Spankin Younger Brother

By Pete Marenga (Dom R)

Published on Jul 1, 2023

Gay

SPANKIN' YOUNGER BROTHER - Chapter 6 - "Pain!" ______________________________________________

Copyright (c) 2003 by Pete Marenga

Win Pete's 10th grade gym shorts! WRITE TO PETE AT: Dom6789@hotmail.com Mention 'SPANK' story, or I'll be confused. (Ok, you really won't win, but write, ok?) ________________________________________________________________

The brothers are: Pete, 17 and Todd, 14. ________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER 6 _________________________________________________

In this chapter:

"AHHHH! It hurts----oh, God,

it hurts!! Please, please STOP!" _________________________________________________

I dug my teeth a little harder into young Shawn's dick, and kept gliding up and down the hard, little thing. Actually it was a pretty big thing--it looked to be a healthy 5 inches. Whatever the exact measurement, I'd seen enough 13 year-olds to know Shawn's dick was well above average.

"Uhhohhhgghhh," Shawn moaned so sensuously.

It was driving me crazy to be in a chastity belt, which made me keep my gym shorts on. The things I suddenly wanted to do to this kid made me feel guilty, but then again I had feeling I could make Shawn like it, if I played my cards right.

I felt like I was getting drunk on Shawn's dick. The noises Shawn was making, and the way he moved his hips sure made it seem like he'd never had a blow job before. I thought that was possible since he was only 13 years old, even though a tall 13.

"Oh, Pete! Urrrrghhhh--"

Shawn tried to tell me he was cumming, but it didn't matter that it came out garbled. I wanted to drink down as much of the sweet-looking kid's stuff as I could, and I did--pulling him toward me as he came, to let him know I wanted his cum in my mouth.

I yanked down on his balls and he cried in pain, but came even harder. Five big pulses shot to the back of my throat--five hard-driven streams of boycum that probably would've hit the ceiling. Then, three smaller ones bathed my tongue--and Shawn, normally a firm, athletic 13-year-old, lay limp, with my arms wrapped around him.

Shawn had filled my mouth incredibly well, and I cherished the taste of him, lingering on my tongue. I wanted Shawn. I wanted him because he adored me openly, in the way I cared for him, secretly. And Shawn seemed to be at least somewhat willing to indulge my taste for integrating pain with his pleasure-- either for my sake, or possibly that he had a little of the masochist in him, which was a little too much to hope for, but I still hoped. His rapid breathing brought me out of my reverie, and intensified my boner.

I always thought it was cool to hear a guy out of breath, but with Shawn trying to catch his breath, it was pure sensual arousal, for me. I had to admit the boy's beauty and innocent ways defined the sexual side of breaths and body language--and I'm sure he wasn't aware of it.

"I don't think that stuff is stored in here, but we'd better take a look for ourselves . . . "

I heard voices at some distance--probably outside the door of the room we were in, and maybe down the hall a few yards. It sounded like teachers and I panicked. I whispered to Shawn, "There's another door," and headed toward the back of the room.

"Ok," Shawn said, white-faced, following.

The door I was planning on using to make our exit was blocked by what looked like a huge billboard on its side. Somehow, Shawn found a portion of the bottom skirting that was hinged, and we made our way under the billboard and through our exit door before the intruders entered to room. It was fairly dark on the other side of the door, which I closed without making a sound.

"That thing you did to my balls--it hurt, but I liked it."

"Good boy," I said, searching his eyes in the dim light for clues of good or bad reaction to the word, 'boy,' and trying to assess exactly how much he really 'liked it' if at all.

"Um, have you ever gone through this door before?" Shawn asked, looking around doubtfully. By this time our eyes were adjusting to the semi-dark. We were both out of breath, leaning with our backs against a damp wall.

"Not really," I said, unafraid to reveal to him that I had no clue exactly where we were or how to get back to the locker room.

"I don't care," Shawn said with abandon.

"Really? My kind of guy." This told me he easily put himself in my hands, and could care less about anything else, at least for the moment.

We both turned to each other and smiled. Shawn's hand went to my leg, just under my balls, and I had to push it away, sliding it up to my shoulder--to be sure he wouldn't actually make contact and find out I was wearing a chastity belt.

My hand seemed to go automatically to Shawn's chest. It suddenly occurred to me that we'd gotten very physically comfortable with each other in a short time. The next thing Shawn said blew all my fuses.

"It's like I've known you forever," the cute, thin boy said, with a charming smile on his face--a smile that said this was all new territory to Shawn. He was thin, but athletically thin, not skinny. Just for an instant, his eyes expressed puzzlement over why I moved his hand, but he accepted what I'd done without complaint.

I was seeing Todd's captivating eyes in this taller, cuter, blue-eyed blonde boy. But in Shawn I was starting to see a boy that I cared for almost as much as I did my brother.

"Yeah," I said, trying to find my voice.

"You're still hard," Shawn said, staring at the bulge of the metal cage--which he thought was my dick. The boy was looking at me like I was some kind of god that he'd been praying for-- praying to meet and make contact.

Shawn's obvious admiration of me, his attraction to me, his innocence--coupled with our growing familiarity with each other-- were like liquor in their combined effect. They made me feel drunk with power. "Yeah, you make me hard," I said.

"Wow," Shawn said quietly, his slight blush adding to his appearance of humility, submissiveness, and obedience.

"I feel I know you because I think of you as a younger brother," I said to him, "and that makes me wanna spank you." It was a brazen thing to say--but I figured, what the hell, why not be as demanding as possible, up front. I had smiled genuinely, as I said it.

"Hmm," Shawn said wistfully, "I wish I HAD an older brother. I'd do stuff for him. I'd even let him spank me, or whatever."

The spanking sounded good, but the 'whatever' made my bone vibrate. "Do you have a younger brother?"

"Nope. I'm it. An only child."

"Well," I said, my lower lip finding the space between his two luscious ones, "bend over, boy. It's time you were spanked."

By this time, Shawn was weak-kneed at the lip-contact, and the mood I was setting. He stopped at the end of the nearest bench and bent over.

Not to question a hot, young guy who bends over, naked, to let me spank him, I took a backswing and hit his two little buttcheeks, full force with my hand. "SMACK! SMACK!! WHAPPPP!!!"

"Oh, ow, OW!!"

"You're lucky, Shawn," I said smiling, "We're outta time, or else you'd get more spanking."

"Aww, shame," he said, rubbing his red butt aggrievedly, and looking cute as hell, "maybe tomorrow."

I was so excited, I couldn't tell if he was fooling around or not. "Yeah, Shawn--who knows. Maybe tomorrow." I could tell he was looking at my 'bulge' again.

"Damn, Pete--you must have the hardon from hell!"

"Told ya, you make me hard."

Shawn blushed with such youthful innocence--it was obvious he'd never had anyone say that to him.

"Are you getting blue balls?" he said, with genuine care and fear in his eyes.

"How do you know about blue balls? You're too young to get that."

"I read," he said.

"Web sites?"

"A few. Mostly books--a sex encyclopedia my dad must have forgotten about. I found it in the attic. I go up there and read. I never had 'em, but I don't think I'm too young," Shawn asserted.

I could see in his eyes, and his blush, that he thought better of what he'd said, and that maybe he'd been too forward with me. I smiled to counteract his possible negative feeling.

"Yeah, I got blue balls, Shawn. Just don't touch me there, at least not for now." I thought I would die with pleasure when Shawn gulped and looked down, ashamed.

"I'm sorry, Pete. I'm sorry you hurt. Did I hurt you? I--"

With all that had happened with Shawn in the last few minutes, all my inhibitions were down. "What you OUGHT to do," I said--suddenly leaning directly over him, as if I were going to do pushups over him, on the wall--"is bend over and let me fuck the hell out of you, so I can blow and get rid of this pain."

"Oh, God," Shawn said, beginning to sweat, obviously aroused at what he'd just heard, yet with some fear involved.

This was going to be fun--making him sweat--in spite of the fact that I wasn't able to fuck at that time because of the chastity belt. Of course, he had no way of knowing that.

Shawn's innocent expression faded. His eyes widened in sorrow and fear. "I'm sorry, Pete. I never--I never did that. I mean . . . never was fucked. I don't know how."

"That's ok. But, you mean, you'd do that--just DO it, without knowing what it feels like, or anything--just for ME?" I was stunned. I was half meaning what I said, and half learning better how to manipulate Shawn. Of course, now that I was getting to see that this little beauty had a big submissive streak, I could see that manipulating him would be easy.

Shawn nodded with almost a pained look. He was admitting a lot with that nod--extreme submissiveness; a huge need to please me, even at his own expense; willingness to put himself in danger to accomplish those self-sacrificing goals. He put his hand over his mouth, displaying some degree of doubt that he should have said what he did.

I took his hand away. I dropped my head to his, tonguing him the moment my lips fell on his. From the sudden heat of Shawn's body, I'd say he had an instant, all-over blush. Breaking the kiss, I said, "Shawn--I love that you would do that for me." I would give to Shawn what I would withhold from Todd--and hope that I could ultimately give Shawn the pain and spankings I wouldn't be able to give to Todd.

Shawn's knees gave out, and I grabbed and held him, just in time. "Please, can you let me down to my knees?" he said humbly.

I did, and Shawn was down on all fours, fidgeting expectantly. "Shawn--that's good that you would do that for me. I want you to do things for me--a lot of different things."

"Pete, I'd do anything you--"

"Yeah," I said grinning, "that makes you--makes me wanna fuck you. But we need lube, and don't have any. I'll call you around eight, tonight," I said, knowing we had no time left, now. "Be ready for me and bring the lube."

"Where?"

"I'll tell you tonight."

"What kind of lube?"

"Don't go buying anything. Just whatever you have--hand lotion or some Vaseline, KY--stuff like that." That's all I needed was him to get caught buying Vaseline, or something.

"Ok. But--I'm still naked and we gotta find our lockers."

"We will, don't worry, boy." I watched Shawn to see how he'd react to the word, 'boy.' I was halfway expecting him to say, 'yes, sir,' but he didn't. In spite of that, I now felt I had real power over Shawn, and I was about to try it out.

"Ok, I won't worry," he said with a wide, trusting smile.

Then the warning bell rang. "Fuck! Let's find our lockers," I said, as Shawn pulled away.

"Your balls . . . I'm sorry Pete--very sorry," Shawn's soft, sincere voice said.

"It's ok--I've had blue balls all day."

Shawn looked pained, hearing that. "What can I DO, Pete?! I've got to do SOMETHING to help you, even if it makes me late for class."

Shawn's sincerity gave me a brilliant idea, even though it would take some time. "I know what would make me feel better."

"What?"

"Share my pain," I said with feigned love and passion in my voice. I sounded corny to me, but I had a feeling the kid would go for it.

The enchanting, blushing boy was genuinely confused. He looked up at me so sweetly. "What--how do I do that?"

"Nah, you probably won't want to do it."

"No! No, PLEASE, Pete--whatever it is LET me!"

"It's too severe. You wont want to go through with it," I said, in disbelief that a) I was saying this, and b) that this little ploy was actually working.

"Please, PLEASE, Pete! Tell me! I'll do anything for you."

"Ok," I said casually, "Here's how it works: I hit your balls with my knuckles until you have my pain."

Shawn looked mildly shocked. I assume he was VERY shocked, but hid it well. Besides, he still had about three-quarters of a hardon. "W-well--"

"I knew it," I said, hoping my acting wasn't too bad. It's too severe for even--"

"No it's NOT," Shawn said bravely, grabbing his nuts like a little sack of potatoes and giving me full access. "Go ahead," he said, his eyes fearful--but bravely, mysteriously eager to do what he felt duty-bound to do for me. I'd heard of strange bonding, but this was really something! Not that I was complaining.

I looked right into the boy's eyes, which went from soft to hard--from fear to bravery.

"Look," I said, not wanting to give him hard core pain so soon in our relationship, and definitely not wanting to hurt him in any real way, "ball pain is pretty rough stuff. Are you sure you want it?"

Shawn's response was a tired nod, and a very frustrated exhaling of breath. That was all I needed to go ahead, and let him have it.

"Phhhhwhipppp!" I had held his nuts in one hand, and was slapping a finger from my other hand down on Shawn's sweet little balls.

"Phhhwipp! "Phhhwipp! "Phhhwipp!

Shawn vocalized each time--a painful but restrained groan. I didn't think I could have taken the pain as well at his age, enduring a hit in the nuts that way. Was I kidding? I couldn't imagine myself in such a weird situation as this--letting an older student whack me in the nuts--at his age or any other age. I could hardly believe this was all happening, myself.

"PHHHWWIIPPPPPP!"

"Awwrrrrrgghhhhh!!" the boy yelled in genuine anguish.

I looked up at Shawn's cute face just as the pained look of suffering slowly morphed to a smile. A SMILE! This kid was unreal. "How'd you like THAT, boy?"

It was clear that Shawn couldn't talk. He was in a weird state of pleasure and pain--and it looked like pleasure won out. He just kept smiling, nodded absently, and breathed hard. I suddenly had a dream of Shawn and Todd, tied up, at my mercy; maybe even forcing them to do things to each other. I toyed with that scene while I rubbed Shawn's chest, and let him recover.

After a few minutes, I took him up a small set of stairs that led to the boiler room. From there, we easily got to the locker area, undetected. As Shawn looked right at me, I could see a blush on his face, as if he were embarrassed by his own thoughts.

"Pete--I was wondering why you stayed--I mean you kept your clothes on the whole--"

"You wanted to see me naked again?"

"Well, yeah."

"I want that too, Shawn. It's just that . . . I was proving something to myself, today. Do you understand?" It was a lie, so I knew there was no way for him to understand. And I wanted to see if by being very assertive, I could push him into not asking what it was I was trying to prove.

"Yeah, I understand," Shawn said confidently. He had an innocent, good-nature about him that made me throb.

We just threw on our clothes--in my case, over my bulging gym shorts--and somehow made it to our next class, in time.


After school I was again surprised to see Todd waiting for my bus. Usually he took an earlier bus.

Todd, my sexy-looking, fourteen-year-old brother, whom I'd recently had my first sex with, (and whom I'd also recently dominated and spanked), now took on an ominous air in my mind, because he had turned the tables and began to dominate me-- including imparting to me (his UNlucky big brother) a too-large share of pain and suffering. Problem was, I couldn't stop loving him, (and, deep down, wanting him). As a seventeen-year-old, I was in a very embarrassing and humiliating position with Todd.

"Hi Pete. Where'd you go during gym?" Todd asked, as I approached. He'd given me a forged excuse note to get me out of gym--and the coach assumed it was written by my dad--so I'd been free to do more or less whatever, during the gym period today. Todd did this, not out of kindness, but out of necessity--that neither classmates nor coach discover the chastity belt, and get Todd in trouble.

"Waited till my class was going strong, then just took a long shower. The warm water felt so good--it made me come." I knew he hadn't wanted me to come, but I figured as long as he was going to whip me, or worse, I might as well lie and have the satisfaction of knowing that I really pissed him off. I wasn't yet in a position or brave enough to tell him that I'd met with this incredibly cute thirteen-year-old, who apparently thinks I walk on water, and I sucked him off.

"So you came already?" Todd asked

"Yes. I guess I need to be punished, sir." I'd always hated lying to Todd. Now I found it exciting.

"Punished? Yeah, you got that right, Petey BOY!" Todd whispered, as the bus pulled up. He knew that I hated being called 'BOY' or referred to as, 'Petey,' but somehow it didn't bother me today.

We rode the bus home in silence, but I could tell Todd was playing with the remote control, making the thing squeeze my balls--just enough to hurt uncomfortably.

"Ahh!" I said softly, trying not to give in to the pain.

"Oh--poor big bro," Todd said, "do you have that nasty mysterious pain in your nuts again? Poor, poor Petey." We had both read a selection of s&m web sites--some really good ones, with master's rules for slaves; some pretty nasty ones showing how to cause phenomenal pain without damaging.

The main thing about Todd's ability to control me was the unique chastity belt that I was (unwillingly) wearing. Besides making it impossible to have sexual pleasure or cum, it also pierced your dick with ultra-fine needles, if you tried to force the damn thing off. But the worst part of this diabolical chastity belt was the ball squeezing feature--a small pouchlike structure that squeezed your nuts, and was activated by remote, which could vary the pressure, or turn it off, altogether.

Once we were home, Todd cranked up the pressure.

"Ahhrrrrgghhh!" I yelled, doubled over in pain.

"Come on Petey boy--act like a big brother," Todd said demeaningly. Besides electronically turning up the pain in my nuts, he also hit the chastity belt with a book, making waves of extra excruciating pulses for me.

"AHHHHHHH!!! Ohhhhhhhhfffff!"

"Act like you're seventeen in front of your fourteen-year-old brother! Take it like a man! Walk upstairs to your room--your room of pain, that is."

It was bad, walking up those stairs. Every move of my legs seemed to put a ton of pressure on my balls. I decided that if I exaggerated the pain, I might throw my brother off.

"Come on, strip! Hurry up Petey--the sooner you get naked, the sooner I can take this chastity belt off you," Todd said, flashing the key in front of my face, teasing me. I knew he wanted it off so he could slap my cock with something--a type of pain you never want to feel.

Todd turned up the pressure on my nuts, then put the remote and key down on the bed, giving his hands free rein to torture me. "Now see?" he said, pointing to the symbols of my freedom, "If you're nice, you get a little break, boy!"

With a swift hand to his neck, I flipped Todd onto the bed and pinned him. I used a sheet as if it were a large rope, tied it tightly, immobilizing the top half of him. I grabbed the remote and the key, turned off the ball squeezer, and unlocked the torturous chastity belt. I was finally free of the thing. Now, I had the upper hand again, and this time I wasn't about to lose it. "Oh, you're gonna scream, little boy. Oh yeah!" I said to Todd.

"Murrfforrrggodddd!"

I could tell by that response, Todd was scared as hell.

It was rough getting his pants and underwear off, but I managed. Then I tied his feet together, and took off his socks and shoes. After getting Todd out of the sheet and stripping his upper body--fighting his arms the whole time--I finally finished restraining him. I was overjoyed!

"Well, well, if it isn't the REAL little boy!" I said, slipping the chastity belt over Todd's slightly smaller cock and balls.

Todd turned pale. Fear began to replace the false confidence in his eyes.

I thought, 'His nuts may be smaller, but they won't hurt any less when the squeezer goes into action.' I checked his neck, where I'd grabbed him to bring him down, to make sure I hadn't really hurt him.

There they were again--the two opposites coming together: Wanting to make Todd scream with pain, and wanting to make sure I don't damage him.

I left him for a moment, and returned with a mixture of rubbing alcohol and nail polish remover, and poured it over his cock and balls.

"Pete don't be stupid," Todd said in desperation, his voice cracking for the first time--as I snapped the locks shut on the chastity belt. I could tell the liquid mixture began to burn. His tumultuous scream was music to my ears.

"Oh, I promise you, little brother, I won't be stupid. I'll be very smart, and very slow, bringing you into the world of agonizing pain," I said, as I turned up the remote. "And aren't you lucky--dad works the rest of the night!" I turned the pressure up, more--bit by bit.

Almost instantly, Todd thrashed about on the bed. He was biting his lips to avoid crying out, but the whimpering through his lips and teeth told me he was definitely hurting.

"What luck!" I said, looking right into my brother's pained, soulful eyes. "I must've found the right setting on the first try. I'm happy for you, little bro. I'll, uh--let you rest for a bit, while I go get a little snack."

As I said that, I turned the power rapidly up and down on the remote. This caused Todd to twitch and squirm on the bed. I was giving him quite a workout.

"Oh, God! Oh fuck! AHH!!"

"Sorry, bro, I can't take you with me for a snack--no food while exercising." After making sure I had both the key and the remote safely in my pocket, I left the room, took a pee, and went to the kitchen.

I took my sweet time eating. I looked around the kitchen idly, and spotted the wooden spoon, hanging on a rack, near the stove. I remembered the times mom would hit us with that--and how it hurt! Naturally, this gave me ideas on how to use it with Todd. Before, I'd wanted to hear him scream, but I had big limits on how far I would go, hurting him. Now, I wanted to go all out --as far as I could without damaging.

Inspired by the wooden spoon idea, I rushed back to the bedroom and went to work. I had grabbed some thick yarn, on the way. This, I wrapped around Todd's boyish nut sack, to make the balls pull downward in their sack, which made them much more accessible--a perfect target.

"Hey, you remember the wooden spoon, Todd?" I asked with feigned enthusiasm, "Well, I've found a new use for it: Ball thumping. It works like this," I said, swinging the spoon wildly at Todd's nuts.

"Thwaaappp!"

"Oh, GOD! AHH! Oh, FUCK! Owwwwww!"

"Oh--I'm so sorry, sweet little brother boy. I didn't mean to let the edge of the spoon hit you. I meant to get both your nice little nuts on-center, like this!"

"WHAAAAPPPPPPPPPP!"

"AHHHH! It hurts----oh, God, it hurts!! Please, please STOP!"

"Gee, Todd--you must not have seen the purple site. That's the one where they showed the old schools, where some of the boys got frequent ball beatings. Hmm! Funny how you missed that. Actually, by the time I get done with you, you'll know all about it. Oh, and I haven't used my full force, Todd. I wouldn't want to rush the fun!"

"Oh, God! Pete--PLEASE!"

"You're gonna scream SO NICE! I'm gonna show you how to hit some new notes you never hit before. So relax, Todd!"

"SMAACCKKKKKKK!!"

"Yeeeeeaaaaarrrrrrrggggghhhh!"

My little bother was screaming, and I was happy--almost. It just wasn't the right scream--the scream I wanted to hear. I would go back to the ball beating. But now, it was time to cane him. I brought out the cane dad kept--a bundle of rough-looking bamboo, it's multiple shafts of pain-inflicting cylinders made quite an impression on my little brother, as I swung the dreaded thing through the air.

"What's that?" Todd asked nervously.

"A cane--a real one. This will sting badly," I said. I knew that Todd had read all about canes and caning at the sites he had visited--the ones he'd found on my computer! "It will hurt and make you scream for mercy, like nothing else," I continued, swinging the cane through the air.

"Pete! No--wait!"

"I'm not waiting, Todd. I'm going to cane you. Then I'll go back to beating your balls. Then I'll cane you some more. Then maybe you'll go back to being a real, nice, obedient little brother. We'll see. I'm in control of your life now. But I promise you, you'll never be bored with just one thing--one sensation."

"Oh, God . . . Pete! Please!" Todd's fearful talking and squirming were very satisfying.

"Don't you see how considerate I am, little bro? All baby brothers should get such good treatment from their big brothers. You should thank me, Todd. Tonight, you're gonna scream for me. You're gonna scream for me--REAL good!"

I began to tie my little brother, bent over the bed.

Please write me at Dom6789@hotmail.com. I'm dying to write the next chapter, but I'd really love your feedback, first. :-)

Please mention, 'SPANKING' or I'll be real confused, because I have another story whose comments go to the same email address.

--Thanks, Pete.

I know it's monotonous, but I'll keep posting this notice at the end of a chapter--hoping you'll all write me a note. :-) WRYTE A NOWT. (You can even call me 'Petey' if you really must.)

Dom6789@hotmail.com

MORE EMAILS, PLEASE. HELP. I'M STARTING TO RUN OUT OF STEAM. MY EYES ARE BLURRING, AND MY FINGERS ARE WEAKENING. --> Don't let this tragedy happen! Write to Pete. <--

dom6789@hotmail.com

THE OTHER STORY: hot-younger-brother

__________ EMAIL STUFF __________

IF YOU DON'T WANT YOUR EMAIL ACKNOWLEDGED HERE, JUST SAY SO.

(ID'S ARE ABBREVIATED FOR PRIVACY)

David (da_): Glad to hear you like. What you asked about is

custom-made and (I THINK) not commercially

available. Thanks for taking time to put in your

positive vote for 'spankin.'

Jim: I agree. Glad you like, thanks.

Kirk: No, Todd is more like an angry little boy. More on that

as the story unfolds.

Russ: Sorry--a friend custom-makes them.

Pete Marenga: dom6789@hotmail.com

Next: Chapter 7


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