Snowspank


by Aardvark 51 <Aardvark51@hotmail.com>

Tom was a single man. He had one brother, Steve, who was married - and they had one child, a son, Kevin, aged 13. Steve and his wife had not planned Kevin; they were a business couple, wed to business; and business was their real child. So they were happy to let Tom have Kevin most holidays and Kevin was happy to be with Tom, whom he liked better than his neglectful parents.

Kevin at 13 was an attractive boy, tall, slender, with light brown hair, cut quite short but no way cropped. He was not at the girlfriend stage, but he was no longer a little boy.

Tom and Kevin had always had a physical kind of relationship - cuddles and rough-and-tumble were still common even at 13, initiated by both of them. Often in rough and tumbles Tom would playfully spank Kevin over his shorts, long trousers, or pajamas; and sometimes, when provoked beyond endurance by Kevin's mischievousness, Tom would seriously spank Kevin over the knee, but always still clothed.

Although Tom was on the hetero_s_e_x_ual side of bi_s_e_x_ual and certainly no pedophile, he did derive a certain _s_e_x_ual excitement from spanking his young nephew and Kevin seemed quite deliberately sometimes to engineer situations where he had little alternative. A sound spanking could reduce Kevin to tears, but seemed ultimately cathartic for both of them.

As Kevin moved into his teens, his mischief bacame more serious and Tom started to express a long-imagined fantasy in the form of a threat: "One of these days, I'll take your clothes right off and spank you bare-butt in front of an audience." To which Kevin was wont to reply, "Yeah, yeah, uncle!" in an amused and disparaging way.

So Tom had secretly started to make a plan, which had begun with an advert in a male-male spanking magazine. Gradually, he had sifted the responses down to three guys who really liked the idea of watching him spank his nephew. With this in place, he waited for Kevin to supply the pretext.

When Kevin did supply the pretext, he did so in a big way, being caught stealing software from a local computer shop; Tom only avoided prosecution by promising to let the owner give Kevin a sound spanking. So now there were three men wanting to watch Kevin's downfall and one wanting to engineer it. Tom talked to Kevin and offered two choices: a barebutt spanking in front of his father and the three men (he made out the three were friends of the shopkeeper); or police action and being sent home. What would you have chosen?

The question now was where to have the punishment. This was solved for him by the shopkeeper, who said it was to take place in locations chosen by him, starting with the storeroom at the back of his shop. He also specified how Kevin was to be dressed, specifications which required a journey to the local shopping mall.

So it was that on a bright, cold winter Sunday morning, three middle-aged men, Tom, and Kevin gathered in the storeroom of the computer shop, with Alan, its manager. The three man recruited by Tom were there on condition they simply watched and did not participate. Alan called the shots for the whole event.

Kevin was dressed in blue denims, white socks and trainers, and an orange T-shirt, over which he wore an anorak.

The storeroom was much as you might imagine, a miserable kind of place, not large, made to seem smaller by stacks of cardboard boxes; there was a polished stone floor, a single-bulb overhead light casting a cold white glare, no window, and a small two bar electric fire.

Alan had distributed boxes around the edge of the small area of free floorspace on which the men, still in coats, sat. Alan himself sat on a wooden chair and had Kevin stand in the middle.

"Now Kevin," Alan said, "you have agreed to accept what I decide to day and you know it will all end with a bare-butt spanking. Is this correct?"

"Yes Sir," Kevin said. He was feeling very apprehensive.

"I am glad you are calling me Sir," Alan said, "and make sure it stays that way. You will have to be obedient, whatever I order. Are you wearing the underclothes I specified?"

"Yes Sir."

"Right. Take off your trainers and jeans and give them to me."

This shocked Kevin, who was not expecting the action to begin so soon. Shivering a little, not so much from cold as from fear, he removed and handed over his shoes and jeans. Apart from an expanse of smooth bare leg from just above the knee to the top of his short white cotton socks, Kevin exposed nothing by this, but he felt infinitely more exposed, and the floor was cold.

Alan handed Kevin a pair of thick grey woollen socks. "Put them on over your cotton socks."

Kevin hopped from foot to foot as he put them on. He couldn't understand what this was about.

Kevin's woollen socks on, Alan produced a pair of black rubber wellington boots. "Put them on."

Kevin put on the boots. They fitted. Only the area round his knees was now bare, but he felt ridiculous and was still shyly aware he wore no trousers.

"Take off the top coat."

He had not been looking forward to this. He unzipped the coat and removed it, giving it to Alan. He was now dressed in his long orange T-shirt, which concealed his briefs, and wellington boots.

"And your T-shirt."

Feeling utterly scared and humiliated, Kevin took off the T-shirt. Now he stood before them bare-torso down to his briefs, which were bright pink satin and skimpy, displaying an explicit profile of his soft dick and balls.

"Put this on." Alan handed him a bright white thermal vest, quite long.

Kevin, who had thought himself about to be made naked, was surprised again as his lurid underpants disappeared beneath his vest.

Alan handed him back the T-shirt. "Put it back on."

He did.

Alan produced a bright scarlet woollen pullover, polo neck. "This too."

Kevin obeyed. Now he wore the pullover almost to his knees, but still he had no trousers.

Alan handed him scarlet woollen gloves and a scarlet woollen bobble hat. Kevin put these on too. He felt warmer now, but very strange.

Gathering all Kevin's discarded clothes into a bag, he led them out the back of the store to an enclosed yard, where he had parked his 9-seater vehicle. Kevin was put on the middle front seat, Tom on the outer front seat, Alan was driving, the three witnesses were put in the back.

Alan drove out through town. Sitting where he was, Kevin's pullover and vest rode up, exposing thigh as well as knee, and Alan's hand quite often brushed his bare skin as he changed gear. Kevin was also very aware, especially at first, of the coldness of the seat on the underside of his thigh and even on his buttocks, clad so thinly.

They drove up into the hills and then into the mountains, where the snow lay thick. There were few vehicles on the road. They turned down a side road, driving on impacted snow now. A mile down the road, there was a sign to a picnic area, and they turned onto a track deep in fresh snow, without any other wheeltracks to evidence recent visitors. After about half a mile, they came into a clearing, with bays set into the forest for individual vehicles, and a large log cabin set in the centre. Alan switched off the engine.

There was a long silence, which made Kevin feel deeply uncomfortable. It was, kind of, ominous. "Go to that first wooden picnic table," Alan said. "Then take off your pullover and tuck both vests into your briefs."

Kevin climbed out onto the snow and stopped for a moment, expecting others to do the same. When they did not, he shut the door and trudged across to the picnic table, where he did as he had been told. The two vests tucked only with difficulty into his thin skimpy satin briefs, and flaps from them hung out of the legs of the briefs. He felt stupid, standing there in the snow, facing the car, wearing bobble hat, gloves, wellingtons, vests and briefs. They left him there for some while.

Eventually, Alan got out of the vehicle and went over to him. Kevin realized he had changed into a black leather jacket, black peaked hat, black leather trousers and shiny black boots, with black leather gloves. He brushed the fresh snow from the wooden table and told Kevin to lie on it face down. The other men, including his uncle, all gradually joined them, also in black leather, standing round the table.

Alan roughly yanked his underwar to his knees and folded his vests up to his shoulders. The front of him suddenly felt cold, on the cold wooden table. His cute round arse was bare. "Here's the first instalment," Alan said. He took off a leather glove and whipped it down hard on Kivin's bottom. His father also removed one glove. They took it in turns to irritate and then redden his buttocks.

Then they suddenly stoppped. There was another pause. Kevin's arse felt hot; his chest, stomach, thighs, dick and balls so cold. Alan's gloved hand stroked his butt cheeks and some way into his cleft. "Get your pants back on and stand up," he ordered roughly.

Kevin slid off the cold, cold table and hoisted his thin briefs. Alan led them all to the log cabin, where there was a public washroom, basins, urinals, cubicles. It was a touch warmer in here.

They gathered in a circle round Kevin. "Strip!" Alan ordered.

"What, everything?"

"Everything except your boots and socks. Hurry up."

Kevin pulled off his vests, dropping them on the tiled floor; then, again, he hopped from one foot to the other, inelegantly shedding his briefs.

"Hands on head."

He put his hands on his head. His _c_o_c_k_ was soft and only just showing a few pubic hairs. Alan reached forward and placed one gloved hand on his lower stomach, the other on his arse. "You're ours, Kevin," he said. "We could do anything with you in here." One hand slid down until it was just at the base of Kevin's dick, though not actually touching the shaft. The other hand slid between his thighs to the very edge of the back of his scrotum. To his utter horror and embarrassment, his _c_o_c_k_ started to grow, and grow, and finally go solid.

"You seem to like this," Alan said, grasping the boy's tube in his gloved hand. "Spread your legs."

Kevin spread his feet wider. Alan still had his dick.

"Bend over and hold your ankles."

He did so, spreading his cheeks wide. Alan let go of his dick and stroked his arsehole. "Nice pussy!" he exclaimed. "You need to think twice before you steal from a man like me. I could do anything I liked in here. Beg me to be kind. Go on."

"Please be kind, Sir."

"OK. Stand up and scamper over to the car. Lie across the bonnet."

It was at least still warm, lying over the bonnet. They pulled off his boots and socks so he was stark naked. And Alan belted him with a leather strap until he was yelling for mercy. Alan lifted him off and rolled him over and over in the fresh white snow, rubbing snow between his arse cheeks, all over his arse, dick and balls, until he was hard all over again. Then he made him stand on the picnic table and wank until he came.....

... ...


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