The Vacation House Ch. 02

As I lay back down on my side of the mattress, the cover sheet wrapped itself around my legs, causing it to pull completely off of my dad. He slowly lowered his formidable frame back down onto his side of the mattress as I turned once again onto my side, facing the blank wall just a few feet away.

I could see the shadow our bodies cast upon the wall, from the moonlight filtering into the room. One figure was all I could make out, it did not show that there were actually two full sized figures between the summer moon and the master bedroom wall.

I was so nervous, partially anticipation of what I was starting to imagine might come to be in just a few short hours, yet another part of me was scared to death. I lay as still and quiet as I could make myself and then I heard the comforting deep rhythmic drone of Dad's light snores.

He had fallen asleep so very quickly and I was still anxious and all jittery inside. Unable to force myself to sleep at will, I tried to clear my mind. This was just useless and I began to fidget a little more and more as the minutes passed. Every single sound that normally would have gone unnoticed seemed to be amplified. The crickets, the creaks of the house and the settling of the structure we have been building together for so many years.

My imagination wound me up to the point that I had to convince myself to stay in bed and not get up to do some work on the sheet rock that I knew Dad and I were going to be tackling this weekend. "No, I am just going to lay here and be normal. I am not going to wake Dad up. He's worked himself ragged all week and the little sleep he can catch is just something I have to afford him, even if I am just about to go off the deep end."

I don't even know when I had dozed off but I was awakened to the sound of the ringing of the small plastic wind up alarm clock on the floor next to Dad's side of the bed.

I rolled over and realized that he was not there, that I would have to stop that clanging noise and get myself up and find out what the morning was going to bring our way.

"6:05? 6:05? Why did he let me sleep in this late? Was he upset with me about what had happened last night?" My stomach dropped and I got to most nauseous feeling as a wave of sweat broke out all over my body. I began to shake a little as I slapped the top button of the alarm to it's off position and the room once again went silent, that is except for the thumping of my own heartbeat in my ears.

I tossed off the top sheet and quickly grabbed my work shoes and leaned up against the back wall in order to pull them on without even tying them up, my laces were left dangling. I pulled the dirty T-Shirt that I had worn the evening before over my head. I then walked to the partially closed bedroom door and stepped out into the hallway.

I stood for a moment, listening for any movement, any sound of running water. Not a sound, not a single peep met my ears, so I headed into the kitchen to find that it too was abandoned.

The table had been set with a few napkins and two mugs sat empty at the place where we would normally sit and eat our donuts and drink coffee before getting to the task of the days project.

Being compelled to check for myself to see if Dad had already gone into town to get supplies, I headed into the living room and stood in front of the large picture window. There was no Dad and no truck either. He must have gotten up and decided to get an earlier start.

While I was staring blankly out of the expansive front window, taking in everything and nothing of the green forest that surrounded the property the Vacation House was situated on, I noticed a bit of movement off in the distance as Dad's Pick-Up rounded the corner of the dirt drive.

The dirty truck came to a stop right in front of what would be a walkway one day and out jumped Dad with his arms laden down with brown paper bags. He kicked the drivers door closed with the bottom of his work boot as he turned his back to the truck and headed to the front entrance of the house.

I rushed to the door and almost tripped myself on the overturned milk crate that we used as a foot stool. I unlocked the door handle and opened it.

Dad walked in and I closed the door behind him only to follow him into the kitchen. He put the bags on the partially finished kitchen counter and set his Thermos of hot coffee down. He reached into one of the bags and removed the folded up newspaper, tossing it the several feet across the kitchen and landing it almost perfectly where he enjoyed his coffee and donuts.

"So, are you ready to get things started?" Dad's words came as a complete shock to my system. He so rarely spoke in the morning and before his coffee? NEVER!

Not absolutely sure of what had occurred the night before, I was afraid of just coming out and blurting something that might be taken in the wrong way. I figured if I just responded with some kind of ambiguous comment that I would be safe.

"What ever you want Dad, I'm up for anything you think we should do today." I heard myself saying this but was not positive that I did not come across as some sort of idiot.

"Robbie, if you are having cold feet about last night, I will understand and we don't ever have to talk about it ever again. This is your baby, I am going along for the ride to see where it leads us at this point, got me?"

It did happen I now convinced myself. I did not dream or imagine what I thought had happened. I was actually here and I had to make the first move. I had to get myself to just do what I had been thinking about, no obsessing about for some time now.

"Yep, Dad, you've got it. Where do you figure we should do it?" Boy that sure sounded like the most lame thing ever.

"Robbie, let's go into the living room and get it going in there."

Dad just turned on his heals, then as he walked toward me, took my hand into his own rough paw, gave it a tight squeeze and pulled me toward expansive but sparsely decorated room.

As we approached the folding chair that Dad normally sat in and relaxed with his pony beer after every long days labor, he sat down. He gazed right into my eyes, not flinching nor blinking. His pupils were large and BLACK, they appeared to fill the entire area between the top and bottom eyelids.

He settled himself down and pat his thigh which was covered in his well worn tan work pants. He wiggled himself back into the seat and assured himself of a stable sitting position.

I opened my mouth and began to speak but only a few words came out before I was cut short.

"No, don't do anything, don't touch anything. I am in control here, this is your punishment, and I am going to handle things and YOU in the way that I damned well see fit, got that?"

I was scared. The tone in his voice was no longer calming or happy. He did not sound mad either though. It was a tone completely foreign to me compared to any I had ever heard come from him.

Then he moved, both hands reaching up and grabbing at the elastic waist band of my black Calvin Klein form fitted boxer briefs. He pulled them down with such force that I felt as if he had left an Indian Sunburns on each side of my thighs as he forcefully yanked the stretchy fabric garment directly to the top of my feet.

"OUT! Out of them, NOW!"

I responded immediately, as I stepped out of them and and with my left foot, kicked the undergarment across the room.

Dad once again raised his hands, this time taking my left hand into his heavy calloused digits, while the other hand was very firmly placed upon my shoulder. I found myself being pulled down and across his slightly separated legs.

I wiggled a bit into place as I found that my privates parts were being mashed against the thickness of his right thigh. Dad then grabbed hold of the hem of my T and pulled it up over my head. The arms of the shirt were still on me with my shoulders tightly pulled up inside of it. The body of the shirt was now stretched across the front of my throat and under my chin. My chest, stomach and back were exposed as was the full roundness of my Hockey Player bubble butt.

Dad put his right arm underneath the front of my thighs and extended my legs out and away from his lap so that only the very tips of my work boots touched the floor.

I was in a very unstable position indeed. I then felt a very rough but warm caress of his right hand as it ran over the back of my thighs, then up and over the mounds of my exposed backside.

His left hand now reached and grabbed my right wrist as he pulled my arm into a reverse V shape over my back, away from the object that he was determined to have clear access to. My left arm was stretch forward so I could barely touch the floor with my fingertips, just enough to give myself some stability and not fall off sideways onto the plywood floor below. We were in this position for what seemed an eternity.

I could hear Dad breathing very quickly, then I could tell that he was purposefully slowing his inhaling and exhaling. All the while his right hand lay directly on the center of my upturned behind.

I craned my neck and looked over my should only to be met with a sharp twist of my right arm into yet an even more uncomfortable position. I lay motionless and gave in to his dominance.

The control level had gone completely from 50/50 to 95/05 with me being the lowly 05% of control and that was just my toe tips on one side of my exposed body and my fingertips stretched far out in front of my own face.

I looked down at the plywood below us and I fixated upon a row of penny nails that held the flooring to the joist below.

His hand raised from my buttocks and a sudden coolness of the air that surrounded what had previously been a gentle, almost sensuous touch was replaced with a deafening slap and searing red hot pain. Pain that shot down my legs to my toes and then back up to the very tips of my crew cut sandy blond hair.

My head snapped back and I was staring directly at a window on the side of the living room. A beautiful White Paper Birch outside the window received the bulk of my attention now. I attempted to bite down upon my own lower lip to steady myself for what I knew was just the beginning of a long and painful experience.

The coolness that came so quickly was once again replaced by an even sharper smack and more red hot pain. I actually saw small floaters of sparkling light in front of my eyes as I tried to focus on the Paper Birch.

Again and again and again the cadence quickened as the blows seemed to become ever severe.

I became acutely aware of my own private parts as they dangled between my Dad's heavy thighs. My penis was hard as a rock, and my balls were hanging in the most precarious position I could ever imagine them having been in.

The rough fabric of his work pants rubbed down the back side of the tender, lightly haired skin that loosely covered by balls. With each and every blow to my behind, my stiffened penis swung wildly back and forth, as if a clapper inside of a bell, banging one muscular leg and then swinging forcefully back and slapping hard against the other.

The onslaught continued and my backside started to become so desensitized that it was almost numb. If it were not for the loud smacking sound and my Dad's heaving grunts as he laid fully all of his weight and strength into each and every spank, I would have have almost been lulled into a state of a hypnotic trance.

I felt the start of tears welling up on the bottom of my eye lids. I fought desperately not to make a single sound or to allow the tears to breach my bottom lashes.

This was of my own doing and I was darned if I was going to make Dad feel badly for me. I was not going to let him think that I was anything less than the man he believed I had become, rough, tough and in control. This is why he was so disappointed in my for having gone through his things in his room at home. He was right, I do know right from wrong and I purposely chose wrong.

Then why the heck was I so darned hard? Why was this pain, I mean REAL PAIN in my ass and the top of my thighs causing such an aroused feeling down in the pit of my stomach.

My head was beginning to spin and I had that familiar feeling down there. That feeling I gave to myself when I was in private and rubbing one off after a long afternoon of Hockey practice. I had always given in to the urge to get myself off, just tossing one and figuring it was brought on by adrenaline and the shear closeness of other naked bodies.

It did not matter to me if they were male or female, just the closeness and what I saw as the glimpses of the forbidden fruit of someone else private parts. Areas of their bodies that would have otherwise been considered off limits to look at while in any other setting other than the locker rooms.

It was common place to snap a towel at a well shaped bubble butt or to make fun of the guy with a dong so long and the head on it, shaped like a huge ripe tomato. We would all dare him to try to wrap it around a door-nob and then give him and ourselves a high five when it turned out that he actually COULD wrap that darned thing around a door knob!

SPANK! I was brought back to the moment just in time. Then I no longer heard another sound, or any additional sharp burning pain. It was now a constant pain, a throbbing as if my heart had been transplanted into my backside.

It was raw and I was now allowed to turn my head and look at my swollen, dark red raised hairless mounds of muscle. What once was super white flesh and smooth cheeks not appeared angry and inflamed.

They were unfamiliar to me now, I did not even recognize my own butt, which I had checked out hundreds of times in the mirror. They were my pride and joy, "my finest asset," I would joke with my buddies and the girls that I would date and flirt with at school over the years.

Dad's voice brought me back to the reality of the situation. "Well, is that enough for now?" A completely different tone was in his voice now.

Dad sounded exhausted but that satisfied kind of exhaustion that I recognized as when he was proud of himself for having done something difficult and done it well.

My response came slowly as I was still trying to keep myself from a bit of emotional release. Then there was this sensation that ran through my entire body like electricity running through a toy. "Yeah, for now, that was great! Next time, maybe a bit more play. What do you think bout that Dad?"

Yep, I let that sensation take over my mouth. I was now a guy filled with not only emotions but I think my hard on had drained my head of all reasoning blood.

"Robbie, I'm with you on that one. Next time, maybe a little bit of my belt. Maybe not as long. I think that we can play a little with that too. I've got a little something for you too because we do have to get into that shower and wash off last nights stink on both of us."

Dad's hand released my twisted arm and went under my chest to help assist me standing up in front of him.

There it was, right at his eye level, rock hard and no way of getting around it. I was beyond excited. It was begging for more, more of something, anything but it was not ready for release yet. It still was doing things all on its own that I had absolutely no control over.

Dad reached forward and placed his hand on the base of my penis and low hanging balls. He wrapped his large and rough fingers around them and forcefully pulled a bit away from my body. He stood up and tugged somewhat more roughly than I had anticipated, as he led me into the kitchen.

Upon our walking to the bags on the counter, Dad reached into the tallest of them. He dug down and then pulled out a round container. Crisco... Shortening for baking? What the heck was he going to be doing with this stuff that Mom put into the bottom of the cupcake tins before she had us pour the batter into them.

Not a word of explanation, and with my privates still very firmly encircled by Dad's powerful paw, I was led into the partially completed hallway bathroom. It was far larger than the Master Bath and the black and white tile flooring had already been installed. A large garden tub and separate glass encased standing shower were located at the far end of the room.

A double sink and a long granite vanity counter with brushed nickel finished faucets stood opposite a gleaming white low tank toilet.

While still holding me in his grip, Dad sat himself down on the closed toilet seat.

"Turn around and put your hands on the counter top." Dad's command was one that I knew not to even question.

I was now facing a long beveled mirror that ran the entire length of the vanity. I could not see much of Dad other than his wide shoulders. I realized though that he was unbuttoning and removing his short sleeved plaid shirt.

I saw in the reflection that he tossed it off onto the edge of the tub and then pulled his sleeveless T over off and tossed that too on the other shirt.

I went to turn and see what he was doing at that moment, only to again hear a deafening spank and another searingly sharp pain to my butt.

I forced myself to stare into the mirror at my own face. I was a bit of a mess, puffy and red eyed.

Then I heard the top of the container being pulled back from the metal pop key on it's top. Then a cool, no a COLD and soothing sensation was being spread all over the surface of my burning behind. Dad was applying the Crisco to my backside as a cooling cream of sorts, well that is until I felt a large gob of the white paste being smoothed between the two swollen cheeks of my backside.

The continuous application of more and more of the creamy white coolness to my fully exposed backside caused my penis to stick straight forward and a bit of liquid to escape the dark reddish purple opening of my uncut 7" yet thick penis. The entire head stuck out of it's natural casing jacket as it began to leak like a bad faucet.

Dad's fingers, yes, I said it, three of them, fully greased up were forcefully rubbing up and down the entire length of my backside crack. They would slide up to the area of my lower back where the top of my haunch muscles cut to my narrow waist. Then just as forcefully he would slide them back down and between my thighs, rubbing the entire underside of my balls and then back up again.

A bit of extra pressure was added each and every time his three fingers passed over my butt hole. It was clenched tight but his middle finger would push just the tiniest bit of where his finger print was located just between the two super sensitive tiny lips.

I believed that the top of my head were going to shoot off and that my penis were going to literally explode!

"In the shower with you Robbie, we have a great deal of sheet rock to do today and I am hoping to get some of the taping started too.

With that, another sharp spank was applied to my greased up backside and Dad rose from his throne position to remove and step out of his work pants, kick off his shoes and completely disrobe.

He turned and walked into the shower stall, beckoning me to hurry and follow him. I know that there is just so much water at our disposal and to waste it would be criminal.

A broad and wicked smile crossed Dad's face as he turned the large handle and the water began to cascade over his head. Down his shoulders, over his chest and stomach only then to waterfall off the massive penis and low hung balls that stood out from between his legs. It looked as if they were a slightly shorter third leg surrounded by a massive forest of thick short black hair.

I stood up straight and walked into the shower along side my naked Dad. He handed me a bar of soap. He asked if me if I would wash his back for him. He said that his shoulders and hands were too sore from the heavy work out from this morning.