The Other Side of Midnight 8

The Other Side of Midnight – Chapter 8

By Patrik Razmuzzen

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This work is intended for ADULTS ONLY. It may contain 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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"I'm liking your cousin," Claire told me a couple of days later.

"What?"

"Amy. She has a certain way with Mark."

I had noticed and I was far from surprised.

Amy had described watching Mark as the craziest thing she'd ever seen. So much so, she wanted to see it again and it became impossible to shake her off any time I headed over to Mark's. Unfortunately for her, though, her visit coincided with Mark's parents taking a brief break from touring to visit home. So although Mark was sitting with us on the porch, he was fully dressed and life was, in a sense, normal. He could still be dispatched for drinks though, apparently.

"So when are you going to start playing?" Claire said once he was gone. "It's not a spectator sport, you know?"

My heart plunged. It was the words I'd feared - I still had been just hanging on and not doing anything and wondering how long it would take her to notice.

"You didn't seem to want to do much at the beach," she added. "If I didn't know better, I'd swear it was Amy who was training and now you..."

"I just... I was just a bit scared of getting into trouble," I said. "I mean, you guys seem to know what to do and when to do it - I'd only get seen"

Claire nodded. "You have a point there," she said. "But there's still plenty of private times if you make them. Invite him over some time when your parents go out and you're alone."

That never really happened very often when I was a kid.

That wasn't a problem though. Clair decided that what we need was a road trip in a house in the country where a friend of Ella's lived. She invited Amy as well, which I wasn't all that happy about. Last thing I needed was my cousin showing me up again.

Claire and Angel picked us up in Angel's motor home early the next morning, and it was one of the most beautiful and luxurious vehicles I've ever been in. Seriously, it really was huge. Both me and Amy got on and were instantly speechless.

There was a kitchen, a bathroom even a bedroom/living room at the back.

And there, sitting on a bunk, was Mark - as innocent and naked as ever, with his legs spread and an erection pointing up proudly from underneath.

"I assume you have clothes somewhere?" I said.

"Yeah, at home," Claire replied.

"Not here?"

"Why does he need them here?" Claire interrupted.

"Seriously?" I couldn't believe it. Where were we going? And what would happen if we got pulled over by the police or something?

"It's not a crime to be naked when you're indoors," Claire told me, almost as if she could read my mind. "And Mark likes being naked, don't you?"

Mark just smiled It was half real, half pretend, but it still looked natural. "All part of the game," he said.

We sat down and Amy pulled off again and before I knew it, we were on the outskirts of town and then nothing but fields whizzing by. And Mark, squirming and not just because of the attention Amy was paying him. He needed to go, and badly.

Eventually, he had the courage to say it: "I need to pee!"

"I think you'd better pull over," Claire called over to Angel.

Angel slowed down and came to a stop by the edge of the road and opened the door. Mark got up and waddled up the aisle of the RV. Then he looked both ways and jumped out.

I honestly thought he was going to just stand on the step and pee onto the road, but that was apparently not allowed. Instead, they had him walk over to a tree, still naked and put his hands on his head while he went. I could only see him from the back, but I could see the angle of pee spraying up against the tree, almost as high as his head, which meant he was still trying to pee through a hard on.

What must he be thinking? I wondered.

I looked out for cars passing us by, but there were very few and the few that did pass by didn't seem to be all that bothered. If they even saw him - he was still well shielded by the motorhome. Certainly, none of them seemed all that bothered.

As he was finishing, I heard a giggle and the motorhome started to roll forward and Mark, still peeing, jerked around, almost peeing on himself.

"Hey! Wait!" he yelled. "I'm not done yet!"

Needless to say, we didn't wait. Still hard and not yet finished peeing, he had to hurry up and run after us. Only when a few cars came close to us did she let up and let him get on.

"That was the funniest thing ever!" Amy laughed. "Watching your - thing - bounce around like that was amazing! We should do it again."

"I don't need to pee anymore," Mark said adamantly.

"We can still make you run," I said.

"No shoes," Claire pointed out. "Would have been a good idea though, to make him chase us for a bit. Maybe next time?"

Not long after we pulled off the road onto a gravel driveway and pulled up in front of a small but remote house with a large shed attached to it. A woman who'd obviously been painting came out from the shed and greeted us as we filed off the bus. Mark, needless to say, was last, stepping gingerly onto the gravelled driveway.

"Wow, he's keen," the woman said in an American accent. It was only then that I recognised the resemblance to Ella - I found out later, this was her older sister. "You don't have to get naked until you're inside and ready to pose!"

Mark went a bit red, but said nothing. He was starting to get an erection and was forbidden from doing anything to hide it. Or relieve it.

The woman led us into a surprisingly bright room, full of easels, paintings and the smell or turpentine. She indicted for Mark to step up onto a small platform she'd set up in the middle of the room.
"I didn't think you were bringing so many people," she said to Claire.

"Why not? We could all use a day out," Claire replied. "And you did say you might need a more models."

"Not at the same time," the woman said. "Why? Who did you have in mind?"

At that point they both started laughing.

Mark took his place on the podium while the rest of us sat in chairs scattered around the studio. Ella's sister disappeared and then some lights went on and off, changing the way Mark was posed completely. Some of the lights looked great and showed even his body even more dramatically. Finally, she appeared behind her easel and started directing Mark in various poses while she sketched. It didn't help, having a semi-hard penis bouncing around while he was moving from pose to post and then standing still for up to five minutes at a time, complete with a wavering erection which was forever out of his reach.

"Try and keep still.... that's it - thanks!" And then nothing for a few minutes and then. "Try and keep the erection - it really makes the picture. But don't move!"

I hadn't noticed it fading, but suddenly it jerked up again as Mark tried to concentrate on whatever made him hard. It never rose above mid height though, pointing straight out when it should have been pointing at the ceiling.

"Come on, Mark - get it up, or it's a punishment!"

"I'm trying," Mark grunted.

But nothing happened. If anything, it wilted a little more. At least until Amy said she could help. Then she stepped up onto the podium and started juggling Mark's balls in his sack and massaging her fingers along the base of his shaft. That did the trick in seconds. Mark did well to not move, just looking a bit horrified as my cousin manipulated it.

Fifteen seconds later, he was harder than he'd been all day and breathing surprisingly heavily. Just as his chest heaved and I thought he was actually about to cum, Amy withdrew her hand and sat back down again.

"Well done you," Claire said. And then, "remember Mark, no cumming."

Mark took a few deep breaths to calm himself down, as his erect penis quivered in mid air. For a few seconds, I thought it was too late, but he managed to stop himself.

He was still hard ten minutes later, when the painting was finished. It was a really nice piece of work, too - a watercolour portrait of an erotic angel on the edge of desire, with the warmest, softest skin-tones I'd ever seen.

"Ok, I need two people for the next one..." she said.

Amy's hand shot up.

"... but it has to be another boy - sorry!"

Amy groaned. Then slowly, everyone looked around at me. "What-what do I have to do?" I asked.

"Just sit down on the podium here," she said, indicating where Mark had been lying. I did as she asked. Then she messed around with some switches and the lights dimmed, then rose again and then changed angle. "Perfect," she said."Then I'm going to get Mark to lie down over your knee as if you were spanking him."

And all thoughts of relaxation went out the window as my heart nearly exploded. "You're going to - what?"

"Is that okay?" she asked. "Can you do that?"

"Course he can," Claire interrupted. "Be good practice for him!"

"Great!" She took Mark be the arm, still hard, still erect and now his entire body was shaking unsteadily. At that point, I'd never seen him so nervous. I'd seen him uncomfortable and even a little scared, but never really to the point that the mixture of fear and joy made him shake.

He needed one of the girls to help him into position and lower him over my lap. He felt wonderfully heavy, draped naked across my legs, with his soft warm-skinned bottom facing right up at me. it was strangely comfortable, as if he belonged there. I wasn't the only one a racing heart either, nor was he the only one with an erection. I sat upright and moved him slightly away from my stomach, in case it was telling.

"Ok, I want you to put one hand here across his upper back," the artist said, taking my left hand and placing it on more on Marks' side, under his arm than his back, so that I could hold him better, "and then hold the other in the air - like this - as if you're just about to spank him." I held the position as she stepped back. "Perfect!"

At the time, I wondered how she hadn't noticed that both of was were sexually charged and shaking, but now I think she more than likely did notice, but didn't care.

She went back behind the easel and started to paint again. I moved the hand that was touching Mark a few times just to get a better feeling from his smooth skin, but it was the arm in the air that actually started to ache first. It's not easy holding a pose like that even for five minutes. Thankfully all she was doing was sketching us.... for now.

When she announced that she was finished I was glad to stretch my arms a bit.

"Okay," she said, "next I want to paint it like you're actually spanking him."

"I thought he was?" Mark asked.

"No this time, with his hand actually spanking down on your bottom. Okay?"

Had I heard her right? I had to put my hand on his bottom as if I was spanking him and was I okay with it? "Yeah, of course," I said as casually as I could. Which probably wasn't all that casual.

"Excellent!" She came over took me hand and guided it down through a spanking arc and then it happened - she placed it right on the smooth warm muscle and it felt amazing. I groaned. It was the most beautiful thing I have ever touched. Perfectly soft, a little bit flabby and a little bit firm and muscular but not too much of either. Like a warm water balloon, but smoother and ......... It fit almost perfectly in the palm of my hand with my fingers reaching around to his hip.

"Ok try that again."

There was a groan from Mark.

She lifted my arm back to where it was. This time I was to lower it myself, as if I was spanking him in slow motion, right up to the point that it slapped into his bottom.

She had me do this three times. On the third occasion, it was a real spank - a loud 'slap' echoed out around the place and Mark actually yelped.
"That's it, Mark," Claire said, "give him a spanking if he squirms."

"Sorry," I said.

"Oh, no need to apologise," the artist said. "Just hold it like that, okay?"

It was the most intense thing I'd ever felt. Not just the act of having naked Mark draped over my laps and my open hand on his bare bottom, but the actual humiliation of the act. Me dressed and sitting up, him naked and submitting. I could feel the energy and the heat from him as he lay there, quivering. I wanted desperately to move my hand around and to really molest him - after all, he was there for my energy - but I had to stay still for the artist.

Finally, it was over and Mark got up, still red and still shaking. It was then that I realised that there was a wet patch on my jeans - just inside the thigh,

"Oh Mark, did you come without permission?" Claire chided him. "We're going to have to punish you for that."

"It's... what?"

"I know," Claire said, "we still haven't mastered control yet, have we?"

I couldn't believe it - all this time, I was trying to concentrate on the pose and not looking like a pervert, but he was the one came...?! Wow! That just made me even more horny.

"I may have to get Derek to do it, though - seeing as it was he you befouled."

I wasn't sure whether Mark looked more horrified or intrigued by the suggestion.

"Derek might...?" the artist said.

"Yeah, I'm training Derek up to be a Master," Claire said.

"Nice idea. How's it going?"

There was a horrible pause. "I'd say slowly," Claire said eventually.

By that stage it was getting dark, so we had to pile back into the motorhome and start heading back. We were about halfway home - mostly spent with Amy telling me how lucky I was that Mark came for me and trying to get him to cum herself - when Claire took me to one side. She'd had an idea, I knew it, and I wasn't sure if I was going to like it. "When does Amy go back?"

"Thursday."

"Excellent."

"Why?"

"Because on Friday, I'm going to a concert and staying at a friend's house. "So you can give him his punishment."

"Okay..." I said.

"And I'm asking you to sleeping over."

My mouth went dry.

"It'll be just the two of you," Claire whispered.

(The End)