Date: Fri, 15 Feb 2002 14:55:40 From: john smith Subject: WHAT GOES AROUND CUMS AROUND 1 WHAT GOES AROUND COMES AROUND Ostrich78@hotmail.com Disclaimer: The following story is fictional. It in no way encourages or approves of the abuse of minors which is abhorrent. The author resides in San Diego and would be interested in meeting 18-25 year olds who like the story. PART 1 I was pleased when I saw the source of my e mail: it was from my 20 year old "nephew". Well, he isn't actually a nephew but that is the sort of relationship I had with Eric. Eric grew up next door to me. His parents split up when he was 12, which was just as well given their general neglect of him. He stayed in the house with mom until age 15 when she remarried a guy who was a real prick and would not allow Eric to live there anymore. The dad was who knows where, and there was no family, so mom asked me to take him in. I did so with the caveat that I was raising Eric. Mom could have visitation, but only scheduled. Eric would need to accept me as the authority in his life. As it turned out, mom never visited much anyway. This arrangement generally went quite well. He was a nice kid; athletic; and a solid B student when encouraged. Even at 15 he was quite a sight: 5-6; 140; beautiful blond hair in a skater cut and fair unblemished skin. By 18 he was a God: 6-2, 185, rock solid, blond hair, smooth body, pretty much perfect by an measure. Our relationship started out as a father-son relationship should be. He liked being the center of attention at my house since I retired early. He also blossomed around being in a structured home for the first time in his life. He had a bedtime; we ate meals together; there were basic rules about curfew and respect; and he was expected to maintain a B average. In exchange for this, he received privileges commensurate with his performance. However, it was my rule that if he committed a premeditated action that he knew to be wrong and got caught, that corporal punishment would be delivered immediately and on the spot. He only got CP about 3 to 6 times a year: he was a great kid. When needed, he got the paddle, and in his senior year he graduated to the strap. A couple of times though, his immediate need for CP occurred with other teens in the house. I would take him to his room, but they would hear it. Another graduation occurred in his senior year: it became increasingly apparent to Eric (though I had known for years) that he was gay. One thing led to another and he was mentored into his sexual development in a way that would not be expected of fathers and sons. So, I would hear from Eric from time to time. He attends college in San Francisco and comes back to town on vacation. He found himself sexually; has clear career goals; and is doing well. Unbeknownst to me however, he harbored a deep grudge regarding the CP he got as a kid. This e mail was my first hint of it. The e mail read as follows: I will be coming down for Spring Break and plan to stay with you. We have a lot of catching up to do. You need to know that I am now grown and while grateful to you for the help and guidance you provided, resent both your use of the strap and your taking sexual advantage of me. I will see you on Friday night at 6 when you pick me up at the Southwest Terminal Baggage claim. I responded that by all means we should talk about this as I don't want anything to come between us. On Friday at 6, I met him at the curb. He had his backpack in which contained his clothes for the week, as well as a small suitcase he had checked. I embraced him and noticed he was a little stiff: not really returning the embrace. We drove the 15 minutes to my house engaged in small talk about college and his plans for the future. He was majoring in business and planned a career in sales after graduation next year. I thought to myself: with his looks and social skills, he will be very good at it. Upon entering the house, he handed me his luggage and told me (did not ask me) to put it in my room. I figured this meant an intimate week and therefore did not really notice the edge in his voice or the hard look. I happily carried these things up the stairs with Eric trailing along behind me. I set down the cases and then received another command: "sit down there" as he pointed to one of the padded chairs in the anteroom of my bedchamber. I raised an eyebrow and did so. Then he shocked me with the following pronouncement: "When I was young and dependant, you did a great deal for me. I probably would not be where I am today without you. For that, I love and appreciate you. However, your beating me as a teen, especially when my friends were in the other room was not called for. Also, you were exploitative toward me. I now intend to reverse the tables with you. This week, and in the future when I so choose, you will be my boy. You will live by my rules and do as I say or be punished". I was initially speechless. I mean on the one hand it was all very stirring: living under the dominion of this 20 year old Nordic God. But on the other hand, I am the adult and had no intention of living under the rule of a kid. In so many words, I told him this. He then entered into phase 2 of his pronouncement: "I have been doing some research. It seems there is no statute of limitations on child abuse. I was a child when you mistreated me. Do you know what they do to child abusers in jail?" I replied that "Yes, I am well aware of what happens, but surely you can't be serious". He then stared at me coldly for a full minute and said one word: "STRIP". It was clear that I had no choice in the matter, and I was strangely aroused by his authoritative manner. With trembling hands I did as I was told down to my boxers. Then he nodded and I slipped them off too. I have always been proud of my cock: while not as big as Eric's, it is 8 inches, thick and cut. I stood up straight, aware that I had nothing to be embarrassed by. The next order surprised me: "unpack and neatly put away all of the clothes from my back pack". I shrugged my shoulders and spent the next 10 minutes making a drawer for him and hanging his clothes. Then he pointed to the small suitcase and said "Open it boy". My stomach sunk as I heard him call me boy, but I complied, expecting to unpack more clothing. Was I ever wrong. He had a mobile adult toy store in there. There were 4 different kinds of paddles that I recognized, including a heavy maple fraternity paddle and a jokari paddle. There were several leather straps, and a quirt as well as leather restraint cuffs. There were probably other things, but I didn't get to explore. As my pupils dilated and my mouth grew dry, he was already off to the next command: "Go to the garage workshop and bring back a sawhorse and duct tape". I reached for my pants because the garage is 20 feet from the side door of the house. While it was almost dusk, anyone walking by could see me. He stopped me right in my tracks by roaring at me "DID I FUCKING TELL YOU TO PUT YOUR PANTS ON? NO I DID NOT. THAT IS GOING TO COST YOU. NOW GET YOUR ASS OUT AND BRING WHAT I HAVE REQUESTED". My knees felt loose and I rushed to comply with his command, returning with the saw horse and duct tape within 2 minutes. "What took you so long boy?" he asked. I thought I had been quite prompt but said "I had to look around for the duct tape Eric". He then looked even more enraged "What did you call me? My name is sir. You will call me sir from this point forward in public and private unless I instruct otherwise". "Yes Sir" I replied, feeling the power of this young man over me. "Now boy, go get a pillow and duct tape it over the top of the sawhorse". I did so, getting the idea of what was coming. "Now boy go stand in front of the sawhorse with your legs spread wide so your ankles touch the legs". As soon as I complied, he bound my lets to the saw horse legs with the tape. "Bend over and touch the ground Boy" was the next command. I did so, noticing that this left me in the most undignified position with ass turned somewhat up, legs spread wide,asshole exposed and balls swinging in the breeze. He then secured my hands to the sawhorse. I pulled against the bonds and knew I was going nowhere. However, it was not an uncomfortable position with the pillow on top of the saw horse. Then out of the corner of my eye I saw him get three paddles: the fraternity paddle, the Jokari paddle, and another that I later learned was called a stinger. He began with the fraternity paddle. "To begin, you need to learn who the boss is here. I am going to help you do that. After each blow, you will thank me with the words "thank you SIR". You will receive 20 blows with the fraternity paddle at 30 second intervals so you fully feel each blow. Any questions?" I knew better than to ask and simply replied as expected "No Sir". He pulled back and gave a moderately hard blow to both cheeks "thank you Sir" I shouted. Then just as the burn was starting to fade, a slightly harder blow landed I exhaled sharply and said "Thank you Sir". This went on at 30 second intervals until by the tenth blow I lost my dignity (assuming I had any bent over a sawhorse getting beaten by a guy half my age) and began to plead. "Please Sir, I promise I will obey you and address you properly. You are now the boss and I will follow your instructions... `Oh FUCK...thank you sir'...Please...this really hurts...". He didn't even respond to my pleas. In a mechanical fashion, he finished out the twenty blows, totally ignoring the pitiful pleas for it to stop. As I was begging for mercy, I couldn't help but think of how he did the same thing when I used to paddle him. "OK boy, now here is the test: tell me what you will always call me, who is the boss, and what you will never call me". I replied quickly to the first 2 questions : "I will call you sir and your are the boss", but I blanked on the third. He then said "you will not call me Eric...E (smack)...R (smack)...I (smack)...C (smack). I replied "Yes sir". At that point he left me lying there across the saw horse and went downstairs. Some period of time passed, and he returned holding a beer from the fridge "Tomorrow you will stock the fridge with Heiniken: this Corona is piss water". "Yes Sir" I replied. "Now boy, it is time for your second lesson" he said. Then, he went over and pulled out the "stinger" paddle. He went on to explain "you were slow to obey my order to get the sawhorse and duct tape, and you disobeyed me by reaching for your pants prior to going to the garage. I expect precise and timely execution of my orders". I soon discovered why they call if a stinger: "SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK" came 4 blows separated by seconds. I Howled "OW...FUCK...Please..." He just kept at it at a ferocious pace: "SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK". Not knowing what else to do, I began promising and begging, in between grunts. "Please Sir...OW...Please...AAAH...I Promise...I will be quicker... OOOOW...I will do what you say instantly...AAAH...". This went on for what seemed like forever but was probably only about 5 minutes. By the end of that time period I was hyperventilating, my nose was running, and I was still promising to be good. I was like an adolescent boy who had just received a serious spanking. "How does it feel" I heard him ask. "It hurts a lot sir" I replied. He then rained down three more hard smacks on my ass and said "I mean how does it feel to be in this position". I replied as honestly as I could "It feels humiliating; totally embarrassing, I am a grown man and I am breaking down and begging...I feel completely controlled and angry". "That's about right boy: now you know what it was like for me. Get used to it". Then he reached for the "Jokari" paddle, which I would soon learn to fear much more than the others. "Just in case there is any doubt about what will happen to you when you displease me, I am now going to break you down so that you never forget who the boss is. You can yell and scream all you want, but I am going to beat you until I am satisfied". With that, it began. I will never know how many times he hit me with that paddle: probably 100 or so. I do know that long before it was over I was screamed out, and just gasping for breath and making pitiful noises as my nose ran all over my face and I cried my eyes out". Then it was over. He released me and told me to dress for dinner. I spent a few minutes looking at my ass: swollen, red, hot, with some broken blood vessels that would probably turn into bruises. "This is going to be quite a week" I thought. To Be Continued.