The Unforgettable Weekend

I didn't want to be here. I was more than old enough to take care of myself, I'd just turned eighteen damn it, but my mother insisted I stay with Mrs. Johnson for the weekend, while my mother went on a work trip.

We'd moved to the neighborhood years ago, and my mother and Mrs. Johnson were friends, but I hated her. She was too strict, and never let anyone have any fun. I went to school with her daughter, Rebecca, and sure she was cute, but too much like her mother for my tastes.

Anyway, I sat, sullenly, in the living room, while Mrs. Johnson went on about rules for my visit.

"No smoking or drinking, Patrick, and..."

"I don't do either," I told her, resisting a sigh.

"Good, but don't give me lip, young man."

I stayed silent as she continued to list off rules, not paying attention, any more. It didn't matter I would just hide in the guest room anyway. Just two days, that was it. Perfectly doable.

"And dinner is..." she started.

"I'm going to just go to bed, if that's all right," I said quickly. "I don't feel that well. Might have a fever or something, who knows. I'll see you in the morning, though, all right?" I stood up and started to grab my back pack. "I don't want to be a bother, but thank you for letting me stay here," I added, hoping it would smooth my way out.

"A fever?" she asked.

"I mean, probably not, but I..." Damn it.

"Oh no, come here, let's make sure you're all right, I wouldn't want your mother to her that I let you get sick and sicker while under my care. I'll just get a thermometer, you stay put."

Shit. Well. Whatever, she'd find no fever, but I could stand by not feeling well, and still get away with it. She came back and gestured me over to the living room table. I walked over, and held out my hand for the thermometer.

"Just drop your pants and bend over the table and we'll get this over with," she said.

I stood there and stared at her, in shock. "What? No."

"What do you mean no?" she asked. "Young man, you'll do as your told while your in this house or they'll be punishment. Your mother knows I run a tight ship and she agreed I might have to keep you in line."

"I won't break any of your rules," I said, "but I am not dropping my pants, in the middle of the living room." I kept my voice as calm as I could.

"Patrick," Mrs. Johnson said harshly, "I will give you one more chance to behave like a good young man, as you should, but don't test me. If I have to punish you tonight, so help me I will. And if you think you'll resist me, don't. If I have to call your mother..."

There it was. Her threat. And she had me, honestly. My mother would get on the phone, blame me for ruining her work trip and claim everything bad that happened the rest of the weekend was my fault. It would be non-stop for weeks, or longer.

"Please," I tried, "can't we use a normal thermometer, one that goes in my mouth?"

"Oh so you're just embarrassed," she said, and I hoped maybe she'd understand or something, I don't know why I thought it. Don't be silly, I don't care about seeing your you-know-what. I've seen them before, you know. Don't care at all. Now, drop your pants and bend over the table."

"Mrs. Johnson..."

"All right, I told you I would punish you. You just can't be good, can you? Fine, while you're there you'll get a spanking. Now do as I say before I call your mother."

Oh, God damn it. Damn it. I cursed loud and long in my head but I couldn't see a way out of this anymore. Not that didn't end worse for me. If my mother spent all that time blaming me, making me do every single chore, just made my life hell for weeks, I...

I took a deep breath and stepped close to the table, not looking at Mrs. Johnson. I unbuckled my pants, slowly, still refusing to look at her, and pulled my pants and boxers down as one. Then I leaned forward, bending at the hips, until my hands grabbed the edge of the table.

"That's what I thought," she said, and I could hear the smirk in it. I hated her then, more than anyone.

"Spread your legs more," she said, her voice behind me. Gritting my teeth I did as told, and could feel a light breeze from the fan in the room hit the back of my balls as her were fully exposed between my legs from behind.

I'll admit, I never once expected to have my dick out in this living room. Never occurred to me. But here I was, naked from the waist down, bent over, and legs spread.

"Oh hold on," she said, "I forgot the Vaseline. Just stay there, like that."

I heard her footsteps move away and wanted to stand up, to cover myself, to do something, but knew if I did she'd be back soon enough to catch me and this would only get worse.

So I stood there. I just fucking stood there, like an idiot.

A few seconds later her footsteps came back and she muttered something to herself, low, that I couldn't hear. Her hand rested on my right ass cheek and I startled a bit.

"Oh relax," she said, "I just need to spread these a bit, don't over-react. I swear, kids today..." she trailer off and I tried to focus on anything else.

Then a chilly, hard, and slimy object pressed against my asshole. It wasn't big, or anything, but still. I shut my eyes tight as she slid the thermometer into my ass.

"There you go, it'll just be a minute," she said, her hand still resting on my ass.

A minute later, or a month, I couldn't be sure, and I felt her slide the thermometer out of my ass. I released a small breath, then hissed it back in as she wiped my ass with a tissue quickly. As if I couldn't have done that myself? Come on!

"There we go, all done. And see, no fever after all."

"Well," I said, letting go of the table and reaching for my pants quickly, "I still feel a bit off so I Should just go to bed."

"What do you think you're doing, Patrick?" she asked, her voice tinged with annoyance.

"Pulling my pants up?" I said it as a question, not sure why she would be asking me. I had my hands on my waist bands. Did she think I would just shuffle off to the guest room fully exposed, or something?

"There's still your punishment," she said. "Get back into position."

"Excuse me?" I asked.

"For your spanking. Let go of those pants, and grab the table again, young man. Don't think I'll go easy on you, either. This could've been over and done with a while ago if you had just behaved."

I wanted to curse her out, but I didn't see a choice. Fine, let her spank my ass a few times, then I could get away from her.

"Spread your legs more," she said, standing at my side.

"I can't spread them any further," I told her. It was true, my pants and underwear bunched around my feet prevented it.

"Step out of those pants, then, I don't have all day."

Fine, just fine. Not like she couldn't see, correction: hadn't seen, everything down there already. My balls hung there, and thankfully my dick stayed soft, all six inches of flaccid cock on display to her from the side. I couldn't imagine also being hard in front of her. This was bad enough as it was.

Thwack!

No warning, she just hit me, hard. I yelped and jumped. It hurt!

"Stay still, Patrick," she said, "and quiet. No need to be dramatic."

Dramatic? No, it hurt. She had hands like steel. Fuck.

Thwack!

"Ow!" I let out, biting the word back as soon as I could.

"I told you...

"It hurts. Look I'm sorry I didn't just obey you. Can we just be done?"

"Oh no, young man, not yet."

Thwack!

Thwack!

Thwack!

Thwack!

They rained down on me, on both cheeks, and I bit my lip almost to the point of bleeding, trying to stay quiet so she didn't get mad and add more. More? How many was she going to do? I didn't even know.

Thwack!

Thwack!

Ow! Wait was that a door closing?

I startled at the idea of someone else coming in and started to turn to look. My body twisted as her hand was already in motion and...

Thwack!

Her palm hit my ass as hard as ever, but her fingers shifted over, due to the way I turned and smacked my balls squarely, and hard.

"Argh!" I dropped to my knees in pain. My vision swam a bit. Oh god that hurt. I thought I might throw up.

"Rebecca, why are you back so early?" I dimly heard Mrs. Johnson say.

Oh my god. No.

"And you," Mrs. Johnson said, "What are you doing, acting ridiculous, on your feet!"

"You hit," I swallowed, as she pulled me up by my arm, my hands both covering my junk, "you hit my balls," I complained.

Rebecca and I locked eyes. I couldn't tell you whose were wider in disbelief. What if she told everyone in school about this? And described my...what could I do? Oh my god.

"Move your hands and get back in position," Mrs. Johnson said. "So, Rebecca, why are you back so soon?"

"Can Rebecca leave, please? I..."

"Oh you think my Rebecca cares what you look like down there, do you?" Mrs. Johnson said, sneering.

Thwack!

I wasn't even bent over, but it still hurt. My ass burned in pain.

"Turn around to face me," Mrs. Johnson said.

"What?"

"You heard me."

I stood up straight and turned around, my hands cupping my dick and balls tightly.

Rebecca stood there, by her mother's side. Cute brunette bob haircut, and a devilish smile, Rebecca stared at me, locking eyes with me. Her small breasts pushed against a cotton button down shirt, and her long legs barely hid under a short skirt. We were in some of the same classes, and the same age.

Slowly her eyes started to move down, her gaze dropping.

"Hands at your side, young man," Mrs. Johnson said, now just fully intended to embarrass me as much as possible.

"But Mrs. Johnson..."

She snaked a hand out quickly and reached between my clasped hand. I don't know how she did it but her aim was perfect and she pinched the tip of my dick, really hard.

I yelped, and moved my hands.

"Is this," she asked, loosening her grip but picking up my penis to hold it, still soft, perpendicular to the floor, "what you're so proud of and afraid that we want to see? What ego."

I didn't speak. I couldn't, for the shock of it all.

"Go to the guest room and think about what you've done and what brazen ego you have, thinking anyone would care about seeing this...thing." She dropped my penis and shook her head in disgust at me.

I grabbed my pants and underwear off the floor, and just held it in a wad in front of my crotch. Scooping up my backpack I practically ran to the guest room.

I got inside and closed the door. I sat down and, ouch, nope I stood. Fuck me, my ass hurt. My balls still stung, too, as did the tip of my dick. I tossed the little doorknob lock on the door and stood there, thinking. I wanted to put my clothes back on but the way things hurt it would be better to just stand around a few and let the pain ease everywhere.

A few minutes later a soft knock on the door, and then the doorknob rattled, as it got turned. Thankfully it was locked.

"Sorry I'm not...I don't feel..."

The doorknob turned again and the door opened.

I grabbed my crotch to cover myself as Rebecca came into the room, and quickly put away a key she'd used to open the door.

"Hey!" I said, "Get out!"

"Shhhh," she replied, "if we aren't quiet mom will come, and if she does who do you think will get in trouble? Me or the half naked boy?"

I grimaced.

"What do you want?" I asked her.

"I want you to drop your hands, for a start. I didn't get a good look before."

"What? No way," I insisted.

"Or I could just call out for mom and we can see what her next punishment is like? I saw your ass, you'll gonna hate sitting for a while, my friend. You want to double down on that?"

I dropped my hands to my side. "Fine," I said, feeling defeated, "happy now?"

"Happier," Rebcca conceded. "But, I think you should lose the shirt, too."

"Oh come on," I protested.

"Hey, is showing me your torso really so bad, given what I can see now?"

She had a point, I guess. I took my shirt off and dropped it on the floor.

"Thank you," she said, smiling that wicked smile of hers. "But I Think we're still missing something."

"Uhm, I can't get any more naked."

"But you could get," she grinned at me, "harder. For me? Please?"

"Rebecca," I said, "no way, come on this has gone on far enough."

"What if," she asked, talking a step closer to me, "I helped?"

"W..what?"

She reached down and gently grabbed my dick.

"Rebecca...I..."

She started to stroke me, softly, gently, looking into my eyes, that damn grin promising me all sorts of things. "So you're here tonight and tomorrow night, huh?" she asked, leaning in to whisper directly into my ear.

My cock got hard almost instantly then, growing to its full seven inches. "Yes," I whispered.

"Oh good." Rebecca let go of my dick, and stepped back to look at me. I smiled at her. She smiled at me. I didn't know why she'd stopped but thought maybe she wanted to get out of her own clothes.

Instead she whipped out her phone and took a picture of me. Fully naked, and hard.

Oh my god.

"Rebecca!" I said, too loudly.

"Shhh!" she replied, and shook her head, "I swear you startle too easy. So this, picture," she said, messing with her phone, "goes to some friends at school..."

"You can't." I insisted, keeping my voice low. "I don't care, call your mother, get me in trouble with her and my mother, and I don't care, no way, don't send that picture."

"Aww, Patrick," she said with a fake frown, "I already did though. But I tell you what."

"What?"

"If you do what I say, right now, I promise no one else will ever see it."

"You can't promise that," I said, "who knows what they'll do with it."

"Oh they'll listen to me, they always do. Just like you will. So do we have a deal? Say no and I'll make sure not only do you get in major trouble now, but that picture circulates to everyone in town. Everyone."

"Blackmail?"

"Oh no, Patrick, that's not the blackmail. That's just one little picture. This is going to be the blackmail," she said it matter-of-factly as if I were stupid. Which, given the situation I was in I guess I might've been.

"What is?" I asked, afraid of the answer.

"Finish off for me."

"Excuse me?"

"Keep stroking yourself, right to the edge and beyond. I want to see you cum for me."

I looked down, "I'm not even hard anymore. Blackmail kinda takes it out of me."

"Oh please," she said, "you're a guy. Get to work. I don't have battery for days," she said holding her phone up and pointing it at me.

"Hey, what are..."

"I'm filming, shush, don't ruin a good take. Now jerk off for me."

I tried to think of a good way out of it, but my mind went blank. I just stood there.

"Aww come on, Patrick, that dick was plenty hard a minute ago. I know. Hmm I tell you what, I'll make it easier for you." She reached her free hand up and started undoing buttons on her shirt. "A little incentive, for a good boy," she said, smirking again.

She tugged her shirt open with one hand, pulling this way and that, to reveal a pink bra cupping her small tits. I still just stood there. I would figure a way out of this.

She reached up again and undid the front clasp of the bra, pulling it away and revealing her chest to me. Her breasts were, honestly, perfect. Small and perky, beautiful small bright pink nipples and quarter sized areola, scrunched up with her obvious pleasure at being seen.

My dick got hard almost instantly, betraying me.

She laughed softly, "Why thank you," she said, speaking directly toward my hard cock, "I like you too. Now, Patrick, for the camera?" She held up her phone and I...

I gave in.

I started to stroke my dick, slowly, looking her in the eyes, and trying to forget there was a camera capturing this forever. She smiled back at me, and I swear if she hadn't been a manipulative evil, woman, with a hardcase mother, and wasn't blackmailing me, I would've been totally into her.

I stroked faster and harder, wanting to just get this over with. She nodded at me and moved slightly, toward the desk in the room, for a different angle. She grabbed the box of tissues there.

My hand moved over my dick again and again and I grew closer to cumming.

I hated myself a little bit, but was also lost in her eyes then. She held out the box of tissues and I grabbed a few, wading them up.

"Don't block our view of the main event," she whispered.

I closed my eyes in shame, in passion, in confusion, really. But the feelings had run away with my hand stroking myself.

I came, hard, holding the tissues just in front of and below my dick, catching as much of my cum as I could.

Rebecca put the phone away and nodded. She closed her bra and rebuttoned her shirt. "You should clean up," she said, "and tomorrow...well tomorrow we'll have more fun." She held up the phone as she left the room quietly. "Or else."

Oh god. I didn't want tomorrow to arrive. I also couldn't wait, if I was honest. I didn't know what to do, or what to think. So in a fugue or light panic, total embarrassment at the events of the evening, and confusion at my own feelings toward them I went to bed.

To say I slept badly would be an understatement. But eventually morning came and I got out of bed. The house was small, the upstairs only being made up of a short hallway, with four doors off of it. One of those was the guest room I slept in.

Directly across from it was the bathroom. Down the hall a bit was Rebecca's room, of the same side as the bathroom, and then a fourth door I didn't know, I think it was a closet.

I crossed the hall and closed the bathroom door behind me, taking care of normal morning things and then getting in the shower. The hot water felt good and my mind slowly grew calmer. I would just have to find a way to get Rebecca's phone, or something, and get rid of that recording. Assuming she hadn't actually sent the photo anywhere. I didn't know, but just then I let the water wash away my problems.

Right up until the door opened and Mrs. Johnson barged in.

"Hey, oh sorry, I'm just taking a shower!" I said quickly, covering myself with my hands. Yeah she'd seen to all before, but instinct is instinct, and it wasn't as if I was suddenly all right with her seeing me nude.

"And taking far too long," she said harshly.

"I'll be done soon," I said.

"Fine," she said just standing there.

"Could you leave and close the door?" I asked.

"Why, so you can just linger? Besides, you said you weren't feeling well, so I need to check on you."

"You can check on me after I get out of the shower?" I tried.

She just sighed at me and stood there. So much for that. I went back to showering, trying to ignore her. At least turning away, and the opaque shower curtain, gave me some level of privacy.

"Mother!" Rebecca's voice came from the doorway and I fought back a sigh. Of course she'd make sure she was here to see this.

"What is it, dear?" her mother asked. How she managed to make the word 'dear' sound so mean I'll never know.

"I need to shower!" Rebecca said.

"I've told Patrick to hurry up. But even so," Mrs. Johnson continued, "he wasn't feeling well last night so I need to take care of that."

"But if you do that while I'm in the shower then he'd see..."

"I wouldn't," Mrs. Johnson said, "that would be totally inappropriate!" Oh sure, but it's fine for everyone in the house to see me naked. I saw how it was. "Which is why," she said, raising her voice on the last part, "he needs to hurry up."

I turned off the water, "Could you both leave so I could get out and..." Mrs. Johnson's sigh answered before I could finished asking. I got out of the shower, covering my crotch as best I could and tried to find a towel.

Mrs. Johnson looked annoyed and glanced at her watch. "Well, now you've done it, young man, I don't have time to treat you both."

"Oh, that's fine, mother," Rebecca cut in, "I don't feel bad at all."

"But he did..."