I always look forwards to Halloween. That's when the best gay parties happen (except for Mardis Gras, of course!). I always get together with my friends and hit a couple of the best ones. There's usually a big street party a few blocks away from where I live, just off campus, and we usually go to that first, even though it isn't strictly a gay thing. It's always pretty cool, with local bands playing for free and lots of people. A couple of years ago, though, I wound up at one of the wildest (and most exciting!) party I had ever been to ... well, that's what this story is about.
I was a sophomore then, just a naive (yeah, right!) kid of 19. I shared an apartment with my buddy, Kyle, who is also gay, even though we're not lovers or anything, just friends. I had just come out the year before (thanks, in part at least, to Kyle) and I was just starting to get into the gay scene around the University. I never knew there were so many faggots in the world! I come from a small Southern town, and I had always thought I was the only one in the world! I played football and baseball and ran track (I was really into the macho stuff) and I was always afraid that I'd pop a boner in the locker room (but it never happened). I sure did lead an active fantasy life, though: I thought I'd wear my poor _d_i_c_k_ out before I was twenty! I used to rush home after practice to be there alone for an hour or so before my folks got in. I never got caught (there were a few close ones, though!), thank God! My parents still don't know about my secret life, even now, at least I don't think they do, anyway.
Anyway, the week before Halloween, Kyle told me about this really hot party he was going to. The _f_u_c_k_er made me beg him to tag along.
"I don't know if you could handle it or not, Brandon," he said, grinning. "It's gonna be a pretty hard-core scene."
"Oh, come on, Kyle," I said. "It can't be too bad, if you're going! C'mon, be a bud!"
"Well," he finally said. "I guess you can come ... if you promise to behave and not embarrass me. It's a costume party, so you'll have to wear some kind of costume." I winced: I've always hated costume parties.
"Hey," I said, finally. "I've still got my old football uniform from high school. I guess I could wear that."
"Hey," he said. "Not a bad idea! Besides, I've always wanted to check you out in football drag. Okay, it's a deal. Only, you've got to promise me that you'll do what I say while we're there." His green eyes flashed, and he grinned mischievously. I didn't know whether I should trust him or not, but I finally agreed.
I was really looking forwards to it! The night of the party, I got out my old football stuff: helmet, jersey, pants and shoes. I didn't have the pads anymore, but the overall effect was still good. I slipped into a jockstrap and pulled on the tight silver spandex pants and laced them up. I wore a pair of Nike trainers instead of my cleats (it's hard to walk in the _d_a_m_n_ed things, except on a field, and I didn't wanna wreck anybody's floor, either).
I was checking myself out in the full-length mirror when Kyle came in. He was dressed as Peter Pan, in green leotards and a shirt with a lace up front. He even had a Peter Pan hat. He and his boyfriend, Craig, had spent hours on the costume. He looked cute. Kyle is kind of short and boyish-looking, so he made a great Peter Pan.
"Wow! What a stud!" he exclaimed. "Turn around." I did, and he whistled. "Man, you look hot! You must have been a tight end ... you sure have one!" I laughed.
"Yeah," I said. "I was. I'm more of a receiver, now, though!" We both laughed at that. I did look pretty good: the tight material showed off my ass real well (and I'm not bragging when I say I have a cute one; everybody says I do!). The jockstrap showed off the bulge at my groin (I'm not bad there, either!) too.
"You're wearing a jock under your pants?" he said, grinning.
"Hey," I said. "I'm supposed to be a football player, okay? It's part of the costume!"
"Okay ..." he said. "But don't blame me if that hot butt of yours gets you into trouble tonight."
We hung out at the street party long enough to smoke a couple of joints (I don't smoke weed much, but this was a special occasion). As usual, it made me a little goofy and light-headed, and I, was laughing at everything. About eleven or so, we went on to the party. It was just a few blocks away, so we walked. It was a wild night: lots of college kids, dressed in all kinds of weird costumes, most of them homemade and a lot of them pretty good ones, too.
We got to the party, which was at a big house with a huge back yard.
"My professor, Jules Poincaré, lives here," Kyle said, as we walked up to the front door. "He and his lover, Peter, own the place. It's got a jacuzzi and a pool in back, too."
"Cool," I said. We knocked on the door and a ghoul with green goo all over him answered the door.
"Kyle!" the ghoul said, giving Kyle a big hug. "My, what a cute little Peter Pan you are! And, who is this?" It was Dr. Poincaré, I guessed.
"Oh, this is my roommate, Brandon Winston. He really used to play football. This is his old uniform."
"Well, Brandon," the ghoul said. "You can play on my team, anytime!" He laughed. "Come in, boys, the party's just getting interesting.
We went through the house, to the patio in back, where all the people were. It was really done up! There were about fifty people there, most of them students, and the whole place was lit by jack-o-lanterns and hanging, glowing ghosts. There was a huge, bubbling cauldron, filled with punch, with dry ice to make it bubble. The pool even had a fake body floating in it, with a knife protruding from it's back.
I got a glass of punch and we circulated a bit. I recognized Craig right away: he was dressed as the Terminator, with even a glowing red eye.
"Great Terminator costume!" I told Craig.
"I am not de Terminator," he said, in a mock Arnold voice. "Just call me de SPERMINATOR!" I had to laugh at that one. "What are you, a tight end?"
"Uh, sure," I said. It wouldn't be the last time I heard that one.
"Are you gonna stay for the after-midnight festivities?" Craig asked.
"I guess so," I answered.
"Does he know about the ..."
"Shh!" Peter Pan said. "It's a secret! He'll find out soon enough. Here, have some fairy dust!" Kyle reached into a leather pouch and sprinkled Craig with a handful of glitter. Then he flitted off to annoy some more of the guests.
I ended up talking to a couple of guys I know from around campus, one in a toga and the other in a suit of armor. One of them had some more weed so ... well, you know. I was feeling pretty good, by then. The weed made me all tingly, and the air was cool. I felt very turned on, like I usually do when I smoke weed.
A little before midnight, Peter, Dr. Poincaré's lover, came around with a big bowl and a pen and paper. He had me write my name down and drop it into the bowl.
"Is this for a prize?" I said, innocently. Boy, was that a dumb question!
"You'll get a prize, all right!" he said, giving me a slap on the butt. It wasn't the only one of those I got that night, either!
By midnight, most of the crowd had drifted away. Kyle got me by the arm.
"C'mon," he said, grinning. "Now for the really fun stuff!" I followed him into the cabana, which had been decorated inside like a barn, with bales of hay and pitchforks and all. There were about twenty guys there, mostly students, although there were a few older guys there as well. The bowl was placed on a hay bale, and Dr. Poincaré stood behind it.
"All right!" he said. "Attention, please! The time has come for the drawing of the first ... victim!" There was a round of hoots and applause. "As usual, I will draw the first victim's name and, uh, administer his punishment!" There was another round of laughter and cheers.
"Bring on the first victim!" Someone shouted. I looked around for Kyle. There he was, standing off to my right, grinning right at me. I pushed my way over to him.
"Hey, man!" I said. "What's this victim stuff?"
"You'll find out," he said. "And you have to do what I say, remember? You swore you would." I got a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, but, at the same time, it was kind of exciting. Oh, well: whatever it was, I was in for it, I guessed.
"And the first victim is ..." Dr. Poincaré said, drawing a slip of paper from the bowl. "... David Miller!" There was a cheer, and a buff young guy, dressed in jean overalls with a big straw hat, was pushed forwards.
"What will be David's fate?"
"Over your knee!" Someone shouted, and several others echoed it.
"Hey!" I hissed at Kyle. "Is this some kind of spanking party?"
"Don't play innocent with me," Kyle whispered back. "I saw all those spanking websites you had bookmarked on my computer, like MMSA Stories Spanking Stories. And I found that spanking video you thought you had so well hidden, on top of the bookcase. I know what you like. And you're gonna get it, too!" I admit that I started to get a hard-on at this point. I had always fantasized about being spanked, but I never had the balls to tell anyone. Now, I was at a real, live spanking party! I really started to get turned on!
David Miller, looking boyishly sheepish in his Huck Finn getup, walked slowly to the front. Dr. Poincaré, seated on the hay bale, grasped him by one arm, roughly.
"Davy," he said sternly. "You've been a bad boy, and now you're going to get what you deserve!"
"Yes, sir," David said, meekly, and allowed himself to be pulled across the older man's lap. My _c_o_c_k_ was really swelling now! I looked down and saw, to my horror, how it stood out in my tight, silver football pants! I looked up and noticed grins on a couple of faces, turned in my direction ... my face got hot.
David was over Dr. Poincaré's knees now, like a bad little boy. His overalls were tight and faded over his round, muscular ass. The good Doctor raised his hand and brought it down, hard, on the hapless boy's behind with a loud "POW!". David yelped. The crowd shouted encouragement.
"Give it to him good!"
"Whip his ass!"
David squirmed and hollered as Dr. Poincaré smacked his behind, over and over again, as hard as he could. I could see David's butt tense under the punishing blows, and his bare feet kicked up in the air behind him.
"Oww! Please, sir! Please! I'll be good! Owww!" The crowd loved it. Finally, David was allowed to stand, grimacing and rubbing his ass. He was obviously not wearing underwear: his hard _c_o_c_k_ bulged through the faded denim.
"Has he had enough?"
"No! No!" Came the reply.
"Bare ass! Bare ass!" they chanted. I started to chant with them (I wanted to see this dude's bare rump turned red!
"You heard them, boy!" Poincaré said, sternly. Davis slipped the straps over his meaty shoulders and pulled his overalls down to his waist, then bent obligingly over the professor's knees again. Dr. Poincaré tugged at the overalls until he pulled them down, almost to David's knees ... what a butt! It was round and muscular and bright red! There were more cheers.
"SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!" went the professor's meaty hand on David's blazing butt-cheeks! He howled in pain, as his gorgeous ass was decorated with hot red hand-prints. Finally, he was allowed to stand again. His _c_o_c_k_ stood straight out from his body, hard as a rock. He pulled his overalls up gingerly and rubbed his butt, grinning sheepishly. There was applause.
"In keeping with tradition," the professor said, extending the bowl to the well-beaten boy. "David will get to punish the next victim!"
There was a hush as David reached into the bowl and pulled out a slip of paper and opened it. You guessed it ...
"Brandon Winston!" he read, out loud."
"Oh, _s_h_i_t_," I said, quietly. Kyle laughed, grabbing me by the shoulder, and pushing me forwards. I could see the wicked smile on David's face as I was pushed to the front.
"Oh, man!" he said, sizing me up. "A tight end! Well, you're gonna be a sore end, when I get through with you!"
"The paddle! The paddle!" Someone yelled (I think it was Kyle), and then everybody was demanding that I get it. I looked up at David (he sure was a stud!). I had my reservations (I'd never been spanked before, not by anybody!) but the thought of having my tight young ass at the mercy of his (obviously!) powerful arms got the best of me.
"Okay," I said. "But take it easy on me, okay? Please?" This caused a roar of laughter.
"You want it, football boy!" somebody said. "Check out that boner!"
"Bend over that bale, boy!" David said, and I complied. They had stacked one bale on top of another for my benefit, so my feet just touched the ground. Dr. Poincaré handed David a wicked-looking fraternity paddle, and David swung it through the air a few times, for effect. My throbbing _c_o_c_k_ was pressed hard against the hay bale, and I could feel the straps of my jock pulling across my tight, virgin ass.
"You're gonna feel this!" he said. I shut my eyes.
"KAPOW!" went the paddle, right on the tenderest part of my poor bottom! It burned like fire, but I didn't holler. He took a couple of seconds to let it sink in: I felt the warmth spread through my butt and down to my groin, where my _c_o_c_k_ felt like it was about to explode.
"KAPOW!" God, it hurt! I bit my lip, hard.
"KAPOW!" I let out a whimper. My butt was burning, now. He gave me a few seconds between each one. The stinging sensation was awesome!
"KAPOW! KAPOW! KAPOW!" I finally let out a yell, but it wasn't what I expected:
"Y-y-yes!" I heard myself moan. "YES! OWW! OWWW!"
David applied the paddle to my tight little butt like a pro ... he didn't miss a spot. The thin fabric of my football pants did nothing to protect my hitherto un-paddled teenage bottom. It was wonderful! Each smack of the hard wood against my burning flesh rocked me forwards, grinding my throbbing _d_i_c_k_ against the hay. Tears streamed down my face! I felt myself getting closer and closer to orgasm; I knew just one or two more ...
"KAPOW!" went the paddle. "KAPOW!" and, with a loud groan, I came, right there in front of everybody, the hot cum soaking through my jock and my football pants. David paused, as I lay there, moaning in pain and ecstasy.
"Ohhh ..." I groaned.
"Okay. Stand up!" he commanded. I did. There was a huge wet spot at my crotch. There was applause and cheering. "Man! You really took it good!" David said, offering me his hand. My knees were weak. "Let's see that butt, boy!" Obediently, I turned around. I unlaced my pants and shoved them down.
"_d_a_m_n_! I've never seen a butt so red!" Someone said, and there was more applause. I pulled my pants back up and laced them. My poor ass was blistered raw.
"Here," David said, offering me the bowl. "You earned it."
I reached into the bowl and pulled out a slip of paper. Whoever I chose was really going to get it. I opened the paper, and a broad grin spread across my face ... YES!
"Kyle Loughton," I said, laughing.
"Oh, no!" Peter Pan attempted to fly away, but he was caught and brought to me.
"You're not gonna take this personally?" he said, meekly.
"Bend over, Kyle," I said, taking a seat (very gingerly) on a hay bale. There were a lot of interesting implements to choose from, but I thought Kyle's skinny little ass would feel a wooden bath-brush best. I held him firm, his little round-boy-butt across my knee, with only the sheer fabric of his green leotards to protect it.
Well, I gave Kyle what he has told me was about the best beating he ever had! He twisted and fought me, but I'm a lot stronger than he is, and I beat his little round bottom until he sobbed for mercy (and it wasn't all for show, either!). When I finished with him, I wasn't the only guy with a wet spot, either!
Well, to make a long story short, I've been to a lot of spanking parties since then, and I've had my ass whipped good and hard many a time, but I'll never forget the excitement (and the pain!) of that first time. Oh, and by the way, David Miller and I are kind of an item, these days, and he still thinks of me as a tight end (for sure!).
THE END