A bell rang.
The spanker at stationWWpaused to stroke my cheeks. He touched me lightly;yet, though his touch was gentle, a soreness moved across my ass with the motion of his hand, following like a puppy close on the heels of its master (but it was my ass that felt the bite, not the master). He was a big man, muscular - a body-builder. His calf muscles flexed under shaved skin as he shifted my position on his lap. I had sixty more spanks to take from his hand before he was through with me.
He laid five fast smacks onto the bottom of my right cheek, and five onto my left. Then he paused to rub. He was spanking me hard, but there was a gentleness in the way he held me on his lap and the way he paused to stroke me that made me comfortable with him. In fact, the harder he smacked me, the more I liked him. I was beginning to enjoy it.
When I had arrived at the body-builder's station, he was removing
his black robe. Perhaps he was heated from spanking the three boys
ahead of me. Or, possibly, it was an act designed to intimidate. His
body certainly was intimidating. I had looked anxiously at the
enormous muscles, thinking the sooner I was past this one, the
better. When Dad told me to bid one hundred, I thought he was
joking. "Why stop there?" I responded. "Why not one million?"
He
laughed. "Don't worry. Sam won't hurt you."
Sam, stripped to
bulging bikini briefs, seemed to me quite capable of hurting a bull
moose with one swat. Knowing better than to argue with Dad, though, I
bid one hundred and crawled over the man's hard thighs.
Now I was worried. My _c_o_c_k_ was hardening between those thighs, gripped by them as though the muscles in his legs were stroking me, pulling at the head of my _c_o_c_k_ while his hand smacked my ass. I was breathing hard, and pleasure was welling up inside me. When he paused again to stroke my ass, running his fingers lightly between my cheeks and over my hole, shudders coursed through my body. Desperately trying to distract myself, I concentrated on multiplication tables.1 X 1 = 1His hand was burning my bottom, and the heat seemed to reach into the tip of my _c_o_c_k_ with every swat, smacking pleasure into it.Stop it! Don't think about it. 1 X 2 = 2. I can't stand up in front of all these people with an erection! 1 X 3 = 3His finger circled my hole, then moved lightly down to my balls, barely touching them;but his strokes caused a sensation as powerful and shocking as a cattle prod.1 X 4 = 5 no! 4 no!Spasms were wracking my stomach, and I knew everyone could hear my moans. But I couldn't stop.
Five more stinging
swats, this time with both hands on both cheeks.2 X no! where
was I?I reached between his legs with one hand and felt the head
of my _c_o_c_k_, hard like something foreign, as though it was part of
his body and not mine. Suddenly he gripped my neck and bent his head
close to mine. "If you do that without my permission, boy, you'll
regret it."
Immediately, I let go my _c_o_c_k_ and stretched my
arm out to the floor.5 X 1 = 5, 5 X 2 =He spread my legs
and lit into the backs of my thighs with a fierceness that made me
scream out with pain. He had me locked in position and I struggled
against his arm. It was as hard as an iron band around my waist. "I'm
sorry!" I hollered.
Once again he paused to stroke me. The terrible pain had softened my _c_o_c_k_, and it now slipped from between his thighs.Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.I had lost count. I might have had four more swats coming, or forty more. His hand once again smacked my cheeks, alternating this time, five on each. I felt my hips sway, pressing back first the left cheek to meet his hand, then the right, matching his rhythm, hungering for the sting that sent electrifying pleasure through my body. Then his finger was inside me, and his thighs again gripped my _c_o_c_k_.Oh God! No! 8 X 8 = oh, no! please don't!His other hand swatted underneath, pounding his finger deeper into me with every smack. The pleasure swelled into my chest as though it were roaming across my skin. I reached up to touch it and felt that my nipples had hardened. Something made me squeeze them between my fingers, and pain shot from them through my stomach to my _c_o_c_k_;burning pleasure shot back. I squeezed harder, twisting until I thought I could bear no more. Another finger entered me. And another. Then he pulled them out and spanked my ass, making me buck on his lap as though I were _f_u_c_k_ing his legs.
His fingers were inside me again, and I knew I wouldn't be able to hold off. Unbearable pleasure engulfed me. Suddenly, he opened his legs and grabbed my _c_o_c_k_, squeezing it hard, cutting off my release the way I would cut off the flow of water in the garden hose when I washed Dad's car. I felt the surge of cum fight against the constriction of his hand then back off as though it were retreating into my body. Then it surged again, but weaker this time. And again. Eventually, it surged no more, and he released my _c_o_c_k_. When he gripped me around the waist and raised my ass for the final assault, I knew he would soften my _c_o_c_k_ before letting me up. And I was grateful. He touched the backs of my thighs, and I spread my legs, hoping it would hurt enough to drive away the pleasure.
With the first swat, I knew I'd be able to stand up without embarassment. Nothing, even my last strapping from Dad, had stung as much as the body-builder's hand now did on my thigh. It hurt like the worst strap in the world. After five on each leg, he stopped, and I became aware that my _c_o_c_k_ was once again draped loosely over his skin.
He raised me from his lap so that I stood before him and pulled me
closer between his legs. I fell against him, and he hugged me. "Good
boy."
As his hand roamed over my ass, I whispered, "Thank
you."
I saw, when I turned from him, that the crowd was
milling through the barn and that most of the spanking had
stopped. When the ref handed me my cloak, I asked him what was
happening.
"Didn't you hear the bell? The first of the boys
reached the last of the spankers."
"What do you mean?"
Dad had
come up behind me and now said, "When all the spankers have been used,
we take a half hour break. You're free for the next half hour. When
you hear the bell again, just go to the next station."
"Okay."
He took my cloak, holding it so I could slip my arms into the sleaves.
As I tied the belt, he said, "Let's go outside where it's cool and get
you something to drink."
I followed him through the crowd
to a refreshment stand. It was dark outside now, and men poured from
the barn into the cool evening air. Reg joined us in line at the
stand, smiled at me, and said, "I hear you've been doing well."
"Yeah?" I replied, not sure how to take a compliment from my brother.
I was saved from having to say more by Dad, who turned to us to ask
what kind of drink we wanted.
Sucking lemonade through a
bent straw, I turned to look over the crowd, while Dad paid for the
drinks. The new boy with the Grim Strappers stood by another
refreshment stand, sipping from a Coke can. When he noticed me looking
at him, he smiled. I smiled and turned away, suddenly a little
embarassed. Dad told Reg and I that he was going to have a talk with
Butch Redner. We were to stay near the barn, but to relax and have
some fun. Before he left, Dad said to Reg, "Keep an eye on your
brother and make sure he doesn't get into any trouble."
"Sure,
Dad."
We watched him disappear into the barn. Then Reg
turned to me and said, "Okay brat. You heard what Dad said. Stay out
of trouble. I'm gonna go talk to some friends. Just hang out here and
don't give anybody any of your famous lip."
"Sure." I didn't feel
very lippy at all. When Reg walked away, leaving me alone with my
lemonade and sore bum, I felt more shy and uncomfortable than anything
else. I wandered away from the crowded path to a tree and leaned
against it, keeping my butt well away from the bark. Lights were
strung between the trees, but their glow was milder than the glare of
the barn, so I felt hidden in shade under the boughs. I sipped my
lemonade and watched the crowds. Laughter and excited talk seemed to
surround me, airborne like the smell of candied popcorn. Perversely, I
practiced squeezing the straw, stopping the flow of lemonade to my
mouth, then releasing it suddenly to suck in a quick mouthful.
A voice behind me said, "I hear you take a lickin' well."
I
whirled around and faced the Grim Strappers' boy. He leaned with one
hand on the tree, close to me. Several inches taller, he seemed to
tower over me, and I pressed back against the tree, feeling
trapped.
"I don't know," I mumbled.
He smiled. "Is this your
first time?"
"Yup." I looked up at him. He was good-looking. A
faint shadow of a beard surrounded his wide mouth. I guessed him to be
a couple of years older than me, probably Reggie's age.
"Let me
see your marks," he said.
"Well...I don't know."
"C'mon," he
said, turning away and speaking to me over his shoulder. "Follow
me. I know a place. You can check out my marks, too."
I glanced
back at the crowd, but didn't see Reg, so I followed the guy through
the trees. From the back, he seemed even bigger. I had already seen
his body inside the barn, but something made me want to see more.
"I thought you were new, too," I said.
He slowed his pace to let
me catch up, saying, "I'm new here, but I've been with the Strappers
for a couple of years now."
"I see."
"My pa is the
leader. He's been trainin' me pretty hard for this."
There was a
intensity in the way he spoke of his pa that made me hesitate before
asking, "Is he going to be pissed if you guys don't win?"
He
glanced at me, shrugged, and said, "Who knows?"
We had
reached a wooden shed tucked away in a thicket of bushes. There were
no lights in the trees, and I felt a little uneasy in the dark with
him. He opened the door, reached inside, and turned on a light. I
followed him inside. Cords of wood were stacked against the walls,
leaving only a small space open in the middle. "Name's Jeff," he said,
reaching around me to close the door. I moved back against the logs,
feeling him press against me.
"Mike," I said, turning to set my
lemonade cup on the woodpile. He pulled up my robe and ran his hand
over my ass, smacking it lightly.
"Nice," he said.
"Not as
nice as yours," I replied, turning to face him. "I saw you in
there."
He smiled, standing very close, and unfastened his belt. The cloak opened slowly on a chest that seemed to grow wider before my eyes. A tee-shaped patch of blonde hair covered the tops of his pecs and ran in a straight line down to his stomach, where it broadened over deep muscles. It looked almost as if the top of the tee had been hung on his nipples. His _c_o_c_k_ floated in a wide arc from a thick patch of brown hair. As he unfastened my belt and opened my robe, his _c_o_c_k_ thickened and rose until it touched mine, then slid up onto my stomach. He pushed the robe from my shoulders and reached for my nipples. Instantly, my _c_o_c_k_ was hard between his legs. His robe fell to the ground, and I reached around and felt his ass. Hot to the touch, hard and full, it flexed in my hands as he pumped his _c_o_c_k_ against me. I could feel the welts, hard ridges from the cane and crop, and I traced them, pinching them between my fingers. He moaned and pumped faster against me. Lowering his head to my chest, he took a nipple between his teeth, ran his hands down my body to my _c_o_c_k_, and began stroking me.
Then he was on his knees and my _c_o_c_k_ was in his throat. His hands twisted my nipples. The jolts of pain burst into pleasure just as they had in my own hands over the last spanker's lap. The release I had then craved came now, and I shuddered against his face as streams of pleasure poured through me and from me.
I leaned back on the
woodpile, drained. He stood up. His smile seemed now more like a
sneer. "Have you ever been spanked after cumming?" he said.
I
shook my head slowly, saying nothing.
"Well," he continued,
donning his cloak and opening the door, "I don't think you're gonna be
much competition from now on."