WARNING

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.

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Chapter 16

Four months later, I'm back in the basement with Jason. He has continued to get A's in everything but math, where he has another B. Calculus 2. I am seriously angry, and he was seriously scared when he brought me the grade report. A's in English, Biology, Psychology 5, and French 5. And a B+ in math. "This is not fucking good enough, Jason. This is your best goddamn subject. You're a whiz in math. Why aren't you achieving?"

He's tearing up the minute he hands me the grade report. I'm very upset. Very disappointed. "Before I beat you to within an inch of your life, how do you want to celebrate those four A's?"

He's crying softly. "Can the four of us" (Kenny, Andrew, Jason and me) "go to Guernville for the weekend?"

I giggle. "Yes. We can do that, maybe this weekend. He smiles wanly. "I'll need to find out what Kenny's and Andrew's work schedules look like. We can definitely do that. I lean over and kiss him. "I'm so proud of you for those four A's, so proud," kissing him again. "But that B+ is going to cost you big time. Very, very disappointing."

I get the razor strop. "15 tonight with the razor strop and nine with the junior cane, and another 15 on Thursday (two days hence) with the razor strop and nine with the junior cane. I apparently didn't get through to you last time. You have to bring your math scores up. You're good at this. Do I need to go talk to your teacher?"

"No, please," he sobs. "I'll ask him for extra help."

"When?"

"On...umm...Monday." The next day of school.

"I'm very disappointed in that B+, Jason. I'm so proud of the A's, but that B+ is simply not acceptable."

I apply the first five strokes in rapid succession. This is not just to make him cry, this time. This is intended to make him hurt. I want him to remember this. I rest my arm for a couple minutes, and then have at him again, with five more quick strokes, very hard. He's sobbing. After a couple of minutes, I apply the last five strokes of the razor strop. He's wailing. "Please...please...Tim...I'm so sorry."

Jason hates the razor strop. I return it to the wall, and return with the junior cane. I give him six pretty good strokes, which cause him to scream, and then, after a couple of minutes, three more aimed at the crease between his ass and his legs. He is a snotty mess.

"Please...Tim...please...don't..."

"If that math grade isn't an A next term, I will double this, and your ass will not be fit to present, and believe me, I will present it anyway – to everyone I know. Fix this, Jason."

He's choking on his tears. "I will...I will..."

I release him, and take him upstairs where he sits on my lap crying piteously. Jason had already told Kenny about the grade report, so Kenny knows that this is going to be nasty. He's made all Jason favorites for dinner – duck, stuffed bitter melon, and sea cucumber. As I carry him out of the basement, Kenny looks so sympathetic. We sit for an hour as I stroke his back and hair, calming him down.

Moving back, he kisses me, and I return the kiss, smiling at him. "Fix that grade, Jason."

Still choking on tear, "I'll try."

I pull a Kleenex from the box, wipe his eyes, and make him blow his nose. "Don't try. Do it."

He smiles, and Kenny ducks in to tell us that dinner's ready, and we move to the dining room. Jason is attached to me, hugging me around the neck, his legs wrapped around my stomach. I carry him to the dining room and set him down in a chair. The minute he sits and looks around, he realizes that Kenny has made all his favorites, and tears up just a little, smiling across the table at Kenny. "Thank you, Kenny," he says softly.

"No problem," Kenny replies, smiling, equally softly. Andrew winks at him, and smiles. Male bonding.

Kenny has become a really good cook. Self-taught, and pan-Asian, somewhere between Chinese and Vietnamese. He's learned a lot from Jason, who learned a lot from both Nathan and his mother. We eat very, very well here.

"What are your work schedules this weekend," I ask?

"I'm off," Andrew says, tucking into the sea cucumber.

"Me, too," Kenny says. "They didn't schedule me this weekend. Not sure why."

"Good." I smile at Jason. "Jason got four A's. We're going to Guernville."

"Cool," Andrew giggles. "Where the hell is Guernville? What the hell is Guernville?"

I laugh. "Guernville is a little town that sits right on the Russian River, north of San Francisco. With every good rain, Guernville floods, so most of the houses are built on stilts. It is a quaint little town. It is also," I pause for effect, "the gayest place on earth." I giggle. "A lot of the residents moved there years and years ago, heteros looking for a place to build a vacation cabin. And, as these people died, and their properties were sold, the gay guys started to infiltrate, especially leather daddies. I once saw a parade of leather-folk in Guernville, probably 200 leather daddies with their boys, all dressed in Speedos (them that were dressed at all), collars and leashes. It was very...refreshing. Of course, the heteros in town were gathered, watching from across the street, very unhappy about what their town had become, very judgmental. But it didn't matter, because this is what the town had, in fact, already become. Not a damned thing they could do about it. It's totally picturesque. It's woods basically. It's good for swimming in the river by day, kayaking, hiking, and for partying by night, in the gayest clubs on earth. We're going to take the Westfalia (my 25 year old camper) and sleep under the stars. That's how Jason wants to be rewarded for his four A's in English, Biology, Psychology, and French. That will be after I've finished spanking him nearly to death for a B+ in math."

Andrew looks surprised. "I thought you were really good in math."

Jason looks hurt, and then shocked that Andrew would say this, and then defensive, and then sad. He drops his head, tears up.

Andrew gulps, realizing what he's just done. "Sorry," he says.

"He is `really good' in math. He's a fucking whiz in math," I say, bitterly, and then smile. And that's why he'll be going to Guernville...with a positively crimson ass. He will be sleeping with me, on the upper deck of the Westfalia...on his stomach."

Jason looks shamefaced. Kenny, who has been trying really, really hard to control his expressions, starts to giggle – furiously. He catches himself almost instantly, and makes his face go solemn. Jason looks hurt."

And I plan to exacerbate that. "Jason, stand up." He looks confused, but does. "Turn around." Again shamefaced, he turns. "Bend over."

His ass is crimson, in some places black and blue, with nine nasty red wheals from the cane. He stays that way for probably 30 seconds, as I chew on a piece of duck, until I tell him he can sit back down. "And this is only the first course," I say. Looking at him, "There is no fucking excuse for anything less than an A from you in math. No excuse. Fix this, Jason."

His head hanging. "I'll tr..." Pause. Looking at me nervously. "I will..."

My eyes narrow. "Make sure you do, because the next B in math will cause you considerably more distress than this one has."

He sniffs, but goes on eating. I change the subject.

So, to celebrate those four A's, to Guernville we will go – camping. We'll leave Friday afternoon, and come back Sunday."

"Cool," says Andrew. Kenny smiles, chewing. And Jason looks up, smiling, continuing to devour Kenny's excellent meal.

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Thursday brings the second half of Jason's punishment, and I was right, he can hardly bear to sit down. He is really black and blue, and the wheals from the cane have overlapped with his previous wheals in a very attractive sort of thatched motif. He really hadn't recovered from Tuesday's beating yet, so this one is doubly painful. He shrieks and begs with each stroke of both instruments. "Please, Tim...please stop."

"Fix the grade, Jason."

"I will...I'll do better...I promise. Please..."

"I want you to remember this, Jason. Because if it's a B next time, it's going to be much worse."

At the end of his punishment, he is inconsolable for over an hour. I take him to the bedroom where I lay him on the bed – on his belly – apply some topical ointment to his ass, and lie with him, stroking his back as he slowly calms down. His ass is bruised, to say the least. After about an hour, he scootches over so he lying on top of me, his head draped over my shoulder, belly to belly, still sniffing back tears. I stroke his back, and he whispers. "I'm sorry, Tim... I didn't realize until the end that I'd fallen behind in math, and didn't have time to catch up. I'll do better next term, I promise. I have to keep better track of my assignments."

I lift his head, and kiss him, a long and very erotic kiss that has him quickly hard, despite his sore ass. I giggle as he spears me in the thigh. "Someone needs to get off."

He giggles. "Yeah, but I don't want to lie on my back."

I laugh, and an idea comes to me. I lift Jason and carry him back down to the basement, laying him on the punishment table, with his dick and balls hanging through the hole in the middle of the table. He looks very scared. "Don't worry," I reassure him, petting his back, kissing him. "Just stay put."

I climb under the table and take his dick in my mouth. He gasps. He was not expecting this. I am quite a good cocksucker, as Jason well knows, and it's not long before his breathing begins to get a little ragged, and his balls, which I've been tickling, begin to retract, moving up toward his body. Swirling my tongue over his dick head, I aim to drive him a little crazy. Being uncircumcised, he's very sensitive there. It doesn't take long. Soon he groans, then screams – very unusual for Jason – and shoots a load in my mouth, shot after shot, which I duly swallow.

As he comes down from his high, I climb out from under the table. He's smiling, sort of euphorically. I kiss him. "Good?"

"Good," he replies.

I kiss him again, and carry him back to the bedroom, where I apply more ointment to his wounded ass, and where he fall fast asleep – on his belly.

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On Friday morning I load up the Westfalia with everything we'll need for the weekend. I know that some people cook in these things, but I prefer restaurant food when camping, and never have, which simplifies the supplies we need. Jason gets home from school at 12:30pm and helps me. Both Andrew and Kenny are due back from work at 1:30 and arrive right on time, both with huge grins. "We have to talk, Tim," Kenny says.

"Okay." We head to the office, both boys now naked and piled together into the single over-stuffed chair in front of the desk. Kenny passes me a sheaf of paper, which I unfold to find his performance report. It is stellar. Best sales performance at the store, `excellent, can-do attitude,' `admirable willingness to help other sales associates improve.' Just fucking stellar. And, he's gotten a raise in salary – of nearly 30%. Just fucking stellar. I drop the sheaf on my desk, and motion him across. He sits on my lap, and we kiss fondly as I stroke his hair. "Very, VERY impressive, babe, very impressive. I'm so proud of you". Kenny beams, a little teary-eyed.

Then I notice Andrew, as though for the first time. "And why are you here?"

He smiles, and hands me another sheaf of paper as Kenny moves back to the chair. Opening it, I realize that this is Andrews performance report, and it is just as stellar: `exemplary employee,' `significant asset to the company,' `increase in sales results of 32% over last quarter.' He, too, has been given a raise – of a whopping 27%. This, too, I drop on my desk, tearing up. I am particularly proud of Andrew because he seems to have beaten his drug habit, and has achieved so much. I motion him over and hug him so tightly, kissing him fondly. I have fallen in love with this boy. He drapes his head over my shoulder, and I look across at Kenny, still in the chair, beaming. "I am really, REALLY proud of you Kenny. You've done so well. But, I am even prouder of Andrew. He had more to...overcome. And he did it, largely because of you. I'm so happy you convinced me to take him in."

Kenny is beaming, and Andrew is crying, sobbing on my shoulder.

I pet him. "Shhhhh... This is a time for celebration, not for reliving the past, Andrew."

He nods, and whispers. "Thank you so much...for everything."

I hug him again, and push him off my lap. "Okay, guys, be thinking about how you'd like to celebrate, and we'll..."

They're both giggling furiously. "What's funny?"

"We already know," says a blushing Kenny, between bouts of laughter.

"Oookkaayy. And..."

Andrew is beet red, looking sheepishly at the floor. He says something so softly, staring at his feet, that I can't hear him.

"What?"

He looks up at me. "We'd...umm...like to go to...umm...N'Touch."

Kenny explodes with laughter, cuffing Andrew playfully, and then Andrew starts to giggle, adding "Like Jason did."

Now I'm laughing. These boys are telling me that they'd like to get naked and dance in the go-go cages for all to see. They really are little exhibitionists.

"I imagine we can do that," I respond, between sobs of laughter. This clearly isn't a punishment anymore.

Hearing all the laughter, Jason sticks his head in. "What's going on?"

Kenny and Andrew start giggling furiously, both flushing.

"Kenny and Andrew have both brought home stellar job performance reports, and have both gotten very hefty raises."

Jason is genuinely excited, and runs into the room, hugging each of them. "So, what are we doing," he asks, an impish grin on his face

I open my mouth to respond, when Kenny screams, "We asked to go to N'Touch, `like you'," and both Kenny and Andrew break up in peals of laughter. Jason looks a little confused, and then gets it, and starts to laugh, too, beet red.

"Jase, I need you to give your Mom a call and find out when she won't be in the apartment. Is she home now?"

"Probably," he smiles, running to the kitchen to call her.

I have a really novel idea for something new to do at N'Touch. I have no idea how any one is going to react to this. I shoo the boys out of the office, and call Gary.

"Umm...Gary...umm...Kenny and Andrew just brought home really good performance reports, and, of all things, asked to go to N'Touch and dance `like Jason'."

He starts to laugh. "Not a very effective punishment any more, hunh..."

"Yeah," I respond, musing. "I have an idea." And I lay it out for him, and he's laughing by the time I'm done, by the time I hear a knock on the door. "Hang on a sec."

I open the door, and there's Jason. "She's not going to be there the next two weekends, although her mahjong nights are Wednesday and Thursday."

I nod, and close the door. Perfect. I pick up the phone again. "How about next weekend? Saturday? You guys can stay with us in Oakland, if you want, though you're going to have to bring sleeping bags because I think we're out of room in the bed."

"Saturday sounds fine," he says, giggling, but I think we'll drive home afterwards.

"Will Nathan do this?"

"Oh, he'll do it. He might not like it, but he'll do it," he says with a snort.

Next I call Brian at N'Touch and tell him the plan.

"You are fucking kidding me. You've given me a week's notice, plenty of time to get the word out, and you want to know whether it's okay. Yeah!"

"So, we'll need the four cages, but will only use two of them – for a while."

"Bring it on, Tim. This will be amazing."

We say our goodbyes, and I hang up. This will be sensational, I think, for everyone with the possible exception of Nathan. He's pretty shy. But I've suspect he's wanted to do this for a long time, just not in public. I chuckle.

Emerging from my office, I head to the kitchen, where the boys are sitting at the table giggling and chatting in Cantonese. "Okay, boys, get dressed. We're going to Guernville." They begin to scurry away. "And, by the way, next Saturday night we're going to N'Touch." They all begin to giggle, and Kenny and Andrew give each other high-fives. These boys are close, and N'Touch should seal the deal."

The reality is, with three sexually-active boys in the house, my rule about abstinence except with me is not working well. I mean, I'm getting a lot of protein in my diet, but I haven't had much time to work, and I'm not able to fuck Andrew nearly as much as he'd like. I mean, between fucking Andrew and Jason, and occasionally Kenny – although he's more versatile than my bottom-boys – I hardly have time for anything else, and am spent after about orgasm number three. I'm 38, for god's sake. We need to establish some new alliances. That's what N'Touch Saturday will be about. And exhibitionism, and maybe a little bit of shame...

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Guernville is an absolute blast. I have a favorite campground there, right across from a state park that has access to the river. The boys spend the next day skinny-dipping in the river, much to the displeasure of one ranger who ambles by. They dutifully put on their clothes, but once he's out of range, they're out of shorts. We have dinner at a place called the "Triple R" on 4^th street, the gayest place I've ever been in my life. It's a hotel and restaurant that Gary suggested, and, given that it's still warm, the pool area is full of gay men. I mean FULL of gay men. I've been here once before, I recall. It's sort of the center of the leather crowd in Guernville, and that's what we find, leather daddies and their boys. Kenny and Jason's eyes look like saucers as we walk through the courtyard, because many of these men are naked – and on leashes. Andrew begins to giggle. I think he wants to join them.

We go into the restaurant on the left, and wait for the host or hostess, and Jason starts to giggle. I give him a quizzical look. He points to the room, and whispers, "they're all women."

He's right. All the servers (a neuter term) are women, and the person who seats us is a women. What are these people thinking? Don't they know their demographic? Is there a dearth of cute boys in this town? I don't think so.

We're taken to a table with a view of the pool of naked men. Kenny and Andrew instantly take the seats overlooking the pool, leaving Jason and me looking into the restaurant. Jason cuffs Kenny, and Kenny starts to laugh. We order from a rather perky and attractive waitress, and wait for our meals, which eventually come to us via a very trim and attractive Hispanic guy that Andrew follows with his eyes throughout the meal. Half-way through the meal I start to giggle watching Andrew watching this guy, and then Kenny starts to giggle watching me watching Andrew watching this guy. He reaches over, between Andrews legs, and then breaks up completely. "Yeah, it's hard," he says, not in a whisper, and Andrew goes crimson. I start to laugh, and Jason follows. I think this boy may have a perpetual hard-on.

After dinner, we decide to go dancing, and I ask Jason if he knows where he'd like to go. He has no idea. He's never been here before. But I have, and I know most of the venues. I suggest Fife's and everyone agrees, which is good, because I've already called Mark Thurston, owner of Fife's and a friend of mine, and made a proposal, which he has agreed to in a bout of laughter. "Bring `em over," he said. And that's what I do.

We file into the bar, and I buy the boys a round of drinks. Fife's is a little differently laid out that N'Touch. The dance hall is in the back, and rather than cages, they have a stage. The dance hall is crawling with men, and probably ten women. Where the hell did they come from? I giggle to myself.

"You know they guy who served you the drinks? He's a friend of mine."

Andrew gets it instantly. "Should we strip now?"

"Yup. There's the stage. Go for it," And `go for it' they do stripping by the side of the bar, taking the stage, and dancing wildly, naked, to another set of retro music: Supertramp, London Suede, Paul Young, Cass Elliot, The Police, Matchbox 20, Mew. The crowd is wide-eyed, and then wild, applauding after each song. They dance for three hours, until they can't dance anymore. They're spent, and smiling.

"This what you wanted," I ask Jason?

"Umm...it's not what I thought I wanted, but it was so much fun." He's giddy. "Yes, it's what I wanted."

I hug him, give the boys their clothes, and we head back to the campground at around 1:30am, trying not to make too much noise as we set up the van. I pop the top for sleeping, and Kenny clears the bed downstairs, folding it out. Andrew goes to the bathroom to pee and brush his teeth. "Okay, Jason and I are on top, and you and Andrew are on the bottom, I say to Kenny."

Kenny gives me a long, almost plaintive look.

"Umm...yes...you can fuck him."

Kenny beams. Kenny is overjoyed. Kenny is almost beside himself with joy.

Andrew comes back from the bathroom, and Kenny throws himself at him, hugs him. "Do you want me to fuck you?"

Andrew's eyes light up, and then he looks at me. I nod, and he is instantly hard. He gives Kenny one of the longest, most sensuous kisses I think I've ever seen, and they go at it like rabbits. They cannot keep their hands off each other. And, to be fair, neither can Jason and me. I sure hope our neighboring campers are sound sleepers, because the Westfalia, a relatively light vehicle, is rocking back and forth to the carnal appetites of the four of us. I love Kenny and Andrew, but I adore Jason. He is so sweet, and his body is made just for me; it's just the right size, and so soft. I've never been able to get enough of him. His ass has mostly healed from his punishments, so I've been able to squeeze those scrumptious bubble cheeks at will. He is just adorable.

We spend the next two days either in the river (I don't swim, but Jason does) or in the upper bunk of the van. At night, we go to dance clubs, although I don't make the boys get naked, a fact which disappoints Andrew, I think. We do one hell of a lot of dancing this weekend. But there's just something about fucking under the stars, essentially out in the open. The Westfalia is not particularly private. Our surrounding campers know that this van contains four men. And I'm sure they've heard us, moaning and rocking. They know what's going on. They've got to know. But, every morning we get a smile from them all. Guernville is a very hospitable place – to fags.

On Sunday afternoon, we make our way back to San Jose, stopping for dinner in San Francisco, Geary, Park Hong Kong, my favorite Chinese restaurant in this world. We have Salt and Pepper Crab, Fish, Stir-Fried Squid, Sharks-Fin Soup, and Stir-Fried Chicken with X.O. Sauce. Just delicious. Stuffed, we bundle ourselves back in the camper, and head home, Kenny and Andrew chatting in the back seat, and Jason asleep on the lower bed, snoring softly. We arrive at around midnight, and Kenny quietly opens the back door of the Westfalia, lifts Jason out, and carries him to our bed. He never wakes up, but grips Kenny around the neck anyway. He's just adorable.

We all strip, and pile into the bed. Jason is on one end, and I spoon up behind him, clutching him, followed by Kenny, followed by Andrew. Once again, idyllic.

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