Date: Thu, 23 Jul 2020 17:28:20 -0400
From: MC VT
Subject: Comeuppance Gay Adult-Youth

Comeuppance
©MCVT2017  February 26, 2020

When you think you have it all, and suddenly you don't.  Life and sex take
surprising turns.

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100% fiction, adult content: Mb, spank, ropes, drugs, humiliation.
====================================================================

"I'll be glad to send you back to your mother.  She's probably pulling her
hair out by now trying to find you."

"Is not.  She's in Zambia with the new guy."

The distinguished designer looked at the boy laying on his model 572, the
fine leather, overstuffed Chesterfield.  Such a popular sofa, and
incredibly durable, profitable.  He'd created this model himself, making
sure that the distinct pattern of button tufting subtly suggested a butt
plug in tender flesh padding.  Classic motif.

The boy reminded him of a reclining nude, one that was recently reclining,
entirely unclothed on his bed that very morning.  Yet this was his
neighbor, Michael.  Pouty, precocious, too-old-for-his age Michael, our
neighborhood mini-terrorist.  Last event he tranquilized an elderly woman's
pedigreed Angora cat and shaved the poor creature's body, then penned
anarchist symbols on the feline's exposed skin.

Alas, explosions were Michael's specialty.  Demolitions.  Statuary in the
area suffered.

Perhaps this boy needed a leveling-out; a personalized comeuppance.
Repairs to my L'Acquaiolo cost several thousand.  Some debts require
repayment in dermis.  "How'd you get here?"  Our area featured larger
estates.

"Bike."  Got a feeling the boy was here to pad his allowance while his
mother was out of town.

"You smell ghastly--need a good scrub."  A hint of gunpowder rose from him,
he'd been at the cherry bombs again.  Probably loading a pipe to launch
another projectile at someone's prize bromeliads.

"Tell Byron to wash me."

Indolent kid, "My personal staff takes weekends off, you know that."  The
skin where my pubes normally grew began to tingle.  "I'll do the honors."

He knew my game, partially; smiled as he passed lifting his eyebrows
slightly.

...

Silently, he let me sponge a rich, patchouli lather, stroking slowly,
admiring his smooth skin.  Sitting chest-deep in the water, he leaned back,
exposing the tip of his dark foreskin above the milky water.  He parted his
knees, looking at my face, half-smiling.  Coy little punk.

"Able to keep your hands off your cock for longer than ten minutes?"  My
hand went to his navel, I worked his small protrusion, then his chest,
feeling his nipples rise to rigidity under my palm.  "Five minutes?"
Half-developed adolescent muscles flinched and rippled under my hand.

"Never timed myself."  He smirked.  Didn't believe for a moment that this
gimcrack-cum-wayward imp went longer than a few seconds without relief, he
was probably overdue.  Grabbing his foreskin, I shoved my finger in
roughly, washed and slid my hand between his legs.  He closed his eyes and
exhaled.

My Eromenos enjoyed this.  Such easy prey, almost too easy to be fun.

Slipped a finger in his rear.  He remained relaxed; must be practicing.  A
second finger; he lifted his knees and opened himself further for me.
Internally, I felt his rectum tighten slightly, he pushed against my
fingers.  Watched his face as I slowly plumbed his hot depths, a few gasps
when I flicked his switch; his hands flew to his short, thickening dick.

"Not yet."

Continuing to play inside him, my fingers explored further.  Slipped a
third finger inside him and he lifted his eyelids by a quarter of an inch
and gave me a quick smile.  "Tease me."

"Excuse me?"  Michael ordered me to pleasure him?  Pulled my wiggling
fingers out and told him to stand.  Shampooed and rinsed and marched him
past my bedroom to my closet, through the closet and into my most private
chamber.

...

Adjusting the dim lights, I took him by the elbow.  "Going to have to earn
your stay."

"Yeah, what's this place?  Game room?"

"Nothing that pedestrian, if you're suggesting video games."  Wrist
restraints in hand, "Face the wall."  Clipping the wide, red leather bands
on his slender wrists, I attached them to the cables by the carabiners.
Within moments, he was secured against the wall, arms stretched wide as the
motor on the cables hummed, pulled the cables tight.

"What are you doing?"

"Teasing you."  I turned on the video camera and secured his ankles.  "Grab
the bars and put your feet on the pegs."  I'm not a completely heartless
man.  Knuckles whitened as his slender fingers grabbed the cold, steel
grips near his fingertips, not quite close enough for a comfortable hold.
He'd relax soon, perhaps.

"My dear Michael, I'm going to tease you to my heart's content."  Opened my
chest of "teasers."  So many to choose from.  I selected an old Irish
tawse.  Deciding on the three-and-three method to begin with, I caressed
the suede strap, a thin, smooth piece of leather split into two lengths
with an ivory handle.  From the seventeenth century, well-used; one
couldn't help but wonder how many acres of skin had been reddened by it.

Under the dramatic lighting of one small spotlight, had to admire the boy's
curves, smooth skin.  "Tell me why you want me to tease you."

"I know you want me to cum, everybody knows you like boy-cum."

The audacity, the indiscretion!  It only fueled my determination.  I let
three resounding slaps of the suede loose on his rear.  It was the ends of
the strap that did the best work on his skin.  Then, I caressed that
tender, heating butt, "Do you like this teasing?"

"Not too bad, Dad's swats are harder."

Unfortunate comparison.  "Really?"

Three harder swats.  "Tell me why you want me to tease you."  Stroking the
inside of his thigh gently.

He waited to answer, finding something I might like hearing.  "When you're
done, it feels better?"

Wasn't going to get any further sophistication than that, so I gave him
three hard swats, leaving him with a numerous shades of vermillion, pinks.

Back to my chest of teasers.  A cane?  South African Yellowwood tree, I
selected a two-foot branch, less than half an inch thick, a little springy,
and it raised a fine welt.  Grabbed a custom butt plug for the boy.  The
plug was a replica of my dick, at three-quarter size.  I always like a good
squeeze in the beginning; proper fit is important.

His head was turned to the side, I put the plug up to his lips, "Spit."
With that little bit of his saliva, I held him open and began with a
screwing motion, pushing it into his nervous hole.  Not so easy, but the
dry twist would make him more sensitive later.  He grunted through several
jerked breaths.

Then, I took a wide stance beside his body.

"What are you going to do?"

"Tease you. Enjoy.  Feel free to cum all you want, I love it."

An evil whoosh parted the air a number of times as I lit into that fine
rounded butt.  He screamed, telling me to stop, I wasn't teasing.  What a
lovely sheen of sweat he produced; a glistening layer of perspiration
covered his back.  He kept yelling and I didn't stop till his bottom was
thoroughly striped, raging red.

That was a very thorough teasing.  "Is that how your Dad spanks you?"

"Stop it.  I'll tell my mom."

"Should I tell her you asked me for a teasing?"

He finally got his breath back to normal, but his knuckles were white and
his feet must have started to ache and cramp.  I ran the tip of my cane
along his arches just to hear him beg me to stop again.  "You like being
teased, don't you?"

Scrambled adolescent brain couldn't focus.  He paused, then, "When do I get
to cum?"

"When you decide you like my teasing.  That's the point of all this
pleasure, pain, whatever you choose to name it."

"It hurts. I don't like anything that burns."

"Consider the warmth you're feeling like warm fuzzies, newborn kittens,
grandmotherly kisses... on an extreme level."  With my hand rubbing lightly
over hot, raised welts, "Passion.  Strong, almost uncontrollable emotions,
oh, the rapture of pain."

Grabbed his hair, pulled his head back and gave him a pop-kiss in his ear,
then licked lacrimal moisture from the corner of his eye.  "Maybe it's my
way to tell you I'm the man of this house.  You don't order me about like
idiot chattel."  I gave him several good swats with my hand to emphasize
that point.  "Tease me," I mocked him with a falsetto voice.

...

After a full five minutes of whimpering, Michael calmed down again.
Something inside me knew he wasn't ready for heavy-duty teasing.  Not yet.
As I unsnapped and unlatched him, he fell back against me, turned and
kissed me.  He was quiet, but looked in my eyes.  "It feels better now that
you stopped."

I could fix that. "My poor poubelle."

Took him to my bed and he lay on his stomach to avoid chaffing his welts.
I brought the ice bag. Mixed a little camphor with a palmful of lube and
rubbed his ice-numbed rear.  That would lengthen his stimulation.  Pulled
his plug out and brought sweet, pale lattes to the bedside.  His was laced
with half a square, and I watched as he relished the hot treat.  This boy
was going to tease himself to oblivion in about ten, maybe fifteen minutes.

Pulling him on my chest, "Tease me."  Placing my palms lightly against the
heat of his rear and rubbed hard.

"Ow.  That burns."

"Oh, my.  Does it?"  I kissed his hair, sending him opposing messages.
"You can tease me now."  Rubbed the tender skin hard again.  He was crying
again, sobbing into my neck.  Parting his legs over my groin, I felt the
sun rise, small tight balls played along my pulsing shaft.  His adolescent
cock was filling despite his groans.

Kept the pain going as I felt him engorge fully against my shaft.  Yes,
these were the golden moments of pain and arousal that would shape Michael
into a fine plaything.  My fingers went to his anus, camphoric lube and
all, and I began rubbing.  He wasn't cooing, but making some strange
undecided sounds -- unsure.

Feeling his arousal, the skin on my cock was so tight I thought it would
rip.  "Tease me.  Tease my shaft with your sweet hole.  Now."  I had a
rounded cheek in each hand, gripping hard.

"That burns.  I can't."

I sensed defiance; not permitted.

...

Time for more opposing messages into a deeper immersive experience.  Heh,
heh.  "Like the leather on your rear, do you?"  I held him close feeling
his lungs expand in rapid jerks as he tried to suppress his fear-induced
gasps. Had to kiss that sweet boy, caress his shoulders, give him as warm a
look as any snake could.

"I'm going to report you.  This isn't teasing, it's punishment."

Ah!  The word I wanted to hear:

"Frail.  Humans are incredibly frail, error-prone, always chasing a moment
of excitement.  Yes, yes, the pleasures of sex usually top their lists.
Errant behaviors happen in their race for bliss.  Errors bring deterrents
-- like running through a maze; a baffling tangle of obstacles to reach the
ecstatic state.  Aye!  So many painful obstacles, humiliations.

"They learn to accept it as part of the process.  Seems they're asking for
punishment, using pain as a self-apology as they lunge forward into the
fires of lust.  I have a feeling you need to learn not only pleasure of the
sex, mmm, but the pleasure of pain that precedes it in that baffle, through
the maze.  Consider me a guide, an instructor and you, a student with a
dual major."

Caught myself.  That was way too complicated for his empty skull, "Learn to
enjoy the pain as an excitement, as arousing.  The sound of the leather
flying toward your skin, the initial contact and the alarm of your nerves.
So immediate, so urgently shooting through your body -- waves of that first
sting blasting through you.  The coming warmth....

"You're crazy, I'm leaving."

Grabbed him hard against me, "I'm teasing you, and you love it."  Firmly, I
grabbed his balls, yanked.  "Do you know what a funnel is?"

"Yeah.  Stop it.  You're squeezing too hard."

"Imagine a funnel inside you, right behind your navel, and..."  I stroked
his hair as I found a simpler way to explain this: "direct all the pain to
the funnel.  The tip of the funnel is right at the bottom of your cock.
All those tiny electric sparks from your pain rush to the funnel, into your
sweet little dick.  They'll build an erection, slowly, building your
craving.  The high of your life -- pain goes directly to your
performance...  Well, your orgasm, your feel-goods.  Do you understand me?
The pain leaves when you give me your cum, like payback.  A satisfying way
to erase your infraction."

Blank stare.

This may require tutoring for the boy to grasp the concept, a demonstration
was in order.  From a warm embrace, I shoved both his wrists behind his
back and held them firmly.  "I'll show you...."

...

From the nightstand, I drew my lambswool cuffs with the sterling silver
chains and fit them snugly at his wrists.  Turned him face-down and pinned
him.  Now the tricky part, he'd begun struggling against my weight as I sat
over his narrow body, my dark, heavy dick painting glistening puddles on
his skin.  This one was a real beauty, never realized what a jewel he was
under his baggy clothes, and so young.  Perfect age to learn stamina,
control.

Held his left wrist under my knee and secured his right to the ring on the
headboard, flipped him over and centered his body on the bed, secured the
other.  His breathing was rapid and shallow, almost fully receptive with
pharmaceutical assistance.  This boy had little muscle tone, but it would
improve, I could tell he was going to like this, it felt dangerous.  His
proclivity to gunpowder was on my side; his thrill-seeking nature would be
directed to my destination.

Opened fully on my bed, facing the ceiling, he was firmly restrained after
a few attempts to kick me.  It only roused me further to test his mettle.
Sitting between his spread legs, I caressed his thighs, a few welts wrapped
around his slim hips, pointing to the area of my concern.  Clamps, clips,
maybe a cock ring, but I didn't have one small enough, he'd not started
puberty yet, not much material to work with, but sufficient.

"I wanna go home."  He whimpered, I got out the gag.  Another struggle, but
he relented and became my pliant doll.  I could concentrate his attention
with my demonstration, forcing him into the decision he needed to make.

His chest heaved attracting my hands to his flat pecs, his nipples.
Clamps, they called for the tiny clamps.  First, I twisted his right nipple
as I adjusted the clamp.  He struggled trying to move away, grunting.  Then
the other.  He really didn't like it.  "Relax, sweetheart, it's like the
phone ringing.  Check the number- it's the guy that talks dirty to you.
You'll come to like it, like you did with him once you understood."

Still undecided, but on the precipice of surrender.  "Let it build, let the
craving build...."  With the patience of a spider watching the fly struggle
in his web, I waited for the latte's lacing to work further.  This needed
accompaniment; Dimitri Mitropoulos' notes wrapped us in audial excitement.

He continued struggling, the drug was rasping his nervous system.  I
watched, enjoying his frustration.  When he began whimpering and humping
the air, I stood.  "Oops, did we hit an obstacle in our maze?"  Knees
flexed, his cocklet strained for warmth, moisture, touch, and I knew he
couldn't stop himself.  A boy has so many personal challenges.  That
thought prompted me to attach his ankles aside his wrists, neatly folded in
half.

"My darling dilettante, I'll give you the teasing you need.  Calm down."
He did, falling into complete submission.  What a buffet of boy-fun lay in
front of me.

Fork and knife play?  Later.

...

The tiny nipple clamps were connected by a thin chain.  Roughly, I tugged
the chain to make sure my placement would hold as the boy's eyes filled
with tears.

Perfect.

His chest heaved with sobs, he drooled from the gag and his eyes dripped
tears into his hairline.

Perfect.

...

Caressing his balls, I explored the sensitive area between those rangy
thighs, my fingertips stroking lightly, occasionally glancing at his face
when I pinched, but my fingers languidly neared his hole, then back to his
cock.  Tugged on the chain to keep his attention as I spit on my finger and
rubbed his dark-pink hole.  He looked back at me.  Had his full attention
when I jerked the chain, dropped it and almost penetrated his hole with my
thumb.  Instead, I pinched, pulled, then slapped his testicles roughly.
Hovered over him in anticipation, the fear in his eyes hardened my rod,
steeled my resolve to tease.  Touched his hole lightly with my glans,
watching his face.

His body tensed, "Funnel, boy.  Push the pain into your cock."

Closing his eyes, he made long humming noises as he tried.  Wasn't sure
what he was trying to do, stop the pain or redirect it.  Rapidly shoved my
finger in him to check.  He gasped, then a long, slow moan.

While I digitally inspected his rectal wall, searching for his pleasure
bumps, I continued squeezing, pulling and pinching along his nuts, then to
his short shaft.  Contradictions warred in his mind, and his potent young
hormones were winning as I watched his prick bob.  He trembled several
times causing me to squeeze the base of his penis till he tried to turn
while I continued rubbing internally.  Would he take the pain to get to the
pleasure?  Would he?

Could he?

Suddenly he broke, a mewl came from around the gag.  His rod was hard, skin
stretched tight, anxious purple glans showed from his dark foreskin
revealing a short slit.  I teased it with the tip of my tongue, not giving
him much until he lifted his hips, eyes wide.  Shoved my finger deeper
inside him and, pulled it out and entered abruptly again, again.  By now he
was making different sounds, modulated groans. Thighs, torso tensed.  He
was ready to cum.

Found his glands and began rubbing hard, he tried lifting his hips again.
My face neared his groin and I gave him one long, slow lick up his cock,
then took his balls in my mouth, both of them caught between my teeth.
When I felt his body jerk, that was the moment I rubbed inside him, hard,
and I bit and tugged his sac enjoying his writhing.

Still, but for his rapid breaths, he turned his head to the side and
grunted a few times.  Continued rubbing him and glanced to see a drop
glistening on his slit.  Just enough to drip down his softening shaft.

No longer undecided, he lay relaxed in full offering to me.

...

Michael was spent in every way, overwhelmed from his strained orgasm,
exhausted from his doubled position.  Inviting, his cleft opened wide,
still striped with welts, they probably still burned.  I gave him a few
slaps to wake his nervous system.

He watched as I knelt before his moist altar in a reverent way as I slipped
on a narrow but thick, silicone ring studded with soft, short strands on my
steely dick.  A tickler, a teaser for sure.  Next month he'd come to beg
for it, now I was curious if this boy could take the heightened stimulation
after his earlier orgasm.  Seemed he was ready, he watched.  Holding my
erect wand adorned with extra girth and texture, "You ready?"

He lifted his head, saw the device, then turned his head to the side,
breathing deeply.  Maybe he was fatigued, but this enhancement had made an
impression.  He was stiffening again with the thought of a filled rectum.

My knees under his lower back, I held him open with my thumbs and touched
his slightly chapped, sensitive skin.  Jerked, clenched shut.  Just try to
stop me.  A few drops of pre-cum moistened him, not enough for the
silicone, though.  I shoved hard, "Send it to your dick, boy.  You're about
to cum again."  I whispered and rammed my way inside him while he grunted.
The skin around his dry hole I found intriguing, delightful; didn't seem he
held the same appreciation.

My glans hit his back wall, I needed to start the stimulation -- more like
a gentle scratching inside with the strands of silicone while my dick
enjoyed his tight muscle; my glans nudged his elastic, spongy heat.  Looked
down to see his eyes closed again, in concentration, surely.  Tugged the
chain on the nipple rings to make sure his mind stayed on track.  When I
did, I glanced at his short rod standing proudly sporting a droplet.  He
just turned his head to the side and closed his eyes again.  I believe he
was using the funneling technique.

Changed positions to make sure he was aware of each rugae, each fold and
nerve ending inside him, making sure each neuron was stimulated, then began
ramming hard, keeping an eye on his cock.  Ribcage jumped with breaths and
he curled his spine asking for more.  A string of his excitement dripped
from his slit to the mound of his navel, he was as ready as I was, so I
began slow but deep thrusts, each ending with a twist of my hips to tighten
his membranes across my glans.  "Tighten up, tease me."

Clenching his face, he tightened his anal muscles around my shaft, making
long vowel sounds.  Seeing that, I handed all control over to my body and
didn't stop till I felt the hot surges rise up and out.  Kept going till
I'd pumped him to joyous overflowing.  Stayed inside him till the mess
caused me to slip out of him.

Looked down at my work -- where was the silicone ring?  Must still be
inside him.  Quickly, with two fingers, I searched for the ring.  Somehow
it got lodged in the corner of his sigmoid colon; my fingers weren't long
enough to pull it out.  Incriminating if I took him to the ER.  Coat hanger
to pull it out?  Never.  I fished further, "Push, push against my fingers."

He pushed and an explosion of unappealing aroma filled the bed.  "Push
harder."

Though my dominant mood was broken by silicone slippage, I was able to
unleash a very satisfied, and better-educated boy after restraint removal.
Not so surprisingly he snuggled against me, "That was great."

"Good.  Now you can tease me."  After several moments of resistance, he
took my cock in his mouth and I was rigid again, "Ride me, boy.  Ride my
dick like you crave it."

He was sensitive back there after all the previous activity, and I watched
closely.  He managed to balance his discomfort with pleasure as I stroked
his adolescent dick with the long foreskin.  I got my epicurean reward,
licked it from my fingertip as my heartbeat slowed.  Delightfully
delicious.

...

Since Byron wasn't here to perform the proper ablutions on Michael, I left
him with a minimum of equipment and hoped he'd figure it out while I made
"special" orange juice, a drink I'd learned to mix during my spiritual
counseling as a mere teen.

Back in the bedroom, Michael was still damp from the shower.  "Are you
thoroughly cleansed?"

He trudged back the bath for almost forty-five minutes, I had other things
on my mind.  Came out smelling like my Kilian Arabian Musk.  Expensive
tastes for a lad, "Ready to sleep?"  I held up the fuzzy wrist restraints.
He frowned, and as his face drew downward, pop!  A string of gaseous pearls
escaped from his rear.

Only stood and pointed to the bath, "Have you no couth?"  I chastised him
verbally, slapping his reddened butt all the way to the bath.  "Sit."  I
let him watch me fill the bag full, over two liters, release the air from
the tubing.  "Lay over my lap."  His reddened behind appeared on my lap,
still carrying heated stripes of teasing.

No, I wasn't kind, I shoved and opened the valve, "Hold it or regret it."

Hummed along with Bach's C Major Prelude, the whole piece while he
squirmed, begging me to let him up.  Fine time to administer a few swats in
time with music.  The position of teacher is tiring, I let him up and left.
What a colonic ruckus, I turned the music up.

...

I'd fallen asleep, intoxicated on the activities and a double nightcap,
strains of Monteverdi lulling me into dreams feeling the breath of a
satisfied pupil nearby.

Woke later feeling cold, my hand had fallen asleep.  As I began to turn, I
felt a tug on my wrist.  What?  A sudden jerk and I was supine, restrained
at my wrists looking into Michael's grinning face.  Glanced at my wrists, I
recognized the laces from my best Saint Crispin's--my shoelaces stretched
from the headboard to double knot at my radial artery, choking the blood
supply.  The little thug had tied me with my own designer shoelaces!  He
grabbed an ankle, I tried to kick him back.  He simply stood and smiled,
"Whazza matter?  I thought I heard you ask me to tease you."

Sounded damn cocksure for an amateur, "You have no idea what you're doing."

"Too bad, so sad."  He danced a little hoochie-coochie above me, jumped
from the bed and turned on the stereo; rap music.  My ear canals puckered
trying to close; my eardrums shimmied in horror.  Sat on my right leg after
he pulled the ties from my bath robe and smoking jacket.  Took his sweet
time tying my ankles, knees, I was trussed tightly.  "Hit a baffle, big
boy?"

Sat back and admired his work, then on his knees.  "You bite me, and I'll
pull the rest of your hair out, which isn't much."  Up the bed and
straddled my head.  "You're going to suck me off; crave my cum."

"Wha--" Mouthful of cocklet stifled my response.  Dragged his dick up my
face, catching his glans in my left nostril, "Lick my balls like you're
removing an obstacle in that damn maze."  His voice was cutesy, fingernails
gripped into my scalp.  "Use your funnel.  You can do it. I know you can."

How dare he speak to me like a preschooler.

Continued humping against my face, those tiny almond-sized balls hitting my
chin, navel protrusion at my forehead.  When he started speeding up, I
sucked hard, giving his frenulum a thorough massage, hoping to pull a
dribble to end this torture.  What a disgusting position to be tied into.
Suddenly he pulled out and aimed his slit between my eyebrows.  Dropped his
first puddle there, then wiped the ensuing offerings down my nose.
Revolting.  Then, it dripped from between my eyebrows into my eyes, burning
and I couldn't rub it out.  He grinned.  "Vision problem?  Oh well, you
don't need to see what I'm going to do next."

Through my stinging, watering eyes, I could see he was getting dressed.
"Wait.  You can't leave me like this!"

He ignored me, swaying his body in time to a heavy bass line, "...the
medallion. My diamonds are reckless. It feels like a midget is hanging from
my necklace."  If that wasn't painful enough, he turned it off and sat on
the side of the bed, tickling my dick telling me I didn't measure up to the
studs in the hood:

"That guy with all the hearts-a-card, he's great.  Got a hammock on his
patio, we fuck out there under the sprinkler.  When I was a kid, he used to
shove marshmallows up my butt just for fun."

"It's his harpsichord!"  I know that guy.  "Who else enjoys your favors?"

"Let me see." He assumed a cherubic attitude, "Rev. Falconer had to leave,
the judge died, but he was hot.  I hang out over by the tennis courts, near
the shower.  That's where I meet Mr. Mede, Gary.  Hung like a bull.  Then
there's Jon-Jon, I mean Jonners, and Dub.  You know the one with the curvy
cock."

"What about me?"

"Meh."  He put his shoe on then thumped my drowsy dick.  "Got anything good
in the kitchen?  Any macadamias?"

"I've an ample supply.  Let me up, I'll get them for you."  My vascular
system was suffering; nerves numbed.

"I'll find `em on my way out.  I got meet Major Brawne."

"That geezer who wears camo and binoculars?  The guy with three flagpoles
in his front yard?  The one who plays the national anthem at sunrise?  How
did he ever get in here?  This is an elite community."

"He was in the elite forces.  Besides, he knows everything about putty
explosives. Now if you wanna talk classic cocks...."

"Are you going to untie me?  Not good to back up the urinary tract."

"Lambkin, are you uncomfortable?"  Took the tickler from the night stand
and doubled it around the base of my dick.  "Imagine a funnel, right here."
His stubby finger pressed hard over my full bladder.

I wriggled harder, "Untie me now you wench!"

"Wenchy-wenchey.  In a pinchey?"  Aping me.  He got my phone out and took
several pictures of my undignified pose, "Security officers'll find you.
Probably take an hour...."  He checked the time after he sent my photos.

Audaciously, he went to my slacks, removed my wallet perused the contents
and took all the cash, hundreds!  "See ya' `roun'."

"Wait!  I'll tell security you tricked me."

"Would that be before or after I show `em my rear?"  He gave me a quick,
innocent-forlorn expression then snickered.  Footsteps ran the hall, and I
heard him in the kitchen, then slam the back door.

In the distance, I heard a few firecrackers pop and a loud, high-pitched
whoop.



End.

Comeuppance