Spanked Into Submission

Spanked Into Submission-3

On of the women said, “You don’t think he’ll be arrested for indecent exposure, do you?” Sally responded that her boyfriend - the one that likes to lick her ass - wears one and says it’s okay as long as the genitals are completely covered.

“So, he didn’t get into trouble?”

“Well, they actually determined it was legal when his lawyer came to the jail and got the district attorney involved.”

Nancy said, “I can get him a lawyer if necessary.”

They immediately went to the beach bar where Bruce often met his conquests and where he met his waterloo. Bruce never felt so humiliated. Everyone did a double take at his near nakedness and then would notice the blisters on his ass cheeks. They would also notice he was standing, drinking a glass of milk with four women on bar stools drinking beer. Word quickly spread that the guy who had been spanked into submission was now back at the bar. Before long, friends and strangers were coming up to him and asking how he was doing, commenting on his blistered butt, and asking who his four female friends were. They were told Bruce was learning it was more important to please women than to constantly seek self-gratification. One female onlooker flicked her finger against Bruce’s metallic c**k saying, “Looks like no more self-gratification for bad boy.”

When the laughter died, Sally said, “He was even willing to lick out my ass without expecting anything in return.”

Bruce turned deeper and deeper shades of red and looked at the ground. When some engaged him in conversation, he was forced to look up and deal with his situation. “How much punishment was he getting?” “Did he want to change?” Some were sadistic and told him how much they were enjoying his stereo, motor scooter, etcetera.

When Jane heard a friend call him Bruce, she stepped forward and said, “His name is Bad Boy, and he belongs to me.” This brought on more questions, and Bruce admitted he was falling for Jane and wanted to please her.

After an hour, they went into the water, and Jane paraded Bruce up and down the beach, holding a thick rope tied loosely around his neck. Anyone who knew the old Bad Bruce could now see the new Bad Boy being reeducated. Ex-conquests stopped them and asked, “Is that you, Bruce?” Jane would then describe his new status while they examined and touched him and laughed at him. Bruce stood silently, looking at the ground. He was completely demoralized and knew his old life was gone forever.

That night, Jane asked Bruce if he’d like to go out with them, and he said yes but he had no clothes. This problem was solved with Nancy’s halter top and short shorts. The two guys went to a sports bar, leaving the six girls and Bruce to bar hop. There was much taunting and touching Bruce’s exposed skin that he had been made to keep shaved smooth.

They ran into Alex, who then joined them. Alex had a friend, Joe, who played guitar and sang in a popular bar. Joe had a talent for picking out individuals in the audience and spontaneously making up a song about them. Alex said Joe knew what had happened to Bruce and had a head start on composing a song for Bruce. They planned to hit that bar at prime time.

Jane and her friends took Bruce to a few bars, and he brought his hair down over his face and avoided being noticed. They allowed him to get away with this and enjoyed his anxiety, especially when guys would come up to put the make on one of the women. They allowed him one beer per bar and, toward midnight, went into the bar where Joe was singing. The place was packed and, since Jane brushed Bruce’s hair back, he was immediately recognized.

“Hey, there’s Bruce in short shorts and a halter top.”

Jane said, “His name is Bad Boy.”

When Joe heard this, he said, “I’m calling this, “The Ballad of Bad Bruce” and broke out with:

Bruce was the man who would slam bam, thank you ma’am.

Bad Bruce, bad, bad Bruce.

And he knew he was cool, with a hungry tool

Bad Bruce, bad, bad Bruce (motioning for audience participation)

Then he met cute Jane, but couldn’t say her name

Bad Bruce, bad, bad Bruce (from the crowd)

She was a really great catch, but was his very last snatch

Bad Bruce, bad, bad Bruce (louder from the crowd)

You see he made her cry, and her friends asked why

Bad Bruce, bad, bad Bruce

Now his ass is bruised, and his tool ain’t used

(Laughter) Bad Bruce, bad, bad Bruce

(Joe corrects) Poor, poor, bad boy Bruce

Now he’s just a boy, who has lost his toy

Poor, poor, bad boy Bruce

He had to face the crowd, and hear them laugh out loud

Poor, poor, bad boy Bruce

He had to take the pain; he had to feel the shame

Poor, poor, bad boy Bruce

Her friends took him away, and said he had to pay

Poor, poor, bad boy Bruce

They say he’s not the same; they say he’s now quite tame

Poor, poor, bad boy Bruce

As Joe strummed the final chord, a woman in the crowd yelled, “The guy was on the loose, but now they’ve cooked his goose.” The crowd roared in laughter, “Poor, poor, bad boy Bruce.”

Another woman: “His c**k was all the rage, but now it’s in a cage.” (All) “Poor, poor, bad boy Bruce.”

This continued until the lines got ridiculous and participation deteriorated into gales of drunken laughter.

Jane took off the Bruce’s halter-top during the performance and had him stand in front of the crowd wearing only the red short shorts, which matched the color of his face. Jane thanked Joe and said she thought his ballad should be recorded. It turned out someone had recorded the whole spontaneous performance. It was sure to be a hit, at least in south Texas.

As friends and strangers of both sexes came up to talk to Bruce, Jane returned to their table to drink with her friends. The song was requested twice more that night, and Jane had Bruce sit in a chair in the front of the small stage looking at his feet.

Back at the motel, a very humbled Bruce made the rounds on his knees, eating the p***y of four women and ending with stimulating Sally by licking her ass. He and Jane showered together, she helped him shave, and they went to bed. Jane played with his caged c**k and commented that she really liked being with him after extreme humiliation and degradation.

“You’re so limber and pliable, not just your c**k, but all over. When we first went out, you were so macho and controlled. Now you have nice muscles (squeezing his biceps), but your superiority is gone (pushing him onto his back, holding his hands astride his head and kissing him all over his face, neck, and chest).”

Bruce was so turned on; he moaned in agony and automatically began thrusting his pelvis into the air, bobbing Jane up and down on his stomach. This movement embarrassed him. He had wanted to ask her to unlock the cage but thought better of it, remembering her threat to add thirty days if he even mentioned that.

Noticing his indecisiveness, she said, “I also like the expression on your face. When I first noticed you on the beach, you had a sophisticated, ‘knowing’ smile, like ‘we’ll get to know each other, if you’re lucky’. That was okay, something of a challenge, like I couldn’t take you for granted. Now you’re smile is ingratiating and somewhat uncertain, even innocent and vulnerable. Speaking of expressions, I can tell you are ready to suck my juices some more,” as she moved up over his face.

Bruce suppressed his need for release and buried himself in his work, only coming up for air. After a solid day and night of being publicly displayed before his friends in the most humiliating manner imaginable, Bruce understood that he deserved nothing more than serving and servicing others. He was a bad boy who was being punished and the only important thing now was that he loved Jane and needed to please her.

A Painful Move

“I’ll never be able to face my friends on the beach or in Corpus again. I’ll never live this down; I’ll be the laughing stock of town.”

“I have the perfect solution. You can live with the ten of us girls in a large house just off campus.”

“Ten of you?”

“You could sleep in my room, but you would have the opportunity to develop your growing respect for women by taking orders from all of us.”

“All of you?”

“Well, you’re still making up for the way you treated me. You’re still not ready to lose that cage (flicking his tortured member with her thumb and finger).”

“I guess you’re right. I just want to make it up to you, to please you, and get my c**k back. I mean get your permission to touch it, you know?”

Sensing his confusion about what he has a right to expect, “You’ll have to earn it, and you’re a bad boy. Think you can do it?”

Before he could answer, she began gently pinching his n*****s, fondling his balls, and caressing his smooth, swarthy body telling him how beautiful and soft and pliable he was. The first time she applied the word pliable, he wasn’t sure he liked it. Now it sounded right. Everything she says sounds right, especially now as he drifts off to sleep, his face buried between her legs.

At 3 a.m., Bruce woke with a start. He was shaking and perspiring profusely. He was awakened by ten large, angry women who were yelling and pointing at him, and he was cowering, naked in the corner, utterly terrified. They all had ping-pong paddles, and somehow he knew they all wanted him to lick their asses. Even when he finally realized it was a dream, he couldn’t stop shaking. He lifted the covers slightly and slid out; thankful he hadn’t awakened Jane. He crept to the bathroom and dried off the sweat as his mind filled with the thought of becoming a s*x slave in a houseful of ten demanding women, and in a city where he didn’t know anyone.

Wrapping the towel around his waist, he crept back to the living room. He turned the doorknob carefully and slowly pulled…. RAA’jo, RAA’jo, RAA’jo, RAA’jo the alarm shrieked. Nancy had automatically set the alarm every night out of habit, and no one noticed. Bruce stood frozen with his hand still on the knob of the open door.

“Going somewhere, Bad Boy?” Jane asked as she ripped off his towel.

“Oh, no, I mean, not really…”

Just then, the two women from the next room knocked on the partially open door. They heard about Bad Boy and were interested in knowing what was going on. Two more couples came and a lively 3 a.m. discussion followed. The two men felt Bruce had been through enough and had learned his lesson. The eight women disagreed, saying that men don’t relinquish power easily and only complete training and re-education would insure that Bad Boy remained on the straight and narrow.

“Only a man would think he had learned this lesson.” The two men decided that they were really getting sleepy and retreated to bed.

Bruce stood quietly, feeling dismayed when his two defenders so easily abandoned his cause. Now that the women decided he should move in with Jane and her roommates, the discussion turned to keeping him ‘safe’ while they enjoyed their last day at the beach. Tie him up, guard him, and take him back to the beach… Sally came up with a solution that only her sadistic mind would come up with, and added, “And it will also help with his initial adjustment when we get to San Marcos.”

Bruce was very apprehensive, especially when he heard them agreeing with something Sally was saying in a persuasive tone. Jane fastened the stretch bar to Bruce’s wrists and neck, extending it to the max, while Nancy laid a beach towel across the bed. They laid him on his back and pulled him up toward the headboard so that his feet were just hanging over the foot of the bed. Jane then fastened the ankle stretch bar so Bruce’s feet were twelve inches apart and tied the bar to the bed frame. Bruce began sweating when he realized how immobilized he’d become and tried to sit up. Jane hopped on to the bed, straddled his stomach, and stuffed her panties in his mouth. He knew he was in for some painful punishment and could only look pleadingly into Jane’s eyes.