He Came free porn video

My life was pretty good, not real great but bordering on it. I
lived with my mother in a medium-sized town, my father having died in a
train derailment on his way home from a business conference. Sad, yes, but
I was just little. And while I have memories of him, they seem to be
fading now. I do have some pictures. Him by himself or with my mother or
the three of us on a day out to the beach. I don't really remember that,
but I'm sure it was nice.

My name is Ronnie. Well, actually it is Ronald, but as far as I
know I was never called by that name, except a few times at the beginning
of the school term, then everyone just called me Ronnie. I'm 13 years, 5
months and 20 days old, when this story starts. Yes, I count them. I'm
compulsive about it. Don't know why, I just do it. Until recently it was
just something to occupy my time and to reassure myself that I was a
growing boy in my teens. Now I do it to remind myself of how old I really
am. I'm a nerd. Geek. Freak. Weirdo. Whatever word works for you
nowadays. I'm skinny. I'm the smallest in my class. Most the girls are
taller and bigger and even stronger. Yes, I get picked on. But they
usually tire of it and for the most part just leave me alone. Every now
and then they get a laugh in by pantsing me and admiring (as they call it)
my little bits, but it is nothing ever really serious or terrible. Mostly
just comments about my size and being just like a little boy. I am four
feet, nine inches tall, when standing on tip toes. And I am lucky to weigh
95 pounds. And that's holding a wet towel. It's actually quite weird as
both my parents were rather tall. An aunt once said, I hope in jest, that
I was switched at the hospital and really belong to the wee folk. She's
Irish and found that to be quite funny. Me? I worry a lot. I worry that
perhaps I was switched. I'm small and bookish. Both my parents were big
and not necessarily athletic but they worked out and such and they did have
what I call a "proper body" You know. Big, trim, firm. Nice looking.
Like from a fashion magazine. Oh, well. That's just the way it is for me,
before he came.

To make matters worse. I have red hair. Not just red hair, but
blazing red hair. Another prime target to tease about. Everyone loves to
pick on gingers. And if it could be worse. I have freckles. Lots and
lots of freckles. My wonderful aunt (may she rot in hell) loves to say
that I shouldn't be so shy and sensitive about them, that they are angle
kisses. (Laugh) Then after a pause, or are they kisses of the devil?
(Even more hearty laugh as she downs some Irish whiskey). That always gets
a big laugh from all gathered round. I also wear glasses. Not real
stylish ones (my opinion), but nice sensible ones (my mother's opinion).
My hair is longish but not real long. Not even to my shirt collar and just
to my ears. Yes. I wear shirts with collars. I don't wear baggy jeans or
t-shirts emblazoned with wild pictures or sayings. I wear button-up shirts
with button down collars and slacks (as my mother calls them). Khaki
colored ones are my favorite but I have some others. My mother says I look
very smart. Everyone else says I look like a geek. That was my life,
before he came.

I enjoyed school. I'm in eighth grade. I'm smart. Top of my
class. Just what you would expect for a nerdy, geeky bookworm. I'm not
into sex and that stuff. Didn't understand about it and didn't really care
or worry about it. I liked looking at some of the girls that seem really
pretty, but they seem so annoying with their giggling and carrying-on. I'm
not interested in boys either. Yes, I look at them. Can't help it. We
have to change clothes and shower for gym, so can't help but see them.
They are all much more developed than I am and they are all proud to show
it off, especially to me. All but two, me and another boy, have pubic
hair, armpit hair and most are even growing hair on their legs and arms.
Me and the other boy are often ranked out and stripped and compared
together. It's what boys do. The coach even laughs. I am as smooth as a
fresh sanded board. Not a hair in sight. Anywhere. And I look and hope
every day to see if there is any sign of hair. But it hasn't happened yet.
And they are much bigger than me, down there, you know. I don't know how
big it was then, or even how big it should have been, as it never occurred
to me to measure it. I didn't get erections like the other boys. At least
from what I understood about them. The other boys always seemed to be
talking about hard-ons and such and how they are always hard and waking up
with boners and like to whack one off. I didn't even know about
masturbation. I guess I was naive about things or just wasn't at the point
in my life to where it mattered, like the other boys. That's how it
was...before he came.

I am good at computers but don't do gaming. They seem to zap your
brains, if you ask me. I love to read. Adventures. Mysteries. I daydream
a lot. Being on some adventure in foreign lands or even in space. Being a
world-class spy or a soldier of fortune. Working with famous detectives
solving the most baffling of cases. Before you ask. No. I do not play
sports. Pretty much spazz at that. I have to participate in gym. Coach
says I have too. But no one holds much expectation. Whichever side is
unlucky enough to get me, usually makes me the towel and water boy. I just
go with it. Its not that bad. Pretty easy. I hate it when they spray the
water on me that they had just taken. Or even worse when I have to stand
naked at the showers giving out and taking up towels.

Anyway, like I said. I pretty much enjoyed my life. That is
before he came. Who is he? He is Master Gunnery Sergeant Richard James
Worthington, Jr., United States Marine Corps, Retired. He met my mother at
some social function on the nearby Marine base. Needless to say, they hit
it off straight away. Lucky them. Unlucky me. You could see the
disappointment in his eyes the very moment we met. And it went down from
there.

I remember the night they met. My mother had come home all giddy
and giggly. You know how the girls at school are? They stand around and
giggle a lot about who knows what. That's how she was. She must have
spent two hours on the phone with her friends talking about... The Gunny.
That's what she calls him, "The Gunny". Even now and they have been
married for almost three years now. Jez, was it annoying. She'd hug me,
kiss me and giggle and say he was coming over this weekend to meet me and
then he was taking her out. TAKING HER OUT!!!! I was beyond confused. My
mother has not been on a date with a man since my father was killed. Sure,
she went out now and then with 'the girls' for a few drinks and maybe a
movie or splendid dinner, but that was the limit. I was confused, my head
was spinning. I didn't know if I should be as excited as she was, but I
didn't want to disappoint her. I never disappoint her, or at least that is
what she had always told her friends. However, now it seems like I am
nothing more than just a big disappointment to her. I don't measure up to
being a 'real man'. Actually that was 'The Gunny's' opinion of me. It
appears that she shares that opinion now.

Let me describe The Gunny. Hmm. How to say it? He is like a
brick wall on steroids. He is tall. Six feet, four and one-half inches
tall. When I am next to him, it is like looking up at a very huge tree.
You know the ones you saw when you were a k**? The ones that go straight
to the sky and then some. This guy had muscles. Everywhere! His arms.
His legs. His neck. (I think he had one. Sometimes it was hard to tell
as his head just seemed to meld right into his body). He was fit to say
the least and that is by far an understatement. It looks like even his
jaws had muscles. He works out three times a day. I never exercised,
before he came. He weighs 185 pounds. 185 pounds of pure muscles. Like I
said, he is a brick wall. Only this wall had arms and legs and a big, loud
booming voice that made me want to pee my pants every time he spoke in my
direction. He has a unique hair cut. He was military after all. But he
is still all Marine, as he says. High and tight as the Marines call it,
but shaped flat on top.

The days leading up to "The Date", my mother was a wreck of nerves.
The Gunny was all she talked about. What should she wear? Should she get
her hair done? Maybe some fashion nails? It got to be annoying. Like I
said, I was confused. To me, up till then, my mother was a tower of
strength. She had gone from being a stay-at-home mom to running the
business office of a large company. People came to her for opinions,
guidance, direction. She never faltered. She was the rock and backbone of
the company. No one ever doubted her resolve or opinion. No one
questioned her abilities. And now she couldn't even pick out an outfit for
dinner and a movie with a guy she had met just three days earlier. The
Gunny had that power over people. He demeanor seems to command respect and
obedience as I soon found out. The hard way. I would tease her saying
that she didn't have to get all dolled up for McD's and movie. She would
scowl at me and say he has more class than that. She tells me that he is
taking her to the Sergeant's Mess on the base and she has to make a good
impression. Now that I think back on it, I wonder if that is what she
wanted or what he ordered. I didn't know what a Sergeant's Mess was, but
guessed it had to be something magnificent.

The day arrives and I am sitting on my mother's bed watching her
change her dress for the fifth time, or is it the sixth. I have often seen
her changing clothes but never naked and she has seen me changing clothes
or in my underwear, and even naked as I shower or am getting in or out. It
was just the way it was. We lived alone together and it was just that way.
She's a total wreck. No more giggling but actual worry and dread. Will
she look right? Is this too much (or not enough)? Did her hair look
right? Jez, what happened to my mother? The proud, strong woman I knew
was a ball of loose string. The doorbell rings and she tells me to go
answer it and to be polite and proper to The Gunny. Doomsday had finally
arrived. Or is it Armageddon?

I open the door and the tallest, biggest, sturdiest, meanest
looking man I have ever seen is standing there. He fills and over-shadows
the doorway easily. I look up and he just keeps going and going. He is
bulging out of a suit and tie, just like the Hulk looks like before his
clothes rips and he become a green monster. I guess you could describe him
as how the Hulk would look like as a real life man. The surprise
(disappointment) on his face is obvious. His voice is deep and booms and
echos in the house.

"I'm sorry. I must have the wrong address. I'm looking for Maisie
Conners' house", he says disappointingly.

I must look like a deer in the headlights or a frightened bunny or
both as it took some time for me to respond. Even after a couple of
'hellos?', it was hard to find my voice. I was that intimidated by the
Gunny.

"No, Sir. You're at the right place. She's dressing", I say with
my high trembling voice.

"I thought she had a boy, not a little princess", he says with a
slight laugh and smirk as he puts out his hand. "I'm Master Gunnery
Sergeant Worthington. My friends call me 'Butch', you may call me 'Sir'
and 'Gunny'", he says gruffly as he takes my hand and squeezes. I
immediately realize that he is not going to be my friend by any sense of
the word.

I'm not sure if he meant to or not, but it really hurt as he
grabbed my hand in that unbelievably big hand of his and he squeezed. He
squeezed so hard, it made me buckle at the knees. I look up and see
disappointment and and a sly, knowing grin.

As I am close to having my knees on the floor, my mother comes from
her room. I would like to think she was there to rescue me, but all she
saw was Gunny. "Gunny, hello. It's wonderful to see you again. You look
fantastic", she gushes and blushes like a schoolgirl on her first date.

The Gunny stops squeezing but doesn't release my hand. "Ah,
Maisie, you look radiant. Truly a sight", he says with a smile like the
Grinch.

"Oh, let me introduce you. Gunny, this is my son, Ronnie", she
says as if she is out of breath. "Ronnie, say hello to the Gunny".

"This is Ronnie?", he asks condescendingly. "I thought he was a
little princess here to do the housework or something", he laughs. To
which my mother appropriately joins in on the joke. My face is red as I
blush at the not-so-hidden innuendo.

The Gunny releases my hand as he takes my mother into his arms and
gives her a kiss on the cheek, once again saying how radiant she looks.
She gushes and swoons. I massage my hand. The Gunny looks around as if he
was doing a preliminary inspection. The first of many.

After a bit of small talk of the evening and what they will do,
they head for the door. Just as my mother opens the door, the Gunny stops
and looks around bewildered. My mother stops dead in her tracks and looks
as if she had made some terrible faux pas or breach of protocol or some
other unforgivable gaff as she looks just as bewildered. "Are we dropping
the princess off at a sitters on the way or he is here and I just have not
seen him?" he asks annoyed.

My mother, looking worried and oblivious to the third snide
princess remark says, "Oh, no. Ronnie doesn't need a sitter. He is a very
responsible and reliable boy. He has been staying on his own for over a
year now".

A dark cloud covers the Gunny's face as he is clearly disappointed
and not in agreement. "Nonsense! A little boy must be supervised at all
times. Little boys are irresponsible and always up to some sort of
mischief," he bellows. We both shake at the sound of his disappointment
and loud, not-to-be ignored opinion.

"Oh, but he is not a little boy", my mothers tries to explain.
"He's........."

The Gunny, raising his hand immediately commands silence. Just his
mere presence commands obedience and respect. "Nonsense! We will take him
to my quarters. Max can look after him while we go out. And we will most
likely be late in returning, so he will need a change of clothes and
pajamas for the night". It was a statement. An order. There was no room
for question and absolutely no room for disobeying.

In the brief moment that it takes my mother to access the situation
and make a split-second decision and loosing the countenance she always
displayed, looks to me, "Ronnie, run get some clothes and hurry, we have to
be on the way", she says with a lot of hurry and worry.

I start off to my room, my head spinning and my hand still aching.
I am not halfway there before I realize the Gunny is right on my heels.
"We need to be quick princess", he bellows. "I'll see that you get your
things in a hurry. I don't want to be late and you are already putting me
behind schedule", he says with a not-too-pleasant tone. I shudder and move
faster to just a slight jog. It hasn't been said, but I know not to upset
him further. Some things you just have an instinct about, you know.

As we enter my room, he pushes me aside and starts a slow, circular
inspection of my room and its contents. I'm a very neat and tidy boy. My
room, while perhaps not immaculate, is very neat and presentable, at least
for a young teenage boy. However, by the expression on the Gunny's face,
it seems that I have failed to meet his expectations for the second time
that day. He rummages through my closet, obviously disappointed and then
proceeds to inspect the contents of my dresser. Although it did not feel
right that this strange man that I have only known for all of ten minutes
was inspecting and going through all my things. It seemed that he presence
commanded that authority and right. He was far from impressed. He pulled
out my underwear. Boxers and some boxer-briefs and held them up with an
air of disgust while throwing them to the side and finding the old, small
cartoon briefs I used to wear when I was younger, holding them up and
nodding his approval. He rifled through the other drawers and pulls out
sleeping shorts and pants. I didn't actually wear pajamas but sleep shorts
or pants with an t-shirt. Again, he was not impressed, all the while
muttering "unacceptable" or "inappropriate". In disgust, he shoves them
into a bag he got from the closet along with some more underwear and
t-shirts and pulls a pair of slacks and a couple of shirts and turns to
leave telling me to get going. Now, I know that you don't just shove your
nice clothes into an overnight bag, but I dare not say a word and scurry
out the door and almost run to the protection of my mother. I was that
intimidated and afraid.

My mother was definitely surprised, but did not move from the front
door. She obviously knew her place and to unquestionably obey Gunny as
well. When he returned with the bag and a scowl on his face, you could see
the questioningly look on her face and her hesitance in asking what the
problem was. Reading her mind and expression, the Gunny said he did not
believe I had appropriate attire for a little boy and said something to the
effect that he would get it corrected as soon as possible. My mother,
demurring to his obvious displeasure and superiority, just nodded and
agreed. We were ushered out to his car. While I was ushered out with a
slight shove making me trip and stumble, my mother was escorted arm in arm
with Gunny, the giddy, giggling schoolgirl returning. I start to get in
the back when a hand grabs me by the back of my collar and yanks me back.
"I see you need to learn some proper manners, princess", he says gruffly in
his loud booming voice. "You are to open the door for a lady and help her
in, then you wait until your superiors and elders get in, then you get in.
Is that understood?"

Hanging about a foot off the ground by the collar of my shirt, I
feel like I am about to pee my pants, but manage to nod my head and squeak
out a meek, "Yes Sir!" Releasing me, he dumps me to the ground landing on
my butt with a thud almost knocking the breath out of me. Not wanting to
experience any more of his wrath, I scamper to get up and open the door for
my mother who is all agog with the exhibition before her.

After Gunny gets in, I open the rear door and slide into the seat,
trying to be as unnoticeable as possible. The Gunny is staring me down
from the rear-view window. He is not pleased and I haven't the slightest
idea what it was I did wrong. Looking at me with a scowl, he says I will
need a booster seat to make sure I don't slip out from under the seat belt.
He asks, "Didn't I tell you that you are to address me as Gunny and Sir? I
don't think I heard that just now, do you?"

The only thing I could think of is was that a rhetorical question
or was he really expecting me to reply. Thinking that silence was not the
response he wanted, I squeaked out, "Sorry, Gunny, Sir". Although it
didn't really appease him, it was the only thing I could think of doing. I
was nervous, scared, bewildered and had the feeling that I was again about
to pee my pants as I looked down to the floor to avoid his gaze.

"I'll correct you later for your mistake". He says as we drive
off. I had a good life...before he came.

During the short, but very quiet ride to his house, Gunny pulled
out his cell phone and makes a call. Only hearing one side of the
conversation, I am not put at ease any. He is telling the person on the
other end that we will soon be there and that he will be looking after the
princess, me, tonight and most the next day. Acknowledging that the other
person had plans for both days, he is not happy and says he will do as told
and to meet us at the door. All the while, Gunny is staring me down in the
rear-view mirror, while my mother sits there somewhat contented but with a
worried smile on her face.

As we pull up to the Gunny's house, a young boy is standing on the
front steps in what appears to be a military style stance. I would soon
learn that this position was called 'parade rest' and would learn to assume
that stance in quick order. The boy is an exact, albeit smaller, version
of the Gunny. Same build, haircut, posture, everything. Just a miniature
of the Gunny wearing a very tight, white t-shirt that is tucked in to some
very short and tight shorts. He has the same bulges. No fat anywhere,
just all muscle. As we start to get out the boy snaps to attention then
runs to the door, my mother's side, making it as obvious as possible that
he knows the rules about women and superiors. He then runs around to the
Gunny hugging his waist and blurting out welcomes and apologies. The Gunny
pats his head and acknowledging his sacrifice for the next two days will be
made up for, but that the tone the boy used with him will have to be
addressed later. The boy politely says, yes sir and bows his head. They
both look at me, The Gunny in disgust, the miniature gunny with a look that
tells me I'm dead meat. As my mother makes her way around the boy is too
quick to offer his hand in introduces himself as Max. My mother gushes
again. I come around and am introduced as 'The Princess' as Max takes my
hand to shake it, but squeezes the life out of it causing me to bend as if
kneeling to a superior. And soon, that is just the way it would be. Oh,
how I miss my life before he came.

While small chat and pleasantries were given, I was well aware that
I was an un-welcomed visitor. The glares from both 'men' were causing me
to be shy and intimidated as I just stared at my feet while everyone else
talked amicably about things. The Gunny told Max that he and my mother
were going to the Sergeant's Mess for dinner and then probably to a movie
and would not return until very late. He made it quite clear to my mother
and me, that Max, even though he was almost two years younger than me, was
a most extraordinarily mature boy for his age and was most reliable and
would be in charge of looking out for me. Max had an evil smile that made
me cringe. The Gunny kept referring to me as 'The Princess' and to Max as
'little man'. My mother made no attempt to correct him. The Gunny gave
orders, and they were definitely implied as orders, as to the course of
events of the night. Max was in charge. He told Max I was to have a bath
at 2000 and be in bed at 2030. As I started to say something, I was shut
down by a disapproving stare by the Gunny. My mother was admiring the
house and avoiding my looks of despair. He told Max that as he was in
charge he could stay up later but was to be in bed by 2130, to which Max
immediately snaps to attention yelling, "eye' eye, sir." The Gunny said I
didn't have any proper attire for the night and that Max was to find
something for me to wear. With an evil smile, Max assured the Gunny that
he would. He was to brief me on the proper behavior expected of me and
that if any trouble, Max was authorized and obligated to handle it as he
felt best. The 'little man' looked as if he was going to pop out of his
T-shirt his chest swelled so much. I got smaller and smaller. As I said
good-bye and good night to my mother, I asked if I could go home and that I
was more than able to look after myself. My mother just smiled and said it
would be OK and to be a good little boy and do as told. As I was about to
object to be called a little boy in front of a younger boy, the Gunny
snatches me up by my shirt collar and says he almost forgot. He takes me
in the house and to the couch and quicker than a rabbit has me over his
knees and is spanking me with hands that are as big as frying pans. My
mother looks bewildered while Max gazes on in complete approval. I am
crying and sniffling after the second smack. After 10 well placed smacks I
am unceremoniously dropped to the floor and told that is for forgetting to
do as I was told and if I don't want more, I will start behaving like a
proper little boy and do as I am told. He remarked that that was just a
taste and any more trouble or backtalk from me would result in a more
severe punishment. As I stand and rub my sore bottom, I could not think of
how it could be more severe. I have never been spanked up to that point.
As they walk out the door, the Gunny yells back to have a pleasant evening
and I am sealed to my fate of being babysat by the younger boy. Oh, how I
miss the days, before he came.....

As I continue to rub, Max approaches me and says I am lucky. That
usually a spanking is bare bottom and much more longer and severe. He's
smiling as he tells me this so I do not know if he is just trying to scare
me or what. However, he did succeed in scaring me. He puts his arm around
my shoulder and directs me toward the back of the house stropping to pick
up my bag telling me he will show me around and what a sweet little
princess I am. I started to object but the pressure he puts on me made me
stop. You know that point on the top of your shoulder that is tender? Max
knew where it was and just how much pressure was needed to make me bend and
follow him.

We get to Max's room, if you call it that. It looks more like a
miniature barracks. It has two simple metal frame beds. One was made with
very white sheets that are stretched as tight as possible. There is an
open-faced square locker at the foot of the beds, with things folded neatly
and organized just so in the one at Max's bed. The other was empty.
Nothing is out of place. There is no dresser like I had with drawers that
my things were shoved into. The walls have Marine recruiting posters and
other war-like images. The window has a plain set of Venetian blinds that
are open, no curtains. Max's room would make a Drill Sergeant proud and I
guess it does.

Max throws my stuff at the foot of the empty bed and tells me he
will show me how to stow my gear and make my bed later, but now it is
workout time and I was to join him. I start to say I didn't want to work
out and he holds up his hand, just like a miniature Gunny and asks if I
have any workout clothes to which I reply no. He looks carefully at his
cabinet then goes to the closet where another identical cabinet sits. He
carefully inspects the contents then takes a pair of shorts and a t-shirt
from this cabinet and tells me to put them on. I hesitate as I did not
want to change clothes in front of this boy I just met and with a quick
slap to my already sore bottom, he says to get moving. So I start to
fumble with taking my clothes off. I am wearing boxers and he scoffs at me
and asks if I have anything else. I look at my bag and he grabs it and
opens it and rifling through it, he finds the old cartoon briefs that the
Gunny packed. He holds them up and giggles at the Toy Story briefs and
says these will do and tosses them at my feet. I pick them up and ask
where the bathroom is so I can change and he looks at me with an amusing
and disapproving look saying I can change there. Another slap to my butt
convinces me to change so I step out of my underwear to the amusement of
Max. Even though I change clothes almost daily at school, I did not want
to undress in front of this boy. If the Gunny was intimidating, Max, being
11, was more-so. Needless to say, I was extremely embarrassed as he
checked out my immature body. I cover myself with my hands and he
immediately slaps them away telling me not to hide my "little boy dickie".
He smiles and laughs to a private joke, then mentions that I am uncut and
that 'pops' is not going to like that and will probably have me clipped. I
did not know that that meant, but I cringed anyway as I start to miss the
day before he came.

I change into Max's clothes he has loaned me and they fit, albeit a
bit loose. On him they would be so tight every muscle he had would bulge.
I guess that is the point, to show off his well-built body. I'd prefer not
to be noticed.

Max pushes me out the door and out back to the garage where a gym
and exercise room is set up. He makes a grandiose gesture as he tells me
he and his "pops" as he calls the Gunny work out three times a day and that
I will be doing so as well. I cringe. He slaps my butt and laughs. His
voice is much deeper than mine. I'm intimidated by this boy who is younger
than me, yet so much stronger and apparently more mature than I am. And
definitely dominant. He is one that is accustomed to being in charge and
obeyed. I haven't been able to not notice the bulge in his shorts and he
notices that I am staring there. I am not sure if it is because the shorts
or so tight or because he is really big down there. I've seen other boys
and even men naked at the pool and changing rooms so I am very much aware
on how insignificant I am compared to others. Smiling, he puts his hand on
his stuff and rubs and asks if I want to see a real man's junk. I stand
dumbfounded but nod my head yes. His smile gets bigger as he pulls his
shorts and underwear down and under his stuff. He is huge! I swear it and
not only that, he has hair all round the thing. I'd swear his is as big as
a man's. I guess that is why the Gunny calls him 'little man'. Max smiles
and tucks his stuff away saying that is what a real man looks like.

Max shoves me toward the weights bench and tells me that he is
going to start me out on some free weights. I don't know what free weights
are. I would think they would be free being in his home gym, but I don't
know about that sort of stuff and was too intimidated to ask or say
anything. He muses at me while he attaches some weights to the bar and
then gives me a brief instruction on how to stand and grip and lift. I try
to do as he says, enduring frequent slaps to my butt and upper legs. I try
to lift and.........nothing. I can't pick it up. Max laughs so loud in a
deep voice, you'd swear he was a man. My voice is still high; a little
boy's voice. He embarrasses me as he laughs at my puny body. He has me
flex my arm muscles, which there aren't any and squeezes making me flinch
and cry out. He shakes his head and gives a loud, disappointed laugh. He
removes two of the weights and has me try again. I can barely lift it. He
yells in disbelief as he says it is only 20 pounds. He scoffs as he
removes the weights and puts on two 2-1/2 pound rounds on the bar. I
manage to lift to his astonishment. He has me lift the bar over my head
and my body starts quivering after 10 seconds. He laughs hard and tells me
to put it down before I drop it on my head and that I have a lot of hard
work ahead of me. He removes all the weights and has me hold the bar over
my head with my legs wide apart. He slaps my butt and upper legs and kicks
out my legs as far as they will go while calling me a pansy and little
princess. Max soon tires of the abuse and takes the bar from me and puts
it away. He tells me to stand in the corner and has me watch has he adds
weight to the bar and then without effort starts to lift the bar up and
down, all the time staring me down with his prowess and strength. He does
about 30 reps or so then hits the floor doing so many sit-ups I lose count.
He follows that with just as many push-ups. I am actually amazed and
impressed with his strength. He tells me that he does competition lifting
and that he has won junior champion three years running. I can believe it.

He eyes me and a smile comes across his face. He gets up and and
pushes me outside saying he wants to wrestle. In an instant I am face down
in the grass with him on top of me rubbing my face into the ground. As he
tortures me with his strength and bravado, he humps me and I can feel the
hardness from his erection, although I am not sure what it is, as I have
yet to experience erections. He comes close to my ear and says in a
villainous and intimidating whisper that I'm definitely a little princess
as he rubs his very hard erection up and down my butt crack. I've
submitted to a much younger, stronger, dominant boy and didn't even know
it.

After pinning me several times in my meager attempt to wrestle the
stronger, yet younger boy, and after him sitting on my chest with his stuff
in my face, Max finally tired of humiliating me and got off me and yanked
me up saying it was time for lunch. We entered the house and he put his
hand on my chest stopping me saying I was not allowed to wear the dirty
clothes in the house and to take them off. When I balked at his
suggestion, he slapped my butt and upper legs saying I was to do as told
and not hesitate when told to do something. He reminded me, with another
couple of slaps, that he was in charge. So I took off the shirt and
shorts, which made Max smile saying that was better. I started off to the
room to retrieve my clothes when he stopped me once again. Asking where I
was going and me replying to get some clothes, he said that I did not
understand and that I was to only wear my underwear in the house. After
all, I was just a little boy and that was all I needed. I started to
object when he grabbed me and led me to a kitchen chair where he sat down
and put me over his knees and started to spank me. I was shocked and my
attempt to resist was futile. I tried to cover my butt with my hand and Max
grabbed it and pulled it up my back making me submit. I laid there as he
spanked my now very sore and red butt. He then grabbed my underwear and
pulled them down and off and started to spank me more vigorously saying I
was going to learn one way or the other and either way was good for him.
After a good 10 minutes of spanking and a long time after I stopped
struggling, he dropped me to the floor. I looked up at him through my
tears and he just smirked at me saying what a big baby I was. I got up and
started rubbing my butt to which he slapped my hands away saying no rubbing
and then guided me to the corner, pushing me into it and saying to stand
there until he had prepared lunch. He told me to stand at parade rest,
which I had no idea what that meant and the look on my face must have told
him that as he put my hands behind my back and kicked my feet out wide.
Then I remember the position he had been in when we arrived there earlier.
As he pushed me back into the corner, he told me not to move or that I
would very much regret it. I believed him. So I stood there my back to
the corner, naked, my hands behind my back on complete display as this much
stronger boy started to prepare lunch, bringing out all sorts of vegetables
and large bottles of powders.

I just stood in the corner legs spread, humbled and humiliated. I
had no idea how my life had changed so rapidly in just a few short hours
and could not even imagine how it would be changing over the course of the
next few days. Max made himself busy making us lunch, opening and closing
cupboards and the refrigerator and the blender going loudly as he crushed
ice and added this and that. Finally I was told to come over and get my
lunch. I slowly approached and instinctively covered myself up. As I
approached, Max slapped my leg telling me to move my hands and telling me
not to cover my little boy dickie and that I had nothing to hide. I asked
to put my underwear on and he said that in this house after a punishment, I
was to stay naked, so I would not be wearing anything until bedtime and he
suggested I get used to it as he saw many punishments coming my way. He
pushed a rather disgusting looking drink toward me telling me that was
lunch and it was full of proteins and such to help me bulk up. The look
was bad enough, the taste even worse. I put it down and he scoffed as he
knocked his back and practically inhaled it in one go. His pleasure at his
lunch was evident as he pushed the glass back toward me telling me I had
better drink up. I tried again, almost gagging as I drank some. Max gave
a deep laugh saying what a pussy I was. I kind of agreed with him. I was
not a rough-and-tumble boy like he was. I liked quiet, reading and just
being alone. Max and I were complete opposites.

I struggled with the drink, mostly gagging as I downed it, but
finally finishing it. Max took our glasses to the sink and moved all the
other things, telling me to start washing up and that would be one of my
jobs from now on. I stood there with a dumbfounded look which he
immediately capitalized on. Grabbing and squeezing my small penis and
immature balls, he said in no uncertain terms that I would be doing the
cleaning and housework, like the girly princess I was. I managed to get
out that I don't live here to which his reply was to squeeze harder and
said that I just refuse to learn and understand. Once he had me on my
knees, yet still in control of my privates, he whispered in my ear that his
pops was going to marry my mother and that I would be living there sooner
than I realized and that, yes, I would be doing the housework so I had
better get the proper attitude and start to work before he took me over his
lap again. Giving one last squeeze, he asked if I was ready to start, to
which my reply was a squeaky yes. He squeezed again, saying that I would
be addressing him as sir and that I need to start now. With increasing
pressure and pain, I submitted saying yes sir, that I understand. Patting
my butt, I could not help taking in his smell. It did not smell of boy but
a man. A man who was virile, strong and dominant and had been working out.
A smell not of stink, but of pure man emanating testosterone. Releasing
me, Max stood above me, smiling and sneering at his new conquest. I got up
and without any more delay, started washing up the lunch dishes. Max sat
on a stool close by supervising me, giving me a slap to my butt to mention
something I had missed. To my relief, the phone rang which caused him to
release his attention on me and gave me a bit of reprieve from his eyes and
hand. But my relief was short-lived as I soon realized he was talking with
the Gunny, saying what a wimp and pansy I was, that I couldn't even hold an
empty weight bar over my head without buckling. A hearty and manly laugh
and the remark that sealed my fate. "You're right, Pops, he is such the
little princess. He's already washing up and learning his place. Of
course I have had to punish him a couple of times, but he isn't even a
light weight. I can handle him. You have a good time. Love you, Pops".

With that, he hung up and said to follow him. I obeyed
immediately. Max lead me to the front room and threw himself down on the
couch grabbing the remote as he went. I started to sit down and he glared
at me saying I wasn't to sit on the furniture but I was to sit on the floor
at his feet. I did. He smiled and my life as Ronnie ended as I submitted
to my fate and contemplated what it was going to be like as his little
princess. Max smiled and said good girl and that a princess knew her place
around her man. I was confused, hurt, sore and humiliated and all alone.

I sat naked on the floor, silently crying to myself as Max watched
some Weight lifting contest on the TV. Every now and then he would comment
on the size and strength of the men, telling me to watch and see what a
real man looks like. He would occasionally rub his foot on my face holding
it under my nose saying to take a good whiff of what a real man smells
like. I would inhale deeply and he would laugh and say good girl. Then he
told me to kiss his foot. I looked at him questioningly as he slapped my
face with his foot. I kissed it. He smiled, again calling me a good girl
and that it was important to remember that he was the man. He then told me
to lick his foot. I hesitated, he frowned, I licked. I licked and licked
it all over as it was some sort of Popsicle. He just laughed as he
switched from one foot to the other, occasionally ordering me to suck on
his toes.

I sat naked on the floor as I licked his feet and sucked on his
toes for 30 minutes or so. He would say what a great job I was doing and
that I would get better. I glanced over and saw him rubbing his package.
It was huge. He smiled as he saw me eyeing him. After the event was over,
he got up and told me to follow him. I got up and obeyed immediately like
a little puppy at his master's heels. We went to the kitchen where the
told me to dress and that we were going running. While I dressed he left
and returned with some shoes for the both of us. As I was about to put
them on, he slapped my upper leg saying that I was not ready yet. He stood
me up and spun me around with my back facing him. He pulled my underwear
up hard between my cheeks making sure I had a good wedgie and that my
smalls balls were crushed at the same time. Smiling and laughing, he said
I was ready and that is how I will always wear my underwear, should I be
allowed to have any on. With that, we went out the door to my next
humiliation.

We went running. Rather, Max went running. I was struggling just
to jog. I told you that I'm not athletic. Max got frustrated with me and
slowed down till I passed him then getting as close as he could, he started
pushing me and hollering at me at the same time to get it moving. I tried
and did pick up some speed, but not near enough to please Max. As he
hurled insults my way he kept pushing till I stumbled and fell with him
tripping over me. Max was up quicker than a cat and was not happy. If
eyes could kill, I'd be dead right now. Oh, how I wish I was. Max picked
me up by my t-shirt and pulled me close to his face saying that I was going
to pay for that and that I had better get with the program. I was crying
as his anger and displeasure melted any resistance or resolve I had. He
dropped me to the ground telling me to run home and he meant run home, no
walking and what a baby I was. He said he was going to complete his run
and would deal with me when he got back and that I was to strip when I got
home and stand in the kitchen corner at parade rest till he returned and I
had best not disobey him. He kicked me as he stepped over me and headed
off. I sat on the ground in misery, sniffling until I realized I had been
there some time and had better get moving. I got up, my body sore and
started to run home. "Home". What a misnomer.

I struggled to get 'home' as fast as possible. I did not want to
upset Max any more than he already was. We weren't that far away, 5 or 6
blocks or so, but I ran as fast as I could and was totally exhausted and
emotionally spent. I entered the back door and immediately removed my
clothes and had gotten into position in the corner as I was ordered and
waited for my nemesis to return, wondering just how he was going to make me
pay for my incompetence. I needed to pee, badly, both from fear and that
fact that I hadn't peed since I had gotten up that morning, but I was
afraid to move should he come in while I was in the bathroom. I didn't
know what compelled me to obey this boy I had only met and known for a few
short hours, but something in me said I had to.






I don't know how long I had been standing there in the corner of
the kitchen. I needed to pee badly but was afraid that if I left, Max, my
sitter and tormentor, would come in. I wanted to laugh but was afraid I
would pee where I stood. "My Sitter". Here was a boy two years younger
than me being placed in charge of me by his dad who just started dated my
mother. And I mean just started. This is their first date and he is in
charge of me, keeping me naked, spanking me and requiring me to call him
sir. My life certainly has changed from what it was before he came.

Suddenly Max bursts into the room from the back door. He is a mass
of muscle and every bit of it is being accentuated by his tight t-shirt,
shorts and the sweat pouring over his body. He is totally soaked and all
his muscles as well as his "manhood" as he refers to it is on display. His
face is beet red. I'm not sure if it is from the exertion of his run or
his displeasure of me interrupting his run. I can barely stand still as
the urge to pee is becoming stronger and stronger so I start to shift my
feet and squeeze my legs together. Max glares at me with an expression
that would stop a rattle snake. He charges for me and starts slapping the
front of my legs hollering for me to keep still.

"Don't you know that at parade rest you cannot move, you little
pansy!!" He screams at me.

I'm not sure if that is a statement or a question so I do not know
how to answer or if I even should answer. Tears are rolling down my face
from the smacks and the increasing urge to pee.

"I'm sorry, Sir, I need to pee really badly, please". I start to
beg, blubbering like a little k**.

He smiles and mocks me: "Please, Sir, I need to pee. Did I ask you
if you needed to pee or if you knew what standing at parade rest means?"
He asks as he again assaults my thighs with his big bulldog hands.

I start to snivel more. "Sorry, Sir. Please can I go pee. I got
to go real bad!" I almost scream.

He eyes me and laughs as I try to squeeze my upper legs while
trying not to move from my position of parade rest.

"Fine, follow me". He says as he starts for the back door.

I move to follow and as quick as a cat he is slapping my thighs
again front and back.. "Don't you know you are to come to attention before
moving from parade rest?!" He yells at me. "Get back into the corner!"

I"m crying and struggling to keep from peeing on the floor where I
stand and go back to the corner and get into position once again.

"Now, follow me!" He says.

I start to move again and he again starts to smack the front and
back of my thighs. "Are you stupid? Can't you follow one simple command?"
He yells as his hands leave huge prints on my legs.

He pushes me back to the corner and standing right on top of me his
face in mine, screams that if I don't do it right this time, he will make
sure I understand.

He starts to walk to the back door and says, "Now, follow me,
bitch!".

I recall seeing him stand straight as we drove up earlier so I do
too trying to stand tall while not pissing on the floor and start to follow
him. I stop and he turns. "What's wrong now, princess?" He mockingly
asks.

"I can't go outside naked, Sir", I say as I tremble from the
pressure on my bladder and the fear of him hitting me again.

"Yes, you can go outside naked and you will go outside naked if you
want to pee. And if you pee of my floor, you'll be licking it up. So you
better decide quick, princess, just what you plan to do."

I had no doubt that he would make me lick it up if I should indeed
pee on the floor, so I quickly followed him out the door. "Good girl", he
smugly says and he leads me to the middle of the yard. He stops and turns
and says, "OK, pee".

I look around startled and scared that someone will see me, but the
yard seems secluded enough, so that is not a worry. My worry is having to
pee in the back yard in front of Max.

I stand there. "Go on then," he orders. "Pee."

Tears continue to stream down my face. "I can't, Sir."

"Well, I guess you didn't need to pee as badly as you thought you
did". He laughs at me and heads back to the house.

"No, wait, please, Sir. I do need to pee. But I can't pee out here
with you watching me". He again gets right up into my face and with a
snarl says: "Well, you better get used to it, princess. Cause I will be
watching you all the time, no matter what you are doing, or where we are,
so you better get over it quick. Now pee or get back in the house, Now!"

I stand there crying and holding my penis, trying to pee. But the
situation and my fear of Max make it impossible to go. "I'm trying", I
cry. "I can't, Sir. Not with you watching me." I blubber.

He comes up on me and again smacks the front and back of my thighs
which are now turning bright red from all of the abuse he has handed me.
He grabs my penis and testicles and squeezes saying: "You better try
harder, princess. You're doing it wrong anyway." He scoffs. "Girls squat
to pee, so squat like a girl and pee. You have 10 seconds to get it going
or you'll be back in the corner again." He says as he pulls my penis down
and I follow into a squatting position. If things could get worse. It was
bad enough to have to be outside naked and pee in front of Max. Now I had
to squat and pee like a girl.

"Better spread those legs, princess." He yells at me. " You pee
on them and you'll be one sorry little bitch!" He yells as he comes behind
me and smacks my butt. I start to pee. There, in the back yard, naked,
squatting like a little girl, while Max laughs and taunts me.

"Good girl!" He mocks.

I flood the ground with my urine as tears pour down my face and Max
laughs at his newest conquest. Me.

Max laughs at me as I try to spread my legs further apart as the
pee starts to spread over the ground. I finally stop and Max just stands
over me with a condescending smirk on his face. Grabbing me by my hair, he
lifts me up. "OK, princess. Let's go. We have some business to attend
to." He says as he pulls me toward the house. Once inside, he pushes me
to the middle of the room as he pulls out a chair and quicker than I can
figure out what is going on, he has me over his lap and starts to spank me.

After about 10 minutes of him spanking me, alternating from one
cheek to the next and to my upper thighs, Max pushes me to the floor, where
I quickly curl up and grab my sore bottom, while crying and blubbering like
a small c***d that has just been spanked by his dad. Max stands and pulls
me up with him.

"You know why I had to spank you, princess?" He asks.

Blubbering, I say, "Yes, Sir". Crying and hyperventilating trying
to gasp for breath, I manage to squeak out that it was because I
interrupted his run.

As Max pushes me into the corner once again, he smiles and says at
least I learned something today and that I was to practice running.
Smacking my thighs once again to ensure he had my attention, he told me to
start running. When I looked at him without comprehending what it was he
said, he smacked my legs again.

"Stand there and start running" he yells. "You will run in place
until I think you understand what the word 'run' means. Now start running,
princess".

I start running in place still crying and sobbing. He slaps my
thighs again telling me to get my legs up higher. As I stand there
running, Max pours himself a cold glass of water as he sits and watches me.
I'm running in place, naked, crying and sore from the spanking and
continual smacks I receive from this younger boy who is taking extreme
pleasure in tormenting me. This was only the beginning of how my life had
changed, before he came.

"Turn around, bitch"! Max orders. "I don't want to watch your
little boy bits flop up and down", he laughs at me.

I turn and continue my running in the corner as I hear Max pick up
the phone and make a call.

"Hello, Sir", he starts, sounding as contrite as possible. "I'm
sorry to disturb you, Sir, but I wanted to ask permission for some friends
to come over. We were planning on playing some ball and such". After some
pause, due to receiving his answer, I assume. He continues, "Yes, Sir.
Thank you. No, the princess is no bother. I have had to correct him and
punish him on some issues, but I can look after him. Yes, Sir, thank you.
I will, Sir. Thank you, Sir."

I'm not sure, but Max sounded as afraid of the gunny as I was. Or
perhaps that is the way he always talked. I wasn't sure. I was sure,
however, that I did not like the idea of his friends coming over and seeing
me naked and being bullied by this younger, stronger boy. But that was
just what was going to happen.

I hear a drawer open and the noise of some objects being moved
around and the drawer closing again before I feel a terrible sting to my
butt. "I said keep your legs up! Jez what a pansy! You better get with
the program, princess, or you will definitely regret it!" He yells as he
continues to spank my butt and thighs with a wooden spoon. "Don't stop or
you will be getting another spanking, sweet thing!" He yells as he exits
the room.

I lift my legs higher and feel a new flood of tears down my face as
I tell myself that I already regret it. Not being so sure what the "it" is
that I regret but sure it has something to do with being naked, standing in
a corner and running in place in a strange house, with a boy I had only met
a few hours before, who was the son of a man I had just met only moments
before that. I certainly was beginning to regret "it", alright. My life
certainly was different before he came. I just didn't yet know how much
different it was going to be.

I hear Max on the phone but cannot make out much of the
conversation. I hear only bits and pieces of it. Like 'bitch', 'pussy',
'pansy', 'princess'. I'm sure he said those louder so I would be sure to
hear them. I did hear that he had permission for whoever was on the other
end to come over to play some ball and that he and some others would be
there shortly. Max re-enters the room and immediately begins to paddle my
butt with the wooden spoon, expressing his displeasure at having to take
care of me when he and he buddies were going to go the the park and such.
But they are still coming over and I had better not embarrass him or I
would be in store for some more punishment.

Max tells me to stop and turn around. He is inches from my face
staring at me and willing me to die on the spot. That is the first thing I
have agreed with him on all day, as I too was hoping I would die on the
spot. After staring me down and I look to the floor in submission, he
backs off and picks up my underwear and tosses them at me.

"Here, put your panties on", he says as he replaces the wooden
spoon to the drawer.

I struggle to put them on as quickly as I can in an effort not to
displease him any further. They are tight and hurt my sore thighs and
butt. But I am relieved to have them on to cover me up and I am silently
happy as I think he will at least let me dress before his friends arrive so
they don't see me naked. I was actually about to thank him for it, until
he comes up and yanks them high between my butt cheeks and squeezing my
penis and testicles.

With another slap, he says with some disgust, "I told you this is
how you are to wear your underwear", emphasizing his words with additional
smacks to my very sore butt and thighs. "Now, come on. We are going
outside. And he starts pushing me through the house to the front door. I
try to resist, not wanting to go into the front yard with only my underwear
on, especially with it pulled up high between my butt cheeks.

As if knowing what I am thinking, Max says, "Don't worry, princess.
No one will care. As far as anyone is concerned that sees you, they will
just think you are my little brother outside playing. No one will care.
Little boys play out in their underwear all the time around here. Now,
move it!" He emphasizes as he pushes me out the door.

He stops by a chest and pulls out some baseball gloves and a ball
and pushes me off the porch into the yard. I look around cautiously hoping
not to see anyone and much to my relief, I did not see anyone. Max tosses
me a glove and tells me to go to the other side of the yard as he moves to
the opposite side. Before I know it, he throws the ball right at me. I
duck as it barely misses my head and goes past me.

"You're suppose to catch it princess. Now go get and throw it
back" He yells and shakes his head in disgust.

I run to get the ball and throw it back. Now remember, I told you
that I was not athletically inclined. Well, my throw, for lack of better
word, was a failure. Barely making it halfway to where Max was standing.

"Good God!" He yells in between his laughs. "You call that a
throw?! You throw like a girl. No, actually a girl can throw better than
that." He mocks and laughs as he runs to pick up the ball.

Max returns to his side and launches another throw at me. It's
coming hard and fast and of course I move out of the way as it whizzes past
my head. Max almost passes out from laughing. As he tries to catch his
breath and I run to retrieve the ball, three boys come riding up on bikes
and stop behind Max. I stop dead in my tracks. They are all staring at me
as they bump fists with Max. I hear one asks who I was and Max tells them
that I am the son of the woman his dad is going to marry. One asks why I
am in underwear to which Max replies that I am just a little boy and calls
me over to them. They start to laugh as they see the Toy Story briefs
pulled up high between my butt cheeks and highlighting my small testicles
and penis.

As they all stare at me, Max tells them what a pansy and little
pussy I am and that his dad has named me princess, which I fit the name
perfectly. He tells them I can't run, I can't throw and can even catch a
ball. They all stare in mock surprise and express their sympathy to Max.
Max grabs my glove and runs to the porch and returns with a basketball as
they all move toward the garage to play ball. Max tells me to follow and
then to move to the side and get into parade rest while they play ball.
The other boys start to laugh as Max tells them that I am 13 and that his
dad placed him in charge of me. I can feel the tears welling in my eyes as
they mostly ignore me but occasionally look my way and laugh.

After some time of playing ball, in which I was "accidentally" hit
while the ball was being passed from one boy to another, Max says it is
time for a break and tells everyone to go inside for some drinks and to
cool down. He turns to me and says, "Come on, princess, you too. I can't
leave you out here by yourself." He laughs and the others promptly follow
his lead. You can tell Max is definitely the leader of the group.

I start to move but think better of it as Max shoots me a mean
glance and remembering my earlier instructions, I come to attention before
moving, causing the other boys to laugh at me. I follow them inside and as
soon as the door has shut, Max orders me to remove my underwear reminding
me that I am not allowed anything to wear in the house. I look at him
pleadingly and meekly say, "Please sir, can't I keep my underwear on?"

Max is on me in a flash smacking my thighs and saying no, that I am
now allowed any clothes in the house and to take my panties off, to which
the other boys laugh. All eyes are on me while I take down my underwear
and then the laughing and mocking starts as they see my underdeveloped
penis and testicles. I try to cover myself as Max smacks my hands away
telling me not to cover up and that I have nothing to hide. They all
comment on me being older than all of them, yet they are all more mature
and developed than me. One even comments that his little brother, who is
8, is more developed than I am. Max laughs and says we will all have to
compare one day to which everyone laughs at and agrees with. Everyone
finds that funny but me as they all go into the kitchen with me trailing
behind trying to stop from crying.

They all sit at the table and Max tells me to get glasses and
lemonade for them. I look questioningly at Max who gives me a very stern
frown and repeats his command for me to get them drinks. As I do, they
can't resist in knowing why my thighs are all red to which Max tells them
that he had to spank and correct me on several occasions. They all admire
Max and express their sympathy for having to be burdened with me. Max says
it's all good and that I will soon learn my place. After I serve their
drinks, Max orders me to stand facing the corner again and to practice my
running. The tears start down my face as I stand in the corner, naked,
running in place with his friends staring and laughing at me.

As the boys talk and stare at me, I try to think of things and how
my life was before he came. I do think I was happy. I got picked on a
bit, but nothing like I have endured the past few hours. I had friends and
did lots of things that were fun and I really enjoyed. With the reality
sinking in on what Max told his friends about my mother marrying his dad,
an awful dread starts overwhelming me as I realized that I would be at
Max's and probably his friend's mercy to be treated however he wanted. The
tears starting flowing as the boys mock me and as Max retrieved the wooden
spoon and started smacking my butt and thighs hollering at me to get my
knees up and to run faster. Everyone was amused. As I run, the boys
discuss various topics as sports, good looking girls and things they hope
to do at some point. All eyes are on me as they enjoy my nakedness and
submissiveness. Max, however, has a face of sheer hatred and loathing as
he watches me.

The boys soon depart as Max tells them that he as to get dinner
ready and then get me a bath, explaining to them that he was required to
bathe me and then put me to bed. The boys found this particularly funny
and commented on my being such a little boy and pansy having to be taken
care of by a