Date: Mon, 27 Dec 2004 07:54:41 -0800 (PST)
From: Mouse
Subject: Mouse's Life: The Pool Part 4

Author's note: This is the fourth and final part to the pool whipping
series during the tenth year of my life four summers ago.  If you are not
into spanking you may not like these stories so please read
elsewhere. Please refer to Part 1 for my description. Look for more of my
spankings at home to follow. Enjoy!

...I yelled; "Ready Sir!"

"Hold on you!" The cute one said to me. "That's enough for today, you're
going to get whipped next time I say so."  The lifeguard then snatched his
belt back from Dave.

He smiled, and told us both to put back on our bathing suits and clear out
fast.  With a final warning--if we ever say anything to anyone, EVERYONE
would know that we were queer for each other!

Dave and I dressed in silence.  Sliding a wet Speedo over welts on legs and
buttocks didn't carry the relief one would think.  It ran cold chills
through my body as I tried unsuccessfully, to tug the suit outward and away
from my wounds, especially the bottom crease of by buns. Dave didn't look
like he faired any better with his heavy fabric style suit.  We both
grabbed up our towels and quickly headed out of the locker room and out of
the gate.

The days were numbered now and summer was coming to an end.  Labor Day was
this coming weekend and it was over a week since I had been back to our
pool much less talked to my best friend Dave.  I knew he was going away
with his dad and brothers and sister that weekend, so I figured it would be
safe to go back in the water. Duh-da, duh-da, duh-da (the Jaws theme
playing in my head). At ten you forget fear quickly and continue on with
life.

I arrived at the pool early not planning on talking with the cute guard or
his dumb cohort and leave while the pool was still swarming with the last
bathers of Summer 2000.  It was a mild day, sunny and a perfect end for the
summer and the start of my fifth grade year.  He spotted me right away and
motioned me to his guard stand.  I ignored him and walked over by some
other kids around my age and spread my beach towel out on the grass by the
diving board area. I climbed the high dive and gave a good three step
approach using perfect form and executed a canon ball - what did you
expect, I was ten.  After the sting in my butt and lower back subsided, I
swam out of the dive area to screw around with some of the guys.  We played
Marco Polo for a while then switched to Sharks and Minnows. (If you do not
know either game you flunked being a kid, go back and start over).  The
whistle blew and it was time for adult swim for the next 20 minutes.  I
went back and laid out on my towel thinking about which teachers I would
get this year as I stared out the pool fence across the parking lot to our
adjoining elementary school.  That's when his foot found my thigh. Thud!

"Get up now, and follow me, unless you want to discuss this right here!"
It was the cute guard.

I thought for a minute, it was only after one in the afternoon, four hours
from gate closing and the dressing room had to be full.  So I thought; what
can he possibly do to me here and without Dave.  Hey I was ten.  So I
followed him over to the pump house, which I have never been in before. It
was a small cement block shack with a large metal door.

"Inside perv!"

"Yes sir" I muttered as he unlocked and opened the door behind the shrubs.
I walked into the room and turned with my back against the huge pipes to
see him calmly shut the door and turn on the pull string light above me.

"Strip!" I jumped at his command and reached for my Speedo strings and
fumbled with them, stalling and trying to think of something to say, when
he slapped my hands out of the way.

"Let me do it" he said, as he started pulling my strings free of the bowed
knot that I had tied this morning in my bedroom.  He stretched the nylon
fabric wide enough to clear my skinny hips and slowly pulled them down past
my knees.

"Give 'em here."

"Yes sir."  I stepped out of them and handed them over to the guard.

I stood there, completely naked, while this teenager starred at me with an
evil grin.

"Did you forget your second punishment perv?"

I finally spoke, "Dave's not coming here, he is on vacation with his
family."

"I don't care. He's wasn't being whipped again, you are -- remember?"

I nodded my head, looking at the ground.  Thinking how stupid I was for
coming back to the pool this year.

He reached behind him near to the door and produced a real skinny stick
about three feet long, A SWITCH!  He apparently had been waiting for me to
show back up at the pool and had planned to use the pump house for my
second punishment.  With the noise of the pumps, their distance from the
sunbathers and pool, not to mention the music piped everywhere over the
speakers, and a locked private room - this was the perfect punishment site.
I started to cry softly.

My father had used the switch on me on occasion, so I knew the pain was
going to be more intense, especially when administered by a well-muscled
teen.

He set down the rules.

"I have an hour break and you are going to suffer the entire hour.  If you
scream you will only expose your self to what you were doing with your
boyfriend the last time you were here. Get the picture?!"

I nodded. I definitely got the picture.

"Good!  Now, I want you to turn around and face the pipes."

He then continued to instruct me in how to "assume the position of
obedience" by stepping back three feet from the head level pipe to a crack
in the cement, then to lean forward and place my hands on the pipe
stretching me to a forty-five degree angle.  He then kicked my feet wide
apart.  It was all I could do not to slide out of position.  I was ready to
be flogged.

He had me stand that way for a while.  I finally looked back to see what he
was doing and got a shock.  He was totally naked and hard as a rock!  He
had the switch in his right hand and his dick in the other staring at me
while he massaged his meat.  Then he smiled big as he snapped the switch up
and down close behind me so it made a loud swish cutting sound heard above
the noisy pumps.  After a minute or so of this mind game, he stepped into
position slightly behind me and to my left.

"Are you ready to be punished?"

"Yes sir."

"Do you remember how to count?"

"Yes sir."

"Do you know what happens if you move, scream or miscount?"

I thought for a moment and said; "You will make me start over, sir."

"Right you are my little man."

I turned my face back toward the pipe.  At my body's angle, I couldn't help
but look behind me and notice his feet position and legs up to his huge
boner still being slowly jerked.  Then I saw the shift of his weight and
heard the swish of the switch cutting the air.  I didn't hear the cracking
sound like the belt as I had several days before.  I remember feeling the
searing pain that sent shock waves all through my little body.  Time stood
still for me. I didn't know where I was for a minute. I couldn't breath
right. I gasped for air.

"Ahhh, One Sir!"

"That's better, I thought you were going to be stupid and let go of the
pipe."

My butt, legs, back and other parts had healed completely from the
thrashing Dave gave me last time.  I had successfully hid them from both my
parents and friends.  Yet I knew after this first stroke and his promise of
one hour of agony these marks would be around a little longer.

Swish, snap!  The second stroke hit slightly above the last one on my
middle butt checks.  At least I assume it was above or the fire I felt just
spread in that direction.

"Two Sir!"

Through tears, I could still see behind under my left arm that he was
taking his time stroking his woody.  His head was all purple and huge.  He
had lots of thick black curly hair all around it making it look really
cool.  His balls bobbed up and down with each pull of his hand.  I was
fascinated with this, as it was only the second boner I had ever seen in
the flesh and the first mature one.  I concentrated on his long hard dick,
figuring it would take some of the sting out of each lash.

Snap!

"Three Sir!"

I was crying harder and moaning, but not daring to yell, so none of my
friends would ever find out about what I did or my spankings.  He had a
dark tan as I did, and we were both very white where our Speedo tan lines
were.  I was mesmerized with how dark brown and purple his dick was.  All
my friends' looked like mine, small and light colored with no hair for
decoration.  I could even see his large pee hole, which seemed to cover
half of his large dick head.  To me at the time I thought his dick would
easily measure a foot long.  Now, with a little more experience, thinking
back, it was only a good 6 to 7 inches.  Yet, still bigger than average and
thick to boot. (A lot bigger and thicker than my nearly 4 inches of
steaming conga I have now-which I have rigorous plans to double it in size
during the next year when I hit my growth spurt).

Snap!

"Four Sir!"

The back of my right leg just under my bottom lit up with pain.
Immediately followed by a stroke to the same area on my left leg.

"Five Sir!"

My legs shook violently and I struggled to maintain a toehold on that crack
of cement, which he affectionately called my "punishment line."  It was
incredibly hot in that small room.  I cold feel the sweat dripping down my
back.  The roar of the pipes filled my ears and vibrated through my body.
I didn't feel the pain the way you would when I was in what I call my zone.
It was a natural high and it felt peaceful and calming, but at the same
time exhilarating. My heart seemed to beat in time with the pumps.  The
lifeguard fell into a rhythm as well, and I into a chant of calling off the
strokes of the switch upon my naked body.  Don't misunderstand, it was
still painful, but I had found a small way to make it bearable.  On and on
it went.

"35 Sir!"

The painful strokes ceased.  I stood leaning stretched against the pipes
feeling the sting run up and down the back of my legs and up onto my round
buttocks.  It was some minutes before I realized that he was lightly
touching my very warm butt.  I could feel the itchy tickling of his
fingertips caressing each welt.  I could feel his breath, which felt cool
on my sweaty back.  I looked back under my arm at him.  His penis, almost
touching me as he continued to masturbate it, while feeling my buttocks and
legs.  I was nervous, but comforted by this.  It was better than being
whipped, so I neither said nor asked anything.  This went on for a bit.  I
thought it might be over.  Until he picked back up the switch from the
ground and got back in position for punishing me.  I re-stretched for
position, placing my hands higher and apart and sliding my feet wider being
careful to keep my toes on the line.

SNAP!

"ARRGH, AH, OM, THRITY SOMETHING - SIR!"

I couldn't remember the count.  I was confused and shocked by the renewed
pain on my freshly spanked bottom.

"Start over!"

"Yes sir!"

SNAP!

"AHHH, ONE SIR!"

"Leave out the groans and just count!"

"Please sir, not so hard, it kills sir," I begged.

"You want to get queer in my locker room, you have to pay for it. Now start
over again!"

"Yes sir."

SNAP!

"one sir" I whispered through clenched teeth.

He was hitting as hard as he could.  I was now crying silently with heavy
sobs. I knew I deserved this whipping, but so did Dave and he wasn't even
here!

What muscles I had back then were clearly being strained beyond limits.
The stretching for the top pipe, trying not losing my grip and maintaining
the whipping line position was rough.  Add to that the agony of the switch
landing every 5 seconds on my battered butt and legs.  I finally started to
continuously plead and beg for mercy.

"Please sir, I have learned my lesson...I will be a good boy...I
promise...I promise...Oh please stop sir."

He just laughed and kept swinging his switch, over and over. I kept up the
pleading, though my words made no sense to me.  My mind wondered, I had
stopped counting, mumbling only gibberish.  This seemed fine with him, as
he knew he broke me and the strokes kept coming.  Thoughts and questions
filled my mind like a flood.  What is the meaning of life?  Does God exist?
Who invented rap and why?

It was a little while I suppose, before I noticed I was no longer being
whipped.  I looked back under my arm and watched him dress back into his
swimsuit.  I did not move from position.  He moved toward the door,
hesitated and then looked back at me.

"Reckon you learned not to get queer here any more, get dressed and get
out."

"yes ssssir." I whispered only to myself as the door slammed shut.

I slowly lowered my very stiff arms as I shuffled forward to carry my own
weight.  I wiped the tears mixed with sweat from my face and twisted as far
as I could to inspect the damage to my lower back half.  It was solid red
with white stripes outlined in purple up and down my legs.  My butt was one
solid mass of purple.  This was the best whipping I had received to that
point in my life.

I looked for my swimsuit and gingerly put it back on.  My butt was kind of
numb so it didn't really hurt much, but the chills still were uncomfortable
as I slid my Speedo up over the welts on my legs.

I wrapped my beach towel around me and slowly emerged from the pump house.
Everything was as it should be.  The music was playing, kids were splashing
and everyone was enjoying the last weekend of the summer pool sessions.  I
walked past the guard stand where the cute guard was sitting, back on duty
and swinging his whistle.  He smiled at me as I walked underneath him
toward the gate.

Hope you enjoyed the pool spanking series.  It was shortly after this in
the fall of fifth grade that my father invited his friend and his son into
helping with my corporal punishments every week.  Those lasted for over
three years.  So there is still a lot to go, before you catch up to me in
present day.