Message-ID: <12745eli$9807051833@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: "Edward Bangor" Subject: ST: "Terry" (2/4) (t/b f/m b/b spank bond tv toys) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Content-Type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1" Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <6nkojd$nak@news3.force9.net> (Note: This is a test upload to this NG. If I receive no response then I will return to ASSGM) Terry (2/4) Edward Bangor Story Code/s: T/b f/m b/b spank bond tv toys Comments/suggestions to: edbangor@hotmail.com Other Works by the author available at www.assgm.com include: "Scarecrow" "More Away Than Home" - both on going - "A Bit of Rough" (parts 1-25) "The Tales of Hampton Wick" (parts 1-9) "House of Hampton" (Unfinished: Parts 1-3) "Naked Sex Club" "Playing at War" (parts 1+2) "#5 Bush Street" and others. Some of these and others are also available on at www.nifty.org (all titles previously published by Acolyte Press and STARbooks Press) and Jimka (M/M spanking) archives Please check these archives before requesting missing stories be mailed. Thank you. WARNING: This story may contain descriptions of sexual acts between boys of various ages and/or men and boys. If this is not to your tastes, please leave now (unless you want to be educated and have an open mind that is!) The story is copyrighted by the author. Please do not distribute it to any newsgroups and/or web-sites without permission of the author. You may, however, send it to your friends in any form you wish, as long as payment is neither requested or received and no changes are made to this file. The story is fiction. Any resemblance to any individual, alive or dead, isn't intended but is a nice idea... = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Terry by Edward Bangor Chapter 07: Again "Hi-yeah Terry," said the young boy nervously, "can we play some more of those games we did the other night?" "Terry don't know," the teenager answered, "are you going to get al snotty this Time?" "Oh no. I'll do everything you say as long as you do the same for me afterwards." It seemed a good a moment as any to Terry to take his shorts down, so he did, leaving his pricklet to stand, flat against his belly. Just like the youngster's was. "Tell you what?" he said, "Why don't we start from where we left off with me sucking you and, then, when you're good and ready, you can show me how much you've learnt." With Donny's agreement, Terry got onto his knees before the boy and took his stiff Willie into his mouth. It was as sweet as ever and he sucked greedily on it. "That's great!" said Donny almost at once. "Can Terry do you now?" Terry had intended to argue but, once he'd started, he found he couldn't. And, while he got to his feet, the little lad, with his pricklet standing stiffly in front of him, got down to his knees in a perfect impression of the older boy's previous position. The little face beamed up as he prepared to take on the larger erection. The boy opened his mouth but his lips couldn't make it around the teenager's knob-end until he received some help. Once, however, he'd managed to get that far, he was eager enough to start sucking on his own. Still, Terry had a hunch that more could be done and, at first, he applied gentle pressure to the lad's head, coaxing him to take a little more of the length and then a little more. The tip hit the back of Donny's throat and he spat part of it back out again. With the boy behaving like he himself was no longer allowed, Terry forgot the other was only a youngster and grabbed a fistful of the kid's hair and yanked it forward, forcing him to take as much into his mouth as he could actually hold. Donny bolted a little but decided that he might as well do it the way the other wanted, as he'd promised. And, when Terry saw that the boy was resigned to his fate he relaxed a little, ready for some simple pleasure. "Go ahead, kiss it. Lick it all over." he said, "then you can start sucking properly." The little boy nodded his head in agreement, already knowing more than he let on and never, once, letting the shaft drop from his mouth. He tried to remember all the steps he'd been taught, with his lips and hands. Every couple of seconds he'd look up for the approval of the older boy which he soon got. Opening his youthful jaws as far as they would go until he could feel the swollen tip once more hitting the back of his throat. He wanted to suck a little more, all the way to the fuzzy balls, because that's what had been done for him. He tried his best but, eventually, he came to the position when he simply couldn't fit anymore in. When he tried he only gagged so was left with the option of trying to do the best with what he'd already managed. Donny only knew one way to suck on something so that's what he used. Closing his lips around the hard thing in his mouth, he pulled on it slightly. The sensation against his lips reminding him a little of sucking a stick of rock but that wasn't an overly unfair comparison either. The pricklet in his mouth tasted as nice as rock had done although the forward and back motion as it slid through his lips was something else. And, as for the way it throbbed whenever his tongue ventured close... Donny sensed something was changing. The pricklet in his mouth began quivering and the other boy had begun to act strangely, quivering and moaning, his fingers pulled on Donny's hair. "Almost there!" Terry gasped, more to himself than anything else. The words meant nothing to the little boy on his knees. All he knew was the way the other was very keen not to let him move his head too far back. Not that there was any danger of that for sucking the youth's prick was something of an adventure and he didn't rightly, know what was going to happen next. He herd Terry, moaning and felt his vibrations, so he sucked that little bit harder. Closing his eyes reel tight, he dropped a hand to his own lap and touched his own hardness the way he always did. Suddenly, right in mid-suck the lad felt the rod in his mouth start to explode. Terry was moaning and groaning as the hot cum began to pour down Donny's throat. He hadn't intended to make the lad swallow his cum and Donny was none to happy about it either as tears poured down his face almost as fast as the cum was going down his throat. When, at last, the fingers dropped from the top of the lad's head, Terry saw he had pulled out clumps of the lad's hair. Quickly he tried to comfort the lad, but Donny would have none of it. His face had turned a purplish green and his cheeks puffed up as he put his hand to his mouth and ran off into the bushes, retching all the way. Terry took his cue, and left. Chapter 08: Thief "You are to steel something from the NAAFI shop" It seemed to be the easiest of the instructions so far and Terry didn't hesitate to carry it out. Being in the middle of an army base the NAAFI shop had no need for security cameras or alarms so Terry assumed the task would be easy to accomplish so he could return to his more interesting activities. And, it did go perfectly until he was caught trying to leave. Then, as if that wasn't bad enough, the shopkeeper called Mr. Diamond as for her advice on how to deal with the situation. "Speaking from my own experience," his mother had said, "Terry think he should receive a sound spanking and then work of the money in the store." Naturally Terry didn't like this solution much but with the eyes of both adults glued to him there was little he could say about it. Still, he thought, the shopkeeper would hardly want to be put to so much trouble. unfortunately he was in for a surprise and not a pleasant one. "How quite right you are," said the shopkeeper, "Terry certainly would never commit the same crime twice after having my bare bottom spanked." So it was agreed. Terry was to remain in the shop until it closed a 5 p.m. at which Time the shopkeeper would bring him home. In the meantime, however, he was at the mercy of whatever the maan had in mind. As soon as Terry's mother had left the shopkeeper swept past the boy, locked the front door, and turned the sign to 'Closed'. "Right then boy," the shopkeeper said, "in the back, you've a sound spanking coming." A hand landed on Terry's shoulder and guided him through the storage area behind the store. The boy only took tiny steps until the shopkeeper's free hand whacked his backside hurried him scampering forwards. He was surprised how much it hurt, even through his trousers and he hated to imagine what it would be like once these were removed. Propelled into the large warehouse area where rows of shelves rose to the ceiling. The shopkeeper paused for a moment, then pushed the by towards a stack of crates. And, before Terry could grasp what was happening, the shopkeeper had sat on the crates, pulled him between his knees. Locking his legs around the boys, the shopkeeper held the boy firmly, and took hold of the smaller waistband. "No!" Terry squealed, "You can't please." No matter what the boy said it did nothing to prevent his trousers from descending. When he tried to grab them his hands were slapped away sharply with one hand while the other finished lowering the shorts to his knees. Frantically humiliated as he stood there with just his soon-to-be-lowered underpants covering his thirteen-year-old privates ashamed, somewhat absurdly, that the man was going to see how underdeveloped he was. "You can't! You're not my father!" he hollered in one last ditched attempted to keep his underwear. "No!" the man said slowly, "I'm not your father. But I'm, still going to spank your naughty bare bottom." A short tug of war followed, but it ended quickly when the storekeeper somehow got her hands behind the boy and gave his sensitive seat three or four hearty slaps. They burned so fiercely that, without thinking, Terry put his hands behind himself to comfort his rear and, before he knew it, his underpants had joined his shorts around his knees. His groin staring the man in the face. The storekeeper didn't seem the slightest bit flustered by the display. He simply spread his legs apart, took the boyish hips in her hands and moved him around to the side of her lap. "Lie down." he ordered and Terry nearly dove, across the knees in order to hide his embarrassment. There followed several moments of nothingness while the man took his time getting things settled. He moved the boy in to the correct position and pulled his clothing the rest of the way to his ankles, and then reached back up and pulled his arm up his back. Terry tried to move around when he realised his penis rested against a hot thigh, but he was pinned down too tightly. As embarrassing as it was, having someone he didn't know staring down at his bare bottom, he was more scared she'd be able to feel him hardening. Soon he had other things to think about. The shopkeeper didn't spank at all like his mother did. The man scolded him for a long time while he hung there with his bum up in his face. Although he only listened to a couple of minutes of it before switching off his ears. Then it started. Terry didn't know how anything could sting him so much as the storekeepers hand. He howled like crazy as his entire rear turned, quickly, to fire,. Then, it stopped. "You ready to learn you lesson?" he was asked. Terry answered the only way he knew how: "I'm sorry." he said, "I'll never do it again. Please don't spank me." The man listened carefully until he ran out of things to say, tucked him up tighter under her arm and then started slapping his bottom like it was possessed and needed the devil driving out of it. His palm was big enough to almost cover one cheek and he went from one to over repeatedly. Soon his entire backside was stinging. For a thirteen-year-old Terry knew how to raise a real ruckus while he was being spanked and did just that. He totally forgot his sense of modesty or what his penis was doing after the first ten, or so, slaps, even though he had stiffen against the thigh as he was rocked against it by the force of the blows. He pleaded and cried uncontrollably for a little while until it all went blank as the spanking continued. The boy wasn't really with it by the time the spanking finished. All he was aware of was that one minute he was sobbing and gasping for air over her lap and then, the next, he danced around the storeroom, half naked and holding his bottom. He knew the woman was watching him and smiling but didn't care. It felt good to rub himself but it was like using a drinking glass to put out a forest fire. yet, it was sometime before he realised that his little penis was halfway hard and only then did his modesty return and he try to return his clothing to its proper place on his person. "Leave them there." the shopkeeper barked, one hand threateningly held aloft, "you've a date with the corner of the store before you get dressed again. Now move." Terry, naturally wasn't in a position to argue and, leaving his shorts and underpants where they were, he hoped back into the shop and was escorted to a corner where he stood facing the wall at the back of the shop. It was only then that he realised what the man had in mind. He was going to put him on public display. "Please," he begged, "you can't leave me here." "I can," the man said, "and I'm going to. Now, you can either standing facing the wall with your hands on your head as a warning to others who might be tempted to steel from me or, we can go into the storeroom again and sort it out there. Which is it to be. The choice is yours." Of course, it was no choice at all and Terry turned his teary face towards the plaster and hoped no one would recognise him, or realise what he'd done. However, these thoughts were to be short-lived as a sign hung around his head proclaiming him to be a 'THIEF' and then told anyone who came into the shop - whether they asked or not - what he'd done and hoe he'd been punished for it as if the heavy shaping on his backside wasn't enough to make the latter obvious. There was one thing, however for which young Terry could be grateful and that was, given his current position, there was nothing to hold his shirt up and this dropping went somewhere to lessening his embarrassment. Still, it was while he was checking this covered him in front when he noticed his pricklet was half hard again with the knob-end peeking through the end of his foreskin. The memory of both the woman's legs rubbing against it and of little Donny's lips wrapped tightly around it, were both fresh in his memory. The storekeeper was at the front so Terry figured he could touch himself without being seen and did so, briefly. His hand, however, made the situation worse and soon his penis was at a full stand, clamping itself tightly to his belly where it remained for the rest of the Time he was to stand in the corner. This turned out to be worse than the actually spanking had been for, although his rear still stung from the woman's hand, being stared at and commented about as if he wasn't there, Terry found deeply humiliating. Behind him the storekeeper would exchange stories with various customers about how spankings should be, or had been, administered while, any children who entered would be taken up to him and shown what happened to a bad boy. Some of the braver ones, poking the bruised flesh as if to check for the fastness of red colouring though, thankfully, no one but Terry himself, knew this also kept him hard. Chapter 09: Relaxation That night, as he lay in bed, the spanking remained foremost in Terry Diamond's mind. Thankfully his mother had remained strangely quiet on the subject of what had happened in the NAAFI shop and, as Terry certainly wasn't going to bring up the subject, the evening had been rather a pleasant one, despite the aching in his backside and the stiffness of his penis. The latter of which Terry sought to relieve as soon as he was in bed. Shedding the pyjamas his mother now insisted he wore, Terry sat against the head of his bed with his fist firmly wrapped around his pricklet. His knees drawn up and spread, he closed his eyes in order to imagine the close cropped blond head, moving about between them, working soft, sucking lips up and down his hard length. At the same Time, his other hand crawled down, under his partly raised buttocks to play around his hairless testicles until this became too much of a strain as his passions rose. Swapping tactic without realising it Terry allowed his fingers to retreat down to his bottom. There he rubbed the redness that remained on his flesh simultaneously imagining Donny giving him a blow job while he was getting spanking, albeit gently. He could only take a couple of his own slaps before his flesh became too tender for him to continue and he had to stop. His hand, however, didn't remove, but remained where it was, stroking up and down the area he found most sensitive. Slowly they worked their way from the base of his testicles right down to where the mattress met his flesh in a sweaty dip. In the middle of all this was, of course the boy's arsehole and, after having passed over it a few Time he soon realised that touching upon the puckered little lips gave him some of the similar sensations to being spanked and wanked together. In order to continue his experiment further Terry had to rearrange himself somewhat, but once that was done, and he was bent over somewhat he found he could Time the movements of both his hands to gain the most delightful of sensations. Soon his body became covered in a thin sheen of sweat and it was this, rather than an actually need which first enabled the boy to push a finger into his own bottom. Then, remembering the sensation of the built in dildo-pants he'd been forced to wear he pushed his fingers in deeper until two of them were making fucking motions through his anus and he started to pant. Suddenly the light burst on and his Mother stood in the doorway having been summoned by the strange sounds. "Terry should have guessed you'd been up to something disgusting like this you little pig." Despite being rigid with both shame and fear the boy froze with his pricklet in his hand and with two fingers stuffed up his virgin rear. "I'll teach you." Mrs. Diamond threatened as she locked the door and pulled four cords from her pockets. "Lie down, face up." Wide eyed the boy did as he was ordered, relieved at not having to expose his rear for more chastisement. His mother grabbed his left forearm and pulled it up over Terry's head, making him cry out. Once it was snug against the appropriate bedpost she wrapped one of the pieces of thick hem around both the boy's arm and the bedpost, tying the knot as tightly as she could. "It hurt!" Terry whimpered. "Of course it hurts boy. You are to be stringently bound so you cannot interfere in the punishment Terry am going to administer. Understand." Sobbing back a tear, Terry Diamond answered in the way he'd been trained. "Yes Mother." Since the head of the bed was pushed hard against the wall the woman had to walk all the way around before she could get to the boy's other arm. Soon, however, she was yanking on his right arm with all the force she'd used on his left and had it tied in place. Moving to the foot of the bed the hefty woman jack-knifed sharply, and grabbed both of Terry's ankles. These were still tucked beneath him but, in one fell swoop, Mrs. Diamond pulled them open so the feet were close to the corresponding bedposts where they were quickly bound rendering the thirteen-year-old helpless. Powerless to resist as his mother sat heavily on the side of the bed next to him and leaned across him so he would be unable to see what she was doing. His definitive erection was swallowed by one of her huge hands that began to manipulate it far more vigorously than he had done to himself. All the Time she continued o masturbate the helpless boy the woman continued to reprimand him for doing the very thing she now did to him, cataloguing all the dire consequences of self-abuse. Terry, who'd been close to the edge before the unwelcome interruption, experienced his first orgasm quickly. His thin, boyish cum spurted from his pricklet over his belly where it was left to dry as the manipulations continued. The second wasn't far behind the first, with the third following on rapidly behind that, each a little less violent than the one which had proceeded it until the boy was feeling completely wrung out. Yet, his mother continued her ministrations for half-an-hour, wringing two more dry shudders from his exhausted body before she finally left him. Completely exhausted and with a rare red penis, Terry was then forced to sob his apologies for having been 'wicked and sinful'. The matter appeared closed after that for although his mother didn't untie him she did leave the room. However, just as Terry was getting used to the idea of having to sleep spread-eagled on his bed, his mother returned bringing with her, of all things, an overly large baby's dummy. Saying nothing, yet aware of the boys eyes upon her, she went to the foot of his bed and, once more bent herself across it. This done she reached forward with the dummy furthest from her fist. The round, plastic tip slid up the inside of Terry's left thigh until it came to the point where his legs came together. Not that the dummy stopped there. Continuing upward it sought out, and found, the one place it could go. Terry gasped as he felt the object butting against the entrance to his arsehole but he could do nothing about it as his mother increased her pressure upon the end and slowly, tortuously, screwed it in, passed his resistance. Slowly, but surely the boy's sphincter opened up around the widest part of the dummy until, with a flick of her wrist, Mrs. Diamond, could punch it home. Then, as soon as the two inch diameter section had entered the rest followed automatically, swallowed by the sphincter's natural responses until the base of the dummy pressed tightly into the crack of Terry's buttocks giving him his first idea of what it would feel like to be fucked. Chapter 10: Make-up By the Time he was released the next morning, Terry had become quite accustomed to the feeling of having something inside his young bottom and, once left alone to dress, he toyed with the idea of leaving the oversized dummy inside himself but he feared his mother would ask for it back. Coming downstairs a few minutes later he heard voices from the living-room. Voices that sent shivers up his spine. One, was his mother's and expected but, the other, wasn't, seeing as it belonged to the girl who'd initiated one of his first spankings. "About Time too," chastised his mother when he emerged through the living-room door resplendent in his brand new suit of clothes. "Now Terry can go to work." "But Mum - mother," Terry tried but it got nothing but a stern look. "You'd better do what Sally says, else you'll have me to answer to. Understand?" "Yes Mother." Satisfied the woman left her son in the capable, if scheming hands, of her new baby-sitter. "So, boy," Sally said once they were alone, "Do you think I'm pretty?" "Yes!" he relied thinking this would be the best answer. "Judging by your clothes you like pretty things don't you boy?" Looking down at the many frills that adorned his blouse, shorts and ankle socks, Terry could only agree. "Then come here." Slowly he walked across the living-room floor and, as he did, Sally held up her lipstick and said, "I'm going to make you look even pretty too." When he realised what she intended Terry jumped back again. "No please!" he said. Sally looked at him with a smile on her face, "What makes you think you have a choice in the matter. Either you let me put it on you or I'll make you." With that she quickly cranked down the lipstick, put the cap back on and started to walk towards the boy. Terry started to run out of the room but Sally was just too quick for him. She grabbed him by the arm and got him onto the floor, where she sat on him, holding his arms down with her knees. Terry struggled beneath her but, try as he might, he couldn't do anything. Eventually, he relaxed, and looked back up at Sally smiling down at him. "Oh you silly boy. You should have let me put the lipstick on you because now, as a punishment, I'm going to have to make you wear make-up as well and, see what Terry can do with your hair." She took a curling iron from the bag that had been hidden beside the sofa and plugged it in so it could heat up. Then, holding the boy's head between her legs, she took liquid makeup from the bag and started to apply it to his face. She could feel him trying to struggle and wriggle his head lose from between her thighs but, as she continued to apply the chemicals, she felt Terry's resistance start to flounder. And, when she opened her legs, the boy just lay there, defeated. Sally smiled and said, "That's a good little boy. You just lay there and let me make you pretty." Finished with the liquid makeup she put blusher onto each of his hairless cheeks. Then she held his eyelids closed one at a Time so that she could apply the bright blue eye-shadow. Next, she outlined his eyebrows with eye-liner and, put mascara on his eyelashes. "There," she laughed, "Now you look almost like a girl. Hold your lips together." Terry didn't do anything but stare at the lipstick held in front of his face. "Come on. Be a good girl for me because," her voice dropped to a whisper, "you wouldn't want me to tell your Mother you'd been bad now would you. Not after last Time." Terry held out for another minute before finally giving up the last of his dignity. Slowly, his lips moved from the pouting scowl, into the tight lines the girl wanted and, equally slowly, Sally brought the tube of bright red lipstick to his lips. "Pretty! Pretty!" she mumbled taking her Time applying the lipstick to the boy's lips as if he were a doll. When she'd finished Terry had a very thick coat of lipstick past the edges of his mouth all the way around, forming his lips into a more sexy shape than was naturally for such a young boy. Allowing the boy to sit up, Sally picked up the curling tongs and started on his hair. Due to its prior length she was able to take short runs of it into the curling iron until she'd framed it all into light bunches. Then, as a final touch she took one of the curls and tied in a large pin ribbon. Finished now, the baby-sitter helped her charge to his feet and exclaimed, "You look just like a little girl. Come on. Terry want you to see." Taking him by the hand Sally led him up to his mother's bedroom and the full length mirror in front of which she placed him. "This," she told him, "is what will happen if you are bad and disobey me while I'm here." Terry couldn't believe what he was seeing. It was his face alright but his skin seemed to have a soft glow about it. His cheeks were a soft pink and his eyes, pale blue. His eyelashes twice as long as normal and without he way the eyeliner contrasted made his eyes standout in a decidedly more feminine way. His lips glistened from the heavy coat of bright red while, his usually flat hair was a mess of curls with the ribbon cocked to one side. "So," Sally interrupted his thoughts, "do you think you look like a little girl?" "Yes Miss." he said honestly. "Good. Let's look through some fashion books." As they did this Sally continually asked for Terry's opinion until they came to a picture of a short pleated skirt and long sleeved jersey at which she announced, "that would be a good thing to dress you up in and make you really look like a girl." Terry blushed but said nothing well aware now, that his pricklet had started to harden the moment the girl had over powered him and had remained hard throughout the following degradation. Perhaps, he thought to himself, it wouldn't be so bad to be a girl. After all, girls didn't get punished as often as boys did. Chapter 11: Indians A couple of days later Terry, in order to keep out of Sally's way, listened to the doorbell ringing from upstairs and was surprised when he heard his name called. Obediently, he raced down to where the girl waited for him and asked, politely, what she wanted. "One of your little friends has just called for you, and as you've been so good recently I've decided to allow you to go out to play. However, before you go you will need to be dressed properly. Let's go upstairs and see what we can find." This didn't turn out to be nearly as bad as Terry has expected. There was none of the feminisation but, rather, the more macho appearance of a cowboy, complete with Stetson, jeans, waistcoat and a knotted bandanna around his throat. Somewhat please with this attire he was only too happy to go and find his young friend - whoever that might be and play, whatever they wanted. Terry followed the instructions he'd been given carefully and soon found himself heading back towards the frighteningly familiar surroundings of the Old Guardhouse. There, waiting patiently for him was, none other than young Donny. Not only that but the eleven-year-old was more than dressed for his role, although undressed may have been a more accurate description. "HOW!" shouted the youngster through the bushes. "Do you like my costume. Terry made it myself." "I'd never of guessed," answered Terry sarcastically, hiding his real feelings of envy for, despite being simply the other boy's clothes were very effective. In fact, Donny wore little more than a piece of elastic around his waist from which he had threaded a length of soft cloth between his legs and back out again so the two ends hung down over his loins and rear like a real breechcloth. Even his war paint, although amertishly done, did set of the lines of his well defined chest. As the younger boy walked over to where he'd entered the clearing Terry, for the first Time, realised just how brief the other's cloth was and asked, "Do you go around like that often?" "Of course," said Donny with pride, "But mostly down here." "Why? What's here?" "It's where we play all our games." the lad explained. Remembering what he'd been doing the last Time he'd been there, Terry asked, "What sort of games?" "You know, like 'war' and 'Cowboys and Indians' and stuff like that?" "You play these by yourself, do you?" "No, me and the others." suddenly Donny changed the subject, "Do you want to play Cowboys and Indians' with me?" Terry shrugged, "Why do you think I'm dressed like this? How do you play anyway?" "Oh, it's simple. Mostly, we just divide into armies and take prisoners and kill each other and stuff like that." "Won't it be a bit boring with just the two of us?" "NO, we could skip the first part and go into the prisoners bit. If you want to that is?" The idea appealed to Terry the instant the other boy had said it, for he too, didn't want to be bothered with all the running through the woods as this would be bound to make him dirty and he didn't fancy another of Sally's punishments. So, without waiting for another word to be said, he went into action. Donny didn't know what hit him and didn't stand a chance. The larger boy flew at him from a standing start and soon the pair of the them lay on the floor in an scrambling heap. Thankfully for Terry, the amount of punishments he'd been through had taught him something and he soon had Donny down on his front with his arms behind his naked back. From there it was an easy task to use the elastic around the boy's own waist to bind his wrists into the small of his back. "Got you?" he said helping the bound boy to his feet. "What you going to do with me now, pale-face!" teased the poor impression of an American Indian. "I think," Terry said even though he hadn't thought about it at all, "That I'm going to have to take you back to my camp and torture you." And, with that said, he circled behind the boy and prodded him forwards into the darkness of the Old Guardhouse. Not speaking again until they were safe from any prying eyes. "Tell me what you know?" he demanded. "I won't tell you nothing," replied the bound boy. "In that case, red-skin, you leave me no option but to spank it out of you and to spank it out of you on your bare bum." Contrary to the struggles Terry had envisioned Donny just shrugged, "Go on then. I dare you," the little lad said, "I dare you?" "Oh," Terry scoffed, "I dare alright." So it was that, for the first Time in his young life, Terry Diamond found himself undressing another boy. A boy who had his hands tied behind his back. Actually this made the job a little more difficult that the thirteen-year-old had imagined it would and, in the end, he had to give up his plan to remove all traces of Donny's costume. Still, that didn't matter too much as he removed the cloth itself which, rendered the lad naked before his eyes. "Now," he said, his voice a little shaky, "I am going to inspect the prisoner before punishment begins. Stand still." Taking his Time, Terry found a couple of boxes to sit on and placed them directly in front of his proposed victim. On these he sat and studied the form standing before him. Donny, he soon discovered, wasn't as immature as he had first though. Although the lad still had the high pitched voice of prepubertal boyhood his body showed the early signs that the changes had already begun. His nipples stood out, almost pointed in the heat of the moment, while, down between his legs, the area directly above his groin, although silky smooth, had the darkened appearance of a boy about to sprout his very first pubic hair. The genitals themselves, were rather small in size, even if some of that could have been down to the shrill draft that floated through the Guardhouse. The crinkled sac hug closely to the bottom of the slim length that, slowly and steadily, expanded the longer Terry stared at it. It was, however, the reverse view, that excited Terry himself. The very instant he had the lad turn around he felt his own penis spring hard against his underwear at the sight of the well rounded buttocks that, just begged, to be spanked. Forgetting all pretence at his game Terry urged Donny to lie face down over his lap not caring if the younger by could feel his erection pressing up through the fly of his denim shorts. Gently, but hurriedly, Terry ran his hand over the presented area, keeping it in tight to the dark valley nestling between them. He began to spank, gently at first, and then harder until Donny's buttocks bounced up and down on his lap. This, Terry found, caused a delightful sensation to flood through his own loins from the sea-saw motion of the body laying across them. Every so often, however, he found he had to stop so he wouldn't make a mess inside his underpants, but he made good use of this opportunity to stroke and caress the flesh he slowly reddened, still pushing his fingers into the soft, sweaty crack. "Ooooohhh!" the little lad sighed, "That feels brilliant. Spank me some more now. Then rub my bum some more." "You mean," blundered Terry, "You like this. You like being spanked?" "Sometimes." admitted the lad on his lap, "If it's being done like you do it. Go on, do it some more and I'll rub on your prick and make you feel good too." It was too good an offer for Terry to turn down, so he didn't. Knowing the other boy liked it really spurned him on and he tucked Donny further under his arm and started to really let him have it, smacking one side then the other, until all the twisting and turning this produced drove him over the edge himself and his thin boyish semen flooded into his clothing before he could anything about it. Chapter 12: Memories Me and my mate Billy were together all the Time before you came. Cowboys & Indians was one of our favourites games. Come to think about it, all our games involved some sort of war or other. Not that we actually fought: that wasn't the point of playing. We only played to lose, not win. Each game ended the same way. With prisoners being taken. Or rather, a prisoner being taken. We were fairly evenly matched even though he was taller and older than Terry was. So much so, that we took it in turns to be the captive and become tied up by the other. Then positions would be reversed, as we escaped. That was until 'Simple' Time came to the camp. Time always wore the same pair of shorts and these, well, they was much too small for him. He was a few years older than me and Billy - about fourteen I think - and the one place this really showed was his shorts. They were so tight you couldn't only see his balls but his prick an' all. Of course, it was much bigger than either, Billy's or mine and, although we never mentioned it, both of us was interested in seeing it up close. We thought we'd get our chance cos Time was a bit slow - you know - in the head and, this meant we could order him around and, he was bigger than us, so it gave Billy and me the perfect chance to be captives together. Terry was the first to be caught. A great big, spade-like hand descending on my shoulder before I'd even heard Simon's approach. Only thing was, Time didn't know what do next and shouted to Billy, to tell him. "Tie him up and catch me." Billy shouted back, "And hurry up, it's frigging freezing." "Should not be naked." Simon shot back after a minute or so pausing. He took two of the lengths of cord we'd provided him with from his pocket and bound my wrists and ankles. Then, when he was finished, he added, "Coming. Ready, or not." "At last." came the voice from the bushes. Simon didn't seem to listen. He behaved as he'd been told to, sort off. Like myself, if not more so, Billy didn't stand a chance against the much greater muscular physiques and an idea that I'd watched rise in the front of Simon's shorts until it showed a solid ridge, pointing northward. A large hand clasped Billy's upper arm. This unbreakable grip the first indication Billy had that things were no longer within his control. Meanwhile, Terry was reduced to being a helpless spectator as by best friend was lain somewhat roughly across a wooden bench Easily Simon stood astride it holding Billy face down over it. For a moment Billy thought he knew what would happen next, and revelled in the new twist. He placed his hands together through the gap between the back and seat, assisting their bonding there. His face showed a more concerned expression as his legs were spread apart. Nor was he entirely happy with the way his body was being roughly pulled about. There was little either he, or Terry, could do about it as his shins were tied off to the legs, some five feet apart. Then it was my turn, again. At Billy's head my feet were tied into the same rope that held his hands, while my hands were added to the cord hanging from the back of my friend's neck. This didn't however, get what Simon wanted but he soon rectified his miscalculation by raising Billy's head by the hair and pushing on my bum. As a result my groin was crushed into Billy's face. The ropes then adjusted to keep it there. Obviously - if you think about it - with the two of us trussed up like that, only Terry could see what Simon did next and, when Simon stripped himself his prick was every bit as big as I'd imagined. Soft, it was impressive enough, but, hard, he'd expanded to at least double that, if not treble, with a head of fiery red erupting from the withdrawn pink foreskin. With my imagination it didn't take me long at all to work out what Simon intended to do with what he had just unleashed. Unfortunately, for Billy, my body reacted in the only fitting way. One second he was breathing sweaty, urine dipped, testicles, and the next he struggled to swallow my dick, as Terry sprung an instantaneous erection. However, before Billy could get used to the familiar feel of my dick in his mouth he had one he wasn't so familiar with trying to bore him a second arsehole. Billy told me later just how much it had hurt to be fucked by the rampant teenager. Not just the hole itself but the entire area around it. Simon's fingers dug into his flanks, buttocks and thighs. The red hot telegraph pole of a prick rammed his tiny rear entrance. Billy squirmed about as much as his bonds would allow to make the process easier. So much so that Terry have no idea when he was actually entered. His oral movements on my dick were kept my eyes screwed shut, even though Terry had the perfect view of the cleft of his buttocks. Simon and Billy did though, they both felt the red, bulbous, damp, head of Simon's outsized erection as it forced its way through Billy's clenched buttocks and up into his rectum. On and on it went. Further and further in it travelled. Deeper and deeper it sank. Carrying on through until Terry was virtually face to face with Simon over the back of the boy we occupied. It only took the inexperienced Simon little more than a couple of hastily performed hip thrusts to complete the act of fucking his first boy. If only Billy had informed him that this was what he wanted all along. If only. Two words which always dominated Simon's life. Yet it was Simon who'd shown us the way forward. Simon who'd made our childhood dreams come true. Simon who'd given both Billy and Terry a taste of the pleasures of life. Simon who'd taken away all the safety nets we'd previously protected ourselves with. Simon who'd showed us how to do it right. And they called Simon Simple! Chapter 13: Puppy "Strip!" It was a simple instruction and one which Terry should have been expecting. In fact he had been expecting it. Expecting it with a mixture of dread and anticipation, since he'd first entered the house. Late. "Strip!" repeated Sally. "Take all your clothes off. You won't be needing them where you're going." It didn't sound so bad. In a split second his shirt was off and down came my shorts and underpants. He didn't speak, strangely enough wanting to impress the girl with his obedience. "Get down!" Terry lay with heels tucked tight under his bottom while Sally produced two large rolls of two inch wide, brown, parcel tape and a strange maze of leather strapping connected to a dog collars with embedded steel loops instead of a buckle. These were dumped on the floor in a steadily growing pile of some of the most interesting items he'd seen in a long while. A butt plug just like the previous one he'd worn only without the latex briefs. "Faster!" Sally barked swiping him across his exposed bottom so savagely the skin instantly changed colour. Despite being frightened of this new development, Terry soon relaxed at the professional way he was treated. With his legs bent at the knee the parcel tape was applied, liberally, first to his ankles and then to the corresponding thigh, effectively halving the length of his legs. Then, with his lower limbs secured without constricting his blood flow attention turned to his hands. These, Terry was told to make into fists with the thumb tucked around the outside of the fingers. The whole of the hand, from the wrist up, was then heavily coated in tape, making all his digits useless to me. "Stand up." Sally ordered. Terry nearly spoke, but managed to contain himself in time, giving his best puzzled' look instead. It worked. "Like a dog." It took a few tries but eventually Terry managed to roll myself onto what remained of his limbs, crouching just like the Puppy' he was obviously meant to be. "Very good." said Sally. She picked up a tangle of leather and started to straighten it, "Little Puppy dogs have a tendency to chew on things they shouldn't. That's where this comes into play. Terry bet you've been wondering about it haven't you?" Terry nodded. "Terry had it made especially in the camp workshop. Do you like it?" Terry nodded. "Then why don't you try it for size? Head up." Sally took over five minutes to fit the contraption while Terry took less than a split second to decide he didn't like it. The first applied, an inch diameter, solid section of rubber, fitted perfectly between the boy's teeth and was held in place by the leather web. These straps taking all Sally's time in adjusting. Before it was finished Terry was more than effectively silenced only then did he get to see the item the whole performance had been about. Gingerly Terry lowered his head down again as Sally snapped the long awaited collar around his neck. It was a perfect fit - tight, yet not choking - a small padlock at the back fastening it shut with a satisfying click. It also attached a length of chain which Sally now took up. "Right then, Puppy. Let's show you around. Heel!" The chain was yanked forward putting a strain on the back of his neck that would have made Terry cry out had he been able to do so. Instead all Terry could do was, stumble forward, lose his footing and fall onto his side. Sally wasn't impressed., "Naughty Puppy." she said, slashing his helpless rear with the free end of the leash, "One more time like that and it's a punishment for you. Now, WALKIES." Terry's first walk as a Puppy turned out to be a lot difficult than he'd imagined.. It wasn't just the way he controlled his bound limbs, but the gag made breathing difficult to boot. Then there was the demeaning comments Terry had to endure, as they left the house and headed into the woods. Comments that came from everyone they passed. Comments that mainly had to do with which bread of dog Terry was. Then, if that wasn't enough, the comments got more personal, as the girls circled him, until they were all about the size and operational aspects of his genitals and, how their current position - swinging down between his thighs - made his arse-hole look enormous. Objects were suggested which could be easily fitted into his hole. They started with the possible - a tin of deodorant - and ended with the impossible - an elephant's trunk. "What's the matter little Puppy?" Sally said, patting him on the head, "Do you want to play? We can find you a stick to fetch. You'll like that won't you?" Just as Terry was about to shake his head a young voice cut in. "He'd prefer it up his arse." The joke fell flat. "Who said that?" Sally demanded looking around. "Donny." she spotted the youngster, "Terry should have guessed it was you. Get the stick." The boy Indian ran away like a scared rabbit. Terry smiled behind his gag until Donny returned wit what looked like half a log and dropped it in front of his face. Sally, cuffed the back of his head. "Puppy doesn't want it yet. You're going to get it first. Strip!" Donny looked scared but there was no point in arguing. Terry watched, glad not to be the centre of attention, as a small circle formed around the disgraced lad. "If Terry were you," laughed Sally as Donny's costume was removed, "Terry wouldn't make jokes about the size of Puppy's privates. Not when you have next to nothing in that department yourself." Donny laughed, hoping to ease the situation. It didn't help. Sally wasn't finished yet. "However," she held up her hand for silence, and got it. "what about your bottom. How does that compare. Why don't you bend and spread, so we can check?" "No please!" the lad begged. "Are you refusing me boy?" The question confused him, "Yes - er - no! Terry... please!" "You remember what happened last time you didn't do what Terry wanted, don't you Donny?" His face fell. "Yes!" "Why don't you tell my friends then. So they'll all know!" Obviously no wanting to Terry told the story as quickly as he could, only to be prompted whenever more detail was needed anyway. Gradually the tale emerged of the small boy playing football, alone, on the sports ground when the girls turned up for their Ping-Pong practise. Sally had told him to leave but, being the new girl, she had yet to establish her authority and, to his peril, he didn't listen. The argument continue for sometime before, with their reputations on the line, the threats started. Of course, Donny had assumed hers had been empty threats, but they weren't. When he'd realised her intent was to carry out the summary justice she'd promised, he'd ran and made it halfway across the sport field before she'd caught him. Under one arm his torso had been pushed. Sally's right arm had made short work of his soccer shorts and underpants pausing only briefly before showering a rain of Ping-Pong bat blows down upon his rear until he was howling with all the might of his young lungs and his bottom glowed brightly. "Well?" demanded Sally once the story was concluded. This time it wasn't a question - everybody knew that - it was an order. With little more than a half-hearted sigh, Donny kneeled down, pressed his face to the ground, raised his hindquarters and used both hands around behind himself to pull his buttocks apart. The gang crowded in for a closer look. "Seems pretty small to me, but what do Terry know about boys' bottoms?" the girls laughed at their leader's joke. Sally waited until they fell silent before continuing. "No what we need here is an expert. Now where would we get an expert out here? Oh, yes Terry know." All eyes turned down to stare at Terry. "A Puppy. Of course, who else would know all about bottoms?" She patted his head. "Why don't you have a sniff and let us know what you think?" Terry waited until Sally pulled on his chain. Then, like the small dog he was supposed to be Terry trotted across the surprisingly level ground and peered into the gap between his friend's buttocks. A hand on the back of his head pushed his face closer until his nose was virtually touching the crinkled flesh. It smelt clean with a faint hint of soap but this was far closer than Terry wished to be, yet still he found it intriguing. "What does Puppy think?" Sally asked him, pulling the leash back. Terry shook his head, not really to answer his question, more to move away from Donny's arse-hole. "Is it too small?" Terry nodded, almost squashing his nose, for it was very small and he couldn't see how anything could ever pass through it. "Will it stretch?" Now that was a question going through his mind, just as it was Sally's. Thankfully his own experiences told him the answer. He nodded. "So Puppy thinks it will stretch. Anyone disagree?" No one dared to. "In that casually nudged the crouched Indian with her foot, "Donny spit on your finger and stuff it up your arse." Terry felt his penis click up a notch, at last he was going to see something he'd often done to himself. Right before his astonished eyes, Donny, unable to comfortably reach around himself, slid his hand between his own slightly splayed legs to put the fingertip right on that tantalising little hole. "As far as it will go," Sally broke the expectant silence, "we don't want anything half-hearted. Puppy wouldn't like that, would you Puppy?" Terry wouldn't, but couldn't say so, the horse-bit gag prevent me from dribbling over Donny's bum. A slight sweat had broken out on the eleven-year-old's body which undoubtedly made it easier for him to shove his right forefinger into his arsehole. Terry's eyes nearly bugged out of his sockets as the finger twisted itself into the expanding hole. The elder penis turned itself into a fully fledged prick the moment the first knuckle disappeared into that pulsating hole, and by the time the second one passed through Terry was dribbling enough pre-cum to turn the grass to mud between his legs. Then, Donny's hand spread flat against his bottom, his finger embedded just as far as it could possibly go. For the first time Terry was pleased to be restrained. Had he not been then he'd have been pulling on his dick hard enough to rupture himself. That is, if he'd be able to resist the temptation to ram something else into that delightful hole. Thankfully no one seemed to notice his discomfort. Or, so he thought. "So, Puppy was right." Sally patted his head again, "and, shall be rewarded." She turned to the boy with his finger up his arse. "But first Donny, you will, have to be punished for your previous transgression. Bend yourself over Puppy, but don't even think of moving your finger, understand?" He did and Terry was in heaven. If there was one thing Terry like more than looking up another boy's arse it was seeing a decent spanking, preferably bare bottomed. However, Terry was too be disappointed for he wasn't going to be able to see anything having missed one of the instructions. When Donny crawled, with difficulty to a position laid over his back all Terry could see was his hips and side. His head and shoulders pressed onto the small of his back, while the rest trailed out away from me. Terry couldn't even see his genitals for they were obscured by the arm still passing through his thighs. The so-called spanking' wasn't much better. Not only was it executed by stick rather than the flat of a hand but the blows were all gentle. Terry thought the idea of a punishment was for the one being punished to feel it. There was, however, one other thing Terry had forgotten about. It was up to Sally to remind me. He pointed with the stick: "Terry think Puppy is ready for his reward now." Thankfully no one questioned just why his prick was stiff and running. At least The Sons of Bitches' had come to terms with the way their bodies reacted to seeing one of their number humiliated. I'd definitely made the right choice in joining them. With some obvious difficulty - the canning must have been harder than Terry thought - Donny dragged his head and was about to right himself when the stick gave him an unexpected blow across the base of the spine that made him jump. "Where do you think you're going? You're Puppy's reward. Take the position." Donny shrugged his shoulders and got into his previous position, face down in the mud, bum up. Now it was Terry who needed Sally to explain what was going on. He smiled a queer sort of grin and explained. "You've seen excited Puppies in the park before haven't you? Excited like you." She pointed at his prick making it bob below his belly. "So you should know what they would do in the current circumstances?" Terry did, but he help by taking the stick from his prick and pointing at Donny's most exposed region. "This is what you have to do." Terry couldn't help a smile spread across his face, or would have had the makeshift muzzle not been there. Donny must have noticed this for he opened his legs and took his finger from the hole Terry was about to possess. Terry no longer needed any instructions. It wasn't an easy operation given his trussed limbs but like they say "Love conquers all." and by pushing his arms to their fullest extent Terry was able to raise his head and shoulders high enough to pass over the top of Donny. He lowered himself to make it easier and then he raised back up until our bodies touched. My heaving chest pressed into the slight curve of his back. Naturally that wasn't the only place we touched. My forearms clutched at his sides as his knees walked forward until his prick came into contact with the warm flanks. Now the tricky part. It took several long, anguished minutes as Terry rubbed his length around the crack until Terry could get it located in just the right spot. Once there it sank into the crease like a long lost friend. My hips jerked rapidly. Desperately Terry hoped it wouldn't tip over the top before Terry was inside. Thankfully, Terry didn't. "Easy!" the eleven-year-old yelped as Terry jabbed his testicles. Somehow he reached between his legs and guided Terry most wanted to be. The plump buttocks jammed back. The rosebud opened and swallowed Terry's whole length. With a barrage of rockets and stars exploding on the inside of his eyelids Terry went the full depth inside the boy. The, obviously experienced, sphincter muscle milking him for everything Terry was worth, and then some. Wave after wave of hot gushing sperm shot from his testicles with so much force Terry half expected it to come shooting right out of Donny's mouth. God, it was good, and then, suddenly, Terry was lying on his side in the grass. "Looks like Puppy needs to be sexed." Terry was trying to right himself without much success when Sally spoke. "Think I'll have to be the Vet - assistance please." The assembled girls seized his four bound limbs, rolled him onto his back and held him open for Dr. Sally's inspection which, not surprisingly, centred around his penis. "Who's a naughty Puppy then?" she asked taking the limpness between his thumb and forefinger like a spent condom. "Been doing naughty things haven't you? Still never mind, I'll can help you stop." Terry was more than a little worried. Sure, he'd enjoyed everything so far, but there had always remained that element of familiarity. Put bluntly, Terry was up shit creek without a boat, let alone a paddle. He had plenty of time to think about the problem as Sally's fingers moved to the end of his prick where he held his foreskin in a pinch. The main body of his prick made a hasty retreat down inside its protective sheath. This tube of skin was then wrapped tightly in packing tape, keeping it, as Sally joked, "Out of harm's way." His mind resembled itself as he rolled back onto all fours. Sally took up his chain as Terry trotted over to a nearby tree. Concentrating hard to keep his balance, Terry raised his hind leg and released his bladder. At first nothing happened. All eyes were fixed on the end of his prick where it swelled vulgarity out of its bondage. Then, just as Sally thought she'd tied the tape too tight out came a great steaming stream of dark yellow urine. Only just in time did Terry managed to get his leg out of the way and I'd never felt so relieved in his life. The girls cheered his successful urination and Terry was informed, by Sally, that it was time for the him to be put to bed. Terry scampered along behind his Mistress' with all the dignity his current predicament would allow, hardly even noticing the variable pains created by the contraptions he'd been fastened into. The most uncomfortable thing, surprisingly enough, was his own cum as it dried on his thighs gluing the tiny hairs on his legs together. Meanwhile, Sally chatted as if this were a Sunday morning stroll. The final destination came as a bit of a surprise. They broke from the clearing and into the court-yard of the cottage. Quickly passing around the building and into a seriously overgrown back garden. "Here," Terry was told, "Is your home for the night." Sally didn't point at the cottage but through a hole in the waist high undergrowth towards a patch of newly levelled grass, beyond which a small wooden construction loomed. "Go and have a look." He should have known better but Terry couldn't help myself and it wasn't as if he could be locked in, or anything which, he'd been afraid off, as there was no door. There again who has ever seen a kennel with a door. For that's what it was: A very solidly built, large sized dog-house, right out of a Tom & Jerry cartoon. Fresh straw covered the otherwise bare floor. Outside, to one side of the entrance way, lay two bowls, one marked Food' the other, Water', both were empty. That was all there was to it, however Terry took so long looking for more Terry didn't even notice who crept up behind him. "See you in the morning." Terry turned to follow, took half a dozen paces and choked. His eyes flashed around but there was no one near. Terry looked at Sally, nearly twenty feet away, obviously no longer holding his leash. He turned his attention to Donny, the only member of the gang who bore him a grudge, but the little lad didn't hold the chain either.. Thinking a bit more logically Terry moved around so he could follow the links of the chain itself, right to the kennel where a small padlock held him firm. Terry refused to panic and got comfortable. Thankfully the kennel had been made for a fair sized dog so it was no trouble for him to waddle his way inside. The ceiling low for sitting down - or rather squatting, doggy style, so that left only one option. Terry moved over to the right hand wall, brushed myself against it and then let go. The straw acted as a cushion but it still hurt when Terry landed, on his side. Once comfortable, sort off, he settled. Lying chained up, gagged and with his prick and balls taped up, in a kennel beside a deserted cottage Terry, strangely, recreated the sensation of sliding his pricklet through the soft folds of Donny's arsehole and wanked himself to sleep. -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----