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The Tenant
Part 29

by Graham

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Copyright on this story text belongs at all times to the original author only, whether stated explicitly in the text or not. The original date of posting to the MMSA was: 12 Feb 2018

It was after 5 p.m., when Mark awakened. He was stunned immediately by several feelings. His bladder was pressuring him intensely with its demand for relief.

Rolling onto his back and bum sent shock waves of piercing pain to his brain! Ooooh, man, ah, shit! he thought. Steve lacerated my backside! That switch sliced my flesh like ground meat!

He quickly returned to lying on his stomach as those thoughts crashed through his consciousness.

He lean stomach, deeply concave between his hips, growled, almost snarling. He was hungry, no starving! They hadn’t been eating regularly, or with substantial meals, lately, he realized.

Trying to raise himself up to his knees, from which to stand, he realized he was totally bare and would have to step outside and to where ever he could empty his bladder. As he stepped outside, the bigger, stronger coach arrived to sling his arm around Mark’s back, under his right arm, to hold and steady him as he walked.

Over in a wooded brush, about 300 feet away from the tent, Steve and Mark stood together, the older, stronger coach securing the younger teacher’s footing, while he eventually released a flood of urine into the brush. Afterward, Steve kept hold of Mark, turning the younger man around and leading him back to the tent.

Mark hesitated, but Steve escorted him with insistence back inside. You’ve got to go back to lying on your stomach, little guy! You’ll never be able to sit with the way it is right now.

It occurred to Mark that the person who was responsible for putting the young teacher’s bottom in that condition was the one who was now trying to favour it by placing Mark back on his stomach.

While you were sleeping, I made us soup. Stay here, and I’m going to bring you some, he instructed. He fled from the tent, returning by carrying cautiously a cup filled with steaming hot soup.

It smelled incredibly good and desirable to Mark. He leaned back and upward, turning to look at the metal cup carried by Steve to him, with a spoon in it.

Steve put it down on the sleeping bag before Mark, for him to use the spoon to eat. Leaning on one elbow, the young teacher, with the masticated rearend, began to try to spoon the soup to himself.

Seeing both the hunger and the difficulty eating it that were obvious with the younger man, the big coach knelt down, took the spoon from Mark’s hand, and began serving spoonfuls to the young teacher’s mouth. Although he felt a little annoyed at Steve taking over feeding him, Mark was so hungry, and the delaying difficulty he was having, made him willing to acquiesce.

The tin cup of soup was quickly gone, and Steve stood up, picked up the cup, and indicated he was going back for a second cupful. In fact, he did that 4 times before Mark had filled his hollow stomach enough to feel sated temporarily.

I guess you liked the soup, Steve commented, and Mark nodded his head, while uttering mmmm, yeah, it was good.

Okay, little man, you need to go with me down to the lake. You can stop in the woods to empty bladder or bowel body functions, before we get you into the lake to wash off and cool your little hiney with some lake water.

The assistant coach extended his arm and pulled Mark up onto his feet. The young teacher looked around for clothes. I think it’s okay to go bare down to the lake and in it here, Steve remarked.

Mark stopped and did everything he needed on the way. They both swam for a while, refreshing and acquiring a clean feeling for each of them.

On the way back, Mark complained of the pain that remained, radiating across his buttocks and backs of his thighs. He did acknowledge the cold, lake water was soothing.

When returning to the camp site, Steve told Mark to go back and lie down naked, on his stomach, to continue giving his bottom a rest. Mark hesitantly complied. The young coach brought some more soup for them both to eat.

Before turning in for the night, Steve took some rope and tied Mark’s hands behind him. The younger teacher protested, No, what’re you doing?! Nooo, please, Steve! Don’t tie me up again! I hate that!

You probably do, little man, but it’s necessary. You can’t be trusted. I can’t risk you trying to run off again, in the dark, and having another calamity, or being injured or killed, not to mention being found bare by strangers.

So, you’re going to sleep like this for a while, until I see you’ve come around to knowing where you are, who you’re with, and why this is the best place for you.

Steve helped the young teacher get down onto his stomach and chest, to lie on the sleeping bag for the night. Because of the charred, sliced condition of the smaller, younger man’s bottom, he needed to sleep in prone position.

The two young men, one bigger, stronger, and in unquestionable authority; the other, smaller, skinny, and under the control of the other, lay side by side, sleeping through the night. In the morning, Mark called out in a whispered voice to Steve, requesting to be taken out to empty his bladder.

Both young men hobbled outside the tent, the younger, smaller one with his hands confined behind him, irrigating the sylvan surroundings. After that, Steve took Mark back to nearby their then, where the coach sat on a tall, tree stump.

He proceeded directly to deliver a scalding lecture to Mark, who was standing naked, with his arms bound behind him. order Mark to stand, as he lectured the young teacher unmercifully. After the unmerciful lecture, Mark could not believe what had just happened and was happening.

He felt like a naughty, little, boy, awaiting another, earned spanking from the powerful, domineering coach in charge of him. Yet the young coach-masseur kept him standing, waiting, while barking at him.

You have been extremely bad, Mark. You know that. You ran off in the dark, trying to run away, ending up almost fatally falling and injuring yourself.

We cannot have that, young man. You need to be reminded who you belong to, Steve rebuked the young teacher. Who do you belong to, little boy? he barked

Uh-uh-you-uh-Steve, I belong to you, Mark answered in fulled acceding submission.

Nodding approvingly, the coach demanded again, Tell me again, say it, brat boy. Who do you belong to?

In a hushed, softer, more abject and pitiable tone of voice, Mark answered, You, Steve. To you.

Alright, little boy. Another good, hard, unforgiving spanking ought to burn the memory of that into you. Every part and facet, your hot body, your enticingly cute little butt, your erotic and sexual hot spots and pleasure, your mind, will, emotions, every bit of you, belong to me. You are mine, period. Understand, little man?

Staring down at the earth, his eyes filled with tears, Mark nodded. Let me hear you say it again, Mark.

I, ah, belong to you, Stuh-eve. I’m sorry, aaa, please, no! He was hoping to elude another spanking.

Come here, naughty little boy.

Mark gulped, struggling to look at the older, bigger, young man. With that said, the young coach reached over, grabbed hold of Mark, dragging and pulling the bound, young teacher down, until he was dumped upended across the coach’s lap, shifted and slanted, ready for the spanking he had coming.

Steve began peppering Mark’s very sore, wounded bottom with his strong, flat hand.

I’m-sarreeeee, aaa, Steve! I didn’t mean it! I didn’t mean to try to run away, ah, escape. Please, don’t spank me any more, I’m begging you! Please, no! Dooon’t-aaaa-spaaaank-aaa-aaa-meeeeee! I don’t wuh-ant to beee-uh-uh-spaaaangked-uh-uh-gaaaain! I’m-uh–suh-arrrrr-huh-uh-eeeeee!

In response to the outburst of apologies and pleas, Steve administered another harsh, volley of smacks to this recalcitrant, youngster’s naked rump. Why don’t you want to be spanked, Mark?

Augh-uh-uh-beee-uh-cuh-cause it-uh-huh-hurttttttzzzz!

So why are you being spanked in the first place, Mark?

Mark’s butt wasn’t the only thing turning bright red. With his left hand, Steve had touched the frantic, upended boy’s erect manhood.

Momentarily, Mark stiffened, but quickly accepted the contact that felt like a heavenly warmth, spread through the boy’s thin body. Then it was gone, and the spanks resumed.

Ooooo-aaaaa-ow-ow-wow-ooooo-wow-ow-ow! The swats on Mark’s tender, slashed bottom hurt so much more!

Remembering the old saying that a spanking hasn’t begun until the crying starts, Steve carried on the over-the-lap hand spanking, increasing the intensity with until the boy boyish-sounding, young teacher was whimpering.

Since this spanking was plainly needed, it was also now the time to get serious. Round after round of fast swats assailed all over the boy’s butt, as Steve spanked this boy’s bottom unrelentingly.

It was his necessary duty after all. This boy needed to be spanked, and was in serious need of Fatherly (or big brotherly) attention to his backside.

Ow-ow-ow, please, noooo! Please stop! I’m sorry for what I did! Ooo-ow-ow-owww! I’m-uh-uh-sorreeeee! I won’t do it gaaain! I promisssse! the boy called out in convulsive tears.

Mark lunged forward and back in reaction, doing all he could to break free, but in vain. He cried openly as his bottom was smacked over and over and over, a long round of hard, blistering spanks all over the bawling boy’s scalded bum and backs of thighs.

Steve finally stopped, and it was over. The boy lay gasping, hanging suspended upside down over this authoritative man’s knee.

Trying to catch his breath, his now red, hot, bottom glowing, his hard-on still pinned against Steve’s thigh, the broken youth was crying, sobbing, bawling in painful, shameful submission.

Besides having to restrain you each night, you’re going to get a morning spanking, every morning, to start out the day reminding you to behave, not to try to flee, and that you belong to me, little buddy. In time, I hope you will truly get it, and the morning spankings won’t be necessary.

Steve laid out the regimen that would be Mark’s until the coach in charge of him determined he could be trusted, that he really understood where he belonged.

Now, when I let you up, do not touch your bottom. If you do, I will put you back over my knee and spank you plenty more, young man. Do you understand me?

Mmm-hmmm, huh-uh-uh-waaa-uh-uh-waaaa!

Mark felt himself being lifted up, hauled off Steve’s lap. The devastated youth stood stomping uncontrollably, doubled over, all at once, his hands flew back, clasping, glued to his buttocks and thighs, trying to rub and knead some comfort to his flaming bottom, his deep red face soaked with streaking tears.

Another over-the-knee, hand-spanked, searing bottom was hot to touch, and deeply marked and hurting. At last, the agonizing, morning, spanking session was over.

Steve led the weeping, gaunt, young teacher along with him as the two, nude, young figures went down to, and into, the lake. Mark was unable to swim with his hands bound behind him. Steve washed his younger, smaller friend down, then himself, before they both emerged to trudge back up to their campsite.

Steve found a pair of very short, thin, nylon, running shorts for Mark to wear. They were soft and easy on the young man’s incinerated behind, but supplying scant coverage for his skinny, bare body, they left his smack-marked thighs and undercurved buns openly visible, and tightly trapped his young, bulging package.

Steve, too, wore only shorts, though less salacious than Mark’s. Mark kneeled to favour his throbbing rearend, while Steve cooked up more oat meal and coffee for them to eat.

He told his younger friend they would hike to the camp store to get more food, and cautioned the young teacher against acting out or acting up.

We are brothers camping together, kid. You’re my younger brother, and if you say or do anything inappropriate with that relationship, I’ll pull down your shorts, take you over my knee, and show everyone who might wonder how a big brother disciplines his kid brother with a darn, hard spanking. Understand, Mark?

The subdued, young teacher nodded, mumbling, Ye-es, ah, Steve. I will, ah, not be bad, I promissse. Steve reached over and rubbed the very sort hair on Mark’s head.

That’s it, kid. You be a good, little boy, my good, little, kid brother. Understand?

Mark nodded his head affirmatively. If you’re not, what’ll happen, little buddy?

You’ll spank me, Mark responded quietly, but clearly

That’s exactly right. And misbehaving, bad boys get spanked on their bare bottoms, you understand that now, don’t you?

Aaaaugh-uh-uh-ye-es, sir.

And where, do bad boys get their bare bottoms spanked, little guy?

Across your, ah, knee, ah, Steve, ah, sir.

Good. That’s true. You be sure to remember that all the time.

You are never going to get away from me again, little man; and you will do as you are told, or else. Understand, boy? Steve declared as he applied several more, hard spanks to Mark’s bare, bottom cheeks.

Head drooping down, tears starting to stream from his eyes and down his face, he answered softy, Ye-es, sir, uh-uh-I-uh-under-uh-stand, uh-uh-uh!

After breakfast, Steve untied Mark’s hands, and the two, nearly bare, young men hiked for several hours before arriving from out of the woods at the camp store. Steve bought supplies they would need for a few weeks, paid for them, and turned to summon Mark to come help him pack them up.

I was wondering when we’d see you two boys come in here for some supplies, the storekeeper said. I heard two brothers were out camping for the summer, he added.

Some other campers came by yesterday and told us about the younger brother getting himself into some trouble, and the older one taking a switch and licking his little brother’s bare behind severely.

Mark’s face was hot and red as he bent over to pick up and pack up the goods Steve had purchased.

Just looking at your kid brother, I can see it was true, what they reported, the storekeeper stated. Are you behaving yourself now, kid? Minding your big brother?

Mark nodded, but Steve prompted him, Answer the gentleman, Mark.

Ah, ye-esss, I am, he answered, hurriedly adding, sir, to eliminate any risk of Steve fulfilling the promise to spank the little brother bare, on the spot, for bad behaviour.

Okay, then boys. Have a good time. Be careful, and you, Mark, is it? Listen to your big brother; do what he tells you, and both you guys’ll have a great summer out here.

Thanks, sir. We sure will, Steve replied, as they hiked off into the woods.

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