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.

Brat on Vacation Ch 01 - Invitation

After Brad had surrendered himself to me it wasn’t this “happily ever after” where we walked off into the sunset and lived in a castle surrounded by helpful mice and birds who sang songs, no we were college students, so every day was a grind, every class milestone was a hustle, but we had each other.  His room in the frat house most weekday nights, my room in the dorms on the weekends when Kevin was away, sometimes he showed up on Sunday afternoon early and found us cuddled together.  Days turned into weeks.  The worst part was when he had gone away for Thanksgiving break and I stayed on campus because I didn’t want to go home.  It was so boring, though I did figure out how to rob the vending machines so at least there was a little bit of fun.

It was in those few weeks before Christmas break that things changed.  Everyone had that little countdown in their head and this desperation to finish do all of the work needed.  It was a Sunday, and I was down in the basement of the dorms doing laundry.  Kevin had walked in on Brad in his diaper at the desk writing an assignment, and as Brad explained it, well he forgot he was just wearing a diaper.  There he sat typing away trying to make some kind of convincing argument when it finally dawned on him.  They shared a look and laughed it off, but when I got back Brad was in sweat pants much to my disappointment and Kevin was on his second beer and shirtless on his bed reading a book he was supposed to have finished by the next day.  They fell silent when I entered the room with my basket full of clothes.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Nothing,” Kevin said with a mischievous laugh.

“Brad?”

“It’s all good.  He just walked in on me in my, well, diaper,” he answered.

“Don’t worry about it,” Kevin said, “I’m thinking of taking off my pants right now.”

I rolled my eyes and thought about defusing the situation by taking Brad to dinner when Kevin told me that he had ordered pizza and that the fridge was full of beer.  I settled for the latter of course and got one out.  So I sat on my bed and sorted clothes, started to put them away, when Brad let out this berp, so Kevin did it too, and they both laughed.  When they start farting and making jokes about it, I told myself, then I know they’re friends.

“Do you think a butt plug hurts?” Kevin asked.

I looked to him where he lay, his two sock covered feet off the edge of the bed, his long legs covered by jeans, the band of his boxers and that soft tummy, a cute roll of fat.  He scratched at himself and shifted on the bed and looked to both of us.  I looked away and Brad pretended like he hadn’t heard.  So Kevin sat up and moved to the edge where his feet dangled off.

“I’m serious,” he said, “hey look, you guys have probably put stuff up there.  I’m not gay but you know, times are changing and I was just curious.  Stop being such a prude.”

Brad and I looked to each other and laughed.  We knew.  We had all the answers and yet as open as we were, as much as we didn’t try to hide our little practice of me putting Brad in diapers, our sexuality, any of it, it still felt like a taboo.  For all of our shared secrets we were a bit prudish, at least when it came to straights.  Kevin got himself another beer, opened it, and began to drink it.  He gave another to Brad and urged him to finish the one by his laptop which he did, then he went into the bathroom and closed the door.

“What do you think that was about?” Brad asked over his shoulder.

“Maybe he’s bi-curious?”

“I don’t think it’s a bisexuality thing.  I mean I don’t think he’s into dudes, but you know, maybe he’s just curious.  Lots of guys are doing it now?”

“Doing what?”

“Playing with their butts,” Brad said.

“Really?  Who?”

“Kevin,” he answered in a whisper and we both laughed.

But we fell quiet when the bathroom door opened and he walked back into the room and went to the sink where he washed his hands.  He was about to go back to his bed when there was a knock on the door and he went to open it.  I got to my feet just in time for him to hand me two pizza boxes as he tipped the delivery person then closed the door.  I set them on my bed and opened both.  Kevin was quick to get himself a piece and retreat to his bed where he sat cross legged and looked back at me.

“Don’t you feel like we should be doing something?” he asked.

“And just what do you want to do?” I replied.

“Something, anything, this is so boring.  I feel like we should be exploring.”

“Explore your book,” Brad said.

“No, I want like a real adventure,” Kevin replied.

“If you drink enough we’ll tell you about butt plugs,” I said.

“Really?”

“Do you want to know or is this some kind of test where you laugh at us after?”

“I really want to know,” he said.

“Okay,” I said.

And I went into a long explanation about how they felt, how they didn’t quite satisfy and yet there was something fun to it, that it wasn’t for everyone, some people, gay or straight, liked the feeling of having it in their butt.  I went into the social context of anal play for some people, the feeling of insertion, and then I talked about how for other people it was annoying, gay or straight, having something in the butt was a bother.  I told him about shapes, sizes, and that a tapered base helped it from going inside too far and getting stuck.  He raised his knees and turned away in mock fear when he heard that, but then he drank some more and asked for more details.

“I’m not sure how much more I can tell you.  Did you try looking it up?”

“It’s not, I mean, I guess, it’s more like personal experience, because you know, it’s like, well…”

“Try sitting on one,” Brad said.

“Hey, are you sitting on one now?”

We laughed nervously.

“Is that what you were trying to ask?” I said.

“No, well honestly kind of, but not to embarrass you, but because I am legitimately curious.  Just like when I saw you in the diaper and I made that joke about being able to drink as much as you want without going to the bathroom because you could just go in your diaper.  It’s just one of those things.”

“What do you mean one of those things?  Is that what you meant when you said you wanted to go on an adventure?”

He blushed and covered his face with his hands so I looked away and tried to think up some reason to break up the party.  I mean it felt awkward and yet there was this kind of bond between us, this kind of fun energy.  Mostly, it was the alcohol.  Kevin drank some more and we let the silence pass.  For a moment I thought one of us would think of a new subject, one of us would decide our fates that night, one of us would return the social norms.  But we didn’t, because Kevin was the first to speak.

“I wish I had some hard alcohol,” he said, “I’ve been sober all week and I spent two days with my parents.  They don’t let me drink around them.  I had to convince my older brother to buy a case of beer when he dropped me off.”

“There’s hard liquor at the frat house,” Brad said.

Oh no, I thought, Sunday night is turning into a drinking party, that’s not a good way to start the week.  Well, I’ll stay sober, I thought, and Kevin, well Kevin’s poor life choices are his own.  But when Brad stood up and stretched and I heard the words, “fuck it,” from his lips, I knew it was going to be a long night regardless of my maturity because they both wanted to get drunk.  And just like that with those words we were on a mission to get liquor.  Brad pulled on a shirt, retrieved his keys, wallet, and phone from the dresser by my bed, Kevin put on some shoes, and we were out the door.  We walked the paths to the frat house with barely a word between us and when we got there Kevin hesitated for a moment before he stepped inside.

Frat life wasn’t for him.  He had quit soon after joining, so he was a bit of an unwanted guest, but there was barely anyone home so with a shrug of his shoulders we all went inside.  Brad was quick to raid the supply in the kitchen and took two half-full bottles of vodka and a bottle of whiskey with no label.  He handed them to Kevin in a grocery bag then we all went up to his room.  I knew that Kevin didn’t want to be left alone and cornered by one of the frat brothers.  Brad apologized for his messy room and started to look through his drawers.  He tossed a couple of diapers on the bed, some clothes, then he pulled out something and covered it with both hands as he moved to Kevin.

“Put out your hands,” he said.

He did.  And Brad placed a butt plug, his butt plug, there in his palm.  At first he was fascinated by it in his drunken stupor but then he realized what it was and where it had been so he dropped it and pretended to be disgusted.  At least in part he pretended because he really hammed it up with all the cries of disgust and wiping his hands on everything.  He was about to step away and walk from the room when I decided to joke with him a little and wrapped him on the arm to get his attention.

“Pick it up,” I said, “it won’t hurt you unless you put it up your butt and even then it might feel good, don’t be so scared.  You were the one asking all the questions.”

He looked to me then the plug, eventually he picked it up, handed it to Brad, then he wiped his hands on his jeans and walked from the room.  Brad showed it to me with a grin before he stuck it in his overnight bag.  I shook my head and we both laughed.  Kevin waited just outside the room and we all walked out together.  When we stepped out into the cool Fall air it felt like we had committed robbery, like we had gotten away with something.  The frat guys would never notice the missing liquor, but it still felt like we had done something bad.

By the time we made it back to the dorms we were all laughing and joking with each other with those little shoves and pulls guys do. When we got to the room we spilled inside and were cracking up about nothing.  Brad set the first bottle on the desk, followed by the second and third with this resounding thud for each one.  He poured shots with the vodka and we downed them.  He poured again and we downed them.  When he started on the third round I refused and Kevin drank it before going to his bed with a slice of pizza.  He ate greedily and made a mess of himself with toppings falling all over his chest and sauce at the corners of his mouth.  Brad looked to me and we shared a laugh.

“I’m so drunk,” Kevin said, “this is the best.  Who would have thought having a gay roomie and his boyfriend could be so much fun?”

“I won’t take that as an insult,” I said.

“You know what I mean,” he said, “this is great.  I just have to pee.”

Then Brad did something I didn’t expect, he took a diaper out of his bag and tossed it to Kevin.  It landed in front of him and he stared at it.  I watched as the different parts of his body flushed and changed color.  His lips turned red.  His hands turned red.  The cheeks on his face, red.  I shook my head a little and thought to change the way this was going when he took hold of it and began to rub the plastic material with his fingers.  I could tell he was interested.  He just wanted to know, to have the experience, tomorrow it might all be a memory but right then as we sat together, it felt like this given that he would do it.  I expected him to go to the bathroom and do it himself but instead he looked to us.

“One of you has to put me in it,” he said.

“Which?” I asked.

“It doesn’t matter, Brad,” he said.

“Okay, strip down,” Brad said.

“Do you think this is going too far?” I asked.

“Have another shot,” Kevin replied.

“Hey, don’t say-“

“I’ve been warned all of my life and what good did that do me?  I ended up repressed and hating myself,” Brad said, “let him enjoy it.  Now strip.”

Kevin got to his feet and swayed for a moment then steadied himself before he pulled his pants and underwear down to his ankles.  He stood up and put his hands out in victory as he stood before us with his little penis on display amongst a nest of pubic hair.  It was cute just like him.  I rolled my eyes though at this situation and I was glad it wasn’t me having to put the diaper on him when Brad pushed him backwards onto the bed and took hold of his feet when they popped up into the air.  He pulled off my roommie’s shoes, his jeans, and his underwear, then he pulled him to the middle of the bed, lifted the other young man’s knees into the air.  He sat between those legs, looked down over Kevin’s naked body and he shook his head as he laughed.

“Is this the way it’s done?  I bet you look real cute on your back,” Kevin said, “a big frat boy like you with all those muscles.  I’d like to see that.”

And there it was, this kind of admission, this feeling that he’d had, this fantasy of Brad on his back, a jock boy through and through, yet there he was just like Kevin with his knees in the air.  It was the fantasy that got me excited every time we did it.  Brad interrupted my thoughts with a playful slap to Kevin’s belly.

“Keep being a smart ass and I’ll have to give you a spanking,” he said.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Kevin replied with a ring of challenge to his voice.

Brad spanked him, three times on the same cheek, but he spanked him.  Kevin laughed.  He actually laughed while being naked on his back in a room with two young, gay men, his knees in the air, his hole exposed.  He laughed.  Brad was quick to reposition him and place the diaper under his butt.

“Do you want the full treatment?” I asked.

“What’s the full treatment?”

“I’ve got lotions and baby powder in my drawer here.  It’ll really make the diaper experience memorable,” I said.

“Trust me,” Brad added.

“Hell yeah, give it to me daddy, I want it,” Kevin said.

Brad spanked him again, this time it hurt and Kevin said so.

“I’m not just going to let you keep spanking me,” he said.

“Then behave yourself,” Brad replied.

I got bottles from the drawer and handed them to Brad, then I stood there and looked down to Kevin who waited.  I watched his tummy rise and fall with each breath, studied the way his cheeks were still rosy, and his nipples hardened at the ends of soft pectoral muscles.  He was quite the sight as Brad put the powder on him first, then he held up the lotion for Kevin to see.

“This next part, it’s not about gay or straight, it’s to protect your little butt from dry skin.  Do you want me to put it on you?”

“Yes please,” Kevin said.

A note of civility, for all the play, for all the antics, he had found some sense of maturity in this little adventure of his.  Brad spread lotion over his ass and the crevices of his thighs.  I knew Brad was turned on by this.  I was turned on by this.  And yet we knew there were limits, this wasn’t someone we had picked up in the bar, this was my roommate.  Brad fastened the diaper and pushed himself from the bed, stood next to me.  We both looked down at him.

“I feel like I need a pacifier,” he said.

“Do you want to try the butt plug?” Brad asked.

“No, nope, too far, I’m good,” he said.

I looked to Brad, whispered for him to strip down and he did.  He stood there in his puffy diaper and rubbed the material for a moment absent mindedly.  Kevin reached down to touch the crotch of his diaper and hesitated for a moment before he saw Brad doing it so he did the same.  He rubbed the outside, front and back, just to feel it.  We all laughed it off and I returned to my bed, Brad returned to the desk.  Kevin moved to the wall where he placed a pillow and picked up his book.  It was over.

The adventure was over, I thought, but it didn’t have to be.  Just what was I thinking?  I wasn’t sure.  Three drunk guys, two of them wearing diapers, on a college campus, Sunday night.  Brad stretched and poured himself another drink.  Kevin slipped a hand down the front of his diaper, just a little, just a few fingers, but it was there.  We were bored.

“What about going on a little adventure?” I asked.

“I’m game,” Kevin said.

“Me too, I can finish this paper in the morning, just let me save it.  What did you have in mind?”

“A little walk around campus,” I said, “but, and here’s the but, you have to walk around in a diaper and a t-shirt, no pants.”

“No pants?” Kevin asked.

“No pants!” Brad shouted in celebration.

And we did, they did.  We stepped out of the dorm room a few minutes later with both of them in white t-shirts and shoes, no pants.  In the light they looked foolish and for a moment I considered making them take the elevator when the bell rang and some other people from the floor got off in conversation.  We all considered running back inside the room but they went down a different hallway, but I could tell the sudden realization of being exposed, well they were both sweating, so I told them we could take the stairs.

Walking around a college campus at night is one thing, but doing it as we were, well it was something else.  We didn’t mean anyone harm, just the opposite.  We were so focused on ourselves and each other that it was this joke between us.  We made it down the stairs and onto a path between the dorms that barely anyone ever used.  We walked towards the woods, and it would have been easy to get lost amongst them, but there would also be the risk of being seen by passing cars and the few neighbors who lived near the college and who were always complaining about stuff like this, usually it was the frats, but that night it was us.  So when I got the opportunity I steered us back toward campus because I figured if campus security saw us they’d probably laugh it off.

We walked all around campus that night, mostly stayed out of the buildings, just kind of hung around in different places, mostly stayed to the shadows.  It was funny to see them run between buildings with just their shirts to cover them, and hide when they heard someone.  But the only time we almost got caught was when we got closer to the dorms and we heard security making their rounds.  Brad and Kevin hid behind a half wall, stood as close to it as possible and I just sat there on it trying to act like we didn’t have any other place to be.  The security guard barely noticed us, but after he passed there were a few whistles and cat calls from the windows of a dorm, by the sound of it a woman.  Both of them flushed with fear and ran.  I tried to see what window, who had done it, but couldn’t make it out so I just shrugged my shoulders and followed after them back to the room.

Once again we burst into the room full of energy, but this time it died off when we got inside and felt warm again.  Each of us went back to doing something, Kevin read his book, Brad wrote his paper, and I surfed the internet.  But all we had to do was look at each other and we’d start laughing.  The most awkward moment though was when Kevin stood up to use the bathroom.  He looked to me and I shrugged my shoulders but when Brad noticed he shook his head.

“Try it,” Brad said.

“I can’t,” he replied.

“Do you mean you haven’t used it all night?” I asked.

“No, well yeah, I mean I peed a little when we were out, but like this time I really have to go and I don’t want to do it in front of you guys.”

“Don’t worry about,” I said.

“Wait, hold on, it’s the best feeling,” Brad said, “knowing and being there with a friend, someone you love,” he looked to me, “it’s wonderful.  Just give it a try.”

He closed his eyes tight as he stood there and for a moment I didn’t think it would happen then we heard it, that unmistakable sound of someone pissing in a diaper.  We laughed at it for a moment, then he farted, then he ran for the bathroom.  Brad and I looked to each other and laughed it off.  There are still some boundaries between friends.  When he came back the diaper was barely clinging to his hips as he had pulled it off then back on after doing what he needed to do.  Kevin was about to get into bed when Brad told him to wait.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked.

“Not yet, but if you go to bed in a diaper like that you’re asking for spills.  Pissing a diaper is one thing but pissing the bed is another because you have to do all these sheets and blankets, the mattress is ruined.  I think you need a change.”

“Could you do it?” Kevin asked.

Brad was quick to jump to his feet.  He finally had someone else to change.  This time he waited for Kevin to get into place before he got into position and just like the last time he made him hold his knees in the air with his little dick pointed towards his belly and his hole exposed.  It seemed so routine, so ordinary I didn’t watch and went back to surfing the net.  I heard a few little whispers, giggles, and for a moment it caught my attention but I was getting tired and the alcohol was working on me so I didn’t think too much about it.  So when Brad made his way over to me and crawled into bed, and he wrapped himself around me, put his lips to my ear and whispered that Kevin had asked him to put the butt plug in him I was surprised and for a moment disappointed that I hadn’t seen it, but just the thought of it, of him, there in his bed, my straight roommate with a butt plug in him and wearing just a diaper, well that was enough, and we fell asleep.

The next morning we were all awoken by the buzzing and ringing of Brad’s phone, and it was a good thing too, because we had all slept through our alarms.  Brad rubbed the crusties from his eyes as he answered it.  Kevin rolled over onto his back and for a moment I saw a look of panic on his face, then relief as I’m sure he pissed his diaper again.  Brad looked to me though with renewed fear in his eyes, he held the phone away from his mouth.

“It’s my mother,” he said, “and she wants you to come home for Christmas break.”

“I’m not ready,” I whispered back.

“Too bad, you’re coming,” he said.

“No one will be coming if we both go to your home for Christmas,” I said.

“That’s kind of the point,” he said, “my parents want to meet you.  Will your parents mind?”

I thought about it for a moment, then shook my head, my parents wouldn’t mind, they’d kill me, well not literally, but I hadn’t gone home for Thanksgiving.  I had promised I’d be home for Christmas.  But I could live with disappointing them, so I told him they wouldn’t mind and that I’d go.  He looked relieved and told his mother as he went into the bathroom for privacy.  Kevin sat up and threw his pillow at me and hit me.  He ran his hand through his hair, looked down to his diaper.

“No regrets,” he said, “the butt plug feels weird, especially to wake up with it.  Did you hear me jerking off last night?  It felt so good when I was drunk.”

“I’m glad,” I replied with a groan of disgust.  But the truth was all I could think about was Christmas break with Brad’s family.  What kind of hell could this be?

Str8 Part Two - Eight Loving Arms

I’m an adult, Marco told himself as he looked to the window of the adult sex toy store, adults do this sort of thing all the time.  It doesn’t mean anything.  But Marco was also the man who ordered all of his condoms and lubricants online so he didn’t have to deal with a cashier.  He pushed open the car door, closed it, locked the car, and kept moving his feet.  This was a virginal experience and he felt ashamed.  But he was doing this for Heather, he told himself, and he’d do anything for her.  So what if he had to confront an embarrassing situation, he told himself, the other night he just talked about anal sex with his gay, best friend.  I’ll do it.  I’m doing it.  But he couldn’t help but look over his shoulder as he entered.

He stepped into the store and for a moment he almost turned and ran out but decided that would be more embarrassing so he stepped in further.  But he froze in his tracks when he looked to the counter and spotted a man and a woman behind it.  Which do I pick?  Which will pick me?  I’m so embarrassed I must be the color of a tomato.  He looked down to the carpet, his shoes, and moved his feet until he was the farthest away he could get to the farthest wall, and he found himself standing in front of a wall of sex toys, some he had seen but many he had not.  And there were these pup masks, horse masks, bull whips hung loose for testing and for a moment he panicked about accidentally brushing against it.  Would that tool of pain feel so good dragged across his skin?  He reached to his chest and started to turn his feet.  But where do I go?  He needed help.  But which to choose?

The obvious choice would be the woman but she reminded him too much of Heather so he looked to the man who stood in a slightly effeminate way, perfect, reminds me of Roger, he thought.  He looked between them then settled on the man, Clark.

“This is a penis thing,” he whispered to his coworker.

“Don’t you think that straight boy would be more comfortable with me?”

“Look at him, a doe in front of a hunter, you’d freak him out because he’d be thinking about sex.  I’m none threatening because he doesn’t want to have sex with me, even though I desperately want to have sex with him.”

“If he runs-”

“Please, I’m a penis professional,” he replied.  “I’ll be right there,” he yelled across the store before stepping from behind the counter.  He moved to Marco, clasped his hands together lightly.  “How can I help you sir?”

“I’m looking for a gift for my wife.  This is kind of the last place I want to be but I’d do anything for her, so it’s like, but I don’t know what she wants.  I mean we never really talked about it, well, not completely.  I mean she’d recommend something and maybe I’d say something but, you know, it wasn’t like serious.  We’ve always had great sex.”
That last word escaped him as if it were his last breath and he placed his hands on his knees as he bent over gasping for breath.

“Can I sit down somewhere?”

“Come with me dear,” Clark replied before walking away and motioning with his finger for him to follow.  “Can we get this man some water?”

Marco moved across the store to the counter where he found a stool and sat on it.  He leaned against the counter until the woman, Jennifer, handed him a bottle of water.  Clark motioned for her to leave them and for a moment she resisted until he made a more insistent motion making her smirk as she stepped away.

“I’m sure you two have great sex,” Clark said, “but you, or her, well you want something a little more, like a spice.  There’s nothing wrong with a spice.”

“My favorite meal is a hamburger and fries,” Marco replied.

“A plain boy then,” Clark said, “you really are vanilla.  Okay, well, let’s think.  Okay, think of it like this gift you’re giving your wife, but it’s like Christmas everyday for her, whatever it is.  Whenever the two of you, or just her, use this thing it’s like Christmas morning.”

“Okay, I can think about it that way,” Marco said.

He downed the last of the water and gathered his breath.  They started to walk.  And for once as he looked at the items he started to laugh.  It wasn’t the kink, the toy just looked ridiculous.

“See, we can all laugh a little about sex,” Clark said, “It’s not such a big deal.”

“I feel better now,” Marco replied, “really I do.”

“Okay, well, let’s just see if there’s something that gets your attention.”

And they walked up and down the aisles mostly pointing out different things to each other.  Back at the wall Clark got Marco to run the bull whip over his forearm.  Marco giggled a little and put it back immediately as if it had stirred something in him and he was afraid.  They explored every aisle, every display, it felt like they had been through every turn in a maze and yet were still lost.  Finally Clark stopped him in the back of the store away from the few customers who had stopped in while they were browsing.

“What is it you’re looking for?  We’ve passed the whips and chains, handcuffs, and you didn’t want any of that.  You said you want a present for your wife.  Is there something special you want?”

“Yes, I need something special, something really special.”

“What are we talking about?”

“I want something different.  I want something special.”

“How much do you got?”

“I’ve got a thousand dollars to spend.”

“Really?  Oh, well that changes things, come with me.”

And there it was, a curtain if beads Marco hadn’t seen previously.  Clark stepped through and Marco followed after.  This back room was dark and dusty, lit by different colored bulbs, red lights, purple lights, orange.  The room was illuminated yet it had these dark shadows and he couldn’t tell just how big the room was.

“Over here,” Clark waved him to a table where it looked like there was a sculpture, an octopus, carved from wood.  “Do you believe in magic?”

“I mean I’m skeptical, not like real magic, but I guess I’m agnostic.  I want it to be real.  I guess.  What are you talking about?”

“Right here is a gift guaranteed to grant your wife’s best fantasy.  All of the way from Japan, this little sculpture is capable of completely satisfying your wife.  What do you think?”

“It looks like a piece of wood.  It’s a nice piece of wood, but I don’t know.  She’d hate me if I got her just this.”

“Is there something else she wants?”

“Look, I didn’t feel like saying this out there, but she wants to fuck me in the ass.”

“Oh, well, I’ll tell you what.  If you buy this sculpture and promise she’ll give it a try then I’ll throw in the small and large dildos as well as a harness.”

“Really?  But I have to pay for that?”

Clark ran his hand along the statue from one end to the other as if caressing a pet.  Marco tightened his shoulders.

“Okay, I’ll give you seven hundred fifty dollars worth of stuff, so really it will just cost you two hundred and fifty dollars.”

“I guess,” Marco squeaked.

“I know if I just go home with just this thing she’ll definitely shove it up my ass.”

Clark let out a laugh and clapped his hands.

“Oh she will be so satisfied.  I’ll write out the directions for her.”

Marco felt completely happy as he paid for everything and left the store with a bit of pep in his step.  He had been to his first adult store and it was fun, plus he got such a good deal.  He had stopped counting how much free stuff he was getting.  The man seemed to be picking it out more from amusement and joy than anything else.  He put his bag in the trunk and felt satisfied that he’d have a story to tell.

But the feeling was completely opposite when he got home.  Despite the fact that his wife wasn’t home he ran through the rooms to get to the bedroom where he dumped out the bag on the bed.  He saw a few obvious things: the statue and a pair of cuffs, but then he started looking through everything else and his heart sunk.  Everything was for her, leather harness, a collection of dildos, small, medium, large, and holy shit, he picked it up.  How did he get this in here?  There’s no way I’m taking this, Marco said to himself, okay, new game plan, he told himself.

Just the octopus statue.  This was it.  This was just for her, some kind tentacled little toy that would satisfy her most secret desire.  He’d try this first and hide the rest.  And if she really hated it, like really hated it, then he could think about the other things.  So he picked it up and set it aside before she came back and walked in on him. He hid all of the other toys first, then hid the statue where she couldn’t find it easily but it was still convenient for him.  He paced the floors, played videogames, and even washed the dishes.  He told himself repeatedly not to make a big deal of it but he couldn’t keep the secret and as soon as she got home he took her to the bedroom and got it out for her.

“What’s this?”

“It’s supposed to fulfill your desires.”

“It’s wood.”

“There’s instructions.”

“Okay,” she said dryly.

“Do you like it?”

“What’s it supposed to do?”

“I just told you.”

“Well, I’ll play with it later I guess,”

And she tossed it on the bed and they left it there.  They went into the kitchen, cooked a meal, ate dinner, and it all felt so normal as they made their way to the couch with a glass of wine in hand.  She rubbed at his chest, rubbed at his crotch, then looked him in the eye.  He was ready for it.

“Why am I bothering with you when I have a piece of wood in the bedroom?” she asked before getting up and stepping away.

“What are you doing?”

“Going to bed,” she said.

Marco felt his erection begin to deflate, ejaculate leaked against his underwear.  He wanted her back and yet he knew she was just teasing him.  She’d keep up this ruse for an hour or so then when he got to bed she’d want him.  And she walked away so he opened his jeans and began to rub at his dick as he changed the video on the television.  He heard her close the bedroom door and he shrugged it off.  But it wasn’t long before he was paying more attention to the movie than his dick and it shrunk in his lap until his hand was out and slick in the palm and fingers with cum.  He sat there like that for almost an hour when the credits ran and he found himself sitting there in his living room like that, his jeans open, dick peaking out of his underwear.  He got up, fastened his jeans, took care of everything including locking the door and went to the bedroom where he was disappointed to find Heather was asleep with a book in one hand and her vibrator in the other.

He picked up the octopus statue and carried it into the bathroom.  He ran some water in the tub and dropped it inside and he looked over the rest of the directions.  Though they were mostly about just relaxing and reaching some kind of meditative state.  He laughed it off.  Looks like I got a new bath tub toy, he laughed himself as he watched it float back and forth with the currents of the water.  He stripped down, tested the water, then slowly stepped into it before lowering himself down.  The warmth was almost too much as it came up just over his shoulders to his neck.

The house didn’t have much but they bought it for two features.  The dining room where they imagined having dinner with friends and family, and the bathtub, one of those old cast iron, deep tubs.  He closed his eyes and covered them with a damp cloth.  He felt as if he had lost all cohesion as he felt the warmth.  He stretched and rubbed over his body.  For a moment he completely forgot about the octopus until he felt it bump into his toe, a wooden log in his bath, she hated it so now he’d definitely have to tell her about the other toys, well maybe not all of them.

He could introduce them slowly, maybe the cuffs, then maybe some of the whips.  He could never imagine himself striking her but he’d do it for her, and that’s when he felt it, something around his ankle and yet it felt so light it was just something he had imagined.  But then something tickled his thigh, his side, and his ribs.  He could imagine Heather there, a firm grip on his foot, her hands up his legs, fingers tip toed their way up his ribs and dug into his arm pits with her thumbs, her body on top of his, legs against legs, chest against chest, the warmth and softness against his hard dick pressed it against his belly.

Kisses all over his body, the skin sucked until he squealed a little with each one up and down his body like little fireworks, a new one went off before the last had faded.  Held down, kissed all over, lips to his lips but there was no breath just something squishy that pushed into his mouth, thicker than a tongue he thrashed about until he knocked the rag from his eyes and looked to the foot of the tub where he saw it.  He saw that octopus statue but it wasn’t a piece of wood any longer, no it was a real creature and it had eight tentacles, two that ran along the side of the water to his wrists where they grappled him, six more down in the water slowly taking hold of parts of his body, his ankles, his thighs, his ribs.

They stretched as they secured each part of him and he began to squirm and try to fight back but it was strong, much stronger than him, and he felt himself being stretched, his legs pulled up out of the water as a tentacle reached that most private part of his body.  He felt it touch him right there.  His soft, tight hole, but it was slick and narrow enough.  It felt like a tongue at first but then it felt different as it pushed inside of him.  He tried to catch his breath and cry out but the one in his mouth pushed into his throat, back and forth so that he could barely breath.  He was getting it in both ends.  The little ridges under the tentacle tickled his skin as they ran over his body, especially his nipples.  He felt so full.  He felt so unable to stop it.  Yet it felt so good, his dick stuck out from his body, so hot, so stiff.  He felt it lift him from the bottom of the tub.  He was now completely controlled by it.

There was no fear of the past and no fear of the future.  He felt it manipulating him and he loved it.  It was indeed his wife’s greatest fantasy, him getting it from both ends.  He felt the changes of girth as the tentacle moved in and out of him, touched him everywhere.  And it happened.  His dick fired.  And for a moment he thought it would end, but then he felt the octopus tighten its grip.

Round Two, he thought, and it was.  He felt every sensation, slow and building, endless.  He gagged on the tentacle in his mouth so it pulled out, slapped at his face as he chased it just to feel it again inside of him, feel his lips stretched.  It pulled from his anus and he wanted it back, loosened its grip and he tried to hold onto it. He thrashed with it, and it happened again.  He had another orgasm and he fell asleep.
When he awoke in the cold water, the wooden octopus hit against his toe and he pulled the rag from his eyes.  There was a knock on the door and Heather opened it.  She looked sleepy.

“Are you okay?  I heard you splashing around in here.”

“Fine, I just had a dream, must have thought I was drowning,” he joked, but then he felt that octopus hit his toe.”

“Well, you splashed water everywhere,” she said, “and I’m not cleaning it up.  Oh look, you’ve got that stupid thing in the water.  Was it any good?”

“Honey, there’s something I need to tell you,” he forced from his throat, “I got you some toys, sex toys, lots of them.  I want to try it.  I got you cuffs, a harness, dildos, everything, and I want it.  I want you to fuck me.”

She became the happiest he had ever seen.  She moved to him, kissed him on the lips.  She reached down to his dick and teased him for a moment before hinting that he should follow.  “Stay naked,” she said.  So he got out of the water, dried off, wrapped a towel around his waist and walked out of the bathroom.

Three hours later, the wooden octopus was above the fireplace in the living room, it looked down over him as he was on his hands and knees, locked into position with cuffs and rope, a ball gag in his mouth as he took the biggest dildo.  He felt it deep inside of his body, his hard dick rubbed between his thighs, his wrists bound to his thighs, ankles bound together.  He was completely vulnerable, stretched and split open.  Heather pushed inside of him completely to the base, tapped at his balls with her hand, stroked him to his third orgasm of the night.

Part 01: https://brieflytoldstories.blogspot.com/2018/09/str8-ch-01-cfnm-tentacle-male.html
Find this and other stories as downloadable files on my Patreon Campaign: https://www.patreon.com/brieflytoldstories

Brat in the Frat Ch 08 - The Dilemma

After he shared his secret with me it was like we both had the same secret.  And he started wearing diapers everyday.  A nod or a wink to me when we were together and we’d just smile.  His frat brothers would roll their eyes and Kevin would just grunt in frustration but it was for us, we knew.  That’s when we really started to go everywhere together and he dragged me to a few of his pick-up basketball games.  My favorite was knowing under the thin fabric of his shorts was a diaper, a diaper I had put on him.  I could tell he was conscious of it, especially when it was shirts vs. skins.  I held my breath during those games as I’m sure he did a little himself.

It’s difficult to explain that type of connection between two people, you just feel it.  We didn’t talk about the future much.  We didn’t talk about our past lives.  We lived to be together, to explore together.  We became so familiar around each other that our bodies seemed to melt into each other just being in the same room.  We’d sit next to each other and think nothing about an affirming touch, an arm around the shoulders as we sat on the couch, a hand on the thigh.  We were in love.

There are two types of people we all share secrets with, strangers and close loved ones.  To share a secret with a stranger is an unremarkable thing.  That’s the power of Confession in a Catholic Church, a dark closet area with a confidant able to hear you but not exactly see you.  Sometimes it’s someone on an airplane or bus we will never see again because of the way life works, space and time, the geography of where we live, where we are going, two lives that momentarily intersect.

Sharing a secret with a loved one, well that’s more difficult, because a person intends to keep that loved one close, wants to build a relationship, a future with that person.  And so many of our relationships are created for other reasons.  My parents got married because my mother got pregnant, so they had many secrets.  My grandparents got married because my grandmother wanted out of her life at home taking care of her younger siblings, many more secrets. 

I was quite conscious of this as we continued to date, to hang around each other, have certain expectations of each other about fulfilling roles.  We became like a balancing act offering encouragement for each other when the other was feeling down, calming each other if one of us got angry.  Often we’d just end up in bed, me in my underwear and him in a diaper, and we’d just cuddle together under the blankets.  We’d kiss and stroke at each other until we built up some kind of reserve of energy, a reserve of self-esteem that helped us face any challenge.

So even after all that we had been through together, the familiarity of our bodies and touch, the need to be held and affirmed, it was still quite the surprise when one day Brad said he had something he wanted to talk with me about and I knew it was something he was embarrassed about, something he was ashamed to say.  It didn’t help that he said this in the morning before we parted ways to go to class.  All day I thought just about every thought from him wanting to break up with me to him proposing marriage.  He didn’t propose.  And we didn’t break up.  But I considered each.

By the time we met up in my dorm room after dinner together in the cafeteria I was nervous about what he was going to say.  Thankfully my roommate was gone for the weekend.  As soon as we entered I wanted to hear it.  I wanted to hear what he had to say but it, whatever it was, didn’t seem to be on his mind, so we stripped down and got into bed, pulled a sheet over us.  We made small talk about our day, teased each other.  I’d pull on his nipple.  He’d kiss my hands.  I’d rub at the bulge between his legs, familiar now with the feel of the diaper covering his dick.  He’d kiss me on the cheek.  He put one hand inside my underwear to feel my dick and I wrapped my arm around his side to reach between his cheeks and feel his hole with a probing finger.  

We had gotten intimate without achieving orgasm or even the possibility of orgasm when I could tell he wanted to talk.  That barrier of shame and embarrassment had been lowered again.  He rolled onto his back away from me so I propped myself up on one elbow and looked into his eyes.  The room was mostly dark because it was evening and I always kept the drapes closed.  He stretched his arms up above his shoulders and put his hands under his head so that I could see the entirety of him, the way his chest rose and fell with each breath.  I touched his belly with my free hand, played with his belly button, traced the hairs down to the waist band of his diaper then back up to his ribs.  He let out a laugh.

“What’s on your mind?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” he said.

He knew.  He knew that I knew he was thinking about something.  This would be one of those moments, more dangerous now for all the ways we had become familiar with each other.  When we had sex that was one thing.  When I dared him to wear a diaper that was another.  When we went out on a date that ended with him pissing himself that was even more.  If we broke up now it would mean days, weeks, possibly months of mourning the end of our relationship.

“You can tell me,” I said.

I wasn’t sure if I was really ready for it.  It was kind of a dare to him and myself.  How bad could it be?  He was scared of what I might say and do but I wanted to be there for him in all the ways I possibly could, that I knew for sure.  He took a deep breath and I saw him wince as if he were about to cry so I knew it was personal and dangerous to confess.  I leaned into him, kissed at his chest, kissed at his arm pit until he writhed from being tickled and started to laugh.

“I want to try it, with you,” he said through his laughter, “I want to try losing control, like really losing control.”

I pulled away and looked him in the eye.  He stared back and I knew this big jock boy in bed next to me was really afraid.  He could explain sex to himself and to others.  He could possibly explain the diaper as some kind of experiment.  But losing control, giving control over to someone else, that was a powerful thing.  In an instant I felt as if I were the one who was going to cry.  He trusted me, like really trusted me, and he loved me and I loved him too.  I gave him my best coy smile and he smiled back.

“Are we talking about chains and whips here or something else?”

“Something else,” he replied.

“So like, are we talking about you being my sex slave?”

I moved my two fingers up his belly as if my hand was walking up his chest.  He giggled a little and I moved my hand over to his armpit as I pressed into him.  He grinned and contorted with my touch.

“How about just a personal slave to do my laundry?  I really hate picking up after myself.  You could do the dishes and sweep the floor.”

“No, you know,” he replied.

“I think I do but I want to hear you say it.”

“I want to like, you know, I can’t say it.”

I kissed and licked at him, got both hands into his armpits and began to tickle him, tickle his sides as I pushed my body over his until my knees were on either side of him, our chests pressed together I kissed at his neck.  He squirmed and giggled under me, I felt his knees shifting around.

“Stop it, I have to pee,” he said.

“Oh really,” I replied.

I could feel my hard dick in my underwear pressed against his dick trapped inside his diaper.  He pulled his hands out from under his head and tried to grab at my wrists but I had the leverage and I felt like he really didn’t want to stop me.  He could have stopped me, by telling me to stop, by forcibly grabbing my arms or pushing at my chest.  He outweighed me by about forty pounds of muscle.  He had been a wrestler and played basketball regularly.  He had all of the advantage physically, but he let me keep winning as I tickled him.  His laughter got louder when I found the sweet spots and he twisted under me so that he was on his side then on his chest.  His feet fluttered behind me and I grabbed one, tickled it, then grabbed the other and tickled it.

“I’m going to pee,” he said.

I grabbed at his sides, forced my fingers into his pits.  He began to breath so heavily, his face smashed into the pillow he turned to one side then the other for air.  I kept at him until it finally happened.  He pissed himself.  The laughter stopped and he suddenly wasn’t so ticklish.  I tapped him on the shoulder and motioned for him to roll onto his back so he did.  He looked up to me with his big, brown eyes, a single tear rolled down his cheek.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“I’m great,” he said.

“Good, because I’m not done with you,” I replied.

“No?”

“No,” I affirmed.

“What are you going to do to me next?”

I remembered something I had read online a long time ago.  It was one of those posts that come up in social media.  It might just be perfect for this type of thing.

“Well, with your permission, I’m going to help you feel and understand what it means to really lose control.”

“What are you going to do to me?”

“There’s something I read about on the internet that I wanted to try,” I said.

“What?”

“It involves bananas, a suppository, and a butt plug.”

“Is it going to hurt?”

“I don’t know.  You can read about it while I get the supplies,” I said.

He looked up to me with hope and fear in his eyes.  I leaned down into him, one hand at the back of his head, fingers in his hair, to pull him into a kiss, my other hand strayed down to his diaper.

“It looks like someone had an accident,” I said between kisses.

“Please,” he said, “I really want this.”

I pulled away from him and looked him in the eye.

“I really want this too,” I said.  “I want to do this for you, to you.  I can’t explain it but it’s like you’re giving me this power and I’m terrified of screwing it up.”

“We’ll do this together,” he said.

“I’m not sticking a banana up my ass,” I said with a wry smile.

“No, I mean, be there for each other,” he said.

We hugged, then of course he rolled me onto my side and as if just to prove some point he got on top of me and paused for a moment.  I could feel the full weight of him as he kissed me and held me down, then he stepped off me and off the bed and walked to the shared bathroom.  I looked over to his padded butt, his narrow waist, and muscled back.  It wasn’t just his body.  I trusted him and I believed he trusted me.