My New Punishment Part 7

By Nocti Raven
[email protected]

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This story is intended for ADULTS ONLY. It contains explicit depictions of sexual activity involving minors. If you are not of a legal age in your locality to view such material or if such material does not appeal to you, do not read further, and do not save this story.

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Sam and I were sitting on a hill, overlooking the schoolyard. It was lunch time, and the rest of our friends had walked home for lunch, so it was just the two of us.

In the field below us, the football team was practicing tackles and throws. My eye was consistently drawn to Ryan, jersey number 25. He was smaller than most of the other players, but he had a solid build and a furious passion. Every time he concussed against that tackling dummy, my butt twitched in fear of his strength.

“That guy’s such a dick,” Sam said. “I really can’t believe he got you like this.”

I looked around nervously, double-checking that we were alone on the hill. We were, but it still made a little uncomfortable to discuss this in public.

“I don’t know,” I said. “He just . . . came in and did it.”

“Yeah, but . . . he couldn’t have done it to me. I wouldn’t have let him. I wouldn’t put up with it. Same with Zack and the others, I bet.” He grinned. “There’s something about you, Jake.”

I frowned. The same thought had occurred to me.

“I don’t know,” I said again.

“Jess told me you never stopped getting spanked. Like, most of us grew out of it a while ago, but your mom just kept goin’ at it.”

He plucked a blade of grass from the hillside, balled it up and flicked it into the distance.

“But it’s not really her fault,” he said. “I mean, your mom’s not some weirdo who refused to stop spanking. It’s you. You kept earning spankings. You never stopped hitting your sister, and ignoring the rules. Jeez, Jake, it’s like you’re still a little kid—and not just in the cock department.”

I blushed.

“I guess that’s why this happened,” Sam continued. ”You’re just a little kid inside, and Ryan’s a grown-up. You just listen to him and let him spank you ‘cause it feels right. Same with Jess. Same with me.” He adjusted his glasses. “My mom says children crave structure. I guess deep down you need your strict babysitters.”

I hugged my knees, retreating into myself. Sam had a remarkable talent for deducing things about me, and I didn’t like it one bit. He was confirming my worst fear: that I’d brought this on myself.

But Sam’s friendly frankness gave me the courage to voice a forbidden thought.

“I don’t need Ryan.”

Sam chuckled. “Don’t let him hear you say that. Might get your balls busted.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I said shakily. “It doesn’t matter what I do. With Ryan, something always happens. There’s always something I did wrong, or a rule that I broke. He always finds a reason to punish me, even when there isn’t one.”

“He was over at your house last night, right?”

I nodded. “He came over for dinner. And he . . .”

“He spanked you?”

“Yeah.”

“What for?”

My brow knotted up. “We got this English assignment back. The one we were working on the day this all started. We got a B plus. I tried to tell him—” Suddenly I was all choked up. “It was all h-him. He w-wouldn’t even let me w-work on it. But he said it was my fault we didn’t get an A.”

Sam sighed. “I guess that is a little unreasonable.”

“His belt,” I said, barely above a whisper. “He hit me so hard.”

“It’s okay,” Sam said gently. He put his arm around my shoulders.

“He didn’t even care about the mark,” I whimpered. “He just likes to . . .”

We were both silent for a moment. I had no words left, and I guess Sam was considering how to react.

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll talk to Jess. Maybe we can set a few ground rules to keep things fair.” I looked up at him, eyes wide with hope. He pulled me in close, and spoke right into my ear. “Make no mistake, Jakey-boy, he’s still the boss of you, just like I am. We’ll just try to make him slightly less evil.”

“Jess is evil, too,” I murmured. “Not as much, but she still hurts me just for fun.”

“Hey,” he snapped, “I said I’ll talk to her. You ought to say thank you, you ungrateful little turd.”

“Than you,” I said quickly. “I . . . I really do appreciate it.”

Sam laughed. “Relax, Jake. I’m just fucking with you. Not to be confused with when I’m fucking you, of course.”

That made me cringe. It was Thursday, a grand total of six days since Sam had . . . asserted his control. Every day my feelings had become more mixed, more confusing. I hated to think of myself in that position . . . but a part of me yearned for it again. That feeling, that degrading, overwhelming, orgasmic feeling . . . I hated myself for enjoying it.

“Anyway, Ryan’s a brutal fuck,” Sam said, “so it might take some time to mellow him out. In the mean time, I’ll try to take you to my place as often as possible. Ryan can’t get you there.”

For some inconceivable reason, I found myself tearing up. “Thanks,” I blubbered. “Thanks a lot.”

“No worries,” he said. “You can stay over again this weekend. Oh, but I may have to invite some of the guys over.”

“What?” I said. “Why?”

“Because you and I have been spending so much time together, retard. They might start to think we’re gay or something.”

“Well . . . isn’t this . . . you know?”

“What?” Sam said. “You think what I do to you is gay?”

“Uh, isn’t it?”

Sam shrugged. “Technically, I guess. But I don’t think of it that way. I just fuck you because I like to fuck. It would only be gay if I fucked you because I like you. And I don’t. I like girls. Actually, now that I think about it, what I do to you isn’t really even sex.”

“It’s not?”

“Nah. More like masturbation. If I had a girlfriend, I’d fuck her. But I don’t, so I make do with you. Feels better than my hand, at least.”

I hung my head miserably. Now I felt even more used, even more like an inanimate plaything. At least he cares, I reminded myself. At least Sam’s still a friend.

Down on the field, the football players had gathered into a huddle. Ryan seemed awfully close to his new football friends; I couldn’t help but wonder if he’d told any of them about our situation. Maybe all the football players were like him: maybe all of them had a slave tucked away somewhere, a personal human toy they could spank and squeeze and fuck to their hearts’ content.

But no, that was ridiculous. I could see the horde of girls crowding the bleachers, watching the practice up close. These guys got all the action they wanted; they didn't need toys like me. But neither does Ryan, I thought. So why does he do it?

Because it’s degrading, of course. Because it puts me in my place.

I shook my head, pushing Ryan from my thoughts.

“So this weekend,” I said. “If you invite some of the guys over . . . what happens with me?”

Sam stroked his chin. “I’ve been thinking about that. Since I’ve agreed to keep this whole thing a secret, I guess I can lift the no clothes rule. And obviously I won’t take advantage or anything while the guys are around. And I guess I’ll try not to boss you around too much, or crack any jokes about you-know-what.” Then he looked me right in the eye, deadly serious. “But you’ll still have to behave, Jake. Do anything stupid and I will punish you, no matter who’s around.”

“But . . . you promised to keep the secret.”

“Yeah, but if you misbehave and require discipline, that’s you revealing the secret, not me.”

I frowned, but nodded. “Okay. I’ll be good.”

“Excellent,” Sam said. He ruffled my hair and got to his feet. “Come on. Lunch is almost over.”

As if on cue, the bell rang out across the schoolyard, signaling the end of the lunch period.

“So,” I said, standing, “can I go to your place tonight? Ryan’s coming over again, and I don’t know what he might do.”

“Sorry,” said Sam. “I’m busy tonight. But don’t worry. I’ll call Jess sometime this afternoon, try to get her and Ryan to go easy on you.”

“Thanks.” I forced a smile.

Sam bounded off to class, and I followed a few paces behind.

#

I sat alone in the bathtub later that night. I’d run a hot bath, hoping to boil away my shame, but it was too hot to get in. I’d let it cool, and now it was too cold. I could feel my naked flesh wrinkling, my nipples stiffening, my dick shriveling.

I sunk deeper into the water, until only my head and my knees were above the surface.

Sam had talked to Jess. That much was certain. And she had definitely talked to Ryan. But I don’t think either of them really got the message.

At least there was no pain. No spankings, no ball squeezes. I tried to tell myself that was progress.

But it wasn’t. Even without hurting me, Ryan had found a way to make me suffer like never before.

I tried to tell myself that was progress, but it wasn’t. Even without hurting me, Ryan had found a way to make me suffer like never before.

“You’ve been a pretty good boy lately,” he’d said. “I’ll reward you by restoring a lost privilege—just for tonight.”

A reward? Yeah right.

Ryan had done everything in his power to deprive me of masturbation, but I’d gotten by. He couldn’t watch me in the school bathrooms, after all. It was nerve-wracking, doing it in such a public place, but it was better than going without.

And Ryan knew, of course. Not because I told him, and not because he had some evidence, but because he’s as male as I am. I knew that he knew . . . but I hadn’t realized how much he resented it.

It made perfect sense, of course; it was defiance he couldn’t put down. It was the only thing I could actually do against his wishes. Obviously it pissed him off.

So tonight, just briefly, he’d done me the great favor of ‘restoring the lost privilege.’

At the dinner table. In front of everyone. In front of my parents.

“Go on,” he’d said, “It’s now or never. Do it.”

And I knew better than to refuse.

It was bad enough to be naked all the time. It was bad enough that they saw me get spanked and get my balls crushed. But Ryan had to take the humiliation one step further.

He had to see me stand there, naked, in front of my parents . . . take my little dick between thumb and forefinger, and . . .

I’d dared to tell him I couldn’t do it—couldn’t get hard with everyone watching. I hadn’t said all those words, of course, but he’d figured it out. But he wouldn’t let me stop. He told me to close my eyes and think about pretty girls.

But I couldn’t. Not anymore. Suddenly every pretty girl in my imagination was laughing at me, pointing at my tiny dick and giggling uncontrollably. In the bathroom stalls at school, I could at least forget about my predicament for a while, but how could I put Ryan out of my head while he was sitting right there?

And then I thought . . . of Sam.

I’d thought of what he did to me, what he’d done in me . . . and suddenly my dick was working again.

I sunk even deeper into the bathtub, till the water tickled my nose.

Actually jerking off to the thought of getting fucked . . . How did it come to this?

I had stood there in the dining room, in front of my parents, and jerked off, thinking about my best friend sticking his dick up my ass.

God, I must have looked so stupidly pathetic. Biting my lip, breathing in gasps, back hunched, eyes unfocused, hand moving back and forth rapidly over that tiny distance . . .

My face burned with shame, so hot I thought the water might actually heat up.

I’d caught the cum in my hand. Ryan quipped that he was surprised I could produce semen at all. Then he made me lick it up—but that was nothing new.

Then he gave me an affectionate pat on the rear, which burned the welts from last night’s spanking, and told me to clear the dinner table. He’d laughed, and Jess had laughed, and my parents laughed . . . and then I went to take my bath.

So here I was, stewing in the tub. Just me and my shame.

Then the door creaked open.

I hadn’t closed it all the way, let alone locked it. I wasn’t allowed any privacy.

Jess walked in, wrapped in a terrycloth bathrobe, and immediately sat up straight. Clearly I’d hogged the bathtub too long, but maybe I could dodge punishment if I vacated it quickly.

“Don’t get up,” she said cheerily. I gingerly reclined. Maybe she was just passing through, just getting something from the bathroom during my bath to remind me how little privacy I had. But why was she in her bathrobe?

Then suddenly she wasn’t. She opened her robe and let it fall to the floor. She was wearing a bikini, blood-red and skimpy as can be. I was overwhelmed by the sudden reality: my little sister was hot. Twelve years old, but developing beautifully.

And this hot girl, this babe, belonged to Ryan. I didn’t want Jess, of course, but I was astonished by her beauty, and infinitely jealous of any man who could claim such beauty. Even if she weren’t my sister, even if I could want her, I’d never have a chance.

In fact, I think she was rubbing it in. It meant something that she was letting me see her like this. Usually only Ryan got to see her wearing so little—no other man had earned the pleasure. But I wasn’t a man; I wasn’t a threat to Ryan. It was almost like a mother letting her little kid see her naked: completely innocent.

But it wasn’t innocent. I was fourteen years old, and I had a sex drive. And my heart’s deepest desire was to see a naked girl in the flesh.

That was why she kept the bikini on. It was teasing, nothing more. Just brutal, evil teasing.

Despite myself, I felt my dick getting a little bit stiff. I winced, willing it to stop.

Jess stepped into the tub and gracefully lowered herself to sit opposite me. The tub was just barely big enough to fit the both of us.

She stretched out a leg, prying my shins apart with her foot. Her toes poked into my scrotum and came to rest on my balls, pinning them to the floor of the tub. She wasn’t applying any pressure yet, but, of course, she could turn on the pain at any moment.

“Jakie,” she said, “we need to talk.”

I couldn’t talk. I couldn’t even look her in the eye. But I gave a shallow nod to show I was following.

“I had a nice chat with Sam today. He made some interesting points.”

Interesting? What did that mean? Did Sam’s message get through or didn’t it? Given Ryan’s behavior tonight, it was kind of hard to tell.

“You see, Jake, we’ve been hard on you because you’ve earned it. You’ve been a bad little boy for your whole life, especially to me. And even with Mom’s spankings, you were never getting all the punishment you deserved. I mean, the fact that you never grew out of spankings probably means you never learned your lesson, right?” There was a pause. “Right?”

I nodded again.

“It may seem like we punish you for no reason, but we’re really just making up for lost time. Playing catch-up. Get it?”

Another nod.

“But Sam made the point that . . . eventually you’ll be all caught up. There’s only so much to make up for. Since it’s hard to measure these things precisely . . .”

I looked up, meeting her eyes for what felt like the first time in weeks. Could this be . . . good news?

“Well, we’ve agreed that perhaps you’re getting close to the quota. I’ve talked to Ryan about this, and we’ve agreed to start going a little easier on you. I guess you could say we’re phasing out some of the just-for-fun punishments.”

I blinked. I almost—almost—smiled. This was perhaps the best news I’d heard in my entire life.

“Don’t get too excited,” she warned, and she gave my balls a little press for emphasis. “You’re still a naughty little boy, and you still need guidance from your babysitters. And that guidance definitely still includes punishment. Just . . . a little bit less.”

“B-but,” I stammered, “no more . . . just-for-fun punishments.”

Both our eyes widened a little as the reality set in . . .

I just spoke to her!

How long had it been since I had the courage to talk to Jess out of turn? For weeks I’d only spoken when spoken to, because I was afraid of what I’d get if I didn’t answer.

But now I wasn’t answering her. I was just . . . talking to her.

“Uh, yeah,” she said. “Eventually. That’s what I said.”

“So really,” I said, astounding myself with every syllable, “if I’m good . . . if I don’t earn any punishment . . . maybe there won’t be any.”

Jess blinked, her mouth agape. It was incredible to see her like this. Stunned, confused, maybe even the tiniest bit alarmed.

But it didn’t last long.

She closed her mouth, narrowed her eyes, and folded her arms, pushing up her precocious breasts.

“You don’t get to say if you’ll be punished or not,” she said. “Where and when and if you get punished is up to me. Whether you’ve earned it or not is up to me. Don’t you ever forget that.”

I looked down again. Suddenly everything was back to normal.

“I’m sorry,” I whimpered. It felt like my dying breath.

“I told you not to get too excited,” she snapped. “Clearly you weren’t listening.”

I held my breath, certain my balls were about to be crushed between Jess’s toes and the bathtub floor.

But they weren’t.

Jess withdrew her foot from my crotch.

“Stand up,” she said.

I stood up, and I tried to ignore the bird’s-eye view of her chest. Luckily there was no chance of an untimely erection; the water barely went up to my knees, and the rest of me was quite chilly.

Jess turned and grabbed a couple things from the shelf next to the tub. It was a shelf I never looked at, where Jess kept all her various grooming products.

Then, before I knew it, she was kneeling before me.

I was standing, and she was kneeling in front of me. Her face was level with my naked crotch.

Instinctively I glanced at the door; if someone walked in on us right now, it would look very, very bad.

But then I felt pressure on my pelvis, just above my dick.

Jess had pressed her palm against it, spreading some kind of white paste.

There was a razor in her other hand.

Shaving my pubes, I thought. I guess it was bound to happen eventually.

In fact, I was surprised it had taken her this long. It was such an obvious thing, such a basic, simple, easy way to emasculate me.

Then again, it wasn’t all that necessary; I couldn’t get much lower than I already was. Until, of course, I spoke out of turn. Maybe she’d been holding this in reserve, saving it for a special day, when I really needed to be taken down a peg.

I didn’t even feel the razor gliding over my skin. I just saw my thin, wispy pubic hair, matted with goo, falling down into the bathwater.

“It’s not much,” Jess said, “but it’s still a sign of manhood. And you don’t deserve signs of manhood.”

And then it was done. She ran her fingertips over the newly smoothened surface; it almost tickled. As insignificant as my pubes had been, they were still enough that the skin beneath hadn’t been directly touched in quite a while.

It was also very cold.

“Perfect,” she said. “Baby smooth. And you’re going to stay this way until I say differently. You’ll probably only need to shave once a week, but keep an eye on it. If I touch you down there and you’re not smooth, that earns you a punishment. Got it?”

I nodded.

“The rest of your body hair is basically invisible, so you can keep it for now. But when it starts to show, I’ll teach you how to shave your legs. Oh, and you have my permission to use my razor until mom buys you your own.”

She rinsed her hand and the razor in the bathwater, then set the razor back in its place. Then she stood up.

My sister was at least four or five inches shorter than me, but seeing our bodies side-by-side had the same effect as it did with Ryan or Sam. She really was very womanly for a twelve-year-old.

“Sit down,” she said, and I obeyed.

She stepped out of the bathtub and wrapped a towel around herself. I noticed she was completely dry from the neck up; her hair had never touched the water.

My body began to relax as I realized she was going to leave. Then she knelt by the bathtub, and I tensed right up.

“Jake,” she said, “you have to understand what’s going on here. The just-for-fun punishments are going away, and you should be happy about that. But you shouldn’t think of it as a change in the way things are.”

She reached into the bathwater, and her fingers found my balls. I knew what was coming.

“Please,” I murmured, “I understand. You don’t have to—”

She squeezed. Hard.

I wheezed and doubled over. Tears blurred my vision. I opened my mouth to scream, but no sound came out. My whole body was so tense I thought my muscles would rip themselves apart.

And then it was over.

As always, the pain lingered, but at least it was over.

I panted heavily, exhausted by the exertion.

But . . . what exertion? What did I do but experience pain?

My body, I realized. When my muscles tense up like that . . .

I was fighting against myself, fighting the instinct to defend my own safety. When Jess had her fingers around my balls, there was an animal power inside of me that took control of my limbs, and it wanted to punch her in the face. I was exhausted from fighting that power.

She squeezed my balls, and I wore myself out protecting her from my own justice.

She didn’t deserve it. She didn’t deserve to be protected.

But I couldn’t let myself hit her. Not because I loved her, and not because I’d be punished for it . . . but because I just couldn’t.

There was nothing I could do but sit there and take it.

My balls still throbbed with the pain.

My fist was still clenched, ready for a punch that would never be thrown.

Jess stood up and wiped her wet hand on her towel.

“As far as you’re concerned, baby brother, just act like nothing’s changed at all.”

The End