Sophomore Year 31
Day 4 only grows stranger for Hank as he seems to find something he's been seeking, but not in the way or the place he ever expected.
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Chapter 31
THE AFTERNOON GROWS WARMER
I paused mid stroke in my sprint down the home stretch and managed to yell back, "Just a minute, sir! Wrapping up some homework!" hoping to buy enough time to finish.
But before I knew it, I felt more than heard angry-sounding footsteps pound to the bottom of the stairs. Buck's voice boomed, "You get that ass down here now, or I will polish it up like a shiny red apple, you hear?" His words and tone made me shiver.
I grabbed the box of Kleenex to wipe some of the precum off my hand and dick only to find it empty. Shit! I pulled up my briefs, doing my best to tuck my rock hard stiffy inside. I ran to the top of the stairs, where, holding my hands in front of me to hide the gooey bulge, I whispered urgently, "Sorry, sir! I thought it was at four. I'm not dressed yet. Just give me a sec!"
My request sounded totally reasonable to me, but Buck was not having any of it. "Bullshit!" he answered, and then, enunciating each syllable slowly and distinctly, commanded, "Ass. Down. Here. Now!"
As though transported to yet another Buck-induced nightmare, I slowly plonked down each step, square in the beam of Buck's laser glare. I kept my hands in front of me, trying to hide my stiffy and hoping it would deflate in time to save me some embarrassment. I was mortified to realize that I was still leaking into my briefs. What was wrong with me?
Blocking my path, Buck coldly appraised me. "Inspection!" he barked. By now, I knew exactly what this meant, and slowly raised my hands and locked them behind my head. Buck made no pretense of looking anywhere besides directly at my crotch. He smirked and said in a very low voice, "No wonder ya not ready. Been playin' in yer panties, I see."
I figured Buck would take one look at my state and send me back upstairs to wipe up and put some clothes on. But instead, he stepped aside for me to pass and as I half-expected, landed a stinging wallop to my ass that propelled me forward into the living room.
Wrapping an arm around my shoulder, Buck firmly led a very reluctant me across the room to stand in front of the recliner where a beefy young man sat facing us. "Our Boy Scout here apologizes that he forgot to get dressed. Looks like he got too busy playin' in his little panties."
In the long string of humiliating moments that made up my life, I thought this might be the absolute worst. I had been made fun of for my foreskin, for my puffy nipples, for my butt crack showing in my swimsuit, and for being a shy and awkward geek in general. But I had never been forced to stand in my underpants leaking precum in front of two grown men.
"Come meet Charlie." Buck ordered as though I were dry and fully dressed. The man sitting before me looked about 30 years old. Like Buck, he sported unfashionably short hair for the time. He held a baseball cap in one hand and his face glowed with the expectant mirth of a child in front of a birthday cake. "Charlie here is a college boy, just like you."
My expression must have been puzzled. Buck clarified, "Went back to school after the Army and just graduated from college last year. Now," and here he gave a nudge to my backside, "ya got sumpin' ya wanna say to Mr. Charlie?"
Confused, embarrassed, and scared, I blurted out a string of thoughts, hard pressed to know what proper etiquette suggested in a situation like this. "Congratulations, sir. Nice to meet you, sir. Apologies for my appearance, sir. I thought this was at four, sir."
"Oh, now don't you worry, little fellah," Charlie crooned, smiling wide. "That's alright."
Turning to Buck he added, "Reminds me of my little brother. About the same age. Runs around the house in his little undies too. And a honey dripper like this one. Can't help it really. It's the hormones keep `em pumpin' out that boy juice day and night."
I didn't know which was worse: them talking to me as if I was a child or talking about me as if I wasn't there.
Poking me again, Buck said, "Now see what a nice man Mr. Charlie is? If I was him, I'd have your bare ass over my knee, lit up like a Christmas tree. But he's the understanding type. Can you say, `thank you' and shake hands?"
Another conundrum. I hadn't even had time to wipe my hand dry after stroking. It was still kind of moist and sticky, but I didn't see much choice. I reached out and said, "Thank you, sir," expecting him to recoil in disgust. But he grasped the hand that minutes ago had been wrapped around my gooey dick and held it firmly. "Mmm,´he said, "nice grip there, Hankie boy."
The sudden use of the diminutive caught me off guard. "It's Hank." I said automatically and immediately regretted it when I felt Buck's cold glare at my impudence.
"I kinda like `Hankie'," Charlie went on unperturbed, "cuz it sounds sorta sweet and cute, like you standin' there in your little undies."
This was galling, but before I could react, Buck prodded me from behind, "Say thank you, Hankie."
"Thank you, sir." I muttered, looking at the floor.
"You're welcome," Charlie said then added, "And also cuz it looks like you could use a hanky right now, but not on your nose." Chuckling at his own wit, he turned to Buck. "Think we should find this boy a hanky, Buck?"
"I think a boy should earn a hankie." This was pure Buck. "And not by hidin' up in his room playing with hisself when he's says he's doing homework or instead of helpin' with chores."
Buck's behavior surprised me. He could be strict, and he could be impatient and quick to anger and to physically intimidate, to violate personal space and to smack an ass, but Buck was not intentionally cruel. This embarrassing ridicule and belittling were out of character for him.
Charlie seemed determined to play the good cop to Buck's bad. "Aww, you have to understand, Buck. Boys his age can't help it. They got hormones raging. They pop wood at the drop of a hat. Isn't that right, Hankie?"
I kept my eyes down, staring at the floor, fairly certain there was no good way to respond to that.
"I said, `isn't that right, Hankie?'" and Charlie tossed his cap on the floor just past my feet.
I was so confused, I felt like a mouse caught between two cats.
"Couldja get that for me, Hankie?" I turned around and bent over to pick up his cap.
"Hmm," Charlie murmured, "Nice and limber. And those undies fitcha real good, too. No wonder ya playing in `em."
I held the cap in front of me, trying to hide the embarrassment of the sticky spots on the front of my briefs. And the leaking would not seem to stop.
"Try it on." Charlie said.
"Go on, Sailor," Buck ordered from behind. "Cap on and assume the position."
I put the cap on—it fit kind of large—and locked my fingers behind my head.
"And what did I tell you?" Charlie said to Buck, as though winning an argument. To me, he said, "Can you turn around and show Buck, Hankie?"
I turned towards Buck and Charlie said, "See? At the drop of a hat." And I realized I was about half hard and still leaking like a hose. This was indeed a nightmare.
Charlie brightened and said, "You know what I used to do to help my little brother? I'd have him do some calisthenics. That seemed to help keep his hands out of mischief."
Buck took to the idea right away. "You're right! That might really help this little horndog. Think that might help ya, Sailor? Why doncha give Mr. Charlie his hat back and let him give ya a workout?"
"Ok, let's see..." Charlie took the hat and then put a finger to his chin in thought, "Let's start with some jumping jacks. How `bout you give me twenty there, Hankie?"
This was unbelievable. Buck's story of forced jumping jacks in front of the cop was seared in my mind, to the point where I had tried to replicate it in front of Jack's cum-stained mirror. I had tried to imagine how it would feel to be in such a situation, and now, like a bad dream, here I was.
Seeing no other option, I started doing the jumping jacks. As in Buck's story, my semi started bouncing around in my briefs, hitting a dry spot here then a wet spot there. It felt like so much movement was splashing the precum all around the inside of the pouch, making it slicker for my dick to slip against.
Despite the overall weirdness of the situation, and it was plenty weird for sure, I could not help but enjoy the physical sensations from my dick bouncing around in this moist and slippery playhouse. And though experience had led me to expect censure for engaging in solitary pleasure, there was not even a hint of disapproval on the men's faces.
Suddenly, it dawned on me: perhaps this was the same sort of prank that had been played on Buck behind the thrift store. Maybe Buck was playing the role of Officer Thomas, pretending that I was in trouble and making a display of my `punishment,' when really, it was all for fun.
I couldn't imagine any other explanation. I just wasn't sure who was the butt of this joke, me or Charlie? Or both? In any case, I immediately felt much better and somehow restored as I completed my first exercise.
"Well, you seemed to enjoy that." Charlie sounded amused. "At least I can tell your undies did."
I looked down and to my horror saw that a large drop of my nectar had soaked through the front of my briefs and was threatening to drip on the floor. I quickly dabbed at it and wiped it across the back of my briefs.
"Now let's see you touch your toes. Can you touch your toes, Hankie boy?"
Actually, I was pretty limber, especially in my hips and had no trouble touching my toes. However, as I bent over, I could feel the newly wet spot against my butt.
Charlie seemed impressed. "Oh, very good. Let's see you hold that. Now, spread your legs out wide and see if you can place your palms on the floor."
This was a stretch I was very familiar with from swimming, wrestling, and track, and felt very comfortable in the position.
"Oh, he's very limber." Charlie observed.
Buck's voice came from behind me, "Yes, he's a very impressive young man, when he's not playing with himself and dripping everywhere." I assumed he had noticed the wet spot on my ass. He added, "His hamstrings must be very nicely stretched."
This made me nervous, having Buck sitting behind me while I was bent over like this, and he sounded very close. The only possible thing worse would be for him to say...
"Turn around, Hankie, and let Charlie get a good look at those hamstrings."
"Um, ok." I muttered a little hesitantly.
"What was that, Sailor?" Buck sounded a warning.
"Sir, yes sir!" I snapped sharply, back in what I thought was my role in this skit. I turned around determined to impress our guest and spread my feet as far as I could so that when I bent over, I could almost touch my elbows to the floor. I looked back at Charlie from between my knees and shot him a big smile.
"Oh, that is really something." Charlie seemed captivated by my performance.
I had always craved the attention and approval of grown men, but never imagined this was how I might earn it. In any case, as awkward as the situation was, something about it was oddly comforting, maybe because it was in such a total contrast to the ridicule I'd suffered from teammates in high school.
"Well done," said Buck in a surprising change of tone. "Now, at ease and listen up."
I stood to the side between the two men and straightened my soggy briefs.
"Now, Charlie here is going to the beach this weekend and wants to make sure he's gonna look his best so he can find a nice girlfriend. He's been working hard on his muscles, and he wants to practice some poses he can strike on the beach to look his best. His little brother used to help him pose, but he's not here, so we're gonna help, OK?"
Charlie jumped out of the recliner and stood before us looking eager to start. He was big and muscular, if a little on the thick side, like maybe he had played defense on his school football team.
Like Chip today in class, he wore a tank top and basketball shorts. I wondered if Charlie was freeballing under those shorts like Chip had been. The image of Chip's dick snaking out his shorts in the library flashed in my mind before I pulled myself back into the moment.
I could tell Charlie was pleased to have someone new look at him. "My little brother really likes my biceps," and he struck a front double biceps pose. "What do you think?"
"Wow!" I reacted, sincerely impressed. "That's some pair of guns you're packing there, sir." Charlie's face glowed like a lamp.
Seemingly pleased with how things were going so far, Buck herded us down to the basement gym and over to the trifold mirror. Setting the small stage in position, he said, "So, first off, Charlie, what swimsuit ya gonna wear? That can make a big difference."
Charlie shrugged his shoulders and looked around. "Jeez, I don't know. I'm kinda tired of the ones I got. Any ideas?"