A group of Bad Boys suffer their due punishment. Starting with Doogie who is stripped naked front of his friends, father and neighbor and prepared for some brutal disciplinary action.


Bad Boy's Get What They Deserve - Page 1
by Amalaric
Ary by Amalaric

1. Bad Boy

OK, if it’s a bad ass, rowdy, trouble addict you’re looking for, Dillon (his friends call him Doogie) Muir fits the bill. His grades sucked in high school and that's the main reason he now attends community college instead of some fancy university and, if the truth be told, his grades suck there as well. Doogie would much rather be down at the beach getting blasted with his friends around a keg of beer than cracking some boring book in the library. Full of sap (in more ways than one); the proud and feisty young buck gets up to his share of pranks as well, reckoning he'll live for ever and never counting the cost.

Well, after the latest escapade the fed-up cops recommended some old fashioned remedial action to the school authorities and Doogie's dad. After some surprised thought, all parties agreed that might be just the thing...everyone, that is, except Doogie.

'Get your ass in the garage, boy!' Doogie shook his handsome head in sullen denial and was rudely surprised when he found himself doubled up on the living room floor. He staggered to his feet and got his ass into the garage, blushing as he stripped off his tee on command and loosened his jeans. This was going to be bad...but what the fuck- Doogie Muir was a bad boy.

2. Doogie Muir Takes it Hard

doogie2‘Sheeet…man, you got to be kidding!’ Bluster was his forte and as for attitude, well, Doogie Muir owned the mint. His back pack- handily stashed with swim trunks, spare tee and a six pack of beer- lay forlorn but not forgotten against the far wall of the living room. ‘Fuck it…’ muttered under his breath as he turned to go. It was then that the fist slammed into his lower gut, doubling him over in a blinding burst of pain, followed by another that sent him sprawling breathless on the floor. The bastard from the community college- some kind of rent-a-cop by the looks of him- turned to his partner and smiled. Get up, boy, we got a long day ahead of us.’ Doogie’s dad looked pale, uncertain of the course of action recommended by both the college and the local PD, but…on the other hand, yeah, it was obvious; something had to be done with the cocky young bastard and…just maybe…

‘Mr. Muir,’ the goon’s smirk was contagious as he addressed the nineteen year old miscreant, voice dripping with sarcasm, ‘you been a shit load of trouble since…’ he pantomimed a perusal of his notebook, ‘around the age of three. Well, sir…that’s no account to me and my partner here, though your dad might have something else to say about that, but,’ he coughed, ‘your antics of late are another matter. In a word (or two), boy, just about everyone in this peaceful community is in full agreement on one important point- yep, something needs to be done about Doogie Muir and, well, we’re here to do it.’

‘Fuck you, fat man…gotta get myself ready for the waves, big kegger down at the coast…’ But the young buck surprised himself, rubbing his aching gut and choking on a wave of nausea; the memory of two fists slammed into his belly painfully fresh, he stood in place shuffling with impatience and, OK, getting nervous as hell. ‘That’s good, Doogie, I think maybe you’re just beginning to understand the gravity of the situation.’ The goon turned toward his partner and Doogie’s dad, ‘You say the garage might be a suitable location?’ Doogie’s dad nodded. Right!’ Turning back to the pissed off young stud, he was all crisp business, ‘Let’s go, boy- we got a long day ahead of us.’

The garage was all cool shadows and familiar smells of oil, gasoline, sawdust and just plain old dirt. Doogie had been there a million times and stole a quick nostalgic glance at an old surfboard suspended from the rafters. The cool space seemed violated by the presence of his dad and the rent-a-thugs from the school…and then there was his back pack, abandoned in the living room, beer getting warm… ‘Strip your shirt off, boy…and loosen your jeans.’ He stared at his unlikely captors; part defiant but part scared, now, and…what? Doogie paused for a few seconds, hardly shy about his body yet somehow reticent; but the memory of what had transpired in the living room still rankled and so he pulled the white tee over his head and, hands suddenly leaden, unbuttoned his jeans, spreading the fly wide. ‘Good job, Doogie.’ The fuck face sounded downright smug, but Doogie, for his part, swallowed hard, unaccountably afraid and oddly embarrassed. He sensed what was coming and the assholes didn’t keep him waiting long. It seemed like an eternity but was really only a minute or two as the three adults scanned his long, lean torso, sizing him up.

doogie3Doogie, of course, was used to going shirtless; a regular beach addict, always looking to impress the babes…but this was different, way different. He felt his jeans sagging over the pale expanse of fresh briefs shrugged into all uncaring after his morning shower and knew a rush of anxiety, interrupted and augmented by the next command. ‘Get your pants off, boy.’ It couldn’t be happening. He glanced with unfeigned concern at the wide-open door filled with cheery summer sunlight and was mortified as his captor laughed, but the repeated command was anything but humorous, ‘I said, GET YOUR PANTS OFF…NOW!’ Doogie complied; reluctantly, full of anxiety and gathering shame until he stood, stripped to his shorts, in the back of his dad’s garage. The young buck cut a fine sight- somewhere around six feet tall, rugged youthful features fixed in his trademark scowl, long body layered with developing muscle, smooth tanned skin kissed by the temperate sun, filled with potential and the racing pulse of nineteen year old hormones ready for action…but not this kind of action!!! He shivered, feeling incredibly vulnerable, and placed long fingered hands over the bulge in the damp cotton at his crotch. The college cops were openly appreciative, admiring the counterpoint of Doogie’s smooth, youthful chest and belly complimented by the manly promise of muscular legs dusted with wiry hair like a satyr somehow come to life. Doogie glanced nervously toward the open door, painfully aware of his near-nudity, fully conscious that his friends were due momentarily to give him a lift to the beach.

A meaty paw laid against the warm nape of his neck, and the skittish buck was guided across the open space of oily concrete to a post studded with old brackets and nails. Doogie amazed himself as, unresisting, his arms were shackled upright to one of the brackets, leaning into the post, stripped to his scanty briefs, round muscular ass jutting into the shadows of the garage. His chest heaved with anxious breath, embracing the post like a longed for lover. ‘What the fuck is this all about?’ For all of that, his protest seemed lame as he shifted the coiled weight of nineteen year old muscle on the greasy floor wishing he was anywhere but in this place, almost naked…with the goddam door wide open…and what was that? Bob Gardner, the single businessman that lived next store in a house way too big for one occupant, sauntering up the driveway. Oh, shit!!!!! Doogie could swear that the guy often checked him out from the corner of his eye as he mowed the front lawn in warm weather (usually stripped to the waist…). Damn faggot! And…ahhhh, no!!! His friends pulled into the driveway, piling out of the restored jalopy ready for the trip to the beach, now gawking in amazement. Doogie twisted against the post, flushed with humiliation as the pseudo-cops ushered the curious crowd into the garage. ‘Hey, Bob!’ Doogie’s dad was affable, if slightly sheepish, hastening to explain- ‘Some kind of new fangled policy…recommended by the schools and city PD. Got to do something with this kid and, well, I guess you could say what we have here is an almost-grown up version of the good old fashioned paddling over the knee.’ ‘Care if I stick around and watch?’ Bob seemed strangely breathless. ‘Not at all, man!’ Doogie’s dad smiled and began fiddling with the old electric coffee maker as Bob sauntered over next to the strung up young buck shivering in his shorts. He ran a hand casually down the length of Doogie’s muscular back stopping just above the elastic waistband, lightly inserted a finger and hiked the briefs a few inches lower exposing the crack of the stud’s creamy ass. ‘Seems a shame to leave his shorts on…’ Doogie’s dad arched an eyebrow and nodded, unsure of the protocol and looked toward the pair of goons, more obviously practiced at this sort of thing. Doogie wanted to plead but couldn’t bring himself to do it, gritting his teeth in silent shame as Bob’s roving hand moved around to the hard ridges of his abs, dipping into his navel before spiraling in a corkscrew massage into the front of his jockeys. He flinched, pulling hard at the chains that bound his wrists to the post, hardly daring to breathe as Bob’s hand came to a tentative rest in the nest of curly pubes less than an inch above the root of his terrified cock.


‘You boys- get in here, now!’ The question of whether Doogie would shed his shorts waited on the goons’ informed decision, but the cops were otherwise occupied, herding Doogie’s beach buddies into the shadowy depths of the garage. Bob mercifully ceased his studious groping- just testing the kid’s muscle, ya know…got to see if he’s fit to take what’s coming- and stepped back as Doogie’s friends crowded around the tall twitching form of their erstwhile leader. Bob’s cursory examination had been shameful and disgusting, ratifying Doogie’s deepest suspicions, but the presence of his friends, as he anticipated what must be coming, dragged the teen alpha buck over a precipice of humiliation that was the stuff of darkest nightmare. Doogie’s friends, for their part, seemed fascinated and eagerly gathered around their leader, drinking in the sight of him stripped and helpless…as if they haven’t seen me a thousand times all buff in my swim trunks down by the boardwalk…but this is different. Oh fuck, way different! One of the cops- his name badge read: Colin Bosco- delivered a very short and self-satisfied lecture. He gestured toward the tall tanned form of Doogie Muir sweating now against the post and said, ‘This here buck’s been the cause of a shit load of trouble- you all know that- and don’t think we don’t know that the lot of you have been up to your share. Well, Doogie’s gonna pay for what he’s been up to and hopefully learn a valuable lesson in the process. You boys are invited to watch the fireworks and maybe even lend a hand…and with any luck the lesson he learns will sink into your thick skulls because next time it might be one of you strung up in your daddy’s garage. Got it, boys?’ Collective nods greeted the speech, wide-eyed expectation crackling in the oily air. ‘Ah, officer…’ it was Doogie’s dad, ‘Bob (he nodded toward the other man) had a good question- shouldn’t he be stripped down completely for the paddling…or whatever it is you’re going to do?’ Bosco glanced at his companion and guffawed. Smiling broadly at Bob, he winked; ‘Like to have a long look at what the stud’s packing, eh…Mr…?’ Bob blushed furiously as Bosco turned toward Doogie’s dad and continued, ‘We’ve a long day ahead of us sir and each phase operates according to its own procedure…’ Bob’s request seemed to have been deferred and Doogie heaved a sigh of mixed desperation and odd relief, burying his forehead against the post, conscious of several pairs of eyes riveted on his broad naked back and cotton clad ass. Colin Bosco, a born showman and also a man who thoroughly loved his job, reckoned it was time for the first act to begin and, producing a thick leather strap, snapped it against his thigh with a theatrical flourish.



  1. adrk - December 3, 2016, 8:45 am

    just an awesome story again thank you

  2. conversation17 - January 19, 2017, 10:26 pm

    As you move each of these stories into this lucky Web site, we of course get to enjoy once again the remarkable writing and images that made the loss of Chained Muscle such a catastrophe. Your contributions were legion and could keep you posting for years. At least you have found a new home and a new audience for your stellar tales of whips and torment and sexy men. Our thanks to them and always to you.

  3. Amalaric - January 20, 2017, 2:13 am

    …and we haven’t even posted one of the really long one’s yet. Any requests?

  4. GayBondageFiction - January 24, 2017, 8:56 pm

    Academy Thugs!! haha

  5. Amalaric - January 24, 2017, 10:42 pm

    Oh, shit…I knew you would suggest that. OK, I’m out all day today but I swear, tomorrow I will wrap up the section detailing the mighty travails of long suffering (and killer good looking) Coach Devereaux…WOOF!!

  6. bigballs46 - June 19, 2021, 1:05 am

    But please don’t forget Steve Delgado . He’s had a few weeks now to worry about what the lecherous Sheriff and his deputies have in store for him!

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