Clifton Springs Into Action Written Sometime n Somewhere in 2006 by Jack N. Nov.
My new buddy Jack was always on my mind, as that immemorial Willie Nelson tune goes. It so happened that I was lusting after a computer, specifically the awesome Commodore-64, but my parents wouldn't give me the $200 to buy it. Jack's penchant for my posterior had me thinking that after ten fucks, I'd get my C-64.
I was only fourteen back then, and this was before the whole AIDS plague fucked up the prostitution scene for bitches and boy-whores alike.
I'll be honest, though. It wasn't just the money with me. My thirteen year-old ass was craving cock. I really loved the sensation of being fucked, of having a man take me over and use me. Not only that, but being spanked into submission. It's an acquired taste.
When I broached this idea with Jack, he was amused but said maybe I could earn the money sooner if I was willing to try something different. I said, sure, what do you have in mind, and he gripped his belt buckle with one hand and my right buttock with the other. "I aim to whip your ass with this belt and give you marks to remember me by."
Jack was not the last of the Great Romantics in case you haven't guessed that already. He was also a blunt, get to the point kind of person. Which, being a Southerner in addition to a lifelong conservative Republican, I tend to admire.
"Well, I don't know," I said, already imagining the stripes criss-crossing my teenaged ass.
"That's not all, Clifton. Also I am going to have you suck my dick afterward, then after I cum in your mouth, I will stick a carrot up your ass and leave it there while I sleep. Then after you have warmed it up real good we will plant it in the backyard and wait for it to grow. Three months from now, carrot soup."
I don't know whether you have already heard a fantasy quite like this one or not, but these ears were burning red after those words. And I have to admit that my cock was also porky.
I guess I should describe myself as I was, basically an average white guy of the teenage years, with dark hair, dark eyes, pale tan-less skin. I was into drawing, karate, and making a big nuisance of myself. I made good grades though and was considered smart by the teachers, even while they also viewed me as a pain in the ass (though not the type I craved). I fancied myself a real cartoonist, even though the truth is, I didn't know my ass from a hole in the ground when it came to humor or wit. Later on I turned to selling drugs to carve out a living myself, but that's another story.
Living in Charleston, South Carolina with my stick-in-the-mid parents kind of limited my options somewhat so I guess I was fixated on Jack as my deliverer. My Dad was a type "A" personality who died of a heart attack early on, I was actually glad about that but his continual abuse of me is another story.
"So Jack, what do you want me to do?"
"Tomorrow, I want you be wearing you tightest underwear. Do you have anything tight?"
"Yeah, I've got a pair I outgrow two years ago that I never wear."
"Wear that then. And before you come over, I want you to go to the grocery store and buy a carrot."
"Oh yeah?" I turned red. Shit!
"A big one, not one of those small deals. Big and thick. If it's not big enough I will send you back to buy another."
"Asshole."
"No, you already have that, you just need a carrot to put in it. Next, arrive promptly at 5:15 p.m."
"What if I'm late?"
"Then you'll spend more time over my knee, smartass."
I could tell this was going to be what you call a special experience...
[to be continued...]