April 22, 2007
This story contains bare butt strapping and may not be acceptable to some readers.
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Corporal punishment was a way of life for us. Our strict, preacher father would tolerate nothing short of faultlessness from my older brother Paul and me. Paul, though twenty-years of age, was still a regular victim of father’s sadistic thrashings; and would remain susceptible until he’d attained adult status.
Three more years would pass before I’d be safe from his sadistic whippings, that would be suffered until his preordained number of distinct, strap impressions were burned into the sinner’s, bare buttocks; and accompanied by screams for mercy and absolution.
“Father’s instrument of terror - the Mule Paul had christened it because of its violent kick - was a strip of leather he’d cut from an old horse harness. Twenty-six inches long, four inches wide and three eighths of an inch thick, it would’ve been the envy of a prison warden. He hung it on the barn wall, handy to his hay-bale, whipping platform as a remi
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April 19, 2007
It was lunch time and I was already tired. I just had to leave work, so I stopped by a local drive-in and picked up a couple of corn dogs and a drink. I drove a couple of miles to the local park to enjoy my lunch, listen to the radio, and perhaps rest my eyes. I pulled into the parking lot overlooking the park and took out my lunch. Unfortunately, a well-built man about my age pulled up a couple of spaces to my right thus ensuring that my leisurely lunch would be much less so. Adding to the lack of leisure was the fact that the man was staring at me.
Oh well, such is life I thought. Before taking my first bite of corn dog, I yawned and placed a closed fist to my mouth to cover my mouth. Little did I realize that I had just inadvertently signaled to the man a desire to have my cock sucked. Now, instead of a simple stare, the man was sending a wicked grin my direction. What was this weirdo’s problem? I refused to be run off from my favorite lunch spot. Being hungry, I took a big bite from my corn dog. I gues
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April 18, 2007
I used to own an exotic beach house, somewhere in the Mediterranean. The place was quite secluded, so I was not in the habit of locking the doors. No one cared to visit this quiet, peaceful place.
One night, I was taking a shower when suddenly I heard a noise from the kitchen. It was a very hot night and I had left the doors open. Alarmed, I rushed out of the shower and into the kitchen. There was nobody there. Then, I decided to check the living room to make sure that there weren’t any uninvited guests. When I got there, bare-naked and with water dripping from my body, I saw the living room in a real mess. Apparently, somebody must have been looking for something.
All of a sudden, I felt a hand groping for my ass. I was petrified and intrigued at the same time. I turned around and saw a tall, handsome man. He was already naked and erect. Obviously, he had been jerking off, watching me in the shower.
“Get down on your knees and suck my dick!” he said decisively.
Instead of asking him what the hell was
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April 13, 2007
My neighborhood pal Dennis and I had grown up together, goading and daring each other into lots of stupid boy-type stuff. I recall one warm summer night while we were out riding bikes, I dared him to ride out to the lemon shed with his fly open and his dick hanging out. We just did stupid adolescent stuff like that as we were growing up.
Anyway, after graduating from high school, we both chose to continue living at our parent’s homes, and attend the local community college. Dennis had a sister who was knocked up that year. He had once spied on her while she was sucking the presumed father’s cock [a Navy guy]. We joked around about how Janet could have saved herself 9 months of grief if she had just kept that fucking prick in her mouth. Oh well, Janet’s pregnancy wasn’t our problem. Our problem was that we were healthy 18 year old males, horny as hell, and NOT getting any.
Anyway, in early January that year, Janet popped the kid. Dennis’s parents wanted to spin down to San Diego [200 miles away] and mee
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April 11, 2007
I was certain my queasy and debilitating feeling of frustration would end if I could only lick the trail of hair that descended, from Dusty’s belly button, into the top of his jeans. One side of my brain told me to just do it, while, the other side told me I could destroy the friendship we’d enjoyed since starting kindergarten, thirteen years ago. I’d always felt a powerful attraction to Dusty Burton and had, always, to be close to him; and though he had never indicated that he felt the same about me, I hoped he had.
There could be no doubt his roguish, good looks had a great deal to do with the magnetic attraction I’d been concealing. His light brown, brush cut and piercing, blue eyes gave him the appearance of a ruffian and a troublemaker. Whenever there was a problem in the neighbourhood, It would be a foregone conclusion, on the part of all the grownups, that Dusty Burton was the instigator. Most hadn’t bothered to really know him as I had. His constant, calculating grin and I-don’t-give-a-shit att
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