner?  Not a chance, no way, it’s just us, and nature.”

He let his knees go loose like I had and began to bob there in the water in front of me.  He moved back and forth and it became like this little game, this challenge.  He went left then right, my foot slipped on the mud and got around me, as I struggled to recover my footing he got up behind me so that when I got to my feet he was in full contact with my body, his chest against my back, his arms under mine, around me, held me, his hips behind mine, his thighs against mine, his feet on either side of mine, and his penis, his hard penis was between my thighs.  And for a moment I almost cried out in surprise when he put his fingers in my mouth with one hand and took hold of my hard penis with the other.  I could feel his fingers against my tongue, creek water dripped down the back of my throat.  He held me for a long time until I calmed and came to my senses.  I tried to speak out but he shushed me with these little sounds as he kissed at my ear and down my neck.  I was on edge.  He turned me to face him.  Our hard dicks pointed at one another he took mine in hand, whacked at it with his just to show me how much bigger his was.  He pulled me into a kiss and stuck his dick between my thighs.  I wanted him so bad but he pulled my head away by my hair.

“Not yet,” he said, “you don’t deserve to cum just yet.”

By the time we reached the bail of hay we were both almost completely dry, and my dick had gone soft but I had that need, that carnal need to be satisfied.  And it was going to be over too soon, I hated the idea of getting dressed and it ending so when he didn’t stop for our clothes and he kept pulling me to the barn I knew it wasn’t over.  He pulled me through the field, I slipped and scurried, and he just kept pulling me until he had me in there and he closed the gated door behind us.  He took hold of my dick as I stood there.

“I feel so naughty,” I said.

“Do you want me to punish you?  Because I can punish you,” he said.

“What did you have in mind a little spanking?” I asked coyly.

“Better,” he said.

He led me, our hard cocks stuck out in front of us, he led me to the barn where he pulled out this old saw horse.  He made me drag it into the aisle and position it over a drain.  He stroked his dick as he walked around me, ordered me to lay over it.  He tied my hands, tied my ankles, and I was stuck there.  I pulled at the twine, felt the way its fibers hung loose and tickled my hands and heels.  I was bent over, my ass cheeks parted, my dick hung down, and he groped me, tickled my hole, then he left me there for a moment.  I heard him leave the barn and I realized just how alone I felt, how vulnerable.  I felt this breath stick in my lungs, then I heard his feet, the door closed, and he walked to me.  I looked down to see his shoes, looked up to see him stroke his hard dick.  He had a belt and pair of underwear in his other hand.

“Open your mouth,” he said.

He squatted down in front of me, slapped me a few times until I opened my mouth.  He stuffed the briefs inside and I immediately tried to spit them out.  He snapped the belt, my dick twitched.  I saw him stroke it.  I shifted, felt my own dick rub against the wood.  He stepped behind me.  He beat my ass, the novelty was gone in an instant and yet I wanted to do it for him, and because it felt so surreal and fun in this weird sort of way.  One then the other, back and forth, thwack after thwack, I cried out and he kept at me until I managed to work the briefs out of my mouth.  I told him to stop or I’d scream.

“So scream,” he said, “let me hear it, really cry out in pain.”

I started to scream.  And he kept beating me.  Until my ass felt like a bulb left on for hours, a piece of bread just out of the oven.  I screamed until my lungs were sore and my voice cracked.  I broke down, tears ran out from my eyes into my hair, snot just there on my lip.  He stroked himself and walked around me, the occasional tap against my butt cheeks.  That’s when he moved to my thighs and I felt this resurgence, this second wind, and started to struggle again.  My body shook, my legs were uncontrollable, my ass twitched, and he moved to my ankles, untied them.
He told me to lift up my feet and took hold of my ankle, then he whipped the bottom of my foot with his belt.  It stung.  He did it again and I was afraid I’d never be able to put my foot down again.  My toes curled and it really started to hurt, I was holding my breath more, and that’s when he switched to the other foot.  Back and forth, my ass, and my feet, until I was raw.  He had me.  I was completely broken, and that’s when I felt him at my asshole.

“Is that your dick?” I squealed.

“Just my finger,” he said.

“Oh no, your dick is going to hurt more,” I said.

“And you’re going to love it.”

He stroked his dick a little as he sucked the finger of his other hand before he pressed it back against my hole.  He kept at me like that until he got the first digit inside of me, then the first knuckle.  He stood and touched his dick to my hole, too tight, he let it slide up the back of me and I felt the full length of him measured out from my hips to along my spine.  It was big, long, and thick.  He swiped it back down, pressed the tip at my hole, then down my taint to my balls.  His dick touched mine.

“Are you ready for it college boy?”

“Please,” I said.

He spanked me and I pleaded for more.  He ran his fingers along my body as he walked around to my head where he squatted and stuck his dick to my lips.  It was too big.  I tried to shake it off.

“I’m sticking this dick up your ass and you better get it real slick and wet because that’s the only lubricant we got tonight, just a little spit.  What’s it going to be?”

I opened my mouth and wasn’t prepared for it to slip right along my tongue to my throat where I began to choke immediately.  Tears came to my eyes, spit squished out from between my puffy lips that had swelled with desire and friction.  He went right to the balls, I felt them on my top lip.  And I began to choke so he pulled out.  He let me breath for a moment, his hands on my stomach as I tried to suck in just a little bit of air.  He stuck it back into my mouth, between my teeth, he fucked my face as I hung bent in half.  I pulled at the twine, kicked out my feet, but he had me. 

And when he decided he’d had enough of my face, I was thankful for the gobs of spit, the strands that connected us for a moment before he walked behind me.  He pressed that dick against my hole and I just let go.  I screamed and he pushed into me as deep as he could.  He fucked me, more and more, gobs of sweat dropped from his lips as little welcome acts of kindness and humiliation.  He spanked at my thighs, spanked at my ass.  I gave myself over to him, to it.

We were connected, not just physically but something else, he had known my pain of blind obedience and he was able to manifest it.  There I was tied down and we were rutting in an old barn like animals, and it felt like my life, the pointlessness, the emptiness of my life of being good, being normal, trying to blend.  He had me.  My old friend had me and I cried for him, gave my body over to him, he broke me just like my life had broken me, and that’s when I felt it.  I felt this incredible sensation of freedom because it felt like that lie had been uncovered that if I just go along, just do as I’m told then this is what it felt like on the inside.

I felt my dick spasm, an orgasm of pleasure and pain unlike any other pulled at the ends of my body like a stretched rubber band, I could feel it leaving me, this squirt of goo, and it was like my body was restored, complete, until I became conscious of him on top of me.  His sweat covered body slipped over mine until he grabbed hold of me and fucked me harder until he pushed inside as far as he could go.  I felt his dick there, this fullness, and there was this spasm from him, this sensation, and it was over.  I went limp, let the darkness take me.

The next morning I awoke to find myself face down with him wrapped around me on top of me.  I stirred a little and tried to push him away but he was already awake.  He held me there.  I struggled but he held me.  He kissed me on the neck and told me to give up.  I didn’t.  He told me again.  I struggled.  He spanked me, pressed into me, and I let go, I relaxed under him.  He spanked me again playfully and walked away to the back of the barn, opened the door and I looked to see him pissing.  He shook it off, then walked over to me.

“That was incredible,” I said as I lay on my back and looked up to him.

“I always knew you were a little masochist, always so obedient, you had to love pain,” he said.

It wasn’t about being good or bad.  It was about my guilt.  And he knew how to take it away.

Monday, September 10, 2018

Johnny Seed Ch 04 - Savior




No matter how many reasons there was to go Johnny felt guilt as he
stood along the on ramp for the highway because some part of him
believed, some part of him knew, that if he just went home, if he just
laid low, and maybe even hid somewhere, that he’d be okay, it would be
okay.  But okay wasn’t enough to make him stop.  Okay wasn’t enough to
hold him.  So he stood there under the morning sun with his thumb out
hoping for a ride and when a truck stopped and picked him up he was
grateful.  That bit of guilt shrunk a little more with each mile and
so by fifty miles out of town he was starting to feel pretty good
until the driver told him to get out because he was going into town.
Johnny hopped out with his bag in tow and walked to the shade of some
trees in a small turn around area.  He slung the bag over one shoulder
and waited.

Cars passed by but no one stopped and at first it was annoying until
he started to think about who those people were.  They were mostly
mothers and fathers and he was a teenage boy trying to bum a free
ride.  He shifted from foot to foot to redistribute his weight as the
minutes turned into almost two hours.  That’s when the sun disappeared
behind some clouds and he didn’t take notice of it until he heard the
crack of thunder and rain fell down onto him and all around.  It
wasn’t something he had really noticed before, the way the road
changes from a kind of gray color to jet black, the way the air cools,
and the feeling of being pelted by lots of little droplets, ice cold
droplets that soaked his hair, his shirt, his shoes, and even his
jeans.  He tried to hide under different trees but none of them were
good cover so he finally went back where he could be seen and sat on
his bag.

There was a distant rumble he mistook for thunder at first, but it was
persistent, a kind of growl of some beast sped towards him.  He looked
up from his hands to the road where he saw a single light cutting
through the sheets of rain.  He stuck out his thumb.  The growl became
a roar that brushed over his skin as it passed and he dropped his hand
and looked to his shoes, eighty dollars he didn’t have.  But then he
heard the beast nearly go quiet and he looked up to see the driver
turn around to head back in his direction.  He jumped to his feet as
it passed him again and for a moment he was heart broke that it was
just someone fooling him until the driver turned around a second time
and approached him at a slower speed.

“Ever ride before?”

He wanted to lie.  He wanted to say anything to get out of this
predicament and yet he felt the truth force its way out of him.

“No,” he replied.

“Well, just climb on and hold tight.”

So he did.  He climbed onto the back of the motorcycle and clung to
his savior, perhaps a little too tight at first as he felt the man’s
hands readjust his grip before the bike roared to life and he was
pulled along by it.  At first he tried to look over the man’s shoulder
but rain pelted him in his eyes so he changed to hold his head down at
an angle and just hope for the best.  They went another ten miles,
lightning illuminated the sky and thunder penetrated the vibrations
and roar of the bike so he clung tighter.  The leather felt slick in
his fingers and for a moment he thought he would fall off until he
felt it slow and the driver pulled off the road.

A quick tap to his hands and he let go.  He waited for a moment then
climbed off.  He looked beside them to see an old barn with the front
door open but not much else around, no house, no trailer, no sign of
anyone living there.  And for a moment he thought he was going to be
left there, taken to a dry spot and left on his own, a small gesture
of good will, until the driver pulled the bike up and under and awning
attached to the side of the barn.  Johnny watched the man walk
confidently into the barn and he just stood there unsure what he
should do.

“Are you just going to stand out there all day?”

The logic of sarcasm hit him and he quickly ran inside where he found
the other man surveying the place, for a moment his black helmet made
him look like an alien to Johnny and he laughed a little to himself.
The driver pulled off the helmet and for a moment he couldn’t believe
what he saw, a middle aged man with short hair and a very handsome
face.  He felt himself soften just by looking at the man’s face and
for a moment he felt comfortable until he turned to him and looked him
in the eyes and he felt every muscle tighten again.

“It’s dry,” the man said, “it’ll do.”

“Right,” Johnny replied.

“Well, better make ourselves comfortable.”

Johnny watched the man quickly strip out of his gloves and leather
jacket and hung them up on hooks.  He set his helmet where it wouldn’t
be knocked over easily, then pulled off his shirt.  Johnny stood
puzzled for a moment until he saw the white t-shirt was translucent
and it made sense until the man slid off his boots and down came his
jeans.  No underwear, Johnny realized, and he chuckled again to
himself as he watched the man’s dick shake back and forth, then bounce
as he moved.  He set his boots to dry and carried a small black bag
over to a bail of hay.  He sat and looked to Johnny who stood amazed
at the sight.  There the man sat completely naked in an old barn on a
road he had probably traveled a half dozen times for one reason or
another.  How many times had he passed this barn and thought about it?

His contemplation was broken when the man unzipped his bag and pulled
out a half pint of whiskey that was half full.  He drank from it then
offered the bottle to Johnny who waved it away out of politeness.
Instead he looked over the man’s body as he crossed his ankles, there
before him was a man who’s muscles told the story of his life.  Well
developed calf muscles and thighs meant he probably did labor work,
muscled arms confirmed the thought, but his soft, white stomach meant
that he worked outside in the sun with an undershirt on so maybe he
was a little embarrassed about it or maybe there were requirements,
either way it was like the soft belly of a rabbit.  It was in contrast
to his dark, tattooed arms.

“Are you just going to stand there and stare all day or are you going
to strip down and get comfortable?”

Johnny tried to speak but only managed a few audible sounds of
surprise and embarrassment before he set down his bag and began to
take off his clothes.  The man had already down his strip tease and
Johnny felt on the spot as he stood there.  He pulled off his shirt,
unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, began to lower them when he
realized the man was a stranger and that his own dick was betraying
him by starting to chub up.  Pause, he thought, distract him.

“What’s your name?”

“Charles, but everyone calls me Chuck,” he said.

“Where are you going?”

“My friend is having a party this weekend so I’m going up to his
place.  It’s going to be a blowout.  There’ll be lots of beer,
barbecue, and women.”

“Really?”

And for some reason the distraction hadn’t worked on the stranger but
on himself as Johnny reached down to take off his shoes.  The first
one was easy but the second one was a bit of a struggle as his jeans
fell to his ankles and he started to hop around on one foot until he
finally fell to his butt.  Chuck let out a big laugh and downed the
rest of his bottle before pulling out a pack of cigarettes.

“You probably want to take off that other shoe now that you’re down
like that,” he said with a motion of his hand.  “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Johnny said before finally getting his other shoe off. He
pulled his jeans off as well and stood.  He set about hanging up his
clothes, not quite sure where to put them.  He moved about back and
forth in his white briefs hanging things and readjusting as he didn’t
quite want to go over and sit next to the man.  But eventually he had
no reason to stay on his feet and he dragged his bag over and sat on
it.

“Protect that with your life?”

“It is my life,” Johnny replied.

“Good for you,” the man replied.

Johnny tried to keep looking the man in the eye or else over his
shoulder, but he definitely tried to avoid looking down to his crotch
where the man’s penis lay over his left thigh like a slug.  But
there’s shadows and I’m in my underwear, he told himself.

“Well, if the rain don’t let up I don’t know what we’re gonna do,”
Chuck said, “I finished my half pint of whiskey and I don’t have any
weed on me, fresh out.”

Weed?  Johnny had weed.  He was about to say something when he felt a
fear of someone, this stranger, knowing he had something of value.
This was a seasoned biker, and here he was a teenager trying to
hitchhike across the country.  But this is what I wanted, he told
himself, I wanted an adventure.

“I’ve got some in my bag,” Johnny blurted out.

“Well, it don’t look like this rain is about to give up so let’s have
ourselves a little party here.”

“Really?”

“Does it look like we’re going anywhere?”

“No, I guess not,” Johnny replied.

In a flash he was on his feet and into his bag.  He pushed and pulled
until he finally came out with the twenty dollar bag he bought off a
friend.  He handed it over to the man who eyed it carefully through
the cellophane bag.

“Anything to smoke it?”

“What?  Oh no, I didn’t think about that.  I didn’t want to carry a
pipe around with me, you know, it’s lumpy.”

“Stay here,” Chuck said, “I spotted some apple trees.”

Johnny sat on his bag and watched the man pull himself to his feet
then comfortably walk across the floor of the barn, peak out the front
door, then stroll out sight.  He felt his dick harden more.  And yet
the man had walked off, a grunt and the sound of rustling leaves,
Chuck reappeared in the doorway with three apples in hand.  He
retrieved a knife from his jacket then went back to his seat and sat.
Johnny watched him quickly carve the apple into a pipe.  And with all
of the movement he couldn’t help but also see the man’s dick move a
little which at first he took for the normal movement of testicles but
as he watched the man stuff the apple with weed he noticed the man was
getting an erection, at least the beginning of an erection.  He slowly
turned his knee away hoping to get his own crotch out of sight but
continued to pay attention to the man who pulled a lighter from his
bag where he kept his whiskey and hit the apple.  He breathed deep and
handed it over to Johnny who didn’t know what to make of it at first
but eventually he figured out how to put his lips to the apple’s body
and suck out the smoke.  He hit it twice then passed it back.

“Good shit,” Chuck said with an exhale.

“I know I feel much better,” Johnny replied.

“Good, so does that mean you’re finally going to take off those
ridiculous little briefs you’re wearing.  You do realize I can see
right through them right?”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah, when you fell on your ass I saw all of it, walking back and
forth, every jiggle, every bounce.  Hell I could tell if you’re cut or
uncut.”

“What?”

“Cut, am I right?”

“Oh god,” Johnny said before breaking into nervous, panicked laughter.

“Don’t worry about it.  We’re both guys but you going around like
that.  It’s cute but it’s not hiding anything.  Get comfortable and
stretch out.”

Johnny could tell by the timber of his voice and the words that he was
being sincere so he pushed himself up and walked to a peg where he
covered himself with one hand and took off his underwear with the
other then hung it up.  He walked back to Chuck and sat next to him.
Chuck looked over, then down to his crotch and back up into his eyes.
He made a motion with his head as if Johnny shouldn’t be embarrassed
and he realized the man knew he was circumcised so he had seen it all
before and he uncovered himself.

“Now, let’s get stoned,” Chuck said.

And they continued to pass the apple back and forth, Chuck made
improvements each time and eventually the passing slowed, then
stopped.  Johnny felt a little sleepy and he closed his eyes for a
moment, let his head fall.  When his jaw his hit his chest he awoke
and found himself looking down at Chuck’s hard dick.  He felt his eyes
widen in surprise but clenched his jaw and bit his tongue.

“Weed always makes me horny, looks like it got to you too,” he said.

Johnny looked to his own dick which was rock hard and leaking
ejaculate.  He was just a little hard.  It wasn’t a chubby.  His dick
was completely hard.  He looked to away and for a moment he wanted to
run until he felt Chuck’s hand take hold of it.  A slightly rough,
slightly calloused hand took hold of his dick, then another stacked on
top gripped his dick like a baseball bat.  He turned to look to
Chuck’s eyes to see if there was hate or lust there but instead he
found Chuck quickly going down on him.  He felt the man’s lips touch
the head.  His hands caressed down the shaft followed by his mouth
until he felt the man gag a little.

This was it.  This was the adventure.  He was in a barn, the smell of
hay and old wood, a thunderstorm outside and he was naked with a biker
who was giving him a blow job, one of the best he had ever gotten
because Chuck could take inches.  Just from the movement of his hands
he knew the man knew how to stimulate a dick and seemed to appreciate
a big dick at that, but he could swallow like no one else.  Johnny
felt himself getting comfortable, his knees parted, raised up a little
and that’s when he felt Chuck’s tongue go lower right between his ass
cheeks to his hole.  He had never felt it before and the man was right
into him.  He felt it squirm and press into his skin, tease him open a
little and wiggle.  His dick felt like it was going to shoot off from
his body.

Then he felt a finger, one of those rough fingers pushed into him down
there and the man licked back up over his dick, over his muscled abs,
teased at his nipples and finally they looked each other in the eye.

“When you woke up this morning is this what you thought you’d be
doing?” Chuck asked.

“Did you?”

“I’m off by a couple hours but hell yeah,” he answered.

“Really?”

Chuck bit into his neck and sucked at it a little.  Johnny felt the
wetness of spit down over his body, his dick in one hand and finger in
his hole.  He cried out and grunted as the man continued to tease him.
And he looked up into his eyes again.  For a moment he thought this
rough man would have his way with him, leave him there possibly naked,
fucked over and used but then he saw this kindness in the man’s eyes
and the man smiled at him.

“First I’ll fuck you then you fuck me if it’s still raining,” Chuck said.

“Okay,” Johnny sighed.

Chapter 01: https://brieflytoldstories.blogspot.com/2018/09/johnny-seed-chapter-01-hit-road.html

Chapter 02: https://brieflytoldstories.blogspot.com/2018/09/johnny-seed-ch-02-smell.html

Chapter 03: https://brieflytoldstories.blogspot.com/2018/09/johnny-seed-ch-03-bf.html

Chapter 04: https://brieflytoldstories.blogspot.com/2018/09/johnny-seed-ch-04-savior.html