You always see things from the adult viewpoint. Here's mine.
I'm 13, live in a small town, and have parents who spank. Not often, but when they do, it's bare butt, with my pants around my knees.
But that's not the main thing at 13. The main thing at 13 is me, my body, my life, and especially my dick, which goes hard faster than it ever did and makes a sticky liquid more often than I always want.
When I was 10, life wasn't complicated like this. But now I have all kinds of feelings and fantasies and they're not what I expected. Like, I thought my feelings would be about girls, but they're either about boys (generally younger) or about men.
I suppose you want to know what I imagine about younger boys. This is seriously uncool. I imagine stripping down their trousers and underpants and spanking their little arses. There you are, I've said it.
And I guess you'd like to know what I imagine about men? Well, recent events explain how imagination can turn into action...
I've been working for Joe Hobson, who runs the local grocery store. He's a single guy, on his own. And, a week ago, though nobody but you, me and Hobson know this, he caught me stealing from his cash register.
"I'll have to tell your parents about this."
A bare butt spanking loomed. Boring. Been there, done that. And I didn't want the shame of them knowing that their maturing son was still a sneaky little thief.
"Please Mr Hobson, don't do that. Couldn't you punish me?" I tried to look seductive and vulnerable all in one.
"You want me to punish you? To make it a secret?"
"That's it, Sir. I won't tell them; you don't tell them."
"I have very traditional views."
"I'll take anything Mr Hobson."
"And say nothing to your parents?"
"Provided you don't say what I did."
"I see." He paused for thought. "Tomoorow's a public holiday. What are you doing?"
A cool, smooth breeze spread through the inside of my dick. "My parents are going to grandpa's. They won't be back until late."
"They won't mind you coming to help me collect and deliver stock?"
"No, Sir, they'll be pleased I'm being watched over."
"Report here at 9, boy."
***
I did not sleep well that night. My dick kept going hard, imagining what he might do to me. But I got there at nine.
He put me with him in the front of his truck and drove.
Eventually, we landed up at a truck stop. He took me in and bought me a drink, then left me while he talked to someone behind the bar.
Then he returned and led me through a door marked "No entry" to a room at the back of cafe. There was a pool table, an unused small bar, some bar stools and some bench seats and tables. It was empty and the plastic curtains were drawn. Mr Hobson turned on the lights.
"Well," Hobson said, "I guess it's your time of reckoning, Paul. Put yourself over this bar stool so your arse shines up into the sky and your legs and body dangle down.
I arranged myself as ordered, my heart thumping. Next thing is, I feel his hand on the seat of my white shorts, rubbing, stroking, squeezing.
"Nice butt, boy," he said, "and all mine. How do your parents punish you?"
"Bare butt."
"Naked?"
"No, just pants down to my knees."
His hands continued to rub my butt - and I felt my dick hardening beneath me. I was beginnning to imagine things, bad things.
"Come off the stool and sit on the bar top."
I did this and he positioned his bar stool between my legs.
"Open your legs wide."
I opened, feeling very exposed, aware my dick was pressing forward and upward.
He laughed. "The little boy has a hard-on," he said. "Point to your dickhead, little boy."
Feeling a mix of turned on and scared, I pointed.
He reached out and squeezed my dick head through my shorts. "So right," he said. His hands moved up my inner thighs and under my shorts legs until they actually met over the surface of my briefs at the base of my dick. "So sweet," he muttered. "Pull off your T-shirt, kid."
I pulled off my T-shirt, feeling turned on beyond belief to be bare-chested with this randy guy.
"Nice tits," he said, tweaking and squeezing them.
His hands went down to the belt on my shorts and unbuckled it. My guts were churning with terrified excitement. He undid my top snap and unzipped me, pulling my shorts apart. "White Y's!" he exclaimed with obvious pleasure. He reached down and pulled off my trainers. "Lift your arse," he said.
I lifted my arse, jacking myself up by my arms. He hauled my shorts off. I was sitting in the back of a truckstop in my white Y's and white ankle socks, with a raging hard-on, expecting some kind of punishment.
At this moment, events went away from my clever plan to uncontrollable and scarey.
A guy came into the back of the bar from from a back door into the bar, putting his large hands on my bare little shoulders. "So this is the kid," he said.
"Sure is," Hobson said.
"Hot property" he said, cupping my tits from behind and kissing my neck.
It got worse.
Two tall guys in leathers walked in.
"So this is him," one said. "Wow!"
"Lie him on the pool table," the other said.
They led me to the pool table and had me climb up and lie on it, on my back, stretched out. They moved bar stools around the table and spread my legs and arms. I knew I'd lost control now but I had no way out and I was still seriously hard, my dick jutting up in my Y's. Horny hands were feeling me all over.
"Someone got the manacles?" the barguy said.
One of the men in leathers put a broad studded black leather collar round my neck and leather wraps around each of my wrists and ankles. Then they turned me over onto my belly and connected my wristbands so my hands were held together just above the waistband of my Y-fronts.
My trainers were put back on and I was lifted off the table. A lead was attached to my collar and I was led out through the front, to the accompaniment of cheers and wolfwhistles from those who were there.
They led me, feeling very exposed in just my briefs, to a camping van. Some went in front. Some sat with me in the back. But no-one spoke. It was eerie. And my boner had quite disappeared.
We drew up in a pull-off, set in woods. There were trucks parked around. They led me out and up a steep path. Every so often, they stopped, waited, and had me look back down the track. A number of guys were following us and pretending not to.
In time, we reached a picnic area - a kind of scenic viewpoint, but too high and remote for most people to go to, even on a public holiday. It was deserted.
There were wooden picnic tables. They stood me up against the end of one, shackling my legs, some way apart, to its legs, then bent me forward onto it. A cord was looped through my wrist manacles, over and under the table, in such a way that I was tied down flat to the table, my arse outstretched, my arsecheeks spread wide.
Hobson sat at the table and stroked my back and shoulders. "We're cutting off your Y's now," he said.
And as he said it, I felt cold steel snipping away and the sudden removal of my small shred of dignity.
A belt - so I judged - descended on my arse cheeks and stung.
It kept descending, slowly, regularly, until my arse was igniting with pain and I was yelling out to them to stop. I was aware of several men standing around me with their dicks out, wanking, but I was mainly aware of the extreme pain in my butt.
Eventually, they stopped and I was untied and led by my collar to a block of toilets. They sat me in a handbaisin and turned on the cold tap, leaving me like this for a long time until my arse felt completely numb with cold.
I was given a tight pair of black leather briefs and led back down to the pull-off, where I was put back in the van and driven on to a small roadside shack.
They knocked the door and an old woman opened it. "This the boy?" she asked.
They nodded.
"I've got the room ready", she said. Money passed hands.
The men led me into a bedroom. There was just a bare bed with a white sheets and white pillows on, no headboard.
They laid me on my back and used the wrist and arm bands to secure me spread eagled. Then Hobson came forward and sat on the bed and started to massage my dick over my leather briefs until, inevitably, I was hard again. Hard partly because of what he was doing and partly because all the men were stripping naked and wanking big dicks.
They unshackled me, put my legs up over my shoulders and shackled me again like that, my legs spread and pulled wide over me, my arsehole completely exposed at the end of the bed.
Hobson greased his middle finger and started to massage my anus. I was moaning with embarrassment and weird pleasure. Then his finger was inside me and one of the guys was simultaneously sucking my dick. My arsehole was in turmoil, tightening with excitement as I was sucked and being pushed in and out by Hobson's finger-_f_u_c_k_. I felt like I was _s_h_i_t_ting, pissing and being wanked, all in one.
Then they produced a vibrator, lubed it, shoved it up inside me and started it up. As far as my shackles allowed I was writhing all over the place and yelling out - at which point, the first man came all over my face, some of his come landing squarely in my mouth.
At this point, they unshackled me and another of the men straddled my chest, while the others kept me doubled over and legs apart by hand. The vibrator was withdrawn and Hobson pressed his greased, thin, six inch _c_o_c_k_ up inside me without difficulty and started to _f_u_c_k_.
The man straddling me put his dick in my mouth and came. Hobson came into my arse. The remaining man came all over my dick just before his wanking of my dick made me come. It was seriously cool.
***