Fiction by Ricky Scarma
Boy named Scotty (PART 2: "Scotty's Scene")
Scottys dad towered over the two of us, his eyes pure fire, his lips pressed with a great deal of anger. I had spoken first, my lips trembling and the tips of my fingers going cold as I realized why and what I was doing. I was basically sentencing myself to a sore bottom. When I glanced Scottys direction though, I felt it was worth it all, even the pain.
"I found the bike." The man simply stated, shoving his thumb at the trunk. Neither of us had noticed the raised trunk, but there was no way of knowing that it contained the missing bike. We stared in disbelief, mouths agape.
"It was laying in the road about two blocks away," He explained, lugging the ten speed from the trunk, "You two are in deep trouble. I want you both in the den pronto!"
The two of us dashed for the den, our hearts sinking as we climbed the stairs from the living room into the downstairs den. Once there, we sat in silence for a few monents, staring off out at the pool and empty backyard. Richard must have found something more interesting to do, his holes abandoned.
"Are we both in trouble now?" I asked, stuttering the words as I cleared my throat.
"Uh-huh," Scotty grunted, his eyes distant and red.
I didn't say anything for a few seconds, merely studying the boys smooth cheeks and soft eyes. He was an angel, was all I could conjure soaking in his features while we waited our doom. Then I told him, "Sorry it didn't work out right."
"Thas okay. Sorry your going to get it too." He said, turning his clouding blue eyes to me, "I didn't mean it to happen that way, but thanks for wanting to take the blame." He pursed his lips and caught a tear with his right hand.
"I like you Scotty," I told him, half holding my breath as the boy drew close and gave me an awkward hug. His scent overcame me, engulfing my senses with the sweetest aroma of youth and innocence and beauty. I inhaled, savoring the aroma and holding it in my nostrils for as long as it would allow. His bare arms were soft against my cheek, his small head fragile, pressed against my chest. I didn't want the moment to end, but he pulled away as the sound of his dads footsteps echoed from the hall.
The door opened and there stood Scottys dad, a ping pong paddle clenched in his right hand. I gasped, gripping the couches arm while I invulentarily stood.
"Okay, you both seemed to be responsible for the bikes being found where it wasn't supposed to be," He stated, closing the door behind him, "So your both going to get your butts paddled. Your in my house, you follow my rules. If you don't, you suffer the consequences," His voice trailed on as he stepped towards the bay windows. Both of us, especially me, was hoping he'd close the curtains, but he made no effort for it, merely staring off at the distant clouds as if he were reading a script from the sky, "I don't care who was riding it last or why it ended up where it did. The fact was that you have to show responsiblity, you have to..."
He went on and on, until he finally turned back towards the two of us and told Scotty to stand up and pull his pants down. Scotty started sobbing right off, his face gripped in a storm of tears and an anxiety of what was about to happen to his little bottom. He stood and undid the snap to his shorts, letting them fall to his ankles. I swallowed hard, staring at the bleach white briefs that had now become the only garment on the boys body. His butt was beautifully formed, rounded and full. Within a few seconds he was pulling his briefs down to follow his shorts and I found myself staring, teeth clenched, eyes blurring. His penis was thick, round, and about 3 inches long laying on a full, hairless scrotum that showed no wrinkle or imperfection. When he turned to bend across the arm of the recliner his dad pointed at, I had full view of both front and back and kept my eyes transfixed, watching as he clenched his legs and his penis thrust forward from his body. His buttocks was muscular, untanned and perfectly round.
A moment later, the paddle whacked the center of both cheeks and Scotty howled, thrusting his body against the chair, his small penis wagging. His young face was contorted from the pain inflicted to his bottom, his eyes squeezed tight and flooding with tears. A moment later the paddle creased his right cheek. Scotty bucked against the chair, threw his blonde head back and through clenched teeth screamed.
I watched sullenly, knowing that I would be standing in the same position in a little while. My eyes were soaking in the scene before me though, my mind storing everything. Scottys young form was taut, clenching against the pain. His fingers and knuckles were white, digging into the chairs arm. His arms and slender legs gripped, defining every underdeveloped muscle in his eleven year old body. His buttocks flinched, clenching, unclenching to fight the burn while the paddle crossed both mounds with a resounding THWACK. Scottys dad was unyeilding in his work, paddling his sons bare butt with equal, determined strokes, ignoring his sons howling pleas.
THWACK!
"Pleeeeasseee daddy...."
THWACK!
"Uhhh...I'm sorry daddy...I'm..."
THWACK!
"Owwww...I'm sorry I'm sorry..."
THWACK!
"Please daddy it hurts!"
THWACK!
"OOOOO..."
THWACK!
Scotty was dancing now, his legs and hips twisting against the burn in his butt. His fingers hovered at his sides, begging to protect his stinging hindend, but there wasn't a moment of reprise at the paddle burned across his tender flesh.
THWACK!
Scottys face was wet, his blonde, silken hair plastered to his forehead, his cheeks nearly as red as his ass end from crying.
THWACK!
The paddle crossed both cheeks. Scotty thrust his hips towards the arm of the chair, ramming his now jutting penis against the underside.
THWACK!
My eyes focused on the boys rigid penis while the paddle made its mark. It stuck out from between the youngesters squirming legs like a diminutive javelin, waggling with each twist and turn of his hips.
THWACK!
Scotty thrust against the chair and his penis flopped against the arm. His scrotum was tight, taut against his body.
THWACK!
Scotty twisted out of control then, turning his hips and front my direction as he reached to caress his singed butt cheeks, his face gritting against the extreme pain.
"PLEASE DADDY PLEASE DADDY PLEASE DADDY!!!" Scotty howled, dancing as if he were walking on hot pavement, his little penis flopping. But his dad twisted his arm and turned him across the chair once again.
THWACK!
THWACK!
THWACK!
The strokes were fast and fierce. The boys body squirmed wildly under his dads grip, his legs kicking, his screams echoing each stroke of the paddle. Then he was unceremonously released.
Before he could grab his flaming backside, he was told to put his hands on his head and stand, with pants still down while the man and paddle turned their attention to me.
...to continue....