Date: Fri, 18 Feb 2005 06:18:26 -0600
From: Javiar Bautista <javiar722@hotmail.com>
Subject: Diary of a Whipping Boy, Part One

     Hi.  My name's Justin and I'm 17.  I should introduce myself so you can
picture me in your mind.  I have mostly ruffled blond hair that covers my
ears.  I say "mostly" because the blond part is only on top.  My true hair
color is brown.  I've wanted to get an earring for the longest time, but I'm
still in the closet, at least with everyone except this one guy I just met.
I'll get to him later.  I'm tall and tanned, slender-waisted and
broad-shouldered.  I'm bummed because I don't have any upper body hair, not
even in my armpits!  Yeah, I know, swimmer's bod.  People say I'm cute, with
my blue eyes and ruby-red lips, but I'm rather shy.  I'll be starting my
last year of of high school this fall and then it's off to college.
     One day when I was home alone in the afternoon, the doorbell rang.  It
was a hot and humid Ohio day, so I was wearing only a pair of gym shorts.  I
opened the door and this cute guy stood there, stunned for a second.  As he
introduced himself, he kept glancing back at my bare chest and stomach.  I
could tell he thought I was hot, but what was a shy boy supposed to do with
that information?  It turned that his name was Ryan and he lived down the
street.  In fact, he was already a sophomore at the college I was going to
attend.  He worked part-time as a gardener and wanted to know if we needed
any lawn mowing or grounds keeping done.  I told him I did the lawn mowing
myself and my mom tended to the flowers.  But he looked thirsty ... so ...
     "Want something to drink?" I asked.
     "Oh, yeah, that'd be great," Ryan responded.
     As Ryan followed me back to the kitchen, I could feel the weight of his
eyes on my bare back and long legs.
     I gave him a glass of iced tea and we chatted a while and then he asked
something that nearly knocked my socks off.
     "What's that belt hanging on the door for."
     I couldn't think of a lie fast enough, so I just told the truth.
"Sometimes I'm whipped."
     Ryan seemed genuinely concerned and asked, "Why?"
     "Oh, I don't know.  I'm just bad sometimes, I guess."
     "Where?" Ryan asked.
     "Down in the basement."
     "No.  I mean ... where on your body?"
     "Oh ... on my back ... my bare back ... and sometimes on my chest and
stomach, too."
     "Not your butt?"
     "When I was younger, yeah.  But I'm older now."
     "I don't think your bad," Ryan said.
     "Thanks," I responded, not quite knowing what else to say.  A sudden
wave of shyness washed over me and I looked away.  The silence was palpable.
  Then our eyes met and something was communicated.  What it was I'm not
sure, but what happened next didn't surprise either of us.
     Ryan reached up and caressed my cheek with his finger and said, "You're
a good-looking boy."
     "Thanks," I said.  As I sat there in my incredible shyness with my arms
at my sides, Ryan traced his fingers down my neck to my chest and toyed with
one of my quarter-sized nipples.  I liked the way he was touching me and it
showed through my growing tented shorts!
     "I think I'd like to see the basement," Ryan whispered.
     "Yeah ... Okay ...," I stammered, still collecting my breath.  Slowly,
I got up and led the way to the stairs.  On our way, out of the corner of my
eye, I saw Ryan take the belt off the hook.

To be continued.