POWERLESS BOY - Part Three (Last)
Richard was woken the next morning by Paul who, once Richard was fully awake, drew back the covers and had the naked thirteen year old lie on his stomach so his bum could be inspected for results from the previous day's spanking. The spanking had not been unduly severe and now there was only a very slight redness.
"What are we doing today, Sir?" Richard asked, as Paul completed his inspection.
Paul lay the palm of one hand on the small of Richard's firm young back and stroked gently as he spoke: "You have been very obedient so far, Richard. I am pleased with you. So today you will have a rest from being spanked and the opportunity, so to speak, to be on the other side of the fence."
"How do you mean, Sir?"
"That will be clearer to you later on. Meanwhile, you are still my naughty little boy....", Paul's hand strayed down Richard's buttocks and tickled his arsecrack, "... and I am going to give you a shower. Come."
He led Richard by the hand to the bathroom, drew back the shower curtain, adjusted the water temperature, had Richard step in and proceeded to hose him down, paying special attention first to his penis, which was soon hard from the jetting water, before turning him round, having him kneel head downward and arse in the air on the floor of the shower, and getting his first look at Richard's tight little brown arsehole before thoroughly showering it. Richard clearly liked this because his sphincter started to open and contract in response.
After he had dried Richard, paying careful attention to his lower regions, he led him back to the bedroom and gave him a new outfit, this time blue Y-front briefs and blue T-shirt, a red and black check top shirt, black cords, white socks, and black trainers. Richard looked extremely fetching and Paul couldn't resist giving him a big hug and patting his bottom.
Any doubts Richard had about Paul were allayed by all this. He had never received affection like this from his father. It was strange to be treated as a little boy, but even the spankings were much less dreadful than anything he had received from his father. More than this, Richard was at the beginning of the powerful _s_e_x_ual feelings and excitements of young adolescence - and he was finding a lot of what he and Paul did a very large turn-on. And having Paul in charge like this took away any guilt he might have felt at his nakedness or his erections - it was all Paul's decisions, not his.
They had a good and ordinary day together, doing shopping, buying games for his playstation, playing ball in the park, all adding to Richard's affection and allegiance toward Paul - which, of course, Paul intended.
Then, at about seven in the evening, Paul announced that they were going to the house of a friend of his called Michael. "There will probably be some other men there," Paul said, "and Michael has a son, Steven, who is eleven years old - and considerably naughtier than you."
"Will I get to play with him, Sir?"
"In a manner of speaking, yes. Wait and see."
Michael's house was up in the hills, very remote and set on its own at the end of a long driveway. It was after eight by the time they arrived. Richard noticed some other cars and a pick-up parked outside. They went in and were greeted by Michael who took them through to a living-room, where there were three other men, two in middle age, one a little older. Paul and Richard were introduced and beers were served, even to Richard.
The conversation was strange, to Richard's mind, being entirely devoted to the politics of punishment. All the men, with varying degrees of vehemence, strongly advocated a return to traditional values, talking about the good sense of the paddle, the birch, the cane, the belt, the whip and good old-fashioned spanking. There was also quite a debate about the virtues of being clothed or unclothed for punishment. Richard noticed that the men were talking exclusively about the punishment of boys - and their punishments when they were boys:
"My family used to be called to the front parlour, then I was made to stand on a low table and strip off. Everything. In front of everyone. Then I had to sit astride the table and lean right forward - and pa used to belt my arse until I wept and begged him to stop..."
"I take my fourteen year old, Sam, up to his bedroom and strip him to his T-shirt and socks. Then I lecture him - and then I lay him over my knee and spank him...."
Eventually, conversation turned to Michael's son, Steven, and the trouble he was giving.
"We told you. We warned you. The boy needs correction..."
"I know that now," Michael said, "Well, that's why you're here isn't it? He's not going to take this easy...."
"Where is he?"
"In his room, watching a video..."
"Does he know why we're here?"
"He knows he's going to be punished, but not about all of you."
"Is he going to accept it?"
"He hasn't any real choice. He knows I've decided to have him taken away if he doesn't behave. He's said he'll accept anything. Even suggested a beating. But he'll still take it bad when he sees how he's going to be humiliated."
"Let's have him down. Where are we going to deal with him, Mike?"
"I thought we'd have him in here. I'll go get him."
Mike returned with a short-black-haired little eleven year old. He was just a bit short in stature for his age, but solidly made, with rounded cheeks, mischievous brown eyes, soft sun-tanned skin and a very beautifully protuberant and lusciously curved solid little arse. He wore a white open-neck shirt with a red T-shirt showing beneath, had denim jeans and white socks, and was not wearing shoes. He looked startled when he saw so many people - and made to turn round and go out again, but was firmly led by the collar to the centre of the room, with everyone gathered around.
"This is my very badly-behaved son, Steven," Mike said. "Steven, I told you that you would be punished and you agreed. These people are here to advise and help me - and to add to your punishment by embarrassing you. Now, you know you can choose to leave this house if you would prefer. What is it to be?"
"Dad, I said I'd be punished, but do they have to be here? Can't you punish me some other way?"
"No son. You accept or you go."
Steven hung his head and muttered, almost inaudibly, "OK Dad."
"Right gentlemen," Mike said. "Who has a suggestion about how we start?"
"I think he should shake us all by the hand, at the beginning and end. Like a man."
"Good idea. Go on, Steven." Steven went off on his round of handshakes and returned to his father.
"Now I think we should all get a feel of his arse, to work out what he needs by way of punishment on it."
"With his trousers on?" Mike asked.
"Yeah. At this stage. Get him to come to each of us, stand akimbo, and bend forward, arse sticking out backwards."
Steven clearly didn't fancy this at all and protested, but was quickly reminded of his stark choices. He began his promenade. Richard had never had the opportunity to touch another boy's arse and he made the most of it, probing around to feel where Steven's briefs were and paying special attention to the folds between Steven's buttocks. Richard was totally hard and noticed that some of the men were adjusting the fronts of their trousers.
Steven returned to his father, looking quite shaken and shocked. Michael put his arm round Steven's shoulders. Steven buried his head against Michael's chest. "I'm really sorry for what I've done dad. Do we have to go on with this?"
"I'm afraid we do, Son. Just keep doing what we tell you. It won't last forever. Gentlemen, what is your next proposal?"
"I'll take his shirt off now," one man said. "Here boy."
Michael nodded and Steven went over to the man, who unbuttoned Steven's shirt and pulled it out of his jeans. Then he had Steven turn round and pulled the shirt off his shoulders. "Take the shirt to your father, boy."
Steven, almost as if mesmerized by his powerlessness, took the shirt back to Michael.
"I'll have his jeans," another man said.
Steven looked beseechingly at his father. "Go on, Steven," Michael said, "you have no choice."
A picture of dumb misery, Steven went over to the man and stood before him. The man smilled maliciously, sat forward and unbuckled the boy's belt, before opening the top snap and unzipping the fly. He put a hand each side of Steven's hips and hauled his jeans to his ankles and then held them whilst Steven stepped out of them. Dressed only in yellow briefs, red T-shirt and white socks (the T-shirt was tucked into the briefs), the little boy took his jeans to his waiting father.
"Let's have him on the long settee on his stomach and inspect his arse again now we can see more," Paul said.
"Good idea, but let's have him kneeling with his head down and arse up."
"Good idea," Michael said, "Come Steven." He took Steven by the hand and positioned him on the settee. Each man took it in turn to have a good feel. Richard was given his go. Steven's position, the same as Richard's in the shower that morning, was very entertaining and _s_e_x_y, even with his pants on. Richard enjoyed his opportunity to stroke and squeeze the tight little arse-cheeks and even put his hand a little way down between Steven's legs almost to the back of his scrotum.
When they had all finished, Steven was led back to the centre. He now had a quite obvious little erection, which caused much pointing and amusement to the men - and rapidly subsided under their ridicule.
"Put him back on the settee on his back and let's strip him."
At this suggestion, Steven suddenly panicked and attempted to run for the door. He had no chance and was quickly gathered up. Shouting and wriggling to try to get free he was dragged to the settee, where rough hands clawed at his pants, T-shirt and even socks. He clamped his thighs together in an attempt to stop them from stripping him, but they simply ripped his briefs to shreds and he was quickly naked. Suddenly realizing it was hopeless, he went limp in their arms.
"Let's take it in turns to spank him."
"Except Richard," Paul said. "We have another job for him at the end. He can watch."
So Steven was led to each man, laid over knees and thighs and soundly spanked until his tight young arse was a very bright red and he was howling and begging for mercy with every spank.
When finally, they had finished, Paul handed Richard a jar of soothing cream and told him to go with Steven to his bedroom and look after him - and not to come down until he was fetched.
They went to Steven's room, Richard closed the door and told the now totally cowed eleven year old to lie on his stomach on top of a pillow. Then he gently started work on the blazing skin. At first, Steven winced a lot, but in time he relaxed and even let Richard's hands wander down between his arsecheeks and between his legs.
"It's making me all hard again," Steven said quietly.
"It's making me hard doing it."
"Is it?" Steven turned on one side to reveal his hard little _d_i_c_k_. "I don't suppose I could ... look at it."
Richard grinned. "I expect they'll be a while downstairs. Hold on.." He quickly slipped off his trainers and pulled his cords and underpants off. Then he lay on the bed, also on his side, facing Steven.
"It's nice," Steven said admiringly. "Can I touch it?"
Richard nodded shyly, pulling his shirt further up. Steven touched him and gently squeezed his hardness. "Do you want to feel mine?"
"OK," Richard said. And soon they were both feeling one another. "It's really good, Steven said, "Let's get our _c_o_c_k_s to say hello to each other." They wriggled closer and Richard put his arms round Steven as their _c_o_c_k_s came together. Steven responded by putting his arms round Richard and, to Richard's surprise, kissed him on the neck. Richard suddenly felt hugely affectionate and kissed him back. They lay in each other's arms - and gradually fell asleep...
The End of Powerless Boy