Never Play Poker with Girls Chapter 07
By Jaech Reiter
Copyright 2010 by Jaech Reiter, all rights reserved
* * * * *
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.
* * * * *
Some Characters:
The Gant Family:
Mike and Judie Gant.
Marissa, 16 years.
Ricky, 15 years.
Melanie and Will, 12 years, 10 months.
Henry, 11 years, 9 months.
Neighborhood:
Zachary Manning, 12 years 11 months - lives one block over; kind of an ass, obnoxious. One
inch taller than Will; has PE with Will.
School:
Curtis Bedwell, 12 years 7 months - one of Will's best friends; reddish-brown hair, could
pass for 13 already; has PE with Will.
Mark Young, 12 years 10 months - in PE with Will; history of antagonizing him.
Coach Tom Maguire - Head Coach, 8th grade PE, football.
Chapter 07
Intention, Detention, Prevention
Will woke up Wednesday morning already feeling anxious about two things.
The first was that he was hard again, well, sort of hard. And, also once again, he couldn't maintain the interest in trying to jerk it off in hopes it would go down, although by now he was realizing that that alone, even if he was successful in producing something of an orgasm, just wasn't going to do the trick. What had him more worried was that he was just starting to put together that it was the plunging of his butt that seemed most able to get him relief, both emotional and dicktional.
Will laughed at his made up word, but that didn't assuage the further realization that after the last two plungings he wasn't really hard the next day. So why now?
And then there was that other thing. Today would be his first full naked day in PE, at least in front of all the other guys. Maybe it was true that most of them were still hairless, but they hadn't already bragged about having hair, now to be exposed as hairless. And he had people waiting, just waiting to trounce him with anything embarrassing that they could - Zachary Manning for one, who would use all his energy, Will was sure, to recruit others in ridiculing him.
Ahh man, Will thought, did he really have to get up today? But in the end, even another 15 minutes before his alarm clock went off, there was still more than school calling him to get up. He had to pee. Will swung out of bed, and that's when another memory hit him head on - or rather, something else straight on.
He had forgotten about the testicular biopsy. He was leaning forward, groaning deep in his belly from the wave of sudden soreness that felt like a light kick in the balls. If it was going to be sore like this every time he moved, why the hell was the doctor sending him back to school??
He had barely felt the wash of pain and slight nausea recede when his mom knocked on the door and walked straight in.
"I thought I heard you up, sweetie, are you OK?"
"NO, mom, I'm fine, please." He just needed her to go away so he could get in the shower and pee. That was when he realized that his dick was hard and sticking straight up out of his boxers . He forgot about the pain and desperately reached around for his pillow to cover up.
"Oh sweetie, you forget that I've already seen your little friend down there, just yesterday actually."
"MOMMM! Come on! I'm a guy! Give me some privacy, please. And quit saying it's little!! It's not little!!"
Then Will blushed even further as he realized that he was actually discussing his dick size with his mother of all people. This really couldn't get any worse.
Judie Gant just smiled and chuckled to herself, which didn't help Will feel any better. "OK, son, whatever you say. But I'm still your mother, young man," she said, emphasizing the word 'man' a bit too sarcastically. "And I still need to check that area of your little boys where the doctor made that cut yesterday."
Dammit!! Again with the word 'little'. "No mom, really, it's OK. Can you just leave please so I can get a shower?"
"William Carmichael Gant, do you want me to whip your bare bottom? Will that help you forget about the pain in your little boy parts?"
"No, ma'am," he said and cringed. It wasn't from the threat of spanking, which was frightening enough as he hadn't had one of those in a while, but the words 'little boy parts.' That was even worse than before.
"Then stand up and drop your underwear, put your hands on your head, and let me have a look."
"Mooommm, noooo." He whined out.
"So help me William, I will get them off one way or the other; it's up to you how badly everything hurts when I do! And I have to do it, I might just make you stay naked!"
Will wanted to cry. Being forced to let his mom look at him yesterday when he was getting the ultrasound was bad enough. But now he was going to be undressing right in front of her and letting her examine him. That was shameful in and of itself, and it also brought back a flood of shame from the whole preceding day. But he could see in her eyes that she meant business, and any delay was seriously going to hurt.
And that part about remaining naked? -- shivers.
Will moaned as he stood, pain competing with humiliation, and pushed his boxers down and slowly, and very reluctantly, put his hands on his head.
"Well, it looks OK, does it hurt much when I'm moving your boy parts around, sweetie? . . . . Will??
"Yes!!" He let out in a tight gasp, but still trying to hold his air in. It wasn't the pain that was causing this, though, but as his mother was examining his hairless testicles, the back of her hand was brushing against the underside of his dick, and the feeling was driving him crazy!
Will wanted to die. He felt like a sick pervert. He was about to get off from the feel of his own mother's hand against his dick! It felt soooo good, though, and he so needed some relief. To his horror, he actually caught himself trying to rock against that hand!! Thank goodness his mom didn't seem to notice.
"Will sweetie, that really looks like it hurts."
"No," he said, though his voice was strained, "It doesn't. I'm fine. Please. Can . . . . go?"
"Hmmm, I don't know . . . ."
But the way she was resting her hand was still stimulating his dick, and now . . . . it was too late . . .
"Agggghhnnnh . .. ." Will moaned out as his dick shot a small load of semen, largely diminished of any sperm. The sudden contraction in his balls, a willingness to participate, but unable to fully, caused an increase of pain that actually boosted the height of the orgasm. It felt like the most intense orgasm that he could possibly have, yet at the same time somewhat empty and unfulfilled, as though it had been prematurely aborted before he could get any real substantial ejaculate out.
Unfortunately the orgasm was as painful as it was pleasurable. And ten times as embarrassing as he would have ever thought possible before yesterday.
"Oh, my!" his mother said, smiling as she backed away. "I didn't mean to cause that. I'm sorry, Will."
He tried to mumble that it was OK, anything so long as they didn't have to discuss this. All he could do, though, was just shake his head and try to concentrate on remaining standing. He was still reeling from the intense pain/pleasure synergy that had just rushed through him. He could only hope that he actually did not end up spraying his mom or her hand with his own cum!!
"No, no, Will, I should have known better. A boy that wakes up like that, even a little boy like yourself, who still hasn't yet arrived in puberty . . . . ."
Ahh geez, again?? Enough already with the 'little boy'. But . . . that's really what he was now. Marissa's damn hair cream and his stupid sister Melanie wanting to play poker had made him into a little boy. And now . . . his humiliation was complete.
Or at least, so he had thought.
"Oh, Will sweetie, I thought your little boy parts might need some extra support for the next two days, something more snug than those boxers you like so much, so I got you a few pairs of Henry's old briefs. I want you to wear those for the next few days, at least."
"Momm! NO!"
HENRY'S old underwear? Not just used underwear, bad enough, or just smaller size, worse, but his own little brother's underwear!!!! Underwear that even his little brother couldn't wear anymore!
"Will, so help me, don't you dare argue with me."
"Mom! Come on!! I have to dress out today! Everyone is going to see me in those! I can't do that! And they're HENRY'S!!"
"That is all nonsense, Will. You and Henry are about the same size. He's catching up to you fast, and will probably pass you up. I know you don't like it, but he is probably going to develop faster than you."
No, Will thought, because I am already developing; I just don't look like it because of my stupid sisters. "Mom, it's not just that - but Henry's? I mean, he's my LITTLE brother."
"He's not so little compared to you, I would bet." His mom said, causing an unavoidable wince by Will. "And besides, who is going to know that the underwear used to be Henry's, unless you tell them?"
"But everyone will see that they are too small!"
But it was no use; she wouldn't hear any more and sent him off to school. On the one hand, the briefs were tight enough to be uncomfortable everywhere in his midsection; but on the other, they were tight enough to give support to his still aching nuts and reduce some of the specific discomfort there.
In the end, the fear of gym took his mind off everything else; but on the way he had to deal with a new smug look of disdain from Henry, and winced again knowing that Henry just thought of him as a little boy that hadn't yet development. For the first time he began wondering just how far behind him that Henry was. And then an even more shocking epiphany:
What if that chemical on or in his balls lasted so long that Henry caught up with him?? Or worse, passed him!!???
"What's up little Willie?" he suddenly heard the rude voice of Zachary Manning and the sneering laugh of Killian Olsen. "Oh, wait, you can't really get it 'up' can you?"
"Or at least not much to it," Killian added.
"Is that why you had to go see the doctor, little Willie?"
Will blushed at the real reason he had gone to the doctor and what had happened there, but unfortunately to the other kids at the stop, the blush looked like something of a confirmation, and suddenly everybody was more interested in what Zachary had to say. And there was already a large group gathered, from both the middle school and the elementary school, as both busses were running late.
Zachary noticed a lop-sided sneer and half-smile from Henry, and he realized he was on to something embarrassing, whatever it meant, and he kept on razzing Will, with Killian throwing in irritating asides that were not nearly as witty as Zachary's, but just as inflammatory.
There were no rejoinders from Will; instead he just became more and more angry at the treatment, and more and more embarrassed at the audience, until he lashed out:
"Fuck you, Zach, and you, too, Killian, although you probably already do that for each other."
The audience 'ooohed" but Zach was nonplussed. "Oh . . . . is that like a fantasy of yours, little Willie? When you try to imitate the big boys and beat off at night? Have you even got any hair down there?"
"I got more than you hope to have." The reply was automatic and just came out, past any filters, totally without thought. But once it was out there . . . . . .
Everybody heard it, and it sounded almost like it was a challenge. Zachary was watching Henry's reaction, and as soon as he saw the look oh surprise as he stared at his older brother, Zachary knew that he had Will.
"You wanna bet on that?"
"Hunh?" Now Will was taken aback. He had just realized what he had said.
"I said, pussy, you wanna bet on it?" Zachary was smiling, Killian was smiling, even Henry started to break out into a smile. Everyone but Will - and his sister actually, and she had grabbed his arm as a warning not to go any farther. But Will was angry, he was challenged all of a sudden, and something flowing inside him, extra testosterone that his body and psyche was ill equipped to handle and unable to channel into anything but aggression, pushed him forward.
"Yeah, you got a bet, dickwad," Will said angrily, his subconscious searched the worst of the playground banter he had heard over the years to come up with a suitable punishment for the prick, Zachary. "You lose and you suck on Killian's dick right here at the bus stop and show everybody what a fag you are. You two should be pretty good at it by now."
Holy crap, where did that come from? As soon as he got it out, a surge of fear ran through him and his eyes widened in terror at the way he had escalated this. Melanie saw it, wondering what on earth had gotten into her brother. Was he crazy? Even Henry looked shocked, but his curious expression buoyed Zachary's trust that he was right.
"All right," Zachary said to the surprise of everyone, including Killian. Zachary even brushed off the whole queer reference as he grabbed his crotch and stepped forward menacingly, "and when everyone in PE sees I'm the winner of this bet, you'll suck this in front of everyone in the locker room, and then again in the showers afterward. You'll swallow everything, too. Deal little Willie?"
Zachary pulled his hand away and held it out for a shake, but Will looked at it in disgust. It had just been cupping the crotch of another boy.
"No, Will, no bets. You know that no matter how it turns out, it's a REALLY bad idea!" Melanie was sounding frantic. Had her brother lost his mind?? Henry was thinking the same thing, but he wasn't frantic. He was just waiting against all odds that his brother would inexplicably take the deal. But he couldn't be that far gone mentally.
Zachary pulled his hand away and looked at it smiling. "I got it, don't want to shake the hand of a boy who just grabbed his dick; don't see where it matters none since you'll be sucking on it soon."
With that Zachary withdrew his right hand completely and offered his left for a shake. But Will now stared at that hand in fear as well, but for a wholly different reason. His conscious reasoning was catching up to the situation and demanding to know what he was going to do now. He had to save face somehow, he had to keep his cool and not look scared; but the taunts of 'chicken' from the other kids, including the elementary kids who didn't quite understand the bet, and the sounds of 'cluck's and 'bwahk's filled the air and sounded like jet engines drowning out every sound.
He was vaguely conscious of Melanie tugging his arm, trying to pull him away and off to the side, but everything seemed to be going slightly blurry. He was confused, disoriented, and found himself reaching out to take the proffered left hand and shake it weakly, just barely uttering the horrifying word: "Deal."
Zachary wasn't unaware of the danger in making a deal this drastic. He was a month older and an inch taller than Will, but he knew that didn't mean anything. He had a cousin that was even taller than him and four months older, but bald as the day at sunrise. The cousin had a bigger dick, slightly, but no hair. But dick size wasn't the bet with Will, and Zachary was a student of facial expression, as most kids with a street and survival instinct were, and he was betting that Henry's expressions couldn't have been faked.
Will's disorientation was subsiding and the fear of what he had actually just done was rising. Fast. He had to think of a way out of this. He looked quickly over to Melanie, searching for an answer on her face, but what he saw was no answer, just a mixture of perplexity, frustration, and anger.
He would just refuse to do it. That was it. He could certainly afford more to be ridiculed as a welsher than a cocksucker. He had never even used that word before. His mouth wasn't that filthy, yet. And if he couldn't even use it, he certainly couldn't be known as it. But Zachary must have anticipated that he might welsh.
"Hey, Freddy, you understand what this bet was all about?"
"Yeah!" A plucky fifth grader awaiting the elementary school bus answered back, a little annoyed by the suggestion that he wouldn't understand. This wasn't a bully-type kid, but he carried himself as the one kid on the playground you just don't mess with. "I aint no little kid."
Nobody laughed at the little kid who said he wasn't 'no litlle kid'; which of course, let you know he wasn't only serious, but taken seriously as well.
"Think your brother Vic will be the guy that makes sure that both of us keeps their end of the bet?"
"Probably." Freddy pulled out a cell phone and walked away from the crowd of kids, and began talking in hushed tones, gesturing as he explained everything to his brother.
"Zachary, we don't need to be involving anybody else in this," Will began nervously.
The very slightly older boy read the fear easily and sneered at his longtime foe from the neighborhood, "Gant, what the fuck? You made this deal and the pay-up public. Who do you think is not going to know about it?"
Freddy came back with a smile on his face. "Vic said it's done, and whoever loses is gonna owe him a private session. And I get one too."
Freddy had added the last part quickly, which would have made Zachary smile - he was pretty sure that Vic hadn't included his little brother in the price tag - but his overriding concern was now what if he had been wrong? He certainly didn't relish the idea of going down on Will Gant right at the bus stop - though there was the chance that Will would back out from public exposure; but now they were both committed to giving Vic DiMario a blow job - that is, whoever either lost or backed out. That was equally disturbing.
"That's fine, Freddy." Zachary's agreement was really more for Freddy's debt collection than Vic's. Vic's collection was assured the moment Zachary asked the boy to get involved. Zachary knew that; he just hoped it would be Will paying the debt.
Will didn't know what to do or say. He just felt lost and hopeless. He just shrugged, and everyone took that as an agreement.
The bus came and everyone got on, careful to keep the chatter about the bet low so the bus driver wouldn't clue in. They didn't give the bus driver enough credit - but he certainly wasn't about to interfere.
Will spent the whole time trying to think his way out of this one, with his fuming sister sitting next to him for a change. She didn't say much, alternating between wanting to help him and wanting to bless him out. Will also vacillated between returning to his old reliance on his twin for help and the new assertion of his separate manliness. Unfortunately their wavering moods did not collide properly.
Melanie suddenly felt that she had to do something to help her twin brother, but he just told her to bugger off; he didn't need any girl's help.
"Fine!" Melanie got up and moved to another seat. Will instantly felt bad. The damage was done. He would have to face the disgrace in PE alone and isolated. Even his friends couldn't - and maybe wouldn't? - help him out of this. That's when it hit him. The bet for Zach was all about PE; if Will got himself kicked out of PE, maybe even suspended, then that would nullify the bet. Right?
He thought so, and it showed how desperate he was, thinking about getting himself suspended just to avoid PE. And besides, now the doctor had an idea of what was wrong, maybe he could reverse it; in fact, maybe he could even give him something to bump him ahead. Or maybe the reversal itself would push him forward. Then he'd definitely have more hair than Zachary and could later rechallenge him.
And Vic, well, he could talk to his brother about Vic. They knew each other at the high school, and Ricky was well liked, so . . . . .
About that moment Will felt someone else sit next to him. It was Scott Hartley, the 13 and half year old blond skater in the eighth grade who lived two doors down. He was constantly in detention and in trouble for ditching school. The girls all swooned over both his good looks and bad good-boy personality. He had never sat next to Will before.
"What's up, man of the hour?" Scott said. Will hadn't even remembered seeing him at the bus stop. Of course, the older boy was probably off to the side on his lone; the normal contingent of little kids that wanted to bask in his forbidden half-spoken coolness were probably more interested in Will and Zachary that day.
Will didn't respond but looked down at the phone that Scott was holding up for him to see. Phones weren't allowed out on the bus, but the driver decided to pick his battles with Scott and usually said nothing. There was a text message on it.
"Scott, find my stupid brother, you'll know which one, and show him the next text I send you. Thx - Ricky."
Just then another text beeped in and Scott looked at it and laughed, and then held it up for Will to read.
"You stupid shit! Vic just told me. What the hell were you thinking? I can't protect you from this."
Will's spirits dropped. At least Vic's would be in private. Although Freddy would blab to everybody. Oh man - he felt so sick to his stomach.
"Dude, what is it, don't think you can win that bet?" Scott asked smiling, partly friendly, partly just amused.
Will just despondently shook his head no.
"Ah man, don't be like that. You never get air if you let the challenge beat you before you start. You don't know, you might can get it, and you'll never have a prob with Zach again after he's down on his knees doin' your deed at the bus stop. And he's gotta do Killian, too."
Will wished he could smile and hope that was true. But he took a deep breath and looked around, unbuttoning his pants as he did so. He pulled the zipper down and hooked his thumbs inside and pulled down the front of his briefs, which was a lot harder than he thought, given how tight they were.
Scott got a nice look at the bald pubic area, all the way down to half an inch of dick root showing and no hair at all down either side. Will was hoping that Scott also didn't catch the sudden twitch his dick made as it began to fill while he was sitting next to and exposing himself to this good looking 8th grade blond hot boy. (Will had never thought so, but in his heightened state of testosterone, he was more sensitive to theses things - perhaps a survival instinct in knowing who your competition was.)
Scott noticed, but didn't indicate it. He just whistled low. "Oh man, you're in deep shit. I never seen Zachary down there, but I've seen him without a shirt and I know he has hairs under his arms, and it's only gonna take one hair down there to beat you. Sorry dude, but it sucks to be you."
Will grimaced at the choice of Scott's last words, but what could he say? Before he knew it, the bus pulled up to the school and everyone got off. Henry had been avoiding his older brother, and Will saw him walk up to Coach Brown, the 7th grade coach (which meant Will's coach) and handed him two envelopes. Will wondered what that was about. But then he noticed Henry walk right past his own coach, that pervert Peterson, and ignore him, despite being cheerfully greeted.
Well, Will thought, at least he had been slightly successful in protecting his little brother, and he trudged off to first period like a man to the gallows. All through his first class, his mind was somewhere else. He even got a detention (again without knowing it) from his Math teacher for not paying attention. She let the detention stick this time, but eventually gave up on trying to engage him in class.
"Will, are you OK?" Justin leaned over and asked. Mrs. Young allowed it and just pretended it didn't happen because she too felt something was wrong with the boy.
But Will was thinking, in both fear - replaying the horror of what was to come, over and over in his mind, each time seeing it worse and worse - and desperation. The desperation part was trying to come up with as many scenarios as possible to get out of this deal. Of course the best one would have been just to tell an adult everything.. But he felt too far gone, too far sunk in, to even think of trying that. The irony though, of digging himself deeper, as he would soon enough realize, was that he would eventually be doing worse to himself than anything that would have happened to him if he had told. Of course the realization of the fact that he will have ended up torturing himself with no one else to blame would be the absolute worst. But for now:
"Will? Will? . . . . . . "Will, you're kinda freaking me out. Look . . . . um . . . . . I kinda know what deal you made this morning, and probably everybody will in PE. Do you think you can beat him?"
Somewhere Will registered the words of one of his oldest friends in his semi-catatonia and shook his head.
"Well . . . . . I'm really sorry . . . . . Zachary's an ass . . . . . but, uh . . . . . . you know we're still friends, right? No matter what? And if you wanna just fight him, I'll fight him with you."
Will was jarred back into reality. Justin's parents would absolutely freak out if their son ever got into trouble. They had high expectations. Very high. Of course, Justin never did really get into trouble, so his offer, which was genuine, was all the more meaningful. And it told Will something - he couldn't ask any of his friends for help.
"Thanks, Justin, but no. I'll figure it out."
"Eyes front and no talking Mr. Gant and Mr. Meyers."
"By the way," Justin whispered before leaning back to his own seat, "You got another detention a little while ago."
"Mr. Meyers . . . ."
"Yes, ma'am."
Shit. Another detention? What was he even doing? At this point he didn't even care. He certainly had bigger fish to avoid frying. He would have to take care of this on his own, and accept the consequences. But one consequence wouldn't be sucking Zachary Manning's dick.
By the time PE came around in second period, and it was a long wait given the length of the spilt-day class schedules, Will had made up his mind what to do. He would get into a major fight and either get suspended or banned from the lockers, which did happen on occasion. Either way he wouldn't be able to fulfill his part of the deal, and really that should release him from both Zachary and Vic's expectations. Then he could say something about remaking the deal later. By that time Doc Kincaid will have reversed the damage and maybe even propel him further forward like this current problem was taking him further back.
Yes. That was the answer. Fool proof and plausible. Now he just needed some body's butt to kick. Preferably someone he didn't like anyway. Too bad Peterson was out of the question. He'd like to kick that guy's butt. If he could have, that was. But who? Who would be the unlucky . . . . .
"Gant, or little Willie, wasn't it? Zachary tol-"
WHAM!!!Wow. That was an easy pick. Will's fist swung hard and connected with the side of Mark Young's face and sent the boy sprawling. Will never did like that kid, and before Mark could recover, Will was on him pummeling the shocked boy hard. Despite being a stronger kid, Mark was being battered senseless by the furious onslaught of Will's hormone driven rage and strength.
It took huge Coach Maguire to pull Will off the boy and hold him until the hormone frenzy wore itself out and his strength was exhausted. Maguire dumped him onto a bench away from the other stunned boys, most of which were still trickling in before the tardy bell rang. The lockers had emptied and there were a few boys in just their underwear and T-shirts and a couple that had just wrapped a towel around themselves to come out and see what the shouts of 'fight' had been about.
"I don't know WHAT your problem is, young man, or why you feel the need of late to get into these fights . . . . Bedwell! Sit DOWN! I didn't ask for your help over here; you too Meyers . . . . but you aren't leaving me with any options but to suspend you from this class!"
"Hey Tom," Coach Brown said as he came up to Maguire. Brown had opened the two envelopes and was coming forward with the contents.
"What's that you have there, Chuck?"
"Well one is just the doctor's excuse for Monday he was supposed to bring, but this other one may interest you."
"Let's see that," Coach Maguire said. He read through the letter and a smile grew on his face. "Well, well, Gant. Looks like this will be your lucky day. It appears you'll be able to dress out after all."
"WHAT??!!"This wasn't good. Why wasn't he being suspended?
"This is a letter of authorization for full corporal punishment as seen fit by the school within the prescribed rules of the school district for both William Carmichael Gant and one Henry Nolan Gant."
No this couldn't be true. No, no, no, no, no, no. His parents wouldn't do this would they? Will thought over his behaviour the last week, and yes, ok, maybe they would. By why Henry, too? Oh fuck Henry, Will had much more at stake here. This was horrible. Life changing absolutely horrible. It really absolutely could not get worse.
"Chuck, go fetch me the spring paddle with the air holes. Will, go bend over the coaches table and drop your pants and underwear, butt facing the rest of the class."
OK, It could get a little worse.
Will nervously walked over to the coaches' table, visibly shaking in his walk of shame before every boy in the PE class, from concerned Curtis and Justin, to vindicated Mark Young and jubilant Zachary Manning. Before he even made it to the table, he saw Coach Brown bring out the most feared paddle of all - Little Mike. Legend has it that it was named after the first kid who ever tested it out with his pale white boy bottom.
It wasn't the most scary looking paddle in the gruesome collection that hung on the wall behind Coach Maguire's desk, unless you were aware, by experience or report, of how each paddle worked.
Little Mike was designed for maximum velocity, as well as placing more of the inertia of the swing into the bottom of the boy being spanked, and less into the recoil against the hand and wrist of the spanker. It was also lighter and designed to deliver more of a sting with some deep penetration of pain, instead of just bruising the butt. It was fearsome and had reduced stronger boys than Will done to tears and blubber. Worst of all, Coach Maguire was stepping up to give the spanks. Even though he was the fairest and, in some ways most lenient, of all the coaches, his spanks were the hardest and most brutal.
"Come on, son, we don't have all day, and you still have to go in and dress out with the other boys; after, of course, you give Mark Young a heartfelt apology."
Will already wanted to cry and he was gently shaking his head no in a pleading manner even as he stepped up, quietly repeating a desperate manta, "Please coach, no, please, please, please, I can explain, please no . . . . "
But Maguire simply motioned for the boy to step up and put his back to the audience of his classmates. 19 7th grade boys and 20 6th grade boys (8th graders had a separate PE) watched as Will took his place and heard Coach Maguire tell him:
"Take down your pants and underwear, son."
"No, Coach, please . .. "
"You're authorized for full corporal punishment, Will, and in this school district for boys with your offense, that's a minimum of a bare butt spanking with a paddle. Now take them down; if I have to say it again, I'll add five more to your spanking."
Now will was crying, silently, for the most part, and still shaking his head no, but the fear of having even more strokes of the paddle than he was already getting put him in the motion of unbuttoning his pants, then pulling the zipper down and hooking his thumbs under the waistband of the underwear to take them down together with the pants. He would have prolonged it by taking off the pants first, and maybe even begging again, except he didn't want everyone to see him in his too-small underpants.
But it took some wriggling, and a few laughs from the audience to get them down. Coach Brown at first rebuked the boys for laughing, but Coach Maguire said no, let them laugh. It was part of Will's punishment, and the other boys could enjoy it as much as they wanted. "You can even clap and cheer, if you want," Maguire said. He knew the shame of what happened would last a whole lot longer than the significant pain he was about to put on the unblemished young white ass just coming into view. Together both the pain and humiliation might prevent the need from having to do this again, and that suited Maguire just fine. He got no satisfaction from the spankings.
The same couldn't be said for a number of the boys in the audience. Many were quite happy to have the chance to witness this, and quite a number of the boys in the gym gave out a loud cheer as the pants and underwear came all the way down and the unmarked buttcheeks came into view.
"Go ahead and take them all the way off. Fold them correctly and put them on the table. We're going to spread your legs out a little to get maximum coverage on your bottom.
"No, coach, please," Will cried.
"Do as I say, Gant," The Coach said, now removing himself from the first name familiarity he was having. "I'm already adding another five. Do you want five more?"
Will was still begging and protesting the added five, but at least he was careful in the process to remove his tangle of pants and underwear from his ankles. He kept his back to the boys, his pullover shirt and T-shirt only came down to the top of his dick in front, and he didn't want that in view in case Coach changed his mind. But that wasn't in Coach's plans.
"Now take off your shirt and T-shirt."
"But Coach!"
"The only butt I want is that lily white one I can see swelling out from under your shirt."
The boys burst out laughing as he said this, but he went on, "Now, I want an obstructed view of my target, and trust me, you will not be able to concentrate on holding the shirts up out of the way. Plus I want every boy here to get a really good look. They pull any crap like you did, then they'll know exactly what everyone else will see when it's their turn."
Coach then threatened Will with another five spanks and reminded him he had to get naked any way when he changed into his PE clothes. After he had his shirt and T-shirt folded and placed on top of his pants and underpants, he spread his legs as directed by the coach and bent over about 45 degrees, placing his hands flat on the other side of the table.
"I hope you get spanked at home, Gant, so that you are at least a little prepared with how much this hurts."
That wasn't what Will needed to here. He hadn't been spanked in forever.
Coach had moved completely to the side giving an unobstructed view to every other boy in the gymnasium of Will Gant's spread legs, with two white and hairless balls swinging between the inverted V of the legs and a slight part in the crack going up that just barely showed the plunge inward to his hole. He had not been naked before a group of people (not counting the ill-fated card game a week and a half ago) in a very long time, and never in so humiliating and exposed a position.
But he didn't have long to bask in utter shame and embarrassment.
"ffffffffWHHAACCKKKK"
"AAAAHHHHHGGHHHHHHHH!!!!!!" The boy screamed out with amazingly painful astonishment as the first blistering sting spread out across both rumps, followed by a sharp jolt of compression pain like being punched in both buttocks at the same time, with a spreading discomforting heat following rapidly afterward.
"That's one," Coach Maguire calmly said. "Now count them out. Say 'one,' Will."
"wh-wh-wh-onnnee." The answer came out in a sob, much of it due to pain, but still an enormous amount due to embarrassment.
"fffffffWHHHAAACCCKKK!!!!" Came a second and even harder stroke, and Will squeaked out a two, after a reminder and having to huff and puff some. His dropped testicles swinging back and forth from the jolt of the blow.
"FFFWWHHAAACKKK!!!!!!"Three came even harder, and four felt the hardest.
"FFFFWWWWWHHHHHAAACCCCKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"He was able to yell out "FOUR!!!" and "FIVE!!!!", though 'Five' came with a huge sob at the end, and "SiX!" was an effort to yell out. When it came to Seven's stroke, he couldn't yell anymore. Everyone else was captivated by the deepening red hue of his butt and the still free-swinging hairless scrotum like a metronome keeping the beat of the beating.
"OK," Coach Maguire said, "Then we'll repeat it, and class you start counting."
"fffffffWWHHHAAACCCKKK!!!!!" The shattering slap of pain across his tenderized melons came too soon to protest and the class cry went up "SEVEN!!" followed by cheers and various hoots and hollers as Will cried from the shock of how much the spanks hurt, both on initial contact and on immediately spreading throughout his whole back end, undulating and unremitting waves of pain and heat; and also knowing that his reddening bottom was on full display for the joy and enjoyment of a merciless crowd of not just fellow 7th graders, but 6th graders as well.
"FFFWWWHHAAACCCKKK!!!""EIGHT!!!"
What little energy that wasn't being shunted into twisting, screaming, crying, and shuddering from humiliation was causing the boy to cringe the moment he heard his only warning of iimpending and sudden blinding pain to his rumps - the sound of the aerodynamic paddle slicing through the air: "fffffffff--"
"-WHAACKKKuh."
"NINE!!!"This was a short smack, but delivered with an almost whip-like action that, while it had less of the aftereffect, produced the greatest intensity sting yet delivered.
"ffffffWHAACCKKuh"
"TEN!!"Another one, but this one with the most unmerciful combination of both the eighth and ninth spanks.
"Good job, boys! Will that's three you didn't count out that your classmates had to count for you. Therefore, the next time we start PE, you will receive and count out those three. Do you understand?"
Will was crying, burying his head into his arms and now even more bent over the table, but he still nodded his head. It didn't seem right. It wasn't fair to do that to him.
"And now, since you argued with me about taking off your clothes, you'll get the last five. Boys, these don't need to be counted out, but let it be a lesson to you all that it is always better to just do as you were asked the first time. Because in the end, you're going to do it anyway, and arguing will only hurt more in the end - specifically this end."
He patted Will's significantly reddened and striped bottom for emphasis, causing the boy to wince and start to cry afresh.
"WHHACCKK, WHHACCKK, WHHACCKK, WHHACCKK, WHHACCKK"The five strokes were delivered hard and fast, one rapidly replacing the other so that there was no downtime between each to fully appreciate the entire pain of a spnak, but cumulatively they delivered a building sting that near about drove Will crazy with the need to dance around and try to pull away; But with the table in front of him and Coach strong arm keeping him plastered to the table, there was no escape and no way to resist or pull away from the onslaught.
"There, now that's a well spanked bottom. You feel like you can be a nicer person and get along with your classmates now?"
The class erupted in cheers and spontaneous prolonged clapping.
Will was still sobbing but managed to get out a shamefaced "Yes, sir". He started to get up, he desperately needed to move around, needed to massage - but definitely not massage - that inflamed still-stinging butt of his. He hurt, and it hurt more just to stay there immobile. His body was twitching to move, but Coach pushed him back down and held him there.
"Not yet, Gant; I want every boy in here to get a really, really good look at your bottom. Any boy not looking will get the same as Mr. Gant."
That pretty much did it. No boy wanted the same that Will had just received. It looked perfectly horrible. Of course, they all forgot that without the parental permissions form, Coach couldn't give them the same. But honestly, no boy was considering that at that moment.
Some boys looked on in awe, some in terror. Some with an uncomfortable bulge in their shorts - some of these from the spanking, some from the unrestricted view of ass and the unbelievable encouragement to stare, some from both. Some smiled, some frowned, and more than a couple looked fairly smug. Biggest of these last few being Zachary.
Zachary's smugness came not only from the satisfaction of seeing Will Gant publicly whipped - and on the bare butt at that! How could it get better? - but also from what he saw of the boy's dangling nuts from behind. Zachary thought those nuts looked smaller than his own, but also pretty pale. Pale nuts meant unlikely to have hairs, at least that's what Doug Moran told him once, and his dad was a pediatrician.
(Come to think of it, Jason and Lyle both mentioned once that Doug talked about physical development of his and their bodies a lot. Hmm.)
Zachary was made even happier as the Coach made Will stand and put his hands behind his neck.
"Now, don't you dare move those hands until I say you can. Turn around and face the class."
The truly scary moment had arrived. Will looked stunned and even all the pain of the spanking did not diminish the instant of fear. Whatever color had not already drained down to his bottom now left him completely. Coach had to repeat it again, and Will closed his eyes and slowly turned around.
"No way!" Zachary yelled out, "He's bald as a baby!"
It wasn't just his hairless nuts and dick on view, but his underarms, his legs, his upper lip - there wasn't a hair to be seen.
"Zachary Manning!!" The Coach boomed out, "We will NOT tolerate bullying or disparaging remarks that have nothing to do with what is a perfectly natural stage of development. At your age, not everyone has pubic hair or underarm hair, yet. At least half of the 7th graders probably still do not. Those who do, it doesn't mean anything toward what you will look like in one year. Some of those without hair may even pass you up over the summer alone. Now you apologize to Will."
"But, Coach, he was bragging all this morning about how much hair he had and he was better than me, and on and on, and he doesn't even have hair."
Zachary was exaggerating; but when the Coach asked Will if it was true, the only response that the poor boy could muster after he finally opened his eyes at his full torment was to blush and to look down at the floor.
"Hmmph. Well, it appears you owe Mr. Manning an apology instead. Go on in the locker room and make your apology there."
If only the Coach knew just what kind of apology he had to make.
"And, Gant, before the end of the day, I expect a public and heartfelt apology toward Young. If he doesn't accept it, then we may have to revisit your problem with getting along." Coach Maguire walked away, letting a stunned and lost naked Will walk with his head down through a gauntlet of laughs and jeers.
Inside the 7th grade locker room it wasn't much better. Most of the kids wanted to avoid getting into any trouble themselves, seeing how Maguire was already primed, and they went straight to their lockers to start dressing out. Everyone else in the 7th grade had had a week and a half to adjust to the whole new PE policy of full nudity before PE (dressing out) and after (communal showers); but, despite already being naked, Will was having trouble.
Now, in an enclosed area, he felt even more exposed than before. He had no interest in the other boys stripping naked around him, but he felt uncomfortable, all the same. It only made it worse that he had forgotten that his PE clothes were with his bag that he had left outside, and most of the other boys were still casting glances and smiling or laughing, or worse, directly pointing and making jokes.
And it only got worse as his dick went from the quarter semi to a 3/4 semi as the other boys whispered, laughed and pointed.
"Will," Curtis asked quietly, as he came up to the boy - an action that strangely enough was the cause of going from a semi to a 3/4 semi. "Why aren't you getting dressed?"
"I don't have my clothes, Curtis, I forgot them outside. I can't go back out again like this." Will looked down at the relatively larger and reddish-brown dick of his friend, resting plump against his free hanging pecan size balls and topped by a small bush of redcurls, with a brown tone themselves showing up against his light, creamy pubic skin.
Will felt his breath change. He was breathing funny and had to turn slightly away before he got too embarrassed from looking. Despite Curtis' being younger than Will by 3 months, he was taller, stronger, and farther along into puberty than most of the other 7th grade boys.
"Don't worry, I'll get your clothes for you, Will. How's your . . . you know . . . "
"My butt? Hurts like bloody hell."
"Sorry. I wished it didn't." Curtis said and then smiled mischievously and leaned in and whispered, "it's my favorite part of you, you know."
Curtis backed away laughing, and Will shoved him off at the same time, rolling his eyes, though both boys realized in some part of their subconscious minds that there was at least some kernel of truth in there. "Go on, will you, and get my clothes."
"Hey, I'm not going out there naked anymore than you."
Curtis got dressed quickly, but was aware of an uneasy slowness with the rest of the boys. He knew why. His gut churned, but he didn't want to think about it. There was nothing he could do.
On the way out to fetch the clothes, Jamie Kostner grabbed Curtis' arm. Jamie was one of the bigger and more developed 7th graders. He came from a family of all boys, and they were known to back each other fiercely in a fight.
"Hey, Curtis, take your time getting his clothes."
Curtis looked back down the row of lockers at his friend Will, standing there naked and staring at a blank space on the wall, trying to fade into the lockers and trying to cup and hide his hairless genitals without actually appearing to try. Curtis felt that uneasiness in his gut sharpen, and he felt guilty; but he couldn't watch this.
"No one but Zachary, Jamie," Curtis said in a low and almost menacing voice.
Jamie looked around at the other boys; for an instant he almost looked regretful, but he smiled lightly and sincerely and said, "Fine, nobody but Zachary. You got my word. As long as Will keeps his."
Curtis left out, acting like a friend going to get the clothes, but feeling like a traitor.
Zachary had ignored Will so far, almost like he was deliberately not looking at or taunting the boy. This could have been some stage fright or first-timers anxiety, but only moments after Curtis left, Zachary looked up and nodded to some other boys; and Will noticed quite suddenly that there was now a wall of boys at either end of the wide row of lockers, blocking off an empty area in between that, just as suddenly, seemed to contain only himself and Zachary Manning.
Zachary had somehow only made it down to his shirt and boxers, the light blue thin cotton of which was being filled out and slightly lifted in front in the shape of a sausage with a barely discernable ridge suggesting the helmet of his penis. It was becoming more discernible by the moment.
"All right, Zachary, let's make it fair and see what you got." Tom Hildig called out. The dark haired boy was almost half a year older than Zachary and Will, and a fairly decent mediator at times. "Though from the looks of that snake trying to get out, you may have won this bet."
"You interested, Tom?" one of the other 7th grade boys said, taking a jibe at the older boy and getting a few laughs.
"Keep it up, Casey, you'll be on your knees with Will."
"OOOOhhhh . . . ." started in the crowd. Casey was in the same grade, but almost a year younger and definitely shorter and scrawnier than Tom Hildig, and he clammed up and slowly let someone else take his place in front nearest Will's bank of lockers, just in case Tom or some of the bigger goys got any ideas.
"Everybody hush up," Jamie called out. "This is between Zachary and Will only, but the deal was in the locker room, right Zachary?"
Zachary nodded, half delighted he could humiliate Will in front of all the boys, especially in front of the boys he would have to continue getting naked before every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday for the next three months or so of school; but half wishing that he had chosen something more private so that he could prolong and enjoy his own pleasure, as well as the private aspects of humiliation.
"Then we'll be the witnesses." Jamie continued, "I know Vic; I'll tell him what went down, pun intended. So get to it Zachary, prove your stuff, unless you want Will to win by default."
Zachary smiled a smile that was half grimace at the thought of an audience and half exultance at imminent defeat. He hooked his thumbs into his boxers and slid them down, over his fattening dick and off his ankles. Even Will was transfixed, forced somehow to watch as the instrument of a boy's ultimate demise came in to view. Forever he would be known as the boy who sucked dick in the locker room at Tucker Middle School. It would follow him perpetually, as long as he went to school and lived in this town. Nothing he could do would ever erase it.
Will's heart sank as he stared at the small but thick bush of long dark brown curly hairs at the base of Zachary's dick. He didn't have hair anywhere else, but he had it where it counted for the bet. And Will watched further, sickening at the thought, as he watched the dick, fatter than his own, but not really any longer, fill up the rest of the way and point directly at him, as though singling him out for an accusation.
Or a selection.
"Come on, Will," Jamie said, "We don't have all day. Coach will be in here soon, and then we'll all just make you do it again next time. So get on your knees."
"Yeah, Will, come take a long drink," Zachary taunted.
There was no where for Will to run or turn, the belief that everyone shared that he did 'owe' his debt to Zachary was obvious; either that or they were willing to gang up on the weakest link of the morning to see some abject humiliation (you really could go no lower as a boy). It was probably a matter of both, but all academic to Will, as he walked up to the neighbor bully and sank to his knees, both physically and emotionally.
He saw those hairs in close up, with the thick head of a boy's dick wavering just a quarter inch below his nose. He could smell it, but his defeated mind was absorbed by the hairs above the root if that pointed dick. His mouth fell open of it's own as he looked at the evidence for himself. He might have lost anyway, even with his hairs. What the hell was he thinking?
He didn't have a long time to contemplate this before he felt his mouth stuffed with a large fleshy, spongy mass that cleared his lips until they closed on something harder, round, thick, and also made of flesh. He instinctively realized that Zachary had pushed his dick down and inserted the head and first part of the shaft of his own accord into his mouth.
Will tried to pull back, but Zachary had run a hand through the hair at the back of his head and now had a tight grip and forced him back a ways forward.
"Easy, Zachary, he's supposed to do the blow job himself, let him do it. Besides when he's done he can't say he was forced."
"Yeah, that's right!" Zachary answered back happily; both statements leaving Will completely abashed. Even as Zachary let go of his head, Will was forced to swallow because of the accumulating saliva around the surprised entry of the head. As he did, Zachary exclaimed out loud, "Oh yeah! Now he's gettin' into it."
It only embarrassed Will, and he wanted to pull off and tell everyone that he wasn't 'into it' - not by any stretch of the imagination, but he sensed correctly that it was either do Zachary right, or do more than just Zachary. He swallowed again around the dickhead and first inch of shaft stretching his mouth open and seeming to swell even more as he unconsciously ran his tongue around the dick to get his gathering saliva down.
Zachary eased in and other inch of dick as he felt the oral muscles contract around his throbbing erection, and he realized that much more of even the static sensations around his penis and he would blow a load right there and then. Of course, just the thought of shooting his sperm and semen into the mouth of another boy got him harder. That the boy was Will Gant, who he would finally, and ultimately, dominate, right here in front of all the boys in their PE just made him hornier.
Neither boy knew it, but as Zachary slowly set up an in and out motion of rocking into the boy's mouth on this their first blow job, and with the kneeling boy just trying out the sucking action that gave cocksucking its name, both were having the exact same thought at the exact same time with two totally different feelings on the matter:
After Zachary got his jollies while thoroughly humiliating the boy in front of all his friends (with the rest of the school surely hearing all about it), Will would still have to swallow all the spunk as Zachary fed it into his mouth, and possibly down his throat the way the rocking was increasing in depth.
The disgusting thought made Will shiver, and the subtle movements were translated down the dick of Zachary, who moaned out again loudly how great a blow job the boy was giving him. To make things worse, despite being absolutely horribly embarrassed and filled with shame, it was still sex and Will's damn runaway testosterone was again betraying him as his dick lifted slowly off his naked, hairless nutsack and slowly came to about a 90% erection. It wasn't rock solid, but definitely enough to get noticed by the other boys.
And it was still leaking a little.
In fact, it was Tony Wainwright that first pointed it out to the others, "Hey guys! Gant's getting hard off sucking a boy's dick!!"
All the boy's laughed hard, and another boy pointed out, "Maybe it's not just because it's any boy, maybe it's because it's Zachary!"
"Yeah, Zachary," Bobby Lanton, a country boy if there ever was one, echoed, "Maybe that's why he's always trying to start a fight with you. He just likes you!"
Zachary blushed slightly at these comments, but he was increasingly being totally distracted by the feelings the boy was working on his dick. Will just turned red as a beet and even began to water his eyes, fighting back actual tears. The last thing he wanted the boys to see was him crying, again causing his own problems to worsen, as if he had just let them see that, then they certainly wouldn't have been able to spread it around that he liked it.
But instead, his redding and watery eyes was taken to mean something else.
"Hey, Zachary," bigger Jamie Kostner called to the boy who was on the verge of blowing everything down Will's throat, "Back off a little. I think you're choking him."
"Yeah, Zachary," Chris Kolbein threw in, "Back off. He'll have to learn how to deep throat you later."
Again all the boys laughed; but Zachary pulled out - just a little - and Will put his hand at the base of the dick as a forethought in preparedness so the more aggressive boy didn't just start ramming it down his throat as he started to cum.
There was that thought again, and again Will involuntarily shivered. And once again, Zachary felt that shiver travel up his own body and this time put him right on the precipice of an enormous orgasm. To bring it all the way home, he grabbed the boy's head again and began trying to face fuck him. Will was providing more resistance in order to slow the boy down in his mouth, but this had the unintended consequence of just making the excited and horned up boy want to jab it in harder and deeper.
Fortunately and unfortunately, simultaneously, for Will, Zachary was at the end of everything he could stand with all the soaking wet and suctioning feelings driving down the length of his shaft, and he spewed a tremendous load right over the same tongue that had swathed his dickhead in warm, wet strong caress. Will had no choice but to take in and swallow down the large, semi-salty liquid gift, as well as the second and third and fourth outpourings, though each load became gooeier and stringier as he tried to swallow down the successively smaller loads.
"Fuck!" Zachary finally uttered and released Will's head, falling back against his closed locker and sinking down to the bench where his pants and underwear had been earlier dropped. Will sat back on his haunches, thankful the dreadful experience was over, though he knew deeper inside that with this many witnesses that it would never be over. Never.
Boys would talk about this and ridicule him and point at him and laugh behind his back for years and years to come. Despite his up-pointing dick, he was depressed and unhappy - and angry at his own penis for betraying him and lying like it did. There was no way that what he had done was enjoyable in any sense of the word. If he could cut the traitor off without actually hurting himself, he would.
As it was, he just looked disgusted, and his face was matching his butt - red. Reddened and disgusted. He ignored the clapping, catcalls, and sardonic congratulations from the other boys and wiped his mouth of any remaining boy sperm with the back of his hand.
"Unh uh uh," Jamie Kostner warned. "You better swallow it all, Will, including that little bit on the back of your hand."
Will looked at the boy with defiance - and an intense hatred.
"Do it," Jamie warned him, "Lick it off and swallow it, or I swear I'll feed you some more."
"And we wont count the one you just gave Zachary as part of the debt payment," Chris Kolbein added, rather boldly. He was there anyway despite his close friend, and Will's childhood friend, Justin, asking him not to watch the degrading show.
Will gave one last stare of contempt, but he licked the semen traces off the back of his hand.
"Now lick your lips," Jamie smiled, almost evilly.
Will did as he was told, still sitting disgracefully on the floor, dripping precum from his accursed cock. He really needed to get that fluid to stop dripping - and the slowly hardening erection, as well; but unfortunately the only thing that worked so far was anal self stimulation. At least then, however, he would only be disgracing himself in front of himself. But how?
"All right, since you're up for putting on a show," began Jamie . . . .
"Knock it off, Jamie. That's enough! He did what he was supposed to." Curtis had come back into the locker room, after Donny Evers signaled him from the doorway. He pushed his way up to the front and attempted to stand down the bigger boy.
"Hey, I kept my word," Jamie said, still smiling and not really budging.
"Yeah, fine, you kept your word," Curtis answered back, "So did he. Now go on - all of you."
Curtis gave a specific glare for Chris Kolbein, who at least had the decency to duck his head in a little shame for enjoying the show, despite Justin's request, and the rest of the boys decided they weren't up to challenging Curtis - and running the risk of getting in trouble with coach.
Not that he needed any, but Jamie watched his support wither away as the rest of the boys drifted off back to getting dressed out for PE. Jamie kept smiling at Curtis, but nodded his head in acknowledging a win for Curtis - this time - and he too backed off. Curtis passed Will his clothes and ignored the boy as only a friend could, while Will dressed his shameful nakedness and Curtis glared at anyone with a quip on their lips, though he couldn't do anything about the victorious smile on Zachary's face.
PE passed the normal way for virtually everyone else for the next hour; but Will was still in agony, especially as the shower period drew near. He remembered the rest of the debt, and there wasn't much chance, he figured, of someone like Zachary forgetting it either.
But Zachary was nervous himself, thinking about the same promised event. Will still owed him one more blow job, and as much as he would thoroughly enjoy the added humiliation of another display of shaming the boy in front of his mates, there were a few cons.
For one, word might surely have spread to within the coaches' hearing by now, and he didn't want to get in trouble. Also, he would enjoy shaming Will back in their own neighborhood, as well as without an audience. That part made him uncomfortable as much as it made him happy. In the end, however, he had decided against it and was trying to figure out a way to get the debt reworked to something more private without actually losing the glorious opportunity.
He was lucky. Will was even more desperate.
"Hey, Zachary," Will asked, looking around nervously at anybody who might overhear. Worse luck: Mark Young, the boy that had got him in trouble to start with - if he conveniently ignored that he was looking for trouble anyway - sidled up to Zachary.
Zachary was about as annoyed as Will, but he couldn't afford to show it. "Well, spit it out little Willie; it's the only time you'll get to spit today."
Will flushed again and glanced angrily at Mark when he laughed at Zachary's joke. "I don't wanna talk to you, Mark."
"Tough shit, prick." Mark said, taking a step closer, forgetting how handily Will had beat the crap out of him. Will's public demotion had made him bolder. "Or, I should say, prick-sucker."
Zachary smiled, though he wasn't as stupid as Mark and still kept his distance.
"Anything you got to say, you can say in front of Mark. Oh look, Coach is getting up to blow the whistle - that means it's almost time for you to blow, too."
"He's gotta do it again? Oh shit! You're shittin'. Damn, Gant, sucks to be you. But then I guess you know that, since you're so good at it."
"You better shut up, Mark." But the sting in his butt was still too fresh to try another fight, even though he could again feel the testosterone raising, making him sweat with the urge to beat the stuffing out of something. Anything. "I'm talking to Zachary."
"There's the whistle," Zachary said, casually, though nervous inside and hoping the opportunity he thought was possibly coming really was. "If you want something, cocksucker, then say it."
"Yeah, cause Zachary's ready to spray it!!" Mark was cracking up at his own joke and didn't notice Will's fist tightening, but Zachary did.
"Come on, Mark, let's go on in. We'll tell everybody what's going down."
"Yeah, like Will is . . ."
"WAIT!" Will forgot his urge to pulverize Mark for a second in his panic to not have to fulfill the second part of the debt. "Don't make me do this, Zachary. Please. Not in front of everybody."
Zachary paused and let the moment's silence freak the scared boy a bit more. "The only way I could do that, Will, is if I got more out of it."
"Wha- . . . . What do you mean? . . . . you mean . . . . .? I can't do that."
"OK, fine, let's go Mark."
"No! Wait! Please."
"That mean you'll do it?"
"I . . . . I . . . can't . . . . please, Zachary."
The pleading was almost as bad as having to suck him, but then he thought about what it was like to have that cum shoot across his mouth and have to swallow it down while all those boys he knew in his own grade watching. No, no, the blow job was worse than any begging.
"Well, if you can't, then I guess I'll see you in the showers, unless you want to repeat it all tomorrow . . . . "
"All right. Fine."
"All right, what?"
"Two blow jobs, but not at school. OK?"
Zachary thought about it a second and nodded to himself, but he had some corollaries to add. "I get to pick the place in our neighborhood where you'll do it - and when you'll do it."
"Fine." Will said through gritted teeth, trying to control his rising anger.
"And, of course, Killian should get a turn with you, also."
Will didn't say anything. He just glared at the boy he hated above all others. But when Zachary bluffed and shrugged and turned to walk away, he knew he had hooked the boy's desperation.
"All right, OK? You and Killian."
"Two each?"
"Yeah. Good enough?"
"Whoa, not yet," Mark jumped in. "I get some of that too. After all, Coach said you better make nice to me, well enough for me to believe the 'apology'."
"Fine. Mark too, then. But nobody else."
Zacahary smiled another victorious look and held his hand out to shake. Will shook it, and, even more grudgingly, Mark's as well. It was at this point that Coach Maguire walked up.
"Does this mean you boys are making up, and all will be forgiven and everyone will act straight?"
Will grimaced involuntarily and the other two smiled at the word 'straight', but all three either mumbled or said 'yes,sir.'"
"Oh, and boys, I understand all about keeping and holding each other to the bets that you make, even when they are as STUPID as the one you boys made, at least as I understand it from overhearing a few of the louder boys, but if I catch either of you making or fulfilling a bet like that again, you will spend an entire week bent over in front of the class, with your butt beaten and on display to the whole class. And next I see you boys, we'll have the new X-40 paddle from Fisher Industries. Understand?"
The three abashed boys all nodded and suddenly wanted to be somewhere else. They didn't know what that paddle did, but the way that it was named and the fact that it was replacing 'Little Mike' made it sound scary. The coach dismissed them and they hurried on to the showers, though Will hung back and waited for the Coach to catch up.
"What is it Gant? Are you mad about the spanking?"
Will just shrugged his shoulders, surprised, in a way, that now that he thought about it, he really wasn't mad at Coach. "I guess not, Coach Maguire."
"Then why the look?"
"Uh . . . .it's about my brother . . . . can you really whip him, too?"
"I don't think that's your business, do you?"
Will didn't answer. He wasn't sure what was or wasn't his business, or even whether he should or should not be bothered. He just knew that he was.
"Is it bothering you that bad, son, or are you just wishing you could see it happen?"
Will smiled and admitted that it was maybe a little of both. "It's just . . . . well, . . . . . cant just ANY coach do it, can they? I mean, is there any way that you could change it so that only you could whip Henry?"
Coach stopped Will and looked quite serious. "Will, are you asking me this because I spank a lot harder than the other coaches, or do you have another reason?"
Will shivered once again, but this time as he remembered just how hard Coach Maguire spanked. "I don't think he would do anything to make you want to spank him, coach; I guess he's only really a pain at home."
"Hmmm. By that, are you implying that another coach might find a reason to spank Henry?"
But Will couldn't respond the way he wanted. He just looked down at his feet and shook his head and said, "No, sir. I guess not. I better go shower."
Tom Maguire watched the boy walk away and ran a few thoughts through his own head.
"Hey Tom, can I see that letter of the Gants about their two boys? Does it really say both Will AND Henry can be given corporal punishment?"
Coach Maguire looked up from his desk at Archie Peterson, the boys' 6th grade PE Coach and considered the unusual conversation he had had with Will Gant that morning. Wasn't his little brother Henry in the next class that afternoon? He regarded the other coach a moment longer before smiling and putting on his all-is-well face.
"No Archie; it was a mistake. The Gants called and apparently had never meant for Henry to be included on the letter. So no corporal punishment for Henry."
"Oh. OK."
Peterson looked almost disappointed. That was odd. Maguire had never figured the guy for a sadist. Maybe there was some other reason for it.
"Has Henry been acting up?"
"Oh, no. No, he's been good. But you never know. Boys will be boys. . . . Um, maybe we should call up the Gants and recommend-"
"No, Archie, I don't think we should. I've taken care of it. It's a closed matter, OK?"
"Oh, sure, of course. You know, only trying to think of what would be best for the boys in the end. But, uh . . . . you got it covered, I'm sure. Well, I, uh , I better go and get ready for the next class."
"You do that, Archie."
Maguire waited until Coach Peterson left and reached into his stack of papers for the day and took out the authorization letter for corporal punishment. He very carefully marked through Henry Gant's name and wrote 'per parents' on the side and initialed and dated it himself. It was a lie, but for some reason he just felt more comfortable this way. He photocopied it and sent the original on to the office for the school records.
Will was still giving some of his mental turmoil over to the thought of needing to get some more relief and what he could do to achieve it, when he walked past the towel pegs in the entrance to the showers.
"Hey, Curtis, you know where they get those?"
"The towel pegs? They're made here at the school - in Shop Class. Why, you need one for your bathroom?"
"Um . . . . . yeah. Yeah, I do."