Date: Mon, 24 Jul 2017 07:25:45 +0200 (CEST) From: Kit Rudo Subject: Please Uncle A- Part 3 Again, this is a fictional story. It has never happened. It is not an invitation for you to make it happen. If you're going to get sexy, do it with consenting adults and please be safe. It's harmless to dream of a world where condoms aren't necessary and children can give informed consent, but please don't confuse reality and fantasy. Also, if it's illegal for you to be reading this type of fiction where you live, or if you are under 18, please hit the back button. And please also consider supporting Nifty by making a donation. If you've had more orgasms from reading Nifty stories than you can count on one hand, I think you're in the Archive's debt. http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html ---------------------------------------- My apologies to those who read chapters 1 & 2 last year and were promised a third chapter that never came! As always, reader feedback is so very much appreciated. One email is often what makes a difference between a writer giving up and finding the motivation to keep going. If you haven't read chapters 1 & 2, what are you doing here? Go back. Read them. Chapter 3 is no place to start reading a three-part story. *WARNING/DISCLAIMER* This chapter, in addition the usual perversities, contains a pretty thorough spanking scene. It's located somewhere between the "+++++++" paragraph breaks, should you wish to avoid it altogether. This is the final installment of my first story ever published. Feedback is encouraged and appreciated! Even just a quick hello! [kitrudo@tutamail.com] ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- PLEASE UNCLE A - PART 3 By Kit Rudo +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ The scent of our lovemaking had lingered in the dark, stuffy bedroom air when I woke up to a chilly Saturday morning. Apparently, my share of the covers had been taken from me over the course of the night, and Dennie ended up with a bundle of them held against his chest. He lay facing away from me, his back pressed against my side, and the length of his bare leg poked out from underneath the blanket. He slept peacefully still. His deep, constant breathing was like music to my ears. I wouldn't call it a snore. It was too soft and lacked the rumble to be considered a snore. What I heard was a sweet, nasally, high-pitched, husky treble tune, bordering on a wheeze. Hearing him made me want to pounce at his tender little neck and suckle the melody right out of his throat. He stirred, never losing sleep, and turned away, exposing more of his behind to me. There was a dried cum stain in the seat of his undies. I must have really shot a torrent inside him if he was still leaking even after having emptied himself before bed. Looking up and down his enchanting form, my morning wood certainly approved of the sight of him. I sat up, gently rolled him a bit further, so he was flat on his tummy, and pulled the covers from between his legs, exposing him completely. Careful not to wake him, I picked up his ankles, bending his knees, and spread his legs apart so his feet were hovering over his sightly behind, facing each other. I leaned into them, diving in for the first morning whiff. I could smell nine hours of confinement under the covers, trapped in their own gentle nighttime warmth. I could smell contented post-climactic toe wiggles. I could smell deep, undisturbed little boy sleep, during which his pure aromas intensified. My tongue advanced on his arches and I licked my way up to his toes, and in across his pads. Bringing his feet together slightly, I mashed them against either side of my tongue, maximizing contact with the velvety tanginess of his buttery flesh. I kissed the pad of his right foot and felt the toes curl reflexively into my upper lip. Dennie twitched and whimpered softly but otherwise appeared to sleep through my slobbering all over his feet. Pulling back, I admired the slimy coat of spit all over the upper parts of Dennie's soles and toes. Without giving it another second's thought, I held them together with one hand, and let out my straining erection with the other. I shuffled forward and pushed my willing cock into the indent between Dennie's arches, drawing a sharp breath in at the powerful stimulation. I slid in and out of the grip of his soles, fucking my loved boy's feet while he slept. I had never done this first thing in the morning, so my mushroom tip got acquainted with the slightly stiff, yet still unbearably tender flesh of morning boyfeet before it gets to loosen up from nighttime immobility. The meat of his soles had a bit more give than they would after a day of activity. "Mmmhh... hmm?" Dennie was starting to awaken, looking around to gauge what was going on. "Good morning, baby boy." "Mmmmmhhmmnng" was as articulate as his response could be. "I'm making you a nice, warm breakfast." I panted as I continued to slide between his moist planks, getting closer and closer. His toes squirmed against my shaft, strongly encouraging the arrival of my orgasm. "Ohhhh, baby. OHHH, HERE IT COMES, BABY. NNNNNGGGHHHHH!" A sea of euphoria overtook my nervous system as I let loose one volley of cum after another, painting his feet with my load. I had angled my cock up along his soles in order to catch my semen with his toes, and continued fucking his little puppies until they had milked me dry. "Ohh," he peeped weakly, no doubt feeling the warm impact of my cum. Panting, spent, exhilarated, I pulled his ankles upward, lifting most of his body off the bed, then flipped him over. He was now facing up, his weight resting on his neck and shoulders, at least, whatever weight I wasn't holding up in my grasp on his legs. His soles remained facing upwards, each holding safely onto its puddles of cum. His eyes still weren't fully open when I set him down, but he came to when I guided his feet towards his face. "Eat it, baby. Get it while it's hot." With him being just flexible enough, I pushed his cummy soles towards his face but didn't need to do any more than that. His hands reached up and grabbed onto the tops of his feet, bringing glazed toes and streaky pads right to his lips. Gaining more consciousness by the second, he feasted on my semen, licking his own feet until they were sparkly clean. I took a minute to savour and study the sight below me. Feet. A set of body parts just as worthy as any other, if not way more than some, yet systematically overlooked and underappreciated. Boyfeet were more than a mere accessory to sex in my eye. I could dedicate an entire weekend to a stunning pair like Dennie's. Kissing soles, sucking toes, licking arches for days, coating them with load after load of my own spunk. One thought led to the next as I recovered from my first orgasm of the day, and a very significant memory overrode my musings. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ It was the summer after 6th grade and I spent the bulk of it at camp. Like many of my peers, I was a friendly, active, rambunctious tyke. I often had a hard time grasping the concept of boundaries and hadn't quite developed the handy habit of thinking before acting, but then again, not many others had, either. This unfortunate yet common combination of traits frequently landed me in trouble; at home, at school, and definitely at camp as well. Another habit of mine consisted of taking out my issues on others. Textbook definition of bullying, except that contrition generally followed, at some point, and to varying degrees. So it didn't feel like bullying when I made Freddie Newton cry by pinning him on his own bed in the room we shared, and sitting on him with my bare feet pressed against his face, happily shouting "smell my stinky feet, bitch!" with a complicit audience of fellow tween bunkmates cheering me on. I stopped laughing when Jake, the camp counsellor boywonder, showed up at the door, furious. "What's going on in here!?" It only took him a second to hear Freddie's wails over all the cheering and process our positioning on the bed. "Alex! Get off him!" He looked furious and I felt my heart rise up to my throat. He ordered everyone else to the mess hall and went over to Freddie to make sure he was OK. "I'll be back in a sec, Freddie. You," he turned around and pointed at me sternly. "Come with me." I gulped as he steered me, hands on my shoulders, out of the room and just two doors down the hall. It all happened so quickly and I didn't have time to say a word, much less try to plead my defense. He stopped in front of the door to his room and turned me to face the opposite wall. He placed me right up against the wall and put my hands on top of my head. "Nose and toes against this wall, and don't move." I had no reason to predict his next move when he pinched the sides of my shorts and pulled them down around my calves. "I'll be back to deal with you," he declared, heading back to Freddie. I gulped. Shit. Would he... ? Maybe this was just a scare tactic. Yeah. Camp counsellors do that all the time. They make you think you're in big trouble so you feel really sorry, then grateful when they let you off easier than you expected. It's easier for them than to actually punish every single time a boy misbehaves. A million thoughts ran through my mind as I hoped for the best. I was always so optimistic when I was about to be punished. I was about to be punished. My nose started burning and my knees wobbled as I felt my optimism slip away, bringing me closer to tears. I had been parked against a wall with my shorts pulled down. The sight of me, should anyone walk by and bear witness, hands on my head and no more than a thin layer of white cotton covering my behind, was a universal indicator of what was more than likely about to happen to me. In an act of silly desperation, I shot my hands down to hold my bottom, as though that would protect it in any way, then immediately brought them back to their intended placement, afraid that Jake would know I'd acted against his instruction. I heard the faint sounds of Freddie's cries subsiding, accompanied by the soft tone of Jake's soothing words. Comparing the way he was comforting Freddie to the tone he'd taken with me made it really hard not to burst into tears right then and there. I suddenly felt so alone and really sad. I so wanted him to wrap his arms around me, tell me that I was forgiven, and it was going to be okay. But I knew that he would likely take a very, very different approach with me. Why had I been so mean to Freddie? That wasn't like me. Was it? It really hadn't been my intention. My anxiety built and my throat went dry with the fear of not being able to argue my case when the time came. And then it came. I heard Jake's approaching footsteps. My lungs couldn't keep up with me. I heard him open his door behind me before he addressed me. "In here, Alex." He sounded more composed than before but the disappointment was still evident in his tone. I spun around quickly, dropping my hands to cover the pouch of my underpants, eager to clutch at my last thread of modesty. I saw him standing inside his room, holding the door open. "Jake... please. I didn't mean to..." "Get inside, Alex." I whimpered at the strictness of his tone as I waddled into his room, the shorts around my ankles greatly limiting my ability to walk in a less ridiculous manner. As I did so, Jake went to sit on the edge of his twin bed. He pointed at the floor between his feet. When I reached him, he placed his hands on my waist. I trembled at his touch, and the immediacy of the situation. I still remember feeling the soft grasp of his fingers around the exposed skin at my waist, under the hemline of my shirt, and how it felt like my predicament had just gotten ten times more real. "Jake. Please, I'm really sorry." My voice was tight and I was very close to tears. "Now where have I heard that before?" he said bitterly, sounding purposely dramatic. I could feel his stare boring through me even though I was looking intently at the floor. "Oh, I remember. Not even two weeks ago, when I caught you holding Lionel's head down in the river. Yes, that's right, you were "really sorry" then, too. Or am I mistaken, Alex? I could only stammer for a moment. So far, nothing he said could serve me as a cue to apologize profusely, beg for mercy, or promise to be good, so my usual trying-to-get-out-of-punishment gameplan was thwarted. If anything, he was making me out to be even more deserving of his disappointment, and that felt like my heart was tying itself into a fisherman's knot. "Well?" "But Ja-" "Answer the question, Alex." He allowed me a moment before prompting me again. "No... I mean... you're right. But Jake-" "But for some reason, I thought talking to you about it was enough. I figured I'd reason with you like a grown-up and you would appreciate that and learn your lesson; that it wouldn't be necessary to punish you. I thought, surely you wouldn't be so ungrateful and do the exact same thing to another boy, not even two weeks later?" I continued to examine the carpet as Jake took a brief, haunting pause in his lecture. "Well," he picked up. "I guess some boys learn through here," he said as his right hand left my waist so he could tap my temple with his index finger, "and others through here..." that same hand came back down, past my waist, and reached around to pat my butt, menacingly. No, this wasn't just a menace anymore. My fate had been signed and sealed. Try as I might to squeeze my whole face shut, I couldn't stop the single tear that ran down my cheek "Jake..." I spoke weakly, now well past any hope for success. "I'm sorry! I won't do it again. Pleease!" My words shook as I felt the imminent approach of my doom. "No, Alex." He spoke firmly as he pulled me towards him. "You've had your second chance." And just like that, I found myself upended over Jake's lap, my upper body resting on the bed and my butt raised over his leg. "Noo- wait!" I wailed as the finality of it all registered. The chronology of events leading up to this moment seemed surreal. And then the humiliation of my predicament was so tangible I was aware of nothing else. I had only ever been spanked by my parents. It was a common occurrence then. I didn't even have any big ideas about being "too old for it" at the time. I was a 12-year-old who was subject to parental spankings, just like every other 12-year-old I knew. But this was the first time I was getting a spanking from someone other than my father or my mother, let alone someone I looked up to and worshiped like Jake. The idea of getting spanked at camp wasn't technically inconceivable. We all knew the counselors could resort to it if necessary, as did most adults in positions of authority in our lives, but we didn't exactly give it much thought. It had never actually occurred to me. Never had I actually considered that I could get into enough trouble to warrant such punishment myself, here at camp, where I had established such a respectable standing. Well, respectable by the boys' standards, at least. In a matter of minutes I was on my way from cool kid to punished little boy. I felt Jake's fingers grasp the waistband of my underpants and had to try begging for his mercy one last time. "No! Pleeease, Jake. Please, don't!" "That's enough. What you did was unacceptable, Alex. There are consequences for your actions, and for what you just did, you're getting a spanking." He tugged my undies down and lowerd them to join my shorts in a puddle at my calves. I felt the cool evening mountain air caress my exposed cheeks. I had been bared. Not stripped. Not undressed. Just bared. And that made it so much more embarrassing. Nudity was actually pretty commonplace at camp and none of us had a problem being naked around other boys, or even grown-ups, for that matter. Being bared for a spanking, however, was an entirely different, and mortifying, scenario. What's more, having my shorts and underwear pulled down rather than being fully naked felt especially humiliating in a less-is-more kind of way. It was so intentional, so circumstantial. My bare butt and legs were framed by my shirt and the tangle of bottoms at my feet, leaving no doubt as to which part of me had been uncovered and why. My clothes had been moved out of the way so that my bottom could be bared for a spanking. That contrast made me feel particularly vulnerable and unprotected. It was just a minimal and utilitarian move. And I felt beyond naked. Wrapping his left arm around my waist, Jake rested his right hand on the crown of my bottom. The enormity of feeling his bare hand coming in contact with my bare butt is something I'll never forget. This was way more intimacy than I wanted to share with Jake. He was the cool 19-year-old I worshiped and who was so good at everything he did. At the age of 12, a 19-year-old was like a total grown-up, yet still young enough to be admired, and getting his validation and attention meant the world to me. But this. This was a very different kind of attention. I scrunched up my face, pressed into the rough material of the wool blanket, willing myself not to start crying. I couldn't let Jake hear me cry. I'd have to be brave and tough it out without making a sound. "Alex, what you just did to Freddie is considered bullying." I felt utter shame. I wasn't being abused or mistreated. I was being punished. For something I had actually done. I wasn't the victim here. This wasn't unfair. In fact, it was entirely deserved. I never realized that Jake had lifted his hand until it came swinging down in a swift, loud swat, connecting with the crown of my left cheek. Forced back to reality, I yelped in surprise more than anything, as the temporary sting of the first swat dissipated quickly. It was matched a second later by an identical smack to my right cheek, but I was able to grit my teeth and keep it in for that one. Jake spanked methodically, keeping a fairly regular rhythm and intensity. He was smacking me slow and hard. Hard enough that it stung for the few seconds between each spank. Slow enough that there was a heavy, humiliating, silent stillness in the air after I yelped and before his palm struck back. Back and forth, from cheek to cheek, sharp smacks rained down on my bottom. His hand was large enough to cover most of each cheek, and too soon, the life span of the sting following each swat outgrew the second- long pause between smacks. The heat was building in my bottom and my grunts turned into whimpers and then yelps. Sensing that he was starting to get my attention, Jake broke his cadence to work in a lecture. "We do not tolerate this kind of behaviour from anyone here." He followed his admonishment with a much harder swat to the center of my bottom. I learned then that his hand could actually cover a decent portion of my entire butt. "Ow!" I yelped in alarm. "I'm sorry!" *SMACK* He disregarded my apology. The tears in my eyes threatened to spill over. "I'm disappointed in your behaviour, Alex." *SMACK* "OW- pleeease, please! I'm really sorry!" The effort I put into begging distracted me from my attempt to hold back the tears and the dam broke. One deep sob was all it took, and I burst into solid, honest-to-God crying. "I'm sorry, Jake. Please don't hate me!" Gone was my resolve and determination to take it like a big boy. All I wanted was to show Jake my sincere remorse so he would stop spanking me; so he would forgive me. Knowing that I had disappointed him hurt almost as much as the fire he was building in my butt. Jake paused at my interjection and his hand rested on my butt again, rubbing sympatethically. "I don't hate you, Alex." His voice was kind but still as firm. "I'm doing this because I care about you. You're getting punished so you can learn from your mistakes and put this behind you. I know you can be a good boy if try a little harder, kiddo." I hoped against all odds that this was a reprieve but Jake's hand was smacking me again and this time with renewed force. "Freddie was really hurt by what you did." And it didn't seem like he was about to stop anytime soon. *SMACK* "Ahhh-ha-howww! I'm sorryyy! I wuh-won't do it again, I promiseee!" *SMACK* "And I'm going to make sure of that." *SMACK* I wailed, hitched, sobbed, and pleaded to no avail. My behind was already burning and I squirmed and kicked, trying to get off Jake's lap. Instead of successfully escaping his grip, I felt my bottom rise up even higher when Jake braced his foot against the frame of the bed, jackknifing me further. "You will not bully other children ever again. Do you understand?" *SMACK* "OW, OW, OWWW!" That last one had targeted my left sit-spot, right where bottom curved into upper thigh, and the pain was on a whole new level, causing me to scream and erasing the short-lived memory of Jake's last statement. I reached back in an attempt to protect my bottom, but Jake was quick to grab my wrist and hold it against my back, strengthening his hold on me. *SMACK* Now it was my leg that felt my disciplinarian's displeasure. "I asked you a question, Alex." "AAHH! Yes- Yes, sir!" *SMACK* Back up to the sit-spots. "You won't pin other boys down against their will..." *SMACK* "... Nor will you try to humiliate them by sticking your feet in their face." *SMACK* "And you certainly *SMACK* won't *SMACK* call anyone *SMACK* a bitch, *SMACK* ever again. *SMACK*" Thankfully, Jake hadn't required any further participation from me in his lecture. At that point, I'd been reduced to a blubbering, bawling mess, crying miserably into the bedding. I could barely keep up with the hitching sobs as I watched a pool of my snot and tears form on the blanket. Individual smacks fused into one another as the burning in my butt became a single, nonstop, unbearable sensation. "In fact, you're also going to make sure, to the best of your ability, that no one else gets bullied for the remainder of your stay here." *SMACK* "You're going to personally stand up for any boy you see getting intimidated. *SMACK* And if I feel that you didn't at the very least try your best, *SMACK* I'll puinsh you the same way I punish the bully." And just in case I was unsure what kind of punishment he was talking about, he landed three consecutive and agonizing swats to the center of my bottom, adding an octave to the pitch of my wails. "And if that bully happens to be you, *SMACK* you'll be cutting yourself a switch." *SMACK* I just wailed harder, my overworked mind unable to even conceive of anything more painful than this, yet still registering the gravity of that threat. "So you'd better be an exceptionally good boy from now until your parents come pick you up, *SMACK* if you don't want to find yourself over my knee again." My feet were kicking as much as they could within the restraint of my shorts and underpants. "And you're also going to go out of your way to be extra nice to Freddie, and make sure no one else gives him a hard time." *SMACK* "Do I make myself perfectly clear?" *SMACK* I'm not sure how comprehensible my cry of "Yes, Sir!" was amidst my hitching sobs and howling, but he seemed satisfied with the response, although I didn't fully realize he had stopped spanking me until a minute had passed of him gently rubbing my back. "Now you're going to get up, and stand in that corner with your hands on your head until I tell you to come out." And with that, he helped me up and gave me a second to find my balance before guiding me to the corner. "No rubbing," he directed. So I stood there, wanting nothing more than to reach back and thoroughly rub the fiery sting out of my no doubt well-reddened behind. But I didn't dare disobey Jake's order after such a clear and painful demonstration of the consequences. I couldn't say how much time I spent in that corner. It felt like hours but was probably no more than a few minutes. Eventually, I had gotten my crying more or less under control, except for the occasional hitch and sniffle. "You can come out now, Alex." It was strange how pure his voice sounded when it wasn't warped by the cacophony of smacking and crying and the ringing in my ears. When I turned around, he was sitting in the same spot. I had no idea if he had gone and come back, or if had sat there the whole time. It really didn't matter. He held out his hands towards me as I made my way awkwardly to stand between his knees again, coming full, disciplinary circle. He reached down to bring up my underpants and pulled them snugly over my privates. "Sit down," he said, guiding me to sit next to him. But then he stood up. "Lay back, Alex" he ordered softly. "Huh?" I felt confused and somewhat frightened. "W-why?" "Do as I say. You still have a lesson to learn." Once again I was on the verge of crying. Nose tingling, I scrunched up my face in desperation. "Nnnnnn... but I learned," I pled weakly. "Please, I'll be good. I promise." For some reason, despite wanting to get out of more punishment, I had already complied. My freewill had been broken and I didn't dare challenge Jake. By the time my head came to rest on the bed, Jake had already picked up my legs and lifted them up. He looked down at me, an ankle in each hand, hovereing around his chest. The intent of his actions was completely lost on me. I had no idea where this was going, and I was, once again, afraid and lost in my own anxiety. "So you thought you could humiliate Freddie by making him smell your feet, did you?" "I'm sorry..." I said in a tiny voice, not sure how else I could respond. Folks, what Jake did next, the very simple, brief deed he carried out, was arguably one of the most crucial and formative turning points in my entire life. At the very least, it ignited my sexual awakening. Looking up as he towered over my twelve year-old frame, I witnessed Jake confidently bring my left foot to his face, stick out his tongue, and grotesquely lick my sole from heel to toe, in a long, calculated move. My instincts made me look away, shut down, disengage as a sort of survival strategy. I had no idea what Jake meant to do when he licked my foot, but given the circumstances, the recent punishment from which my butt was still throbbing, and the threatening declaration that I "still had a lesson to learn," all I knew for sure was that this development was meant to humble me. At least, that was what I felt deep down, though I wouldn't have been able to explain the sentiment at that time. "Look at me." I obeyed apprehensively. "Do I seem the least bit humiliated to you?" He took the big toe all the way between his lips, causing me to shudder uneasily, and suckled it while staring me down. I looked away. *SMACK* "OWW!" I looked at him, alarmed, and my eyes started welling up again as I reach down to rub the sting out of my left buttock. It wasn't a very hard one, but it reawakened the burn that had subsided into a dull ache, and the intent to reprimand was not lost on me. "I asked you a question. Did that seem embarrassing for me?" "No, Sir" I answered, with a vigorous shake of my head. He softly kissed the pad of that same foot. "Bet this makes YOU feel pretty silly, though, right?" I nodded, a single tear trickling down my temple, knowing only that he was right but having no clue as to the reason why. "A little boy with his entire world turned upside down. Being handled by a grown up, not knowing what's happening to you. Your feet dangling over your head and no more than your little undies to keep your privates out of sight." My chest heaved ominously. "Bet you'll feel even more embarrassed when you get a stiffie in a minute, won't you?" I turned beet red and thought I was starting to feel sick. I hadn't even considered that something so humiliating could happen. He sounded so confident that I was going to bone up. Why? I had recently started getting unexpected erections a lot more commmonly and frequently. And I knew from learning to jack off and doing it with my best friend that you got stiff when you were turned on. But there was nothing exciting about this. I mean, I was being punished. Wasn't I? I was brought back to reality with another stinging swat, this one on the right cheek. "Oww, yes, Sir!" That seemed to satisfy him because he busied his mouth again on my foot. I hadn't even realized, but that disgusted feeling was starting to subside. What he was doing to me didn't feel so wrong anymore. I mean, it didn't exactly feel that good, because I was still wrapped up in how scary and embarrassing this all was, and I thought it was meant to be punishment. But the nature of his ministrations was becoming clearer to me. He was kissing my foot all over. And that's a nice thing to do for someone, isn't it? To kiss them? Images rushed to my mind of my mom changing my baby cousin's diaper when my relatives visited, and kissing her feet affectionately, both of them giggling. So why was this different? Too many thoughts and questions and feelings were going through my head that I didn't end up resolving and soon enough, I started to feel a stirring in my undies. As I got used to his tongue and lips on my foot, it did start to feel kinda nice. I didn't understand why. Were my feet really this sensitive? "Look at that," he spoke softly before snaking his tongue between my toes. "Little Alex is waking up." He dragged his tongue back and forth across the base of my toes. "Play with it. Go ahead, Alex. Reach into your undies and make yourself feel good, buddy." "Noo!" I cried out instantly. "Please, don't make me. Not in front of you, I can't!" I was trying to explain myself because the thought of appearing defiant terrified me at this point. Overwhelmed by all that was going on, I hadn't picked up on the shift in Jake's demeanour, or the softening of his tone. "It's okay, sweetie." He kissed the tip of my big toe, and this time, it did seem more gentle, like an act of kindness. "Here," he said, resting my feet against his shoulders. "Roll over on your tummy." He reached for the pillow and crouching down, placed it right next to me. "Lay on the pillow, buddy. Straddle it with your legs." I followed his instructions mechanically. "There you go. Now get your peter flat against your tummy. There's a good boy." I wiggled around until the head of my three-incher was pointing straight ahead, sandwiched between me and that pillow. "Now all you gotta do is hump the pillow. Hump it until you get your tingles." I was hesitant at first but then I felt him pick up my feet and pull my legs up so they were bent at the knee with my feet hovering over my butt. Jake brought my feet together and dove back in, this time with unprecedented passion. His lips, tongue, and teeth were all over my toes, all over the pads of both of my feet, and with all this increasingly desirable attention, I found myself rocking against the pillow, stimulating my stiffie via friction and back-and-forth rubbing. Each thrust aroused my desire for more, and I basked in the pleasure of tending to my grateful package that had been ignored for a busy day of camp fun, followed by a severe punishment. After that roller coaster of worry, shame, pain, and a good dose of feeling sorry for myself, the tingling sensation that built in my preteen nutsack was more than welcome. A minute into this surreal scene of sexual play, I realized I was whimpering, and soon thereafter, full-on moaning as I hugged the pillow beneath me and performed the instinctive motions of bedfucking. I was so absorbed by the primal need to masturbate, and caught up in trying my best to do as Jake said that I didn't even consider my approaching orgasm. And when I felt fingers slipping under the hem of my undies and locating my clenching, tacky pucker, I was too far gone to formulate any kind of sensible objection. I felt Jake's moist fingertip connect with my rosebud, and, under different circumstances, I would've questioned why on earth he would want to touch me back there. But in the moment there was only lust, greed, and the quest for toe-curling climax. "Good job, Alex. See how you can be a good boy when you want to." His tonguework intensified and now his teeth were involved too. His determined finger poked and prodded my tightly sealed entrance. There was no force to his touch. Only tickles, scratches, and aching teases. The tip of his index massaged my perineum as I thrust forward, and pressed against my slit with every push back. "Unhh! Nnmmm, huhhh!" With each passing second, Jake's attention got increasingly arousing. Soon I was lost in my wild fidgeting, restraint and inhibition discarded at some point along the way to a mind-numbing little boygasm. "NGHHH! Uh, uh, uhh, uhhh, NNNNNNN!" My body exploded as one, then two drops of pure pubescent boy nectar fired into the fibers of my undies. My whimpers of pleasure turned into a continuous moan as the sensation overwhelmed my fragile being. Having barely recovered, the best orgasm of my novice sexuality quickly turned into the most horrendously embarrassing return to reality. My moan sustained itself and spilled over into a tearful wail as I was overcome with such shame, and the fear of Jake's reaction. "I'm sorryyyy." I howled. "It felt good. I don't know whyyyy! I'm really sorry. I don't know what's happening." I wriggled out of his hold on my ankles to curl up into the foetal position, willing my body to implode and hide me form this scary world. But Jake simply reached out, and I felt his arms scoop me up easily. He sat me on his lap. My butt rested on one thigh, my feet pressed against the other as I hugged my knees to my chest and rocked myself back and forth. His arms engulfed me in a warm embrace as I realized I could hear his soft voice repeat the same phrases over and over. "Shhhhh. You're okay. You're okay, Alex. You did just fine, baby." His gentle fingers were stroking my hair. "Shhhhh. It was supposed to feel good, sweetie. It was meant to. You did real good, Alex. Real good. Well done, baby. Good boy. Such a brave, good boy. Shhh, you're gonna be okay." I sobbed into his chest, unable to stop the flow of tears, despite gradually calming down with the help of his comforting words. We sat there for a few minutes as he tenderly swayed me from side to side. "Do you want to tell me what that business with Freddie was about, Alex?" He didn't push me when I didn't respond at first. He held me to him as I sniffled and hiccuped. He let me be for a while. Then he pulled me back so he could look me in the eye. "You're not going to pick on anyone again, are you?" His tone was kind now, no longer reproachful. Like he truly believed I was capable of doing better. I shook my head, leaving no doubt that I knew better now. "Good boy." His palm rested on top of my feet. "And I don't want you degrading yourself by thinking that you can humiliate someone with your feet. Understand?" "Yes, Jake. Promise." My voice was hoarse from so much crying. He paused as though he was searching my eyes for something. "What's going on, Alex? Hmm? You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. You're not in trouble any more. But I'd like to know..." I looked down hoping he would drop the subject. "Is this about you wetting the bed this morning? Is that what's been bothering you?" My head shot back up in a panic. "How did you know ... ?" "The nurse told me." I buried my face in his chest and shuddered with emotional fragility. I had been through so much already but I felt I could easily cry all over again. This was not a good day for me. "It's okay, sweetie, lots of kids wet the bed when they're away from home. It's completely normal." He stroked the back of my head. "And hey..." He established eye contact again. "Promise me that next time, no matter what's bothering you, you'll come talk to me instead of taking it out on another boy? Whatever's bugging you, it's not anyone else's fault. Okay?" "Okay. Promise. I'm really sorry, Jake." "I know. And it's not your fault that something's upsetting you, either. It's not your fault, angel." He hugged me close to him, and a tear trickled down my cheek. "You're a good boy, Alex. How about you stay with me tonight? Hmm? Daniel's not here, so you can have his bed. We'll just hang out." "But... what about the bonfire?" I asked, wondering why he would want to miss out on that to stay with me. "Sorry, kiddo. No bonfire for you tonight. Part of your punishment. But I'll stay here and we can hang out just the two of us. How does that sound?" I nodded my head and wiped my face with the back of my hand. Jake pulled me back into him and planted a long, sweet kiss on my forehead. "Come on then." For the first time that day, for the first time in a while, in fact, I felt loved. And not just loved. Loved back. I gave him my most sincere grin, at last proudly wearing my emotions for him. All the embarrassment melted away. He undid the covers and held them out of the way for me. "Climb in, champ." He tucked me in and settled beside me, holding me close. We talked for a little while. About everything. Until sleep overcame me. I vividly remember the discomfort from being seated on a sore butt, as well as the butterflies fluttering in my stomach. Jake, the "cool" counselor, the handsome older teen, my hero, was spending bonfire night sitting in bed with me, just chatting. I felt so special. So proud. So loved. That night, a little gay boy was born. A loved boy. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Our series of weekend sexy funtime had taken us to the kitchen in search of some non-seminal form of nourishment. Dennie was sat on the island counter in just his undies. I was standing in front of him, his bare legs dangling off the edge on either side of me. I was holding a bowl of strawberry yogurt between us, each with a spoon in hand. He ran his toes up and down my shins, his smooth boyflesh mingling with my leg hair. I scooped a spoonful and fed it to Dennie. He would barely swallow before coming in to kiss me, managing to get yogurt all over our faces. Between kisses, after each spoonful I gave him, I gathered all the yogurt that had found its way around his mouth, with my spoon, and fed it back between his lips. For his turn, he got some on the end of the spoon and smeared it onto my cheek, my nose, anywhere he wanted, so he could lap it up. After many minutes of this playful back-and-forth, I set the empty bowl down on the counter. He had even gotten some on his fingers so I picked up his right hand, and proceeded to lick it off. I didn't stop when his fingers were clean, though, and I got lost in this game of devouring his hot young paws. They were quite small, just pudgy enough, but overall solid. They were boyhands, with knobby knuckles, chewed up little nails, and silken palms. I looked up into his lustful morning eyes. "I swear you're just like a kitten. If I didn't know better I'd say you're not very good at swallowing big mouthfuls." Opening his mouth with a thumb on his chin, I parted his lips the rest of the way with my tongue, probing deep into his oral cavity. When I pulled away, out of nowhere, Dennie mewled innocently, doing his best kitten impression, then giggled, surprised by his own humour. In his attempt to be funny and cute, he had also reawakened my libido. Wrapping him tight against my chest, I made out with him, tackling his tongue with mine. My desire for him overtook me as I ran my hand down his bare back. My fingers dove into his undies and I palmed his warm bottom. Spurred on even more by our tongue wrestling, I located his pucker with my middle finger and pushed in. "UNHH!" I slid my finger out of his grip and relocated my oral assault to his neck, making sure to move down and away before I left a mark. I found his right nipple, tickling it with the tip of my tongue before closing my lips around his stiff areola. "Mmmm, yeah," he agreed dreamily, wrapping his arms tight around my neck. Sensing an opportunity reveal itself, I buried my face in his smooth armpit, tracking a richer trail of his sweet morning boy aroma. It was floral and pubescent. It was subtle and mellow as I drank his creamy, savoury flavour. "Ohhh! Tickles!" But I don't know if he was sure if that was such a bad thing. Wrapping one arm around his waist to lift him up, I pulled the back of his undies just below his butt and set him back down. He gasped, not knowing where I would take him next. I squatted, bringing my face to just above his crotch. Pulling his undies down in front just enough to free his stiffie, I dove in, engulfing his boycock and nutsack all at once. "Yeahhhh!" It was a moan of victory. He'd cum twice the night before, but considering how much stimulation had been involved in making those two cums happen, and considering the sexual apetite of a boy his age, it certainly wasn't too early for a third. I indulged his nutty-sweet flavour, feeling the pulsations of his spike and adding the vibrations of my own moans to the mix. I helped myself to a full serving of his boyhood before slowing down to appreciate the meal one course at a time. I slipped him out of my mouth to kiss the tip, while using two fingers to expose the rest of his head. "Unnhhh!" I licked up the underside of his stiff little boy pecker. "Feel good, baby boy?" I took the exposed head between my lips and gave it a voracious tongue bath. "Yeahhhh! Do more! Please!" In a flash, I had his modest length back inside my mouth, dragging my lips up and down his shaft voraciously, while simultaneously tongue massaging the underside with circular licking motions. Dennie moaned and writhed as I slid his throbbing little member in and out of my mouth. I felt the muscles in his inner thighs flex and relax against my cheeks. His legs would shoot out, then he'd wrap them around my neck. He would grab the edge of the countertop then lean back on his forearms. Finally, his hands came to rest on my head, holding on in a relatively soft grasp, his fingers playing with my hair. And despite wanting to cum so badly, he never pulled me into him. He didn't force me to suck him harder nor try to take over. The pleasure he was experiencing was simply too big, too overwhelming, and he had to hold onto something. Dennie was getting restless and clearly nearing orgasm, so I switched it up to get him to last longer. I let him slip out of my mouth, and instead stroked him slowly between my fingers. Meanwhile, I pressed my face into his sack, licking from his perineum to the base of his cocklet, nestled between his balls. "Keep your hands where they are, but hold on tight, baby." Feeling the added pressure in his grip, I hooked a hand under each knee and lifted up his legs, placing his feet on my shoulders. He wobbled for a moment then regained his balance. I slipped him back between my lips to the sound of his cries of pleasure, and my right hand caressed its way up his chest, his neck, and across his jaw to find his mouth wide open. I pushed my middle finger in and mopped up as much saliva as I could until he knew to close his lips around my knuckle in order to help out. My digit now properly lubricated, I brought it back down to tickle his recently exposed boyhole. I used my nail to scratch around his quivering anus but, for once showing mercy, I pushed it in with purpose. His head shot back and I could feel the curling of his toes against my shoulders. I bobbed expertly on his cocklet, bringing him closer and closer. Dennie wrapped his legs around my neck, locking my head between his thighs as he surrendered himself to his approaching climax, giving into any and every chance to make it happen sooner. His moaning gained intensity and told me he was entering the final stretch. Preparing to make it the best boygasm I ever gave him, I placed my left hand on his lower tummy, right over the base of his dick, and applied a slight pressure against his bladder, making him even more frantic. At the same time, I ground my finger as far into his clenching hole as it could reach, and curled it to vigorously scratch his prostate for the big finale. Dennie's desperate wailing confirmed that I was setting him up for an epic orgasm so I cranked it up a notch, milking him madly. "Ahh! I- I- Unhhh, Unhh, UNHHH!" Modest yet buoyant spurts of boyjuice fired at my tongue and throat as I continued orally milking my precious boy's prized stiffie through his descent. Dennie was squirming hard, unable to suppress the strong reactions to his orgasm, so I had to contain his movements for him. After a little while, his movements transformed from out-of-control writhing to antsy fidgeting and I understood that my ongoing ministrations had started making him uncomfortable. I finally released his wilting erection from my mouth, I pulled back to see it hang over the waistband of his underwear which had remained in its place that whole time. Dennie was spent, panting, slowly recovering, a contented smile plastered on his face. As the enormity of his climax subsided, I grew increasingly aware of my own arousal. Looking down, I noticed a thin stream of pre-cum hanging from the tip of my cock, once again achingly hard. I stood back up, seeing no reason to delay what needed to happen next. Dennie's eyes were glazed over but as my midsection came into his field of vision, he sort of came to and looked up in expectation and awe. Just as well, he wouldn't have had much more time to process what was happening anyway. Within seconds, I had picked him up, flipped him around, and bent him over the edge of the counter. A slight gasp escaped his lips in the process, but that was it. He was clearly too worn-out to be any more expressive. With his legs dangling over the edge, his feet hovered a few inches above the ground, so Dennie held onto the opposite edge of the countertop. Now in an increasing hurry to penetrate the warmth of his bottom, I dispensed with formalities and instead favored a more utilitarian approach. His briefs having already been pulled halfway down earlier, I grasped the waistband and lowered them further, just enough to fully bare his bottom and clear the way for my starving cock. But despite my impatience to get to the actual fucking, I couldn't help but pause a second to admire the sight before me with an amused smile. Instead of coming down as they were, Dennie's undies were sort of flipped inside out when I lowered them. The inner seat, with its noticeable yellow cum stain, was now facing right at me. And I wondered if my intention carried through my action and reached my loved boy. I wondered if he understood that he was always merely a few inches of underwear displacement away from getting his bottom filled. I wondered if he could pick up on the urgency of such a move. If he could sense that my need for him was so monumental that I wouldn't bother properly undressing him. Or was it all the same to him? Bunched halfway down his thighs or around his ankles, or on the floor, or in the laundry hamper, did it make a difference to him as he laid there submissively, waiting for me to take him as I had done numerous times before? I thought back to when I got a spanking from Jake at camp and considered how the two scenarios compared. Get a grip, Alex. Your devoted little boy is literally hanging there waiting for you to fuck him. Scanning my immediate surroundings, looking for a substitute for lube because again, I couldn't fathom a scenario in which I walked away and didn't immediately fuck this prime boy bottom, my eyes landed on the jar of coconut oil. Identical to the one Cheryl had set out in her own kitchen for Dennie to moisturize his hands, which he never remembered to do. I picked it up smiling devilishly at how perverse this was. I scooped up a gob of the solid grease and coated myself with it. A second fingerful was applied to Dennie's entrance, and we were set. "Since you can't seem to remember to moisturize like your mom wants you to, baby boy," I said as I positioned myself at his rear, "maybe I can help drive that point home." I didn't quite hear the boy yelp. But there was a distinct ring echoing around the room the moment I regained consciousness after having rammed myself fully into Dennie's rectum in record time. Bending over him to investigate, I confirmed that my forceful entry hadn't harmed him. He panted and twisted, sweaty and faint, adjusting to the sudden invasion, but he was getting over it already. On with the show. I planted a kiss on my loved boy's temple as I pulled myself back out of him almost completely. There are times when I fuck Dennie and there are times we make love. This was very much the former. And it was primarily for me. The fragrance of his morning tween bedhead, only ever so slightly sour, filled my nostrils and spurred me on as I pumped into him wildly, containing him in a tight embrace. My mindfulness of how he experienced this fuck was only at bare minimum. Enough that I knew not to make it unpleasant for him. As responsible as responsible gets when you're a grown man fucking a little boy. But also little enough not to irritate the ravenous, boy-hungry non-morning- person that I was at that moment, nor distract him from his determined expedition. So I plowed and I plugged and I shoved into the boy's accepting young pussy. I grunted and he moaned. Steadily, I built myself up to a well needed orgasm. At one point, amidst my steadfast thrusting, I felt a series of clamping motions try to engulf my cock. I quickly wrapped an arm around Dennie's hips, holding him to me, and focused my strokes to indulge him in this special moment. "Huhh, huhhh, huhhhh- Ohh! OHH! UNHH! UUNNNHHHH!" Dennie rode his orgasm, twisting and turning as much as my hold on him would allow. And I held him good. Couldn't let that sublime, fiery, chute get away from my aching member by even a millimeter. I was close. Even closer now that Dennie's orgasmic twitches and squeezes had milked my shaft even more fervently. Adjusting my stance without losing an ounce of my stamina, I gripped onto his hips, noting somewhere in my sub-conscious that my forearm showed no sign of Dennie having expelled anything when he came. It was time for the final sprint. At this point I was absolutely slamming into that perfect little bottom, making and causing the kind of sounds that probably only belong on a battleground. So close. Closer. And closer. As Dennie calmed down after his own cum, I was getting more and more aggressive, agitated. "NNGGGHHH, UHHHH--" Completely consumed by a climax that took over my entire system, I erupted in a seemingly never-ending series of gushes, filling my boy to the brim and then some. "NNNGGGGAAAAAAAUUUUHHHHHH" The ferocity never left my drive, still pumping into Dennie with unrivaled passion. An orgasm so explosive I just did not know how to stop. My cum was already leaking out of Dennie in streams that ran down his smooth taint, his virgin-smooth inner thighs. What a sight. What a deviant image, the juxtaposition of pure, innocent youth subjected to something so illicit, so wicked. As much as I had been driven by my own selfish lust, overlooking the extent of my sexual hunger, now that it was over, I was that much more tender, and I sought to offset the way I had been with Dennie. I picked him up and just held him to me. I just carried him in my arms and walked us around the kitchen. I wanted nothing more than to be close with him in that instant. I don't expect he understood what was going on but nonetheless, he went with it. After all, this wasn't unlike the way we spent much of our time together. So he just wrapped his arms around neck, his legs around my waist. He buried his face in the crook of my neck and just ... stayed there. Breathing into me. Feeding off of this moment. +++++ The rest of the day was spent mostly like that. Until it was time to clean up, clean ourselves up, and clear the evidence of our time together before Cheryl came to pick him up. And when she did, and while I was kissing her hello/goodbye, I couldn't resist letting my hand slide into the seat of my little loved boy's pants, as a final, innocently sinful gesture of love and lust. +++++++++++++ THE END Thanks a lot for sticking it out until the end! Any and all feedback is always welcome. Kit Rudo kitrudo@tutamail.com