[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.]
That night at Spank Island, Ricky and Derrick went over the stories of Brad giving painful punishment to his "pawns" at the South pier. Ricky pondered how to use this information to get closer to his dream plan to have the two self-proclaimed kings of the summercamp, Chris and Justin, stripped, bent-over, and at his mercy. It would take ingenuity and allies. He saw how powerful Brad was in the upper circle of kids with his widespread gambling venture. And he saw a way to get Brad in his debt and show the teenager it paid to be on Ricky's side. He needed the three kids who worked under him.
"Josh and Mac work the gambling tables for Brad," Derrick explained, "and Malcolm is their pittboss. We'd need Malcolm to get away with anything, but he won't help us. Brad's got him by the nads."
"Right," Ricky nodded. "Josh and Mac still don't know that Malcolm set them up for that Cherry Pie and Hot Seat payoff. Malcolm's the key, but he won't turn while Brad's got the goods on him kept secret. So here's my idea to get Malcolm to see the light."
As Ricky told his plan to the mischevious brunette, Derrick squirmed as he got a throbbing woody in his swimtrunks. Ricky knew he'd hit the right button.
The next day, Ricky and Derrick called Josh and Mac to the back kitchen before lunch, when the place was deserted. The two gambling pawns wondered who these newcomers were and what they wanted.
"I've got good news and bad news," Ricky said, strutting in his tight speedos and loose shirt. "The bad news is your buddy Malcolm arranged for your asses to get toasted that night on the pier. He set you up as payback for when you helped paddle him the week before at your poker game."
Josh and Mac looked at each other with dropped jaws. "No Way!" "Aww Maaaaaan!"
"Think about how much he convinced you to get in debt that night to Brad, and then didn't get nailed himself. Think about how he's pitboss now, and you're just dealers."
The small blond and slender brunette grew angry with red cheeks... on their face.
"The good news is," continued Ricky, "I've invited Malcolm here for a private lunch to convince him to help us nail Brad in a bigtime way. I need to show him it's better to join us. And I want you two guys to have the pleasure of doing that showing. Game?"
The two small runts nodded vigorously, pounding fists into palms. "Game!"
Malcolm arrived at the back pantry, dressed in tight blue speedos and sleeveless T-Shirt.
"What's up dudes?" he asked Mac and Josh. "Why are you here?"
"What's up is your butt," Josh growled.
"And they're here," Ricky said genteely, "because I'm a friend who just wants to clear things up between you three so you can all get together and help me get Brad."
"I'm not gonna help anyone get Brad." Malcolm said firmly, and started to back out the door.
"Why not?" Mac demanded, grabbing one wrist.
"You in some kinda debt?" Josh asked grabbing the other wrist.
"Maybe a secret he's holding over you," Ricky added, "something you want to get off your chest?"
Josh and Mac released their grip, grabbed Malcolm's T-Shirt, and yanked it over his head. Before the barechested Malcolm could recover, now Ricky and Derrick held his wrists.
"Hey!"
Mac came back behind the rascally scoundrel and grabbed the waistband of Malcolm's speedos. "I think you better bare all," Derrick punned and nodded to Mac, who had Malcolm's speedos down to the boy's ankles with one swift yank, exposing the nervous nelly's nether region.
"HHHHEEEEEEYYYY!!!!!!" Malcolm's eyes filled with fear. He saw that Josh and Mac knew the truth. Bareassed, he blubbered a quick confession, hoping for mercy. But the memory of the Cherry Pie and Hot Seat episodes did not leave his pals so easily.
"Wh...wh...whatya gonna do?" Malcolm continued to blubber.
"Well," Ricky mused, "the boys here are going to work out their feelings with you so they'll feel like you're all even again, and to show you why it would be better if you were on our side."
"We're gonna whip your butt," Josh smiled.
"But first, we're gonna have lunch." Mac grinned.
Malcolm was confused... a little frightened. "Lunch?"
"What do you want?" Mac asked. "Hot dogs? Hot dogs sound good?"
Malcolm nodded fearfully.
"Baked beans?" Josh chimed in. "Frank and Beans okay by you?"
"Guys," Malcolm started to beg, "I didn't know he was gonna make your punishments so... so exotic."
"You are so full of it," Mac snapped back. "We found out YOU arranged it all a week before you set us up. Practically begged him to nail us."
"I saw you smiling and high-fiving Brad when I was getting it," Josh agreed. "Dude, you held open the door when Brad dragged me out butt-naked in front of the entire pier. Can you imagine being dragged around by your nuts with a leash, nude in front of all those kids? Or were you too busy laughing your ass off?"
"Oh yeah," Malcolm glumly admitted. "I forgot about that."
"We didn't," the two smaller boys chimed. "Let's do lunch."
Mac opened a can of baked beans and put them in a bowl in the microwave.
"Ohhhhhhhhhh..." Malcolm was starting to get the idea. He pulled against Ricky's and Derrick's grip, but the two bigger boys moved him to the edge of a prep table. Malcolm was told to bend over, facing down towards the metal surface with his backside bent over the edge.
"One Jumbo Dog, coming up," Mac piped. "Oh, these dogs are frozen solid. Any idea where we can stick it to warm it up?" Mac banged the cold, hard hotdog loudly against the prep table, making Malcolm wince as he saw the extra thick plump 6-incher was rock hard.
Ricky and Derrick, holding Malcolm down firmly over the table, each contributed a hand to spread the cheeky cherub's cheeks wide. Mac took a ketchup bottle and squirted a glob on Malcolm's o-ring. Josh took the frozen hotdog and set the end just against the kid's keyhole.
"Wooooooaaaahhhh," Malcolm reacted as just the tip of the torpedo was so cold it burned hot against his hole. "Please guys... I'm so sorry..."
"Oh, you will be," Mac grinned. "Order UP!"
With one swift motion, Mac slammed the entire 6" icedog up the brat's backdoor with the heel of his palm. Malcolm's entire body stiffened with the sudden, painfully frigid intrusion up his rear, and then as the cold turned hotter and hotter, the fledgling started wagging his butt wildly back and forth.
"TAKEITOUT TAKEITOUT TAKEITOUT," Malcolm yammered, "OHHHHHHHHHHH OW OW OW OW OWWWWWWEEEEEEEEEE TAKEITOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW."
"I think that's why they call it a hotdog," Mac smile, holding it firmly in all the way.
"PLEEEEEEEEEEEEESE TAKE IT OUT," Malcolm wailed.
"I got a better idea," Josh took Ricky's nod with a wink, "Let's get those speedos back on."
The slender brunette took the speedos and pulled them quickly up the quivering wisecracker's legs. As Ricky and Derrick held Malcolm up and Mac kept the hot Lincoln Log firmly in place, Josh hiked the speedos tight around his wrenching waist, and then did the unthinkable. Josh took a handful of speedo in the back and yanked up hard, wedging the suit painfully up Malcolm's middle crack and making sure that burning missile up the boy's butt was not moving out even one inch. A rope was slung over the kitchen center beam and tied to the back of Malcolm's speedos, and then pulled taut so that the hapless lad was hanging by his wedgie with his toes barely touching the ground.
"OOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH", Malcolm's wailing had evolved into a long groan as the tight front of the speedo pulled hard against his groin. The boy's involuntary response to the rude entry up his butt was that he now sported a hardon that sprouted out two inches over the top of his waistline, leaving just his walnuts being painfully squeezed by the front pull of the wedgie. Malcolm's wrists were tied tightly together behind his neck, fastened to the rope keeping his bathingsuit hauled up hard in his crack.
The microwave dinged.
"Time for some baked beans," Mac smiled.
"Oh, no! No, no, no, no, no... you can't be serious," Malcolm whined. "It's way too hot."
Josh took the bowl out of the microwave and the bubbling thick stew had steam billowing off the top.
"Tell you what," Josh put it down on the preptable inches from Malcolm's front bulge. "You watched my balls get boinked by the little league baseball team on the pier before I was given the 'Hot Seat.' So I'll leave it up to you as to how long we let these baked beans cool down. You get your pecans paddled until you say stop. When you say stop... then it's time for your second course to go down the front of your undies."
Josh patted Malcolm's bulging basket to get a bead on the boy's bon-bons, and then lifted his hand high in the air. The flat palm arced in a downward curve and impacted with the imp's marbles with a solid "SSSSSMMMMMAAAACCCCCKKKKK"
"OOOHHHHHHHHHHHH," Malcolm twisted hard on his rope. Suddenly, the burning baton up his butt seemed unimportant as pain ignited between his legs.
Josh put his left hand on the small of Malcolm's back to hold him in place, and began serving the mischevious mite a full-speed frontal spanking. Malcolm roared as Josh gave a handsome helping of handball that landed a world of hurt on the dangling dude's datenuts.
"WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP"
"OH! OW! YEOW! UGHN! NAAAA! OUWWWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE"
Malcolm's knees tried to cross and the wailing whelp tried to bend forward on his wedgie, but Ricky and Derrick knelt and grabbed his ankles, pulling the legs far apart and letting all the boy's weight hang hard on his painful speedo harness. The blows rained down so quickly on the lad's loquats that he had taken twenty taps to the turnips before he could even stop yelping enough to say understandable words.
"I...ughn...I...ughn...can't....ughn...Owwwwwwwwwww."
Josh did not stop the pace of his punishing peach-pit pounding, but said verly clearly "STOP is the magic word, Malcolm. You want to say stop?"
Malcolm winced with the continuing whacks on his walnuts, but everyone could see his eyes worriedly checking out the steaming bowl of baked beans. In the heat of the grueling punishment, he had to decide whether the hard licking delivered between his legs was more painful than his upcoming chestnut roasting.
"WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP"
"UGHN! NAAAA! MPPPPHHHH! OOUUPHHH!"
Malcolm received another dozen dashes to the dingdongs before he could blurt out "STOP."
And Josh stopped. Mac picked up the bowl of baked beans, which had at least stopped bubbling but was still steaming.
"Oh... I... I mean... can I just..." Malcolm tried to sputter.
Mac pulled out the taut front of Malcolm's speedos and could see the boy's beechnuts nestled inside. Mac mischeviously winked at Josh and poured the hot bean-porridge into the pup's pecker-pouch. He let the speedo front snap back tight, and stepped back to stand with the other boys to watch the results.
Malcolm's eyes widened. Malcolm's mouth widened. Malcolm's muscles on his chest and arms bulged. Malcolm's legs began to kick so wildly that the four boys needed to take a step back to stay clear. Finally Malcolm's voice caught up with the rest of his body.
"YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW"
"Wow," Mac had to yell loudly himself for the other boys to hear him, "I think maybe he wished he had taken a few more in the nuts, huh?"
Josh and Mac high-fived with grins as they watched Malcolm wildly twisting and jerking on his wedgie harness with a forest fire going full force between his legs as he continued his full-lunged hollering without any let up for at least two minutes. And when he was able to stop hollering, all he could do was gasp for air as the unbearable burning in his basket came down to just a reasonable level of lingering glow of hot pain. But just as he started to get to the point where he didn't have to kick wildly any more as he hung by his speedos, he heard the microwave ding again.
"Noooooooooo, pleeeeeassssse!" he started whining and twisting again, "no more baked beans!!!"
"Oh, I think your beans got plenty baked," Mac said using a potholder to take out the microwave's contents and hiding it behind his back for the moment as he looked at the two inch top of Malcolm's tentpole sticking out the front of the speedo waistline. "But now let's have something for your carrot top."
Mac pulled out from behind his back a steaming muffin. Malcolm started shaking his head back and forth with a desparate no in his eyes, but his mouth couldn't speak as he was so stunned at the thought of what that heated dough was going to feel like planted on the top of his pinhead. Josh pulled the speedo front out and below Malcolm's throbbing hot hazelnuts. The baked beans were released, but they had done their work. Now Malcolm's masthead was sticking forward at an angle, rock hard, and ready to receive the toasty topper.
"Ooohhhhhhhh......." Malcolm finally found words as he looked at Mac's padded hand positioning the large muffin just above the pointed peak of the pup's pike.
"Wow," Josh smiled at Malcolm, "your balls sure are glowing red from those baked beans. Wonder if your dick's gonna be that bright after this."
"Myyyyyyyyyyyy......" Malcolm was looking down at Mac's hand hovering just above his target.
"One thing I know for sure," Mac grinned at Josh. "This is REEEEEALLY gonna HUUUUUUUUUUUUUURT."
And the small blond imp placed the piping hot muffin on Malcolm's cherrytop and twisted down so the lad's pole-head was buried deep into the center of the baked treat. The dangling dude's waist immediatedly started whipping about but the the pastry was fixed firmly on the fledgling's flagpole and clearly doing it's job.
"Ahhhh.... AHHHHH...... AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" Malcolm's hollering hit the same decible level as when his beans were getting baked and now that his beanpole was feeling the full intensity of the bun burning, the boy's entire body was quivering and quaking as he bounced and twisted on his speedo suspension.
"I just can't resist," Mac said to Josh and delivered a few slaps of his own to the wailing waif's walnuts whenever the thrashing whippersnapper's waist was steady enough for a solid shot. The muffin seemed to take much longer than the baked beans to cool off, for it was a full five minutes before Malcolm could stop hollering. Mac pulled off the muffin. "Wow!" Mac remarked, "I think your dick is even redder than your balls!"
Malcolm could only whimper when Ricky asked if he was ready for his buns to get their due.
"Ye...ye...yessssssss, pleeeeeeeassssseeeeee." Malcolm finally blubbered, "Jussssssst ge.. ge.. get it over with. Kaaaaaaaaaaay?"
Ricky shrugged his approval to Mac and Josh. Derrick and Ricky held the suspended stripling in place, his speedos deep up his crack and his cheeks split as two smooth alabaster globes seemingly unblemished compared to the red-hot results of the front. Mac and Josh each took an industrial wooden spoon and positioned themselves on each side of Malcolm. The spoons were for the industrial bowls meant to serve hundreds of kids, so the boys were able to wield them like baseball bats. Ricky had suggested them because not only would they deliver a terrific walloping, but the deep bruising results would have Malcolm's mounds so tender as to guarantee a painful wince everytime he sat down for a meal.
Ricky explained to Malcolm, "They agreed that a hundred swats would make you even for the hundred they got from Brad's boys."
"A hundred?" Malcolm wimpered more in disbelief than in complaint.
"A hundred EACH," Josh injected.
"Yeah!" Mac confirmed.
"Ohhhhhhhhhh," Malcolm wimpered as his two buds lined up in their batting stance.
THHHHHWWWWWAAAAACCCCCKKKKKK
Josh's swing hit home solidly on the saucy sapling's stern.
"OHHHHHHHAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWW", Malcolm jerked hard against Ricky and Derrick's grip. The boy couldn't believe after the thermo-nuclear treatment of his front that a butt-whalloping could be so painful. But his rear was now virgin territory for his pals' payback, and they could see that this thick-wooded tattooing was going to treat their buddy's backside to a whole new level of painful punishment.
THHHHHWWWWWAAAAACCCCCKKKKKK
"AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHWWWWWW", Malcolm jerked again. "I can't... oh.... ahhhh... I can't do a hundred of...."
THWACK THWACK
Josh and Mac started an alternating beating of the boys buns
"No, I can't take...."
THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK
"Noo... Noooo... please let me just ..... AAAHHHWWWEEEEEEEEEEEE"
THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK
The steady rain of wood on the runts rump quickly turned the alabaster smooth white to deep crimson red with angry raised welts rising where the center of the jumbo spoon heads left a bruising report.
THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK
Ricky and Derrick held the dangling dude in place as his derriere was dealt hard fast blows from the boys' bruising bats, but the legs were kicking wildly and the wailing grew steadily weaker from exasperation. His buns felt like they were getting toasted on a red-hot barbeque and the coals were just getting hotter and hotter.
THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK
The punishing pummeling went on as Mac and Josh laid out every lick with such glee and satisfaction as a result of the long and painful memories of the lambasting they had received at Malcolm's instigation. Malcolm couldn't think that clearly and was just hearing his mind go "OWWW OWWW OWWW OWWW" until two hundred hard swats had made the tike's tail look like he had spent an hour sitting on a beehive. It felt even worse.
Ricky and Derrick released the excruciating wedgie-rope and the hotdog shot out of the boy's bum... now fully thawed by the heat exchange. Malcolm was so exasperated from the long, grueling, fiery punishment he wanted to sit down. But he knew that was not a possibility. And he wanted to put on something to cover his nakedness. But he knew that was not a possibility either.
"So," Ricky smiled. "Everybody happy?"
Josh and Mac nodded eagerly.
"And we have a new partner to help us nail Brad?" Ricky asked Malcolm. "Remember, he's the one that got you into this mess. So you can keep getting more from us, or you can join us and give it to Brad. What's your choice?"
"Give it to Brad," Malcolm said meekly at the floor. His arms were still up in the air with his wrists tied together behind his neck. "You gonna untie me?"
"Well," Ricky said. "There was one more thing Josh insisted on."
"Nooooooo," Malcolm tried to pull away but was held as Josh tied the end of the rope tightly around the base of the boy's bat and balls. The pipsqueak's package was still glowing bright red.
"I just wanted you to get a little taste of one more thing I got from Brad," Josh gave a hard yank on the leash and the lad had no choice but to follow the pull of his boypackage.
Malcolm suddenly realized that in all the punishment, he had forgotten the time. The front lunch area would now be packed with hundreds of boys.
"No... no way dude... please not in front of everyone...."
"Oh come on," Mac said from behind Malcolm. "You know they're all used to seeing punished bottoms every day."
But not mine! Malcolm thought. And I've still got a raging hardon!
"But I have to admit, I don't think anyone's seen this," Mac grinned as the microwave dinged again.
"Oh no. No.... NOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Malcolm tried to pull away as Mac approached with another steaming muffin.
Ricky and Derrick held the upraised elbows and Mac planted the piping hot pastry deep onto the sobbing sapling's joystick. Josh gave a hard yank and pulled Malcolm through the diningroom doors just as the blazing-hot breakfast bun hit the nuclear level on the lad's lollipop. Malcolm's hard-lunged hollering sounded like a siren so that the hundreds of boys stopped their normal commotion to see the sprout forced to sport the steaming sweet treat sizzling on the end of his swaggertick. Everyone broke out into clapping, hoots and hollers as Josh led Malcolm at a slow trot around each and every one of the twenty lunch tables with the brat bawling like a banshee for all to see the steaming baked bun bouncing frontside above his bright red rasberries while wagging an obviously bruised and battered backside. As Malcolm ran the gambit, a lively 16 boys on each of the twenty rows contributed sound slaps to the boy's butt as he trotted his laps.
And through the whole final episode, Ricky was already planning what the boys could do to help him nail Brad bigtime.