Hell To Pay
by Brother Lalo
"My name is Matthew and I'm an alcoholic."
With those words I began my journey into the halls of alcoholics anonymous eleven years ago. My drinking had gotten to the point where the blackouts and just plain lousiness of it all had finally convinced my family that some kind of intervention was necessary in order to bring some tranquility into not only my own but also their lives.
The road certainly hasn't been easy and there have been bumps along the way. One such hiccup happened early on in my sobriety and that's the story I write about now. But first I want to thank my sponsor for all of his help during the last eleven years. For those who might not know, an A.A. sponsor is a confidant and knows how the program works. He's a guide and a mentor to see that the "newbie" or as he calls me "pigeon" stays on course and most importantly doesn't drink. My sponsor is connected with this so I thought I'd introduce him as "John", though that is not his real name.
Now, more about me and my family. When I began the A.A. program I was 44 years old, married with two children and had a fairly decent job running my own office cleaning company. It wasn't high tech and I worked hard. It paid the bills and provided a nice comfortable life for myself, Margaret my wife, and our two sons Josh and Peter. Back then I employed John (who was to become my sponsor) as well as young guy named Miguel. Josh and Peter also helped out whenever they were home from college. Josh was the older at 22 and was a senior about to graduate while Pete a freshman at 18. John was five years younger than me at 39 and had been my employee for four years. I knew he was a recovering alcoholic when I hired him because he told me so and had been sober for a while. For me it wasn't an issue, I just thought John was someone who couldn't handle it. For me drinking on the job and partying hard after work in bars (usually without my wife) was just normal behavior for a suburban dad. Weekends were made for barbeques and highballs, or so I believed at the time.
As I said earlier my journey into A.A. began eleven years ago. How you might well ask did I come to this? I've told my story many times during AA meetings, and while everything I've said publicly before now has been true, I've kept some of the details to myself and my sponsor. I'm now a sane and sober man with a good message that helps people, but back then I was a complete falling down drunk with a history of off-the-wall and wild behavior that seems foreign to me now. This led me to stupid decisions and my family suffered with my business also going down the tubes. At the end I just didn't care and wanted nothing more than to feel numb with my companion of choice Jack Daniels.
That's all common stuff for AA, and I won't bore you with the sordid details. Suffice it to say I was ripe for either another DUI or an intervention and I was lucky enough to get the latter and this is the story of how that went.
I arrived for work one Monday promptly at 8pm (we worked nights) with a stupefying hangover from a weekend of drinking by the pool at home. John recognized it once again (this happened a lot) and though he was a younger guy he knew he couldn't see me descend into the same pit from which he had escaped. The little shit was a saint, I suppose, or possibly a devil looking back on it now.
"Hey Matt, got a second, I need to ask you something?"
Oh no, not this again, I thought. But instead I said, "Sure, what's up?"
"Matt, your drinking is really out of control. Your family is worried and you fuck'in reek like a barroom. You need to cut the shit."
Damned that little fucker ...again with my drinking. I'll do what I please, thank you very much. "It's not your concern, aren't you scheduled to go out with Josh for that office on Park Street?" That ought to shut him up, John was all business and who the fuck did he think he was anyway? I'm the boss, afterall and could fire his ass on the spot for talking like that.
"Josh is late, something about a girl. I'll need some help to finish up by morning what with those floors and all. Want to come along and work off some of that booze and get your flabby butt back to it?"
Ok, that flabby butt remark wasn't true. I belonged to a gym and while I hadn't been there in a couple of months I still had "tone" or so I usually lied to myself when glancing at my big hairy butt in the mirror every day. My wife didn't complain, and who the fuck cares about an old guy like me anyway. I was in good shape, with an emphasis on "was".
"Yeah, that Josh has been seeing a lot of his girl. I'll help out this once," deftly ignoring the remark about my fat ass. "Get the truck and I'll meet you there, I'll take my Harley."
Yeah, I ride bikes. Though if I had dared to admit it, it was mostly the bank's property with me somehow forgetting to make payments every now and then. It's funny how I could remember to get to the liquor store or stop off at a bar after work in the morning, but couldn't remember to mail a check once a month.
John left, and I grabbed my favorite leather jacket with the Harley logo on the back and rode over to Park St. Along the way, call me a dummy, I stopped in for a drink which meant I was there for six and proceeded to the office to meet John for work about two hours late.
What the hell? The buffer equipment is right here in the lobby and I for damned sure ain't doing floors. "Hey John, where are you?" I said into the walkie-talkie.
"I'm finishing on five in the big office," Matt responded quickly. "Why don't you come up and bring the buffer with you."
"Right away, bossman," I snarked. Why even bother owning a business and hiring people I pitifully thought. It's hard work being in charge all the time, and I often wished I could just chuck it all in.
Arriving on five with a buffer in tow and huffing a bit and feeling a bit woozy I stopped and stared when the elevator door opened.
There are times when you know something bad is going to happen, when you know something isn't right with what you're seeing. A disconnect, and a shock.
"Matt, your son Josh and me want to talk to you." They were both standing in front of me with their arms crossed and looking like someone had died. I felt a pang, oh no...not Margie. Why are they so sad?
"Dad, you need to stop drinking," Josh intoned. "Mom says don't come home and John and I quit, we're not going to enable you anymore. You can hire a bunch of drunks to take our place and ruin your life that way but not with our help."
Yeah, someone had died all right. It was me. As I learned much later in A.A. there often comes a point in a serious alcoholic's life when they just have had it and don't want the shit and pain and suffering and sheer banality of it all. I guess my time had come, desperation I suppose. I loved my wife and the shock of her throwing me out was enough.
"I need some help." I bowed my head and for a moment, just a brief one, I felt some relief at saying it. Then I started to cry. Huge ungodly sobs and I couldn't stop. Josh came over and I hugged him close weeping like a drunken fool. John stood there watching.
"Matt, have you had enough?" John asked.
"Yeah, I give up."
Those words still are clear in my mind today eleven years later. What wasn't clear at the time was that John had experience with drunks like me who said one thing and did another over and over again. He wasn't going to let me off so easily.
"You need to come with me. Josh got here after I called him when you didn't show up and worked his butt to finish up. We're done with the job. Your wife is going to rip you a new one if we don't start this right away."
"Ok, I am so sorry, I'll never do it again."
"I know you won't, at least you won't today while I'm here. Josh why don't you go home and your dad and I will have a talk here where it's quiet." Josh wheeled the buffer back into the elevator and with a sigh the door closed and I was left with John alone in the hallway.
"Let's use the big office they have comfortable chairs where we can discuss your problem," John said.
The office was really plush with carpeting and drapes and table lamps. It looked more like a living room with a huge mahogany desk and nice mini conference table with chairs. John took a seat in an arm chair and I sat on the sofa.
"Matt, there's something called `surrender' in this program. It means that you've given up completely and turned your will over to a higher power. I'll be your sponsor and show you how I work my program which adds a few things on to the regular twelve steps and twelve traditions of A.A. But you need to trust me and consider me your higher power while we do this."
"What?" What's this higher power shit, and Matt is about as much of a higher power as a toad. He's a skinny assed little runt and he might know a few things but I'm the boss. This won't work. But I said instead, "I'll try."
"Good Matt, willingness to be taught is a good sign. Do you admit that you are powerless over alcohol? That your life has become unmanageable?"
Both of these were true, and I knew it. "Yes".
"Part of the extra incentive I use for my pigeons, and that's what you are Matt, a pigeon right now, is to give the message of AA and to enforce it with rigorous feedback and coaching. This was taught to me by my sponsor and though AA doesn't have this in their twelve traditions, it's one that works for the right sort of person who surrenders to another person. AA works when the higher power is God; this non-AA tradition gets you ready for that."
"Are you willing to go to any lengths?" There was look of deadly seriousness on John's face. "This is life or death for many people."
"I'll do what it takes, I can't continue with this, my life is a mess. What do I have to do?" I meant this only half-heartedly, I needed some calm and peace and serenity in my life and the drink was ruining (has ruined) my life, but not this. I was prepared to at least fool John long enough to get out of this situation with the wife, or so I thought at the time.
"Good. Let's start now. I want you to stand up and take off all of your clothes right now!"
Say what? I didn't hear that right. This isn't like AA I read about on the internet when last I tried quitting the drink. No. This was weird, take off my clothes? Here? Now!
"Matt, this is the pre-program to get you ready. Trust me to know this. You must be ready for the surrender to come, and this is the surrender to me that you must endure to begin and is my way to lasting sobriety."
"You mean I have to do what you say because you're the boss?" I'm the boss, I inwardly screamed and you are fucking fired, I wanted to yell.
"You got it. From now on you do what I say, you shut up, and you listen to what I'm going to teach you. Later we'll attend meetings and get you started on the regular 12 step program, for now do as I say."
Holy shit! I stood up to leave. I had to get out of here! I am not going to listen to a guy five years younger than me telling me to take off my clothes and get bareass naked in some strange office. What's he going to do next?
I walked to the door. More like I ran to the door. John was right behind me, and put a hand on my shoulder gripping it tightly. I stopped and started to babble. This can't be happening, I know I need to stop drinking could this work? Why is my dick hard? Am I that perverted? I strip all the time in the locker room with other guys. But this is too intimate here in this office, and too goddamn bizarre to do it just because John says I have to.
"Let me help you, Matt." I turned to face him. He had this calm demeanor while I was panic stricken. Like a deer caught in the headlights. This runt of a guy was staring at me intently, I was petrified. Worse I could feel something else besides my rock hard dick. Was this surrender or capitulation?
"I can't, John. I can't take off my clothes in front of you, what are you gay or something?" There wasn't a gay bone in John's body that I could tell, he was as straight as me.
"Get naked, Matt, or I'll do it for you." He reached for my leather jacket, and unzipped it. "There now, I've started you, give me your jacket." With my hands trembling, and gosh knows what the fuck, I was taking off my jacket and handing it over to him where he promptly dropped it on the floor.
"Let me help you with that shirt." He unbuttoned my shirt to the waist and roughly pulled it pulled it off my shoulders spinning me around at the same time and pulling it out of my trousers and off. He turned me around again. My eyes were everywhere darting about, I looked down at my hairy chest with my love handles Margie likes so much. I looked away and saw myself in a mirror on the wall. I blushed! Matt pushed me down onto the sofa again and knelt there untying my shoes and removing them and my socks.
"Stand up for me, Matt. I need to get your pants off."
"I can do it, John." Why did I say that? I reached for my belt and unclasped it and dropped my work pants down to my ankles lifting my feet to disentangle them. I could see me in the mirror in just my plaid boxers and hairy legs and chest. I was shaking, and I was still hard. Why?
"Finish it, Matt, take off your underwear. " I reached down and bent over as I took off my last remaining bit of clothing. I wasn't feeling too good about John seeing me hard, and cupped myself as I stood back up so that John wouldn't see my dick. I'm sure my face was red and my teeth chattered a bit.
"Matt, you are now about to begin a journey of discovery about yourself and you are now the student. You begin by losing your clothing, and you'll do everything I say as your teacher. You must be fully broken down before we can begin to build you up again. You are not to speak and you are not to question me or my methods. You are embarrassed right now. You will be even more embarrassed as we progress. You will suffer the kinds of pain and humiliation you inflicted on others while you were drunk. You must read aloud what is on this card." John took a paper from his pocket and extended it to me.
I reached over with one hand still shielding my dick and balls and shook the paper to unfold it and began to read:
"I, Matthew G.am an alcoholic. I surrender myself to John S. for the sole purpose of getting me ready to proceed with the AA 12 steps. I will do as he asks even though I will often not wish to. I do this for me and me alone. I am the student and will learn as best I am able. This I solemnly swear."
"Are you ready to sign this statement, Matt?" I gulped and shook and shivered and looked over at my naked reflection in the mirror. Do I need to be naked for this? Why is my dick so hard? I was in a cold sweat, what would all of this mean?
"Yes, John." He walked to the small table and produced a pen. "Come sign it over here."
I stumbled forward grasping by balls and holding the paper. I signed it at the table bending over slightly with my back to John while my hard dick bobbed underneath. I just wanted out of there, and yet I stayed while a man took control of me.
SWAT! John spanked my ass! SWAT, SWAT, SWAT, SWAT!
I jumped up saying, "John, I signed it, lemme outta here, stop it!"
"You did indeed sign it, Matt. Now bend right back over the table so I can finish spanking you."
"I will NOT! I never said I'd agree to that!" My dick was bobbing now and John looked at it while I scurried to find my boxers. "This isn't for me, I will not be spanked! " I shouted.
I had my boxers on and was putting my jeans on when John reached for his walkie-talkie and said, "I need some help, come on in."
Immediately my son Josh rushed into the room with his younger brother Peter following closely behind. They must have been waiting outside the door and listening in. They caught me as I was buttoning my shirt. My face was red and hot...they must have heard me reading that! Their old man stripped for a guy at his command.
"Josh, Pete, what...lemme go you two! What are you doing!" The unthinkable was happening. While Josh held me strongly from behind, my youngest was at my waist yanking my jeans and boxers down to my ankles. Josh roughly turned me around and Pete stripped my shirt off with me pressed against Josh face to face. In less than 5 seconds I was naked again, and crackinig a big fat one.
"Lift him up Josh so I can get his pants off his ankles." Josh was strong enough, built like me only no flab. I was summarily relieved of the clothing at my ankles and turned around to face John and Peter. My hairy body flushed red, my sons hadn't seen me naked in a long time and had never seen their dad with a throbbing erection like I had now.
I was in embarrassed and in utter shock. John walked over to sofa and sat down beckoning Josh to manhandle me over to him. I was marched over and John grabbed my balls and hauled them and the rest of me over his lap. I struggled as hard as I could, twisting and shouting at them to let me go. "Stop it boys!" John had grabbed my hard dick and used it to hold me in place.
SPANK, SPANK, SPANK. "Dad, this is for your own good," Josh said as he and Peter held me over John's lap. This can't be happening!
SPANK, SPANK, SPANK, SPANK, SPANK, SPANK,SPANK,SPANK,SPANK!!
Blows from John's hand rained down on my quivering hairy butt while the fruit of my loins watched their dear old drunk of a dad get his tail spanked by his employee.
"Dad, you are going to change your ways, and we're going to help John do it!" I yelped and squirmed as the blows continued, my ass getting redder and really hurting. "You are going to shape up," Peter my youngest chirped, "and your painful butt is going to get you ready for the program."
SPANK,SPANK,SPANK,SPANK, SPANK,SPANK,SPANK,SPANK, SPANK,SPANK,SPANK,SPANK!
On it went, even after I collapsed over John's lap. Josh and Pete let me go, and I just lay there taking more from John. I started to sniffle and my eyes got red. This is too much, humiliated before my own sons like this, crying with a painful ass. I was truly a broken man, my dick had lost its hardness and was trying to sneak back into my body, shrunken up while I took my spankings. Snot running from my nose mixed with tears of humiliation. John stopped.
"Ok, Matt, stand up and go get in that corner over there!" John commanded and I obeyed. I lifted myself no longer caring about my nudity and sniffled my way over to where Pete the shy younger image of me stood. I felt ashamed of my crying and blubbering with Peter pointing to the corner. My face pressed nose to wall with a gentle nudge from him.
"Boy, your ass is red, dad," Pete said. "Wait until mom sees it!" I moaned inwardly at the thought of my petite wife seeing her brawny husband with a red ass. What would she think of me? How do I explain this?
"She told us to make sure you got a good one when John explained his program to us. She said it was about time you had your comeuppance and learned that actions have consequences. Your drinking days are over, and when you get to AA you'll be all ready for their 12 step program." She knows! Holy shit, my wife is in on this!
"I'm ready now for AA," I mumbled. Pete patted my ass and said, "Not quite. John said we need instruction for seeing to it that you follow his instructions when we're at home. Pop, it'll be hard for you being the boss of the family and also having to run the business. John came up with a good idea and mom agrees that while you are at home Josh and me will see to it that you follow John's instructions. We can go to school and take care of you at the same time."
"What are you talking about," I nervously asked.
"We're going to spank you as surrogates for John," Josh piped in. "And since you cannot be trusted with the business, John will be in charge there. Your days as a dad are over, you're now the one with a curfew and a red tail at bedtime whether you need it or not."
I was mortified. "You can't be seriously thinking I'm going to agree to this! It's bad enough you seeing your dad get his butt roasted, but I'll be damned if my kids are going to spank me! John, help me out here!"
"Matt, you made your bed a long time ago, and this is the way it's going to be. As a demonstration, I want you to ask Josh to paddle your ass. Believe me, you don't want me doing this right now; your son might be more lenient than I am right now."
FUCK me, I'm screwed!
At the word "paddle" my dick gave a lurch. With Josh, Pete, and John noticing it chubbing up to full-on erection, my face reddened, my body was blushing as red as my ass, and they all started laughing when I said, "Josh, will you paddle me?"
"Dad, put your hands on your head and get your butt over to that table. You're in for my frat paddle which I brought along special. Now move it or you get double! " I scurried over to the table with my dick sticking straight up to the ceiling, my face a mass of horror as my sons could now plainly see my dick glistening. I'm ashamed to admit it, but I was awash in humiliation and submissiveness.
"Ok, Josh, don't hit me too hard, please!"
"Over you go dad, bend right over. And while you're at it, pull your cheeks apart I want to see the asshole of an asshole." Gulp, unreal, and I reached back and showed my eldest my most secret and private place. My hairy ass spread wide for my kid holding his frat paddle to use on his old man. I was into this, as degrading and shameful a thing as it was. Drinking was forgotten while I felt the air waft into my deep hairy cleft. "Wider, dad, spread it good so I can see that hole of yours. You sure have a hairy ass, dad. Pete, get over here and check out dad's butthole!"
"Hey, I got an idea, Josh," my eager younger son exclaimed. Let's shave his ass before you paddle it! I'll bet mom gets a kick of it. What do you think John?"
"I don't know boys, he's your dad and he's not a kid. Men are supposed to have hair in certain places and it wouldn't look right for him to have a hairy body with a shaved butt. Why don't you just shave all of his hair off, and make him the boy of your family. Take it all including his goatee, but leave him the hair on his head and his mustache to remind him he's got some growing up to do."
I released my cheeks, and immediately Josh let loose with the paddle! SWAT, SWAT, SWAT,SWAT! "You're getting ten dad, those were warm-ups. Count off after each one!" I was going to lose my hair, all of it. Shaved bare!
SWAT, "One" I grunted. SWAT, "Two", SWAT "Three", SWAT "four", my voice was rising...this hurt and all I could think of was my hard dick now rubbing the surface of the table. "FIVE"...AND ON IT WENT..."NINE", crying now, SWAT "TEN"! It was over. I took ten swats, and perversely I felt proud to have done it without crying out.
John walked over and examined my ass. "Ok boys, that was good for him. I see his dick isn't so hard any more, but his butt is still as hairy as ever. You boys see to your dad while I fetch the clippers and razors from my goody bag in the truck."
I lay there for a while, coming to grips with my situation. All the while Josh and Pete were discussing who would shave what body part. My dick lengthened once again into a stiffy underneath me, and by the time John returned I guess I had surrendered enough to make it easier for my boys to shave me. I reached back and spread my cheeks of my own accord. John handed Pete the clippers and my eager son set to work mowing down the thick hair in my crack and on my cheeks. Pete also got the wisps on my lower back. Josh lathered me up back there and John used a straight razor to lop off the stubble. When my cheeks came together, I was a goner...the smoothness of them rubbing together caused me to ejaculate onto the table. My shame was complete, but the sexiness of it all and the way my cheeks were so smoothly sliding over each other with no hairy hindrance left me breathless and horny as hell.
"Flip over dad, Pete needs to shave your crotch and dick. That ass of yours looks like a baboon's! Red as a tomato and no hair no where!" I flipped onto my back and watched while Pete delicately and rather shyly picked up my hard dick and skillfully pruned my bush to nothing with the clipper. What followed was the shaving of course, and I gasped when Pete grabbed my dick to move it this way and that. I was made to hold my legs to my chest while Pete shaved my balls and perineum. Josh took over for my hairy chest, and I admit that I cried a little when the clipper went right through my chest forest. The humiliation of it all got to me I guess and when they were done with the shave, Josh and Peter stood back to admire the view while John stepped up with scissors and took my goatee, finishing with the straight razor.
"Off you go dad, go look in the mirror, boy," sniggered Josh. I padded to the wall mirror and the freakishness of my once manly body looked ridiculous with a huge erection and whitish skin where the follicles once proliferated. I was unmanned completely and I nervously stood there staring at myself knowing that both my kids now had more "man fur" than I did. I wanted to go home and hide. I hoped Margie wouldn't laugh at me too much. I wouldn't be able to go the gym until it grew back, what would the other dads say?
"Oh Matt there's one more thing. You are not to have sex at all for the next six weeks while you're under my tutelage. To that end, there's one more indignity you will need to endure." John reached into his bag of tricks and pulled out a box. "This is a male chastity device which will prevent you getting erections (or at least make them painful)."
"Hold him down boys while I restrain his cock. Josh and Pete held my arms while they hustled me back over to the table sitting my hot, shaved ass down and spreading my legs wide apart. My erection wouldn't go down by itself, and as I felt the snaps of the device lock into place my last remaining vestige of manhood was cajoled into shrinking. Finally a lock was placed, and as I looked down my proud 8 inches was reduced to a mere 3 locked into place with a padlock with Josh pocketing the key for Margie.
"Oh, God!" Shorn, spanked, paddled and no possibility of an erection!
"Boys, the first six weeks are the hardest. You'll have to monitor him, and your mom will need to handle him with kit gloves. She'll have the key and it's up to her as to when he gets to have sex. I must caution you though. A man needs to have his prostate drained periodically or there can be medical consequences. At least once every three days I want you to milk your dad's prostate. This can be done without him having an erection. Let me demonstrate."
I couldn't take this! I knew exactly what he wanted to do to me, and damned if I was going to let my sons finger fuck me to get to my prostate! I jumped off the table and ran to the door while Josh and Pete got a rundown of the "procedure." I made it to the elevator, naked with butt still blazing caged and stricken dumb with fear. My dick tried to harden but it hurt like hell. I felt my son Josh's hand swat my ass and turned. With tears in my eyes, I pleaded with him not to do this and begged as he led me back to the room. "I'll be good, I'll be good, don't do it!"
"Dad, for that you're getting another ten licks with your belt. Bend over grab your ankles, and spread your cheeks. These are going right on your shiny asshole!"
Suffice it to say, this sorry drunk of a dad was one sore blubbering mess when Josh finished up with the tenth strike right on my flaming hole. The pain was incredible, I don't think I've ever felt anything like it and I was screaming at the top of my lungs the entire time.
"Gee pop, that hole looks raw. John here has a book on prostate massage for wayward dads like you and how to get the fluid to flow. Your butthole looks kind of tender right now, so just hold it there while I lube you up with some special ointment." The indignity of it all! How could I bend over and let this happen? My youngest son approached with a tube of ointment for his old man's aching asshole.
I finally said, "Go ahead, Peter." (My hole was flaming and I needed some relief, fast!)
The cream or whatever it was felt like a blessed relief. My son actually coated me up pretty good back there and despite my caged cock's inability to extend I started to feel something as Peter gently pushed his finger in an out of my hole. How do you thank someone for soothing your spanked butthole?
"No, not like that, Pete." Josh elbowed his brother out of the way and asked John to hand him the plug. Josh quickly squirted more ointment onto the damned thing, and began twisting it around my hole, pushing and retreating pushing and retreating. I felt like a whore when I said, "Just shove it in, Josh." And he did, my hole stretched to accomodate the thing, and when he switched it on it started to vibrate!
Son of a bitch! What a jolt! John came over and inspected my plugged ass closely. "You'll need to keep this in for the next day or so, and when you need to evacuate you can have Margie take it out for you.
In the meantime it's back to the office for the rest of this shift. Here's your jacket, it's cold out there.
"What, what about my... my clothes?" I stammered.
"It's ok, the truck is high enough off the ground, and I don't think anyone will see you. You can't put jeans over that sore ass anyway." And with that John swatted by bare ass hitting the plug as I put my Harley jacket back on. Walking to the door I shuddered to think what anyone would say if they saw my baboon butt with the knob of a buttplug humming there.
Will this nightmare ever end?
Author's Note:
This work is entirely fiction. Any resemblance to people living or dead is entirely accidental. All of the names used are entirely fictitious. Copyright, Brother Lalo, 2010.
If there are any dads suffering from substance abuse of any sort, don't hesitate to contact me. I want you to succeed, and I'd be happy to help out.
BrotherLalo
Email: wtreat007@yahoo.com