Date: Thu, 27 Oct 2022 19:59:42 +0200
From: mushu410@mail.com
Subject: The Summer I Got Spanked, Chapter 2 (Revised)

*** Chapter 2 – MAKING UP ***

So, I took my Uncle's advice and tried to make friends.  Might as well try
to make lemonade out of lemons, right?  I bought an icy drink at the
quick-mart and walked down to the school.  No one was around.  I headed
back to the house, then started walking around the block, then out another
block, making bigger circles as I went.  About 4 blocks away, I saw a
couple of kids shooting hoops in a driveway.  I hadn't even gotten up to
their driveway yet before the younger one saw me.  "Come, play with us!" he
shouted as he motioned vigorously with his arm.  It turned out they were
brothers, one a year younger than me and one a year older.  Their mom was
home and we ended up playing video games, getting some good snacks.  I had
a great time and they all insisted I come back the next day.  I left about
3:00.  Somehow I thought my Uncle would expect me to be home when he
arrived.  And I wanted to be.  After the weirdness of last night and his
attempts to make things okay afterward, I wanted to feel like things were
okay too.

I was coming down the steps from the bathroom when I heard him at the door.
I stopped on the second step from the floor.  He came in and looked at me
and half-smiled.  I smiled back, sort of shyly, but I was going to be
brave.  We had to push through this.  He sat his stuff down on the floor
and looked like he really didn't know what to do.  I didn't either.
Standing on that second step, I was pretty much eye-to-eye with him.  He
made eye contact, then he looked down at the floor.  Then he slowly put his
arms out and raised his eyes up again.  "C'mere," he said softly, almost
tentatively.  I leaped into his arms, grabbing him around the neck and
wrapping my legs around his waist, squeezing him.

"Wow," he said softly.  He put his big brawny hand under my little ass; he
could practically get both cheeks in just the one hand.  He lifted me up a
little to get me in a better position on his hips.  Then he put his hand up
onto my back again.  Without taking time to think about it, I reached
around and took his hand and put it back under my butt.  I almost shivered
with the feel of intimacy it brought, realizing that all day in the back of
my mind I had missed it.  He gave it a little squeeze causing me to grip
his neck even tighter.  "Jesse, you're choking me," he said.  I let up, but
only a little.

"Jesse, about last night," he said as he started into the living room.
Again, without thinking, I put my hand over his mouth.  Not in a "shut-up"
way of disrespect, but gently, in a little boy way, my little fingers and
thumb grabbing his lips and pushing them together.  He pulled back.
"Shouldn't we ta--?"  "Nooooo!" I interrupted.  I was having none of it.
All things considered, I just couldn't deal with it in my young brain with
all the other stuff I was having to adjust to.  And part of me wanted what
we did to stay in that sort of fantasy place where I could relive it and
enjoy it more.  To talk about it at 3:30 in the afternoon – that would
make it too real.  It would be like breaking a spell somehow.

He let out just a little sigh.  I think he was relieved to not have to talk
about it.  He started to set me down but I refused and clung to him
tighter.  "Carry me," I whispered.  I almost scared myself with my
intensity.  It was a desperate plea of a scared and lonely boy who needed
some attention – some connection.  Again, a little sigh from Uncle Ray.
"Jesse, first of all I have to take a shit."  Him saying this caused me to
giggle.  "And second of all," he continued, stifling his own laughter, "it
would be a lot more fun for me to carry you around after I showered today's
stink off of me."

"So you will then?" I said, leaning back and looking at him.  "You'll carry
me around after your shower?"  Gosh, I was almost sounding like a little
boy – I mean a really little boy.  "Sure," he said, and there was a
glimmer in his eye that told me he would like doing it.

I gave him his privacy while he crapped.  I actually listened at the door
and stripped off all my clothes right in the hallway.  As soon as I heard
the shower come on, I bounded in – right into the bathroom in all my
stark-nakedness.  "What the fuck are you doing?!" he asked, not with anger
but with surprise.  "I'm going to take a shower with you," I said, as I
stepped into the tub.  He hadn't even started to strip yet, and was looking
at me incredulously.  "C'mon," before the water gets cold," I heard myself
saying.

In truth, I was acting a little crazy, or at least, over-the-top.  So
brazen.  A day or two ago, I would never have imagined myself behaving this
way.  But I was lost.  I was sinking.  I was drowning.  Kicked out of my
home, stuck here with no way of escape, I was reaching out, trying to
connect with this life-preserver of a man before I went under.  I was
acting on instinct – trying to survive.  It was all I knew to do.

He started to undress.  First, the big, dirty work boots, then the shirt,
jeans, then the underwear.  I did sort of like looking at his muscles but
up to now, I hadn't really thought about his cock.  Shit, it looked huge!
He was cut, like me.  Looking back and trying to picture it, I'd say he was
probably average-sized.  But back then, compared to my little tool, his
looked humongous.  I hoped that I would one day be that big.  Then surely,
I'd have all the girls!

He climbed in and started on his hair while I just watched.  "Aren't you
going to wash your hair?" he asked after he rinsed.  Again with me going on
instinct, I just picked up the shampoo and handed it to him.  "Okay, get
over here," he said, moving so I could get under the water.  First, he ran
his fingers through it getting it all wet.  Then the shampoo.  Again, the
intimacy of it – it felt so wonderful.  After he rinsed my hair, almost
in a daze, I picked up the soap and gave it to him, then turned around.
There was a pause, but then he took the cue and started soaping up my
13-year-old back.  Yes!

As he got to the bottom, I leaned over and stuck out my butt.  Again, a
pause.  I stuck it out even more.  I heard a slight sigh escape him, then
he actually got down on his knees.  I knew he was going to do it!  But then
a few seconds passed.  ???  Then, gingerly, I felt the bar of soap going
over my smooth, round globes – over it and over it.  Then I heard him
put down the soap and felt his hands.  My butt was full of the creamy,
slippery lather.  He took way longer than necessary to wash my little butt
with those big hulking hands – hands that pretty much covered an entire
glute each.

It felt awesome – loving, caring, intimate.  Yes, I felt my little
boydick starting to rise.  I didn't even care.  It felt too nice.  But.
The problem was he was staying on the outside.  I thought back to last
night when I felt his finger jabbing into my cheeks as he held me to keep
my from falling to the floor in the throes of orgasm.  I had felt it brush
up against my butthole even!  I wanted that again, and not even so much for
the sexual thrill but for that level of intimacy.  I wanted that with this
only person I really had in this strange place – the only person I could
count on.  I wanted him to see it.  I wanted to give him that most intimate
and private place of mine.

Again, with a level of brazenness (read "desperation") that I never would
have dreamed of 24 hours ago, I bent all the way over, grabbing my ankles
and bending at the knees, spreading my cheeks and putting on full display
my boy butthole, now even winking at him in time to the throbs of my now
rockhard little boy peg.

"Oh shit!" I heard him say, half under his breath.  I didn't move and
neither did he.  But then – then – there it was.  Oh fuck!  He was
touching me there.  Oh shit!  "Ahhhh," I sighed aloud, and this emboldened
him, as I felt his calloused fingertip gently go over my tight pucker more
and more.  "Yes!" I spurted out.  "Yes!" again.  With my third "Yes!" he
took his finger away.

"Okay," he said, standing up, "you're on your own for the rest."  A little
disappointed, but mostly satisfied with what I had gotten, I turned around,
only to be almost face-to-face with his now half hard cock.  It was
definitely rising up, sticking out at an angle and fatter, maybe at about 5
inches now...  Mine was still rockhard, of course, proudly and unashamedly
sticking up from my hairless little boy crotch.  I unabashedly stared at
the sight before me.  "You wanna see it all the way hard?" my uncle asked.
All I could do was nod.

As he rubbed the bar of soap over it, it continued to rise.  Then, as he
put the soap down and used just his hands, it came up to its full harness –
I dunno – 7 inches maybe.  When he took his hands away, it stood
straight up, almost touching his stomach – just like mine.  "Wooowww," I
said, almost in a whisper.  He chuckled and tousled my hair.

Then he just went to washing the rest of him off, from the face down.  I
did the same as we took turns with the bar of soap.  He stood facing me the
whole time and I watched, fascinated, as his cock slowly started to deflate
and return to its flaccid state right before my eyes.  My three inch
erection, on the other hand, had not gone down one centimeter.

Now you might think (or WANT to think, in your horniness) that I had
thoughts of touching his cock, or sucking it or such things.  But nothing
like that ever crossed my mind.  I had no desire for stuff on that level
with him.  The fixation I had on his cock was just the fascination of a boy
only recently thinking about changes in his own body and what that would
eventually bring.  The hard-on, on my part, was just my response to the
buttal stimulation, and the continued intimacy we were sharing, not the
least of which was my uncle getting hard for me.  That was such a terribly
private, personal thing for him to do and it made me feel closer to him,
and therefore more relaxed with him – a little more at ease with my
situation.  In truth, I hadn't even thought about anything we had done
(last night or today) as being "gay."  It was just "stuff" – stuff that
happened in the moment; born out of a scared, lonely, but hormone-crazed
boy's situation.

When we got out of the tub, I just stood there while he dried himself off.
"What?  Aren't you going to dry yourself off?" he asked.  I just shook my
head "no."  "So you want me to do that too?" he asked.  I shook my head
vigorously in the affirmative.  He shook his head back and forth in a "what
am I going to do with you?" type of way, but immediately began drying my
hair with his towel.  I don't know why I was acting like such a little boy.
As I said, I was confused, scared, lonely, and desperate.  I think the
little boy act was a way to kind of go back and be little with him and grow
up into him – a way to bond – a way to make him love me and want to
protect me.  I liked that feeling of being protected, accepted, cared for.
I needed it.  I really needed it.

He got down on his knees and reached around to dry my white butt.  I
shuddered and had to put my arms out and lean onto him when he dried my
still hard little pricklett.  He brushed the towel over it a couple of
times, then wrapped the towel around it with his fingers and squeezed
gently.  I shuddered.  "Gosh," he said, with a laugh in his voice, "you are
one horny little fucker aren't you?"  I shook my head yes.

He finished drying my legs.  When he turned around after hanging up the
towel, I put my arms up toward him.  He started toward me, then hesitated.
"Wait," he said, "I just ain't comfortable walkin' around naked.  I'll be
right back."  And he was.  Within 10 seconds, he walked back into the
bathroom wearing nothing but his blinding white briefs – his normal
evening attire at home.  He dutifully picked me up.  As before, he put his
hand on my (this time naked) butt and shifted me to get me on his hips as I
squeezed my legs around his bare waist.  This time, though, he kept his
hand right on my naked smooth globes.  Just like I wanted.  I sighed and
kind of melted into him.  My little still hard boystick was poking into his
bare stomach.

We walked around – staying upstairs – going through the three
bedrooms and around the beds and back. He petted my back, squeezed and
petted my little butt too.  It was heaven.

I started to cry.

"Oh, Jesse," he said softly, still squeezing, hugging, holding, and petting
me, bare butt and all, "if you need to cry you just go ahead and cry.  Get
it all out.  My dad when I was younger," he continued, "told me not to cry.
It wasn't good for me and I swore that if I ever had children I was going
to let them cry whenever they needed to."  He kept petting me all over,
even snuggling his scratchy cheek into me a little bit.  Wow, my macho
uncle continued to surprise me.  And did he just refer to me as his child?

But anyway, I did need to cry.  And cry I did.  For 20 minutes, maybe
longer.  And he never made a move to put me down.  He carried me slowly
around the upstairs the whole time as I clung to him and cried on his
shoulder.  As you might realize, my penis went totally soft as I cried.  I
had forgotten all about it.  Almost forgotten that I was naked and that my
uncle was almost nude as well.  My brain was just taking in the closeness,
the intimacy – the fact that I could cry and that someone was there to
not let me go as long as I needed to cry.  It was liberating.

Finally, I stopped.  We went into my bedroom and he sat down with me on my
bed, then helped me to get my nose all blowed out.  I couldn't believe how
gentle and well – maternal he was being.  "I'm hungry," he said after a
few moments, as he rubbed my bare chest, "how about you?"  "I could eat," I
managed.  "Okay then," he said, sliding me onto the bed and getting up.
"Do me a favor," he continued, "put at least a little something on so
you're not just butt naked in the living room all night."  I nodded.

All I put on this time were my pajama pants – the same big, lose ones as
last night.  I felt like I had had all the closeness I needed for the day,
and I certainly wasn't planning on being spanked again – not ever again.
But I think somewhere in the back of my mind – in the way back, dark
reaches of my pubescent boy brain – I told myself that if something WAS
going to happen again, that I wanted to be totally naked when the time came
and not have a shirt to get in the way.  Fuck.

Anyway, we ate, watched the news and sports shows he liked, then I got a
turn at the video games again while he read the paper.  Around the same
time as the night before I heard him say, "Time for bed, Jesse."  Fuck.
What was I to do?  Something happened in my head again - something like the
night before but from a different place – something snapped in me.  I
was totally going on adrenaline and hormones now.  Thinking only with my
already hardening dick: "Make me!" I shouted with as much teenage snarl as
I could muster.

"You want another spanking like I gave you last night?" he said, only half
shouting.  (Fuck, you can't tell?)  "You wouldn't dare!" I shouted.  "You
ain't MAN enough!" I bellowed, never digressing from my video game.  Heck,
we both knew he WAS man enough as he had already done it.  He stood up.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his menacing stance.  But I don't think
he knew what to do.  I persevered: "Don't even THINK about it, you Son of a
BITCH!"  Cussing at him!  That pushed him over.

"You little mutha-fucker!" he cried, once again knocking the game control
from me with one hand while he grabbed me with the other arm and heaved me
up into the air like I was nothing.  "Nooo!" I shouted, and only barely
pretended to tug at his arm.  My young boycock had never been harder.

Once again, he ripped my pants down.  He actually had to pull them away
from me as they got stuck on my hard cock.  His rough hand even scraped my
little boy erection in the process!  That was enough to almost send me
convulsing in orgasmic bliss.  But fuck it was ALL so hot!  Feeling the air
suddenly hit my suddenly bare ass and genitals.  Feeling the strength and
power in him!  My cock was already moving – flexing in and out.  As the
pants came down, I kicked my legs, making sure they would come off and that
I'd be totally naked before we got to the couch.  I was.

"You bad boy!" he cried, but hardly shouting.  We both knew this was all
fake and we both knew the other one knew it.  But we both wanted it.  We
would play the game.  I made no pretense of trying to get away and he
didn't even try to hold me down, but simply let his one hand rest on my
back and started wailing on my upturned little bottom with the other.
"Whack!  Whack Whack!"

"Whack!  Whack Whack!"

"Whack!  Whack Whack!"

Oh fuck!  It was awesome!  The sting, the stimulation, the whole idea again
of me being manhandled, being naked like that, my ragingly hard boy-boner
smashing over and over against my uncle's naked leg; and him just in his
tighty whities.  Fuck!  It was awesome.

I also made no pretense of shouting "Ow" this time, but went straight to
the natural reaction of what I was feeling, namely, grunts, groans and
moans of hormone-fueled young teenage boy lust.  My high-pitched,
little-boy "ooh's" and "ahh's" permeated the room, along with the high
pitched swats Uncle Ray was putting on my stinging, now pink no doubt, ass.

"UhhhhOhhhh..." I moaned, my sounds now becoming more guttural.  But he was
slowing down.  "Owww!  Ohhhh!" I pretended to thrash in pain.  I also
wanted to wiggle my hard little boy piece against his muscular leg some
more.  He went back at me with more vigor.  "Whack!  Whack Whack!"  But I
wanted more.  "Is that the best you can do, you big wimp?" I cried.  "Oh,
you want it mutha-fucker?" he growled.  And then he began to really whip me
in earnest.  Oh fuck!  The sting on my ass – the stimulation was
incredible.  My pubescent hairless boycock was raging and I wiggled around
more, grinding my little hard rod into his muscular thigh.  "Ow!" I cried
again, not totally playing this time.  But it was wonderful.  I mean it
hurt, yeah – but I was lost in another world.  And in this world, the
stinging stimulation on my backside was wonderful.

"You're a bad, bad boy!" he said, slapping my ass with each word.  "You're
a bad man!" I cried, egging him on while the high-pitched slaps on my
narrow little ass continued to fill the room.  Back and forth like that we
went – yelling at each other, cussing at each other.  All the cussing
with an adult seemed so forbidden and naughty that it made my hard dick
ache for release even that much more.

I continued to squirm to get my little peepee off on his manly thigh, while
enticingly jutting my pert little boy behind up at him to meet his slaps.
In between his shouts at me, I could tell he was breathing hard –
something he hadn't done the night before.  Pushing on the floor, I lifted
myself up a few inches and over, then slammed myself down on his lap right
against his stomach.  And FUCK!  There it was!  It was unmistakable.  His
cock was in its full hard seven inch state, straining at the bonds of his
underwear.  I stayed in position but writhed around even more, my bare hip
rubbing and smashing against his hard tool, separated only by a thin piece
of cotton.

"Oh fuck!" he cried.  It was too much for him.  He could no longer keep up
the premise of shouting at me and calling me names, and neither could I.
"Shit, fuck, shit!" he cried as I wiggled against his 7 incher while he
just managed to keep up the spanking.  "Fuboo...shkk," he cried, not even
able to say words, as his spanking slowed down.  "Harder, Uncle Ray!  I'm
almost there!" I cried.  Okay, I had broken the play acting.  But no
matter.  He sped up.  And really fast and hard.  His sounds were now
nothing but loud, sharp grunts and groans; and my "OW'S!" for the first
time were totally real as he seemed to be spanking me as fast and just
about as hard as he could!  "OOOWWWW!  AAAAHHHH!" I screamed.  But as he
wasn't holding me and I didn't move away, he didn't stop.  It was almost
more than I could take but we had built up to it and my butt was ready.
And I just couldn't stop.  I mean, my cock rubbing on his leg, the side of
my ass rubbing on his big hard-on, the slapping sounds, his grunts, my own
screams.  I was lost in a world where pain didn't register in the normal
way.

It was registering as a sting – a very hard sting, but that sting was
sending electricity through me right down to my young boyrod.  I was on the
verge.  I could hold off no longer.  And then it hit!  "FFFFUUUCCCKKK!!!" I
screeched as my little 70 pound body went into obscene convulsions while I
began pumping out my special brew onto him with all the force my young
loins could muster.  "FFFFUUUCCCKKK!!!" I yelled out again.  Then he
stopped spanking me.  I was barely in the throes of my massive cum: "DON'T
STOP!!" I shrieked, nearly shattering all the windows.  He dove in again,
hard and fast with his rough hand, his grunts and moans punctuating my
filthy talk, sending me into orbit even more.  He started also bucking his
own hips up to meet me, trying to get his cloth-covered cock in contact
with my smooth body.  FUCK!!!

I thrashed about for minutes it seemed before I finally was spent and
collapsed onto his lap, my sticky, wet cock smashed into the small puddle
of cum I had left on his leg.  I couldn't get enough breath to speak, so I
managed to put my hand back and on my behind in order to get him to stop
spanking me.  Now that I was totally done with my orgasm, my ass was on
fire – the spanking was hurting like hell.  When he felt my hand, he
stopped but it took him two or three more whacks to process it and really
slow down and then stop, so lost was he in the scene we were in.

"Oh Jesse!" he cried and started rubbing his hand all over my little bare
behind.  I moved my hand off of it to give him access.  "Oh Jesse, oh fuck
oh man oh Jesse!" he cried as he continued to pet, rub, and massage my
13-year-old hairless white cheeks.  "Oh fuck," he continued and was more or
less babbling non-stop.  I was too spent and out of breath to talk but
inside my head I was more or less saying the same thing as he.

Eventually, his babbling slowed and he sputtered to a stop, still breathing
hard and still rubbing my butt with just as much vigor.  I was totally soft
in my crotch now so the butt rubbing wasn't really sexual for me at this
point.  But still, it felt nice.  It was that feeling of intimacy again –
of sharing my private place with him and him accepting it.  I was
definitely enjoying the attention.  My little buns still felt hot and still
stung, and the rather rough way he went about rubbing them wasn't exactly
helping the pain.  But like I said, it was attention that I craved and I
was getting it.

"Jesse," he sighed out after a moment of silence, still rubbing my cheeks.
"Huh?" I managed to say quietly.  "Your butt is all pink.  Fuck it's so
beautiful man.  I mean, it looks good enough to—" And then he stopped
his hand abruptly.  A second later, he turned me over with quick precision
and I found myself being lifted up like a rag doll in his amazingly strong
arms.  I could feel the hardness of the muscles against my bare skin.
"Where are we going?" I asked, with not a little trepidation as he nearly
ran up the steps, me in his arms.  "I'm gonna help your butt!" he said.
"H...how?" I asked, again not without fear.  I mean, Uncle Ray hadn't cum
yet and I had already seen what horny people are capable of.  "I'm gonna
kiss it and make it better!" he proclaimed, as he walked through his
bedroom door.  Shit, I wasn't sure what to think.  Kiss my butt?  My big,
hulking, macho uncle?  I bounced up and down a few times when he just
dropped me onto the bed.  "Roll over," he said when I came to rest.  He
said it with a grin.  But it was a command.

COMING SOON: *** Chapter 3 – KISS IT AND MAKE IT BETTER ***

***************

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