As the plane taxied towards the terminal, the immense crowd of young people – largely girls – began cheering and shouting. The plane stopped. The steps to the airplane were wheeled to the door, and immediately the ranks of police formed two lines. Buffering the long, wooden walkway, elevated 3' above the dense, clamoring crowd, they would guard the arriving, celebrity from the plane stairs, along the elevated walkway, to a private door at the terminal. They would keep away the huge, pressuring crowd that began moving towards them from both sides.
The door to the plane opened, and shrieks and shouts erupted. A tall, lanky, blond-headed, blue-eyed young man, with high cheek bones and angular face, wide shoulders and narrow waist, and long, lean arms and legs, emerged: Mats Madsen – international heartthrob and rock star from Denmark. He was arriving to begin a two-week, concert tour of American cities. The lofty, thin, sinewy, former soccer and ice hockey player, at 6'5" and 210 lbs, had just begun adjusting to the new, worldwide fame he was experiencing. A genuinely quiet, shy, and private young man, he had found himself at the center of a hurricane of fame and fan adulation when a cd that his friends and he had made rocketed to global popularity. His was the soft, strong, resolute vocal that drove the music.
Dressed in tight, blue, velvet pants, with a short-sleeved, t-shirt made from the Danish flag, and white anklets with blue and white running shoes; he stepped to the top of the stairs, waved blushing, and grinned broadly at the crowd. His blue eyes flashed as the crowd responded wildly. He twisted his waist and hips, as he kicked his right leg out and backwards, simulating a backwards pass, soccer motion. The crowd went nuts. Loudspeakers began blaring music from one of his current hits, and Mats began descending the stairs in time with the beat. About four steps from the bottom of the stairs, Mats stepped up slightly onto the wooden boardwalk, to begin the walk to the terminal.
At both sides of him he saw the lines of policemen, crushed by the sea of young fans pushing through the arms of the guarding officers. Playfully, he stepped to the right edge of the boardwalk and repeated the backwards pass kick. The mass of fans surged towards that side. Quickly, he backed away, laughing and smiling boyishly. Still grinning, he went to the left side and repeated the same leg gesture with his left leg.
THWAUNK! Mats' leg was grabbed out from under him, and he felt himself fall down, seated hard against the wooden deck. Before he could push himself up to regain his footing, he left leg was yanked harder, and he fell backwards twisting against the wooden walkway. As he turned to the left, he felt hands and arms grabbing his left arm, and then his slim waist, powerfully as well. Before it dawned on his mind what was at stake, he felt himself pulled off the wooden deck and falling onto a wave of arms and hands grabbing him almost simultaneously in numerous places on his body.
"STOP! STOP! Fire a weapon!" Mats heard the policemen shout. Too late, he was being swept along at unthinkable speed, on the arms of hundreds of young women and men, away from the elevated wooden walkway.
As he was juggled up and down, spread out across, and transported over, the sea of arms and hands grabbing him, Mats lost sight of the lines of police and even the raised walkway that he had forfeited by his careless, inciting conduct. Swiftly, he was seized with panic. What was happening? Where was the crowd taking him? What was going to happen to him?
The music continued rocking, while Mats was hoisted and lowered, and dragged along. He was frightened, and automatically began to struggle, trying to free his arms and legs, and gain access to solid ground. It was pointless, of course. Never in his +22 years had he felt so many hands and arms grabbing him in so many different places all over his body. Hand and arms were grasping his arms, chest, legs, thighs, feet, back, and buttocks. The stimulation of so many different, sensitive, and until now untouched, private, areas electrified his senses. His sensory awareness was becoming sharpened, and he also was beginning to be aroused. And still he was being conveyed along the flows of arms and hands.
OH! WOW! OH! WHEW! Hands were reaching under his t-shirt, clasping his bare stomach, chest, and underarms. He felt his shoes being pulled off, and then his socks being taken down his feet. OH! WOW! OH! OH! His feet were bare and hands were grabbing them. His arms were wrenched upwards as his shirt was pulled up, over his head and off his arms. A seeming thousand arms and hands were touching and enclosing his now unclad chest, waist, stomach, and arms.
Loud yells of "YEAH!" and "YES!" went up from the crowds as shoes, socks, and then the t-shirt were tossed high into air. Meanwhile, he felt his fly being pulled down and hands and fingers grabbing his firm, small buttocks, and his lean, bony hips. The pants were coming down! He thrashed about, turning side to side, trying to keep his pants from being lowered over his hips.
OH! UH! WHEW! UH! OH! UH! NOOOOOOooooooooo! It was futile, as the tight, velvet pants were peeled down his thighs, past his knees to his feet and ankles. They too flew as a signal into the air. He felt himself stirring, getting erect. OH! AH! WHEW! AAAAAH! More hands and fingers clutching his now-stripped legs and thighs, along with his bare stomach, chest, back, and feet! The more he turned and thrashed, the stronger the stirring stimulation of innumerable, prodding hands and fingers. One girl lowered her head to kiss and bathe his neck and chest with her tongue.
OH! Uh-OOOO-AAAAAH! WOWOOOOOOOO! Uh-YEAAAH! Hands and fingers now reached under the waistband of his boxers where no one had touched in many, many years! He was very excited and erect. Other hands were grabbing the sides of his boxers and the waist, and yanking them down over his hips – but they caught on his tilting penis.
AYUH! Uh-uh! AUGHAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!! A hand took hold and squeezed his pulsating, tented penis, pulling it out of the way of the boxers that rapidly traced the path of his pants down his legs, and off his feet. "AYUH-UH-UH-AAAAAEEEEEEEE!!!" His howled protests were unheard.
"YEAHAAAH! YEAHAAAH!" This time the crowd roared its approval at the sight of blue and white boxers flying up into the air.
Mats, totally denuded, gasped as he lay yet helplessly spread out over an ocean of surging hands and arms, continuing to hand him farther and farther along. And still the hands were grabbing him, his face, neck, and hair; his chest and stomach; his hips and butt; his feet, legs, and thighs; his now-thickened, quivering penis and his scrotum. He was frantic, gasping, and desperate. At the same time, he could hardly contain a single thought, as his body was besieged by assaults of sensory stimuli.
He fought furiously, floundering amidst the countless hands, arms, shoulders, and knees by which he was poked and clutched and carried along. At the same time, he felt himself strangely being stirred from more and more pleasurable stimuli exciting him. Hands reaching and rubbing his stomach; rubbing his thighs and grasping his scrotum; rubbing the sides of his ribs, his underarms, and hips; all the while one or two hands embraced and stroked his swelling, mounting erection, transformed his struggles against his captors into flailing that adjusted to correspond to, and collaborate with, the touching and movements of the innumerable hands and fingers.
AAAH-YUH! WHEWAAAH! He gasped as he rocked and writhed in coordination to the electrifying, stimulating handling and fondling of his entire, naked body. OOOO-AAAAH! Uh-uh-HUHAAA-WOWWWW! Stimulation overload! Never had he been subjected to so many hands and fingers applied to unthinkable places never before invaded. He couldn't believe it! He couldn't think! He couldn't stop it! He couldn't help it! He couldn't . . . , couldn't . . .
Abruptly, his undressed, captive body arched and strained both against, and with, the incalculable, recurrent shock to his mind and stimulations to places on his exposed body. His hands and fingers, feet and toes, stiffened, spread out wide. His eyes squinted closed, and his mouth opened wide to scream an unheard cry of delight. "NOOOOOOO-AAA-OOOOO-AAAA-YEAAAIEEEYAAAAAAAH!!!" Hot, pent-up, virile, virgin semen discharged from his exploding penis. Again and again he wrenched and trembled, spurting and emptying, while in the hold of seemingly endless hands of complete strangers.
Apart from his own private pleasures, he had never before experienced or known externally kindled pleasure – and this was beyond anything he could have imagined! He convulsed over and over, stirred with chills of delirium sweeping over his body and mind. At the same time, humiliation, shame, and blame began to eclipse the subsiding thrills of his euphoria. OOOOOoooooooh! How could this happen?! How could he have been so foolish to flirt with risk like he had teased?! Now what was going to happen to him?! How would he get away?! All he wanted to do was to escape and hide. Could he?! How?!
"Look at what superjock just did? Superstar just shot a huge load all over everybody!" That was a deeper, male voice that he heard as he was held in the now-unmoving grasp of myriad arms and hands, resting on a number of legs and knees. "Ooooah!" he heard many feminine voices respond.
"He's not such a hot shot! – no self-control, no embarrassment at all!" another male voice denounced. "I'll bet he'd get some self-control and be embarrassed real quick if he got a spanking for this! That's what he needs! What d'ya think?"
"OH, YEAH! YEAH, YEAH!" a thunder of voices, mostly deeper male, some higher female, resounded.
"Well, then, let's get to it! You know what he needs! Let's give it to'im!" He felt himself being turned and rolled over in the many arms grasping him, as he was stretched, face down, draped across several guys bent legs. "Watch out, man! He's a wet, sticky mess all over – his legs, stomach, and chest!"
The guy at his head and neck, grabbed Mats' head, pulling it downward to face the pavement, then rested his arms on the back of Mats' head and shoulders, pinning him down at the top. The guy at the other end hooked one of his legs over Mats' legs, locking them down. The guy in the middle tucked his left arm around, encircling Mat's naked waist, while he raised his right leg to elevate the young Scandanavian star's bottom as a poised target. Realizing what was taking place, Mats wrestled and fought, trying to wrench himself free. Not that there was anywhere he could run. But it was in vain, anyway, as his tormentors' vice held him fast.
WHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACK!
YAH-AH-WHEWWW! A torrent of hard, smacking, hand spanks rained down on his upturned, bare behind.
WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!
Twenty-five more, solid spanks rapidly battered his backside. WHEWEEEEEE!! This was stinging! Not to mention the overwhelming embarrassment of being stripped, and overturned before thousands of American fans, to be spanked like a small, bad child! He began grunting and groaning under the assault to his bare rearend.
"Uh-unghaa! Ummunghaaa! Ummmaaaphaaanghaaa! Oooophaa-ummm! Umphaaaa! Uhnghaaaaa! Unnnghaaaa! Uhng-unng-unng-gaaaa-aaaaah!"
WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!
The barrage was harder and more than he could endure. Not since he was a small boy had his behind been spanked like this. He twisted and writhed, ensnared in the trap of his captors. As much as his locked-in legs could move, he tried to kick. He thrust his arms and legs up and out, again and again, trying to turn away from the fiery swats that were igniting his bottom. He bucked and bounced up and down on the knees of the one whose stone hand was pummeling his burning backside. To no avail. He was caught in the vice and could not breakout.
WHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!
The blistering was delivered faster and faster, harder and harder. Mats was already spent from the earlier flood of sensory stimulation. Now, his mind and backside were being jolted by the outrageous battery attacking his blazing bottom. He could not be heard, as he shouted his begging and pleading for his assailants to stop.
"STOP! OSTOP! UHNGRRRAAAA! OOOO-AAA-STOP! D-DON'T! ST-STOPIT! OOOOO-P-PLEEEZ! OOOO! YOUCAN'T! STOP! YOUCAN'T! OOO-uh-UNGRRRAAA! N-N-NOOOOO! NOAAAAH! STOP! PLEEZE! OOOO-STOP! PLEEZE! AUNGHAAA! IT'S-AH! HURRRRTING! AAA-HURRRRTING! N-NOOOO! STOPIT! STOPIT! PUH-uh- LEEEEZAAAA! NOOOOOOaaaah-N-NOOOOOO! STAAAAHP! PLEEEEZ! OOOOO!"
The music continued wailing, and so did the guys paddling Mats' inflamed bottom.
WHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACK!
'Though no one could hear him, he broke and began shrieking and weeping, choking and gasping, amidst strangling sobs. Again his body was wracked with convulsive shaking, this time in hysterical crying and screaming.
"AUNGGGHAAA! Uh-uh! EEEYOW! OWOWOW! OOOO-EEYOW! Uh-uh! OOO! Uh-augh-ah! AIEEYOW! OWEE! OWEE! OWEEYOWEEYOW! Augh! Uh-uh! OW-uh-uh! OOOOO! NGRRRAAA! Uh-uh-uh-OOO-EEEYOW! OW! YEEOW! OOOOOOO! Uh-uh-ngha-uh-uh! OOOOO-uh-uh! NOOOOO-uh! P-PLEEZ-aaaah! Nnnghaaa-uh-uh! OOOO-uh-NOOOO-uh! NOMOOOOOR! Augh-uh! OOOOOoooooo!"
He lay sprawled, heaving and shaking, across the knees of the men who held him fast and were paddling him intensely. He was unable to speak through the coughing, choking gasps of sobs that racked his lungs, as the inferno torching his behind continued mounting to an unthinkable, torrid torment.
WHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACK!!
Mats' mind was dazed and numb, and he could only bawl involuntarily, stunned by the incessant scorching of his behind, as he hung stretched across the knees of his assailants. His exposed bottom was dark red, hot, and branded by the cascade of pounding smacks. No longer was he the celebrated, super-jock, idol from Europe. He was as mentally and emotionally beaten, as his buttocks and thighs. He was an animal captured in an agonizing trap, with no hope of escape or release. He was a shamed and shameful, bewildered child who had misbehaved and brought unspeakable misery on himself.
He did not notice or realize at first that the guy continuing to deliver the downpour of smacks against his incinerated, smoldering bottom had reached further around Mats' waist, under his abdomen, and grabbed the young man's now shrunken penis and scrotum. When he became aware that his already limited movements were now further restrained by a powerful grip on his formerly chaste privates, his bare backside was sizzling with pain and punishment. He wailed and shrieked with each emblazoning smack adding to the inferno on his behind.
Only shortly later did he realize that he was becoming aroused and hard again in the clamped fist holding him firmly in place. Mats tried to protest; but it was too late and of no use. No one could hear him anyway. He tried to muster some strength to resist and fight, but he had none. Powerless under the scalding hand that kept on spanking, he was also defenseless to the growing, thickening awakening that was gathering in his recently spent penis. He got harder as the guy grabbing his penis held on to it, while continuing to spank Mats' butt real hard. He seemed like he was really mad now. He must have spanked Mats for almost 20 minutes more. It seemed like a lifetime. From amidst his choking sobs, Mats squirmed and cried out, it hurt so bad; but the guy kept spanking him while grasping his penis.
The hand that tethered him by his penis, restraining his movements, slid back and forth, up and down, as he tried to twist and squirm and bounce. He tried to call out – to resist – this treatment, but his bawling tears shut it out. He cried, but kept on squirming under the hot spankings, while sliding up and down, in and out of, the sleeve that held him tightly in check.
The searing pain on his bottom, and the swelling pleasure on his penis, were joined, confused, mingled, and merged. Then, all at once, it happened. He detonated again – spurting and spewing into and out of the hand that still held him fast. Mats started coming all over the place, slinging around and wetting the legs and hands of those who had him clamped down, as he squirmed from the pain and the pleasure of this scene. The guy just kept gripping Mats' penis and spanking him even harder. His naked, roasted butt was afire and burning. "OH! Uh-AAAAH! OOOO-uh-augh-uh-uh-uh-NOOOOAAAAH! Uh-uh-N-NOOOOO-uh-AAAAAAOOOOOOOOOO! YEAH! YEAH! YEAH! YEAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!!" No one heard, of course.
OH-NOOOOO! MORE HUMILIATION! He was so embarrassed. He had just undergone stimulation beyond anything he had ever experienced, or even imagined. It was bad enough to have his bare butt whipped across strangers' knees, but to have an erection be held, growing and exploding again, while being blistered with a searing series of spanks, was even beyond what had already happened to him only 30 minutes earlier. It was just too scandalous, weird, and outrageous even to imagine! He was humiliated and disgraced beyond comprehension to have undergone, and succumbed to, this abuse. But he couldn't help it – he was a hostage to this mob of American fans.
The voices of those administering the spanking spoke up again. "The creep has gone again! No shame! Put a belt to his bottom!"
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
Mats screamed with unimaginable agony, as a belt from somewhere now bit his already painful butt over and over and over.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
Each stinging lash of the belt to his anguished bottom evoked shrieks, but he had no strength, no resolve – nothing. He collapsed into incoherent screaming, sobbing, weeping, and choking.
Suddenly, the crowd erupted. "Hey, cop cars are coming through!" It took a while for the four police cruisers to push their way through the, in order to reach the young superstar whom they had abducted. He now lay naked, left in a curled up ball on the pavement, as a clearing widened from the disbursing crowd. His angry, trounced bottom was an instantly shocking sight.
The young Scandanavian was hysterical and irrational, unable to speak or respond except for gagging sobs and whimpering moans. In a few minutes, emergency medical services arrived, hoisted the now limp and emaciated young star onto a stretcher, covered him with a sheet, and removed him to a nearby hospital. The next day his parents arrived from Copenhagen. After a week, he was flown back to Denmark with his parents, for rest and recovery at the quiet family home. Mats did not ever venture to travel on a tour of concerts outside of Denmark again, however.