I knew shoplifting was wrong, yeah, I knew that. The very first time I did it I got caught, and that was when I was fifteen. That time it was at a Wallmart and it cost me fifty hours of community service and I got grounded for two weeks. I didn't do it again until my senior year, and when I did then I got away with it. It seemed easy, and I thought I was careful and I didn't do it very often after that. Still, eventually it caught up with me again, this time just after graduation when Billy Severt and I got caught lifting some cigarettes from a Fastmart. God my parents had been pissed! But those mistakes were both years ago, ancient history really, and now that I was out of college and 22 years old, I don't even know why I did it again. After the time with Billy I just never did it after that, until I saw the Oakley sunglasses and on a whim just went for them.
I still don't know why I did it. I wasnt a thief, or at least, I didn't see myself as one. Hell, I was out of money and it was true that I was in debt up to my ears, thanks to Mastercard and a college loan I'd be paying on forever. Still, I didn't really need the sunglasses, and yet, sure as _s_h_i_t_, I had taken them, and the one certainty now was that I had been caught red handed by the security guard that grabbed me as I walked out of the store.
Leave it to California. Yeah...._s_h_i_t_. _d_a_m_n_...I know I screwed up, big time, but as I remember the tale it really started when I was staring at my lawyer as he went over the options and I felt my heart pounding in my chest. Thump...thump...thump. Like a jackhammer. It was a whole different deal this time, now that I wasn't a teenager, and right away I knew I was in very serious trouble. Worse, I knew that if my parents found out I'd never be able to face them, and my employer would _s_h_i_t_can me for sure for sure for sure. He was always saying nothing was worse than an employee that stole, and even though I wasnt stealing his _s_h_i_t_ if he saw my name in the paper I was done. Yeah, I was screwed, and so I stared and felt my heart pound and I listened.
"Michael, the way I see it you don't have a lot of options here. I don't see this going to trial. For one thing, it would be a waste of money, and frankly, if you went to trial you would lose. With the video tape they have about all you can do is to suck it up and accept it, although we can perhaps ask for leniency. You're certainly looking at a fine, and a significant amount of community service. I'll tell you though that I talked with the DA's office and he wants to make an example of you. He's trying for a short incarceration period, and with your prior record it doesn't help and he may well get it. I don't think it would go over thirty days, and it would probably all be done in the county jail. Now, I think the best we can hope for here is to try and keep you out of jail, but he's determined and so I'm being honest when I tell you it may come down to that. No matter what you do, I don't think the judge will be very sympathetic, knowing Roberts and the way he generally rules on theft cases."
I stared at him, my lip quivering. I said "Ah....I...I thought that my other stuff was when I was a kid, and it was sealed now that I'm over eighteen. I mean, when I did it before I was a kid. I was just a teenager back then. This is my first real time, isn't it?"
He looked at me and said: "Well, you did the last one of your sticky fingers episodes when you were eighteen, and even the earlier history isn't closed to the court. You've been doing this for a long time, and the judge will know it. Now, it is true that technically the juvenile record is sealed, but the court knows about it, and the judge can take it into account when he considers his sentence. He just can't use it to determine guilt. What this means is that it isn't good for you. When you were eighteen, you were an adult in the eyes of the law. I'm afraid he's gonna hammer you."
My heart pounded harder. I looked at him, feeling the tears, and then I said: "Please help me....PLEASE! I....I don't know what I'll do if my name hits the papers, and if I go to jail my dad will disown me. Either way I'll probably lose my job. I just graduated from college a few months ago, and if I lose this job I don't know what I'll do. Please! PLEASE MAN....HELP ME!"
The lawyer looked at me, and then he stared. Then he paused, and he said "I...I don't know what to say to you. You took the glasses, and there are going to be consequences for doing so. You should have considered them before you took the shades."
I stared.
What could I say? My lip was quivering, and my heart pounded thump-thump-thump.
My eyes teared up, and I felt so _d_a_m_n_ sad. I started to beg him, my lip quivering, but then I stopped and grew quiet. What could I really say? He was looking at me, and his expression changed, as if an idea had come to him. Then he said, slowly, and in a different, quieter tone, "Uh....do you remember the CP Statute, as it was called? You know.....it never was passed into law, but it came close, and it sure did generate a lot of discussion."
I shook my head. I vaguely remembered some discussion about some hair-brained idea to spank high school teenagers who got in trouble, but I also remembered nothing had happened other than the talk show radio hosts had had a hay day over it.
Then he said "Well...you probably heard about it last year. It made the papers, and created quite a discussion. The idea was instead of sending teenagers through the court system for petty crimes, instead the state would send them to someone who was approved by the state to spank their bottom and punish them for their misdeeds, avoiding the courts and the record altogether but still making sure they were punished for their misdeeds. Of course, it didn't go anywhere and the entire idea was thrown out pretty quickly."
I looked at him, and said "Yeah....I do remember that. What has that got to do with anything?"
He paused. Then he said: "Well....I don't know. But....but perhaps it might offer you an alternative. I'm not sure, and its a long shot at best really. It's just an idea."
Then, he shook his head, and I could see that he had changed his mind. Then he said "Never mind....I don't see much good coming your way on this. But I can try and talk with the prosecutor and build up your character, and perhaps avoid his wrath if you own up to it, apologize for your mistake, and agree to a large community service sentence. But I won't be able to keep your name out of the paper and you're gonna have a record."
I was shaking. I started to beg then: "OH...GODDDDDD. This is _s_h_i_t_. _s_h_i_t_. I feel so _f_u_c_k_ing stupid. Can't you do SOMETHING--Pleaseeeeeeeeeee?"
He looked at me. Stared. Then, slowly, he said: "Well....I don't know. I know Judge Roberts, and I know the DA. Ahhh......I.....I don't know. Its a crazy idea really, but they liked the CP statute, and were behind it 100% even. Perhaps. Yeah....perhaps. There is a chance, a chance only really, that they might accept you going to someone who would punish you, and if they knew, and I mean KNEW, that you were really punished, then they might agree to drop all the charges and purge your record. It's a long shot, but it might work, and I could talk to them about it if that's what you want."
I had no idea what he was talking about. "What are you saying? That the judge would sentence me to....to CORPORAL PUNISHMENT?"
He looked at me and half grinned. Then he said: "No...I'm not saying that. The judge couldn't do that, even if he wanted to. What I'm saying is that since the judge liked the proposed law though, perhaps, and its a long shot at best, but perhaps, if YOU asked for it, I mean VOLUNTEERED for it, then he might let you submit to some type of punishment that would keep this out of the courts altogether. I know the DA, and he'd probably go for it. The judge I'm less certain about, but if the DA didn't prosecute the case then you'd be off free and clear. Of course, you would have to submit to some kind of punishment that would meet the DA's approval."
I looked at him, perhaps with hope, when I should have looked at him with trepidation. Finally I said: "That sounds GREAT! I mean, if it gets me out of the jail and the record, that would be perfect! What kind of punishment do you think it would be?"
He said: "Well...I...I don't know. But there are some men in the local area that are into that kind of scene.....most are into the leather seen and the like, but there are a quite a few that know what they are doing, and most of those are well known in the right circles. I'd imagine you'd have to go see one of them, and probably end up with a thrashed bottom if nothing else. Yeah, I'm really guessing here, but I'd imagine the DA would want to know that you had been given some type of spanking if it was going to satisfy him that you had learned a lesson. If you want, I can try to see what he would agree to."
Of course, I had agreed then, instantly, because a little spanking sure seemed a hell of a lot better than the alternative. Two weeks later, I was there, actually reporting to some stranger to be punished like a bad little boy. Only I was twenty-two for God's sake, and so this wasn't a game and I wasn't thrilled about it. I looked down at the piece of paper, the one that wasn't signed by anyone but nevertheless told me exactly what I had to do. _s_h_i_t_.
"You, Michael R. Oliver, are to report on Friday evening, January 7th, to the address located on the enclosed map and to a man you will know as "RC". You will refer to him as "RC" or "Sir" and you will submit to him for punishment because of your crime of SHOPLIFTING. This punishment is VOLUNTARY, and you will have to ask for it. However, once started, the punishment protocol will be carried out through completion, and you will not be released until such time as RC determines that you have been thoroughly punished and have been taught a lesson that you will not likely forget. The exact nature of the prescribed punishment will be up to RC to determine, and will be of sufficient severity to make sure you learn a lesson and are adequately punished for your misbehavior. Once that has been done, RC will sign the bottom of this form. Return the signed for to your attorney, and at that point you will be released and all records associated with this arrest will be purged from your record."
At the bottom of the form was a signature block, and as I read the short little statement above the signature line it the chill ran right up my spine.
"I, RC, have administered a through corporal punishment session to a Mr. Michael R. Oliver, at his request and in lieu of other state mandated punishment, and can attest to the fact that he has been thoroughly disciplined for his misbehavior. He was punished in the following manner:________________________________________________."
And then there was a place for someone to sign below the statement.
_s_h_i_t_. _s_h_i_t_!!!
So, here I was, standing in front of his fence, in a nice little neighborhood of all places. I had no idea who he really was, none at all, and his house was plain enough that nothing caught my eye. I stared at the paper, and realized I didn't have a lot of choice. Submit to whatever the hell this was going to be, or take the record, do the community service, and get fired. I didn't see it really as much of a choice at all. I rang the doorbell.
It turned out that RC was an older gentleman, a nice guy really, as far as his personality goes. He was beaming when he saw me, all smiles really, and he invited me into his kitchen and gave me a glass of iced tea. As I sat there trying to relax a little, he kept staring at me, and finally he said "Well....Michael....so you are here because you like to shoplift. Do you realize that if you submit to this I'm going to make it very unpleasant for you?"
I nodded. Then I said: "Yeah....that's what my lawyer told me. I just want to get it all behind me. He said you'd probably spank my butt, and I figure that getting spanked is probably something I deserve. Still, it seems strange to be 22 and coming to you for a spanking."
He grinned. And then he said "First, you will call me SIR. That's very important, so don't forget it. As for the spanking....well, what exactly I do to you is up to ME. And it wouldn't be as exciting if I just told you what would happen. Part of the thrill of corporal punishment is not knowing what's going to happen. But understand this. I've talked with the DA, and he wants you thoroughly punished. THROUGHLY. He means it, and he made that clear. And I mean it too.
This is no play spanking session you are coming to me for, and so if you submit to me, you're going to FEEL it son....you're going to FEEL it in your ass and anywhere else I want you to FEEL it. You'll be mine. MINE. For the rest of tonight, and all day Saturday too. I have no intention of letting you go before Saturday evening, once you volunteer and we get started. If you submit to me, then you won't be going home until I decide you have learned your lesson, and that's not going to be until Saturday night. I'm not going to sugarcoat this boy. You will be sore and sorry and begging me like a little boy by the time I'm done with you. It's not going to be fun. That's something else you can count on."
Then he grinned, and said: "So...now...it is time to decide. Stay, or leave. It's up to you."
I swallowed. God. GOD! I was shaking, and yet, what-the-_f_u_c_k_? I mean, what could I really do????? If I left then the entire weight of the judicial system was going to come down on me like a ton of bricks, and I'd likely even do some jail time. But if I stayed....oh _s_h_i_t_! I really didnt see it as a choice, and so I finally said: "I....I'll stay. Just be careful, and don't go crazy."
He grinned. Then he said: "Oh...don't worry. I won't go crazy....but I WILL punish you. Well...if you are asking for the punishment, then volunteer, and sign the form. Once you've signed the form requesting me to do this, then you can head downstairs. We might as well get started."
I read the paragraph one more time, the one above the signature line that was waiting for me.
"I, Michael Oliver, do hereby request to be physically punished for my crime of SHOPLIFTING, in lieu of other actions that otherwise might occur. I've been a very bad boy, and I know I need to be taught a lesson. I realize that my punishment may consist of physical punishment to my body, and I willfully and respectfully submit to such punishment in hopes that I may learn to change my future behavior."
_f_u_c_k_. Still....what could I do?
I signed.
He grinned then, a big fat wide grin, and then, taking the paper with my signature on it, he motioned for me to go down the stairs. As I did, I entered into a basement that totally took me by surprise, and I was shocked. The entire room looked like a dungeon, and there were paddles and straps and handcuffs along a pegged wall. There was a mirror on one wall, and some chains hanging from an overhead beam. In one corner was a bed of sorts, although there were straps on the corners and it didn't look like a place you would choose to sleep. He motioned for me to a table, and that's when he spoke to me.
"Get out of your clothes. I'm going to start by giving you a spanking, for the bad little boy that you are, and when I spank a misbehaving young man I never do it with his pants on. Your pants didn't do anything wrong, so I'm not about to spank them. Strip, and then lay over that spanking bench there, as that's where I'll be starting your lesson."
I was shaking. But I did as he said, and kicked off my shoes and then slid off my jeans. I took off my dress shirt, but wasn't sure about the t-shirt....and I also left my underwear on. He didn't say anything. I was shaking, and then I started to ask, but changed my mind. I went and laid down on this bench of sorts, that was obviously made to hold someone with their bottom up in the air. You had to climb up onto it, so that you were straddling it in a way, your legs spread wide. There were some padded cuffs and to reach them you had to lean forward, and with the way the thing was made it required me to perch my ass up in the air, unless I crouched over.
He came up to me then and started securing me down, into position, wrapping some cuffs around each wrist, and then my ankles, and then my knees. When I was finally in position, I was bent over, with my ass sticking up and my legs spread. That's when he reached down and grabbed my underwear, and started to rip it off of me.
"HEYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY..... Whoa....you...you don't have to do THAT!" I yelled!
Then he said: "I told you to get out of your clothes." Then grabbing my undershirt, he started to rip it off to, and as he did he said "If you don't know how to respect authority, no wonder you like to steal. Well....when I say strip, I mean STRIP."
He had me naked in less than thirty seconds. I was starting to protest, when he came up to me and reached up between my legs, and then without any warning at all he cupped my sack of balls and squeezed them in his fist. I arched my head, and my mouth went open, and then I stopped talking and stared. Never in my life had another man held my balls, and the feeling of him doing so scared me to my soul. Suddenly I was more scared than I had ever been in my life.
As I grew quiet and my eyes went wide, he fondled my balls and then he said "Now....you listen...and you listen well. You are mine now....MINE. I've got you by the balls.....literally."
As he said the last word, he squeezed, and I grunted with the feeling and the fear. OH GOD HE OWNED ME!
I was so _f_u_c_k_ing scared then. As I looked over my shoulder, he picked up a rather small, innocent looking paddle, something about the size of his hand really and with a very small handle on it. I looked at it, and he moved it to my bottom, resting it there. Then, slowly, he said: "I like this little paddle. It's made of cherry wood, and it is hard and it means business. I may not look that big, but it's sort of like a paintbrush, and I love using it to paint a boy's bottom until its bright red. Shoplifting is a very serious crime.....and someone as old as you should know BETTER."
As he said the last word he smacked that paddle against my right cheek, hard, and then he did it again, and then again and again and again.
POP.....POP.....POP
He started hitting my rear then, one blow after another and just on and on and on. I felt it, and it started to sting, and he just kept popping my bottom with that little board. I felt the heat there, and I started to squirm, and that's when I really realized that I was totally helpless. Suddenly I DIDN'T WANT TO BE THERE!
I changed my mind in that instant, when that little paddle was working over my right cheek, just popping it again and again. He was painting my bottom with that little paddle, just like he said he was going to do. He was smacking me continuously, concentrating on it as he was doing so. My balls were swinging as my bottom took his hits, and as the heat began to really intensify I started yelling.
"STOP!!!! STOP FOR GOD'S SAKE! _s_h_i_t_...STOP IT NOW! FORGET THIS......I'VE CHANGED MY MIND!" I yelled.
And he stopped.
And then he started to rub that little paddle up and down my crack, along the folds there. He pulled my cheeks apart then with his other hand, exposing my crack and my hole and EVERYTHING to his view. And that's when he said: "Michael, you need to stop your senseless yelling right now. RIGHT NOW. You are mine boy....all mine. You agreed to this, asked for it really, and you certainly deserve it. You don't really think that now that it is starting that you are going to quit do you? You need to understand, this is not going to be over until it is over, and we haven't even started. You are going to spend all night with me, all night long, feeling me as I work your ass and your balls and your dick and your HOLE."
As he said HOLE he pushed his finger into my hole...deep, way inside and then suddenly I felt him pressing right into my prostate gland. Only one other person in my life had ever done that before, and he was a medical doctor and had done that during the required company physical, just a year before. But this was totally different and he kept it there, deep, working it in and out of my hole and I shuddered from the feeling. I had my head strained back then, looking at him, and he looked at me and then he said "I think you are beginning to understand. You are MINE. And if I want to _f_u_c_k_ your hole, then I'm going to _f_u_c_k_ it. Yeah...I can _f_u_c_k_ it with my finger, or with anything else I want."
As he was talking he was working his finger in and out of my hole, working it over my prostate and massaging me deep inside. God I got hard. Dripping hard. I was gasping, and I knew if he kept it up then I would ejaculate.
"Please.........please don't!" I begged.
He laughed. And then he said: "I plan to punish you in many ways."
Then he jerked his finger out of my hole, and virtually the same instant he smacked that hard little paddle right into my bottom with a renewed vigor.
POP....POP.....POP.....POP
"Oh...OH _s_h_i_t_!" I yelled again, as he popped that paddle into me again like a jackhammer. He was hitting me harder this time, and faster, and after that he just worked that wooden paddle up and down my bottom, up and down, painting it, painting by fanny bright red like I was a bad little school boy.
God I fought then. It stung like _s_h_i_t_, and even though the individual hits weren't that great, they just kept coming, one after the other, and there was nothing I could do but feel the assault and squirm against the restraints that held me spread open and vulnerable.
POP....POP.....POP.....POP
POP....POP.....POP.....POP
_s_h_i_t_ IT BURNED! He pulled my butt cheeks apart then, and then started working that hard little paddle down into my crack, along the long edge of it and into it again and again and again.
"YEOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!" I squirmed.
Oh GOD....OH GOD!
I don't know how long it went on, but certainly over an hour and maybe even longer. He just worked that little hardwood paddle all over my bottom, covering it from one end to the other, until it was bright red and glowing. It felt so _f_u_c_k_ing hot, burning really, and no matter how hard I bucked my hips or pulled against his restraints there was nothing I could do but feel that thing as it cooked my ass.
Finally, as I whimpered and the tears came to my face, he stopped, and then he rubbed his hand over my bottom, feeling it, feeling the heat coming off of it. He then got up and picked up this leather harness, and came back to me and buckled it around my neck. It hung down about half way to my ass, a strap four inches wide. He carefully unsnapped my right wrist, and then pulled it behind my back, and I felt him buckle it into the bottom of the strap that was attached to my neck. Once my right wrist was secured, he did the same to my left, strapping my wrists behind my back. The were held high up my back by the harness. I could pull them upward, toward my neck, but I couldn't pull them downward past the small of my back. After that, he was rubbing my bottom...feeling it with his hands...and no matter how hard I tried I couldn't reach him or stop him from what he was doing. There was no way my hands could reach my bottom! It was so frustrating!
He then unstrapped my ankles, and helped me up, and he walked me across the room then to this straight chair, a wooden chair that was just sitting there all by itself, almost as if it was waiting for him, and for me. He set down on it, and then he patted his knee, and said "Come here Michael, and lay yourself over my knee. Let's get that misbehaving bottom up in the air, high, so we can deal with your poor judgment and teach you a lesson."
My lip was quivering. I shook my head, and stared at him, sitting there, waiting to spank me with his hand like a bad little boy. My entire bottom was already glowing red, from the paddle, and the idea of just laying down over his knee to get more of the same just wasn't something I could even visualize doing. He stared at me, and then he said "I'm not going to wait all day here Michael. You stole the glasses, and you asked to get spanked instead of going to jail. So, come now, come to me for your spanking. If you don't, then I'm going to put you back on the bench, and we can warm up that bottom of yours with a bigger paddle and then give you another opportunity to put yourself over my knee.
OH GOD! He glanced to the spanking bench where I had just been tied, and I followed his gaze, and of course above it were all kinds of paddles, and in all sizes, and I realized that if he did that I'd come apart totally inside. I DIDN'T HAVE A CHOICE! Slowly I came to him then, begging, begging him like a little boy begs his father. I felt so humiliated, standing there, naked as the day I was born, my _c_o_c_k_ jutting out and poking the air and he motioning me with his finger to come to him for an over-the-knee spanking.
I came to him. What choice did I really have? When I had walked up to his knee he guided me over it, over his knee so I was staring at the ground, at his feet, my weight over his knee and my dick under him. My ass was jutting upward then, from his knee, and he dropped his hand to it and I felt his finger once again find my hole. He slid it inside of me then, deep, back down into by bowels until he was touching my prostate and there he let it linger. As I felt that and my eyes went wide, I felt his other hand wrap around my dick, holding it in his hand, and as I felt that he slowly, very slowly, began to pump my _c_o_c_k_ as he worked my prostate with his finger.
I gasped.....my mouth open in total surprise, feeing another man masturbating me and there nothing in the world I could do about it. As he was doing that, he started to talk to me again.
"You know Michael, a bad boy like you really needs to learn to control himself. You have this urge you see, this URGE to steal, and much like you feel the urge right now to shoot your wad, you know that you shouldn't and you know you need to control yourself. But you are like a man out of control, and so instead of controlling yourself, you are getting hard in my fist, really hard, and as I work that little nut in your bottom I can feel your entire body tensing. You want to cum, don't you?"
I gasped. God. It felt so _f_u_c_k_ing good. If he kept it up there wasnt a doubt in the world that I'd ejaculate. I gasped. Then I said "Oh...oh GOD. Yes...YES....I'm....I'm going to CUM!"
He kept at it, but as he worked my pole and fingered my hole he said "I think you need to hold off for a while. If you don't learn to control your urges, then your bottom is going to be a lot redder than it is right now."
In spite of what he was telling me the feeling built and I lost control of it. A minute later I arched my back, staring at the wall, and the paddles and the whips and the cuffs, and then my dick started pulsating in his fist and after that I grunted as I shot my wad.
"ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" I grunted....the jism flying out of my _c_o_c_k_ in ropes of semen, shot after shot after shot. He milked me continuously, until I was empty, and still he milked me like I was a cow. Stroke stroke stroke.....working the tip of my dick with his thumb, and as it grew super sensitive I screamed from the feeling!
OH GOD IT WAS WAY TOO MUCH!
"STOP! OH...OHHHH...OHH....STOP! OH PLEASE...STOPPPPPPPPPPP!" I screamed, as I bucked my hips and struggled to get my dick out of his hand. My toes curled inward, and I gasped from the intensity of the feeling. Still he milked me, working the sensitive end of my pole, working it with his thumb until I screamed from the shock of it. Finally...FINALLY he stopped....and then I felt his hand rest on my ass.
"You know Michael, you don't seem to be able to control yourself well. No...you don't have much control at all I don't think. I told you not to cum, and you didn't listen to me and just shot your wad anyway. You are just a spoiled little boy, a bad little boy, and you just take what you want when you want and do what you feel even if you shouldn't. Yes, you are a bad boy, a very bad boy, and I think perhaps you need to have another reminder just how bad you have been."
SLAP.....SLAP.....SLAP.....SLAP.....SLAP.....SLAP.....SLAP
"YEOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!" I yelled!!!!!
My ass hurt a thousand times worse all of a sudden, and his hand was powerful and it knew what it was doing. After my orgasm the nerves in my ass were a hundred times more sensitive than they had been before, and with my ass already red and hurting when he started spanking my bottom it was intense and I bucked my hips and jerked over his knee as I tried to dodge the feeling.
He could have cared less what I did. He was raining his hand down on my ass with smack after smack, hard, just slapping my bottom and covering it completely with the flat of his hand. He worked it hard, stopping after a dozen to squeeze the cheeks of my ass and pull on them, before he would do it again. He just slapped my ass hard, and continuously, with no reprieve. I felt so ashamed! Just so _d_a_m_n_ ashamed! I stared at the floor at his feet, and looked at my white lines of cream that I had ejaculated like some animal. _s_h_i_t_ IT WAS SO HUMILATING! I tried to reach back, to reach down and cover my bottom, but the cuffed hands couldn't get that far, and so my unprotected rear just burned, hot and red and oh-so-painful! THERE WAS NOTHING I COULD DO! It went on and on and on, and I don't know how long it went but I do know that I soon was squirming and begging and crying like a little boy. Yeah, I cried like a kid then, and I was so _d_a_m_n_ sorry about what I had done and what I was having done to me. God it was embarrassing.
Finally.....FINALLY he stopped. And then he just rubbed my well spanked rear, and that's when he said "Well...I think we are perhaps getting somewhere. I think we are. Still, I'm not sure you are getting the message, and if you are going to act like a boy perhaps we should make you look like one.
With that, he stood me up, still with my hands cuffed behind my back, strapped to my neck and held up helplessly. He walked me over to the side of the room, until I was against the wall, and he slowly turned me around until I was facing him, face to face, his lips just inches from my own. I could smell his breath. He clipped a short chain that was attached to the wall to the back of the harness that was strapped around my neck, holding me against the wall. Then he kicked my legs apart, so that I was spread wide, and then he bent down and strapped them to two cuffs along the base of the wall that were positioned to hold them spread that way. I was standing there then, my legs spread, and my red bottom up against the wall. My dick head was red, where he had rubbed it almost raw, and my pole was hanging down, spent, a line of clear drool swinging off the tip. I was totally helpless, and I was his.
He picked up my _c_o_c_k_, weighing it in the palm of his hand, and looked at it very closely. He spread my slime over the end of my dick, and worked it in until my pole started to thicken some. He also held my balls with his other hand, and fondled them, and I stared at him as he was doing so and I was so _d_a_m_n_ scared! He seemed to be in no hurry, but still as he held my dick and felt my nuts my pole began to stiffen, although having just ejaculated a few minutes before it wasnt rock hard like it normally gets. He didn't seem to care.
Finally, he went over to this table and picked up a set of battery operated hair clippers, and then he just walked back to me and held them up to my face. And then he said "You act like a little boy Michael. A little boy. And little boy's don't have pubic hair." As he said that he punched the "ON" switch and the clippers came alive, and as they came on with a buzz I started to beg him. It didn't matter, and he ignored me, and instead he just guided the clippers down to the nest above my _c_o_c_k_ and there he began to run them through it, in stroke after stroke. Within a few minutes he had taken it off, and as I looked down it was so embarrassing I could hardly believe it.
Red faced, I was totally humiliated. He clicked off the clippers, and took them back to the table, and then he returned with a can of shaving cream and a Mach 3 razor. I stared at it, the three blades on it, and then he squirted a bit of cream over my pole and then over my balls. Finally, he bent down, so he was eye level with my genitals, and there he started shaving me, shaving my groin until I didn't have a single hair left. God I was smooth! The weird part is that I got so _f_u_c_k_ing hard as he shaved me bald, and my nuts felt funny and I looked like a ten year old! He was smiling as he shaved me, and as I watched him take my hair it occurred to me that I had no idea what I would say to my girlfriend. There was no way I could ever explain this!
Finally, he was done. The weird part was that as I was being shaved my prick grew rock hard all over again, and so by the time my groin was bald my _c_o_c_k_ jutted up, stiff and eager once again, like it had a mind of its own. He slapped it, hard, just smacked it with his hand and that's when he said "Michael....I told you, that you need to learn to control your urges. I meant what I said, so I suggest you take control of yourself and keep your dick hanging down where it belongs. You are used to doing what you want, when you want, and that needs to change. Shoplifting is an impulse crime, and right now you need to learn to control your impulses. Do you understand me?"
I started to protest....I mean, I wasnt in control of my dick, not really, but before I could he stopped me when he grabbed my balls. He squeezed, and said "DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?"
It wasn't the time to argue. Instead, I nodded...and he squeezed harder. Then I said "Yes....YES!!!!" I screamed. "I UNDERSTAND!" I yelled.
But he squeezed harder still, and then he said "YOU UNDERSTAND.......WHAT?"
"I...I UNDERSTAND SIR!!!!!!" I almost yelled, and that made him grin.
He grinned from ear to ear, and then he just dropped my balls, and I gasped when he let them go.
He put away the razor then, and cleaned off the cream with a damp cloth. Then he came back to me with this small little nylon whip, about a foot long, and as he stared at me, eye to eye, he said "You have one randy dick. Yes you do boy, you have one randy dick."
I was staring at the whip in his hand. It had hundreds of thin, rubbery strands, and as I stared at it and listened to his every word I was scared _s_h_i_t_less.
Then he said: "Ahhhh, I see you like the little whip. Well, this is a _c_o_c_k_ flogger....and it is made just for teaching randy _c_o_c_k_s like yours a lesson. When a boy has been bad, very bad, and can't seem to control himself, this little baby can teach him a lesson that he otherwise might never learn. One way or the other you are going to learn to control your urges."
"YEOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!" I screamed, as he slapped that nylon whip in a fast, upper cut, catching me totally by surprise and hitting my dick so hard that it slapped against my belly. HE HAD WHIPPED MY DICK! Oh GOD...OH GOD! I was in total shock, and he laughed, and that's when he did it again...and then again.
"OH....OHHHHH.....OUCH!!!! YEOWWWWWWWWWW!" I screamed again!
He was literally flogging my dick! Oh _s_h_i_t_! He brought it down, right across the end of my pole, hard, and then up from underneath where he nailed it again. OH GOD IT HURT! After that he was just flogging my pole, with a hit from the top and a hit from the bottom, slapping that little whip all over my rod, working it hard. My dick started to turn red, really red, and I bucked and squirmed and struggled. But there was nothing I could do!
I don't know how long he kept it going, but it was a long time and my dick grew harder in spite of feeling like it was on fire. Finally, he stopped, and then I saw him walk over to the table and come back to me, without the whip. Instead, in the palm of his hand was a pile of clear cream, and as I looked at it I had a terrible premonition. That's when he said "You are one bad boy Michael. One very bad boy. Perhaps if we can get this prick under control, you will also get your shoplifting under control. What do you think about that?"
As he asked the question he grabbed my rod, wrapping his fist around it and spreading the fist full of cream all along my shaft. I was gasping as he did that, and then I nodded, and said "I.......I won't shoplift ever again. I swear! I SWEAR! Please....please SIR....I've learned my lesson!!!"
As I said that I started to feel a burn, and my well-strapped _c_o_c_k_ started to get hot...really hot in his hand. I stared, and started to struggle, and that's when he said "Well....how's the Ben Gay feel boy? I hope it's warming things up. They say the way to a man's heart is through his dick, and I am going to get to you one way or the other."
"OH...OH _s_h_i_t_TTTTTTTTTTTTT!" I screamed. GOD IT BURNED. He was working that cream up and down my pole, up and down, faster and faster as the heat climbed exponentially. OH _s_h_i_t_. OH GOD. OH _f_u_c_k_!
My dick was frying! I never felt anything like that ....ever....and still as the heat built my pole stayed stiff, and he jacked it up and down as he worked his slick fist over my rod. I was staring at his fist, and the slick gob of sports cream that was burning my _c_o_c_k_, and as I stared I got the feeling and then I just mentally lost all my composure. I was crying like a boy after that....like a ten year old boy as I ejaculated for the second time in his hand. I grunted as I came, my burning _c_o_c_k_ shooting out another wad as he watched me doing it, milking me like an animal and I powerless to stop him.
My _c_o_c_k_ was on fire, and he laughed as I shot my hot wad and he worked the sports cream up and down my pole. It was the most horrible feeling I had ever had, and after getting my pole flogged the sports cream just burned into my soul. It went on and on, and yet I came in buckets, shooting out my cream in spite of the burn. He was holding his other hand in front of my dick, catching the cream as I shot my wad. I squirted out my jism into his palm, jetting it out without any control. I felt so _d_a_m_n_ humiliated.
When I was done he lifted his palm to my face, and I could see this big pile of goo sitting there, in his palm, the essence of my manhood thick and white in his hand. Then he said "Nice wad Michael. Too bad you haven't learned any restraint yet. I tell you what. If you insist on shooting it, I insist that you clean up your own messes. I don't want another load on my floor. So bad boy....it's time to lick it up.....NOW."
I don't know why, but it didn't seem the moment to argue. So I did...I licked my own spunk from the palm of his hand, eating my jism and as I did I felt cheap; like a whore. I felt so _f_u_c_k_ing low at that point, just so _d_a_m_n_ low, and my _c_o_c_k_ hurt and my ass hurt and still I ate my cream and cried. It was so _d_a_m_n_ disgusting, and I want to puke as I swallowed my spunk. Still, I swallowed it all.
After I had he then unsnapped me from the wall, and then guided me across the room, to a wooden couch like frame, that was built in such a way that you had to climb up on it and lay on your stomach. It was then that I saw the camera.
I started to protest, and then he stopped me as he pushed his lips to my ear and said: "Listen....I suggest you forget about the _f_u_c_k_ing camera. I like it, and right now you are MINE. There are people that need to know that you are well punished, and the camera will insure they are not disappointed."
Then, he pushed his tongue in to my ear, and I shuddered and the fear shot through me. He pushed me down, over the device, and as I fell onto it, face down, he strapped me down with ankle restraints. Then, he locked me into position with a piece of wood, that had a cutout for my neck. He locked it down there, holding me stretched out, with my two hands still cuffed behind my back, just out of reach of my ass. I was staring right at the camera, and it was catching my every expression.
My heart was pounding, and I started begging him, BEGGING him that I had learned my lesson and for him to please let me go. He just ignored it, and went about his tasks. Finally, with me securely held in place and with my red bottom forced into the air, jutting up really, he went to the corner of the room and came back with a bundle of what looked like long twigs or sticks. I was trying to figure them out, like a poor imitation of a witch's broom, when he said this to me: "Michael....you are such a bad boy. You act like a hoodlum, or a teenager who is out of control. In England, they used to know what to do with teenagers that didn't behave. Do you know what they would do to them?"
I shook my head, as I stared at the sticks that were bundled in his hand.
Then he laughed, and that's when he said: "Well...they birched them Michael.....they took down their pants and birched their bare bottoms until they were red and sore and had learned their lesson. And because of that, and because you can't seem to control yourself, perhaps I need to think of you as a misbehaving teenager more than a bad little boy, and introduce you to the birch and all that it can teach."
As he said that there was then tremendous shissssssssssssh sound.....followed by a burning sting that went straight across my entire buttocks, catching me totally by surprise and burning into my soul like there would be no tomorrow coming.
"YEOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW" I screamed.
I bucked my hips, and after that I was just screaming for mercy. GOD IT BURNED!
SWISHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
SPLATTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!
SWISHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
SPLATTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT
SWISHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
SPLATTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT
I was totally unprepared for anything that could burn like that. With each hit the twigs and pieces of the birch sticks were flying through the air, in a flurry, and it felt like a thousand little knives cutting into the skin and turning my ass into raw hamburger with every stroke. The air was filled with the pieces that seemed to break off with every blow. GOD I had never imagined anything could hurt that bad, and so I screamed and hollered and begged for him to stop. But he didnt stop, but just laughed, and kept birching me, slapping those sticks into my bare ass again and again and again.
SWISHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
SPLATTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT
SWISHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
SPLATTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT
He had rotated his arm so the blows were coming down vertically, and as they did they literally penetrated into the crack of my ass and I could feel every hit right across my hole. I screamed like a teenager in trouble, screaming for mercy. There was nothing but the birch and my ass and the birch and my ass, and as I felt the blows one after the other I was reduced to a sobbing, blubbering idiot, who was totally embarrassed beyond all measure.
It went on for a very long time. After a while he threw the birch twigs onto the floor, and I stared at them and the ends seemed bloody. I could feel my entire ass on fire, literally, and then when I had thought it must be done I saw him pick up another bundle, new and fresh and ready for my ass. He had literally torn the other bundle to shreds on my ass, and as I saw him coming back to me with another new bundle I screamed and begged him like a scared little boy. He just ignored me, and then, walking up behind me, he said "If you don't like being birched, you shouldn't have taken the glasses. You've misbehaved young man, and because of it the birch and your ass need to share an experience and I intend to make certain that it is unforgettable."
With that, he raised his arm high in the arm, and then brought the new bundle of birch twigs down will all of his might.
SWISHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
SPLATTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT
"_f_u_c_k_KKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!" I screamed.
SWISHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
SPLATTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT
"PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!" I begged.
SWISHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
SPLATTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT
"ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" I yelled.
SWISHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
SPLATTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT
I screamed and begged and fought with all of my strength, but still I just took it, blow after blow as he birched my ass until it was consumed by fire. I was so spent, and so humiliated. The snot was running out of my nose, and I was slobbering as I begged and yet he just grinned as he had his fun.
He finally threw down the second birch, and let me lay there for a while, my ass glowing red and burning like a nuclear fire. After a long while he came back and unstrapped me. I was thinking that perhaps I should run, but with my wrists still cuffed high and behind my back, there wasn't really anywhere to run and I knew I didn't even have a way to open his basement door. He guided me up, and as I started to beg him he grabbed my balls, and so I said nothing else and let him push me forward across the room.
He pushed me to the bed, and there he told me to sit on it, staring at him as he looped two ropes around my ankles. After they were secure he unsnapped something and my right wrist came free. It was still cuffed, but the cuff was free. He took my wrist and pulled it out to the corner of the bed, where he snapped it with a pre-positioned clip he had there just for that purpose. He then did the same thing to the other wrist, and as he did that one he just pushed me down until I was flat on the bed, on my back, my arms and legs spread eagled and totally helpless. Then he pulled all of the ropes tight, really tight. He propped my head up with some pillows so I could see my body and anything he might be doing to it. Then he came up to me and started to lick my nipples.
I squeezed my eyes shut, telling he to stop, that he had no right to do that and to leave my nipples alone. I have very sensitive nipples, and so the idea of ANYTHING touching them was enough to drive me insane. He laughed then, and paused, and that's when he said: "You don't want me to lick your tits Michael?"
I shook my head and said "NOOOOOOOOOO!"
Suddenly I saw this evil grin, and then he suddenly was holding a clothespin in his hand, holding it up in front of my face so I could see it well. Slowly, very slowly, he lowered the pin until it was next to my left nipple, and I was gasping then, begging him, my eyes wide with fear as I watched him. There was NO WAY my nipple could take that thing clipped to it!
As I watched he pinched my nipple with his fingers, and I yelped, and then he took the clothespin and let it snap off his fingers, so that it snapped onto my nipple and I screamed from the pain. I couldn't believe it! My hips went straight up then, pulling hard against my restraints. He took another clothespin, and snapped it closed over my other nipple, and after that I was screaming. Then, just to make a point I think, he grabbed the two clothespins in his fingers and squeezed them closed even tighter. GOD THAT REALLY HURT!
He relished it I think, and then, one clothespin after another, he started snapping them onto my genitals and I started screaming, in a total panic and unable to stop any of it. He snapped them on the skin under the head of my dick, and then he did another and another, snapping the pins down my dick's underside one next to the other. He snapped a pin under my balls, between my hole and my sac, and I screamed when he did that and bucked my hips from the pain. He started clipping clothespins all over my genitals, on my balls, and under them too. He clipped two right on the edges of my dick head, and when he did that I was screaming in total panic. I don't think anything could hurt that bad, and I bucked my hips and jerked and thrust hard against my bonds. But I was helpless, and so all I could really do was stare at the clothespins and feel the misery that were giving me.
He let a while pass, probably twenty minutes or so, and as I lay there feeling those clothespins they hurt like _s_h_i_t_. I had tears in my eyes. He finally came back to me then, and when I looked up at him he was grinning. The he said to me: "Well Michael....I can see you don't like the clothespins. Would you like me to take them off now?"
I nodded, and begged him, calling him "Sir" and begging him to please remove the clothespins. God I wanted them off so _d_a_m_n_ bad!
He finally just said "OK," and then he picked up my jeans, and slid my own belt out of them, so that I was looking at my brown belt that I had never given so much as a thought to before. He doubled it over then, and gripped it on each end. Then pushing his hands together the two pieces of leather split apart, forming an "O" shape. He slipped the belt over my _c_o_c_k_, with all the clothepins attached to it.
I started to shake my head, begging him, but before I could say anything he just jerked his hands apart, fast, so fast that the belt slapped closed in an instant, smacking my _c_o_c_k_ on the top and bottom simultaneously and knocking off a couple of the clothespins in the process.
"YEOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW" I screamed, and then I was bucking my hips and screaming like a madman. He thought that was so _d_a_m_n_ funny, and after that he just kept moving that belt around and snapping it into an area of my dick that was still clipped with a clothespin. Sometimes the clip came off, sometimes it didn't. If it didn't, he would snap the belt again, and then again and again, until finally the clip would pop off and the pain would shoot through me when it did.
For some of the clips he spun the belt through the air like a propeller, whipping it into a clothespin repeatedly. It would make a rap-rap-rap-rap sound as it hit the end of the wooden clip, popping my clipped flesh repeatedly with ever blow. God I bucked my hips and grunted from the shock of it! He laughed with every thrust I made. He would whip a pin again and again and again until it would FINALLY snap the clothespin and cause it to come off. Each time the pain where the clip had been hanging intensified a thousand fold when the blood rushed back into the tissue that had been held tight. Suddenly my two nipples were screaming as he used my belt to whip the clips. Then when they finally came off I thought I was going to die!
He whipped my _c_o_c_k_ that same way too, and under my ass. He whipped my belt right into my balls again and again until he finally got all of the clothespins off of them as well. It seemed to take forever, and with every snap of the leather I jerked and screamed. It just went on and on and on, until he finally had snapped off every single clothespin he had previously clipped over my genitals.
He was laughing the entire time. The weird thing was that my _c_o_c_k_ went rock hard as it was happening. When the last clip finally was knocked off, he looked at my dick and then he said "There you go again Michael. There you go, all stiff and hard once again, and all I'm doing is taking some little clothespins off of your nads. I think you like this, at least your dick does! Yeah, I think your dick likes it when you are getting punished."
"Still, we can't have that. You don't seem to learn very well, and I told you that you need to learn some control if you are ever going to get this over with."
With that statement he got up then and went to the table where some of his things were stored, and came back with this old looking metal contraption with a chord hanging from it. He plugged it into the socket then with an extension cord, and then he hooked it over his right hand. As he did that, he said: "Michael, if you show some restraint here, and get rid of the boner and apologize for your misdeeds, perhaps we can end all of this. But if you can't show restraint, or if you dare to shoot another load, then I don't know what I'll have to do. But if you shoot another wad then I'm not going to be playing around anymore. Do you understand me?"
I had no idea what was hooked on his hand. I started to beg him then, telling him I was trying and begging him to ignore my raging boner. I couldn't help it...I COULDN'T! Then he said "Well....listen here....if I were you I'd make _d_a_m_n_ sure you tell your _c_o_c_k_ not to cum. Yeah, just make sure you give it that message because I don't want to see any more of your messes."
As he said that he flipped this switch on the device on his hand, and his right hand just came to life, vibrating so that the fingers were blurred. It was a huge vibrator, really going to town, and looked like something someone might have in an old time barber shop. As I stared at it he picked up my dick and that's when my eyes went wide. He just grabbed my dick, and held it tight, and the vibrator shook my _c_o_c_k_ and the feelings were immediate and deep. I stared, and I knew right then I was going to cum again. I knew it, felt it building fast, and he just held my dick and squeezed it and let the machine do the work. I gasped, and started begging.
"Oh...OH...OHHHHHHHH. I...I CAN'T HELP IT! STOP...OR I'M GOING TO CUM! I AM GOING TO CUMMMMMMM! STOPPPPPPPPPP!!!!"
And then I did. I shot another load, this one up across my belly, squirting out my goo across my stomach there it formed into a small little puddle. His vibrating fist milked my balls dry, and when I was empty he just kept it going, milking me some more. God it felt so _f_u_c_k_ing intense! My toes curled inward, my head threw back, and then suddenly I was feeling the feeling all over again. I screamed, gasp really, and then right in a row I shot a second load of jism, adding it to my little puddle and he laughing as I did. I shot and shot and shot, two wads right in a row without my dick ever going soft. I would never have believed it had I not experienced it.
Finally, finished, he turned off the machine and laughed at me. He scooped up my goo with his finger, and then pushed it towards my mouth. I stared at it, and he said "Open wide Michael....OPEN WIDE. I'm beginning to get the impression you like eating your wad."
I was so humiliated, and yet I opened my mouth and he fed me the gob and I swallowed my load. What else could I do? He scooped up some more, and fed it to me. Then he did it again. Soon I had eaten my entire load, and after that I know the color of my face matched the color of my ass.
By this point every part of me was burning like a bit of fire, and I was coming unglued with the intensity of the feeling. Literally, it felt like EVERYTHIHNG was on fire, and I was gasping from the intensity as the feelings flooded my brain. As I watched, he picked up another spring clamp, only this one was made of metal and it had a rubber band tied to the end of it. As I watched he snapped that thing right on the very tip of my spent dick, and when he did that I bucked my hips like a madman, begging him to get it off! It was really pinching my dick! I think that was the most painful thing I had ever felt. He laughed, and then as I watched he took the rubber band and stretched it up, so that it hooked onto the collar that was around my neck. That in turn pulled my softening _c_o_c_k_ upward, which was hurting like nothing else on earth. The rubber band kept it pointed up in the air and at my neck, off of my balls and out of his way. It hurt so much I wanted to die. It was then I noticed the daylight through one of the windows, and it was then that I realized that it was Saturday and I had been there all night. GOD! GOD!!!!
He came back to me then with a wooden spoon in his hand, and he just climbed up on the bed with that spoon in his hand. He laid down and ran his hand over my thighs, and around the smooth groin where he had taken my hair. He tracked up and down my _c_o_c_k_, tickling the skin of it, and then he slowly tickled my bag of nuts that was sticking out and completely exposed. He used the spoon then, and traced it over my body, my chest and stomach. He used it to slap my sore nipples, which got a scream from me and a laugh from him. Then he started moving the spoon over my balls....gently letting it slide along my smooth balls. I could feel it, and it seemed that his wooden spoon was teasing them.
I was staring at him, begging him, and as I was doing that he leaned over to me and then he said: "I like wooden spoons. I like them a LOT. You see....you haven't really learned your lesson. Look at your _c_o_c_k_...it is soft right now, and behaving itself, but still its sticking up. Right now it's doing me a favor, because it's up and out of the way, and off of your balls so I can get to them. Still, look at your dick! In a way its like it is trying to become another boner, even if it's not right now. Your dick is still at least half hard though, and you just ejaculated twice in a row. I'm really ashamed of you!
I started to beg him...my lip quivering. My balls were totally exposed to him, and he kept moving that spoon over my bag and I was scared _s_h_i_t_less. Then he said: "You know Michael, I've treated you like a bad little boy, and from the way your dick has acted, you havent learned a thing. I've paddled your bad little bottom and you didn't get the message. I've spanked you too with my hand until my palm was numb, and you still can't control yourself. You have one very stubborn dick! Even after I've flogged the thing it still grew hard. It just doesnt seem to want to quit! Then, well, I tried treating you like a misbehaving teenager, and introduced you to the birch, but I don't think that had much of an effect."
"YES IT DID!" I screamed, my eyes open with disbelief. OH GOD MY ASS HURT!
"YES IT DID!" I screamed again, and then after that I was blubbering out how sorry I was, how I had learned my lesson and that I would never shoplift again as long as I lived. I begged, him, and I swore to God I'd be really good from now on.
Then he smiled, and that's when he said "Well....perhaps you will be good...perhaps. But as far as I can tell I don't really think you have learned your lesson, so I've decided that if I can't get through to you treating you like a bad child or a misbehaving teenager, then perhaps a better way is to recognize you are really a man, and perhaps I need to let your balls teach you a lesson. They say if you hold a man by his balls, then his heart and mind will follow. So perhaps I need to see if I can get through to you in that manner. Yeah, sometimes a guys balls can get to him when nothing else can."
I started to beg him again then, but before I could say much of anything he brought the wooden spoon down, and then back up, fast, right between my legs and into my sac of balls with such force that my entire scrotum was lifted by the impact. I screamed, in total disbelief, and the pain from my nuts went through me with such force that I almost vomited. GOD I HAD NEVER THOUGHT ANYTHING COULD HURT LIKE THAT!
SLAPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP
"Yeowwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!!!!!"
OH GOD...OHHHHH....
SLAPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP
"_f_u_c_k_KKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!" I screamed.
SLAPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP....SLAPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP
Then he just started working that wooden spoon into my balls, left ball, right ball, left ball. He just slammed it home, laughing as he was doing it, and all I could do was buck my hips and scream and jerk as I tried to somehow dodge the blows. He was really swinging that spoon, and hitting it against my balls with such force that every single impact felt like a hammer. I was screaming and screaming and screaming, and he just laughed the entire time that he was working over my nuts. Soon I was blubbering out an apology, screaming for mercy, and yelling at the top of my lungs how sorry I was and how bad a boy I had been. I begged him, and yet he just kept slapping my balls, slapping them with that spoon until he had beaten them thoroughly. I never stopped screaming, and finally, for the first time, my dick went totally soft.
He paused then.
I thought he was done then, but I was wrong. Then he said to me: "Michael... Michael.... Michael. You keep moving, and your balls are swinging and it's hard to get a square hit on them. I need you to hold still, so I can really smack your nuts and make sure you get the message."
My eyes went wide open then, and he grinned, and as he was grinning he grabbed my sac in his left hand, squeezing it and wrapping his fist tightly around the base of it, stretching it out away from me and squeezing hard enough to trap by two balls in the bottom of my bag. He was pulling out my entire scrotum, and then, holding it there that way, he said: "You know Michael, your balls are pretty big for a young man. Yeah, you've got big balls dude. Right now they are pretty red, and the skin is stretched so tight I can see them pretty clearly. Don't ever forget this feeling, cause believe me, you don't ever want to see me gain."
Then he took the spoon in his right hand and started to smack it against my trapped nuts, working that wooden spoon over each orb individually while he held my scrotum and trapped my balls together tight in the bottom of my bag. I screamed, bucked my hips, and grunted from every single blow. I don't know--it was so _d_a_m_n_ painful I thought I was going to die. He just smack-smack-smacked my balls with that spoon, again and again, and laughed while he worked them over and drove me insane. I didn't think it would ever end, and by the time he did finish I was just a blubbering idiot, begging him like there was no tomorrow coming.
It went on for a long time. I guess he pounded that spoon into my balls for at least a good ten to fifteen minutes. Then, when he stopped, he felt my sore nuts and fondled the essence of my manhood. As he was doing that, he took the metal clamp off of my dick, and felt my soft pole. As he fondled my noodle of a dick he said "You know...I think I might be getting to you. Perhaps you are starting to learn that behaving yourself as a man is a much smarter option."
With that he set me up, and then he unstrapped my right wrist, and then reconnected it to the leather strap behind my back. Then, he did the same to the left wrist, and once again I was secured well with my arms behind my back and strapped to my neck which made it impossible for me to touch my ass. Then he unstrapped my two ankles and then prodded me from the bed where I had laid with spread legs as his spoon had pulverized my exposed and unprotected balls.
He walked me over to this rail, and bent me over it, and by this time I was too sore to really protest. I couldn't imagine anything else really, and I felt so ashamed at this point and so helpless that I had lost really my ability to fight him or protest his actions. Once I was over the rail he kicked my legs wide apart, and then strapped them in position to hold them that way. He then uncuffed my wrists, one at a time, and recuffed them to supports that held the rail, so that I was bent over it, with my bottom sticking up and perched high, almost begging for whatever it was that he intended to do to me. I was just so _d_a_m_n_ helpless at that point!
He left me for a while, and I just stared at my feet and felt the snot drooling out of my nose where I had blubbered and begged as my balls had been repeatedly smacked. Then he came around to me and picked up my chin, holding my head up until I was looking right into his eyes. Then, he unzipped his pants, and his big _c_o_c_k_ jumped out, eager even. I had never seen anything like it. For one thing, it was really big, and it wasn't circumsized. In the end of it was a prince albert ring, and I had never seen a pierced dick and it shocked me. There was a tattoo on it too, and when I saw that I shuddered. I noticed there were some more metal rings in his balls, and the entire thing surprised me and I couldn't believe what I was looking at.
That's when he grabbed his rod and gave it a couple of pulls, and then he said "Hey....I have to tell you that I have really enjoyed our little session together. I really have. I hope you misbehave yourself again, because I'd like to do this again some day. But well, I figured you probably won't. What do you think? Nice _c_o_c_k_, huh? Yeah...go ahead....feel free. I see you staring at it. Why don't you give it a suck. Yeah....SUCK MY _c_o_c_k_ LIKE A BAD LITTLE BOY."
I stared at it. There was no way I could do what he wanted, and no matter what I still had my pride and so I shook my head and refused him. I had never sucked another guy's dick, not ever, and I certainly wasn't in the mood to do it then. He stared, and said nothing when I refused him. I thought he might try to shove it down my throat anyway, and I decided I'd bite him hard if it became necessary. But it didn't, and instead he stuffed his sausage back into his pants, and that's when he said this to me.
"You know Michael, if you were smart you would have opted to make me free good. Yeah, a really nice _c_o_c_k_ sucking would go a long way getting me to have some sympathy for you. As it is, well, I think you still have some learning to do. You know, you aren't really a little boy, or even a teenager either. And while I tried to use your balls to get through to you as a man, I don't think your balls are sufficient to really teach you all that you need to know."
As he was saying that he walked around behind me, and put his hand on the small of my back and was playing with the sweat there. I was staring straight ahead, into the camera, and feeling him touching my back. I had the thought he might _f_u_c_k_ me, and I knew I didn't want to be raped. But that wasn't on his agenda. Instead, he reached up between my legs and fondled my sore balls, and when he did he said: "Michael......you are here because of your refusal to follow the law. You are a thief Michael...a THIEF. And you STOLE SOMETHING. You are an adult, an ADULT Michael, and you deserve to be punished like one."
Suddenly, I felt something against my ass, and when I jerked my head around and peered over my shoulder I was staring at this long leather strap, almost two feet long, made from worn thick leather and a big wooden handle on it. It had a line of holes right down the leather strap, and it was big, and when I saw him drawing the leather over my ass and tickling me with it, I was suddenly scared to the core.
He grinned when he saw my fear, and then he said: "This is a Canadian prison strap, and it was actually used on adult prisoners who refused to do what they were told. I've been told that it rarely had to be used twice, and most prisoners that felt it were quick to change their behavior. I think we will see if it can teach you similar manners."
With that, he raised his arm way up over his head, high, and then as I was watching he brought it down full force, in a blur, slamming that thick leather strap right down across my left cheek of my ass. It hit so hard it cracked, much like a whip cracks when it flips just perfectly.
CRACKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!" I screamed and screamed and screamed!
He laughed, and brought the strap up again, this time landing it right across the bottom of my ass, across both cheeks right where my thighs met my bottom. I jerked up against the restraints and screamed again, my mouth open in shock. Suddenly, he just started to pummel my bottom, up and down, working that strap right in the crack of my ass and even across my hole as he was doing it. I bucked and jerked and yelled and screamed, and yet there was nothing I could do to stop what was happening to me. Nothing at all. After a while there was nothing on this earth but my bottom and that strap, and the pain tore through me. In the mirrored wall I watched at my rear slowly went from bright red to purple, just an ugly shade of purple that tore right into my soul.
Then he stopped, and laid that strap gently across my back, letting it rest there. He walked around in front of me, where I was crying and the tears were just flooding out like a ten year old. He lifted my chin, and then he slowly opened the front of his pants for a second time, and then he pulled his big _c_o_c_k_ out of his pants. It was a huge dick, and it wasn't even hard! I really had never seen another man's dick up so close, and his was growing up from his nest of pubic hair. The end of it was round, and covered with skin, and yet the big Prince Albert piercing caught my eye. The tip of his dick was seeping clear liquid. I stared at it, and then he said "Why don't you try it? I'm sure you could be a good _c_o_c_k_sucker if you wanted, and if you are sucking my _c_o_c_k_ I know your ass will appreciate the rest. Of course, if you would rather me pick up the strap and start working it down your thighs and legs, I can do that instead. So, what's it going to be? Some more of the strap, or a good tongue licking for my sausage?"
I couldn't take any more of the strap, so I opened my mouth and I sucked him in. I felt so ashamed, but I opened my lips wide like a whore and swallowed his pole, feeling it inside of my mouth. As soon as he slid it through my lips it started to thicken, and then it grew fully hard and erect and I could literally feel it throbbing in my mouth. He had a huge _c_o_c_k_, really huge, and his pole made my own look like a boys.
He moaned with the feeling, and then began to push it deeper, and then he pulled it almost out, and then in and out and in and out, working his pole and _f_u_c_k_ing my mouth. I felt my lips around his pole, gripping it, and as it slid in and out of my mouth I gagged. I had never had another man's dick in my mouth, and the feeling was shocking. I could feel the metal end of it as it tapped against my teeth, and as it moved in my mouth he grunted from the feeling. I sucked him, and he laughed when I did. Then he shoved it in even deeper, and my throat bobbed and I literally swallowed his dick. I stared at his pubic hair that was shoved into my nose, and smelled his manhood, and yet still I sucked his rod and my tongue felt it as it pushed and pulled and _f_u_c_k_ed my face. As he was _f_u_c_k_ing me he was talking.
"OH YEAHHHHHHHHHHh....that't is Michael. Suck my pole! SUCK IT! Yeah....lick the end of it too....work my P. A. with your tongue!"
I tried to get my tongue out of the way, but I could feel it over the end of his dick, literally slicking his ring of metal and his piss slit at the same time. God he was _f_u_c_k_ing my mouth! As I felt that, he said: "OH YEAHHHH, That's it....! That feels so _f_u_c_k_ing good! SO _f_u_c_k_ING GOOD! Don't stop....just suck it....yeah...suck it. Oh God.................."
Then, he stiffened, and all of a sudden he exclaimed "OHHHH...HERE'S MY WAD!!!!"
As he said that he arched his back then and grabbed my head in his hands and shoved my head down onto his pole as he pushed his _c_o_c_k_ even deeper down my throat. Then I felt it. His sperm just jetted into my mouth and down my throat, and it seemed he was pumping out gallons of the goo as he ejaculated. He came and came, and I felt his body shudder as his balls emptied themselves and he filled my mouth with his man cream. It ran out around my lips, and dribbled down my chin, and as he came and laughed I felt the tears and the humiliation and the shock of it all. And there right in front of me, was the _f_u_c_k_ing camera, and suddenly I just felt like a whore as he pumped his goo into me and I sucked it up like sweet cream.
After about a minute and a half he slowly relaxed, and still he held my head and left his rod inside my mouth. I felt it begin to soften, and that's when he pulled his spent rod out of my mouth and laughed as he savored his post orgasmic feelings. He patted me on the head then, and finally, FINALLY, he asked: "Have you learned anything Michael? Tell me what you have learned and perhaps I can sign off your punishment as complete."
And so I cried out my sorrow, and I apologized for stealing, for being a bad boy and a misbehaving man. I promised him I would never get in trouble again, never, and I meant it as I sobbed and begged for forgiveness. I told him I had learned a lesson, and that I would be good from now on. Finally, I just was bawling like a little boy, sobbing my heart out and I even had snot drooling from my nose. I was so _d_a_m_n_ humiliated, and I felt just so ashamed I can't really describe it.
He laughed then, and got up and unstrapped my wrists. As I was standing, he motioned to where my jeans and shredded T was, and then he said "I think you can get dressed. I'm done with you." Then, he signed the piece of paper and handed it to me, and when I took it in my hand and stared at it I had no idea what to say.
"I, RC, have administered a through corporal punishment session to a Mr. Michael R. Oliver, at his request and in lieu of other state mandated punishment, and can attest to the fact that he has been thoroughly disciplined for his misbehavior. He was punished in the following manner:________________________________________________."
In his handwriting he had written in six words, which by themselves only hinted at what I had been through. The words were "spanked,"
"paddled,"
"flogged,"
"spooned,"
"birched," and "strapped," and when I saw those words on the line I wanted to cry. Of course, he had left out anything to do with the blow job I had given to him. I felt so ashamed, and so used. Under those words he had signed the paper, and I stared there for several moments just looking at it. I think I was in shock, trying to figure out exactly what had happened to me. I felt like a fool.
My ass was so _d_a_m_n_ sore and my balls were aching between my legs. In the mirror I could see that my buttocks were purple, and it would be several days before I could sleep on anything but my stomach. Still, I didn't have a police record, not anymore I didn't, and so perhaps in spite of the pulverized rear end and my sore balls I now had at least I still had a job and the secret was still mine. Of course, somewhere there was a video tape, and I knew instantly that the judge and the DA and perhaps even my own lawyer would be watching it and laughing as they did so.
With that thought, my face flushed as red as my ass, and I left him then, heading to my car and back to my normal routine. Still, I thanked him as I left. I don't know why I did....but I did. As I was driving home, I looked in the mirror and saw the dried spunk on my chin. God! I wiped it off, and then, looking down, I saw the Oakley's sitting on the dash, and on a whim, I opened the window and tossed them out of my life. For some reason I didn't even want to look at them.
[Authors note: © Copyright October, 2004. All rights reserved. Not to be copied without the consent of the author. If you liked the story, please write and tell me. Thanks. -nathan9001@yahoo. com]