Date: Wed, 19 Dec 2007 17:30:16 +1300 (NZDT) From: Nick Cramer Subject: Cool Karl vs the jocks, part 5 I did after all manage to produce one more episode before 2008! This story features bullying and fighting and some masturbation and oral sex among high-school-age males. I visualize the character 'Karl Spivak' as looking like a model called Karl at boyfun.com. Comments welcome, to antinous48@yahoo.co.nz. ______ In part 1, Karl told how he and his slave Nicky were kidnapped by Robby and three other jocks. In part 2, Nicky began to explain how he came to be Karl's slave. In part 3, Karl took up the story, describing the first task that he as master set for his slave Nicky. In part 4, Nicky described how his master Karl came to dub him 'toe-sucker extraordinaire', and ordered him to report for duty again the next day. Now Karl resumes. ______ My first punishment session for the little twerp Nicky went well. He showed adequate respect to me, his master, and the foot massage and toe sucking was something he had a real talent for. We met again the next day, same time, same place. He showed up right on time, looking all frightened and eager. (Yes, that's right, frightened and eager simultaneously.) There was more of the relaxing foot massage, and more toe- sucking too, just so that Nicky appreciated that, as my slave, he had to do anything I ordered, no matter how demeaning or unpleasant. But I already had a feeling that Nicky might find it not so unpleasant after all to polish with his tongue the sweaty toes (calluses and all) of such an awesome tough dude as me. There's no telling what these nerdy types will get off on. So I realized I would have to also set him some really demeaning or stupid tasks that no one in their right mind could enjoy. OK, so on our second date ("Date"? What am I saying? I mean at our second punishment session...), after the toe- sucking, I ordered Nicky to stand on his head while reciting the States of the Union, in alphabetical order, with their capital cities. I was looking forward to some harmless amusement, watching the efforts of this little athlete -- NOT! -- at keeping his balance upside down. Also, I was betting he would fumble the capital of Louisiana or Mississippi or somewhere, so as to incur the displeasure of the terrible Karl. But he stood on his head as if he did it every day, and rattled off the information flawlessly. Hmm... I realized that there was more to little Nicky than meets the eye. Twice weekly would be often enough for the foot treatment, I decided, so I fixed the next session for the following Tuesday. His supplementary task this time was to stand on one leg while counting downwards from 100 in Spanish. And this time I did have a bit of fun, watching him wobble precariously round about 'cincuenta y seis'. I interrupted him and teased him. 'You're only pretending to lose your balance, my little slave, aintcha,' I said, 'in the hope that your master will catch you in his strong arms -- huh? The arms of a street-fightin' champion!' I happened to be wearing a red-and-white check work shirt with the sleeves rolled up round my biceps, so when I flexed my muscles and bent my elbow those sleeves were stretched real tight, almost like the shirt fabric would rip open. Cool Karl Spivak as the Incredible Hunk - - yeah, you better believe it! I was really giving Nicky something to feast his eyes on! 'But think again, slave! D'you think I'd demean myself by stopping you from falling? Nah! You'd be on your back, gazing up, and I'd be standing astride you, like this' (I demonstrated, hands on hips, glowering), 'poised to trample you underfoot! You would cling to my leg and beg for mercy, gazing up at your master! Who knows what punishment your unsatisfactory performance would earn?' I folded my arms, stern and implacable. 'I, your master, am just, but I am also ... RUTHLESS!' Little Nicky, still teetering on one leg, blushed bright pink. He frowned and said nothing. But his eyes told a story -- almost popping out of his head as I went through the flexing and posing routine. However, he managed to regain his balance and carry on counting in Spanish. In the end, his performance of the task gave me no ground for serious dissatisfaction. As we parted at the end of the lunch break, he looked at me all sweaty and obsequious, grateful that I hadn't laid a finger on him -- or was he? --, and eager for next time -- yes, he sure was! So it came to our fourth meeting. This time, as he was doing the foot routine, it was clear that Nicky had a little speech that he wanted to get out. He cleared his throat and looked up at me nervously. 'Master Karl, I have a humble suggestion.' 'What is it, slave? Better be good!' 'Well, not just your feet but your calf muscles and your thigh muscles -- I could massage them too! I know how to do it, I honestly do, so you'll feel really relaxed and refreshed afterwards.' I have to admit, the idea appealed. So I rolled over on to my front on the old couch so that Nicky could get at the backs of my legs. I should explain I was wearing floppy cargo pants that day. 'Aah ... I really need you to ... that is, if my master would deign to take off his pants! It wouldn't be nearly so effective doing it --' 'Whaat?' I turned over again, sensing an opportunity. 'You wanna see my legs naked, right? Yeah, right! And what about my chest, huh? You'd like me to take my singlet off too! That's what you're drooling for, arentcha! Well, AREN'T YOU, faggot! You want to see your master's body in all its naked glory! TELL THE TRUTH, you little worm! ANSWER ME!' I'd jumped up from the sofa and grasped his chin in my right hand, yanking his head up. His eyes were terrified. Then I pushed him against the wall. It was the first time I'd treated him roughly since our first meeting in that old storeroom. I guess both of us knew that a line had been crossed somehow. Here was little weak Nicky being shoved around by big strong Karl. Well, perhaps that was what both of us wanted ... Or perhaps not. What happened next took the wind out of my sails completely. 'Master, stop! I'm your faithful slave! I don't deserve this! I'll obey you, whatever you ask me to do, but you've got to be fair! You're strong, and you're ruthless, but you've got to be just too, like you said last time -- ruthless and just!' I was gobsmacked. I let go of him and gawped at him. Nicky went on. 'If I say I don't want to see your body naked -- your awesome strong body -- you'll say I'm lying, and punish me! But if I say I do want ... I do want the honor of seeing my master remove his singlet so as to reveal his superb chest and abs ... in all their splendor ... you'll say I'm disrespectful! So I'm caught both ways! That's not fair! That's not just!' He paused and gulped. I made a move to grab my rebellious slave, but he darted away and spoke again. 'I'm not rebelling against you, master! But you've got to let me admire you as you deserve -- by being just to me! If I see my master's body in all its naked glory, I'll respect my master all the more! Not just for his physical strength but for his generosity and ... and ... kindness in letting his humble slave admire him!' Another pause. I was taking a while to get my head into gear. Then Nicky burst into tears. Words were just distinguishable between the sobs. 'No, no ... I'm sorry, Karl ... I've asked too much. You'll never forgive me now ...' Then it was like I was watching myself in amazement. The Karl that I was watching put his hand on to Nicky's shoulder and said: 'Hey, hey, it's OK. I'm not gonna hurt you. You are a faithful and obedient slave. And you're right. It's kind of like what we learnt in history, about the Middle Ages. The serfs had to obey the barons and work for them. But the barons had a duty to the serfs too -- to treat them fairly. And protect them.' (What was I saying? That I had a duty to protect Nicky?? Whoa, this was getting out of hand!) I straightened up and adopted a sterner tone. 'I'm gonna be fair to you, Nick. It so happens my back and arms are pretty sore from all the lifting I did last night, shifting boxes at the convenience store. So I'm going to set you a task, but a task you'll do well and one you won't hate doing, I bet.' So saying I peeled off not just my cargo pants but also my tight white singlet and lay on my face on the couch with my arms by my side. 'Let those little fingers of yours work their magic on my back and shoulders and arms.' Lying on my face, I didn't have to look at Nicky. He and I could both pretend I didn't notice how he struggled to stifle his sobs. As he went to work on my back, I could tell he was gradually getting control of himself again. And 'went to work' is the right thing to say. He wasn't altogether gentle. He pushed and pulled and slapped my muscles around. A couple of times I winced: 'Ouch! That feels good, but go easy ...' Then I felt a rapid series of little karate chops on my shoulders. Hey, what ...! But it was strangely relaxing. In fact, I was becoming more and more relaxed. I couldn't see Nicky, but in my mind's eye I could visualize the intense expression on his face -- an angry expression, too. Slapping me around like this was a way of getting revenge for my unfairness. Because I had to admit to myself, he was completely right -- I had set a trap for him, so he would be damned either way. But he had stuck up for himself! Good for him! I was beginning to have a kind of warm feeling towards my slave. Gradually the slapping and pulling turned into gentle stroking. Rhythmically, back and forth, up and down, his hands smoothed all the stiffness in my muscles away ... 'Thanks, Nicky, that's enough.' I turned over, feeling sort of dreamy and woozy and ... and ... OH NO! I realized I had a huge hard-on. The tip of my shaft was poking well above the waistband of my shorts. There was no disguising it. And Nicky saw it too. Little nerd Nicky saw that I, the great Karl, the toughest machoest guy in the class, was turned on by something he did to me. The shame of it! No! I was panicking. Nicky couldn't be allowed to get away with this ... he must pay the price ... a terrible price ... My fists were already clenched as these thoughts ran through my mind. Who knows what would have happened if quick-thinking Nicky hadn't reacted the way he did ... [to be continued in 2008]