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From: See@signature.line (Y. Lee Coyote)
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Subject: Weekend with Dad (MM/M, age play, spank, shave, sex, con, public)
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The following story is fiction; just a fantasy. It contains M/M activities
including role/age playing, spanking, shaving, and sex. If such subjects are
offensive or uninteresting to you or if you are a minor (i.e., child) please
stop reading now. Remember that real people, unlike fictional characters, do
not a need to worry about STDs; please be careful in your *real* life.
This work is copyright by the author and commercial use is prohibited without
permission. Personal/private copies are permitted only if complete including
the copyright notice. The author would appreciate your comments -- both pro
and con, including constructive criticism, suggestions and where you saw this.
Please E-mail to: <YLeeCoyote@Juno.com>
Weekend with Dad
by
Y. Lee Coyote
>>Friday Afternoon
It had been a tough week. I had not been sure I would have the report ready by
five o'clock Friday but I did. Miraculously, it was done by three! I
personally put it into my boss' paws before *he* left for the weekend. I would
now have the weekend to play with Roger and not have to be a wage-slave doing
'catchup' to get that damn report on the boss' desk by eight o'clock on Monday
morning. It sure felt good that it was now the boss' problem. As soon as I
got back to my desk, I gave Roger the call for which he was hoping and waiting.
When he heard me say: "...signed, sealed and delivered...." he knew we would be
having fun soon.
"That's great Tom; I'll expect you here about seven for the weekend.
Everything OK at school?" he said, immediately shifting into his role playing.
And I responded to this with both a swelling in my pants and verbally.
"Copacetic, Pop, just copacetic." Then we both hung up. Just one more thing
to do to setup for tonight. I opened my attache case and found the diskette I
had optimistically prepared last night and stuck it into my PC. Then I dialed
up my private ISP (bypassing the company's own server), logged on and opened my
mail program. I quickly copied the prepared file into a new message and sent
it to Roger's personal account. I then put the disk away, deleted the sent
message and emptied the trash. It would not do to let the company snoops be
able to see what I had done. Roger would get it when he checked his e-mail
when he got home. My cock stirred again in my suit in a very nonprofessional
way as I though about what we would do later.
>>Friday Evening
When I got home, I immediately started my transformation from a
thirty-something professional man to a schoolboy. The 3-piece suit, the
wingtips and the tie all went into the closet and I went into the shower. Then
I shaved my face very close and dressed in a T-shirt with a rock band logo,
loose jeans and hightops. Wearing my old high school jacket and baseball cap
(reversed) I looked under twenty; not quite the high school boy, but close
enough. The clock in the hall struck indicating that it was time to go. I
grabbed my backpack to complete the image and dashed for the subway. Sure, I
could have taken the car but that wouldn't keep me in the mood. Now -- and for
the rest of the weekend -- I was a 17-year old high school junior of divorced
parents going to spend the weekend with my Dad. I hoped that Pop had thought
of some things fun to do. I must have been smiling very broadly based on the
looks that I was getting from the other passengers.
I let myself into Pop's place (my home for the weekend), dropped my pack in the
hall, threw my jacket at the hall chair, parked my ass in front of the MTV and
yelled "Hi, Pop, I'm home; when's dinner?"
A few minutes later Roger, err... Dad walked into the room and flipped off the
TV. Before I could start whining, Dad said: "Let's go, Tommy." Then as soon
as we got into the hall, he was on my case about my jacket and pack being on
the floor rather than in the closet. 'Oh, shit', I thought, 'it's going to be
one of *those* weekends.' Of course, the real me was still smiling in great
expectation.
Dad immediately sat down on the hall chair and quickly pulled me across his
lap. He then gave me ten hard spanks with his big hand on my seat. Because it
was over my jeans it really did not hurt but I knew I was in for it this
weekend. Dad was not allowing me any slack at all. I put my pack in the
closet where it belonged and we went to Dad's car. After a few minutes of
driving, Dad turned the car onto a residential street and stopped. One brief
toot on the horn and this 'kid' runs out. "Tom", Dad said, "*Cousin* Davy will
be with us until his parents return tomorrow evening."
Davy got into the rear of the car looking like a teacher's wuss pet in his
preppie clothes including a TIE! All he had to was swap his warm-up jacket for
his blazer and he would be dressed for his fancy-smancy prep school. "Good
evening, Uncle Roger. My parents told me to express their best wishes and
their thanks for your looking after me. Hi, Cousin Thomas." Dad hadn't told
me about this; I wondered what he was planning.
Dad took us to a small neighborhood restaurant where we were strangers and
could easily pass as a man with his kids. When Dad ordered a glass of wine I
chimed in with "Make that two, please." That got me a serious frown from Dad
and he got a quizzical look from the waiter. "Just kidding;" I said, hoping to
pacify Dad and continued: "I'll have pineapple juice, please." Dad didn't say
anything about that but I did not think he was going to forget it either. He
never does forget. We chatted pleasantly throughout dinner and Dad asked me
about school three fuckin' times. Of course, I told him that all was well;
great in fact. Davy, the show-off nerd, boasted of getting all A's and had
brought along a letter of commendation from his dean.
When we got home Dad took us both to the den and handed me a printout of an
e-mail. It was a letter from the 'vice-principal' to Dad telling him that I
had two unexplained absences and was in danger of failing history. "As I
recall, Thomas, we discussed this a month ago and you made some promises. What
do you have to say for yourself, young man?"
'Oh shit!' I thought; 'I'm going to get it and Davy is going to get to watch
the show.' "Dad, could we do this in private, please?"
"This IS private, son. Davy is family. He is your first cousin and close as a
brother to you. Now answer my question." Anticipation had caused Davy to be
wearing a grin that would put the Cheshire Cat to shame.
I thought back to the time Dad had referred to. In exchange for not being
grounded I had promised to work harder and not to skip school and, obviously, I
had not done so. Worse, I was caught! Past experience had taught me that the
less I said the better, so I just said "Nothing, Dad" in the meek voice of a
guilty and trapped boy.
"First, son, until you catch up in history you're grounded! I've already
spoken to your mother and she agreed. Second, for playing hooky -- twice --
you're going to get spanked -- twice -- tonight and tomorrow." I started to
interrupt to complain that I was too old to be spanked but Dad just held up his
hand in an unmistakable sign to shut the fuck up -- now! "As long as you act
like a irresponsible little boy, you will be spanked like one. Finally, for
lying like a little boy about how you were doing in school you are going to
look like a little boy again. Hopefully, growing up again will help you learn
to act like a responsible young man." I knew better than to open my mouth;
when Dad is like that, anything I say would be wrong. I just stood there
staring at the floor, waiting for Dad to act.
Dad walked over, sat on the couch and pulled me to his side. As he undid my
belt and jeans he asked if I understood why I was about to be spanked. I
nodded, grimly. He pulled down my jeans then my briefs. I was exposed
totally. I wished that we were alone. Dad had done this to me with others
around in the past and it is ever so more embarrassing. Of course, with 13
year old Davy, who is still in *middle school*, it was mortifying. Dad then
gently, but very firmly, pulled me over his lap. Resistance earns extra
strokes with the belt so I'm careful never to resist. Seconds later Dad's big
hand came was caressing my upturned bare bottom. Then that hand rose and came
crashing down -- fast and hard -- right in the center of my butt.
*SPANK*
*OUCH*
It hurt and I had to yelp but I resolved not to cry in front of Davy. Twelve
minutes and a thousand (well, it seemed like it) spanks later my butt was on
fire and I was beginning to lose my resolve not to cry when Dad stopped hitting
my red hot butt. I thought that it was over (at least for tonight) when Dad
told Davy to get him the PADDLE. I never saw Davy move that fast before.
Moments later the paddle was in Dad's hand and resting on my already burning
buns. Dad raised it up and brought it crashing down on me causing me to howl
with renewed vigor. And then, after five heavy whacks I crumbled and started
to cry. By the time Dad stopped, I was no longer concerned with my macho
image, but only with my painful bottom and I was fully bawling like a ten year
old sissy crybaby. Dad held me tightly for a few minutes trying to comfort me
before parking me in the corner. Then he and Davy watched some TV. I'm sure
that they spent a lot of time watching my hot red ass also.
Dad killed the TV and we all went off to shower. Davy and I took a shower
together while Dad used his own. Davy had grown since the last time I had seen
him. He now sported the a nice, but small, bush and a man-sized sword. I
guess that the days of taunting him about being hairless are just about over;
but not quite. I still had a big bushy growth of hair and boasted of it to
him. Davy, of course, razzed me about my spanking, hot red butt and crying
like a wee little kid. Worse, he even told me that old saw: "Pride goeth
before a fall" with a big shit-eating grin. I wondered what he knew or thought
he knew.
I soon found out. Dad called us into his room and asked me if I knew the
difference between a man and a boy. Then he explained that he was very, very
disappointed at the way I had behaved -- lying about school like a little boy
rather than facing up to it like a responsible young man should. The tag line
was that since I acted like a little boy I should look like one! He had me lie
down on his bed and asked Davy to get his hair clipper from the dresser. Davy
was very responsive and was back in two shakes of a lamb's tail. Then he asked
so every sweetly: "Please, Uncle Roger, may I do it?". Oh no, it was still
another horror about to happen. I prayed silently that Dad would say no. But
my prayers were not answered as I wished for Dad said: "Sure, just be careful,
Davy."
"Yes sir, Uncle Roger." the traitor replied happily as he advanced to my crotch
waving the insatiable clippers. He was having his own sweet revenge while
helping Dad punish me for lying. Buzz! went the clippers and Davy moved them
carefully over my pubes. Admittedly, the vibrations felt real good and my
shaft responded even though my thick, long pubic hairs were being sheared off
at their bases turning me back into a little boy. Davy even managed to use the
clipper as a vibrator to insure that I had a hardon as he did the terrible
deed. Of course, he griped my rod so that he could kept it out of the way of
the hungry clippers. What had taken years to grow into a great thicket was
quickly clear-cut in just a few brief minutes into just inconsequential
stubble. My shaft looked like the lone tree that survived the storm. It
betrayed me by standing tall and proud.
When Davy finally turned off the awful tool, Dad got a small plastic bag and he
put the cuttings into it. Then he handed the bag to Davy and said: "Here's a
souvenir for you." Davy beamed as he took the bag. Now not only didn't I have
my manly bush, but Davy had it as well as his own. I was sure that I was going
to regret teasing him about not having pubes.
Dad then dropped a hot wash cloth on to my clipped pubes and after a few
minutes replaced it with shaving cream. It was real nice and warm but it meant
that I would be hairless for a long time. Dad spent but five minutes with a
razor and my once hairy pubes were now as smooth and bare as the proverbial
baby's butt. Then Dad gave me another lecture and sent the two of us off to
bed. "Good night, Uncle Roger." said Davy and then "Come along little boy." to
me. And feeling just like a docile, punished naughty little boy -- bare,
smooth pubes and a hot red behind -- I went meekly along with Davy pulling me
with one hand and clutching his trophy in the other. I'll let you guess what
he was pulling me by.
Although, if truth be known, deep inside I knew that Davy had a trophy in each
hand. After what had happened, Davy would have everything his way this night.
I felt like a ten year boy with his older cousin who was the leader. Suddenly
I realized why. Deja vu had struck, for when I was really a boy and visiting
my Uncle's house I had been naughty and had gotten well spanked for it. Then
my older cousin took me to his bed rather than mine. That was a very happy
night. I hoped that the coming night would be as sweet.
Once in bed Dave wrapped his arms around me and hugged me tight. I could also
feel his hard rod pressing against my hot butt as he held me so very close. He
let his hand roam down to my bare crotch and gripped me there. Then he said:
"Timmy, you are such a naughty little boy. When are you going to learn to be
good so your Daddy doesn't have to spank you? I'll bet your little buns really
hurt now, don't they? And you still need to cry." With that he turned me
around to face him and slapped each of my sensitive already red-hot cheeks. I
started to cry again as he comforted me. A few minutes latter I was quiet
having found my 'pacifier'. As I sucked Dave's hard rod, my nose got ticked by
his bush. My problems with Dad and school faded from my mind as I happily
sucked my big cousin until he exploded into my mouth. It tasted so yummy that
I kept sucking in the hope that there would be more but that was not going to
be the case this night.
Dave had other ideas. He pulled me off his drained rod and pulled me up so
that he could give me a long hard French kiss accompanied by a great bear hug.
His hand then went down to my still hot butt and he started to play with it. I
loved how he caressed it and then started to play with the little rose bud in
the middle. Soon he had me on my tummy and was letting his once again hard rod
replace the finger tickling my anxious hole. After a squirt of lube I felt him
press forward. I let myself surrender and he thrust deep into my receptive
hole. As he did this my own rod strained between the sheet and my tummy but I
could not touch it as he was holding my wrists. Repeatedly, he drove his hard
shaft deep into my guts and pulled it out again. With each stroke he struck my
prostate and drove me wild. I exploded making a mess beneath myself before
Dave shot again this time filling my guts with another of his large loads.
He kissed my nape and rolled off to lie beside me. With one of his arms about
me we slipped happily into dreamland with my hot tush facing up.
>>Saturday morning
In the morning I was stuck in my room studying history while Dad caught up on
some paper work and Davy watched TV. That afternoon was much more fun. We
went to a Model Train show with more than 200 different exhibitors. There was
lots of great stuff, both new and old, which was the cause of my undoing. I
got very excited and consequently behaved badly -- shoving and grabbing things.
Dad warned me several times but I did not mind him as I should have. Even Davy
told me I better shape up -- pronto.
Well, trouble found me and struck. Dad suddenly grabbed me by the scruff of
the neck and started to lead me away saying: "You're in real trouble, young
man. I warned you several times already." The show did not fill the entire
convention space and Dad propelled me to the side of the hall which had been
cordoned off with some curtains. The area was filled with cartons and a few
chairs (surely for goldbricking workmen). Dad sat down on one of the chairs
and started to give me a lecture as a prologue to the inevitable spanking.
What I did not know at that time was how much of an audience we had. Later, I
learned from Davy that even before Dad had grabbed me and told me I was in deep
doo-doo, a couple of twelve year olds had been watching everything. He noted
that they immediately picked up what was happening and had decided to follow
just like a couple of news reporters. He also recounted that the two young
spies were even betting on whether I was going to get it with my jeans up or
down and that it would make a good story for the train club news.
Even before I saw the two kids lurking in the background, I was begging Dad not
to spank me here (at the show) but to please, please wait until we got home.
Dad reminded me that I already had a strapping scheduled for this evening and
that there is no time like the present. With that wonderful bit of wisdom
said, Dad started to undo my belt and fly in preparation to pulling down my
jeans. Then two kids started to giggle loud enough that Dad heard them. One
of them said: "I told ya -- he's going to get it on his bare ass."
I turned crimson red when Dad spoke, "Well, since you're here kids come see
what happens to a very naughty little boy up close." as he pulled my jeans down
to my knees. And come they did! Then Dad put my fate into the hands of those
two kids by asking them if he should pull my briefs down.
The first one answered instantly. "My Pop always does me on the bare. Says
that it is more effective that way; DOWN!" He said it very emphatically with a
giggle, a big ear-to-ear smirk and a growing bulge in his jeans. After all,
what did *he* have to lose? It wasn't his ass on the line. The second one was
more reserved and required a nudge from the first. "Come on, Rex, tell how you
get it."
"Mom always does me on the bare too. Dad leaves my panties on if I'm wearing a
dress but pulls them down if I'm in jeans, just like my brother *always* gets
it. I say BARE!" This was even worse than I first thought it could be. Not
only did I have a young audience but one of them was a girl (albeit a tomboy).
Dad stuck his thumbs into the waist band of my briefs which he jerked down to
my knees so that the two kids could see everything including that my crotch was
hairless. Then Rex said: "He looks old enough to have hair there." Dave
explained to the kids that since I had been behaving like a naughty *little*
boy I had lost my hair so that I would look like a little boy until I behaved
as a big boy should. The kids laughed at that as I blushed all over. My
cousin can be so fuckin' helpful at times.
By this time, Dad had me over his lap and was beginning to spank me. As usual
it was a hard spanking even though he was just using his hand. I was already
red from blushing but Dad made sure that the red would persist much longer. It
did not take long for me to howl, cry and promise to be good. The boy took a
few pictures of me getting spanked. He told Rex that a picture would really
enhance the story. This, of course, I did not know at the time nor did Dad.
When Dad decided that I had enough, he made me stand with my hot red butt
hanging out with my nose pushed into the corner formed by a column and the
wall. And again the kid took a picture. Fortunately, there was enough noise
from the show that we were not heard and did not get any more of an audience.
After that we finished the show and I was a much more polite little boy.
When we left, the two kids were waiting for their ride home and saw us. As we
passed them, Rex asked: "How's your ass feel, *little* boy." I turned red
again and kept going. They then went into hysterics.
We dropped Davy off at his house on the way home. Along with his good byes,
Davy invited me to visit with him Sunday afternoon.
>>Saturday Evening
After dinner Dad told me to get *IT* and bring *IT* to his den for the three
way discussion about skipping school a second time. With just a simple "Yes,
Sir" I dutifully went to get grandpa's razor strop. I had learned (painfully)
that any attempt at "discussion" was guaranteed to assure additional strokes.
I knew what ever Dad planned for me, would be more than I wanted without any
extras. After the mandatory lecture Dad had me strip and bend over his desk.
While I gripped the sides very tightly, Dad got into position and then let me
have the first stroke.
*WHAP* went the heavy, flexible strap driven with Dad's full force against my
waiting, naked, vulnerable butt . I answered it with a scream as the searing
pain shot through my body. I wanted to beg Dad to stop but I knew each word
would cause an extra stroke. I bit my tongue as I waited for the next blow.
It was not long in coming. This one was across the bottom part of my painful
buns whereas the first had been right across the middle. The third one was
across the top. Later Dad told me that I looked like I was wearing red striped
briefs. The fourth one was the worst. It hit in the tender space where thigh
and butt join. I really howled for that one.
Dad repeated the whole sequence and I responded appropriately. By the end I
was one very sorry, but horny boy with a crimson hot ass, a tear streaked face
and a very hard wee-wee. Dad held me in a very tight bear hug and told me he
was sorry that he had to whip me like he had, but I must learn not to skip
school. He went further and called it "tough love". I called it a very hot
burning butt.
After our showers, Dad let me get into his big bed and rubbed some cooling and
soothing cream on my unhappy ass. It did not take long before he was also
massaging the inside parts just as nicely. As with Dave, Dad's fucking was
very exciting and I again made a mess on the sheets. Dad was careful to make
his discharge in me and not make a mess. I slept on my tummy for the second
night in a row.
>>Sunday Morning
We stayed in bed the whole morning for which Dad said I was a naughty boy and
spanked me. But this was just a gentle playful spanking that just kept the
both of us horny for some more fucking and sucking. And even more SPANKING.
But all good things must end. Dad had to catch an afternoon plane so right
after lunch he dropped me off at Davy's place on his way to the airport.
>>Sunday Afternoon
Uncle Harry let me in and sent me up to Davy's room just as the phone rang.
Davy and I were examining the kewl stuff he had gotten at the Train Show, when
Uncle Harry stormed in. Uncle Harry was very angry. The phone call had been
from Mrs. Whiffle-Bottom the third, the president of the PTA at Davy's school.
There had been reports of marijuana being used.
"David, have you been involved with any of that posion?" demanded Uncle Harry.
Davy was quick to deny any involvement or use. Uncle Harry continued that
several boys had stated that Davy had been their supplier and then picked up
Davy's backpack. David turned very pale as his father examined the contents.
There were several small bags of the forbidden grass inside of a larger bag.
It was clear that Davy was both a supplier and a liar. "You know what this
means, young man?"
"Yes, Dad," said Davy in a very small voice and staring, "I'm going to get
strapped."
"Indeed! Get your ass down to the basement and get into position NOW. Tom,
you help him. I'll be down presently." roared Uncle Harry.
Dave and I went down to the basement immediately. Uncle Harry was very strict
about punishment. In the basement Davy quickly stripped and got into position
on the old vaulting horse they had. I looked at the cuffs attached to the
horse and then asked Davy. "Your Dad's pretty mad and is really going to give
it to you hard. You want the cuffs on so you won't move." I knelt down and
started to attach them even as Davy made weak verbal objections. However, he
did not resist and actually put his limbs into position so that I could fasten
the four cuffs easily. Uncle Harry was known for his severe strapping. Moving
earned extra.
Uncle Harry entered and took the strop from the wall hook and, without a word,
started to beat my helpless cousin. The strop was raised and brought down hard
some twenty-five times. Each and every WHACK of the strop smashing into Davy's
butt was followed by a howl from him; most of them through his cries. When he
was done, Uncle Harry said simply: "Better stay away from drugs or you won't
sit from a month, boy." Then he handed me a barber clipper and said: "Make sure
that he's clean before he comes back upstairs." and left.
Davy's butt was in bad shape but I found it irresistible. Every since the
first whack of the strop my cock had been pressing against my jeans. I swapped
the chipper for the lube and, as I opened my fly, approached my restrained
objective. I coated my sword with some goop and also put some on the primary
objective itself which was surrounded by two flaming hot buns. I positioned
myself at the ungaurded guarded entrance and drove forward. There was not any
resistance and my weapon immediately was completely sunk into its objective.
As I thrust in and out, Davy responded with cries of "Fuck me harder, Tom." I
was a real nice guy and waited until Davy came before I allowed myself to
explode into his very hot ass.
After I released Davy, I held him for a while and he thanked me for the great
fuck. Then, before we went upstairs, I got the clippers and I quickly removed
his pubes just as he had done to mine less than two days earlier. It was such
sweet revenge. He knew that if he resisted then Uncle Harry would clip his
head and he did not like that at all.
When we got upstairs, Davy (still naked) promised his Dad that he would never
play with drugs again. Uncle Harry just pointed to the corner and Davy
dutifully went there.
Uncle Harry indicated that since Davy was going to have a lot of corner time, I
should leave and go home.
I had a great weekend with Dad, Uncle Harry and Davy. I hope we can get
together again real soon. As I rode the subway to my house, my mind started
thinking up ideas for the next time. Perhaps Davy and I could be a runaway
waifs -- hungry and dirty -- and ripe for being picked up by a generous and
kind gentleman with a nice warm pad and a full refrigerator to share. And
having nothing but the most 'honorable' intentions.
The End
Comments to: YLeeCoyote@Juno.com
© Copyright A.I.L. February 20, 1998
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