Stan the Man Part 2


by Trey <Treyga@hotmail.com>

If you remember, my name is Josh and I am going to college and living with my Dad's old Military Buddy, Stan. Stan is much younger than my Dad, but they were always close even after Stan left the Army. Well, I hadn't started off school on the best foot and a couple of times Stan had to set me right. Whipping my butt had taught me a good lesson. It had been about three months since Stan had to blister my backside.

Stan got all fumed up cause I had missed school. Well - overslept - and I had a test that day. I played sick when Stan came home and he quickly made me submit to a test to make sure I was sick enough to miss school. That was the most humiliating morning I had ever had! He pulled down my boxers and quickly shoved a thermometer up my 28 year old hole. When it came out normal, I got my ass blistered for lying.

Things had not been that bad since that day. In fact I didn't really think about it that much anymore. I started making better grades on my schoolwork and I wasn't hanging around those Frat boys so much anymore. I was trying to stay on the straight and narrow. It was hard, but I had been pretty successful ... until the end of the month.

I guess I had forgotten that Stan was my Dad's Buddy and not my roommate. He was really busy with work and hadn't been around as much as he used to be. He still called my teachers every two weeks for progress reports, even if he was travelling on business. I had gotten used to just hanging around the house at night. I wasn't supposed to go out Monday through Thursday, so I just watched TV or played Nintendo. Stan even played Nintendo with me a couple of times. I would eat dinner and then sit around in my tank undershirt and my boxers. Stan would call from out of town to make sure I wasn't off getting drunk with my Frat friends and then I'd go to bed.

Stan started staying home more often the next two weeks. We'd watch TV or play Nintendo and just have fun. A couple of times we got into a real playful wrestling match. Of course, Stan always won! The one to rip off the other's t-shirt and boxers won! I'd gotten so used to Stan, that I guess I started thinking he was one of MY buddies. He'd let me have a beer on a school night and all that kind of stuff. A couple of times, I hadn't thought anything of it, I just let some big ones rip. My buddies and I never cared. Stan didn't say anything at first, but after my fourth big fart of the evening, Stan suddenly looked at me and yelled, "Where the Hell were you raised, Son?!" His tone was pretty harsh and I knew my backside was getting prepared for some swats. Suddenly, his eyes bore into me and with authority he said, "Go upstairs and get a towel, my wide brown leather belt and then go into the garage and get the orange bucket we wash cars with - NOW!"

I was getting scared. It wasn't that big of a deal. He could have just said for me to stop. Instead I was getting some bad punishment. I got a big beach towel and his belt. I went downstairs and got the bucket and brought it into the den where Stan was sitting on the couch in his t-shirt and briefs. I went in with a sheepish look on my face. My eyes were looking at the carpet. I couldn't look at Stan. He told me to look at him straight in the face. When I did, he scared the _s_h_i_t_ out of me! He was so mad!

"What in Hell were you thinking, Boy?!"

I muttered, "I didn't think it was a big deal, Stan. I'm sorry if you're upset."

"Not a big deal? You're not in one of your good-for-nothing Frat friend's apartments! This is my home that I let you live in 'cause your Dad is about the greatest guy I know."

"I won't do it again, Stan. Can't we forget it, please?"

"That would be too easy, son. If you didn't respect me five minutes ago, what makes me think you're suddenly going to change?"

"Please, Stan. I'm not a bad kid..."

"That's just it, Josh. You are 28 and you act like you're 16! When are you gonna act like a man with hair on his balls!?"

"Stan..."

"Shut up, You're excuses are getting me even madder. Take off that tank and those boxers and stand in front of me, Now!"

I looked at him and his eyes said not to open my mouth. I took off the tank and then slipped my boxers to the floor. There I stood naked and ashamed.

"I want you to put the towel over the arm of the couch and then lean over it with your butt high in the air, legs spread waiting for me. And don't say a _f_u_c_k_ing thing."

"Yes, Sir." I meekly whispered.

Stan was gone a good ten minutes. I sat there feeling stupid and just like the little brat that Stan had said I was.

When he returned he said to look into the couch pillow and stay still. I wasn't going to do anything to piss him off any further so I stayed as still as I could. I felt his big hand on the small of my back and I thought the belt was going to come crashing down, but instead I felt something cold on my hole. It couldn't be the thermometer again! I hadn't lied about being sick! Stan said, "Raise your behind, Son and spread your legs so I get a clear shot of your puckered opening." Then I heard scissors and I was afraid of what Stan was doing.

"I just had to trim that crack, boy. Hold still."

Then I felt something cold go in there. It felt funny and bigger than the thermometer. It wasn't huge but it was deep in my gut now. Then I felt the warm liquid. I'd never felt that before. I was kind of afraid and I think Stan sensed it. "Stay calm, Son. It doesn't hurt - you'll just feel full."

Stan came around to my face and his hand was above his head. I could see his hairy armpit held above his head and his hand holding a yellow bag with what looked like maybe water. "If you're gonna lay around here and stink up the place, we're going to get rid of your gas and probably some other _s_h_i_t_ with it. We'll treat you like a little boy who needs help going potty. But we know you're an adult so we'll throw in some humiliation to make you remember how to behave in front of your elders."

"I'm sorry, Stan."

"Save it for later, Josh! You just need to concentrate on why you're getting washed out and punished."

I tried to stay still. I felt so _d_a_m_n_ stupid, with a hose in my ass and my head buried in the seat cushions of his couch. It felt like about five gallons had drained into me. Suddenly, I felt the hose slide out of me. I laid there while Stan did something behind me. I tried to look over and then a hard hand came down on my right cheek.

"I told you to look forward. Can't you even follow directions, young man?!"

I thought I would lose all the water when his hand met with my butt. "You better keep your hole tight, son. No letting go until I say so."

It seemed like forever, but it was only a few minutes before, Stan told me I could get up and let go in the bucket in the middle of the Den. I couldn't believe he wouldn't let me go to the hall bathroom! "Stan, may I please go to the bathroom to do this?" I pleaded - my voice cracking.

"I can wait all night. Go in the bucket or get back over the couch for your second dose."

I looked over at the bucket. It seemed so rude. I was beginning to have to release it very shortly. I walked over to the orange bucket and squatted down, my dick dangling over the edge.

"Don't miss, boy and get all of it out." Stan just sat in the chair and watched me.

I just squatted and let it all come out and into the empty bucket. There I was doing something so personal in front of my Dad's friend and my guardian. When I had finished, Stan told me to get back over the arm of the couch.

I couldn't believe he was going to do it again! I satrted to protest and to beg and plead with him. He just sat there motionless. "Get over it Now!" he yelled.

"No more discussion. Begin by doing what you are told and don't ask anymore questions. I'm _d_a_m_n_ tired of you and your mouth."

"I got over it, but couldn't help asking why I was getting two. That sealed it! Stan grabbed my boxers from the floor - the ones I'd been farting in and stuffed them in my mouth till I was gagged.

'You so much as touch those shorts and you'll be doing this with me everyday for a month!"

I felt a small tear fall down my cheek as I inhaled into the worn underwear. I tried not to start crying. Then I felt the tube back in my hole and Stan was over me again holding the bag. He just glared at me like he was so ashamed of my behavior.

"I guess I'll have to call your Dad and tell him you had to get two enemas to clean out your chute and some belt lashings to clean up your attitude!"

I couldn't believe he would tell my Dad about him having to clean out my butthole. I just tried to stay still until maybe Stan wasn't so mad at me. I was beginning to feel the water in my gut and my stomach began to hurt some.

I felt the hose pulled out and my hole shut to keep the water in.

"Hold it for at least a minute or two. When you're ready raise your right hand."

I closed my eyes and concentrated on keeping my hole shut. My dick started to get semi-hard with the water in my gut bearing down in my insides. I raised my hand.

"45 seconds. Not quite yet, boy!"

I waited and waited. Now I wanted that bucket more than anything. I raised my hand again.

Stan came over and took out my gag and told me to do my business. I hunched over to the bucket and squatted and let the liquid go. Stan was standing in front of me and I had a clear view of his _c_o_c_k_ and the outline of his big head. It was a really big head and it too was semi-hard. I tried not to look , cause I didn't want to get into anymore trouble, but there it was – so close I could smell his ball sweat.

"I want you to get it ALL out, Son. I want to hear a grunt or two so I'm sure."

I gritted my teeth and pushed all the liquid out.

"Over the couch, NOW!"

I ran to the couch and leaned over with my hands outstretched above my head on the cushions. I suddenly felt Stan wiping my ass crack with some toilet paper. He spread my cheeks and wiped me till I was dry.

"What were you thinking, Josh?! You think I want to hear you do that – it's just juvenile."

"I'm sorry, Stan, I....."

" Do you know anything besides 'I'm Sorry' ? I am so tired of your feable excuses!" With that he shoved the boxers back into my mouth with a sudden gust of force.

Then I heard the crack of the large belt – even before I felt it! It jerked me forward on the couch. Before I could recover, another blast assailed my cheeks. Then another! He was putting his whole body into whipping me. I started to feel the sweat in my pits and my legs. With each swat, I was visibly jerking forward making grunting noises into my shorts.

"You – Will – Behave – Like – An – Adult – Boy!" He yelled as his arm kept flailing onto my rear! Now the pain was intense and he had already kicked my legs apart since I was involuntarily moving them closer to avoid the belt.

He kicked them apart again. "I won't have you lose your position, Son! Reach behind you and spread your butt cheeks." I did as I was told and closed my eyes cause I didn't know what to expect next.

Suddenly the belt came down, not as hard – but hard, on my opening! Three swats in a row!

That was all I needed – even with a hardon from the whipping, I was breathing into my dirty shorts and the tears were flowing slowly down my cheeks.

"That won't stop me Josh. You're so smart you're probably forcing yourself to cry."

If he only knew how much I had tried not to cry! He wouldn't be saying that to me now!

He kept whipping my ass a few times more until it stopped.

"Pick up the bucket, dump it in the toilet , clean it out outside come back in and stand in the corner by the stereo with your hands behind your head."

I started to get up off the arm of the couch. He reached over and pulled out my boxers. "Put these on for the neighbors, but hurry!"

I did as I was told and cleaned out the bucket and then went to the corner.

"Are you wanting another thrashing, Josh?" Stan yelled at me when I was in the corner.

"No, Sir! I don't – What did I do?"

"Take your boxers off. You know to stand naked for punishment in this house!"

As I took off my shorts, I started to cry again. I guess from the spanking and from dissapointing Stan and because Stan was going to call my Dad. I didn't know, but I was starting to cry and my breathing was getting deep.

"Grow Up, Josh" With that he shoved the shorts back in my mouth. "Cry into your underwear, little boy." With that I started to cry even more. I did feel like an immature brat.

Stan left me alone in the corner. "Finish up your crying fit and when you're done and think you deserve to go to bed, come find me." With that Stan left the room. I stayed there for about 10 minutes and finally got the courage to go into his bedroom and ask permission to go to bed.

The next day, Stan sat me down and told me that he had decided not to tell my Dad. He had to be mean yesterday, to get my attention and the only that was getting through to me was being a little humiliated. I needed to be a better boy around the house.

Things got better for a few weeks. I was careful not to anger Stan and not to go around breaking wind and all. I'd learned my lesson! Of course, I guess I can't stay out of trouble too long.

One Saturday morning, Stan had just gotten home from a trip that morning and was taking a shower. We were going to go to lunch and a movie since we hadn't seen each other all week. I was showered and watching TV in the den on the same couch that I had been paddled on just last month.

Suddenly I hear Stan yell at the top of his lungs, "JOSH, GET IN HERE RIGHT NOW!"

I bolted up and ran into his bedroom. He was in his bathroom with a towel around his waist. His hairy chest was broad and he had big muscles from working out. The medicine cabinet was open and it smelled like cologne. The bottle was tipped over.

"Did you come into my bathroom and use my cologne?"

"No."

"Don't you lie to me, Josh, it will just dig a hole deeper for your." Stan said.

"No, Stan really....." I couldn't help lying – I didn't want the day to start like this.

"One more chance, Son. Did you come into my bathroom and borrow my things?"

There was a great silence. I lowered my head and softly said, "Yes, Sir. I guess I forgot to put the cap on tight. I was in a hurry to meet my friends out last night."

"Get in the bedroom and you better start removing your clothes, Josh." Like a robot I started to take off my t-shirt and jeans. Stan came in to the bedroom just as I was undressed except for my white briefs.

"I didn't mean to do anything wrong, Stan, I just wanted......" my voice trailed off. Before I knew it, Stan had stepped over to me and had my chin in his hand and was looking down on me with a severe scowl.

"You've said enough and you're digging a deep hole. I suggest you shut-up and take off those BVDs."

"I'll do whatever...." Again, why can't I just keep my mouth shut?!

Stan threw his towel to the floor and sat on the bed and threw me over his lap. His hand came crashing down on my butt making a popping sound each time.

He was yelling and telling me how expensive the cologne was and I could only feel his hand on my butt. It was burning my butt to a bright red. I could feel it.

I could also feel his hardon next to my body and I started to get a hug hardon even though he was wailing on my ass – yelling at me about the cologne. He was taking all his aggression out on me. I was thrashing around and I began to let the tears go. I was crying and he was holding my head down and slapping my cheeks harder and harder.

Suddenly he stopped. I guess he noticed that I was crying hard now. He became silent and then he began to cradle me and I had my arms wrapped around his waist and I was crying into his stomach. I looked down and bleary eyed I could see his huge dick leaking pre-cum. I felt a small push on my head and before I knew it, I had a man's dick in my mouth. I was impaled with his rod and I was loving pleasing him. The crying stopped and I couldn't believe that I was doing this thing to Stan.

I would be whipped again, but our relationship certainly had changed.


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