Bobby knew how much trouble he was in. The 14 year old had been caught smoking cigarettes by his mom and she said she'd tell his dad when he got home from work. Bobby knew what THAT meant. Even though his dad smoked, he was determined that Bobby not pick up the habit. What his dad didn't realize was that it was too late. Bobby had been hooked and hooked hard since he was 12. Sneaking cigs from his dad's pack of Camels or bumming smokes from friends, Bobby smoked every chance could. Nothing except jerking off gave him more pleasure. The best was smoking WHILE jerking off!
But now he was going to pay a heavy price. Punishment always meant spanking. When Bobby turned 12, his dad had told him that, from now on, spankings would be on the bare and with the razor strop. The first time he got it that way, Bobby thought he would pass out from the pain---he didn't think anything could hurt that much. It was so bad that after the third lick he wet himself, adding deep humiliation to the pain. His dad noticed when Bobby began to urinate and waited until he had finished before resuming the spanking. He knew that a lick with the strop while a boy was peeing could do internal damage. But his sympathy didn't extend to letting up on the punishment! When he was done, his son had a butt that was completely covered with welts of deep red and purple. 20 licks had reduced the boy to howling & quivering. Stretched out on the bed with a pillow (now quite soaked) under his midsection, Bobby was a well-whipped boy.
After that first time with the strop, Bobby found it impossible to sleep on his back for 3 days, and sitting down was excrutiating. But after the first night, the searing pain had dulled and Bobby discovered something rather amazing. While looking at his badly beaten ass in the mirror the next morning, he realized that his _c_o_c_k_ had become rock hard and he had a desperate need to stroke. As he massaged his _c_o_c_k_ and neared ejaculation, he felt his ass muscles begin to tense, and as they did, the pain began to return. But it was not the searing, burning pain of the stropping. It was, instead, a delicious ache deep inside mingling with the _s_e_x_ual urgency. When he shot, he felt a wave of hot pleasure like he'd never felt before as his _c_o_c_k_ shot nine powerful spurts across the bathroom to splatter on the tub and tile.
Bobby now realized that as horribly painful as the stropping had been, something had been triggered by it. Still, as intensely pleasureable as his post-spanking masturbation was, the pain of the bare-assed stropping that preceded it was so bad he never actually found himself wanting to get it. The three times he'd been stropped since that first session had been just as bad---he had peed each time in the middle of the punishment.
But now, he knew he was in for another. As he heard his dad's car enter the driveway, he began shaking and shivering with fear as his eyes filled with tears. He glanced at the well-oiled strop hanging from a hook just inside the door to his room--as a reminder his dad had said (as if the memory of each stropping wasn't fresh in his mind and reminder enough!).
He heard his parents talking in muffled tones downstairs and soon the sound he dreaded began, that of his father's footfalls on the stairs.
The door opened and his father entered Bobby's room. Bobby looked up and his father saw a face marked by terror. A goodlooking boy with light brown hair and blue eyes and a solid, well-muscled body, Bobby was already turning girls' heads (and some boys' heads too). More than once, Bobby's dad had reflected on what a heart-breaker his son was becoming.
Bobby's dad had no time for that now, of course. Bobby must be taught a lesson he would never forget. Smoking could ruin a boy's health. A serious lesson called for serious teaching. 35 five hard licks should do it.
"Son, I am very disappointed. Very. How could you do it? You know how I feel about smoking."
"I know, dad." Bobby said, his shaking voice betraying his fear.
"But I can't help it. You smoke. You know what it's like when you need a cigarette. When you gotta have one, nothing else matters---you just need it bad."
As he reached for the strop, his dad said, "That's true, son. All the more reason for the punishment you're going to get. You have to resist the urge. It's not easy to do---that's why I hoped you'd never start. You obviously need some help to quit. In the next ten minutes you're going to get a lot of help! Now, arrange the pillows, strip down and get on the bed."
"Oh, dad, please don't whip me!" Bobby pleaded, tears coursing down his handsome face. "I'll stop smoking--I promise I will!"
"Oh, I'm sure after we're finished, you will! Let's get going"
Bobby put two pillows in the middle of his bed and began to remove his clothes, now openly crying. After stripping, he got on the bed, positioned himself over the pillows and reached out to grasp the bedstead---he knew the drill.
"It'll be 35 licks, son."
Bobby groaned; he'd never recieved more than 20 before.
"When you start to pee---and you will---tell me and we'll hold up until you've finished."
Handing Bobby his hanky, Bobby's dad told him to bite down on it if he wanted.
With that, his dad rolled up his sleeve and took the brown, supple strop in hand.
"Here we go," he said. And, with that, he brought the strop from over his shoulder and down across Bobby's ass.
CRACK!
Bobby's body jerked and a muffled scream escaped his lips as a bright red stripe matching the 3 inch width of the strop bloomed across his butt.
CRACK!
CRACK!
CRACK!
"I'm gonna pee!" Bobby screamed.
His dad stopped and, sure enough, a yellow stain bagan to spread rapidly on the pillows. He waited.
"Finished?" he asked quietly.
Bobby moaned and nodded his head.
His dad resumed the whipping.
On and on it went. Bobby spit out the hanky and began screaming with each lick. He could not imagine there could be so much pain in the world as was concentrated in his poor butt. But not only there. Spreading outward, the burning pain engulfed his whole body, as though his father was spraying hot bacon grease on him. By the 25th lick he actually wondered whether he might die. Surely so much pain must mean serious injury!
When he'd finished, Bobby's dad surveyed the damage. Bobby's butt was deep crimson and purple and so were the tops of his legs---those strokes had brought especially piercing screams from the boy.
"A well-whipped boy," he thought. "I bet he never touches another cigarette as long as he lives..."
Three days later...
Bobby had never thought a person could bear so much pain. He got almost no sleep that first night and his mother had brought him his meals for two days so he wouldn't have to negotiate the stairs.
Now, looking in the mirror, Bobby stared in disbelief as his bruised, swollen buttocks. Three days, he thought, and it still looks like hell. The pain was still there too, but it was now an ache, not the deep burning of the last few days.
He knew that ache! His _c_o_c_k_ rose to its full 6 inches. He'd never felt so horny! And another ache began to rise---the ache for a smoke! "God, I need a cigarette so bad," he said to himself. Picking up his backpack, Bobby fumbled inside until he found what he wanted---a non-filiter Camel. Slipping it into his jeans and arranging himself so his hardon wasn't too obvious, he went downstairs.
"Mom, is it OK if I go out for a while?"
"Of course, honey," his mom said brightly, glad to see him recovered enough to want to leave the house.
Bobby made his way across the back yard and into the woods that bordered the house in the back. Now he was breathing fast, so excited was he at the thought of smoking and stroking. His _c_o_c_k_ almost hurt it was so hard.
After a while he came to the clearing---the one he knew so well, the clearing where he'd satisfied his nicotine urges for 2 years.
He unsnapped his jeans and pulled down the zipper. His fully erect _c_o_c_k_ sprang out, the head purple with need and slimy with pre-come. He took out the Camel and, with shaking hands, struck a match. As he drew in that first drag deep into his lungs he was hit with the most amazing buzz he'd ever felt. He almost shot without touching himself.
The cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth, he bagan to caress his _c_o_c_k_ with one hand while running the other over his swollen, bruised ass. As a finger passed over his hole he took drag and moaned as the thick smoke escaped his nose.
Soon enough, he knew he was too close. Taking an enormous drag deep inside his lungs, Bobby began to pump. As he exhaled a long, thick column of smoke, ropes of sperm began to shoot--6, 7, 8, 9 of them. He inhaled another deep drag and 3 more long spurts erupted, flying 5 feet in front of him as he exhaled the sweet smoke. Just as he'd wondered how a body could bear so much pain a few days before, now he wondered how a body could experience so much pleasure.
For rest of the day, Bobby bummed around town, waiting for the smell of the smoke to dissipate. It was the tell-tale smell of cigarette smoke that had alerted his mother three days ago. Bobby's dad had said he wanted him to learn a lesson. Bobby had learned it well....