Thump! thump! thump! Joey heard someone coming down the stairs. _s_h_i_t_!, he thought, Nobody's supposed to be here! That "nobody was supposed to be here" was the main reason the boy had picked this night to break into Tony Stillino's barber shop. The burly Italian man had mentioned while Joey was pumping gas into the barber's car that he was leaving for the weekend to visit relatives.
That meant no one would be in the upstairs apartment where Tony lived alone.
No one else would hear him break in -- the barber shop was 'way out on the edge of town -- and he knew the Tony kept cash in the register, cash Joey wanted for beer. But now...
The boy moved quickly, his short but muscular frame crouching low as he headed for the door. Too late! The door to the upstairs apartment banged wide open, and a blaze of light flooded the shop. "Hey you! I see you there! Stay where you are or I'll shoot!" the big Italian shouted. Joey froze in fear as he heard footsteps crossing the slick linoleum toward him.
He looked up, and there was Tony pointing an evil-looking black pistol at him, clad only in blue boxer shorts that fitted tightly to his thick thighs.
"Get up, you little punk!" the burly barber shouted at the boy. Joey slowly stood up to face the man. There was no chance of escape now, anyway -- he could tell Tony had already recognized him, and even without the pistol, it was obvious he was no match for the barber. Tony's six-foot body towered more than five inches over the boy, and beneath a pelt of thick black hair powerful muscles rippled in the overhead lights.
"What the hell you think you're doin', punk?" the man demanded. Then Tony saw the wad of cash protruding from the boy's jeans pocket. "Robbin' me, huh? Not this time!" he shouted, shoving the boy backward against the mirrored wall that faced the lone barber's chair. "I didn't mean it Tony -- I was gonna put it back, I swear!" a very frightened Joey tried to placate the furious barber. "Bull_s_h_i_t_!" the man shot back. "I oughta..." he raised the pistol, and Joey shrank back with his hands outstretched. "No! DON'T!" the terrified boy shouted. "It was just a joke!"
Tony lowered the gun, his face flushed with anger. "Just a joke, huh? I coulda killed you, you stupid kid!" the man yelled. There was a snick as he flipped the safety on the gun. "You god_d_a_m_n_ kids! No, I'm not gonna shoot you. I'm gonna beat the crap out of you, punk!" Joey cowered in terror, the thought of those big fists crashing against him, pounding into his face, his belly.....the man came forward, grabbed the front of Joey's shirt, and pushed him against the mirror. "Make one move, do one thing without me tellin' ya to, and I WILL shoot ya!" the barber snarled. He laid the pistol carefully down next to a bottle of hair tonic, opened a drawer, and pulled out two neatly folded barber's aprons. Tony shook the big sheet-like aprons out, and with a whirling motion twisted them lengthwise. "Hold out your hands!" he commanded the frightened boy. "B-but what...." Joey began. "DO IT!" the big man shouted. Joey held his arms out in front of himself. In a few seconds, the barber had tightly knotted a corner of each apron around each of the boy's wrists. He gathered the other ends in one hand and half-dragged Joey around behind the big swivel barber chair. "Stand right there!" Tony told the terrified and confused boy. He walked around the other side of the chair, wrapped an end of each apron around his hands, and ......PULLED!
"OWW!" the boy yelled as he was dragged forward, slamming into the back of the chair. His arms were nearly pulled from their sockets as the big barber continued to drag the boy towards him by his tethered wrists, until Joey's feet left the floor and he was pulled up the back of the chair. Only when the boy's hips rested on the broad padded back of the barber chair did the man stop pulling. Tony rapidly wrapped several turns of the aprons first around one arm support of the chair, then the other, and knotted them securely. The struggling boy was secured to the chair, his arms painfully outstretched by the tightly knotted sheets, his legs kicking in empty space nearly a foot off the floor behind it.
"Hurts, huh?" the husky Italian snarled at Joey. "That's nothin'. You're GONNA be hurtin' in a minute, punk!" Joey raised his head slightly until he could see Tony's boxer-clad form in the mirror he faced. The barber reached down to the side of the chair and lifted the long black razor strop from its hook. The thick, flexible strop twisted in the air as the man slung it casually over one shoulder, and a soft thap sounded as the end touched his back. He opened a drawer and lifted out a straight razor, flipping it open with professional ease so the long blade glittered in the mirror. "W-what are you doing?" the terrified boy asked. "Shut UP!" Tony shouted, with a powerful backhanded blow across Joey's upturned buttocks. The boy gasped at the force, the sting, the menace in the man's voice. With the casual movement of a man who used the razor all day long, Tony pushed one corner of the razor into the top of the seam in the seat of Joey's jeans. He gave a quick downward sweep, thhhhtttt, and the seam split wide open from waistband to crotch. Reversing the blade, he snapped a short cut upward through the waistband -- and the back of the boy's jeans fell away on each side, revealing his backside covered by white jockey shorts.
The moment his jeans broke away from his buttocks -- the moment the cool air of the shop chilled his bottom through the sweat-damp undershorts -- Joey suddenly knew exactly why the barber had sliced his pants off, exactly what the razor strop slung across the man's shoulder was for, exactly what was going to happen to him. "No! Please! Please, you can't!" the horrified boy yelled, struggling helplessly against the tight knots. "I said shut UP!" the muscular man shouted, landing another backhanded slap hard across Joey's jockey-clad backside. "Ow!" the boy cried out involuntarily at the pain, far sharper than the earlier blow when the thick denim protected his sensitive buttocks. "Ha!" Tony half-laughed, half-snarled. "You got a lot ta learn if ya think that hurt!" Joey flinched in fear when he felt the cold steel of the razor touch his thigh and move under the edge of the leghole in his jockeys. Thhht! the blade sliced easily through the thin cotton, first one leg, then the other. The barber laid back the slit seat of the boy's undershorts as gently as folding the apron away from a customer after a haircut. Tony smiled to himself as he saw goosebumps rise on Joey's bottom when the cold air of the shop touched the boy's now- bared flesh. Tied helplessly to the chair, the boy's upturned buttocks were exposed from the small of his back to nearly the middle of his thighs. Speechless with fear, he waited forwhat would come next.
As Joey watched him in the mirror, the big Italian stepped back from the chair and grabbed the hooked end of the strop, pulling it off his shoulder. The supple leather-and-canvas strap undulated like a black snake as the man shook it out. He saw the man swing his arm back, and closed his eyes -- he couldn't watch! SWWIIISSSHTHWACK!!! The two-foot-long strop hissed through the air, then slapped with tremendous force across both of Joey's bared butt cheeks at once! "YEEEOOOWWW!" the boy yowled, blistering agony erupting in his bottom, a blaze of white stars exploding against his closed eyelids. SSWWIISSHHTHHWAACKK!!! Again the muscular barber slammed the strap with all the strength in his powerful arm across Joey's naked backside. "EEEEeeyyyOOWOOOO!!!" Joey screamed at the unimaginable pain radiating like a white-hot wave from the pulsing welt. His eyes had filled with tears at the first torturous stroke of the razor strop. Now the tears welled up uncontrollably and poured down his face. It was impossible! Nothing could hurt this much!
SSSWWWIIISSHHHTTHHWACKK!!! "OOOWWWOOOEEEEYYAAAHH!" the boy screamed again as another vicious whack of the strop crashed against his bared behind, leaving a three-inch-wide stripe of agony across the thick lower part of his buttocks. Agony! That was too mild a word for it! Only three strokes of the strop -- yet every one of the billions of exquisitely sensitive nerve endings in Joey's bare bottom was sending out a five-alarm inferno, as searing and inescapably powerful as the blast wave of an atomic bomb!
SSSSSSSWWWWIIISSSHHHHCARRAAAAACCKKKK!!!!! "YAAAAOOOWWWOOOEEEEEEOOOOO!!" the scream tore from the boy's throat.
Tony's muscular arm had sent the strop whistling through the air to slam again almost diagonally across Joey's scarlet buttocks, and the corner of the tip had curled around the curve of the boy's butt cheek to sting the ultra-sensitive skin between his legs like a white-hot hornet! "PLEASE PLEASE PLEEEEEEAassSE!" the boy begged, screaming and sobbing uncontrollably at the same time. He struggled, kicked, twisted from side to side desperately, but there was no escape from the punishing bite as the big barber wielded his razor strop. SSSWWWWWIIIISSSHHHHTTTHHHWWWAAACCCKKK!!!
Sweat poured down Tony's nearly-nude body, matting the thick black hair on his chest and flat stomach. Oh, he had wanted this for a long time, yeah, especially this one, this one with his tough-man talk and his boy's face, his jeans tight across his firm ass as he swaggered around the gas station, his muscles still half-hidden by an eighteen-year-old's little bit of teenage baby fat. SSSSSWWWWIIISSSHHHTTHHWAAAACCKKKK!!! Tony's _c_o_c_k_ had begun hardening as he cut the boy's jeans and jockeys off. When he saw the first dark red welt swell up under the cut of the strop, his nine-inch meat snapped upright against his belly, the purple head shoving through the foreskin and pushing above the waistband of his boxer shorts. Joey screamed again as the massive barber branded another broad welt of fire across his writhing bare behind. Behind him, Tony could bear it no longer. As he raised the strop for the next stroke, he spit into his left palm, reached into his shorts, and wrapped a strong slippery fist around his aching _c_o_c_k_, sliding it up and down the hot pole. SSSWWWIIISSSSHHHTHHHWWAAACCKKK!
This time the strop blazed across the swells where Joey's butt rose from his legs, searing half its broad width across the boy's thighs. "OWWWWOOOHHHHEEEYYAAAHHHPLEASEPLEASEPLEEEEASE!!!" Joey shrieked through his sobs. There was nothing in the world but pain; he had no body except the mass of flaming roasted flesh that was his bottom, and there was no God but Tony the Barber, who alone could stop this hell.
The powerful man gripped his rigid _c_o_c_k_ tightly, working it furiously as he continued to slam the thick strop across Joey's now-purple buttocks. The heat grew, built, he felt it coming like an express train ---suddenly his _c_o_c_k_ exploded as waves of shuddering ecstasy swept through his crotch and all over his body. Semen gushed from the head of his _d_i_c_k_ with fire-hose force, spurt after spurt so hard that his groin ached. His shorts were soaked; thick white streams ran down his thighs and spattered his stomach. He threw down the strap.
Crying and moaning uncrontollably, the boy lay limp across the back of the barber chair. His bared bottom glowed deep red, with nearly three dozen swollen purple welts crisscrosing the once-white skin. Several of the welts were already beginning to turn black-and-blue at the edges, where the thick edge of the strap had bruised the tender flesh deeply. Joey's throat was raw with screaming. His eyes were swollen with tears. And from the moment he heard the strop hit the floor, all that ran through his mind was thankgodit'soverthankgodit'soverthankgodit'sover.
Panting and dripping with sweat and his own manjuice, the big barber moved forward, took up the razor, and slashed the boy's bonds. Joey slipped backward off the chair, falling to the floor, sobbing hoplessly like an animal abused beyond endurance. Tony picked up the pistol, shoved the cold black barrel into the waistband of his soaked boxers.
"I'm not gonna bother to tell ya ta never forget it," the burly barber said.
"I know you won't." He turned and began climbing the stairs to his apartment. "Turn off the lights and lock th' door when you leave, kid. And don't bother tellin' anybody what happened to ya here tonite, if ya wanna be able ta tell anybody anything evey again." He closed the door.