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The Blister Boyz
Chapter 44: Throwdown

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: 22 Nov 2010

Blister Boyz — Ch. 44: Throwdown

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

The villians:
Dr. Howard Grand – Master Manacle
Jeremy McIntosh – Thornscourge
Xian Sheng – Ambush Viper
Maj. Paul Greeley – Holler
Ben “Buddy” Smith – Granite Growl
Roger Collier – Jolt Jammer
Argus Penn – The Corrupter

The Blister Boyz gave the fight all they could, they really did. But the reality was that had only had a couple of days to look over the files on the Crimson Brotherhood. They were woefully incomplete. They knew what powers the men had, but not the strength or how versatile they were.

Furthermore, there were only files on six of the men, and there were seven here. They had no idea who the handsome man in the brown robes was. And their early thoughts on fight strategy didn't even consider the idea that Master Manacle would have brought his paddlebots with him.

Nevertheless, they made a go of it. In their brief analysis they had decided on two of the villains to be the initial targets: Holler and Ambush Viper. Holler was selected because none of the Blister Boyz had any defenses against sonic attacks that they knew of. Ambush Viper of course was a target because of his ability to turn invisible.

Murky Menace actually landed the first blow as the Blister Boyz charged the Brotherhood. He surrounded himself in shadows and teleported right behind Holler and gave him a good punch in the back of the head to blind him. He then tried to grapple the man from behind and push him to the ground to keep him from directing his sonic attacks at anybody.

Unfortunately for Brian, Holler's military training was quite extensive, including hand-to-hand combat. After a brief but heated struggle, Holler was able to throw Murky Menace free, and though he couldn't see very well through the shadowy haze, Holler's sonic attack really only needed close proximity. A strong shriek caused Brian to clap his ears together and fall on his knees.

The Humiliator started off similarly strong. Ambush Viper was his target, and he quickly used his telepathic skills to fill the young ninja's mind with distracting images of ... well ... hot, naked men. This made it impossible for Ambush Viper to concentrate enough to turn invisible. Even fighting with his sword would be a challenge.

But then, just as with Murky Menace, the Humiliator's advantage was short-lived. He suddenly found himself getting very sleepy. He scanned the battle and noticed the unfamiliar robed man staring at him, smiling, his eyes glowing purple. He tried to change focus of his powers to the man, but he couldn't. He slowly collapsed to the ground, unconscious, sleeping.

After that, the fight fell apart. Smaqdown meant to keep Granite Growl occupied while Heat Blister and Ice Hazer wore him down with their powers, but he was just too resistant. He grabbed Smaqdown and slammed him down to the ground with a mighty thud, then picked him up and hurled him at Heat Blister, knocking them both down. Ice Hazer found himself attacked by Master Manacles paddlebots, and the robots also proved very resistant to his ice control powers. He ended up wrapped up in one's steel tentacles, and while the fight continued on around him, suffered the indignity of having his spandex pants pulled down and his big muscular bottom getting paddled by the machine right then and there.

Major Fry tried to play keep-away with Jolt Jammer, thinking he would be resistant to the matching electrical powers. But while this worked as a distraction in the short term, Holler, free of Murky Menace (who was now unconscious as well) joined the fray and stunned Major Fry. Another spankbot came to collect the young man and he was punished next to Ice Hazer. Heat Blister and Smaqdown soon joined the pair.

Poison Punisher and The Sticking Point quickly found themselves entangled in thorny vines that Thornscourge summoned from the dirt beneath their feet. Poison Punisher discovered that his radiation powers did him no good here. They actually made the plants stronger and soon he was hopelessly entangled, unable to escape.

The Sticking Point's strength and sharp quills allowed him to rip himself free. He and Thornscourge actually traded literal barbs. Keith's bony quills stuck into Thornscourge's flesh, weakening him. However, Thornscourge's wooden barbs did the same to the Sticking Point. The two appeared to be at a painful impasse, until Ambush Viper, no longer affected by the Humiliator's mental powers, snuck up behind The Sticking Point and whacked him on the back of the head with the hilt of his sword, knocking him out.

The fight was over, and Master Manacle hadn't even done anything but watch.

Granite Growl grabbed the unconscious Murky Menace and Humiliator and threw them over each of his massive shoulders. The remaining six Blister Boyz were wrapped up in the torso tentacles of the spankbots and were delivered in a line in front of Master Manacle, each of them being paddled good and hard by the machines. Master Manacle let the punishment go on for a bit while Holler unlocked a large metal crate Granite Growl had carried in for them. He pulled out high-tech metal cuffs and handed them out to the Brotherhood. The pain of the paddlings kept the boys from offering much resistance as the villains snapped the manacles on their wrists and ankles.

“Paddlebots, halt discipline,” Master Manacle ordered once the Brotherhood had finished. The robots stopped paddling the Blister Boyz, who squirmed and struggled to escape. Smaqdown was beating on the chest of his spankbot with a glowing fist, but he wasn't doing any good.

“Dammit! What are you bastards doing?” Heat Blister demanded. “Let us go! We haven't done anything to you!”

“Blister Boyz, cease your struggles immediately,” Master Manacle responded. Much to the boys' surprise they immediately stopped fighting and fell limp in their bonds.

“Good, good,” Master Manacle purred. “Blister Boyz, raise those asses of yours up in acceptance of your punishment.” Once again, the six boys found themselves arching their backs and raising their bottoms up, spreading their legs slightly to show a willingness to be punished.

“Blister Boyz, I am Master Manacle,” he continued. “I'd like to welcome you to the Crimson Brotherhood. Expect to be our guests for a long, long time. Paddlebots, continue discipline.”

As the boys started shouting their objections, the paddling began again. Master Manacle order the Paddlebots to follow him, continuing the punishment, as the Crimson Brotherhood returned to the high-tech Arachnos warship that brought them here, their new slaves in tow.

Murky Menace and the Humiliator dreamed ...

Brian was on trial yet again, his exposed chattering backside prompting the trolls of the courtroom to paddle him raw over and over again. He had been having this dream every night. After the punishment had blistered him raw, the mysterious Jeff would show up with his special black wood paddle. He would give Brian a bunch of swats with it, and then his ass would feel the trolls' punishment and complain, but Brian himself felt nothing.

This time Jeff showed up early in the punishment. In the fight, though, Brian had focused on Holler and didn't notice the handsome young man's resemblance to the man in the robes at Siren's Call.

“Hey buddy, how are things going?” Jeff asked.

“Sore as usual,” Brian said. His ass laughed at him and then gave out a big fart.

Jeff snapped his fingers and the scene stopped. “I have good news,” he said.


“I can stop the pain for good. Make sure your ass is the one who feels the pain and not you.”

“Hey, that's not fair,” Brian's ass whined.

“There's a catch though,” Jeff said.

“What's that?”

“You gotta hang with me, bro. It only works when I'm around. Gotta do what I say. My paddle and all.”

“Is that so?” Brian scoped him out. He was a pretty hot guy. Not that Brian was very picky.

“It's just dreams though, you know. It's not like this is real. Don't worry, bro, we'll have some fun!” Brian laughed. His ass whimpered.

“You're on, buddy. Let's have some fun!”

Jeff walked behind him, grinning. His eyes glowed violet as he raised the paddle and smacked it across Brian's complaining bottom. One down, one to go.

In Dennis's dream, he was back across Coach Baldwin's knee, getting a deliciously unending “Coach's Prize” spanking. He had been having this dream every night ever since he got a real one, reliving it over and over again.

“You got a nice ass, boy,” the coach drawled. “Goes to show every guy's got a little bottom in him. You disagree?”

“Don't stop,” Dennis moaned. His dick was rigid with an erection from his time on Baldwin's Plateau. He never wanted the punishment to end. His belief that he was a complete top melted away.

“I wanna try somethin' with you, boy,” Garrett said, keeping the spanking going. “You up for it?”

“What is it?” Dennis said, trying to focus through the perfect ratio of pleasure and pain.

“Trying to work the paddle into the coach's prize,” he said. “Been practicin' a bit. Wanna give it a go?”

“Oh, I'm not sure. I'm not really a paddle guy. As a bottom, I mean?”

“I'll make it worth your while,” he said. “I just need to practice it on a nice smaller target. Gotta readjust for different sized guys, you know.”

“What will I get?”

“I'll let you help me out with punishing my boys,” Garrett said. “I know you get your hands on them now and then in the frat, but this would be more regular. Get your chance to really show them who's boss?”


“Yup,” Garrett stopped the spanking and kneaded Dennis's firm round cheeks. “You just gotta use them skills of yours and paddle who I tell you to paddle. It's just that simple. Let me give you a few swats with this ...” He reached over to his desk and picked up a small black wooden paddle, “and you can help me punish those boys good and raw. Lord knows they need it. Wattaya say?”

Dennis thought about for a few moments. He remembered getting paddled by David when he was first learning how to activate his powers and it wasn't really as bad as he thought it would be. It was a pretty lightweight paddle. And getting to help punish the football team. Well, that was a whole other dream of his.

“All right, coach,” Dennis said. “I trust you. I'll take the swats.”

“Good boy,” the man said. “Dennis was looking at the floor, so he didn't see the coach's eyes glow purple as he raised the paddle up. It came down firmly across Dennis's red cheeks. Dennis gasped, then sighed as he accepted the swats.

And with that paddling, the last of the Blister Boyz became a slave of the Crimson Brotherhood.

Several hours later, Andrew Porter was pacing in front of his desk in his secondary office down in Oranbega, The Augurer sitting nearby with several files. The two were discussing the Blister Boyz' disappearance and the information the Adepts of Discipline had already begun to gather.

“The monks are editing together the visions we were able to see of the boys' capture,” The Augurer said. “They'll let me know as soon as we can view what happened from as many angles as possible, for as long as we were able to scry.”

“There's no question they were taken to Rogue Isles, though,” Andrew said.

“I would bet my own ass on it,” The Augurer said. “We lost magical contact with them as they reached the open sea. The paddlings the boys were getting finally crossed the line from discipline to abuse. Walt was the final hold-out. No doubt he felt guilty for not predicting an ambush and believed he deserved punishment, but he's not Jacob or even Brian. He can't take it for hours.”

“What about Brian?”

“We are getting no magical readings from him at all. It's very unusual.”

“Is he hurt?”

“We could see him being loaded into the warship, unconscious. He was not being punished. Nor was Dennis. It's possible they weren't being punished because they were unconscious. We are hoping that if they start punishing Brian when he awakens, we'll be able to reestablish scrying capacity.”

“And if that doesn't work?”

“It will drain all of our magic reserves to attempt to scry within Rogue Isles without a discipline source as an anchor, potentially leaving us open to an attack by the Circle of Thorns.”

Andrew sighed.

“Let me make something clear, though, Andrew,” The Augurer continued, “The adepts are prepared to make such a sacrifice. We are all on the same page regarding the importance of the Blister Boyz. We are willing to risk a few men getting captured by the Circle if necessary.”

“Lawrence, I don't want your men turned into satyrs.”
“It'll be temporary, I'm sure,” The Augurer said. “Some of the more masochistic monks have already volunteered. Jacob Brass should be able to rescue them later once the Blister Boyz are safe.”

As if on cue, Jacob Brass strode into the office in a fury, pointing at Andrew.

“They were not ready for this and you knew it,” he yelled at Andrew. “Why didn't you stop this?”

“Jacob, we've all agreed, especially after the mess with Troy over the summer, that we would not attempt to manipulate or control the boys,” Andrew said. “We work for them. They don't work for us. You were completely on board.”

“That doesn't mean we just let them get in over their head!” Jacob shouted back.

“Omega boys always learn their limits the hard way,” Andrew said. “You're about to learn mine if you don't stop yelling.”

“You should have sent me out there with them! You let this happen!”

“That is it,” Andrew growled. “Over the desk with you.” He reached into a desk drawer and pulled out a frat paddle.

“Oh sure, can't deal with me being right again, so you ... .”

“GET YOUR ASS OVER THE DAMN DESK!” Andrew boomed, his face turning red with rage. “NOW!” His voice echoed through the caverns, bouncing off the walls. All the monks cringed and their butt cheeks subconsciously squeezed tight. Somebody had set off the boss and was going to pay.

Jacob narrowed his eyes at Andrew. Andrew stared back and pointed at the desk. With a huff, Jacob relented and bent over the desk, planting his hands, spreading his legs a bit, and sticking his bottom out. He had no choice, really. His private employment contract with Andrew obligated him to submit to any discipline Andrew ordered.

Andrew grabbed the waistband of Jacob's spandex shorts and roughly yanked them down, exposing Jacob's brass-toned backside framed in his jockstap, smooth, flawless and unmarked, but not for long.

“YOU!” CRACK! “WILL!” CRACK! “REMEMBER” CRACK! “YOUR!” CRACK! “PLACE!” CRACK! The paddle smacked hard across Jacob's cheeks between each angry word. Jacob winced after each blow but it would be a while before Andrew would really make an impression on his tough bottom.

The Augurer continued looking over the notes and pictures his adepts had provided as the punishment continued. Andrew's employees referred to their boss's punishment technique when angry as “Punctuation Paddling.” Meaning, when he was upset with somebody, he tended to use the paddle as though it were an exclamation point, at the end of every angry word or phrase.

But Jacob and Andrew both needed each other, Lawrence knew. Few were aware that Jacob was actually the creative spark behind Andrew's empire. It was his rebellious questioning of “the way things are” that pushed the company's innovations. Andrew's skill was in harnessing and focusing Jacob's creative energies with frequent applications of discipline. If corporal punishment did ultimately openly become an integral part of Paragon City's culture, Blitz Media was primed to grow even more, thanks in part to Jacob's ideas combined with Andrew's savvy execution.

Lawrence knew that there was a reason Andrew was busting Jacob's ass beyond being angry. He needed Jacob focused to help with a solution, and so Jacob needed to be pushed into a problem-solving mode submissive to Andrew's needs. The adepts were extremely limited in this situation. The Rogue Isles were dominated by abusers. The Adepts of Discipline had very little