ONE PART
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ParrafanCarwash Capersand some other rather silly little tales |
Summary
Publ. Feb-Mar 2009 & Nov 2007 (Nifty); this site
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CharactersVarious boys (mostly c. 12yo)Category & Story codesOther storyMb – anal oral (Explanation) |
DisclaimerIf you are under the legal age of majority in your area or have objections to this type of expression, please stop reading now.If you don't like reading stories about men having sex with boys, why are you here in the first place? This story is the complete and total product of the author's imagination and a work of fantasy, thus it is completely fictitious, i.e. it never happened and it doesn't mean to condone or endorse any of the acts that take place in it. The author certainly wouldn't want the things in this story happening to his character(s) to happen to anyone in real life. It is just a story, ok? |
Author's noteThank you for taking the time to send feedback to the author at parrafan(at)ureach(dot)com or using this feedback form with Parrafan - Carwash Capers in the subject line. |
During summer vacation four seventh graders try to earn some money, but they have to compete with some girls.
'Me', Jimmy, Robbie, Rocky and Nicky (all c. 12yo)
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Author's noteThis story is absolutely fictional, and not a recommended course of action for anyone, man or boy! Come to think of it, there shouldn't even be any boys reading it, maybe they might get some naughty ideas. No whales beached themselves after reading this story, so that's a good thing too, I guess.This rather silly little tale is dedicated to Trey. Cheers, mate! |
Of course, it was all Jimmy's idea. He always comes up with weird ideas. But we do 'em anyway. 'Cause Jimmy's ideas're always fun, too! So, summer break had started, and three days in, there was already nuthin' to do. Me an' Robbie had played like, five games of Monopoly already. We shot about a million baskets at his really lame hoop, that's kinda nailed onto the side of his Dad's garage. We rode our bikes all over town – twice already. That's when Jimmy came up with the idea. See, he needed to make some money, and he only had one week. But he couldn't do it by himself, so he asked me and Robbie to help him. He got Rocky and Nicky to help too. They're in the sixth grade with us at school. But we go into seventh grade after the summer. And Nicky isn't in our school – he's Rocky's cousin, or something. He's visiting for the summer. Boy, did he pick a boring place to visit! Anyway, Jimmy said he needed the money for his vacation with his Uncle. His Mom said he could visit his uncle over the summer in L.A., but he had to pay for the bus fare himself. That's 'cause his Dad's kind of a loser, and won't give it to him. And Jimmy really wants to go, 'cause his uncle's got a really cool place, and is going to take him to where the movies are made, and to the beach, and everything! Jimmy said whatever we make, we split it five ways. He said he woulda invited us to come with him, but his uncle only has a one-room apartment, with a couch that his uncle folds out into a bed every night. We all said that was okay, it was his uncle anyway. Finally, Jimmy told us his idea for making money. He said he thought about mowing lawns, but you hafta go to people's houses and ask them did they want their lawn mowed, and it was all a hassle, and too hot anyway. And he thought about a lemonade stand, but it don't make enough money, and it was too hot anyway. Just when it looked like Jimmy was going to tell us about five hundred ideas he thought of and decided against, Robbie told him to stop jerkin' us around and get on with it. A carwash, Jimmy said, like that explained everything. He said his Dad had lots of car washing stuff he brought home from his job at the store, it was just sitting in the basement in boxes doing nothing, except a couple times a week some guy or other would call around and take one of the boxes and give his Dad some money for it. There was so much stuff, his Dad would never miss a bit of it, he said. Jimmy had it all figured out. He told Rocky to make a big sign, to advertise the carwash, 'cause he was the best in our class at Art. Nicky could help him. Maybe they could make two signs, he said, one for each end of the street. I had to get hoses and buckets from each of our houses, that way there'd be enough to go 'round. Jimmy told Robbie to get his Mom's outdoor setting, the table and chairs and umbrella, and set it up on the front lawn, ready for the customers to sit on while their car gets washed. Jimmy said he would be in charge of holding the money, 'cause it was his idea. Nicky wanted to know how much a car wash was gonna cost, so he could put it on the sign. We all had a big discussion right about then, to decide what we should charge for it, and eventually settled on five bucks, because it seemed about right, and because Jimmy said he could set the price because it was his idea. We all agreed to start the carwash right after lunch, when we brought all the stuff back to Jimmy's front lawn and finished the signs and all. Then Jimmy told us there was one more thing: uniforms. Jimmy said we hadda make it look 'perfessional', by all wearing the same stuff. We settled on white, 'cause we all had that: white shorts, white shirts, white socks, white trainers. Business started slow, but by the time we all had to go eat our suppers, we had 8 customers. That means we made forty bucks! There was a bike in the window of Schwinn's Bike Shop that I woulda killed someone to get, but it was over a hundred bucks! Doing this car washing might mean I could afford it! It was easy work, a lot easier than mowing grass, and when we got hot in the sun, we just squirted each other with the hose! The next day, Tuesday, we expected to get lots more customers, 'cause we had a whole day, and maybe word got around from yesterday. But we only got a few. At lunchtime, Rocky saw a car go by that looked like it was freshly washed. He knew the driver, so he waved. It was Mister Ferrington, who lived next door to Rocky. He asked him why he didn't bring his car to us to get washed, we woulda done him a good deal and a good job. Mister Ferrington told him he woulda, but he passed another carwash being run by a buncha girls, just a coupla blocks away, and they asked him if they could wash his car, and he just couldn't say no, on account of they asked so nicely and all. Plus they had swimsuits on. Rocky passed this news on to Jimmy. "Those bitches!," he yelled. "They stole our idea!" Now, I gotta explain about Jimmy. To him, every girl or woman is a bitch. He's got three older sisters, they're 'lazy bitches'. His Mom is a 'useless bitch'. His aunties are 'nosy bitches'. The lady teachers at our school are 'know-it-all bitches'. Well, that's how he is. Boy, if my dad ever heard me call any girl or lady a bitch, even old Mrs Durlap, that collects the ticket money at the drive-in theatre and who really is a bitch, I wouldn't be able to sit down for a week. And to call my Mom a bitch 3; well, I might as well just pack my bags and leave home. So Jimmy called an emergency meeting. Wasn't that hard – we were all standin' around right there anyway – and said we had to stop those bitches from takin' all our customers – and our money – right now. Nicky asked how the girls got our idea off us, anyway. That's when I kinda hung my head. See, My Mom always tells me I might as well tell the truth, 'cause everyone can see when I'm lying, I ain't no good at it at all. I just blurted right out that it was my fault. Everyone looked at me so I explained to the guys that like usual, at the supper table last night, Mom had asked us what we all did that day. Well, I was pretty pleased about the forty bucks we made, so I just came right out and told everyone about the carwash, and how easy it was, and how the customers just drove right on up, and everything. But what I kinda never paid much attention to was that right after supper, my sister Anne-Maree spent an awful lot of time on the phone, more than usual even. I guess I shoulda put two and two together. Rocky said I shoulda just shut my big ole mouth. Robbie asked how come the girls got all our customers just by puttin' on swimsuits. He said Anne-Maree ain't even got no tits. But Nicky said that Anne-Maree was friends with that Collins girl, Phoebe, and she's got great tits. Probably a few of her friends were at the girls' car wash too. I was too dejected from losin' all our customers (and our dough) to worry about whether I should be insulted by Robbie's remark about Anne-Maree's tits. Why would he be lookin' there anyway? Robbie's always talkin' about girls' tits – ever since he got a coupla hairs round his dick. It's weird. Jimmy wasn't as pissed with me as I expected he'd be. Sometimes he's got a pretty short fuse, has Jimmy. He just said that we weren't gonna let some bitches take our money, and we were gonna fight fire with fire. He said that he had speedos on under his white shorts, and anybody that didn't could go home right away and put them on, and we were gonna show a lot more skin and get all our customers back. He said if people thought them bitches looked good in swimsuits, wait 'til they see us guys! Then he stripped down to his swimsuit right there in front of us, and sure enough, he had on this pale yellow speedo. Robbie said it looked liked last year's size, whatever that meant. But the rest of us scattered back to our homes, and ten minutes later we were all in speedos and our customers started to arrive! It was a lot more fun washin' the cars in speedos, I was surprised nobody thought of it before. Jimmy said that since Nicky was the cutest-looking boy out of all of us (except himself, of course), that he should make another sign, and go on over to where them bitches (the girls) were washin' cars, so all their customers would see that they should get their cars washed at the boys' car wash. Nicky said he was not the cutest, but everyone told him he was too, and to stop arguin' about it. I couldn't see why bein' cute had anything to do with washin' cars, but I guess that's 'cause I ain't no businessman. We made another fifty-five bucks that afternoon, plus thirty bucks in tips! And we had a lot of fun as well. Robbie pulled Nicky's speedo down at the back, right in front of a customer, and everybody laughed – even the customer, but not Nicky: he squealed like a girl and chased Robbie with a hose! Rocky put soap suds all around his speedo, so it looked like he was wearing nothin' but foam! Jimmy popped a boner, but he didn't even care! He just kept on goin' right up to the customers after we finished washin' the cars and askin' for the money! His speedo stuck way out in front, and since it was wet you could kinda see the tip of his dick through the material, a bit. But he never tried to cover it up! Boy, he was a lot braver than I woulda been. When it was time for supper, I told the other guys that I would make up for my big mouth by listening in on Anne-Maree if she phones up any of the other girls tonight after supper, just in case they come up with any more ways to steal out customers off us. Robbie said the girls probably would discuss it after they finished washin' their cars, and maybe he should sneak around there and hide in the bushes and listen, but Jimmy said those bitches are always talking on the phone, even if they just finished talking to each other face-to-face, and that Robbie just wanted to see that bitch Phoebe's tits in a wet t-shirt. Jimmy told me to make sure I heard everything. Next day, straight after breakfast, I met everyone on the front lawn of Robbie's house, where we had everything set up. I told them I listened real good to Anne-Maree, and that was how I found out what they're gonna do today. It was all Phoebe Collins' idea, according to what I heard Anne-Maree say, that the girls were all going to wear long white t-shirts with only bikini bottoms underneath them, and to wet the t-shirts so their tits would show through. Jimmy said that big-titted bitch wasn't going to steal our customers from us, and we were gonna outsmart those bitches at their own game. Jimmy asked us all whether our parents would notice if we didn't have those white shorts we wore on Monday anymore, and we all agreed that nobody's parents would even care. Jimmy told Robbie to go inside and get his mother's scissors, while we all went back to our houses and got our white shorts. When we met up again, Jimmy explained his new plan for keeping our customers. He told us to follow him to the side of Robbie's house, where it was shielded from the road by the fence and some bushes. I couldn't figure out why we were going back to wearing shorts, since the speedos seemed to work so well, but Jimmy said that the bitches had 'upped the ante', and we had to 'kick in to stay in the game'. He asked Nicky for his shorts, and used the scissors to cut right up the side seam, all the way to just below the waist, on both sides. Then he did the same on the other four pairs of shorts, and gave them back to us. "Now we put 'em on, with nothing underneath," Jimmy said, pulling his t-shirt off and dropping his speedos to his ankles. Now I knew why we were doing this in the shelter of the bushes! The rest of us just looked at each other as Jimmy pulled on his cut-up shorts, until Robbie just shrugged and started stripping off as well. Soon we had all stripped and re-dressed in the mangulated shorts, and emerged from the bushes to get to work. Wearing the shorts felt weird, especially when a gust of wind blew them up in back, it felt like I had on nothin' at all. And when they got wet, it was worse! With no undies, the wet material just stuck to my dick and you could see the whole thing! But the other guys didn't seem to mind, so I just got on with my job. I was in charge of wiping the cars down with a chamois after they got their final hose-off from Jimmy. Robbie and Rocky worked the sponges, and Nicky was our supply guy, keeping all the buckets full of water and suds. We still had fun, and lots of customers. I thought I recognised some of the cars from yesterday, but I musta been mistaken – who would get their car washed two days in a row? I couldn't believe Jimmy had a boner again, with his see-through shorts and all, but he sure did! I even saw him a couple times touch it, when he was talkin' to a customer! Not rub it or anything gross, but he would walk up to the window of the car, where the driver was, and just kinda bump it with the end of the hose in his hand, keeping his boner stiff, and ask the driver for five bucks! I'm sure some of the drivers saw it, too! Not that Robbie and Rocky were any better – whenever they walked past each other, circling around the car to sponge it down, they were always grabbing at each other's dicks, or pulling the loose material of their shorts up at the back, exposing a cheek of their butts. The drivers didn't seem to mind – at least nobody complained to our parents! At the end of our third day of car washing, Jimmy announced that we had made another ninety-two bucks – thirty-two of that was in tips! That made nearly two hundred bucks! Jimmy said it was 'imperative' that I listen to what the bitches were planning for Thursday, so we could beat them to it, so I had my secret mission for the night. He also told us to dry our shorts out, and make sure our parents didn't find 'em. I was afraid to ask what we would be wearing the next day! Thursday morning, we had our 'business meeting' as Jimmy called it, right after breakfast, on the front lawn of Robbie's house, under the umbrella. Everyone was waiting for me to report on what the girls discussed on the phone last night. I told them that Anne-Maree was giggling so much I could hardly understand what she was sayin', but I eventually heard that they were sticking with the long t-shirts and bikini bottoms that they wore on Wednesday, but with a difference – they were going to start cleaning the insides of the cars as well. Jimmy rubbed his finger and thumb on his chin, like he was thinkin'. He asked me whether the bitches said anything about the drivers staying inside their cars. I said that it puzzled me when they said it, but yeah, the drivers were supposed to sit inside, behind the wheel. Then Jimmy stood up, to explain what we were gonna do today. But before doing that, he told us something about his uncle, who he was savin' up to stay with in L.A. He said whenever his uncle came to visit him, he always patted Jimmy on the butt, whenever he could. In the mornings, after school, when he got out of the bathtub, when he walked past him in the living room, in pajamas, it didn't matter. His uncle loved patting his butt, and Jimmy kinda got used to it. His uncle gave him a nickel every time he did it, so Jimmy kinda looked forward to it, as well. Nicky surprised me by saying that Rocky's big brother Alfonso (Nicky is staying with Rocky, remember) is always patting him on the butt and wrestling on the floor and the couch with him. Rocky admitted that Alf did that kinda stuff with him all the time, too. Then Robbie said that his next-door neighbour was always taking photos of him in the back yard in his swimsuit, and he especially liked it when Robbie pulled the back of his swimsuit down and showed his butt for a photo. His neighbour gave him a half-dollar every time he did that, Robbie said. Then Jimmy asked me whether I had anything to add. I still couldn't quite work out what all these guys were getting at, about being patted on the butt and having photos of their butt taken, so I just said that Mister Kardenhaus, the school janitor, whenever he sees me in the hall, calls me over to him and sits me on his knee so I can tell him how my day is going. He puts his hand across my thighs so I don't fall off. Jimmy nodded. "So we all understand what needs to be done," he says, and the other guys all nod, but I haven't got a clue what they're all talkin' about. So I figure, better than lookin' dumb, I'll just watch what the others do, and then I'll get it. We all went up to the side of Robbie's house, behind the bushes, and changed into the cut-up shorts again. I wasn't sure, but it seemed to me that Jimmy's shorts were shorter than yesterday – they hardly came down to the top of his legs; and the slit up the side wasn't a slit any more, it looked more like an upside-down "V." As I looked around, I noticed that Nicky's shorts seemed to be different, somehow, as well. They sure weren't the same ones he had on yesterday. Nicky saw me looking at them, and told me that he thought the legs were a bit too long, so he shortened them. Then Robbie said that yeah, he made the legs of his shorts a bit shorter, too, because they got uncomfortable bein' so long. Rocky said the fork of the shorts got itchy when it was wet so he trimmed it a little – now it looked like only a string was holding the two halves together. Jimmy gave me the scissors, in case I wanted to 'improve' my shorts, but I didn't know what to do – shorts are shorts, after all. So, we set to work, and I noticed a few of the cars had out-of-state tags, so maybe word was gettin' around of how good our car wash was! After I finished one car with the chamois, I told Jimmy he could collect the money from the driver. His dick was stickin' straight out again, and because he had cut the legs off the shorts, there sure wasn't much material left to cover it! But he just walked right on up to the driver, and asked if there was anything else we could do for him, So the driver says "Such as?," and I can see him lookin' right at Jimmy's boner. So Jimmy called Nicky over to the car window. I couldn't exactly hear what Jimmy was sayin', but it sounded like he was tellin' the driver that for ten bucks extra, Nicky would dust his radio. I thought the driver would just laugh at him for sure, but he took one look at Nicky and opened the door. Nicky leaned right across the guy's lap and started dusting that radio. I never knew radios could get so dusty. I was also puzzled that the guy didn't get out of the car and give Nicky more room, or maybe open the passenger door so Nicky could get in from that side. Boy, there sure is a lot to learn in the car wash business! It was a funny sight, kinda – I could see Nicky's bare legs sticking out of the car door, with the driver's hands on Nicky's butt to stop him from fallin'; the driver's hands were kinda shakin' some, like he was shiverin' or whatever; Jimmy was just standing there feelin' his boner and watchin' Nicky's butt get rubbed; then the driver started gruntin' a bit, and Jimmy said "Time's up!" The driver handed over fifteen bucks, and Jimmy gave Nicky a pat on the back. It was weird! Nicky wasn't the only one that got to clean inside the cars: after we finished another out-of-stater, Jimmy came over to the driver's window and said to the guy that Robbie and Rocky could clean the door handles in the back seat for an additional fifteen bucks, and the guy could watch to make sure they did a good job. The guy looked at Robbie and Rocky in their little white shorts, and handed Jimmy the cash right off! They piled into the back seat, and I could hear 'em squirmin' around, like there wasn't much room. They musta both been lying down on the seat, to get a better angle at the door handles, I guess, 'cause I couldn't see 'em – but I could sure hear 'em! They musta polished those handles 'til they glowed, by the sound of it – even the driver was impressed, 'cause he leaned over the front seat and watched the whole thing! When they finished and got outta the car, I noticed they both had boners, but that happens sometimes when you have to work close up alongside somebody, it ain't their fault. Even I got a turn at workin' inside the cars – boy, was it weird! Jimmy asked this guy if he wanted his rear-view mirror shined, and said that I would do it for him, but it would cost twenty bucks! It was the stupidest deal I ever heard of, but after lookin' me over, to see that I was up to the job I guess, the guy went for it! So I climbed in on his lap and sat there, and reached up to the mirror with my washrag. He had one hand on my thigh, to keep me from fallin' off, he said, and the other on my chest, to, well, keep me from fallin' over, I guess. But it musta took a lot of effort, 'cause the guy never stopped groanin' the whole time. By suppertime, when we had to call it quits, we had made nearly a hundred bucks in just the one day! That made over three hundred so far, and we were almost up to Jimmy's target! A return bus ticket to L.A. was ninety bucks, so we had to make four-fifty all up, and we weren't far off, but we only had one more day, 'cause the bus only left on Saturdays. Jimmy asked Nicky to wait behind a minute, but the rest of us took off for our homes for supper. Robbie didn't have very far to go! On Friday morning, we all assembled at the front of Robbie's house like usual. Jimmy said that 'this was it', like we were goin' to land at Iwo Jima or somethin'. We snuck down the side of Robbie's house, behind the bushes, like usual, and started takin' our clothes off, to change into the shorts, like usual. I noticed Robbie and Rocky already had boners, and were playin' at grabbin' each other's dicks and laughin'. I had some good news for a change: I told the guys that I listened in to Anne-Maree on the phone again last night, and she was tellin' some other girl that Phoebe Collins got busted by some grown-up for not wearin' a bra under her t-shirt. Anne-Maree told this other girl that Mrs Collins grounded Phoebe for a week, then she said that the car washing detergent was making her hair go all frizzy, so she was pulling out as well – the bottom line was, the girls' car wash was all washed up! Jimmy was pretty excited – he started to bone up too – he said that now we got rid of the bitches, nothin' could stand in our way. He said we were gonna introduce a new feature in our car washes, to make even more money: Nicky was gonna give each driver a blow-job, on account of he was so good at it, for only twenty bucks a pop. Nicky got upset, and yelled "You promised you wouldn't tell, if I gave you one!" and sat on the ground naked and sulked. "I'm not gonna do it no more – you can keep the money, I don't want it." We were all kinda dumbfounded by this – Nicky was snifflin' and rubbin' his snotty nose on his arm, and saying that Jimmy could keep his share! That was over sixty bucks! But then, Robbie stopped playin' with Rocky's dick long enough to say to Jimmy that they didn't want the money either, they didn't need it, and Jimmy could have their shares for his trip and all, and they were sick of washin' cars, and they were goin' over to Rocky's house to mess around some, 'cause him Mom wasn't home. They pulled their cloths back on and left. Jimmy sat on the ground next to Nicky, and tried to make it up to him, but Nicky sounded pretty cut up to me. It looked like the whole car wash operation was a bust. Jimmy said he knew how much the bike meant to me, and gave me my share – sixty five bucks! Then he helped Nicky get dressed, and dressed himself, and led him away, to Jimmy's house, I guess. That left me, standin' there in a pair of white shorts that revealed more than they covered, if you know what I mean. I guess I got so used to wearin' 'em, and how comfortable they felt, that I just put 'em on out of habit. I figured I might as well tidy up Robbie's Mom's front yard of all our car wash stuff, or else she might tell my Mom we made a mess of it. A car horn sounded. I peeked out from behind the bushes. It was another one of those out-of-state guys. I came around the side of the bushes to see what the guy wanted. He said he'd heard there was a great car wash here, and wanted to get something special done to his car. Now that's when something funny started happening. See, I been watching everyone the last few days, and noticing how Jimmy walked around with a boner most of the time, even right up to the drivers' windows, without caring who saw. And Robbie and Rocky, they always seemed to be touchin' each other's boners, and I don't think they were goin' to Rocky's house to play Monopoly just now. And Nicky – boy, I never heard of no guy givin' another guy a blowjob before; I thought only girls did that. Jimmy said blowjobs weren't really sex anyway, they were just 3; well, messin' around. So I'm standing there, in front of this guy, with just my white shorts on with big splits up the sides, thinkin' about all what's been happening with the car wash this week, and I started to bone up! The guy in the car was lookin' right at it! But I didn't cover it up, 'cause 3; well 3; I kinda liked that he could see it. It just got stiffer and stiffer, until it pointed right at him! So I half-turned to look up the street, to see if anyone was watchin', or any more cars were comin', but that meant the guy could look straight into the side of my shorts and probably could see my whole boner from side-on! So then he kinda smiled and said that the ash-tray in the back seat needed polishing, and he would pay fifty bucks if I done a good job of it. Then he got out of the driver's seat and opened the back door of his car and got in – on the back seat! Fifty more dollars would give me just enough for that bike! I could feel my boner throbbin', like it was already hopin' for some action. I heard the guy in the back seat unzip his slacks, and wriggle around on the seat a little. The back door of the car was open, waiting for me to jump in 3; "Sure!" I said.
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Author's noteA cursory glance will reveal that this story is obviously fiction, and in no way represents my personal views on anything. It is not for consumption by minors.Do you want to know the meaning of the Latin phrases used in this story as names, check Wikipedia's List of Latin phrases. I dedicate this story to Yuri, who has given me so much.
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"Ah! Greetings, friend, come in, come in – get yourself in out of that devilish wind. You must be my cousin's neighbour from the city, Mister Nildesperandum! Here you are, come stand a moment by the fire, that's the fellow. I'll hang your coat to let it dry, there, that will be snug and warm for you when you put it back on. Now I'll just get you something hot in a mug, to take the chill out of your bones 3; here we go, drink up, my good man." "What is that you say? What sort of place is this? Well, I shall be delighted to tell you. Sit for a moment, while you recover from your journey. Yes, go on, drink your broth, it will do you the world of good. Brewed it myself. Now, what you see around you is the sitting room of my establishment, Adnauseam's Emporium. I am Mister Adnauseam, as you surely know, and I have built this premises up from nothing, with my own two hands. You see, I am the village tortalier." "Eh? You sound puzzled – don't know what a tortalier is, I'll wager. You City folk, you've lost touch with your roots, that's your trouble. You think wine comes from barrels and beef steak from butcher's shops. Well, out here in the provinces, there are still many time-honoured trades that are plied by honest craftsmen such as myself, that you who live in your fashionable apartments in the City would no longer recognise. A tortalier is a manufacturer, nay, creator, of the instruments of torture." "Yes, I'm sure that comes as a surprise. But my dear fellow, everything that is made has a maker – no device simply pops into existence! Fletchers make bows and arrows; wainwrights make carts; chandlers make candles 3; and I make exquisite implements of torture." "Well of course there is a need for them! What a silly question! In the City, you have the convenience of a vigilant and well-equipped police force – and you pay higher taxes to support it, I dare say! Here in the country, we have only one sheriff, in a village of over one thousand souls! How is he to cope with so many potential villains? It is quite simple. Outside the boundaries of the City, different rules apply." "Oh, absolutely, my dear chap! We have discovered a most important principle of human nature, one which allows a single sheriff to adequately enforce law and order among so many hundreds. What is it? It is simpler than you would believe! It is the principle that well-trained children become law-abiding adults. Oh yes, the figures do not lie! It is an undeniable law of humankind! Here in the village of Caveatemptor, we have made the parents of every child they bring into the world completely responsible for all actions done by that child. And to support those parents, we have made every action done by a parent to his or her child completely legal. And that is where I – or rather, my creations – come in." "Why, of course I have children of my own! What a question! You shall meet them in due course, undoubtedly. I have two fine sons: the older one is 3; let me see 3; ah! yes, seventeen years, that is Adinfinitem, and the younger boy, he must be 3; what 3; eleven? No, twelve years is his age, that is Adastra. My, the years do fly by, do they not? I can still recall the day I made their mother pregnant, that was with my lovely daughter Bonavacantia, my first-born. She's married herself now, of course, married and moved away. The two boys are all I have left in the nest." "I can see you glancing towards that doorway. And your suspicions are correct: that is the door to my showroom, where the implements of correction are displayed 3; and demonstrated. Normally, the door is open, because my customers frequently do not have time to tarry in this sitting room – they have many tradesmen to visit, as I am but one among several who ply their trade in this street. I left it closed today to avoid embarrassing your City sensibilities. But when you have recovered from the chill of your journey, and finished your broth, we shall go forth and I will show you everything I have. I am expecting a few customers today- it is likely that you will even see some 3; demonstrations. No, no, do not worry yourself about that: I am sure your presence will not even be noticed. Let me take your empty mug." "All set? Then come this way, dear fellow, your education is about to begin. Careful how you go – I'll just open a few curtains and let in some light. I generally do not like to encourage gawkers to congregate around my windows, but it does make the room somewhat gloomy. Some visitors have remarked that it even gives the place the feeling of a dungeon, but I chuckle to myself that they have likely never visited a real dungeon, now have they?" "Ah, yes, here is as good a place to start as any – this is a device based on an original design of mine. I had the idea while watching the carpenter up the street use a sawhorse while cutting a piece of timber. I call it The Posture Pony, as it is not quite so big as a sawhorse. Oh, you are too kind; naming these objects is quite an art, and your amusement flatters me. I make it in several sizes, each one lovingly carved out of a single block of wood. Notice the bracelets on this side, they are for the hands, and these two widely-spaced fixtures on the other side are for the boy's ankles. When a boy is in position on the Pony, his posterior is most handsomely presented at the apex, legs spread, while his head is down the other side, unable to see the proceedings." "Of course, that model comes with either a complimentary whip, flail or cane, at the purchaser's option, and a ball-gag. Opinion is divided on the question of screaming: in the end it comes down to personal choice. If one has several children, the ball-gag is frequently left off, so that the howls of the boy being whipped serve as a salutary lesson to his brothers. But if a boy is an only child, his wails might merely be an annoyance for one's neighbours, or frighten the stock." "Now, over here is where I keep the hand-held implements, in these cupboards. Yes, there are usually kept closed, otherwise dust accumulates on the pieces, and poor Adinfinitem would have another chore to add to his busy agenda. But of course the boys help me in the shop – why ever wouldn't they? It is my secret hope that one day I can retire and one or both of the boys will follow in my footsteps. Perhaps I will change the name of the shop to "Adnauseam & Sons Discipline Emporium." Sounds rather grand, doesn't it?" "I notice you're rather taken by that flagellum, Mr Nildesperandum. Now that is a perfect example of what I have just been telling you. In other villages, where pride in one's work is much less evident, such objects are very shoddily made. Why, in some places, the leather cords are simply knotted to make the bumps! Now, for my flagellae, I use more traditional methods: my son Adastra goes into the forest and collects burrs, which he soaks in brine before roasting them on a grill. The little thorns are thus quite hard and resilient, and are then sown, one by one, into each leather thong. The thongs themselves have also been meticulously tanned and polished. Knots, indeed! When a boy has been whipped by one of my flagellae, he knows he's been whipped! Just the sight of it has been known to make burly teenagers bawl in terror! "Ah! That sounds like the front door – my first customer of the day! No, no, my dear sir, you'll be fine, believe me, no-one will concern themselves about your presence. Amuse yourself by inspecting the other implements in this cupboard, the canes, thumbscrews, whips, gags and so on, while I attend to business." "Ah, Mistress Almamater! So good to see you! My, but you are looking awfully well today! And I see you've brought along one of your sons, now, don't tell me, I'll get it 3; this one is 3; Delectatio! I knew it as soon as I saw his flaxen hair – I believe your other son Dulcepericulum has hair with a little more ginger in it, am I right? Of course, takes after his father. Now were you just looking today, or did you have something particular in mind that I can show you – a nice whip for young Delectatio's bottom, perhaps, or maybe a discreet ballcrusher for Dulcepericulum?" "You have a discerning eye, Mistress Almamater, the Posture Pony is one of my best sellers – every one of them hand-made on the premises, of course, with a lifetime guarantee. I was just now showing it to my friend from the City, Mister Nildesperandum. Perhaps you would like a demonstration? Would you like me to fasten young Delectatio to it, or should I call for one of my sons to take the part of demonstratee? As you wish! Perhaps you would like a glass of tea in the kitchen while I strap him onto the device, which will take but a few minutes." "Adinfinitem! Come here! Ah, there you are, son; please take Mistress Almamater to the kitchen with you and make her a pot of tea, while I attach her boy to the Pony, there's a good lad. I'll call you when we're ready. Mister Nildesperandum, here is a good opportunity for you to see how this device is operated. First, we take the little chap's tunic off, that's it, just unlace the collar and cuffs and slip it over his head, yes, that kind of fine hair does tend to go everywhere, doesn't it. Now, boy, bend over the device and put your hands into these shackles – it's all right, they adjust at the wrists, I'll do that for you." "Now, at this point, Mister Nildesperandum, I suggest a ball-gag from the cupboard – one of the ones you were inspecting earlier should be of a suitable size. We wouldn't want Mistress Almamater's tea to be interrupted by the shrieks of her nine-year-old here, now would we? It unclips at the back, you see? Then the ball goes in his mouth, like so 3; and then the leather strap clips back together behind his head! Excellent. Now for the rest of him!" "Before shackling his ankles, we must remove his britches. I'll just reach around the front and unlace them, and now it's simply a matter of pulling them all the way down 3; and off! These lace pantaloons can be removed as well – it appears that Mistress Almamater has been spoiling her son by permitting him to wear them. Off they go! Now, before we affix the ankles, we must ensure that the boy's cock and balls are not crushed under his hips – that would not do! I do not wish my devices to get a reputation as emasculators – unless I intend them to be, of course! Just pull them downwards between his thighs, there's a good chap! As you can see, once the boy's ankles and wrists are secured, his wriggling and jerking about avails him naught – he is fully immobilised." "What a delightful bottom young Delectatio has! Firm, narrow, and unblemished! See how the Pony makes the lad's posterior stick right up in the air? Yes, by all means, run your hands over his cheeks, and you can judge for yourself how securely he mounts the Pony. Hmm, I can see that Mistress Almamater has been far too lenient with the boy. He flinches at the slightest touch, and there are no scars whatsoever on his buttocks or upper thighs. Hand me that flagellum, would you my good man? Perhaps a couple of practice strokes are called for. One! Two! Look at those weals come up! Three! Well, maybe one more?" "Now you can see the result of a properly-administered whipping – see the criss-cross pattern, going from one cheek right over to the other one? And these little indentations made by the burrs? Do you know, I can tell when one of my own flagellae have been used on a boy's asscheeks just by looking at the distance between the indentations and the width of the thongmarks? Oh, it's an art. An art, I tell you." "I'll wager you a crown that this boy is a virgin. Oh, I can always tell. Let me lick my finger and insert it up his nicely positioned asshole, that's a sure determinant. See how his back rears up against my finger? Notice the way his thighs try to clench as I push the finger deeper still? Oh, I must have this boy, Mister Nildesperandum. The flaring red marks of the flagellum across his comely ass have inflamed my senses! Please, take the flagellum as I unbind my britches. There! You see? My cock springs forth, already hard! Now, to part his little cheeks, and 3; thus! My prick invades his boyish sanctum! I wish I could remove the ball-gag and hear his wails, but we must be cognizant of our surroundings! His anus clenches at my rod, even as I plunge into its depths! I am sure I will not last even thirty strokes! Oh, yes, Mister Nildesperandum. Yes, he is magnificent, a fighter all the way. Oh, yes! Utterly divine! Oh, my word! Oh, I'm seeing stars, oh, oh, ahhh!" "Now we have the problem of leakage from his asshole – my discharge, and perhaps a little of his blood. But I have solved this on many previous occasions: would you be so kind as to find a buttplug in the cupboard – about the length of your thumb will be sufficient – why, thank you sir, that will do most admirably. Now, to insert, wipe off his thighs, and 3; Oh, Adinfinitem? Would you bring Mistress Almamater back in here please?" "Ah, Mistress Almamater, I trust you are refreshed, and that Adinfinitem has looked after you satisfactorily? Excellent. Now, young Delectatio has been strapped onto the Pony – would you like to give his bare bottom a few strokes, to see whether you are satisfied with the fit? Mister Nildesperandum, please hand Mistress Almamater the flagellum, there's a good fellow." "Oh, my dear Mistress Almamater, that will not do at all! I'm sure the poor boy hardly felt those lashes! You must not allow your maternal feelings, admirable as they may be, to get in the way of administering a proficient flogging! Your son would not thank you for it – he expects to be thrashed, and you must not let him down! Please, let my son perform the task – he has big strong arms and shoulders!" "You see the difference that practice, and a little upper body strength makes? Notice how Adinfinitem shortened his stroke, to allow the end of the thongs to curl around your son's bottom and strike the back of his scrotum and the underside of his penis? Real artistry. I'm sure you saw that he also changed the angle of his arm, so as to make every fourth or fifth stroke fall exactly in the crack between his cheeks." "Oh, that little object protruding from his anus? It is a buttplug, Mistress Almamater, an essential in cases like this – it prevents the boy from assaulting you with his flatulence while he is being disciplined. It comes with the Pony, with my compliments, as does the flagellum." "I'm so glad we could do business today, Mistress Almamater. I'm sure you won't be disappointed in your purchase. The mere sight of it should be enough to bring young Delectatio to heel. Incidentally, I forgot to ask what offences he has been committing lately to require your visit to my establishment today. Oh, so nothing in particular, just a generalised malaise, a slight tardiness at his chores, some daydreaming 3; Oh, yes, you've certainly got to nip these faults in the bud, upon my word! Adinfinitem, please unshackle Delectatio from the Pony and lay him in the back of Mistress Almamater's waggon – yes, on his stomach is probably a good idea 3; yes, his clothes as well, perhaps under his head as a pillow 3; and the Pony too, yes 3; make sure you secure it well 3; Thank you again for your patronage, Mistress Almamater, and remember, if you ever need him to wield the whip, Adinfinitem is also at your service!" "Just as one departs, another arrives! Welcome to my humble establishment, Mistress Exgratia! I trust that you and your family are well? How are your sons, if I may ask? Exnihilo, he is the eldest, as I recall? Still lazy, is he? And your middle boy, Exofficio – has he outgrown his lust for self-pleasuring yet? I seem to remember you telling me that he spent every waking hour with his hands down the front of his britches! Ah, yes, boys will most certainly be boys! And your youngest, Expostfacto – now there is a lad that may amount to something great, if only he is set upon the right path! I trust he is no longer trying to personally impregnate all of your farm animals 3; oh dear 3; I see 3; well, there is hope for all of them: please come and inspect my latest correctional device." "I call it simply The Doorframe. As you can readily observe, it is shaped like an open doorway, with braces for support, ankle and wrist restraints, and adjustable tension. In this way, it is suitable for a wide range of sizes, such as you have among your boys. But I see you have not brought any of them with you – would you permit my son to substitute for them on the device? Oh, Adinfinitem? Can you assist us please, with a demonstration of the Doorframe? Thank you so much!" "Yes, my son, just lay your clothing by the side. Now, as you would expect, Mistress Exgratia, the device is best used with a naked subject, and my boy Adinfinitem will serve to show us how it can be utilised. See how he is able to secure his feet, and one hand, but not the other? When I secure his free hand, even he cannot then remove himself from the device. Your sons, once thus immobilised, will be unable to move so much as a finger." "Why yes, my son is well muscled, how kind of you to notice. His back and shoulders show the years of hard work he has invested with me. Narrow waist, firm buttocks, thick thighs and calves – but Mistress Exgratia, do come around to the front side, to obtain the complete picture. Ah, yes, here we can see the bulging pectorals, the rippling abdominals, the hard laterals, and 3; oh, well, of course, modesty forbids me from boasting, but honesty compels me: my son definitely inherited his prodigious manhood from his father. In repose, it is formidable; when erect, awesome! It has been compared favourably to the forearm of a ten year old boy!" "Below it, you can see the scrotum and balls of a bull! Why Mistress Exgratia, many is the time I have been stopped in the street by some widow or other, to compliment me on my son's prowess in bed! The copiousness of his discharge! The heat of his ardour! The stamina of his loins! The unflagging, relentless pumping of his hips as he drives these ladies to ever greater heights of ecstasy! It only amazes me that no-one has yet snared his hand in marriage, for he surely would satisfy the most demanding lady. Perhaps he prefers to cling to his dear old father in his dotage, as a good son should! And did I mention, that should you purchase this particular model, Adinfinitem will not only deliver it personally to your farm, but will erect it himself in whatever location you desire. And what is more, if it is your wish, he will introduce its use to your three sons. Adinfinitem has a mighty arm, and it is said that nothing arouses a young man's passions like a good thrashing." "Of course, as a well-disciplined boy, he has learnt to control himself in the presence of a lady. But should you wonder whether my words are simply those of a proud father, and perhaps liberal with the truth, then may I tell you, the sleeping giant between his legs may be awakened with a few light strokes of the cane! Here, take this light birch rod, and prove my words!" "As you can see with your own eyes, his organ rears up to its full girth and length in only moments! See how it throbs, in time with his heartbeat! Observe the thick veins along the length of it, supplying rich teenage blood to the rigid monster! Notice the bulbous purple head, as it emerges from its sheath! See the 3; Oh, you would like Adinfinitem to deliver a Doorframe to your farm right away? Certainly, Mistress Exgratia, I'm sure he would like nothing better than to service your requirements instantly." "But if I may be so bold as to beg a small favour? I fear that spending so much of his time in this gloomy establishment has deprived Adinfinitem of the sunlight that a growing boy's body needs to fully develop – so if it would be no bother, could you allow him to erect the Doorframe naked? So that he can enjoy a small measure of wholesome rural sunshine before his return. And Mistress Exgratia? It may take Adinfinitem several hours to travel to your farm and complete the erection of the device: I fear that he may not be able to return while it is still daylight, and he is only a boy after all, I would not wish him to attempt the road at night. So if you should decide that the evening approaches quickly, I would be most obliged if you kept him at your farm overnight, and he can complete his return journey tomorrow. You will find him a most biddable guest. Good day to you." "So, my friend, it appears that you have arrived on a commercially satisfying day – two sales thus far, and a virginity into the bargain! Not to mention a very promising farm visit for my son Adinfinitem! He is certainly a chip off the old block, that boy! Mind you, good sons do not simply pop up out of the ground – years of training, that one, but now he is finally reaping the rewards that are the just results of his efforts!" "Alas, would that I could say the same of my other son, Adastra! Oh, yes, I realise that Adastra is still young, that it is unfair to compare him to his older brother, but at the same age, Adinfinitem had already begun producing a thick, manly discharge from his cock, and was regularly servicing no fewer than three village girls and a young widow! Poor Adastra would much rather 3; recite a poem to his mother, than woo a young village lass! But let me call him, and you shall see for yourself. Tell me whether I am judging the boy too harshly, I will value your opinion, yes, even the opinion of a man of the City." "Adastra! Come here, boy! Oh, where is that slow-footed dullard? Probably gathering flowers, or singing songs, or some other such nonsense, with that little playmate of his, Tempusfugit. Mind you, that Tempusfugit can be a little imp at times! I suspect he has designs on poor Adastra – often have I rounded a corner of the house, only to find Tempusfugit quickly pulling up his britches, with a guilty smile on his cheeky face. I think the little devil practically lives here. He certainly takes his afternoon nap here, in Adastra's very bed, which is not exactly big enough for two. But my wife tolerates his presence, so I keep my counsel to myself. Although, one day, if I catch him with his britches down again, I'll 3; " "Ah! Here you are, you young rapscallion! And I see you've got young Tempusfugit with you, as usual. Very well. Adastra, this gentleman is Mister Nildesperandum, a dear friend of mine from the City. I have been telling him all about you, and your brother, and our shop. Strip off your clothes, please Adastra, so that I can show my guest what I was talking about. Tempusfugit, you stay here by my side, I may need you." "Now do you see what I mean, Mister Nildesperandum? He has so many shortcomings, it is difficult to know where to start! The hair. He wears it excessively long, just to annoy me, but his mother permits it, so 3; Then there are his large green eyes, and the long eyelashes, I ask you! Those pouty, unmasculine lips 3; the round face – it matches his shoulders, which are always slumped! Look at those nipples – a boy should be ashamed to have such large paps, shouldn't he? And his hips are far too curved for my liking!" "Turn him around, please, Mister Nildesperandum, we may as well get the full horror over with all at once. Just take a look at that set of buttocks! Those are not the tight, square bumcheeks of a boy, are they? Yes, get a feel of them, satisfy yourself of the truth of my words – They are rounded and plump, almost saggy 3; oh, now, look, it's as I feared – one touch of a hand on his ass, and his cock springs to attention like a palace guard! Absolutely no self-control whatever! And just feel how spongy his balls are, will you? I blame myself, Mister Nildesperandum, for not taking a firmer hand with him. I have not practiced what I preached." "A virgin? This one? Do you mock me, sir? There are no virgins in this household, I'll have you know! But, I take no pride in that statement, for I know what young Adastra has been up to – many's the time I have sent him on errands about the village, delivering this or collecting that, only to find that he has not returned until the following morning! And what has he been up to? I would like to say that he has been pursuing girls and women, but alas, I cannot! It is the fathers and older brothers of said girls that he has been cavorting with!" "My life is not already replete with enough misery, but I cannot walk down the street without one gentleman or another complimenting me on the pleasures of Adastra's bottom! They take great delight in tormenting me with their exploits, how they ravished his ass, how he wailed with passion as he writhed under them! Yes, I know, I should take the ill with the good, and content myself that Adinfinitem is such a proud cocksman, and that I have at least one son who will extend the family lineage, but 3; " "What? Kiss him? What kind of City perversion is this? Kiss a boy? My dear Mister Nildesperandum, it is my practice to generously give my wife a peck on the cheek at Christmas, and perhaps on her birthday, should I remember it, but to kiss a boy on a working day? Oh, well, if you must!" "My dear fellow! I hardly expected you to kiss him on the lips! But what on earth are you doing now? Is that 3; your tongue? Oh dear! I feel quite faint! Well, yes of course, hug him if you must, but I cannot see 3; well, naturally I can hear the boy pant and gasp, I am not deaf – making Adastra gasp with sensuous ardour is no great achievement, from what I have been told! As difficult as making a fish swim! He's probably just out of breath, the way you have been smothering his mouth with your lips I'm not surprised!" "Now, that is so unkind of you, and quite unjustified! I am not an old fuddy-duddy, I absolutely refute that suggestion! I am as open to new ideas as the next man! I am even prepared to show you! Tempusfugit, stand here in front of me. Now, let us remove your tunic, just slip it over your head, that's a good boy. Present your lips for kissing, young man!" "Well, I confess, the sensation is quite unfamiliar to me, and not totally unpleasant. In fact, I expect I could quite get used to it! Tempusfugit! Let us duel with our tongues!" "My goodness, but you are either an extraordinarily quick study, Tempusfugit, or you are already adept in this practice – I feel quite the beginner in your hands! I see Mister Nildesperandum is running his hands all over Adastra's body while he kisses him – let us also try that, and see whether our passion heightens. No, let me undo your britches for you – it's the least I can do. There they go – now you may step out of them. Just leave them there, that's the boy. I see that our kisses have raised your little flag – it's a jaunty little fellow, isn't it, and your balls hand nicely below. Let us kiss further, I feel a need for more practice if I am to approach the proficiency displayed by Mister Nildesperandum!" "Well, I certainly concede that running the hands around a boy's naked body while kissing him does have the effect of increasing the tender emotions – and I am beginning to suspect what you two young rascals have been up to all this time! Don't deny it, Tempusfugit, I can tell when a boy is lying, you know! You and Adastra have been consorting under my very roof! Well, it is fortunate for you that I am a tolerant man. Now that I have discerned your little secret, there is no need to hold back." "What new perversion from the City is this, Mister Nildesperandum? What on earth makes you think that a boy would willingly take your cock into his mouth? And why, for heaven's sake, would you want to allow him to do so? Don't you know a boy must be thrashed into accepting a cock up his bum? It is a well-known fact." "Has the world gone mad this morning? Adastra has untied your flies and is devouring your cock as a starving dog would maul an old bone! And he appears to be getting quite a measure of personal gratification from doing so! I suspect you had something to do with this, Tempusfugit! Have you and my son been performing this 3; this act 3; upon each other? So. Now the veil has been lifted from my eyes! It is your turn, Tempusfugit, to show me what is so special about this 3; activity 3; that it causes Mister Nildesperandum to gasp and groan like a dying man, and writhe all about in his chair." "Yes, just undo the laces boy, then pull down on my britches. Yes, I know it is big, we are well beyond the point at which you need to flatter me, we are engaged upon a quest of discovery. Yes, you may use two hands, boy. I daresay you have practiced this art upon Adastra many a time – here is your opportunity to convert me to the ranks of 3; what do you call this performance? A 3; blowjob? But there is no blowing, is there? Adastra does not appear to be blowing – he is licking and kissing and sucking, but not blowing – Mister Nildesperandum, is Adastra blowing? There! You see? Foolish name for a 3; oh, my! Oh! Oh dear!" "I am sorry, my dear fellow, I didn't hear what you said. For a few minutes there, I believe I was transported to Paradise itself! Without ever leaving my chair! I must also apologise for my earlier incredulity – either Tempusfugit here is an expert at this marvellous art, or it is the most wonderful of activities ever devised by the mind of man; and quite possibly both propositions are true! Now, you said something about taking Adastra to bed – but my dear fellow, it is barely past mid-morning!" "Ah! Of course, what was I thinking? You wish to continue your dalliance with Adastra in comfort – by all means, my good fellow. In fact, Adastra's bed is probably too small for the two of you – please use Adinfinitem's bed instead – it is rarely slept in these days. I have heard from many in the village that Adastra prefers his bottom to be penetrated from behind while kneeling on all fours, but I'm sure he will acquaint you with his favourite positions. Come back down for lunch in a few hours, there's a good chap." "And as for you, young Tempusfugit, what am I to say? It now appears that I have wasted my life, devising and perfecting various means for torturing boys, in the belief that it was necessary to force boys into obedience with the threat – and the actuality – of pain. But now, I am completely turned around on the matter! I now see that boys respond equally well to pleasure! Listen, you can hear Adastra's bliss even through the floorboards!" "I shall utterly change the modus operandi of my establishment! Henceforth, I shall only create and sell devices that induce pleasure, excitement and happiness in boys, not pain and suffering! And you, Tempusfugit, shall be my chief product tester! Come with me to my bed, and we shall match Adastra and Nildesperandum wail for wail, moan for moan. Leave your garments on the floor – you will not be needing them for quite some time!"
The End |
#3
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Author's noteThis story is completely true. The names have been changed, of course. And the locations have been altered a little. And the facts, well, I had to change them quite a bit to cut out the boring stuff. Oh, and the dates, they're all changed too. And the ages. But everything else is true. So – this is for adults only: no kids! If you're a kid, you shouldn't be reading this, you should be jacking off in front of a webcam or something.
This story is dedicated to all those kids who jack off in front of webcams. But there are no webcams in this story. I had to change that bit. |
It was hot. Really, really hot. Me and Shawn were up in our treehouse. Well, it's his treehouse, really. Well, it's not really his treehouse either, 'cos it's over the other side of his back fence. Nobody really owns the tree. But the ladder is in his back yard, so it's sorta his treehouse. There's a kinda gate in his back fence, so anyone who wants to climb his ladder to the treehouse just goes through his back gate. Saves them from going all the way around to the front of Shawn's house. We woulda gone to the swimmin' hole, 'cept Shawn was grounded. His Mom said he had to stay near the house for two weeks. He couldn't even come over to my house. I live next door. I'm Tommy. I'm eleven – I'll be twelve in only seven more months. Shawn's already twelve – it's really cool that he lets me hang with him. Since Shawn was grounded, there was nothin' to do. Nothin' 'cept sweat. Then I had an idea! "We could play cowboys and indians?" I suggested, looking to see a reaction from Shawn. "Nah," he replied. "Ya gotta run around too much in cowboys and indians. Chasin' each other. It's too hot. Besides, all my cowboy stuff is in my bedroom, and if I try ta go get it, Mom will prob'ly give me some chores to do, seein' as how I'm grounded. She don't want me ta have any fun." When we played cowboys and indians, Shawn was almost always the cowboy. That's 'cos he liked tyin' me up and stuff. He played the cowboy really cool – he never hurt me when he caught me – not much, anyway, just a bit to make it real. But I didn't mind, not really. I had another brainstorm! "What about cops and robbers?" I offered. I was just making ideas, I didn't really want to do cops and robbers, 'cos I just had a big drink of water before, that my Mom gave me 'cos it was so hot. When we played cops and robbers, Shawn always had to be the cop, 'cos his dad was a cop, before he got divorced from Shawn's Mom and went away. When we play cops and robbers, Shawn always captures me and ties me up and tries to torture a confession outta me. His way of torturing me is by tickling. That makes me, uh 3; pee myself. I hate that. It makes me feel like a baby. But Shawn always knows when I'm, uh, close to doin' it in my pants. Sometimes he stops in time, but sometimes he, uh 3; keeps goin'. "Nah," Shawn muttered. "My guns 'n cuffs 'n things are in my bedroom. Anyway, I'm bored with bein' a cop." We looked out the treehouse window to the vacant lot. It was so hot, the air sorta 3; shimmered. Then Shawn said, "Hey! We could play Aliens 3; ?" We never played Aliens before. Maybe it was a new game Shawn thought of. "What's that?" I asked him. "Well, I seen this guy on TV last night. He told the F.B.I. he got abducted by aliens. He said they probed him to find out all about human weaknesses, so they could invade Earth, and make slaves of all the humans. He was pretty convincing 3; " I wondered a bit about what Shawn had said. If it was on TV, it must be true. And this guy was on TV, Shawn said. "So, how do you play?" I asked cautiously. Sometimes Shawn's games could get kinda, er, rough. He usually liked to tie me up and stuff like that. Which is kinda fun, now and then. But not always. "Well, if we play, you gotta play properly 3;" Shawn warned me. 'Playing properly' was a kinda code we had. It meant nobody could stop part-way through – ya hadda see it right the way to the end, even if ya didn't like it. But no tattlin' to your Mom. And whatever the other guy did to ya, you could do it back to him. "Now, let's see 3; since I was the one what saw the guy on TV, I reckon I should go first. Bein' the Alien, I mean. You can be the guy what gets probed," Shawn decided. "How 3; how do I know what to do, like? I never saw the TV guy," I pointed out. But that detail didn't seem to bother Shawn – he just said I hadda 'act nacheral', and it would be okay. Shawn's idea of 'acting nacheral' usually meant I had to pretend to be frightened and stuff. Only sometimes it wasn't pretend. "Uh, okay," I agreed. "What do I gotta do first?" Shawn had this look on his face like he was thinkin'. "Well, the guy on TV said he was asleep when the Aliens came. So I guess maybe you should lie down and go to sleep." 'Go to sleep' was another one of our code words. See, when we're playin' a game, sometimes one of us has to be allowed to do stuff to the other one without any, uh, resistance, like. So when we say 'go to sleep', you don't really go to sleep, you just hafta pretend like you are. I dropped to the floor and put my head on my arm, like a pillow, and started breathing slow and heavy, like I was asleep. Shawn sat next to me, and just ran his fingers through my hair. It felt kinda funny, but maybe the Aliens don't got any hair, and he was wonderin' what it was. Shawn is clever like that. He knows all kindsa stuff. He pulled my hair back from over my ear, and stuck his finger in. Not far, only a bit – it didn't hurt. Then he put on this 'Alien' voice. Only he sounded more like a robot. "I 3; Am 3; Probing 3; You 3; Earth 3; Boy," he said, real strange, like. "But 3; First 3; I 3; Must 3; Find 3; Where 3; To 3; Stick 3; My 3; Probe," he went on. He wiggled his finger in my ear a bit longer, then he tried my nose. Lucky for me, it felt like it was his little finger, not the one he put in my ear. I wondered for a second whether he picked his own nose with that finger, and I nearly laughed. But you're not s'posed to laugh when you're asleep, so I clamped my mouth shut real tight. Shawn couldn't get his finger very far up my nose, even his pinky, so he quit. I think he wiped it on his shorts – I couldn't see 'cause my eyes were shut. Then he said "You 3; Must 3; Have..An 3; Opening 3; For 3; Nutrients 3; Earth 3; Boy – You 3; Will 3; Open 3; It..Now" I guessed he wanted me to open my mouth. I sure hoped he wiped that finger. I had my head on its side on my arm, so I let my mouth drop open, like I was still asleep. Shawn stuck his big finger in my mouth, and kinda pushed my tongue around. I couldn't help it, my tongue licked his finger, automatically like. Shawn made a kind of grunt, then pulled his finger out of my mouth. I didn't have any openings left, so I didn't know what he was going to do next, where he was going to probe. "What 3; Is 3; This 3; Puny 3; Earth 3; Clothing?," Shawn said, grabbing my shirt and slowly pushing it up my back. I knew he liked running his fingers over my back when he 'tortured' me, when we played cops and robbers, 'cause I was pretty ticklish. He pushed my shirt right up to my shoulders, and moved his fingers all over my back – I guess he was looking for another opening to probe. He ended up pushing the shirt over my heads, then he dragged it down my arms and all the way off. That was okay. We took our shirts off heaps of times in the treehouse. And Shawn always took my shirt off when he was tickling me, when we played Cops. Then Shawn grabbed the waist of my shorts. "Another 3; Puny 3; Earth 3; Garment," he said, in that fake Alien voice. We had pulled our own pants down in front of each other lots of times before, so it was no big deal, not really. But Shawn never pulled my pants down before, so when he grabbed them and dragged them down to the bottom of my, uh, buttcheeks, I sorta felt funny, you know, like he was doing something sexy to me. But it was only my shorts – I still had my undies on. "More 3; Earth 3; Garments," Shawn said, in that robot voice, and he pulled my undies down to where my shorts were, just at the top of my legs. He had seen my butt before, when we played cops and robbers – 'cause sometimes he said he had to whip my ass, to make me confess. Not hard, like, just enough to 3; you know, hurt a little bit. When he did that, he made me stand in the 'frisk' position, you know, the one where you lean against the wall with your arms and legs real wide apart? Only now, I was lying on the floor. I could feel Shawn grabbing my bare butt and squeezing it. He started breathing funny, I think he was just trying to scare me. Then he said he to take me back to his spaceship, 'the mother ship', he called it. I had to be blindfolded for this. Shawn said it was so I couldn't reveal any details to the F.B.I. later on. I think he got that from the TV show he watched. So he tied a strip of cloth over my eyes and around my head, we had used it before – he likes blindfolding me, to make it more scary I guess. Then he helped me to my feet, and led me to our beanbag, we had this old beanbag up in the treehouse, and he pushed me down onto it! I was a bit scared, I thought I'd fall on my face, but it was okay, he knew what he was doing. "You 3; Must 3; Be 3; Secured 3; In 3; Our 3; Mother 3; Ship 3; Earth 3; Boy" Shawn said. He was getting better at the Alien voice thing, he didn't sound as much like a robot now. I didn't know what he meant by 'secured', but when he took my hands and tied them over my head I figured it out. Shawn ties my hands when we play Cops as well, so I'm kinda used to it. "All 3; Earth 3; Garments 3; Must 3; Be 3; Removed" Shawn said, and he started pulling my shorts and undies down my legs. Now, we had played games before where we pulled our pants down a bit, but we kinda had this rule, see, that we never, ever, took them off all the way. See, anybody could climb up the ladder and look into the treehouse. Sally-Ann, who was Shawn's neighbour on the other side from me, was always sneaking up on us, trying to catch us doing something fun. If she saw us with our pants down, she'd tattle on us for sure, then my Mom would find out, and I'd be grounded for 3; well, a long time. I'd be shavin' before I ever got to do anything again. But we could always hear her comin', cause the ladder was kinda creaky. We always had time to pull our pants up, so long as they were only down a bit. Sometimes, if we were both, uh, jacking off, Shawn would make a noise exactly like the creaky ladder, and I would pull my pants up right away, in case it was Sally Ann, and he would laugh, especially if I got my wiener caught. Shawn's clever with sounds. It was sorta exciting to feel Shawn pull my pants down when I was blindfolded and tied up. He did it real slow, like. Down my thighs, then over my knees, down my shins, then over my feet and they were off, all the way. I never been totally naked in the treehouse before, but it wasn't so bad 'cause I was lyin' on my front, like, on the beanbag. My head was way down the other side; my, uh, butt was at the top, like, and my legs down the front. My toes could nearly touch the floor. Shawn grabbed my foot, and tied some rope on it, and then he pulled my legs apart and tied the other foot. It was about then that I kinda figured out where the Alien was gonna do his probing. "Another 3; Opening," Shawn said, and his Alien voice was getting better every time. He pulled my, uh, cheeks apart, and I guess he was lookin' right at my, uh, hole. Then he did something I never expected – he touched it with his finger! He kinda ran it all around, sorta poking it in a little bit, I guess it was his little finger. Then he said, in the Alien voice, "Need 3; Lubrication," and that's when he did the weirdest thing of all! He licked it! True! He licked my hole! He bent right down and put his face in my crack and actually licked my asshole with his tongue! Then he pulled my cheeks apart more, and ran his tongue all around, like he did with his finger! And just when I thought he might actually stick his tongue up my asshole, there was a scream from outside 3; "Shawn! SHAWN! Get your lazy ass in here this minute!" It was Shawn's mom, yelling for him, from her kitchen, I guess. Shawn yelled back "Coming, Ma," then whispered to me that he'd be right back. I guess he didn't want to piss her off any more than she already was, so he didn't really have time to untie me. I felt him get off the beanbag and climb down the ladder. I couldn't really move – he'd tied me up pretty good; Shawn knew his knots, all right. So I figured I might as well just wait for him to come back. I was pretty sure he'd come back. At least, I hoped he'd come back 3; .. But I shouldn't have worried. After a few minutes, I heard the ladder creak and that meant Shawn had come back. He didn't say anything – he was making this heavy breathing kinda noise, just to scare me, I bet. I got a bit scared sometimes when I had the blindfold on, and I'm tied up, and Shawn knows it. He deliberately tries to spook me by sneaking up on me, or making funny noises. Like he was doing now. Then he made a kind of groaning noise. I suppose Aliens groan, like anybody else. Then I heard a zipper. I couldn't remember if Shawn was wearing jeans or shorts – but maybe his Mom made him get changed. Then I felt him get onto the beanbag between my legs. He rubbed my butt like before, only slower this time, more gentle, like. Then I heard him spit, and I felt a warm drop land right on my asshole! He musta thought of a better way of wetting my hole than licking it. Then I felt the beanbag sorta move again, and I felt the Probe. I kinda guessed when I heard the zipper what Shawn was gonna do. I wasn't too worried – Shawn's wiener is only a bit longer than mine, but it's skinnier, about like a finger. And there was some spit on my hole, so 3; I could hear Shawn breathing as he lowered himself onto me, his wiener pushing at my hole. We never did this before, the most we ever did was jack each other off. Usually we just watched each other and jacked our own wieners off. But I didn't really mind – it was better than getting whipped, like Shawn sometimes wanted to do, to 'beat a confession' outta me, like cops do. Yikes! His wiener felt really big! It's weird how it feels bigger than it looks when it's going up your asshole. I tried to relax my butt, to let it go in, but it felt like a 3; baseball bat, maybe, it was that big! But I relaxed some more, and sweated a whole lot, and finally he pushed it all the way in. I thought I felt some hairs on my buttcheeks, but it must have been Shawn's shirt, 'cause I know he hasn't got any hairs yet. Then the Probing started. That was even worse than when he put it in! But the rules were, we weren't s'posed to complain, and I wasn't gonna, no matter how much it hurt. I only ever complained once, and that was the day Shawn tied that string around my wiener and pulled on it. That really hurt! So, Shawn started Probing me, in and out, and breathing really hard, I guess like an Alien, then groaning, then he started grunting, and he reached under my hips and grabbed my wiener! Shawn doesn't usually touch my wiener – but he likes me to touch his when we're jacking. So it was a bit of a surprise. I wasn't hard at first, I think 'cause of the pain, you know. But then my wiener got hard pretty quick, 'cause Shawn was sorta rolling it around while he was rubbing it, it felt really good. Then the grunting speeded up, it was like ugh 3; ugh 3; ugh, kinda, then he got a bit louder, then he pushed it all the way back in and held it there, and his hips just kinda shook. Oh yeah, his hand made me have a cum as well, lucky I don't make that stuff or it woulda gone on the beanbag. I thought he would untie me then, so I could have my turn of being the Alien, and doing it to him, but he pulled his wiener out slow, like, and I heard a noise, I guess he was wiping his wiener on a rag, we had plenty of those lying around, and he wiped my butthole, sorta gentle, like, and then he zipped up! I heard the ladder creak, then nothing! That was just like Shawn – he only thought about himself sometimes! So, I was lying there on the beanbag, my head down and my ass up in the air, legs tied apart, hands tied, wondering if I should try to roll off the beanbag, or if that would get me in a worse tangle, when the ladder creaked again. "Shit, Tommy, you're still here!" I heard Shawn's voice. "Sorry, I thought you mighta untied yourself by now. I woulda come back sooner, only Mom made me go down the shop for some bread and stuff." He started to untie me, and I could finally stretch my back and rub some blood back into my hands, and get that blindfold off my eyes. "And guess what?" Shawn went on. "While I was at the shop, my Dad came home! He's still here! Mom said he could visit for a while, she's gone to some bar down the road. He wants to meet my friends. That's you! Come on, get dressed, you gotta meet him!" As I pulled my undies and shorts up my legs, I had the weird feeling I maybe already did.
The End |