Date: Tue, 13 Aug 2002 13:15:45 +0800
From: Pytor R
Subject: Spanking Machine

WARNING:

This story contains descriptions of sexual acts between boys. If you don't
want to read about them, you may leave right now.

The story is pure fiction, and any similarity to actual persons or
incidents is purely coincidental. It is copyrighted, so do not distribute
it to any newsgroups and/or web sites.

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Spanking Machine, by Pytor R.

I was over twelve years old, and I had never been spanked in my life. My
parents didn't believe in spanking, and I guess I should have been happy
for that, because I got myself into trouble every now and then for things
that for other boys caused the board of education to be forcefully applied
to their seat of learning. My school had the same rule, teachers were not
allowed to spank students. But in a funny sort of way, I felt like I was
missing something, that my experiences in life were not complete. So I
started thinking about how that could be remedied.

There seemed to be no way in the world I could get anyone to spank me
without making a fool of myself. I had done some horsing around with two
other boys, and a few times we had even taken turns tying one another up
and having "torture" sessions where the prisoner got stripped and tickled
half to death. Of course the naked prisoner and the rest of us would get
horny, so the prisoner usually got jacked off and had to give blow jobs.
Since we all took turns at being the prisoner, it seemed fair. But no one
ever suggested that the prisoner's ass should be paddled or otherwise
messed with, and I was afraid to bring up the idea. Even though we were
into having sex play, none of my friends were close enough that I really
trusted them with my fantasy.

One time during a discussion about why I was being grounded for something I
had done instead of getting spanked, my dad mentioned something about a
"spanking machine" that his father remembered being in a room behind the
school principal's office, comparing it to medieval torture devices. I
didn't say much about it at the time, but later on I got on the Internet
and ran a search. After going through countless exercise gadgets that
simulated paddling a canoe, I found one site that referred to such
punishment devices as "urban legends" and said that they had never actually
existed. It showed a bunch of fanciful drawing of things that had been
thought about but supposedly never built. But I kept looking and finally
found a site from a museum that said they actually had one. So they were
real, or at least had been at one time. But no picture of that one.

We lived perhaps half a mile from a rundown commercial and light industrial
district where there were several vacant, boarded up buildings. Since I
like to try to actually make some of the gadgets my imagination comes up
with, I prowled around that area a fair bit seeing what I could see and
finding what I could find, never telling my parents exactly where I had
been. They trusted me to be responsible for myself, and it was summer, so I
had a fair amount of freedom as long as I kept my grades up during the
school terms, stayed out of trouble, and showed up for meals and bedtime.
One afternoon while walking along a back alley in that area I noticed a
fairly narrow blind passageway between a couple of buildings, and decided
to investigate.

First I sauntered around the block and checked things out. It was actually
one building with a solid brick wall dividing it in two. One side had a
junky looking auto repair shop in it that was so noisy that no one would
hear me if I got into the other side, and that other side was very
thoroughly boarded up with thick plywood, front and back. Going back to the
passageway, I squeezed past some junk and found what must have been some
kind of an exhaust or drain at one time in the side of the vacant building.
It was down near the ground, and it looked big enough for me to get my
slender body through, but too small for a grown man to fit. The opening had
a set of bars on the inside, but I reached through and found out that they
could be easily pushed aside. I could see light inside, so I crawled
through very carefully and looked around. I was in a rather dark hallway
that led towards the front, where the windows were not boarded up all the
way to the top. The light was coming from those windows, but there was no
other way in or out, not even a skylight.

I was a little bit scared, because I knew I was doing something illegal,
but I gave the place a good looking over anyway. It must have been some
kind of a woodworking shop at one time, and there were lots of useful
things laying around, even a few hand tools, and I did a mental inventory.
I seemed to have found a place where I could try to make my fantasy into
reality and I started visualizing what my idea of a one boy, self operated
spanking machine might look like. After a while I crawled back out through
that opening, carefully pulling the bars back in front of it. I hid behind
the pile of junk and looked around to make sure nobody was watching, and
then sauntered out of there as if I owned the place. I walked home slowly,
my mind in a whirl thinking about the best way to put my machine together
and get my uninitiated ass paddled. Little did I know how successful I
would be.

At my next opportunity I went back, first walking up and down the entire
length of that alley to make sure I was alone. Then I darted into the
passageway and was inside my "spanking room" in a matter of seconds. I
found a sturdy table that was just big enough for me to lay down on with my
feet on the floor and my head hanging over the other end, and a dirty old
furniture pad that I folded in fourths to make the table more comfortable.
Next time I brought an old towel to put over the pad. A few weeks earlier I
had found several leather dog collars in the trash, and I had brought them
along. I found that I could fasten my ankles to the legs on that table, and
then lie down on my belly, reach over the other end, and fasten one wrist
as well. I couldn't fasten my other wrist and then get loose again, anyway
I needed one arm free to operate my "spanker."

There were wooden posts here and there that ran clear up to the unfinished
ceiling, I never did figure out what they had originally been for. I found
two boards several feet long and used the hand tools laying around to
fasten them together with screws into a horizontal vee shape. Then I
fastened them to one of the posts with a hinge on each leg of the vee so
that they made sort of a swinging gate, with the point of the vee just
where my ass was when I bent myself over the table. I put a smooth flat
piece of wood at the vee, this would be what would actually hit my butt. An
old screen door spring served to pull the spanker back away from my ass,
and I fastened a length of rope to it to pull on with my free hand. After
stripping naked and fastening myself to the table, I found I could deliver
myself a mild whack on the ass by pulling sharply on the rope. It was OK,
but not really what I wanted.

Before my next visit I had figured out that it might be better let the
spring slap the spanker against my ass. So I moved the spring to the "ass"
side of the vee, and added a second spring for good measure. Then I rigged
the rope with a couple of pulleys to pull the spanker back for the coming
whack. This worked better, and I found a combination of springs and pull
back distance that would sting my naked butt pretty good. I added a third
spring on the far side so that the spanker would bounce back a few inches
from my butt rather than stay tight against it. I would get in position,
pull on the rope, take a deep breath, and then turn loose. Sometimes it was
all I could do to keep from yelping, but I found that a series of whacks
like that, a little judicious rubbing against that towel, and my wild
imagination were all I needed to go off without even touching my pecker.
That towel got taken home and washed after every session.

A further refinement was a foot operated trigger mechanism to release the
pull rope, that way I could pretend my other arm was tied up, and that I
was completely helpless when I got whacked. I had other thoughts about some
kind of a mechanism that would give multiple whacks with one setting, but
as it turned out I never needed to figure that out.

I had added a blindfold to my fantasy, and I was laying there one afternoon
naked and unable to see anything, both legs and one wrist fastened to the
table legs. I was happily whacking myself on the ass when I suddenly felt a
pair of hands grab my free wrist, and one of the remaining dog collars
quickly fastened it tightly to the table leg. The other wrist wasn't
fastened that tight, and without thinking I pulled it loose. My visitor saw
what I had done, grabbed that wrist, and fastened it so that I couldn't get
it loose again. I went from in charge of my own proceedings to totally
helpless in a matter of seconds.

I started to scream, and then realized that if anybody could even hear me
with that damned air compressor going next door, they would never figure
out where the scream was coming from. So I caught my breath and waited to
see what would happen next.

I heard a fairly young boy's voice ask "Are you having fun? Can I have fun
too, can I help you have even more fun?"

The first thing I wanted to know was "Are you going to hurt me?"

He assured me "I don't plan to do anything that will hurt you any more than
what I just watched you doing to yourself."

"Then why did you tie my wrists up?"

"Because it looked to me like you really wanted to be tied up."

"Just what are you going to do to me then?"

"I'm thinking about that. But you must have wanted spanked pretty bad to go
to all the trouble to build a gadget like this and then tie yourself to
that table so you could do it to yourself."

I couldn't think of any way of denying his reasoning. He had me where he
wanted me, but the funny thing was that, to be completely honest, he also
had me where I wanted me.

I sensed him moving around and then I heard the little squeak that the
hinges on the spanker made. I had just tensed myself for the blow when the
spanker hit me with more force than I liked, and I let out a yelp. "That
was too hard, dammit!"

"Oops," he giggled, "I guess I didn't know how far I should have pulled
that thing back. I'll just tie it back out of the way for now so it won't
hit you again."

The next thing I felt was my ribs getting ticked, and I damn near levitated
that table off the floor with my attempts at kicking and thrashing around.
But the table was heavy, and he quit tickling when he saw my wild reaction.
Then he played with my ass and tickled the back of my scrotum while I laid
there squirming and getting hornier than hell.

"Do you want me to spank you some more?" he finally asked.

I tried to sound disinterested. "Well, if you really want to, I guess a
little more might be OK."

"We don't have to use your gadget," he observed. "I've got my hand, and
there's your belt. Do you want me to use them on you rather than that
wooden thing?"

Long before I built this machine I had fantasized many times about a real
person spanking my bare ass. I even had an occasional wet dream where my
getting spanked was involved. Now, without any planning on my part, I was
being offered that very thing. In fact, it looked like an offer I couldn't
refuse. I could barely keep from sounding too eager as I said "Yeah, well,
I guess. But use your hand first."

There was a pause, and I was pretty sure I heard the rustling sound of
clothes coming off. I figured that he had gotten naked, although I didn't
figure out why right away. He patted and rubbed my butt a few more times,
and then started spanking me fairly easy. I soon urged him to really give
it to me, and he did. My buns started stinging pretty bad, and when I had
gotten all I wanted right then I asked him to stop for now and use the belt
on me later. His offer to take a belt to my behind was an opportunity that
I might never have again, and I didn't want to let it get away.  Apparently
he was thinking the same thing about a different opportunity.

There were several two foot square wooden pallets about four inches thick
laying around, I had stacked them up once to climb up on to check out the
ceiling beams. I was pretty sure I recognized the sound of one of them
being dragged, and then it made a bang as it hit the floor right under my
head.

"What's that?" I asked.

"For me to stand on."

"Why?"

"Because I'm not tall enough."

What he wasn't tall enough for became clear in a few seconds when I got a
strong whiff of boy smell and realized he was standing next to my face. And
then I felt what had to be the end of his dick brushing against my lips.

"Do you want to suck me?" he asked.

"No way! No fair!" I exclaimed. "You said you weren't going to do anything
that I wasn't doing to myself!"

"No I didn't. I said I wasn't going to hurt you any more than what you were
doing to yourself. But if you don't want to do any more things I'll put my
clothes back on and go away. I'll untie your wrist before I go, though."

So I had been right when I thought I heard him take his clothes off, and he
was, in fact, standing by my face naked. But now he was offering to untie
me and put an end to the party, which I certainly didn't want to happen.
I'd sucked a couple of boy cocks before, so I figured one more wouldn't
hurt, especially when I could look forward to getting to find out what a
leather belt would feel like on my bare ass. I took a deep breath and said
"OK, stay here, I'll suck you."

"Are you sure you really want to?"

I knew I had to say yes if I wanted to keep the party going, so I did.

I opened my mouth and he poked his fair sized pecker in. The difference
between his and the previous cocks I'd sucked was that his needed a bath,
and bad. I tried to ignore the taste as I went to work with my tongue and
lips. As he fucked my mouth he giggled again, and by this time I was sure
he must be at least two years younger than me, although his cock seemed
somewhat large for someone that young. The little squirt didn't have me
eating out of his hand, but he sure had me eating him.

I didn't get to bring him to orgasm as he pulled his pecker out of my mouth
after a couple of minutes. Then he asked me if I still wanted to feel the
belt.

"Yeah," I said, "I'll never find out any younger."

He moved around behind me, patted my naked butt with his hand a couple of
times, and then laid a tentative lick across it. I winced, the belt was
narrow and stung more intensely.

He waited for me to comment, and I said "OK, have at it, but build up
gradually, don't give me all you got on the next smack."

So he started in, and the harder he hit the hornier I got. But it soon got
to stinging real bad and I finally had to ask him to quit. He did, and I
heard my belt buckle clink on the floor over by where I had left my
clothes.

I heard him drag another pallet to the end of the table that supported
behind my naked butt. He got up on it, and started gently massaging my
buns, one with each hand. It helped the stinging a little bit, and I was
grateful. I didn't even really notice that while he was rubbing he was also
pulling my cheeks apart a little more each time. But I sure noticed it when
I felt a glob of spit land on my defenseless hole and he started working
his finger up inside me. I squirmed from the new and strange feeling, and
although I had never been fucked before, it sure looked like I was going to
get it now.

"Do you know what I'm getting ready to do to you?" he giggled.

"I think I do."

"Well, I'll stop if you tell me to. I've heard about this, but I've never
done it before. I'll take it easy on you."

So once again he gave me the chance to blow the whistle on the party if I
wanted to. But I didn't want to, not at all, so I didn't make any more
comments, I just waited. At least this time he didn't make me say twice
that I really wanted it.  And as he kept working into my hole with his
fingers, I got hornier and hornier, and I had to admit to myself that I
really did want fucked.

After he was satisfied that I was stretched out big enough, he said "Now
just relax. My pecker ain't all that big, and it shouldn't hurt you much if
at all."

I did my best to relax my butt muscles, exhaled deeply, and in one thrust
of his boner my asshole had lost its virginity. He was right, the little
bit of discomfort only lasted a few seconds. To tell the honest truth, once
I got used to it, it was one of the most fantastic sensations I had ever
experienced. He pushed a little more, and when he got in all the way and
started pumping I thought I'd somehow gotten to heaven without dying. He
hadn't been at me for more than three or four minutes when I felt him push
against me and spasm several times. I didn't feel anything squirt up inside
me, so he apparently wasn't old enough to cum. But I was incredibly horny
by now, and I found myself desperately wanting to go off.

"Don't stop!" I begged. "Keep pumping, help me get off!" He obliged with
vigor, I climaxed like a brass band on parade, and the towel under me
needed another trip to the washing machine.

After a bit, when we had both gotten down off our peaks, he asked "Are you
mad at me?"

I thought a minute and said "No, not really. You could have done a lot
worse things to me. But I would like to know how you found this place."

"I know this neighborhood like the back of my hand. I knew you didn't live
around here, so when I kept seeing you I just followed you. If you want to
keep coming here, I won't rat on you."

"But you will try to catch me again like you did today, won't you?"

He just giggled again, that beguiling and musical giggle that boys start
losing as their voices deepen through puberty.

I heard the sound of clothes going back on, and then he kissed me on the
lips, ran his fingers through my hair and whispered "Bye" in my ear. I felt
him unfasten the dog collar on one of my hands, and the second it came
loose I pulled my hand free and grabbed at the blindfold. But by the time I
got the blindfold off, he was gone.

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The next several days I played cat and mouse with my unknown "friend." I
would walk up and down the alley, and then hide near one end and watch for
anybody to go into that passageway. Not a sign of him. Then I tried going
into the spanking room and waiting. All I got for my efforts were a few
self supplied hand jobs as I remembered what had happened in there. And
several wasted hours. I thought some more about it, and decided that maybe
some sound effects might be required to lure him out of hiding. Like the
sound of an ass being spanked with a board. I experimented and found that a
firm vinyl covered pillow fastened to the table produced appropriate sounds
when the spanker whacked it. I hid the pillow in case he came snooping, and
made my plans for the next day.

When I came back the next forenoon I brought several pieces of rope with
me, as well as a couple more towels, a washcloth and a bar of soap. I had
already found a bucket in the spanking room, and a spigot that still
provided water. I used one of the ropes to extend the pull rope on the
spanker back into that dark hallway, and tied some of the others around a
couple of those posts and over the ceiling beams. I tied the vinyl pillow
back on the spanking table and took up my position in the dark hallway, on
the back side of the entry opening. After waiting what I thought was an
appropriate amount of time for someone to get naked and strap himself to
the table, I pulled the spanker rope back and let it go. It make a very
satisfactory smacking noise, and I repeated the operation at the rate I
remembered doing it when my naked ass was the target. After not too long a
time, I was rewarded by the sight of a couple of hands reaching through the
opening, followed by a head of long blond hair. I waited until all but his
legs were inside, and then plopped myself down astride his waist. He let
out a startled "Uhhh," but didn't yell or scream.

My eyed had become dark adapted by then, and I was sure I could see much
better than him. I took advantage of that, grabbed his wrists, pulled them
together above his head, and tied them with one of my ropes. Then I wrapped
my wide blindfold around his eyes, pulled him all the way inside the
hallway, and rolled him, kicking and squirming, over on his back. He tried
to pull the blindfold off with his tied up hands, but I was prepared for
that and used another rope around his waist to immobilize his hands in
front of him. For a kid who had just been sat on and trussed up, he calmed
down pretty quick and lay there without protesting. It was almost as though
he had been expecting something like this to happen, but he had to at least
pretend to put up some resistance. I asked him "Do you want me to tie your
legs and drag you around like a sack of flour, or will you walk?"

"I'll walk," he said agreeably, "but you'll have to guide me with this
blindfold over my eyes." His tone of voice conveyed more curiosity and
anticipation than anything else. I helped him to his feet, took him by the
shoulders, and guided him to the place between a couple of posts that I had
selected for the activities of the day. I tied one end of a rope I had
previously looped over a ceiling beam to his wrists, untied the rope around
his waist, and then pulled the other end of the ceiling rope until his arms
were over his head. Not too tight, just enough to keep him in place.

Next I worked his T shirt up his chest and over his head, being careful not
to dislodge the blindfold. I got it up his arms as far as it could go with
his wrists tied together, and than I tied two more ropes to him, one to
each of his forearms just below his T shirt. The other end of these ropes
were looped around the posts on either side of him, and I took up the
slack, untied the ceiling rope and his wrists, and slipped his T shirt the
rest of the way off. With his wrists no longer tied together, I had to take
up a lot slack again on the ropes tying his wrists to the posts, but he
accepted these maneuvers without trying to escape, and never said a
word. Now he was standing naked from the waist up between the two posts
with his arms stretched out to each side and a little above him. Just to be
on the safe side, I tied an extra rope to each of his wrists and looped it
over the ceiling beam. He wasn't going nowhere, for sure.

I had lots of time, my dad was out of town and my mom would be working late
that evening, so I sat down on the spanking table and looked him over. I
got up and felt of his crotch, he squirmed a little bit, but he was hard as
a rock in anticipation of the coming events. I smiled to myself thinking
about what I had planned, and took off my own shirt. My next move was one I
was sure he hadn't anticipated, when I carried that bucket of water over by
him and dipped a washcloth in it. I wanted his body clean for what I had in
mind, and he was pretty grubby.

I soaped up his armpits and he squirmed and giggled. Then I carefully
washed his upper body all over and toweled him off. He had to feel like a
little baby being given a bath, and I was really enjoying every minute of
it. But I hadn't thought that I wouldn't be able to wash his face properly
with that blindfold over his eyes, so I stopped to think about that. He
must have read my mind, because he said "You know, this blindfold is kinda
stupid. I have been watching you for days, and I know who you are, David."

My heart skipped a beat at the mention of my name, and I asked him "Do I
know you?"

"I'm pretty sure you do," he replied.

Shit, my secret fantasy was no longer a secret. Someone who knew who I was
also knew that I liked to be spanked, and even fucked. And that long blond
hair had been teasing my memory since I first saw it. I reached up and took
off the blindfold, more than a little bit concerned about who I would
find. I instantly recognized Doug, a boy just one year behind me in school,
although he was several inches shorter than me.

He saw the worry on my face and said "Hey! It's cool! I came here on my
own, and I don't figure you are going to do any more to me than what I did
to you. And I don't plan on telling nobody!"

I considered that for a minute, and then decided that whatever might or
might not happen afterward, I was going to make the most of the present.
Doug saw a grin replace the worried frown on my face, and he smiled as I
told him to close his eyes so I didn't get soap in them while I finished
scrubbing his face and neck. After I had wiped the soap off his face and
toweled it dry. he opened his eyes and looked at me, waiting to see what
was coming next.

What was coming next was his pants down and off. And while I was at it I
relieved him of his shoes and socks. That left him in nothing but his
briefs, which were as grubby as he was. His boner was tenting out in front
something fierce, begging to be freed, but I made him wait and watch me
while I got out of my own pants and footgear. He had to know he was going
to lose his underwear any minute now, so I teasingly asked him if he was
all ready to be stripped naked. Without any hesitation, he said "Sure."

I made a production out of working his briefs down an inch at a time until
the front was hung on his boner and his butt was bare. I walked around him
and admired my handiwork.

"Well," he said impatiently, "I told you I was ready."

"Say please," I answered.

"Please."

"Please what?" I retorted.

He figured out what I wanted to hear. "Please finish taking off my
underwear and make me all naked!"

So I pulled the front of his briefs away from his belly until his boner
popped out, and then slipped them clear down to his ankles. He lifted one
foot out, and then, with an impish grin, used his other foot to flip them
several feet away.

I spent perhaps ten minutes just walking slowly around him, stopping to
look him over thoroughly from every angle. I savored the deliciously erotic
sight of this slender, well proportioned boy standing in front of me
completely naked, his arms outstretched and tied. His erection had gone
down while I was sightseeing his body, and once I pulled his foreskin back
over the end of his soft pecker he displayed the perfectly formed and
symmetrical penis and scrotum that you would see on a Greek statue. He was
only tied up tight enough to keep him from getting away, so he could move
around a fair amount, especially his legs. But he was absolutely naked, and
I was really enjoying seeing and handling that nakedness. As I went back to
washing him, I rubbed his soapy dick until he got real hard again. His
foreskin was once again stretched tight from his hard on, so I didn't even
have to push it back to make sure he was good and clean. I figured he was
just about to grow a crop of hair like mine, there were a few here and
there already, but so blond you had to look carefully to see them.

Then I moved around behind him and told him to spread his legs apart. He
hesitated for a bit, and then apparently decided that refusing wasn't going
to help him any. So he spraddled way out, and his balls swung loose in a
delightful way. I washed his scrotum some more and then his legs, and then
took the soap to his butthole with vigor. When I wrapped the soapy
washcloth around my finger and poked it a little way into him he let out
another "Uhh!" like he did when I first jumped on him in the hallway. But
he didn't complain, guess he figured if he did I might just poke it in
further.

While I toweled him off, he mentioned the same thing I had thought earlier.
"You know, I can't ever remember being bathed like that by someone else,
just like I was a baby. But it was fun, just standing here and letting you
do it to me. I like the feel of your hands all over me."

"I had a ball too," I responded, and we both snickered at my unintended
pun. Then I surprised the hell out of him by getting down on my knees in
front of him, licking his dick and his scrotum, and then sucking on him a
little bit.

"Wow!" he exclaimed, "I figured that would be my job!"

"It will be, and soon." I assured him. "That was a demonstration of proper
techniques, I hope you were paying attention."

He grinned broadly for a while, as if he were thinking about something.
Apparently making up his mind, he started humming a tune. He began to move
to his own music, first from side to side while his balls swung back and
forth between his outstretched legs, and then from front to back while his
stiff pecker bounced up and down. He was really good as he improvised a
dance routine to suit the occasion, and I just stood there with my mouth
agape at his gyrations.

"My mom and dad were professional dancers," he explained, "and dancing is
just in my blood, I guess."

Then he put his feet together, bent over as much as he could the way he was
tied, and stuck his ass back as far as it would go. "Spank me!" he ordered.

When I just stood there stunned, he reminded me "I did it for you!"

I thought about it for a minute and realized he was right. But before I
complied, I wanted desperately to get out of my own underwear. He had been
naked while he spanked me, and I wanted to be naked when I spanked him. I
moved right square in front of him, and he watched with considerable
interest as I slid my briefs down and my raging hard on popped out,
surmounted by a small patch of dark hair. He had played with my scrotum a
few days ago, so that was nothing new for him to see.

Then he gave his ass a few more wiggles and said "Now spank me."

Moving beside him, I gave him a pretty fair whack with the flat of my
hand. He caught his breath, straightened up, and started his dance routine
again, humming as he went. He would spread his legs apart so his balls were
free, swing from side to side and then from front to back, moving his feet
around at the same time. Then he would pull his legs together again and
stick his butt out behind him. I soon figured out that this pose meant I
was to swat his ass again, and we must have repeated this process six or
eight times.

Then, while he was dancing, he said "Get your belt."

I was so horny and excited by then that I didn't even stop to think, I just
grabbed my pants and pulled my belt loose.

The next time he struck his ass back pose, he grinned at me and said "The
belt."

I laid a good one across his naked butt, and he let out a little yelp. But
he went right back to humming and dancing, and then stopped again with his
butt sticking out behind him.

"Harder!" he commanded.

I laid into him pretty good, and he jumped this time, let out a squeal, and
danced some more. But in short order he was back standing in his "hit me"
pose, and he ordered "One more time, and give it all you got!"

I took a deep breath, wound up and really let him have it. He let out a
suppressed scream, stood bolt upright and rigid for a few seconds, and then
gave a long moan as he slowly collapsed until he was actually hanging from
the ropes.

I panicked, ran around in front of him and grabbed him under his arms,
trying to lift him to his feet. I started crying, thinking I had hurt him
really bad.

When he realized how upset I was, he stood back up and said "Hey! Relax!
That was just part of the dance, like the dying swan thing!"

I guess I should have been angry at him for scaring me so bad, but I was so
relieved that he was all right that I didn't even think about being mad. I
just backed away until I could see that he was smiling, and then said
"Damn! You are a really great dancer. Did you make all that up just now?"

He explained that a lot of dancing is just combining basic steps and moves,
and that he had simply put those steps and moves together as he felt suited
this occasion. He said that the dying swan bit popped into his head after
the first lick with the belt. I told him I was really impressed.

But, dancing aside, I was still hornier than hell, so after I was sure that
he was able to be touched on his behind, I got in back of him and gently
laid my dick between his cheeks. He had a red streak across his butt from
that last lick with the belt, and it was still pretty warm, so I just kind
of massaged him lightly with my front while I reached around and played
with his dick. He had gotten soft after that belting, but he soon got hard
again. I moved around in front of him, got down on my knees, and worked on
him a little more with my tongue and lips. If nothing else, I wanted him to
know exactly what was expected of him and how to go about it.

Then I had an idea. I asked him how many times in a row he could go off,
and he said at least three or four. I wanted him to stay hard and horny for
the rest of the session, not go off once and then go soft. I knew I was
good for several climaxes too, so I got behind him again and started
rubbing my cock up and down between his cheeks while I reached around and
jacked him off. He really got into this dance, I guess his butt wasn't
burning so bad any more. We got a rhythm going between his hips going back
and forth and my thrusting while I jacked him, and in just a couple
minutes, almost at the same time, we both went off. He pumped a few
dribbles on my hand, his first, he told me later. But I smeared up his
backside thoroughly, and had another cleaning up job to do. He was getting
used to this by now, and grinned unashamedly while I washed his behind and
my front.

Next I got the furniture pad, folded it up into a pillow, and put it on the
floor in front of him. I made a little more slack in the ropes that were
still tied to his wrists, and told him to go down on his knees. He complied
willingly and with no hesitation, knowing what was next on the agenda. So
when I put my pecker in front of his face, he already had his mouth open
and was licking his lips. I must have taught him well, because he started
right in with his tongue on my cock, licked my balls, and then sucked me
right into him. Since I had climaxed just a few minutes earlier, I wasn't
about to go off right away, but he sure tried his best to make me. I ran my
fingers through his silky blonde hair and murmured my approval as he worked
away until I finally pulled out of him and stepped back.

I decided it was now time to get him set up for the grand finale. I felt of
his butt some more, asked him if it would hurt too much to sit down, and he
said that he though it wouldn't. I had him get up on his feet, and then put
the folded up pad behind him to sit on. I had to give him more slack in the
ropes so he could sit down, and then I took him by the ankles and pulled
him and the pad further out from between the posts until he was half
reclining. I untied the top ropes from his wrists and slipped the other
ones down the posts until he could lie all the way flat on his back with
the pillow cushioning his butt, as well as raising it up it the air quite
nicely. He squirmed around a little until he was fairly comfortable while I
waited at his feet and drank in more of his breathtaking nakedness. Then he
pulled his legs up over his shoulders and gave me another one of his impish
grins.

But I wasn't quite ready for that yet, I wanted to experience his tongue
and lips some more. I playfully chided him to be patient and not try to
hurry things, and he giggled as he stretched out flat again with his boner
sticking straight up. I got astride him and eased my butt down on his
crotch, wiggling my ass around, and he reacted by thrusting up against me.
I gradually worked my way up until I was straddling his chest on my knees.
I moved my oozing penis up to his face as I leaned forward, and he went to
work on it again. Doug was a quick learner, he licked and sucked until I
had to back away before I went off. I stood up by his feet again.

He looked up at me with a smirk on his face. "Hey," he said, "get a couple
of your ropes and tie one to each of my ankles. Then tie the other ends to
the posts."

I visualized how that would work, and it turned me on even more, if that
was possible. I got the ropes, and tied one around each of his ankles. He
pulled his legs back to his shoulders, and I tied the other ends of the
ropes to the posts.

"Now," he giggled, "I'm even more naked and exposed than you were that
first time."

Since he had never even seen my pecker the first time he fucked me, and
every part of his maleness was now on full display between his pulled up
and spread apart legs, I had to agree with him. I couldn't resist the
opportunity to jack him off a bit while I licked his balls and even tried a
couple of tongue passes at his butthole.

As I knelt next to his butt and eyed his now well scrubbed hole, it looked
a bit small when I compared it to my rigid cock. So I dribbled a gob of
spit on his hole and went to work in it, first with one finger, then two,
and finally three. He had his eyes closed and looked as though he were
really enjoying having his butthole slowly but surely stretched for the
main event. And then I was ready to do what had been constantly on my mind
since I had stripped him naked. He grinned at me as I got into position
over his upturned butt.

Say "Please," I instructed him.

He picked right up on what I wanted to hear. "Please stick your hard pecker
in my hole and fuck me for the first time in my life!"

I hadn't really thought about it, but now I realized that I was about to
get a virgin ass. I put the end of my boner against his hole and paused. He
was starting to breathe a little faster in anticipation, and I playfully
teased him by making him wait. He was apparently wanting it real bad by
now, and he started begging me to get on with it, knowing full well how
much I loved hearing him beg to get fucked. So I gently started pushing my
pecker into his hole as he sighed deeply. Either he was bigger than I had
guessed, or I had done an extra good job of getting him ready, because it
just slipped right in with hardly any force on my part. He let out a very
soft moan when I got it in all the way. I wasn't sure whether it was pain,
pleasure, or both, but a couple of years later I learned that I had
probably put a little pressure on his prostate.

I didn't want this to end too quick, so I just laid there for a few minutes
without moving much. He would wiggle his penetrated butt around now and
then as though he wanted me to get busy, so pretty soon I started moving in
and out of him. As I began to move faster and with more force, he started
to make happy little puppy dog noises to go with my heavy breathing. We
both were in heaven as I worked up and down on his naked butt. I managed to
hold myself in for maybe five more minutes, pausing for a few seconds
occasionally, and then I erupted inside him as he sighed deeply once more.

I stayed on and in him a while longer, and put my lips to his. He promptly
started in with his tongue again, and we laid there like that for several
minutes, experimenting with every form of kissing we could think of.
Eventually I untied his ankles, and then regretfully eased myself out of
him as we broke off the kissing session.

I stood up and admired his grinning beautiful tied up nakedness one last
time, and then asked him what he was going to do when I untied him. He said
he was having the time of his life and wasn't about to leave as long as I
stayed around. So I untied his wrists and he sat up and stretched, since he
had been tied up for quite a while. I asked him if he wanted to do the
cleaning up this time, and he got a kick out of washing me just like I had
washed him earlier. He sure had been a good sport about the whole thing,
and I felt as though I was falling in love with him.

I sat down beside him, leaned over, and took his cock in my mouth one more
time. In a short while he was hard as a rock, so I rolled on my side with
my head in his lap, looked up at him, and asked "Do you want to give it to
me?"

His answer was a slobbery tongue kiss while he reached down and started
playing with my butthole. I rolled over on my back, pulled my own legs back
to my shoulders, and murmured "Get me ready."

He applied a generous blob of spit to my hole and gently worked a couple of
fingers into me. A few seconds later he slipped his boner in, and I was
enjoying him fucking me again, except this time I was not tied up. He bent
over and kissed me some more, and then spasmed with another orgasm. We were
both in heaven again.

After he pulled out of me we must have lain there naked in each other's
arms for half an hour while we talked. And when he told me that he lived in
a crummy upstairs apartment on the other side of the alley behind the
spanking room building, it dawned on me why I had never caught him watching
me. He was just sitting up there looking down out of the back window. I
cussed myself for never thinking to look up. We finally decided it was time
to get our clothes back on and head home. But he told me that he would be
around the neighborhood openly from now on, and that I could whistle in a
certain way in the alley to get his attention if he was up in the
apartment.

We kissed, but we didn't say good bye. We just grinned and told each other
that we would get together very soon, perhaps even the next day.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

As I look back over the few intervening years, I can't imagine a crazier
beginning for what I am sure will be a lifetime friendship. I hadn't picked
up on the past tense when Doug said his parents "were" professional
dancers.  He broke down and cried as he told me that they had both been
killed in a car wreck almost two years ago now, and I held him in my arms
and kissed away the tears for quite a while as he sobbed. It was the first
time he had been able to talk about it with anybody who really cared about
him.  After his parents' death he had found himself living with the only
relatives he had left, a couple of alcoholics who rarely worked, and who
never had enough money for proper food, decent clothes or even keeping
clean.

I told my mom and dad about my new friend (but NOT about our activities :)
and they said I should invite him over to our house if I wanted to. At
first he didn't want to come because of his grubby clothes, but I talked
him into accepting a set of clothes that I had outgrown, an unrecognizable
generic pair of jeans that didn't quite have holes in the knees, a plain
white T shirt, and clean underwear and socks. His sneakers were the only
thing he had that weren't hopelessly dirty and ragged. We went to our
secret place where he washed himself up, used the brush I had brought on
his hair, put on the clean clothes, and then came to our house for supper.
Cleaned up and with his hair neatly brushed, he was really a nice looking
boy, and my mom especially took to him. I had no siblings, so she felt as
though I had found myself a little brother to help and look after. Doug was
just small for his age, and we found that our birthdays were little more
than a year apart.

I had my own room with some inherited bunk beds, so my "little brother"
began spending more and more time at our house, including overnights. It
turned out that he was a bright and talented kid who did well in school in
spite of his circumstances. His drunken relatives really didn't want him,
so when my dad, after thoroughly talking it over with Doug, went over to
their ratty place with an attorney, some papers, and an offer of a small
amount of money for "expenses," they were only too glad to sign the papers.
When Dad got home, sat down, and told Doug that all had gone well, he
suddenly found himself with a lap full of blond haired boy who wrapped his
arms around Dad's neck and cried tears of relief and happiness. From that
time on, I had a full time little brother, and we were really one big happy
family.

My parents were pretty openminded, so they had no problem with Doug and I
showering together or running around the house in our underwear. One time
Mom even got a full frontal view of Doug naked after a shower. He had
forgotten to take clean underwear into the bathroom and impulsively decided
not to bother with a towel while he made a dash down the hall to our
bedroom. He almost ran into her, and had to stop suddenly right in front of
her. He was so startled that it never occurred to him to try to hide his
privates with his hands. She just smiled at him, moved to the side to make
room for him to get past, and swatted him playfully on his bare behind as
he scooted by, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

When Doug told me about the incident, he started off "Mom saw ... I mean,
your mom saw..." I put my finger against his lips and corrected him: "Our
mom saw ...." His eyes went moist as he hugged me while he told the rest of
the story. A few days later we were someplace with Mom, and she introduced
us to a friend of hers as "my two boys, David and Douglas." I am pretty
sure I was the only one who noticed the tear trickling down Doug's cheek.

My dad was every bit as fond of him, but in his somewhat more reserved way.
He treated us equally, took us together on all the things that boys do with
their dads, and I was not the least bit jealous. Since Dad had light
colored hair and Mom's was dark like mine, Dad would tease and say that
Doug took after his side of the family. Doug loved it. An interesting thing
was that, unlike other brothers, Doug and I never really quarreled. We both
had too much love invested in each other to even think about arguing, we
always looked for and found ways to resolve any differences in peace and
harmony.

Doug and I kept our other activities going, even taking turns using the
ropes on each other now and then while we could both still fit through the
opening to our secret place. The spanking machine, however, was deemed no
longer necessary and was dismantled. We replaced it with a chin up bar and
a situp bench where we could entertain ourselves and each other with naked
gymnastics. We brought a blanket to put over the old furniture pad, and had
many an exiting time on that.

I introduced Doug to my two friends after explaining to him not to say
anything about buttfucking, but we never told them about our secret place.
The four of us had fun and games together at one friend's house several
times, and all of us always wound up naked and spent, but not ever fucked.
The first time we got together, Doug, being the youngest and smallest,
volunteered to be the prisoner, and he really put on an entertaining show
as he was being stripped and jacked off. Another time he brought an audio
tape and did a strip tease dance to the music that left us all panting to
get at him. He was talented as a performer, there was no doubt about that.

Years went by, Doug won a scholarship and is now attending a senior high
school level dance academy, and I am in my first year of engineering
college. We are still in the same general area, so we get to see each other
and indulge in our private pleasures. But we each have had various girl
friends, and I really think that we will both eventually leave the boy sex
play thing behind. Only time will tell. But we still get a good laugh
talking about how we first met, and the crazy things we both did while we
were becoming friends. And we have no regrets.