The Brat Grows Up

                      Author : Geoff gnomestud@hotmail.com  

Part 1.   The brat gets it.

My story begins when I was a lad of about 14 years, with puberty starting to dominate my life. It was around that time that all the boys at school started noticing girls and I started to notice all the boys at school. A policeman’s family lived next door, their only child was a spoilt brat named Brett. Though he was not what I would call a close friend, and four years younger than me, the fact that he lived next door meant we hung around together some times. His family had a house at the lake and were planning a few days there on the upcoming holiday weekend.Brett’s mother asked if I would like to go along as I would be good company for her son.Not having anything better planned I accepted.

The drive to the lake was not a long one but Brett’s father seemed as though he had woken up on the wrong side of the bed. We sang in the car and he yelled at us. We were mucking around as boys do and he yelled at us. Brett began to sing again, softly, hardly audible. His father slammed on the brakes and the car screeched to a stop. He turned and roared at Brett “do you want to go straight back home’, steam comingout of his nostrils, “or perhaps a trip to the shed when we get there”. Brett said he was sorry and we continued on to the lake. As we sat silently my thoughts turned to the threat of  “the shed”. It seemed to shut Brett up immediately and I wondered what it meant. Soon we arrived at the lake house. It was way off the road down at the edge of the lake not another house for half a mile either side of it. We got out of the car and Brett’s mother went inside to begin making beds and preparing the house for our stay, the rest of us began unpacking the car. A couple of  suitcases , groceries etc.Brett was getting the fishing rods off the roof rack. He was to small to be doing this and should have left them for his dad. He slipped. The tip of his fathers best fishing rod dug into the ground, the rest of it bent right over with Brett as he fell to the ground. We all heard the cracking sound as the tip broke clean off. The look on Brett’s father’s face said it all. He turned to me and told me to go and sit by the lake until he said to come back. He screamed at Brett to go to the shed, the boy was trembling, he had no doubts about what “the shed” meant. The edge of the lake was only about thirty yards from the shed and I sat there contemplating what was going to happen to Brett that scared him so much. Brett’s dad must have been calm and in control as I could not hear him screaming at the boy as he had done earlier. Then it began, Whack, Whack, Whack, Whack. It stopped for a few moments and I thought Brett had had his spanking and was being chastised by his dad. Then it began again. WHACK, WHACK, WHACK, this time the sound of Brett’s fathers hand landing on what I guessed was his bare arse cheeks was much louder. Brett was crying and begging him to stop but the spanking continued. WHACK, WHACK, WHACK. It was then that I noticed my young boys cock was rock hard. I was really turned on, really hot at the sound of my playmate’s arse getting flogged. I wished I was in the shed watching his arse turn red. It continued for about ten minutes, Brett was screaming now to end his torture. It stopped, but only briefly. It began again, this time it was a different sound and Brett was really screaming out in agony. CRACK, CRACK, CRACK. I counted twenty strokes and Brett was crying uncontrollably, completely beaten and humiliated by his father in “the shed”.

The door opened and Brett emerged completely naked, tears streaming down his face as he headed toward the cool of the lake’s water. The cheeks of his arse were the deepest red I had ever seen skin turn. But to me the most amazing thing was that his little ten year old cock was half erect. I guessed that during the main hand spanking he must have been rock hard. Brett’s dad came out of the shed and locked the door, he gave me a look that said if I had been his son I would now be in “the shed” getting what he thought I deserved. I had never been bare arsed spanked in my life and the thought filled me with fear. His father strode past me and into the house and I breathed easier. I looked at Brett cooling his burning arse in the water and raced off into the bush where I jacked off until my pubescent cock exploded. I had never felt anything like it and felt so good. That night in our bedroom as we struggled to nod off to sleep Brett told me that his grandfather who had also been a tough cop used to dish out the same discipline to his father right up until he was twenty one years old. Brett said that his arse was really sore and could we please be good for the rest of our stay as he could not go through another flogging this weekend. He added that his fatherhad said that next time son or not I would get it too. I rolled over in the double bed we had been assigned by his father so that my now fully erect young cock did not touch Brett’s burning arse cheeks. I took it in my hand and drifted off to sleep thinking of Brett’s bright red cheeks.

Part 2. The brat gives it.

The story has moved forward about twelve years. I am now twenty six  and Brett is twenty two. Who would have thought that Brett would develop into such a big beautiful well proportioned hunk, much bigger and obviously stronger than myself. He stands about six foot two with muscular hairy chest and arms and legs to die for. My boyhood fondness for my own sex has developed into a full on love of man to man sex.God I’d love to get it on with my childhood playmate but living in a working class environment means that my sexual liaisons are kept discreet. I usually get my rocks off at one of the area’s beats. Not surprisingly, Brett has followed family tradition and become a policeman, another reason to be cautious about my sexual preference being known to him. I was at the pub this particular afternoon, Brett was there with a few of his mates. They were organising a bar-b-q  for the coming Friday night. Brett unfortunately couldn’t make it as he had to work. Elaborating, he told them he was on queer patrol, which required him to go undercover at the gay beats and book people for indecency in a public place. I imagined he would be perfect for the job as his youth and movie star looks would make him very desirable to guys on the lookout for some action. The conversation ended and I thought no more of it.

Come Friday night I visited some friends until about ten o’clock. Driving home and feeling pretty horny I decided to stop off at my favourite beat and see if I could get some action.This beat is a large park, well out of the way of residential sectors and some nights is really jumping. On this occasion there were only two cars there other than my own, a white sedan and a red ford utility. I got out and strolled into the park. It is dimly lit and makes a perfect place for getting off. The guy in the red ute got out and strolled into the park as well. He was blond, about my age, and nicely built. I sat on a picnic table in the park and lit a cigarette. After coyly wandering around a little the guy approached me. We started up a conversation and soon one thing led to another. We both by this time had our pants and jocks down around our ankles, fondling each others hard cocks. I knelt down and took his eight inch cock in my mouth and began to blow him. Suddenly the guy in the white sedan switched on his headlights, the beam directly on us. My partner screamed “Cops, lets get out of here”. We both pulled up our pants and began to run toward our respective cars, the copper in hot pursuit. As we split up to head in our right directions the cop had to make a choice of which one of us to go for. My car was further away and I soon realised that he was after me.I tried hard but it was too far. About twenty yards from my car he tackled me to the ground, pinning me there and handcuffing me. As he rolled me over I was horrified to see that the cop was Brett. Only now did I remember the conversation at the pub earlier in the week. I looked at him and realised he was smirking. “ I always reckoned you were queer” he chuckled. I begged him to just let me go but he said “job’s a job” and proceeded to frog march me to the unmarked white police sedan.

Once in the car he undid the handcuffs, I guess this was a gesture to a friend. I searched for the door handle and to my dismay there wasn’t one. I was entirely at his mercy. He started the car and drove off in the direction of the police station. All the way I begged him not to book me, I could lose my job and my family would be devastated. “Please Brett I will do anything”. I repeated this several times and he just continued to smirk. Soon the police station was in sight and and I felt resigned to the fact that my young playmate was going to charge me. Brett pulled into the drive of the police station and got out, locking the door, and went inside leaving me in the car. I was confused and didn’t understand what was happening. He emerged from the police station and got back in the car, started it and pulled out of the driveway, “just signing off for the night” he informed me. He headed further out of town and I let out a sigh of relief. As he turned onto the freeway he said “you need not think that you have gotten away with this, your going to get what you should have gotten all those years ago”. I realised we were heading toward the lake and of course “THE SHED”. We didn’t talk during the drive, I suspected he wanted my mind to go back to that weekend  twelve years ago and recall the flogging he had received at his father’s hand’s.

We soon reached the house at the lake, Brett got out of the car and came round to my side and opened the door. I got out and as he shut the car door I began to climb the three steps up to the verandah of the house. “NO” he roared, “not inside the house COCKSUCKER, it’s THE SHED for you”. I begged him “please Brett no, I’m 26 years old, I’m too old to be spanked”. With this he slapped me with the back of his hand across the side of my face, which shocked me into giving him my full attention. “It’s your choice” he said, “you take your punishment like a man” he snorted “and by god I’m gonna hurt you” he said in a forceful tone, “or we go back to the station and you get charged”. With this my head dropped and I resigned myself to the fact that at 26 years of age , for the first time in my life I was gonna get flogged, not by some amateur, but by a guy who all his life had been soundly beaten and would certainly now how to dish it out now as a big strong man. Funny, but as I entered the shed I felt my cock swell a little, even though I was trembling with fear.

Inside the shed was pretty bare. At one end was a bed with just a sheet on it, at the other end a cupboard was mounted on the wall. Right in the centre of the floor was a bench, about two and a half feet tall. The top of the bench was about three feet wide and two feet deep and sloped down at a bit of an angle toward the floor at the end facing the bed. Under the edge of the bench on the cupboard side was hanging a small drawstring bag with string attached to the bottom of it. All four legs had small straps around them.

Brett locked the door and ordered me to remove all of my clothes. I did not resist as I new it was useless and resigned to the fact that this was the only way out of this mess. In no time at all I was naked. It was a hot night and I turned round to find that Brett had stripped down to his briefs. This both surprised and excited me. A closer examination revealed that Brett had the beginning’s of a hard on. He growled at me to lie across the  bench with my head down the slope toward the bed and move forward until my thighs were against the edge facing the cupboard. He was calm and very precise and knew exactly what he was doing although I suspected this was the first time that he was going to beat someone’s bare arse. He came round to the front of the bench and using the straps on both of its legs he secured my wrists. He moved to my rear and gave my arse three semi hard slaps that only served to make my cock swell. Somehow I was excited at what was about to happen. That would eventually change. He secured my ankles with the remaining straps then reached under the bench and opening the drawstring bag placed my balls and almost hard cock inside. He squeezed my cock hard and let out a slight chuckle. Then pulling the string forward he dragged my genitals up under the bench out of harms way and secured them there. All was now ready.

He began to lecture me about how all my life I had been a smart arse and that if someone had given me a good flogging or two I would have a better attitude. Then he spoke about fucking guys in the park being grubby and that I should find some place better for getting laid. He never once said anything bad about actually being gay or sucking and fucking guys. All through this I considered the way he had me positioned arse pointing up in the air, legs and cheeks spread wide open. I could even feel the faintest breeze touching my exposed shit hole. “And now” he whispered “I am going teach you a lesson you wont forget”. The way I was positioned I could see under the bench through my own legs. I could see up to his waist. I could see those beautiful hairy legs and his now obviously rock hard cock bulging through his briefs.

He began to bring his hand down full swing, smacking my bare arse. WHACK, WHACK, WHACK, WHACK. First the left cheek, then the right. He covered every part of my arse and the tops of my thighs. The pain was surprisingly severe, I squirmed and bucked but I was well secured and going nowhere. WHACK, WHACK, WHACK, WHACK, WHACK. My arse was really hurting. But my cock got harder with every stroke. WHACK, WHACK, WHACK, WHACK, WHACK. I begged him to stop, that I had learnt my lesson. WHACK, WHACK, WHACK, WHACK. “This is just the beginning” he said, not missing a stroke. “As I told you in the car, before this is over I am really going to hurt you”. WHACK, WHACK, WHACK, WHACK, WHACK, WHACK. Unbelievably the strokes got even harder. He must have beaten me with his hand for about fifteen minutes. I was close to tears, but determined not to cry. Suddenly it stopped. I was relieved that it was over. Brett didn’t speak. I could see him under the table, the front of his briefs were slightly wet with pre cum. He turned and walked to the far end of the shed and opened up the cupboard. His grandfather had designed the bench well and as he opened the cupboard I could see what it contained. To my horror I could see a leather paddle, a wooden paddle, a two inch thick strap, a cane and an old switch that had been cut from a tree with several barbs still on it. “Please Brett no, not with those”. He said nothing. Removed the leather paddle and ran toward me, slamming the paddle down across my naked arse. It sent me through the roof. He hit me twenty times with it, counting every stroke. I was screaming for him to stop. My erection was gone. He returned to the cupboard and took hold of the wooden paddle. It had holes drilled in the blade to let the air pass through so that there was no resistance when delivering the strokes. I screamed as he again ran toward me landing the wooden paddle across my arse. The strokes continued. THWACK, THWACK, THWACK, THWACK. The tears ran uncontrollably down my face as I cried without embarrassment. He hit me thirty times with the wooden paddle and I thought I would pass out. He returned to the cupboard and I begged him through my tears to please stop. My arse was burning up. I didn’t think I could take any more. I thought back to Brett as a child and cried even more. He turned with the strap in his hand, this time walking toward me. He rubbed my aching arse tenderly with his big hand. “Next time I will use the sticks on you”. He raised his arm and brought it down heavily. CRACK, CRACK, CRACK, CRACK, CRACK. I screamed out in agony, just as I had heard Brett do all those years ago. This was the sound that I heard back then that had really made him scream. CRACK, CRACK, CRACK. I now knew why. The pain was unbearable but Brett continued to flog me as I screamed. I heard him counting aloud, 28, 29, 30. It stopped and Brett threw the strap to the ground. He came to the front of the bench and kneeling down kissed the back of my neck and then my cheek. He whispered in my ear “You needed that and you will need it again someday and I will be there to give it to you”. He kissed my ear. “Next time I will have to use the sticks as well”.

He moved back to my arse and began gently rubbing some type of cream on my cheeks that had a soothing effect. He released my cock and balls from the bag and played with them for a moment. Again I began to swell. He continued to rub the cream on my burning arse cheeks but this time giving my shit hole some attention as well. He inserted one finger in my arse and began to finger me. I could see that his free hand was now massaging the swollen cock through his briefs. My cock was now as hard as it had ever been in my entire life. I whispered, “Fuck me Brett, please”. His hand slipped under the waistband of his briefs and he ripped them from his young muscular body. His cock, so hard that it was pointing straight up his stomach must have been over 9 inches long. He rubbed cream all over his huge meat and moved closer for his assault. The cheeks of my arse still burned but I wanted him to split my hole more than I have ever wanted to be fucked before. With my cheeks already parted and my shit hole wide open, he plunged his weapon forward and into my awaiting tunnel. He plunged deep, all the way home until his hips rested on my burning red cheeks. He slid nearly all the way back out and then rammed it hard all the way back in. It was as if he knew that I loved to be fucked unmercifully hard. My shit hole was aching as he plunged in again and again really letting me know he was in the driving seat. Without my rock hard cock being touched it exploded shooting my load up under the bench. Brett kept pounding my now splitting shit hole like there was no tomorrow. Suddenly his back arched and he drove his huge cock home for the last time, pouring gallons of his love juice deep into my bowels. He kept cumming for about three minutes holding me by the shoulders to keep his still rock hard cock deep in my arse. He remained there for about ten minutes, kissing my back until his cock went soft. He withdrew and released me from the bench.

We laid down on the bed and he gently rubbed my aching arse cheeks. The residue of his cum was seeping out of my arse. He run his finger through it and wiped it across my lips and then kissed me deeply, tasting my saliva and his own cum at the same time. He told me that he was bi but hadn’t fucked many guys. He told me that he loved me and that he would always protect me but that he would beat my bare arse if he thought I needed it.

He reminded me of that night in bed years ago when I rolled over to conceal my hard on and that even as a ten year old he wanted to reach out and play with my cock. He did so now and kissed me deeply and I loved and respected  him like no man before. We sucked and fucked till the sun came up and as we drove home my cock sprang to life as I wondered how long it would be until he flogged me again.