It was a privilege to be at Steevo's swim camp; all the boys knew that. Steevo had been an Olympic silver medalist in 400m relay, and he was training just four boys to follow in his wake. Brandon, Ty, Randy and Jonny knew that, and they were expected to perform and work as a team. Steevo had the University pool reserved for the last two hours, on week-ends, so that he could whip them into shape. The four boys were the best swimmers in the whole area: all of them had been top swimmers in high school, and had been chosen from over two hundred teenaged boys, all eager to get in.
"I want to form a special team," Steevo had told them at tryouts. "Some of you may think you are good, but a relay team needs to share a special bond, and you will need to work with me. I know the kind of boys I'm looking for, and you better be able to cut it, and work together. I am going to be tougher on you than any coach you've ever had, and most of you won't make the cut. The boys I train are going to be champions, and I won't take anyone who isn't ready to work his ass off. Is that clear?"
All twenty of the finalists had pledged their faith, but now, two weeks later, only Bran, Ty, Randy and Jonny were left.
And it was hard work. After a Saturday workout, all four boys were exhausted. They stood, shivering in the chilly April air in their wet Speedos, while Steevo looked over his clipboard, the ever-present stopwatch around his neck, shaking his head disapprovingly.
"Your times are _s_h_i_t_!" He said. "There is a weak link here, and you all know where it is. If you guys can't whip yourselves into shape, then I guess I'm wasting my time!" With that, he stalked off to his office.
All eyes looked down the line to Brandon. His turns were sloppy and everyone knew he wasn't putting out like he should. Brandon looked down at the water, then headed for the locker room, alone.
"He's going to _f_u_c_k_ it up for us all!" Ty finally said, brushing black hair out of his eyes. Seventeen year-old Ty Nguyen was the youngest of the four, and the smallest, but his powerful stroke made him the team's dependable anchor. The Vietnamese boy shook himself and rubbed his arms against the cold. His black eyes flashed fire.
"Yeah," Randy agreed, shaking the water out of his long blond hair. "Dewd needs a lesson ..."
"He's gonna get one, too!" Randy said. "You guys ever hear of a redbelly?"
"Uh, uh," Ty said.
"What's that?" Jonny asked.
"Well," Randy grinned. "You guys never went to Scout camp ..." he outlined the plan, and the others grinned, too. "Coach is out of here before we leave, usually, so it's just us ... and him!" They laughed together, then headed up the stairs to carry out their plan.
"Okay," Ty said, at the top of the stairs. "Coach's Blazer is gone!"
"Kewl!" Randy said, right behind him on the stairs. Passing the office, he tried the door: it was locked. It was never locked when Steevo was there. They sauntered into the locker room, where Brandon, wearing only his briefs, was toweling his curly brown hair.
"Oh, hey, Bran!" We got something to show you ..." Jonny said, walking over to Brandon. The slender boy looked up.
"What?" he asked. Then: "Hey!" as Jonny grabbed his arms from behind.
"Get him!" Randy shouted, and Ty rushed to grasp the hapless boy's ankles as Jonny pulled him backwards onto the wooden bench between the rows of lockers.
"Wha...what? Hey!" Brandon protested, as he was laid lengthwise along the bench. He struggled, but to no avail, as Ty held his ankles, on either side of the rough boards, and Jonny his arms. They stretched him out.
"Ever hear of a redbelly?" Randy said, standing over him. The sight of Brandon, so helpless and exposed, his rippled stomach and straining pectoral muscles stretched along the bench, made his balls tingle. He felt himself getting hard in his wet Speedo.
"COACH!" Brandon shouted. "Coach! Help!"
"Nobody's here to help you now, wussy-boy!" Ty grinned up from between his legs. "You're getting a redbelly!" Ty's own boner would have been obvious, if he hadn't been crouching on the floor.
"Please ... don't! I'm sorry!" Brandon whimpered. He arched his back to look behind him: Jonny held his shoulders tight to the bench with his knees. Brandon's eyes were inches away from the crotch of Jonny's blue Speedo, and his eyes fixed upon the head of an obvious erection.
"P...p..lease," he pleaded. "D...d...don't rape me!" They all laughed at that.
"Rape? We're about as queer as you are, asshole!" Ty said. From his viewpoint he could see the round globes of Bran's balls beneath the thin white cotton of his briefs, and the swelling curve of his organ, bigger than he had ever thought it could be, and they had been in the shower together ... how many times? His own _d_i_c_k_ was stretching his Speedo to new limits. This was great!
"Here's your redbelly, slacker!" Randy said. He brought his flattened palm down across Brandon's tight abdomen hard, with the stinging slap of the palm of his hand, not with the heel, so it stung like fire.
"Owooo!" Brandon shrieked. "Coach!"
"Coach won't help you now, wussy-boy!" Randy replied. He smacked Brandon's rippled stomach again and again, until it was pink, and Brandon begged for mercy.
"Please!" Brandon blubbered. "It hurts like fire! Please! I'll do anything!" He gazed up at his tormenter with tearing eyes: Randy's _c_o_c_k_ stood straight out through wet nylon. "I'll suck your _d_i_c_k_. I will. Please!"
This brought guffaws from his tormenters.
"Fag!" Ty said, ever though he had been stroking his own boner through the wet fabric.
"Turn him over!" Randy ordered. Between the three of them, they pulled Brandon upside down, straddling the bench.
"Hold him tight," Randy said. He opened his locker and pulled the belt out of his jeans., hanging there. "He's got a red belly, so let's give him a red ass to match it!"
"Yeah!" Ty , holding the helpless victim's ankles, reached out and pulled his briefs down. The boy's lily-white butt-cheeks tensed.
"Please!" Brandon begged. Randy's belt crossed his tightened bottom with a CRACK!
"Owooo!" Brandon howled. "Owww!" as the belt striped his ass again and again. Randy laid into him until his untanned butt was redder than his suntan.
"Who's next?" Randy asked, breathing hard.
"Let me have some!" Ty said. "You grab his ankles!" When he stood up, the head of his _c_o_c_k_ was obvious against his Speedo.
"Sure ..." Randy said. He started to change places with Ty, when the world cave in.
"What in the _f_u_c_k_ing hell is going on here?" Steevo's voice filled the room. Instantly, all of the boys stood up, except, of course, Brandon.
"Uh, nothing, Coach ..." Ty said, meekly.
"I want all of you boys in my office, right now: and that means RIGHT NOW!", Steevo bellowed. He turned on his heel and left the locker room. All four boys looked at each other. In a moment, they stood in front of the office door.
"I thought you said he wasn't here!" Randy said.
"I guess we're in for it now," Jonny said, mournfully. "And it's Ty's fault."
"Enter," The four boys filed in.
"I don't have to ask what's been going on," Steevo said, looking directly at Brandon's red belly. "I've seen it before. You boys think that one of you is the weak link in this team; it's not one of you. It's all of you. You all enjoyed making Brandon the scapegoat for your own shortcomings, but it is a fault you all share. If you're going to be a team, you'll learn to take your punishment as a team. Now, who's idea was it to give Brandon a redbelly?"
The four boys, shivering in their wet Speedos, said nothing. Even Brandon, his abdomen and bottom smarting from the licks he had received, was silent.
"All right," Steevo said, quietly, sliding off of the desk and taking his hands out of the pockets of his jeans. "anyone who wants to leave the program: walk out. If you stay, you will be subject to my discipline. Well?"
"Okay," Steevo said. He reached into a desk drawer and produced a paddle: it was made of rubber, about an inch thick, five inches across, and two feet long. It had a wooden handle. He laid it on the desk.
"Whose idea was it?"
There was a long pause.
"If nobody speaks up," he said. "You're all off the team. I won't tolerate liars and wussies."
"it was my idea," Randy finally said. "I talked them into it."
"Good, Randy," Steevo said. He handed the paddle to Brandon. "Give them each five licks ... hard. Then hit the shower."
"Oh, yeah!" Brandon took the paddle.
"Put your hands on my desk and bend over!" Steevo commanded. The three culprits complied. The desk was low, and their butts were in the air. All three were conscious of the thinness of a wet Speedo.
Brandon aimed the paddle at Ty's ass ...
...and at Jonny's ...
...and, hardest, at Randy's lovely, well-rounded behind ...
"Go ahead, boy," Steevo said. "Let me know when they've had enough."
The next fifteen minutes passed like hours for the boys, bent-over. By the time Brandon had finished with them, all three were squirming.
"I guess that's enough," Steevo finally said. "Stand up and turn around."
All three boys, butts on fire, turned to face Steevo and Bran. Bran's erection , tenting his BVDs, was as obvious as his triumphant grin.
"Hit the showers, Bran," Steevo said. "I'll deal with them." Then, they were alone.
"Randy, you confessed to being the ringleader of this conspiracy," Steevo said. "Now you will give Ty and Jonny each ten licks."
"No argument. First Ty and then Jonny; and, if I think you haven't hit them hard enough, I will give them each ten more, and you ten more, too. Do you understand?"
So Randy lined up behind Ty. Ty was his best friend. The cute Vietnamese boy bent over, his wet Speedo outlining his tight, round buttocks. Randy's _c_o_c_k_ throbbed.
Whack! Whack! Ten times!
Then it was over. Ty stood up, tears leaking down his handsome face, rubbing his tender ass.\
Now it was Jonny's turn: Jonny's ass was round and muscular, different from Ty's, but still beautiful. He aimed and gave it all he could: if he didn't, he knew it would be worse.
When it was over, Jonny stood up, sobbing, rubbing his bottom.
"You can go get dressed," Steevo said to Brandon, lurking at the door, whose harden was more than obvious. "Now, you: Randy!"
"Please, Steve, .... " Randy started.
"Your buddies will give you ten licks apiece!"
Randy allowed himself to be bent over the desk. He caught a glimpse of Ty's eye and tried to say "I did it for you", but the paddle set his ass on fire, and, before the ten licks were over, he was howling.
"C'mon, Jonny ...." he pleaded, but Jonny beat his butt raw.
"Stand up!" Steevo said. Randy did, rubbing his sore ass, tears streaming down his face.
"Pleez!" Randy cried.
"Shut up!" Steevo ordered. He pulled the boy across his lap.
Randy felt the fingers at his waist, loosening the strings of his Speedo, He felt the waistband slip down, across his hips, exposing his bare bottom.
"You're getting what you deserve, in front of everyone, you little _s_h_i_t_!"
And he wriggled and he fought, and it hurt and he loved it.