This story details explicit gay sex between men, teens and boys. If you find this kind of thing distasteful, or if you are underage where ever you live, then stop reading this now, and delete this file. The story is completely fictional, the author does not condone or encourage any of the acts contained herein.


Chapter 13

I wake up at about 10am. I'm wrapped around Jason. Kenny has an early day, and has carefully extricated himself from the bed and already left for work. Jason is already awake and is facing me. He looks really worried.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I was supposed to have breakfast ready at 7am. But you were holding me so tight...and I didn't want to wake you."

I lean forward and kiss him. "`Sokay. I wouldn't have been alive to eat it at 7 anyway."

Jason looks really upset, almost as if he's been crying. "I feel so bad about Kenny. I treated him pretty badly."

"Yup. You owe him an apology, just as he apologized to you."

He nods, absently. Looking into my eyes. "Will you forgive me?"

"Soon," I say, "once we get you punished."

He nods. Thinks. "Can we do that this morning, because I'd really like to be forgiven sooner rather than later. And...that'd leave the afternoon open...for...other things."

He is just so fucking cute. It's really hard to stay mad at him. But I've resolved to be obdurate, at least until he's punished. "What do you think this is worth," I ask?

He gulps, and thinks. "Twenty with the razor strop?"

I shake my head. "I can't give you twenty with the razor strop. That'd cause physical damage. No. I'll give you twelve with this razor strop," bargaining him down, "and two with the cane. We can do it this morning."

He nods. "Okay. When?"

"Well, we have to have some `anticipation' time, don't we," I say with a chuckle. "And I can't beat you on an empty stomach. After breakfast...which you don't get to eat. You get to go hungry for a meal." I giggle, thinking of Jason as some kind of modern-day Oliver Twist, relegated to gruel. Not bloody likely. This boy is too meaty. "Go make breakfast," I say, giving him a squeeze before releasing him.

He scurries away, and I go take a shower, finally wandering down to the kitchen some twenty minutes later. I'm not big on clothes, so I haven't put any on. It's not that I'm an exhibitionist. I just find them an encumbrance. They get in the way. And I'm fairly fit for 38, so I'm not really ashamed of my body.

I sit down at the table, and Jason pushes a plate of food in front of me: fried eggs and barbequed pork, along with a bowl of rice porridge. A hearty meal. Then he sits down at my feet.

"No," I say, chuckling. "Obeisance is fine, but at eye level. I don't want to have to constantly look down at you." I smile.

He takes a chair, watching me eat.

After a few minutes stuffing my face, I look over at Jason. "So what's the deal with Kenny? You still want him here?" (Not that I'm going to let him go. I just want to hear what Jason has to say.)

He tears up instantly, looking scared. "Please don't send him away. I really love Kenny...although I didn't...show it very well."

I give him a long look. "Kenny is very sweet. So, why'd you treat him like shit?"

Jason stares at the floor. "Laziness. The opportunity to pass all my chores to him." He looks up, looks me in the eye. "I can't justify this, Tim. I was an idiot. Please punish me. I'll apologize to Kenny this evening."

I nod, finish my breakfast, fill my coffee cup once again, and nod my head toward the basement door.

Jason is down the stairs in a flash, and spread out on the table. I attach the straps, grab the razor strop from the wall, and give him six hard strokes in rapid succession. His ass is red, glowing, and he is sobbing. Six more, and he's just beginning to bruise. Replacing the razor strop on the wall, I grab my whippy little plastic cane. I'm not big on canes because they can really do damage. They do deliver a lot of very localized pain, but the scars... I prefer belts, straps, something with a broader pain coefficient that's less likely to do damage. But this little thing, what the Brits call a `junior cane' I think, provides a fair amount of sting with little real harm, especially after the ass has been tenderized with the strop. I aim for the crease between the ass and the leg and let fly with two strokes, each of which draws a scream from Jason.

Returning the cane to the wall, I release Jason and carry him upstairs, grabbing the Kleenex from the kitchen on the way. He is teary and snotty, and I don't need this all over me. I wipe his eyes, and make him blow, and then he sits on my lap, his head draped over my shoulder, hugging me tightly.

"I'm sorry, Tim."

"It's not me you have to be sorry to in this case, Jason. You need to be a better cousin. You need to show Kenny some respect. And you need to not delegate quite all of your chores to him."

"I know," he says. "But I failed you. You asked me to take charge of Kenny, and I did a shitty job."

I give him a hug. "You're forgiven. We had a really, REALLY good time last night, and I feel badly that you didn't get to come. So, we're going dancing tonight."

He sits up and looks me in me eye, his smile radiant. I wipe a tear or two away with my thumb, and smile, kissing him. "Be a better cousin, Jason."

He smiles. "I will."


Kenny gets home at about 1:30 looking really cute in his suit. I'm not big on suits, in general, but he looks really good in them, for some reason. I subscribe to the "color theory" that suggests that people have specific colors that complement their skin tone, hair color, and personality. Kenny is somehow plugged into this, because the colors he chooses for shirts, ties, and the suits themselves are nearly perfect. He's a very pretty boy, and what he wears certainly accentuates that. Maybe that's why his sales results have soared. Or, maybe it's his humpy little ass...

I hear the door open, and wander into the entryway. Kenny gives me a warm smile. "Thank you so much for last night," he says, closing the door. "I've never done anything like that before." I smile, and kiss him, and then Jason arrives, contrite. They begin a conversation in Cantonese, and Jason kneels on one leg. Kenny looks at me, a little embarrassed, and lifts Jason by the chin. Switching to English: "It's okay, Jason. I...umm...do love you, you know." Jason is beside himself, hugs him, kisses him. There's real affection here. You can sense it. Kenny slaps Jason on his naked ass, (not a good idea, probably at this particular moment, given that it's crimson) and walks towards his room, giggling. "I've got to get dressed...or undressed," he laughs.

Five minutes later, Kenny is back, naked, as he's supposed to be. Jason is very excited. "We're going dancing tonight." Then, realizing that I hadn't said that Kenny was coming, he looks at me urgently. "Kenny can come, too, right?"

I frown. Wait a beat or too.

Jason is almost frantic. "Please..."

I crack a grin. "Of course he can come."

He runs and hugs me.

"Where are we going," Kenny asks, smiling?

"I thought we'd go to TD's." Short for `Tinker's Damn,' TD's is a very small gay dance club in...where...Santa Clara, I guess. It's got a small dance floor, and an equally small entrance fee. It's a very cute little place. "Have you been there?"

He grins. "Oh, yeah, but not for a while." He looks at Jason and smirks. "You?"

Jason cuffs him, playfully. "No," he blurts.

They both start to giggle again, chatting in Cantonese, laughing. This should be fun.

I head back to the office, intending to get some work done, but Jason is right on my tail dragging Kenny by the hand. Kenny is blushing, bright red. As I sit down, Jason is instantly in my lab, with Kenny standing to the side of the desk. Jason hugs me furiously, and then detaches, moving back, looking into my eyes.

"I'd like to be forgiven, please."

I'm a little confused. "But I have..." Then I see the coy smile, and Kenny's fierce blush, and start to laugh. "And...umm...who do you want to forgive you?"

Jason now starts to giggle, hiding his face in his hands. "Both of you."

I wink at Kenny, and he smiles, shrugs. I get up from the chair, carrying Jason to the bedroom, pulling Kenny along by the hand. Kenny closes the door behind us -- god knows why. I lay Jason on the bed, and start to take off my clothes, but Kenny slaps my hand away from my shirt, and starts to kiss me. At the same time, Jason unfastens my belt, and begins to undress me. Before long, I too am naked, on the bed, with both boys attached to me. Jason is hard, and poking me in the thigh. Kenny is hard, and poking me in the ass. I am hard, poking Jason...somewhere.


Jason whispers: "We'll call this a mini-Santa Cruz," and giggles.

And then Kenny giggles: "What about a Salinas?"

"Yucky," Jason screams. "How about a Carmel-by-the-Sea." We all giggle.

Kenny is kissing my neck, still nudging me in the ass with his erection.

"Do you want to fuck me, Kenny."

He stops cold, and Jason stops nuzzling me. There's a long, long pause. "Yes."

I giggle, and kiss Jason, a several-second kiss. Breaking the kiss: "Okay. The lotion's in the night-stand."

I'm not sure he can believe what I've just said, because he's very quiet for several seconds. I go back to kissing Jason, but his eyes are wide open. He, too, is incredulous. I break the kiss. "Guys, some times I like to be fucked." Looking at Jason: "You can fuck me, too, sometime, if you want."

He blushes. "I don't think that'll work. I don't think this'll work," he says, glancing at his dick. A true bottom.

I glance back at Kenny, who's blushing furiously. "So, you gonna fuck me or not."

He blushes even darker, but grabs the tube of lotion from the night-stand drawer and slicks up his dick, and then brushes some around my asshole. Then he hugs me from behind, sucking on my neck, while he slowly penetrates me. Kenny is hung like me, a perfect dick for anal sex -- slim and long, and silky-smooth. He slides into me so smoothly that I'm not really sure he's all the way in until I feel his belly against my back. As he starts to pump, he continues to suck on my neck, while Jason continues to kiss me, stroking my very swollen dick. I return the favor, stroking him slowly at first, and then with more fervor. I don't think we can last long, but we do, going at it for twenty minutes before Kenny starts to blast inside me, and the chain reaction begins. I'm next, and then Jason. As our orgasms subside, we're all out of breath. Kenny giggles. "Umm...that was nice."

Jason begins to laugh hysterically, and cuffs him, playfully. "We need a new line for a Carmel-by-the-fucking-Sea."


I change my mind about TD's, and decide to take the boys to N'Touch in San Francisco. It's better suited to what I have in mind. I ask Kenny whether he's been there, and he starts to grin furiously. "Umm...yeah."

It's a Wednesday night, so it's not going to be crawling, but N'Touch is always well attended. I tell Kenny to be ready for anything, and he looks at me quizzically, but doesn't pursue it.

N'Touch is a good choice because it's in San Francisco (a whole lot more liberal than San Jose), because it's primarily an Asian venue, because it has cages for go-go boys, and because I know the owner, a renowned rice queen. I call him and tell him what I'd like to do. We haven't spoken in a while, so he's pleased to hear from me, and laughs when I tell him what I'm planning.

"How will he take it?"

"He'll hate it, but that's the point. It's punishment."

He laughs again. "Well, I'm not into this BDSM thing you're into, but I'll facilitate it, especially if there are cute Asian boys involved. You did say he was cute."

"You won't be disappointed, believe me, Brian."

He laughs. "Well, we've never had a problem here. No raids. No harassment. It's San Francisco, after all. They know who pays their salaries. When do you want to come?"

I take a deep breath. I'm giving him no notice at all. I pause.

He laughs. "I'm hoping it's tonight, actually, Tim, because I'm short a boy."

I exhale. "It's tonight." We both laugh.

"What time?"

"I figure we'll get there at around 9:30. We'll dance for an hour or so, and then I'll give him 30 minutes to do it. Should be around 11."

"Prime time."

"Exactly. It'll only be for 30 minutes, though, unless he loves it...which he won't."

"That's fine," he says laughing.

"Great. So we'll se you at around 9:30."


We arrive at 9:15. Kenny drives Jason's car, and traffic is remarkably light, although this is a Wednesday night. I wouldn't expect too much traffic. The club, however, is hopping. I should probably clarify. N'Touch is one of the cruisiest clubs in San Francisco. Intended for Asians `and their admirers,' it has a bar, a small dance floor, and some of the cutest go-go boys in the area. Three go-go cages. The boys are very skimpily clad, Speedos at best...or worst. One of those cages is empty tonight, Brian has said.

We arrive at the door, and the bouncer cards each of us (which I find rather flattering). Kenny is fine, and I will obviously have no problem. Jason has a false ID I've had made for him, and I'm a little concerned about whether it's going to work, but it does. He stamps our hands and we go inside. It's a gauntlet entering this place. The bar is first, and there are chairs on either side. This is the cruising area. Just getting through the crowd to the dance floor requires a lot of physical contact. If you're a cute Asian boy, a lot of guys are going to cop a feel, and if you don't like that, as Jason does not, the object is to get to the dance floor as quickly as you can. He figures this out very quickly, and soon we're dancing to high-octane semi-disco: Madonna, Cher, Nora Jones, John Meyer, the current stuff, and, curiously, a lot of Korean pop. After a few dances, I head to the bar and meet up with Brian, who hugs me, and we chat briefly as he gets our drinks. I point out Jason, and he smiles: "You're right. I'm not disappointed."

I motion to Jason and Kenny, and they come retrieve their drinks, Jason's a whiskey sour (which he's developed a taste for) and Kenny's a coke (as designated driver). We drink, and we dance, and we drink, and we dance. After an hour and a quarter, I take Jason aside.

"Having fun?"

"Yeah," he replies!

"I'm glad, but this is actually the last part of your punishment for mistreating Kenny." He looks worried. "Your job right now is to get yourself naked and into that go-go cage where you'll dance for at least thirty minutes. I don't care how you do that, how you insinuate yourself into that cage, but that's where you need to be, naked, within thirty minutes."

He starts to plead.

"I warned you about this, Jason. I told you that if I wanted to strut you around naked at HP Pavilion in the middle of a rock concert, I'd do it. This will be a lot more receptive crowd. You have 30 minutes. Learn to be a better cousin."

I move back onto the dance floor and start dancing with Kenny, who can seriously dance and is drawing a lot of attention, attention that he relishes.

Glancing over at the corner where I left Jason, he's in tears, trying to get control, but has his shirt off. His skin is just so creamy, so bronze, his brown nipples so intensely inviting. He looks at me, and I smile, and wink. He smiles back, wanly, and then broadly, and puts his shirt back on. I'm mystified. I have no idea what he's thinking.

Leaning over the bar, he begins talking to Brian, who motions to the empty go-go cage. Jason nods, and disappears for a minute, and then he's in the cage -- fully clothed. Brian is smiling broadly, laughing, pointing to Jason as he begins a very slow, sensual strip-tease. The crowd is riveted, and quiet. All the talking, the screaming to be heard over the beat of the music has stopped. The entire room is still, looking at Jason as he gyrates, discarding first his shirt, then his shoes and socks, and then his pants. He dances like this for maybe ten minutes before slowly lowering his underwear and throwing them into the crowd. He is stunning, and a total surprise to the two other go-go boys. This is like Gary being tied naked to the fence, except Jason has done it himself (and he's a lot prettier than Gary). As the underpants sail through the air, the crowd roars, whistles, and Jason smiles broadly, continuing to move to the beat. He's decided to make this punishment his own. He is, after all, a very smart, very beautiful boy.

He dances in that cage for nearly an hour, and then disappears, reappearing next to me, still naked, still dancing -- to, of all things, a remix of Jefferson Starship's "We Built this City," a song I haven't heard in years but have loved. Grace Slick is a hero of mine, so beautiful, even today, and such a beautiful voice. The room seems to start moving in waves, undulating toward us as every white guy present strives to get close enough to touch him -- his ass, his dick, his chest, his back, his thighs, his balls. He makes no move to deflect anyone, and I find myself getting really jealous, really angry at him. Really, really angry at him. And then I get it. He's playing me. He has very deftly deflected the punishment...to me...but only if I'm up-tight about this, only if I accept it.

I move in and caress him, holding him behind the neck, pulling him into a kiss that seems to go on forever. By now, he's hard, and I start to stroke him, afraid that he'll come back to himself and instantly deflate, but he doesn't. He just keeps dancing, just keeps kissing, rubbing his erection against my leg. We go through Lifehouse's "You and Me," Greendays's "When September Ends," Eurythmics, Christina Aguilera, and even Cat Stevens.

This boy is adorable.

The music shifts to a remix of Gloria Estefan's "Conga" and the room goes absolutely insane. Jason, who has found the random touching begin to get a little too intimate, attaches himself to me, for protection, for comfort, who knows why. His head is draped over my shoulder as he holds me around the neck, gripping me around my middle with his legs. I do the dancing, carrying him as we go. The other dancers circle us, but stop touching Jason. Coming off my shoulder, he locks his lips to mine, and we dance the Conga in one of the longest most sensual kisses I've ever participated in, my husband's dick a spear in my belly. I don't think I've ever done anything as erotic as this. Kenny isn't even dancing. He's just standing back watching us, beaming. And Brian, well Brian looks like he's cum in his pants. (He tells me later that this will have been really good for business. Can we come back occasionally? He'll wave the cover, to which I snort.)

As we break the kiss, I smile at Jason. "You dance very well."

He breaks up. His feet haven't touched the ground in 15 minutes. He's beside himself with laughter, and, when he stops laughing, he locks his lips to mine again, and we finish out with something a little slower, a little dreamier: the Goo Goo Dolls "Name," a song of 4 minutes 29 seconds. The only reason that fact is relevant is because that's how long the kiss lasts. And his feet never touch the ground.

We get home at 2:30am. Kenny drives. Jason and I in the back seat, Jason fast asleep, and still naked -- we didn't bother wading through the crowd, trying to retrieve his clothes from the go-go cage. Brian tells us he'll retrieve them for us when the crowd dissipates. Jason is just adorable, lying in my lap, snoring softly, peacefully, stark naked. I carry him to bed, Kenny moving to his own room.

"Join us," I whisper, and his eyes light up.

We crawl into bed beside Jason, and I continue to whisper to Kenny. "You know he did that for you. Tonight was the last part of his punishment for how he's treated you."

He breaks up, quietly. "That was punishment?"

I giggle. "Well, yeah. That was the intension. Little Jason was intensely shy. WAS."

He giggles. "Me no think that work so well anymore, Kemo Sabe." He giggles furiously, wrapping himself around me.

We've had an absolute blast, and Jason is absolutely blasted -- on dancing, whiskey-sours, and public nudity. I hug him, and in his sleep he hugs me back -- so tightly I can almost not breathe.

This boy truly is adorable.

Published first at: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Nemo-stories/