Punking Mike

Punking Mike, Part 2

Punking Mike, Part 2

Max H.  lilperv76@yahoo.com

This story involves sex between guys.  If you shouldn't be reading stuff like that, move on.

The characters in this fantasy may not always practice safe sex.  In the world we live in everyone should practice safe sex.

It's okay to print this story out or save it to disc, but it remains my property.  Don't transfer it to another website or archive without my permission.

Thanks, as always, to TW for doing the beta reading here.

As I said last time, the character of Jeff and several of the events in this chapter were suggested by "the Marine."  This time, however, he actually wrote some passages.  Thanks, friend.

>From Chapter 11:

"Sir!  Yes sir!"

He executed a crisp about face.  I loved the way his cock stood out from his pubes as he whirled around.  He began, "From the Halls of Montezuma . . ." and marched upstairs.  As I followed, watching his cute little muscular ass wiggle as he climbed the stairs, I thought this might be a very interesting evening – if I didn't get too aroused.

Chapter 12

Mike Cronin:

Like the last chapter this one will be about Jeff's "initiation."

Jeff was about halfway through the second verse when I caught up with him in the bathroom.  He was singing lustily in his pleasant baritone voice.

"At ease, Foster."  He quit singing and assumed the at-ease position.

"I want you to sing the first verse again, and mark time."  

"Sir!  Yes sir!  Sing the first verse and mark time, sir!"

All the bathrooms in Gage's house were bigger than the master bath in our house back in Fort Wayne, so Jeff and I had plenty of room for what we were about to do.  When he had finished singing, he stood at attention.

"Nice voice, Foster."

"Sir!  Thank you, sir!"

"Did you bring the required shaving gear, Foster?"

"Sir!  Yes, sir!"

"Then go retrieve it."  I was trying to play the DI to the hilt, using books I had read and movies I'd seen.  I didn't know whether I was doing a passable job or not.  I also knew the Marines had a different language from the Army, so I was probably messing it all up.  But I was kind of getting into the role playing.  Besides, it was fun watching my cute naked friend obey my orders.

When he came back with his razor, extra blades, and a can of shaving foam, he put them on the counter next to the sink and stood at attention.

"Did you bring clippers, Foster?"

"Sir!  No sir!"

"And why not, Foster?"

"Sir!  No excuses, sir!"

I grinned and shook my head.  "Oh, that's another fuckup, I'm afraid."

This time he was smart enough not to apologize.  He just stood there at attention.

I faked a big sigh.  "Okay, worm, I guess I'll have to supply the clippers.  Let's give you something to do while I'm gone.  Stick the middle finger of your right hand in your mouth and get it as wet as you can."

He gave me a puzzled look, but he did what I said.

"The wetter the better."  I waited a minute.  "Now, stick that finger up your ass and keep it there until I get back."

"Sir!  Permission to speak, sir?"

"Speak."

"Sir!  Isn't that, uh, kind of gay, sir?"

"No, Foster.  I imagine at least half of the straight men in the world have had their fingers up there at least once.  Haven't you?"

"Sir!  No sir!"

I grinned.  "Well, worm, you'll be in for a new experience.  But the purpose here is humiliation, not seduction.  You may remember standing there with your finger up your ass for the rest of your life, but I'm sure the Marines, if you make it, will give you lots worse things to remember.  Now, do it!"

"Aye, sir!"  He stuck the finger back into his mouth to rewet it and then reached behind and slowly inserted the specified digit into the requisite opening.  He had a look of total concentration as he did so.

"If it's too tight, push like you were going to shit."

He gave me a panicked look for a moment, but he must have done what I said, because his face got red and then his eyes got wide.  Then he grinned briefly before making his face an expressionless mask.

"Sir!  Finger inserted, sir!"

"Yes," I laughed.  "I can see that.  Now, I'll let you decide whether nor not to wiggle it around while I'm gone."  I went to the bathroom Gage and I shared and got the clippers I used on myself.  In the bedroom I grabbed the camera.  Jeff's eyes got wide when he saw the camera.

"Relax, Jeff," I said, dropping the military pose for the moment.  "I'm not going to take a picture of you like that.  But you know we're required to have pictures of the rest of it."

It's a little hard to look military when you're naked and have your finger up your chute, and Jeff didn't quite manage.  He did give me the standard affirmative response, however.

"Now, grunt, remove your finger and do what you think is appropriate."  I had assumed he'd turn around and wash it.  Instead, he grinned at me and flipped me the bird.

I couldn't respond at first because I was laughing so hard.  "Oh, Jeffie, I'll get you for that.  You'd better remember that your ass is mine for the next week."

He grinned and stood at attention, except that the dirty finger was extended, pointing toward the floor.

"So, wash your hands, dumbass."

He turned without saying anything and washed his hands, drying them on a hand towel hanging next to the sink.

"Jeff, I should give you another demerit for not acknowledging the order to wash your hands, but I won't.  In fact, I don't know how we're going to manage the whole shaving thing if we have to do it by the numbers, so let's drop that for now, okay."

"Sir!  If you say so, sir!"  Then he grinned and relaxed, leaning back against the counter.

"So, who's going to do this?"

"I've been thinking about that.  I'd like to do as much of it as possible, and the orders don't specify."

"Fine by me, Jeff.  But you may find doing your crack a little difficult.  So you do everything you can.  That includes everything below your eyebrows.  Forearms and legs as well as pits, cock, pubes, and ass."

"Do the sealed orders say that?"

"You'll never know.  I just said it, and remember I'm in charge."

"Oh, man!"

"That sounded like a complaint, Foster," I said, in my "official" voice.

"Sorry, sir.  I just wish I didn't have to do this.  What are the guys at the gym going to say?"

"Easy.  Just tell them it's something you had to do for your initiation.  Lots of fraternities are having initiations about now, too, you know."

"Thanks, Mike.  I hadn't thought of that.  Sorry I said anything."

"Okay, get to it."

After he had done his pits, forearms, legs, and his suggestion of a happy trail with shaving cream and the razor, he picked up the clippers.  He looked at me, closed his eyes, took a deep breath, opened his eyes, and whizzed off his nice brown bush.  Then he used cream and the razor to take off the stubble.  He then very carefully did the few hairs on the underside of his cock.  Then, still bent over, he paused.  He stood up, put the razor down, cleared his throat and looked at me nervously.

"Mike, I hate to ask this, but would you do my balls?"

Being very careful not to grin, I said, "Sure, Jeff, if you really want me to."

"I'm afraid I'll cut myself, and I'd really trust you to do it better."

"Attaboy.  I've had some experience at this.  Sit down on the toilet lid and shove your hips as far forward as you can."  He sat, leaned his back against the tank, and let his butt catch just the front edge of the lid.  

Jeff gasped when I grabbed his cock and lifted it out of the way. "Bet you've never had another guy touch your cock, right?"

"Right!"

"Okay, you hold it up against your belly out of the way."  He did.  That way I could push and pull his balls as needed to run the clippers over them.  There were a few long hairs on them, which the clippers took care of in short order.

"Okay, Jeff.  Stand up and turn around."  When he had done that, I said, "Now, spread your feet as far apart as you can and bend over with your hands on the lid."  He did that.

"No, that's not going to work.  Keep your feet apart, turn 45 degrees, and grab your ankles."

He muttered something like "sheesh," but I ignored it.  His face was red, but I was enjoying the view from the other end.  I could see his brownish-pink rosebud.  When I squatted to work on the backs of his balls and his perineum, it was at eye level.  I had been taking deep breaths and concentrating on the job at hand up to that point, but that was too much.  I sprang a boner.  I'd been wearing corduroy jeans.  The fabric was a little looser and a little softer than denim jeans, but I still had to stop to adjust myself before I went ahead and used the clippers.  Mike, who was looking at me upside down between his legs, saw what I was doing.

"Sorry about the delay."

"Just keep it in your pants and get on with it, okay?"

"Careful, Foster.  We may have to go back into military mode."

"Sorry, Mike.  But this is a pretty humiliating position, you know."

"Okay.  I think we're ready for the razor.  Just stay put for a minute."  I got the shaving cream and began to put it in his crack, on his taint, and all over his balls.  Then I carefully shaved all those areas.  I think Jeff was holding his breath the whole time, for when I squatted back on my heels, he sucked in a deep breath.

I swatted his ass and said, "Okay, we still have to get the front of your balls, and then it will be show time."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Just stand up with your legs as far apart as you can get them."

"But Mike, I, uh, well, that is . . . "

"What's the problem?"

He stood up, turned, and faced me.  And I was eye to eye with his hard cock.

"Put your hands behind your head, Jeff."

He did, blushing all over his face, throat, and chest as he did so.

"Don't worry about the woody, dude.  Anybody who didn't throw wood after having his ass and balls played with would be dead.  Doesn't mean you're gay or anything."

"I know I'm not gay, Cronin.  I just was afraid you'd think so."

"Relax.  Let me just finish you off here."

He winced.  "Did you have to put it that way?"

I chuckled.  "Grab that pole and pull it up out of my way."  Then, ever so carefully, I finished shaving his balls.  When I was done I stood up and turned Jeff to face the mirror.

"Voila!"

"Oh, my God!  I look like a little boy."

"Aww, Jeffie.  I think you're adorable.  Besides, it makes your cock look bigger, doesn't it?"

"Watch the adorable shit, Cronin!  Yeah, it does make my cock look bigger, but who's going to see it that matters?"

"Don't you have a girlfriend?"

"I had one in La Jolla, but I haven't had time for one here."

"I've been meaning to ask you, how did you decide to come here if your family is in California?"

"Both my parents are alumni, and they wanted me to come here.  And I wanted to get away from all the spoiled rich brats I grew up with, so I kind of liked the thought of coming here.  Now, may I please take a shower?"

"I think that's a good idea.  I'll be waiting downstairs with the camera."  I picked up the camera and the clippers.  As I was about to shut the bathroom door, I said, "You have permission to wank off now."  He gave me the universal fuck-you sign and turned on the water in the shower.

As I waited for Jeff to shower and come back downstairs, I couldn't help thinking back to the summer when Seth had made me shave myself for the first time.  And how he had made Jason and me keep ourselves shaved.  After that, being shaved didn't seem all that big a deal.  But I also remembered how humiliating it was the first time.  And for a guy as tight-assed as Jeff, I could imagine it was going to be a big deal.  I felt kind of sorry for him.  But he had worse things to get through that evening, I reminded myself.

I watched as he came down the stairs, looking more like 15 than 18, and my cock got hard again.  His cock, now looking very prominent because of the lack of pubes, swayed from side to side.  He was blushing again, knowing I was staring at him and grinning.  

"Don't say a thing, Cronin!" he said.

"Moi?  I've promised to behave myself.  I take that to mean no unauthorized touching.  But I can't help what I'm thinking, can it?"

He grinned.  "Perv!"

"Okay, I'll let that one pass.  I guess I asked for it."

I noticed that he looked cold.  "I'm going to start a fire.  It's already laid."  I picked up a remote and pressed the button.  The gas jets in the fire place came to life.  I left them on long enough to start the kindling and turned them off.  "Why don't you run in place for a few minutes?  That should warm you up.  And stand over by the fireplace while you're doing it."

I waited to see that he was doing what I had said, then went to the kitchen and got us each a beer.  I put both beers on a table and sat, watching him.  After a few minutes, I asked, "Warm now?"

He nodded and kept running.  

"Okay, come have a beer.  If you want, you can wrap up in that throw on the back of the sofa over there."

He grabbed the throw, wrapped it around himself, and picked up the beer.  Then he just stood there.

"Jeff, I'm sorry, it's okay to sit down while you're having your beer."

He sat on the edge of the sofa, sitting at attention, as usual.  When he'd finished his beer, he said, "I'm ready when you are."

"The printout you gave me said you'd have to be photographed to prove you were properly shaved, but it didn't say which poses.  The poses were in my special instructions.  So, let's get on with it.  Stand over by the fireplace.  Stand as if you were at attention, but clasp your hands behind your head."

Then I had him turn around so I could get a picture from the rear.  After that it was close-up time.  I used the zoom to get in on his pits and then his pubes, taking two shots of each pose.

"Now, turn around, bend over, and pull your ass cheeks apart."

"No, I . . ."

"Foster!  Attention!"

He laughed at me.  

"What the fuck are you laughing at, worm?"

"I'm sorry, Mike, but it's the way you said `attention,' pronouncing all the syllables."

"So, how should I have said it?"

"Well, it's like this:  `ten HUT!"

"Foster!  `ten HUT!"

He came to attention.

"About face!"

He executed a smart about face, as he had done earlier.  And I enjoyed once again the way his cock stood away from his body as he whirled around.  

"Foster, pre-sent ass, HUT!"

He bent over and held his cheeks apart.  Instead of using the zoom, I came close and knelt down to take the pictures.  When I was finished, I blew my breath on his pucker.  He yelped and almost straightened up.  But he quickly got back into position.

"ten-HUT!"

"A-bout FACE!"

There he was, facing me, at attention.  And I didn't know what to say next.

"How do I tell you it's okay to sit down?"

"Sir!  You can say either `fall out' or `dismissed,' sir!"

I chuckled.  "Okay, Jeff.  Consider I said one of those.  Now, want another beer?"

"Yeah, if you don't mind."

I got two more beers.  "Now, grab the throw and sit on the floor over here by the fire, and we'll look at what we've got."

I handed him the camera and he quickly went through the pics stored there.  He winced at just about every shot he looked at.  "I'll die if the wrong people ever see these.  Especially those close-ups of my butt."

"Jeff, I'll put them on a disc.  I promise not to keep copies.  You can see that the right people in your ROTC unit get them and then do what you want with the disc.  Does that make you feel any better?"

"Yeah, thanks, Mike.  I knew you'd be decent about this.  And I'm sure my ROTC drill instructor won't show them around.  He just wants evidence that I've done what they've commanded me to do."

"Well, Jeff, we're getting there.  You ready for the hard part?"

"You know, I kind of feel as if the hardest part is over."

"Don't count on that.  Did you bring the paddle they gave you?"

"Yep."

"What's that?"

"Sir!  Yes sir!"

"Then go get it and bring it back here.  On the double, Foster!"

I got a wonderful view of his ass as he trotted upstairs after the paddle.  When he got back, he handed it to me.  It looked like the typical fraternity paddle, except that someone had used a wood burner to carve the Marine Corps insignia and the motto, "Semper Fidelis," on it.  

"Now, get on your knees and rest your elbows on that easy chair over there.  You are to count off the swats.  If you miss one, we start over.  I know how long I'm going to paddle you, but you won't.  And if you ask me to stop, that will mean 25 additional swats.  Got all that?"

"Sir! Yes sir!"  And he repeated exactly what I had just said.

This was the part I didn't want to do.  I had been paddled and spanked often enough by Seth and by others.  In the right circumstances, it could even be sexy as hell.  But this was different.  It was designed to see how much pain Jeff could stand.  There wasn't supposed to be anything sexual about it.  

My instructions were to continue to paddle Jeff until he cried.  I had to see tears running down his face before I could quit.  I hated that, but those were our orders, and, such was his commitment, I knew he wouldn't thank me for failing to carry them out.

It doesn't really matter how many blows he received.  He never failed to give me the correct count, even when he was doing it through clenched teeth, even when he was sweating, even after his ass had turned flaming red.  I could have been cruel and varied the time between the strokes.  I knew from experience it was worse not knowing when the next blow would land.  So I tied to maintain a regular rhythm.  

My hand was getting tired.  Jeff was red-faced, his voice raspy as he gave the count, and I was secretly hoping he'd cry.  I'll give him this, he never asked me to stop.  Finally, finally, I saw the sign I'd been looking for.  He must have been ashamed, for he dropped his chin to his chest.  I stopped what I was doing.

Gently, I put my hand on his shoulder.  "Jeff, look up at me!"

He took a while to obey the order, obviously reluctant to let me see his face.  When he did, there were tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Hallelujah, babe.  You've done it!  We're through!" I wanted to hug him so much, but I knew I couldn't.  Instead I helped him stand up.

Jeff looked panicked and resisted, protesting, "Sir, no, sir!  I can take it, sir!  You don't have to stop."  He must have assumed that we hadn't reached the target but that I was cutting short his paddling out of pity.

"Jeff," I said gently, "we're through with this."

Instead of his normal ramrod posture, my cute buddy hung his head, shoulders slumped.  "Mike, I'm so ashamed.  I cried like some wuss."

"No, Jeffie.  They all do.  Those were my instructions."

"What?"  He looked confused.

"I was ordered to keep whaling at you until you cried."

"I'm glad you didn't tell me that.  I might have been tempted to fake it earlier."

"Exactly.  I'm sure that's why I wasn't supposed to tell you that.  But, Jeff, I'm so proud of you. I couldn't ever have taken what you just did.  How do you feel?"

"Well," he said, giving me a wan smile, "my butt hurts.  Other than that, I'm fine."

"That reminds me.  We have to get pics.  Sorry, but would you grab your ankles, please?"

He did, and I got pictures of his cherry red ass from several angles.

One last chore for the night was that I had to use a magic marker on the paddle and write the total number of swats Jeff had received, date it, and sign my name.

Still fighting my urge to hug him, I suggested that, since we had to get up early the next morning to get him to campus for his 8:00 class, we had better get some sleep. I went up the stairs first because I didn't want to have to look at his poor butt.

Upstairs, we paused awkwardly in the hallway.  "Jeff, would you like some aspirin?  Would that violate any kind of code?"

"I don't think so."

"Hey, I've just remembered.  I have some lotion with aloe.  It's really soothing.  Take my word for it.  Would you like to use some of it?"

"Yeah, thanks, Mike."

I went into our bathroom and brought the tube of aloe cream back to him.  He thanked me again, said goodnight, and went into his room.  I had just gotten stripped down to my boxers when he tapped on my door.

"Mike?"

"Yeah, Jeff?"

"I'm sorry to bother you."

"No bother, dude.  What's up?"

"I, uh, well, I tried to use the stuff you gave me, and, uh . . . "

"What's wrong?"

"It hurts so bad I can't bear to touch myself.  But I know the cream would help.  Would you, uh, could you bear to . . ."

"You want me to put it on you?"

"Uh huh."  He sounded like a little kid.

My heart did a kind of flipflop.  At this point, I thought of Jeff, who was a year younger than me, as my kid brother.  I could imagine what guts it took for Jeff to ask me that.  And how humiliating it was.  He knew I was gay.  But he needed the cream on his poor, burning behind.  

"Sure, come on."  We went into his bedroom.  He had already turned back the bed as carefully as it would be turned back in a four-star hotel.  

"Lie down, dude."  When he did, I coated his butt cheeks with the cream, trying to be as gentle as I could.  The skin on his ass was incredibly hot to the touch.  I'd had experiences similar to what Jeff had just gone through, but I don't think Seth ever beat me as much as I'd beaten Jeff that evening.  I felt like a total shit.  But, I rationalized one more time, if it hadn't been me, it would have been someone else.  Maybe it would have been some sadistic bastard who got off on watching Jeff suffer.  

Me, I got off on looking at Jeff's cute, hairless, naked body.  But I could cry every time I looked at his red ass.

"Thanks, Mike.  I think I'll just lie like this.  Would you turn off the light?"

"Sure, Jeff.  And, Jeff?"

"Yeah?"

"Please tell me you forgive me for my part in all of this."

Even though it probably hurt like hell to move, he turned so that he could look me in the eye.  "Nothing to forgive, Mike.  In fact, it probably hurt you as much if not more to do this to your friend.  I know that.  I can see it in your eyes.  But you sucked it up and got through it because that's what you needed to do, what your friend asked you to do."  I was surprised at the depth of his insight.  He continued, "Mike, you are my best friend.  Thank you for doing all this for me."

He hesitated a bit.  "Mike, do you think you could, well . . . ?"  He trailed off into silence, clearly uncertain of what he was about to say.

I jumped at the chance to make him comfortable.  Anything!  "What is it, Jeffie?"

He indicated the large bed beneath him.  "Mike, do you think you could spend the night here?  I mean, it's a big bed, so it's not like we're going to touch or anything.  That is, if you think Gage wouldn't mind.  I promise I'm not going to try anything on you.  It's just that I'd like to have a friend in the same room with me tonight, rather than sleep alone."

I smiled.  My stiff Marine friend was practically babbling, getting his request out before he could change his mind.  He looked and sounded so cute!  He reminded me of a kid asking his older brother to spend the night with him after a nightmare or after he had been spanked.  The only thing was that kids were seldom "spanked" that hard.

"You aren't afraid I will take advantage of that cute exposed ass of yours, Marine?"

His eyes twinkled and he smirked mischievously.  "You can't take me in a fight, Mikey, even if you are taller."  Getting more serious, he added, "Besides, I trust you completely.  And you have better taste than to waste your time on a grunt."

Man, was he mistaken about that last point!  I couldn't imagine even a Marine being so dense!  Didn't he notice the boners I had all night?

"Don't underestimate yourself, kiddo!  I know some guys who would be on you in an instant if they could.  Now, I've got to visit the, uh, latrine.  I'll be back in a moment, Okay?"

"Okay," he smiled and sighed contentedly as I pulled a blanket over him.

I went to my own bathroom to pee and brush my teeth.  There were tears in my eyes as I thought about what I had done to my "little brother."  I grabbed a Kleenex and wiped them before returning to the guest room.  Even though he had dozed off, Jeff awoke the moment I entered the room.  This Marine was alert!  I crawled under the sheets, taking care to keep to my side of the bed.  To my surprise, Jeffie snuggled closer to me, though not touching me.  I reached out and rubbed his prickly high and tight before saying good-night.

To be continued