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CET","thumbnail_url_huge":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/huge/4840/4840633_SparkleSpanks_ldr-even-more-requests-vorelorn-small.jpg","thumbnail_url_large":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/large/4840/4840633_SparkleSpanks_ldr-even-more-requests-vorelorn-small.jpg","thumbnail_url_medium":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/medium/4840/4840633_SparkleSpanks_ldr-even-more-requests-vorelorn-small.jpg","thumb_huge_x":"300","thumb_huge_y":"300","thumb_large_x":"200","thumb_large_y":"200","thumb_medium_x":"120","thumb_medium_y":"120","thumbnail_url_huge_noncustom":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/files/preview/4840/4840633_SparkleSpanks_ldr-even-more-requests-vorelorn-small.jpg","thumbnail_url_large_noncustom":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/large/4840/4840633_SparkleSpanks_ldr-even-more-requests-vorelorn-small_noncustom.jpg","thumbnail_url_medium_noncustom":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/medium/4840/4840633_SparkleSpanks_ldr-even-more-requests-vorelorn-small_noncustom.jpg","thumb_medium_noncustom_x":"120","thumb_medium_noncustom_y":"120","thumb_large_noncustom_x":"200","thumb_large_noncustom_y":"200","thumb_huge_noncustom_x":"300","thumb_huge_noncustom_y":"300"}],"pools":[],"description":"","description_bbcode_parsed":"","writing":"Derek Raglan was having a really prime day. The exchange chick from Italy had given him the eye, the trig test he forgot about got biffed to the following week and, most importantly, it was official: his dick was the biggest on his team. So what if six-and-a-half inches weren't porn star material? He still had the longest length and the widest girth on a squad full of boasters and bulldogs, a prize no one in the locker room had been able to match. Half a dozen guys had measured him just to be sure and lots more braggarts had stripped down beside him, hoping to shut him up. None could. By the time he'd finally zipped up the results were in and his cock was definitely king.\n\nDamn, life was sweet.\n\nAfter practice he did the jock thing for a bit and hung around the bleachers, flirting with the girls who'd waited around. Twenty minutes in, Keefe Chapman came up to him and tapped his shoulder to get his attention.\n\n\"Hey, uh, Raglan? We talk for a sec?\"\n\nBored with the two Ashleys fawning over him, Derek jerked his head toward the parking lot and followed him out. He knew Chapman was a track and fielder and that they shared a class or two but that was about it. They probably never exchanged more than six words to each other every week so he honestly couldn't imagine what the guy had to say and in private no less. As the grass came to an end, Derek sat on the closest hood and nodded.\n\n\"What's up, Chapman?\"\n\nKeefe stuffed his hands deeper into his jeans and scanned the cars around them. \"I heard you got a private cam set up at home. 's it true?\" Not once did the boy look him in the eye and Derek watched him with growing amusement.\n\nHe leaned back on his elbows and said nothing for awhile, letting the bulge in his crotch speak volumes. He had one in his room all right, a Logitech QuickCam Fusion that cost him nearly a hundred bills when he first bought it plus a week of grunting and cursing just setting it up with all the hubs and memory upgrades. Not that it hadn't been worth it. Within a month, his subscribers had paid him back six times over and his website was chock full of compliments about his tight teenage bod. He'd only told two of the guys at school about it but word obviously got around from there. He soaked up Chapman's unease for a few more seconds then sat up with a dimpled grin.\n\n\"Yeah, I got one. Why?\"\n\nKeefe cleared his throat as he finally made eye contact.\n\n\"You, uh, looking for any models?\"\n\nFor a full minute, Derek was unable to reply. Then he burst out laughing. When he'd calmed down, he saw the guy wasn't kidding.\n\n\"You for-serious?\"\n\nKeefe glared at him, offended. \"Yeah. And? What's so funny about it?\"\n\nDerek held up his hands. \"Nothing, man. Nothing.\" He swallowed a second urge to laugh then eyed the teenager in front of him. \"Why choose me? You got a PC at home, don't you? Just hook yourself up and get your own site going.\"\n\nKeefe shook his head, scowling fiercely. \"Can't. My dad's in IT. He's like a fucking genius or something. I can't get anything past him.\"\n\nDerek slid down and plucked a blade of grass to chew. He sure didn't have that problem at home. Even before Damian Raglan got fed-up with family life and followed his dick to Amsterdam, the man was a first class technotard, a real twat when it came to electronics. As for his mom, well, she just didn't pay attention to shit like she used to. She'd be a problem if she ever got her head out of the sand from getting dumped by her husband but, for now, something about his dad leaving had messed up her confidence. She rarely asked awkward questions about what he did alone in his room all the time and when she actually did pluck up the nerve, all Derek had to do was accuse her of nagging him and trying to drive him away and she'd back off. Who said kids didn't benefit from a broken home?\n\nHe quirked his eyebrows at Chapman and feigned an air of boredom. \"Sucks to be you but you still haven't answered my question. Why me?\"\n\nKeefe didn't want to answer this. He set his jaw while his eyes roamed the parking lot until Derek shrugged and started to move off.\n\n\"Whatever, dude.\"\n\nBefore he could take a step, Chapman pulled him back roughly then let go.\n\n\"Wait.\" A frustrated sigh followed as the teen shoved his fists back into his pockets. \"Look, man, I got girl...issues...that I need to fix —\"\n\n\"Who's the girl?\"\n\nChapman shot him a murderous look. \"You don't know her.\"\n\nDerek smirked. Touchy subject obviously. \"Maybe I do if she's one of my clients.\"\n\n\"I never said she was one of your clients!\"\n\nSpitting out the grass between his teeth, Derek rolled his eyes. \"Chapman, wake up. If she's not a subscriber, why're you so boned up about showing off your dick on my site?\"\n\nSince he couldn't refute this logic, Keefe did the only thing he could to save face. He folded his arms across his chest and switched subjects.\n\n\"You gonna let me on your site or not?\"\n\nDerek studied him and considered. Chapman wasn't in the bunch who'd tried to out-size him earlier but that didn't matter. Thanks to the open shower system, he already knew what the boy had to offer and even though the guy had a decent set, he wasn't very meaty – either down there and anywhere else. He wouldn't be competition in any department except maybe looks and even that was iffy. Still, Derek Raglan wasn't running a charity outfit. He nodded at Keefe.\n\n\"Cost you.\"\n\nChapman didn't look pleased at this announcement but curiosity got the better of him. \"How much?\"\n\n\"150.\"\n\n\"150? You fucking crazy? What the hell do I get for it?\"\n\nDerek didn't need the money but he also didn't have any \"girlfriend issues\" that needed fixing. He shrugged and stood his ground. \"You get it for one night, long as you want. Take it or leave it, dude. You want in? Get your shit and be at my house in an hour.\"\n\nHe didn't give the teenager his address and he didn't wait for the boy to reply. Whoever this chick was that Chapman was mooning over, he wanted to impress her bad and Derek had no doubt he'd find a way to get it and be on his doorstep in exactly sixty minutes ready with the cash.\n\nSucker.\n\nOn the drive home, Derek let his right hand stray in his lap and turned his thoughts to something of real interest like that new girl, Lucia Carillo. Unlike half the anorexics at school, she had curves in all the right places and with a strut to match too, not to mention the most luxurious mane of chocolate-coloured hair he'd ever seen. He didn't need to touch it to know how silky it was but he still wanted to stroke it anyway, feel it draped over his naked chest while Lucia's mouth got busy down south. Just the thought of it made his stick grow hard and he shifted his right hand back to the wheel so he could concentrate on driving.\n\nHe'd have to remember to trim his pubes a little more when he got home. Most of his clients seemed to like that clean-shaven look which meant Lucia probably would too. That smile she'd given him when he'd slipped her his IP address....well, no chick ever looked like that unless she was planning to check him out. Derek didn't have to be an expert on women to know that much.\n\nAs he pulled up to the house, his mood slipped. At least three hours too soon for a Thursday was his mom's black Honda in the driveway and he scowled, irritated that, yet again, she'd managed to piss him off when he was feeling good simply by being nearby. He didn't understand it but, after a moment, he decided: fuck it. What the hell did it really matter if she was home early? He'd long since stopped telling her about his life and, for the most part, she'd given up prying for details.\n\nInside the front door, Derek tossed his keys in the console dish then headed for the kitchen. As he spied her purse by the closet and old habits kicked in, he realized the gods loved him after all and dug out her wallet to help himself. There wasn't much so he searched the hidden compartments for those \"emergency funds\" she claimed no mother should be without, wondering if she was getting wise to these \"fishing expeditions\" of his. Finding nothing, he dumped the purse impatiently. It figures she'd make him work for it.\n\n\"Mom?\"\n\nAs he continued down the hall, he poked his head in all the rooms he passed and listened for an answer.\n\n\"Mom! Mom, where are you?\"\n\nWhen silence continued to greet him, he grumbled and gave up the search in favour of something to munch on from the fridge but here, too, he came up empty and slammed the door in disgust. He didn't even bother to check the freezer or the cupboards. Nine times out of ten the only things he found were the commercial cakes and cookies his mom preferred now that Dad had left them and – tasty or not – Derek had no intention of piling on the weight by cramming his gut full of that junk. One fatso in the family was enough thank you. The girls in his school wouldn't look at him twice if he got porky like his mom and he'd lose his customers to boot. He didn't need any more incentive than that.\n\nSwiping the last banana from the fruit bowl, he bounded up the stairs to his room and tossed it on his desk while he toed off his shoes. The moment he kicked them off, he powered the computer and uncovered the camera. It was the same ritual he followed every day but as he yanked his shirt over his head, he realized something was off. Frowning, he turned back toward the hallway and scanned his surroundings slowly, searching for whatever it was that was out of place. As he focused on the doorframe, his lips parted and his blue eyes widened.\n\n\"What the-?\"\n\nWith tentative steps, he approached the opening then stood staring at it agog. After a minute, he reached out and ran a disbelieving hand along the wood frame.\n\nWhat happened to the hinges?\n\nAnd where the FUCK was his fucking door?!?\n\nOutraged at the destruction of his privacy, Derek balled his shirt and whipped it across the room.\n\n\"MOM!\" His voice almost cracked in his rage but the teen didn't hear it as he took off running. \"MOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!\"\n\nLike the pro receiver he one day hoped to be, Derek charged throughout the house and bellowed for his mother, his fury mounting with every passing second. She was the only other person he lived with and therefore the only one that could be responsible for the desecration to his room. He sure as hell didn't do it to himself.\n\nBy the time Derek had reached her office at the rear of the house, he was beyond fuming. He'd searched every other blasted room in their three-story home and heard nothing, not one even a sly creak in the floor to give him a hint where she'd hidden. By process of elimination, this was the only freakin' place left that she could be unless his yelling had frightened her off and she'd gone waddling next door to a neighbour. He didn't even want to think about that. He wanted answers from her right now but, more than that, he wanted his damn door back. He barged into her office and kicked the door when it threatened to swing back on him, mindless of the fact that he wasn't supposed to enter her office without invitation.\n\n\"MOM!\"\n\nAs Derek expected, Grace Raglan was there, all two hundred and twenty pounds of her bulk perched on the edge of an oversized mahogany desk.\n\nShe did not look happy.\n\nShe was leafing through several colour photographs and her face was deeply flushed, her hands trembling noticeably as she went through the pile. Her back was unnaturally straight, the expression on her face one of forced placidity but none of these danger signals registered to her son as he stomped over to her, yanked the pictures out of her hands and tossed them over his shoulder.\n\n\"WHERE'S MY FUCKING DOOR, MOM?!\"\n\nThis wasn't the way to go. Growing up, being cheeky and cussing were verboten, offences guaranteed to get both his face and his butt slapped hard. It wasn't something he'd tested since his dad had taken off but as sudden pain exploded on the left side of his jaw, Derek quickly realized the rules hadn't changed in that respect at all. He put his hand to his burning cheek and gaped at his mother, stunned at the sudden aggressiveness.\n\nWhere the hell did his pushover parent disappear to?\n\nBefore he could wonder about it, Grace gave him an order.\n\n\"Pick up those pictures.\"\n\nFrom the way she spoke, Derek saw very clearly that his pre-divorce mother was back in full force but he categorically refused to hold his tongue. After a year and a half of doing what he wanted and reaping the benefits of her insecurities, he had no intention of cowering under her wrath like he used to as a little kid. She was highly pissed off at him about something but so was he goddammit and his stuff at sixteen was way more important than hers, he was sure of it. Her stupid photographs could wait. He folded his arms across this chest and gave her a bullish look.\n\n\"Screw you, Mom, I want my door. I got someone coming over and we don't need you spying on us. Where'd you —\"\n\nA lightning slap to the other cheek cut him off, stinging way worse than the first.\n\n\"Pick up those pictures this instant if you know what's good for you.\"\n\nBetween the way his mom was huffing and the clipped delivery of her words, Derek knew he'd better start treading carefully but stubborn conceit wouldn't let him yield. Not yet.\n\n\"Pick 'em up yourself! Do I look like your freakin' slave —\"\n\nCRACK!\n\n\"RIGHT NOW!\"\n\nAs she'd screamed this last order at him and popped him for the third time, Grace stood up and, in so doing, got her wish. She had four inches on her son that he'd surpass by senior year but for now they both knew he couldn't match her height. Combined with the fact that she outweighed him by eighty-plus pounds, Derek really didn't have a choice but to obey her and he wisely cut the tantrum. Hurriedly, he scooped up the pictures that were so all-fired important to her and thrust them at her chest, not looking nor caring at whatever it was they captured.\n\nGrace, however, did care. As soon as she took them, she handed the top one back to him.\n\n\"Take a look at this, Mister Hefner.\"\n\nDerek looked...and sucked in a breath. It was a picture of him. A naked one that left less than zero to the imagination and got his dick stirring just glancing at it. He couldn't believe his own mother had such a thing in her possession and had been checking it out for who knew how many hours.\n\n\"Do you know where I got this? And this? And this?\" Grace demanded.\n\nDerek didn't reply. The more pictures she thrust at him, the hotter his face felt. Someone had obviously recorded a nice, long stream from his site then printed the most lurid poses they could find 'cause there wasn't a single one that wasn't indecent. As she handed him a close-up of a cum shot with his birthmark captured right alongside it, Derek swore under his breath then returned it to her with a grimace.\n\nIt was clear he didn't want to see any more but Grace was just getting started. She shoved them back under his nose, one at a time, as she furiously answered her own question.\n\n\"I got them at the office, mister, on my desk, propped right in front of my monitor in a nice brown envelope. I have no idea who but someone left them there for me to see. Can you even imagine what I've been feeling since I opened it?\"\n\nWhen he didn't answer, she slapped the pictures down on the desk behind her then reached over and tilted his chin, forcing him to make visual contact.\n\n\"What do I do for a living?\"\n\nAs his shame turned to annoyance, Derek rolled his eyes and huffed. He knew where this was going. He must've heard this lecture at least two thousand times growing up and always when he'd just done something to embarrass her skills as a parent.\n\n\"You're a social worker, Mom.\"\n\n\"For whom?\"\n\nOh for god's sake.\n\n\"The government.\"\n\n\"And what's my specialty?\" she insisted. \"What kind of social worker am I?\"\n\n\"What? You don't remember?\" he baited.\n\nGrace was not amused. \"Answer me!\"\n\n\"Fine,\" Derek blurted angrily. \"You're a family fucking specialist, Mom! Happy now?\"\n\nHe suspected he'd get another smack for that and he did but he wasn't expecting it square across the center his ass and that's precisely where it landed. It burned more than he cared to admit but he refused to rub the spot. Instead, he boiled silently and childishly wished her dead while she continued to lecture him.\n\n\"Exactly. I'm a FAMILY social worker, young man. I help children cope with physical and sexual abuse and the salary I make keeps food on the table, clothes on your back and money in your wallet.\"\n\nDerek was sorely tempted to remind her that half the so-called \"food\" she provided was fattening and the cash she \"gave\" him mostly came from her ex but he refrained. Goading her wasn't worth another slap like the last one.\n\n\"— worked hard to get and now I have to find another job because of you.\"\n\nHe'd been tuning her out but this caught his attention. What the hell did she mean? Did she get fired over a few lousy pics of his pecker? He looked at her warily and sneered.\n\n\"What're you saying?\"\n\nGrace was thunderstruck at her son's ignorance and blinked several times as she shook her head.\n\n\"What am I saying?!?\" she repeated finally. \"I'm saying I'll have to resign —\"\n\n\"You're quitting? Why? What's the big deal?\"\n\n\"What's the big deal? What's the big deal? Derek, a government supervisor with my responsibilities can't condone a child —\"\n\n\"I'M NOT A CHILD!\"\n\n\"— parading his penis on the internet! What were you thinking?!\"\n\nAt that precise moment Derek wasn't thinking anything that was fit to print. As far as he was concerned, his mother had no right to badger him about what he did within the confines of his own bedroom and he didn't give a rat's ass any more that naked pics of him were floating around. He wasn't especially keen on her seeing them but then nobody forced her to look. It was 2006 for fuck's sakes and nudity was friggin' everywhere. He didn't need her shitting on him for something he figured was pretty harmless in the grand scheme of things.\n\n\"Quit freaking out on me, Mom! It's just a bunch of stupid pictures!\"\n\nHe reached past her and snatched up a handful but Grace read his intentions and plucked them away before he could whip them across the room in disgust.\n\n\"It's not just pictures, Derek! It's pornography! Do you understand me? It's CHILD pornography and it's illegal!\" she put the pictures down and cupped his face gently in her hands. \"Forget my job for a minute. Don't you realize I could lose you for this?\"\n\nHer eyes were filling up but Derek wouldn't let himself be touched by it.\n\n\"So what? I'll just go live with Dad! At least HE won't hit me or take off with my fucking door!\"\n\nIt was a low blow and he knew it but he didn't have time to regret it. As soon as the last word was out of his mouth, Grace's expression hardened and she let go his face to take a very firm grip on his upper arm. Two stout smacks to his backside followed.\n\n\"Shit, Mom! What're you doing? Let go!\"\n\nGrace had no such plans and she promptly told him so.\n\n\"Oh no. You're not going anywhere, young man. You're staying right here with me and you're going to start watching your step. I didn't buy you a computer so you could expose your privates to the world for ten dollars a visit —\"\n\n\"Well at least I HAVE a body I can flaunt!\"\n\nHe smirked as she winced and ignored the urgent pricklings of his conscience.\n\n\"I had a blast showing off my dick and I'll do it again the second your back is turned now WHERE'S...MY FUCKING...DOOR?\"\n\nIf he was expecting his mom to slink off and go eat a powdered doughnut to soothe her damaged ego Derek Raglan couldn't have been more wrong. He found himself hauled out her office and tugged unceremoniously down the hall towards the stairs.\n\n\"Let go of me, Mom!\" he twisted his arm and dragged his feet but nothing he tried slowed them down. \"I said, let go!\"\n\nAs she climbed the steps to the second floor and yanked him along, Grace harbored no further doubts about the wisdom of her plan. God knows when but her son had turned into a cocky, selfish little devil and though she was angry with herself for failing to notice she was far more angry with Derek for getting so out-of-control. He was raised better than this. She knew it and so did he.\n\n\"You want to act like a brat? You think disgracing yourself and ruining my career is fun? Fine then. I think you're really going to enjoy what's coming next.\"\n\nDerek didn't like the sound of that and broke out in a sweat. \"Where're we going?\" When she wouldn't answer him, he really dug in his heels. \"Get off me! I'm not going anywhere with you! I want my door!\"\n\nHis mother smacked his rear end good and hard to get him moving again then pulled him by the hand like the contrary child he was.\n\n\"Too bad, little man. You're not getting it back until I can trust you to keep your pants up behind it!\"\n\n\"You can't do that, Mom!\" he protested. \"I'm sixteen! I need my privacy!\"\n\n\"Privacy is a privilege and you've proven you don't deserve it.\"\n\nDerek was livid. She couldn't do this to him!\n\n\"It's not a privilege, goddammit! It's a right! It's MY right!\" he yelled.\n\n\"Not in this house and not any more,\" Grace drove him into the bathroom and fished around in the top right-hand drawer. \"The only right you have is the right to keep quiet or let go when I put you over my knee.\"\n\n\"What-?\"\n\nAs these last words were spoken, she picked up and brandished a large, flat-backed hairbrush, a relic from Grando's antique shop. If Derek's eyes could have popped out of their sockets, they would have and he gulped hard, trying to back up. A thing that wicked looking could only have one use the way his Mom was holding it and he was far too old for that.\n\n\"Mom?\" his pleading gaze shifted nervously from her face back to the brush. \"Mom? You're kidding right? You're not really gonna —\"\n\nGrace nodded and deliberately beamed down at him. \"Isn't this fun?\"\n\n\"NO! NO, MOM! I SAID NO!\"\n\nAs she led the way to his room, his hand still hopelessly trapped in hers, Derek's timidity vanished. He wasn't going to stand still for this. She hadn't spanked his butt since he was eleven and she sure as hell wasn't going to do it now at sixteen. Was she crazy?\n\nHe grabbed at the doorjamb but couldn't get a proper grip on it and followed Grace into his bedroom, stumbling after her. With the bed itself less than eight feet away, he panicked and let his weight drop to the floor, forcing her to drag him.\n\n\"I'M NOT A LITTLE KID, MOM! YOU CAN'T DO THIS! IT'S AGAINST THE LAW!!\n\n\"Oh yes I can and no it's not. What you did was against the law and I'm going to punish you for it.\"\n\nDespite the annoyance of having to lift and haul him the remaining distance to the mattress, Grace almost smiled. He was still her little boy all right. His actions right now were proving it and as she reached the bed and dumped him over her lap, an image flashed in her mind of the last time they'd been in this position. Apparently, Derek remembered too because he struggled to right himself before things got painful.\n\n\"Ground me then!\" He meant to sound forceful but the crack in his voice betrayed him. Grace heard it and tucked him tighter in place, confident that her actions truly were right on the mark.\n\n\"Oh no. Not this time. You want to flash for strangers? Fine. You can show them all your bright red behind when I'm through with you.\"\n\nDerek stopped trying to push himself off her lap and clapped both hands behind him, covering his butt. It was the desperate move of a child in trouble and as he did it, he flushed, knowing only too well that he was probably in for it regardless.\n\n\"I'M TOO OLD FOR THIS! I HATE YOU!\"\n\n\"You're not eighteen yet,\" his mom argued. \"You're sixteen years old, you're still underage, and it's my job to make sure you behave yourself. I won't have my son whoring himself out in cyberspace.\" She gave him a hot, warning swat with the brush. \"You do it again after today and I'll spank your bottom until there isn't a single part of you you'll want captured on film. Do you understand me?\"\n\nIn Derek's mind, answering in the affirmative meant one thing only and so he clamped his lips together and fought her as she persisted in moving his hands. He had no intention of ever saying \"yes\", not if it gave her the idea that spanking threats would work with him from now on.\n\nGrace expected an answer though and delivered another sharp swat as she repeated her question.\n\n\"Do you understand me, little boy?\"\n\nTwisting hard, Derek glared at her over his shoulder with the blackest look he could muster.\n\n\"NO! I DON'T GIVE A FUCK! I HATE YOU!\"\n\nHis mother returned his gaze evenly. \"Well you will...and I don't hate you back if that's what you're waiting for.\"\n\nWith that, she got started.\n\nDerek absolutely did not care...or at least that's what he swore to himself as the first forbidding smacks of the brush started to sink in. By the tenth swat, he began to waiver and by the twentieth, he'd changed his mind completely. He did care.\n\nHe cared one helluva lot.\n\n\"OW! OW!! MOM! OK, MOM I UNDERSTAND YOU! OW! MOMMMM! I SAID I UNDERSTAND YOU! STOP!\n\nWhen she wouldn't, he wrenched a hand free so he could go back to protecting his behind.\n\n\"THIS IS ABUSE, MOM! OW! YOU CAN'T DO THIS!\"\n\nGrace snagged his meddlesome hand. \"Don't tell me what abuse is! Don't you dare try and tell me my job! I'm your mother and right now this IS my job!\"\n\nShe laid it on to emphasize her point, paddling the wriggling bottom across her lap with a vigour that belied her size. She may have been fat but she wasn't lazy and when she was determined to spank a very deserving boy, that's precisely what she did.\n\n\"OW! OW! OWWWWW! STOP IT, MOM! I HATE YOU! I FUCKING HATE YOU! FUCK!\"\n\nGrace made no comment this time. She smacked his behind steadily and listened to him swearing, mentally tallying the extra spanks he was earning with each curse that left his filthy mouth. Never before had she imagined either one of them in such a predicament at this juncture in their lives but that didn't mean she was going to shirk her duty as a parent. She'd obviously been lax with him for far too long and things were going to change. She meant what she'd said before. A sixteen-year-old was still a child and a teenager who did what Derek had done was definitely not too old to get a spanking.\n\nImprisoned across her lap, Derek heartily disagreed. He kicked as hard as he could with his legs trapped between his mom's and shouted at length about his age and where he stood socially, determined to make her see reason. Amidst the profanity – whenever he remembered – he inserted words like unacceptable and inappropriate, terms that he was sure someone in her profession was bound to appreciate. None had the desired effect. No matter how vehemently he argued, the seat of his Dockers continued to heat up and finally, the teen stopped swearing and told his mother what she apparently wanted to hear.\n\n\"OK, MOM, OK! I'M SORRY! I TAKE IT BACK! I TAKE IT BACK, MOM! I LOVE YOU!\"\n\nAs the last word exited his mouth, the doorbell rang. Immediately, Derek let his head drop and muttered a prayer, relieved that things had ground to a halt before he'd disgraced himself by crying. Mom's dadblasted brush almost got him going but he'd held back somehow and now it was over.\n\nThank god for Keefe Chapman.\n\nHe pushed against the mattress to stand up and Grace allowed it since she wasn't the type to leave a body waiting in limbo outside her house. One of them had to answer it and she was the obvious choice given the way her son was hopping around. Without a word, she left the room and descended the stairs, the hairbrush still clutched in her right hand.\n\nAs he bounced on the balls of his toes and massaged his behind hurriedly, wondering just how in the hell he was going to act normal when his butt felt so charred, Derek noted its absence with an enormous sense of relief.\n\nHe never wanted to see it again.\n\nWith a quick shake of the head to get himself together, he winced and gave his cheeks one last rub then headed for the stairs, steeling himself for the mask he would have to wear in front of Chapman. Halfway down, he heard Keefe's voice with his mother's and stopped, sickened by the implication of their conversation.\n\n\"— see you tomorrow I'm afraid.\"\n\n\"Uh, ok, Mrs. Raglan. Tell Derek...I guess...just tell him Chapman came by.\"\n\nOh shit.\n\nMoving as quickly and quietly as his throbbing backside would allow, the teen turned around and climbed back upstairs, foolishly heading for the sanctuary of his open bedroom. As soon as he reached it he remembered the missing door and spun around, determined to find somewhere he could hide with the protection of a lock.\n\nToo late. As he spun on his heel and prepared to take off, he came face to face with his mother.\n\nShe did not look happy.\n\nThe moment this fact registered anew, Derek began to beg. He didn't feel like a swaggering teen jock any more and he hoped his mother could sense the difference.\n\n\"No, Mom, please? Please! I'll take it down! I'll take down the whole site, I swear!\"\n\nGrace met her son's panicked gaze with single-minded resolution and walked past him to the bed.\n\n\"Yes you will but after this is over. We're not finished yet, young man. Come here.\"\n\n\"Please, Mom!\"\n\nInwardly Grace was tempted to relent but on the surface she knew she had to remain firm. Derek had yet to pay for all the cursing he'd done at her and, if there was one thing she abhorred, it was parents who let their children disrespect them especially with four-letter words.\n\nShe'd rather give him up to his narcissistic father than become one of those incompetents.\n\n\"Little boy, if you make me get off this bed and come get you, you'll really hate me then. You have another spanking coming and you're going to get it if I have to chase you clear down to the highway! Now get over here, I said!\"\n\n\"C'mon, Mom! It's not fair! Why're you doing this?\"\n\nGrace was incredulous at his whining. \"Why? Because you swore at me and treated me with contempt and I won't stand for it. Not from those kids I work with every day and certainly not from my own son.\" She crooked a finger and pointed firmly at the space in front of her. \"Get your bottom over here, Derek. Right now.\"\n\nFurious at the thought of getting paddled for something half his school probably did all the time, the teen opened his mouth to protest. A second later he shut it. He already knew how she felt about swearing and, even if he didn't, his mom wasn't going to listen to him from the look she had on her face. She might have listened a week ago but she wasn't the same woman now and, Lord knows, he'd seen that expression enough times as a kid to know she meant business.\n\nHe glanced out into the hallway and considered making a run for it but gave that up as impractical. Even if he outpaced her – and he wasn't sure he could from the way his backside was aching – he'd have to come home eventually.\n\nHe set his jaw and dragged his feet toward her, not at all sure he could sustain more whacks without breaking down. Hand spanking or not, it was still going to hurt and Derek scrambled for some kind of apology he could make that would cool her temper even a notch or two.\n\nStupidly, he blew it.\n\nAs he got within range and his mom reached for the zipper on his Dockers to strip him down, he boxed her hands away and destroyed his chances.\n\n\"What the fuck're you doing?!?\"\n\nIt was the wrong thing to say when he was about to get dinged for disrespect and Grace stood up quickly to swat him for it before pulling him back into place.\n\n\"Cut the act and get over here! You've been flashing me every day since you were a baby and you've been doing it in public now for months! Don't you dare try and tell me that you're shy!\"\n\nDerek wasn't – at least not usually – but the circumstances here were entirely different and he couldn't cope with the idea of having to drop trow – for punishment of all things – at the ripe age of sixteen.\n\n\"It's not the same! Those were strangers, Mom! You're my mother and —\"\n\n\"Exactly!\" Grace snapped. She took a breath to calm down. \"I'm your mother and I've seen you naked many times over. Now stop stalling and move your hands.\" As she slapped his fingers out of the way and undid the top button, she glanced up and pinned him with a look. \"This is happening entirely because of you, I want you to know. You have yet to prove to me that you've learned your lesson.\"\n\nDerek saw his chance and leapt at it.\n\n\"You're wrong, Mom! I have! I've totally learned my lesson and I get it! You can stop now!\"\n\nIt didn't work.\n\nA tug of war ensued as he fought to rebutton his pants while keeping his zipper intact but Grace was more persistent than he and ripped it open. The instant it came down, his Dockers and briefs followed suit and, for the first time since this whole mess began, Derek felt exactly like the naughty little boy his mother kept insisting he was. More that that, he sounded like it.\n\n\"Mo-om! I'll behave, Mom! Please! I'm sorry!\"\n\nHe bent to drag his clothes back up but Grace took advantage of his position to pull him over her lap and trap his legs once again between her own.\n\n\"That may be but I told you your punishment's not finished and I meant what I said. You're getting the rest of it on your bare backside whether you want it or not so stop covering yourself and lay still.\" She tapped his bottom and got it twitching then raised her right hand high. \"You should just count yourself lucky this spanking isn't being broadcast.\"\n\nSHIT! The webcam! It was set to auto-start!\n\n\"MOM! WAIT! THE CAMERA!\" he wailed. \"IT'S ON, MOM! IT'S ON!\"\n\n\"Oh really? Well good! Let everybody see that I did NOT give my son permission to sell himself to the world!\"\n\nWithout further ado, she brought her hand down firmly and repeatedly, determined to teach Derek a lesson not only about using foul language but also about lying to dodge responsibility.\n\n\"PLEASE, MOMMY! PLEEEEASE! TURN IT OFF! TURN IT OFF!\"\n\nGrace refused. As a mother, she was very familiar with the lengths a child will go to halt punishment and spouting a whopper in the middle of a butt-roasting to bring it to a decisive end was hardly surprising. Derek wouldn't give it up though and, as the minutes passed and he continued to beg and call her \"mommy\" — something he hadn't done without sarcasm in many years – she reconsidered. It was very possible that he'd turned the camera on when he first got home from school before he'd gone stampeding throughout the house.\n\nDear god, could it really be active?\n\nAppalled at what might be getting captured while she sat there stubbornly, Grace jerked him upright and rushed to his computer, noting almost immediately that the power LED was indeed bright green. With the camera lens aimed straight at her face, it was a fair assumption that Derek hadn't been lying at all and that dozens (maybe hundreds or thousands) of people were witnessing what was supposed to be a very private moment. Furiously, Grace traced all power cords and wrenched them from their outlets then strode back to the bed.\n\nAs Derek watched her coming, he clutched his bottom tighter and tried to jig his way past her.\n\n\"NO, MOMMY! NO! NO MORE! PLEASE, MOMMY! PLEEEEEASE!\"\n\nHe was sorry – god how he was sorry – but Grace Raglan absolutely did not want to hear it. She sat down on the bed and yanked the high schooler back over her lap.\n\nShe was almost done but Derek didn't know it and with the very first slap, he let go. He'd been controlling himself by sheer force of will up until that point but he wasn't made of stone and he couldn't stand the pain. He didn't care that he sounded like a four-year-old. His voice cracked and hitched as he pled for a ceasefire and bawled out impossible promises to behave.\n\nAfter three minutes, Grace couldn't take it. For Derek to be crying as hard as he was she reasoned he must have learned his lesson and she stood him up before her for a final scolding, holding his hands to force him to concentrate.\n\nIt didn't work.\n\nNever in his worst nightmare had Derek dreamed of being upended over his mother's knees at sixteen and he sobbed brokenly as his mother lectured him. He listened to her words just enough to ensure he answered her questions the way she expected him to and shifted his feet, desperate to rub his bottom.\n\n\"— that understood?\"\n\n\"Ye-esss, M-Mom. I'm s-sorry.\"\n\nDerek had no idea what he'd just agreed to but, if it got his mom to take her hand and her hairbrush straight out of his room, he didn't rightly give a ding dong diddly. He sniffed and nodded in case she wasn't sure of his commitment.\n\nApparently this was what she was waiting for because she stood up and hugged him close, kissing the sweaty top of his head. Unwilling to risk her wrath by pulling away, Derek stiffened and waited her out. He didn't want her touching him in any way, shape, or form after the fire she'd just lit in his ass and he was glad she sensed it enough to let him go after a couple of seconds.\n\nThe moment she was out his room, he brushed all the places she'd stroked, scrubbing angrily at the tears and other wetness he'd shed because of her. It was the height of childishness but Derek didn't see it that way and kept it up until the nagging pain in his globes spoke up. Shuffling over to the hanging mirror inside his closet, he took a look...and turned away.\n\nIt was official.\n\nHe'd never be able to step outside the house again.\n\nHis mom had whacked his butt on camera – not for fun in a kinky sort of way but for real live punishment – and his entire client list probably saw it. He had no way of knowing how many had recorded it and begun uploading it to their own personal websites but Derek was willing to bet the percentage was high. There were at least a dozen girls from his school alone that subscribed. If they got the word out – and they would – the whole school would know by midnight, including god knew how many Europeans once Lucia had spread it around to all her friends in Sicily.\n\nHe wished he'd never bought the damn webcam in the first place. If he hadn't been so greedy and vain, he wouldn't be in this fix at all, wouldn't have to worry about returning to school to jeers and catcalls and crude drawings stuffed in his locker. It hadn't happened yet but he could picture it perfectly and, though it was the absolute last thing he wanted to do, he had to admit it: his mom was probably right. Not right to spank him of course (that, he would never admit) just right about the rest of it.\n\nFor the next few hours, Derek hid out in his room and brooded. When he wasn't lying on his stomach and sulking, he paced the floor and massaged his behind, cursing his mother under his breath for making his situation way worse than it had to be. She hadn't known about the camera being on initially but that didn't mean he blamed her any less. She shouldn't have spanked him at all for starters and, if she absolutely fucking had to, why the hell didn't she just do it in the bathroom when she picked up that stupid brush? Every time he passed his computer, he cringed at the thought of all the comments circulating on his site thanks to what she'd done, all the simpering jokes about what a \"naughty little boy\" he was and how his \"mommy\" had to spank his \"bad widdle bum\" for it.\n\nBy 8 o'clock, Derek couldn't take it. He was starving and willing to swallow the embarrassment of facing his mom long enough to get some supper but, before he ate, he had to see what people were really saying about him. He needed to know.\n\nFirst things first though: he covered the camera.\n\nWith a towel blocking the lens, he ducked under the desk to plug all the cords back in then hovered by the keyboard and dragged on a loose pair of sweats. Naturally, since he was anxious for his PC to boot, it took forever and he checked the state of his butt in the mirror to distract himself, praying that it was finally returning to normal.\n\nIt wasn't.\n\nIf anything, it looked even redder than it had in the beginning and he scowled at the reflection before him. At this rate, Christmas would come and go before he could shower in the locker room without getting teased.\n\nGreat. Fuckin' thanks Mom.\n\nBefore he could start cursing her out again under his breath, the PC finished powering up. He padded over to check out his board and, when he saw the scads of messages that had collected in his absence, he took his pillow and doubled it then eased himself onto the chair. As he read, he forgot the ache in his backside and began to smile.\n\nIt wasn't nearly as bad as he'd feared. Apart from the odd jab at his manliness, most of them were pretty sympathetic – if not downright titillating – and he skimmed the racy ones first with great interest:\n\nHi Derek, I wish I was with u right now. If we were together I could kiss ur pain away and maybe suck ur...\n\nHey Deke, plz turn the cam back on so we can see if ur all right. I think u took it real well and ur cock looked so big when ur mom was giving it to u bare and otk...\n\nOMG. I can't believe your mom spanked you over her knee. My mom does that 2 with my older brother but he doesn't look nearly as sexy as you did and he's almost 18...\n\nD, u must be sooo pissed @ ur moms. If I was u, I'd show my butt so we can all take some pics for u and pass 'em to the cops...\n\nDerek read several posts after that one but time and again he found his eyes straying back to the message from \"SGG88\". He wondered if she (or he) had a point. He didn't want his mom arrested, of course, but that didn't mean he couldn't benefit from her abuse in other ways.\n\nLike maybe cashing in on the red ass she'd given him.\n\nHe checked his counters. According to the tally there were 18 members and 14 visitors still hanging around but more than ten times that many had been tuning in when Mom's brush was flying. He wasn't a math wizard but he didn't need to be for what he was seeing. If he could find a way to suck back in the hundreds of gawkers who'd left, he knew he could make a killing in minutes, one final big-ass windfall before his mom shut him down permanent.\n\nMind spinning with the possibility, Derek got up and padded down the hall. He listened. No sounds filtered back up to him and, as he checked his watch, he figured he had a good two or three hours before his mother poked her head in on her way to bed.\n\nWith the clock ticking, he hurried back to the computer and typed that his cheeks would be online in less than ten but that anyone who wanted a \"private inspection\" would have to pay extra. He knew his clients well enough to know he wouldn't be disappointed.\n\nBy the time ten minutes were up and Derek had changed into something more tempting for the show, the counters had jumped with three dozen subscribers willing to pay for an exclusive. Despite the boost to his ego, Derek didn't waste any more time eyeing the numbers or trying to figure out who to pick first. As soon as he saw that his No. 1 client \"Ronnie\" was floating among them, he pumped his fist victoriously.\n\nThe reason for his choice was simple: \"Ronnie\" wasn't just a good customer. He was actually Trev Thomas, the first string quarterback at his school, a Chippendale centerfold in the making AND a fudgepacker way deep in the closet. Frankly, things couldn't have been better. The only one in town who knew his dirty little secret was Derek and now, after a year of keeping a lid on it, he finally had grounds for blackmail. He knew exactly what he was going to say. If Trev didn't back him up and convince the kids at school the whole spanking disaster was a hoax, Derek would simply spread the word that \"mr. golden boy\" was really just a \"gay boi\" and watch his shame unfold.\n\nWith a saucy grin, Derek stripped the towel off his primary webcam and clicked Trev's profile. \"Ronnie\" was right there waiting and the second Derek recognized his voice, he laid out the deal. He braced himself for the possibility that Trev would deny his accusations and just hang up on him but \"golden boy\" saw an opportunity of his own and seized it. When the negotiations were done, the inquisition began and Derek answered all his questions with minimal prodding: how it felt to get his pants pulled down by his mom, how many smacks he got off-camera, and how sore his butt had been.\n\nAs he gave up the details of his punishment, Derek ran a hand over his washboard stomach and stroked the crotch of his tight-fitting football pants suggestively. He was lightly tracing the waistband when Trev demanded more, and since Derek had just as much face to lose as his teammate, he followed the boy's instructions and turned his back to the desk, inching his pants past his hips and straight to the floor before he bent over.\n\nHe wasn't surprised that the guy wanted to see him naked. He'd caught Trev checking him out enough times on the practice field and in the showers to know what turned him on and he spread his legs in a lineman's stance without waiting for Trev to ask, dropping into a defensive squat. While he ran a finger along his crack, he bullshitted about how painless the hairbrush really was and how he'd squirmed for his mom only to gain her sympathy.\n\nWhen Trev asked to see the brush again, Derek found he didn't have to do a thing. Showing up out of nowhere and landing dangerously close to his right foot, he reached out and picked it up then slowly stood to face the open doorway on rubbery legs.\n\nHis mommy was standing there watching him.\n\nAnd she did not look happy.","writing_bbcode_parsed":"Derek Raglan was having a really prime day. The exchange chick from Italy had given him the eye, the trig test he forgot about got biffed to the following week and, most importantly, it was official: his dick was the biggest on his team. So what if six-and-a-half inches weren't porn star material? He still had the longest length and the widest girth on a squad full of boasters and bulldogs, a prize no one in the locker room had been able to match. Half a dozen guys had measured him just to be sure and lots more braggarts had stripped down beside him, hoping to shut him up. None could. By the time he'd finally zipped up the results were in and his cock was definitely king.
Damn, life was sweet.
After practice he did the jock thing for a bit and hung around the bleachers, flirting with the girls who'd waited around. Twenty minutes in, Keefe Chapman came up to him and tapped his shoulder to get his attention.
"Hey, uh, Raglan? We talk for a sec?"
Bored with the two Ashleys fawning over him, Derek jerked his head toward the parking lot and followed him out. He knew Chapman was a track and fielder and that they shared a class or two but that was about it. They probably never exchanged more than six words to each other every week so he honestly couldn't imagine what the guy had to say and in private no less. As the grass came to an end, Derek sat on the closest hood and nodded.
"What's up, Chapman?"
Keefe stuffed his hands deeper into his jeans and scanned the cars around them. "I heard you got a private cam set up at home. 's it true?" Not once did the boy look him in the eye and Derek watched him with growing amusement.
He leaned back on his elbows and said nothing for awhile, letting the bulge in his crotch speak volumes. He had one in his room all right, a Logitech QuickCam Fusion that cost him nearly a hundred bills when he first bought it plus a week of grunting and cursing just setting it up with all the hubs and memory upgrades. Not that it hadn't been worth it. Within a month, his subscribers had paid him back six times over and his website was chock full of compliments about his tight teenage bod. He'd only told two of the guys at school about it but word obviously got around from there. He soaked up Chapman's unease for a few more seconds then sat up with a dimpled grin.
"Yeah, I got one. Why?"
Keefe cleared his throat as he finally made eye contact.
"You, uh, looking for any models?"
For a full minute, Derek was unable to reply. Then he burst out laughing. When he'd calmed down, he saw the guy wasn't kidding.
"You for-serious?"
Keefe glared at him, offended. "Yeah. And? What's so funny about it?"
Derek held up his hands. "Nothing, man. Nothing." He swallowed a second urge to laugh then eyed the teenager in front of him. "Why choose me? You got a PC at home, don't you? Just hook yourself up and get your own site going."
Keefe shook his head, scowling fiercely. "Can't. My dad's in IT. He's like a fucking genius or something. I can't get anything past him."
Derek slid down and plucked a blade of grass to chew. He sure didn't have that problem at home. Even before Damian Raglan got fed-up with family life and followed his dick to Amsterdam, the man was a first class technotard, a real twat when it came to electronics. As for his mom, well, she just didn't pay attention to shit like she used to. She'd be a problem if she ever got her head out of the sand from getting dumped by her husband but, for now, something about his dad leaving had messed up her confidence. She rarely asked awkward questions about what he did alone in his room all the time and when she actually did pluck up the nerve, all Derek had to do was accuse her of nagging him and trying to drive him away and she'd back off. Who said kids didn't benefit from a broken home?
He quirked his eyebrows at Chapman and feigned an air of boredom. "Sucks to be you but you still haven't answered my question. Why me?"
Keefe didn't want to answer this. He set his jaw while his eyes roamed the parking lot until Derek shrugged and started to move off.
"Whatever, dude."
Before he could take a step, Chapman pulled him back roughly then let go.
"Wait." A frustrated sigh followed as the teen shoved his fists back into his pockets. "Look, man, I got girl...issues...that I need to fix —"
"Who's the girl?"
Chapman shot him a murderous look. "You don't know her."
Derek smirked. Touchy subject obviously. "Maybe I do if she's one of my clients."
"I never said she was one of your clients!"
Spitting out the grass between his teeth, Derek rolled his eyes. "Chapman, wake up. If she's not a subscriber, why're you so boned up about showing off your dick on my site?"
Since he couldn't refute this logic, Keefe did the only thing he could to save face. He folded his arms across his chest and switched subjects.
"You gonna let me on your site or not?"
Derek studied him and considered. Chapman wasn't in the bunch who'd tried to out-size him earlier but that didn't matter. Thanks to the open shower system, he already knew what the boy had to offer and even though the guy had a decent set, he wasn't very meaty – either down there and anywhere else. He wouldn't be competition in any department except maybe looks and even that was iffy. Still, Derek Raglan wasn't running a charity outfit. He nodded at Keefe.
"Cost you."
Chapman didn't look pleased at this announcement but curiosity got the better of him. "How much?"
"150."
"150? You fucking crazy? What the hell do I get for it?"
Derek didn't need the money but he also didn't have any "girlfriend issues" that needed fixing. He shrugged and stood his ground. "You get it for one night, long as you want. Take it or leave it, dude. You want in? Get your shit and be at my house in an hour."
He didn't give the teenager his address and he didn't wait for the boy to reply. Whoever this chick was that Chapman was mooning over, he wanted to impress her bad and Derek had no doubt he'd find a way to get it and be on his doorstep in exactly sixty minutes ready with the cash.
Sucker.
On the drive home, Derek let his right hand stray in his lap and turned his thoughts to something of real interest like that new girl, Lucia Carillo. Unlike half the anorexics at school, she had curves in all the right places and with a strut to match too, not to mention the most luxurious mane of chocolate-coloured hair he'd ever seen. He didn't need to touch it to know how silky it was but he still wanted to stroke it anyway, feel it draped over his naked chest while Lucia's mouth got busy down south. Just the thought of it made his stick grow hard and he shifted his right hand back to the wheel so he could concentrate on driving.
He'd have to remember to trim his pubes a little more when he got home. Most of his clients seemed to like that clean-shaven look which meant Lucia probably would too. That smile she'd given him when he'd slipped her his IP address....well, no chick ever looked like that unless she was planning to check him out. Derek didn't have to be an expert on women to know that much.
As he pulled up to the house, his mood slipped. At least three hours too soon for a Thursday was his mom's black Honda in the driveway and he scowled, irritated that, yet again, she'd managed to piss him off when he was feeling good simply by being nearby. He didn't understand it but, after a moment, he decided: fuck it. What the hell did it really matter if she was home early? He'd long since stopped telling her about his life and, for the most part, she'd given up prying for details.
Inside the front door, Derek tossed his keys in the console dish then headed for the kitchen. As he spied her purse by the closet and old habits kicked in, he realized the gods loved him after all and dug out her wallet to help himself. There wasn't much so he searched the hidden compartments for those "emergency funds" she claimed no mother should be without, wondering if she was getting wise to these "fishing expeditions" of his. Finding nothing, he dumped the purse impatiently. It figures she'd make him work for it.
"Mom?"
As he continued down the hall, he poked his head in all the rooms he passed and listened for an answer.
"Mom! Mom, where are you?"
When silence continued to greet him, he grumbled and gave up the search in favour of something to munch on from the fridge but here, too, he came up empty and slammed the door in disgust. He didn't even bother to check the freezer or the cupboards. Nine times out of ten the only things he found were the commercial cakes and cookies his mom preferred now that Dad had left them and – tasty or not – Derek had no intention of piling on the weight by cramming his gut full of that junk. One fatso in the family was enough thank you. The girls in his school wouldn't look at him twice if he got porky like his mom and he'd lose his customers to boot. He didn't need any more incentive than that.
Swiping the last banana from the fruit bowl, he bounded up the stairs to his room and tossed it on his desk while he toed off his shoes. The moment he kicked them off, he powered the computer and uncovered the camera. It was the same ritual he followed every day but as he yanked his shirt over his head, he realized something was off. Frowning, he turned back toward the hallway and scanned his surroundings slowly, searching for whatever it was that was out of place. As he focused on the doorframe, his lips parted and his blue eyes widened.
"What the-?"
With tentative steps, he approached the opening then stood staring at it agog. After a minute, he reached out and ran a disbelieving hand along the wood frame.
What happened to the hinges?
And where the FUCK was his fucking door?!?
Outraged at the destruction of his privacy, Derek balled his shirt and whipped it across the room.
"MOM!" His voice almost cracked in his rage but the teen didn't hear it as he took off running. "MOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!"
Like the pro receiver he one day hoped to be, Derek charged throughout the house and bellowed for his mother, his fury mounting with every passing second. She was the only other person he lived with and therefore the only one that could be responsible for the desecration to his room. He sure as hell didn't do it to himself.
By the time Derek had reached her office at the rear of the house, he was beyond fuming. He'd searched every other blasted room in their three-story home and heard nothing, not one even a sly creak in the floor to give him a hint where she'd hidden. By process of elimination, this was the only freakin' place left that she could be unless his yelling had frightened her off and she'd gone waddling next door to a neighbour. He didn't even want to think about that. He wanted answers from her right now but, more than that, he wanted his damn door back. He barged into her office and kicked the door when it threatened to swing back on him, mindless of the fact that he wasn't supposed to enter her office without invitation.
"MOM!"
As Derek expected, Grace Raglan was there, all two hundred and twenty pounds of her bulk perched on the edge of an oversized mahogany desk.
She did not look happy.
She was leafing through several colour photographs and her face was deeply flushed, her hands trembling noticeably as she went through the pile. Her back was unnaturally straight, the expression on her face one of forced placidity but none of these danger signals registered to her son as he stomped over to her, yanked the pictures out of her hands and tossed them over his shoulder.
"WHERE'S MY FUCKING DOOR, MOM?!"
This wasn't the way to go. Growing up, being cheeky and cussing were verboten, offences guaranteed to get both his face and his butt slapped hard. It wasn't something he'd tested since his dad had taken off but as sudden pain exploded on the left side of his jaw, Derek quickly realized the rules hadn't changed in that respect at all. He put his hand to his burning cheek and gaped at his mother, stunned at the sudden aggressiveness.
Where the hell did his pushover parent disappear to?
Before he could wonder about it, Grace gave him an order.
"Pick up those pictures."
From the way she spoke, Derek saw very clearly that his pre-divorce mother was back in full force but he categorically refused to hold his tongue. After a year and a half of doing what he wanted and reaping the benefits of her insecurities, he had no intention of cowering under her wrath like he used to as a little kid. She was highly pissed off at him about something but so was he goddammit and his stuff at sixteen was way more important than hers, he was sure of it. Her stupid photographs could wait. He folded his arms across this chest and gave her a bullish look.
"Screw you, Mom, I want my door. I got someone coming over and we don't need you spying on us. Where'd you —"
A lightning slap to the other cheek cut him off, stinging way worse than the first.
"Pick up those pictures this instant if you know what's good for you."
Between the way his mom was huffing and the clipped delivery of her words, Derek knew he'd better start treading carefully but stubborn conceit wouldn't let him yield. Not yet.
"Pick 'em up yourself! Do I look like your freakin' slave —"
CRACK!
"RIGHT NOW!"
As she'd screamed this last order at him and popped him for the third time, Grace stood up and, in so doing, got her wish. She had four inches on her son that he'd surpass by senior year but for now they both knew he couldn't match her height. Combined with the fact that she outweighed him by eighty-plus pounds, Derek really didn't have a choice but to obey her and he wisely cut the tantrum. Hurriedly, he scooped up the pictures that were so all-fired important to her and thrust them at her chest, not looking nor caring at whatever it was they captured.
Grace, however, did care. As soon as she took them, she handed the top one back to him.
"Take a look at this, Mister Hefner."
Derek looked...and sucked in a breath. It was a picture of him. A naked one that left less than zero to the imagination and got his dick stirring just glancing at it. He couldn't believe his own mother had such a thing in her possession and had been checking it out for who knew how many hours.
"Do you know where I got this? And this? And this?" Grace demanded.
Derek didn't reply. The more pictures she thrust at him, the hotter his face felt. Someone had obviously recorded a nice, long stream from his site then printed the most lurid poses they could find 'cause there wasn't a single one that wasn't indecent. As she handed him a close-up of a cum shot with his birthmark captured right alongside it, Derek swore under his breath then returned it to her with a grimace.
It was clear he didn't want to see any more but Grace was just getting started. She shoved them back under his nose, one at a time, as she furiously answered her own question.
"I got them at the office, mister, on my desk, propped right in front of my monitor in a nice brown envelope. I have no idea who but someone left them there for me to see. Can you even imagine what I've been feeling since I opened it?"
When he didn't answer, she slapped the pictures down on the desk behind her then reached over and tilted his chin, forcing him to make visual contact.
"What do I do for a living?"
As his shame turned to annoyance, Derek rolled his eyes and huffed. He knew where this was going. He must've heard this lecture at least two thousand times growing up and always when he'd just done something to embarrass her skills as a parent.
"You're a social worker, Mom."
"For whom?"
Oh for god's sake.
"The government."
"And what's my specialty?" she insisted. "What kind of social worker am I?"
"What? You don't remember?" he baited.
Grace was not amused. "Answer me!"
"Fine," Derek blurted angrily. "You're a family fucking specialist, Mom! Happy now?"
He suspected he'd get another smack for that and he did but he wasn't expecting it square across the center his ass and that's precisely where it landed. It burned more than he cared to admit but he refused to rub the spot. Instead, he boiled silently and childishly wished her dead while she continued to lecture him.
"Exactly. I'm a FAMILY social worker, young man. I help children cope with physical and sexual abuse and the salary I make keeps food on the table, clothes on your back and money in your wallet."
Derek was sorely tempted to remind her that half the so-called "food" she provided was fattening and the cash she "gave" him mostly came from her ex but he refrained. Goading her wasn't worth another slap like the last one.
"— worked hard to get and now I have to find another job because of you."
He'd been tuning her out but this caught his attention. What the hell did she mean? Did she get fired over a few lousy pics of his pecker? He looked at her warily and sneered.
"What're you saying?"
Grace was thunderstruck at her son's ignorance and blinked several times as she shook her head.
"What am I saying?!?" she repeated finally. "I'm saying I'll have to resign —"
"You're quitting? Why? What's the big deal?"
"What's the big deal? What's the big deal? Derek, a government supervisor with my responsibilities can't condone a child —"
"I'M NOT A CHILD!"
"— parading his penis on the internet! What were you thinking?!"
At that precise moment Derek wasn't thinking anything that was fit to print. As far as he was concerned, his mother had no right to badger him about what he did within the confines of his own bedroom and he didn't give a rat's ass any more that naked pics of him were floating around. He wasn't especially keen on her seeing them but then nobody forced her to look. It was 2006 for fuck's sakes and nudity was friggin' everywhere. He didn't need her shitting on him for something he figured was pretty harmless in the grand scheme of things.
"Quit freaking out on me, Mom! It's just a bunch of stupid pictures!"
He reached past her and snatched up a handful but Grace read his intentions and plucked them away before he could whip them across the room in disgust.
"It's not just pictures, Derek! It's pornography! Do you understand me? It's CHILD pornography and it's illegal!" she put the pictures down and cupped his face gently in her hands. "Forget my job for a minute. Don't you realize I could lose you for this?"
Her eyes were filling up but Derek wouldn't let himself be touched by it.
"So what? I'll just go live with Dad! At least HE won't hit me or take off with my fucking door!"
It was a low blow and he knew it but he didn't have time to regret it. As soon as the last word was out of his mouth, Grace's expression hardened and she let go his face to take a very firm grip on his upper arm. Two stout smacks to his backside followed.
"Shit, Mom! What're you doing? Let go!"
Grace had no such plans and she promptly told him so.
"Oh no. You're not going anywhere, young man. You're staying right here with me and you're going to start watching your step. I didn't buy you a computer so you could expose your privates to the world for ten dollars a visit —"
"Well at least I HAVE a body I can flaunt!"
He smirked as she winced and ignored the urgent pricklings of his conscience.
"I had a blast showing off my dick and I'll do it again the second your back is turned now WHERE'S...MY FUCKING...DOOR?"
If he was expecting his mom to slink off and go eat a powdered doughnut to soothe her damaged ego Derek Raglan couldn't have been more wrong. He found himself hauled out her office and tugged unceremoniously down the hall towards the stairs.
"Let go of me, Mom!" he twisted his arm and dragged his feet but nothing he tried slowed them down. "I said, let go!"
As she climbed the steps to the second floor and yanked him along, Grace harbored no further doubts about the wisdom of her plan. God knows when but her son had turned into a cocky, selfish little devil and though she was angry with herself for failing to notice she was far more angry with Derek for getting so out-of-control. He was raised better than this. She knew it and so did he.
"You want to act like a brat? You think disgracing yourself and ruining my career is fun? Fine then. I think you're really going to enjoy what's coming next."
Derek didn't like the sound of that and broke out in a sweat. "Where're we going?" When she wouldn't answer him, he really dug in his heels. "Get off me! I'm not going anywhere with you! I want my door!"
His mother smacked his rear end good and hard to get him moving again then pulled him by the hand like the contrary child he was.
"Too bad, little man. You're not getting it back until I can trust you to keep your pants up behind it!"
"You can't do that, Mom!" he protested. "I'm sixteen! I need my privacy!"
"Privacy is a privilege and you've proven you don't deserve it."
Derek was livid. She couldn't do this to him!
"It's not a privilege, goddammit! It's a right! It's MY right!" he yelled.
"Not in this house and not any more," Grace drove him into the bathroom and fished around in the top right-hand drawer. "The only right you have is the right to keep quiet or let go when I put you over my knee."
"What-?"
As these last words were spoken, she picked up and brandished a large, flat-backed hairbrush, a relic from Grando's antique shop. If Derek's eyes could have popped out of their sockets, they would have and he gulped hard, trying to back up. A thing that wicked looking could only have one use the way his Mom was holding it and he was far too old for that.
"Mom?" his pleading gaze shifted nervously from her face back to the brush. "Mom? You're kidding right? You're not really gonna —"
Grace nodded and deliberately beamed down at him. "Isn't this fun?"
"NO! NO, MOM! I SAID NO!"
As she led the way to his room, his hand still hopelessly trapped in hers, Derek's timidity vanished. He wasn't going to stand still for this. She hadn't spanked his butt since he was eleven and she sure as hell wasn't going to do it now at sixteen. Was she crazy?
He grabbed at the doorjamb but couldn't get a proper grip on it and followed Grace into his bedroom, stumbling after her. With the bed itself less than eight feet away, he panicked and let his weight drop to the floor, forcing her to drag him.
"I'M NOT A LITTLE KID, MOM! YOU CAN'T DO THIS! IT'S AGAINST THE LAW!!
"Oh yes I can and no it's not. What you did was against the law and I'm going to punish you for it."
Despite the annoyance of having to lift and haul him the remaining distance to the mattress, Grace almost smiled. He was still her little boy all right. His actions right now were proving it and as she reached the bed and dumped him over her lap, an image flashed in her mind of the last time they'd been in this position. Apparently, Derek remembered too because he struggled to right himself before things got painful.
"Ground me then!" He meant to sound forceful but the crack in his voice betrayed him. Grace heard it and tucked him tighter in place, confident that her actions truly were right on the mark.
"Oh no. Not this time. You want to flash for strangers? Fine. You can show them all your bright red behind when I'm through with you."
Derek stopped trying to push himself off her lap and clapped both hands behind him, covering his butt. It was the desperate move of a child in trouble and as he did it, he flushed, knowing only too well that he was probably in for it regardless.
"I'M TOO OLD FOR THIS! I HATE YOU!"
"You're not eighteen yet," his mom argued. "You're sixteen years old, you're still underage, and it's my job to make sure you behave yourself. I won't have my son whoring himself out in cyberspace." She gave him a hot, warning swat with the brush. "You do it again after today and I'll spank your bottom until there isn't a single part of you you'll want captured on film. Do you understand me?"
In Derek's mind, answering in the affirmative meant one thing only and so he clamped his lips together and fought her as she persisted in moving his hands. He had no intention of ever saying "yes", not if it gave her the idea that spanking threats would work with him from now on.
Grace expected an answer though and delivered another sharp swat as she repeated her question.
"Do you understand me, little boy?"
Twisting hard, Derek glared at her over his shoulder with the blackest look he could muster.
"NO! I DON'T GIVE A FUCK! I HATE YOU!"
His mother returned his gaze evenly. "Well you will...and I don't hate you back if that's what you're waiting for."
With that, she got started.
Derek absolutely did not care...or at least that's what he swore to himself as the first forbidding smacks of the brush started to sink in. By the tenth swat, he began to waiver and by the twentieth, he'd changed his mind completely. He did care.
He cared one helluva lot.
"OW! OW!! MOM! OK, MOM I UNDERSTAND YOU! OW! MOMMMM! I SAID I UNDERSTAND YOU! STOP!
When she wouldn't, he wrenched a hand free so he could go back to protecting his behind.
"THIS IS ABUSE, MOM! OW! YOU CAN'T DO THIS!"
Grace snagged his meddlesome hand. "Don't tell me what abuse is! Don't you dare try and tell me my job! I'm your mother and right now this IS my job!"
She laid it on to emphasize her point, paddling the wriggling bottom across her lap with a vigour that belied her size. She may have been fat but she wasn't lazy and when she was determined to spank a very deserving boy, that's precisely what she did.
"OW! OW! OWWWWW! STOP IT, MOM! I HATE YOU! I FUCKING HATE YOU! FUCK!"
Grace made no comment this time. She smacked his behind steadily and listened to him swearing, mentally tallying the extra spanks he was earning with each curse that left his filthy mouth. Never before had she imagined either one of them in such a predicament at this juncture in their lives but that didn't mean she was going to shirk her duty as a parent. She'd obviously been lax with him for far too long and things were going to change. She meant what she'd said before. A sixteen-year-old was still a child and a teenager who did what Derek had done was definitely not too old to get a spanking.
Imprisoned across her lap, Derek heartily disagreed. He kicked as hard as he could with his legs trapped between his mom's and shouted at length about his age and where he stood socially, determined to make her see reason. Amidst the profanity – whenever he remembered – he inserted words like unacceptable and inappropriate, terms that he was sure someone in her profession was bound to appreciate. None had the desired effect. No matter how vehemently he argued, the seat of his Dockers continued to heat up and finally, the teen stopped swearing and told his mother what she apparently wanted to hear.
"OK, MOM, OK! I'M SORRY! I TAKE IT BACK! I TAKE IT BACK, MOM! I LOVE YOU!"
As the last word exited his mouth, the doorbell rang. Immediately, Derek let his head drop and muttered a prayer, relieved that things had ground to a halt before he'd disgraced himself by crying. Mom's dadblasted brush almost got him going but he'd held back somehow and now it was over.
Thank god for Keefe Chapman.
He pushed against the mattress to stand up and Grace allowed it since she wasn't the type to leave a body waiting in limbo outside her house. One of them had to answer it and she was the obvious choice given the way her son was hopping around. Without a word, she left the room and descended the stairs, the hairbrush still clutched in her right hand.
As he bounced on the balls of his toes and massaged his behind hurriedly, wondering just how in the hell he was going to act normal when his butt felt so charred, Derek noted its absence with an enormous sense of relief.
He never wanted to see it again.
With a quick shake of the head to get himself together, he winced and gave his cheeks one last rub then headed for the stairs, steeling himself for the mask he would have to wear in front of Chapman. Halfway down, he heard Keefe's voice with his mother's and stopped, sickened by the implication of their conversation.
"— see you tomorrow I'm afraid."
"Uh, ok, Mrs. Raglan. Tell Derek...I guess...just tell him Chapman came by."
Oh shit.
Moving as quickly and quietly as his throbbing backside would allow, the teen turned around and climbed back upstairs, foolishly heading for the sanctuary of his open bedroom. As soon as he reached it he remembered the missing door and spun around, determined to find somewhere he could hide with the protection of a lock.
Too late. As he spun on his heel and prepared to take off, he came face to face with his mother.
She did not look happy.
The moment this fact registered anew, Derek began to beg. He didn't feel like a swaggering teen jock any more and he hoped his mother could sense the difference.
"No, Mom, please? Please! I'll take it down! I'll take down the whole site, I swear!"
Grace met her son's panicked gaze with single-minded resolution and walked past him to the bed.
"Yes you will but after this is over. We're not finished yet, young man. Come here."
"Please, Mom!"
Inwardly Grace was tempted to relent but on the surface she knew she had to remain firm. Derek had yet to pay for all the cursing he'd done at her and, if there was one thing she abhorred, it was parents who let their children disrespect them especially with four-letter words.
She'd rather give him up to his narcissistic father than become one of those incompetents.
"Little boy, if you make me get off this bed and come get you, you'll really hate me then. You have another spanking coming and you're going to get it if I have to chase you clear down to the highway! Now get over here, I said!"
"C'mon, Mom! It's not fair! Why're you doing this?"
Grace was incredulous at his whining. "Why? Because you swore at me and treated me with contempt and I won't stand for it. Not from those kids I work with every day and certainly not from my own son." She crooked a finger and pointed firmly at the space in front of her. "Get your bottom over here, Derek. Right now."
Furious at the thought of getting paddled for something half his school probably did all the time, the teen opened his mouth to protest. A second later he shut it. He already knew how she felt about swearing and, even if he didn't, his mom wasn't going to listen to him from the look she had on her face. She might have listened a week ago but she wasn't the same woman now and, Lord knows, he'd seen that expression enough times as a kid to know she meant business.
He glanced out into the hallway and considered making a run for it but gave that up as impractical. Even if he outpaced her – and he wasn't sure he could from the way his backside was aching – he'd have to come home eventually.
He set his jaw and dragged his feet toward her, not at all sure he could sustain more whacks without breaking down. Hand spanking or not, it was still going to hurt and Derek scrambled for some kind of apology he could make that would cool her temper even a notch or two.
Stupidly, he blew it.
As he got within range and his mom reached for the zipper on his Dockers to strip him down, he boxed her hands away and destroyed his chances.
"What the fuck're you doing?!?"
It was the wrong thing to say when he was about to get dinged for disrespect and Grace stood up quickly to swat him for it before pulling him back into place.
"Cut the act and get over here! You've been flashing me every day since you were a baby and you've been doing it in public now for months! Don't you dare try and tell me that you're shy!"
Derek wasn't – at least not usually – but the circumstances here were entirely different and he couldn't cope with the idea of having to drop trow – for punishment of all things – at the ripe age of sixteen.
"It's not the same! Those were strangers, Mom! You're my mother and —"
"Exactly!" Grace snapped. She took a breath to calm down. "I'm your mother and I've seen you naked many times over. Now stop stalling and move your hands." As she slapped his fingers out of the way and undid the top button, she glanced up and pinned him with a look. "This is happening entirely because of you, I want you to know. You have yet to prove to me that you've learned your lesson."
Derek saw his chance and leapt at it.
"You're wrong, Mom! I have! I've totally learned my lesson and I get it! You can stop now!"
It didn't work.
A tug of war ensued as he fought to rebutton his pants while keeping his zipper intact but Grace was more persistent than he and ripped it open. The instant it came down, his Dockers and briefs followed suit and, for the first time since this whole mess began, Derek felt exactly like the naughty little boy his mother kept insisting he was. More that that, he sounded like it.
"Mo-om! I'll behave, Mom! Please! I'm sorry!"
He bent to drag his clothes back up but Grace took advantage of his position to pull him over her lap and trap his legs once again between her own.
"That may be but I told you your punishment's not finished and I meant what I said. You're getting the rest of it on your bare backside whether you want it or not so stop covering yourself and lay still." She tapped his bottom and got it twitching then raised her right hand high. "You should just count yourself lucky this spanking isn't being broadcast."
SHIT! The webcam! It was set to auto-start!
"MOM! WAIT! THE CAMERA!" he wailed. "IT'S ON, MOM! IT'S ON!"
"Oh really? Well good! Let everybody see that I did NOT give my son permission to sell himself to the world!"
Without further ado, she brought her hand down firmly and repeatedly, determined to teach Derek a lesson not only about using foul language but also about lying to dodge responsibility.
"PLEASE, MOMMY! PLEEEEASE! TURN IT OFF! TURN IT OFF!"
Grace refused. As a mother, she was very familiar with the lengths a child will go to halt punishment and spouting a whopper in the middle of a butt-roasting to bring it to a decisive end was hardly surprising. Derek wouldn't give it up though and, as the minutes passed and he continued to beg and call her "mommy" — something he hadn't done without sarcasm in many years – she reconsidered. It was very possible that he'd turned the camera on when he first got home from school before he'd gone stampeding throughout the house.
Dear god, could it really be active?
Appalled at what might be getting captured while she sat there stubbornly, Grace jerked him upright and rushed to his computer, noting almost immediately that the power LED was indeed bright green. With the camera lens aimed straight at her face, it was a fair assumption that Derek hadn't been lying at all and that dozens (maybe hundreds or thousands) of people were witnessing what was supposed to be a very private moment. Furiously, Grace traced all power cords and wrenched them from their outlets then strode back to the bed.
As Derek watched her coming, he clutched his bottom tighter and tried to jig his way past her.
"NO, MOMMY! NO! NO MORE! PLEASE, MOMMY! PLEEEEEASE!"
He was sorry – god how he was sorry – but Grace Raglan absolutely did not want to hear it. She sat down on the bed and yanked the high schooler back over her lap.
She was almost done but Derek didn't know it and with the very first slap, he let go. He'd been controlling himself by sheer force of will up until that point but he wasn't made of stone and he couldn't stand the pain. He didn't care that he sounded like a four-year-old. His voice cracked and hitched as he pled for a ceasefire and bawled out impossible promises to behave.
After three minutes, Grace couldn't take it. For Derek to be crying as hard as he was she reasoned he must have learned his lesson and she stood him up before her for a final scolding, holding his hands to force him to concentrate.
It didn't work.
Never in his worst nightmare had Derek dreamed of being upended over his mother's knees at sixteen and he sobbed brokenly as his mother lectured him. He listened to her words just enough to ensure he answered her questions the way she expected him to and shifted his feet, desperate to rub his bottom.
"— that understood?"
"Ye-esss, M-Mom. I'm s-sorry."
Derek had no idea what he'd just agreed to but, if it got his mom to take her hand and her hairbrush straight out of his room, he didn't rightly give a ding dong diddly. He sniffed and nodded in case she wasn't sure of his commitment.
Apparently this was what she was waiting for because she stood up and hugged him close, kissing the sweaty top of his head. Unwilling to risk her wrath by pulling away, Derek stiffened and waited her out. He didn't want her touching him in any way, shape, or form after the fire she'd just lit in his ass and he was glad she sensed it enough to let him go after a couple of seconds.
The moment she was out his room, he brushed all the places she'd stroked, scrubbing angrily at the tears and other wetness he'd shed because of her. It was the height of childishness but Derek didn't see it that way and kept it up until the nagging pain in his globes spoke up. Shuffling over to the hanging mirror inside his closet, he took a look...and turned away.
It was official.
He'd never be able to step outside the house again.
His mom had whacked his butt on camera – not for fun in a kinky sort of way but for real live punishment – and his entire client list probably saw it. He had no way of knowing how many had recorded it and begun uploading it to their own personal websites but Derek was willing to bet the percentage was high. There were at least a dozen girls from his school alone that subscribed. If they got the word out – and they would – the whole school would know by midnight, including god knew how many Europeans once Lucia had spread it around to all her friends in Sicily.
He wished he'd never bought the damn webcam in the first place. If he hadn't been so greedy and vain, he wouldn't be in this fix at all, wouldn't have to worry about returning to school to jeers and catcalls and crude drawings stuffed in his locker. It hadn't happened yet but he could picture it perfectly and, though it was the absolute last thing he wanted to do, he had to admit it: his mom was probably right. Not right to spank him of course (that, he would never admit) just right about the rest of it.
For the next few hours, Derek hid out in his room and brooded. When he wasn't lying on his stomach and sulking, he paced the floor and massaged his behind, cursing his mother under his breath for making his situation way worse than it had to be. She hadn't known about the camera being on initially but that didn't mean he blamed her any less. She shouldn't have spanked him at all for starters and, if she absolutely fucking had to, why the hell didn't she just do it in the bathroom when she picked up that stupid brush? Every time he passed his computer, he cringed at the thought of all the comments circulating on his site thanks to what she'd done, all the simpering jokes about what a "naughty little boy" he was and how his "mommy" had to spank his "bad widdle bum" for it.
By 8 o'clock, Derek couldn't take it. He was starving and willing to swallow the embarrassment of facing his mom long enough to get some supper but, before he ate, he had to see what people were really saying about him. He needed to know.
First things first though: he covered the camera.
With a towel blocking the lens, he ducked under the desk to plug all the cords back in then hovered by the keyboard and dragged on a loose pair of sweats. Naturally, since he was anxious for his PC to boot, it took forever and he checked the state of his butt in the mirror to distract himself, praying that it was finally returning to normal.
It wasn't.
If anything, it looked even redder than it had in the beginning and he scowled at the reflection before him. At this rate, Christmas would come and go before he could shower in the locker room without getting teased.
Great. Fuckin' thanks Mom.
Before he could start cursing her out again under his breath, the PC finished powering up. He padded over to check out his board and, when he saw the scads of messages that had collected in his absence, he took his pillow and doubled it then eased himself onto the chair. As he read, he forgot the ache in his backside and began to smile.
It wasn't nearly as bad as he'd feared. Apart from the odd jab at his manliness, most of them were pretty sympathetic – if not downright titillating – and he skimmed the racy ones first with great interest:
Hi Derek, I wish I was with u right now. If we were together I could kiss ur pain away and maybe suck ur...
Hey Deke, plz turn the cam back on so we can see if ur all right. I think u took it real well and ur cock looked so big when ur mom was giving it to u bare and otk...
OMG. I can't believe your mom spanked you over her knee. My mom does that 2 with my older brother but he doesn't look nearly as sexy as you did and he's almost 18...
D, u must be sooo pissed @ ur moms. If I was u, I'd show my butt so we can all take some pics for u and pass 'em to the cops...
Derek read several posts after that one but time and again he found his eyes straying back to the message from "SGG88". He wondered if she (or he) had a point. He didn't want his mom arrested, of course, but that didn't mean he couldn't benefit from her abuse in other ways.
Like maybe cashing in on the red ass she'd given him.
He checked his counters. According to the tally there were 18 members and 14 visitors still hanging around but more than ten times that many had been tuning in when Mom's brush was flying. He wasn't a math wizard but he didn't need to be for what he was seeing. If he could find a way to suck back in the hundreds of gawkers who'd left, he knew he could make a killing in minutes, one final big-ass windfall before his mom shut him down permanent.
Mind spinning with the possibility, Derek got up and padded down the hall. He listened. No sounds filtered back up to him and, as he checked his watch, he figured he had a good two or three hours before his mother poked her head in on her way to bed.
With the clock ticking, he hurried back to the computer and typed that his cheeks would be online in less than ten but that anyone who wanted a "private inspection" would have to pay extra. He knew his clients well enough to know he wouldn't be disappointed.
By the time ten minutes were up and Derek had changed into something more tempting for the show, the counters had jumped with three dozen subscribers willing to pay for an exclusive. Despite the boost to his ego, Derek didn't waste any more time eyeing the numbers or trying to figure out who to pick first. As soon as he saw that his No. 1 client "Ronnie" was floating among them, he pumped his fist victoriously.
The reason for his choice was simple: "Ronnie" wasn't just a good customer. He was actually Trev Thomas, the first string quarterback at his school, a Chippendale centerfold in the making AND a fudgepacker way deep in the closet. Frankly, things couldn't have been better. The only one in town who knew his dirty little secret was Derek and now, after a year of keeping a lid on it, he finally had grounds for blackmail. He knew exactly what he was going to say. If Trev didn't back him up and convince the kids at school the whole spanking disaster was a hoax, Derek would simply spread the word that "mr. golden boy" was really just a "gay boi" and watch his shame unfold.
With a saucy grin, Derek stripped the towel off his primary webcam and clicked Trev's profile. "Ronnie" was right there waiting and the second Derek recognized his voice, he laid out the deal. He braced himself for the possibility that Trev would deny his accusations and just hang up on him but "golden boy" saw an opportunity of his own and seized it. When the negotiations were done, the inquisition began and Derek answered all his questions with minimal prodding: how it felt to get his pants pulled down by his mom, how many smacks he got off-camera, and how sore his butt had been.
As he gave up the details of his punishment, Derek ran a hand over his washboard stomach and stroked the crotch of his tight-fitting football pants suggestively. He was lightly tracing the waistband when Trev demanded more, and since Derek had just as much face to lose as his teammate, he followed the boy's instructions and turned his back to the desk, inching his pants past his hips and straight to the floor before he bent over.
He wasn't surprised that the guy wanted to see him naked. He'd caught Trev checking him out enough times on the practice field and in the showers to know what turned him on and he spread his legs in a lineman's stance without waiting for Trev to ask, dropping into a defensive squat. While he ran a finger along his crack, he bullshitted about how painless the hairbrush really was and how he'd squirmed for his mom only to gain her sympathy.
When Trev asked to see the brush again, Derek found he didn't have to do a thing. Showing up out of nowhere and landing dangerously close to his right foot, he reached out and picked it up then slowly stood to face the open doorway on rubbery legs.
His mommy was standing there watching him.
And she did not look happy.","pools_count":0,"title":"Webcam Walloping","deleted":"f","public":"t","mimetype":"image/jpeg","pagecount":"1","rating_id":"1","rating_name":"Mature","ratings":[{"content_tag_id":"2","name":"Nudity","description":"Nonsexual nudity exposing breasts or genitals (must not show arousal)","rating_id":"1"},{"content_tag_id":"3","name":"Violence","description":"Mild violence","rating_id":"1"}],"submission_type_id":"12","type_name":"Writing - Document","guest_block":"t","friends_only":"f","comments_count":"1","views":"95"}