Copyright on this story text belongs at all times to the original author only, whether stated explicitly in the text or not. The original date of posting to the MMSA was: 14 Apr 2017
Brandon’s 21st birthday weekend was a big event for him, and I was glad he wanted me to share it with him. Yet, the weekend was for me another weekend from hell with Doug Dunham.
On Sunday morning, Doug woke us both up to get ready to go to mass. He sent Brandon into the shower first, and to my dismay delivered another, morning, wake-up spanking to me.
Once I quickly realized it was really happening, I was going to be spanked again, for the 4th time in less than 36 hours, I gave in, capitulating and regressing to a weeping, squalling, little boy who was getting another spanking.
He was able to administer that spanking in less time because of my rapid resignation and surrender to it. Before Brandon was back, I was up bawling, sobbing, feverishly rubbing my excruciatingly wounded bottom, while standing heaving and shaking in a bedroom corner.
When he came back to the bedroom to dress for church, Brandon knew immediately what had happened; but he did not say a word. When Doug pulled me from the corner and swatted me along to the bathroom, I saw the mournful, sympathetic look in the falcon’s eyes and on his face.
Of course, I did exactly as Doug told me, shampooing, showering, even shaving the hint of beard off my face. He left me alone in the shower to go start breakfast.
In my uncertain solitude, though, I had to indulge in the wank I was craving, needing, to offer some attenuation and relief from the blistering, sore pain, and the crushed and shattered emotions and self-concept. I hurried to get ready, and Brandon and I went to the kitchen together, already dressed for church.
After breakfast, we both brushed our teeth and came back to Doug to tie our ties. He told us we looked like the model young men he expected us to be, and knew we would.
That so-called compliment really grated at me, but I kept quiet and got into the car he left at the house in Illinois, to ride to mass. The priest greeted us, asking Doug who I was.
Doug replied I was a college friend and roommate of Brandon, and was spending the weekend to help him celebrate his 21st birthday. The priest urged us both to go the Catholic youth that evening, promising they would pay tribute to Brandon on his 21st birthday.
To my irked surprise, Doug agreed, saying he would bring us both that evening. In the car on the way to go out for Sunday dinner, Doug told me I would be getting back late to my folks, since I would be going to Catholic youth.
While riding in the car, he told me to call my parents and let them know, so they would not worry. I did, and Mom was a little surprised, but said,
Just be careful and safe, honey, and have a good time.
We went to a restaurant that had a buffet we could select from. I was hungry, but also upset emotionally, having just gotten another spanking in a weekend filled with them, and now restricted to staying with Doug and Brandon longer.
Sitting was agony for me, as there was no shift or change of position that was less painful and discomfort against my scorched bottom. I was quiet, almost silent, during lunch.
Brandon told me he was so glad I had come to celebrate his birthday, and hoped I wasn’t too disappointed. I smiled warmly for a second, assuring him he was my friend who I wanted to share this important occasion with.
We went back to Doug’s house, and Brandon asked Doug if he and I could go for a walk. After telling Doug where we would walk, and when we would be back, we got permission to go.
On the walk, I asked Brandon how he was holding up, tolerating being under Doug’s thumb every minute.
With careful discretion, he told me sometimes it was tough, but it was getting better because he had learned
Uncle Doug is really, at heart, a good, caring guy.
I just stared in his eyes.
You must know something I can’t see, I replied.
He smiled, replying,
I guess that’s what I’ve found out from being under his thumb all the time. Like everybody, he’s got bad points, but I know now he’s got really good, kind ones too.
I just shook my head.
I wish I could see them.
Come on, Connor, let’s go down by the river, Brandon changed subjects.
It’s pretty, cool, and really a neat place to sit and think, he added.
As we trudged down to the river bank, I asked,
You’ve been here before?
Yeah. Uncle Doug let’s me come down here for a while. I told him it helps me to get my head cleared and my emotions stabilized.
I did not know the falcon struggled with unstable emotions.
Does it really help? I asked, trying to ferret out what he was saying without asking directly.
Yeah, buddy, it does. Ah, I, ah, never had anybody really involved in my life before. Going off to college, I felt like I was launching off into life on my own, by myself. I guess, in a sense, I really was.
Fortunately, I’m athletic and good at swimming. Even as far back as high school, that helped me to find areas to do well, succeed, apart from myself, I mean, my personal self. Brandon was opening up.
When Nana Evans started taking charge of me, I reacted against it at first, mostly because I didn’t know how to live with and accept somebody being actively concerned and involved with my life.
When Uncle Doug came along, even stricter and more demanding, and controlling, here was a man doing the same thing to me. I rebelled and fought against him like crazy, but it didn’t work.
He was, and is, still there, not letting go, not letting me go off, get away. It took a long time to sink in. In fact, I resisted and ran from the reality. He’s the Dad I never had, the Dad who cares, is involved, stays involved, in my life.
Yeah, he makes me toe the line, and scorches my behind when I don’t; but Connor he does it because he cares. You may not see it, yet, or think it’s true; but being with him close, every minute, it finally dawned on me, and I actually feel better knowing that now.
I sat quietly listening, staring at the warm, passionate, but intensely personal eyes and words of the guy to whom I looked up so much. He was a real guy, like me, with fears and worries and needs too.
Ah, it’s hard for me to see what you’ve seen, Brandon, but I am glad you have. I’m glad you have the benefit of knowing people do care and want to be involved in your life.
Besides, Nana Evans and Doug, ah, Uncle Doug, you’ve got me too, Brandon. You are a neat guy, and I’ve looked up to, been in awe of, you ever since I first met you on the awful day at Winthrop Beach. I’m glad to be your friend.
I felt unsettled and a little nervous to see tears silently leaking from his eyes. He scooted over next to me, hugging me and toppling me over flat onto the ground under his embracing weight.
He literally stunned me by spreading his skinny body atop my smaller one, and instantly planting a kiss on my mouth. I was instantly panicked, being startled by feeling myself springing a boner in my shorts.
Brandon reached his hand down to grasp my growing loaf, and though squirming, I also moaned with arousal. He put his left hand over my mouth while undoing my shorts and yanking them down my front, down my legs, to my calves, followed by my boxer briefs.
I tried to hump up convexly, but bounced my bare butt down hard onto the earth as his right hand seized my lean, little bone, fondling the shaft as it slid up to clasp the head. When he removed his hand and put his mouth on my penis, I grunted a wild, hissing gasp through his hand still covering my mouth.
He suctioned and slathered my hard-on with his mouth and tongue, and very quickly my resistant squirming gave way to excited writhing, being caught up on the overwhelming, sexual stimulation that was counting down to liftoff.
Suddenly, he stopped, his mouth removed from my tool, as he undid his own shorts, pulling down his boxer briefs. He lifted my legs, tangled together with my shorts and briefs, and began inserting his finger into my hole.
I only writhed more, until he suddenly pushed his long, lean member up against my anus, slipping in quickly as it gave way. I was astonished enough at this happening out in the woods.
When, next, he popped in between my legs, squeezing his thin body between them, to recapture my woody in his mouth again, I was kerosene to which a match had been tossed. As every time, Brandon took charge, riding me with a rod that pistoned in and out, grinding against my prostate, while vacuuming my own stiffy.
This time, alone, with no one around, he took time and orchestrated a mutual climax that drove us both to the wild heights of nearly delirious, orgasmic rapture. Wow! I was gone! This was more, far more, and different than anything that had ever happened to me.
He lay on top of me, trapped in the arch my legs, while I gasped and heaved as if I had been chased at top speed for several miles. Finally, he withdrew from between my legs, and from within my anal channel.
I just lay there, flat out, unwilling to change the moment, but unable to express the feelings that were washing over and inside me. Brandon pulled his briefs and shorts back up, re-zipping and fastening them, and with my legs still elevated, he began pulling my briefs and shorts back up my legs, under my butt, to my hips.
He re-zipped and fastened them too, as I lay there like the classic, submissive, little whore who had just been dragged into the woods for a quickie. He pulled me up to sit on my sore behind again.
We sat there in total silence for a couple of minutes.
Hope you’re not mad, Connor, he finally spoke, looking imploringly into my eyes.
You are a really, true buddy and friend, he added, waiting
for my response.
Ah, I, ah, ah, don’t, ah, know, ah, whuh-uht to, ah, ah,... I’m, ah, spuh-eechless, I blabbered.
I’m, ah, nah-oht maaaad, ah, just, ah, don’t, ah, know what to, um, say or, ah, think.
He grabbed me into another strong hug again.
You don’t have to say or think anything, buddy. I’m just glad I have you, that you’re here, because you are, always will be, special to me, Connor.
Thanks, Brandon, I replied,
thought I didn’t know, had no idea, how that was, I mean, ah, the extent, ah,...
He looked at his watch and announced,
We better get going. We don’t want to be late. We don’t want Uncle Doug upset because we weren’t back on time.
He stood, bent over, and pulled me up onto my feet. With his arm around my shoulders, we walked up and out of the woods together.
On the street, heading back to Doug’s house, we walked separately, until we got to the door of the house. Before opening it, impulsively, I just grabbed Brandon and hugged him back, tightly, before letting go and opening the door.
Thanks, Connor, he whispered as we walked in to find Doug.
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