Jeremy Gets Punished

My 20 year old daughter Cara is home for the weekend. Normally she lives with her mother, but she likes the freedom I allow her. She arrives around midday on Saturday, takes off her big sunglasses and kisses me on the cheek. Christ she's a lovely kid. She's hardly put down her bag when she says she's going to cook dinner for me and, by the way, can she have a couple of friends over this afternoon.

She knows I'll give her anything she asks and doesn't wait for an answer before going to the fridge and checking what I've got in stock. She sees the left over pizza, row of beers, carton of orange juice, open tin of peaches, looks over her shoulder and says, 'You drink this juice straight from the carton, don't you?' I nod.

She makes up a shopping list and I get some sandals on and head down to the shops. By the time I get back, there's half a dozen of her friends lounging round the pool, including her current boyfriend, Andre, a super cool architecture student whose mother is Vietnamese. We nod -- he's OK -- and amongst the others I only recognise Jeremy, a friend of Cara's from school days. He is a skinny pale youth in baggy cut off jeans with fresh jagged edge tattoos on his weedy biceps, a barbell through one eyebrow and a skin head hair cut. Obviously he's turned into a waster. He gives me a tough scowl and I crunch his pussy hand when we shake, smiling as if unaware that he's in pain. I get introduced to the others whose names I instantly forget and who are remarkable only for their perfect tans, tinted hair and expensive accessories -- one of them is no doubt the owner of the Audi that's parked out front.

I grab a beer and sit with Cara and Andre for a half hour, then head inside to watch the cricket on TV. There's a break in the game and I go to the kitchen for another beer. There are squeals from the pool and I look over. The beautiful people are splashing each other, though not in a way that would mess their hair. Cara and Andre are in the deep end, faces an inch apart, hands no doubt busy at waist level. Jeremy is lounging back, smoking and drinking one of my beers. He sees me looking and takes a pull at his beer, his middle finger going up. I think about returning the salute, but shrug my shoulders and return to the TV.

Another break in the game and I look out the kitchen window again. The girls have their bikini tops off and are lying in a row sunbathing. Cara's tits are small, round and tanned. I wonder where she inherited them from because they're nothing like her mother's which, even at that age, were oversized and low hanging.

A couple of hours later people are leaving. Cara sees them off then comes over to the couch and kisses my cheek. 'There's a party on at Phillipa's,' she says. 'I'm going with Andre, and I'll be back to cook your dinner. OK?' I nod and a few minutes later I hear the front door slam.

I'm watching Shane Warne bowl another magic over when I hear a girl's laughter from the back yard. Shit! I thought everyone had gone. I go through to the kitchen and look out the window. A dark haired girl whose name I can't remember is lying back on the lounge, bikini top on the ground, holding her little tits out to Jeremy. He drags on what looks like a joint and reaches a hand out to fondle.

I storm outside. They look up as the screen door slams and the girl squeals and grabs up her bikini. Jeremy gets a fright then tries to look tough. I stride up and without pausing give him a smack on the ear that knocks him onto his butt on the paving. I try to grab his hair, but it's too short and I can't get a grip. So I pick him up by his scrawny throat and smack him on the ear again. His face is all red and veins are popping out all over the place. There's a trickle of blood from behind his ear and I slap the side of his face hard enough to make his teeth rattle.

'You little prick,' I growl. His eyes bulge and I can see he's terrified. 'You come in here with drugs. I oughta call the police.' I see from his eyes that he really doesn't want that and give him another smack on the ear that knocks him back on his butt. He scuttles out of range and I bunch my fists. 'Clear off,' I say. 'You've got 10 seconds.'

He reaches for a bag and his t-shirt that are under the lounge and I kick his hand, making him yelp. He holds his scraped knuckles and I step forward and kick his bony knee, making him howl. '5 seconds.'

He grabs his stuff, scrambles to his feet and runs to the side gate. He can't undo the catch and, feeling me coming up behind him, starts to climb over. I land a solid satisfying punch in his kidneys then heave him up. He loses his balance at the top and falls over the other side, picks himself up and limps down the side of the house. I open the gate and walk after him. He hobbles to the Audi and fumbles with the keys. He gets it open and locks the door before I get there. I pound the roof and kick the door, making a dozen dents, before he gets it going and peels away from the kerb leaving rubber on the pavement. I get one more kick in that shatters the tail light. I figure he's borrowed the car from his mother and briefly wonder how he's going to explain the damage.

Laughing, I walk back down the side of the house. I haven't had so much fun since I used to play football. Jeremy's little bag is in the long grass by the side gate. I open it expecting to find bathers and sun cream or something, but that's not what he was carrying. It contains a couple of plastic bags of pills -- one lot pink and round, the other yellow and hexagonal. It also has a small bag of white powder, over $800 in $20 and $50 notes, and two mobile phones.

I feel sick to my stomach. The little bastard has been dealing drugs and quite possibly selling to my daughter.

The dark haired girl has made her escape and I spend the next half hour tidying up the pool area, trying to calm down. I go inside and flush the drugs down the toilet then smash the mobile phones with a hammer and clip the sim cards in half with shears. I put the cash in my wallet -- hey, $800 is $800!

Cara doesn't come home until nearly 1am -- so much for the dinner she was going to cook me. She's heard that I beat up Jeremy and says that all her friends think I'm a legend. She waves her hand airily when I ask her about the drugs and she says yeah, Jeremy deals and a couple of her friends get party drugs from him, but it's nothing hard. Yes, she's got ecstasy from him a couple of times in the past, but she had a bad reaction the last time and hasn't used it again. It's good to chat about these things and I eventually go to bed with my mind at ease. I didn't tell her about finding Jeremy's bag.

Cara leaves late the next morning saying she's having lunch with Andre's family and that she'll phone during the week. I have a round of golf planned and leave the house just after midday. I'm half way to the golf course when I realise I've left the membership renewal on the desk in my study. It's overdue and I won't get on the course without it so have to turn round and go home.

I park in the driveway and rush in the front door. The study is the second door down the hall and someone dashes out of it and away to the back of the house. I get over the surprise, recognise that it is Jeremy, and set off in pursuit. I catch him trying to get out the kitchen window and drag him backwards and onto the floor, ripping his shirt right down the back. I kneel heavily on his chest and get a choke grip on his throat.

'What the fuck are you doing, you little prick!' His face is going purple and I ease off. He splutters and I slap his cheek. 'Well?'

'Give me back my bag,' he demands, eyes blazing. I give him another slap, harder this time, and I see his eyes tear up from the force.

'Let me see,' I say in a calm but nasty voice. 'You bring drugs into my house, deal them, then break in the next day and rob me.' His eyes look apprehensive. 'I think it's time to ring the police.'

He has a sudden burst of energy and tries desperately to push me off, but I'm at least 50kg heavier than him and just laugh and slap him round a bit more, making his nose bleed.

'Yeah,' I say, taking my mobile phone out and holding it up. 'Maybe I'll call your parents first, then the police.'

This breaks him and I feel the fight go out of his body. I start dialing some random number and he gets a look of panic.

'Stop!' he says. 'Stop! Look, I didn't mean any harm.' I ignore him and keep punching buttons, shake my head and start again. 'Stop!' he says, frantic now. 'Please! I'll do anything, just stop phoning!'

I pause and see a look of hope in his weasel eyes. Then I shake my head and continue punching buttons.

'Please!' he cries out, almost hysterical. 'I'll do anything! What do you want!' I pause again, make a show of thinking.

'OK,' I say. 'You can start by sucking my cock.'

'What?' he says in disbelief. I sigh and start with the phone again. 'No, no,' he says. 'I'll do it.' I smile and pat his cheek, then get off his chest and stand. I can see that he thinks about making a run for it, but then realises he won't get two steps. He sees from my eyes that I'm serious and gets to his knees, hesitantly reaches for my pants and undoes them. I get a restraining grip on his shoulder as I step out of first my shoes and socks, then my slacks and then my shorts. He looks doubtfully at my cock until I give him a slap on the side of the head, then he's quick to lean forward and take it in his lips. I hold the back of his head and hump, slowly getting hard in his hot little mouth. He is making gutteral noises and I pull him down harder, enjoying the way he gags around my dick, feeling myself go fully hard.

'Oh yeah,' I say. 'You've got a nice hot pussy mouth.' I start to fuck back and forth but he's just being a passive lump of meat. I pull all the way out and cock slap his face. 'Listen kid,' I say, an edge of meanness in my voice. 'If you want that bag back you better suck my cock real good.' Then I jam my dick back between his lips and wait. 'That's better,' I say as he starts with the lips and tongue. 'Just imagine I'm your supplier.' He stiffens, then lets the insult go, concentrating on the dick in his mouth. He's doing pretty well now, bobbing back and forth a little, maybe hoping to get me off quickly.

'Oh yeah,' I say. 'You're a great little cock sucker. I bet you've been blowing guys since high school.' He prickles and gives me an angry look but I just jam harder into his mouth and he looks away and tries to stop from gagging. 'Yeah,' I continue. 'I can see you love the taste of dick. Here, suck my balls and taste those.' He does and I make sure he does a good job. Then I put my cock back in that hot little mouth. 'Yeah, show me all your tricks, you little cunt.' He twists his face when I tell him, sucks hard, tongues my piss slit, takes my seven inches into his throat. I take a few photos with my phone and his eyes blaze until I smack him.

Finally I'm in danger of cumming. I pull out of his mouth and look down indulgently. 'OK,' I say and pat his cheek. 'You did real good. Wait here while I go and get something.' I see relief in his eyes -- is it because I didn't cum in his mouth or is it because he thinks I'm getting his bag or is it both?

He's on his feet ready to leave when I come back in. The expectant look dies in his eyes when he sees I've got a DVD camera in one hand and a jar of Vaseline in the other.

'Get you're clothes off, pretty boy,' I say.

'But what about my bag?' he stammers. I put the Vaseline on the kitchen counter and smack him on the side of the head. He staggers back and I punch him in the solar plexus. He doubles up on the floor, gasping for breath. I push his head between his knees and tell him to take slow breaths. After a couple of minutes he recovers and I clamp his jaw in one hand and bring his frightened face close.

'Now take off your fucking clothes, grease up my dick and bend over the counter,' I say with all the menace I can muster. I stand back and start filming. He doesn't move until I kick him, then he gets to his feet and hurriedly strips. Naked, he's not bad looking. His skin is creamy, very little body hair, nice narrow waist and slender butt. The tattoos make him look like a try-hard. His dick and balls are shrivelled up in their nest and when he sees me looking at them I make a jeering look that causes him to blush. Still filming, I nod at the Vaseline, following his hand with the camera as he picks it up and coats my cock.

'Stroke it,' I hiss and he does so, bringing me to full hardness again. I detect that he's not exactly hating this and smile to myself as he gently tugs the foreskin back and forth over my cock head. I let him do it for a minute or two then put a hand on his upper arm and turn him to face the counter. A hand firm in the middle of his back and he is leaning compliantly forward, then a light smack on his butt and he is holding his cheeks apart.

His anus is so small and neat looking, and the skin of his butt so flawless that I'm seriously tempted to get my face in there and give him a serious eating out. But that's not on the agenda today and I content myself with getting it on film in all its glory before dabbing it with grease. He flinches as my finger wipes up and down and stifles a gasp when I push gel in through his sphincter. I want to finger him, enjoy opening his butt right up, but that also is not on today's agenda. What is on today's agenda is that this kid is gonna be fucked in punishment.

I set the camera on a chair, get behind Jeremy, use my thighs to push his legs wide and lean my weight on his back. I grab my cock and it takes a couple of seconds before I get it lodged against his pucker. I hold his upper arms tight and bite his shoulder, making him tense.

'This is gonna hurt you much more than it'll hurt me,' I murmur close to his ear and jag forward. Between my well greased pole and his lubed anus, there's not as much resistance as I hoped. Even so, I'm stretching him wide and he squeals and tries to pull away. It's a great struggle and it takes me a few moments to skewer him all the way. Once my thighs are pressing against his butt the fight goes out of him and he slumps against the counter. I check the tilted screen of the camera to make sure we're still in the frame, then give him a couple of hard thrusts. He whimpers and snuffles and begs me in a little boy's voice to stop.

'Don't tell me you're a virgin,' I mock, and give him a couple more thrusts. 'A little faggot like you? A champion cock sucker? Never had a dick in this pretty arse?' I hump away, noting after a while that the whimpering has stopped. I feel his anus flex round my dick and realise he is beginning to enjoy it. I fuck him harder, making him moan in discomfort/pleasure, then start slapping his butt in time with my thrusts. He doesn't like this, especially when welts start appearing, but I'm enjoying his squirming and gasping. I pull him upright and turn him towards the camera. Sure enough his cock is straining up against his smooth belly, precum glistening at its tip.

'Yeah,' I grin. 'You're a real little faggot alright!' I turn him back to the counter, bend him forward again and give him a dozen hard smacks on his already crimson butt. Then I stand upright, only the head of my cock still in his tight arse and wait. It is only a moment or so before he starts to fuck himself on me. I laugh and smack his bum till he cries out with each blow.

'You fucking little slut,' I say. 'You teased me with that hot little mouth and tight little butt while all the time you just wanted a good hard bum fucking.' I fuck him hard again then pull him upright, grab his hard dick and jerk it. In only three or four strokes he jets a huge stream onto the counter, his anus clenching round my buried dick. I keep stroking until he's done then push the back of his head till his face is rubbing in his own semen.

'Eat up your mess, you little shit,' I say. 'You fucking cum all over my kitchen, you're gonna fucking clean it up. Now eat!' His tongue starts lapping and I feel his anus spasm again. I laugh. 'You are such a fucking slut faggot,' I say. 'Turned on form eating your own cum. I bet you do that all the time, huh? Pull your little dick every night in bed then eat the jizz off your stomach.' He struggles but I've got him pinned and smear his face in the mess again. 'Come on! Clean that shit up!'

It's a hot sight and I feel my balls lift. I hold off until the counter is clean, fucking only gently now, then pull out, spin him down and push him to his knees. His face is glistening with cum, his lips all red, nose crusty with blood, his eyes glazed. I jam my cock between his lips. It is streaked with brown and he tries to spit me out. I knock his head back against the cupboard and push harder, barely getting half in before I cum.

'Fucking suck it!' I yell as a couple of weeks' worth of semen gushes into his mouth. 'Eat my fucking cum!' He twists his face to try and escape, but I hold him in place and push all the way in. His eyes are kind of young and innocent as he swallows and this and the sight of a yellow rim in the corner of his mouth makes my cock jerk and spew again.

I hold until I'm satisfied that my balls are empty and my cock clean then slowly step back, wipe my flaccid dick all over his face and turn off the camera. I use Jeremy's shorts to wipe the sweat off my face and the remaining Vaseline off my groin then throw it at him.

'Listen good you little shit,' I say as he gets dressed. 'This film,' I hold up the camera, 'and these photos,' I hold up the phone, 'together with your bag are going to my solicitor this afternoon.' He looks startled, then afraid and starts to say something. I hold up my fist and he stops. 'You come near my daughter or my house again and the bag, with the phones, go to the police and these' I hold the camera and phone high, 'go on the internet. Got it?'

His face is white and he nods his head vigorously. His frightened look makes me want to rape his arse again, but the fact is I reckon it will be hours before I can get hard again. I content myself with slapping his face one last time.

'Now get the FUCK out of my house!' I yell. He turns and scurries down the hallway. I'm on his heels and land a couple of good kicks before he's out through the front door and haring down the driveway. I'd chase after him, but I've got no clothes on and would probably frighten the neighbours.

I look at my watch. I've long missed my golf spot. I get a beer from the fridge, slump on the couch and turn on the cricket. Warnie is bowling again and I toast the TV, take a long swig, and settle down to an afternoon of cricket.