Spirited Intervention Part 1

Spirited Intervention Part I
by ThatStings

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

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This series will introduce readers to a cartoonish version of the Next Life that is strictly mine alone and does not correspond with any current religious training. Just sit back, relax and enjoy the story for what it is – erotic piffle.
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I: The Intruder

Brian Romano thought that he was king of his universe. Earlier that evening he'd gotten into a shouting match with his father about skipping school and the low-rent friends he hung out with. After two hours of this Brian had tired him out and his dad just told him to go to bed, which was where the 13-year-old wanted to be in the first place.

Brian was now lying in his bed with his iPod plugged into his ears as he basked in the afterglow of an especially good joint. He was feeling mellow. He rolled his head to the right and glanced at his prize: A guitar stolen from a local music store. The old man didn't even know it was here, he thought.

Grinning with self-satisfaction, he rolled his head to the left and checked to see if he had another joint. All gone. Then he rolled his head to the right again.

From just inches away, a boy's face grinned mischievously at him. The boy said "boo," and a badly startled Brian shifted sideways violently and fell off the bed, shouting "What the fuck?"

Trying to regain the upper hand as he struggled to his feet, he growled, "Who the fuck are you, you little fucker?" The other boy rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Three 'F' words in under a minute," he said. "That's not going to be good for you."

Brian looked the kid over. He was about his own age, maybe younger, dressed in shorts and a white T-shirt. His brown hair was shaggy and he had well-worn sneakers on his feet with the word 'KEDS" on them, and he sat cross-legged on Brian's bed. Brian suddenly realized that the intruder bore resemblance to himself. Coincidence, he thought.

Regaining his bravado, Brian said, "I said who are you?"

"Take a guess, Brian-boy," the kid said, his grin becoming even more mischievous. Brian was suddenly aware that he'd seen this kid before, but couldn't remember when or where.

"I don't play guessing games, shithead," he growled. The kid's smile became sad and he shook his head slowly. Brian pressed on: "Tell me who you are before I kill you."

The boy suddenly laughed loudly, rocking back on his butt and then righting himself. "Too late!" he said.

"THAT'S IT!" Brian launched himself at the boy – and found himself in a heap on the floor on the other side of the bed, the stranger grinning down at him.

"Okay," the boy said. "Now THAT was funny."

"How did you do that," Brian asked. He was aware that there was fear in his voice. The boy unfolded his legs and stood. Brian could see that the boy was a little shorter than he was and that his compact body was very fit; this kid could be real trouble.

"Watch carefully," the kid said. The older boy watched in growing amazement as the intruder reached out and his hand went through Brian's arm, leaving a slight tingling sensation behind. It took a while for Brian's brain to process what he saw; he came to the right answer. He stammered, "You mean you're a ... a..."

The boy grinned and said, "A g-g-g-ghost!" and then laughed himself silly as Brian tried to decide if he could run. He decided to try, clamoring to his feet and dashing for the door. However, his hand froze just an inch from the doorknob and no matter how he tried, Brian could not move his arm, or any other part of himself for that matter. He heard the boy say, "Come here, Brian," and he felt his body move against his will. He almost marched across the room and stood before the smaller boy, sweat beginning to form on his brow.

Brian soon discovered that he could still speak and wasted no time filling the air with colorful metaphors. The smaller boy stared at him placidly for a few moments and then held up his hand. Instantly Brian's voice was gone. Now true fear spread across his face.

"Y'know, Brian-boy," the intruder said, "Cursing bores me. I need some entertainment, and you're going to provide it. I think it's time for a wedgie." Brian didn't know what he meant, but he knew he wasn't going to like it. He suddenly bent over, sticking his bottom out in a comical fashion, and – in the dorkiest voice he ever heard – said, "Why, yes Sir, you're right! One wedgie coming up, Sir!"

With that Brian watched helplessly as his hands moved of their own volition to his bottom. They plunged into the back of his pants and felt around until they grasped the elastic on his underwear. With strength he never would have believed he had, Brian suddenly pulled his underwear up and into the crack of his ass.

"Here we are, Sir," he chirruped. "One super wedg – NNNNNAAAARRGH!!" Brian couldn't believe the pain he felt from this. He instantly thought of the younger boys he'd done this to in the past and wondered how they ever survived. He stood, still bent over and in pain with his underwear sticking out behind him like some ridiculous tail.

The smaller boy wasn't finished with him yet. He said, "Why don't you keep pulling until you rip your underwear clean off?"

"A wonderful idea, Sir!" Brian hated the stupid voice and what it was saying. He felt tears fill his eyes as his hands wrapped behind him and grabbed the elastic again. He needed three excruciating yanks before he stood before his young master holding out his ruined underwear as if it were a prize. Tears were running down the older boy's face. The younger boy approached the terrified Brian and took the underwear from him. As he tossed the ruined cloth away, he spoke gently to Brian for the first time: "Okay, Brian, here's how things are. I was sent here for the sole purpose of punishing you. My superiors have watched you and several other kids in the world with growing alarm and decided something drastic has to be done.

"The rules are simple: You will address me as `Sir' at all times unless told otherwise. The type and severity of your punishment is not negotiable. I dish it out, you take it – period! At first your punishment will happen no matter what. Later on, if my superiors think you are finally learning your lesson, you may be punished less frequently. Hopefully there will come a time when I can stop dealing with you and go home.

"Now understand this: My superiors will be giving me a very hard time whenever you slip up. I will happily pass that hard time on to you – doubled! Capisco?" Brian was surprised to hear a familiar Italian word come from this kid and thought it might be a clue to his identity.

"Finally, your body will be controlled by me when you're being punished. It will look like you're punishing and humiliating yourself, which should be very entertaining to anyone who witnesses your performance. Trust me, lots and lots of people will be watching your humiliation, especially at your school.

"Eventually I will expect you to follow orders without my controlling your body. When you do that consistently it will tell my superiors that your are learning and will soon be eligible for release. Until then it's going to be a hard time for both of us, but especially for you. Now we need to deal with your foul language. First, let's get you naked – you better get used to showing everything, buddy!"

Without a word, Brian quickly stripped naked and stood facing the door that led to his small bathroom. An object came flying out from his shower and hovered right in front of him. Brian began to cry when he saw it was his bar of soap.

"I see you know what's going to happen," the smaller boy said. "I'm giving you an opportunity you don't deserve – you can show my superiors that you really are capable of learning. I want you to take that soap and wash your mouth out with it. You know how to do it: your dad did it to you more than once. Every time your mouth fills with soapy liquid, you will swallow it and continue until I allow you to stop. Begin."

When Brian found he could move, he took the bar of soap in his hand and looked at it for a long time trying to decide if he should just submit. Suddenly he remembered that he used this soap to clean his butthole and he became enraged. "No fucking way!" he shouted as he threw it with all his strength directly at Sir's head. When he saw the soap stop in midair just inches from the boy's nose, Brian knew this was going to be bad for him. The smaller boy just sighed and said, "I should have known."

Against his will Brian's hands rose up and clasped themselves behind his head. He watched as his oak bath brush flew out of the bathroom and hovered before him. Suddenly he spun around and bent over, offering his upraised bottom to the brush. Meanwhile, the bar of soap had taken flight and found its target as Brian's mouth opened. The spanking started immediately.

The soap began to piston in and out of Brian's mouth as the bath brush alternately smacked first one cheek and then the other. Every fifth spank was a mighty wallop across both cheeks that cause Brian to swallow the foul soapy liquid that was building in his mouth. He was wriggling and trying to scream from around the intruder in his mouth, but with no success.

He glanced at his tormentor and saw that, instead of paying attention to the suffering boy, he was casually walking around the room looking at whatever Brian had collected there. The smaller boy then glanced at the stolen guitar and his face clouded in anger. He glared at Brian, and the ferocity of the miscreant's spanking increased.

Brian's entire world had telescoped down to his aching, abused ass and his mouth, which was beginning to foam from the soap moving back and forth over his tongue. He was crying freely now, occasionally emitting a high-pitched squeal, and that was when the spanking stopped. The bar of soap came out of his mouth trailing soapy saliva, and the sobbing boy was allowed to stand up straight.

"Tell me, Brian," the other boy said. "Still want to hurt me?" Brian shook his head rapidly, spraying soap all over.

"No, Sir!" he cried through the soapy taste in his mouth. "I'll never try that again! I learned my lesson, Sir!" The boy called "Sir" smirked.

"One lesson, at any rate," he said. "Now it's time for you to shower and get to bed."

Before he could react, Brian found him self force-marched into the small shower. The freezing water came on, making Brian squeal.

"Sorry, spanky," Sir said. "You have to earn warm water. Now it's time to clean you up."

Brian's mouth opened and the water shot in with great force to wash out the soap. As he watched, the soap and the brush came together to create a great deal of foam. The brush then began to roughly scrub every inch of the boy's body: Hair, arms, armpits, back and butt, chest and stomach, legs and feet, and finally, his scrotum. This is when he began crying louder.

A washcloth floated before his eyes and was soon covered in soap. Brian suddenly bent over and his hands flew back to his aching butt cheeks and pulled them apart. The washcloth worked its way into his anus and began sawing in and out rapidly. Brian was bawling, but stayed in position as the washcloth finished reaming him. It twisted in mid air and snapped Brian's ass twice, making him squeal. Then he was allowed to stand straight and rub his enflamed behind.

"Come here, Brian," Sir said. Brian jumped at the sound of his voice and scrambled to stand before the smaller boy. Sir then said, "Spread your legs wide." Brian complied and then groaned when he saw the bath brush floating between his legs, the spanking side aligned with his balls.

"Tell me about the guitar," Sir said. He was gratified to see the look of panic in the older boy's eyes.

"Uh, uh, Sir," Brian began. "It was ... a gift from my dad." Instantly Brian's world was filled with hot, blazing agony as the bath brush slammed into his precious jewels.

"NOOOOOO!" he cried. "AAAAH! MY BALLS! PLEASE! NO MORE!"

"That's up to you, Brian," Sir said. "Now tell me about the guitar." Brian composed himself as best he could, his eyes darting from the waiting brush and back to Sir.

"I stole it, Sir," he said, crying openly. "I'm sorry, sooo sorry, Sir, please forgive me..."

The smaller boy simply held up his hand and said "Ssssh! Quiet. What you did just now is called `telling the truth'. If you always tell the truth – to me or to anyone else – your life will be easier. Do you understand?" Brian nodded his head, and Sir said, "Good. Get to bed."

The bigger boy nearly fell over himself to obey the order. Just as he got to the bed he saw the cover, sheets and pillow suddenly disappear. He didn't hesitate – he jumped onto the mattress and lay on his side. With Sir's urging Brian fell asleep quickly. The smaller boy looked at his red, swollen ass and balls and chuckled.

A noise from outside drew his attention and he looked out the window. He saq a naked teenage boy standing with his hands on the back of his head and his nose against a tree. His ass was shining red from a recent spanking, and a younger boy (probably his kid brother) sitting cross-legged on the lawn before him holding a hairbrush, just waiting for big brother to move.

There was a pretty, naked teenage girl on a lawn across the street with her hands clasped behind her head as she marched in place. She lifted her legs high enough to almost touch her breasts and her little sister swatted her behind with a paddle in time with her steps. With each swat the teen cried out, "Thank you, ma'am ... thank you, ma'am ... thank you, ma'am ..."

Even further up a young boy held a leash attached to his older brother's balls as he walked up and down the street. The naked boy's hands were, like the others, clasped behind his head and he followed behind his brother like a docile pet. When the pair turned away from him, Sir could see that a gleaming butt plug parted the teen's red and swollen ass cheeks: His tail.

Sir looked at the butt plug and then at Brian's abused ass and smiled. With a small gesture, all the bruising and swelling on Brian's body faded away, offering a fresh playing field.

Sir then walked toward a wall and passed through it. A second later the light in Brian's room went out.

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