Bobby Redding: Mommy_s sick friends

"Come on, Tom," nudged Sue, but the older boy only moved closer to Claude. His breath scalded Claude's face.

"I'm going to have to whip your fruity little ass." His tone was deliberate.

Tom Sue's tone had become more resigned.

"I don't like fruits," he said, the words addressed to the girl rather than to Claude.

"Get over into those bushes." Tom was pointing back inside the gate, toward the clump of greenery a couple of hundred yards away from the wooden equipment shack. Claude moved, spurred by the occasional contact of his body with Tom's, and Sue followed them both.

There was a small shaded grove, miraculously obscured from the rest of the field behind the west bleachers. Sue stood at Tom's side, facing Claude. Her fingers grasped the boy's thick forearm, but her face was blank of either sympathy or anger.

Claude watched in horror as Tom pulled his thick cowhide belt from his jeans. Sue's eyes widened, and her lips twitched nervously. She was fascinated by the way the leather hung, the end of the belt touching the grass. She looked up at Tom, her glance not without admiration, but Tom was staring into Claude's frightened eyes.

"All right, fairy. Drop trou."

"Huh?" The question came out a primal grunt.

"Pull down your panties, girlie."

Claude hesitated a moment, waiting for something to save him.

The moment passed and Tom repeated the command, this tune his voice a harsher snarl. Claude unbuckled his belt and pushed his levis to his knees. His cock and scrotum were tucked in a lumpy bulge at the crotch of his undershorts.

"Get them off too." Tom paused and turned to Sue. "Right, sugar?" Sue turned away from the younger boy and looked into Tom's face, her lips curled into a pleased smile.

When his clothes were a crumpled pile at his feet, Claude stepped to the side.

"Lie down!" Claude got on the grass. The cold made him shiver, pushing his buttocks into the ground.

Sue stood at his feet, her eyes straining for every detail of Claude's penis. The boy's legs were sprawled apart.

"Not that way, you fruit. On your stomach."

Claude turned over, his jagged hipbone smashing into the ground as he rolled on his side. His phallus was tucked between his legs, and only a fraction of the scrotum could be seen by the two teenagers staring at his backside. Claude's buttocks were round, taut. His back was slightly tanned, but the cheeks were white-pink.

Tom knelt at Claude's side, the belt clenched tightly in his fist. Sue followed suit immediately at Claude's other side. The boy and the girl stared into each other's eyes for a moment, testing the measure of each other's desire to whip the boy and degrade him. Sue looked away, but as quickly looked back. O'Hara's eyes were steady, and now his face was contorted in a toothy smile.

He opened his other hand and motioned her back. She moved back on her knees, her fingers taking hold of the front of her plaid skirt as she did. O'Hara doubled the whip and flicked it teasingly at Claude's ass. The boy's flesh quivered with the light contact.

Sue's mouth opened wide with a gasp at the first heavy crack of the leather across Claude's cheeks. The muscle reddened after the second stroke of the whip, and the third slash assaulted him in the small of his back. His whole body jerked under the belt as it hit him there. He felt the pain circle around and settle in his stomach in a single spasm.

With the next lash Tom tried to hit the rims of the buttocks. The leather fell just inside the space between, and Claude gasped for air, the breath rasping against his dry throat. The fear seemed to lodge like a solid ball in the middle of his windpipe.

Tom got up, the belt hanging from his clenched fist. "Don't move." He advanced a few steps until his feet pointed at Claude's head.

"What are you going to do, Tom?" The girl's voice was part fear, part titillated anticipation.

"Push up," he said, his voice an imitation of a drillmaster.

"What?" laughed Sue.

"Push up, Claudie-Maudie," O'Hara barked again, moving the toe of his shoe to touch Claude's forehead. The boy's arms moved and lifted him off the ground.

"He can't do a single push-up. He's in the worst group in phys ed. He can't do a single one. He can lift himself, like that, and he can let himself down all the way, but he can't keep himself three-quarters off the ground." Claude's toes and palms touched the ground. O'Hara kicked his shoulder lightly, but hard enough to make Claude lose his position and fall on his chest.

"Guess what I'm going to do, bugger." Tom waited, the pause theatrical, as if he expected Claude to answer. Sue's brows flexed with the same question as her eyes flashed from Tom's face to Claude's naked butt.

O'Hara smiled at Sue. "I'm gonna, show him something he really likes."

Sue's eyes widened. She watched, her body still, as he undid the fly on his slacks. Claude watched him pull his pecker out with mixed feelings of contempt and curiosity. It was big, but it was flabby, un-erect. The foreskin almost totally covered the head. It was long, too, five inches at least, even when flaccid.

"Oh, Tom…" Sue laughed naughtily.

Tom pulled on the cock. He stretched it out, then let it spring back and fall down, hanging again from his crotch. But the dick twitched, and it became thicker and harder in stages as Tom stroked and squeezed it.

Claude's fear, the worst part of it, was over. The belt had frightened him, but no one's genitals would – man's or woman's. Even homosexual rape, which he didn't think would happen, at least with Sue there, was no real threat. The boy's prick was smaller than Tony's, and Tony had entered him a half-dozen times. His relief took the form of passivity, just as his fear had, minutes before.

The phallus was stiff now, and it pointed up like a tower from its root on Tom's belly. Playfully the athlete pushed it down, and it bobbed back up to the previous angle. "Only you can't have it," he said, tauntingly, teasingly. "It's not for fruits."

Tom moved toward Sue, who was sitting on the grass, her hands folded under her bottom. Tom bowed his knees a bit and pointed the penis at the girl's face.

She grasped it halfway down the shaft and pushed it down, easing her head forward, her lips puckering before they touched the bulb.

"See this, you motherfuckin' fag? Bet you'd like to be doing this wouldn't 'ya?" Tom's head turned slightly to the side to watch Claude's reaction, but the younger boy's face did not change, Sue's eyes glanced beyond the side of Tom's hip, and her eyes met Claude's. His coolness impressed her. He's not a fag, she knew suddenly. He's not a fag.

Still, her mouth was hungry for the solid flesh that filled it and shoved at the insides of her cheeks and pushed at her throat. She grated her teeth against the upper and lower sides of the prick as they clamped down lightly three inches beyond the head. Her fingers threaded through his pubic hair, and she rubbed the skin.

"I'll tell you what, Claude," Tom said, placing his hand flat on Sue's head as she continued to blow him, "I'm gonna let you see something I'll bet you've never seen. And never will." He looked down at Sue, tightening his body. She glanced up and knew he was no longer interested in the sucking.

"Get up and take your clothes off, Susie," he said, his voice deep and yet coy. Sue rose gracefully, licking her lips clean.

"No, Tom."

"Sure, why not? It's not like anyone besides me is gonna see you naked. Claudie over there doesn't count. He'd rather not see a chick without clothes. Claude does it strictly for guys, huh, Claude?"

Sue shrugged and turned her back to Tom. O'Hara unzipped the top, and her small, lithe body slithered out of her clothing and then her frilly underwear. Her breasts pushed against the too-large bra cups.