Lord Byron 18 – Making up! Dedicated to Jawan!
When the two boys were gone, Robbie had little left to do other than examine his conscience. Although he was annoyed by Byron's extreme reactions, he knew in his heart and soul that he hadn't a leg to stand on if he tried to defend his actions. It was wrong to have made contact with the two without having spoken to Byron, or somebody else in the know, first. It wouldn't be difficult to find Byron now, he was most likely in the pub on the corner, having a pint and muttering angrily to himself. Robbie took his jacket, pulled it on and walked out the door.
Sure enough, Byron was seated in the local hostelry glowering into his pint of bitter. Robbie walked up behind him and coughed a bit. Byron simply ignored him. "Do you come here often?" Robbie asked softly. "F_u_c_k_ off you daft twat!" Byron snapped back through clenched teeth.
Although Robbie wasn't too sure on his feet, he thought it better to stay with this rather than to simply turn and go home. (As a top he would later regret the position he was getting himself into!) He sat beside his friend and smiled sheepishly at him. "Do you mind if I join you?" he asked innocently. Byron glared at him, he was just about to speak when Robbie cut him off. "Look Byron I know what I did was stupid, nothing happened between me and those two blokes. Honest!" Byron made no reply, the barman approached and Robbie ordered two more pints. "Cute!" Byron muttered. "Sorry?" Robbie replied. "The barman, he's cute!" Robbie looked at the barman and smiled to himself, Byron was right – the barman was cute. He looked to be about twenty years old, dark haired, slim with a deliciously curved bubble-butt tightly framed in his work trousers. "I bet that arse of his would look great after an encounter with your black mitts!" "F_u_c_k_ that!" Byron said a bit too loudly; "I'd love to slip a length up that f_u_c_k_ing cute arse of his!" The barman looked over at the two young men sitting at the counter and blushed a deep crimson red. "Oh f_u_c_k_!" Robbie muttered realising that the barman had heard them, "how much have you drunk?" Byron didn't answer, he just slurred a groan and slumped over his pint with his head between his hands. The barman, still blushing deeply, walked over to them with the two pints. "Eh! That will be one thirty-six please sir!" he said to Robbie.
Robbie fumbled in his pocket looking for the money. He pulled out a fistful of change and selected a couple of coins from it. The new pound coin made it difficult to know exactly what you were spending and Robbie was relieved when he realised he had seven of them in his collection. He held two of them out to the cute barman who smiled as Robbie's hand slipped the coins into his. "How many has he had?" "That's his fifth!" the young barman replied as he slipped his hand under Robbie's, making a contact that lasted one second too long to be ordinary. "I suppose I'd better get him home then!" Robbie said. "Do you live far from here?" the barman asked still blushing. "About five minutes walk!" "I'm on a break in a hour or so, if you want I'll help you to get him back, he's a bit drunk at the moment!" "Thanks!" "You're welcome!"
Byron didn't speak after that. He was too drunk. In anger he had swallowed three pints quite quickly and they had simply gone to his head. Robbie drank his pint uncomfortably, the hour was slowly ticking away- he just wished it was over and he could go.
About fifteen minutes had passed when the landlord came into the pub. He walked in behind the bar and went to the door into the house part. As he passed he noticed Byron but didn't say anything. He returned without his coat a few moments later and spoke quietly to the barman. Robbie wasn't sure what they were talking about, he felt a bit paranoid, thinking they were obviously talking about Byron's condition.
The young barman walked quietly into the house and returned a few moments later wearing a black bomber jacket. The bulky mass of his wrapped upper body contrasted starkly with the slim lower half. Robbie smiled, the guy looked extra cute now that he was wearing the jacket – he looked like a man with boy's legs. "The guvn'r let me go on an early break because I told him I'd help you get this chap home!" he said as he approached the front of the bar. Robbie picked up Byron's untouched pint and lowered it in one big mouthful. Then, taking Byron between himself and the barman, they led the drunken youth out onto the street.
"I really appreciate your help like this mate!" Robbie said. "No problem," the barman replied, "besides, the name is Danny." "Hello Danny!" Robbie said as he struggled with Byron's near dead weight, "I'm Robbie and this is Byron!" "Are you a couple?" Robbie was stunned by the directness of this question; he paused before he began to answer, as he wasn't quite sure what to say. "Sorry to ask..." Danny muttered quickly as he sensed that his direct question had caused such discomfort. "It's just your mate here was saying he was into me and I thought you might be .... eh .... well, you know ...." "Bent?" Danny blushed. Robbie smiled to himself, he knew from Danny's soft accent that the lad was Irish, he also knew that he was feeling cheated himself by losing out on shafting Chris and Simon .... "Yeah," he said, "we're bent!" .... God was being nice to Robbie, he had lost out on an evening's hot s_e_x_ with the two lads but here was his compensation. A tight, virginal Irish bum for his truncheon to pound .... "it's not the normal word we'd use, but as you say Danny we're both bent," he paused for a second, "just like you!" Danny felt his face flush with that remark. He was just a nineteen year-old lad from Crumlin in Dublin. He had finished secondary school just over two years ago and, as the economic scene in Ireland was pretty dire at that time, he had moved to England partly for work and partly to express the fact that he was (as he termed it) 'bent'! "Yes!" he choked softly, "I am bent as well!" Robbie reached out and pulled the young barman into his chest, he hugged him. Danny began to tremble in his arms, this was going too fast but he didn't quite know how he was going to stop it. Robbie reached down and cupped the hard mounds of arse-flesh. Danny tried to pull away but the policeman had him tightly. He could feel his d_i_c_k_ lengthening and hardening in his trousers as the policeman kissed him full on the lips.
Danny felt uneasy, the strong smell of beer off Robbie's breath made him recoil a little. He was just about to speak when Robbie took Danny's left hand and cupped it over his own d_i_c_k_. "Go on mate, give it a squeeze!" Danny looked in horror, he was beginning to feel dizzy, his head was light and he slumped in Robbie's chest. "Hey slow down guvn'r!" Robbie laughed "I know it's big but I don't want you fainting on me before you've had a chance to sit on it Paddy!"
Next thing Danny found himself kneeling on Robbie's bed with his trousers around his knees, his arse in the air and a near-stranger spreading cold Vaseline into his hole. Robbie still hadn't learned too much of the subtlety of foreplay! How the cute barman found himself there was a mystery to him, all that Danny knew was that he was on his break, bent over and about to lose his virginity and he didn't know if he wanted to say stop. Certainly his d_i_c_k_ was saying yes – Danny could never remember having an erection the size of the one he had now before.
Robbie slumped forward and pressed his knob against the barman's hole. Danny closed his eyes and clenched his arse tightly; he didn't want to go ahead with this. "Come on Paddy!" Robbie muttered through his clenched teeth, "open up in the name of the law!" With that Danny lurched forward and scrambled to pull on his trousers. "What's the matter Paddy?" Danny struggled to stand, "my name's not Paddy!" he said quickly. "Aw f_u_c_k_!" Robbie relied, "I know your name's not Paddy, it's just you're Irish and all Irishmen are called Paddy! It's a term of affection!" "You're a policeman!" "Yeah!" "Are you going to arrest me?" Danny asked clearly scared. Robbie laughed, "for what? Resisting?" But Danny still looked scared, he wasn't laughing. "I have to get back to work!"
Robbie realised that he had been too forceful with the young man; he was only a few days into queer lifestyle himself! While Robbie had taken to s_e_x_ with men immediately, he suddenly realised that Danny wasn't quite as quick off the mark. Robbie quickly came to his senses. "I'm sorry mate!" Danny froze; he stopped shaking and stared open-eyed at the handsome man before him. "I, I'm really sorry mate!" "F for what?" Danny stammered. "For moving to fast with you. I thought you was gagging for it so I ...." "It's okay!" Danny said softly as he buttoned his trousers, "I'm sorry I'm not ready for this yet!" Robbie looked at the young Irishman in front of him. F_u_c_k_! He was beautiful! "Do you want to come back and talk after work?" "No I have to get back to the flat!" Danny relied. "Are you living with some mates?" Danny laughed, "yeah! There's seven of us in the one room!" "Seven! And are all bent as well?" "F_u_c_k_ no!" Danny said in a high pitched almost laugh, "They're Irish! And as you should know, there's no such thing as an Irish queer!" "Do they know you're queer?" "No way man! They'd f_u_c_k_ing kill me if they ever found out!" "Does your family know?" Danny just looked at him in disbelief. Robbie blushed now. "Mine don't know either!" he admitted softly. "What would happen if they found out?" "Probably the same as what would happen you!" Robbie replied with his head hanging. Danny reached over and put his hand on Robbie's shoulder – "I know how you feel, it's not easy!" Robbie looked up and Danny sensed the policeman's vulnerability. "Do you really want me to drop in after work?" Robbie looked up and smiled. "I finish work at about eleven, see you!"
Danny looked back over his shoulder as he walked through the door. Robbie was sitting naked on the bed looking down at the floor, Danny thought he saw the young man cry, but he wasn't sure. "See you later!" he said softly. "Oh yeah! Ta-ra mate!" As the barman closed the door quietly Robbie began to sob – 'you're such a f_u_c_k_ing prick!' he said to himself, 'that bloke is lovely – and you tried to rape him!' What Robbie didn't know was he was falling in love! He lay on his bed and began to sob into the pillow.
WHACK! Robbie quickly came to his senses as Byron's palm landed firmly on his left cheek. "How is my naughty child-molester friend?" Byron slurred. Robbie quickly turned in the bed just as another of Byron's slaps landed sharply on his thigh. He grabbed the black youth and the two of them began to wrestle. Byron was wearing a pair of the navy boxers that Brian had given him. The silk bunched up exposing his cheeks as the two men heaved against each other. With a quick turn Robbie's superior strength (and less drunken state,) had the two friends falling of the bed and rolling around the floor in a minute. The cheap nylon carpet grazed their shoulders as they twisted and turned on the floor. They reached the wardrobe door and stopped with Robbie on top pinning his mate beneath him. Byron looked up and smiled. "You're still going to get your arse beat!" he panted. "For what?" "For bringing those kids home, that's what's for!" "F_u_c_k_ off Black Babe!" Robbie laughed, "You're still f_u_c_k_ing pissed!" "Not too pissed to whack your arse!" "But too pissed to know your own nickname!" "Did naughty little Robbie call me Black Babe again?" Byron giggled. "He did! And even better than that naughty little Robbie is going to whack drunken little Byron's black arse for being a total f_u_c_k_ing plonker tonight!" "No way copper! There ain't nobody ever beats my arse!" "Oh yes there is a way Byron, and if you object you'll get it ten times worse!" "If you don't submit to my rules you can move out of my house!" Byron, drunk as he was, froze – he couldn't go home, couldn't go back to Brian and Andrew, in fact, he had nowhere else to stay. He had no choice really – "Spank me then!"
Robbie released his grip on Byron's shoulders and stood, Byron also staggered to his feet. Byron pulled his boxers off. His bottom felt cold and vulnerable. "Bend over my knee." "That's too humiliating...couldn't I lie on the bed, or something else?" Byron pleaded. Robbie shook his head and patted his thigh. Byron staggered drunkenly over to Robbie's right side. He half expected Robbie to reach down and pull Byron across his knees, but Robbie only sat silently, waiting. Finally, Byron put a hand on the policeman's shoulder and lowered himself across his lap. He clenched the muscles in his buttocks, dreading the first slap. Robbie patted him gently. "Since this is your first spanking from me Byron, I'm going to start by giving you some warm-up spanks for getting drunk. After that, I'm going to spank you for acting the prick. And to finish off, I'm going to give you the paddle for calling me a child molester. Understand that mate?" WHACK! Byron felt a stinging on his right cheek before he had time to answer. WHACK! Another slap landed, this one on his left cheek. He could feel the warmth spreading across his bottom. F_u_c_k_, was this what getting spanked really felt like? WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! Three spanks on the same spot. Byron shifted his weight. He was enjoying this and could almost understand what Brian had enjoyed for so long, 'it felt good to have your arse warmed' he thought to himself. "Lie still," Robbie ordered. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! Five more spanks, each a little harder than the last. "We're getting going now," Robbie remarked. "Hold on for the advanced course, Byron getting whacked for being a prick!" WHACK!
The first 'real' spank caught him right on the centre of his buttocks. Byron shrieked in a high-pitched yelp. WHACK! Another one landed, just as hard as the first. "Ouch, that hurts Robbie stop!" He started to struggle, but Robbie clamped Byron's back with his fist in the small of the black youth's back. 'Police training can come in handy sometimes!' he thought as he restrained the struggling black teenager. WHACK! Another spank, and WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! Five more landed on the same spot. Then WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! Five to his right cheek, and WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! Five landed his left. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! Several sharp blows to the sides of his bottom, making him wiggle and cry out. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! He lost count of the blows, tensing his butt against the pain, then realizing it didn't help. WHACK! WHACK! Robbie was spanking him over and over in the same spot now, hard and fast, not giving him any time to collect himself between the burning slaps. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! Byron's eyes burned with tears. "Ouch! God, Robbie, stop. Please, stop!" WHACK!
Robbie did. His hand stopped slapping Byron's bottom and started rubbing it gently instead. Byron gasped with relief and ran the back of his hand across his eyes. Robbie kept massaging his buttocks. "Let me know when you're ready for the paddle," he said, after a minute. "What?" Byron tensed. "No Robbie, I can't take any more, it hurts too much. I'm sorry I called you that...." WHACK! "You will take your full punishment tonight and the only way out of it is to let me f_u_c_k_ you for a month!" "Okay then," Byron answered immediately, "I'll take the paddle!" WHACK! The pain was intense and horrible, worse than anything he had ever expected. Byron howled, he had never thought that spanking could hurt so much. WHACK! WHACK! "Ow, Robbie not so hard!" WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! Obviously Robbie hadn't heard the plea! WHACK! (pause) Byron felt an intense heat rising in his arse. WHACK! (pause) He could feel his throat drying. WHACK! (pause) The pain was becoming unbearable. WHACK! (pause) Is this nearly over? WHACK! WHACK! (a long pause.) Had Robbie finally relented? Byron's buttocks were on fire. His throat ached from crying. "Is it over?" he gasped. "Not quite," Robbie said. "I just wanted you to have a couple of seconds to think things over and realize I will no longer put up with your crap. Got it?" WHACK! Byron nodded. "Good!" WHACK! WHACK! "Now get back to bed and sleep your f_u_c_k_ing hangover off!"
Byron struggled off Robbie's knee and bent over to pick up his boxers, His arse stung! As he leaned forward he saw an unfamiliar jacked on the floor, he reached over and picked it up. "Where did this come from?" Danny had forgotten his jacket. "It belongs to the barman!" Byron smiled, "you've had him haven't you?" "Not yet!" "He'll be back for his jacket!" Robbie knew what was going through Byron's mind; "touch him and I'll whip you so badly you'll beg me to kill you!" "Jealous are we?" "F_u_c_k_ off to bed!"