Paul and Mark, What Might Have Been
|by Paul Lewis|
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: 03 Apr 2013
Paul and Mark – What Might Have Been – Crime and Punishment (and Reward!)
Once again we follow our adventures at Medway Court, now aided and abetted by our new friend from “Down Under”, who, arguably, is more mischievous than the two of us put together!
It was around 10.30 p.m. that same evening, when we said our goodnights to the adults and trooped off, en-masse, up the stairs and down the long corridor leading to the wing where our bedrooms were situated. Finn's room was right next door to ours and, originally, had been designed as the adjoining dressing room to the main bedroom where Mark and I slept. Such was the scale of the old house, however, that the dressing-room, on its own, was about the size of a large double bedroom such as one might find in a modern, suburban house of today and it provided more than ample space for one occupant.
There was a connecting door between the two rooms, which we had unlocked and opened, so as to facilitate the “after lights-out” chatter between the three of us which, we felt sure, inevitably, would ensue.
Mark and I entered our room, Finn following us in and, after switching on the light, we closed the door. There had been some talk, downstairs, about a game of “Uno” or “Boggle” before turning in and I headed over to the bedside cabinet, where we had stored our cards and games.
As I moved between the beds, I glanced at Mark's and did a sudden double-take. There was a cylindrical shape, about a foot long and of roughly three inches diameter, concealed beneath the covers. I looked at my bed and, lo and behold, a similar object was to be seen there as well. I looked round at the other two boys.
“What the hell...?” I began. Mark just looked mystified and came over to join me, but Finn hung back, his mischievous grin growing ever broader. Grasping the upper sheet of my bed, I lifted and flung it back.
“Oh, no! I don't believe it!” Lying on the sheet, was a carefully tied-off, glistening, water-filled condom, its micron-thin rubber membrane strained to bursting point. Mark lifted his top sheet to reveal another, identical item. “Shit! Where did those come from... Fiiiinn???”
Looking round, we saw our young friend shaking with barely-suppressed laughter. “Watch it, blokes, touch 'em the wrong way and they'll bust, all over the sheets!”
Speechless for a second, we just stared at him then, moving as one, slowly bore down on him in a pincer movement from either side, while Finn backed away, giggling, both hands held up in front of him, as if to ward us off. “Now, nah violence guys, t'was only a friendly joke!”
We backed him, inexorably, into a corner of the room and each, simultaneously, clapped a hand on his shoulders. Struggling to contain my urge to laugh, I looked him directly in the eyes, “You're nicked, mate!” then glanced sideways at Mark who, also, was shaking with stifled laughter.
“Do we spank him now, or after we move the rubbers?”
I considered. “After. That way, if one bursts and soaks the bed, he gets double.”
“What happens if they both burst and soak both beds?”
I looked at Finn, who was still tittering. “Well, in that case, he gets quadruple!”
“Hey, blokes, that's not fair, you haven't said what single is yet!”
“We'll work it out as we go along!” said Mark, with a grin. “Any way you look at it, you're going to bed with a very sore arse!”
“Hang on a minute!” protested Finn. “What about the deal? I've still got that rain-check don't forget – I still get to spank ya,” he went on, looking at Mark, “then I watch the two of ya spanking each other!”
“Yes,” I said, “but there wasn't any sub-section in the contract allowing for water-filled condoms in beds! Sure, we'll honour the deal, but you're going over our knees first!”
“Aw! Anything I can say to make ya reconsider?”
“Nope!” said Mark, “but we might just reduce your sentence a bit, if you help us move those things safely to the wash-basin.”
“About two smacks each!” I replied, with an evil grin.
Finn pulled a face, then subsided a moment before continuing, hopefully, “I can show ya how to move 'em without breaking 'em!”
I looked at him in resignation. “Don't tell me; you and your mates pull this trick on each other back in Australia?”
He nodded. “Yep. Ya got it! What ya need to do, is slide a flat board right close up to 'em and roll 'em very carefully onto it. That way, they won't bust and ya can move 'em safely. Look, I'll show ya!”
He climbed onto a chair and reached up onto the top of the huge, old-fashioned wardrobe, fetching down a dusty old sheet of hardboard about a couple of feet in length and a foot wide.
“Where did you find that?” I asked him.
“It was down the side of the bed in my room,” replied Finn. “That's how I moved the rubbers to start with!”
“Dare I ask why you've got a packet of condoms with you?” enquired Mark. “I can't believe, even with your mates, you've been using those for their intended purpose!”
“Oh nah, mate! We just use 'em for jokes and the like. Later, I'll show ya how to put
one over ya head and blow it up through ya nose, breathing through ya mouth!”
This revelation was just too much; Mark and I simply howled, bent double with laughter until we could barely stand. “Come on!” gasped Mark, when he had recovered enough, “Let's get those bloody rubbers off our beds and then we can get on with giving our joker here, a good, hard spanking!”
“Aw, come on blokes! I said I'd help you move 'em. You won't really spank me after that, will ya?”
“Yes, we will!” we replied in unison.
“Aw well, guess it was worth a try!” Finn flashed us that engaging grin again, then brought the board over to Mark's bed. He placed it very carefully on the sheet, right next to the delicate, quivering membrane.
“Now. Just press down on the edge of the board, so it digs into the sheet,” he said to Mark. With the board flush to the surface of the sheet, Finn and I rolled the condom, very gently onto it. Carefully lifting the board, I carried it to the wash-basin and, as I tipped the distended membrane off, it burst, sending a wave of water washing over the rim of the basin, to drip onto the floor.
“There ya go, told ya!” said Finn. “That's how t'do it”
“OK, but there's still another one to go. Let's get rid of that first,” said Mark. We repeated the process but, this time, Finn took hold of one end of the board as Mark went to lift it.
“Hey, careful, let go!” said Mark. “Woah! Watch it, It's tipping!” It was too late. The quivering, balloon-like mass slid off, onto the floor where it ruptured, sending about a couple of pints of water splashing over our legs and feet and soaking that part of the carpet.
I slowly shook my head, as we all three gazed down at the mess. “Bloody hell! Why didn't you let go?”
Finn gave us his most appealing look. “Aw, sorry blokes, it was just after all the trouble I went to, to set it up, we just couldn't waste both of 'em, now could we?”
Mark and I just stared at him, then Mark buried his face in his hands, shaking his head in pretended despair. “Finn!” he exclaimed through his fingers, “You are a very, very baaad laaad! And you know what happens to bad lads, don't you!”
“Ah, they get told off and warned not to do it again?”
“They get grounded for a week and not allowed down the beach?”
Finn pretended to consider carefully. “Ah, they don't get spanked hard on their bare arse do they?”
“Third time lucky! Come on Paul, let's show this naughty young Aussie what happens
to very bad lads!”
I grinned broadly, pulling out a couple of pillows and placing them, strategically, at the dry side of my bed. “Best get a towel,” I said to Mark, “just in case of any accidents!”
All set up, we turned to Finn, who was putting on his most appealingly innocent expression. “Right, young Finn, let's start by getting those jeans off!”
Without any more protest, Finn bent, untied the laces of his trainers, removed them and slid them neatly under the bed. Then he unclipped the waistband of his jeans and undid the buttons, one by one. Grinning as he did so, he slowly slid them down and off, draping them over the end of the bed. Now he stood before us, in Tee-shirt, boxers and bare feet.
“Pants off too!” ordered Mark and Finn obeyed, pushing the boxer-shorts down to his ankles and stepping out of them, leaving him standing before us, naked from the waist down. His cock, I noticed, was already half-erect, sticking out horizontally in front of him.
“Right!” I said briskly, “Up and over!” Finn hoisted himself up, positioning himself with the pillows directly beneath his hips, his cock tucked flat under him, with shoulders and chest comfortably resting on the bedcover. I grasped the hem of his Tee-shirt and slid it right back to his shoulders and there he was – a naked, naughty young boy in the absolutely prime position for a good arse-smacking.
“Wow!” breathed Mark, running his hand over the well-rounded, golden-brown orbs. I joined him, rubbing the smooth skin from the small of his back to his thighs, then moved my hand down, gently pushing his legs apart. Finn responded, spreading his legs as far as he could, showing his taut balls and raised himself slightly, indicating, quite clearly, what he wanted. I grinned at Mark, who reached down and, gripping the small, firm bollocks, massaged and rolled them in his hand, tickling and teasing them, lightly scratching the sensitive scrotum and the silky skin between that and the boy's tight hole.
“Mmmm! Ohhhh! Ahhhh!” moaned Finn, quietly, as we played with and teased, his most intimate parts.
“Haha! I think our Finn is enjoying this,” laughed Mark, after a couple of minutes. “Don't know about you, but I reckon it's time for his spanking!”
“Too right!” I agreed, enthusiastically. “I'll take left, you take right!”
So saying, we both planted a hand on Finn's back, holding him in place and then let fly. I smacked his left buttock hard, whilst Mark, simultaneously, landed a stinging slap on the right. Finn bucked and drew in his breath sharply as we got down to it, smacking him steadily and hard. At first, with his legs still well-spread, we concentrated on his lower crack, spanking the sensitive curves, where they sloped down to his neat bulls-eye. Then, moving up again, we tanned the peak of the compact buttocks, grinning at each other, as the golden-brown skin took on a distinctly reddish tinge.
Unsurprisingly, after about half a minute of intensive spanking, Finn was squirming and kicking
vigorously, half-laughing, half-crying, his legs flying in all directions. “Ohh! Ahh!
Owwww!” he cried, as the resounding smacks echoed round the room. “Oooh, ya bastard!”
the last remark coming in response to a particularly hard slap from Mark, on the crease between
his lower buttocks and the tops of his thighs. We looked at each other, grinning broadly.
“Reckon that's enough?” I asked. “After all, this is the third good spanking he's had, in the last eight hours!”
“Yeah, guess so! Let's just give him another six each, right on the peak!” We took it in turns to deliver the final smacks, right, left, right, left, Finn doing his best to limit his cries to stifled grunts, until the last twelve stingers had finished the job of painting the pert globes an all-over, bright, hot, scarlet.
Finn let out his breath in a long sigh. “Jeeezusss guys! That was some spanking!” He wriggled his bottom. “Reckon my arse'll be as tough as you blokes', by the time I go back to Australia. Then the blokes back home'd better watch out!”
We laughed and I patted him on the shoulder. “Reckon you're pretty tough already, mate! That was a bloody hard spanking, definitely as hard, or harder, than anything we ever did with each other when we were your age! C'm'on, up you get!”
We helped pull Finn to his feet and, for a few moments, he jigged from one foot to the other, furiously rubbing his ferociously smarting bottom, his rigidly-erect cock bouncing up and down in front. We, too, had large bulges straining the fronts of our jeans, the inevitable consequence of the splendid show we had just enjoyed.
“Anyway,” I continued, “when did you get a chance to get up here and plant those rubbers in our beds?”
Finn looked up, his normal, cheerful expression fully restored. “Just after tucker, when you blokes went to help wash the dishes. Didn't think you'd noticed I'd gone for ten minutes.”
“Oh, so that's where you went,” laughed Mark. “Actually, I did notice you'd disappeared, when we went to help with the washing up. Just thought you'd had a conveniently-timed call to the toilet!”
“Oh, nah! It wasn't that I didn't want to help with the dishes —”
“Riiiiiight!” interjected Mark knowingly, “I believe you – not!”
“— but it was too good a chance to miss. Ya know, to get in with the first prank. Back home —”
“In Or-straiiilia!” I interrupted, with a grin, dodging quickly out of the way, as Finn aimed a friendly punch at my arm.
“— when we do a sleep-over at a mate's place, there's usually quite a few of us and we have a bit of fun, seeing who can play the first joke, so that's what I wanted to do with you blokes. It was even better tonight though, with the spanking stuff and all!”
“Oh, jeez, that's classic,” I said, tousling Finn's blond hair and, on impulse, all three of us threw our arms about each other's shoulders in a joint hug, firmly sealing the bond between Mark and I and our new friend from “Down Under”.
“... Anywaaay,” went on Finn, once we had broken apart again. “Now ya've both gone and spanked my arse red,” he turned, waggled his bum at us and gave it another rub, “What about our deal? I'm callin' in my rain-check!” He looked at Mark. “now, Mark here's the only one of us three who's got away with no spanking at all today, so I reckon we start with him! Also, as I was last one spanked, guess it should be me who tans his backside! That's the rules—”
“In Or-stralia!” I put in and Finn whacked me hard on the bum. “Hey watch it,” I said, “you're the only one with a bare arse at the moment!”
“Zip it, will ya!” he exclaimed, with a grin. “As I was sayin... I get to wallop Mark's arse but, as I'm the youngest and ya're both stronger and tougher than me, I reckon I should use – hang on a mo!”
Mark and I looked at each other, bursting with laughter as Finn, his bare red bum still on full display, turned and ran through the connecting door, into his room. He emerged a moment later, holding an old ping-pong bat, the dimpled rubber missing from one side, revealing bare plywood.
“Oh what!?” exclaimed Mark. “Where the hell did that come from?”
“Out of an old chest in there,” replied Finn, jerking his head towards the door. “Anyway, as Paul got caned this afternoon, but we don't have the cane here, reckon I should use this old bat instead!”
“Hmm, sounds fair to me,” I commented.
“Oi!” said Mark, “just who's side are you on???”
“Let's vote on it,” I suggested brightly. “All those in favour, raise their right hands!” Finn's hand immediately shot up, as did mine and we both turned to look, expectantly, at Mark.
“OK, OK, you win!” he said with a rueful grin, slowly lifting his hand into the air, to make it unanimous.
“Get ya kit off then, mate!” commanded Finn, “the whole lot, bollocko!”
Mark gave another, slightly apprehensive, grin, then pulled his Tee-shirt over his head and threw it onto a chair. Next, he unlaced his trainers, took them off and stuffed his socks inside them