[NOTE - If you have been reading these chapters, you've figured out these are CARTOON CHARACTERS. It's like on Tom & Jerry when one gets hit with an anvil and hollers and is back to normal in 2 seconds. Don't take any of this too seriously.]
Next Saturday came quickly and Josh and Mac were surprised that Malcolm was so enthusiastic about returning to the gambling shack. After all, Malcolm's seat still must have been sore from the bruising he received during last week's visit. But still, the mischevious Malcolm told his friends it would be a special gambling event. There would be a lot of boys playing. Brad, the young teenager who ran the gambling shack, was going to allow stakes to be advanced with no cash required up front.
Saturday night meant the pier was crammed full of boys partying to loud music and trying to beat the heat by wearing short shorts and T-shirts and no shirts and usually no confining underwear. The party was in full swing and the three boys had to push hard to worm their way through the gyrating bodies to get to the shack at the end of the pier.
The shack entrance was guarded by the usual goons that still made Malcolm wince when he thought about the punishing service he had to serve last week. And he remembered how his pals Josh and Mac watched his paddling with glee and delight. They even participated in helping their buddy's butt get burned. Now Malcolm was going to cash in on Brad's offer to help turn the gambling tables on Josh and Mac.
The boys entered the gambling shack and found it packed with boys playing craps, routlette, blackjack and poker. The party favors were flowing, the music was grinding, and they found out why it paid to be on the invite list. Brad came up and heartily greeted them.
"No hard feelings?" the big kid slapped Malcolm's butt and was pleased to see a wince still come a week after the paddling.
"Just here to play," Malcolm replied. "Heard we could get an advance."
"Up to a hundred bucks," Brad indicated the chip counter. "But make sure you don't lose more than you can cash out."
"No prob," Mac pushed his way to the counter. "A hundred bucks."
"Me too!" Josh chimed in.
Malcolm looked at Brad who gave a wink and a wicked smile. It was a predictable trap. Brad had arranged the dealers to let the two youngsters easily win. Malcolm also had a hundred advanced and played cautiously. But Josh and Mac got heady with their riches and started betting heavily. And when they lost, they kept going. And kept going. And kept going. Until they were broke. And it was time to pay up the hundred dollars. Brad demanded payment.
"Uhmmmmm," Josh said, the quiet shy brunette looking meekly at the ground.
"Errrrrr," Mac said, the spry little blond looked hopefully at Malcolm.
But the smarmy dark haired boy looked back with an eager smile and said "You guys didn't bail my ass out of the fire last week. Now it's your turn to pay the price."
"You guys got any money?" Brad asked, indicating for the guards to come over. The rest of the room was taking an interest in Josh and Mac's dilemna. The boys shook their heads no. "I think," Brad said to the crowd, "it's time everyone sees what happens to those who welch on their bets."
The guards led the boys to a strange looking small structure off towards the back of the shack. It was a low wall, about 6 feet across, and as high as the boys' nipples. There was a single hole in the middle of the short wall, about waist high.
Mac was told to strip first. Since the heat kept clothing to a minimum, that didn't take long. And the little blond's nudity in the midst of so many boys make the tike's toothpick stick straight out.
"That goes through the hole," Brad told Mac. The little blond reluctantly stepped up to the wall and poked his poker though the hole. A guard grapped the shaft and pulled hard so the boy's balls popped through as well. A leather _c_o_c_k_ring was snapped tightly around the base of the lad's package and tied to a ring on the floor, and now Mac was fixed firmly in place. His nuts and bolt bulged out one side of the wall. His bare buns were quivering in anticipation of what was going to happen on the other side of the wall.
The guards got a nod from Brad and they each took up a large oar. One stood on each side and waited for the signal.
"A hundred dollars," Brad said, "equals a hundred swats."
"NO WAY!" Mac protested and now tried to pull on his restraint. That was a mistake and the boy groaned at his efforts. His arms were now put over the wall and each wrist was tied to the _c_o_c_k_ring. The boy's hands were not going to interfere with the payout.
The guards lifted the oars in the air. Mac started moaning even before the first swat. Josh was moaning because he knew he was next. And Malcolm was grinning bigtime!
Mac heard the swish of air and...
SWAT!!! His right cheek suddenly was lit on fire.
"Oh oh oh oh oh...." was all the contrite tot was able to get out before...
SWAT!!! The left cheek turned into a second source of pain.
"Yeooooooooowwwww," Mac tried to wriggle in his confined position, but any pulling of the wrists or movement of his backside caused considerable pain to the front portion. If it was this painful after two swats, what was a hundred swats going to feel like?
Now the guards started to lay out a steady stream of swats on the schoolboy's seat and the silky alabaster globes began to glow pink.
SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT!
The oars rained down solid pain on the pup's patoot and the sapling was squealing while at the same time trying to take the swats without too much twisting against his restraints.
SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT!
Mac's mounds were now a bright crimson red, taking alternate shots left and right, as the entire room was hollering and egging on the oarsmen.
SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT!
Mac could only let out a long "OOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHH" as his hind end reached heights of heated pain that he never imagined possible.
SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! SWAT!
And now the steady rhythm of rump roasting left the runt exhausted of breath and fight and he just limply let the lambasting licks light up his leeward side for the long count a hundred swats.
When the last swats were soundly finished, the crowd turned to watch Brad as he slowly walked over to the food counter. He picked out a large cherry pie from the rows of baked goods that were sold to the clients, and instructed the counterboy to remove the top crust and put it in the microwave.
Ripples of excitement ran through the crowd. They had heard of the "Cherrie Pie" but had never seen it done. Josh squirmed, waiting for his turn. Malcolm was delighted. Mac's eyes were wide and incredulous as Brad put on an oven mit and took the cherry pie from the oven.
The pie was just larger than the circumference of Mac's butt. The blond brat now looked over his shoulder as the big teen balanced the steaming tin of gooey red pie-filling studded with red hot cherries.
"Oh dude," Mac begged, "please please please don't. I'll pay you double. I'll pay you triple. I'll do anything... just don't.... oh man...this is going to hurt a lot, isn't it?" the little blond boy slumped resignedly.
Brad moved behind the runt's rear end and held the pie just back from the buck naked butt.
"This is going to REAAAAALLY hurt a lot," the pubescent proprietor grinned and the crowd rhythmically clapped faster and louder to egg Brad on. Mac squeezed his eyes closed and started whimpering as just the heat off the topless pie seamed to sear his already seasoned ass.
As the crowd's noise peaked, Brad shouted "Dessert Time!" and pressed the hot pie against Mac's quivering mounds. Mac's hundred swats had left the sassy schoollad's seat smarting with a solid sting and ultrasensitive with every pore on his smooth skin wide open and gasping for cool air. So when Brad planted the piping hot cherry pie across every inch of the cherub's cheeks, Mac felt as if his butt had just gone nuclear.
The blond boy's entire body bucked and the wall holding him by his walnuts jounced. Mac's face screwed up and his lips let out a "WWWWWWWWWHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!"
His legs kicked out and his arms flailed. This added pain to his pinioned front chicken nuggets but that front pain barely registered to the boy who wailed even louder and louder as his backside wriggled in the red hot filling. Brad held the pie hard and fast as he dodged the boy's kicking legs.
"I'll drop this as soon as you count to a hundred." Brad yelled above the lad's hollering.
"wonuthrefurivsixeveneighnineten..." Mac ran through the numbers as fast as he could while the crowd whooped and hollered.
"Hundred!" Mac yelled triumphantly.
Brad stepped back and let the pie plate drop. But while there was an immediate relief from the red hot burning, the boy's butt was still covered with the pie filling and Mac groaned and moaned as Brad took his time untying his restraints. Finally Mac was set free and immediately started wiping the hot pie filling off his burnt buns, then tried sitting on the floor and rubbing it off on the floor.
"I think that might provide faster relief," Brad pointed to a shallow bucket of water and the small dude gratefully dunked his derriere into the water and gave a sigh of relief.
And all eyes turned on Josh.