I got a request to do a visiting young man meets older man in the City with takeout. The following fictional story is the result. It contains scenes of spanking, shaving and sex. If such subjects are offensive, uninteresting or if you are a minor (i.e., child) please leave now. This story has five parts which are in three files
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Tom was staring at him. T-Rex is very imposing. He is some five meters high, mouth agape and seeming to be running directly at you. He looks just like a giant roadrunner stripped to the bare bones and held together by shear willpower. Tom, a native New Yorker, remembered how Rex used to be when he was a kid. Until the recent museum renovation of the dinosaurs exhibit, he was more like a skinned puppy – begging and lifeless. But now Tom felt like food, er, like he WAS food. Food that was too terrified to run for safety from the huge hungry carnivorous lizard.
Kris was a visitor. This was his free day on his business trip; his first to the Big Apple: New York, New York! He was just absolutely thrilled at all the fossils. They are more than ninety percent REAL – not merely casts of stuff in other museums or paleontologists concocted beasts – but the real McCoy. He came down from behind the apatosaurus (formally the brontosaurus) and mesmerized by T-Rex immediately crashed directly into Tom.
Tom understood and they finished up the exhibit together. Kris was overwhelmed and as it got to closing they left together. It had been raining earlier, but now it was clearing and Tom lead Kris to the nearby Delacorte theater. They were in luck; the rain had kept the crowds away and there were tickets available for the Shakespeare in Central Park production of "Taming of the Shrew". With only a couple of hours before the show, Tom suggested that they eat al fresco, just as Zero Motel did in The Producers. Kris was as ignorant as Gene Wilder was and thus was surprised when they stopped at the nearby hotdog vendor. This he took in stride but it was Belvedere Castle that was the bombshell. He was absolutely enthralled. An actual castle in the middle of Central Park in the heart of Manhattan. Not only did Kris love dinosaurs but he also loved castles; they were frequent setting for his fantasies.
The show was great. The players appeared to fly all over the set but the best part was certainly the treatment of Katharine's fundament. They both wished that it had been bared for energetic application of Petruchio's hand. At least, they both thought, her skirts had been lifted exposing her fancy underpants. Tom had noticed how that stage spanking had excited Kris. He had even whispered that she deserved it.© YLeeCoyote
After the show, they wandered through the heavily (for New York) forested Rambles and then back up to the castle. Kris was a little scared (like a little boy in the dark) for his guide book had left him with the impression that every subway car and every tree, particularly in Central Park, came equipped with a mugger/rapist/killer. He was ashamed to tell Tom of such fears and seem a baby for Tom obviously knew his way around. It was a most pleasant night and, as they looked out from the plaza over Turtle Pond, Kris talked of his fascinations – both of castles and their dungeons and extinct reptiles. The castle was regrettably closed not only because it was night but because there was some renovations in progress. But Tom had his fantasies about castles too and was most fortunately associated with the contractor and thus had the key. Tom led Kris to the back door which on the lowest level of the castle, opened it and re-locked it securely behind them.
In the dark, Kris felt strangely captive in the heavy stone structure particularly after the walk through the forest and being on the bluff over the water. The only light was provided by a small flashlight that Tom had for the castle's electric system was being renovated. They soon found themselves on the roof. It was so easy to imagine being a prisoner; perhaps there were even Orcs keeping guard down below. The view, however, was magnificent: midtown to the south, Central Park West to the west, Fifth avenue to the east and Harlem in the far north. As they leaned on the parapet Tom's hand found its way to rest on Kris' denim covered bubble butt. It was not long before, seemingly by itself, it began to pat the tempting surface. Kris looked up at Tom with a shit-eating grin.
"You been a naughty boy today, young man. Crashing into people and knocking them over. No vegies in your dinner. Talking to strangers. And getting a hardon during the play. What do you have to say for yourself." And after a long silent pause, he continued: "Answer me, boy."
Kris took the cue and responded: "I'm sorry, dad, I've really tried to be good, honest; truly."
"You said that before, son, but you haven't kept your word; have you?" Kris shook head just a little. "You know what we agreed would happen if you slipped up again, son?" Tom punctuated this with a firm slap on the young man's behind; a second overt cue.
"Yes, I would be spanked." The young man said in a hesitating and fearful little boy's voice. The guide book induced fear was helping to put him in the role he craved but could never verbalize.
"And how?" Tom inquired further again punctuating the dialog with another slap on the willing bottom .
"Over your lap, dad," and after a long pause adding "with my pants down and on my bare hiney." It wasn't all that many years ago that it had happened
Tom stepped into the stair tower and brought a chair out onto the roof. As he sat down he called to the young man. "Now's the time; if you wait it will be worse for you." Kris knew that it was time to receive his spanking. He knew it could not be put off more than a few seconds; after all the castle guard could be called. He moved to the seated man but as slowly as he dared. Then he opened and removed his belt and gave it to the man. He slowly unbuttoned his jeans and lowered them to his calves and lay down on the man's lap. He hoped, against hope, that he would be allowed to kept his briefs on. He knew better, but nothing ventured, nothing gained.
It was then wrong time to try. "This will cost you four strokes young man." snapped the older man in mock anger and punctuated it by snapping the waist band of the offending shorts. Kris stood up and pulled the shorts down. The young man was obviously not a boy. His fully developed equipment hung down from a thick bush of hair. But he was being treated as a boy, he felt like a boy and that was what mattered. Neither his college degree or job were of importance here and now.
As he resumed his position, he said softly: "Sorry, Sir. I should have known better." Although Tom couldn't see it Kris had a big smile on his face. He had planned to go to a bar in the Village in the hope of meeting someone like Tom – a spanko daddy. His wrist watch beeped twice. Was this a dream? Would it all disappeared with him running down the hill after some white mice slipping on a smashed pumpkin? With the castle vanishing into the mist? Tom raised the belt and brought it down hard on the waiting ass. Kris yelped as he snapped out of his reverie and a red strip appeared across this butt.
Kris let himself escape completely. He was a little boy again. A naughty little boy being spanked by his father on his bare hiney. Soon he was crying and making little boy promises to be good always and forever. Tom felt the changes in Kris and dropped the belt. A hand was more appropriate for a little naughty boy than a belt. He let his hand feel that hot boy-butt as he spanked his boy.
When Tom decided that Kris had been spanked sufficiently, he stopped and just caressed the hot ass. It felt great to both of them. After a while Kris got up and sat on Tom's lap sobbing peacefully on his shoulder and the older man held him in a loving embrace for long time until he stopped crying.
"Thank you, Tom." Kris whispered into Tom's ear and kissed. "I been needing that for ever so long; I feel like I am an innocent boy again." He got a hug and kiss in return. They got up and Tom pickup Kris' backpack.
"What are you lugging around?" Tom asked noting how heavy the pack was.
"A souvenir for mom, two guide books and a new toilet kit because I forgot mine when I packed." the youth replied. And then added that he felt like stupid kid for forgetting his at home. Tom told him to strip and that he would be right back and went downstairs to get some things. In few minutes he made a couple of trips to get stuff and was back.
Together they arranged several drop cloths into a thick pad about 1x2 meters. Then Tom stripped down and they cuddled together for a while. Tom got a lubricated condom from his pocket and slipped it on. Then he slipped between the hot buns of his boy and deep into the hungry boy. The full moon watched happily as the pair coupled to a wonderful climax. After the spanking just being fucked made the youth come.
Still remaining the youth, Tom lowered the other's legs so that the youth was basically supine and his legs went around Tom. They could see the euphoria in each other's face. Tom reached for the backpack and pulled out the bag of sundries. There he found the razor and shaving cream he wanted. He spread the cream over the youth pubes and started to remove them with the razor. The youth was so content that he passively accepted all the man did. Every couple of minutes he rinsed the razor in the container of water he had gotten earlier. When the youth was smooth he wiped him dry with the towels he had also gotten and powdered him with his own powder.
They lay together until the sunrise in each other's arms. As they walked through the park on the way for breakfast together the youth observed very happily to his newly found dad: "I saw the sunrise today as boy."
It was a couple of nights later when Tom and Kris met again. They had an early dinner and then went to great Broadway show. He was anxious to return to the Castle as he had told Tom the night before. That experience in the Castle with Tom had changed Kris. He felt very special with Tom, almost as a young boy with his favorite uncle who took him to wonderful places – even places mother wouldn't approve. He also had that same feeling when he saw his bare crotch getting dressed back in his hotel or even when he just felt it when he reached into his pants to pee during the day.
After the show, Tom suggested that they go to the Castle and play a game. Kris was over joyed and enthusiastically agreed even before Tom had finished. As they headed for the Castle, Tom told Kris what game he had in mind. Kris would be a twelfth century English lad. A young serf who had been caught in Sherwood Forest and was been taken to the Castle of the most dreaded SHERIFF OF NOTTINGHAM! Kris's mind thought about the possibilities; he just knew that the Sheriff would not be inviting him to high tea (nor, for that matter, even low tea if such even existed).
As they walked through the park, suddenly Tom grabbed Kris. Then as he tied Kris' hands behind him, said, very sternly and menacingly: "The Sheriff wants to see you, lad. Which was it that you were doing here in Sherwood: poaching the King's deer or consorting with Robin Hood and his band of evil outlaws?"
"But I was not doing either, Sir." pleaded Kris playing his role to the hilt. "I was just returning from seeing my uncle in town where my father had sent me on an errand, Sir."
"That's not what I want hear, lad." said the arresting officer. "The Sheriff has many ways of making a lad like you tell all he knows." he growled menacingly with an evil chuckle. Kris felt cold shivers creep up his back as they approached the Castle gate. It was exciting. His boy-tool was hard and pressed against his britches in anticipation.
The key was put into the lock and the gate was opened. They went in. The gate was then slammed shut with a crash – an ominous crash. And then the bolt snapped into place with a loud clink – menacingly sealing him inside. The captive was lead deep into the Castle and down into the keep. He was made to strip and then taken down to the dungeon. Only a small candle provided a little bit of flickering light.
Attached high in the wall was a iron ring from which hung some rough ropes. Kris' wrists were lifted up and securely tied above his head with them. Before he left, the guard groped the helpless lad both fore and aft. "You'll be fun;" he hissed wickedly "lots and lots of fun!" and left the lad hanging naked and alone to await the fiendish Sheriff. The guard took the candle when he went upstairs. Now Kris was alone in the dark for the only light was that which trickled down the stairs from the guards' hall above. It was silent for some time and Kris soon felt as if he was in a real twelfth century dungeon as his face and body pressed against the rough stone wall he was bound to.
Suddenly, the silence was broken. He heard the SMACK of a heavy leather strap hitting something or SOMEONE. And then a blood curdling SCREAM. Kris cringed in fear. Then there was a second STRIKE of the strap followed by a second SCREAM of agony. "Tell us who your partner was, lad." snarled a menacing voice to some other unfortunate prisoner. Fearfully Kris turned to try to see but the blackness gave not a clue. Even a moonless night was brighter then the Sheriff's dungeon.
"I did not do it." I swear, I did not do it, Sheriff; I swear; I swear it." squeaked a frightened boy's voice from some other cell. There was another WHACK followed by a half a scream. By now Kris was in a cold sweat.
"Damn, this one's fainted. Let's try the other one." growled a harsh voice. The candle light returned and Kris felt rough hands feeling his back and butt. The hand squeezed his butt cheeks very hard and even probed between to feel his butt-hole. The lad had not been touched there by anyone since he had been in three-cornered pants. Then his behind was slapped sinisterly. It hurt. But surely not like that leather strap must hurt. The hands then turned him around so that he could see his jailer in the poor light. Of course, it was Tom but he was now dressed in a tunic so that he now looked the part of the Sheriff of Nottingham. The Sheriff now took the opportunity to feel the lad's front side. He ran his hands all over the lad. Every time he felt the pectorals he also tweaked the lad's nipples in one way or another. Kris felt pain but it was also strangely erotic. Then he let his hand wander down to the lad's crotch. He grasped the sensitive gonads and squeezed them very firmly until Kris yelped in pain. He then felt the lad's hairless pubes with his other hand and said: "You're still just a little boy and you will stay a boy if you don't confess lad, emphasizing his meaning with another squeeze. Just like those male piglets on your Lord's farm that never become boars after just one tiny cut of the knife." Chuckling, he gave the lad's balls a hard pull to emphasize the point. Kris yelped again and realized how helpless he was. But he was still very excited and there was some very hard evidence of this fact.
The Sheriff turned the lad back to face the wall. He then picked up a leather paddle and tapped Kris' butt with it. "Let's see how you like my little friend, lad." He brought the paddle back and swung it hard against the lad's behind. Kris managed to kept from yelling but he had tears in his eyes. "What were you doing in the forest, lad?" the Sheriff demanded. Kris repeated that he had just been doing an errand for this father. "And seeing Robin Hood on the way too, eh lad?" The Sheriff added and applied the paddle to the lad's bottom another three times and repeated his question: "WHAT WERE YOU DOING IN THE KING'S FOREST, LAD?".
"Dad send me to ask his brother for the loan of two silver pennies to pay the King's taxes next week." Kris whimpered.
The Sheriff snorted: "You were penniless when you were arrested. Who were you hunting the King's deer with?" He then gave Kris several more blows with the paddle.
"Uncle promised the money at the end of the next market day, Lord Sheriff." Kris cried. Again the paddle kissed the boy.
"We have questioned your uncle and he said he had not seen you for three months. What were you doing in the forest, lad?" And still again the paddle spoke directly to the boy and he started to cry.
Between sobs, the boy confessed: "I went to the forest in hopes that Robin Hood would give me some food. I had heard talk that he gave to the poor. I don't know where he hides. Really Great Sheriff. Please don't beat me any more. I don't know anything. Really, I don't. I'm just a poor serf's son." The Sheriff gave the lad another couple of heavy swats and the lad just cried more.
Stepping back a bit the Sheriff removed his tunic. Tom slipped on a condom and put some lube on his hand. The Sheriff approached the crying boy and applied the "grease" to the boy's crack particularly the unprotected hole. The grease made it easy to slip his fingers into the helpless boy. "Please Great Sheriff, don't fuck me; please. The priest teaches that it is a great sin. Please, Sir, don't fuck me." Kris could hardly say the words for he longed for it to happen so much. He had long fantasized being a prisoner being raped by guards. How could Tom had known, he wondered. When Sheriff Tom decided that prisoner Kris was sufficient relaxed, he replaced his penetrating fingers with his rigid man-shaft. It slipped easily into the now well lubricated hole and he quickly fucked the boy long and hard. As he fucked he also jerked Kris so hard that the lad came first, spraying his spunk on the stone walls. He let go the lad's cock and began to play with his nipples. While he did so, he fucked the lad with every greater force. As he rammed into the boy again and again, the boy was thrust hard against the wall. Then he too came, explosively in the hot hole of his prisoner.
They cleaned up and went up on to the roof of the Castle. As they enjoyed the view Kris told Tom how wonderfully he had come in his fantasy of being a medieval prisoner and that the torture rape really enhanced the scene. Later, as they walked out of the park, Kris said that he hurt. Tom inquired if he had used the paddle to hard or fucked too roughly and Kris said those were not the problem. "It is my cock that hurts. When you were playing with my tits and fucking me so wonderfully hard, it kept rubbing on the stone wall. So now it is sore."
"Life is tough, kid." replied Tom slapping him hard on the butt.
© Copyright A.I.L., August 22, and September 2, 1997
The URL for this page is: https://yleecoyote.asslr.org/BoysBigCityAdventures12.html
Last updated: September 15, 2023