Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.spanking
>>>> Dedicated to: TIME magazine <<<<**
"Buttslapper2: They Call Me BIG RED" A touching melodrama for prime-time television (of the future)
Version 1: 3/93 -released as "Bobby Fulfills His Fantasy" Version 2: 5/95 -much improved by the mercurial one
By popular demand, another Spoof on these here sperm-rousers, written by a Literary Gentleman in the year of our Lord Nineteen Hundred and Ninety Five, that is, XMXKCLCLIIVIVX or something. Damn it's been a long time since I was in school.
WITHOUT FURTHER ADO,... let us begin.
Suddenly I saw blue lights flashing behind us. I almost shit. Bobby saw the lights too and expressed his deep concern; he giggled. The little bastard. I tried to pull out, but he was too tight. "Let go!" I said. He giggled some more.
The patrolman opened the door of his Crown Victoria and adjusted his mirror-lens sunglasses as he walked towards my car. Shit! Fuck! "Bobby, damn it! Leggo!" Adrenalin kicked in as I imagined twenty years in one of Georgia's fine correctional institutions. Summoning the strength of Hercules, I pulled again and my cock withdrew with an audible pop.
I pushed Bobby out of the way and tried to maneuver to the driver's side where I could sit down and make myself presentable before the officer reached the window. I pulled my pants together and hurriedly zipped them up, barely avoiding an impromptu castration. I snapped the pants button together and breathed a small sigh of relief. The patrolman was only 10 feet away, but that was okay--
Except for the fact that Bobby was buck-naked. "Bobby! What the fuck!--What the fuck!--" "Chill out, man. I dropped my underwear on the floor over there," he said, leaning over my lap, as the patrolman tapped on the window.
The officer's eyes grew wide as he saw the teen-aged (like, say, 18) boy lying bare-assed across my lap, his tee shirt raised up to the middle of his back. To make matters worse, my hand was resting on his left butt cheek.
I jerked my hand away as if I were touching something red- hot, and quickly rolled down the window. Had to act normal and say something before the officer figured things out on his own. I drawled, "Heylo, Officuh. Ays yew cain see, Ah is givin' muh son uh spankin' fer usin' pro-fan-i-ty, en' takin' thuh Lawd's naym en vayn." He stared at me, then at my "son's" white, untouched rear end for a little longer than I thought proper, and said, "Well Suh, Ah'm sorrah to bothuh yew whal yore dessiplinin' yore chile. Ait es rar en thes heuh day en age fer parunts ta tayk a han in rearin' thar chillun, and Ah'm alwus happeh ta see ait happun."
I noticed his eyes studying the curve of Bobby's ass. "I am sure you are," I said. He looked at me strangely. "Ah meyn, Ah em shore yew ahr," I corrected quickly.
He beamed, recalling happy memories. "Why, Suh, Ah wus a wile boyeh wen Ah wus hes age, en usin' ta git en awl sortsa troble, but muh daddy, why, he 'uld pull muh britches down en tan muh hide wid hess belt. En lookie mey now, uh po-lees officuh! Shucks! Sumtahm, Ah waken up en thuh mornin en styill caint buhlieve how gud Ah turnd out."
I said, "Uh liddel atteyenshun applahd en thuh raht areah cain alwuhs make uh yong mayan com to heys sensus." The patrolman nodded, and addressing Bobby, said, "How yew feelin', boyeh? Lernd yer lessen?"
You can imagine my surprise and horror when Bobby glared at the patrolman with defiance and answered, "Fuck no! You both can go to hell!" There was a brief moment of silence after that outburst. Bobby remained in his position over my lap, as if awaiting punishment. It didn't take a psychology major to figure out what he wanted.
For the patrolman's benefit, I covered my eyes with my forearm and sighed in despair. "Ah jess dont know waht ta dew wid thuh boyeh! Hey caint bey maynaiged!"
The officer offered some words of support and sympathy, which I won't repeat here, since I might gag and possibly barf if I have to write more Southern speech. He sternly reprimanded Bobby, but became flustered after Bobby flipped him the bird and advised, "Kiss my ass!" I don't know what police regulations are for what happened next, but the Officer, Officer Brady according to his name-tag, offered to help me teach Bobby a lesson "thet hey werent nevir gonna fergit!"
I made a weak objection which he waved away, and then opened the door to let him in, delighted. I scooted over, leaving Bobby lying on his stomach. The patrolman came in, sat down and lifted Bobby's skinny body up. I watched Bobby's cock dangling as he was being positioned over Officer Brady's lap. That organ was not limp and not dry either.
Bobby was breathing fairly hard now, and his eyes darted frequently to me, curious of my reactions. I felt a mixture of emotions--wonder, lust, and a really bad feeling, deep down inside. No, it wasn't my conscience. It was from a stale batch of nachos I had eaten at the last roadside diner. Luckily, I had some Maalox for that.
The patrolman asked me for my belt, since his had gadgets on it. I took it off and handed it to him. He wound one end around his left hand until there was only a foot of strap left. I wondered whether Bobby could take what that patrolman dished out. I soon found out. He placed his right hand firmly on the small of Bobby's back and began, slapping the belt across the middle of Bobby's butt. Bobby didn't make any sound, but his head rested on my lap and I saw his lips flinching a bit with each lick. His hands clutched my right leg tightly. The belt came down hard all over his butt, but only there. Officer Brady could aim. After several strappings, his butt was crisscrossed by red marks.
Bobby began grunting and moaning, and his buttocks quivered and shook under the strappings, an erotic sight in itself, not unlike the gyrations of a nude dancer, in miniature, with only the essential anatomy.
Soon Bobby began moaning loudly as his buttocks tensed and his body quivered all over. Now, it doesn't take a Dr. Ruth to figure out what Bobby was experiencing for the third time today. I'm afraid the cop did not have a clue, however. The patrolman eventually stopped strapping and admired his handiwork. I grinned. This was beginning to sound like one of those alt.sex.spanking stories. Yeeeeaah.
I guess I'd better tell you what he said, in all its Southern eloquence. "Suh, Ah gayv yore boyeh jess wut Ah ruhceevd ahs uh boyeh. Yuhng mayn, yew shud feyl proyd thet yew tooken yore puhneshmeynt lahk uh mayn."
Bobby was breathing deeply and sort of lying there contented.
Officer Brady looked my way as if expecting me to thank or praise him. I ignored him, as I had matters of my own to tend to. I was fighting off an erection. Finally, Officer Brady said, with a touch of annoyance, "Weyull, git up, yuhng mayn. Ah'm funushd. Lessen yew wahnt mowore!"
Bobby said, "Um, no, that was enough," got up and leaned on his side by the officer, because obviously he didn't want to sit down. Officer Brady's eyes alighted on a huge pool of cum Bobby had discharged all over his nice blue uniform.
"AARGGH!!! Wut en TARNATION es theyuss? JAYSUS CRAST!!!! Yuhng mahn! DANG-BLAST-IT!!! Yuhng mahn! Yew, yew hahd an... an.... OH-GASUM on mey! OHH MAH GAWD!! OHH LAWDIE!!"
His face turned redder than Bobby's butt. I felt so amused by this turn of events that, regretfully, I forgot to employ a Southern accent as I offered some consoling words. "Gee officer, I didn't know Junior had come of age yet!" He glared at me. I smiled and added, "Do you really think it was intentional?" He reached for the door handle. I added, "Maybe you should ask him why he did it." Abruptly he got out the car and did not walk, but ran back to his patrol car. The next thing I heard was the screeching of rubber on pavement as the cop's car ripped down the highway.
Bobby had a broad smile when I turned to look at him. "That was cool," he said, "though I imagine it was hot for you." I nodded. "For you too." "Yep." He pulled his underwear back up over his behind, leaving his pants off. Perfect attire for such a good-looking boy. He laid down in my lap, facing me, and said, "You know what? You're pretty cool. I might stay with you for a while." The little devil. I patted his head. "Ready for the next town? We're a little low on money, you know." He took a deep breath, smiled and closed his eyes.
o-- --o
l l
THE END
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o-- --o
Credits *******
Bobby...........................Shawn Hotbottom SugarDaddy......................I. Gotdacash Patrolman.......................I. Gotdasgusted
Here's what the critics say about our wonderful literary achievement! ********************************************************
"Two cocks up!" --Unskilled & Egghead
"I had tears in my eyes, was shaking all over, and was wet in some places. It really touched me...right there." --QASS Radio
"Every once in a while, a film comes along that brings back all the nostalgia of our younger years..."Buttslapper" is just such a film... " --V. Oyeur in "Sneaky Previews"
This story is officially dedicated to Crispen, who has provided the author some reading pleasure. Like, I jerk off to his stuff.
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