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The Blister Boyz
Chapter 51: Built 4 Pain

by Redspkscott

Go to the contents page for this series.

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

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

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 and spanking.

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 connection vs. control. 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!

Yes sir.

What I’m going to do after every single example of something you did wrong is tell you a story. WHACK! 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 to go very badly and what we learned from it. WHACK!

Yes sir.

None of us got where we are by doing everything right, Troy. CRACK! If that were possible, then would be the point of pain as a motivational tool? WHACK! So, rather than sulking, you’re going to start telling me everything wrong you did. CRACK! And I’m going to show you that you’re no more lost than all the rest of us. SMACK! I’m pretty long-winded though, so this may take a while. CRACK! Troy yelped with pain from that last swat as he pushed the penny out into the cavern tunnels to begin a circuit of a penny push that would last the rest of the evening, but would teach Troy a lot about the challenges of being both a leader and a hero.

The night had gotten very late (technically it was now early morning) and the Freakshow artist was wrapping up Keith’s tattoo. He let the guy cover it with a temporary bandage, even though he healed fast. He wanted to keep his tattoo to himself for now.

As the dawn started approaching, he saw reminders that aside everything else, the Freakshow were indeed villains. Those who had left Carnival Town for the evening were returning now with ill-gotten gains from raids and robberies in the city. A pack of Freakshow managed to carry and fly an entire armored truck to town to steal the cash.

Hey, big boy! He heard a familiar voice yell out to him. Keith spun around and saw Decker approaching him, holding something in his hands.

Hey! Keith said back.

Bossman’s ready for your farewell ... for now, Decker said. He wants you to meet him in front of the fun house wearing these. He said this is just to get you looking smart. If he approves, you can expect some more deliveries back at the frat. Decker handed him over a pair of jeans, a thick belt, and a new cap.

Let’s try ’em on, Keith said. He yanked off his combat boots and stripped out of his camouflage-colored spandex pants. The rear of his pants had been shredded by the Crimson Brotherhood when he was taken prisoner.

This denim feels nice and soft, Keith noted. He started pulling them on and realized that they were super tight. Of course they would be. All the Freakshow wore super-tight jeans, often with rips in the knees or thighs.

His jeans were fully intact and once he got them on he was amazed at how well they clung to his shape, but also felt completely comfortable. The front did not bunch up at his balls, even though the rear of the jeans clung perfectly to his massive cheeks and the center seam sunk deeply into his ass crack. The entire shape of his ass was perfectly highlighted. It clung as closely as spandex but was actually much more comfortable (and for Keith’s interests, much sexier).

Damn, that looks good, Decker said, looking at Keith’s ass. I’m gonna get my hands on that butt someday, I swear.

Keith grinned at him. Besides being tight yet extremely comfortable, what also marked the jeans as extremely different was the beltline and loops. The belt area was heavily reinforced and instead of denim beltloops like most jeans have, they were metal D-rings. Keith yanked at one to feel how sturdily attached it was.

I’m going to guess that this is so that these pants are strong enough to hold my weight if I were to ... say ... be suspended by ... I don’t know ... the rear loop over my ass? Decker nodded with an evil grin. The big loops on the side would also make it easy to hang a paddle off one of them.

The belt was thick black leather with metal spikes. Of course there would be spikes. He slid it on through the belt loops and realized that the metal belt buckle was decorated with the Blister Boyz’ handprint symbol.

They didn’t just make that tonight, did they? Keith asked.

Our ironworks guys are experts, Decker said.

He peeled off his camouflage cap and tossed it aside. The new hat was jet black, and there were two holes designed so that his horns could poke through without tearing it. He was surprised to see there were no symbols or anything on it.

SpankTank said he’d leave that up to you, Decker said. You want anything special on it and we can make it for you.

How’s your ass? Keith asked.

Sore as hell, Decker said. Keith gestured for him to turn around. Decker hadn’t replaced his torn jeans yet, so Keith could see his bare, red bottom that was heavily scratched up and had lots of polka dots from Keith’s quills. Keith reached out and massaged his ass cheek with one hand. Decker moaned a little bit.

Oh man, I’d love to play more, but I’ve got to get you to SpankTank, he said. But there’s gonna be a next time.

There better be, Keith growled, as he followed him back to the fun house.

A huge crowd of Freakshow had gathered out front, and SpankTank stood there waiting for him. Beside SpankTank was a portable chain hoist like a mechanic would use to remove a car’s engine. Keith grinned. With the new jeans he was wearing, he knew exactly what it was for. That rear loop was going to see some action tonight, as was the skin-tight seat of the pants. Keith was ready. He actually wanted it now.

Here he is boys! SpankTank said as Keith approached him and joined him right next to the hoist. One of our special guests this evening! Keith walked right up to him and stood in front of the massive hulk, fearless. His head was the level of SpankTank’s chest.

What do you think of that new uniform? SpankTank asked. Keith took a step back and smiled, then raised his hands up over his head and gestured rock horns with his fingers. The gathered Freakshow all started cheering loudly and hooting. Keith slowly turned around, showing off the form-fitting jeans. SpankTank had brought Jacob out as well and put him in front of the crowd to watch what happened. Keith gave him a friendly wave. He made sure to stop posing at the point where his ass was pointed directly at SpankTank.

I think they fight great! Keith said. What do you think? SpankTank nearly looked hypnotized by Keith’s big, round butt.

I think I might believe in God — and that God loves me –when I’m looking at that ass, SpankTank said.

Keith drank in the cheers of the Freakshow and SpankTank’s attention, even gesturing for more. Jacob, who was a professional wrestler in addition to being a superhero, recognized the dynamic immediately. He was working the crowd for his own punishment. He was getting everybody hyped for his beating.

SpankTank pointed his paddle hand at Keith’s chest.

Did you get a tattoo here while I was occupied with your buddy, Jacob? He asked. Keith smiled and nodded. Facing SpankTank (and away from the crowd) he carefully peeled off the bandage. His fast-healing ability had already made the covering unnecessary. SpankTank looked at it and then laughed. Then Keith slowly turned around to show the new tattoo to the crowd.

The tattoo was simply text arranged in a square over his heart, saying BUILT 4 PAIN. The BUILT and 4″ were written in black block letters, and the word PAIN was in angry, ragged red ink. The Freakshow went absolutely wild at the sight that a superhero had permanently marked himself to show off his spanking fetish. And Keith had a big, happy grin on his face. He gave another set of rock horns to the crowd. Jacob’s jaw had dropped.

SpankTank realized that he wasn’t entirely in control of this scenario any more, but it didn’t seem to bother him much. He was still going to get to beat Keith’s ass. He pulled out a cigar and lit it while waiting for the reaction to subside.

You know what’s gonna happen now, right? SpankTank said. Before I send you home?

Yeah, Keith said. His voice had dropped to a deep growl, nearly a purr. SpankTank nodded.

I want you to say it, SpankTank said. I want you to say it out loud for everybody to hear.

Keith sauntered back up to SpankTank, smiling still. He was not intimidated.

You are going to pick me up with that massive hand of yours and hang me off that hoist right there, Keith said. You’re going to position my ass so that everybody out there can see it. And then you’re going to PADDLE MY FUCKING ASS RAW UNTIL I AM BAWLING MY EYES OUT! The last of that was yelled into SpankTank’s face as though Keith were the one giving the orders. The Freakshow all went bonkers again.

Well, if you insist, SpankTank said. He reached around with his working (but metal) left hand and stuck a finger through the rear loop of Keith’s pants. Then he easily lifted Keith up and off his feet (with just a finger!) and carried him over to the hoist. He hung Keith up to the hook on the hoist chain. Keith did not resist or struggle.

Keep in mind if you try to reach back and protect that ass or kick too high when I blister your tail, this paddle here will likely break some bones, SpankTank said. SpankTank’s paddle was actually metal and was attached cybernetically to his wrist in the place of a hand. He could screw it on and off to replace it with other implements (or a working hand just like he had on his other arm). Make sure those wings of yours stay out of the way, too.

I’m ready, bossman, Keith said.

One last thing, SpankTank said. That’s not normal denim you got on. We’ve been working on that for years, just like all our cybernetics and stuff. It looks like denim, but it feels soft and thin against your body, right? That’s how it can shape that ass the way it does.

Yeah, Keith responded.

The denim over your ass? It looks normal, but it offers abso-fucking-lutely no protection from things like heat, or electricity or impact. Or ... you know ... swats from my paddle. I don’t need to take those gorgeous jeans down to blister your bare ass. Each swat is going to feel as though it’s hitting right on your naked, beefy, furry butt.

Keith turned his head to look at the expectant crowd watching him and his ass. Then he turned his head back to give SpankTank full eye contact.

TEAR IT UP! He growled. And he completely kept eye contact with SpankTank as he raised his right arm and swung – CRACK! The paddle slammed right across Keith’s massive butt and new, fresh pain blossomed.

DAMN RIGHT! SpankTank yelled.

DAMN RIGHT! Keith yelled right back in his face. CRACK! WHAP! WHACK! SpankTank started raining down swats. Keith responded in growls and grunts and yelling approval. YEAH! YEAH, YOU GOT IT! THAT’S IT! BRING IT, MAN! FUCKING BRING IT! He wasn’t taunting or instigating. He was encouraging. It looked like SpankTank was giving Keith the best paddling he had ever received in his life. Given Keith’s short history of actual play, that might well be the case.

Jacob watched from the side in pure amazement as the Freakshow all went nuts watching it play out this way. They were used to insults or begging or crying. They were absolutely unprepared to see Keith egging SpankTank on like this.

This was not an unheard-of spanking scene to play out, Jacob thought to himself, but it’s extremely rare and never planned. Just because two guys are into spanking doesn’t mean they’ll go well together. And even if they do go well together, guys have moods and stresses and everything else in the world, so spank play varies by circumstances. On a very rare occasion, two guys can have the right spanking chemistry AND the right sexual chemistry AND are in just the right mood AND both of them are in the exact same pain headspace for something like this to go down. They were feeding off each other in a perfect give and take designed to keep this scene going for a very, very long time.

It had happened to Jacob once before with a fellow wrestler. He was in Keith’s position of being paddled, and it was just a perfect, indescribable punishment scene. He loved every swat. His partner loved giving it. And even though they played several times after that, they weren’t ever able to recapture the magic. It was fleeting, but wonderful. It justified the fetish. Keith was going to be a very happy, very sore young man when this punishment was over. It gave Jacob a chance to relax. He enjoyed being tormented by SpankTank, too, but he couldn’t entirely let go and let the pain happen as long as he was worried about how Keith would react.

But right now, Keith was the fucking man. Even when SpankTank’s swats started hurting enough to make him cry, he was still cheering SpankTank on to continue blistering him. He kept gesturing to the crowd with rock fists, which got them all riled up again.

BUILT FOR PAIN, MAN! He growled loudly between swats. I FUCKING OWN IT! MAKE ME YELL, BOSSMAN!

TAKE IT! SpankTank yelled back, landing a nice hard swat. Keith didn’t struggle or wiggle, but he did kick his legs out a bit in response to the swats, and he grabbed the support pole for the hoist chain with his right hand to keep the swats from spinning him around. The two of them sounded to Jacob like nothing so much as to pro wrestlers posturing in the ring. Instead of somebody getting hit with a chair, it was the paddle. Jacob hoped Andrew was watching down in Oranbega, since he had hopes of someday creating a pro wrestling league that incorporated spanking.

This punishment went on for 45 full minutes like this with no break at all. Both SpankTank and Keith were drenched with sweat. Keith was full-on crying, but still growling something like YEAH! or COME ON! with each swat.

SpankTank stopped for a moment to take stock. Keith looked over at him and grinned. His face was beet red from bawling, but he grinned at him anyway. SpankTank shook his head in amazement.

This guy! he simply said, and the Freakshow all cheered. Normally this would be my stopping point, but ... . He walked over to Keith’s side to take a closer look and feel his bottom.

Blistering hot, SpankTank said. You built for pain, boy?

Yeah, Keith growled. How about you? SLIKT. Everybody heard the sound but because Keith was facing away from them and partly obscured by SpankTank’s massive bulk, they didn’t see what just happened.

Oh, so that’s how this is gonna be, SpankTank said. He took a couple of steps forward and turned around to show off his own massive denim-clad ass to the crowd. Keith had used his powers on SpankTank when he got close to him. There were a dozen or so sharp quills now sticking out of SpankTank’s left cheek. They only stung a little bit now, but would start hurting more and more over the next few minutes.

Come back, Keith said, looking over his shoulder at SpankTank. I wanna do the other cheek! The Freakshow started laughing. After a moment, SpankTank shrugged and walked back over to Keith and turned around.

You’re in this for the hard stuff, I guess, SpankTank said. Might as well make sure you earn what you’re getting. Keith lashed out with his hand again and another bundle of quills sunk into SpankTank’s right cheek.

Can’t wait to see how these little spikies play out, SpankTank said, wiggling his bottom a little bit. But as for Mr. Sticking Point here. He stepped behind Keith to position himself. Keith looked over his shoulder back at SpankTank to make eye contact. He was still not afraid. SpankTank raised his paddle arm back up and adjusted a couple of dials on his cybernetic metal bicep. Then he held the paddle up and everybody could hear the crackle of electricity.

Built for pain? SpankTank asked.

Built for pain, Keith growled. Electricity was Keith’s weakness, but he refused to let it rule him.

WHAP! CRACK! WHACK! The swats came furiously fast. And there was a distinctive buzzing sound at the end of each swat as the electrical current added additional pain to the punishment. Keith bucked and hollered at the vicious new beating. He grabbed onto the hoist pole to keep himself stabilized and kicked his legs out occasionally as the pain grew overwhelming.

And while he was now in too much pain to keep egging SpankTank on verbally, Keith still nodded furiously through his bawling in yelling to indicate that yes, this vicious beatdown was what he was built for.

This hardcore paddling went on for just 10 minutes, but it probably doubled the pain Keith was feeling. Jacob wondered if this was coming through as discipline or abuse energy. It looked like it was too much, but Keith hadn’t even suggested he wanted it to stop. In fact, once this round of paddling stopped ...

Oh, wow, Keith gasped. I think I’m gonna ... I’m so close ... so close... . He was squirming in place. SpankTank looked at the crowd and winked.

Watch this, SpankTank said. He pulled the cigar out of his mouth, reached over, and pressed it hard right into Keith’s asscrack on top of where his hole would be. Keith gasped loudly in what seemed at first to be extreme pain, but then as his body shuddered, it was very clear that something else happened. Something that felt very good.

Whoops, SpankTank said. Somebody just creamed his brand new jeans. He rubbed Keith’s ass with his hand for a moment, then carefully lifted him off the chain hook. That’s a lot of jizz. Be sure to clean that up when you get home. These pants aren’t cheap, you know.

SpankTank then unbuckled Keith’s belt to pull down those jeans to inspect the damage. There wasn’t much Keith could do at this point. The pain had finally taken its toll, and then cumming afterward just exhausted him. He was heavily breathing.

Look at that ass! SpankTank said. It was far deep into hamburger stage, dark red with purple blotches. There were blisters from the paddling and burn marks from the electricity.

As the crowd cheered, Keith managed to crane his head around and look down at his ass.

Beautiful, he said.

Yes, it is, SpankTank agreed and helped Keith pull his pants back up.

Thing is, we’re not done, SpankTank said. Jacob immediately grew concerned.

It’s okay, I can take it, Keith said, attempting a sexy growl.

No, we’re done for right now at this moment, but a few minutes ago you told my ass in no uncertain terms that you were ready to take on the Freakshow and now we’re gonna deal with that. He turned around to remind Keith of the spines he shot into his butt.

Hurts, doesn’t it? Keith said.

Oh yeah, it hurts, SpankTank said. My ass is getting stung by a hive of wasps right now, over and over again. Keith laughed.

But anyway, I promised the Blister Boyz that I would give them three months to prepare before I came after them. You decided you are ready now. Fine. The other Blister Boyz are safe for the time being, but you, Mr. Sticking Point, are now fair game.

The Freakshow all started cheering loudly. So many of them wanted to get their hands on Keith.

Wait, wait, wait ... SpankTank said. We can’t all do this at once. You’ll burn the boy out. Pacing, my boys! Here’s what I’ll allow. For the next three months, while the Blister Boyz are still training, the Freakshow are free to send out scouting parties for some field action on Sticking Point here. Now we’re not going to be dragging him back here again just yet. I want the whole team when the time comes. But you are free to track Sticking Point here wherever he is in the city, take him down forcefully, and beat his damn ass as you please, right there in town, in public. Draw a nice crowd. Bust his beefy ass every day if you like.

I’m gonna fight back, Keith said.

You damn well better, SpankTank said. It’s no fun if you don’t. If any Blister Boyz show up to help him out, you’re free to bust their asses as well. Don’t bring ’em back here until our friendly grace period has ended. But make them regret running into you. Am I clear?

The Freakshow cheered.

SpankTank forcefully turned Keith so that the two of them were looking eye to eye. Keith’s face was red and wet with both tears and sweat, he was panting, but he still had a big grin on his face.

I’m the tiger and you just grabbed my tail, SpankTank said. There’s no getting off this ride now.

Good, Keith said.

Next: The Aftermath

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