My New Punishment Part 4
By Nocti Raven
nocti.raven@gmail.com
Copyright 2012 by Nocti Raven, 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.
* * * * *
Our parents
were away on business, so Jess and I were having a lazy Saturday
afternoon at
the house. Lazy for her, at least. For me it was pretty stressful. Jess
was
reading a book and simultaneously filing her fingernails. The nail
filing kept
both of her hands occupied, so I held the book for her. I suggested
that she
just tell me when to turn the page, but she’d pinched my cheek and
called me
uncreative. Her solution, she said, was much more fun.
She kept
her foot planted squarely on my crotch; when it was time to turn a
page, she
applied a little pressure to my balls with her toes. She didn’t press
too hard,
but it was a signal I couldn’t ignore.
How easy
would it be to just get up, put my clothes back on, and say “No more”?
Once
again I looked at my little sister’s slender leg, lean and fit, but not
exactly
muscular, and told myself that she could not overpower me. Sure, I was
a little
on the weak side for a 14-year-old boy, but I could easily overtake my
12-year-old sister. Without Ryan around, and without my parents . . .
Jess’s toes
flexed. I winced and turned the page of her book. Actually, holding the
book up
was starting to make my arms tired. Soon they’d hurt almost as much as
my
balls. This was unreasonable. This was just ridiculous. How could
anyone let
this happen?
Suddenly
Jess looked up at me over her book. “Whatcha thinkin’ about?”
I looked
down. It was better to look at her toes on my scrotum than into her
eyes.
“Nothing.”
She
giggled. “I’ll take your word for it.”
No, I
couldn’t possibly overpower her. I couldn’t even look her in the eye.
Once
again I told myself that there was only one way out of this: being a
good boy. Doing
what I was told. Following the rules. Sitting naked on the couch and
letting my
little sister squish my balls for fun. I really was too pathetic for it
to be
any other way. If I’d let myself get into this, I obviously didn’t have
what it
took to get out.
Suddenly
jess pressed down on me again. I didn’t think it had been long enough
for her
to have read a whole page, but I flipped it anyway. But she didn’t take
the
pressure off my balls. I felt muscles contracting all over the lower
half of me
as my body begged for escape. But I kept myself there, under her toes.
It would
only get worse if I pulled away.
But the
pain . . . so intense . . . there’s something profoundly horrible about
a
constant, light ball squeeze; it builds up to be even worse than a hard
quick
one.
“What do
you want?” I wheezed.
“This means
close the book,” she said.
I did, and
I immediately dropped it on the coffee table to relieve the building
pain in my
arms. Jess released my balls, but that pain lingered more insistently.
It was
neither nice nor reasonable of her to introduce a new phrase to this
code of
ball-squeezing without explaining it first, but it was no good telling
her
that. Better just learn it for next time.
Would there
be a next time? I really hoped Jess wasn’t planning on communicating
with me
entirely through ball squeezes. I don’t know if I could interpret a
more
complex code while dealing with the pain.
Mercifully
Jess crossed her legs, withdrawing her toes from my groin. I sighed
heavily.
My sister
looked very frustrated. Ryan was away with his new guy friends for the
weekend,
on a camping trip, I think, and Jess was very bored in his absence. I
think she
was more interested in
toe-squeezing
my testicles than in reading her book. I wondered why she didn’t just
hang out
with her girlfriends, and she seemed to be reading my mind.
“This
sucks. All my friends are hanging out with their boyfriends, and mine
is on
some stupid boys’ weekend.”
I cringed.
Ever since the beginning I’d feared this moment. Things weren’t going
her way,
and she had no one to take it out on but me. And my only hope for
eventual
freedom was to just lie there and take it. She was mad at her friends
for being
off with their guys, she was mad at Ryan for being off with his guys .
. . Why
didn’t I have guys to go off with? I had friends at school, but I just
felt
weird socializing now that Jess and Ryan had taken over my home life.
Actually,
my friends were probably wondering why I hadn’t been hanging out with
them
recently.
The answer,
of course, was that Jess would be mad at me if I went off with my
friends, just
like she’s mad at Ryan. He had the right to go out every now and then,
and all
she could do was get annoyed. But I was her property. I couldn’t go out
without
my dear sister’s permission . . . unless I was looking for a spanking
of truly
terrible proportion.
But what if
I got her permission? What if I asked her . . . and she said yes? Maybe
she
could use some alone time. She certainly hadn’t had much lately. And
maybe
she’d idly tortured me enough for one day. If that was true, if there
was even
the slightest chance that it was true, I needed to make her realize it
before
she started abusing me to get back at her friends and boyfriend for
abandoning
her.
“Uh, excuse
me,” I said. I’m not sure when, but somewhere along the line I’d lost
the
ability to address her by name.
She looked
at me with a surprised but patronizing smile, like she was looking at a
baby
who’d just said his first words. “Something you’d like to say?”
“Well, I .
. . I just haven’t spent time with my friends in a while. Do you think
maybe I
could . . .”
She hmmmed
emphatically and reclined on the couch’s armrest, extending her legs
into me so
I had to recline too. My stomach became a footrest for her. I noticed
that I
could see up into her little miniskirt from here, but she crossed her
legs at
the ankle before I could even tell what colour her panties were.
She was
looking up at the ceiling intently, clearly thinking. She unconsciously
pinched
my nipple between her big toe and second toe, and I resisted the urge
to squirm
away from that. That was so odd, how even after all this, I still had
the
instinct to shy away when they violated my personal space, to push
their hands
away when they reach for my balls. It was just getting slightly easier
to
resist that instinct. The humiliation was always there, too. Sitting
there
naked in front of my sister never got any easier; it was as
embarrassing now as
ever
“You know,”
she said suddenly, “I think this whole set-up has a big problem.”
My heart
was racing. A problem with the whole set-up? Was she about to change
it? Could
she actually end it?
“The
problem is that we’ve kept it all in the family.”
My heart
just about stopped, and then started racing even faster. Keeping it all
in the
family was the one thing I appreciated about all this. If that was a
problem .
. .
“You’re
clearly an irresponsible little boy, Jake, and you really do need
constant
supervision, either from Mom or Dad or one of your nice babysitters.
But Mom
and Dad have to work a lot, and me and Ryan both have our own friends,
and also
our time with each other. This has worked out pretty well for this past
month,
but I think you’re going to need some new babysitters going forward.”
Then my
heart definitely did stop for a second or two. “No,” I said. “Please.”
I
scrunched up my face as I held back tears. Retreating from Jessica’s
feet, I
rolled off the couch and got down on my knees. “Please,” I begged. “No
one
else.”
I just sat
there, hunched over, eyes clenched shut, for about thirty seconds. Then
I heard
a familiar sound: the sound of Jess’s palm clapping down on the skin of
her thigh.
She tapped it twice, and I knew what was coming. When I looked up she
was
already in position, her back straight and her thighs parallel to the
floor. She
patted her thigh again.
I
straightened up and wiped away a tear that had crept through my
wincing. It was
a pointless gesture, as Jess certainly knew. Seconds later I was over
her lap;
she flexed a thigh muscle against my dick, squishing it into my pelvis.
She
actually was quite fit; maybe I couldn’t overpower her after all.
The
spanking was as brutal as Jess could muster with her bare hand. It was
painful,
but I only cried a little. It really was the least of all the spankings
I could
get these days. Jess’s hand was nothing compared to Ryan’s, or to the
hairbrush
she sometimes used. I was sobbing, but I still had the strength to prop
myself
up when it was done. I got down on all fours because it was the only
comfortable position that kept my butt friction-free.
Jess seemed
to like that position; she knelt beside me and lightly grabbed the
scruff of my
neck like I was a dog.
“Jake, when
I decide something like that, you don’t get to say no. If you were
mature or
responsible or smart enough to make those decisions yourself, you
wouldn’t need
me here babysitting you.” She ran her hand down my back and onto my
butt,
stinging horribly. “But I guess I do my best thinking while I spank,
because I
had an excellent idea. We’re going to bring someone else into this.
You’re
getting another babysitter.”
I held in
yet another futile protest, but I couldn’t stop myself sobbing a little
harder.
“Oh, but
it’s not all bad! I shouldn’t be doing anything nice for you after your
little
show of disrespect, but I’m in a nice mood today. You’re going to be
spending
more time with your friends from now on, because one of them will join
our
babysitting team.”
I found the
strength to raise my head and look her in the eye, begging ‘no’ with my
tear-streaked facial expression. She just smiled.
“But it
gets even better for you. You know your friends a lot better than Ryan
and me,
so I’m going to let you choose which one it should be.”
My
shoulders began shaking; the fatigue of holding up that book was
returning to
my arms. I almost said ‘no’ again, but I channeled it into something
that would
offend her less.
“I . . . I
can’t.”
“Of course
you can. You’ve known those guys for years, and all you have to do is
say a
name. I’ll do the rest.” She got to her feet. I followed her up with my
eyes,
but when she was fully upright I just found myself looking up her
skirt. I
respectfully looked back down to the floor. “I know this is a big
decision,
Jakie, so I’m giving you one week to make your choice.”
I started
to crawl away so I could look up at her and reply, but she stuck her
toes in my
side and pushed until I fell over and rolled onto my back. Now I found
myself
looking right up into her face.
“But you’d
better have a name for me by next Saturday. If you don’t, I’ll choose
one of my
friends instead. And I’m guessing you’d rather be babysat by a guy who
likes
you than by some 12-year-old bitch who’ll probably let her boyfriend
fuck you
in the ass.” She gave a sinister little wink.
My eyes
widened. She knew. I was wrong about Ryan; I’d thought he’d keep it
between us
that he’d sodomized me. I thought he’d gone too far with that one, and
wouldn’t
tell Jess about it. But I guess it was like he said . . . just another
punishment. Jess probably didn’t even think of it as sex. More like
masturbation but not quite as pathetic.
Jess walked
away, and I lay there prone on the floor, afraid to move and chafe my
butt
against the carpet. I think Jess made
lunch or
something; she asked if I wanted any, but I was too caught up in my own
thoughts to answer. I was going through my friends, weighing the pros
and cons
of each, trying to guess which would make this hard and which would
make it
easy. I didn’t have that many friends, so it didn’t take long to go
through
them all over and over again.
Could I
trust any one of them not to tell the others?
Could I
trust any one of them not to take advantage, like Jess and Ryan did?
They were
my friends, but they could be jerks just like anyone else. Was any one
of them
mature enough to handle this responsibly and humanely?
My heart
skipped a beat. Mature? Yes, that was it. That was what it came down
to. I
needed a mature, responsible babysitter. A mature and responsible
babysitter
would be fair and just . . . he wouldn’t do what Jess and Ryan did. If
I could
choose wisely, and pick the most mature and sensible of my friends, not
only
could I avoid a lot of pain and humiliation, but I could bring it to
Jess and
Ryan as evidence. ‘He’s more mature than you are, and I was mature
enough to
recognize it!’ That was too good an argument for them to ignore. And
moreover,
I’d have an ally.
Yes, this
was good. As terrifying as it was to consider one of my friends knowing
about
all this, it could be the key to ending my humiliation once and for
all. Ryan
would be so furious when I finally managed to escape! He’d made me a
slave, and
Jess had just handed me the key to freedom. Maybe he’d get as angry at
her as
he did at me. Yeah, that was a nice thought: Jess getting punished like
she
punished me. I couldn’t think of any way for Ryan to get his
comeuppance, but
being out from under his thumb was good enough for me.
Pleasant as
those thoughts were, I knew I had to bury them. Jess and Ryan both had
a habit
of knowing what I was thinking like it was written all over my face,
and I
didn’t even want to think about what they’d do to me if they knew I was
considering this.
But, of
course, I did think about it, and the lifetime of spankings and ball
squeezes
that flashed before my eyes almost
made me
want to forget the whole thing. But I didn’t. I just kept telling
myself, ‘you
can be free.’
One thing
at a time, though. First I had to make a choice, and I had to make it
very,
very carefully.
***
I thought
about my decision constantly over the next twenty-four hours. I even
made
tables and charts on my computer, trying to add up all the pros and
cons of
each of my friends. I listed everything I could remember them doing
that was
mature or immature, that showed a sadistic streak or a sympathetic one.
But it was
tough, because I couldn’t save my work. If Jess or Ryan saw what I was
doing,
they might suspect my goal, so I had to delete it all in the evenings,
and
reconstruct it from memory in the morning. Everything on my computer
was an
open book to Ryan and Jess because of another development in my
punishment. Earlier
that week Ryan had decided I had too many basic freedoms, so he decided
to rob
me of my right to masturbate. In addition to removing the box of
tissues I kept
in my room, this meant he and Jess now regularly checked my computer
for any
traces of porn.
Not only
did they check my browsing history and search my hard drive, but they’d
taken
steps to make certain I couldn’t hide anything. Ryan had granted me my
wish for
password protection, but only he and Jess knew the password, so they
controlled
all my access to my computer. Moreover, he’d installed some second-rate
third
party browser that didn’t have a privacy mode and couldn’t delete its
history. And
I couldn’t install another browser without Ryan’s administrative
password. And
if I did web search for a solution to all this, it would show up in my
history
and my balls would suffer.
I could
still masturbate in the shower, of course, and in the bathrooms at
school, so
it wasn’t too big a problem. I just hated having restricted access to
my own
computer. Especially since Jess always made me log out when my curfew
hit,
which was at 10:30 on weekends.
So at 10:38
on Sunday night, I was lying awake in the dark, naked except for the
blanket. Ryan
had said he might come home that day, so I’d spent the whole day naked
just in
case. But neither he nor my parents had made an appearance. And I’d
managed to
get through the whole day without drawing my sister’s wrath.
I was going
over my friends for the billionth time. I’d finally managed to narrow
it down
just a little by eliminating Curtis. He was just too mean-spirited.
That left
three candidates, and I meant to have it down to two by Wednesday. With
luck,
seeing the guys at school would help me make my choice. Maybe I could
even ask
some covert questions to assess their maturity.
I was
trying to think of a casual way to ask whether my friend Sam believed
in
corporal punishment when I heard the front door open and close. Jess
didn’t go
out this late on school nights, so it had to be someone coming in. And
I only
heard one set of footsteps. Theoretically it could have been Mom or
Dad, since
their trips were separate, but they usually met up at the airport and
came home
together. That really just left one possibility.
The
footsteps seemed to travel down the front hall at an oddly irregular
pace, then
turned into a series of rising thuds as they began to climb the stairs.
Jess
usually met Ryan at the door, but I guess she was in her room listening
to
music so she didn’t hear. But the footsteps seemed to be going in the
wrong
direction. They were coming toward my room, when Jess’s was in the
opposite
direction.
And still
that odd irregular pace, like he was zigzagging down the hall instead
of
walking in a straight line.
My door
creaked open, and Ryan stood in the doorway, a demonic silhouette
against the
light from the hallway. He looked larger than life, and downright
menacing, but
it was unmistakably him. I squeezed my eyes shut. Maybe if he thought I
was
asleep, he’d leave me alone.
But he
didn’t. He started walking toward me, slow but with heavy footfalls. I
kept my
eyes shut, but as he got closer I could smell him. There was an
earthiness
around him; he’d definitely
come
straight from a camping trip. And he smelled like he was coated in
dried sweat,
overlain with a liberal layer of some deodorant body spray, like he was
trying
to cover the fact that he’d spent the last 72 hours hiking and climbing
and
mountain biking without a shower.
Then he was
right beside my bed, and I got a whiff of something else. It was
periodic,
coming with his heavy breathing. Beer, I realized, remembering all the
times
I’d smelled my dad’s. Ryan was drunk!
Then there
was the familiar sound of a zipper sliding open, and another smell:
that
different musty sweat that came out around the groin.
Something
soft touched my lips, and I knew what to do. Still doing my best to
pretend I
was asleep, I licked my lips, sliding my tongue along the underside of
his
dick’s head. I heard him grunt with pleasure, so dumb and animal-like
compared
to his normally sophisticated demeanor. I parted my lips a little, and
he
shoved himself in. He was still soft, but he seemed to fill my mouth.
I felt him
pull the covers down, exposing me from the shoulders up, and he tickled
me
under the chin with a couple of fingers. I knew what he wanted. I moved
my head
back and forth as much as I could without making it obvious that I
wasn’t just
sleep-sucking, and rubbed my tongue over the sensitive spots. I wanted
to make
him come as fast as I could. Then he’d lose interest and go away . . .
I hoped.
But he
didn’t come. Instead he withdrew his emasculatingly big member from my
mouth
not long after it reached its full stiffness.
“Thanks,”
he said, louder than he would have needed to, even if I was awake. “Now
I’m
ready for your sister.” He gave my cheek a painful pinch. “If you like
my dick
so much, come join us some time. I’ve got enough for both of you. Hell,
I’ll
fuck your whole family. They seem to like me enough.”
He did a
quick pelvic thrust, poking me in the eye with impressive accuracy.
Then he
left, fly still open, dick sticking straight out in front of him like a
jouster’s lance.
I wondered
how Jess would react to this. He certainly wasn’t his usual charismatic
self;
maybe she’d find this crass Ryan disgusting and turn him away. But no,
that was
so very wrong. It wasn’t even a minute before I heard her moaning with
pleasure
louder than ever before.
They kept
me up till 3:00 AM, so loud I could barely think about my problem. I
was very
tired the next morning.
***
To be
continued . . .
***
A note from
the author:
To anyone
who’s enjoyed this series of stories, I sincerely apologize for taking
so long
to add to it. Inspiration comes and goes, and sometimes life gets in
the way of
writing. But I’m back, and I hope to have more installations in the
not-too-distant future. (Same goes for other stories, by the way, but
this is
the one I’ve neglected the longest.)
Some
readers may remember that I submitted a different fourth chapter last
year,
which I asked Cassie to remove from the archive shortly thereafter.
Sadly I
went of half-cocked with that one. I sent it in without proofreading
it, and it
wasn’t until I saw it on the site that I realized it was badly written
and that
it took the plot in a direction I didn’t like. I thought that if that
was the
best I could come up with, this story might just be dead. Fortunately I
was
wrong about that. I just needed some time for inspiration to strike.
The
original chapter four introduced a new character, one of Jess’s
friends, and
she accomplished nothing because she was basically a clone of Jess, and
did
nothing Jess couldn’t have
done alone.
I reworked the “sister’s friend” character into Emily from “Emily’s
Gift” and
the girls from “Andy’s Difficult Weekend,” where it works much better.
Instead
I think one of Jake’s own friends will be better suited to the task of
breathing life back into MNP. He’ll be completely unlike Jess and Ryan;
better
for Jake in some ways, worse in several others. And, of course, now the
installments of MNP can come in four different flavors: Jess, Ryan,
Jess and
Ryan together, and Jake’s friend. And there can be some more drama down
the
line when the babysitters start butting heads.
But any
more than that would be telling.
Stay tuned,
Nocti