The Blister Boyz
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: 27 May 2013
Blister Boyz — Ch. 50: The Fun House
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
Jacob Brass and The Sticking Point lay bound and gagged, helpless across each of SpankTank's shoulders as the muscular punk bounded through the city, jumping blocks at a time. Smaqdown had recently learned how to travel this way, but was still working on his aim. SpankTank was an expert, easily knowing where to land to avoid police and hero patrols. His Freak Show crew all flew behind him with the help of their electrified cybernetics.
“So, I suppose I should be nice and give you a bit of what to expect,” SpankTank said to Keith. “I'm going to be rough on your ass, but not too rough, because of the whole sloppy seconds issue we got going.” Keith's bottom was still red from his multi-day torment at the hands of Jolt Jammer and the Crimson Brotherhood, but he was the fastest healer of the team and already the welts were fading. “You're going to get punished plenty but only fucked a little bit. I think I'll let you pick out two Freak Show to have their way with you after you've been softened up by the Fun House.”
Keith had been forcefully fucked multiple times by Jolt Jammer and the enslaved Longbow agents. And thanks to the slave manacles, Keith himself had been forced to fuck the Longbow men and even Jolt Jammer. It was a new, painful experience, given that he had only recently lost his virginity to Walt. But it didn't end up hurting as much as the thought it would, given all the punishment he had endured. A month ago he would have been terrified at the thought of being fucked against his will. But he found himself just a little nervous. And the punks were all his type. And he got to pick them out himself.
“I'm gonna give you a sampler of what the Fun House has to offer,” SpankTank said. “And we're gonna film it up all nice and post it on a nice secure site for you and your Omega buddies to watch afterward. And I'll let you see some of Jacob's trip as well, so you can see how I treat veteran heroes.”
Because of Keith's position, he was staring down SpankTank's broad back toward his ass. Most of the punks of the Freak Show were muscular, but slim, more like Jorge or Dennis. They had firm, small bottoms. SpankTank's was big and round. Each cheek was massive, and the tight, ripped jeans he wore emphasized the curves. Keith had no doubt that David, Dennis and Troy would love to break a few paddles across SpankTank's bottom someday. As it was, even bound, Keith's hands were close enough that he could possibly shoot out a spray of spines into those large glute muscles. Keith knew this wasn't a good idea, though maybe SpankTank might laugh it off. He decided not to try.
Keith, like most Paragon City residents, hadn't seen nor set foot in Crey's Folly since it was destroyed during the war with the evil Rikti aliens. The stench of chemicals made nostrils burn and the air was full of a green haze. SpankTank and his crew traveled quickly through the toxic former manufacturing center.
“Look around as we travel through if you're thinking about escaping,” SpankTank said. Keith craned his head to take in his surroundings. There were pitched battles he could make out for moments as they headed toward the Freak Show's territory. Remnants of the Rikti forces fought with strange, giant living plant and rock creatures. Keith had been told they were known as the Devouring Earth, but the Blister Boyz knew little about them yet.
“Frankly, the safest place in Crey's Folly is across my knee, so be careful about trying to run off,” SpankTank said. “Speaking of which, here we are.”
SpankTank bounded into the Freak Show's nest, called “Carnival Town,” which encompassed about a quarter of the district. It was walled off by bolted-together sheets of scrap metal that had been scavenged from the nearby abandoned factories. Freak Show patrols hovered ahead to keep an eye out for encroachment from the other factions fighting for control of Crey's Folly. The buildings inside the nest were powered by either stolen generators or illegally hooked into the city's electrical system, and most of the Freak Show members squatted in them when they weren't out causing mayhem in the rest of the city.
One large building, several stories tall, stood out as it encompassed an entire block. SpankTank landed in front of it with a loud thump.
“Here we are boys,” he said. Then he turned around so Keith could see the front of the building. “Take a good look, Sticking Point!”
The building had been decorated with gaudy colors and flashing lights everywhere, attempting to look like a traditional fun house from a carnival. There were laughing clowns painted all over the walls, just as expected. However, they all had mohawks like the Freak Show and they were all waving paddles. “Welcome to the Fun House!” was spelled out in large neon lights above the open entry into a dark interior. Keith was actually a little impressed with what they did to the doorway. It was two stories tall and shaped to look like an upturned bottom, like an upside-down “W.” There was carnival music emitting from the interior of the building, but they had mixed in the sound of loud paddle swats and cries of pain.
“Are you ready to have some fun, boy?” SpankTank asked. “I know I am!”
The rest of the Blister Boyz arrived back at the Omega compound to find all their brothers, along with Omega International President Andrew Porter, waiting out front. They all cheered at the sight of their hero brothers returning, though they all (except for Brian and Dennis) had a familiar limp.
Bro-style hugs and fist bumps followed. The other brothers tried to play cool about the Blister Boyz returning, but it was clear the whole frat was nervous as hell about their absence. Jason, psychologist-to-be, picked up on the undertone and did what he did best. He showed off his extremely sore butt his brothers and described the punishment he endured, but played it off like an extended and fun hazing session, leaving out the rapes. He made fun of Granite Growl's less-than-stellar spanking technique and said these allegedly sadistic villains had a lot to learn from the Omegas. By the time he explained that the scariest punishment in Rogue Isles actually came at the hands of teammate Dennis, much of the stress had been deflated. He pointed out the visibly sore bottoms of Troy, David and Walt. Since they were known for dishing out the paddlings, not receiving them, the brothers all wanted to take a look. The guys obliged but warned that anybody teasing them would be going to bed with a butt just like theirs.
“Where are the pledges?” Troy asked.
“They're in trouble for disobeying orders,” Terrell said. “Uh, also, you should know they've figured out who you are.”
“What?” Troy said.
“Jason and Keith,” Terrell said. “Ryan and Kyle figured it out from news reports. They confronted us about it and Andrew came in to help us deal with it.”
“I suspected something like that would happen,” Walt said as the team returned inside.
“Ryan was the ringleader,” Terrell said. “They all got their asses beaten raw. Sent them down to the basement, but Ryan's been doing a penny push.”
“You made the right call,” Troy said, “But we better set this all straight with them.”
They headed to the grassy inner courtyard, where they found Ryan pushing a penny down a concrete pathway with his nose, massive ass in the air in just his jockstrap. Nobody was currently paddling him, but his ass was a deep red from previous swats.
“So your big brother goes off on vacation and you think that means you can break all the rules?” Jason said. Ryan responded by leaping to his feet and rushing up to his brother, sweeping him up in a massive hug.
“If these guys think beating my ass is going to keep from worrying about my bro, they don't know me that well,” Ryan said.
“And you just broke the rules again,” Jason said as Ryan hugged him. “You're trying to embarrass me!” They both laughed. In the meantime, Terrell had grabbed the rest of the pledges and let them come up to see the frat's officers had returned. They cheered, and then compared asses to see whose were redder.
“Where's Keith?” Kyle asked, looking worried. Keith was Kyle's big brother and they had grown fairly close. Troy threw a comforting arm over his shoulder.
“He's okay, I promise,” Troy said. “He had some stuff he had to deal with as soon as we got back, but he'll be back at the frat tomorrow.”
“He's not hurt, is he?”
“Not at all,” Troy said. “Well, he's the same kind of hurt as the rest of us, anyway.” That got a little laugh.
“Okay, pledge class of Omega Upsilon Chi, eyes on me!” The brothers calmed down
“So, obviously you know who we are, right?” Troy said. “We hadn't figured out yet how we were going to tell you about the situation. You're our first pledge class since we got our powers. While I am disappointed to hear you boys disobeyed your pledge orders while I was away, I am very happy to hear that you did so out of concern for your own brothers. You are well on your way to becoming part of our family.” The pledges all cheered.
“So know that I am proud of you, not angry with you. However, I am still going to punish you.” That put a stop to the cheering. “You break the rules, you face the consequences. So, first of all, David will be giving each and every one of you a sixty-second ride tonight.” The pledges moaned and clutched their already sore bottoms. “And Hell Week will now become a Hell Fortnight, I think is the term. An extra week of hard-core hazing before you become full brothers.” Then he turned to Ryan.
“You're the ringleader, Ryan. Is that correct?”
“Ryan, you will be considered a pledge until the end of your freshman year, which means that you will be required to submit to your fellow pledges for hazing once they become full brothers.” Ryan nodded. “In addition, it's time for our pledges to learn how to safely deal out the swats, not just take them. Under supervision of David and Dennis, your bottom will be used for this purpose.” The other pledges murmured in amusement. Getting to punish Ryan's big, brawny blond bottom was something to look forward to.
“I bet this punishment sounds familiar?” Troy asked.
“Didn't the same thing happen to Jason?” Ryan said.
“Yup, your big brother screwed up big time with the pledges' curfew and got the same punishment,” Troy said. “So you're in good company.” What the pledges didn't know is that the frat looked for an excuse to dish out this punishment every year to the toughest, most-willing bottom of the pledge class. Handled properly, it actually brought the pledges together even stronger, as long as the president was smart and picked the right guy. Ryan would obviously handle it just as well as his brother did. Once the freshman class learned how to properly haze one of their own, they were less likely to go overboard once they were sophomores and scare away the next crop of pledges.
“David, Ryan gets the first ride across your lap, and then back to the penny push for you. Dennis, as each of the other pledges finishes their ride, you start teaching them how to swing a frat paddle safely on Ryan's big butt there. That's a target you guys have no excuse for missing. Now if you excuse me, I have some work with Mr. Porter here. And once again, I am real proud of you boys.”
David dragged a compliant Ryan over to a bench in courtyard and threw him over his knee and went to work paddling his already raw ass as quickly as possible. David showed Ryan no mercy, knowing that the boy could handle even more punishment than his big brother. He managed to get in more than 150 hard paddle swats in 60 seconds, and Ryan was crying good and hard by the end. But he obediently returned to his ordered penny push when done as David grabbed Rico as his next victim.
“We need to get down to Oranbega to keep an eye on Keith,” Troy whispered to Andrew. He nodded and the two of them left as Rico yelped in pain from David's harsh punishment.
SpankTank pulled Jacob and Keith off his shoulders and let them stand on their own. He removed their gags, but left their hands bound.
“Jacob's being a good boy, I see,” SpankTank said. “I don't know if you've seen him fight, but just binding his hands doesn't make him any less dangerous.”
“We have a deal,” Jacob said, shrugging.
“Yeah, and if you think of bouncing, you know I'll take it out on the kid,” SpankTank said.
“This is kind of amazing,” Keith said. He was so impressed by the work the Freak Show had put into the Fun House that he found that he really wasn't nervous about the punishment he would soon face. Jason and Brian will probably love the place, he thought.
“Wait till you see the inside,” SpankTank said. “All in due time, though.” The other Freak Show flew down with their seven prisoners they took at Siren's Call, the Arachnos soldiers who tried to stop the Blister Boyz' escape.
“Prep Jacob's special program,” SpankTank ordered. “These seven guys will get the default program, but we're gonna take Sticking Point's measurements and prepare him for possible repeat visits.”
“What does that mean?” Keith asked.
“Safety first, boy. Since the house is automated, we want to make sure we're prepared for your visits. Make sure everything is applied to the exact right spot every time.” He patted Keith's exposed bottom for emphasis. “We need to accommodate those wings of yours. We don't want you to get hurt, except for that one particular erogenous zone.”
“You can trust him on this,” Jacob said. “He uses it on his own boys.”
“And don't forget I've put myself through it!” SpankTank said. “You sent me through it once yourself.”
“Looking forward to the next time.”
“Oh, like you don't enjoy losing more,” SpankTank said, giving Jacob's ass a firm swat. “But I may finally have found a weak point on the toughest butt in Paragon City.”
“You don't say,” Jacob said.
“Yeah, we heard about a fight you had with Nemesis that apparently didn't go well,” SpankTank said. “It inspired an addition to the Fun House. We'll see how you respond.”
“Shit,” Jacob muttered.
The Arachnos men were dragged up to the entrance, unwillingly, by the Freak Show punks.
“We'll follow them up, but don't get nervous just yet. I'll let you watch the show before you have your own fun, so we can spend some time together.”
SpankTank escorted the two of them in behind the soldiers. There was what appeared to be an entry queue inside the doorway, as though there would be a line of folks waiting for the ride.
“Sometimes there is a line, for real,” SpankTank said, as if reading Keith's mind. “Generally of Freak Show who don't meet their quotas or lose in our arena matches against heroes.” The men's arms were pulled up in their bindings and connected to feeder chain hooks on the ceiling. The men were then forced to walk through the line to their painful fate or be dragged.
“Welcome to the Fun House,” a recorded voice noted. “The Fun House is a thrilling experience of amazing sights and sensations. Please be advised that this ride may be too intense for the very young, the elderly, or pregnant women. People with heart conditions are advised against visiting the Fun House. If, at any time, you decide the Fun House is too intense for you to continue, please call for an attendant to escort you out.”
“Found that recording a couple of months ago and had a good laugh,” SpankTank said. “I had to use it.”
They followed the dragged men through a hall of mirrors, so the men could see themselves trapped in bondage. They reached the front of the line, where a Freak Show member carefully transferred each hook onto the actual ride. Each man was dragged along for a few feet. Then a large padded metal claw reached down and grabbed each man around the waist and pulled him upward. Their legs left the ground and they were left suspended in the air. The position left them essentially bent over with their butts vulnerable. Metal bars extruded out on both sides of their legs, around mid-thigh and down at the ankles.
“What are those for?” Keith asked.
“We like letting them squirm a bit,” SpankTank said, “But I can't have them trying to protect their asses with their feet. They'll end up breaking an ankle or something.”
As they were dragged off into the fun house, another automated claw reached out and carefully ripped out the backsides of the men's military uniform/armor, leaving their bare butts exposed.
“That was probably the hardest thing to do right,” SpankTank said. “So much potential for, well, missing.”
“Ouch,” Keith said.
“Yeah, and not the fun kind,” SpankTank said. “All right, let's go to the control room so you can watch the fun and see what yer in for while you get prepped.”
SpankTank hustled them through a side door into a large room full of computers and monitors. Dozens of Freak Show were operating computers and watching the monitors. It reminded Keith remarkably like the monks' setup in Oranbega.
“Spike, come here and measure Sticking Point for a personalized harness,” SpankTank ordered. “Oh, and by the way, what is the deal with the camouflage spandex pants?”
“What?” Keith asked, perplexed.
“They don't suit you well. Not with that body. Why are you trying to hide that ass of yours?”
“I don't ... I mean, Major Fry and I ... .”
“Oh, it works on him,” SpankTank said. “But punks in camouflage is so '90s anarchist. That ass screams out for denim. I mean check me out.” He turned to show off his butt again. Keith nodded.
“I will admit that you do fill out those jeans very nicely.”
“I'm half-tempted to let you use your spines on it just to find out what it feels like, but you have to earn it first. Anyway, Spike, get his measurements to Lex and see if we can't get him something that fits his look better.”
Keith said nothing, but thought to himself, this is working, maybe. He wants me to dress like one of them.
As Spike started taking measurements of Keith's body, he watched the monitors. The interior of the Fun House had also been painted to look like its namesake, with spinning tunnels and tilted rooms and the like. But it was all intended as ironic decoration. As the men passed into a large room, they were arranged to move in a large circular pattern. Mirrors along the walls allowed the men to see their bottoms or their companions' bottoms as they were turned in circles. Then mechanical arms with paddles on the end descended from the ceiling. They took position behind each soldier and after a moment, they all began paddling at once, but at different, staggered speeds. The men yelped in pain and squirmed in their harnesses. Keith noticed that the metal bars indeed prevented them from kicking their legs up too far.
“The changes in speeds keep them from prepping for each swat,” SpankTank said. “This room can be set on a timer to have them rotating as long as I like. The default is ten minutes. Given your background, you can expect you and Jacob to be spending a bit more time in here. Same for any of your brothers we get our hands on.”
Keith nodded. He watched men whimper and squirm as their butts turned red. It appeared as though the intensity of the swats also varied widely to make it harder to get “used to” the impacts. Then he noticed Spike putting some sort of bracelet on his right bicep. He was doing the same with Jacob.
“What is this?” he asked.
“The monitors,” SpankTank said. “I wasn't joking when I said I was gonna figure out what makes you boys tick.” He pointed to a nearby monitor that showed vital signs and line graphs. “People think everybody responds to pain the same way, but it's not true, especially if you got a fetish the way we do. Your body sends certain chemical signals when you feel types of pain you like and different signals when you feel types of pain you don't. So with this monitor, I can keep track of your reactions to the Fun House. We will know what turns you on and we'll know what makes you bawl like a little baby.”
Keith looked at his arm, then the monitor, and then back to SpankTank.
“Walt was right about you, wasn't he?” Keith said. “You're probably the smartest guy in Paragon City.” SpankTank responded by winking at him and lighting up a cigar.
Keith looked back up at the monitors. The soldiers had moved on to a lengthy hall that with spinning poles they were navigated around. Thick straps were attached to the poles and they struck the soldiers' bottoms with vicious force as they were pulled around them. The men were all in tears now. A couple were begging to be let go and he could hear them through the monitor.
“You are like some sort of S&M Willy Wonka,” Keith said.
“Is that an insult or a compliment, boy?” SpankTank asked.
“I'm not sure, myself,” Keith said.
“SpankTank is what you'd get if Ice Hazer were a supervillain,” Jacob said.
“That's Jason Klein, right?” SpankTank asked. “I got my hands on his psych paper on pain motivations. Impressive kid. I'm looking forward to getting my hands on the rest of him.”
In the meantime, the soldiers had traveled through a number of rooms where they where whipped with switches and belts, scorched with heat, jolted with electricity, and were then directed into the “rape room,” a large rotating room with mood lighting and cheesy porn music playing. Seven Freak Show members were standing around the room, pants down and erect cocks out. The men all started begging for mercy, more than they had before, as they harnesses forced their vulnerable bottoms into positions around the room. They were locked into place directly in front of each punk, who wasted no time in lubing up their cocks and heartily fucking their prisoners.
“Straight guys are so predictable,” SpankTank muttered. “This is much less painful than the other rooms, obviously, but this room more than any other will keep these guys from ever coming after me or my men again.”
“Whereas for me, it's a reward,” Jacob said.
“Heh, yeah. We'll see how long I let you stay in that room,” SpankTank said. “As for you, Keith, you won't be visiting that room this time. I'll let you and the guys you pick play at your own speed. But future visits will take you into that room, and like the paddle room, I can keep guys spinning in there for a gang bang. Jacob here holds the record at, what, 35?”
“When you lose do you have to go in that room too?” Keith asked.
“Yup,” SpankTank said. “I get fucked by my own boys when I lose. The heroes are allowed, too, but none has taken me up on that offer.”
“I bet Smaqdown will,” Keith said.
“Looking forward to it. Not gonna make it easy, though.”
Eventually, the men's trip through the Fun House concluded. As a final indignity, each man was carried to an exit slide. Bent over, they were lowered so that they could finally stand again on their own feet. As the harness was released a large, cartoonish-looking mechanical boot shot out from behind them and kicked them square in the center of the ass, sending them tumbling down the slide.
“That leads to a chute that will dump them outside Carnival Town,” SpankTank said. “You won't experience it tonight, but if I'm too busy to give you personal attention when you get captured by my boys, you'll get to know it well.”
Spike and some other Freak Show (including the guy who flirted with Keith) came back with pieces of the specialized harnesses for Jacob and Keith.
“Your turn, boys,” SpankTank said as he walked over. He reached behind Keith and firmly pressed his cigar into Keith's left cheek. He grunted and winced at the burn.
“Hey boss,” one of the men said, pointing to the monitor showing Keith's vital signs. “Looks like he kinda liked it.” Keith blushed.
“Look at that blush,” SpankTank marveled. He took a puff from the cigar and then reached back and burned his other cheek. Again he winced in pain, but the punk watching the monitor gave a thumbs up.
“Did you know about that, boy?” SpankTank asked. Keith shook his head no. “Well, than this little Fun House might teach you as much as it teaches us.”
Jacob had been hooked up with a specialized harness that fit his size perfectly. His arms were bound in front of him and his thighs were bound together with a metal tube that allowed him to kick his feet a little, but not kick all the way up and try to block swats. There was also a ring oddly inserted into the seat of his shorts.
“That's new,” Jacob said.
“You'll see why,” SpankTank growled at him.
For Keith, they quickly put together a special harness to deal with his wings. They were forced and held open with a harness that encompassed his chest. Keith realized quickly that the harness would keep him from flapping his wings and would keep him from trying to use them to protect his bottom from swats.
“Does it hurt at all?” Spike asked.
“Does it matter?” Keith asked.
“Of course, boy,” SpankTank said. “We want you focused on yer ass, not yer wings.”
“No, it doesn't hurt,” Keith said.
“We checked his wingspan measurements,” Spike said. “There shouldn't be any issues with them slamming any walls or objects. If it works out, we'll make a better version for the next time he comes calling.”
“Any last words, before yer ass meets destiny?” SpankTank asked.
“Show me what you got, tough guy,” Keith said. SpankTank grinned.
“As you wish.”
Troy invited Walt to join them in Oranbega, since he was the closest to Keith of the Blister Boyz. The rest were left to get the frat back in order. They had managed to get a change in costume first, so their bare, sore bottoms were no longer mooning everybody.
The Augurer greeted them as soon as they got off the elevator when they arrived.
“It's hard for us to see anything with the Freak Show as yet,” the Augurer said as he escorted Troy, Walt and Andrew over to the monks to attempt to watch via scrying crystals. “He's punished the Arachnos soliders, but they produced nothing but abuse energy.”
“Well, once he starts punishing Jacob, we'll get a nice burst of discipline energy to use,” Andrew said.
“From Keith, too, I'm hoping,” Troy said. “He volunteered for this. I still wish I had gone myself, instead.”
“He's gotten good and tough,” Walt said. “He may be able to even keep up with Jacob and Brian soon.”
“I don't have enough magic reserves to contact the boy, unfortunately,” the Augurer said. “I used up all my energy helping Ice Hazer back in Rogue Isles.”
“It's okay, Lawrence,” Andrew said. “That was absolutely vital. We know Keith is going to get through this, even if Keith is worried.”
“It's getting started sirs,” one of the monks said. The scrying crystal flickered into life, providing the men a view of the interior of the Fun House.
SpankTank carried the two heroes back out to the entrance of the ride. They were hooked up to the guiding chain and the purpose of the hoop on Jacob's briefs became quickly clear. Instead of ripping out the seat of his uniform, the metal hoop was yanked upward and connected to the guiding chain as well. It created a massive hanging wedgie supporting the weight of Jacob's back half and exposing his butt cheeks for punishment. Jacob moaned and wiggled.
“That's not the only reason we're keeping your costume intact,” SpankTank said. “You'll see.” SpankTank pressed a button and Jacob was fed into the Fun House.
“Your turn,” SpankTank said. He grabbed Keith, flipped him over in his strong arms, and connected him to the drive chain. With his wings forced spread, it looked like he was going to fly through the fun house. SpankTank pressed the button to send Keith into the Fun House, then reached out and burned Keith's bottom with his cigar one last time before sending him on his way.
The two of them went up to the paddle room first. Keith turned and looked over his shoulder to watch the paddle arm come down. After his experiences with the Crimson Brotherhood, he found himself oddly calm. He looked forward as the paddling started. WHACK! WHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACK! This ... wasn't so bad at all. Sure it hurt like hell, but this was a very familiar pain for Keith by now. He was glad the ride started with a type of pain he had grown accustomed to.
SpankTank forced them to circle the room for twenty minutes before moving them on to the next punishment. That was longer than the soldiers suffered, but neither he nor Jacob felt like the pain was too much.
“Don't underestimate him,” Jacob yelled over to him, as they moved on. “He knows we're both good with the paddle. Things will get harsher.”
They did, almost immediately. They wove between the spinning strap columns. The biting pain immediately reminded Keith of the way his father used to beat him when he was drunk, and suddenly he was fighting back all those angry feelings he used to have before Walt became his mentor. He started to growl in pain as strap after strap blistered his ass. But he would not be broken, not by this. Sure, he began to shed tears, but he was able to focus on being angry rather than being scared. He did not cry out in pain.
“You okay, buddy?” Jacob asked as they wove through the torture chamber.
“Yes,” Keith growled, his voice deepening. “I can take this.”
The room with the switching machines seemed like a relief afterward. Keith hadn't been switched before, but it didn't seem to have much effect on him beyond the initial stripes of pain. Jacob was actually yelling louder. He wondered if it had anything to do with the way his spines work. Sharp, thin stings were his area of specialty. Maybe he was immune?
Then they started getting into the less common punishments. Bursts of heat and flame were applied to their bottoms. At one point, small round heated metal circles were repeatedly pressed to their butts. They were not unlike, say, being burned with cigars. Keith didn't recall the soldiers being tormented this way and marveled at how quickly they could customize the punishment. Then he blushed again when he felt himself getting an erection as a result of the isolated burns. But really, he thought about how lucky he was. He wanted to get closer to the Freak Show and he was drawn to a pain that SpankTank clearly enjoyed inflicting.
Unfortunately, the next section was a good reminder that SpankTank was indeed a villain. Keith knew he was vulnerable to electricity. He learned from his early fights with the Clockwork and practice with Major Fry that electricity caused him plenty of pain, more than it did for others. When the Fun House machinery introduced an electric wand and shocked Keith's backside he yelped loudly and jerked in his bondage. They obviously noticed this reaction in the control room. Suddenly Keith's ass was targeted with scorching fury. Electrodes were placed on his butt cheeks and the shocks were turned up. Now, he began howling in pain. He tried to kick his legs in the restraints. The tears began to flow in earnest, but the pain did not relent. In fact it got worse. An electric prod was forced between his cheeks and touched his vulnerable rectum. Keith was given a couple of seconds to realize what was about to happen when sharp pain surged through the tender flesh surrounding his asshole.
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Keith screamed and began sobbing. He lost control of his powers briefly and sharp spines burst out of his chest. Fortunately there was nobody within range. All he could feel was throbbing sharp pain coursing through his bottom, covering every square inch, inside and out.
He had no idea how long the electrotorture went on. It felt like hours. Eventually the machines retracted and they were moved along to the next chamber. Keith panted, his body covered with sweat. Jacob looked back over his shoulder to try to see how Keith was doing.
“Are you still with me, buddy?” Jacob asked.
“Yeah, yeah,” Keith said, gulping for air. “I definitely underestimated him.”
“Well, I think it's my turn next,” Jacob said. “Looks like we're going into a new room.”
The entered a room lit brightly blue, filled with steam jets. Funny honking sounds played whenever a steam jet fired up.
“This is odd,” Keith said as he regained his composure.
“Aw, shit,” Jacob said. “SpankTank wasn't bluffing. You're about to see me at my worst, kid.”
As they traveled into the room, the ring that was holding Jacob up for his hanging wedgie was released. Keith watched as robotic arms pulled his briefs back into position tightly covering his cheeks. Keith did not understand why that happened. Now Jacob had more protection, not less.
Then the two of them were put into position over a pair of steam vents. The bars forced their legs up and the chains lowered so they were in a sitting position over the vents.
Then suddenly, hot blasts of steam burst forth from the vents, focused right on their bottoms. The heat built up quickly and Keith began to squirm in pain.
“Yowch!” He whimpered and wiggled his bottom back and forth to no avail. He couldn't get out of the burning steam. But he found it wasn't nearly as painful as the electrotorture.
Jacob, though, had started yelling like he was being murdered. His ass quivered and bounced in place.
“FUUUUCK!” He shouted. The steam jets suddenly turned off. For Keith the relief came instantly, but Jacob continued to holler and cry like he was still being burned. After a few seconds, Keith realized, that's because Jacob was still suffering from the hot steam. That's why they kept his shorts on. The boiling hot moisture got trapped in the cloth of his shorts and kept scalding his bottom even after the steam jets had stopped.
And so for a good ten minutes Keith got to feel slightly superior to Jacob. Jacob bawled and cried as the steam jets popped on and off, his bottom wriggling helplessly in place. The Fun House was as merciless to Jacob as it had been to Keith.
“Fuck,” Jacob said, sniffling, after the punishment was over. “You just know he's going to hold that over me every time he gets his hands on me.”
They both laughed a little bit, though their faces were red and streaked with tears. They were approaching the rape room. Keith thought he'd be shunted off in another direction, but was surprised to be drawn in as well. Did SpankTank change his mind? When they entered, they saw SpankTank standing on one of the rape platforms, with other Freak Show members surrounding him in the room.
Jacob and Keith were carried around the room until they were side by side in front of SpankTank, their asses facing him.
“Relax kid,” SpankTank said, slapping one of Keith's extremely sore cheeks with his steel hand. “I'm not fucking you this time. I'm just letting you enjoy me have my way with Jacob here while you pick out which of my guys you'll have your three-way with.”
He grabbed Jacob's shorts and ripped them right off with a quick yank, exposing his blistered bare bottom in his jock. They both heard SpankTank unzip his pants and a few moments later Jacob groaned as the gang leaders massive cock forced its way in.
“Damn, that ass is scorching hot,” SpankTank said as he thrusted. “You're going to get to know our new steam room very well during your three-day stay, Jakey boy.” Jacob's bottom quivered.
“As for you, boy,” SpankTank said, reaching down with his cigar and again pressing it against Keith's left cheek, “Take a look at the options here. Pick two. The rest of them will stay here and show Jacob a good time.”
The guy who flirted with Keith was again among the crew. Keith wanted to pick him, but really, he wanted to top the guy, not bottom. He thought for a moment as he looked at the guys. He needed to think punk.
“Okay,” he said, gesturing his head toward two of the more muscular Freak Show members. “You two. Who are they?”
“That's Flex over there and that's Grunt,” SpankTank said. The two men demonstrated their names by flexing and grunting roughly.
“And you, what's your name?” Keith said, nodding at the punk who flirted with him. The young man looked disappointed at not being picked.
“I'm Decker,” he said. “We met before.”
“I remember,” Keith said. “You can come watch them fuck me, but only if I can put you over my knee afterward.”
“Ooh, somebody's playing by his own rules,” SpankTank observed. He reached over and gave Keith a good hard smack with his steel hand, while continuing to fuck Jacob roughly.
“Hey, I'm totally playing by your rules,” Keith said. “You never said I couldn't invite additional guys for other things.”
“You got a point, boy,” SpankTank said. “Up to you, Decker.”
“Yes,” Decker said almost immediately.