PART 2
While I stood by the door's post, watching what was to happen to Paolo and Niwat next, my eyes continued to explore Cal's home. It was extremely comfortable, with a surfeit of twentieth century mod cons that would intrigue an editor of 'Homes and Gardens'. This included the bedroom in which all of us were now awaiting Cal's next move. I thought that Cal's longstanding expatriate venture in Asia must have served him well. I turned to the boys on the bed again. The two young men, who had just been spanked, were lying on the huge four-poster bed, their backsides naked and exposed, but tightly clenched in fear, and their thighs spread wide to be ready for something.
Both Paolo and Niwat were very aware that I was observing them closely, and I was a stranger to them. They were extremely embarrassed and humiliated. It showed, conspicuously, on their faces and the frowns they wore. Their eyes had been stealing glances at me from the moment they had heard my following Cal into the bedroom.
"Please, Cal," they were weeping again. Niwat was pleading the louder of them. "We've learned our lesson. Really. You're in charge, sir, but at least, not in front of the stranger."
I wanted to retreat back into the living room for I knew when I was not welcome. And besides, my heart still ached with my own longing. But Cal ignored the pleading boys and caught my arm. "Stay," he told me.
Then he methodically reached for the oblong cases and jar of lubricant, which Paolo had brought in from the bathroom earlier and placed on the bureau. Cal opened them up and the long glass tubes, nestled in their soft, velvet hulls, glittered under the white lamps on the ceiling. He took out the first tube and went to Niwat.
"I know you have learned your lesson," Cal told his humbled boy patiently. "You're a good boy, Niwat, and I love you. But it's time to settle down."
Cal had Niwat's anus lubricated and then eased the thermometer into his rectum very slowly and carefully. Niwat groaned, but it was a groan of ambivalent feelings. Cal waited, his hand resting close to Niwat's anus. He was speaking to Niwat very tenderly, his other arm cradling Niwat's head, on his lap, to provide solicitude and reassurance. After a very long time, Niwat's muscles started to relax. Cal then left him alone, the tip of the thermometer sticking out of his anus.
Cal removed the second thermometer from its hull and turned next to Paolo. Paolo was placidly waiting. It was later that I discovered that Paolo had always been fearful of a personal invasion, but from Cal, it was something he had had to learn to accept.
"Paolo," Cal said, "you're my pride, always have been and always will be. You took your punishment very well, as usual. You will always have my love. But it's time to contemplate the error of your behavior this evening with your thermometer inside you, calming you. My boy, what you did is never to happen again."
Paolo told Cal that he loved him, too, in spite or because of the spanking. "I know it's because you care, Cal, and want me to be a better man," Paolo said, and then tried to still his trembling bottom to allow the instrument to be inserted up his rectum. Cal held the glass between his digits and rested his palm on Paolo's bottom. Tender words were also employed to pacify Paolo while Paolo wept on Cal's lap. Later, Cal folded his arms around Paolo's head, now and then stroking his facial cheek to convey that nothing would change his love and acceptance of him. Kissing him without fear but with genuine tenderness, Cal stayed close by till Paolo became quieter.
Both boys now lay on the bed very still, their thermometers still sticking in their rectum. Cal got up and, giving them a gentle stroke of their hair, he left them to turn his attention to me. It was clear that he had had to abort this important time with them for my sake.
"I usually like to hold them in my arms till they're completely calm, and falling asleep, and then I'd remove the thermometers," Cal explained as if to confirm my observation. "I wouldn't usually leave the tubes in them without my being there close to them. It's never to happen for security and psychological reasons. But all this takes up a better part of the night and I've left you alone for long enough. Anyway, I'm sorry I had to put you through this, and if you found it unpleasant, I'm also sorry for that. They're wonderful guys, but tonight they'd forgotten that it is every individual's onus to take responsibility for the decision he has made, albeit it's the wrong decision. I wanted to teach them this in your presence for you were one of the hosts tonight and their behavior had been a demonstration of irreverence for you."
I was following Cal but I was also weeping.
"What's the matter, little one?" Cal asked, alarmed.
Having lived in perpetual fear of rejection and separation, I wanted to tell Cal that I felt injured that he had left me out of the spanking. But it would have come across as nothing more than a boorish and absurd solicitation that was without rhyme and reason. I would have sounded like a prostitute. I suddenly felt suffocated to be with him and his boys, an outsider who had no business being there.
And so I turned and fled from Cal and blindly tried to reach for the front door. Cal reached it before I could.
"What's the matter, Han?" Cal asked again, his hand gripping my forearm so tightly and urgently that I hurt, yet felt cared for. "Now I insist you tell me or do you want a spanking as well?"
"Yes!" I howled. "Yes, Cal, spank me as well! Me! Why not? Why not me as well?"
And then I wanted to die from shame but I had confessed, and there was no turning back. "Yes, I long for you to spank me. I have, ever since Father started reading your letters to me," I continued, weeping stupidly.
Then I threw myself on his shoulders, quite shamelessly, and apologized for my behavior.
Cal comforted me, pulling me onto the settee with him, hugging me and hushing me very tenderly and softly. At length, I became quiet. However, for all my courageous confession, I didn't get my spanking. Cal said there was no reason to spank me. He didn't like spanking for no reason and I wasn't his boy. He was taking his time with me, although time was obviously not really at his disposal considering he had two boys in the bedroom to whom he wanted to return to continue his ministration. It was kind of him to show he was concerned for me. I accepted his explanation only for want of choice. But he was holding me in too tender a way to decimate my desire for a spanking in his hands. I liked the way he held me.
When he was sure I'd be quite all right, Cal put me in a taxi and sent me back to my home near the college. But as usual, emptiness and loneliness were all that greeted me on the threshold. I threw myself on my bed and started to weep again. I was sorrowful, embarrassed and ashamed. And my bottom had become numb from months of neglect.
I wished then that I had never set my eyes on Cal again. Why did he come back into my life, to open up all the old longing, only to leave me empty-handed? My Pandora's Box was turning out to be unleashing a very different kind of evil from what had appeared in my dreams and fantasies. It was the evil of covetousness and resentment. I had been courted by Cal's return to seduce him for a spanking. But I had failed for Cal was too pure of heart. And now all I was filled with were envy of Paolo and resentment towards Cal. I wasn't proud of the way I was feeling and knew I had lost control once more. Yet in spite of it all, I still wanted Cal to be here, right now, to take care of me. I fell into a fretful sleep, crying into my pillows.
It was Cal's call on the phone that awoken me the following day. It was already late morning. I had least expected to hear from him, and he was certainly the last person I wanted to hear from after my rejection last night. Cal must have treated my shameful confession as the statement of a pitiful gamin starving for adult attention, nothing more. I could never live down the humiliation and frustration, and it was better if this chapter of my life was closed immediately. Was Cal now calling to gloat about my admission?
I couldn't have been more wrong. Cal was still genuinely concerned. I didn't know, however, that he had been kept awake all night by my revelation and not even two gorgeous men, sleeping with their hot and spanked bottoms, one on each of his arms, could give him the incentive for a gloriously peaceful slumber.
"Hi," Cal said cheerfully for my benefit, "how are you feeling this morning?"
"So-so, sir," I replied.
"Call me 'Cal'," he reminded me. "I was wondering, would you like to come with Paolo and me to 'Fun City' for a day?"
I pondered over his invitation and worried about what emotional agitation seeing my friends again might put me through. But I loved Cal, though it was not a tangible kind of love that I could understand or easily define, and I wanted to see him. Maybe this time I could try to control my desires. I wanted the chance to start with a clean slate with Cal and show him that last night was a mental aberration.
"Okay, Cal, I guess," I answered, and remembering that he had not mentioned Niwat, I asked: "What about Niwat?"
"He's gone shopping for things for his family with a friend," Cal said. "He's planned to sleep over. Now shall I come for you or wait here for you?"
I told Cal that I should appreciate his coming to get me since my defacto, Ky, was on a study fellowship and attending a convention at another state, so I was without a car or anyone from whom to ask a ride. It was Saturday, which meant no classes, and friends would be hard to find since they usually took off for the weekend. Cal said this was no problem, he would come for me in a chauffeur-driven limo at noon, and I should dress casual and be punctual.
'Fun City' began with a late lunch. Cal took us all to a Chinese restaurant, his choice, for a spicy Szechuan meal. Neither Cal nor Paolo was challenged by having to use the chopsticks. I was impressed. Afterward, we saw a movie. The movie, my choice, was a film noir, in a foreign language, and so our minds had to do double duty to keep up with the subtitles while at the same time absorb the directional and production quality. The set pieces were particularly disturbing. I was sure the minimal pieces were intended to connote something parallel about the dearth of characters and plot, besides keeping the budget down. Cal and Paolo were unimpressed but sat through the film in deference to me.
Later, Cal and I discussed the film at a stylish club, a unanimous choice, while Paolo entertained himself on the dance floor. I wasn't a regular club-hopper, so I felt a little shy and uneasy. I was glad there was a man like Cal to protect me, though I wasn't certain why I felt safe around him. It was something in my gut, like I just knew it of Cal.
Now, Paolo was a very attractive young man. There were a few men who were dancing in a circle with Paolo. They were exchanging niceties and laughing. Some were touching Paolo's face though Paolo seemed embarrassed and unreceptive. He kept parrying their advances. I wondered if he and Cal might not be the first-time visitors here that I was.
"Are you both regulars here?" I asked Cal.
"No, no way," he answered, "not even when I used to live in the city. It's our first time, too. Besides, I'm not into the club scene, and neither is Paolo. Neither Paolo nor I drink, but it's not because we have anything against it. Paolo is vacationing from that program in Brazil and had been told that I would be in the city about this time. He wanted to see his 'family' here before he returned to Brazil to resume school. No question, Paolo and even Niwat are family to me. Paolo's leaving next week. He's studying business at that special school in Sao Paulo and doing very well."
The loud music was picking up the pace, and Paolo was keeping time with the tempo. Paolo was simply appealing and beautiful with his hip-length hair provocatively intruding upon his face and Adam's apple every time he stomped his feet and nodded his head to the music. A visual gem, he was a very sensual person and _s_e_x_ual dancer. He had huge, expressive, smoldering dark eyes and deep brows that were always smiling, and as he smiled he showed off those perfectly-set ivory teeth. These, together with his seductive Latin manner, were a ravishing combination. You had an erection just watching his movements. I found my peripatetic eyes suddenly tearing away his clothes. Ashamed, I looked away and focused on Cal's Double Espresso.
"Does it bother you that the men are touching Paolo in that way?" I asked Cal vaguely. Indeed, some guy was now taking advantage of Paolo's unguarded moments to pat his bottom. Paolo's form-fitting Levis did everything possible to accentuate a bulging anterior and a curvaceous posterior, among other endowments. He had these, he knew how to show them, and he was tall and proud of whom he was. This was exuded in the aura of self-confidence and radiance that he was projecting everywhere.
"Yes, and no," Cal had said, equally vaguely, in answer to my question. "I trust Paolo. Paolo knows to whom to be loyal. Besides, it's a credit to him and a real boost to his own self-confidence that men and women find him attractive. I have no problem with that as long as Paolo come to no harm. But he can take care of himself. There, see, he's just given that guy a shove. "
A man approached Cal, wrestled him aside and they had private exchanges. But Cal shook his head. I asked him out of curiosity what that was all about.
"It's someone I met briefly in Heidelberg," he answered indifferently. "He was a real pain in the neck back then. He's just such a moron. I can't believe he's here. It's just our karma!"
I was puzzled for Cal was being vague again. He seemed not to be in a didactic mood but still I prodded him to specify.
"He's just a guy that likes to spank boys, and groupie stuff," he said. "I don't know him well at all, and that's fine with me, but he had his eye on Paolo even in Heidelberg. Now he and his friends over there have been looking at you too, in case you haven't noticed, and they probably want to lay their hands all over you as well. I may be wrong but a number of them belong to some de jure global BDSM network."
Suddenly Cal got up. "Excuse me for a bit," he told me. "Will you be all right?"
I nodded but nervously watched Cal leave my side and became very self-conscious. I hid my face behind my own long hair. Cal had managed to reach Paolo and was whispering something into his ear. And then he disappeared among the throng.
The minutes passed. Mere minutes could seem like hours when you're alone. In the meantime, seeing that I was indeed alone and Cal had been gone a long time, that man, the one Cal said he'd met in Germany, started to chat me up. He was inebriated. Apprising that his name was Helmut, he propositioned me. My face blushed. I politely declined him but he became all the more adamant and persistent. I told him then that I was with someone.
"Oh, I know you were with someone," he said, "Cal, wasn't it? Well, Cal isn't here anymore, baby doll, so you might as well have a bit of fun."
This time Helmut did not pay me the courtesy of declining him again, for he had turned around. He gave a wink but to whom I could not see. Suddenly, some brouhaha was erupting from the direction of the dance floor. The music had stopped. The dancers had drawn back into the wings and an arena had been cleared where Paolo and his partners had been dancing. Everyone was watching very keenly while some extremely drunken men divorced Paolo from his partners and accosted him by his ankles and arms. They put him facedown on the lap of a bulky man seated on a bar stool. While they were doing this, laughing and carrying on like wild men, they were also stripping Paolo of his jeans and jock strap, peeling them down to his ankles. Paolo fought them off frantically and valiantly but was clearly outnumbered.
As if to have taken this as a cue to hand me a similar fate, four men assailed me and led me to Paolo's party. Then I, too, was placed facedown on Helmut's lap. I felt my own jeans and brief removed to my ankles. I was bare-bottomed and fighting for my dignity.
Paolo and I were about to be spanked bare-bottomed. Wait just a minute, I wanted to cry out indignantly.
"Stop! No!" I heard Paolo yell, followed by a stream of what sounded like Spanish or Portuguese; it was loud and didn't sound kind, and I followed suit. But the noise was drowning out our pleas. Helmut had his hands all over me, exploring my bare bottom and genitals. His friends, who were holding me down, were replicating Helmut's act like a mindless herd.
WHAP! The first blow delivered to my nude bottom brought tears to my eyes instantly. I saw amorphous spiders scurrying around the shoes of my assailant.
"No!" I protested as another swat landed on my bottom violently. Those amorphous spiders were now multiplying and seemed to take on a hologrammic appearance. I had to get my eyes checked, I told myself.
WHAP! I heard still another blow but felt nothing. This time I heard Paolo yell instead. I could just see one of the men about to take Paolo's fecund seven-inch into his mouth. Paolo struggled wildly against this defilement of his dignity. He was also continuing to hurl obscenities in his vernacular.
A calypso of rambunctious laughter and whistles ranged round me for a long time. I felt hands again on my bottom. Helmut was very big and he was showing me no tenderness, unlike the tenderness I had seen last at Cal's place. This man was just beating my bottom in a way to hurt me and excite himself in the most humiliating and inhumane way possible. It was like being raped by the hords in cave men suits carrying huge clubs and hunks of raw meat. And I was really hurting.
Every time I caught a glance at Paolo, he seemed not to know the meaning of 'give it.' He was like a wildcat over his assailant's lap. There must have been five or six huge men holding him, or trying to hold him, still, but they were not succeeding. The man, over whose lap he was being held against his wishes, was spanking the hell out of him. It was wild, unadulterably wild.
"What in the hell do you think you're doing?" someone's voice suddenly thundered far above all the fracas. "Touch him one more time and you'll wish you never heard of Fun City!"
Silence engulfed the vicious den of lions. I turned my head up and saw that it was Cal. From the way Cal looked in his eyes, I knew he was going to flatten the caroused bastards that were vitiating Paolo's and my humanity unless they immediately let us up. For their own sake, they did, amazingly quickly, but before they had time to think of possible terms for a rapprochement between themselves and Cal, Cal had gone and flattened the man who had been spanking Paolo, just the same. With Paolo's aid, Cal rendered his assailant to the opposite side of the floor. The others stepped back. I was really surprised and had no idea Cal was capable of physical reprisal. Pulling up his jeans rather clumsily, Paolo found the man who had dared to touch his prized commodity in that very degrading manner, and kicked him in his groin. Paolo was still swearing a blue streak in some language I was glad I could not understand. At the same time, Cal had gone to Helmut and deconstructed his jaw.
"Nobody touches either of these boys. Period!" Cal hissed, grabbing Paolo and me in each of his hands. He let us dress fully, though we knew clearly, what with Cal's anger, that we had better stuff ourselves in and together in record time. Cal then stormed us out of the bear pit.
I had never seen Cal this mad. I had not known or heard Cal to be a violent man. I was sure he wasn't. Paolo had turned white and was looking at his lap the whole time we were traveling back in the limo. When Cal had us all brought back safely to his luxury town house, and immediately stripped Paolo and me naked, I was reduced to tears. His face was molten lava. He sent Paolo to bed, for it was too late for anything else already, and I sensed that he felt too angry and wanted some time to himself, too.
I had even watched him pour himself a glass of white wine while he tried to calm himself. But he had said absolutely nothing. The silence and tension were so thick that time that you could slice the air with a knife. It was obvious he was absolutely furious.
Afterward Cal dressed me in his pajama pants and shirt and put me to bed with him in the adjoining bedroom. I was crying all the time in his armpit. Of course, by this time Cal had regained his sweet temperament and tried very hard to calm me down, calling me his baby boy, but I was too overwrought with feelings of guilt to be so easily cajoled. I had made Cal mad at me.