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Subject: Maybe Next Time 7 This story includes *BULLYING* and *ABUSIVE SEX* between male teens and between teens and adult males, many of them related. Go away if any of that is against your local rules. See original story (fty//gay/authoritarian/maybe-next-time/) for warnings and copyright. Highlights: All fiction. All rights reserved. Practice safer sex than my characters. Write if you like, but flamers end up in the nasty bits of future stories. Donate to Nifty TODAY at donate./donate.html to keep the cum coming. You should also set up AMAZON SMILE so that your purchases on Amazon earn contributions to Nifty! It’s a great, zero-cost way to enhance the support you already give them. ***** “Actually, Kyle, I’m afraid he does.” Both of us went stock-still, horrified beyond words. Gary just smiled. “You see, unlike the police, I have access to *everything* my brother ever recorded. I think Tyler more than deserves a long stint in chastity. Quinten, take young Tyler up to his cell while I get dear, sweet little Kyle… settled, mmm?” ***** Maybe Next Time 7: Teaching Kyle About Life By Bear Pup ***** “NO! NO! You can’t! Please!” I was screaming as Tyler wept, his ruinous sobs echoing in the large room. The idea that he would be kept in chastity, his cock continuing to be locked away, devastated us both. “Shh, Kyle. Hush, baby.” Gary’s deep and soothing voice came to me as he gathered me in his fuzzy arms. “It’s okay. Quinten won’t hurt Tyler, not unless I tell him it’s needful. He’ll treat him very, very well. Far better than Perry ever did. I’ve fostered a lot of boys, Kyle, and some need more discipline. Some, like you, just need someone to really cherish them.” He picked me up in his teddy-bear arms and carried me into another room. The best word for the space just had too many ‘right’ connotations. It was a den, as in a place where men relaxed. The walls, floor and ceiling were deep, polished wood. Rugs of deep, sumptuous green spotted the floor. A bar stood to one side and big leather chairs and broad benches surrounded the low, square, open-pit fireplace with its huge, black vent-hood. It also felt very much like a bear’s den for a teddy-bear brought to life, the ceiling low and the space a little crowded. There was even a shadowbox on one wall containing about twenty jars and pots of honey. The last meaning of ‘den’, though, was from something we’d read recently at school: Den of Iniquity. Each wall had beautifully-done paintings of outdoor scenes in which men (always youthful, smooth and pale men were matched with one or more mature, hairy ones) were engaged in sexual exploits. Some were simple satyr-faun settings while the other extreme saw three men using a boy tied to a tree. Each wall had a shadowbox. The one with honeys described above was matched with one containing dildos, another with chastity devices and a third with implements that I could not understand but whose very demeanor made me shudder in fear. Gary settled into a huge leather chair that was nearly large enough to be a loveseat. He said “Jeeves, make us comfortable,” and the lights dimmed and the fire blazed to life. Soft, gentle music rich with drums and plucked-string instruments became barely audible. The temperature dropped enough that the warmth of the fire and the heat of Gary’s body were welcome and comforting. “Yes, sir.” The voice was cultured, rich and vaguely-British. “Is this to your liking?” “Thank you, Jeeves.” My uncle registered my surprise. “It’s called domotics, or now just home-automation or ‘the smart home’. Jeeves is a very sophisticated construct — a computer program. It’s how I made the money for what you see. The patents I have from various things I’ve built into Jeeves are licensed by everyone from Amazon to Hasbro. Quite a few were purchased by the US Government, actually. For example, keeping track of a person through visual recognition. I’ll show you. Jeeves, show me my brother, Perry Volker, please.” The side of the vent hood just above us came to life with a stylized ‘J’ spinning slowly; it was a flat-screen TV. The image resolved into a stark, low-quality feed. Anyone who’d ever seen a show with a ‘C’ an ‘S’ and an ‘I’ in the title could recognize a security feed. It was a jail cell with a single occupant. Pop was huddled into a corner on a steel bench or bunk. I couldn’t make out any real detail, but it was clear he was sobbing and wedging himself as tightly into the corner as possible, as if he could collapse himself. “Here is your brother at present, sir.” “Ah, how disappointing,” Gary sighed, “I’d hoped from something more appropriate. Jeeves, play three-minute clip from when my brother was searched by Officer Jackson, please.” “Of course, sir.” A different, smaller room appeared with better resolution. Pop was ushered into the room, hands cuffed behind him, by an enormous, bald, black man in a jailor’s uniform. The man’s voice was a deep, penetrating growl, suffused with contempt and disgust as he told my father, “Per section 28, all prisoners must be searched for weapons and contraband.” The man was putting rubber gloves over his enormous hands as Pop watched in fascinated horror. “Due to current budget constraints, we have an official exemption from the search-witness clause that should mean we have an audience. So, sunshine, you get… me.” His smile seemed to strike Pop like a physical blow. The officer did something with the shirt of the jail clothes that made Pop yelp, then groan. His cuffed hands were now all the way up at the nape of his neck and the shirt seemed to tie them around his throat and pull his head back at the same time. The guard then plunged his fingers into Pop’s mouth and probed around, getting a number of whines and gaziantep escort grunts as he manhandled Pop’s tongue. In a very… satisfied but calm voice, the guard said, “We need to be sure there is nothing in your esophagus or larynx, sir. Please relax.” He jammed a couple fingers down Pop’s throat, and smiled widely as my dad’s eyes went wide and he started to gag and choke. Over my father’s noises, the guard continued. “I have an uncle, Jamal Watkins.” The simple statement had an immediate and shocking effect on Pops who went rigid then tried to talk around the long thick fingers. The guard reached down with his other hand and unlaced the tie that held Pop’s pants up. “He lived in the Timber Ridge mobile home park off Taft Hill. You know it?” Pop was desperately trying to speak, but the guard pushed a third finger into his throat and Pop gurgled and choked as if puking. “I found out that, when Jamal was twelve, a local bully…” Pop screamed around the choking digits as the guard’s gloved but unlubed middle finger rammed up into his ass. “Sorry. Forgot to mention. We have to search your rectum. Prisoners often smuggle drugs into the jail that way. Now, where was I? Oh, yeah. When Jamal was twelve, a sixteen-year old — he made my uncle call him Master Perry — forced the boy to suck him off, then took pictures.” The guard added another finger and started twisting it in Pop’s ass as Pop writhed in pain. “He said he’d make copies of the picture and tell everyone at school he had a… let’s see, a Pickaninny Cocksucker–” Another huge finger invade Pop’s ass brutally. “–unless Jamal begged Master Perry to fuck the little boy’s virgin asshole. Master Perry then made a video of that event and turned my uncle into his bitch.” The guard began a pitiless plundering of ass and throat over the increasingly-desperate sounds of my father. “I found all that out when Jamal started fucking me when I was fourteen, explaining how lucky I was not to have a *real* predator destroy my life, just a loving uncle who would make my ass his pussy and never *really* hurt me.” He pulled both hands out of my wailing father’s holes and used a near-roundhouse open slap that spun Pops all the way around and onto to floor, half-unconscious. The guard knelt, pulled my father’s red, puffy face up and plunged the ass-hand deep into Pop’s mouth and throat, coating the whole area with my father’s own ass-juice. “Welcome to hell, Master Bitch.” “Would sir like me to replay another of the–” “No thank you, Jeeves. That will be all. “You see, Kyle, there really is justice. Perry has been a monster since he was a small child. In the whole neighborhood, I was probably the only one to escape him, and only because I was smarter than he was and turned his own tools against him.” I was still in shock from the video and staring at the place the monitor had been but that now looked like nothing more than a soot-blackened panel of the fireplace flue. I finally turned and he continued, in a soft and worried voice. “In fact, finding ways that Jeeves could enslave his computer and penetrate his secure cloud got me fourteen patents in the last four years. As soon as I succeeded in getting into my brother’s video cache and saw the horrors to which he was subjecting you both, I had to stop him. And that he’d turned your brother into a carbon-copy predator just broke my heart, Kyle.” “No! No! Tyler is not like that. He’s not. Pop did terr–” “Kyle, honey. It’s okay. I know how Tyler used your innocent curiosity and desperate need for at least some kindness from a big brother to do terrible things. What Perry had done to him was unthinkable, but it doesn’t excuse his attempt to make you a slave! You’ve got to see that, son.” I wanted to protest but Gary plowed onwards. “Sure, Perry is a true monster from the worst kind of nightmares, but being *slightly-less* monstrous does not make Tyler innocent, son. And look at the difference between what your brother did, trying to get you abused even worst just out of spite, and your attempt to get Tyler *out* of punishment he so richly deserved! You are a good kid, Kyle; you are the good brother.” “But Tyler is GOOD, G-G– Uncle Gary. He really is. He wants to be. I know he does! We talked when Pop couldn’t hear us and he really, really wants to be a good person. Please let him try! Please?” “Hmm.” Gary’s voice was thoughtful but also seemed disappointed. “I’ll make a deal with you. Today is Monday. If you still think so on Thursday, I will make *you* his keyholder. You get to decide when he’s earned time outside the cage. I’ll set limits until I’m satisfied that he’s not simply a younger Perry, but I’ll give you control. How does that sound?” I threw my arms around my newly-found uncle and hugged him. “Thank you! Thank you, Uncle Gary!” “About that. I never liked that name. Gary. It was picked by our father who was… not a nice man. Just call me sir, like Jeeves and Quinten do, or Mister V if it might cause confusion. You should call Quinten either sir or Mister Q. Okay, son?” I nodded. He was so kind and gentle and his voice so deep and soothing. “Yes, sir. Thank you.” I snuggled deeper against him and he sighed contentedly. “So, Kyle, I know that a lot of what my brother did was horrible for you.” I sniffled and nodded. “But I can see from the video that some of it, well, some of it you really loved.” “NO! No, Unc– sir!” He smiled and ruffled my hair playfully. “I know that you *think* his smell disgusted you, but you boned up. And you actually whimpered at the smell from Tyler’s crotch. You hate humiliating Tyler but love his blow-jobs. You like being touched–” His hands were suddenly teasing my nipples, then the folds at the bottom of suriyeli escort my ass-cheeks, then stroking my belly and I couldn’t contain a moan. “–and nuzzled.” His mouth now teased the shell of my ear and his tongue caressed down to my neck and my body stretched to maximize the sensation. “So, what we’ll do, honey, is find out what you actually like so we, all of us, can celebrate your body. Make you squirm and moan and laugh and cum so hard you’ll think your balls are going to explode!” He laughed as he started to tickle my balls. I felt my cock start to leak. “Are y-y-y-y-y-y-you gonna do that for T-T-T-T-T-Tyler, too, um, sir?” His hands paused for a moment and I felt a wave of annoyance pass through him before he relaxed. With what seemed a fake smile in his voice, “If that would make you happy, Kyle, definitely. We’ll find out just what pushes Tyler’s buttons, too. Then, when you’re both ready, we can ALL play. How does that sound, baby?” I snuggled deeper. It sounded wonderful. Maybe I could start to undo the damage that Pop had done to my brother. “So, let’s start with stuff my evil fuck of a brother never bothered with.” What? Start? NOW? He rolled forward with me in his arms and laid me on what looked for the world like a solid wooden bench. What seemed to be polished wood was, in fact, the softest cloth I’d ever felt, patterned to look like wood-grain. Then… he kissed me. Really kissed me. When my brother had kissed me, there was tenderness and passion, but my uncle had skills. He teased my lips open with his tongue and it darted in and out of my mouth, taunting my own tongue to come out and play. I couldn’t help it, I moaned. Gary pulled back and smiled as he looked deep in my eyes. “I like making you moan, Kyle. It means I’m doing my job.” He went back to it and I felt his hands on me, caressing my sides or holding my neck or softly stroking my cheek and jaw. It was like I was melting, flowing into the bench, completely absorbed by my uncle’s kiss. All too soon, he moved from my mouth and began to kiss and lick my ears. I squeaked and moaned some more and I could feel his wide smile. His trimmed beard tickled my neck and I giggled, then gasped as his tongue followed it licking down and along as I stretched again. Gary switched sides and I whimpered with need and desire, feeling my cock harden and start leaking. Gary held my arms above me and kissed me again and I luxuriated in the sensation, but nearly exploded in an ecstatic groan as he started to tease and nip and lick my armpits. There was very little hair there, but I discovered they were exquisitely sensitive. My uncle, to put it simply, made love to my underarms until I was squirming and moaning non-stop. “You see, Kyle? There is so much your body craves and needs. My demonic fiend of a brother couldn’t be bothered because, as any true psychopath, he quite-literally *couldn’t* care what you did and didn’t like. But you see how lucky you are to have been rescued by someone who wants you to enjoy this?” I moaned again then yelped, arcing my back high as his lips came in contact with my left tit. I let out a keening sound that seemed to excite my uncle beyond endurance and he ravished both nipples, nearly making me blow just from that. The feeling was so utterly unexpected and so all-encompassing. My entire body hardened along with the tiny nipples. My voice went higher each time he switched from one to the other and I pushed my body as forcefully as I could to maximize the pressure he exerted. When he started to *gnaw*, I quickly approach a point of no return. Gary felt my cock spasming in pre-orgasmic bliss and pulled back completely. “No, Kyle.” His voice was gentle, sweet and firm. “Sweetheart, you don’t cum until I tell you that you can. You understand me, don’t you, Kyle?” No, I didn’t fucking understand him. I’m not even sure I knew what words were in that moment and even if I had, I could not have comprehended the idea that I had some sort of control over when my body decided to erupt. But I’d have nodded to anything to get those lips back on my body. He licked his way down the center of my body then, stopping to probe my bellybutton which sent me into a fit of giggles. My breath shortened as I realized he was about to lick my cock. I knew I’d lose it instantly. I let out a loud, shocked grunt as he flipped my body and started to lick the nape of my neck and down my spine, sending delicious shivers through me. Nothing prepared me for when he got to the globes of my ass. My newly-discovered uncle showed me places on my body I’d never imagined. One of the strongest was the flesh at the fold below my pert round butt-cheeks where they met the leg. I whined and hunched when he got there, desperate to ejaculate. “I told you,” his voice was both teasing and stern, “you do NOT cum until I give permission, Kyle.” His strong hands gripped my hips and pulled me up, giving my cock nothing to rub against. I erupted in a completely different whine at the loss of contact then screamed outright as Gary’s tongue touched my actual ass-lip. The thought at once disgusted and enflamed me. The sensation was like nothing my body had ever known. When he realized just how ecstatic my response was, my uncle went bonkers on my asshole, licking, probing, tickling, nipping even nibbling on the tender flesh. I looked over my shoulder and started to shout, “U-U-U-U-Uncle! S-S-S-S-SIR! I’m gonna. You’re gonna. I’m gonna–!” He pulled back and I saw his bright-red face covered in spit and ass-slime, a fierce and predatory smile on his face. His voice was nothing but stern, commanding and emphatic as he instructed me, “NO! I told you that you will NOT ejaculate. Not until rus escort I say so and we have a long way to go, Kyle. Don’t you dare let yourself reach orgasm before I give permission!” “B-B-B-B-But, but, but I can’t s-s-s-s-stop it!” “Of course you can. Don’t be a baby. It’s your body. Do. Not. Cum!” With that he buried his face back in my ass and, if anything, redoubled his efforts. “N-N-N-N-N-N-NO! No! NO!” At that moment, his teeth nibbled at a newly-exposed fold of flesh and I howled as my cock simply erupted and cum began to fly everywhere. I was crying and wailing and hunching as my orgasm overwhelmed me. Face buried in my hands on the upholstered bench, I babbled apologies mixed with the tears and sobs as I came down from the most intense explosion of my young life. Gary pulled me into him and then sat in the enormous leather chair where we’d started. He petted me as I wept and rocked me and I caught my breath. When I finally quieted, he spoke softly, voice no longer the kind and solicitous man, but instead dripping with displeasure and a bit of anger. “Kyle, I am incredibly disappointed in you. I gave you one and only one order, Kyle, and that was not to cum. SHUT UP!” His roar cut across and silenced my nascent excuses. My eyes were wide. “You *will* obey me, Kyle. Just because I am not the monster that Perry is does not exempt you from simple obedience. When you disobey, you hurt everyone in the family, Kyle, everyone, including me. You had eleven contractions, only the first half-dozen or so with ejaculate. You will be punished for each of them, wet or not. Stand up. Follow me.” Mortified, frankly terrified, I followed as he marched out of the den and up the wide, staggered-log staircase. Without knocking, he strode through a door into a small bedroom, bare of anything except a desk, a chair and a twin bed. My brother was staring, naked of course, out a large window at the beautiful landscape of mountains but spun toward us when the door opened. Tyler’s eyes flew wide as Gary stormed in. Our uncle pulled what was obviously a paddle from a hook on the wall, a larger, heavier version of a ping-pong paddle with the rubber nubs on the face. “Tyler, your brother Kyle has disobeyed me and must be taught that it is not acceptable. Disobedience hurts the entire family.” Oh, fuck, I thought in panic, eyeing the paddle in terror. The man who had been so nice was going to humiliate me, spanking me like an infant in front of Tyler! I blushed as fresh tears started to stream down my face. I was shocked senseless when Gary thrust the paddle into my hand and grabbed my brother, dragging him across his lap. “For every ejaculation, you will give your brother one hard swat. If even one of them is not hard enough, you will start over. KYLE,” he roared, making me jump and shocking me out of my immobility, “START NOW!” “Sir! No. Please! Tyler didn’t do it! Punish me, not him.” “Kyle, this IS your punishment. When you screw up, it hurts everyone in the family. If I spanked you, you’d think it was only you who was hurt by your disobedience.” He grabbed my arm and hauled me to face him. “I will count to five. If you haven’t started by five, I will add one stroke for every second you delay. One. Two. Three–” I pulled back and popped Tyler’s ass. He yelped. “No, son, that’s not nearly hard enough. Again.” I did it harder and Tyler bucked a little and yelped again. “No, again.” Weeping, I pulled well back and slammed the paddle into my brother’s butt. This time, Tyler screeched. “That’s one. The next had better be harder or we start over.” It was, and Tyler’s ass already started to redden. Gary kept count. After the fourth, it got so much worse as Tyler’s screaming turned to pleas. “NO! Kyle, please! Stop! Why are you doing this? Please! You’re hurting me, Kyle! PLEASE!” His begging tone hit my gut like a fist and my stroke was weak. Gary sighed deeply. “No, Kyle. Now you have to start over at one. You have to learn your lesson, Kyle. Start again.” The horror of what I was doing crushed me as I started again to wail on my brother’s tender, reddened ass. His screams of, “Why?” and, “Please!” and, “NO!” and, worst of all, “KYLE!!” shredded my soul. When I finished, I literally collapsed in a heap of blubbering boy-flesh as Tyler sobbed and howled in pain and humiliation. Gary picked Tyler up and laid him very gently, face down, on the bed. He bent forward and kissed Tyler on the back of his neck. His voice was kind and sorrowful and loving as he murmured, “I’m so sorry, son, that Kyle disobeyed and that you suffered for his choices. It’s a terrible thing to disobey, Tyler, and you took it like a champ.” He turned to me, his voice disappointed and deeply sad. “You *have* learned your lesson, haven’t you? We won’t be having any more such episodes, right?” I nodded, horrified and shaking, physically ill. “Good, let’s get you cleaned up, son, and ready for dinner. Tyler, Quinten will be by in a bit to apply some salve and get you ready as well. I’m sorry that your first day home included this little incident. But at least you’re away from the satanic horror that is my brother.” Special thanks to Beta Readers who spent their time looking for my fuckups: Jack and Lee are truly sensational. If you want news on new stories and chapters, please join my Google Group at https://groups.google/d/forum/bear-pup-news If you want to give me ANY feedback that could make me a better author, e-mail me at orson.cadell@ Now on Tumblr: Bear Pup — Beyond Nifty blr/ Active storelines, all at fty//gay… Canvas Hell: 36 chapters …/camping/canvas-hell/ Beaux Thibodaux: 27 chapters …/adult-youth/beaux-thibodaux/ The Heathens: 29 chapters …/historical/the-heathens/ Culberhouse Rules: 13 chapters …/incest/culberhouse-rules/ Raven’s Claw: 11 chapters …/authoritarian/ravens-claw/ Ashes & Dust: 7 chapters …/rural/ashes-and-dust/ Maybe Next Time: 7 chapters …/authoritarian/maybe-next-time/ Irma’s Boys: 1 chapter …/adult-friends/irmas-boys/
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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