Date: Sat, 15 Oct 2022 15:05:18 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel Subject: Little Big Man - Chapter 15 (Authoritarian) LITTLE BIG MAN – a serial novel by Travis Creel CHAPTER FIFTEEN: THE SPANKING CONTEST Previously: A wild day of a complex competition found Alex and Matti going up and down the standings within their group, trying to gain points by fucking Bottoms they had not previously fucked – and avoid losing points by accidentally choosing those they had. The lowest-ranking member of their group would become a new Bottom. In the end, they managed to escape that humiliation, but four of their colleagues did not, including their friend D.C. And the four losing Bottoms (New York, Georgia, Oklahoma and Florida) were seemingly condemned to castration – until the organizers dangled the hope that their masculinity might yet be saved. And all were shocked when it was announced Round Three – which would diminish the ranks of the Tops from twenty to sixteen – would take place immediately. (Note: the results of all competitions were determined by random simulation, unless the result would alter the story arc of the two main characters.) ALEX: FRIDAY, JUNE 10, EVENING – ATLANTIC OCEAN There would have been a murmur throughout the room if we were allowed to murmur. We had driven ourselves crazy and drained both our nuts and our brains over three long, arduous days to ensure our safety as Tops – and yet we were not secure? They had said the last place finishers among both Tops and Bottoms would be demoted. But now maybe the Bottoms wouldn't be – but four more Tops would? They had lied. Or so I thought. But `Thomas' said otherwise: - If you listened carefully to us on Tuesday, we said that Tops would be demoted if they were in last place in their group at 8:01 tonight. However, we said Bottoms would be made demoted if they were in last place at the end of Friday night. Friday night is not yet over. The four doomed men brightened. And a sense of foreboding spread among the other Bottoms, especially those like Arizona and West Virginia who had barely escaped demotion. - Round Three will determine which four Tops will become Bottoms. And which Bottoms will join – and complete – our Empty Scrotum Club. He smiled, as if that was amusing. As we used to say when we were kids, hardy har har. DMITRI: I'm going to take over the narrative from here, because, frankly, Alexei's description was boring, focused solely focused on whether he and his friend would escape demotion. Well, I'll end the suspense. Neither of them was ever in much jeopardy, and they both remained Tops. But from a dom's perspective, Round Three had its entertaining moments, particularly in the last two groups. We brought out the long, heavy wooden paddles, and we saw the Bottoms' eyes widen. The Bottoms were still competing within their original groups, but we regrouped the Tops. We lined up Group A in order of their Round Two finish, headed by the newly demoted New Jersey, followed by Kentucky, Arkansas, Missouri, Ohio, Massachusetts and New York. We placed New Jersey and Kentucky into stocks, positioning them so that their asses protruded at just the proper angle. There would be six rounds of one-on-one competitions: The winner of New Jersey versus Kentucky would be freed and replaced by Arkansas for the next round, with that winner freed and replaced by Missouri, and so on. The loser of the last round would go under the knife. The goal for Tops was to generate the greatest sound with their blows. We strapped sound meters to the Bottoms' thighs to measure the volume of the `whack' as paddle collided with rump. The goal for Bottoms was to emit the least sound after the blows. We fitted them with special collars to measure the volume of the cry, grunt, or gasp emanating from their throats. Since the loser of a round would advance to the next round with an already sore ass, his unblemished opponent had an advantage. So Sergei had calculated an adjustment, assessing the lesser-spanked competitor with a handicap of a certain number of decibels. (He tells me he quite enjoyed collecting data to determine the appropriate adjustment.) This, he said, made it fair. We decided to regroup the Tops and selected the first five at random – South Carolina, Maryland, Puerto Rico, Delaware, and Kansas. Each Top would apply two strokes to each Bottom in each round. They could only use one arm, but with as much force as they could muster. The Top whose butt blows generated the fewest decibels over all six rounds would be demoted. The competition gave me a chance to study the Tops I was most interested in eventually taking home with me. At the top of my list were the four remaining blonds – Nebraska, North Carolina, North Dakota, and Wisconsin. I also savored Minnesota and South Dakota, and three Black boys – Iowa, Illinois, and Mississippi – I was unlikely to get, because Boris had first dibs on them. The initial competition was no contest. Puerto Rico proved a pitiful paddler, decidedly deserving of demotion (alliteration courtesy of my translator Oleg). Among the Bottoms, New York had a pain tolerance so low that he couldn't keep from bellowing. That does not bode well for his future life. Which will be as a Eunuch. In the second group, Oklahoma, who earlier had bolted at the prospect of possible emasculation, failed to avoid that fate. Hawaii was demoted from the Tops, a mild surprise. Overall, the first two rounds were devoid of drama, if pleasurable to watch – and listen to. There is nothing so delightful as the sound of a resounding smack of wood against buttock. Unless it's the cry of the recipient. Alexei competed in the third round; his group of Bottoms was his Round Two group – the newly demoted Michigan, Arizona, Tennessee, Utah, Alabama, New Mexico, and Florida. The first three contests went as planned, but then Utah, after losing to Tennessee, also lost to Alabama. By now Utah had taken twenty merciless swats on his previously lily-white buttocks, tinting them the color of raw steak. One of the lovelier shades an ass could be. Despite the built-in advantage Sergei had arranged for him, he was a weakling, while New Mexico had remarkable self-control. And so Utah, improbably, advanced to the final round against Florida. Unaware of Sergei's handicap, the foolish boy whined. - My ass is on fire and HE hasn't been hit once! Joey stepped forward and mercifully covered the boy's mouth before he could do himself more damage. He broke the bad news to Utah. - That's eleven words you were not allowed to say. Over the weekend, you'll be fucked once for each word. That's eleven cocks up your ass. - WHAT? ? Despite Joey's hand, the sound carried through. - Twelve. Now, do you have anything else to say? Some of us don't have a date with you yet. Utah clearly wanted to, but reality set in and he kept quiet. Joey released the boy's mouth. - Of course, that last outburst will count against your decibel total. - NO! - As will that one. You're up to thirteen fucks now, want to go for twenty? Utah shook his head. Among the Tops, I had my eye on Alexei and Nebraska. Nebraska was a step down in quality from Alexei and was in danger of demotion. Alexei was unlikely to win his group, which included the muscular Wyoming, but he had held second easily until it came to the initial contests involving Utah. It looked to me like he was moderating his swings when he struck Utah, while going all-out against the boy's opponents. I thought back to Round One when he and Minnesota had betrayed Utah and I wondered if guilt was influencing the intensity of his swats. Alexei slipped back to third, but was still well ahead of both California and Nebraska, and in no danger of demotion. But with Utah's foolish outburst, what might have been pity devolved into contempt. Alexei saw that the boy was his own worst enemy. Ironically, in the final, Utah would be up against the king of Own-Worst-Enemy, Florida. And Alexei went all-out against Utah in the finale. If Utah's rump had previously been the color of raw steak, it was now more like a ripe tomato. And Florida had learned a thing or two about restraint – and that maybe it was better to have balls than not. And so, by Utah's stupendous stupidity, Florida's balls were saved. Among the Tops, Nebraska lost out, one of my blonds knocked out. The interesting part of the last group was, again, the contest among the Bottoms. While there were some surprises along the way, the final involved the two lowest seeds, West Virginia and Georgia. I was keeping a keen eye, meanwhile, on the Tops, as my own personal slave wouldn't emerge from the ranks of the Bottoms. North Carolina and Minnesota were my dogs in this hunt (Oleg assures me that's an expression Americans would understand). Going into the final duel, Kansas (a Yuri target) was leading Minnesota by less than I would have expected. Kansas was stronger, but Minnesota seemed to have found the launch angle that would amplify the sound the most. North Carolina and Illinois (a Boris target) were in a close battle for third, with Nevada (a Sergei target) last. Illinois, Minnesota, and Nevada each had solid whacks that probably didn't affect their standings, but Nevada might have inched closer to those he was trying to pass. Kansas planted two monster blows on the vulnerable asses of the two at-risk Bottoms, securing the win, and then it was North Carolina's turn. He struck Georgia solidly but his first blow against West Virginia, while given with gusto, missed the sweet spot and didn't produce the volume he was looking for. Determined to make up for it on the second swat, the blond retracted his arm nearly two hundred and seventy degrees and actually spun to increase his arm velocity as it connected with Georgia's curvaceous rump. The strategy backfired, however, as his footing wasn't secure and he nearly missed striking the Atlantan's buttocks altogether. As it was, it made a weak sound, and his victim made none at all. He planted a hard one on West Virginia's ass, which elicited a satisfying grunt, but was it too little too late? Did Nevada pass him? North Carolina was one of my picks and Nevada one of Sergei's. Sergei was totaling up the scores; when I saw him smile, I shrugged. Ah, well. Lots of good fish in the sea. - West Virginia, Georgia, one of you will soon be gelded. It was very close – very close. But the Bottom who made the most noise was . . . West Virginia. Georgia, who before the spanking contest had thought his balls a lost cause, whooped for joy, jumping up and down in celebration, while poor West Virginia hung his head dejectedly. - However, . . . Boom. I'll turn the narrative back to Alexei. ALEX: "However". The world seemed to stop with that word. Georgia didn't know what hit him, and West Virginia's face filled with hope. - The margin was so close that it fell within the allowance given to contestants paddled previously. West Virginia is declared the winner. - (Georgia, screaming) That's not fair! Joey smacked Georgia across the mouth, knocking him down. - (Joey) Three words, three cocks. And they'll be big ones. - (`Thomas') It's fair because it's in the rules. Face the facts, boy: you are going to lose those balls. How you lose them is up to you. We can do it swiftly in surgery or we can smash them over several hours and then drain your scrotal sac of the bits and pieces that remain. If you would like it to be the first way, you will keep your mouth shut. A shock wave descended on Georgia's face. The threat worked. He nodded a terrified agreement, and his protest came to a rapid end. - I thought you would understand. But, some good news. As promised earlier, after geld these young men, their work is done here. There will be no more castrations on this ship. Had silence not been the order of the day, I think the room would have exploded in a rousing cheer. - Speaking of this ship, I think it is time we explained to you why this ship is named Fundamental Experience. `Fundament' is an old-fashioned word, one which most Americans do not know. The word `fundament' means `anus'. So by now you have all had fundamental experiences, either in your own fundament, or in the fundament of others. (Pause) Russian humor. Really. Yakov Smirnov you're not. - More good news. With all the punishment fucking that needs to get done over the weekend, the next competition will not begin until Monday night. Round Four is only for Tops. With no more geldings to occur, nothing's at stake for the Bottoms. Wait – what's at stake for the Tops? Are MORE of us to become Bottoms? - The rest of you are dismissed.