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The Blister Boyz
Chapter 34: Summer's End

by Redspkscott

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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: 13 Sep 2008

The Blister Boyz
Ch. 34: Summer's End

The heroes:
Troy Manning – Heat Blister
Jason Klein – Ice Hazer
David Mercer – Smaqdown
Dennis Lowder – The Humiliator
Walt Hemingway – Major Fry
Brian Tannon – Murky Menace
Jorge Vasquez – Poison Punisher
Keith Grady – The Sticking Point

Troy had to deliberately shut down the voice in his head telling him to run out with the others and fight as he knelt by Andrew's side to wait for help. Surely, there were enough folks out there to take on this mysterious attacker, but a part of him screamed to join the action.

Andrew's chest was covered with blood now from Ambush Viper's surprise attack. His breath was shallow and his face was pale. Troy kept a hand on the man's pulse and whispered to him reassuringly that everything will be okay. Andrew said nothing.

Jorge ran in, wet, in just his jockstrap, as he was in the cavern's waterfall shower with a few of his new friends and muttered in Spanish when he saw Andrew. Troy didn't have to say a word as Jorge dropped down to the floor on Andrew's other side and began to focus. He rested a hand on Andrew's chest and a green light began to pulse from it. The flow of blood began to slow.

"I can halt the bleeding on the outside," Jorge said. "But he's cut too deep for my powers. Remember when Jason was shot. I couldn't heal the internal damage. We need to get him out of here."

By this point, Jacob Brass had chased Ambush Viper out of the caves and was on the hunt. The others gathered in Andrew's office to deal with the results. Dr. Pete strode over to Andrew and ordered the others to give him space. He knelt down at Andrew's side.

"Hey, there, chief, can you hear me?" he asked.

"Yeah. Yeah," Andrew whispered, nodding his head slightly.

"Okay, we gotta figure out a way to get you out." To the others, he said, "I can't tell what his internal injuries are. Could have hit lungs or internal organs. Moving him physically could be a problem."

"I could levitate..." Dennis began.

"Still too much jostling. You're not that powerful yet. I want to move him as little as possible."

"Gentlemen, I think there's a way, though he doesn't know it yet," The Augurer said. "Our young Murky Menace holds the key."

"What, me?" Brian asked. He had been untied and was rubbing his extremely sore bottom. His face was drenched with tears from Dr. Pete's lengthy punishment. "My powers don't even work right now, I've been beaten so much. What can I do?"

"I can fix that," Jorge said. "Turn around." Brian complied, and Poison Punisher emitted another few pulses of green light, turning Brian's blistered purple ass to a more reasonable red, allowing the young man's powers to reactivate.

"Brian, come with me," The Augurer ordered. He knelt down next to Dr. Pete by Andrew. Brian knelt down next to him. The Augurer took Brian's hand and rested it on Andrew's shoulder. "Close your eyes and concentrate," The Augurer ordered. Brian complied.

"I need you to focus on the courtyard just outside Blitz Towers where we entered. Where I was punishing you. Do you remember?" Brian nodded. "Now, draw upon your shadow aura." Brian complied, and wispy tendrils of shadow soon wrapped around his body. The others noticed that as Brian touched Andrew, the tendrils flowed over him as well.

"Now visualize the shadows wrapping you both completely, so there's nothing but a cocoon over the two of you." Slowly the shadows thickened until neither of them could be seen. "Now it is important for you to feel as though you and the shadows are the same. That you're together. They're not something you create – they're something that's a part of you. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Brian said softly, his voice muffled within the shadows.

"Good. Feel them within you. Now, I want you to imagine that these shadows are connected to the shadows of the courtyard outside. Do you understand? All the shadows are connected. And therefore, you are connected to all shadows as well. Do you understand?" There was a long pause this time. "Do you feel it? Do you sense the shadows outside?"

"Yes... yes, I think I do. I can feel them," he said softly.

"Good. Good. Now visualize your shadows here transporting you and Andrew to the shadows outside. They can do that. You're all connected. The shadows are connected to you. It takes just a thought to travel between them. Focus. Feel it, and then ask the shadows to take you there."

Nothing happened for several seconds. Andrew's ragged breathing could be heard and the other Blister Boyz began to look at each other in concern. Then, they noticed the shadows appeared to be shrinking in size – and taking Andrew and Brian with them. As the others watched, the shadows faded into nothingness, and the space where Andrew and Brian once rested sat empty.

"They teleported!" Keith marvelled.

"Call the lobby and make sure a medic unit gets there immediately," Dr. Pete ordered a monk. He ran off to the communication center. "God, this is why I keep telling you guys you need to create a teleporter in here. It's too damned dangerous down here."

"And I keep telling you the magical energy required is too prohibitive," The Augurer said. "Maybe we'll be able to someday with the Blister Boyz on our side. But right now we'll have to make do."

The two men rushed over to the communication center, the Blister Boyz trailing after. As they arrived, the monk reported that Blitz Media's security made note of Brian's arrival with Andrew and an ambulance was just two minutes away.

"We should go help Jacob," Troy said. "Suit up boys and let's go."

"No," The Augurer ordered. "You're still too inexperienced to take them on." Troy glared at him. "Trust me," the wizard said gently. "The Circle of Thorns is no danger to Jacob. However, you gentlemen lack the training to take on magical enemies. We can't risk the possibility of losing any of you. In addition, with Jacob out there in the caves, we need you guys on guard in case there's another ambush."

"That's the guy who helped me against the Circle of Thorns," Troy explained to him. "He appeared out of nowhere just like this time, but he took down one of their wizards and freed me. Why would he suddenly attack us?"

"The enemy of your enemy is not necessarily your friend," The Augurer said. "The man had the look of the Tsoo around him, though he lacked the tattoos. They are rivals of the Circle of Thorns, but not heroes. They are evil slavers and run the Asian mafia in Paragon City. They rarely attack alone like this, which is why I want you all to stay together."

The boys all speculated as they waited for news that Andrew would be okay. The most likely theory was that the attacker was a hired hit man who had known about Troy's relationship with Andrew thanks to Dr. Vahzilok's discovery of the team's origin. He followed Troy in the belief that he would eventually lead them to the head of Blitz Media, his target.

Their theories were all wrong of course. But that was an extremely painful learning experience yet to come.

* * *

Jorge's summer ending: Jorge reluctantly had to say good-bye to Christian, his hot Brazilian summer fling, as he returned home to his studies. Jorge had played top all summer with Christian, paddling the young man daily as punishment payback for assisting Dr. Vahzilok, and then making him feel better with hot sex every night.

Christian, a spanking novice, quivered and cried with each punishment, which was mild by Omega standards. But as summer passed on he developed more endurance and, while he would never compete with the likes of Brian or Jason, could take a paddling as good as the average pledge. As a going away present, Troy declared Jorge an honorary Omega boy, and told him if he were to found a frat chapter in Brazil, they'd be happy to sponsor him and make him a real Omega. Christian blushed his thanks and told them all how happy he was that the Blister Boyz hadn't abandoned him to Dr. Vahzilok or the authorities. He promised to work to start a frat chapter and find a fellow jock who could maybe continue his need for discipline. And maybe he'd get the chance to give out a few swats himself.

After all was said and done, Jorge came to a realization that this was perhaps the kind of experience Keith, "the Redeemer," was meant for. Jorge had taken a guy who had thrown his lot in with abusers and taught him discipline instead. Keith hadn't been around for the experience, so Jorge filled him in.

It was also an excuse to get to know the burly hockey player a little better, who was one of the few brothers Jorge hadn't bedded. Keith blushed at Jorge's blatant flirtations and finally admitted that he was a virgin.

"Really?" Jorge purred. "Virginity is a terrible, terrible disease and I swore to rid the world of its plague. Some boys offer extremely painful treatments to take care of the problem, but you'll find I am a much smoother, pleasurable physician."

Keith laughed, but shook his head no. "I'm sorry. I think I know what I want now."

"Ah," Jorge said. "I understand completely." He grinned and gave Keith a playful goosing. "He's a very lucky guy."

* * *

Keith's summer ending: WHACK! "71, sir!" WHACK! "72, sir!" WHACK! "73, sir!" WHACK! "74, sir!" WHACK! "75, sir!"

Walt looked over his handiwork as Keith held his familiar position bent over Walt's desk. Keith's muscular bottom was a nice dark red color. But it was the same dark red color that it was back when Walt was only giving him 50 swats per session. His backside was adjusting quickly to increasing levels of discipline. It took Walt much, much longer than it took Keith to get to this point.

"On your feet, recruit," he said to the underclassman. Keith turned around and grinned at him as he pulled his camo-print spandex pants back up. "So how are you feeling, boy?"

"Sir, I feel good, sir," Keith said. "Well, sore, but good, sir. I think I may be ready to increase my discipline levels already, sir."

"Interesting. But it's summer's end, now. Our agreement was only until the new school year began."

"Sir, can we extend the terms, sir?"

"Are you conceding then that I was right?"

"Sir, of course, sir!" Walt nodded as the two boys smiled at each other.

"Are you mine for the school year, then, recruit? Your discipline will increase and my expectations for you will only grow."

"Sir, yes sir!" Keith snapped to attention. Walt looked at him for a moment, then stepped closer so that they were nose to nose.

"Are you mine, boy?" It was a whisper.

"Sir, yes sir." His voice was soft in response.

"Do you trust me?"

"Sir, yes sir." Walt leaned forward an inch. His lips pressed softly against Keith's. The kiss was gentle, but firm and to Keith, it felt like it lasted several minutes. Walt reached around Keith and took firm grasp of the young man's sore, muscular bottom.

"Are you ready, boy?"

"Sir, yes sir."

Walt slowly began to strip off Keith's clothes. The boy trembled in nervousness, his wings quivering. Walt led him to his bed and gently pushed Keith down onto his stomach. Keith watched over his shoulder as Walt stripped down himself, exposing a decent-sized cock, fully erect, resting in a thatch of black hair. He pulled a condom out of a desk drawer and some lubricant. He climbed on top of Keith and rubbed his broad back with one hand. Then he felt the damp warmth on his rectum as Walt tenderly applied lube with his other hand. He moaned as a finger slowly pushed into his sphincter. It squeezed on its own, trying to push the intruding digit back out.

"Just like with a paddling," Walt said, "You need to stay relaxed or it will hurt more. Understand?"

"Sir, yes sir." Keith focused, imagining he was getting paddled instead, which he was more used to and actually hurt much worse. The finger slowly slid in and out. After a couple of minutes, a second finger joined. Keith moaned. Once he got used to the feeling, it was quite pleasurable. The frat engaged with "insertion hazing" with the pledges – dildoes and plugs and such. It was done roughly for the purpose of making the pledges uncomfortable when their butts were too sore to continue paddling.

"Arch that back up," Walt ordered quietly. Keith obliged, raising his big, slightly furry bottom like it was going to get smacked. Instead, Walt withdrew his fingers and kneeled behind Keith's bottom. Keith felt the tip of Walt's cock on his hole. He felt his muscles tense instinctively, but focused on relaxing, just like when Walt was teaching him to take the paddle. Walt slowly pushed in, and Keith's sphincter widened to take in his cock. Keith gasped and Walt moaned as the tight friction of Keith's virgin bottom set off all the nerve endings in his shaft. Walt clutched Keith's massive, reddened cheeks with each hand as he slowly thrust in and out.

"You're mine, recruit," he whispered.

"Sir, yes sir," Keith agreed.

* * *

Walt's summer ending: Walt stood at attention in Dennis's room as Dennis scratched out some notes, working out what would be a formal policy to define Walt's punishment.

"This is a lot tougher than it was for David," Dennis explained. "David let me read his mind and get a feel for the things he's done in the past he felt he deserved to be punished for. That's what we've been doing all summer. But I know you certainly don't want me in your head and you're more forward thinking."

"Sir, yes sir," Walt responded.

"Well, we've addressed your attitude here. Are you sure you don't want a warning that you're acting up before I decide to punish you? A chance to correct yourself?"

"Sir, I know appropriate behavior, sir. I'm old enough to think before speaking. The punishment is the warning, sir."

"As you wish." He made a few more notes. "And we are in agreement that at least one other Blister Boy should witness the punishment. That could potentially include Keith, you know."

"I understand sir. He's one of us now. Regardless of any private agreement we have with each other, I see him as an equal on the team, sir."

"I feel like you're looking for something more from me, Walt. I mean, what happened in Oranbega was an aberration. I think the likelihood of me punishing you under these guidelines is going to be pretty damned rare."

"I agree, sir, but to be honest, I've always focused more on discipline to keep me on track. I've never needed to think about punishment when I get off track."

"That's what I'm for," Dennis said, smiling. "Wait a minute – 'when you get off track.' Tell me, Walt, despite your responses down in Oranbega, have you decided to embrace your role as 'The Guardian?'"

Walt cocked his head and thought about it for a moment. "Sir, yes sir. I have."

"Well then. We have a threat to our team. We need to find out who is after us or Andrew and why. It seems to me that would fall under your responsibilities to figure that out so that the Blister Boyz can handle it."

"Sir, you're absolutely right, sir."

"How about this, then? Troy and I expect a report from you at the end of each week, detailing any progress you've made in figuring out why that attack happened. If I see little or no progress, you will be sanctioned with a punishment session."

"Sir, I believe that is an excellent plan, sir. I want nothing more than to be pushed to succeed as a hero and a strategist. If I do not serve the team well, I believe that I deserve strong punishment, as severe as what I endured at Mr. Porter's hands."

"Oh rest assured, you will," Dennis promised.

* * *

Dennis's summer ending: Dennis leaned back in the armchair in his room, moaning in pleasure. David was kneeling between his legs, sucking his cock. As was always the case with David, Dennis was forcing him to do so with his psychic powers. David gagged as his head pushed all the way down Dennis's shaft of its own volition.

David was also being forced to kneel with his back arched and his jockstrap-clad ass sticking out. Dennis was using his levitation powers to lazily paddle David's taut bottom at the same time. David was wearing a spiked dog collar, an additional touch of humiliation for the frat's alpha dog pledgemaster.

Dennis had tormented David's ass all summer long, using his powers to keep the muscleman at his beck and call, privately, when nobody was around. He knew David wanted, needed this dose of humiliation. He had been craving for somebody to take him down now and then, and when Dennis developed his powers, it was all it took to allow the man to let his secret bottom side out to play.

But Dennis's powers also forged a strong mental connection with David, and he could tell that the man's interest in bottoming was slowly waning with each punishment session. A craving that had been kept secret for years was being fulfilled, and so that need would go into remission for a bit until the craving returned.

Dennis was aware he was about to blow, and mindful of safety, he forced David to pull off and bring him to a climax with his hand instead. David obliged, not being given any other choice in the matter. Dennis even arranged for David to position himself so that when he finally came, it splattered all over David's chest. He then mentally forced the man onto his hands and knees again, licking Dennis' toes as the paddling continued. Using only his telekinesis, he stroked David's cock, causing it to throb in pleasure, creating that amazing combination of pleasure and pain that jocks in the frat just loved. For several minutes, David sucked on Dennis's toes as the paddle whacked away at his ass and his dick throbbed. Finally, Dennis relented and allowed the boxer to blow his load and after a few more good, hard whacks, let the man collapse to the floor and relax. The paddle levitated itself back onto Dennis's wall.

"So, Bitch Boy, think you've paid your dues for being such a bastard the past few years?"

"Uhhhh, yeah," he whimpered.

"You gonna stop?"

"Hell no," he said as he regained his strength.

Dennis laughed. "Dude, you better not. This has been way too fun. But know this: I've got your number for good now." Dennis tapped the side of his head. "I don't need those monks to tell me when you need your ass beat. I know it. You go back to being that alpha dog. The brothers need it. We can have that other kind of fun together, teaming up to beat jock ass. But I'll know when you need to be taken down a notch and I'll be ready to provide another steaming dose of humiliation."

"You damned well better," David said, sprawling out on the floor to stretch out from the forced kneeling. "It'll be too much trouble to find somebody else to do it." The two men laughed.

* * *

David's summer ending: It was 3 a.m. David stood at the door to Brian's room, an evil grin on his face that nobody else could see. His victim lay on his stomach, sleeping soundly, unaware of the terrible, terrible fate awaiting him.

David stepped in, clutching his familiar paddle that Brian had felt several times a week for a couple of years now. But tonight would be different, thanks to Dr. Pete. He crept over to Brian's bed, slowly pulling down his covers, carefully so as not to awaken the hunky, dark-haired wrestler with the bottom that proudly refused to quit. Brian mumbled softly but didn't wake. David stared for a minute at Brian's beautiful butt. His ass had healed in his sleep, and even after having a few months to get used to their powers, it was still a surprise to see the voracious spanking bottom without any welts or marks.

David lifted the wrestler's tail out of the way. The thing had quickly become such a natural part of Brian that it seemed at this point at it had always been there. Everybody always stared at his ass anyway. He pulled out a tube of cream that Dr. Pete had given him. He'd told David it would bring the paddle play with him and Brian to a "new level." He'd also said to rub the cream on Brian's ass cheeks, but not to get it on his hands, so he squirted some of the cream on a washcloth and slowly began to rub it on Brian's glutes.

Brian slowly awoke as he felt the contact. "Mmmm... I have a gentleman caller," he joked. "Officer, the man broke into my room and gave me a butt massage, while I was sleeping. I swear that's how it happened. No, I don't want him arrested. I want his phone number."

"Aww, you're so cute," David said as he finished rubbing the cream across both cheeks. He set the tube and washcloth aside. Then he cracked his knuckles dramatically and grabbed Brian by the tail. He lifted it up a bit so that his ass was up in the air and then raised his paddle.

"What, no more foreplay? I was hoping for more fun."

"Oh, buddy, you have no idea. Say hello to a brand new world of pain." He swiftly cracked the paddle down right across the center of Brian's ass. WHACK! Brian gasped and then... "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" He nearly shrieked in pain, his cry echoing through the entire frat house. "WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME!!!" He looked over his shoulder, his eyes wide with fear. A single swat from David had never, ever hurt like that before. Not even when he smacked him with his energy aura glowing. It still hurt, like the paddle was still smacking the hell out of his ass. "FUCK IT HURTS!"

David responded with an evil laugh. "Dr. Pete told me you'd respond like this. He suggested that I tell you to get an explanation from Jorge. He apparently knows all about this lovely cream the doc gave me. But for now, my rebellious little troublemaker, you are going to discover what life in the frat holds for you this semester." WHACK! The paddle smacked back down again. Brian gasped in pain and his bottom quivered in shock. Brian was not normally a squirmer, but he found himself unable to stop himself. His legs kicked and spasmed with each swat and he even found himself reaching back to try to protect his ass. But David kept whacking away. In no time at all tears were flowing from the muscle bottom. He wailed and whimpered as each swat brought him to levels of pain he hadn't felt since he was a newcomer to the world of spanking.

After several minutes of relentless paddling and shrieks of pain, Brian did something he hadn't done in a long time: He started begging David to stop. "Please stop!" he whimpered as his cheeks quivered in a way the brothers normally associated with Jason taking licks. "Seriously, oh god, I can't take it any more!"

David stopped for a moment and laughed. "Ah... see... here's the thing," he said. "Remember your little session with Dr. Pete downstairs? Remember what he said to me? You don't have limits any more, my humpy little wrestler toy. The time has come to expand what you think you can handle. No more limits, pretty boy. You're going to wish you were a pledge again the way I'm gonna treat you."

"Oh noooo," Brian moaned.

"Oh yes," David responded. "Let me show you something." He showed Brian his wristwatch, which appeared to be glowing blue in the darkness. "The Augurer was nice enough to enchant this for me. It shows whether the guy I'm punishing is producing discipline energy or abuse energy. It's intended to help me figure out who else in the frat might be troublesome little rebels like you and need their asses tore up good. As you can see, you're producing exactly the right kind of energy. Complain all you want, but we both know this is exactly what you really want, boy. The trolls and I are going to be tearing your ass up this whole school year. You're going to be going to bed crying. Every. Single. Night."

With that dire warning, David raised the paddle up as far back as he could and gave Brian his evilest grin. Brian's eyes widened, and then squinted shut as the paddle cracked down very hard across his bottom. His hollering and pleading for the punishment to end echoed through the halls for a good hour. He did indeed end up going back to sleep sobbing, clutching his extremely sore bottom like a little boy.

"If it makes you feel any better, think of what good all your pain is going to do for this city," David said when he was done, smirking as he left the room.

* * *

Brian's summer ending: On the heels of his upgraded punishment session, Brian was summoned to visit Andrew Porter, who was still recovering from his injuries, but was in much better shape. He had been set up one of his offices in Blitz Towers as a private hospital room.

Brian wandered his way into the room. His bottom was still nearly quivering. David had popped back into the room in the morning to give him another paddling to activate his powers, whether he wanted one or not. The cream had still been in effect and he got torn up quite good, left bawling again on his bed. Eventually he tracked down Jorge, who explained the horrible origins of the cream and laughed at Brian's new predicament.

Andrew's bed was propped up and he was working the best he could, reading over paperwork. His bare, muscular chest was covered with bandages. Some of his thick red chest hair had had to be shaved off for surgery, but he appeared to be in good spirits.

"Hey there, hero!" Andrew said, smiling at him. "I was a bit out of it, but I understand I owe you my life."

"Jorge helped too," Brian said, blushing.

"True. I'll make sure all his new monk friends reward him appropriately." He winked at this, then gestured Brian over to the bed. "You're the one I wanted to talk to though. Come here." Brian walked over to his side. Andrew immediately reached over and grabbed his tail, turning him around to fondle the wrestler's round bottom in his tight jeans. "How's that ass of yours?"

Brian winced a bit. "It's sore as hell! David has started tearing the hell out of it. Between him and the trolls, I think I can get my ass cheeks legally reclassified as bongos."

Andrew laughed as he slowly peeled the young man's pants down to get a better look. His ass was a nice dark red with purple welts, well framed in the jock.

"Yes, I know. I want to talk to you about that. How do you feel about it, really? Be honest."

"I..." He stopped to think for a minute as Andrew quietly massaged his left cheek with one of his massive hands. "It makes me a little nervous, but also a little thrilled. Excited kind of. I have butterflies in my stomach, not knowing what's going to happen next. It's kind of like..."

"Being a pledge again?" Andrew completed.

"Yes! Exactly!"

"Do you like that feeling? Is that what you would like, deep down?"

"Ummm... am I committing myself to anything with my answer?"

"Maybe. A little bit. But it sounds like David has already committed you anyway."

"Yeah. I like that tension. It makes all the acting out worthwhile."

"Exactly. I want to show you something." He grabbed a nearby remote and clicked on the television hanging from the wall past the bed. He flipped a few channels until he landed on security footage inside the building. After a few more clicks, they landed on an interesting scene. Jacob Brass was strapped down on a spanking horse, his briefs pulled down to expose an extremely sore-looking bottom. Surrounding him were a handful of men in suits. They were taking turns beating Jacob's ass with paddles, straps, canes, whatever they got their hands on. On a table next to the horse were other punishment tools, as well as dildoes, butt plugs, condoms, lube and other play toys. Jacob was gagged and whimpering at the pain, but the men laughed at his struggles.

"Is he being punished for something?" Brian asked.

"No, they're being rewarded," Andrew explained. "Ad revenue for their program is up two percent over last quarter."

"And so they get to beat the hell out of Jacob?"



"Jacob works for me beyond being a professional wrestler. His official job title is 'Whipping Boy.'"

"What does that mean?"

"His job is to be beaten. Paddled, smacked, molested, fucked, whatever. His ass is the property of Blitz Media according to his work contract, and we do with it what we please. When employees do a good job, beating his ass is a reward. When employees are stressed out, beating his ass is a stress reliever. When he's not out fighting crime or wrestling, he's getting his ass beaten raw."

"He told me that, but I just kind of thought he was exaggerating."

"He's not. In exchange, he of course gets that endless amount of punishment he needs. He also clears seven figures in income every year. And the Adepts of Discipline get a consistent source of pain energy to help defend against the Circle of Thorns."

"You're offering me a job?"

"Not yet. I want you to finish college first. But yes, I would love to see Jacob get some company and you get what you crave. David is operating under Dr. Pete's suggestions for your treatment, and I'm the one who instructed Pete. For your senior year of college, David and your new troll friends are going to work your ass over like the Family getting their hands on a mob informant. They're going to find brand new ways to inflict pain on that beautiful ass of yours. They're going to be ruthless bastards and they're not going to take no for an answer. And after your graduation ceremony I'm going to ask you how you felt about it. And I will have a contract ready for you if you decide that what you need is to be at the permanent mercy of a tower full of ruthless bastards."

"Wow," Brian muttered. "Seven figures, you say?"

Andrew laughed. Despite the pain of his wounds, he roughly grabbed Brian and pulled him over him his across the bed. Brian quivered a bit, expecting yet another spanking. Instead, Andrew explored his ass crack with his thick fingers, eventually stopping to roughly probe Brian's willing rectum. Brian moaned in pleasure. Every frat bottom fantasized about getting fondled by Omega Upsilon Chi's handsome international president.

"Let's talk about that reward, shall we?" Andrew urged.

* * *

Jason's summer ending: Jason had spent most of the summer struggling to improve his powers, with Troy paddling his ass the whole way to keep him focus. Some might wonder how kind-hearted Jason could love a man who was so relentless when it came to his discipline, but Jason knew what he needed. And Troy knew what Jason needed and made sure he got exactly as much punishment as was necessary. This happened to be a whole lot of punishment, but both men were fine with that.

Jason's bottom was cooked gently throughout the day, thanks to Dennis's bun warmer pads. The constant low-level – but not ignorable – pain kept Jason in a constant state of focus. His icy powers were extremely difficult to use, which was a regular source of frustration for him. The Augurer sat him down though, and explained to him that the nature of his powers was the cause, not his lack of ability.

"Your powers are very different from Heat Blister's or Major Fry's," The Augurer explained. "You're not just the opposite of Troy in temperature. His powers are intended to inflict direct pain or destroy when necessary. There are those who have similar types of powers that use ice and cold to achieve these aims. But yours are different. Yours are intended to control, to paralyze... to literally put people on ice. Your powers are more like mine or Dennis's rather than the other boys. You will have a much greater struggle to expand your powers, but you will find ultimately that you will someday be more powerful than other heroes."

Jason nodded. "It's still a huge frustration not to be able to keep up with the others," he said, a little disappointed. "I mean, Dennis is learning faster than any of us, but I'm way behind."

"That's okay," The Augurer said. "As long as you keep moving forward, you'll get there eventually. And you've got Troy blistering your ass the whole way, like you need."

"Heh, yeah." Any time Jason attempted to use his powers and they didn't work right, Troy was there to bend him over and paddle his ass. This helped him focus further.

Unfortunately, it didn't help with the gentle giant's inborn klutziness. Once he saw another ice-manipulating hero speed his way through the city by setting down large patches of ice and sliding quickly across them like a speed skater. He determined that he was going to learn to replicate this stunt. So he laid down a huge patch of ice, took a running start, stepped on the ice... and immediately lost his balance. His feet flew up in the air and Heat Blister watched with a bemused grin as his boyfriend landed on his massive bottom with a teeth-rattling THUD. The bemusement then turned to open laughter, because Jason was wearing his bun warmers, of course, and the slam caused them to push even further into his butt muscles, intensifying the scorch. He howled in pain and squirmed on the ice to flip over and lessen the heat on his backside. Troy insisted that Jason was going to keep on trying, no matter how many times he landed on his ass, and recruited skater Keith to help teach Jason the right moves. And since Keith needed to learn how to be a better spanker, he ordered the burly young man to take the paddle to Jason's enormous cheeks each time he fell. Which was likely going to be often.

Ah, Jason – he never failed to make training fun for everybody.

* * *

Troy's summer ending: The Blister Boyz gathered around a small rocky area on the fringe of Perez Park. It was time for Troy to pay his own punishment dues. It was interesting how it had come full circle. Their adventures all began due to a rare instance of Troy getting publicly paddled. And now, as summer ended, his blond jock bottom was going to be paddled in front of his team buddies and a new group of superpowered friendly rivals. And by a young man with super speed no less, so Troy expected it was going to sting a bit.

Troy ended up losing his bet against Lucky Streak legitimately, even if he hadn't decided to throw it after nearly getting them both enslaved by the Circle of Thorns. During the time the Blister Boyz spent down in Oranbega learning about the city's secrets, the Junkyard Dawgs quickly overtook the Blister Boyz's arrest record for the summer.

The Junkyard Dawgs eventually arrived, Lucky Streak zooming ahead to embarrass Heat Blister with a quick goose while they waited. They were a smaller team than the Blister Boyz – only five members – and maybe a couple of years younger. Heat Blister suspected they became a team once their youngest member reached legal age, which explained why they were new to Paragon City.

"Getting spanked by jail bait," Smaqdown remarked. "How embarrassing." Both Heat Blister and Lucky Streak laughed.

"Hey, it was earned fair and square," Lucky Streak said.

"Yes it was," Troy admitted. "So you picked this spot. How are we going to do this?" This was the exact spot where Troy took Lucky Streak over his knee not long ago and he fully expected the favor to be returned.

Indeed Lucky Streak sat down on a rock and pulled out a wicked little punisher – a Lexan slapper in the shape of a ruler. Something thin and easy to use quickly, and aerodynamic enough to administer superspeed punishment.

"Ooooh," Murky Menace said, grimacing, "that is gonna smart."

"He's been practicing, too," one of the Junkyard Dawgs said ominously, rubbing his own bottom. The young man didn't seem too put out about it, though.

Looks as though Oranbega had drawn a few more heroic spanking fans into the fold, Troy thought as he sauntered over to Lucky Streak, milking it just a bit, before draping his larger body over the thinner young man's lap and raising his butt up. The Junkyard Dawgs made approving noises. Lucky Streak rubbed Troy's muscular butt briefly, slapping it lightly and using "preparation time" to cop a good feel. Once they were both positioned well, he slowly pulled down Troy's spandex pants, enjoying the sight of his perfect bottom encased in its jockstrap.

"Before you get started," Heat Blister said, "What do you think about making this a quarterly bet? Incentive to keep up the good fight. What do you say?"

"Hmmm," Lucky Streak pondered. "What if we did it team versus team? It would have to be five versus five though, that's only fair."

Heat Blister did the mental math. Dennis, David and Walt wouldn't be into that kind of bet, but the