Steve and Bobby drove to the front gate, and Steve punched in the code. Nothing happened. The gates didn't open.
"This thing isn't working, Bobby. What do you think is wrong?"
"Dad and Anna have to be home. Maybe it's broken. And I don't have the _d_a_m_n_ key for manual operation, but it doesn't work very well anyway. I'm locked out of my own frigging house. Ring the intercom; someone has to answer. If we don't get anyone, we'll try the service entrance."
Anna was watching the gate from behind a bush so the boys couldn't see her. She gave a signal to me that they were here, and I relayed it to Susan who answered the intercom.
"THIS IS THE HOUSE OF TORTURE AND PUNISHMENT! YOU WILL DRIVE INSIDE. STOP YOUR CAR JUST AS THE GATES CLOSE. STRIP NAKED AND WALK TO THE FRONT GATE WITH YOUR HANDS ON TOP OF YOUR HEADS. DO AS YOU ARE TOLD OR YOUR PAIN WILL BE WORSE."
The boys looked at each other stunned but excited.
"That's Susan talking, Bobby."
"Shut up! Let's do it as we're told."
It was happening NOW. And they didn't have to initiate anything, just do as they were told. They both stripped and had immediate erections. They walked slowly to the front entrance. There is total privacy on the estate grounds. The house can barely be seen from the main gates. The front door was open, but they didn't see anyone.
Anna was watching them from the bush and taking pictures. She had a difficult time containing herself from laughing. The boys had a sort of nervous look on their faces.
The boys entered the foyer and looked around but didn't see anyone. They just stood there naked with ramrod _c_o_c_k_s and hands over their heads not knowing what to do. A voice came from behind them.
"Stand perfectly still and raise your arms high above your heads."
Blindfolds were placed on them, and their mouths were gagged. Susan took her thumb and index finger and immediately turned their erect _c_o_c_k_s to wet noodles. Each boy jerked and tried to utter a sound of pain. I doubt they liked that one bit. But Susan had to do it. She put a thin chain low around their waists. The kind of chain used for small dog leashes. A leopard patterned cloth was placed over the chain as a loin cloth and brought under their legs and tucked into the backside of the chain. She made the cloth tight to hold their balls and pricks. The cloth and chain on their rears came to the cracks in their butts. The front side was very tight and very low. Neither boy had much in the way of pubic hair. I often thought they must shave themselves. Neither boy probably liked having their _c_o_c_k_s so tightly wrapped, but Susan felt it had to be done for the first part of the scene.
Susan placed leather cuffs on their wrists and secured their arms behind their backs. Leather cuffs were attached to each boys' ankles. Their nipples were pinched and twisted. She put nipple clamps on them. The clamps were tightened enough to hold them in place but not too tight to cause discomfort. They would be wearing them for awhile. Dog collars were secured around their necks.
I could only imagine what must be going on in their minds. They wouldn't be frightened, but they would be anxious and excited not knowing what would be coming next.
I held each boys' arms so they wouldn't fall. Susan gave them four smacks each across their butts with the leather strap. The boy's reacted to the stinging sensation of each lash in such a way that they would have lost their balance by being blindfolded and cuffed had I not been holding their arms.
Anna was taking pictures as well as making a video tape. I was holding them, and Susan was whipping them. By now they must know a third person was involved with the scene. They most likely would suspect Anna. She has seen both boys naked many times around the pool, and they and she were never bothered by that. I would later learn that they were delighted that she took part, because it made the scene seem more like a "public" whipping.
I held an arm of each boy — one on my right and one on my left — and guided them blindfolded through the house to the backyard. Meanwhile, Susan was whipping their backs and butts with a light whip. Anna kept taking pictures. Once outside I thought about making them turn around several times to lose their orientation. But they obviously know the grounds too well not to figure out rather quickly where they would be standing.
It took us several minutes to walk from the main foyer to the rear of the tennis court and storage area. By that time their backs and butts were showing some red coloring from Susan's constant whipping. We got to the mud pit, and I freed one hand from each boy but kept their other hand attached to the chain around their waists. Still blindfolded, I had each boy step into the mud pit. They seemed a little startled as their feet sank into the soupy stuff. Susan and I took off their blindfolds.
"Lie down in the mud, you rotten slave boys. Now, wrestle in the mud. I'm going to whip your asses with this strap as you wrestle."
In a few seconds they were a muddy mess from the tops of their heads to the bottoms of their feet. Each boy seemed to try to hold the other in such a way that the kid's butt stuck out for a good smack from Susan's strap. They fell. They struggled. They grabbed each other in every place imaginable. They took the wrestling seriously, trying to dominate the other. Anna kept the cameras going. Susan was having a good time smacking their butts and sometimes their backs with the strap. I watched with great amusement and only wished that I could join them. It seemed like a hell of a lot of fun. We're going to keep this mud pit around for a long time. I was sure the boys have found a new way to excite themselves and play.
This part of the scene lasted a good 25 minutes or so before Susan called a halt.
"You bad slave boys stand up and face me."
They tried to get up but kept falling back down in the mud. In a few moments they finally succeeded in standing up. They tried to clear their eyes enough to see what was going on or coming next. I helped them out of the mud pit. Once out, Susan blasted them from head to toe with water from a hose. It took a couple minutes to get them clean. The boys rubbed their eyes and could finally see what was around them. It was like WOW! They saw Susan in her string bikini and knee high boots and viciously holding her whip with other straps and whips attached to a chain around her waist. Anna was even wearing a bikini, and she looked good. Me, well, they've seen me a thousand times in a thong.
Bobby was rubbing his ass as best he could with one hand. Steve did the same. They had a little more redness, and their butts were probably stinging a bit. They were still gagged and couldn't make much sounds.
"Each of you is going to be punished by crawling the gauntlet. Turn to the sand pit. You, slave boy, lay down in the sand pit," Susan said as she pushed her brother in the back.
I attached Steve's handcuffs together in front of him and attached is ankles together. He was laying face down in the sand. The boy tried to prop himself up with his elbows and look to see what he was supposed to do. But he kept sinking into the soft sand. It would be difficult at best for the boy to crawl, with hands and feet cuffed, to the other end of the pit through this soft sand.
Susan gave Bobby a light whip. I had one. Susan obviously had one. Even Anna had one. Steve could see that as all of us stood over him. The boy was wide eyed knowing somewhat but not too sure exactly what was coming next. He turned and looked down the sand pit. It was only 30 feet long, but from his perspective it probably seemed a lot farther.
"Start crawling, slave boy," Susan whipped Steven's back.
The temperature was in the low 90's that day and the afternoon sun was beating down on all of us, especially Steven who was laying in the sand pit. His body was glistening with sweat as he tried to crawl the distance of the pit. He could only go at barely a snail's pace as hard as he tried. The sand was too soft. He had little leverage over his body because of that and his cuffed hands and ankles.
Susan knew this and planned it just this way. Crawling the gauntlet would be very difficult for each boy. And that meant that each would receive lots and lots of whiplashes. The boy could not cry out, because he was gagged. He had no choice but to endure this punishment or appear a coward and quitter in front of the rest of us. I was also sure that the boy wanted to experience this part of the scene not only for its endurance but more for its _s_e_x_ual stimulation.
The four of us kept whipping Steve constantly. His back and ass were reddened from the whippings he had received throughout all of the different scenes. I doubted that the sun was playing a part in burning him. The boy had a very deep and dark tan.
It took him 15 minutes to reach the end of the 30 foot pit. He probably thought that was it, and he would now get his chance to whip and torment Bobby the way that bastard had treated him through this ordeal. No chance.
"Slave boy, turn your rotten and beaten body around and start back in the other direction. Now!" Susan gave Steve a hard lash across his back.
The kid gave a sort of pleading look to his tormentors. But they were all poised with their whips ready to lash him. Anna was taking pictures. We allowed the boy to struggle at turning himself around to face the opposite direction. His body was wet with sweat. His face, chest and legs were covered in sand. This would be an ordeal he would long remember.
The first run gave him some experience in crawling through this soft sand. He used a slightly better technique of moving his arms and legs to get his body to the other end a little faster. He cut his time down to slightly more than 10 minutes. But the whiplashes on his body from the rest of us were no less than the first time.
This had to be it, Steve thought. The boy was extremely thirsty from the heat, the mud pit and the sand pit. Surely his tormentors would have mercy on him enough to give him some cold water. Susan knew this would be the time to replenish her slave boys. They had a lot more coming. She didn't want dehydrated kids on her hands.
I helped Steve out of the pit and untied his wrists and ankles and removed his gag. Susan sprayed him with a hose head to toe to rid him of the sand and sweat. Anna gave him cold water to drink, which he gulped down and begged for more. There was never a sound out of him about his ordeal. He was playing the perfect slave boy, obedient, submissive and ready to take any punishment his Mistress and Master designed for him.
Susan handed Steve the whip Bobby was using. The boy had an eagerness about him to begin flaying away at his brother slave. Bobby had an equal eagerness to start his turn in the sand pit. But he eyed that cold glass of water Steve was given. The boy was un-gagged long enough to down three glasses of water. He made no sounds and awaited the gag to be put back on, his ankles secured and his wrists secured. I helped into the pit.
The poor kid sank into the sand as though it were quicksand. He knew what the game was. He stretched himself out and tried to duplicate Steve's technique on his second lap in the pit. The boy looked at his tormentors: Susan and I on one side, Steve and Anna on the other side. He seemed to want to say, "Let's get started gang."
"Go, you rotten slave boy! Get your ass to the other end," Susan yelled.
Bobby started crawling and the lashes began falling over his body from shoulders to thighs. He seemed to have a little more difficulty crawling than Steve who is a bit heavier and stronger. It took him 18 minutes to make the first lap compared to Steve's 15.
The boy moved himself around for the second lap more quickly than Steve, and he did it by adding some sensuality to his movements that were very _s_e_x_y. He was obviously enjoying this game. We all realized this from his actions and decided to go harder on him with the whippings. This time it took him 15 minutes to make the other end of the pit.
To our total surprise, Bobby turned himself around, with the same _s_e_x_ual movements, for another lap. Although it was a very hot day and the sun was beating down on his practically naked body, the boy was a pinkish red from shoulders to thighs. This was no sunburn. The kid has too dark a tan, and I've never known him to burn. Lord only knows how many lashes he has received since the beginning of the scene at the front door this afternoon. It must be a couple hundred by now. Although these are light whips that don't do damage to the body, they still sting. And after receiving as many lashes this kid has had, the boy's back and ass must be feeling some discomfort. But he's asking for more. The third lap lasted 17 minutes. Maybe he's getting tired.
Jesus, the kid turns around again for a fourth lap. It must be physically difficult to crawl through that fine sand with wrists and ankles tied and being whipped too. Bobby is really punishing himself. Susan shook her head at me and shrugged her shoulders. I gave her a body movement that said it's his choice. Anna was smiling. Steve couldn't care less. He'd whip his buddy 'till midnight, if that's what the kid wanted. As far as Steve was concerned, Bobby deserved this whip lashing and then some.
Bobby was obviously wearing down from the difficult crawling. His fourth lap took nearly 20 minutes, and no one showed him any mercy with their whip. When he reached the end of the pit, he laid there panting and seeming very tired. I helped him out of the pit.
We stood back as Susan washed him down head to toe. He looked grateful for that cool relief.
Susan removed Bobby's gag. Anna gave him water. I untied Bobby's ankles. Both boys were still handcuffed. They could talk now and end the scene, but Susan knew that would not be their wish. She released their loin cloths. Their freed balls and dicks gave each boy a relief that showed on their faces. As expected, their _c_o_c_k_s sprang to life and were ramrod ready for action. Neither boy said a word. They wanted more action, and more important, they wanted to climax. I imagined that their pent up _s_e_x_ual energy was about ready to burst their sore loins. For these teenagers to undergo such _s_e_x_ual stimulation and not have a release must be extremely frustrating to say the least.
I would have stopped the scene at this point, if I were these boys, and get my _s_e_x_ual release. Susan was intent on stimulating them more, and they seemed eager for that stimulation. Now that their _c_o_c_k_s were free, if something came let it cum.
Susan twisted and pinched their nipples and put clamps on each boy.
"Slave boys, walk to the whipping tree," Susan ordered.
The boys began the walk from the storage area behind the tennis court to the pool area and the tree that everyone now calls the "Whipping Tree." Since I first used that tree to whip the boys more than a year ago, it has been used dozens of times to whip the naked bodies of these boys. Bobby has probably been hung from that tree at least three dozen times, far more than Steve. Bobby is more a bottom than Steve, even though they switch roles. And, of course, I've been the Top many times to whip Bobby when Steve wasn't available. I can't use it as a means to discipline Bobby. He likes it too much. If I did that, he would deliberately get into trouble just to be whipped. He's such a good boy that he rarely needs discipline. Usually just knowing that he has disappointed me or violated a trust embarrasses him so much that he punishes himself. He'll ground himself from something he likes and do things he believes will regain my trust in him. That always works with me.
The boys arrived at the tree and each took his spot under a limb that had ropes that their wrists could be attached to and pull them up high enough to stretch their bodies but leave their feet on the ground.
Steve was stretched so much that one of his tit clamps fell off and dangled on the small chain attached to the other clamp. Susan simply yanked the remaining clamp from his chest. The boy flinched from that slight pain.
She then went to Bobby and slowly but firmly yanked the clamps from his nipples. He twisted his face and body in pain. His reaction seemed a bit exaggerated, but the boy was deep into the fantasy that he was being tortured and punished. Both boys _c_o_c_k_s' were as hard 2x4's.
Bobby began moving his body, sticking out his ass, looking up to his wrists and swinging himself from side to side and front to back in a very _s_e_x_ual way.
"You _f_u_c_k_ing slut of a Mistress, you think you're going to break me? Go put a stick up your ass or that thing you call a cunt!" Bobby yelled at Susan.
These were fighting words to Susan, and Bobby was declaring WAR!
Anna and I could hardly contain ourselves from laughing. We kept on taping the scene and snapping pictures. This was too good to be true. Steve had a look of surprise and not knowing what to say to his sister. For sure, he wasn't going to use those words to his next of kin. That might cause him big trouble in his relationship with Susan, and it would embarrass him big time.
Susan had just the right items to torture Bobby. She was sure he never experienced something like this. The Mistress put a special clamp on Bobby's penis that had a chain and steel ball dangling from it.
Bobby's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets seeing what was happening to him. Susan swung the ball and Bobby "yelped." She then put a belt around his waist to hold in place the _d_i_l_d_o_ she thrust up his ass. A ball gag was put in his mouth, so there would be no more protests. She then put the tit clamps back on Bobby. Steve couldn't believe what he was seeing. He seemed to want it and not want it at the same time. But he didn't want Susan to do it to him. Anna took that honor.
Both of our little slave boys were experiencing all kinds of sensations throughout their young bodies.
The Mistress then went through the motions of whipping each of her slaves. Some of the lashes were hard, some were light. She gave a lot of each.
In about five minutes her young slaves could not take anymore of this stimulation. They creamed their legs and the ground like hoses watering a lawn. They seemed to have a lot in themselves to get out. Their chests sunk and heads bent down in defeat, satisfaction and pleasurable relief.
Susan was happy conquering her young slaves. Her slaves were happy to be conquered. But they also seemed very ready to be released from their restraints. Susan had given each boy a T-shirt with the saying: "Whip me, beat me, _f_u_c_k_ me, suck me then get the _f_u_c_k_ off me." It was time to bring them back to normal boyhood.
She did that with remarkable ease, swiftness and compassion, because they were still in their world of ecstasy.
Anna said she would clean up everything and put things away. The boys just wanted to relax and relive the experience. They couldn't thank Susan enough for the experience and the trouble she want through.
Their backs, butts, thighs, chests were still red from the whippings, warm and stinging. They loved it. They put on their thong bikinis and relaxed around the pool and wanting something to eat and drink. I started the barbecue.
The evening lasted long with songs, jokes and, as night fell, sitting around the fire pit planning our other adventures, parties and summer vacations.
The next day was Bobby's "graduation" day from Big Red's driving school. The two adversaries had reached a compromise: Bobby would ware decent clothes, and Big Red wouldn't whip him for being indecent and obnoxious. Bobby didn't want a "total" compromise on this last visit. He wanted to incur Big Red's wrath one last time but still leave as friends.
Big Red hated Bobby's cutoff tattered short shorts. Bobby decided to ware a pair that were a little shorter than usual with slits on the sides. Any effort on his part to bend slightly would reveal a peek at his butt. He really looked _s_e_x_y in them. Big Red didn't think boys and "real" men should be "_s_e_x_y" in the way they look and dress. Bobby didn't ware the cutoff tank top that revealed most of his abdomen. That would really piss off Big Red. Instead, he wore an oversize white T-shirt that covered his shorts, but he rolled up one side of the shirt and tied it so it hung around his waist. Some girls ware their T-shirts like that. It's _s_e_x_y. Big Red wouldn't like that on a "real" boy.
Bobby did his best, which was easy for him to do, to look like the innocent 14-year-old instead of a 16-year-old ready to command a car. That was another thing that pissed Big Red off: immature teenage drivers.
Bobby wanted a spanking from Big Red but not a hard one. The weekend was approaching for his birthday party and birthday spanking. He didn't want a sore, red butt that would interfere with his party. He just wanted a going away spanking from his now friend and teacher Big Red.
Steve was always amazed at how Bobby could come up with plans to innocently get people to do what he wanted without harming the relationship between the two.
Steve drove Bobby to the school. He, too, was dressed similar to Bobby. Deep in his thoughts, Steve really wanted a going away spanking. Bobby can't have all the fun.
They walked into Big Red's office and waited in the lobby. Big Martha was there sitting behind her desk. She gave only a weak greeting to the boys, having eyed them from head to toe in the way they were dressed. Bobby always thought that Big Red was the real pussycat. But Martha, with those steely green eyes, was the one who could cut you to pieces in an instant, especially if you were a kid.
Big Red was in his office and on the phone as usual. Steve sat. Bobby walked back and forth as _s_e_x_y as he could and acting like the little kid he so liked to play.
Big Red walked into the lobby and stopped as soon as he saw his student. The huge man folded his arms around his chest above his protruding belly. He looked scornfully at his student. Bobby looked back innocently, child-like.
"Hi, Red. I'm ready for my graduation lesson."
"Why in the hell can't you dress decently and act like you're ready to be a man driving a car?"
"Sorry, Red, we were playing around this morning and didn't....."
"Sorry is no excuse, Bobby. Would you go to school dressed like that? Would you go to a job in that outfit?"
"No, sir."
"What would your dad think or do if you went out like that to school?"
"He wouldn't be happy. I'd probably be punished."
Bobby walked closer to Big Red. The boy put his index finger in his mouth, and without moving his head, his eyes looked up pleadingly to the big man. He was now acting like a 10-year-old who has been caught stealing change from someone's piggy bank. But no 10-year-old could put on that _s_e_x_y look with all the sensuality of an adolescent with more hormones than he deserves.
Steely-eyed Big Martha was glaring at Bobby. He wouldn't look at Martha for fear he would lose his nerve. That big mother could flatten Bobby in an instant. He knew it, and she knew it. Bobby put out his hand to Red.
"Friends, Big Red?"
"I want so much to spank you, punish you somehow. I'm so disappointed in you."
"Please don't be disappointed in me. I'm basically a good kid. Maybe I'm sometimes a goof ball. I have been a good student driver. I've had a lot of spankings in my life. Getting one more from you won't be the last one. Go ahead and do it."
Big Red sat down in a chair and pulled Bobby over his lap. Half the boy's butt was exposed from those cutoffs. Big Red took his right hand on Bobby's waist to hold the boy in place. Bobby's arms just dangled over Red's legs, but he turned his head to look eye to eye with Big Martha. That big mother folded her arms over her big breasts and had a look on her face that Bobby thought said, "Kill the kid."
Big Red's huge left hand whacked Bobby's ass very hard a dozen times. Bobby fidgeted, cried out and wiggled all over Red's lap. He got spanked a lot harder than he wanted. His butt was red hot and stinging badly.
Bobby can easily get these situations started, but he can't seem to control the outcome to go his way.
Red started to help Bobby off his lap, but the boy lost his balance and rolled off onto the floor. Big Red stood up and looked down at Bobby sprawled on the floor. Bobby took the best advantage of the situation he could think of.
"I deserved the spanking, Red. But Steve deserves one to. He suggested we dress like that."
Steve turned seventeen shades of red. He wanted Red's big hand slapping his ass, but he didn't know Bobby would be encouraging Red to do it.
Red turned to Steve who was looking at the floor as though there would be a hole somewhere he could crawl into.
Big Red grabbed Steve's arm and pulled the boy over to the chair where he spanked Bobby. Steve took the same position but couldn't look at Big Martha.
Steve took his punishment the same way Bobby did by wiggling, crying and fidgeting all over Red's lap. When finished, Steve jumped off Red's lap and rubbed his red hot ass, which was as red as his face.
"Boys, now that you've had your morning spanking, let's go out and drive a car like men and not like little kids."