IRONBOUND ISLAND

Introduction

I live on an island with a community of several thousand people.  Fishing is the main 
industry.  There are the fishing boats, a fish processing plant, some Irish moss harvesting 
and a bit of farming.  

It is predominantly a male community.  Men are in charge, rule the roost as it were and the 
girls tend to leave when they grow up and live elsewhere.  Likewise many single guys will be 
attracted to the rugged, wilderness lifestyle and move in.  

I am one of several boys in the family.  We live with our Dad. Mother has moved away with 
the female children being unhappy with her life here.  So Dad raises his sons.  He goes 
fishing on a boat and often we boys are home alone.  

The schools are separated by gender, so we have only male classmates and male teachers.  
It is an unwritten law that all guys wear rubber boots.  A few will wear knee boots, but 95% 
wear hip waders or chest waders.  The general store on the island sells only rubber boots for 
male footwear.  They will not stock or sell anything else.  The men will of course come home 
from working on the boats or in the fish plant and leave their boots on in the house.  The 
wives  have learned they can do nothing about it and can only clean up the mess afterwards.   

Dads makes sure their sons are rubber booted very early in life and of course, that is all that 
can be bought on the island.  Shoes or sneakers brought or sent in from elsewhere will 
quickly disappear.  It would be shameful for a man to have his son go to school in sneakers.  
Boys start wearing hip rubber boots by the time they are 10 or so and by the time they get to 
the teen years almost all the boys have made the move into waders.  

Dads keep tight control of their sons and frequent beatings are the norm.  Many times my 
brothers and I line up, lean over the edge of the bed and feel the wrath of Dad's heavy leather 
belt on our ass.  In school the teachers are encouraged and expected to use the strap on 
their charges.  The philosophy is that boys need regular strappings to toughen them up and 
make them into men.  So for the mildest transgressions, we find ourselves getting strapped.  
All strappings are given publicly at the front of the class.  Quite a number of us who get the 
most strappings - everybody gets some - come to like it.  It is never discussed openly but it is 
seen as being perfectly OK.  More than one boy sports a boner every time he gets the strap.  
The teachers in fact go out of their way to strap these boys even longer and harder, so the 
strap is a daily experience for me - some days more than once. And a strapping would never 
be less than 20 strokes on each hand. I love getting the strap and find that it is very easy to 
get one.  They still hurt incredibly, but the more they hurt, the better I like it. I never want the 
strappings to stop.  I am 18, but am only in grade 9.  I have failed 4 times, not being in any 
hurry to get out of school.  Dad is quite content for me to stay in school but of course beats 
me frequently for all my failing marks. 

Many of the teachers do a bit of fishing on the side so they may spend an hour or two before 
school out on their boat checking nets or traps and then come directly to school with their hip 
rubber boots still on.  Those who don't fish soon discover that they have to wear waders (or 
at least knee boots) if they are going to fit in and be accepted.  Any who don't or won't make 
the switch soon leave.  We tend to attract guys as teachers who again are wild and rugged, 
usually very fond of laying on the strap, especially as it is well known what our discipline 
policy is.  The school board recruits men who want to use the strap to excess.  The 
community council and the dads all support this wholeheartedly and there is no move or 
desire to do away with corporal punishment even though that is happening elsewhere.  Many 
of the adults have gone through the school system and have themselves been hooked on the 
strap.  When school days are over, they find they still need it and so many ways are made 
available.  One of the fish plants has a discipline policy for its employees that includes 
regular severe sessions with the strap.  There are captains who strap and whip their 
crewmen. And legal misdemeanours are punishable by strap and whip.  Drunk and 
disorderly will yield 5 sessions of 100 strokes on each hand and 1 session of 25 lashes with 
a whip.  Surprising how many men continue to be charged with this.  Saturday mornings at 
the court house always has a line up of guys to get whipped and many spectators.  I have 
seen my dad get whipped any number of times.  He always takes it in stride - he is tough - I 
am proud of him.  Chained to the whipping post in his big black waders, I always watch in 
awe as that bullwhip cuts into his back and he doesn't cry out or flinch.  He is my hero.  He 
also works for one of the captains who regularly beats his men and  is quite content.  He 
could very easily get a job on another boat but he stays and continues to be strapped and 
flogged.  

Sex between men is common and casual.  Guys do it with their buddies, shipmates, 
schoolmates, etc.  Many evenings after work will start out in the kitchen with a beer and end 
up with guys in a tangle of hip rubber boots sucking and fucking each other with rugged 
abandon.  The squeak of rubber on rubber fills the house.  As boys we quickly learn from our 
dads and when we are old enough we start to experiment with our friends - usually after a 
particularly hard strapping or belting when the adrenaline is running and the blood is 
pumping. 

1. Meeting the Teacher

It is the last day of August and the sun is pounding down on my black rubber boots, making 
my feet feel like they are being steamed for dinner.  I am walking down the dusty road to 
home and as I look in at the schoolyard, I notice a new Jeep Cherokee parked by the side 
door.  "I wonder if this is the new teacher", I think to myself.  I look up at the second floor 
windows of the grade 9 classroom - at 18 it is my room again for the fourth time - and I can 
make out the figure of a man moving around inside.  I was curious about this guy; we usually 
attract such freaks and weirdos to teach here on Ironbound Island.  School doesn't start for 
two days yet but maybe I can sneak into the building and get a glimpse of him in advance.  I 
know that Dad will be home soon from a 5 day fishing trip and will be expecting his six sons 
to be there waiting for him, but, oh well, a couple of minutes isn't going to make any 
difference to the outcome of his homecoming; it is always the same. 

My rubber booted feet make no noise as I climb the wooden steps.  The side door is propped 
open, so I go in.  I can hear footsteps in the room upstairs - the sound carries in the quiet, 
empty school. I walk slowly up the stairs and stand at the top.  I can see through the 
classroom door and wait for the teacher to come into view.  A few seconds later he does just 
that and I gasp when I see him.  He is gorgeous!  I've known since I was 12 that I was 
attracted to men, but haven't had a lot of experience yet, other than jerking off at every 
available opportunity.  This couldn't be my teacher, surely!  He is tall, young, with long 
blondish hair.  He is wearing a tight T-shirt that shows off a very well put together body - 
muscled and hard.  His tight jeans cling to a strong, tight ass and a big bulging crotch.  As 
he walks his feet make quite a noise on the floorboards and I am surprised to see him 
wearing dark brown cowboy boots under his jeans.  I have only ever seen them on TV - never 
in person.  Everyone here wears rubber on their feet.  All of this registers in a few seconds 
and my prick starts to grow in response to the sight before me.  At this moment he turns and 
sees me standing there.  He smiles and clomps out with long manly strides.  "Hi", he says, 
putting out his hand.  His voice was deep and fine.  "I'm Mike Steeves, the new grade 9 
teacher.  Can I help you?"  Scrambling to get my wits together, I shake his hand and manage 
to blurt out who I am and to tell him I am one of his students.  "Come on in then, Don, I'm 
glad to meet you.  You've been in grade 9 before haven't you?", he asks. "Yes sir, this is my 
fourth year", I stammer.  "Yes, I've read your reports.  I'll have to see if I can motivate you to 
do better", he says. We chat a few minutes about school, about the island and how he has 
just arrived by the morning ferry.  He keeps eyeing my rubber boots while we talk and I am 
eyeing his cowboy boots.  "Say those rubber boots must be awfully hot on a day like today", 
he finally says.  "Oh yes sir, very hot", I answer.  "Why do you wear them, then?", he asks 
curiously. "It's all guys ever wear here, sir."  "Really!"  He seems impressed. "Do all the boys 
wear them to school then, Don?"  "Sure.  There's nothing else.  The store doesn't sell 
anything to put on your feet except rubber boots and waders.  We're all used to them sir.  As 
soon as it gets rainy we'll all be wearing hip rubber boots or chest waders. I hope you don't 
mind the smell of rubber."  "No, not at all", he responds.  "Good cause it can get mighty 
powerful in here with all these feet in hot rubber boots all day."  "I bet it does", he says with a 
grin.  I think he likes the idea.  "So, will I fit in wearing cowboy boots, do you think?", he 
asks, sticking his booted feet out for me to look at.  "No sir, you won't.  You'll need rubber 
boots for that.  Buy they sure look nice, sir".  "Thanks, Don".  He smiled again.  Geez - 
gorgeous and friendly!  "Ah sir, I've got to go now.  My Dad will be expecting me.  I'll see you 
on Wednesday, sir."  "I'll look forward to it Don.  Glad to know one student at least before 
class starts."  We shake hands again.  He has a powerful grip.  He squeezes my hand tightly 
and I squeeze back. As we stand face to face I realise that he is only slightly taller than my 6' 
but he is much more solid and muscular.  After an extra long hand shake, I turn and walk 
back out of the school, my cock hard and tenting out my jeans.  I wonder if Mike, I mean Mr. 
Steeves, noticed.  Shit, I'm really late now.  Dad's going to be extra mad, for sure.

2. First Day of School

The alarm clock shocks me awake.  I grope for it, shut the button off and sit up.  The sun is 
still shining on this Sept. 2 morning.  My brothers are stirring too, and one by one they swing 
their rubber booted feet out of bed and onto the floor.  We have a wash, put on clean shirts, 
bolt down some breakfast and head off to school.  Dad and his best buddy, Jake, are still 
asleep on the living room couch, hip booted legs wrapped around each other, pricks hanging 
out of their jeans, hard, as they dream of who knows what.  The signs of their sex are dried 
on them and it makes my happy to know that Dad has the same drives that I do, although 
we've never discussed it.  We leave as quietly as we can so as not to wake the sleeping 
friends.  They were at it until the small hours of the morning judging by the grunts and groans 
and squeaking rubber.

I meet up with Roger, my best friend and we walk the rest of the way to school together.  
Roger is also 18, but he is in grade 10.  "Ready for another year of torture?", he asks.  "Why 
not, Rog?", I reply. "As long as I'm in school Dad will support me", I answer.  "Hey, I met the 
new teacher on Monday.  He seems like a great guy."  "Maybe you'll actually learn 
something then", he jokes as we go in the door and off to our classes to start the new year.

Mr. Steeves is there greeting everyone and, I am sure, checking out the boots.  I am the 
oldest of the 33 boys in the class.  The youngest are 14.  Six guys are in hip rubber boots 
already.  Most of us wait until the first time it rains.  We usually wear knee boots in July and 
August. Mr. Steeves is still wearing his cowboy boots.  He has a tight white short sleeve 
dress shirt but no tie, open to reveal a very hairy chest.  The jeans have been replaced by 
equally tight black dress pants.  A sexier dude, I could not ask for.  Concentrating on work 
was going to be difficult!

The bell rings and we sit down and go through the usual first day shit.  Within minutes the 
room is filled with the smell of hot rubber from the 66 feet boiling inside their rubber prisons.  
Now matter how hot, though, a guy would never take his boots off in public.  He'd take his 
pants off, first!  I am sure that Mr. Steeves is breathing deeply and enjoying the pungent 
aroma.  He is also carefully checking out each boys boots.  He looks and me and grins ever 
so slightly.  I can see that his pants are bulged even more than they had been before.  "Now, 
I may be new here boys, but I'm not taking and foolishness", he starts the usual discipline 
speech.  "Any breaking of the rules or failure to get the work done will be dealt with severely. 
I'm in complete agreement with the disciplinary policy of this school and I'm not afraid to take 
action, as I'm sure you'll find out very soon", he lectures but still looking friendly.  "I'm not out 
to get you, but it's all for your own good - to turn you into responsible men of integrity.  I'm 
sure you all know just what I mean."  "We sure do", I think, as my cock starts growing again. 
"Been there, done that many many times and will do it again."

Mr. Steeves will teach Science, Math and Geography.  Old Mr. Harrison, the grade 10 
homeroom teacher will do English, French and History.  I've had Harrison before - not very 
effective, half drunk most of the time.  But he loves to discipline too.  But then, they all do, 
that's why they're here.  Mr. Harrison comes in for the afternoon, brown hip waders flapping - 
he wears them loose as he keeps a flask down his boots so it is rumoured.  Assignments 
and warnings are given and the first day ends uneventfully.

I chat again with Mr. Steeves after school.  He is very friendly to me and I'm sure his rod is 
growing as he stands closer to me than necessary.  He shifts his weight and his cowboy 
boot touches my rubber boot with a faint squeak.  I automatically move my boot in even 
closer so we are pressing our booted feet one against the other.  It is electric - I can feel his 
manhood coming through that touch and I immediately get rock hard.  Although I am 
embarrassed I can't move.  He sees my cock, looks at it directly, then puts his massive hand 
on my shoulder.  "Don, I hope we can be friends and not just teacher and student", he says.  
"I'd like that sir", I croak, hardly able to speak.  "I'll see you tomorrow then.  Make sure to get 
that homework done."  "So long, sir", I reply and practically stagger out the door.  I've never 
been teacher's pet before, but then I've never had a teacher who looked like this, either.  I 
walk home alone, stopping in a clump of trees to jerk my hard rod and imagine Mike's big 
hand doing the job for me.  I shoot massive blasts of cum and sink to the ground to catch my 
breath.  I hear the branches rustle as if someone is leaving but I can see no one.  However, 
when I go to look I am amazed to see a glob of white cum on the ground.  I wasn't the only 
one wanking my weiner here today.

3. The Strap

The next morning when I shut off the alarm I can hear the sounds of rain pouring down on 
the roof.  A very familiar sound on the Island.  I pull off my black rubber knee boots and stand 
them in the corner to dry.  I'll take this opportunity to change socks and wash my feet.  Man 
are they rank after several days and nights in those boots.  I slip into clean jeans and take 
my hip waders down from the hook on the wall where I hung them at the end of June.  They 
are shiny and black, still new looking since I'd only worn them for one month.  I sport a boner 
as I slide first one leg and then the other into those long supple shafts and pull the rubber 
close to my legs with all belts and straps fastened tight.  It feels good to be back in hip boots 
after the summer in knee boots.  The brothers are likewise pulling hip rubber boots on.  Dad 
and Jake were leaving this morning on the boat so they were already up and gone.  They 
were bunkmates on board as well as on shore.  In fact, they were inseparable.  We put our 
long black rubber raincoats and sou'westers on and head off to school. I get into the 
classroom first and Mr. Steeves is already there.  As I hang up my raincoat and hat, my hip 
boots are exposed and he stares openly.  "Great looking boots, Don", he says.  "Thanks, sir, 
they're pretty new."  "I'm going to have to get me some rubber boots, too."  "Why sir?", I ask. 
"Those cowboy boots look good to me", I reply thinking how much I'd like to try them on. 
"Maybe, but they don't keep my feet dry in this weather.  Besides, I do want to fit in."  As the 
others arrive, all but two are wearing hip rubber boots - black, brown, green, all pulled up full 
height, fastened tight, and no one even having a thought that they would or should come off.  
The other two boys are still wearing their knee boots. As the bell rings we sit down with 
much rubbery creaking and squeaking.  Mr. Steeves looks like the proverbial kid in the candy 
shop, with a candy stick down the front of his pants as he stares at our boots.  

First period was geography and quite uneventful.  I didn't much care about the Caribbean 
Islands but I couldn't be bored watching Mike move about.  He was so sexy, so macho, and 
proud of his body.  the way he wore his clothes so tight and the way he moved proved that.  
By the way, I was already calling him Mike in my mind.

Then came math period.  Books and notebooks out on our desks and Mike started going 
around checking our homework.  My notebook had much less than the required two pages of 
problems done.  He lays that big hand on my shoulder and simply says "stand up".  When 
he has finished his round, four of us are standing.  Back at his desk he says," I warned you I 
was a hard task master.  Now I'm going to show you.  The four boys who are standing are 
going to be strapped.  Come to the front and form a line boys." 

My first strapping of the year and my first from the new teacher!  I am, as always excited.  I 
wonder if its going to be as hard as I think it is.  If this guy puts full force behind it, he could 
give one incredible whacking! We would soon find out.  We line up to the left of his desk 
facing the class.  Jack (17) is first, I'm next, then Douglas (15) and Kirk (16).  Well 
experienced at this, all.   When we are in place, he opens his desk drawer and pulls out the 
rubber strap - that instrument of pain.  Black, 1 1/2 feet long, 2 1/2 inches wide and about 3/8 
of an inch thick.  I hadn't seen or felt that strap for 2 months now.  I was glad I about to get 
reacquainted.  As Mr. Steeves approached Jack I could tell he meant business.  His 
expression and body language left no doubt.  This was going to be one awesome strapping. 
"You all know the drill.  Jack, put out your hand."  Jack complied and extended his right 
hand, palm up.  He planted his brown hip rubber booted feet firmly apart in a macho stance.  
He looked good; he was a pro.  Mr. Steeves, being right handed grabbed Jack's wrist with 
his left hand and balanced the strap in his right hand gently resting it on Jack's upturned 
palm.  There was no movement or sound for at least 15 seconds as the tension rose. Then 
the strap flew up into the air.  I could see Jack's whole body tighten as he braced himself 
against showing any reaction.  His face was expressionless as he stared stoically straight 
ahead.  The strap reached its apex and then was brought down with such extreme force it 
almost whistled.  The impact was terrible and wonderful.  Such a smack!  Jack showed no 
sign of the pain we all knew he was in - he was a real trooper.  Mr. Steeves waited a few 
seconds before the second blow - he must have had experience with this - let each swat 
sting and throb before covering it with another.  Since I was not yet being strapped I didn't yet 
have to take the "I'm being strapped" expressionless stance.  I and the other two watched in 
fascination, excitement and a bit of horror, as did the rest of the class, as Jack received ten 
on each hand. Never had I seen such a hard strapping!  My prick responded and my heart 
was beating hard and fast as my turn drew closer.  I knew this was going to hurt very much.  
I wasn't afraid, actually I WAS excited.  It had been such a long time since the last day of 
school at the end of June when I last got strapped and the first strapping of the year always 
seems more intense.  I had long ago stopped being scared of the strap (age 9), but that 
didn't make it hurt any less.  

"Step back, Jack."  He did so and my sex god approached me.  "Put out your hand, Don", he 
said. I responded as Jack had and was impressed with how hard Mike gripped my wrist.  
Now it was my hand that had that deadly strap laying across it.  I could feel the pointed toe of 
Mike's left boot poking at the side of my right foot as he took his position.  Now I was the 
centre of attention and I knew I looked good, too.  I felt him tense and the strap went up in 
the air.  I was the stoic now - staring straight ahead into space, braced against the pain.  
SMACK! -- Holy fuck I wanted to scream and yell and jump around.  I felt like the skin was 
lifting off my hand.  Wave after wave of throbbing pain erupted from my palm. SMACK! -- a 
fresh assault brought more of the hot searing pain.  On the outside I was a statue, on the 
inside I was hollering wildly. SMACK! -- shit this hurts so much.  Man can this fucker hit!  
SMACK! -- My hand was shaking now and bright red.  Good thing Mr. Steeves was holding it 
so tight. SMACK! -- There was nothing in the world except that pain.  I knew my hand was 
OK but it felt twice its normal size and I wouldn't have been surprised to see it split wide 
open.  SMACK! -- Did this fucker put razor blades in it or what - this can't be a normal strap. 
SMACK! --Holy shit I'm doing it though.  I'm taking the best this muscle hunk can lay on.  
Geez it hurts like nothing I've had before, but I can fuckin' take it. SMACK! --Feels like a 
hundred strokes already.  I'll never use my hands again.  SMACK! -- Dear God, one more to 
go. I'm gonna make it though.  SMACK! -- That one was harder than the others if that was 
possible.  Mr. Steeves released my right hand and as I dropped it to my side it felt like it had 
been inflated with a pump.  And hurt, oh Fuck did it hurt.  As the right hand dropped the left 
hand was lifted.  Again the wrist was gripped and the strap laid gently on my upturned palm. 
Hard to believe that innocent looking strip of rubber could cause such agony.  Mr. Steeves 
paused to catch his breath.  His boot moved against mine again, squeaking loudly.  His 
armpits were stained with sweat and I could smell his manliness.  I was hurting desperately 
but very turned on and loving this man.  I was at the halfway mark now, bracing for the other 
hand.  The assault begins again.  The strap lifts and falls, Mr. Steeves" stamina and strength 
not faltering.  If anything he was getting his second wind.  SMACK! -- my left hand begins its 
odyssey of pain as it too exploded with that almighty sting. SMACK! -- A sting sharper and 
deeper than any had subjected me to before. SMACK! -- fuck, fuck, fuck I chant in my head 
as I grapple with this pain.  SMACK! -- I hurt so much it is taking over everything.  I just have 
to hang on.  SMACK! -- How can he hit that hard.  I know its just a strap, I saw it  sitting on 
my hand but fuck he's gonna take my hands right off. SMACK! -- Fuck can he ever use those 
muscles of his.  This is almost more pain than a guy can handle. SMACK!  But I do handle it. 
I can't crack.  I never have - I never will. Jack took it - I have to. SMACK!  Mr. Steeves wants 
to be my friend.  I have to make myself worthy.  I'm the oldest guy in the class.  I have to take 
it.  SMACK! -- fuck, fuck, fuck, it hurts so much. SMACK! -- the last one.  Pain.  Relief. I did 
it. Remain stoic. Stand back. Watch the others.


4. After the Strap

As I stepped back I once again became aware of Jack.  He gave me a bit of a grin and a 
wink as I stood shoulder to shoulder, boot to boot with him.  He had had a bit of time to 
recover.  I took a few deep breaths and tried to relax my muscles that I had held so tight.  My 
hands were at my sides, battered and bruised and swollen and feeling great.  I looked down 
to see that I was hard as a post.  All in all a very intense and not at all unwelcome 
experience. I had taken it. I felt proud.  I knew I'd be taking it again, many times and that 
made me want to jerk off.  By this time Mr. Steeves had stepped in front of me to strap 
Douglas. I relish Mike's closeness.  As he swings the strap down I watch those powerful 
muscles move.  No wonder it hurt so much.  As he keeps strapping, Doug gets a bit shaky 
but he held out.  Like I said we were all very experienced, although Mike topped all as a 
strapper.  Finally, Doug was done and stepped back.  He looked pretty pale.  Then Mike 
stepped down the line and gave it to Kirk.  Poor Kirk had to watch all 3 of us get it before it 
was his turn.  Talk about tension. Liking to get strapped as I do, I find it heightens the 
excitement to wait and watch it get closer.  I have often been at the end of the line.  But for 
any guy who didn't like it, I imagine it could be a bugger.  We boys often talked about our 
strappings at length, but none of us would ever admit liking it or getting turned on by it.  It 
was always the "fuck it hurt, but I can take it" kind of bragging, followed by a blow by blow 
analysis.  When Kirk was strapped - he held out fine too - we were sent back to our seats.  

We could do no work that period because our hands were too sore and swollen.  I sat 
looking at my red throbbing hands, rubbing them on the smooth rubber covering my legs and 
watching Mike as he moved and talked, now very sweaty and half hard.  Now that he had 
strapped me, I admired him even more.  I had fucked up and he had been man enough to 
take me to task.  If he hadn't I would have lost respect.  As it was I knew that I was going to 
get many strappings from this man.

Finally the recess bell.  As it was raining we didn't go out.  I clomped to the washroom, being 
horny as hell.  I went into a cubicle and pulled out my rod.  I put my hot throbbing hands on it 
and began to jerk.  Before long I saw my white sticky juice land on the floor by the door.  God 
it felt so good.  Before I finished shooting I saw another stream of cum land beside mine.  As 
I stood and watched, I heard a zipper being closed and the sound of boots on the floor as 
someone left the washroom.  Hard leather boots, not the soft rubber that all of us wear - 
cowboy boots! I zipped myself up and left our puddles of cum to co-mingle on the floor.  
Maybe some other dude would find it and get turned on.  I went back to class and resumed 
working, relaxed and feeling fine, able now just barely, to hold a pencil.  Mr. Steeves was 
relaxed too as he taught us science and his bulge was back to its usual size.  By lunchtime 
my hands were feeling like they belonged to me again and we all compared experiences and 
bragged ourselves up.  Our hip rubber boots were wet and sweaty by now and I was very 
glad to be in them again and especially glad to know that Mike liked them.  I touched them 
often, loving the feel and smell of the hot black rubber that encased my legs and feet.  I love 
the feeling of sore hands sliding over the rubber.  Hell I liked the feeling of sore hands...

In the afternoon Mr. Harrison came back and we did his subjects.  He strapped three other 
guys  but I was spared this time.  I'd felt his strap before, of course, many times in the past.  
He could hit pretty hard, too, but not as hard as Mike.  During the afternoon I could hear the 
strap smacking next door in the grade 10 class and knew Mike was laying rubber onto some 
of their palms as well.  I vividly remembered my experience from a few hours ago and got 
very hard again.  By my count five guys got it and I wondered who they were.  They would of 
course, all be honour bound to "take it like men".  When school let out, we put on our black 
rubber rain gear and left.  No opportunity today to stay and talk to Mike.  But I was so horny 
and charged up I had to do something.

5. The Cousin

I decided to stop by Uncle Bill's place and visit my cousin Reg.  Reg and his Dad lived 
together not far from my place.  Reg was 22 and I was very fond of him.  He was sitting on 
the front porch when I arrived, bright green hip boots propped up on the railing, rubber 
raincoat open showing his very healthy basket.  I spend lots of time staring at that basket.  
"Hey Reg", I call as soon as I am close enough.  "Hey yourself, Don", he replies. "You 
startled me.  I didn't hear anyone coming with all that rain pouring down."  His mouth grins 
widely as his vacant eyes roam aimlessly.  He stands up and puts his arms out.  "Give your 
cuz a hug", he booms.  Always glad to oblige I get wrapped in a rubbery bear hug.  Reg is 
big and loud.  Born without optic nerves, he has never seen anything and never will.  6'4" tall, 
hairy and sturdily built, he is my hero.  He has never let being blind slow him down.  He has 
often told me that being blind is fine with him, he is content and wouldn't want to see even if 
he could.  "What for", he'd say. "I'm a blind fucker.  Sight would just get in my way".  He had 
to leave the island to go to school but as soon as he was 16 he quit and came back to live 
with his Dad.  He helps out on the wharf unloading fish and does a lot of the household 
chores.  His regret is that he couldn't go to school here.  

He loves to hear all about my school experiences so I thought I'd tell him about Mike and my 
first strapping of the year.  Before I could say anything he asked, "How’s school going?  How 
many strappings have you had so far?"  He know I am a strap hound.  He's the only one I 
ever told.  I fill him in on all the details.  I could share with him.  Maybe it was because he 
couldn't look at me.  I sat beside him on the bench and we put out rubber covered arms 
around each others shoulders as we talked.  Reg put his booted feet back up on the rail and 
I put my legs and feet on his.  We squeak our boots together as we talk.  He examines my 
hands with his when I tell him about my strapping and he is really excited too. "I should have 
got strappings like that", he says.  "They never beat us at the blind school."  Uncle Bill 
regularly takes his belt to Reg, but it isn't the same.  

He suggests we get a beer so I follow him into the kitchen, rubber creaking and flapping.  He 
feels around and gets the beer and the bottle opener then we sit in the living room, sharing a 
love seat, that pushes us close together.  I love feeling his big male body against mine, 
separated by our layers of rubber. Reg practically lives in rubber - raincoats, overalls and 
always hip boots.  I always leave my rubber on when I visit him. "Gee Don, you're really 
getting to be a man now", he says as he feels my body, even my cock and balls which are 
responding nicely to his hand and all that rubber. "I hadn't really noticed before."  "Maybe you 
just weren't looking", I joke and he laughs deeply.  He get a real kick out of blind jokes for 
some reason. "You're probably right", he says, "But I'd so much rather check your bod out 
with my hands than with my eyes. It's so much more personal. It's an advantage to being 
blind that I love. I always get to touch and feel people - guy people. I wouldn't trade that for 
anything."  "Not even for sight, Reg?" I ask.  "Definitely not.  I'm happy as a clam in my dark 
world.  I can't understand why anyone who was blind like me would give seeing a thought.  If 
you aren't born with it, it's not going to do you any good.  Did I ever tall you about Mr. 
Peterson?"  "No", I said.  "Well he taught me science in junior high.  He had gone blind at 
age 2 and when he was 20, an operation was able to restore sight in one eye.  He was 
scheduled to get the other one done the following year.  He was really disappointed.  It didn't 
help him, just screwed him up.  He had to close his eyes to figure out where he was.  Not 
only did he not get the other eye done, he persuaded the doc to undo the first one.  He 
plunged back into his eternal darkness and was very glad to be there.  So, even if I could 
have something done, why go through that.  I'm glad I'm hopeless", he chuckles, "that way 
there's no wishing or hoping."  All the time he was talking, he continued to move those big 
hands of his all over me.  "Shit", he says, "I could really get in to this.  I must remember 
you're my cousin."  "What difference does that make", I reply.  "I like being with you Reg.  
Next time I come for a sleepover..." I left the sentence unfinished.  

"Let's go for a walk", he suggests, changing the subject.  We get up with our hard cocks 
straining against our jeans and head out into the rain.  Our wet rubber is slippery as I take his 
arm to guide him and we walk along the shore chatting. He lifts his feet high to avoid rocks, 
etc. and I love watching him move through his blindness.  When the time comes for me to 
leave he says he can find his own way back.  I stand and watch as he gropes along - hands 
out in front of him. I jerk my pole watching my blind rubber covered cousin make his way 
back home.  I shoot my gobs on the beach.  As he reaches the corner of the house he turns 
and waves.  How did he know I'd stay and watch?


6. The Family

The next morning when I woke, I was surprised to see that it was already 10 to 9.  We were 
going to be late for school and there was only one possible consequence for being late - the 
strap.  For some reason the alarm didn't go off.  I hollered to the others and their hip rubber 
booted feet flew as they hit the floor running.  At least we didn't have to waste time putting 
our boots on.  We'd been wearing them for 24 hours.  We slept in "the boys" room.  Three 
double beds - two boys in each.  There had been a "girls" room too, but Mum left when the 
third girl was born, taking her daughters with her.  The girls room remains empty.  It had 
been a household of men for 10 years now.  I slept with Nick who was 21.  He was also my 
hero, my teacher and my favourite brother.  When he started school he told me all about his 
strappings and taught me how to take the strap - how to stand, where to look, that I must 
never, ever cry or flinch.  During those first few years when I hated getting strapped, I would 
always think of Nick and how he took his strappings and how impressed and proud he would 
be when I told him about mine.  That helped me to stand up under frequent strappings until I 
was 9.  That was when my attitude toward the strap changed.  It surprised and delighted me.  
It was something that happened so often; I might as well enjoy it.  About a week before I 
started grade 4 I began to think about the strap (not unusual), but this year it was with 
excitement, not dread.  Wondering how soon I would get it, how hard Mr. Pendrill would hit, 
how many on each hand, etc.  By the time school started I could hardly wait to be strapped.  
Within a half hour I was called up to be the first boy in the grade 4 class that year to get 
strapped.  A place I have taken most years since.  I felt so good walking up the aisle, putting 
out my hand, having all the guys watch me.  I tingled when Mr. Pendrill pulled his strap out of 
his drawer and what totally amazed me was that I loved the feeling of getting strapped.  It 
hurt as much as ever - he gave me 5 good whacks on each hand - but I really enjoyed it.  I 
figured it was just a fluke so I got in trouble again two days later just to see.  Six on each 
hand this time and it was glorious.  Pain and pleasure were now mixed up together for me.

It was Nick, too, who taught me about sex.  We watched his dick grow into a man's and then 
a few years later mine did the same.  He taught me how to jerk off and often we would wake 
with the results of each others wet dreams in our common bed.  Unfortunately (for me) Nick 
started dating a girl a year ago and was to be married at Christmas.  My bed would be very 
empty when he left.  He had started working at MacGregor's fish plant as soon as school 
closed in June and he was more than willing to offer his hands to the foreman's strap.  All 
the guys on the processing line got plenty of whacks from Dave the foreman.  Nick was so 
excited when he came home that first day and told me about his strappings - five 20 strokers 
on each in one day - I knew he was happy.  

In the middle bed slept Warren 16 and Matt 15 in grades 7 and 8 respectively.  Both good 
kids - I liked them but didn't have too much to do with them.  Like the rest of us they had 
learned to be men on Ironbound Island.  Matt would more often than not be the one to leave 
a wet spot on the sheets when we leaned over the bed side by side to get belted. He was a 
total pain dog and was always in trouble - I mean always.  In the other bed were Tim 13 and 
Philip 11.  Philip as the baby was my second favourite brother.  They were both pretty tough 
little characters too.

Matt rather delightedly called out, "Hey bros, we're all gonna get strapped for this you know."  
"No shit", replied Tim, "so what's new?"  "You think you're gonna get it", said Nick with a 
grin, “You haven't seen what Dave does to guys who are late!  I won't be doing anything with 
these hands tonight, boys, they'll be too swollen and sore."  This was all good-natured banter 
and we grabbed rain coats and charged out the door.

The other family member, Dad, was 43.  He worked on board a fishing boat that would be 
out for 5 or 6 days at a time.  Although he had been married for 12 years and fathered 9 
children, he was gay, openly gay, being with Jake, 39, 24 hours a day, screwing on the living 
room couch or in their cabin on the boat.  He loved us and was proud of us, especially as we 
were all turning into tough island men as he thought we should.  He could be affectionate 
toward us but also showed no mercy.  We regularly suffered his heavy leather belt across 
our bare asses.

Sure enough, by the time we got to school it was 9:25.  The door was locked, se we had to 
knock.  The principal, Mr. Sanders let us in with a scowl.  "You boys are in big trouble.  Line 
up along that wall."  He had brought his strap with him so justice would be swift.  So there 
we stood, the five Clancy brothers - hip rubber boots and wet rubber raincoats on getting 
strapped in the lobby.  "Youngest first", Mr. Sanders called so Philip went forward.  He got 10 
of the best on each as did Tim.  Both endured in silence.  Matt went then and I'm sure he 
had a massive boner under that rubber slicker.  He really loved this sort of thing.  He and 
Warren each got 12 on each hand "because, being older, they should have taken more 
responsibility." And then it was my turn.  As I said, I enjoy being last and I wasn't 
disappointed.  I got 15 on each because of my age and he laid them on good.  They stung 
like fuck too, and even though it wasn't as hard as Mike's strapping yesterday, my hands will 
still sore and this new smacking was also very hard to take.  He applied it in sets of 5, going 
back and forth from one hand to the other.  He too, lifted his weapon high in the air and 
brought it down with fury.  the SMACKS echoed up and down the hall and I saw several boys 
peek out of their classrooms to see who was getting it.  I was proud it was the Clancy boys 
and I relished each agonising swat knowing how we were being watched.  I, too, was 
aroused and my hands weren't the only things that were throbbing. We were sent off to class 
and Mr. Sanders clomped back into his office in his black hip boots waiting for the next 
victim to need the strap. 

7. Back in the Classroom

As soon as I came through the classroom door, Mike (That is Mr. Steeves) was at me. 
"Stand right there. Where were you? What's going on here?", he shouted. I wondered if he'd 
do this for everyone or if he'd really missed me.  I explained that we'd overslept and the 
whole family was late.  "What is the penalty for being late, Don?", he asked, suddenly quiet.  
"The strap, sir", I replied.  "Exactly", he responded walking over to his desk. "Sir?" "What is it, 
Don?", he smiled pulling his strap out of his drawer.  "Mr. Sanders just strapped all of us sir, 
he met us at the door." "Did he then."  He seemed disappointed.  He thought for a second.  
"How many did he give you?"  "15 on each hand, sir."  "Sounds fair, Don, but I think I'm going 
to strap you anyway.  His strapping was for being late for school, this is for missing more 
than half an hour of my class.  Come over here and put out your hand."  I wanted to protest.  
Two strappings in a row for the same offence was a bit much.  But I couldn't argue or appear 
to refuse a strapping. That wouldn't be macho.  There was nothing for it but to take it again.  
My hands were still throbbing; this was going to be a bitch.  But perverse as I am, my cock 
had never been harder.  I was still wearing my rubber coat, fastened up tight.  It was dry on 
the outside now, but fuck was I sweating in that rubber casing.  He wasn't going to give me 
time to remove it, though.  As Mike grabbed my wrist he grabbed the rubber sleeve of my 
coat, too and held it tight around my wrist. He again planted his cowboy boot against my 
rubber boot and laid that strap across my hand.  We waited.  It was so hard to stand still.  I 
was so hot, agitated because I knew what was coming any second and - so horny!  

Finally he started - up and down went that strap landing with that SMACK! and that serious 
pain. SMACK! SMACK! Slow, steady strokes, hitting me for all he was worth but I had 
crossed the threshold.  SMCAK! SMACK! This was pure heaven.  Pain so intense- hot 
stinging throbbing pain - pain that felt better than anything I had ever felt. "Give me your other 
hand, Don." We changed hands. SMACK! SMACK! Geez, this was beautiful.  I had a hard 
time remaining stoic because I wanted to grin. SMACK! SMACK!  The first strapping got me 
warmed up and this was going to take me over the edge.  I could feel the sex pounding in my 
prick as my body processed this beloved pain. SMACK! Don't stop, Mike, please don't stop 
I'm thinking.  He nods at my right hand and I put it out again.  He starts another set of 5 and 
each time he starts on a new hand its like I climb to a new level of pain.  SMACK! SMACK! 
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! I'm almost floating now - I am pain - pain and sex. "Other hand" 
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! God I lust after the man who is doing this to 
me.  Hit me harder, Mike, hurt me more.  "Other hand". Yes sir, for sure. Right hand out 
again. SMACK! SMACK! I'm soon going to cum. SMACK! I no longer know if I am stoic, I 
can only hope all the years of practice can carry me on automatic pilot.  SMACK! SMACK! 
"Other hand". How long has this been going on?  Time has become meaningless.  My left 
hand goes out - SMACK! SMACK! My cum starts spurting into my jeans. SMACK! It keeps 
pumping hard. SMACK! Fuck I have never dreamed this could be possible. SMACK! "That 
will do, Don. Take your seat."  Somehow I walk to my seat, cock still pumping.  Not only was 
that the most fantastic strapping experience I had ever had, it was also the strongest orgasm 
ever.  As I sit down I'm thankful he didn't let me take the coat off.  I'm sure my jeans are 
soaked with spunk.  It gives me an excuse for being red in the face too.  I sit quietly for the 
rest of the morning unable to do anything with these hands.  The rubber coat stays on.  
When day is done I leave quickly.  There is nothing I can say to Mike right now. 

8. Mike's boots

After supper, still high from my morning's experience I decided to visit the tavern for a beer.  
My new adult status at 18 made this possible.  Dad wouldn't be back until Sunday evening 
and there was nothing to keep me home.  The rain had let up but I was still dressed in 
rubber.  I wore my rain coat open and there was a definite crusty patch on my jeans.  I went 
in the door and let my eyes adjust to the dimness.  I scanned the faces of the rubber clad 
men, looking for someone I knew.  (Only men were allowed in the tavern). The room smelled 
of beer, sweat, smoke and rubber.  I loved the smell.  Being Friday night, it was crowded and 
noisy.  Then in the corner I saw him.  The only man on Ironbound who wasn't wearing rubber 
boots.  I worked my way through the crowd brushing against raincoats, oilskins, rubber 
booted feet, greeting guys as I went.  Mike was watching me approach.  He had on a black 
rubber raincoat, hanging open like mine.  On his feet he was still wearing those cowboy 
boots.  He was at a small table by himself.  "Hello sir", I speak first. "Hi Don", he answers.  
"Mind if I join you?", I ask.  "Not at all, but I'm surprised you want to", he responds.  "Why 
would you say that, Sir?", I ask as I pull my chair close to his.  In this noise it was necessary 
to sit close if you wanted to talk.  "Well, after the way I laid on the strap the last couple of 
days, I figured I'd be in your bad books", he said.  "Oh sit no, sir, it would take more than the 
strap to do that.  I've had tons of strappings every year and I’m sure I’m gonna get tons this 
year.  You're the teacher, sir, you're supposed to strap me - and I'm supposed to take it."  " 
All right", Mike grinned, "You've got a good attitude, Don - I admire a guy who can take 
what's coming to him so matter of factly".  "Well, I don't hold grudges, Sir.  But I have to tell 
you, you give some wicked strapping!  I've never been hit that hard before."  "Good", Mike 
grinned again, "that's what I was aiming for"  "That and my hands", I reply.  "You took it very 
well, Don.  I know how much it hurts.  I had my share of strappings as a boy, too."  "Thanks, 
Sir, I always take my strapping like that and I always will."  "I'm counting on it.  I would be 
very disappointed if you didn't, Don."  As we talked we leaned in closer and closer.  Our 
rubber covered shoulders and arms were touching.  His denim covered leg pressed against 
my rubber covered one. "I kind of had the feeling that you were really into getting the strap, 
Don.  That's OK by me, you know", he said. "Well", I stammered, "I'm proud of the way I take 
so many strappings". "Well", he returned, "I'm gonna give you many many more you can be 
sure."  He crossed his left leg over his right, resting his cowboy boot on his right leg, sole 
towards my left leg.  He put his hand on my hot rubber booted leg. "Man, these are great 
looking boots, Don", he said changing the subject.  "They're so hot. How long have you had 
them on?" "Since yesterday morning, Sir."  "Fuck! I like that.  And Don, while we're not in 
school why not drop the sir stuff.  Call me Mike."  "OK, Mike", I answer.  

"I'm going shopping for rubber boots tomorrow, Don. Would you come with me to help me 
select?"  "Sure, I'd love to", I say. "Do they have any like yours - black & shiny with red trim?  
That's what I really want."  "You bet they do.  They have a whole big room full of boots and 
waders.  Its fun to go shopping in there.  Almost any colour or brand you want.  And you may 
even see Crazy Ned while we're there." "Now who", Mike asks with a smile, "is crazy Ned?" 
"He's a little daft in the head, but he loves rubber.  He wanders around the rubber room and 
humps the boots." Really?", Mike asks incredulously.  "Oh yeah, very open about it.  Squirts 
all over the boots and then walks away.  Bob, who owns the store doesn't clean it up, either. 
They're rubber boots, he says - if you want 'em clean, hose 'em down.  Some guys 
deliberately look for Ned's juice on new boots, when they buy them"  "Now that's strange", 
Mike says, "strange but cool.  Rubber perv heaven, eh?"  Mike's boot moves over onto my 
lap.  I can't help running my hand over the tooled leather.  "These cowboy boots are so neat", 
I say.  "I'd love to try them on sometime."  Mike answers, "what size boot do you wear, Don?"  
"12s sir, I mean Mike." "Same size as mine!  I'd be glad to let you try them on, but let me ask 
you a question, Have you ever worn any before"  "Mike, I have never had anything on my feet 
but rubber boots."  "Never?", he asks.  "Never", I reply.  "Wow - that is so neat - I love that! In 
that case I'm going to be a bastard and say no.  I don't want to be responsible for breaking 
that record.  I don't think you should ever wear anything else, Don."  I was disappointed but 
he was the teacher and besides, all this boot talk was making us both horny.  Dicks were 
sticking up straight.  "But you can do anything else you want to them and with them", he 
says.  "I'm ready to go home - do you want to walk with me?  I'm a bit unsteady from all 
these beers.  

We walk up the hill to his cottage, side by side. We put our arms around each other, 
supposedly to steady him, but I knew it was more than that.  "Come on in. I'll make coffee," 
he says.  We drink coffee and chat.  "Can you stay over, Don", he asks.  "Then we can go to 
the general store first thing in the morning.  "Yeah, why not", I reply.  We are sitting on the 
couch.  Suddenly he leans back against the arm of the couch and swings his booted feet up 
into my lap.  "Have a go at them Don", he says, "Do whatever you like.  The only thing you 
can't do is wear them"  With delight I rub my still sore hands over the warm tooled leather.  I 
lift one of his feet up so I can sniff it - feet and leather all mixed together.  I tug at the legs of 
his jeans, sliding them up so I can expose more of the shaft.  The jeans are tight and  don't 
want to move.  He jumps up. "Back in a minute, Don. Hold those thoughts."  He goes into the 
bathroom.  In a moment he comes out again minus shirt and jeans.  "This will be better", he 
says.  Wearing only cowboy boots and red silk bikini briefs, tented out by an only slightly 
concealed thick, hard cock, he flops back down and puts his boots back in my lap.  "Have at 
them boy.  Let it free so you can really enjoy yourself".  He didn't have to say it twice.  I undid 
my belt and lowered my zipper being careful not to let my waders slip down any.  My hard 
dick sprang out.  (I don't wear underwear) - and he immediately started rubbing his boots 
against it, moving the foreskin back and forth over the head. "Hey Don, are your hands still 
hurting?", he asks. "Yeah, still sore as hell", I say with trembling voice.  His massage feels 
so good.  "Fuckin' good man, I'm glad", he says, lowering his briefs so his dick head pokes 
out.  He strokes it slowly.  I have always been proud of my meat, but Mike certainly outdid 
me.  I kept feeling his boots, slid my hand down inside and felt his sweat.  Sniffed the scents 
of this beautiful man and before long with a gasp I shot wad after wad of joy juice all over me 
and Mike's boots. "Excellent dude", he says.  "I bet that makes up for the strapping."  "Mike", 
I say when I can talk coherently, "it isn't necessary to make up for the strapping.  It was OK."  
"But this feels better, though, right?", he says.  "What do you want me to say , Mike?  I 
fuckin' did this while you strapped me this morning, too", I reply somewhat sheepishly.  
"Fuck", he says.  "I thought so.  Especially when I saw your jeans tonight.  Buddy, you have 
no idea what strappings you are in for this year."  He stands, pulls off his briefs, sits facing 
me on my rubber feet and jerks until he shoots his load all over my wadered legs.  "Oh man 
that was fuckin' good", he gasps as he collapses on the floor, arm across my hot rubber 
booted feet.  I lean my head back and sleep, hip boots marked with my master's sex.

9. Mike's New Boots

I woke up in the morning with a powerful need to piss. Mike was already up.  As I 
approached the washroom I heard the shower running.  Too bad, I had to piss anyway so I 
went in.  Mike stuck his head out from behind the curtain. "Hi", he said. "Sorry for barging in, 
Mike, but I have to piss", I say.  "No problem, but don't use the toilet for that"  "Why not, I 
really have to go."  "Piss in here, Don, I did." He stops the water and opens the curtain.  
There he stands in his cowboy boots. "Do you always shower like this", I ask.  "No, but this is 
the last hurrah for these boots.  I pissed on them, then showered.  Now I want you to piss on 
them too."  By this time I didn't care where I pissed.  "OK, man, whatever."  I whipped it out 
and let loose spraying his boots and up his legs.  His prick got red and hard again.  He loved 
it!  "Thanks man", he said when I finally stopped.  "Want to join me for a shower?"  "Not this 
morning, Mike, I'd have to take the boots off.  I don't want to fill these fuckers with water - I'd 
never be able to move."  "Gotcha!"  He showers again and we get breakfast.  He in nothing 
but squishy cowboy boots. My hip waders are still obviously splattered with dried cum and I 
intend to proudly keep them like that.

Mike got dressed and we hopped into his jeep to drive to the general store.  The rain had 
stopped so the raincoats were left off.  When we got to the store we looked around the main 
room first.  I could tell Mike was savouring this and wanted to drag it out.  I was enjoying his 
company and the looks as guys saw the spunk on my boots.  After a few minutes I led the 
way to the rubber boom.  We stooped to get through the low doorway and then down 3 
rickety steps.  The rubber room was really several rooms - sort of like a rubberised maze.  In 
the first was the clothing - jackets, coats, overalls, various rain hoods, sou'westers, etc.  
Great piles of black, green, orange and yellow rubber in all sizes.  Mike has a wonderful time 
digging through them, holding various items up to see if they'd fit.  "I'm definitely coming 
back here for a new wardrobe", he says with a grin, "but for now, let's move on".  The next 
room had shelves of boots - 12" 14" 16" high in many colours and sizes.  We both felt them 
with our hands as we walked past.  A few had stains on them like the ones that adorned my 
hip boots.  Mike looked at me, "Crazy Ned?", he asked.  I nodded with a grin.  

The third room was our destination.  Hip rubber boots hanging from racks.  There was no 
organisation so we had to search for the black with red trim in size 12. We saw many signs 
of Ned's activity.  Mike was highly amused, and highly aroused being surrounded by all this 
rubber. "You know, I think I could become crazy Mike", he said, "But I'd really rather have 
some legs and feet in the boots when I hump them".  "Me too, Mike, me too", I reply.  Finally 
we find a pair that suits and we go back to the counter to pay.  He also picks up some wool 
socks.  When we get back to the Jeep he pulls off his cowboy boots and damp socks, puts 
on the new wool socks and slides into the waders.  He looks like he's going to cum in his 
pants.  He fastens them tight.  "How do they look , Don?", he asks.  "Fabulous, Mike.  You're 
one of us now."  "Fuckin' great man", he says.  He picks up the cowboy boots and socks and 
says "say bye bye."  He takes them to the trash container and drops them in with a clunk.  I 
watch him as he goes, the shiny new black rubber moving around his legs as he walks.  He 
looks like he was born wearing hip rubber boots.  I feel like I may cum in my pants, too. Fuck 
is he handsome!  "It's rubber boots all the way from now on.  Shit I love the feel of these 
things when I walk in them. Let's go home."  "Sure thing, Mike.  You do look awesome in 
those boots."  "Thanks, buddy."  

We get back in the jeep and drive back to Mike's.  He's grinning and rubbing his hand over 
his booted leg.  "Damn these are fine", he says, "fuck I love 'em."  Back at Mike's we are 
again on the couch.  Our hip rubber booted feet are propped up on the coffee table, 
intertwined.  Every movement brings a squeak of rubber. It doesn't take long until hot hard 
dicks are pulled out of our jeans.  "Fuck Don, I'd love to have that mouth of yours around my 
meat", he says.  "I've never done that Mike, but right now I'd love to try."  I get down on the 
floor and crawl between his legs which are still resting on the table.  I put my arms around 
his rubber booted legs and bend my head to his crotch.  His beautiful big cock smells so 
inviting and as I slowly put my mouth around it, the taste and texture in my mouth are 
delightful.  I work his foreskin with my tongue and as he directs me, I learn a new skill from 
my teacher.  As my mouth fills with his hot salty cum I am proud to have become a 
cocksucker.  Mike is happy to return the favour and soon my hands are wrapped in his long 
thick hair as his head is buried in my crotch.  He is a master at this and I cum very quickly.  
He swallows it and without stopping, keeps me hard and brings me to a second orgasm.  
Arms around each other, booted feet side by side we sit exhausted and enjoy just being 
rubber fuckers together.  

10. Dad

When Mike and I finally finished I told him I had to go.  "Mike, that was fantastic.  I hope we 
can do this again."  "Don", he said, " I think you're going to need lots of extra help this year.  
You'll have to come over often." "Thanks, sir, I'd love your extra help.  I'll see you on Monday 
sir."  I walked home feeling totally satisfied and grown up.  I'd finally fulfilled by fantasies with 
the hottest man I had ever seen.  Although my sweat filled waders were heavy, I felt like I 
was floating home.  I carried Mike's dried cum on my boots in several splotches and I wore 
them like a badge.  

When I got home, Dad was there.  He wasn't supposed to be back till tomorrow but his and 
Jake's bags and rubber coats were in the kitchen and the steady whap of the belt could be 
heard from the upstairs bedroom.  I knew I had better get up there fast and I knew I was 
really in for it.  entering Dad's bedroom I saw my five brothers stretched out across the bed.  
Their hip booted feet on the floor on one side, jeans and underwear pulled down enough to 
have asses, cocks and balls exposed, but not enough to require pulling the boots off - they 
sagged only a bit from their full height.  Shirts off, their hands were tied together to the frame 
of the other side of the bed.  Their asses and backs were red - he'd been at it for awhile, 
landing whacks first on one, then on another, somehow keeping track and making sure that 
each got the same number of licks.  Of course no sound was heard from the boys.  As in 
school, we took it in silence at home too.  Jake was standing at the foot of the bed watching 
as he always did.  Dad was swinging his heavy leather belt; both of them were shirtless as 
well and both of them obviously horny.  Dad's black hip rubber boots creaked as he moved in 
rhythm with the rising and falling of the belt.  I could feel it already as I started peeling off my 
shirt.  Dad and Jake both had heavily marked backs from their frequent sessions at the mast 
and at the municipal whipping post.  There were some very red stripes criss-crossing the 
mass of scars which indicated a very recent beating.  The captain used a 9 tailed whip - the 
cat - on them while the municipal officers used a 1 tailed horsewhip.  I was proud of my Dad.  
I always watched him get whipped at the court house when he got charged with 
misdemeanours; it happened on a regular basis.  Wearing nothing but his big black waders 
he'd be chained tightly to the post and many hard strokes with that long heavy whip would 
land across his back, shoulders and ass.  Some would bleed but he'd never flinch.  He's 
always get the full 25 strokes and he's always have a hardon when he was done and they 
released him from the post. Usually Jake was there too and he was just as macho about it 
and just as hard.  I just didn't like Jake that much for some reason.  I think I was jealous that 
he took so much of Dad's time and affection.  

"Take your position Don, you'll get double for being away overnight without permission."  
That was all that was said.  I undid my belt, exposed my ass and genitals and laid down at 
the end of the bed next to Matt.  I could feel him humping slightly as our arms and shoulders 
touched.  He always got off on this.  Jake tied my right wrist to Matt's left and then to the 
bedframe.  My left wrist was fastened to the bedpost.  WHAP! the first crack landed across 
my back, stinging like hell.  WHAP, WHAP, WHAP, WHAP, 4 more immediately followed 
landing on my ass and shoulders and another part of my back.  Dad's rhythm was steady, 
moving from one son to the other, beating us all into tough men.  Since I was late coming, I 
was getting about half of the swats.  Geez they hurt but it was not unwelcome.  Matt started 
to breath hard and hump more noticeably.  Dad concentrated on his ass.  We all knew what 
was going on although no one ever mentioned it.  Blow after blow fell on Matt as he pumped 
his cock hard into the mattress.  Finally with a shudder he finished and the belt returned to 
me. Apparently everyone else was done because all the blows landed on me until I'd had at 
least 100.  My whole body screamed with pain, but I like the others remained stoic.  Finally 
he stopped and put the belt back in his jeans.  He started talking to someone. "Hello, Roger, 
come on in now and you can talk to Don.  He's gonna be staying where he is for awhile 
though." "That's OK sir", my best friend answered, "I'll just go around to the other side and 
we can talk."  Dad and Jake took a long rope and lashed my left rubber booted leg to the bed 
post, then my right leg to Matt's left leg, Matt's right to Tim's left, etc. until Nick's right leg 
was fastened to the post at the head of the bed.  "Now you boys stay put for a bit", Dad said 
as he patted each of us on the ass which really hurt after the licking he had just given us.  
Jake chuckled and they clomped downstairs, from whence once again came the grunts and 
creaks of two hip rubber booted men fucking each other vigorously.  "Hey buddy, great 
whoppin' you took", Roger said with a grin as he rumpled my hair.  "Thanks", I said 
sarcastically, "glad you enjoyed it.  How long have you been here anyway?"  Secretly I was 
rather glad Roger had witnessed it.  "Oh, Matt was just shootin his juice when I came in", he 
said.  "Nice to know you guys get it as hard as I do."  He sat on the floor and talked to me as 
if this was quite ordinary.  Well, it wasn't unusual, its just that I usually don't have company.  
I had long ago ceased to be embarrassed about getting whipped so I chatted with him too for 
an hour or so until Dad and Jake screwed themselves out.  Then they came back, untied us, 
we pulled up our pants and Roger and I went down to the kitchen to get a coffee.  I was 
walking very gingerly.  The tops of the boots rubbing my ass was agony.  And sure enough, 
there was a large cum stain on the sheet where Matt had lain.

11. Roger

I stood while the kettle boiled. My ass was still sore and burning from the belting Dad had 
given me. Roger was sitting on a bench by the window, his long, hip rubber booted legs 
stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles. I could see the outline of his cock under 
his tight denim jeans and it was obvious that he had been excited by the our beatings and 
bondage. I was semi-hard myself. 

When the coffee was made I handed one to Roger and gingerly sat next to him on the 
bench. It just held the 2 or us with no room to spare but I liked sitting close to my buddy. So 
close in fact, that our bodies touched. Roger spread his legs as I sat down and our booted 
legs pressed hard against each other. Roger put his arm around my shoulder. "Hey man, you 
really took that whoppin good. It looked like a real hard fucker." "Thanks, Rog - it was. Dad's 
belt always hurts like hell." "Yeah, my Dad's too. He's already promised me a whackin 
tonight, so I'll have a sore ass too. And speaking of hurtin like hell, have you been strapped 
by Mr. Steeves yet?" "Yeah," I answered, "twice. And one from the principal. You?" "Yeah. 
Steeves got me twice too - have you ever been strapped that hard before?" Roger asked. 
"Never. That guy's a pro for sure," I said. I could see Roger's bulge swelling as we talked 
about the strap and since my own was doing the same I got bold. "Tell me buddy, do you still 
get hard when you get a strapping? I remember when we were in the same class you always 
used to." Roger answered, "So you were looking. Sure man, the harder the strapping the 
harder my prick. Its been happening since I was 12. And I know yours does the same. I've 
been looking too." "You bet", I said, "I don't know why but I get so horny when I get the strap - 
or the belt", "So do you do anything about it?," Roger smirked. "What do you mean?" I 
asked, suddenly embarrassed to take this any further. "What the fuck do you think I mean 
asshole - grab a hold of your thing and give it a good pull - spill your juice man. I do it 
everytime." "Yeah," I grinned, "I do that a lot too. It feels good holding onto it with hot swollen 
hands doesn't it?" "Sure fuckin' does", said Roger. "So have you ever thought about doing it 
with someone else?" he asked staring awkwardly at his hot rubber booted feet. "As a matter 
of fact I have given it some thought," I said, "And you?" "It might be cool", Roger replied. He 
looked at me and smiled. "Why don't we give it a try the next time we both get a strapping? 
At the rate we're going it'll probably be Monday. We could go to my place after school. 
Nobody else will be home until supper time." I grinned back at him and put my hand on 
Roger's rubber covered leg. It felt good - hot and strong and manly. "Sounds like a good plan 
to me. I won't have any trouble getting strapped, that's for sure." "Me either", said Roger 
giving me a squeeze with the arm that was still around my shoulder. "Its good to have a best 
bud who understands. Well, I really have to get home. Dad is probably waiting for me with 
belt in hand." "OK dude, good luck - take it like I do Rog." I hugged him back. "Always do, 
man, always  do." said Roger with a smile as he strode out the door. I watched him go 
admiring his hard tight ass and the masculine way he walked in those big hip rubbers. I 
wished I could witness Roger's ass tanning but I hadn't been invited and Roger's Dad was 
not one for unexpected guests. 

I began to think about jerking dick with Roger and that made me even hornier. I hadn't seen 
Roger's gear since we were young boys, but judging by what I could see outlined under 
those tight jeans of his, I figured he was very well hung. Damn I need to get off I thought and 
decided to take a walk. Down on the shore I stood behind a large boulder, released my 
aching dick and stroked it until my white cum spurted out and fell into the ocean. Feeling 
much relieved I went back home. The rest of the weekend passed uneventfully. Dad and 
Jake left Sunday night and I found himself cuddling close to big brother Nick that night. Nick 
opened his arms and said sleepily "Hey little bro, how's it going". We lay in each others 
arms, wadered legs tightly entwined and discovered in the morning from gobs of cum on our 
stomachs that we'd each had one of "those" dreams. Nick just chuckled and pulled me close 
again and said "hey, just a few more minutes." So we dozed again, the 2 oldest brothers 
with our bodies pressed together - very comfortable and very happy to be there. I liked having 
Nick's cum drying on me and I didn't wash it off. I just slipped a T-shirt on over it. "OK" Nick 
said as he watched, "I like that" and he did the same. We would carry our brothers' seed on 
them all day.

I saw Roger briefly as they were going into the school. Roger grinned, "fuckin bitch of a 
beatin man. I can hardly walk straight. The old man sure can hit." "Well, let's see what Mr. 
Steeves has for us today," I answered as we clapped hands on each other shoulders. "After 
school buddy". "You bet". 


12 The Strap Again

I climbed the old wooden stairs quickly, anxious to see Mike again. I couldn't stop thinking 
about what had happened on the weekend. As I entered the classroom I saw him at the 
blackboard. His back was turned and I just stood and stared. I was immediately filled with 
incredible lust and my cock sprang up so fast and got so hard that it ached. Mike was 
dressed casually, no doubt figuring that his clothes should match his new boots. He had on 
a light blue T-shirt and blue jeans so tight that I wondered how he moved in them. I wanted 
to kiss that gorgeous denim covered ass. And, of course, those marvellously shiny, black hip 
rubber boots. Like the rest of the guys', Mike's were pulled up full height, all straps and 
buckles tight. Mike must have sensed me staring and he turned. When he saw me he 
smiled broadly and walked over to me. Although he'd only owned hip waders for 48 hours he 
was a natural. The way he walked in them - like he had spent his life in them - endeared him 
to me that much more. Mike's hand rested on my shoulder. "Hi Don, its great to see you 
again." "You too, Sir, You're looking really good today." "Why thank you, Don, I tried my best. 
Glad you approve. Well, I've got to get this stuff on the board, so I'll talk to you later" "Sure 
thing" I answered as I put my books on my desk and chatted with the other guys, leaning 
against the wall with my hip booted feet stretched out in front of me, all the while keeping my 
eye on Mike.

The bell rang and we boys took our seats with much creaking and squeaking of rubber as all 
but two were in hip waders. The two holdouts were still in their rubber knee boots. Mike 
loved the sound and smell of all those boots and now he had his own to add to the rest and 
he made sure his made a lot of noise too. A few of the boys made comments about the 
teacher's new boots like "nice boots, Sir." Mike was pleased and showed it with a grin as 
well as his expanding bulge which already looked large stuffed into those tight jeans. I 
couldn't concentrate on anything but Mike - his boots, his dick, his ass, his muscular arms - I 
had never lusted after anyone or anything the way I was lusting now for Mike. Ironically, I 
was so caught up in watching Mike, that I hadn't bothered to listen. Mike had asked me a 
question and I didn't have a clue what it was. "Were you daydreaming, Don?", Mike 
demanded. "Yes Sir, I guess I was", I replied. "Then come up here. You're supposed to be 
paying attention not be off in your own little world. No wonder you can't get out of grade 9. 
Well, I'm going to fix you this year." As he spoke he strode over to his desk in his big hip 
rubber boots, opened his drawer and pulled out his strap once again. In class for 20 minutes, 
I thought, and I'm getting strapped already. Mike was definitely out to get me as soon as he 
could for something or anything. I really didn't mind. I was still hard as a telephone pole and 
it had to be obvious to all as I turned and faced the class. In a school full of teenage boys, 
boners are pretty common and several of the other guys in the class probably sported rods of 
their own seeing me so aroused. "I've already strapped you twice this year Don, and schools 
only just started. It seems I'll need to work harder than I have been to get through to you. 
Now put out your hand." Mike was almost as hard as I was and I could tell by the look on 
Mike's face that he was loving every minute of this. I again loved Mike's closeness and felt 
my dick tingle when Mike grabbed my wrist. If it was to be even harder, so be it. I knew I 
could take it. Mike put his foot on top of mine and the rubber squeaked. My first strapping 
from Mike in his hip rubber boots. I loved the feel of Mike's booted foot on mine. I knew how 
much this was going to hurt and again felt that strange mix of excitement and apprehension. 
Anything was worth it though, to be this close to my lover. And I was always ready to meet 
the challenge of the strap. Mike rested that black rubber strap on my hand and waited. It was 
a game, I knew, to psych me out and it was hard to just stand and wait. Let's get started I 
thought as I stared at the strap with its surface worn smooth by bringing agony to countless 
boys over the years. Then suddenly the strap was in flight. Mike's foot pressed down hard on 
mine as he lifted the strap high. Then he smashed it down on my palm with the familiar 
mighty SMACK. My hand once again exploded with that intense stinging pain. Again I 
mustered all my resources to be the stoic. SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK. Slow, steady 
and hard Mike laid on his strokes taking me to the edge of what I could handle, but I didn't go 
over; I held on. Fuck, yes, I can handle this but how could I love something that hurt this 
much. I didn't know but my cock continued to tingle. I hated and loved this strapping shit all 
at the same time. "We'll do sets of five, Don", Mike said, pausing. "Put out the other one." I 
complied and the beating resumed SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK. All there 
was was the pain and my sex. I was focusing on the back wall and Mike's arm was blurred 
as it rose and fell giving wave after wave of hot stinging pain. I was aware of the 32 sets of 
eyes watching me and I knew I looked good. I always made sure I did and I was glad I had 
an appreciative audience. We changed hands again. Back to the first hand and five more 
SMACKS each one awful and wonderful. As much as it hurt, I was glad it was happening. 
Mike was breathing very hard now; he was putting everything he had into this strapping. I 
was hardly breathing at all. Second hand, second round, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, 
SMACK, SMACK. I became aware again of Mike's foot rhythmically pressing and lifting on 
my own foot in a sex-like rhythm, keeping time with each new assault of pain. It was like 
time was suspended and I'd been there getting strapped forever and had another forever to 
go. My balls were tingling now, too. As I started the third set of 5, I glanced at my hand. It 
was bright red and swollen and shaking. I liked the way it looked - and it was going to get 
worse. Mike kept strapping - SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK. "Other hand, 
Don." SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK. Then a fourth set and by now I was over 
the worst. It still hurt just as much, but now I loved it completely and wanted it to continue - in 
fact I was worried Mike might stop. But he didn't. On we went for a fifth set and I realised I 
was going to cum. SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK. As Mike started the fifth set 
on the second hand, I blew. SMACK, spasm after spasm SMACK sent its hot cum creaming 
into my jeans with a sensation of pleasure that was so intense SMACK The dark wetness 
quickly showed all my mates what was occurring. SMACK Mike could feel my involuntary 
shudders and seemed delighted that he had again strapped me to orgasm. SMACK. I was a 
bit embarrassed but in a way proud. It had felt too good to be too ashamed, and besides it 
was all guys here. "That'll be all for now Don, although I'm sure you'll be back for more. Take 
your seat" said Mike, completing 25 strokes on each hand. I strode back to my seat and sat 
down, satisfied that I had done myself proud. Amazingly my dick was still as hard as ever. 

The rest of the morning went by pleasantly. Once Mike had "got" me he eased back and was 
quite friendly, touching me whenever he went past my desk, sometimes stopping right 
beside me as he talked. During which times, my sore, swollen hands would slide to the edge 
of my desk so I could touch Mike's hot rubber boots. Mike strapped 5 other guys during the 
morning but none got as many strokes as I did and none of them creamed their jeans either. 
At lunch time the guys joked about me cumming but I just joked too and there was 
admiration in their comments. I was very pleased it had happened. I saw Roger too and told 
him I had been strapped. "Cool", Roger said. "Mr. Cameron strapped me this morning too. 
So, do we have a date for this afternoon?" "Try and keep me away," I answered. 

In the afternoon Mr. Cameron was in and asked for an assignment that I hadn't done and 
didn't even remember. Me and 4 others walked the wooden floor boards again in booted feet 
to the front of the class and got strapped yet again. Mr. Cameron gave us each 15 of his best 
on each hand, which, while not as hard as Mr. Steeve's, still hurt desperately as my hands 
were still in rough shape from the morning's beating. Nonetheless, I took it in good form, 
stoic and with cock hard, fifth in the line of five boys. Again in a strange way I was very glad 
to be getting strapped. No orgasm this time, though. As in previous days, Mike could be 
heard throughout the afternoon, strapping the grade 10 boys. I wondered if one of them 
might be Roger. I certainly hoped so. When classes were over and Mike came back to his 
room he said, “Don, I want you to come to my place today after school for some of that extra 
help". "I'd love to Sir, but I have plans for after school. Would this evening be OK?", I asked. 
"Well, if it  must be this evening, OK, but now it'll mean 2 sessions. Today and tomorrow at 7 
PM." "I'll be there Sir" I said with a grin. I held out my hand for Mike to shake. "And thank you 
Sir." "My pleasure", grinned Mike squeezing my sore and swollen hand tightly. I hurried out 
to find Roger and head for his place.

13. Roger's Place

I met Roger on the stairs and clapped him heartily on the back. "Shit man, I'd rather you 
didn't do that for a few days", Roger said. "My back's in pretty rough shape. Dad kinda went 
overboard the other night." "Oh, sorry buddy", I replied, "I just wanted to tell you I got another 
strapping this afternoon." "No crap!", said Roger, "Me too. Holy fuck can Steeves ever swing 
that fuckin strap!" "That's for sure, but I'm glad he got you too. I heard the strap going and I 
was hoping you were getting it", I said. "Gee thanks, friend", grinned Roger. "Well, I wanted 
you to be as hard as I am and you did say getting strapped makes you horny", I grinned 
back. We understood each other. "Always", Roger replied, "and I'm so horny now I could 
fuck a sheep." "That shouldn't be necessary", I laughed. "Hey, I heard you creamed this 
morning!" "Yeah, I did -- a bit embarrassing but it was awesome too. 25 on each hand and it 
just spurted out. Fuck what an orgasm - right there in front of everybody." "Cool - I hope 
you're still horny, though", Roger said. "Man, I'm 18, I'm always horny", I replied. "I know the 
feeling", said Roger adjusting his hardness in his pants now that we were down the road by 
ourselves. We were sweating in the hot September sun and I pulled off my shirt. Of course, 
no amount of sweating would get either guy out of his boots. Roger did likewise and I 
whistled as I saw the bruises and belt marks crisscrossing Roger's back. "Man, no wonder 
you didn't want me touching your back. I'd say the old man did get out of control. You need 
some salve or something on that, buddy." "Well, we have salve, but there's no one to put it 
on for me", said Roger. "Dad sure wouldn't. He beats the hell out of me and then wants to 
forget about it - till the next time." "I'll do it for you, dude - you got any rubber gloves?" "Yeah, 
why?" Roger asks. "Cause I don't want to get that medicated shit on my hands. I want to feel 
the full effects of my strappings", I replied. "You are an idiot", replied Roger, "But I know 
exactly what you mean. I wouldn't put salve on my hands, either."

When they get to Roger's he gets the jar of salve and a pair of rubber gloves. I put the gloves 
on and tell Roger to undo his pants and lie face down on his bed. I proceed to rub the salve 
over every inch of Roger's back and ass, admiring the new man's body that has replaced my 
friend's boy's body. The massage went on much longer than necessary to spread salve. 
"This is weird man", I say, "We've been friends all these years but we haven't seen each 
other's stuff since we were about 7 or 8 years old." Roger rolled over and his hard young 
cock stood straight. I opened my pants and mine also sprang up. I pulled off the gloves and 
slowly started stroking. Roger grinned as he too started to stroke. "Well, not exactly". "What 
do you mean", I asked curiously. "Last week buddy -- I saw you wander off into the bushes 
and was curious. I followed you and saw you beatin' your meat. I didn't know how you'd react 
if you knew I was there so I just joined in quietly, shot my juice and left. "So, that mystery is 
solved. I saw the cum on the ground but I didn't know whose dick it had come out of", I said. 
"I wish now I'd let you see me", Roger said, "but like I said, I wasn't sure what you'd do." "I 
can see you now, “I said, "let's sit." I sat on the floor with my back leaning against the wall 
and my rubber booted legs and feet spread out in front of me. I made sure my cock and balls 
were clear of my jeans. Roger sat too, facing me, his somewhat soothed back leaning 
against his bed and his wadered legs and feet extending to meet mine. We put rubber sole 
to rubber sole and sat wordlessly watching our best friend jerking his prick with red, sore, 
swollen, well strapped hands. We were both incredibly turned on by the sight and also by the 
feeling of having been strapped and knowing that the other had been strapped just as hard. I 
was wishing Roger and I were still in the same class so we could get strapped together or at 
least watch each other get strapped instead of hearing it from the next room and wondering. 
We pushed against each other's feet and could feel the strength of our man legs through the 
soles of our ever present hip rubber boots. Roger spurted first, his cum landing on both our 
boots, I followed quickly and mixed my cum with Rogers'. "Fuck, that was great", said Roger, 
moving over beside me. We put our arms around each other and rested. "Hey Don", Roger 
said after a few minutes, "Why don't you stay over tonight?" "I'd like to Rog, but I've got to go  
see Mr. Steeves this evening. He wants to give me some extra help." 

"That seems a little weird, doesn't it?" Roger asked. "I don't mind. I like him and if he wants 
me to go to his place that's OK with me", I answered. "OK", said Roger. "By the way, I 
suppose you noticed the dude chucked his cowboy boots for rubber waders?" "Oh yeah, I 
noticed", I said with a grin. "Alright", Roger replied, “What’s going on. You've got a funny grin 
on your face. Tell me all you know." Roger's arm moved from around my shoulder to around 
my neck in a head lock. Roger always won when we wrestled and today was no exception. I 
didn't give in right away, though. Instead we rolled around the floor for awhile, cocks and 
balls pressed against each other and we made sure there was ample opportunity to explore 
our buddy's body. Finally, as Roger lay on top of me, I conceded defeat and told Roger all 
about my time with Mike. We lay together, hard dicks between our bellies, rubber covered 
legs entwined, sore hands pressed palm to palm while I talked. Both of us guys were very 
happy to be in this position and were reluctant to move. Slowly Roger started humping and I 
responded. Harder and harder we thrust against each other panting and sweating and 
holding on tight as our swollen dicks pushed at each other. Finally we both shot another load 
all over each others' stomach and chests. "Awesome man", said Roger finally. "Why don't 
you come back here after tonight's session and tell me all about it." "OK", I responded, "If I 
can, I will." "Fair enough, but you know I am jealous." "Don't be Rog. We'll always be best 
friends and I think a whole lot more. With Mike its just plain roaring lust. I've got more cum in 
this dick than I know what to do with. Plenty for all" "Idiot", said Roger, "let's get something to 
eat so you can visit your teacher." We got up feeling very grown up and manly and went to 
the washroom where we cleaned each other off, We fastened our pants and belts and made 
sure the hip rubber boots were once more pulled up full height and tightly buckled in place. 
Then we went arm in arm to the kitchen.

14. Extra Help

After supper Roger and I sat in the kitchen with hip booted legs propped up together on the 
table. We had our arms around each others shoulders, satisfied and content, enjoying each 
others physical closeness even more, now that we had "gone all the way”. Soon, though, it 
was time for me to head off to Mike's for the first of my two extra help sessions. I gave Roger 
a bear hug and headed off up the road. My hot boots felt so good as they hugged my legs. I 
ran my hands - still sore from my earlier strappings - over the hot rubber as I walked. I started 
getting hard again as I thought about an evening with the hip rubber booted teacher. It really 
was true - at 18 I WAS always horny. And fuckin' glad of it I thought, giving my rod a rub 
through my jeans. This sex shit feels so good, I don't ever want to get satisfied. I had timed 
my walk so that I would arrive on time and so at 7 PM sharp I knocked on Mike's door. 
"Come in", Mike called, and I walked into the living room. Mike was ready for me. He was 
standing there wearing only his black hip rubber boots, red silk briefs and a thick black 
leather belt fastened tightly around his waist, holding his waders firmly in place. As I stared 
at him I saw Mike's cock harden and stretch against the silk. As his briefs tented out, his 
balls slid out the sides of his underwear. My prick immediately became engorged with blood 
and got so hard it ached. We stood and stared for a minute or two. Mike broke the silence. 
He came over to me, put his hand on my shoulder and told me to strip down to boots and 
belt. I had to take my boots off to remove my jeans, but quickly put them back on. The hot 
wet boots were now pressing against my bare flesh.

When I was ready, Mike took me into the dining room. The table was bare except for that 
familiar instrument of pain. What appeared to be a brand new black rubber strap lay in the 
middle. Mike grinned, "I got this from the supply room at school. There's a whole stack of 
them there. The old one at school is pretty worn but I need to break this in before I use it in 
the classroom. I figure several thousand swats should be a good start". I felt a tingling in my 
balls - I knew where the thousands of swats were going to land. " Besides, I know you're the 
kind of guy who needs more strappings that I can give you in class." His grin got wider. 
"Here, my boy, there's no witnesses." I had nothing to say. I stared at the strap and clenched 
my hands into fists. I knew what was coming was going to be more than I'd ever taken 
before and I was both excited and scared. I'd already had the strap twice today and I really 
didn't relish this at the moment. Mike gently rubbed my shaft. "I know you can take this, 
dude. You're a tough one - you told me so yourself." "Yes sir," I answered with as much 
bravado as I could muster. The feeling of his big hand stroking my dick was worth doing 
anything for. I had to please this guy no matter what it cost. "I'll take it sir, I always do." 
"Good man," Mike said and walked over to the table and picked up the strap. It was stiff and 
the surface was covered with tiny bumps. The ones used at school had been worn smooth 
and sagged more when held. They had been broken in on the hands of thousands of boys 
over the years. No one got through school without at least some strappings. Mike swung the 
strap through the air, whether to practice or to intimidate, I wasn't sure. "Now then, here's 
that extra help you need. Put out your hand." I planted my booted feet firmly apart, took a 
deep breath and put out my left hand. Mike rubbed the strap against my prick and I nearly 
came. I was aware of how stiff that new strap was. "I think I'll take these off," Mike said as he 
pulled his silk briefs down. His hard dick slapped against his belly as it sprang free. He 
stepped out of them and tossed them aside. Now both of us were naked but for shiny black 
hip rubber boots and belts. Both cocks super hard, both guys super horny. Mike took me by 
the wrist and set the strap across my palm for the wait. I gulped audibly as I got a close look 
at the strap. It looked vicious. I suddenly wanted more than anything to feel its wrath. I 
decided I would focus on Mike's prick and balls and watch them flop and jiggle against the 
black rubber of his hip boots. I fixed my gaze on that beautiful big hard rod and waited. It 
seemed to me that we were standing there forever. Then, finally, it began.

Watching Mike's gear move as he raised and lowered his arm, the first whack of that new 
strap landed on my hand. I gasped and closed my eyes to gain my composure. It was worse 
than the strappings Mike had given him before - it was this strap - so hard and unyielding - 
and naturally Mike showed no mercy. "Oh fuck," I thought, "I can't do this" "Steady, Don, get 
a grip", Mike said, "there's lots more to come." "Yes sir, I'll try," I managed to croak out. Once 
more I fixed my gaze on Mike's privates and braced for the second stroke. SMACK! Again I 
closed my eyes against the pain and fought with all my strength not to make a sound. My 
cock had quickly shrivelled. SMACK - SMACK - SMACK - a stroke about every 10 seconds. I 
started to adjust to the new level of pain. I had nearly lost it, but I could hang on now. "Good 
for you, dude, I knew you could do it," Mike encouraged as he saw the control come back 
into my eyes. He laid on five more at 5 second intervals. The pain was beyond description 
but I started to appreciate it and feel proud that I was taking it. We changed hands and Mike 
laid 10 smacks onto my right hand. No other words were spoken. The only sounds were of 
two men breathing, Mike's boots creaking as he moved and the swish and smack of the 
strap. As we went back to my left hand, I knew that this strapping was like nothing I had ever 
had before, but I knew it was just the start of many. The slapping and smacking continued. I 
was in absolute agony, but I wouldn't have traded places with anyone. I was where I should 
be. By the time I had had 20 on each hand, my prick was growing again. "Alright, good lad," 
Mike said. He paused to catch his breath. "This is great Don, you're doing wonderfully." Mike 
rubbed his own prick gently and said "Round 3". I put out my left hand again. It was terribly 
swollen and bright red. I loved the way it looked. Once again I took the assault of the strap on 
my hands and by the time the total reached 30 on each I was rock hard again. Now I could 
go on forever. A fourth set of 10 was laid on and then a fifth - I had never had this many 
before. At 50 Mike stopped. I could not bend my hands. They throbbed and stung 
magnificently. Mike immediately got down in front of me and began to tongue my cock. He 
took it down his throat and kept working on it while I shot my load with great force. I groaned 
with intense pleasure while Mike massaged my ass.

"Now lean across the table, Don" Mike said. And again I groaned as Mike walloped my ass 
with the strap. Now that I'd cum there was no pleasure in the pain. Ten hearty whacks and 
my ass was on fire. The sting was much worse than Dad's belt. Mike wet his dick with spit 
and wasted no time impaling me. I took him in willingly and with only a few frantic thrusts his 
hot man juice gushed inside me. We went to the couch and sat down, Mike fondling my hard 
again dick. I tried to work on Mike's but had very little movement in my hands. Finally, I got 
down and sucked him to another orgasm. Mike offered me his ass then and I took my time 
pumping in his tight hole and enjoying my master's body and boots until I came again and 
collapsed on top of Mike utterly exhausted, filled with throbbing pain and love. Mike held me 
close for awhile until it was time for me to leave. I got dressed, we hugged tightly and I 
headed back to  Roger's to share what had happened. "Fuck", I thought, "I'm due back here 
tomorrow".

15. Extra Help Part 2

When I arrived back at Roger's my best buddy was waiting for me. I was exhausted and my 
hands were in rough shape. They were very swollen and I still had very little movement in 
them. They were throbbing madly and had never hurt this much before. Having had wild sex 
with Mike my dick was spent too. Roger on the other hand was incredibly turned on when I 
told him what had happened. "Holy fuck, man", Roger said. "Unbelievable. Geez that makes 
me horny." "Tell you what, buddy, let's go up on your bed and you can poke it up my ass. At 
least I can lie down for that." We went upstairs. I flopped down on the bed, dropped my 
jeans far enough to expose my hole and threw my hot booted legs over Roger's shoulders as 
Roger knelt at my butt and began shoving his big prick into my hole. My asshole was sore 
too but I was getting used to having hard dick up it and I rather liked it. With his hands Roger 
massaged the supple rubber of my boots as he rammed his cock in and out until he finally 
came. I could feel the heat as his juice filled my bowels. Roger collapsed onto me and we 
lay in a tangle of dicks, asses and boots and slept. 

When we woke, my hands were somewhat better. We dressed, ate and went off to school. It 
was raining again and today all 33 guys in grade 9 plus the teacher were hip rubber booted. 
Mike, of course, was friendly and acted as if nothing had happened. I got more and more 
tense as the morning wore on waiting to see if I was going to get the strap again. The smell 
of hot rubber was intoxicating as all those male legs and feet sweated in their rubber 
coverings. 2, 3, 4 other guys got strapped as the periods went by until finally, last period, 
Mike again placed his large manly hand on my shoulder and said "Alright, boy. Up to the 
front of the class. You just earned another strapping for that work." Once more I walked to 
the front of the class and planted my hip rubber booted feet apart in my macho stance. Out 
went my hand, still red and swollen. Mike examined it and rubbed his hand over mine, 
clearly enjoying its condition. Then Mike took his stance, grabbed my wrist, planted his 
rubber booted foot against mine and once more swung the strap. This at least was the old 
familiar pain level - the old worn strap. It smacked and whacked and my hands stung again 
and throbbed anew as Mike delivered 20 of his best. I was very hard but didn't cum this time. 
Maybe my supply was running low. I was glad of the new strapping because it brought my 
hands right back to the condition they had been in last night. They had never been in such a 
state, but I was beginning to think that this was going to be their permanent condition. Not a 
bad way to be, I thought. When Mike finished, he said "I think that this is going to be a daily 
ritual, Don. You seem to deserve the strap more than most. Well, if I have to strap you every 
day of the school year, that's fine with me." "And very fine with me too", I said to myself.

At lunch time I sat with Roger and found out he had gotten a 20 stroker from Mr. Harrison. 
We sat on a bench in the hallway, booted legs pressed tightly together, enjoying each others 
presence. Now that we had had sex together, we seemed to be better friends than ever. 
Before long the bell rang and we went back to class for the afternoon. Second period saw 
me getting the strap again from Mr. Harrison. Another 20 stroker, it hurt my raw swollen 
hands delightfully. I felt so wonderful as I stood there getting smacked again being stoic and 
macho while Mr. Harrison did a number on my hands. I decided I better go home today and 
so I shared my state with my brothers who were very impressed. Nick, always my 
encouraged, especially thought it was great that I was being strapped so much. "I'm real 
proud of you, bro", he said. "Show them how much you can take, man. You're one tough 
dude." We hugged and it felt good to be in my hero's arms. "Thanks man, I'm happy that you 
approve." "Approve? I'm fuckin envious, man. I mean I get strapped everyday at work, but it 
sounds like this Mike guy is taking you beyond anything I've ever had." Matt chimed in at this 
point "I hope he's still here when I get to grade 9. I could take some strappings like that". "I 
bet you could", I said. "And no doubt you will Matt. It's not hard to get strapped around this 
place. In fact its damn well impossible not to." "Good thing, too", Matt said. "I can't imagine 
going to a school where they didn't use the strap."

Soon enough it was time to head back to Mike's and the session was similar to last nights. 
Standing naked but for boots and belts, we both had cocks that were hard and dripping. 
Mike picked up the new strap which I both dreaded and wanted. Seeing it again, dampened 
my resolve a bit, it looked so vicious, but once again I focused on Mike's beautiful cock and 
balls and steeled myself as Mike gently placed the strap on my upturned right palm. At least 
the volume of pain was not going to be a surprise. Taking it was going to be just as hard, but 
without the shock value, I figured I wouldn't gasp or flinch like I did last night. I really 
regretted that. Mike grinned as he moved his booted feet into a balanced position. "Too bad I 
can't do all my strapping like this, Don, but I don't think the school board would approve of a 
teacher wearing nothing but boots and a smile." SMACK! The fury of the rubber connected 
again. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! The fiery knives of pain seared into my flesh as I 
struggled to breath normally. I kept watching Mike's hefty manmeat bounce as his arm 
raised and lowered and all then force of his muscled body was transferred into that strap. It 
was more than I could stand but I had to. I would not show any sign of pain. Mike was 
counting on me to hold out. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!SMACK! SMACK! my left hand now 
too felt like it was being cut by knives. Back and forth from one hand to the other, in 
complete silence, I took yet another 50 smacks on each. "Not even slightly broken in yet. 
We'd better do this everyday I think, Don. Maybe this strap will be ready for classroom use in 
a couple of years. Then I can start working on another one, eh?" I managed to say "Whatever 
you think, sir. You're in charge." "Damn right, boy, and I aim to stay that way, too. Now bend 
over the table." This time 15 cracks landed on my rear end with hot searing sting and as 
Mike placed the strap back on the table he shoved his prick up my asshole. I really was 
starting to get used to this by now and relaxed to let my sex god fuck me. It didn't get any 
better than this. Over Mike's panting and the creaking of our boots, I thought he heard the 
door close. I turned my head just as Mike was spewing his load to see my father standing in 
the doorway.

16 Dad's Plan

"Dad", I exclaimed in surprise, "What are you doing here?". Mike jumped as I yelled. He was 
so busy pumping his load up my ass, he hadn't noticed the intruder. His big hard dick 
rammed so deeply inside of me helped to keep his balance; with only a momentary 
hesitation he kept thrusting away. "I came to see what the fuck was goin on here", Dad 
replied. "The boys told me you were over here getting extra strappings and I thought that was 
a great idea and wanted to meet the teacher who would take the time to discipline my son. I 
guess I've been mislead." "No, Dad, you haven't", I said with Mike still going at me for all he 
was worth, our rubber boots creaking and squeaking as he worked. "Mr. Steeves strapped 
me hard - yesterday evening and again tonight." "This don't look like strapping to me", Dad 
said. "Look at my hands, sir, you'll see for yourself. You've missed the strapping part". Dad 
examined my red swollen hands. Mike was really in a frenzy; he must have been totally 
turned on by this. 

Dad had to admit that I had indeed been strapped. "Those are well-strapped hands, son, no 
shit, but what is this bugger doing up your hole?" "Dad", I answered. "I'm 18 now remember. 
I'm an adult and I can do what I like. I want Mike to fuck me, sir. I like it. I fuck him too." "I 
wonder what the school board would say about a teacher fuckin his students?", Dad asked. 
Mike was holding me by the waist and screwing for all he was worth. Finally with a great 
spasm he had a second orgasm and slid his dick out of my ass. When he had composed 
himself he said "I don't suppose that its any of their business, sir.", Mike responded. " Don's 
a great fuck, sir and a good kid. I've been strapping him soundly ever since school started 
and I certainly intend to continue. If he's willing we'll keep fucking too." "Well", Dad said, "I 
don't think a teacher should be able to bumfuck a boy, even if he is 18, and not pay any 
consequences." "What consequences did you think I should pay?", Mike asked. Dad thought 
for awhile and then went over to the table where the strap lay. He moved good for a big guy 
in heavy hip rubber boots. "Does this strap hurt, boy?", he asked me. "Yes sir, very much. I've 
never been strapped like I was these 2 times." "It's brand new, sir", Mike added, "Very firm 
and unyielding. It does a wonderful job." "How many whacks did you give my boy, teacher?", 
Dad asked. "I gave him 50 of the best on each hand both times, sir. But of course he gets 
more during the day in school too." "Well that sounds good. I want him to get that extra 
strapping everyday - at least 50 on each". My cock instantly hardened and my mouth went 
dry. I was going to get this every day! "At least some days he should have more than 50. 
That's the first part of the plan. Are you agreeable, teacher?" "Certainly, sir", Mike answered. 
"I'd be glad to keep strapping Don. 

What's the next part?" "Well, next I want to find out just how painful that "new" strap of yours 
is. My boy's telling me he's an adult now so he better fuckin be prepared to take an adult 
dose of the strap", Dad answered. "How do you want to check it out sir?", Mike asked. 
"There's only one way, shithead - I thought teachers was supposed to be smart. Give me the 
same fuckin strapping you gave my boy. Then I'll know." He went to the door and called "Hey 
Jake, get your ass in here." "My buddy is going to give me a second opinion." "Yeah, what is 
it?", asked Jake as he strode through the door in his dark brown hip waders. "We're gonna 
take a strappin," Dad said. "I want to see how much this fucker can hurt". "OK, no sweat", 
Jake answered. The two friends stood side by side. Dad put his hand out first. "Do it 
teacher", he said. Mike went at it with great energy. His dick swinging in the breeze as he 
put down sets of 10 on the four manly hands held out in front of him. Dad and Jake were of 
course stoic but their pricks responded. I wanted to jerk off standing so close watching this, 
but I didn't figure it was a good idea. I'd get off later. They took their 50 on each hand and 
Mike set the strap back on the table. "Damn fine", Jake said at once. "Fuckin hurts bad, don't 
it? Well worth the effort." "Yeah", Dad said. "I must admit that's a hurtful strapping. Almost as 
much sting as the official prison strap down at the courthouse. Not quite, but almost. It'll do 
fine, teacher. Yeah my boy gets this every day and I may send some of my others from time 
to time too. You'll strap them just the same." 

"Certainly sir, I'll be glad to oblige.", Mike answered fondling his balls. I was enjoying being 
naked with my teacher here while Dad and Jake looked on. "Now part 3", said Dad. 
"Teacher, you're gonna feel this strap your ownself. Any fellah that would screw the bum off 
his own student needs a whippin. You take your licks and it goes no further. Agreed?" 
"Agreed", Mike answered immediately. "Lean over the table, teacher", Dad said. "Don, you 
go round the other side and hold tight to his arms. Jake, get some rope and lash his feet to 
the table legs." Jake went out to the truck and I went around and held Mike's massive hairy 
arms. Mike winked at me as we stood with our faces close together. He didn't seem at all 
upset by this. Jake returned with some rope and they each pulled one of Mike's booted legs 
to a table leg and tied it as tight as they could. Mike was severely stretched and could not 
move. He was totally at Dad's mercy. Dad wasted no time, but started swinging the strap for 
all he was worth. Mike tensed and gasped a bit but otherwise made no fuss. The strap bit 
into his ass with tremendous whacks and cracks. Fast and furious, again and again, 
SMACK, WHACK, CRACK. Dad kept strapping and Mike endured it all in silence. I hung on 
tight to Mike's arms. I was very impressed. Dad gave him a walloping that he wouldn't forget 
for a long time. There must have been a hundred blows. "Done", Dad said. "At least you took 
it like a man. Now, Don, turn about is only fair. Drive your dick up his bung-hole and get your 
rocks off, boy. You're a man now, act like it." I didn't need any more prompting. I moved 
around the table to Mike's incredibly red ass. The heat coming from it was awesome. "Hard, 
Don - fuck him hard.", Jake encouraged. I slid into that hot tight hole and it was so 
wonderful. I started pumping and thrusting as he had done to me. The fact that Dad and 
Jake were watching made it even more horny. Before long I realised that Dad was 
bumfuckin Jake too and both Dad and I shot our loads at the same time. "I'll be back, 
teacher," Dad said as he and Jake left. I untied Mike and we went into the living room. "Fuck, 
I can't sit down, I'll have to lie on my stomach. Did you ever see such a beating?", Mike 
asked. He wasn't upset about it - he was grinning. "Best damn ass strapping I've ever had. 
And just think, I have lots more to come. Just like you Don. This is gonna be one horny 
fuckin year for that strap." We lay together for awhile just because we liked the feel of each 
others bodies. Finally, I had to leave. I put my jeans back on and walked off to Roger's. I told 
him what had happened and asked him if he wanted to sleep over at my place. He didn't 
care to be alone in his place so he agreed. We walked through the dark, arms around each 
others shoulders, hip rubber boots creaking as we strode. 

17.  The weekend

When we got home it was time to go to bed.  The rule was that any overnight guests had to 
sleep in our beds with us so Roger crawled in, sandwiched between Nick and I.  He lay with 
his face next to mine and his hands made their way to my prick.  I retaliated and wrapped my 
swollen, throbbing hands around his very hard cock.  We began to move in that primal 
sexual rhythm.  Nick rapidly caught on and his hard dick pressed against Roger's hole.  Our 
boots creaking and our breathing heavy we turned the other boys on with our noises.  I think 
before too long 7 dicks emptied into those 3 beds.  Then we slept.  The rest of the week 
continued in similar fashion.  Each day in school saw me get at least 2 strappings.  On 
Thursday I had a trip to the office and got a third one from the principal.  Then at 7pm it was 
off to Mike's for another 50 on each hand with his new strap and several good whacks to 
heat up my ass, then a hot and frantic fuck afterwards.  We seemed to be constantly horny, 
Mike and I.  We had only to look at each other and we were immediately hard.  Mike never 
made any attempt to hide his condition either, as he charged around his classroom in his 
ever present hip rubber boots, teaching and strapping.  Roger continued to sleep over.  His 
father showed no sign of returning and Roger much preferred the company of Nick and I at 
night to being alone in that big house of his.  To be truthful Nick and I rather enjoyed having 
our bed filled to busting with hot and horny bodies.  Roger and I started trading boots.  Each 
morning we'd peel our sweat soaked boots off, shower, get dressed and slide our buddy's 
boots back on.  Our sweat mingled and we loved the feeling.  At night we took the boots off 
only long enough to remove our jeans then put them back on over our bare legs.  That way 
we were free to fuck.

   On Friday morning Uncle Bill called.  He was going to be away for the weekend and 
wanted to know if I could stay with Reg.  He didn't like leaving him alone for too long and 
Reg specifically asked for me.  I told Uncle Bill that Roger was staying with me and he told 
me that he was welcome to come along.  "Come right after school, Don, supper will be 
ready".  He would hear no argument; I wanted to come after my visit to Mike's.  Oh well, I'd 
have to leave again right after supper to be on time for my strapping.  I mentioned my 
situation to Mike at lunch time after he gave me a 25 on each hand strapping.  "Well, given 
the circumstances, Don, I don't mind making a house call - if you don't mind your cousin 
witnessing your strapping".  "Shit, man, Reg thinks the strap is great.  I bet he'd love to hear 
it whacking down on my hands", I answered.  "Good", Mike said, "I'll be there at 7."  Roger 
and I went along right after school and were welcomed effusively by Reg - again clad in 
rubber waders and a big heavy rubber raincoat even though the sun was shining.  He hugged 
us both and I couldn't help but notice his hardness press into me as we embraced.
 
   As promised supper was ready and we sat down to eat.  Although Roger had met Reg 
before he had never spent any time with him so he was fascinated watching him.  Reg took 
note of his silence. "Roger, you're not saying much", he said. "Uh, no, I guess not", Roger 
stammered.  "What's the matter, buddy are you intimidated by me?", Reg asked with a grin.  
Roger was obviously uncomfortable. "No man, I mean, uh, I was just, uh ....".  "I bet you're 
impressed that a blind guy like me can find his mouth, huh?"  "oh no, I mean, well, I was just 
wondering what it like being blind", Roger said.  "Ah - dark man, real fuckin' dark", Reg 
replied.  "Although never having seen light I have nothing to compare it to.  The best I can 
explain is to say - think about what its like behind your head.  You can't see back there, 
right?  Well for me its exactly the same in front.  Nothing in any direction.  I guess that's a 
better description - not dark - fuckin nothin man".  "Wow", said Roger. "Now don't you go 
feelin fuckin sorry for me dude cause I'm quite fine the way I am.  I can find my mouth not to 
mention some other interesting parts."  "Gee man, I think you're awesome", Roger said.  
"Hey, Don, a new member for my fan club.  Maybe I can initiate him later on", Reg chuckled.  
"But seriously though, man", said Roger, "I think its neat the way you get around and stuff".  
"Maybe later on we'll try a little blindness experiment guys, what'dya think?", Reg said.  
"Sure, man, it sounds cool", we both replied.

    I then told Reg about Mike, my daily evening strappings and his visit here.  "Well, fuck, 
Don - I'm finally gonna get to see you get the strap!  - well, sort of.  I love it - you can show 
your cuz just how its done.  How about you Roger, are you gettin' it too?"  "Well, I get it in 
school everyday, but Don's the only one who gets it in the evening."  "That doesn't seem fair 
somehow.  I'll have to have a chat with this Mike guy", said Reg.  We drank our coffee and 
waited for Mike's arrival.   
 
   At sharp 7, there was a knock on the door.  Reg opened it and Mike introduced himself.  
"Don's told me all about you, Sir", Reg said, "and I want you to feel at home here.  But I do 
think that Don shouldn't be singled out - I think we should all be strapped."  "Fine with me", 
Mike said, "but do you know what you're in for?"  "As a matter of fact, no, but its time I found 
out.  I'm no wimp - I'm sure I can handle it.  What do you think Roger?", Reg asked.  "Hey I'm 
a pro at this strap shit", Roger replied but his voice wasn't convincing. I don't think he was 
too eager.  "Right then", Mike said, "let's get ready. Everyone strip - boots only for your 
strappings."  We all complied and the 4 of us soon stood there in only our hip waders.  Mike 
was hard already & Reg was at half mast.  Looking at the others got me going.  I gave Roger 
a squeeze on his ass and he too started to rise up.  Mike took charge and started swishing 
the strap through the air.  Reg was listening intently. "I'll let you have a feel of this sucker 
before I start hitting with it, Reg", Mike said. "here".  He passed it to Reg who felt it and 
smelled it and with a grin passed it back. "An awesome weapon for sure - I bet it stings like 
holy fuck", he said.  His cock, too,  was at full attention.  "I'll go down the line of hands" 
instructed Mike.  "Sets of 10 on each.  Don first, then Roger and the Reg.  Then I'll start 
again.  Don - hands".  I put out my left hand and as always focused on Mike's cock and balls 
as he beat my hand.  The pain, as always, was incredible.  I was getting used to having my 
hands on fire, but that didn't make it hurt any less.  He strapped my right hand and then went 
to Roger.  He made no sound, either, but I could tell he was agonising with this new strap - 
this was his first experience with it. "Sounds fuckin cool boys", Reg said as Roger's turn 
finished. "Hands Reg", Mike commanded, "its anything but cool".  He laid on his first stroke 
and Reg's cock immediately started throbbing.  By the time he took his third smack he was 
shooting great streams of cum out onto Mike's black hip rubbers.  Mike said nothing, he just 
kept whacking.  Reg also said nothing, he stood stoically and took his pain.  Mike kept 
strapping - me, Roger, Reg - me, Roger, Reg until we had all had our 50.  

Then he set down his strap and went over to Reg.  "Good job, dude.  That was awesome for 
a guy whose never been strapped.  You did make a mess of my boots though".  "Well, 
they're made of rubber, right? - easy to clean.  Fuck, that was more painful than I expected.  
Don, I fuckin admire you even more for taking all those strappings."  He reached down and 
found Mike's hard prick.  He put his large red hot throbbing hands around it and began to jerk 
him off. "Let's get horizontal, dude", he said and pulled Mike down on the coach and offered 
him his ass which Mike quickly filled.  As Mike pounded away at Reg's hole, Roger got down 
and I quickly entered him.  Before long we were all shooting sticky white juice all over the 
place, loving the way our hands felt and the hot hard rubber booted bodies that surrounded 
us.

18. The Weekend Continues.

  We fucked for what seemed like hours.  We couldn't get enough of each others hot asses 
and we changed partners and positions frequently.  Our hot sweaty rubber waders filling the 
room with the wonderful aroma of rubber and the periodic creaking and squeaking as one 
man's boots caressed another’;s.  My cock was starting to get as sore as my hands.  Finally 
we were spent and lay together on the floor.  Reg groped around and found Mike's hip rubber 
boots and with a little direction from the stud teacher he licked off the gobs of cum that he 
had splattered on them earlier.  When his boots were once again shiny and clean, Mike 
decided it was time to leave.  Slipping his waders off only long enough to hop into his jeans, 
they were buckled back in place within the minute.  The rest of us were content as we were 
and so were in no hurry to get dressed.  Reg was still totally hyper.  "Fuck man, I finally got 
the strap - I can't believe it.  What a turn on guys.  It does sting worse than I could ever have 
imagined.  I hope you guys aren't tired.  I'm really pumped and couldn't go to sleep".  He was 
almost comical he was so excited.  This big, rubber booted blindman seemed more like a kid 
than an adult at this point.  "Hell, man, we'll stay up with ya", Roger answered with a grin.  
He was finding it funny too.  "Then wait here dudes, I'll be back in a minute", Reg said as he 
felt his way up the stairs.  We sat side by side on the coach and put our arms around each 
other.  Roger pressed his booted leg tightly against mine and set his other hand on my lap 
caressing my balls gently while we waited.  We could hear the occasional bang and clomp 
from overhead.  "What is that guy doin up there?", I wonder out loud.  "I don't know", Roger 
replies "but he's making an awful racket."  He hollers up the stairs "Hey, man, do you need 
some help up there?"  "No thanks, I think I have what I wanted", Reg calls back.  A moment 
later he comes back down with something in his hand.  "Alright.  You guys wanted to know 
what its like to be blind, here's your chance.  Put these on."  He held out 2 black rubber 
hoods.  Roger and I each take one and immediately our dicks started growing again.  
"Where did these come from, Reg?", I ask.  "Well, Dad got a few a number of years back.  
He wears one quite a bit.  He says it helps him understand me and the way my life is.  We 
also use it for folks like you who wonder what its like to be blind."  "These are fuckin neat, 
man", says Roger.  "Put them on guys.  They lace up the back so I can pull them good and 
tight and then they lock in place.  You can't see a thing in them.  But don't worry, your mouth 
and nose have holes. Take a last look around dudes and then welcome to my world."  Roger 
and I grin at each other and I pull the hood over my head.  It feels amazing as it engulfs my 
head, my face and goes down to cover my neck.  I line up the mouth and nose openings and 
then Reg is feeling my head, smoothing out the rubber, tucking and adjusting.  Then he 
begins to lace the hood, starting at the bottom and working his way up.  The rubber pulls very 
tight around my throat, over my chin across my nose and over my eyes.  I can still open my 
eyes, but they are absolutely sightless.  Not a spec of light can get in.  I, like my cousin, am 
now totally blind.  As the lacing stops, I hear a little click.  "There man, you're locked in 
place. Now I'll get Roger in his."  In a minute another click.  "There, now we're all blind 
dudes.", Reg says.  "But what about you - you're not wearing a hood", Roger says.  "Don't 
exactly need one you know", Reg replies.  "Yeah but why do you want to be odd man out 
again.  Does your Dad have another hood?"  "Sure, there's 2 or 3 more up there." "Hey, put 
one on man", I also encourage, "that'll be great to have all of us in rubber hoods."  "OK, I'm 
convinced.  I'll go find another one."  Reg's footsteps move off into the distance.  Roger and I 
put our hands out and feel for each other.  "Fuck, its tight, isn't it?", I ask.  "Damn right it is - it 
feels really great though", Roger answers.  We rub our hand over the smoothness of our 
buddies hood.  "Yeah, I could really get into this", I say.  Then Reg is back, "Here Don, find 
the laces and pull it tight."  I oblige, then I find the lock and click it in place.  "Now how about 
a game of blind man's bluff? Don you're it.  You have to find one of us and service our boots 
and whatever else we want.  Use you ears, dudes."  I stand very still and I think I hear 
breathing near by so I start moving slowly groping through the blackness.  After bumping into 
the coach, a table and a footstool, I decide to get down on all fours.  After all I am looking for 
boots.  As I crawl on hands and knees, my efforts are rewarded.  My hand rests on a rubber 
covered toe.  Immediately I begin to lick the top of the boot.  The wearer of the boot lifts his 
foot so I can clean the sole.  Then I begin my assent up the long hot rubber shaft covering 
every inch with my tongue, filling my mouth with the hot bitter taste of rubber.  I am horny 
again and feel like I'm full of cum once more.  As I reach the top of the boot I can feel his 
hard prick rubbing against my forehead.  Then he pushes my head back down and I do the 
second boot.  This time when I reach the top, the hard cock is shoved into my mouth and as I 
suck and lick he thrusts and fucks until a fresh load of juice fills my mouth and trickles down 
my throat.  He withdraws and I start searching again.  I don't know who I did but I want the 
other guy.  Within about 2 minutes I connect with another rubberised foot and proceed to lick 
and clean another pair of hot rubber waders and then am rewarded with yet another 
throbbing dick.  This one is thinner and I think it may be Roger's.  I'm not sure though and I 
don't care.  Part of the excitement is not knowing.  When dude number 2 finally cums, I wipe 
my mouth and say "OK guys, I got you both.  Who's next?"  "Roger's turn", I hear Reg say 
and before long he has found me.  He repeats the process of cleaning and sucking and in a 
few short moments I'm filling his mouth.  I sit on the floor and relax.  Soon I hear slurping and 
licking from nearby and then heavy breathing as, I assume, Roger takes Reg's load.  "I'm 
done too, guys", Roger says loudly, so close that I jump in surprise.  "My turn then", Reg 
says and he begins to move around.  I'm rather tired by this time so I don't try very hard to 
avoid him.  He soon has us both licked and sucked and I am so drained that all I want to do 
is sleep.  "Hey, lets get to bed, Reg", I say.  "I have no idea what time it is."  "Oh, I have a 
talking clock by my bed so we can find out upstairs."  "Aren't you going to get us out of the 
hoods", Roger asks, "or are we supposed to sleep in them?"  Reg chuckles a bit, "Well guys, 
you're going to have to sleep in them.  See, I don't have the keys.  Dad does and I don't know 
where he keeps them.  Three blind guys would never find them even if they are in his room.  
So, guys, we're all gonna be hooded till Dad gets home on Sunday night."  "Wow", says 
Roger.  "I guess we won't be watching any TV this weekend."  "No, but we can find lots of 
things to do", Reg says.  I should have been angry but strangely I wasn't "Hey, this is OK" I 
say, "Reg, we're really gonna find out what its like to be blind."  I was secretly glad that I 
wasn't going to emerge from this tight rubber contraption for 48 hours.  I was beginning to 
sweat in it, and was so aware of it pressing against my face.  I could easily start liking this.  
"Come on guys, we'll share my bed", Reg says and we grope our way slowly up the stairs 
and curl up in each others arms.  "The time is 1:45 AM" the clock says as we drift off to 
sleep.


25


2