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: 12 Jul 2016
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
SpankTank gave Flex and Grunt an hour to have their way with Keith and for Keith to have his way with Decker.
Set him loose afterward, SpankTank ordered.
Go explore Carnival Town. I’ll find you when
it’s time to send you home. I’ll be playing with Jacob in the meantime.
They yanked Keith into a back room in the rear of the Fun House with some filthy old sofas and monitors on the walls.
It’s a watching room, Decker explained.
So we can see you guys get punished.
Enough talk, let’s fuck, Flex said.
Flex and Grunt stripped down and lubed up.
Not much for romance, huh? Keith said.
They bent Keith over the couch and spit-roasted him, Flex fucking his ass while Grunt forced his dick down Keith’s throat. It was a rough ride, but Keith was aroused by these hot punks, who were more muscular than some of the other Freakshow. Keith glanced over while sucking down Grunt’s cock to see Decker rubbing himself in arousal.
Keith expected the two men to blow their loads pretty quick, because they didn’t seem interested in any sort of pacing, but they managed to go for 15 minutes before blowing their loads in his mouth and ass. It wasn’t consensual, and it wasn’t as pleasurable as sex with Walt, but it was a hell of a lot better than gang rape with the Crimson Brotherhood.
Not bad, Flex said.
Yeah, he’s obviously a noob, though, Grunt said.
Next time lick the tip some more.
He playfully slapped Keith across the face with his cock as it started going limp.
Next time the Blister Boyz will win and maybe you can show me how, Keith said.
You got it, sport, Grunt said.
Careful though, Flex said, smacking Keith’s sore bottom.
Grunt here is into edging. He
can suck a cock for hours. He has turned it into a form of torture. People actually beg him to stop.
Damn, you spoiled the surprise, Flex!
The two men laughed as they got dressed, gave Keith a quick salute, and abandoned him there with Decker, who was sporting massive wood in his tight jeans.
Enjoy the show, boy? Keith asked, dropping his voice down to the deep growl he used to order
Kyle around. Decker silently nodded.
Ready to pay the price? He nodded again.
Get your ass over here. Decker walked over
and Keith quickly grabbed the punk and threw him over his lap on the sofa.
I lost my paddle over on
Rogue Isles, but you’ll find out soon enough why I don’t need it. Decker’s ass looked nice and firm
and round in the tight jeans. Keith had been practicing his spanking and paddling skills on Jason all
summer while teaching him how to ice skate. He brought his experience to bear and laid the spanking down
hard on Decker’s bottom. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Even though his bottom wasn’t exposed, his ass still quivered
and he moaned in pain.
Yeah, now that’s an ass worth spanking, Keith said as he swatted away.
Nice and round.
Gonna make it nice and sore. Decker began whimpering as the pain built up. Keith went on for ten minutes.
He was pleased to feel Decker’s erection pushing into his thighs. The boy moaned and squirmed on his lap
as the spanking went on.
Now it’s time for the main event. SLIKT! Quills grew out of the palms of his hand. He wiggled
his fingers and they clacked together. Decker looked over his shoulder nervously. Keith grinned at him.
You sure it was worth it? Keith asked.
It was definitely worth it, Decker said. He raised his bottom slightly in submission. The
boy wanted to experience Keith’s unique take on punishment. Keith pulled a quill out from his hand and
then used it cut out the seat of Decker’s jeans. Decker moaned in anticipation. Keith realized he was
probably going to go around Carnival Town bragging about being the first Freakshow to be spanked by the
Sticking Point. The punk was going commando. His bare bottom was slim, nicely rounded and had a bit of
brown hair running down the ass crack.
Here we go! Keith slammed his hand across both cheeks — SMACK! He pulled back and
counted about twenty spines left behind.
YOW!!! Decker hollered.
Just getting started, boy, Keith said. He began spanking in earnest, each swat leaving behind
porcupine-length quills in the punk’s bottom. Decker obviously underestimated how painful this spanking
would be. He began struggling over Keith’s lap, but Keith was stronger and pinned him down with his hockey
player legs. He hoped, though, it didn’t occur to Decker to try to use his electrical powers, given what
happened in the Fun House.
For another ten minutes he spanked Decker’s bare bottom. He cried and yelled as more quills stuck into his glute muscles. But Keith wasn’t going to treat Decker like a pledge. These guys wanted real, rough punishment, and Keith was going to dish it out. He would not be able to earn these guys’ respect if he didn’t.
When the spanking stopped, Decker’s yelps of pain did not. That was the nasty trick about Keith’s quills.
Now I’ll just sit back for a minute and let the quills do the work themselves, Keith said.
Decker continued to cry and squirm on his lap. Keith’s quills injected small amounts of a specialized
biotoxin that seriously inflamed the pain receptors nearby. The neurons continued to fire over and over
again, causing Decker’s ass to continue to throb in pain.
Decker didn’t lose his erection, though.
Oh, god. Oh, god, he moaned.
How long does this last?
About an hour, Keith said.
And then there’s the fun of having the quills removed.
Wow, Decker said.
Was it everything you thought it would be?
So much more! he said between gasps.
I can’t even rub my bottom to try to ease the pain.
I didn’t even think of that.
This is ... something else, he moaned and tried to relax, allowing the pain to wash over his
bottom. Keith smiled.
I honestly enjoyed beating that ass of yours, Keith said.
And I’m going to do it again
every time I get my hands on you. I’m even going to let the other Blister Boyz know that if they grab
you causing trouble to bring you to me. They’re gonna change your nickname to Pincushion.
Fuck, Decker said, not in defiance, but in submission.
Maybe you should find one of your buddies to help pull the quills out. Have some bandages handy.
The monks were surprised as they looked over the magical results of the punishment Keith and Jacob suffered in SpankTank’s Fun House.
No abuse energy at all? The Augurer asked.
I expected that out of Jason, but not even when
Keith was getting his butt electro-tortured? He was screaming like hell! We know that’s his weakness.
That had to have been more painful than what he got from the Crimson Brotherhood.
No, sir, one of the monks said.
It obviously hurt like hell, but it was discipline energy
all the same. There was a part of him that accepted or wanted it to happen.
It’s the context, Walt said.
It’s the guys involved. These are his kind of people. If Keith
hadn’t ended up with us, he would have eventually gravitated to them. He wants to show he’s as tough as
they are. He had watched all of Jacob and Keith’s punishment through the monk’s scrying crystals.
He had seen the rapport between Keith and SpankTank and the other guys in the Freakshow.
Walt, are you smiling? Troy asked. The two of them were the only Blister Boyz down in Oranbega.
The rest were back at the frat house getting everything back in order and calmed down after the Boyz’
kidnapping by the Crimson Brotherhood.
He’s figuring stuff out, Walt said.
He’s been changing all along. I think we’re gonna see
a very different Keith soon. He’s gonna figure out what he’s supposed to be doing, I’m sure of it.
Troy looked up at the monitor.
I wish I could say the same, Troy said, then turned and walked off. Walt watched him go, his
brow furrowed with concern.
Keith wandered through Carnival Town unescorted, nodding and waving the members of the Freakshow
as he passed by. It felt strange to be a registered superhero wandering safely through the headquarters
of a dangerous pack of anarchic cybernetic criminals. It was abundantly clear that the Freakshow fundamentally
liked the Blister Boyz, even though a clash was inevitable in the future. They robbed people and
knocked over banks and destroyed millions of dollars in property.
But they were also spanking nuts like the Blister Boyz, and they were looking forward to the rivalry.
And they really liked Keith’s persona as The Sticking Point. Keith had horns and demonic wings, which
made him look
metal in these guys’ eyes, and he also loved the same music and had the same interests
and similar attitudes as the punks.
He wandered by some small arenas where Freakshow members were fighting with each other. A barker was shouting out the rules of the fights tonight. The losers in each arena would be fed through the Fun House to be paddled, flogged, and tormented. The winner in each arena would get his own turn punishing and fucking Jacob Brass. Jacob would be remaining SpankTank’s prisoner for three days to pay for the Freakshow helping the Blister Boyz escape the Rogue Isles.
Without the Freakshow, Keith might have still been there suffering abusive punishment. He rubbed his blistered bottom and thought for a bit as he walked along. The torment of the fun house was already turning into a kind of amusing memory. He was looking forward to telling the other guys about the experience (especially Jason, who fantasized about automated punishment systems). Why was that different from his experience getting his ass blistered by Jolt Jammer at the Crimson Brotherhood? Jolt Jammer himself was apparently a former member of the Freakshow. He and Keith liked the same angry punk music and had some similar attitudes. Why was this any different?
He stopped for a minute and just looked around. Everybody was walking around or flying around and
just doing his own thing. There was some violence, yes. Often that violence ended with guy on the losing
end submitting to some vicious ass punishment. There was also live music and a massive mosh pit. There
was a big bar full of all kinds of booze, including some expensive stuff that had been stolen. There were
ironworks and tech shops where people got their bodies modified. They were, for lack of a better word,
free. Keith had wandered over to a shanty area that served as a massive tattoo parlor. Freakshow
loved their tattoos, another thing Keith had in common with them. He had seven tattoos. He had been thinking
about getting a new one that was somehow relating to his new experiences and
motivation but felt
embarrassed by it for some reason. None of these guys were embarrassed at all about their love of punishment
It’s not about control with these guys, Keith thought to himself as he wandered in, watching
guys getting tattoo work done.
It’s about pain as a way of connecting to each other. It’s a way of
confirming what we have in common. It makes us all ... brothers.
That thought brought Keith up short again. He stopped in the middle of the tattoo parlor. That was
it! That’s what mattered for his role as
The Redeemer. It was
The ones who used pain as a way to interact with guys, even if it was to challenge them and even dominate
them for a time, were different from the ones who just used pain to enslave or control people. With the
right options in place, the Freakshow may not actually be
tamed, but they could be pushed to apply
their punishment to heroes like the Blister Boyz who could take it. The fact that they were thugs and
criminals was a separate matter. What Keith realized he needed to do was separate how villains approach
crime with how they approach pain. In that context, the guys from the Freakshow were looking for other
men to share their enjoyment of pain ... from both sides of the scale. That could potentially be do-able.
This could happen. Keith’s mind started making all sorts of connections and having all sorts of ideas.
He wondered if this was what Jason felt like whenever he thought about the psychology of spanking fetishes.
Why were the bad guys turning to pain? That’s what mattered.
Hey bud, you looking for a tattoo? A man asked him.
Can’t say we’ve ever had any heroes
wander in here before. The man was sitting at a table a few feet away idly cleaning his needles. Keith
noticed the ratty (and certainly stolen) laptop nearby.
I design my own tattoos, Keith said, gesturing toward the laptop.
If I put one together
right now, could you do it tonight?
Probably, the man said.
Where’s it going?
Keith slapped his chest just over his heart. He had been saving that spot until the point where he got his life together, knew what he wanted, and figured out how he wanted to represent it. It was going to be his most important tattoo. And now he knew what he wanted. Finally. After all this time.
The man nodded him over to the laptop. Keith plunked down next to him and started typing away and designing an image.
You have a lot of experience with this stuff, the man noticed.
I’m a graphic design major, Keith said.
I’ve done some skateboard and T-shirt art, too.
A lot of it spanking-themed.
After 30 minutes, Keith had it all together. It all came easily to him once he figured out what he wanted to say. The man looked it over.
Yeah, I can get that on you tonight, he said. He gestured over to his tattooing chair. Keith
sat down, careful to wrap his wings behind the chair.
That’s a good one, by the way, the man said.
Just to warn you, we’re probably going to
steal it from ya.
Keith smiled and said nothing as the man got his needles prepared. That was what he wanted. That was the point. Pun unintended.
Troy trudged into Andrew Porter’s special office that he had installed down in Oranbega. He found the man sitting behind his desk working on his computer, while also occasionally looking over at a nearby scrying crystal to see what was going on with the Freakshow. He nodded at Troy as he came in and poured a second glass of Scotch.
Right now, I’m just glad you all are back safe and sound, Andrew said.
For tonight, that’s
all that matters.
Troy sat down on the other side of the desk and covered his face with his hands.
I have no fucking idea what I’m doing, Troy said.
I am completely fucking lost. I can’t
run this crew. I almost got us all turned into slaves. What if I get somebody killed?!
Andrew said nothing for a bit and just let Troy sulk. Then he slid open one of his desk drawers and pulled out his trusty frat paddle.
Penny for your thoughts, Andrew said. Troy looked up at him just as he flicked a penny into
the air over toward the center of the office. It landed on the rock floor. Andrew gestured over to it
with his head but said nothing. Troy knew full well what Andrew wanted him to do.
Troy nodded sadly, stood up slowly, and turned around. He undid his belt and slowly peeled his red spandex pants down to mid-thigh. His ass was still marked up with bruises and welts from the remains of his punishment from the Crimson Brotherhood. He hadn’t had any sleep yet for his body to heal all the welts.
He carefully walked over to the middle of the room, and got on his hands in knees. Then he bent his head down and pushed the penny forward with his nose. He hadn’t done a penny push in years.
Andrew walked up behind him. He said nothing at first, but leaned over, took aim, and CRACK! He slammed his paddle hard across Troy’s bared ass. Troy grunted, startled, then continued on with his work of pushing the penny.
Here’s what we’re going to do right now, Andrew said. WHACK! He smacked Troy with the paddle
after every sentence.
You are going to go through your recollections of everything that happened that
contributed to this whole plan of yours going wrong. CRACK!
Anything you could have or should have
caught but didn’t. SMACK!
What I’m going to do after every single example of something you did wrong is tell you a story.
It’s going to be a story about me, or Lawrence, or Jacob. SMACK!
And it’s going to be
as similar an example of something that we did wrong that caused things