GayBondageFiction

An arrogant, homophobic and hairy mob boss gets his just desserts from his disgruntled servant in another hot tale from Richard.
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1950’s Mob Boss Nick Vitale Gets His – Big Time! : Page 1
by Richard

Nick Vitale wheeled his brand-spankin’ new 1952 Packard V-8 convertible into the circular drive of his brand spankin’ new hip Vegas bachelor pad, a sprawling one-story edifice of the first order. Vitale was an up-and-coming Mafia boss, filling the void after Bugsy Siegel got himself rubbed out some years back, Vitale having more than a hand in the new Vegas casinos, bookmaking rackets and a new interest in the promising venture of churning out “stag” films catering to every taste. Nick predicted that “stag” films would be his next big money-making racket. People craved sex and would pay to see it performed. It was a simple as that. Piece of cake!

The 28-year-old proudly hirsute, darkly handsome Sicilian-via-New-York bred Vitale admired his reflection in the rear view mirror. Life was fuckin’ good. He’d just dispatched two of his best goons/bodyguards, Guido and Vinny, to “off” a lower-level member of the syndicate who had the fuckin’ balls to try to glom in on Nick’s rackets- big mistake! Vitale would show the bastard what happens to guys who try to fuck around with the great Nick Vitale! They didn’t come any rougher or tougher than Nick Vitale- that’s for fuckin’ damn sure.

The 6′ 4″ deeply tanned Vitale raised one of his thick dark eyebrows as he lowered his sunglasses to wink one of his startlingly green eyes at himself in the rear view mirror, pleased with how he had handled things, as usual. Facially, Nick would be a dead ringer for actor Bobby Cannavale today, only even taller and far more muscular and buff. And Nick was sure the actor Steve Cochran’s role in the recent 1950 gangster movie “The Damned Don’t Cry” subtitled “Ambition. Betrayal. Murder.- Don’t Let The Little Things Stop You” was modeled on him- hell the handsome Vegas hood in that one was even named “Nick” in it- ‘cept Vitale had no intention of ending up like the actor in that movie did- this Nick was way too smart for that. Why the great Nick Vitale had even bagged the star of that film, that old bitch Joan Crawford when that film was made (the bitch must’ve been 40 even back in ’50 when she was in Vegas for the filming of that movie) and supposedly needed to do some “research” into mob “action” to “get into character” for that film, but the only “action” she was interested in was all in the bedroom as Nick could attest, and Nick banged the celebrity bitch’s brains out- another satisfied customer who had swung on Nick’s big Sicilian salami, and more to add to the egotistical mobster’s notorious bragging rights, yet another notch in his proverbial bedpost.

Yeah, hotshot mobster Vitale often fantasized about his ideal broad and imagined that he would not be adverse to having some buxom, steely dame by his side with the “3G’s” he insisted in on a moll, or was it 4? Vitale could never decide, but anyway- “great gams, guts, and a gun” (along with those big-ass bazooms) to back him up and do his bidding any day- but NO ONE messed with the great Nick Vitale, not no one, no fuckin’ way, no way, no how, not never, ever, or their ass was grass at the very least.

And Vitale was all man, a real man’s man in every fuckin’ god-damn fuckin’ sense of the word. He totally exuded an undeniable, confident virility and raw, animal magnetism that was self-evident and had given him a well-deserved reputation as one very slick lady’s man. Nick’s notorious sex drive served him well as he rabbit-fucked a succession of starlets and, as noted, even big name Hollywood A-list actresses who were understandably in awe of his extremely fit body and turned on by the power the mobster had and how everyone in Vegas kowtowed to his every whim and need at the slightest gesture or more commonly the pointedly rude snap of the arrogantly omnipotent Mafioso’s powerful fingers. Nick had an insatiable sexual appetite, and as his cock twitched in his suit pants as he admired his swanky house and car, the mobster suddenly realized that what with the charter flight to Detroit and back to meet with the Mob families and this business with the fucker who had tried to glom in on Nick’s rackets, Nick hadn’t had a chance to get off with some doll or dame in days. (Women were all “dolls” or “dames” or “broads” to Nick).

Vitale adjusted his Borsalino fedora to its accustomed cocky and jaunty angle and loosened his tie in the desert heat as he manfully strode toward the front door in his widely pin-striped natty suit, his suit pants held up by his sharp suspenders and his size-12 feet clad in unseen calf-length silk socks and spiffy two-toned designer shoes. A real fuckin’ fashion plate if Nick said so himself, as he was apt to do.

As Nick approached the front door it was ever so silently opened for him by his exceedingly deferential and reassuringly obedient Japanese “houseboy, ” “Ito,” the 24-year-old clad in a white suit jacket, crisp white dress shirt, dark tie, and dark suit pants, in a formal “houseboy” uniform despite the desert heat. Ito quietly intoned “Welcome home, sir” in his quiet Asian way, the totally submissive servant to his brash, brazen employer.

“Yeah, whatever” replied Nick gruffly, rudely tossing Ito his Borsalino fedora over his shoulder to fall to the floor to be seen to, never one to treat a servant (let alone most any other people) with respect. Nick was very proud of having a Japanese houseboy since he had been advised that all similarly-situated rich men had one nowadays, which meant he just had to have one, plus it also very much impressed the ladies, which made it all the more important. In fact, Nick had two Japanese guys staying in his house at the moment, Nick having allowed Ito’s 22-year-old cousin, Kenji, to stay on after a weekend visit to the homesick Ito, not out of anything like compassion but because Kenji was a film student with the latest most technologically advanced cameras and knew how to use them. The wily Vitale had already used Kenji’s expertise to film several “stag” films at Vitale’s new home, not paying the “fuckin’ Jap” a cent for his efforts (Vitale was unapologetically full of racist slurs at the drop of a well…fedora). Vitale reasoned that he was “feeding the slant-eyed bastard and giving him free room and board” so the “fucker ought to do something to earn his keep while he’s here.” Luckily, Ito’s uniforms fit Kenji as well, so Vitale had even been able to further impress his guests when he had not just one, but two uniformed Japanese houseboys to help serve the lavish dinner and cocktail parties that were regular events at the house. Kenji was noted by Vitale to be fiddling with a film editing machine at the far side of the living room in the distance, today clad in simple pants and shirt instead of a houseboy uniform, since there were no parties planned for that evening, since Vitale had been away on mob “business” all day.

In fact, Kenji had done a great job with the “stag” films, not only filming scenes around the bedrooms and pool of the house starring cash-strapped “starlets” who couldn’t make it in mainstream pictures, but Vitale had gotten Kenji to set up a “hidden” camera in one of the spare bedroom’s closet to capture an impromptu fuck session by an A-list actress and an A-list actor who went at it like crazy behind the locked bedroom door during one of Nick’s classy soirees, totally unaware that Vitale had “the goods” on them- useful blackmail money for Vitale who couldn’t get enough of it- not to mention the power it gave him over the victims. Vitale wouldn’t mind forcing the A-list actress caught on cam to perform every imaginable revolting sex act on him in order to keep her little fuck session out of the press! Just think what the powerful gossip columnists of the day, Hedda or Louella, could do with those facts- The possibilities with this blackmail shit were endless!

As Nick Vitale entered his Vegas abode, “houseboy” Ito further inquired:”Is there anything you require oh most honorable employer, Mr. Vitale, sir?” ever the apparently loyal servant. Nick replied over one of his broad suit-clad shoulders that “Yeah- I’ve had a rough day. I could use a shower and then one of them ‘Jap’ massages like you gave me a few weeks back,” as Nick headed for the master bedroom.

Nick entered the master bedroom where the setting sunshine coming in through the half-closed venetian blinds cast a mysterious, diagonal light and shadow across the room and its occupants and showed up what dust there was in the immaculately-cared-for house in the hot desert air- portents of noirish things to come, one might say.

A few minutes later, after Ito had made a quick telephone call, Vitale assuming it was regarding ordering more booze for Vitale’s next soiree in a few days, Ito obediently but warily followed behind, bearing his massage oil “kit”- but Ito had reason to be wary- the previous massage session had not gone well at all, not well at all.

Nick brusquely flung off his suit coat for Ito to slavishly pick up, removed his silk tie, removed his Sam Browne shoulder gunbelt and his .38 and placed them on the dresser, let his suspenders droop over his suit pants and began unbuttoning his crisp white dress shirt, exposing whirls of proud jet black hair on his upper chest before whisking off his dress shirt and flinging it on the floor for the servile Ito to see to, leaving Vitale in his sexy white “wife-beater” undershirt which clung to his hirsute, muscular chest like a fuckin’ glove, revealing his muscular sun-tanned arms and hairy forearms as he admired himself in the full-length bedroom cheval mirror, tilted upward to give Nick a great view of his own handsome body. Nick struck an impromptu “King Of The World” pose, raising those powerful muscular arms and flexing them in the mirror as Ito looked on, Nick’s hairy, sweaty armpits sexily exposed, Ito not realizing what a longing, lustful look Ito had on his own face as Nick did so, caught in the mirror’s reflection for Nick to see as well.

“Am I great or what, Ito?” You like feastin’ yer little slant eyes on those big, sexy guns, just like all my fuckin’ adoring dames, don’tcha? So much bigger and stronger than your puny little Jap ones, eh?” teased Nick, Nick now knowing full well that Ito was a “fuckin’ homo faggot” which he had called Ito to his face when Ito had given Nick that massage a few weeks back and had tried to “go down” on Nick’s manly tool to Nick’s horror. Nick brought that session to a quick end, Nick knocking Ito around and giving him some bruises that didn’t show, Nick controlling his volatile Sicilian temper which only prevented him from kicking the shit out of the “homo bastard” because Nick had a big party scheduled for the next night and he wanted his prestigious houseboy to be present serving his important guests, at least visibly, if not in all manners, apparently unscathed, although poor Ito suffered for days from the bruises that didn’t show, not to mention the emotional ones that stung even more.

Nick hated “homo faggots” but even in mob circles Nick had heard of guys like Nick using their own bodies to “seal a deal” with “those pervs” where necessary- basically using knowledge or even suspicion that a person was homosexual in the 1950’s to entrap them into maybe giving them a quick blowjob caught on cam (without the mobster’s own face, of course, just the blackmailee’s face with a hard cock in his mouth) and then blackmailing them to keep quiet- that could pay off big with those rich queers with a lot to lose in 1950’s America. Plus Nick had heard that these homos really knew how to suck a dick and here Nick was horny as hell with an only-too-willing servant eager to “please” him! And who the fuck would ever know? Nick could easily have his low-life powerless “Jap” servant deported or arrested for 1950’s “crimes against nature” or some shit like that if this weakling Ito tried to get smart or try to lord a blowjob over him (as if anyone would believe the babbling foreign fucker anyway who could hardly string a few words of English together, and then only if they could understand his foreign chatter, like anyone would try! Hell, WW2 hadn’t been over long and who’d believe a fuckin’ Jap anyway?) Nick was all man and everyone knew that. But a cock has a mind of its own and no one the wiser! And like Ito would complain anyway- he’d be getting exactly what the “slant-eyed cocksucker” (to use Nick’s colorful turn of phrase) wanted!

Vitale also had Kenji set up another movie camera in the closet of his own master bedroom where Vitale filmed his hunky employer’s own hot fuck sessions with various starlets and name actresses, most recently one featuring a bit of bondage as Nick and his bodyguards/goons Guido and Vinny helped Nick tie the broad up before Nick dismissed his goons whereupon he raped and sodomized the bound “dame” all on cam, Nick keeping his film trophies in a locked drawer in his bedroom unseen by anyone but himself- oh except maybe that Kenji who developed the stuff for him but Nick had the little shit scared shitless of him, Nick making it clear he would have Kenji “rubbed out” if he ever viewed what he had developed for him. Little did Vitale know that Kenji knew virtually no “gangster slang” and thought “rubbed out” meant a solo male masturbating to orgasm since “rubbing one out” was the closest term in Kenji’s handy American slang dictionary and that is what it said the term meant. Such a statement left Kenji more confused than frightened in reality, and cousin Kenji had indeed viewed the films and kept copies of them in Ito’s room, the duo watching the copies in private when Vitale was away, the two proudly homosexual (“gay” did not exist then) cousins eyeing Vitale’s humping ass and privates on film and watching him blast his load multiple times in each film, the duo shocked by what Vitale did to these women yet turned on by seeing their macho employer in action. However, Nick had no clue that Kenji was a homosexual as well as Ito- at least not yet! Nor that Kenji was quite the inventor- those inscrutable Asians were full of surprises as Nick was to learn first-hand soon enough.

Nick therefore said “So, ‘houseboy’ Ito, let’s get on with things. Just between us (and I’M SURE YOU UNDERSTAND THAT THIS MUST GO NO FURTHER BECAUSE YOUR FUCKIN’ LIFE DEPENDS ON IT), but I’ve decided that, er, what I forbid you from doing in that prior, er, ‘massage’ event is, er, OK, this time and I’ll let you do it, but mind you, er, nothing else beyond what the, you know, er, BJ stuff you tried on me before, understood?”

“Oh yes sir, Mr. Vitale, sir!” Oh-ah-so –you will see– me will be oh so good to oh so honorable employer!” Ito enthused, amping up the “Asian houseboy” subservience shit to the max for Nick’s benefit. (“Fuckin’ slant-eye can’t even talk ‘good English’ like I does” thought dees-dems-and -does Nick, music to his ears- this foreign-ass poor-ass punk couldn’t be a threat to the All-American he-man Nick Vitale in the Jap weakling’s wildest dreams!) Camping it up aside, Ito found this change of heart from his studly employer intriguing- very intriguing indeed!

Nick then ordered Ito to slowly “help” his employer undress for Vitale’s shower, Ito approaching his employer from behind as Vitale continued to pose and flex for himself and Ito in the mirror, Ito raising the sexy mobster’s clingy white “wife beater” tee shirt off of his employer’s hunky body, exposing Nick’s puffed-up hairy chest, sexy body hair fanning out over the proudly hirsute planes of his sculpted pectorals before narrowing to a fine line happy trial down to where they disappeared under the cover of Nick’s suit pants. Nick, having been told a thing or two about “homos” couldn’t resist “forcing” (although Ito in reality was only too happy to) Ito’s mouth into Nick’s extremely hairy left armpit, grabbing Ito’s head forcibly and “forcing” Ito to lick and sniff Nick’s funky, sweaty pit and lap up all the delicious and now pungent sweat in first his left and then right armpit. Ito was secretly already in heaven. Ito further noted that as he did so his educated tongue occasionally elicited a slight squeal of distress as Ito’s taster tickled the surprisingly lighter shade of olive sensitive skin hidden beneath the profuse pit hairs in each of the macho Vitale’s proffered pits and where the pit hair parted.

Ito then unclasped Nick’s suit pants causing them to fall to the floor and exposing the sexy mobster Vitale’s trunk-like muscular thighs and calves whose deeply sun-tanned surfaces were also generously sprinkled with jet black Sicilian leg hairs, and leaving Vitale clad only in amusingly conservative white boxer shorts. Ito then tugged the shorts down exposing Vitale’s now dormant cock which was 7 inches even soft under a profusely jet-black-haired pubic bush and his pendulous, hairy balls, the sexy sex-mad and very horny mobster’s own precious crown jewels, filled with the darkly handsome mob boss Vitale’s manly spunk literally aching to blast out of his hot Sicilian salami. Nick hadn’t been this hot-to-trot in weeks.

Vitale then stepped out of his suit pants and shorts and arrogantly kicked them aside for Ito to see to, before kicking off his two-toned shoes. Ito then obediently peeled off the mobster’s calf-length silk socks, noting their pungent foot odor since his employer had worn them all day in the desert heat, Ito setting those aside along with the rest of employer’s clothes leaving the great Nick Vitale completely and utterly nude.

Vitale however was an exhibitionist at heart and loved knowing how his own sexy bod was a tremendous turn-on for his lowly “houseboy”. Vitale again struck his “King-Of The-World” pose in the mirror now totally and proudly bare-ass to the world, swinging his hips and waving his mighty Sicilian salami from side to side for emphasis. Ito lasciviously took in that very humpy ass, a much paler shade of olive than the rest of Vitale’s deeply sun-tanned musculature where it had been covered from the sun by Nick’s 1950’s-era bathing suits, it also being lightly flecked with jet-black hair that thickened and became more profuse down the now tightly-clenched, hidden crack of the hot mobster’s exposed bubble butt. “Now go run me my shower, boy, like a good Jap houseboy!” ordered Nick, amused at how Ito ran literally at full gallop to do so, the better to please his studly employer.

Ito soon returned to announce that the shower was now nice and hot and waiting for the mobster’s naked presence. “Would Mr. Vitale wish his oh-so-humble servant Ito to bathe him so oh most honorable employer would not have to bother with such details?” queried Ito.

“Naw, no way, you fuckin’ horny cocksucker, but nice try, slant-eyes!” said Nick with a sexy green-eyed wink at his blushing houseboy (the yellow-toned fucker somehow managed to fuckin’ blush Nick noticed- go figure) as he padded off to the shower stark naked, his manhood swinging freely from his proudly profuse pubic bush, well aware that Ito was lustfully eyeing his every move, mesmerized by the sight of Vitale’s gorgeous body, Nick getting off on the fact that poor Ito worshipped the ground his employer walked on and would do anything to please him, but then, who could blame the bastard- I AM that hot reasoned the egotistical Nick.

When Nick returned freshly showered and wearing only a white terry-cloth robe, Ito had set up the padded massage table in the bedroom and set his massage oil kit in a smallish holdall zipper bag left on the floor nearby.

“Oh most honorable employer, now you are ready for your most humble servant’s massage session, yes? You know, we Asians are known for our expertise in such things and your most humble and adoring servant is oh-so-ready to ease most honorable employer’s many tensions! Ito thinks you will enjoy it Mr. Vitale, sir!” enthused Ito, embellishing with more of his deferential submissive houseboy shit that the conceited mobster ate up.

“Yeah I’m ready for it, slant-eyes, you do a good job or I’ll have Guido and Vinny take ya for long ride in the fuckin’ desert you’ll never return from- you get my drift?” replied Vitale, ever in control of the situation.

“Ah-so most honorable employer. Ito understands and will perform to most honorable employer’s highest expectations!” replied Ito, who then said “now please remove your bathrobe and lay face down on the table.”

The ever-proud-of-his-hunky-body Nick was happy to oblige, again taking in Ito’s adoring and lustful looks as Nick’s hirsute fresh-from-his-shower manly body was again revealed to his lowly servant’s lustful gaze, as Nick flung himself naked face down on the padded massage table, his paler olive-skinned and slightly furry ass up in total contrast to the rest of his deeply-tanned hunky body. Though proud of his body, Nick was used to the sports massages given by gruff old guys at boxing gyms he used to frequent in his New York days which always involved a “privacy towel” over one’s naked butt and privates, which Nick demanded and got from Ito who was OK with that- for now, anyway.

Ito then switched on some background music to play softly in the background to set the tone as the soft light continued to filter in from the half-closed venetian blinds casting diagonal light and shadow across the hunky mobster’s now semi-naked form- kind of a film-noirish effect and aptly so- and then to put Vitale in a relaxed and open mood, Ito put on a LP phonograph record on the hi-fi that softly played off to one side- some oldies but goodies by Helen O’ Connell with a slower, cocktail lounge tempo- “Green Eyes-Aquellos Ojos Verdes”- “Green Eyes-your green eyes with the soft lights” (like Nick’s own green eyes Ito hoped he would notice but he didn’t) as the song softly continued to play- “Your eyes that promise sweet nights-Bring to my soul a longing, a thirst for love divine -In dreams I seem to hold you, to find you and enfold you- Our lips meet, and our hearts, too, with a thrill so sublime…. But will they ever want me, Green Eyes? Make my dreams come true,” followed by a soft, slow version of “Tangerine,” etc. and proceeded to pour warmed oil onto Vitale’s muscular, deeply-suntanned back and gave Nick a very relaxing deep-tissue massage- the little Jap shit really knew how to give a “real” massage, not just the “happy ending” kind Nick realized, as he did begin to totally relax in Ito’s “oh-so-capable” hands (hell Ito even had Nick thinking in the houseboy’s fractured Asianspeak), the soft mood music having its effect as well even if Vitale didn’t connect the song to his own amazing green eyes, the ones the broads never failed to notice and comment on to the big egotistical lug’s constant amusement and pride.

As time passed, Ito proceeded to massage Vitale’s hairy, muscular legs as well, as Nick began to ooo and ahhh a bit in contentment as his tight muscles began to relax and the mobster really got into having all the tensions in his body relaxed, Nick unconsciously beginning to rub his semi-flaccid Sicilian salami against the padded leather surface of the massage table, making it twitch and begin to harden a bit in anticipation of “cumming attractions.”

Vitale gave soft moans as Ito proceeded to oil and massage each of Nick’s size 12 feet, expertly massaging and cracking the tense toes of each of the handsome big lug’s pink crinkly feet, Ito hazarding a few quick caresses with his fingernails as he did so, just enough to tickle a tiny bit, each time causing the manly Nick to flinch a bit and try to move his sensitive soles away from Ito’s “accidentally” tickling fingers, Nick emitting a few unmanly high-pitched squeals and attempting to wiggle them out of Ito’s firm grasp, due to the unexpected tickling sensation on his totally exposed, oily tootsies, Nick growling- “Hey, slant-eyes, I said to massage me- careful with that shit- not that I’m ticklish or any shit like that- but be the fuck careful, capeesh?”

“Ah-so, oh yes most honorable employer! Ito will be oh-so-careful- your humble servant’s fingers slipped in the massage oil is all- it will not happen again oh most honorable employer!” assured Ito, not intending to do any such thing!

Ito then worked his way back up the sexy mobster’s suntanned hairy legs and wormed his hands right up to the “hem” of Vitale’s “privacy towel” Ito worshipfully gazing up and under the “hem” where Vitale was unknowingly giving the horny houseboy a great view of the Sicilian mobster’s hairy, cum-filled balls, his hefty semen-filled crown jewels also unconsciously brushing up against the soft leather padding of the massage table as Vitale unconsciously continued to lightly friction his hardening Sicilian salami against the padding as well as he got into the massage, Ito managing to have an occasional oily finger “accidentally-on-purpose” stray so that it made an ever-so-light and apparently inadvertent light brushing against the handsome mobster’s horny gonads, Nick not protesting the apparently accidental contact, and in fact further unconsciously opening his legs a bit more as the massage table would allow as Ito continued to lightly brush them with his oily, talented Asian fingers, Ito all the more enthused when he heard the butch Vitale emit a low moan of undisguised pleasure at the contact, the mobster shocked to feel his traitorous prick respond as well, quickly filling with his hot Sicilian blood and causing his mighty pecker to harden to full-blown boner in no time, as Vitale could not bring himself to protest the pleasant molestation of his hairy crown jewels.

“Oh most honorable employer, would you allow your most humble servant Ito to remove the towel so Ito can finish your back massage?”

“You mean so you can get your lousy homo Jap hands on my damn ass, you goddam homo faggot? OK, but don’t fuckin’ linger there- I’ve heard about how you homos like a real man’s ass since you could never have one! But, admit it, fucker, you like that ass don’tcha? Dames love my ass, too, they say it’s one of my best features after my big fuckin’ cock and my sexy green eyes. Admit it, slant-eyes, you wanna fuckin’ kiss my bare Sicilian ass, don’tcha?” said Vitale.

Ito, confused and fearing Vitale was going to bash him for his sexual orientation yet again, wasn’t quite sure how to answer. “Oh most honorable employer, yes sir you have very er handsome er buttocks, sir. Ito likes very much. But is OK to remove towel then?” hazarded Ito.

Vitale answered by yanking the towel right off his own ass exposing the lightly hair-flecked hillocks of his sexy light-olive-skinned ass, much lighter than the rest of his deeply tanned body, cleft by a deeply hairy, tightly clenched trench which only made his fantastic glutes dimple sexily by his attempt to keep them tightly closed and together, lest the Jap might get a peek at his sacrosanct only-utilized-for-taking-dumps tiny pink butthole also tightly clenched and carefully protected from view.

Vitale couldn’t help “humiliate” Ito (or so he thought, not fully realizing that Ito would enjoy doing so) by “ordering” his trembling with desire (which would have been evident had Vitale noticed the bulge in Ito’s houseboy pants) houseboy to “go ahead then, kiss those sexy cheeks, you sick pervert, give ’em a few good loud fuckin’ kisses!” as Vitale roared with laughter.

Ito gladly proceeded to do just that, being careful only to loudly kiss the outer edges of Vitale’s humpy upturned ass as ordered , being careful to stay away from his sexy employer’s tightly clenched crack, as Vitale continued to roar with laughter at his servant’s “humiliation.”

Vitale then let Ito oil up and massage those same sexy cheeks, Ito managing to deeply massage them, even ever so slightly spreading them, Vitale not realizing that Ito had occasionally spread them just enough so that the naked mobster’s tightly clenched hair-haloed pink virgin portal briefly “winked” at the adoring houseboy’s avid gaze, exposed through the otherwise hair-filled cleft of Vitale’s humpy ass.

Vitale was beginning to find this focus on his damn ass a bit unsettling, plus Ito’s firm massage of his damn ass pressing Vitale’s muscular form hard into the massage table only made him grind his rock-hard cock and cum-filled hairy balls against the padded leather massage table all the more, making Vitale moan and groan a bit more as he enjoyed the pleasant sensation, slightly weirded out that the little weakling Jap’s oily, talented hands massaging the bare cheeks of his upturned, fuzzy ass felt good, really good. A little more of this and Vitale might embarrassingly shoot his huge, pent-up wad right there and then, his big, red-hot highly pressurized load blasting all over the padded massage table as jet after jet of his boiling Sicilian baby-makers helplessly squirted all over and dripped onto the floor just by having his damn asscheeks played with, which would be totally weird and impossible for an uptight hetero like himself to live down.

So Vitale then gave a “harrumph” sound and started to turn over onto his oily, massaged back, moaning pleasurably and raising his strong muscular deeply tanned arms over his head in a luxurious stretch, exposing the depths of his extremely hairy Sicilian armpits, which had already begun to sweat yet again in the desert heat, ordering Ito to “now, slant-eyes, time to do my front, eh, oh and it looks like you’re in luck- Mr. Happy looks about ready for his happy ending, doesn’t he?” with a salacious wink of one of his sexily heavy-browed green eyes as Vitale proudly gazed down the length of his rising and falling hairy chest to where the hirsute, horny mobster’s Sicilian salami proudly stood at full mast below his profusely-haired pubic bush, his rock-hard boner sticking up obscenely above his heavy, cum-filled hairy balls.

Ito audibly gasped at the truly magnificent sight of his to-die-for-handsome mobster’s pulsating manhood, and at how the man himself proudly and salaciously admired his own potent virility, the hirsute stud exuding an intoxicatingly confident virility and raw, animal magnetism that nearly made the blushing Ito cum in his houseboy pants just from the sight of the magnificent tower of manly flesh that his adoring eyes beheld, not to mention the rest of the naked hirsute gangster’s splayed out body. And to think that his horny employer was now practically begging him to be the one to “do the honors” instead of some starlet or A-list actress! Ito was soon to go where no man had ever dared go before (he already had “in a way” Ito suddenly realized) and this time Vitale was so fucking horny it seemed like a sure thing- no more bashing this time- Vitale seemed more than ready to get his rocks off.

Since Vitale seemed a bit more willing, even desperate, this time and since he was so fucking handsome even if he was an asshole, Ito even “almost” reconsidered the original plan he had concocted in the event that Vitale ever requested another massage session as he now had (and assuming that Vitale would again resist Ito’s advances) deciding to go ahead with his original plan anyway (well the one he and Kenji had plotted). Vitale was an arrogant homophobic and racist bastard who treated his “houseboys” like shit and deserved what they had planned.

Anyway, if Ito was only going to be allowed to just quickly suck off Vitale and that would be the end of it, with Ito accurately imagining that the arrogant mobster would then brusquely snap his fingers and snottily order his cum-dripping-from-his-mouth “Jap houseboy” to “beat it, slant-eyes” as soon as the bastard had blown his own pent-up wad, then he and Kenji HAD to go through with their plan. The Asian duo wanted more than “just a taste” of their hunky employer- hell, they wanted a full-fledged banquet- only this time with their employer as the centerpiece rather than the huge spreads the two “houseboys” had had to serve Vitale’s “guests” at all those expensive soirees Vitale threw with the Asian duo doing all the work and extensive and time-consuming clean-up. Ito and Kenji would make the egotistical Vitale “earn” his pleasure this time, and at his own expense for once! And they might even make Vitale learn that “service” and “servitude” can work both ways! It was going to be fun to take the hotshot down a few pegs and teach him a few lessons he would not soon, if ever, be able to forget.

With the plan in mind, Ito then proceeded to have Vitale lay back on the massage table with his powerful, muscular arms stretched above him, whereupon he began applying more massage oil to the hunky mobster’s proudly hirsute chest, Ito expertly massaging the warm oil over the brash gangster’s chiseled pectoral muscles, managing to lightly “tweak” the big lug’s sensitive nips almost hidden in the proudly hirsute hunk’s hairy chest, Vitale unable to suppress a sigh of contentment and arousal as the “houseboy’s” lithe and expert fingers found their targets, the handsome hunk never before having realized that his nips were somehow electrically wired right down to the writhing hunk’s tumescent Sicilian salami, which flexed and grew to tremendous proportions and swayed with lust each time Ito expertly played a tune on the gangster’s never-before-realized sensitive nips, which were continuously played by the mischievous Ito to great effect, Vitale unable to suppress a much louder moan of abject lust.

Ito was then able to massage his way down, down, to Vitale’s six-pack abs split by a “happy trail” of more of his hirsute employer’s proud pubic hair where Ito then concentrated his ministrations to his sighing, “oh-so-happy” employer as Ito suddenly thrust one of his lithe fingers into Nick’s “innie” navel and made a corkscrew motion onto his sensitive navel causing the horny hoodlum to arch his back and moan in abject arousal, his tumescent Sicilian salami now painfully erect and throbbing with need and desire, as Vitale visibly trembled with lust and found himself now abjectly begging Ito and purportedly magnanimously allowing him to go “further” saying “OK, now you can go down on me- ya got my permission this time- I fuckin’ need to get off!!- never been so fuckin’ horny in my life!!!” Ito pleased to note that Vitale was now so out-of-it and in the “zone” of abjectly needing to get his hotshot rocks off NOW, that the fucker forgot to use any racist or homophobic epithets he otherwise clearly would have injected into his pleas.

Playing along, Ito then slowly and teasingly made as if he was going to “go down” on Vitale’s throbbing manhood a few times as Nick pointedly looked down at his own cum-denied crotch and his thickly veined pulsing male member below his proudly profuse pubic bush, and said “Don’t hold back now, man! Go for it! I’m givin’ ya permission this time! I gotta get off!!!”

Ito then opened his mouth wide to slowly and teasingly envelop Vitale’s hot-to-trot Sicilian salami in his hot mouth at last, wetting the horny mobster’s manhood with his saliva and carefully sucking his brash, hunky employer’s huge pulsating cock, while simultaneously “goosing” the handsome mobster’s low-hanging hairy balls, weighing and tickling the surface of the stud’s heavy, cum-filled gonads, teasing the brash Sicilian hood’s cum-churning nut oysters to the max, sucking but slowly and teasingly so as to not allow the bastard to cum as he so desired to be completed as soon as possible, but just enough to leave him at the very edge of a ball-shattering orgasm, only for Ito to then back off.

“Arrghhh!! WHY DID YOU STOP!!!??: I WAS JUST ABOUT TO CUM YOU STUPID MORONIC JAP COCKSUCKER!!! GET ON WITH IT YOU FUCKIN’ MORON!!!” demanded the arrogant mobster.

“Ah-so, oh so honorable employer, Ito will give oh so honorable employer pleasure beyond what oh so honorable employer ever experienced! You will see! Ito knows the art of Japanese pleasure- it is what my cousin Kenji’s American slang dictionary calls “foreplay”- let oh so humble servant Ito give oh so honorable employer everything he so justly deserves! You will see!” promised Ito.

“Well hurry the fuck up! Foreplay shit is all well and good but I haven’t got all day! I gotta get my rocks off! Get on it, asshole!” demanded the arrogant gangster, pointedly gesturing down to his proudly pulsating manhood that needed taking care of by his dutiful servant.

Ito then set about again “going down” on Vitale’s throbbing Sicilian boner to further moans from his employer, who screwed his eyes shut and began wildly and comically thrusting his hips in a desperate effort to shove his manhood further down Ito’s throat, the massage table literally bouncing up and down with the desperate thrusts of the crazed hood’s hips.

It was at this point, as the desperate Vitale lay splayed out on his back with his sexy green eyes screwed shut in anticipation of finally getting his rocks off due to his insistent manly thrusts down Ito’s throat, with the hunky mobster’s arms spread above him and his feet at the foot of the massage table, that cousin Kenji suddenly silently entered the room whereupon Kenji quickly grabbed the hidden wrist restraints from under the top of the padded massage table while Ito did the same with the hidden ankle restraints hidden under the bottom of the massage table in mid-suck, such that the arrogant naked mobster Vitale suddenly found himself well and truly bound by his upraised wrists and spread out ankles to his padded massage table!

Once again, Ito backed off Vitale’s throbbing manhood just at the moment of impending orgasm, leaving the asshole high and dry once again.

A mega-outraged Vitale flung open his gorgeous lady-killer green eyes to assess his unaccustomed position, taking in the fact that, to his abject horror, his “houseboys” had him fuckin’ tied up naked and he knew at least one of them was a fuckin’ homo-faggot!

Predictably, Vitale screamed ‘WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE???? WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU MORON JAP HOUSEBOYS DOING???!!! I’LL HAVE MY GOONS FUCKIN’ CUT OFF YER YELLOW JAP BALLS AND FEED ‘EM TO YA!! LET ME THE FUCK GO OR I’LL HAVE YOU FUCKERS ‘OFFED’ BEFORE YOU CAN SAY SAYONARA, GODDAMNED JAP COCKSUCKING BASTARDS!!!”

“Ah-so, most honorable employer” started Ito, dripping with sarcasm. “GUESS WHAT, ASSHOLE-WE GOT YOU AND WE GOT YOU GOOD, OH NOT SO HONORABLE EMPLOYER!! NOW IT’S YOUR TURN TO SUFFER AS YOU HAVE MADE US SUFFER!! OF COURSE, WE ‘INSCRUTABLE ASIANS’ KNOW A THING OR TWO ABOUT HOW TO TORTURE BY PLEASURE- CAN YOUR SMALL ‘ALL-AMERICAN’ MIND COMPREHEND SUCH A THING?” crowed Ito.

“er-um Whattaya mean “torture”? Er, look, maybe I was a little bit hasty jumping to conclusions and all and maybe I, er, haven’t always treated you Japs too well. But, look, let’s just get on with things- just get me off like I SPECIFICALLY ORDERED, and we’ll just let bygones be bygones, eh? I HAVEN’T GOT ALL DAY AS I SAID BEFORE!!!” replied Vitale.

“AH, BUT WE HAVE, VITALE!! WE’VE GOT ALL DAY AND THEN SOME. YOUR ‘GOONS’ (APTLY NAMED) GUIDO AND VINNY? WELL THEY CALLED THE HOUSE TODAY, OH NOT SO HONORABLE EMPLOYER, AND GUESS WHAT? WE TOLD THEM YOU WANTED PRIVACY TONIGHT AND THE DAY AFTER, AND GUESS WHAT? YOUR THICK-AS-A-PLANK GOONS TOOK OUR MESSAGE AT FACE VALUE AND GRATEFULLY ACCEPTED. SO WE’VE GOT PLENTY OF TIME TO EVEN THE SCORE, ASSHOLE! YOU GOT ANY ERUDITE REPARTEE TO THAT, ASSHOLE? ” replied Ito, to Vitale’s horror.

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Curious Marine Matt’s training continues and grows more intense.
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The Edge – Chapter 2
by Sailing Master
Series: The Edge

When Matt got back to the barracks that night he found that many of the troop had beaten him in and were lounging around chatting and joking. They quizzed Matt on where he had been but he just shrugged his shoulders and said that he had been out walking.

He went over to his bunk, took off his jacket and realised that he could hardly raise his arms; the feeling was like after a really heavy new workout regime! He also realised that he was still hard. His dick was wet with juice; Matt was surprised that there was no stain coming through his jeans. He had to be really careful or the ribbing from last week would start again. He swiftly looked around but relaxed when he saw that Wayne was not in the room.

Also the frustration at not being able to release his feelings built up overnight. Some of the guys had no problem in releasing the pressure, wanking off either in the barrack when the Sarge was not there, or in the showers. Matt had never felt comfortable with this kind of public display and always wore shorts or a jock strap even when wandering through to the latrines. He would have to make sure he released the built up feelings before leaving the store next week. Then sat up – that had been a reflex thought. His body must have made the decision to go back. When Jim had asked the question earlier Matt had suddenly felt unsure. Was this normal? Perhaps he was being stupid. He felt sore and ached.

“Perhaps” he had muttered. Then dragging his eyes off the scene in front of him he had jogged out of the door. He always seemed to be leaving in a hurry!

As the next week progressed the stiffness left as it always did after exercise. He felt good. Looking back he remembered the detail and felt ashamed. He had panicked, really lost control at the end. Surely the pain had not been that bad? Why had he shouted out? Had Jim really said that it was a good performance of had he been joking? Doubts crowded in. He had to go back and see.

On Wednesday he went to see the Sarge and booked the Saturday and Sunday night out, claiming that he was headed back home for the weekend. A letter had come and his mother was not well…..

First thing Saturday morning he shoved a change of clothes into a small backpack. The squad were all out at breakfast and he was alone. He opened the trunk from under his bed and pulled out a pair of boots. Matt had not been sure why he packed them originally, a pair of tall red DM’s that had 14 pairs of lace holes, white laces were already threaded through the bottom sets. Pulling up the legs of the loose camouflage trousers he had slipped on earlier he pulled them on, the first time for years. He remembered wearing them as a youngster when he had tried to join one of the local gangs but had never felt right with the casual violence that group had used. He didn’t mind a fight and could hold his own but that gang had taken things a lot further, seeming to delight in putting the opposing gang members in hospital. Matt had not gone back after they had been raided one Saturday and he had just escaped being pulled in with the others.

He laced them up tight, pulled on a white Tee shirt and his Denim jacket he shouldered his pack and then shot out of the door. Following his earlier route he headed down to the docks and walked, his head spinning with conflict – desire for the attention, the excitement and the promise of the future against caution and a little fear. Then he stopped, pulled his shoulders back and made his mind up. He was going through with it. Jogging the rest of the way, his boots thumping on the road he pushed at the door. It was locked! He checked his watch; he was early!

He saw a flash of movement through the spy-glass and heard the door locks rattle and it opened. Jim looked out and then opened the door wide. His thick arm shot out and he grabbed Matt by the front of his jacket. He yanked Matt through the door and slammed it shut. He towed Matt through the store and into the big back room then sat him down with a jerk onto the padded bench.

“Decision time.” he said. ‘No-one runs away from me like that”. Matt could see that Jim was annoyed. Shaking Matt by the jacket he went on “If you want my time for training then you need to earn it. You need to start paying your way in the store.”

“What do you mean?” asked Matt.

“Think about the cellar demo 3 weeks ago. Are you ready to walk out in front of that crowd naked? You need to be used to being the focus of attention, used to people seeing you as an object not a marine or a person.”

Matt realised Jim was right – the thought of walking out in front of any crowd naked but for some leather straps was alien to him. In front of the squad was even worse. He had a lot to learn and get used to.

“I told the Sarge that I was out of town till Monday morning” he said, “so yes I’m up for it. One year, every weekend. You get me ready and I’ll work in the store.”

Then another thought struck him – “But I cant, someone might recognise me” he said shaking his head from side to side. Jim grinned, “Not if they can’t see your face” he said. Matt thought back – no, the guys except Jess he had seen both times had either being wearing a hood or had their faces hidden. Perhaps that was not a coincidence.

“You haven’t got any tattoos or marks have you?” said Jim. ‘Nothing to make you stand out? Lets get started now! Strip but leave the boots on, they look good!”

Releasing the front of Matt’s jacket he headed back through into the store.

The voice, firm and commanding like his Sarge had Matt pulling off his jacket straight away. He slipped his tee shirt over his head and then looked down at this camo pants – they should go over the boots he thought, undid the wide webbing belt and yanked them down. Jim’s head appeared round the door “Get those shorts off and wriggle into these” he said and lobbed a pair of leather shorts at Matt who shot out a hand and caught them. They were heavy and had straps round the legs and zips down the front – in fact they were the same ones worn by the boy 2 weeks ago! He worked his boots through the legs and began to pull them up. They were tight and he just got them up around his sturdy thighs. Then he saw the hole at the front and there was a big flap of leather hanging down, zips up each side. His tackle obviously had to go through the hole and hang out at the front. Trouble is it had leapt to attention as he was pulling the tight pants up his legs. He sat down and began to focus his mind and squeeze his dick, willing it to go down. After a couple of minutes pressing hard he felt the pressure go and his dick drooped. He pushed his balls through first, squeezing them past the circle of leather one after the other then stuffed his flaccid dick through. That done he could pull them up the last bit and felt the tight leather form itself around his butt. Jim came back in and saw how far he had got. He pulled the straps tight around Matt’s thighs and one after the other buckled them up. He took a pair of small padlocks from his pocket and slipped them through a locking post and snapped them shut.

“That’s to keep busy hands out” he said. “Lets get you in place and see how you handle standing for a while. There’s no one in yet apart from Jess and he’s looking forward to it!”

Matt went through the door and saw Jess standing near his counter with a wide grin on his face. “Didn’t take you long to join the team! You’ll not run out of the door this afternoon” he said and laughed.

Jim led him over to a wooden pillar and Matt realised that it was where the boy had been standing 2 weeks ago, he was going to be set up the same way!

As they went by the rack of leather restraints Jim pulled down a complex set of belts in wide, black leather. “Stand still” he said and stood Matt near a mirrored wall at the back of the store. Matt could see him undo the buckle on a wide collar and then felt it placed around his neck. It tightened but not too far and then Jim threaded the tail through the buckle and strapped it closed. As before he pulled a padlock from his pocket and snapped it shut. Matt could then feel the rest of the straps hanging down his back. Jim then grabbed his left arm and pulled it behind his back and pressed his wrist into a leather cuff. Not too bad thought Matt, it was down by his waist. The other hand followed and both were tightly strapped in. Leading Matt over to the post Jim felt round his back and pulled down a zip that opened Matt’s arse to the air. “This is to keep you still” He pushed Matt back and he felt a cold piece of steel go between his legs into the shorts. Jim came back around the front and reached down. He closed his big hand around Matt’s package and yanked it upwards, he then squeezed the end of the steel bar through the hole in front of the shorts. It had a round, thick loop of steel on the end. Jim pulled out a key from his pocket and undid a screw on one side. The front of the ring pivoted open. He began to massage Matt’s balls, pulling them down by ringing the sack with his thumb and forefinger and pulling downwards. This was new to Matt, and he began to squirm.

“You will get used to this” Jim said. “Remember what you want, your hero had his balls through something like this didn’t he?”

Matt thought back – yes indeed he remembered the guys balls held down by a steel ring ready for their treatment. He relaxed and began to enjoy the sensation as Jim stretched the ballsack then pushed it back against the back of the ring and swung the front shut. It was a tight fit and Matt could feel the steady wrench downwards on his balls. Looking up he realised that he was still facing the mirror and could see what was going on. Jim tightened the bolt and stepped back, then lifted the flap of leather that had been hanging down and pulled up the zips on each side. As the leather pouch tightened over Matt’s now stiffening dick he roughly pushed it into place and carried on zipping all the way up. The tops of the zips had loops of leather at the ends. A belt was then slipped through the loops from both sides and Jim yanked, pulling it tight around Matt’s hard, muscular waist. He slipped both ends of the belt over a steel post at the front of the shorts and out came another padlock.

Jess walked over carrying an old-fashioned leg iron. It was about 18” wide and with a loop on each end. He opened both ends on hinges and placed one around Matt’s right boot. That side swung shut and Jess then pulled Matt’s left leg away and fitted it into the other loop. That too swung shut and Jess tightened up a nut in the centre clamping them together. He grinned at Matt again “Told you that you were not running out today” he said.

Matt felt a whole series of new feelings. He was standing, legs clamped about 18 inches apart by a steel bar around his tightly laced high boots, tight leather shorts cool on his skin. The steel bar passed between his legs and the thick ring pulled down hard on his balls. His dick was crushed upwards into the pouch on the front of the shorts. To cap it all his hands were locked behind his back and he could feel the weight of his arms starting to pull on his neck.

He looked at himself in the mirror and felt his caged dick get even harder. He could see the way the position emphasised his physique. Shoulders back, his muscular chest was pushed out. His sixpack rippled down into the black shorts. The way his legs were spread helped to make the muscles in his thighs and calves stand out. Then he noticed that his tits were hard and stood out, “Never felt that before” he thought. A thought passed his mind “My face!” he said turning to Jim.

Jim walked over to the shelf that held a wide range of leather and rubber hoods. He turned to Mat and asked “You ever worn one of these?”

Matt shook his head – how would he have done that he thought? I had not even been here till 2 weeks ago!

“I’ll leave you some light then” said Jim and lifted one down. The face of the hood was rigid leather and was studded with steel. Matt could see where the eyes would be by panels of leather with small holes, there was a rigid nose with a pair of grommets underneath that would let air through and a zip across below that where the mouth would be. It had laces down the back and also a thick strap that went from the top of the head down the back to a collar with three straps on each side that buckled shut.

“It’s called a Sci Fi Hood” said Jim, “supposed to be scary! You’ll love it”.

He loosened the lacing and pulled it over Matt’s head, working it down till suddenly he could feel it slip into place over his face and he could see through panels of small holes in front of each eye. He felt the lacings begin to tighten and the hood gripped his head more and more. As the laces were tightened Matt felt the sound level drop from outside but could suddenly hear his own breathing. Then his head was moved to and fro as the buckles on each side were closed pulling the leather tight around his head and finally he felt the last strap closed around his neck, pushing his head even higher as the collar fitted over the one he was already wearing.

“You OK?” he heard. It was muffled but clear. Looking in the mirror through the pinhole eye covers he saw Jim’s head close to his. He pushed his jaw down and said, “Yes, I can breathe fine and talk”.

“Hey, not for long!” answered Jim and pulled the zip across his mouth. As it closed the slight gap Matt felt his jaw pulled up and his mouth closed. Then he saw in the mirror another padlock! This one went through the end of the zip over his mouth and through a steel loop on the side of the hood.

“Don’t want just anyone talking with you do we?” said Jim and laughed. “Given enough encouragement you might give too much away. Don’t worry, you will be getting good training today as well as just standing around”.

Matt wondered what he meant then looked to one side and saw the display racks around him. They were full of various clamps and chains. Also what looked like cloths pegs but in black. He could not really see what they were for.

He watched Jim walk around him, obviously enjoying the view. Then he felt a wrench and his hands were pulled up his back! “Fuck, not his shoulders again!” Higher and higher they went until he could feel his shoulder blades with his left fingers. “Ahhh” he said, which came out more like ‘MMmmmm!”

“Right” said Jim. “Your job today is to keep the customers happy for the day. They will want to try a few things out before they buy. Some of them just like to try the stock out and see how much they can make you squirm. Often the stronger your reaction the more chance they will buy it! You get two kinds of pain today, first your arms like last week. You will find the stress will build nicely. It’s not as intense as last time but you will be here much longer and you don’t get to choose when it stops. However the customers will take your mind off it.

Distraction is a key thing to learn. With that you can go much closer to the edge. We are going to use that a lot.”

“Jess will keep a general eye out. If you are in real trouble put your toes together! He will ignore you waving your head around, as you will do a lot of that. Doors open in 5 minutes”.

Matt was stumped. What had he done now! He remembered the warm-up sessions he had seen the boy take last week. He had not seen the rest of the day as he lay on the table in his hogtie!

He explored what he could move and how much. He lifted one foot. It came up about 2 inches before the ankle bar started to twist and dig into his leg through his boots. He shuffled his feet around to get his toes together; yes he could do that. Looking in the mirror he saw Jess looking at him and quickly moved them back straight. Jess nodded.

With his balls clamped to the post no way could he move forward or backwards. He could bend over but that made his arms pull even more. That was it!

It was midday. Last week he had left as the sun set and the store was starting to fill. How long was he going to be here!

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Intrigued and strangely aroused by the display at the gay bondage club, a young Marine with something to prove reluctantly decides he will give it a try. But first he needs some training.
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The Edge – Chapter 1
by Sailing Master
Series: The Edge

Introduction

Matt looked at his squad mates. There was a look of awe and respect on their faces. In front of them was a guy, hanging by thick muscled arms from a beam across the ceiling of the cellar. His head was down on his chest and sweat poured down his body.

Around his wrists and hands were leather binders, secured by multiple straps and padlocks. The steel suspension rings on his palms were padlocked to the beam. Round his ankles were another set of straps but they were not tied off and his feet were loose.

The bunched muscles of his back, from his neck to his lower rib cage, was shining red with occasional purple stripes. His butt, clenched and hard, shone in a similar colour. Red and purple stripes ran down the sides of his chest and thighs. The sweat shone in strong lighting, focused on him in an otherwise darkened room.
His balls hung low between his legs, held down by a steel band. They, too, were red and flushed. A chain was padlocked around his neck.

He was breathing hard after nearly an hour of whipping from a relay of leather-clad men. It had started with leather strap on his butt. This had made him squirm and his butt flush with a pink glow. A trio of video cameras was trained on the scene capturing every moment. The punishment had moved to his back as a heavy flogger was laid over his shoulder muscles. He had begun to heave in his bonds but had kept silent for what had seemed like an age.

Finally he had uttered a low groan and began to grunt and shout as the beating intensified.
Alternating between his butt and his back the pressure was increased and he began to sway, jerk and shout with the force of the impacts.

At regular intervals the leader of the group had called a halt and – putting his head next to the guys ear had asked for a ‘stop’ word. There had been no response, just heavy breathing and muttered swear works and the lashing had continued.

After one of these breaks instead of starting again on the red and glowing back or striped butt they had worked his balls. A wooden strap, covered with leather, tapped against the hanging globes, steadily and with a regular pace. The impact was slowly increased until the hanging guy was jerking and shouting with each impact. He pulled himself up with bulging muscles, his biceps standing out, and the shook himself, trying to wrench free from the fetters.

After 5 minutes it stopped and the whacker moved back to his butt.

Matt had gone to the club after one of his marine squad mates had told them about an open night at the leather club by the harbour. The guy had seen a poster in a harbour bar and they had all heard about the place before. With a lot of joking and ribbing at each other they had gone to see what was going on.

Dressed in jeans, white Tee shirts with leather jackets and their regular boots they had been admitted. There was a bar in the first room. The bartender, himself dressed in a leather harness and chaps looked them over and joked ‘Must be your first time lads!’

He passed them a bottle each of Bud and pointed them down a passageway. They stood out in the crowd; fit, heavily built with buzz cuts they drew admiring looks and shouts of invitation from many as they had strolled through the rooms looking on at the scenes being played out in dark corners and back rooms.

They saw all sorts of new sights, men in bondage, sex of many kinds and guys in ecstasy from both pain and pleasure.

There was a crowd in the end room and a there was a feeling of expectation and excitement. All being over 6’ they stood at the back and looked over the gathering crowd; intrigued to see what would happen next. It was a real mix of types. Young fit guys wearing leather harnesses or tight leather or rubber clothes. Big Bears in bike gear, some in denim or wearing neoprene. There was one figure in the corner standing dressed in a straight jacket over leather shorts. Apart from a ball gag his head was free and he was looking on with obvious interest.

The feeling of a stage set had been enhanced by the lights shining down and into the focus had walked a naked man. He was about 25 years old and weighed in about 200lbs of muscle and bone. Around his wrists and hands were strapped strong leather restraints. Four buckles held them tightly clamped, he had a pair of strong leather cuffs around his ankles, padlocked on and with a thick steel ‘D’ ring on each side. He had stood quietly and looked at the crowd. Then he climbed onto a wooden step and, stretching onto his toes he held his arms up. Padlocks were snapped shut by a couple of tough guys dressed in leather chaps and vests. The locks clamped his wrists directly to a thick wooden beam. The step was pulled away so that he hung, swaying and ready.

A voice came over the PA system that explained, this was the annual club challenge. There was $1000 prize for anyone who would step up and volunteer for the same punishment about to be given.

Everyone waited but no one stepped forward.

Chapter 1

Being a Marine was all Matt had ever wanted. Naturally athletic and tough from a life of sport and the constant use of the local gym he had joined up at 18. The camaraderie of the squad had drawn him in and he had thrown everything into building his physique and developing his stamina. However he always felt that he was separate from the rest of the squad. Not fully accepted and never part of the core of joking, relaxed guys who set the pace.

As he lay on his bunk that night he could not get the vision of the awed expressions of his squad mates from his mind. They had looked on at the courage and resilience that the man at the club had shown. All the way back to the base there had been comments about the way he had taken his punishment, knowing what was in store and facing it with courage. Matt wondered at the guy’s pain threshold. Being a Marine had made him accustomed to the day-to-day aches of exercise and the gym, the knocks and injuries of the combat training. However he knew that he would not have been able to take what had been handed out tonight without calling for a halt.

As he lay he ran his hand down over his belly, feeling the ridged muscles. Carrying on down he found his dick standing out hard. Strange – he had been stiff all evening since watching earlier.

The next day was a Saturday and he had a day pass. Waking early before the rest of the guys awoke he dressed in casual jeans, laced up his boots and slipped on his jacket. It was time for a break; time to spend some time on his own and think about the previous day.

Matt took the bus down to the harbour and walked for several hours. No one bothered him. The locals had more sense, watching him as he strode down the quay deep in thought, long powerful legs striding out from his slim hips, his wide shoulders swinging.

After a couple of hours he realised that he was back in the same part of town they have been to the previous night. The club was in front of him across the street and he saw that the ground floor of the building was a shop front, blacked out. Above it was a neon sign flashing ‘Private shop’.

Matt well knew what this meant – he had been into similar places for magazines like many a healthy young lad. He felt tense and knew that he needed the release of a good jerk-off session to relax and lose the hard-on that was still making his dick stand out in his jeans. Checking his watch he realised that it was just afternoon and the lights were on inside. Pushing through the door he stopped, completely taken aback by what he saw.

This was no ordinary, tacky space with racks of curled up magazines. A huge open warehouse opened in front of him. It was full of racks of things that Matt had only heard of, and some that he had to guess. Shelves full of leather gear; trousers, shirts, jackets and boots. A wall covered in bondage equipment – leather belts, straps, a shelf with various hoods made of rubber or leather. Another section with what looked like the worlds biggest range of whips and floggers was opposite another rack holding rubber dildos, all different sizes. Some of them made his eyes stand out and he wondered if they were for real!

There was a fit looking guy behind a counter by the door who was working on a computer. He looked up, said “Hi, can I help with anything?” It was the barman from the night before. He was still dressed in a leather harness showing off a strong muscular chest but this time it was matched by a thick leather collar and tight jeans. He could see that Matt was fazed and did not know what to say.

“My name’s Jess, have a look around and just call if you need help!”

Matt looked away, dropping eye contact and walked into the store. He stopped short, not able to believe his eyes. There was a display of gear on what Matt had assumed was a mannequin. It moved. It was a boy. He was wearing a tight pair of shorts; straps ran around the legs with small padlocks at each side. The top of the shorts was circled by another belt that captured loops from the top of zips that ran down each side of the front. This belt, too, was padlocked. The boy’s chest was pulled back, showing off his well-formed pair of pecs crowned by thick rings through his nipples.

His arms were bent high behind his back, held in leather cuffs that were buckled to a strap that dropped from the back of a thick leather collar. It was obvious from the height of his wrists that it was not a comfortable position.

However Matt could not see his face. The boy’s head was completely covered by a thick leather hood that shaped itself to his face, held tight by a lacing up the back. A piece of leather was buckled over the boy’s mouth and Matt could see that his jaw was wedged open and must be filled with a gag. There were no eyeholes and two narrow tubes stuck out from the nose for about 6 inches. Matt could hear the air flowing through as the boy breathed. He was standing against a post and a steel bar stuck out from this and disappeared between the boy’s legs, into his shorts through a zipped opening. Matt realised that this was attached to his balls holding him still. His legs were held apart. His boots, laced high up his calves with neat strips of yellow cord, were clamped a foot apart by a rigid manacle made from a flat steel bar, loops hinged around the ankles were bolted. Those legs weren’t going anywhere!

Jess behind the counter grinned at him.

“Yeah, he’s one of our regular Saturday boys; he’ll be around all day! Someone will have some fun with him later!”

Matt felt himself blush; he went red to the roots of his Marine cut hair. He was embarrassed; he had not done that for years!

He turned and almost ran out of the store. Calling his thanks he pushed through the door and found he was breathing heavily. He really ran. He kept running. Pushing himself he was back at the base in 40 minutes. Panting and sweating he pushed into the bunkhouse. It was empty as the rest of the platoon was out enjoying their Saturday afternoons. Going into the latrines he shed his jacket and splashed water onto his face. His eyes looked back at him in the mirror; there was an expression there he had never seen before. His eyes were bright and he was flushed. Then he lay on his bunk, put his head on the pillow and let his mind drift. So many new experiences; new feelings. He was so excited.

His dick would not stop standing up, strong and hard, pulling against his jeans. He loosened his wide belt and feverishly he wrenched down his jeans pushing them down his legs. Immediately his dick bounced up against his belly. Almost with a will of it’s own his hand moved down and stroked the hard pillar. He rubbed it and felt the waves of pleasure spark and flow. Then he began to beat his cock. Up and down. His mind flashed back to the store and he pictured again the boy standing, tightly restrained and obviously uncomfortable. Hard and fast. Almost immediately he felt his body focus and it seemed like the very centre of his being exploded. His belly muscles spasmed. His butt seemed to clamp together. He felt a great surge through his penis, more than he’d ever felt before. It was incredible. The ‘cum’ spurted out in a great arc and landed on his face. He felt it surge through his urethra, a glorious feeling entirely new to him. Shocked and disconcerted he licked his lips and, for the first time, tasted the salty richness of a man’s juice – his own….

He heard a laugh.

Opening his eyes he saw Wayne. Tough, loud and always the centre of things Wayne was his worst nightmare. Wayne was about 6’4” tall, wide shoulders with muscle showing through the neck of his shirt. A strong rib cage pulled into a narrow, slim waist and hips. He was standing with his arms crossed in front of his chest looking at Matt with a wide grin on his face.

“Now I know why you are such a loner! You don’t need help to have fun.”

Matt hated himself. Why could he not just relax and laugh it off?

It was Wayne who had seen the advert for the club the previous night and he who had led the group down into the cellar bar. He had told the group about this place, reading from the flyer he was holding and ribbing the rest of the guys – “ Come on! Let’s go see what this is all about” he had shouted. Over the next couple of days the story spread and Matt was ribbed about the pressure needed to spray cum that far. Guys asked: “How long had it been between cumming?” Barrack room doctors called over to him saying how bad it was for a guy to leave things so long that the pressure became dangerous. “Was he insured?”

The worst week of his life eventually passed and the attention of the group moved on. He felt alienated from the group, very alone amongst this crowd of tough ribald marines.

He began to think. He remembered again the expressions on his team’s faces at the guy in the club. The way they had spoken of him. Even with their laughter and jokes about the rest of the sights they had seen, the guy, hanging there and taking everything with strength and courage had wrenched their attention and was discussed again and again between bunks in the night. Matt began to long for the kind of approbation that this guy was getting. It would make him really part of the corps. It would be like being a legend.

But he knew he could not do it. The beating that the guy had taken, without calling for it to stop, was much too much. After a week of being the butt of the jokes he again wanted time to himself on Saturday. Pulling on his jeans and boots he thought about the shop and the boy, standing for what might have been all day with his arms stretched back; no sight or sound would have got through that hood. He must have had a very strange and intense experience. Matt slipped on a white Tee shirt and shrugged into his old denim jacket then set off back down to the docks.

Without actually making any actual decision his legs took him through the door and back into the wide, high warehouse space.

The same guy was on the counter and he grinned as he recognised Matt.

“Hi, staying for a little longer this time?’ he asked. “Let me show you around”.

Jess left the desk and walked over to the racks of gear. Matt drifted after him without saying anything. Jess showed him the clothing area, leather and rubber ranging from briefs through to full suits. Matt noticed a rack of straight jackets and felt his dick jump in his trouser. Then a wall covered in restraints for wrists, ankles. Wide leather collars. Networks of straps that were obviously harness like the one Jess was wearing.

Then Jess showed him a wall covered with every type of whip, paddle, strap. They were made from leather, wood, even an aluminium paddle. Matt looked around, searching for the boy. Would he be here today? Surely it had sounded like he was a regular last week.

Then he saw him. He wasn’t sure it was the same guy. He was strapped down onto a leather topped wooden stand. His chest and belly lay on a leather-covered bench, bent at the hips he was kneeling on a lower section of bench. There were leather straps around his boots, thighs, waist and around his shoulders. His arms were on another pair of leather-covered rests and were clamped down with more straps around his forearms and wrists. His face was buried into a padded hole in the bench, held there by another strap around the back of his neck. He was wearing a muzzle.

He was not going anywhere!

A sign stood on the top of the racks “Try before you buy!” and an arrow pointing straight at the bound boy.
Jess walked over and ran his hand down the boy’s back, round the smooth slim waist and then, with both hands he rubbed hard at the tight bubble butt sticking up.

“Always makes for a good sales day when we have the demo stand available” he said. He began slapping the tight globes of the boy’s butt muscles; increasing the pace and force slowly till the boy was jerking in rhythm to the strokes.

“Got to keep him warm and ready, we should get some customers in soon!”

Moving away he took Matt by the elbow and led him back across to the area with banks of leather and rubber clothing. “Do you see anything you like? Feel free to try it on for size. You’re in great shape, most of this should fit you well and look great!”

Matt found his voice “No. It’s not like that” he stammered. “I came in to ask about the guy in the cellar last week”. He flushed again, hung his head and breathed deeply. This was it – he had to know.

“How did he get like that? How could he take that flogging without calling a halt?

Jess stopped and looked at Matt, then realised what he was talking about…

“Ah – the challenge in the club” he said, and then grinned. That’s Chad. He’s been doing that for 3 years now and no one has yet come forward. Not surprising really. Chad has been in training for that every week for the last few years and he really get’s off on the pain.

Matt blurted out “I need to learn. I need to do that next time. I need to be the focus of that crowd.”

Jess took a step back and looked Matt up and down. “You serious?” Matt nodded and then looked up into Jess’s eyes. “The guys in the squad need to see that I am as tough as the guy last week”

Jess grinned and nodded and walked over to a door at the back. Sticking his head through he shouted, “Jim, you got a minute?”

A deep voice came echoing down the stairs “Down in 5 minutes”.

Jess led Matt back to the racks of paddles and whips near the flogging bench and said “Try a few of these out while you wait for Jim. He owns the place and you need to talk with him”. Leaving Matt he moved back to his counter.

Matt looked at the racks and identified a wide leather covered wooden paddle. It was one of the many used the previous week in the cellars. Picking it up he weighed it in his hands and then began to tap his open left palm.
“I meant try them on the boy, not yourself!” Jess called.

Moving over to the bench Matt began to swing the paddle getting the feel of it. Then he swallowed a couple of times and began to tap the hard butt that was offered up in front of him.

“Harder!” he heard.

Working one side then the other he increased the power behind his stroke and the boy began to wriggle in his bonds.

Un-noticed behind him a tall, heavily built man had come down into the store and was talking quietly with Jess at the counter. He walked over to Matt and stood behind him. He was dressed in a tight leather Polo shirt and leather Jeans. They emphasised the heavy musculature, his thick shoulders, the arms knotted with muscle and his forearms that were corded and hard.

He watched for a while, sizing Matt up and liking what he saw. A tall, very fit young guy, marine buzz haircut in jeans and denim jacket who was starting to swing the paddle harder as he got used to the sound and feel of the impact.

“Keep going” he said. Matt jumped and dropped his hand. “Keep the rhythm and build the intensity over time.” Matt raised his arm again and started swinging again. He heard a muffled moan from the muzzled head. “Ignore that” said the big guy. “It’s irrelevant but does tell you that the effect is working”.

“The idea is to slowly build the pain level. By doing that you can get to a level that is well above what people expect.”

Matt turned and said – “That is what I was asking the other guy. How can I learn? I need to be ready for next year in the cellar”.

Jim looked into Matt’s eyes and said “If you’ve got the courage we sure can help! It will take your spare time for the next year”.

“I can do Saturday through the day and the night” answered Matt. “We are stationed as guards to the academy across town, it’s closed up at the weekend so we get regular time off.”

“Well lets see about the courage and check what you can take now” said Jim. “Meanwhile we need to just finish with the boy, you can’t leave a job half done.”

He went over to the racks and picked up a flogger. A thick handle on a swivel fitted into his large hand and 10 or 15 strips of leather dangled down from his fist.

He began to wheel it over his shoulders in a circular motion then letting it land on the boy’s shoulders. The muscles in the boy’s back, arms and legs went tense. Jim slowly increased the tempo and began to use the full force of his arm as he moved the impact point across the shoulders and upper back.

The boy began to moan and wriggle but could do nothing about it. The muzzle stopped any words from coming out. His back began to turn first pink and then a deeper red.

After about 5 minutes Jim stopped and then rubbed his large hands over the boys back.

“That’s got him warmed up and ready for the next customer!”

A long loud moan came from the muzzled mouth and Jim laughed.

Jim put his arm over Matt’s shoulders and led him over to the door at the back of the store. On the way he lifted a heavy piece of leather down from a rack, it was covered in straps and had two rows of rings down one side with lacing through it.

He led Matt into another large room. It was full of all kinds of equipment, benches, slings, pillars. A staircase led downstairs to the cellars Matt had been in last week.

Brick walls contrasted with a concrete floor that had a large drain in the centre.

“There’s two kinds of pain” he said. “There’s fast pain like we were giving the boy out front and slow pain that can build over time in the muscles. How you handle it is a combination of your pain threshold and mental attitude. How strong the mind is and how it fights. Lets see what your starting point is. Slip your jacket off “

Matt swallowed. This was going fast. Taking the plunge he slipped off his denim jacket and laid it onto a bench beside him. Jim picked up the heavy black leather “This is a single arm binder. It holds your arms together behind your back. Sounds simple Huh?”

He turned Matt around and pulled his arms behind his back slipping them into the leather binder. Matt felt his hands slide down through the cool leather tube and then had to wriggle them past a narrow part.

“Clamp your fingers together” said Jim. Matt put his hands together and linked his fingers, then felt a strap tighten around his wrists. Then his arms were pulled together and he felt strain in his shoulders. Steadily the pressure increased and he felt his forearms getting closer as he heard the laced being pulled tighter.

“Just get the straps tight first” said Jim and Matt felt the pressure harden around his upper arms. Then he felt and heard the laces being pulled steadily tighter again. Two straps were led over his shoulders and Jim crossed them over his chest and buckled them back onto the lower side of the binder.

“That stops you getting out!” he said and chuckled.

“Shit” thought Matt, this is really happening! His chest was stretched tight, he felt his nipples harden and rub against his Tee shirt. His shoulders were tight back.

Jim led him over to a leather-covered table. “Bend over and lie on the table” he said. Matt swallowed and did as he was told. He felt his boots being lifted and then a tightness around his ankles. He realised that a pair of wide cuffs were being strapped on over his boots. Then he felt one boot being pulled back towards his hands and heard the snap of a padlock. Then the other followed. Another padlock snapped.

He was hog-tied! His boots were shackled to the end of his arms. His back was slightly arched.

As Jim let go of his boots he felt the pressure on his shoulders increase. He twisted his head around and looked at Jim who was grinning as he surveyed the immobilised marine.

“So” he said, “now we test both your mind and your tolerance levels. You need to tell me when you’ve had enough. But at that point I will leave you another hour, so you need to imagine how you will feel and then call the shots on how long you can take it. By the way the boy out in the store can do this all night! I’ll be back in an hour or so.”

Matt lay and began to explore the feelings coming from his body.

His shoulders were pulled way back, his chest was tight and the muscles stretched. His upper arms were held wrenched together by the top strap around his biceps. His elbows were nearly touching as another strap around his forearms was pulling them hard.

The tightness in his chest was being enhanced by the way his body was arching from the pull on his legs. His belly was tight.

This was no joke!

He was already aching and uncomfortable. How long had Jim said? The boy could take this all night? How long could he do this?

Then he realised – it really was a test. If he flunked it then he had no chance of getting the training and experience he needed for next year. He set his teeth. He would show this Jim guy, he was a marine and no wimp!

After a short time the tightness in his shoulders started to build. They started to burn and stabbing pains began to run across his chest and into his shoulder joints. “Fuck” What on earth was he doing. Why was he here!

He focused his mind, putting an image of the guy hanging from his bonds and taking slice after slice of the flogging. “That’s what it’s all about” he said to himself.

Time passed and the stress in his shoulders built. It became real pain. It throbbed across his neck and into the tops of his arms. Looking around he could not see a clock or any sign of how much time had passed.

He began to explore how much he could relieve the tension. By lifting his feet and arching his back he could reduce the pressure on his arms, but not for long. His back muscles would give out and his feet, weighed by the heavy boots would drop and the full pressure came back into his arms. He could wriggle from side to side, taking more pressure on one side and then the other. He began to rotate through the movements, holding each one for as long as possible.

After what seemed like hours he heard the door open Jim walked in front of him.

“Well that’s your first hour” he said. “Remember – when you tell me you’ve had enough you get another hour just like that one!” Matt swore at him, telling Jim to “Fuck off and leave me be!”.

Jim laughed. “OK I will be back in another hour”.

Matt felt his heart began to thump. Another hour – he would have to take it! No way would he admit this was too much for him.

His shoulders began to spasm into cramps. He had to grit his teeth to stop himself from calling out and making this stop! He felt his mind begin to float. The pain became general from shoulders right across his chest. His elbows were sending shafts of pain back up his arms. Even his knees were starting to fight back. He closed his eyes and began to think of his squad mates. What they would say when he walked up to the front next year? He kept pushing that image to the front of his mind.

Then he felt his dick harden. What was this? Why was he feeling that way? Then he remembered the orgasm the previous week – could he do that again, here, now? As he writhed on the table the movement kept rubbing his engorged cock and sent wild signals back to his brain. Then suddenly he realised that if he came now the pain might get worse, he new that the feelings that were coming from his groin were part of what was keeping him going.

Suddenly he was wrenched back from his internal world as he felt someone rubbing his shoulders and running their hands over his chest. He opened his eyes and there was Jim.

‘Had enough yet?” he said.

Matt shook his head, turned away and closed his eyes again. Jim was impressed. This kid was serious. By this time most guys had been weeping and calling for release. It was now 2 hours down the line and no sign of giving in!
Matt felt tears starting to form in his eyes. He tried to brush them away by rubbing his face into the leather of the table. It was no good. He was near the end. Had he done enough? Had he passed the test? He didn’t know. His mind started to float.

When he next felt Jim rubbing his arms he opened his mouth to shout out for release and then doubt ran through his mind – all night? Did Jim really mean that the boy could do this all night? How could he be taken seriously if he gave in now? No. He would hold out.

Turning away again he began to pull his arms, yanking them back to release some of this damnable pressure.
Jim was astounded but left him to it. Then Matt suddenly remembered – after he gave up he would have to take another hour! SHIT! Panic struck and he started to writhe to and fro. He opened his mouth and shouted – ‘Come back! Let me out of here now!” Jim stopped, turned back and walked round in front of Matt. He looked at the young man in front of him – he was twisting and turning and shouting, clearly now over the edge and out of control, his face was writhing with the pain of his arms. Tears were streaming down his cheeks.

God – he loved his life!

“Remember, I said another hour then I let you out. But I will let your legs down”.

He pulled a ring of keys from his pocket and went round and opened the padlocks holding Matt’s boots to the ring at the end of the arm binder. As his legs went straight Matt felt his back muscles cramp together. A new pain!
It hardly seemed to help. His shoulders were raging at him. He drifted.

Then he felt a pull on the strap round his biceps – it was being tightened! He began to squirm and shout.
He heard Jim’s voice – “Stop it, trust me”. Then the pressure reduced. He heard and felt the lacing being undone. The strap around his forearms went slack.

PAIN

Blood was flowing back through his muscles and into his shoulders. This was worst of all! He felt the big hands massage the muscles around his neck. Then his hands were loose and he felt the binder being pulled off. It was over but had he passed the test? Was he a wimp or a man!

He opened his eyes to see Jim. “Lie on your back and I will give you a massage” he said. Matt rolled over, pulling his shoulders forwards against the tightness across his back and felt the strong hands move over his arms, chest and shoulders helping the blood surge back. He gritted his teeth and more tears sprang from his eyes. He felt ashamed. Then elated as he heard Jim speak.

“You did well” – had he heard that right? “Yes” said Jim. “Very well for a first time – we might be able to get you ready in a year.”

Matt lay back and closed his eyes. His shoulders burned and he felt a flush as the words sank in. He opened his eyes and looked around. Jim had gone. He slid off the table had began to swing his arms around, wheeling them from side to side to get the blood moving better. He tried a few of his morning exercises, press-ups with first both arms and then 10 each with one arm only. He felt the usual burn but it helped to get the blood flowing. After 10 minutes he felt able to move and, slipping his jacket over his shoulders headed out of the door into the main store area.

Then it struck him – it was dark outside! How long had he been lying there on that table? There were about 20 people, mainly guys but also some girls wandering around the big space fingering the merchandise. Someone was more than fingering the boy – he was still on the bench strapped down. The cheeks of his backside were now glowing red and there were steaks across from a cane. A biker in full leather gear was working away by the boy’s butt. Matt was intrigued and moved over to see better. The biker was slowly pushing a large butt plug into his arse. It had a wide body that narrowed to a thin neck with a flat round plate at the end. Steadily, pushing and turning it the biker worked it in further and further. Suddenly the boy gave a loud shout and the butt plug slid in past his sphincter.

Matt felt a hand on his arm and turned to see Jim.

“Well – are you coming back?” he asked.

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A group of Marines sneak into a gay bondage club and watch an impressive display of pain endurance. Will anyone else be up to the challenge?
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The Edge – Intro
by Sailing Master
Series: The Edge

Introduction

Matt looked at his squad mates. There was a look of awe and respect on their faces. In front of them was a guy, hanging by thick muscled arms from a beam across the ceiling of the cellar. His head was down on his chest and sweat poured down his body.

Around his wrists and hands were leather binders, secured by multiple straps and padlocks. The steel suspension rings on his palms were padlocked to the beam. Round his ankles were another set of straps but they were not tied off and his feet were loose.

The bunched muscles of his back, from his neck to his lower rib cage, was shining red with occasional purple stripes. His butt, clenched and hard, shone in a similar colour. Red and purple stripes ran down the sides of his chest and thighs. The sweat shone in strong lighting, focused on him in an otherwise darkened room.

His balls hung low between his legs, held down by a steel band. They, too, were red and flushed. A chain was padlocked around his neck.

He was breathing hard after nearly an hour of whipping from a relay of leather-clad men. It had started with leather strap on his butt. This had made him squirm and his butt flush with a pink glow. A trio of video cameras was trained on the scene capturing every moment. The punishment had moved to his back as a heavy flogger was laid over his shoulder muscles. He had begun to heave in his bonds but had kept silent for what had seemed like an age.

Finally he had uttered a low groan and began to grunt and shout as the beating intensified.
Alternating between his butt and his back the pressure was increased and he began to sway, jerk and shout with the force of the impacts.

At regular intervals the leader of the group had called a halt and – putting his head next to the guys ear had asked for a ‘stop’ word. There had been no response, just heavy breathing and muttered swear works and the lashing had continued.

After one of these breaks instead of starting again on the red and glowing back or striped butt they had worked his balls. A wooden strap, covered with leather, tapped against the hanging globes, steadily and with a regular pace. The impact was slowly increased until the hanging guy was jerking and shouting with each impact. He pulled himself up with bulging muscles, his biceps standing out, and the shook himself, trying to wrench free from the fetters.

After 5 minutes it stopped and the whacker moved back to his butt.

Matt had gone to the club after one of his marine squad mates had told them about an open night at the leather club by the harbour. The guy had seen a poster in a harbour bar and they had all heard about the place before. With a lot of joking and ribbing at each other they had gone to see what was going on.

Dressed in jeans, white Tee shirts with leather jackets and their regular boots they had been admitted. There was a bar in the first room. The bartender, himself dressed in a leather harness and chaps looked them over and joked ‘Must be your first time lads!’

He passed them a bottle each of Bud and pointed them down a passageway. They stood out in the crowd; fit, heavily built with buzz cuts they drew admiring looks and shouts of invitation from many as they had strolled through the rooms looking on at the scenes being played out in dark corners and back rooms.

They saw all sorts of new sights, men in bondage, sex of many kinds and guys in ecstasy from both pain and pleasure.

There was a crowd in the end room and a there was a feeling of expectation and excitement. All being over 6’ they stood at the back and looked over the gathering crowd; intrigued to see what would happen next. It was a real mix of types. Young fit guys wearing leather harnesses or tight leather or rubber clothes. Big Bears in bike gear, some in denim or wearing neoprene. There was one figure in the corner standing dressed in a straight jacket over leather shorts. Apart from a ball gag his head was free and he was looking on with obvious interest.

The feeling of a stage set had been enhanced by the lights shining down and into the focus had walked a naked man. He was about 25 years old and weighed in about 200lbs of muscle and bone. Around his wrists and hands were strapped strong leather restraints. Four buckles held them tightly clamped, he had a pair of strong leather cuffs around his ankles, padlocked on and with a thick steel ‘D’ ring on each side. He had stood quietly and looked at the crowd. Then he climbed onto a wooden step and, stretching onto his toes he held his arms up. Padlocks were snapped shut by a couple of tough guys dressed in leather chaps and vests. The locks clamped his wrists directly to a thick wooden beam. The step was pulled away so that he hung, swaying and ready.

A voice came over the PA system that explained, this was the annual club challenge. There was $1000 prize for anyone who would step up and volunteer for the same punishment about to be given.

Everyone waited but no one stepped forward…..

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To combat the issue of bullying in our society, the government has created a dedicated department called The Office of Bully Corrections.
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The Office of Bully Corrections: Intro
by Pencil
Series: The Office of Bully Corrections

I love my job. Bullying has become such an issue on our society that the people demanded we create a government department dedicated to to fighting it. I am the local Bully Corrections Officer and I get reports, often anonymous, of bullies that need deserve justice. I show up and interview the parties involved and come up with a verdict. I then enact the penalty. I have an entourage of military trained personal to ensure that my verdicts are carried out. People are terrified of us. Our punishments usually involve corporal punishment but, more importantly, public humiliation.

There is no better way to put a bully in his place then to bully him. You may think I am talking about the typical teenaged school yard bully; and often it is someone like that. However, bullies in our society can be anyone; the overly abusive cop who takes his powers too far, the business executive who abuses his subordinates, the local high school coach or teacher, or even a father who needs some correction in the way he deals with his children. Bullies are everywhere in our society and that’s why my department gets so many requests. Its great entertainment putting these guys in their place and it’s best to do it in front of their peers or subordinates, which always adds to their embarrassment and the deterrent value.

One interesting case came from a medical student who reported that his senior medical resident was abusing his position……….

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A medical resident receives the justice he deserves for bullying his medical students including forced nudity and a humiliating spanking.
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The Office of Bully Corrections – Chapter 1: Hot Shot Doctor Gets Corrected
by Pencil
Series: The Office of Bully Corrections

Intro:

I love my job. Bullying has become such an issue on our society that we have created a government department dedicated to to fighting it. I am the local Bullies’s Correctional Officer and I get reports, often anonymous, of bullies that need to be “corrected”. I show up and interview the parties involved and come up with a verdict. I then enact the penalty. I have an entourage of military trained personal to ensure that my verdicts are carried out. People are terrified of us. Our punishments usually involve corporal punishment but, more importantly, public humiliation.

There is no better way to put a bully in his place then to bully him. You may think I am talking about the typical teenaged school yard bully; and often it is someone like that. However, bullies in our society can be anyone; the overly abusive cop who takes his powers too far, the business executive who abuses his subordinates, the local high school coach or teacher, or even a father who needs some correction in the way he deals with his children. Bullies are everywhere in our society and that’s why my department gets so many requests. Its great entertainment putting these guys in their place and it’s best to do it in front of their peers or subordinates, which always adds to their embarrassment and the deterrent value.

Chapter 1:

One interesting case came from a medical student who reported that his senior medical resident was abusing his position. Apparently, this particular medical resident – Dr. Michael Rosen – seemed to have something against this poor medical student and enjoyed picking on him during medical rounds and training activities. Dr. Rosen would often grill the poor student mercilessly, asking an inordinate amount of esoteric questions at the patient’s bedside in front of all the other students and staff trying to expose any lapse of knowledge and then berating him for it. The medical student, Nate, suspected he was Dr. Rosen’s chosen victim because he was openly gay and the constant abuse and humiliation was getting quite intolerable.

We arrived at the hospital and had that senior medical resident and the medical student meet us in an empty lecture room. Nate, told of all the abuse he had endured at the hands of this Dr. Rosen. The senior resident, Dr. M. Rosen MD, was an accomplished medical resident for his age. He was already the senior resident of his specialty and was well respected in his hospital. He was, however, also hated for being quite condescending and nasty to everyone around him. He had that self assured cocky attitude that comes from knowing that one was very competent. He obviously had a very high opinion of himself. During the interview with us he seemed quite annoyed that he was called away from his “important work” to attend to our “silly” business. He kept rolling his eyes as Nate whined on about him. Dr. Rosen then explained that some degree of humiliation was a useful learning tool and that Nate needed to be encouraged. Judging from Dr. Rosen’s arrogant tone, I didn’t think he quite understood the power I had over him or the danger he was in.

I looked the two over. Nate was rather scrawny and nerdy standing in contrast to his superior, Dr. Rosen who had a swagger to him. Dr. Rosen had fair complexion with dark wavy hair. He was clean shaven and wearing hospital greens. I took note of relatively hairy forearms and a pretty good body. I also noted the outline of a large package. Perhaps this part of his anatomy was the root of his overconfidence problem.

After a short deliberation with my entourage I announced my verdict. I informed Dr. Rosen that he was guilty of bullying and thereby sentenced to a spanking delivered by Nate his student. Dr. Rosen was flabbergasted.

“You can’t be serious?” he asked incredulously. I explained that indeed I was serious and he was to immediately expose his buttocks and face the wall so Nate could spank him 10 swats. Nate smiled shyly at the prospect of actually spanking the man who had made his last few months so miserable. Dr. Rosen protested telling me that spankings were for children and he was a respected medical resident and more importantly an adult! I cautioned him that it was in my power to make it much worse and he had better comply immediately.

“Fine” said the indignant Dr. Rosen as he turned to the wall and undid the string to his hospital pants. He lowered the back of them along with his underwear just enough to expose his white muscular butt cheeks. His hanging hospital shirt covered the upper part of his ass globes but I could still see a light dusting of course black hairs. His genital area was still completely covered. He turned to Nate, flushing with what seemed more like anger than embarrassment and asked Nate to get on with it. He then turned to me and stated plainly that he would like to have this over-with ASAP because he was about to give a lecture in this very room and he absolutely would not be seen like this by anyone else!

“Yes I understand why that would make you uncomfortable” I reassured him falsely.

“Good” he said, “so please get on with this”. Nate stepped up, looking quite awkward, he proceeded to place his hands on the firm buttock of his boss to take aim. Dr. Rosen closed his eyes and grimaced at the feeling of having this inferior man touching his naked behind. “This is ridiculous”, the doctor muttered.

I signaled to Nate to begin and I counted the swats. Disappointingly, Nate only gave half hearted slaps to the beefy buttocks of his superior. He obviously didn’t want to inflict any pain. He was probably worried about the retribution he would receive at the hands of this arrogant jerk as soon as we left. During this ineffective spanking, I walked around to get a closer look at Dr. Arrogant’s sexy ass. It was a little hairy and he was clenching his buttocks tightly. I wondered if he was doing this to decrease pain or was he trying to be less exposed. After 10 swats, Dr. Rosen pulled up his pants with a huff. He sarcastically asked us if we were all quite satisfied, and then told me that we would have to leave now so he could give his lecture.

It was clear to me that it was going take more than a simple spanking to put this bastard in his place. I then came up with a brilliant idea. “Actually, Dr. Rosen, we are not through here,” I informed him. “I have decided that we will stay for this scheduled lecture but I am changing it’s content”.

“What!?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

I continued, “The lecture will be on male anatomy and you will be the model. And your student, Nate here, will conduct some kind of examination on you.

”Impossible!“he exclaimed. He went on to tell me that they have professional models for that purpose and furthermore, the models are usually undressed somewhat and it would be completely inappropriate for him to appear shirtless or in any other unclad manner in front of students and peers.

Exactly my objective, I explained. You will appear in an undignified state in front of your peers and underlings in order to humiliate you. You will do this to appreciate how it feels to be on the receiving end of such treatment. Dr. Rosen looked shocked and glanced over at the equally shocked Nate.

“Do you feel up to it?”, I asked Nate. “Will you be able to conduct a physical examination of your senior resident here? And can you do it in a thoroughly demeaning manner?”

“I. .. I guess so”, Nate answered uncertainly, but there was some joy creeping into his expression.

“Good”, I said firmly, “so Dr. Rosen please undress completely.” Nate suddenly smiled broadly. Was he actually going to get to see his sexy superior naked? Dr. Rosen just stared at me in disbelief. “You heard me”, I said calmly, “you will strip and then stand nude at the centre of the lecture hall with Nate so that he can introduce the lesson to crowd, which I suspect will be entering any minute. Nate, You will need to explain why we are using your senior resident as a model for this lecture and when your through, Dr. Rosen will need another spanking. I do believe he deserves this don’t you?”

Nate nodded in agreement enthusiastically.

The young doctor started stuttering; “You you want me to get naked? Here? Now? In front of … is this a joke? I’m an important medical resident here, How….”.

I cut him off, “Do you really want this to get worse Dr. Rosen? Now get on with it!” My military guards moved in menacingly. Dr. Rosen started flushing profusely. He suddenly seemed to be sweating.

“I will do no such thing!” he said defiantly.

“Very well, strip him naked.” I ordered my guards. Burly men lunged at the startled doctor who instinctively stepped backwards. They grabbed at him and he tried to push them away. He shouted and cursed trying to hold on to his clothes. His air of formality was suddenly lost as he kicked and screamed the most undignified expletives. “My dear doctor Rosen”, I chided, “I thought you were an educated man! Such profanity is surely beneath you?”

In a few minutes Dr. Joshua Rosen’s hospital greens and socks and underwear were torn from his body. The guards moved away. Nate had to put his hand to his mouth to stifle a laugh. A very naked Dr. Rosen stood there in front of us, face flushed beet red and hands covering his groin. He was huffing from the exertion of the struggle. He was not looking so confident any more. He did have a pretty good body with a muscular chest and narrow waste. Dark hairs brushed over his well shaped pecs and they formed a line in the middle as they moved down his flat abdomen and joined his bushy pubes which were poking out above his hands. I let my eyes roam up and down his body as did Nate.

“Glad to see you practice what you preach and stay in good shape” I commented. Dr. Rosen took a deep breath trying to compose himself.

“This is stupid!” he managed to say. He was trying to hold on to some level of dignity.

Being experienced in these situations, I knew just what to say; “It may be true that the situation is quite laughable, but you must agree that the most laughable part of it is definitely you?” That shut him up and he dropped his eyes from our stares looking down at his feet. No doubt realizing how right I was.

Suddenly the doors to lecture hall opened and people, men and women, started walking in. Dr. Rosen turned toward them in horror and he tried to move back towards us. Jaws dropped open and people stopped in their tracks and looked our way. People from behind banged into the first ones as more walked in.

“Is that Dr. Rosen??”, one asked out loud. More piled in.

“Its Mike!”, said a surprised resident. “Holy shit! He’s totally nude!”

Many started laughing and pointing. Others were covering their open mouths. Some ladies in crowd averted their gaze but others quite enthusiastically stared. Overall most seemed quite happy with what they were seeing. Some backed out the door thinking they must of walked in on something they weren’t suppose to. Come on in I shouted to them, the lecture is about to begin.

Poor Dr. Rosen didn’t seem to know which way to move. He turned away from the doors and then realized his ass was now completely on show. He moved his hands to cover his ass, and his rather large limp dick flapped out in front of him in full view to me and Nate. He then covered his crotch again and turned back to the crowd which was getting larger. The poor man was moving about like a mouse caught between the paws of a cat.

Nate grabbed Dr. Rosen’s arm who managed to pull it away with his hands still tightly over his package. He turned to me and with his voice lowered asked me to “Please reconsider”. He went on to say that he had learned his lesson and he would make a great effort to never bully anyone again. He even added a nice “Please, let me get dressed. This is really embarrassing!” I told him that his fate was now up to his victim, Nate, and only he would decide when this would end.

Rosen didn’t like that idea. He angrily glanced at Nate and then back to me; “but he’s just a stupid med student! He shouldn’t be in a position of authority over me!” That reaction didn’t help the silly doctor and I think he realized that when Nate responded to his remark by forcibly grabbing his arm and started walking the nude doctor to the base of the raised seating. Poor Dr. Rosen had to move fast to keep Nate from pulling his hands away from his genitals. He was still trying to protect his modesty from the gathering crowd. He turned and took one more imploring look at me.

“Don t look at me”, I said as I shrugged, “Your med student is in charge now”. He then turned away and I watched his manly sexy ass wiggle, now completely on show.

Nate brought his senior resident to the front of the crowd beside a table with some medical equipment on it. He positioned Dr. Rosen to face the crowd who were now mostly sitting. The murmuring and chuckling quieted down as Nate began to talk. “So I think everyone here knows our Dr. Rosen. He has been a rather nasty senior resident to many of us, so as a punishment he will be a prop in my lecture today”. The crowd started to murmur appreciatively. Two grey haired doctors in the crowd were not amused and walked out. A few others followed but most stayed put. I’m sure that most of them were quite happy to see this bully get his comeuppance.

Nate went on; “so I will now demonstrate the cremasteric reflex. Dr. Rosen, please remove your hands from your genitals and put them on your head.” The doctor just stood there. He stared straight ahead with a shocked look of a deer caught in a car’s headlights. I don’t think he was able to hear Nate over the sound of his own pounding heart. Nate repeated himself but still Dr. Rosen stood staring like a statue. Suddenly, Nate slapped the naked man hard on the ass, “I said put your hands on your head!” he shouted. Dr. Rosen sprang into life and yelped. The audience erupted into laughter. I’m sure everyone was enjoying seeing the shy medical student taking command of that cocky medical resident like that. Nate slapped him again. Dr. Rosen reluctantly moved his hands to his head. There was such a pained look on his face, as he did so, I thought he might faint. I took a seat near the front to get a good look.

Now Dr. Rosen stood in all his naked glory, completely exposed to his colleagues and subordinates. For this moment, he was totally without position, status or any control of his situation. And his facial expression revealed how horrible that was for him. He certainly was a well built young man and he somehow looked younger now than he did when I met him. He had a muscular slender body and nice amount of hair over his pecs and abdomen and a thick pubic bush. He was also well hung and I’m sure in other situations he was probably proud to show off his body. Nate then told him to move his legs wide apart. Rosen complied quickly. I guess he was afraid of getting another demeaning slap to his ass. Not satisfied, Nate told the naked man to move his legs even farther apart. The poor man was now standing with his legs so wide apart it was difficult for him to stay balanced. This position really did show off how long his dick was and it was great to see that pendulous furry nut sack swing back and forth as he tried not to fall over.

Nate then drew everyone’s attention to Dr. Rosen’s swinging scrotum and explained the neuropathway of the cremasteric reflex. He commented that Dr. Rosen had a good scrotum for the demonstration since it was relatively low hanging. Dr. Rosen grimaced at this unwanted public attention to his privates. He was learning how different it was to be the examinee instead of the examiner.

Nate then asked his senior resident to lift his penis upwards to give the audience full visual access to his scrotum. Rosen now stood there with his legs wide apart holding his dick like a little boy about to piss.

Nate crouched down and lightly stroked the left inner thigh of his senior resident. Dr. Rosen’s left testicle responded by retracting. Nate repeated it a few times and asked that the crowd to move in for a better view. People shuffled down and everyone’s eyes were glued to Dr. Michael Rosen’s genitals. Nate repeated the maneuver on both sides. Poor Dr. Rosen again was staring ahead, no doubt trying not to think about what was happening while feeling his hated medical student touching him between his legs. His body was reacting to Nate without him having any control over it. Some of the participants seemed legitimately interested in the educational value of the demonstration but judging by the smirks and grins, most were just enjoying cocky resident’s humiliation.

“Ok now, we will demonstrate the anal wink reflex.” said Nate. Dr. Rosen’s eyebrows went up. There were more chuckles. The nude man stood back up moved his hands back to cover his groin and turned to Nate. With his head partially bowed, I heard him whisper “Nate, come on… Please.”

“Get on the table!” Nate commanded loudly. Dr Rosen whispered something again and this time Nate responded by grabbing Rosen by the shoulders, spun him around, then slapped his ass hard.

Rosen cried out like a hurt puppy and a few of the audience including myself clapped. A blushing Rosen then crawled up on the table and stood on all fours like a dog. He looked straight ahead trying to keep a straight face but I could almost feel the heat of shame radiating from his expression.

Nate then had the doctor bend his arms so he was resting on his elbows and he slapped the poor man’s back telling him to arch his back so his ass was pointing upwards. Nate then asked for some volunteers. Many hands flew up and Nate chose two other students to come down and pull Dr. Rosen’s buttocks apart to put his anus completely on display. As this was happening, Nate explained that when examining a patient, one should take every effort to protect the patient’s modesty and he or she should never be completely undressed, as Dr. Rosen was now. He reminded the audience that he was deliberately not allowing the present “patient” any cover, as part of his punishment. To emphasize his point, he asked his senior resident how he felt with his anus displayed like this. Rosen didn’t answer and I saw that he was now hiding his face by turning his neck and burying it in his own arm pit. Nate angrily slapped the naked ass in front of him and demanded an answer.

“Stop hitting me!”, Rosen shouted desperately with his voice cracking. Nate delivered several more slaps to the one of the upturned buttocks. The exposed ass cheek was turning red.

Rosen gave in “I feel embarrassed, I feel very embarrassed to have everyone looking at me like this, ok!?“. It sounded as if the poor man was about to cry.

The demonstration continued. With two medical students prying the handsome doctor’s buttock’s apart, his stretched anus was very visible. Nate pointed out that the surrounding ring of hair leading down to the sides of the dangling scrotum and the darker hue to the anal opening were typical for an adult male. Dr. Rosen’s face turned even a darker red. Nate then reached under Dr. Rosen’s belly and grabbed his flopping penis. Rosen shuttered at the sensation. “Ok everyone, you will note that when I squeeze the glans penis, the anus will contract”. Nate went on to do the experiment and indeed it had the expected reaction. Nate then went on to to invite everyone to come up and put on a glove, apply lubricant and insert a finger into Dr. Rosen’s anus to fully appreciate this reflex. Nate then added with a smirk, “Of course we don’t have to use lube but I want our senior resident to still be able to do rounds when we are finished with him”.

A line quickly formed and one by one, Dr. Rosen’s colleagues and students inserted a finger in to his ass. Nate happily squeezed Rosen’s cock for each person so the examiner could feel the sphincter contract. Some people were being gentle but others seemed to want there own piece of revenge and forcibly finger fucked the helpless man sawing in out mercilessly. Rosen was doing his best to be quiet but he couldn’t help grunting and moaning as he squirmed about on the table.

I walked around to get a look at the previously arrogant doctor’s face. His eyes were clenched shut hard and I am sure he was trying to imagine this wasn’t really happening. “How does it feel?”, I asked, “How does it feel to have your student’s hand on your dick and another’s in your ass?”

“Weird.” he managed to squeak out from between gritted teeth. I went on, “So from now on when you speak to your students and colleagues you will know how it feels to have their finger inside you, and they will picture you the way you are now; stark naked with your ass in the air. It will probably change the way you talk to them. Don’t you think?”

Before he could answer, I broke into a laugh. I saw that Nate was now squeezing Dr Rosen’s big erection. The naked man on all fours was clearly getting quite sexually stimulated. It must of been the combination of prostate stimulation while Nate was stroking and squeezing his cock. Nate was grinning ear to ear at Rosen’s inability to control himself. Finally everyone, who wanted to, had fingered the naked man, and Nate announced that he would now finish of the naughty man’s punishment with a spanking. He told Rosen to get off the table and face the audience with his hands on his head.

The sweating blushing man had no fight left in him and he meekly obeyed. He kept his eyes on anything other then the familiar faces staring at him as he crawled down from the table and got into the requested position. His erection proudly pointing up. No one could stop themselves from laughing now. A viscous drop of pre-cum was hanging off the tip of the doctors big pulsating boner. There were whistles and hoots as everyone seem to forget that they were in a formal setting. Suddenly we could hear a wet fart and lube started dripping down the mans hairy legs from his sore anus. As if it wasn’t bad enough for the once proud medical resident to have every part of his body exposed to the people he worked with, everyone was now seeing him sexually aroused with lube dripping out of his ass. Tears were welling up in his eyes ,and at that moment , I actually felt sorry for him.

Nate stood to the nude doctor’s right and suddenly whacked the naked buttocks with his left hand. Dr. Rosen stumbled forward with the force of the blow. “Get back here boy!” the now very authoritative Nate ordered. “I’m going to have to steady you better”. Rosen obediently stepped back to where he was .

Nate reached around Rosen’s body with his right hand and grabbed the doctors pulsating erection. With his left hand he gave the hardest whack yet to Rosen’s ass.

“Aaah!” Rosen shouted pathetically. His pelvis thrusted forwards but he was held back by the hand around his dick. It was hilarious.

“This is for being such a bully” Nate shouted as he continued to whack the poor naked man’s ass. Tears were plainly running down Dr. Rosen’s face and his entire body, especially his butt was red.

“I’m sorry … I’m so sorry for being a bully! Please stop!” the naked man cried, but his underling kept on whacking. Soon Rosen’s breath became laboured, “please stop”, he now only muttered, but he was gasping. By his expression, I could see that it wasn’t actually pain making him gasp but rather the consequential stroking of his hard sex organ with each slap on his ass. Again he begged Nate with a guttural voice; “Man, please stop, I’m going to..”

Nate cut him off and loudly asked “Your going to what? Dr. Rosen, Please tell us what you are about to do” Rosen didn’t answer.

I could see that Nate was deliberately manipulating the humiliated man’s erection. Dr. Rosen’s scrotum was now contracted and he looked desperately to Nate and then to the crowd in a kind of mad sneer.

With one final slap to the man’s ass, Dr. Micheal Rosen ejaculated. His cum spurted out and the first shot landed in the lap of one of the audience who responded by screaming “Oooh!”. The next few spurts fell closer to him and finally white hot cum was running down Nate’s hand. The expression on Rosen’s face was a bizarre mixture of ecstasy and shame.

Nate let go of the man. Rosen stood there panting looking down at his dripping dick. Nate flicked his hand at his senior resident and a wad cum flew onto Rosen’s chest where it landed clinging to the hairs there. The audience started clapping.

“Well I think that’s the end of our lecture today”, Nate announced as he wiped his hands onto the sweaty belly of Dr. Rosen. As the smiling crowd started shuffling out of the room a very humble looking Rosen just stood there looking down. The wad of cum visible in his chest hair and some semen still dripping from his deflating dick. Finally a compassionate look crossed Nate’s face and he gently told the senior resident that he could get dressed and go. Without looking up, a sniffling Dr. Rosen politely said “Thank you”. He dressed in silence with trembling hands. As soon as he was dressed he moved quickly out of the room not saying a word to anyone.

“Good job!”, I said, shaking Nate’s hand and I left with my entourage. Last I heard, Dr. Rosen never came back to that hospital. He eventually transferred to a hospital in another city. Apparently he was now loved by his colleagues and students and was moving quickly up the ranks of the new hospital. Nate’s confidence and performance dramatically improved after that day, and now he is senior resident of his hospital.

I am still loving my job. I ask that you send in any reports of bullying that you may come across. Please describe the bully and the circumstances. And if you don’t mind, please also describe the bully’s appearance. Together, I am sure we will be able to do the necessary “correction”.

CONTINUE THE STORY:PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

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After giving his son a humiliating spanking in front of his friends, a stern father learns a valuable lesson when he endures the exact same treatment.
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The Office of Bully Corrections – Chapter 2: A Trip Back to the Neighbors
by Pencil
Series: The Office of Bully Corrections

Mr. O’Brien sat in his living room, trying to hide his nervousness, wondering what the Office of Bully Corrections had in store for him. He was sitting with his 18 year old son Lance. Both of them dressed neatly but casually. Mr. O’Brien had recently received an official court order to be waiting for the officer to arrive at this time.

He hadn’t meant to break the law but his son needed that spanking. Lance had hurt the Carter boy at school. Nothing serious. Mr Carter hadn’t seen it that way, however. He had called Mr O’Brien, raising all kinds of hell. Mr O’Brien was secretly proud of his son for putting that Carter kid Jeffrey in his place, but he needed to be a proper authority figure in the eyes of the community so he couldn’t let his son get away with it.

I promised Mr Carter you’d be properly punished. And you will be. After supper. he remembered saying. And you are going to spanked in front of the Carter’s after you apologize to them.

Please don’t let it be that! Lance pleaded. Not in front of that Jeffrey!

Lance tried to argue with him but Mr. O’Brien didn’t put up with insolence. He marched his teenaged son 3 blocks to the Carter house carrying his old fraternity paddle. His kid was embarrassed at people in the streets knowing what was about to happen as they saw them walk past.

And that’s exactly what happened to Lance as promised and he got it on the bare butt. Mr O’Brien almost always made him pull down his pants and underwear for his whippings. The last few times, he’d even made Lance take all his clothes off. You’re getting too big for your britches, son, so they better come off! was his dad’s line – Mr O’Brien constantly had to reproach his son about his attitude. Even the threat of having to undress completely, if only in front of his dad, caused Lance to blush. So when he had to undress in front of the Carters, Lance was mortified. Mr O’Brien was proud that he so effectively punished his son. And just so that his son would not too soon forget the lesson, he made Lance walk the 3 blocks back home in the nude. It was dark by them so no one really saw but the poor boy was almost in tears and he promised never to misbehave again.

Lance felt he was too old to be embarrassed that way. And boy, did people tease him about the incident afterwards. Like all teenagers, Lance was shy about his developing body and to be forced to show it to the neighbours and then to spanked like a little kid was just too awful.

Dad just has to stop treating me like a kid. Lance thought. He has to understand what that kind of humiliation was like! How would he like to spanked in the nude in front of people?

So shortly after that incident Lance called the Office of Bully Corrections to report his father.

Now they were both in the living room waiting for some agent of the law to come and administer some kind of punishment to Mr. O’Brien. He wondered what it could be. He probably would have to do some community service or perhaps write a letter to some judge somewhere.

Mr. O’Brien turned to his son and firmly scolded him You know son, reporting me was wrong. I was doing what was needed for you. Yes maybe I broke the law and that was also wrong. I admit it. But you shouldn’t have involved outsiders.

Well dad, I had to make you stop punishing me like that. I’m not a little kid any more and men should not be humiliated like that. Lance answered.

Son, you have a lot to learn in life and one of them is that humiliation is a good teaching tool and that’s what you needed. You should just man-up and take it and not go running to some kind of outside authority.

Lance drop his gaze, He knew he could never win an argument with his Dad. His Dad was tough as nails and was a pretty commanding character both physically and because of his authoritative manner.

At that moment, The door bell rang.

When Mr O’Brien opened it he was quite taken aback to find such a young officer. The man looked like he was in his early twenties at the most. A strapping young man with blond hair and thick lips on a still boyish face. He was wearing a tight fitting very official looking uniform.

The officer identified himself as Officer Grant and asked Mr O’Brien to identify himself. He then went on to explain the mandate of the Office of Bully Corrections and its full legal authority.

Mr O’Brien looked a little annoyed when this young officer probably, 15 years his junior clearly stated that for the day Mr. O’Brien was completely under his authority and all his orders were to be obeyed without question. Non compliance with orders would result in incarceration.

Officer Grant asked if that was all completely clear and Mr. O’Brien hesitated not sure how to answer. He didn’t like the idea of taking orders from someone so much younger and he didn’t like the idea of being treated disrespectfully in front of his son and in his own home!

“Sir, you didn’t answer fast enough,” Officer Grant stated loudly. “Turn around and grab your ankles!”

Mr. O’Brien asked if the officer was serious.

“Now!” shouted the officer making Mr. O’Brien jump. He looked over at his son who looked quite surprised and then he reluctantly turned, bent over and grabbed his ankles.

Officer Grant gave a hard slap to the seat of Mr O’Brien’s pants. It didn’t hurt much but Mr O’Brien turned red at the indignity of it. He stood back up and gave his son and the officer an angry look.

“Clear?” the officer once again shouted.

“Yes sir,” Mr O’Brien answered. He then turned to his son and calmly added “Son we should always be respectful of the law.”

“Stop talking!” the officer once again ordered. Mr O’Brien turned a little more red with anger and stood there waiting for the next order.

“Ok lets go, Mr O’Brien.”

“Go where?” he asked.

“I’m taking you over to the Carters’ to give you your spanking. That’s where!”

“A spanking ? Seriously?” Mr O’Brien stared at the young officer in amazement.

“According to our investigation, that’s where your bullying crime took place so that’s where you are going. They witnessed the crime so they will witness the punishment. Now move!”

Lance stood and walked haltingly toward his father.

Mr O’Brien stopped him “Son. You wait here for me.”
“No” the officer interrupted, “Lance is the one you spanked, remember? It’s only fair that he sees me spank you. Now hurry up!”

“Officer, you can’t be serious!” Mr O’Brien protested.

“Do you prefer to go from here to jail? Imagine the court proceedings, the public knowing that you are a criminal in prison! Do you want to be even more disgraced than you’re already going to be? Then move!” Officer Grant answered . “We aren’t driving, Mr. O’Brien, we’re walking.”

”Walking?” asked Mr O’Brien, still somewhat in a state of disbelief.

As they were walking out of the house, The young officer went to his car.  “We can’t go off without this, now can we?” He picked up a sturdy wooden paddle from the car.

Mr O’Brien was silent in shock as his son shut the door behind them. Then he burst out,”That’s my fraternity paddle! How did you get it?”

“That’s right it is, your son has graciously supplied it to us. I believe it was the instrument you used on him.”

“You aren’t gonna use it on me?” the older man responded.

“Yes, you will punished just as you punish your son. We always try to make the punishment fit the crime. Now, come on. I told the Carters we’d be there right at seven.” Officer Grant stepped behind Mr. O’Brien and propelled him forward with a hand to shoulder.

“Officer! Please! I’m an adult!”

The officer stopped. “Okay. We can take you to jail if you’d rather.”

“Come on Dad,” Lance chimed in. “You have always taught me to obey the law.”

“Yes but this is….” Mr O’Brien was obviously at a loss on how to deal with this situation. Lance took some satisfaction in that. He respected his father but very much wanted to see him get a taste of his own medicine.

“I thought you’d prefer the paddle. Let’s go!” ordered the young officer.

As they resumed their walk down the sidewalk, the appalling nature of Mr O’Brien’s predicament fully dawned on him. Here he and his son were, strolling along, with Officer O’Brien cheerfully swinging the paddle. The officer’s uniform clearly read “Bully Corrections”. Everybody who saw them would know what the father was in for. And at this time of day, the neighbourhood was quite busy, with other fathers coming home from work and kids out playing – this was summer and there was still plenty of daylight to enjoy. No one was in sight now; but Mr O’Brien, was looking around furtively at the terrifying prospect of meeting somebody. He had to be nudged forward by Officer. A car pulled up to the curb, and Mr Barton, a friend of their family, got out. On seeing the O’Briens, he waved and called hello. Then, observing the officer and paddle, he said in a mocking, grave tone,” Uh oh, somebody’s gonna get it! And I don’t think it will be Lance this time!”

The grown man blushed and he tried to muster an answer But Lance quickly answered, “Fraid so, Mr Barton, he definitely deserves this.”

Mr Barton chucked Mr. O’Brien on the shoulder playfully with his fist. “Too bad, pal,” he said, added a good-bye and walked on to his house.

Immediately after that encounter, Lance spotted a group of neighbourhood teens Lance’s age. They were playing ball directly in the path that they were taking. Lance slowed his walk and Mr. O’Brien tried to walk faster, but the officer’s hand gently restrained him. The group had now already seen the oncoming O’Briens.

To Mr O’Brien’s alarm, The officer spoke first. “Excuse us, gentleman. Mr O’Brien and we have an important appointment to keep.”

“Hi, Mr O’Brien. Hi Lance!” the teens responded. They had observed the paddle in the officer’s hand and many knew what bully corrections were. Inferring the nature of the appointment, they were quite cheerful at the thought that this tough sometimes arrogant yet respected man was about to get his butt heated.

“Way to go Lance,” one said to Mr. O’Brien’s proud son. “I wish that was my Dad,” another said.

As Lance and his dad passed on, Mr. O’Brien moaned to himself, “I can’t take two more blocks of this!” But the next stage of his ordeal was already apparent: another group of kids, this one consisting of little boys and girls.

The grown man steeled himself as they approached the brats. Catching sight of the father and son and an officer looking like a police man with a paddle, and no doubt quickly appraising the situation, one of the boys nevertheless maliciously asked, “Whatcha doin’, Mr O’Brien?”

Lance gladly answered “Oh, the officer and I are taking Dad over to the Carters’ so Dad can get a paddling!” Mr. O’Brien turned to his son to admonish him but the officer signaled to him to hush. He dispelled any merciful feeling by swinging the paddle menacingly.

“Ohhh,” said a number of the boys, obviously aware of the nature of this meeting. Some of the girls giggled. All of the kids went into a huddle as Lance and his dad passed on, and their whispering and occasional amused glances at Mr. O’Brien seemed more humiliating then anything thus far.

As the O’Briens walked away, a few of the boys broke out at last, calling in that jeering tone that only gloating little kids can master, “Mr O’Brien is gonna get it on his bare butt!”

“Officer!” Mr. O’Brien stated, hoping he would put a stop to the childish ridicule.

Lance turned and replied, “He sure is! Have fun, guys!” He then told his father, “They’re just telling the truth, Dad.”

“You mean I am gonna get it on my bare behind? While the Carters watch?”

“Hey!” the Officer stopped and gave Mr O’Brien a stern look. “Stop talking so much!”

They continued their agonizing route. But to answer your question: “Yes, you are.”

“You’re going to make me pull down my pants and underpants in front of Dave Carter and and his kid and my son?!” He stopped walking, his face going white at the thought.

“It’s worse than that, Mr O’Brien”

“You mean…”

“That’s right. You’re going to take off all your clothes for us.”

“What!? You can’t! Please no! I can’t be nude in front of kids!… And a women! I’m a grown man!”

“You made your son take ’em all off. You put him through that embarrassment, so you’re taking ’em all off too. Now, hurry up, we’re going to be late.”

He looked at Lance who smiled and shrugged his shoulders. And as much as Mr O’Brien hated being thus paraded through the neighbourhood, he dreaded even more finally arriving at their destination.

As Officer Grant knocked on the Carters’ front door, Mr. O’Brien prayed that they wouldn’t be home. He knew his hopes were in vain: Mr Carter and Jeff were no doubt eagerly awaiting them.

He was surprised that Mrs. Carter opened the door.”Hey, Miles,” she spoke. “I’ll tell my husband you are all here.”

Dave Carter came and shook the officer’s hand. Then he looked disapprovingly at Mr O’Brien. “Hello, Miles,” he said indifferently. “Come on in. We’ve been expecting you.”

He opened the door to admit his guests, and Mr. O’Brien saw Jeff, a cruel smile on his face, standing at the end of the hall. Mr Carter asked, “My wife wanted to see. I hope that’s ok.”

The officer agreed. “I’m sure Lance appreciates it as it will just make Mr O’Brien more embarrassed. Isn’t that right Mr. O’Brien?”

Mr. O’Brien didn’t answer but his blushing expression revealed his agreement.

And I kept Jeff home for the evening – just for this.

The officer tousled Jeff’s hair. ”That’s too bad, pal, but I’m going to see to it that you don’t regret it.” He gently smacked the paddle against his palm. Jeff laughed.

Mr O’Brien always felt that Dave Carter might be a repressed homosexual by his effeminate manners. ”Maybe that’s why he was so eager to participate in this humiliation” he thought.

The officer turned to Mr Carter. ”So where do you want to do this?”

“How about here– in my den.”

“Fine.” They all entered, and Mr O’Brien heard the officer tell Dave Carter, ”I’ll make him take off all his clothes for this. Now, if you think that will embarrass your wife…”

“No, go right ahead and handle this as you usually do. Mr. O’Brien knows he has a great body, always working out in the gym and strutting around. This is a great chance for him to show it off. My wife will quite enjoy the view.” He smiled at Mr. O’Brien as he said this mockingly. Mr. O’Brien was dumbfounded. He was feeling quite violated and vulnerable. “I want Jeff to learn a good lesson from this as well. About what happens to bully’s no matter how old they are.”

Jeff, who had been too busy smirking at Mr. O’Brien to listen carefully, heard his name and walked over to the officer.
“Am I going to get to see Mr. O’Brien’s bare butt?”

The group all laughed, except for Mr O’Brien. Lance was surprised at his father’s failure to say even one word of reproach to anyone.

The officer answered, “You’re going to see Mr. O’Brien’s bare everything, Jeff! He’s gonna take off all his clothes for us in just a minute! He’ll be standing there naked as a newborn baby!” Jeff clapped his hands in delight.

“Are we ready?” the officer asked everyone but Mr O’Brien. “Okay, Mr and Mrs Carter you sit here, Jeff and Lance over there, I’ll sit right here for the time being. Mr. O’Brien, you don’t sit– not now, or for quite a while.” This produced general laughter, again with the exception of Mr. O’Brien.

The audience sat on straight-backed chairs facing Mr. O’Brien , and the officer who moved another chair between them. The officer finally took his position in the chair, sitting comfortably with the paddle balanced across his knees. He gave Mr O’Brien a condescending scolding look that one normally gives a child, not a man about 15 years your senior.

“All right, Mr O’Brien,” he leaned back and placed his hands behind his neck. “Take off all your clothes.”

Mr O’Brien attempted a final appeal. “Officer, really, I think this has gone far enough. Your point has been well made.”

“Mr O’Brien,” the officer commanded, “If you don’t do just as I say, I’ll have to add a nice long jail sentence to your punishment.”

Mr Carter asked, somewhat disapprovingly, “You mean you haven’t already?”

Officer Grant tapped the paddle. “Believe me, this will be enough.” He faced his charge. “Unless Mr. O’Brien fails to cooperate.”

“I’m cooperating, I’m cooperating!” Mr O’Brien muttered and began removing his shoes. He knew how much his son loved him, and couldn’t believe that he was behind this. But he reasoned that the only way things might go a little easier would be if he did exactly what this officer said.

As he undressed, he tried to pretend he wasn’t being watched. This was easy as he removed his shirt, but became almost impossible as he pulled down his pants. Mr O’Brien felt the relentless gazes on him as he revealed breath-taking expanses of muscular body, hairy chest and abdomen and sturdy hairy limbs. At last he stood with only his underwear remaining, and hesitated once more. He was sweating profusely and he felt foolish standing in his underwear in a normal looking living room full of normal fully dressed people.

“What are you waiting for, Mr O’Brien?” the officer asked.

“Officer, please…”

“Everything!” That single word allowed no argument.

Lance smiled at his father in triumph.

Mr O’Brien blushed as he reached to lower his white cotton briefs. He pulled his underpants to the floor, stepped out of them, then kicked them away to join the pile of his other clothing. He now stood completely naked in front of his son, the Carter family and this young officer. This manly muscular man was really well-endowed, and in other circumstances would have been proud to exhibit his equipment. At the moment, however, being the only one naked, he felt at a disadvantage.

Officer Grant indicated to the group, “There he is. Naked as little baby, just as I promised!” He let this sink in; everyone get a good look at those bushy pubes, big cock and low hanging balls. He then addressed Mr. O’Brien “So is it nice being naked in front of people?”

Mr O’Brien was loath to answer, he turned even more red as he didn’t enjoy being lectured to like this but what cold he do?
“No.” he said plainly. Some anger in his voice.

“Good. Now you know what it feels like. Now the first thing you’re going to do is apologize to Lance for making him go through this.”

As awkward as it was for him to apologize to his own son, Mr O’Brien delivered a pretty decent and humble apology. Lance listened to his father intently trying very hard not to laugh.

And now apologize to the Carter’s.

“I’m sorry Jeffrey,” he said “I’m sorry Mr and Mrs. Carter.” Mr O’Brien was a little surprised with himself that he subconsciously didn’t use the Carters’ first names. But at the moment he hardly felt their equal. They both smirked evidently also feeling the differential.

Officer Grant turned to the Carter’s and asked if they were satisfied. Jeff gave his reluctant assent, but then added “He kind of smells!” The people sitting all laughed.

“Did you shower today Mr. O’Brien?”, the officer asked. “You do have some B.O. You were ordered to be clean and ready for my arrival today.”

Mr O’Brien was quite shocked at this question but he stammered a reply. “Yes… Yes I did… I guess I have been sweating … from the .. stress maybe.”

The Officer shook his head disapprovingly, “Mr. Carter would you like to check Mr. O’Brien’s personal hygiene. If he didn’t clean himself properly today, I’m going to increase his punishment.”

“Gladly” Mr Carter said as he eagerly jumped from his seat.

Mr O’Brien was ordered to stand there with his hands on his head, while his neighbour, a man who he suspected was gay, knelt in front of him and lifted his meaty flaccid cock. Mr O’Brien winced with the touch but didn’t move.

Mr Carter played around with the big man’s genitals. Getting a good feel of the sausage like member and then rolled around the weighty hairy ball bag and then lifted it to get a good look underneath. After having a good grope he stood up and took a deep sniff of the helpless man’s hairy pits.

“The bastards enjoying himself!” Mr. O’Brien thought but he stared forward obediently with red stoic look on his face. “Checking my hygiene! What am I? A kid going through puberty?! I’m a grown Man!!” He wished he could say all that, but he kept his mouth shut.

“I think he’s clean. This is fresh sweat.” Mr Carter finally announced.

“Hmm” the officer said. ”Thank you Mr Carter.” Mr Carter sat back down. “Come towards me, Mr O’Brien.”

Mr O’Brien came up close to the sitting young officer. He felt like a bad little boy standing helpless and naked in front of an adult. How ironic that this punk ordering him around was so much younger them him.

Turn around, bend over and pull your butt cheeks apart. I want a good look at how well you cleaned.

Mr O’Brien responded with an agonized look. He saw from the officer’s expression that he had no choice and he reluctantly did what he was told.

As he held that position bent over, reaching back holding his ass open, so the young officer Grant could inspect his most private area, he turned his head to the left and saw Lance covering his face, completely loosing the battle not to laugh, snickering through his hand.

He turned the other way and saw Mrs Carter shaking her head laughing, a hand partially covering her eyes. Mr Carter ,and that brat son of his, were eagerly watching. Both of them leaning forward to get a better view; the young one wide eyed with curiosity and the older one almost drooling with lust.

He turned forward trying desperately to drown out their snickers and pretend this wasn’t happening but then he heard the officer slap on a rubber glove. He braced himself for the inevitable and then his tight ass was invaded.

He slightly lurched and then despite his best attempts he grunted loudly from the sensation of the probing finger. The snickers and laughter filled the room.

After an agonizing minute the officer suddenly withdrew his finger making Mr O’Brien gasp much to his audience’s amusement.

“Ok clean enough.”

Finally he was allowed to stand up and face the sitting spectators. He was dizzy with humiliation and had to concentrate on not loosing his balance.

Mr Carter pointed a finger at his son and admonished, “Pay close attention, Jeff. This is what happens to bad men who misbehave.”

”Up against the wall, Mr O’Brien” ordered the officer. Mr O’Brien obeyed. He stood a short distance from the wall with his hands against it and his legs spread. His hunky pair of milky-white mounds flecked with course black hairs was thrust out enticingly. The young officer, content with these arrangements, asked the group sitting,”Does everybody have a good view?”

Receiving an affirmative answer, Officer Grant raised his paddle. He then noticed a slight imperfection in Mr O’Brien’s posture. ”Hey, mister, you know that’s not quite right.” Mr O’Brien, unaware of what this meant, only shuffled uneasily.

The young officer ordered, “Come on! You make your son do this all the time, now Stick that butt out!”

Jeff echoed maliciously, “Yeah, stick that butt out!”

The poor man crouched down even more. He knew from everyone’s giggling that he was making an embarrassing spectacle of himself.

His arched back and spread legs were causing him to once again spread his ass cheeks for the room. His scrotum swung visibly under that hairy region.

“His butt crack is so hairy!” announced Jeff making the spectators laugh even more.

Officer Grant pushed down on Mr O’Brien’s back arching out his ass just a little more.

“That’s more like it!” the officer approved.

Mr O’Brien closed his eyes, and after a short wait.. Smack! The paddle struck the center of his offered buttocks.

“Yeow!” he howled thrusting his midsection forward but not daring to reach back and rub his afflicted parts.

“Back in position, Mr O’Brien!” the the young man commanded. Mr O’Brien once more stuck out this butt, only now its snow-white hair specked surface was decorated with a pink rectangle.

Smack! the paddle obscured the pink area and drew another yelp from Mr O’Brien. The rectangle was now red.

The officer announced, “I think I’ll work on this cheek for a while!” He placed several smart blows on the right side of the older man’s butt. Tears formed in the man’s eyes and he pounded his fists against the wall.

“Come on Dad,” Lance encouraged, “you can take it. This is what you did to me remember?”

Smack! Officer Grant delivered a swat that Mr. O’Brien just couldn’t take.

“Oh my ass!” he yelled. He grabbed his reddened buns with both hands and began dancing from one foot to the other in a wide circle. The audience thus received an ample display of a wildly bouncing set of grown man’s hairy cock and balls.

The officer practically pushed the dancing stud back against the wall. “Now stay there! You’ve just earned yourself some extra licks!” He immediately began giving Mr O’Brien’s other butt cheek some required attention.

Jeff couldn’t help rubbing in, “Gee, Dad, Mr O’Brien’s butt is awfully red, isn’t it?”

Indeed it was. The grown man howled through his tears as the strapping young officer paddled away. He wasn’t quite keeping still, but was wiggling his bright red butt from side to side making his scrotum swing

“Oh, Officer, Sir!, please!” he begged, not believing his butt could get any hotter until the next lick of his own fraternity paddle convinced him otherwise.

“Please!” the humbled man shouted, “I’ve really learned my lesson!”

The paddling stopped at last. Officer Grant stood aside and surveyed Mr O’Brien’s glowing buns. “That looks red enough to me. But are all of you satisfied?”

Mr Carter answered for them. “Yes I think that is enough. He had the arrogance to suggest I spank my boy before he left here last time. I think he now finally understands what this punishment really is.”

“Okay, Mr O’Brien, you can go stand in the corner for a while.” Mr O’Brien obeyed. Lance and Jeff went up and carefully surveyed the well-blistered man butt
.
Meanwhile, Mr and Mrs Carter chatted with the officer about how many bullies needed to be put in their place these days. Mrs Carter went to the kitchen to fix coffee for them, and even brought Mr O’Brien one in his corner which he declined.

He fumed in his corner to himself. How can a grown man be treated like this? Standing here naked, red butt on display while they all chat! Its just not right. How would officer Grant like a taste of his own medicine? He imagined the strapping young man bare ass naked, bending over getting his plump ass pummeled. I bet I could make that cocky bastard cry with one stroke.

He tried to image Officer Grant with his bare ass cheeks reddening. He wondered white kind of body the young man had. He could see through the uniform that Grant was well built but was he hairy or smooth? Did he have a tan line? Was he well hung? He hated that Officer Grant was thoroughly familiar with every inch of his own body but he could only imagine how the younger man looked naked. How demeaning. How he would love to equalize things!

His thoughts were interrupted by Jeffrey shouting, “He has a boner!”

He looked down at himself and was horrified to see the kid was right. Did he get aroused thinking about another man naked? The shame was overwhelming. This never happened before!

“Turn around!” Officer Grant commanded.

Mr O’Brien hesitated. He tried desperately to think of something else so as to loose his erection.

“Now!”Grant repeated.

Mr O’Brien reluctantly turned around revealing his big hard cock to the room.

Lance covered his face apparently finally feeling shame for his father. Mrs Carter grabbed her son Jeffrey and pulled him out of the room despite his protests. Mr Carter stared lewdly.

Officer Grant was scornful. “Why on earth would you be turned on by this? Is this why you like spanking others?”

O’Brien tried to answer but when he peered into those steeley blue eyes of the handsome young officer, he couldn’t help again imagining the young man naked and his boner raged on.

“Were you jerking off in the corner there or something?! Maybe we should make you do that now!” Officer Grant admonished. “Or maybe you need to shoot your load right here in this living room!”

“No please officer!” Mr O’Brien now said through tears. “I don’t know why this is happening.” He looked again at that pervert Carter staring at him and felt totally violated.

“Please officer, don’t make me do that. Not in front of my own son and Mr Carter.” The big man was begging.

“Fine,” the officer said. “I’m so disgusted that I’m going to leave. Your son Lance will take you home and then this session will be considered over.”

“Thank you Officer” the previously proud man said, hating himself for being such a little sissy.

The officer said his farewells and left, telling Mr O’Brien that he was now in the custody of his son Lance until the end of the day. With the hot officer gone, Mr O’Brien relaxed somewhat and erection faded.

“So have you learned not to spank me any more Dad?” Lance said. “It won’t happen again, will it?”

“N.” his father sniffed.

“All right, Dad, let’s go.”

Mr O’Brien bent down to retrieve the pile of his discarded clothes, but his son scooped them up and said “Sorry, Dad, but you don’t get them until we’re back home.”

The full impact of these words struck him suddenly. “You mean I’ve got to walk home– naked? Lance!”

“To reinforce the lesson, Dad. You’ve been acting like such a big man around the neighbourhood. Well, the neighbourhood is going to get a good look at you and find out how big you really are!” He added in an undertone, “It’s practically dark, and I doubt we’ll meet anyone. And if we do, they won’t be able to see anything. Or, at least, not much.”

Lance clapped the unwilling and unclothed adult on the back and nudged him out the door. He himself paused in the doorway and turned to the smirking Carter family gathered there and thanked them for their help.

It was indeed practically dark, but Mr O’Brien’s cheeks once again this evening tingled with embarrassment, this time at being forced to walk buck naked in such a very public place. They tingled even more when he realized that by tomorrow, the entire neighbourhood, now thankfully quiet, would know of his humbling.

Lance reflected a moment, then laughed. “Okay, Dad,” he picked up the paddle “Now get down in a runner’s crouch.”

Mr O’Brien obeyed and crouched over with one leg ahead of the other like a man about to sprint in a race.

Mr. Carter gratefully took in one last view of the meaty parted butt cheeks with those low hanging dick and balls swinging freely.

“Let’s see if you can make it home without anyone seeing you.”

His father nodded, silently begging for the signal so he could end this humiliation. He had assumed the traditional starting position, half-kneeling. His butt was stuck up and out, once again furnishing a perfect red target, as it had so many other times that evening. Lance didn’t fail to take advantage of the opportunity. Not with the paddle, but considerately, with his hand, he delivered a sharp smack to his Dad’s left butt cheek. “Off you go!”

The man howled as his tender butt tingled yet again, and took off. The Carters laughed at the hysterical site of a grown man running down the street in the nude. His hairy ass pumping, looking side to side to see if there were any spectators. Although his pace was somewhat slowed by his repeatedly grabbing his freshly stung butt, he ran the distance in record time.

Mr O’Brien never again used corporal punishment on his son. He did often think of that sexy hot young officer Grant and he considered making a complaint of his own to the Office of Bully Corrections.

CONTINUE THE STORY:PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

Another bully dad is humiliated when he receives a completely naked spanking in front of his sons, wife and a group of interested parties.
[ratings]

The Office of Bully Corrections – Chapter 3: Case DILF
by Pencil
Series: The Office of Bully Corrections

I was looking over the file of the man who was about due at my office after being summoned because of his his bullying behaviour.

Apparently, Mr Jake Brock was letting his 18 & 19 year old sons run amok about the waiting area of a an airport, screaming and misbehaving. When a senior gentlemen approached this father to ask if he would reign in his children, not only did Mr Brock refuse, but, according to witnesses, he went on to verbally assault the elderly man threatening violence. The poor grey haired man meekly sat back beside his wife not knowing what to do. I was happy that someone had the good sense to complain to our office.

Mr Brock and his family arrived about 10 minutes late and were escorted into my office. When I pointed out that they were late, Brock smiled casually and mentioned that his boys were a tough gang to round up. I wasn’t amused and I looked over the man. He was one of those blue collar types: all scruff and flannel. He hadn’t bothered to shave and had a few day’s stubble on his face. He wore a flannel shirt and faded jeans and work boots. It was clear he did some kind of manual labour because he had quite a nice body. His shirt was open at the top revealing the top of muscular chest and some hair poked out. He was certainly what one could call a DILF. He didn’t seem at all embarrassed by the fact that he was late or that he was so informally dressed compared to the staff present.

He was followed into my large office by a meek looking petite wife who sat with the two boys on either side of her. Mr. Brock sat down in front of me and handed me the court order he had received in the mail.
“So what’s suppose to happen exactly here?” he asked. He spoke in a relaxed confident tone which made me wonder if he understood his predicament.

I explained how the Office of Bully Corrections works and that he had bullied that senior gentleman at the airport after his 2 boys were misbehaving and how my job was to administer the punishment.

“Hey Man, boys will be boys.” he started. He then went on to tell me that I could relax and there was no need to punish anyone because he already did a very good job of that. He turned to the two boys and told them to tell me what he did to them after that day in the airport.
“He spanked us good” the older boy offered.
“Yea,” the younger boy joined in “Dad made sure we will never do that again.”

“Oh, please give me the details, I inquired.” The older boy, looking a little embarrassed, told me how his father had given them a lecture on respecting people and then they had to get undressed and had a bare bottom spanking.

“You had to undress?” I asked. “Underwear too?”

“Yup, we were bare-a-naked.”

“He looked funny naked over Dad’s lap,” the younger boy added cheerfully.

“You did too!” the older one shot back.

“You sure were kicking a lot,” the little one persisted.

“Ok that’s enough out of you!” Mr Brock scolded.

“That must have been very embarrassing,” I asked sympathetically.

“Yeah it sure was and it hurt too. Dad’s pretty strong,” the older boy answered.

Mr Brock looked proud. “You see Mister, everything has been set straight.”

“Not exactly, I responded and turned my attention back to the boys. “You see boys, the problem was not just your behaviour, but it was also your Dad’s. He was very rude to that elderly man.”

“Ok I get it,” Brock interrupted “you want me to apologize to that old guy. He should’ve minded his own business and he is lucky I didn’t touch him.”

“Please don’t interrupt, Mr Brock” I said plainly. Jake Brock gave a surprised look to his wife at that. She shrugged in response. The boys also seemed surprised at my curtness with their father.

“So boys, you see, your father also needs to be punished. What did he say would happen to you if you ever did something like that again?” I asked.

“Uhh…” the older boy hesitated, looking uncertain how to answer.

“Go on” I encouraged.

“He said that if we did that again that we would get another bare bottom spanking. And he would do that no matter where we are, even if there is a lot of people around.”

“I see so do you think that is what your Dad needs?”

“Hey, wait one minute!” Mr Brock spoke up.

I turned towards Mr Brock and I firmly explained that I was the one in control here and he would start behaving himself immediately and would not interrupt me any more. Now the four of them looked shocked. Mr Brock stood up menacingly. Immediately the two guards in the room stood up as well. I then went on to tell Mr Brock that his fate was in my hands and he would be smart to be quiet and sit back down.

Mr Brock looked at the guards angrily. He then looked at his family They looked scared. They were probably worried that Mr Brock was going to attack me.

“Please Jake!” the petite wife spoke up. Jake Brock, red with anger, sat back down.

“So boys,” I continued “Do you think your Dad here needs a spanking?” Mr Brock’s eyebrows went up.

The boys looked confused. “I guess…” the older boy said slowly.

“Can Dads get spanked?” the younger one asked.

“They sure can.” I answered.

“But he’s really strong,” the younger son went on.

“Oh, they can get spanked alright.” I said and I turned towards Mr Brock so I would enjoy his expression at my next comment. “They can get spanked bare-a-naked just like he spanked you.”

Jake Brock’s jaw dropped open at this. His wife actually put her hand to her mouth to stifle a laugh. Interesting family dynamics I thought.

The younger boy asked again: “But he’s really big and tough. I don’t think my Dad would let anyone do that to him. Isn’t that right Dad?” he asked turning towards Mr Brock.

“Yea, Dad would never let anyone spank him,” the older boy added. “Maybe he should just pay a fine or something.”

“Ok Boys!” Mr Brock interrupted again. “The both of you go outside and wait with your Mom. I’m going to have a talk with this guy for a while.”

“That’s it!” I shouted slamming my fist against my desk. This caused the whole family to jump with surprise. My guards smiled knowingly. I turned to Brock, “You are talking without permission.” I pointed at the wall. “Go stand in the corner!” Mr Brock just stared at me not knowing what to do. “Do my guards need to help you? Do I need to call in more? Now get there and face the corner and don’t talk till I say you can!”

“Please Honey” the wife implored.

“Madam, I don’t need your help, but thanks. I’m sure your husband does not want to spend the next few years in jail or worse.”

Mr Brock looked over at his family, red with anger, and then grudgingly got up and moved to the corner. He took a last angry look over his shoulder then faced the wall. He really did have an amazing body. That v-shaped back was obvious even through that thick flannel shirt. His faded jeans fit so perfectly to that rounded muscular ass now facing the room.

His two boys looked shocked. “Wow, no one has ever talked to Dad that way!” the younger one commented.

I then looked at the older boy and gave a sly smile. “Come now, young man, tell me the truth. When you think about how your Dad spanked you, wouldn’t you like the same thing to happen to him?”

The boy opened his mouth and shut it again. He didn’t really know how to respond. “Well, it was really embarrassing everyone seeing me naked and all… And it sure did hurt… but … I guess I deserved it.”

“So don’t you think your Dad deserves it?” I prodded. “Don’t you think it would be fun to see him naked over my lap getting his big fanny warmed? I bet I could make him kick his legs around just like he made you do.” The boy couldn’t suppress a smile at that thought.

“Yea I guess it would. “ the boy answered.

“Well then, it’s concluded.” I declared. “Mr Brock, you are to apologize to the senior couple you offended and then you are going to get a spanking in the nude.”

His youngest son laughed openly. His wife again stifled a chuckle. The oldest boy still had that guilty smile.

“That’s fucking ridiculous!” Brock answered strongly. He then turned and looked over his shoulder. “I think they should be leaving now.” he stated angrily, nodding towards his family. “They have somewhere to be. Isn’t that right honey?”

“Ah yes” she said, standing up obediently.

I didn’t appreciate the foul language that this man was displaying or his general attitude. That will be fixed soon enough I thought to myself and smiled. I told her to go the receptionist for further instructions and she hurriedly left with her two boys in tow. The two boys took some last glances at their Dad as they walked out. I could overhear them debating whether or not it was possible that their father could really be spanked as they left.

When they walked out, Mr Brock sighed with relief and turned towards me. “Ok, what is this really all about?” he demanded of me.

I did not change my stern look and firmly told him that I had already explained myself fully. Mr Brock asked me if this was some kind of a joke. I assured him I was serious. I then asked him to remove his clothes. He stared at me incredulously as I repeated my command. When he didn’t move I asked if needed help from the guards.

“Fine!” he exclaimed angrily. “If you really want to see me naked!” He started to strip. It was great seeing his hunky body coming into view as I stared. It was as good as I imagined. He took off each item of clothing and handed them to the guards. With each item he took off he blushed just a little more. When he was just in his boxers he stopped and again asked if I was serious. I answered by just staring at him. He put his hands under the waistband of his boxers and looked around at the guards then back at me, then took his hands out. “Can I just pull them down at the back for the spanking?” he asked.

“What’s wrong?” I mocked. “Feeling shy?”

“Well, I’m not really use to stripping for a bunch of dudes.” he quipped. I asked him if he allowed his sons any modesty when they were spanked. “They are just boys!” he answered harshly. “I’m a man!”

I told him that he may indeed be a man but he had been acting like a child: petulant, foul-mouthed and disrespectful. He would therefore be treated like a child until I felt that he had learned his lesson.

“Fine! he repeated and pulled off his boxers. His large penis swung free, framed in a mass of curly pubes. His balls were quite low hanging and they swung freely as he handed his last garment over. The guard locked his clothes away, leaving him standing in the centre of the room stark naked. He had an angry look on his face and he didn’t bother covering himself at all. I let him stand there for a few moments looking at his amazing physique, in all its glory, until he broke the awkward silence with: “Ok, now what?”

I told him that the spanking room was down the hall and I started to open the door and gestured for him to walk out. As I did that he backed away and covered himself.

“What?” he asked. “I can’t go out in public like this!”

In a reassuring tone, I explained that our facility was not open to the public and that only staff and invitees were ever in this building. He didn’t seem very reassured and the guards had to gently escort him to the door. He was covering himself as they moved him.

“What if someone sees me? What if my kids are still around?” he said worriedly as he paused in the doorway.

“Move!” I shouted and slapped his meaty ass. He yelped and jumped into the hallway. I pointed in the direction he was to walk. It was great to see him do this walk of shame down the hallway. A few staff walked by and smiled as they checked him up and down. He shyly covered himself and tried to avoid their gaze. I walked behind him looking at his manly hairless globes moving up and down with each step. He had a faint little patch of soft hairs just over his buttocks.

Suddenly, he turned and looked at me. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? Like what you see? Your kind of guy likes staring at a dude’s ass, right?”

I immediately ordered him to stop walking which he did. I then told him that he was not helping himself at all by being so belligerent. He just stared angrily at the floor as I talked. A few more people walked by as I lectured him on respectful behaviour. He held his genitals tightly as he felt the stares of the the people in the hall. He finally answered: “Ok I got it!”

“Now bend over and spread your legs!” I ordered.

“Huh?” he replied alarmed.

“You said I like staring at your ass, so now I am going to. Now bend over spread your legs wide and pull your buttocks apart.”

He glared at me for a second and then did what he was told. He bent over in the hallway and reluctantly reached back and pulled his cheeks apart. I looked down at his spread ass.

“Wider please” I continued “your ass-crack is furry, and I want to see right in there.”

He pulled his cheeks apart more and I took a good long look at his anus. So did the chuckling guards and a passing young women as she walked by and turned around to look.

I crouched behind him and put my hands around his hairy low hanging balls. He cringed as I gently squeezed. “Please” he said softly.

“You going to be good?” I asked, squeezing his testicles harder.

“Yes sir,” he sputtered out.

“Ok, good boy. Now stand up and go into that room, then put your hands on your head. Don’t take them off till I tell you. If you make any more silly remarks you will have to go about on all fours. Understand?”

“Yes”  he replied plainly. I could see I was having my intended effect.

He walked into the designated room with his hands on his head and immediately let out a gasp. In the room were seated a number of people. Some guards, a receptionist, the senior couple he’d offended at the airport and Mrs Brock and their two boys.

“Oh my!” Mrs Brock said, putting her hand to her mouth. The senior man smiled in delight. The elderly woman at first tried to avert her gaze but then couldn’t help looking straight at Mr Brock’s impressive package.

“Dad!” the 18 year old exclaimed gleefully. “You’re totally nude! Are you really going to get a spanking?”

“Quiet!” his older brother admonished.

Jake Brock had now turned crimson red as he stared at the gathering. He didn’t seem able to move. I pulled up a chair behind Mr Brock, facing the crowd, and asked him if there was anything he had to say to the elderly couple. He didn’t respond so I reached over and whacked his ass making his dick fly upwards as he thrust out his hips. “Ow!” he yelled and the room burst into laughter.

He walked awkwardly to the seated senior couple, hands still on his head and his dick now swinging almost in their faces. The elderly lady kept trying to look at Mr Brock’s face but her eyes kept darting to his groin as he spoke up.

“I’m… uh…. I’m… uh… really sorry for… uh…” he tried to form his words but he kept stuttering and couldn’t quite make a sentence. There was giggling from the crowd as he talked. He looked around at the assembled faces and reflexively moved his hands down to cover himself. He took a furtive glance at me. I glared angrily and when our eyes met, he fearfully put his hands back on his head.

He turned back to the elderly couple and once again resumed his pathetic stuttering apology. The elderly man finally cut him off with: “That’s fine! Now please get your penis out my wife’s face.” Everyone in the room, except Brock, laughed loudly at this remark.

I then told Mr Brock to lie over my lap and he stumbled towards me with a ‘deer in the headlights’ expression on his face. There were more chuckles from the group as he got into this position. I could feel his heavy package pushing onto my lap. He was quite sweaty and had that masculine B.O. Smell.

I caressed his ass with my right hand as I spoke: “Ok, Mr Brock, since you have been acting like a silly little boy, you are now going to get a spanking.” I moved my hand into the hairy area between his legs, making him squirm in shame as I continued. “You will get a spanking just like you spanked your boys until we are all quite satisfied you have paid for your poor behaviour.” I made sure he felt my fingers around the rim of his hairy anus then I pushed against his sphincter ever so gently making him clench his buttocks tight and he let out a small gasp. He was turned away from the room and I could still see him cringing with his eyes shut tightly as I violated him. I could see the two boys craning their necks to get a better view.

I then started to spank him as hard as I could. The crowd looked on with astonishment. WHACK WHACK WHACK; I went on. Soon his ass was as red as his face. He started to lurch with each swat.

“Wow!” one of his boys said loudly. “Dad’s butt is really getting red.” The spanking went on and Mr Brock, who was silent till now, started to grunt with each slap and started to squirm. I’m sure he was trying to appear strong in front of his family because he wasn’t crying out despite the pain he must have been experiencing. I went on. Soon he started to make guttural moans with each slap despite himself.

After a few minutes, his wife told me that she thought her husband had had enough.

“Dad can take it.” his youngest son commented.

“Shut Up!” his older brother responded angrily.

I continued the spanking.

“Ahh!” he started to scream with every new whack to his ass. “Stop!” He started to kick his legs wildly. I signaled for the guards to come up and hold him down against my lap. “Please stop!” he now screamed with his voice cracking. He reached behind him to protect his buttocks but a guard pulled his hand away. “Please… Please!” he begged.

Finally I stopped and he collapsed in my lap. I then told him to get off my lap. He did so slowly, obviously in pain. I had him face away from the crowd which I’m sure he was grateful for, since there were tears plainly running down his face.

“Is dad crying?” the youngest boy asked in awe.

I then told him to bend over and grab his ankles so everyone in the room could see how red his ass was. He looked at me with a pained expression and with a sigh of resignation complied. When he got into that position, he looked back at his audience from between his legs past his swinging nuts. He must have been thinking about what a horrible way it was for his sons to be seeing him.

“Not feeling so arrogant now are you, Mr Brock?” I said. “Look at what you got yourself into.”

He didn’t answer.

“Ok, does everyone think he has learned his lesson?” Everyone in the room nodded the affirmative. I turned my attention back to the bent-over naked man, his parted buttocks a fiery red in contrast to his darkly furred crack and white swinging genitals. “And have you learned your lesson, Mr. Brock?

“Yes” he said quietly.

“Yes what?!” I shouted and gave his ass another hard whack.

“Oww!” he screamed and he jumped up rubbing his buttocks. I hit him again. He cried out again and jumped up and down rubbing his behind. His dick swung wildly in front of him.

“Yes Sir! YES SIR!” he screamed.

Finally he settled down and faced the wall with his hands behind him covering his butt, his shoulders heaving with quiet sobs.

“Ok” I said “I think that is all for today, but I’d better not see you back here again. If I do, it will be a lot worse.”

“Yes Sir!”  he quickly responded and I could hear him sniffle.

I told him that there were many more embarrassing things I could do to him.

“What can be more embarrassing than that?” the older boy blurted out. I couldn’t tell if he was happy or angry at what he’d just witnessed.

The now contrite Mr Jake Brock promised he would never do anything that would ever bring him back to my office. ”I hope not” I told him. “Now you may leave. Your belongings are waiting for you at the front desk.”

The naked man shuffled out looking down at his feet; one hand covering his penis and one in his wife’s hand as she led him out. As they walked by me, she turned and gave me a grateful smile. I winked.

“Wow, look at Dad’s butt!” his youngest boy was heard saying as the rest of the group walked out.

I have, as yet, not heard of any further infractions by Mr Brock. However, just in case, I would appreciate any ideas of what should be done to him if I were to find him back in my office again. Of course, I would very much also appreciate more reports of other bullies needing correction. Ideas of how to correct them are also certainly welcome. I will be very happy to recount more such cases when I hear from you!

CONTINUE THE STORY:PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

Here are the winners for our June vote! It was a close vote so I have placed the tie-breaking votes. Congrats to our winners and a big thanks to all of our authors and everyone who voted. I will be contacting the winners directly to claim their prizes.

Winners
Milking the Sexy Med Student – Part 2 by Leo1202 = 9 Votes
Paintball Pirates – Chapters 1 – 4 by GayStoryTeller = 6 Votes + Tie Breaker
The Many Cummings of Aaron Schock – Chapters 1-3 by Rodd Sterling = 6 Votes + Tie Breaker

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Prizes
The authors of the TOP 3 stories will receive their choice of the following prizes:
-$50(US) Visa Gift Card
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-3 Month Membership to BoundGods.com
-3 Month Membership to MenonEdge.com
-1 Month Membership to DreamBoyBondage.com

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How to Vote
Simply select the stories that have earned your vote then click on the vote button at the bottom of the choices to cast your vote and view current the results. Note: The “Vote” button is lightly colored but will become more visible when you highlight it. It is at the center of of the page under list of stories.

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The captured boys learn their fate. Art by Sherwin.
!–more–

Paintball Pirates – Chapter 4: The Next Morning
by GayStoryTeller
Series: Paintball Pirates

The door to the shed opened and light […]

Brad is the next to be captured. He suffers a tickle torture session with a mysterious man while bound in an uncomfortable position. Art by Sherwin.
[ratings]

Paintball Pirates – Chapter 3: Brad
by GayStoryTeller
Series: Paintball Pirates

Brad was annoyed that Chris had fallen asleep almost as soon as he got in the car. There would be no distractions from the blowhard, Dan. Dan never stopped talking about the money he made as a bond trader, nor about the things he could buy with all his money. Brad had just graduated from art school and the last thing he could relate to was money. The only time Dan’s conversation deviated from his wealth, it was to criticize Brad’s blond-tipped hairstyle.

“Take it easy, Dan,” Jeff said. “He’s an artist.” Brad wasn’t sure if Jeff had defended him or not, but he definitely knew that he that this conversation would have to end. He looked out the car window as the rolling farmland passed by. Brad crossed his arms across his chest and blocked out the sound from the front seat. It wouldn’t be long before they got to the Paintball Park.

This was his fifth time and despite the paramilitary aspects of the game, he really enjoyed himself. He looked at Chris, sitting beside him asleep. He liked Chris, not that he knew very much about him. Chris was gay, of course, but hadn’t said so out loud. At art school, you become pretty savvy about who is gay and who isn’t. Brad was in that distinct minority of male art students who preferred women as his bedmate. It was a great gig. The women loved having a real man in class. And Brad was most definitely real.

Brad would have chosen the path closest to the jeep trail, but he had made a big deal about Chris being the captain, so when Chris chose another path for him, he couldn’t exactly refuse. So, he gave a thumbs up and jogged down the too-well-trodden path in front of him. He hadn’t gone a quarter of a mile when he came to a wooden shack with the green flag taped inside one of the windows. This was too easy. He hid in the bushes off to the side of the shack. Surely this wasn’t the green camp. It was too close and totally unprotected.
He crouched in the bushes for five minutes or so and still there was no movement inside or outside, so he decided it was worth a peak. At least he wouldn’t get shot checking it out. He got up still crouched over and hustled to the door of the shack. It was unlocked and he opened the door and jumped in. There was a single light bulb on in the room, casting a dim glow. Brad looked around warily, but couldn’t see anyone, though there was a second room in the back.

Brad decided to take the flag and run. He ran over to the window to snatch the flag when the light went off, casting the entire room in darkness. It wasn’t a flag at all, but a green board over the window. Brad knew he was in trouble, so he turned around and around shooting paintballs as often as he could. He couldn’t hear another sound, but he knew there had to be someone else here.

All of a sudden, he was grabbed from behind and lifted up off the ground. His gun was knocked from his hands. Brad flailed with his elbows at the man who had him so tightly in a bear hug, but he couldn’t seem to make contact. He kicked and kicked with his heels, but the hug became tighter and tighter, constricting his breathing. Then suddenly, Brad was thrust to the floor. He fell on his shoulder hurting it. In the dark, a number of hands grabbed at him.

Brad was picked up again and squeezed in a bear-hug. Every attempt to kick and flail was met by someone grabbing a hand or foot. The hands held fast and Brad was aware that his boots, socks, and coveralls were being removed. Soon, his undershirt and shorts were ripped from him. In a matter of moments, Brad was stripped bare.

Still in the grip of the powerful arms, he was placed into a seat. His wrists were bound in leather cuffs. Then his feet were pulled back and upwards. They were strapped into leather cuffs. When they let go of his ankles, he relaxed and his knees slipped down. Brad couldn’t image what was happening. All of a sudden, both arms were jerked violently over his head, each being pulled so far apart that he thought his arms would pull out of his shoulder sockets. When the sound of the chains jangling stopped, there was a shuffling of many feet. Then it was very quiet. Brad yelled for help.

The light went on, this time much brighter. Before him stood four men, none of whom he recognized from the game, but all of whom wore coveralls and T-shirts. The fattest of the four whispered, “Fantastic!” when he saw Brad before him. He walked towards him and run his finger around Brad’s erect right nipple. Those pink nipples were hyper sensitive and stuck out so far that Brad had to be careful of the shirts he chose. The fat man lingered on those sensitive nipples watching Brad’s face tighten and his breaths shorten. He smiled knowing that this was going to be a great session. Finally, he move his fingers across Brad’s chest, tracing the outline of brown hair that formed a light brown cloud between his pecs. Brad wriggled furiously, but refused to make a sound.

The finger traced the single line of hair down his hairless, muscle-etched abs to the bushy pubic hair below. Then the hand grabbed Brad’s uncut penis, pulling back the foreskin and stroking the glans with two fingers. Brad yelled for help.

Retracing back up Brad’s abdomen, the man’s fingers ran across the exposed ribcage and up to the lightly-haired armpit. Brad twitched at the ticklish sensation. From the armpit, he stroked across the shoulder and up the neck to Brad’s face. Despite the brown hair, his Nordic background was clear in his face. The blue eyes that peered up at the man almost glowed, so aqua were the corneas. Brad shook his head to stop the man from stroking his cheek.

“Fantastic!” the man repeated. He stepped back.

Now that the light was on, Brad could see that he was in some sort of chair with his knees bent on a bar and his feet immobilized behind him, strapped to a narrower version of the seat he sat on. His arms were, as he expected, stretched full out by chains that were bolted to the ceiling. He yanked on the chains but there was virtually no give in them. He couldn’t move his feet or legs, although he could slide his bum a little on the seat. He took a breath in and tried to break free of all the shackles at once, but nothing gave. Brad started to scream as loudly as he’d ever screamed. Nobody made a move to stop him. Brad screamed and screamed until he was exhausted. No one came to the door to help him. The four men stood in front of him, as if waiting for a bus.

When he couldn’t scream any more, Brad whimpered and hung his head. The fat man took the two steps forward and again reached out for his exposed ribs. “Are you ready?” he asked.

Brad looked up at him. “Please don’t hurt me,” he said. “Please.”

The fat man laughed. “I promise, we won’t hurt you one bit, sugar.”

“I’ll do whatever you want if you just don’t hurt me,” Brad continued.

“Again, Cherie, I promise — we won’t hurt a hair on your head. You just cooperate with us and you’ll be just fine”, the man said, his voice soothing.

“If its sex you want, you don’t have to tie me up like this,” Brad said, sounding hopeful. “I’ll cooperate.”

One of the other men laughed. The fat man stared back at his colleague. “All in good time, sweetie,” the fat man said, caressing Brad’s cheek. Tears welled up in Brad’s eyes. “Now, now, no tears, son”, the fat man said. “We’re all men here.”

Brad looked up, trying to stop the tears. “Then what do you want?” he asked.

“To tickle you,” the man replied quietly. The other three men stepped towards Brad and surrounded him. “Just relax and go with it,” the man continued. “It’ll be much easier for you that way.”

Immediately, eight hands began to tickle Brad simultaneously. These were very experienced ticklers and Brad was soon convulsed with laughter. The sensations came from all over his body — this armpits, chest, neck, thighs, feet… every nerve ending in his body spasmed at the touch of the stroking fingers. After a few minutes, Brad became very tired, especially in the diaphragm, as his abdominal muscles reacted to every touch. It became harder and harder to get a breath through the laughter. The intense sensations were coming from every part of his body. The tickling was relentless. His breaths were shorter and shorter. Then suddenly, everything stopped and it was black.

When Brad awoke, the fat man was gently stroking his ribcage. “OK, sweetie?” he asked. Brad looked up at him but didn’t say a word. “We’ll go slower. We don’t want to knock you right out, honey.” From behind him, Brad felt the soles of his feet being slowly stroked. Try as he might to wriggle free, he couldn’t. He tried not to laugh, but couldn’t do that either, finally exploding. The man behind him continued to tickle slowly for what seemed like hours. Brad laughed until he cried for exhaustion, but they never took his breath away again.

Once the man tired of his feet, one of the others began to tickle under the left armpit and rib area, extending his fingers across Brad’s downy chest to his nipple. The nipple tickling drove Brad crazy. He trembled violently, shaking his head furiously as the tickling sensations reached every nerve in his body. This only encouraged more tickling on each light pink nipple. They became more and more erect at each stroke. Brad realized that his penis was also becoming more and more erect, a matter of considerable interest to the fat man.

The fat man took a feather and gently tickled Brad’s penis, glans, and scrotum. Brad found the sensation explosive and within a couple of minutes had cum all over the red feather. “Bravo,” said the fat man. “We’ll see an encore of that, no doubt.” Brad was exhausted and hung limply from the chains.

Suddenly, the fourth man put his hand on Brad’s nipples. The electric charge of the ice cubes went straight to Brad’s brain, clearing away the cobwebs of exhaustion. The man’s hands explored Brad’s entire body, awakening each nerve ending with its icy touch. Behind the ice-bath, the tickling fingers followed, with even greater effect than before.

“Stop,” Brad gasped. “Stop.”

The men continued their slow, devastatingly effective tickling. “Soon, baby, soon,” the fat man replied. One of the men pushed Brad forward, exposing his bum. Then a feather parted his cheeks and tickled his asshole. Brad went wild. He was humiliated, but was electrified by the sensation. Again, he felt his prick stiffen. A second man lifted him slightly and the fat man grabbed his cock and stroked firmly and rhythmically for a few minutes. Brad was powerless to resist. The cum churned in his nuts and exploded out with as much force as the first time. His stomach muscles were aching from contractions and the ejaculation seemed to be the last straw for them. They began to spasm.

Brad cried out. “Stop!” At first, the tickling continued, but Brad gasped in pain and again yelled for them to stop. The men complied, lowering him firmly back into the chair.

Brad’s stomach muscles calmed and the fat man stroked them soothingly. “You did fine, Cherie,” the man cooed. “Most men don’t last twenty minutes. You’ve been going strong for over an hour. You’ll do just fine.”

Brad looked into his eyes. “What do you mean by that?”

The man stroked Brad’s exposed ribs and nipples on last time and kissed him gently on the forehead. “You’ll see, love.”

They turned and opened the shed door, leaving quickly. The fat man was the last to go. He turned to Brad, smiled, and switched off the light. Then he was gone.

CONTINUE THE STORY:PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

Professor Strange’s plan is finally revealed and Superman finds himself submitting to a new master in the final chapter of Todd Fleming’s hot series.
!–more–

Strange Dealings: The Fall of Superman – […]

Next up to be captured is gay boy Chris who thinks he’s about a to have dream kinky hook-up but instead suffers a brutal whipping beyond his imagination. Art by Sherwin.
[ratings]

Paintball Pirates – Chapter 2: Chris
by GayStoryTeller
Series: Paintball Pirates
Art by Sherwin

As the car entered Paintball Park, Chris awoke in the back seat. He was immediately worried that he had rested his head on Brad’s shoulder, but one look at Brad told him he hadn’t made such a gaffe. Chris still wasn’t sure whether he knew Brad and Jeff well enough to come out to them and he certainly didn’t want to initiate physical contact with them. He didn’t know this guy, Dan, except that last weekend he’d been a real macho jerk in his first time out.

Jeff turned around as they approached the Paintball Center. “This week, we’re playing teams,” he said. “I signed you guys up as one of the teams. OK?”

The three looked at each other and nodded. They didn’t know each other much, but were all pretty athletic, so they figured it would work out OK. They piled out of the car.

Chris was the only one who had to change. The other guys had worn their paintball clothes and would be changing when the game was over. Chris was embarrassed that he hadn’t prepared, but they waited patiently while he went into the shower room and doffed his overalls and boots.

When he returned to the group, they were sitting in three jeeps. He jumped in with his teammates and the three jeeps took different paths into the forest. When they got to their base, the jeep dropped them off and disappeared back the way it came. Base was a tent and a clearing, a yellow flag flying over the tent. They attached the yellow ribbons to their coveralls and sat down. It was 8:55. Just enough time to plan a little strategy.

“I’ll be captain”, Dan said.

Brad shook his head. “You’ve only played once. That’s not enough experience. Chris, you be captain this week. You’ll get plenty of chances to be captain later, Dan.”

Chris nodded his head. He realized that Brad must dislike Dan pretty intensely, because it was clear to everyone, even Chris, that he had the least leadership skills of the three of them. He was too quiet and shy to order anybody around. But he’d have to try.

“There are four paths from this base, plus the jeep track. We know that none of the other bases are on the jeep track and we couldn’t see a base as we drove here,” Chris began to say. “So let’s each take the three paths the lead furthest away from the car path.”

“Shouldn’t we leave someone here to guard the flag?” Dan asked.

“All the teams are in the same boat,” Brad replied before Chris could speak. “If we all go out, then we’ll have one more man on the offensive. I agree with Chris.”

“The forest is really dense. Once we’ve split up, it’ll be hard to find each other,” Dan countered.
“But we can all retrace our steps,” Chris replied. “I say, we split in three, mark our own trail and find the other camps.”

“OK,” Dan said, shrugging. “It’s only a game.”

They heard the game whistle and stood up. They looked at the three paths away from the jeep track. Chris pointed down one of the paths and signaled for Dan to follow it. Dan started off tentatively. He pointed at the next trail and signaled Brad down it. Brad nodded to him, smiled, and clenched his fist. “One green flag coming up!” he said, and jogged into the brush. Chris turned down the third path, but paused to look around before he left. Dan was right – the brush was dense and he’d already lost sight of his teammates. Maybe he should just stay here and guard home base. What a wimp, he thought, and marched purposefully down the path.

After he’d gone no more than a hundred yards, Chris was pushed to the ground from behind. Once on the ground, a pair of hands held Chris’s face in the dirt, while other hands pushed down on his shoulders. As his mouth was wide open, he was quite literally eating dirt. He struggled, trying to push himself up, but the bodies and hands on top of him held him down. No matter how he tried to turn his head, the hands held firm grabbing Chris’s short, black hair, pushing him further and further into the dirt. He became afraid that he would be suffocated. The other hands pulled at his coveralls, ripping them off his shoulders. Another set of hands unlaced and removed his boots, then his socks. Chris realized that he was being stripped. He had an immediate image of an orgy in the woods, a lifelong fantasy, and tried to tell his attackers that he was OK.

He relaxed, letting the attackers remove his coveralls and undershorts without a struggle. He felt his T-shirt ripped off his shoulders, which burned more than he’d thought. Then, the hands on the back of his head let go. He turned his head and looked up into the face of Dale, a young man who’d been a teammate of Chris’s last weekend. Chris had hoped to see Dale again this weekend so he could find out whether Dale was gay. If he was, Chris planned to ask him out. When he saw that it was Dale among his attackers, he smiled.

The other two guys grabbed Chris by each shoulder and hauled him to his feet. Chris had been working out for three years now and he had, he could admit to himself, an amazing body. His biceps and triceps were well-muscled; his shoulders and chest powerful, with well-defined pectoral muscles highlighted by large, erect, dark brown nipples. His chest and well-muscled stomach were covered lightly by short, black sprouts of hair. “It’s OK,” Chris said, still smiling. “It’s OK, I’m into it.” He realized that he had an enormous erection, bending his cock like a banana.

Chris saw the rage in Dale’s eyes and it terrified him. Dale lifted his hand and slapped Chris across the cheek hard. Chris took a step back, touched his cheek and started to step forward to Dale, when the two men grabbed him from behind by the shoulders. “Fucking faggot,” Dale spat. “Are you into this?” Dale punched Chris hard in the stomach, doubling him over and taking away his breath momentarily.

The two unfamiliar men yanked Chris upright, one of them pulling on his hair to bring his face up. The other slapped tape across Chris’s mouth. In the meantime, Dale took a long, heavy rope out of a bag and tied Chris’s hands together in front of him with one end. Though stunned and scared to death, Chris realized that his erection became even larger. Cocks truly have a mind of their own.

Once his hands were tied, Dale turned and began to walk off the path through the forest, yanking the rope. The others pushed Chris by the shoulders into the forest. Chris immediately stubbed his toe on a tree root, a muffled grunt coming through the tape. But Dale just kept pulling and the others just kept pushing Chris forward.

After ten minutes or so, they came to a small clearing under a large tree. One of the men climbed the tree to a solid branch that over hanged the clearing. Dale threw the rope up a couple of times before the man caught it. Then he jerked the rope up, lifting Chris’s arms into the air. The man pulled the rope up, lifting Chris higher and higher, until he was only able to touch the ground with his toes. Then, the rope was looped firmly around the branch a few times and thrown back to the third man on the ground, who tied the other end to a smaller tree on the edge of the clearing.

The three of them stood back to scrutinize their prize. Before them, on his tiptoes stood a naked beauty, exposed in every way a body can be. His body was perfect. The muscles were stretched to the limit, revealing their every sinew. Chris’s face was quite handsome. His olive skin and strong jawline were enhanced by a perfect five o’clock shadow that Chris maintained carefully.

Their captive still had his enormous erection. Dale stepped forward, looked directly into Chris’s sad, brown eyes and slapped the erect penis as hard as he could. The pain cut through Chris like a knife, but the penis bounced right back. Dale slapped it again, harder still. Chris tried to kick him, but Dale grabbed Chris’s foot and pulled him forward up off his toes. One of the other men, pushed from behind and Chris realized that he was no longer in contact with the ground. After they had lifted him a couple of feet off the ground, they calmly let go, swinging Chris back and forth. The strain on his shoulders and arms was intense, bringing burning tears to Chris’s eyes.

When he stopped swinging, the three smirking figures stood in front of him. In Dale’s hand was a doubled over leather belt, which he smacked into the palm of one hand. Chris wriggled to free himself, but there was no escape. The rope only dug more deeply into his wrists. Dale walked around Chris, all the while hitting his palm.

Chris closed his eyes in anticipation of his whipping. Nothing happened for a minute. He looked over his shoulder to Dale, who merely smiled at him and shrugged. “It’s worth the wait, buddy,” he said, sneering.

Chris turned back to face the other men, who were now rummaging through a bag at the base of the tree. Then, a stinging, burning lash cut right across Chris’s buttocks. He gasped in pain and tried to scream through the tape. Quickly, a second lash followed in the same place. The pain flooded Chris’s brain. Another lash from the belt streaked across his back, then another, then another… then everything went black.

Chris awoke to the acrid burning from smelling salts, which one man held under his nose. The second man was applying cool, damp facecloth to his forehead, which felt good. When Chris opened his eyes, they stood back. Chris realized that his hair was wet, either from perspiration or from a bottle of water. Chris looked again at Dale, who stood before him, his eyes pleading for mercy. From behind, one of the men punched Chris hard in the kidneys. The pain caused him to squeal through the tape.

His feet were lifted from behind and his ankles tied together with a thick rope. One man held the rope while another repeatedly hit the soles of his feet with a bamboo switch. Each lash was excruciating. Chris began to scream uncontrollably through the tape. He was sure he felt his skin cut and sure enough, when he looked down, he saw drops of blood on the ground. But the beating of his feet continued, until Chris began to convulse in his bounds. The beating stopped and one of the men took off the tape. Chris vomited on the ground in front of him.

Once he had stopped, one of them wiped his mouth with a torn t-shirt. “Please, no,” Chris plead, tears streaming down his face. “I’ll do anything you want if you just stop.”

Dale smiled evilly, his blue eyes piercing Chris. “But you’re doing just what we want right now.” Then he began to laugh uncontrollably, his long, white, freckled face mocking Chris. With his flaming red hair, Dale seemed to Chris to be the devil incarnate.

Before he could say anything more, one of the others slapped another piece of tape across Chris’s mouth. Dale reached down into the bag and picked out a long knotted cat of nine tails. Chris wriggled and pleaded with grunts and tears, but to no avail. Dale leaned back and with all his might, lashed Chris again across his abdomen. Chris screamed, but Dale was already whipping his abdomen again. Three, four, five lashes of the cat … Chris blacked out again.

His head hanging, when Chris opened his eyes, he saw a mass of welts and oozing cuts across his chest and stomach. Dale had moved behind Chris and began the beating again. The cat of nine tails streaked across his back, raking the already tender flesh. Again and again, Dale whipped him. Chris slumped in his restraints, losing consciousness again.

“Dale, for Christ sake, look what you’re doing!” one of the others finally said. “You’re going to kill him.”
“Shut up,” Chris heard Dale reply.

“No, Tony’s right, Dale. We’re supposed to beat him up, not beat the pulp out of him,” a third voice chimed in.
“Fuck you, wuss,” Dale replied.

“Give me the whip, Dale,” the first voice said. “You’ve already cut him up too much. The boss will string us all up if we don’t stop now.”

There was a tussle behind him, which evidently was won by the others, as one of the others walked back to the bag and dropped the whip into it. He picked out a couple of bottles of water and some rags. He tossed one of the bottles of water and handed the rags out to Dale and the other guy. The three of them walked over to Chris and roughly washed his wounds.

The guy in front of Chris looked down at his still erect penis. “Dale, I know you won’t like it, but this guy has been hard for over an hour. I’ve just got to jerk him off.” Dale grunted, while the man’s hand grasped the long, curved penis and slowly stroked back and forth. Chris ached everywhere, but somehow the warm sensation of the man’s hand on his cock filled him for a moment. It was only a few minutes until he felt the cum accumulate in his balls and shoot out like a howitzer, spewing at least three feet. The stroker laughed. “You’ve still got some power in you,” he said, a hint of admiration in his voice.

Once Chris was cleaner, they cut him down. He fell to the ground through weakness and exhaustion. He tried to stand, but the pain in his feet was intolerable and he couldn’t do it. The two other men grabbed under each arm and half-carried, half-dragged him behind Dale through the brush. A few yards from the clearing, they opened an outhouse door and threw Chris in, locking it with a padlock. Chris lay on the floor of the outhouse. His tears flowed. Totally exhausted, he fell asleep.

CONTINUE THE STORY:PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

Seth meets his cellmate, Matthew, and learns more about life on The Farm.

The Crucifixion of Seth Logan – Chapter 6: Matthew
by UKBastinado
Series: The Crucifixion of Seth Logan

The slave cell was an […]

Bad Dad It’s Father’s Day Weekend so why not a little discipline from a questionable step-dad in the form of a hot spanking story from Nico. Art by […]