Daddy’s Boy at 18

By Ian Kovnats (Gaystoryman)

Copyright © 2007 ? All Rights Reserved

William got off the bus, and there was his mother. Looking no different than when he had left for College, except maybe a bit more frazzled, little bit more lines around the eyes and face as he gave her a hug and kiss on the cheek.

‘Grab your bag, your father is waiting at home’

As he picked up his duffel bag, he felt slightly annoyed. It was like he was ten or twelve, that way his mother had spoken. Not even a ‘how are you’ or anything.

‘He’s my step dad, not my real dad’

‘Talk like that won’t help you William, and he is your dad, he’s the one who raised you, don’t you forget it’

He wanted to say more, but thought better of it. He was in enough trouble as it was. Hell, how stupid could he have been, to fall for that shit. His step dad would certainly have a field day with it, and no doubt he was in the back shed, waiting, anticipating how he would make William regret it even more.

Christ, he was eighteen for God’s sake, and felt like he was still a little brat. His step father had come into his life at about 8, and he was a Master Sergeant of the Marines. He looked at William then, and since, as nothing more than some recruit. The way he would bark orders, expect instant responses, and when it wasn’t as he expected, the punishment usually was the switch on the bare behind, out in the shed.

Nothing seemed to have changed either, whether he was 10 or 18. His step dad still thought of him as some damn ass recruit, and his going off to college had infuriated the old crank. It was like he had expected William to join the Marines or something, instead of going to College to get a degree, to become something more than a grunt.

Sarge, as he liked to be called by everyone, including his family, was an impressive man. He stood just over six foot, was solid too. No pot belly on him, and he could still bench press his own body weight. His hands were massive, and the arms were more like those of a body builder than an ordinary person. And he knew how to wield those arms too.

William could still feel every ‘disciplinary action’ that had been forced on him. At a young age, it had hurt, but as he grew up, the force of the blows across his buttocks increased. Sarge liked to tell him it was because he was becoming a man, had to learn how to take it like a man, though he didn’t quite see it that way. In some ways, before leaving for college, he had found it more erotic than painful. Not like Sarge would know anything about that, still as the car parked in front of his home, he felt oddly excited.

Maybe he had taken too many whacks to the ass, or maybe it was just his nature, or some genetic quirk, but staring at the old house, seeing the huge flag hanging from the pole, he felt a bit aroused. He couldn’t explain it, because Sarge was never sexual towards him. Hell the man barely acknowledged his mother, as if sex to him was a matter of duty, not pleasure. The guy was just cold as hell, nothing ever phased him.

The only way he used to know if the man was angry, was by the fire in his eyes. His jaw would be set a little tighter, the lips a bit paler, but it was the eyes that gave it away. They looked so intense, so burning, that many times William thought that if he could, Sarge would burn a hole right through his body.

He walked into the house, as if nothing had changed. Looking around, it didn’t seem any different either, as he left his duffle bag by the stairs, and headed out towards the back shed, as his mother had directed. Funny, she never once objected to the walloping he had gotten from Sarge, even when he had come rushing in, pleading for her to intercede. It never changed anything, and he soon stopped running to her.

Things were different though. He was eighteen, had grown up a lot over the last few years. To begin with, he was no virgin. Secondly he wasn’t some 98 pound weakling. Workouts at the gym, running several miles every morning had given him an actual body. His body fat was minimal, his hair was as he wanted. No longer cut like some damn Marine, buzzed and like a brillo pad.

According to one his recent flings back at college, he had buns of steel, arms like rocks, and legs that could crush a fair sized piece of granite. He had liked that, and yet as he walked towards the shed, he felt like he was still just a small kid. Yet the twitch in his ‘buns of steel’ made him smile, which he quickly wiped off his face. Sarge would not like to think that he might actually be looking forward to their encounter.

Entering the shed, he noticed how nothing had changed. Everything was exactly where it had been before he had left nine months ago. Every tool was still hanging exactly where it always was. Even Sarge seemed to be where he always at times like this. He stood with his back to William, looking out the back window. The back was ramrod straight, hands clasped behind like he was on some damn parade ground.

The head was upright, not even moving as he had entered the small workshop. The cold cement floor echoed to his footsteps, as he walked towards the centre of the room. He noticed that even the chair was exactly where it always was.

‘Couldn’t even make it a whole year, could you?’

‘Guess not’

‘Still with the smart mouth, obviously you haven’t learned very much while away.’

‘I don’t know, figured out I am not cut out to be a Doctor, that is something.’

He watched the shoulders lift a little, then the whole body turned to face him. Just like on the parade ground he thought, watching the man stare at him. He could feel the eyes burning at him, saw the anger in the face, as usual. Yet it didn’t seem to frighten him, but instead made him feel warm. It was strange, something he had tried to comprehend, but had given up on trying to figure out.

William knew what was coming, he had been in this position more times than he could really remember. More times after he had been 14 or 15 too, which didn’t make much sense to him. It was almost as if he deliberately sought to be difficult, to raise the ire of the Sarge. Looking over at him, he could see the man was unchanged. Still the Marine, the drill instructor. Even his work pants had a crease in them, just like always.

‘You know the drill, hop to it.’

William watched as the man leaned over and brought out his switch. It was the same one that had been used for years now. Well not years, just his last one at home. The one before that had been broken over his ass, which had earned him some pretty good cussing. He could still recall that switching, as he looked at his step father.

‘Bit old for that, don’t you think?’

‘You are never too old to be disciplined by your betters.’

‘I am not the same kid that left nine months ago, maybe I won’t accept your brand of discipline?’

He watched the man stare at him. The jaw grew more set, and the eyes looked like angry red orbs. He almost felt the outrage reaching out for him. It was odd, but inside, he knew he would submit, it was a game he played with the man. William liked goading him, hoping that just once the guy would show some emotion, other than glaring or barking at him.

‘You don’t have what it takes, enough of your disrespect, drop those trousers, and assume the position, or by God, it will hurt a lot more when you do submit. I guarantee you that.’

For one split second he contemplated making the man back up his words. Yet as he looked at him, knowing he had youth on his side, the guy was still in shape. It wouldn’t be easy, nor would it be in his favour. The guy had served in some pretty dangerous places, had come out alive. Licking his lips, as he stared back, he realized that if it ever came down to a fight, he’d have the shit kicked out of him.

William felt his body relax. Reaching down, he unbuckled his belt, opened his pants, and shoved them down to his ankles. Turning around, he reached down, and pushed his underwear down towards his pants. For some reason, he felt himself excited, feeling the growing hardness of his penis, as he bent over, reaching for his ankles. He had given in, as he knew he would.

With his eyes looking downwards, he heard the hard steps come closer, then he saw the feet standing off to one side. Each shoe was spotless, gleaming even. They were old, but looked like they had just come out of a box. The shine was brilliant, as he held his ground, waiting. Sarge always liked to make him wait, before the first blow.

He called it a ‘time for reflection’ and sometimes it could be several minutes. Other times it would be just a minute. This appeared to be one of those more lengthier times. He felt his pulse quicken, in anticipation. It became warm in the closed shed, the sun beaming through the windows.

Time seemed to just drag on. He leaned over, the pain in his lower back growing, as the Sarge seemed content to just let him wait. The hairs on the back of his legs were standing up though. His legs ached along with his arms, as he waited. Sweat had formed on his forehead, and he could feel it dripping down his cheeks. The room’s warmth was becoming uncomfortable, but he kept his mouth shut.

It was all part of the game, as he waited. His nerves were all taut, waiting. There wasn’t even a small breeze. It was all becoming suffocating, as he waited. The tenseness in his boy became almost unbearable. He knew that soon as he let his guard down, the first blow would come. Question was, who would lose patience first? Somehow he knew the answer.

The sound registered before the pain. He heard the loud ‘whack’ as the switch crashed into his cheeks. He heard the air leaving his lungs, as he staggered a bit under the blow. It had never been that hard, but as he began to feel the pain lancing up, the second blow struck, just below the first. William felt it more than heard it. His buttocks had been twitching from the first blow, when the second had come walloping down. It had taken him by surprise, as the old geezer had switched tactics on him. He was unprepared, as the pain roared up his spine. His heart thumped a few extra beats, as he struggled to hold still, knowing that each time he moved it would hurt only more.

Still it wasn’t easy, and the Sarge had a good eye. As soon as he tried to shift his leg, to adjust for that second blow, the third was on its way, hitting him just above the first blow. It was uncanny how good he could gauge where to land the blows. Each one, so far, had hit virgin territory. The pain was more intense, the blows harder than he had recalled.

As the third blow had began to make its way into his nervous system, the warmth finally began to invade his conscious thoughts. His cheeks were quivering as he could imagine the Sarge lining him up for a fourth devastating blow. He gritted his teeth, but nothing happened. There wasn’t a quick fourth blow.

He was sucking wind, as Sarge would call it. Three blows only, and already he was winded. The pain was slowly leaving, the warmth creeping up from his buttocks dissipating as well. Glancing over, the shoes shone in the sunlight. Tiny little specs of dust swirled around in the sun rays, but the shoes were still in place. Not even a millimetre out from before, as he gulped and swallowed several times.

Give the guy credit, he knew how to make things last. Once more he was playing the waiting game, making him think, making him wonder why at 18 he was still letting some old guy beat his ass. He doubted that if he had stuck to his guns, had really refused to strip and bend over, that the man would strike him. It was the one thing he was confident about, yet he hadn’t forced it, hadn’t put it to the test.

In the back of his mind, he respected Sarge. His mother was right, he had raised him, and his siblings. Maybe he hadn’t been emotional, with hugs and words of praise, but he had given them a home. He had sent him to the best schools possible, and he owed him for that.

The fourth blow caught him by surprise. He staggered and took a step forward, that earned him two more quick tags on his buttocks. One near his legs, the other closer to the small of his back. Expert placement he thought, as the pain multiplied two fold as it came rushing up his body. He felt it all over, felt his legs quiver from the pain, felt his arms stiffen from it.

The seventh blow he had anticipated, but the force of it still managed to surprise him. It was loud too, as the switch struck diagonally across his cheeks. The pain came from all over, as once more he felt himself stagger. He bit his lip, knowing an eighth would surely follow immediately.

Instead nothing, as he regained his balance. His body was sweating, and the pain seemed endless. The warmth was filling him too, making his head a bit dizzy as he stared down at the floor. He knew that floor intimately, from previous times. He slowly managed to regain his breathing, which is when Number Eight hit.

Again, the force was unexpected. His ears were suddenly ringing from the rapid beat of his heart. His lungs were aching, but through it all, he felt a thrill growing inside. His loins were aching, and he could feel his penis jerk with each of the eight blows, so far. It had thickened, though not fully erect yet. Still, as the blows had landed, it had jerked, striking his inner thighs.

Funny how you could think of things that you shouldn’t be, while being whacked across the ass. It was odd too, at how he could hear his own heavy breathing, but nothing came from the man exerting tremendous force to whack him. He didn’t get it, and the pain that now rolled up from his rear was more intense than ever. He had once more been caught off guard. The ninth blow was the hardest yet.

It made him take two steps forward. He couldn’t help it, expecting a sharp reprimand at least, a hard whack at worst. Instead nothing, just the sounds of him panting, of his own heart pounding. He shuffled back, feeling a slight tingling against his leg. The force of the blow had also forced his cock to bang into his thigh, hard. It hurt where he had never expected to feel pain, and from something he had never expected to give him pain.

Tears were at the corner of his eyes, mingling with the steady stream of sweat that now dropped from his forehead. He licked his lips, then bit down on the trembling lower lip, as he waited for the final blow. Sarge never administered more than ten, and so far only nine hard shots.

He felt his pulse quicken, felt his body stiffen, but no tenth blow. He breathed out, slowly letting his body relax just a bit. He thought that would bring the tenth blow, hoping it would, so he could pull his pants up & go to his room. The ache in his crotch was almost too much. He wanted to lift a hand off his ankles, to take hold of his throbbing cock. Yet, he couldn’t without the Sarge finding out about him, about how these sessions were making him truly feel.

Still, he could barley hold on. The dull ache inside from his need, his desire, was threatening to expose his secret. For a second he thought about telling him, or about egging him on, but he just bit his lip instead. Nothing would be served by coming out. Certainly not bend over, ass naked. That would be a topper, one that could hurt a lot more than the first nine blows had. The warmth that creeped in from his buttocks was slowly replacing the now dull waves of pain.

William heard a grunt, the first time he had ever heard Sarge make a noise, and it suddenly scared him. This time he heard the swish, the sound of the approaching switch as it was knifing through the still air in the shed. His body began to tremble, just as the rounded switch met his buttocks. He felt the wood dig into his flesh, felt the hard shape push inwards. The sound was loud, drowning all other sounds out, as it landed squarely across both orbs of bruised flesh.

A strange cracking sound suddenly joined the other noises, as he took the tenth blow. The force made him yelp, the pain reaching heights he had never felt before. His body staggered, his lungs suddenly empty, as the pain erased all of the warmth inside. His penis banged into both thighs, the left one twice, as he felt his body being propelled forward by the force of the blow.

Just as he took a second step forward, an eleventh blow landed across the top of his buttocks. He cried out, as a twelve blow fell just above his legs. A thirteenth blow hit him dead centre from the top and bottom, before the echo of his cry had died out. The fourteenth blow struck at the same place, and three more hard whacks followed at exactly the same place, even as he staggered forward.

It was as if he had been chased, as another two blows found their mark across his cheeks. The pain was too much, as he cried out with each of the blows. Sarge had never hit him more than ten times, now he had gone nuts, hitting him hard several more times. William could hear the heaving breathing, knowing it wasn’t his.

The voice sounded winded as it spoke.

‘Go, back to your room, think about this or there will be more.’

William quickly reached down and pulled his pants and underwear up. He moved forward quickly, buckling his pants as he was halfway to the house, itself. He flung open the back door, tears streaming down his face, as he thumped up the stairs, to fling open his bedroom door.

He didn’t even look around, as he reached back to slam the door shut. He stood there, quivering with anger, feeling the pain still from those extra blows. He turned, locking his door, and dropped his pants, stepping out of them. William moved over to stand in front his mirror, and turned to stare at the now darkish red purple bruises that criss crossed his white buttocks. He reached back with his hand, wincing as he touched one of the long red welts.

It still hurt, but as he looked at his reflection in the mirror, he noticed how hard his cock was. It was sticking nearly straight out from his body. Turning away from the mirror, he looked down at his cock, and grabbed hold of it. His fingers gripped the cock tightly, as he held it for a second.

He saw the white ooze at the head, and moved his hand over it, smearing his pre cum down his thick erect cock. He leaned his head back, as he quickly began to stroke himself, feeling the heat from his buttocks, feeling the still rolling waves of pain inside his body from each blow.

The pain seemed to just disappear as his hand flew up and down his cock. The warmth seemed more powerful, and the dull ache in his rectum wasn’t from the growing welts along his cheeks. It was from his handling the pain, as he felt his balls ache, and sling upwards. He stood there, his body tense, like a tighten bridge cable. Every nerve ached, every muscle inside was taut, stretched beyond its ability.

His hand moved quickly, as the explosion came. His cock reared back in his stroking hand, as it began to stream its seed outwards. William felt the warm streaming cum brush past his fingers, as if they weren’t even there. The sudden ejaculation seemed to soothe the rolling waves of pain. His body slowly began to relax, while his chest heaved and his lungs sucked in air. Gradually he felt himself relaxing, felt his body no longer racked by pain or anything else.

He was a bit dizzy, as he stumbled towards his bed. Falling face first, he felt the crispness of the sheets, felt their cool touch against his burning flesh. His cock was between his legs, as he let his hand moved back and over, to lightly touch the tender flesh of his cheeks. It hurt, made him wince even, but at the same time, he had never cum so hard, so fast as he just did. It was all because of that moment, when the old man had snapped, had struck him with everything he had.

William grinned, as he turned over to stare at his reflection in the mirror. He had won, survived another session with the Sarge. His smile suddenly froze as he saw the tall figure of his step father in the doorway. He had been certain he had locked the door, yet there he was, the immovable object.

Sarge stepped into William’s room, his eyes no longer burning. In his hand was jar of something, that he held out to William.

‘Here, put this on, it’ll help keep the swelling down.’

‘Thanks, how did you, I locked the door’

‘Locked doors never stop a Marine.’

‘Obviously’

The man looked down at him, then turned to leave. He stopped at the open door, turning back to stare at William.

‘You’ll learn’

‘I guess.’

‘Better or they’ll boot you out real fast.’

‘Huh?’

‘Have you told your Mother yet? She isn’t going to be happy about your decision.’

‘How… I mean, no I haven’t told her.’

‘When do you leave for Pendleton?’

‘Monday, but how did you, I haven’t told anyone, how did you?’

‘I am a Marine, son… and a father, a proud father.’

William watched the man leave the room, the door clicking shut as he did. He looked down at the jar, and dug his finger in, wondering what else the Sarge knew?

No Sparing of the Rod

By Ian Kovnats (Gaystoryman)

Copyright © 2007 ? All Rights Reserved

Kyle couldn’t believe his step father’s demand. He stood there, shaking as he looked open mouthed at him, and then glanced over at his friend Ryan. He saw the eyes staring wide open, saw the fear in them too. He knew he too had that same fear. His father was not what you would call the timid type.

He was a roustabout on an Oil Rig, and looked liked it too. Mark was a tall burly man, with thick arms that were bigger than Kyle’s thighs. He had dark brooding eyes and has a simple philosophy when it came to raising kids. ‘Spare the Rod, Spoil the Kid’ was his favourite chant, and he had meant every word too. He didn’t care if Kyle was 18 or not, hell he had whipped the tar out of Kyle’s older brother who was 20.

There was no mistaking his anger as he had called for Kyle, then immediately had stormed into the room. In his hand was his belt, and there was no doubt he was pissed. Of course Kyle could fight him, but he had seen how his brother had fared in resisting. The guy still sported his black eyes, and his nose was broken, not to mention the welts he still had.

He had Ryan with him, hoping his presence would at least defer what he knew was to come, but as his step father roared at him, he knew it wasn’t going to be. His body was already shaking as the man demanded he drop his pants and bend over. His look was daring him to defy him too, and he knew what that would mean. It had been like that ever since he had married his mother, who seemed to be okay with how her new husband treated her kids.

Kyle had to admit, the guy did provide them. He wasn’t a piker with the cash, and the new computer he had in a box, ready to take to college was top of the line. Still, at 18 to have to submit to being walloped, and in front of his best friend, was hard to just accept.

He knew he had screwed up, knew that Mark would be bringing out the belt, still he hadn’t expected it to be in front of Ryan. He had tried to plead with him, but it only seemed to make him angrier. He had refused to administer his justice after Ryan left, and even when Ryan tried to leave, Mark refused for him to leave. He insisted he stay, to watch and learn from it.

Like Mark wasn’t Ryan’s father, but no way was Ryan going to cross Kyle’s step dad. He was just not the fighting type, and he stood there watching, waiting to see if Kyle would obey. It wasn’t like Kyle had any choice in the matter, as he slowly turned from his step dad, and unbuckled his belt. The rush of red rose in his face, as he looked over at Ryan.

He always had a thing for him too, which made this all the more horrible. To undress, to drop his clothes and stand there while being punished would not help him in scoring with Ryan. The guy was hot too, least in his estimation.

Ryan was 18, like Kyle. He had longish hair that covered his ears, a sort of thin face, and a slim nose. His eyes were a soft blue, that seemed to match his face complexion. They were always so full of life, of emotion, that it always made Kyle feel a bit weak. They were both about the same height, nearly 6 feet, and Ryan was a few pounds heavier at about 160. His body though, was more muscular than Kyle’s, and his crotch always looked full.

Kyle had a lot of dreams about him and Ryan. He would fantasize about holding him, of being kissed by him, and now all that seemed about to be ruined for ever. No way would Ryan want someone like him, who at 18 still let his step dad paddle his behind. That was for kids, not young men them they were supposed to be.

Still, looking at Ryan, as he undid his pants, and pushed them down his long legs, he saw a strange little flicker in the shocked looking eyes. It was almost as if Ryan was checking him out, was actually interested in what was suddenly being displayed for him. It helped to steady him, as he stepped out of the pants and then reach up and push his underwear down.

He kept his eyes on Ryan’s face, as he felt the air flowing across his naked groin. His cock was free, semi erect as well, and Ryan’s face showed he had noticed. In fact, it seemed like he enjoyed what he was being allowed to view. The licking of his thin lips were a sure sign of his interest, as Kyle stepped out of the shorts.

His step fathers bellow to hurry up brought him back to the moment. His eyes clouded over, and he felt a strange hatred for the man standing to his side. He turned around briefly, to see the flare of Mark’s eyes, to see the set jaw as he waited for him. In that instant he wished the man dead, as he turned away to look at Ryan, then bend over to grab hold of his ankles.

Kyle spread his legs apart a little, to steady himself, as he held onto his ankles, knowing what was about to come. He felt nothing but hate now, as he stared at the carpet beneath him. It was wrong, for him to have done what he did, but this wasn’t going to make it right. This was humiliating and all he could think of was how he would enjoy leaving for College in two days. To be rid of having to submit to this man’s discipline was filling his heart, as he heard Ryan suck in his breath.

As he looked up, he felt the first blow strike hard across both of his upraised cheeks. The leather belt dug into his soft flesh, making him tremble, but he held steady. The pain was rapidly going through his whole body. Tears were suddenly welling up at the corners of his eyes, as he shook to the hard first blow.

The sound and force had made Ryan step back a step or two, but now he stepped back up, where Kyle could see him. Damn he had a good body, he thought, as he tried to ignore the pain. It was working too, as he felt his heart steady, felt the nerves settling down. The idea of one day having those legs around him, or of being upraised as he lay on top was making him feel rather warm. Or it could be the burning of his cheeks from that first blow, but he choose to believe it was his thoughts of Ryan.

The next blow knocked the wind out of him. It hit so hard, without any warning. He cried out, the tears rolling down his cheeks now, as his body trembled to the force of the blow. The pain was worse than before, worse than he had experienced before. It was almost as if Mark was trying to show off his brute strength in front of Ryan, at Kyle’s expense.

The pain was still racing through when the third blow landed, just below his cheeks, right above where his legs joined his buttocks. The pain was immediate, and intense. He felt his hands let go, felt his body stumble forward, as Mark cursed for him to get back into position. A quick flick of the belt, struck the back of one thigh, to highlight the man’s demand.

Kyle stepped back, seeing Ryan’s worried look, which gave him some comfort as he grabbed hold of the ankles once more. He gritted his teeth, ignoring the waves of pain that were racing inside his slender body. His cheeks felt like they were on fire, as they shook from his anticipation of the next blow. The grunt, the intake of breath, told him another blow was coming. He felt himself stiffen, felt his body prepare just as the fourth blow landed just below the small of his back. The wide band of leather seemed like it was cutting into his flesh, as it hit.

The pain seemed endless, as Mark swung a fifth and then a sixth time. Each blow crossing both of Kyle’s burning buttocks. The skin felt like it was on fire, the heat and the pain rolling up and down his body. His legs were taut, aching from how he was standing, but he didn’t cry out. He continued to defy Mark, by biting his lower lip, until he tasted blood. His eyes were clouding from the tears that kept falling from them, no matter how tightly he tried to keep them.

Through the tears, he saw Mark’s feet spread further apart, even tense up as he knew that the man was leaning back with his arm upraised. He could sense it, as he turned away, to see Ryan staring at him, his eyes showing sympathy or something. It was odd, but he couldn’t help but think of how Ryan kept glancing at him, kept looking at his groin.

The seventh blow landed with a loud whack, that echoed in the room. It was so loud, Kyle couldn’t even hear the roar of his own heart pounding, or the heavy breathing of his lungs or Ryan’s either. The force was so great, that once more he stumbled out of position. It broke the hold on one ankle and it felt like he was about to fall forward.

A hand came out, to grab his shoulder, and prevent him from pitching forward onto his face. He glanced up to see it was Ryan who had stopped him from falling. He smiled up at him, as he took a deep breathe. His leg ached, the muscles so taut that they were beginning to cramp up, yet he pushed them back into position. His eyes were filled with tears, but he still said nothing, refusing to let his pain break through his tightly held lips.

Just as he was back in position, the next blow came. It cut across from one side to the edge of the other, in a long diagonal line. Part hit him above his buttocks on one side, while on the other it was below, at his legs. The ninth was opposite to the last, as Mark showed how good he was at landing the blows, in varied patterns. Each slap found untouched skin to wallop, to bring pain to.

His chest was heaving from the stress, as he staggered, but held his ground. His legs were spread apart as he saw Ryan’s body trembling. He also noticed how his groin seemed so much larger, so much more full, than when this had begun. It would be nice to see what was behind that bulge, he thought as his hands turned white at the knuckles, as he held himself ready for the next crushing blow.

The pain was constant. His whole body was trembling from the waves of pain that held him in place. He could feel each nerve tingling, feel it telling him how much it hurt, as he waited for the next blow, hopefully the last blow. His legs were like bands of steel, his toes were curled up in pain, but he could feel his cock still being semi erect. While this was indeed the worse whipping he had ever received, it somehow didn’t seem quite as bad as it felt.

The tenth blow was a corker. He heard the air swishing as the belt sliced through it on its way to his buttocks. Kyle heard the sharp intake of breath from Ryan, as he stood there watching. It felt like an eternity as he heard the sounds, waiting for the moment of impact.

When it came, he felt his teeth slice into his lower lip. Tasting more blood the noise of the belt striking full force across his already bruised cheeks all seemed unreal. It was like he could pick each sound out. The belt as it hit his flesh, the way Ryan was breathing, and even the hard grunting noises from Mark. There was the sound of the air moving out of the way of the rushing leather, the sound of his body resisting the hard force, yet giving in somewhat.

It all seemed like he could hear them all, distinguish them even. Yet the pain, it seemed to take forever to register on his mind. It was there, he knew that, but it didn’t suddenly overwhelm him. It grew, feeling hot at first, then as it traveled up to his brain, it seemed to become more intense, more sharp.

His breathing was very shallow, difficult as he stood there, his whole body shaking as the pain kept him immobilized. Tears were dripping from his face as he tried not to sob, to let his pain be heard. The heavy breathing from Mark grew quiet, then he heard him grunt his satisfaction, and begin to walk away. Kyle heard him stop at the door, and tell him to think next time, then he was gone.

He still couldn’t move, as he hears a loud whistle of escaping pent up breath from Ryan, who now disappeared from his sight. He heard his door being locked, and then he felt Ryan’s hands on his shoulders, helping him to stand up. He felt the pain with each movement of his upper body. Finally standing up, he stared into Ryan’s face, and tried to grin through the tears that still rolled down his cheeks.

Ryan reached out with his finger, wiping some of the tears away as he looked at Kyle. The eyes were so comforting, that he couldn’t believe it. Yet he could barely move, and felt himself being cradled by Ryan. His body leaned in, as they shuffled over to the bed, where Ryan helped him lay down across it. His chest hurt, as he tried to will the pain away, but he could still feel it, inside. It ached in places he couldn’t believe would feel it, as Ryan just sat next to him.

Slowly he felt himself relaxing, felt the pain easing as he lay there next to Ryan. Kyle felt his hand on his back, felt it gradually replace the other feelings that his body was having. It was like some sort of magnet, soaking up the bad feelings inside, replacing them with something nicer, more comforting. He lay there, wishing Ryan was his, as in boyfriend, knowing he would be the one person he would miss the most when he left for college.

He was off dreaming before it dawned on him that Ryan was caressing his back, running his hand up and down his back, then across his shoulder. He turned his head, to see Ryan next to him. His face look so worried, so concerned that it scared him a little. He gave him a weak smile, trying to apologize to him for his step father, when Ryan hushed him, almost like a caring brother would do.

The hand moved along his shoulder, and down his arm as Ryan looked at him with those puppy dog type eyes. They seemed so full of love, that it had to be his imagination, but the more he stared at them, the more he realized that his feelings for Ryan might be reciprocal. He couldn’t believe it, as he felt his gentle touch across his arm, and around his side. The young man was absorbed by his touching, by the feel of his hand on Kyle’s body that he seemed to not notice Kyle’s stare.

‘It isn’t fare, he shouldn’t have done that to you’ he said, in such a soft whisper, that Kyle wasn’t sure of the words at first. He just stared at Ryan, saw the anger in his eyes too, knowing it was directed at Mark.

‘Two days more, & I won’t have to worry about it again.’

‘I know, I am going to miss hanging with you.’

‘Me too.’

‘Really? I didn’t think you would notice…’

‘Course I would notice, shit Ryan you & I have been best friends since grade school. Shit if it wasn’t for him, I’d have tried to stay, but I can’t man, you can understand why, can’t you?’

Ryan’s hand had moved back up his arm, and now his hand was laying next to Kyle’s head, near his ear. A finger moved across his temple, moving some of his hair out of the way, as he looked at Kyle. It was a different touch, almost erotic as he looked up at Ryan. There was a stiffness to his words, as he spoke to him, yet Kyle waited, knowing how his friend worked when he was going to come out with something he thought was earth shattering. He waited, seeing his jaw work as he thought about what he was going to say.

‘I know, it is just that…’

‘What? Just what Ryan?’

‘I really like you Kyle, and…’

‘I like you too Ryan.’

‘No you don’t understand it, I like you more than just as a friends, I uh… Haven’t you uh ever wondered why I don’t have any girlfriends?’

Kyle tried to turn a little, so he could look at Ryan a bit easier, but the pain was still too much. He didn’t quite understand what Ryan was trying to tell him, but it did strike him as odd that Ryan never had any girlfriends, or talk about them for that matter.

‘No, never gave it much thought, why?’

Ryan looked away, though his hand remained on Kyle’s shoulder. It felt like it was trembling, yet unable to move away. Sort of as if Ryan wanted to be touching him, and the finger was near his cheek, just laying there.

‘Because they never interested me… like you do.’

‘What? I mean, uh, you telling me… Shit, you got some rotten timing there bud.’

‘I am sorry, I was going to tell you later, but…’

‘Later? Fuck Ryan, why later? Why didn’t you tell me before now?’

‘I couldn’t stand you knowing, and still be here, still see you and know you hated me, isn’t that obvious?’

‘Hate you? Christ you are such a shithead at times. I have been jerking off at nights alone, thinking about you, and I didn’t have to? Fuck, why didn’t you tell me?’

‘You have?’

‘Yes, for a few years now, but yeah, I have had a thing for you for awhile, I just thought you weren’t interested.’

‘I never, I never knew you were… talk about keeping secrets.’

‘I’d laugh, but it hurts too much.’

Ryan looked down at Kyle’s prone body, his eyes glistening a little as he took in the site of Kyle’s bruised buttocks. The hand squeezed his arm a bit, then moved up to hold Kyle’s face. He turned to stare at him, which made Kyle’s body stir a little. He felt relieved in some ways, sad in that so much time had passed feeling empty, when he could have been with Ryan instead.

Ryan laid down, his face now inches from Kyle’s, as they both looked into other’s eyes deeply. It felt like he was suddenly being connected to his friend in a way he never though possible. It was as if he could feel his thoughts, feel his heart beating next to his own, as his eyes slowly closed. He felt the light press of Ryan’s lips on his, and his whole body seemed to quiver in excitement.

He felt the arm over his upper back, holding him close, felt the warmth of him next to him, as the lips brushed his, as the hot tongue came out, to lick at his swollen lips. He felt it taste him, as he sighed, his mouth opening. The press of Ryan’s inside, made his whole body shake. His own arms now wrapped around Ryan’s body, bringing him in closer, their bodies touching in several places.

Kyle leaned back, onto his side, and there was no pain from his battered buttocks. There was a dull ache, but it no longer mattered as he held Ryan next to him. As he kissed him, enjoying the press of his tongue inside his mouth. It made everything else not matter.

As Ryan kissed him, all Kyle could think of was how things had a way of working out. To be whipped in front of Ryan had felt like it would be the end of their friendship, be too humiliating for him to bear, and now it had brought them together. Christ, if Mark ever found out, he’d go ballistic. It made him feel suddenly happy, as he leaned forward, kissing Ryan back hard, and touching him. His hand moved down Ryan’s body, feeling it shudder to his touch.

His body was forcing Ryan onto his back, and he kept kissing him, all over. First the lips, then he would kiss his cheeks, his eyes and even the tip of his nose, while his hand caressed Ryan’s stomach, then further down. He felt a strange passion inside, an urgent need to know that Ryan truly did mean what he had said.

There were no lingering sounds of belts crashing into flesh, instead he could hear their panting breathes as they held each other, as they kissed. Somehow his hand had unbuttoned Ryan’s pants, and was diving inside, feeling the hot warmth of his crotch. His fingers were urgent as they reached under the soft fabric of underwear, to touch Ryan’s bare skin. He felt the belly shake, as his fingers stretched downwards, seeking the source of Ryan’s heat.

He could hear him panting, hear him moan as his hand found what it was searching for. His whole body shook as the fingers touched the hot flesh of Ryan’s penis. It was like an electric shock, quick and hard. It made his heart pound, his pulse race as the fingers groped and touched the throbbing cock. The tips of his fingers moved along the thick solid shaft, until it reached the top.

Kyle felt the pre cum, felt it and wrapped his whole hand over it, to smear it down the throbbing shaft. His hand gripped the cock tightly, as it moved downwards, to press into the soft pubic region. Ryan moaned again, as he leaned forward, his hand now reaching down and under Kyle’s body, until he too was holding a cock in his hand. Kyle now moaned his pleasure, as together they once more kissed deeply, their hands holding tightly to each other’s cocks.

Then as they broke apart, staring at each other one more time, he let his hand begin to stroke Ryan’s penis. He felt the young man tremble, felt him shake, as he moved his hand slowly up and down his shaft. The fingers around his own cock tightened, then they too began to move up and down. His chest heaved as the hand pulled on him,

He knew he wouldn’t hold out long, the sensation of being touched, of being held like he was, was simply too much for one day. His body was shaking, his eyes fluttering, and his chest was acting like it was a pump, the way it kept rising and falling. His legs were numb, and the ache in his buttocks was ignored. He felt so good, after feeling so much pain, that he found himself panting, felt the sweat dripping off his forehead and down his face, traveling along the paths that held his tears a short time earlier.

He felt the hot breath on his face, opened his eyes to see Ryan’s face constricted, felt his eyes looking at him, but not seeing him. They were glazed over, and Kyle knew his friend was as close as he was. He took his hand off the throbbing pole, pushed the pants open more and then shoved his shorts down further, so his cock was free.

Kyle heard Ryan moan now, felt his body shaking as he once more grabbed the cock, and began to stroke it hard, letting its head rub up against his own belly. He felt his own body shaking, as Ryan continued to pull, to stroke his own dick. He could feel his balls slinging up, feel himself clenching his buttocks, as he waited for the explosion.

It was quick in occurring, as he cried out, leaning forwards as he did. His cock suddenly reared back, then came rushing forwards again, as his balls released their precious load of milk. His legs stiffened, his eyes closed shut, as light flashes began to cross across his eyelids. His heart was like a thundering jet engine at full throttle. The noise echoing in his ears, drowning out even his own cries, as the cum came shooting out from his cock.

He felt the tremors, felt the sudden force of his body moving forwards, the head of his cock no more than an inch from Ryan’s belly. He thought he could hear it, as his cum splattered out and all across Ryan’s groin. He was certain he could feel it splatter, spray falling back on his own body, as he shot his second load, then his third.

Every ounce of energy seemed to be needed, and he felt the exhaustion overwhelm him, as he rolled back. Even the pain that lanced up as he lay on his back, his buttocks on the bed didn’t matter. His chest heaved, as his hand continued to stroke Ryan’s dick, but it didn’t take him long before he felt it thicken, felt the blood rushing along the whole shaft, under his blurring hand.

A strange murmur filled his thoughts, as he stared over at Ryan. He could see the eyes shut tight, see the nostrils on his nose flare, see his cheeks being drawn inwards as his body lurched forward. He felt the cock in his grip shoot its hot cream out, most of splattering through his fingers. Yet even as his body leaned forward, he felt the first splatter of cum on the side of his belly.

His body shook, as he felt each hard shot of cum hit, then slowly spread wider across his own hot skin. It felt so good, that he kept stroking, milking the hard cock until the very last drop seemed to have been drained from it. Kyle could hear Ryan’s panting, feel his chest heaving as he collapsed onto Kyle. The sudden added weight making him grimace, for a minute, as a wave of pain hit him from his buttocks. It passed quickly as the pleasure of Ryan’s trembling body leaning into his was more intense.

He lay there, panting until he felt Ryan lift himself off, and lean on an elbow. Kyle could feel his eyes on him, and he opened his, to look at his friend. It was a warming sight to behold, as he saw his chest gleaming from the sweat. His hand moved, and he let one of his fingers run down the hollow of Ryan’s chest.

‘You know, it is only about a 3 hour drive from here to the campus.’

Ryan smiled, leaned forward and kissed Kyle on the lips, as he softly whispered. ‘3 hours and 4 minutes exactly.’