U. N. Known Writer

A Planned Surprise

Chapter One

Fondly Jordan would remember the games he and Colm had played when they'd been that age, before they had been forced to become obsessed about the way they looked, the clothes they wore, and the things they did. Now, he and Colm couldn't be seen to play the sorts of games that Colm's little brother played, or wear the clothes he did. Or rather, he didn't as the twelve year old was already, discarding the items his mother bought for him, for items of his own choosing, which Jordan found to be a great shame, although it did allow him to carry out his fantasies.

In their formative years, Colm and Jordan had teased the younger Jonny – back in the days before he insisted on being known by his full name of Jonathan – but that had trailed off recently for reasons Jordan didn't fully understand, even though he'd never really enjoyed humiliating the boy as much as his brother had done. In fact, despite being an only child Jordan had found himself sympathising with Jonny.

Soon Jordan was imaging what it would be like to be in Jonny's place as he was panted whilst held down, by the bigger boys, or even tied up. Of course Colm would never do that to him, his mate, but it gave Jordan a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach to think that, one day, perhaps he would. In the meantime, he just had to pretend.

The games had started a few weeks earlier when Jordan had arrived at Colm's house just in time to witness the end of an argument between little Jonathan and his mother. The result of this was that Jonathan launched all the clothes he found the most childish right out of his window directly down on where Jordan was standing. Without thinking the teenager picked them up, smiling to himself at the small shorts, briefs and t-shirts with cartoon characters. However, as he approached the front door with every intention of giving the clothes back, he had a thought so secret, that he at once became erect inside his baggy jeans and boxer shorts.

From that day on Jonathan Timpson no longer had to wear childish clothes, which was just as well, given that Jordan had taken them home with him, and had taken to wearing them himself whilst imaging that Colm was there laughing at the way he looked in the juvenile clothing.

Letting himself into the house, just as he did every day after school when he wasn't at Colm's house, Jordan, headed for the kitchen for what had been his favourite snack when he'd been ten – a banana sandwich – which he then took up to his room so that his games could begin.

Up in his room, Jordan put down his snack on his desk along with his homework. Then after a quick look out of the window, he dropped down to his knees and carefully pulled back the end of his carpet, exposing the bare boards beneath. This the hiding place where he'd kept his biggest secrets for years, and even Colm didn't know about this. That's how secret it was.

When Jordan had first found his hiding place, the contents had been rather silly, childish things, and, strangely they still were, including as they did, some cartoon DVD's that Jonathan had also thrown away, along with a few, toy cars, a slightly worse for wear, Action Man, a few board games, none of which had a recommended age, anywhere near fourteen. There were also a few items that had never been childish, including, a roll of duct tape, some lengths of rope, a couple of chains, two pairs of handcuffs with keys, some padlocks and a ping pong bat.

Taking the items he would need from the secret stash got ready for his adventure to begin. This involved shedding his teenage clothing and becoming a little boy, who could be bullied.

Off came the baggy, shapeless school uniform until Jordan was standing in his bedroom, as naked as the day he was born. His body appearing lean and long, even though he'd yet to have the growth spurt that Colm was already part way through, yet it wouldn't be long before Jordan caught him up. Not that Jordan was looking forward to that day, but still.

Taking up the first of the item from the stash, Jordan slipped his feet and legs into a boy's slip, size 11, that when pulled all the way up to his waist, was so tight and small on him that it barely covered him in front, and left either the top of the bottom of his buttocks exposed at the back. It also did very little to hide the very teenage erection that was tending out the slightly silvery but otherwise plain material at the front.

Having no real time to admire himself in his mirror Jordan did, none the less pop into the bathroom, so he could give his usually gelled up hair a quick wash, to remove the product from it. Then, a quick rub with a towel, turned the previous tamed hairstyle into a wild mop, more befitting a young boy.

Back in his bedroom, Jordan spent a few seconds selecting a t-shirt from his drawer. Naturally it wasn't one of his usual ones but rather one that was hidden in there for just this purpose. The shirt, in bright red, and little cartoon characters apparently dancing around the hems of the short sleeves, the neckline and the waist. It was, of course, tight on the teenager, and only just came down to his waist, so that, if he raised his arms, even slightly then it would expose his taut, lean stomach even when he'd pulled on the small white Addis shorts, that completed his look.

The shorts were probably the item that fit the teenager least of all, as although they'd been a good fit the last time Jonny had worn them, he had been just nine at the time, so they clung to Jordan like a second skin, and they sure lived up to their name as they were extremely short. The tight white hem of the legs barely making it an inch onto Jordan's thighs, while the white material was so stretched across his buttocks and groin, that nothing under them was hidden. Even the outline of the slip was visible, yet that, was half the point.

Socks and trainers completed the clothing. The former being knee length, rather than the ankle ones Jordan normally wore, even if they soon crumpled around his ankles anyway. The latter, also plain and simple. More plimsolls than real trainers and like everything else were slightly tight on the fourteen year old's feet but that discomfort was nothing compared to what he was going to feel for the next two hours, once he was in the box.

It was exactly a month earlier that Jordan and Colm had found the strange box in the basement of Williamson house. They'd been doing odd jobs in order to raise money for something or other, when they come across it behind loads of other junk that had been left behind by the previous owners and never touched in the near fifteen years since.

The box was clearly designed as a place to keep a small child's toys, as it was brightly painted, and was made up of narrow bars so that, presumably the child, and it's parents, could see which toys were in there, even when the top was closed and latched.

The strange thing was that Jordan didn't think anything about the box and that it was Colm who, half jokingly, suggest that if they'd known about the box years before, then they could have looked Jonny in it, to keep him from pestering them.

That night, as Jordan lay in bed, once more thinking about how life as a small boy was so much easier, he suddenly had a vision of a small face looking out from between the bars of the toy box. And that face was his.

The following day, Jordan returned to the basement, this time alone, and climbed into the box and, kneeling down, was just about able to lay down, curled up on the bottom, with his face pressed up against the bars which gave him all the more feeling of being trapped and, caused a steel hard erection to appear in his trousers.

Yet, despite that, there was still the open space above him, so reaching up, Jordan pulled the lid up and over himself and instantly the once light box was bathed in a semi darkness due to the lid being solid. This made the remained of the garage seem lighter, making him seem even more trapped especially as when it closed, the a ring on the lid, crossed over a ring on the base, with a clicking sound. A

When he first heard this, Jordan worried that the box had somehow locked itself, and that he was trapped inside, but when he investigated he noted that although the two rings lined up, so a padlock could be put through them, there was no automatic lock, so he wasn't trapped. Something that, he found disappointing.

The next time Jordan climbed into the box, he came prepared with a combination padlock and it wasn't long before he was truly looked inside the box. He knew the code to get himself out, of course, and had even practised to make sure he could get his hands though the bars enough to be able to work the lock, but all the same, this gave him even more sensations that he was trapped. Held prisoner, just like Colm had wanted to do to his little brother. Only now, Jordy was his own the little brother to bully as and when he saw fit.

It was how Jordan had come to see himself, as a small boy being humiliated and/or held prisoner by older boys, and that was why he was now heading down to the basement carrying a padlock, the ping pong bat, a roll of duck tape and a set of handcuffs.

The game was to be a combination of things he and Colm had actually done to Jonny, only done all at once, instead of several months, if not years apart.

The first part of this involved the duct tape, which they had often used to keep the smaller boy quiet whilst they picked on him in the most simplistic fashion possible, by winding it around his head. This Jordan now did in his new disguise as 'Jordy'.

Pressing the end of the tape roll to his check, Jordy ducked his head forward so he could run the tape all the way around the back of his head, and over his mouth once more. The roll passing around his head twice more before he was satisfied that he was silenced.

Popping out of character for a second, Jordan ran his fingers around the back of his head to check the tape hadn't caught any of his hair as this, he'd found, could be incredible painful as was becoming more so as he got older. This was more true of the thing he did next.

Checking the timer on his watch – the only 'Jordan' thing that 'Jordy' wore – so that he would have plenty of warning as to when his parents were likely to be home, and he could get back to normal before the did so, the young looking boy cleared away the items hiding the box, and got ready.

A final check that everything was within reach, Jordy finally stepped over the sides of the box and knelt down near one end, so that he could bend his upper body over the side, until his head and shoulders were down near the dirty floor of the basement. Then he picked up the ping pong bat, and started to spank himself with it.

It was something he'd seen Colm do to Jonny a few times, but which Jordan had never actually done to the boy himself as that just didn't seem right. He'd also never been spanked himself, other than once or twice when Colm had made a playful swot at his rear during some game or other. That though, had been enough to make him hard in his jeans at that time, so now it had become part of his game.

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

Jordan bought the bat down as sharply as he could on Jordy's barely covered buttocks until the right side of the small boy's bottom started to heat up. Then he changed hands and did the same to the other side.

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

For around five minutes the boy in the very short shorts, spanked his own rear, from one side or the other until tears started to come to his own eyes. This was as far as Colm had ever gone on Jonny, so it was where Jordan stopped as well. His bottom already throbbing from the pain of the blows but then so was his erection.

It was time to move on to the next stage of the operation.

Sitting down carefully on the hinged side of the box, his shorts straining as he did so, especially when he then bent over so he could start wrapping the tape around his socked ankles, and then, for a second time around his bare thighs. This latter one would be slightly painful to remove as ripping the tape off would pull out all the little hairs that were now starting to grow on Jordan's body, but that was a small price to pay for the enjoyment the teenager got from his experiences as "Jordy".

With his legs taped together, Jordy used his arms on the sides of the box to lower himself down onto his knees, so that he wouldn't fall over as got himself fully into the box. Making sure to prevent his arms from being trapped under him, he reached up and took hold of the propped open lid and, pulled it down closed on top of himself.

A shiver ran through Jordan's body as the box lid clicked shut over Jordy's trapped body, but he wasn't done yet, as he still had to reach through the bars so he could snap the padlock in place and then, when that was done, he then had to work his hands back behind his back where he could put them into the handcuffs that were waiting there for them on the floor of the box.

Finally, Jordy was tied up and locked in the box. Trapped, with an aching bottom from his recent spanking. Gagged with tape he couldn't cry out and with his hands locked behind him he couldn't even move. Of course, the handcuffs were toys and could be replaced just by pressing a bottom but that didn't matter, as far as Jordy was concerned he was trapped there until his watch gave a little beep. Until there was nothing he could do but wait. So that's what he did.

Chapter Two

The day he was going to put his plan into action Jordan had everything planned down to the last detail and he was determined to go through with it. One way or another Colm was going to turn him into Jordy. He just didn't know it.

As far as Colm Timpson knew the plan was simple. They had the house to themselves, while the parents were at work, and with Jonathan was over at his friend's house. This latter thing wasn't really allowed, but the last thing the two fourteen year olds wanted was the little kid hanging around. Not that they were going to get up to all that much other than play video games, but that wasn't the point. Little kids were a pain, pure and simple.

Given there wasn't much on the agenda Colm was rather surprised when his friend turned up carrying a bag with him, but when he asked, Jordan just gave him a strange look, blushed a little, and shrugged that it was 'nothing.'.

The mysterious bag was soon forgotten, as the teenagers got down to playing their games for a good hour before, during a drinks break, when totally out of the blue, Jordan asked an odd questions. "Hey Colm did you hear about that prank that some guys pulled on their mate?"

"No! What was it?"

Jordan blushed a little, looking briefly over towards the bag, "Oh it doesn't matter," he said, restarting the computer game once more.

They continued playing for nearly another hour but it soon became plain that neither of them had their mind totally on the game, so when Jordan called time so he could go to the toilet, Colm didn't complain even though he normally would have. And for good reason. He wanted some time alone.

Colm waited for just as long as it took his visiting friend to step on the creaking board, halfway up the stairs before he crawled his way across the floor, to the bag and peeked inside. There, laying on the top, in a rather neat way was not only a list of the bag's contents but detailed instructions of what they could all be used for, written in the slightly wobbly, but very familiar hand of his best friend.

For a moment Colm couldn't believe what he'd found, and just what his friend had been intending to do not only with the things in the bag, but that he'd been intending to do it to him. No wonder, he thought, that Jordan had asked him if he'd known about the prank as clearly he was intending to re-enact it. Well, Colm thought, two could play at that came.

At that moment Jordan started to come back downstairs, so Colm, snatched a small box from the top of the bag, closed it back up and was back in position in front of the games console by the time his friend entered the living room. "Hey Jordan!" he asked, "fancy a drink now you've made some space."

"Sure!" came the reply, that barely hid a knowing grin, that grew wider as he tested to see if his plan was working or not, "I'll get it seeing that I'm up."

Instantly Colm was on his feet, "No I'll get it, you sit there." And with that the host darted into the kitchen.

Smiling to himself, Jordan knew exactly what was going on, a glance towards the apparently forgotten bag proving that much. He felt suddenly nervous and yet also excited as he imagined, Colm opening the packet of what he thought was sleeping powder – which was actually sherbet – and tipping it into whatever can of drink he'd pulled from the fridge.

By the time an equally nervous Colm returned from the kitchen, Jordan found that he'd started to harden inside his jeans, but thankfully he knew it wouldn't show in the baggy jeans he was currently wearing. The same wouldn't be true later, of course, but before then, he had to take the drugged drink his friend was offering him, and, pretending to be thirsty he downed it as fast as the fizzy soda would let him.

However, what Jordan didn't know was the reason the sherbet hadn't tasted anywhere near as bad as he thought it would. That was because it wasn't in his drink at all. Colm, not wanting to risk drugging his friend with an unknown substance had substituted one of his mother's sleeping pills instead.

Both teenagers kept their own private yet linked secrets as the computer games started up, until a little over thirty minutes Jordan started to feel tired. This surprised him as, obviously there was no reason for him to be tired, as far as he was aware, so he just put it down to his acting getting a little too good. Nonetheless he went with it, yawning, stretching before, eventually he actually started to fall asleep. Still, why not, he thought, he'd be sure to wake up once the plan started.

Colm waited patiently, continuing to play the game – very badly – until it was clear his best friend was out for the count. Then he quickly cleared the games console out of the way, and nudged Jordan until he fell onto his back, in the middle of the now bare floor.

For a moment Colm looked down at his helpless mate laying on the floor his chest rising slowly as he slept, and wondered if he should go through with it or not. Yet although he started of thinking more on the not side, the more he thought about it then the more certain he became that he was going to do, and before too long, he had the bag unpacked and was starting work on what he had to admit would be a great prank.

Returning to wear Jordan lay on the floor, Colm knelt beside him, pushing the other boy's t-shirt up his chest towards his head. Then, taking the lower hem, he pulled it up over Jordan's head. Thankfully the neck opening was so large to allow his head to go right the way through, which made it much easier to remove than Colm had thought it would, as all he had to then do was thread Jordan's arms through and the boy was bare chested.

Without wasting time, to admire Jordan's lean, slightly muscular torso, Colm, shuffled around to his feet. There he pulled open the laces on this friend's oversized trainers, to free the footwear, and then the small ankle socks that were beneath them. Now he paused for a second before reaching up Jordan's legs for the fastenings on his jeans. These he soon had undone, and once more, thanks to the bagginess of the garment they were incredibly easy to work down the sleeping boy's legs and off.

Jordan was now laying on the floor in his just his boxer shorts and at that stage, according to the notes he himself had written out, the plan should have moved on to the next stage, and Colm should have started to re-dress him in the clothes from the bag but, Colm had had an idea that would make the prank even better.

Leaving the boxer shorted boy, laying in the centre of the living room floor for a couple of minutes, Colm went upstairs to bedroom, to fetch the present one of his uncles had bought him for his fourteenth birthday. That uncle was the joker in the family so had thought it hilarious to give his nephew the electric shaver that he clearly wasn't going to be needing for a while, as a sign of his impending manhood. Colm though, had used it. Not on his jaw, as there was nothing there was little to shave there, and what there was he wanted to keep, but on his upper leg where no one would miss the fine hairs that grew there. From there, he'd carried his experiment further and turned his attention to the only other hair he had on his body, that no one would miss. His pubes. Colm had only trimmed his own pubic bush, but had instantly felt younger. So he could only imagine what it would be like if he'd shaved them all of like he was about to do to Jordan.

Back in the living room, Colm wondered if the buzzing noise of the trimmer would wake his friend so performed a test run in Jordan's arm pit. There wasn't much there to remove but, laying Jordan on his side with his arm raised up over his heard proved that nothing was going to wake the boy up just yet. So Colm got down to business.

Trying not to think to much about what he was looking at Colm slipped down Jordan's boxer shorts and for the first time in some years came face to face with his best mate's private parts. Naturally the were more developed than when he'd last seen them, now that the nuts had descended and the both them and the prick itself had grown although, Colm was pleased to note, they appeared to be at least slightly smaller than his own.

That thought, unfortunately caused Colm's prick to stiffen inside his own boxers and from that point on, he got on with the job at hand. Moving the trimmer, swiftly around his unconscious friend's groin, so the tiny little snipping teeth could remove the dark curls that were growing there. Not once though, did he actually touch Jordan's genitals, as that was just too 'gay' for him.

Once Jordan no longer had any hair below his neck line, Colm set about redressing him, starting not with the replacement of the boxer shorts, but instead he used another item that he'd bought downstairs. A pair of his little brother's old briefs that he'd found tucked away in the bottom of the bag Jordan had bought with him. These weren't listed on the instructions but, as they were there, then clearly Jordan had intended to use them at one point, even if he'd apparently changed his mind. (This was actually true as Jordan had thought Colm wouldn't have stripped him naked!).

The small, tight silver bikini briefs weren't all that easy to get onto the sleeping teenager, as the didn't slid up Jordan's legs anywhere near as easily as the boxer shorts had slid down them. However, by rolling his friend from side to side, Colm was able to pull them all the way up until they were in place. Not that they covered all that much but still.

The next item Colm put on his friend was just as difficult, for the grey shorts certainly lived up to their name, and were really quite short, not to mention nearly being as tight as the briefs. Not quite, of course, but enough to make sure Jordan had to be rolled from side to side once more, until they too where up around his waist where, finally Colm was able to fasten the clasp around his friend's waist, and to lock it shut with the small padlock that had kindly been supplied.

Now came what proved to be the most difficult part of the re-dressing part of the prank. The jumper. This was dark green, long sleeved, and just like everything else a good two or three sizes too small for the teenager. Still, by now Colm was determined to carry the plan right through so he persevered working the arms into the long sleeves until they, and a fair amount of wrist, appeared out of the end. Then he shoved Jordan's head through the hole, and after some more rolling around managed to pull both front and back down until they almost made it to the top of the shorts.

At this stage the look Jordan had intended for himself was already coming together, but there were still a few more things to be added which Colm soon had in place.

Two long grey socks were pulled over Jordan's feet and up to just below his knees were, Colm rolled them down after he'd applied the elasticated garters. To make sure they stayed there.

There were no shoes with the outfit to prevent – the notes said – the victim of the prank from being able to run away, something that Colm thought highly unlikely given the way Jordan was looking even without the last two items.

The scarf was long, large, and featured alternating dark green and yellow panels. It had been prepared in a loop that was held in place with a small rubber woggle, however there was more to it than first met the eye as inserted into the neck part of the scarf was a loop of wire with two large rings at either end. These rings, once the scarf was in place, met just under the woggle and could be locked with a padlock which would keep the wearer from removing it, whilst staying hidden beneath the scarf itself. Of course, with the scarf locked in place then jumper couldn't come off either.

Finally, Colm reached for the small round cap with its gold coloured trim, which he planted firmly on his friend's head, making sure to get the elastic that held it in place not only down under Jordan's chin, but tucked into the kerchief so that this too, couldn't be removed.

Now all Colm had to do was wait for his friend to wake up and discover that the prank was on him.

Jordan woke up feeling rather strange. He'd only intended to close his eyes and pretend to fall asleep and to remain pretending while Colm put his plan into action yet, somehow he had actually nodded off.

It took a few minutes for these thoughts to seep into his brain, along with the realisation that he was no longer sitting facing the TV like he had been when he'd fallen asleep. Now, he appeared to be laying on his back, on the carpet, yet it was the sensation of a cool breeze blowing across his bare legs that gave Jordan his first hint that Colm had actually carried out his plan. Then there was the tightness around his shins from the garters. The slight itching from the old fashioned man made fibres of the jumper. The heavy clogging at his neck from the scarf, and the sensation of the cap, and its chin strap on his head. There was also a very odd feeling around his groin but, for the time being Jordan wasn't focusing on that, but everything else.

Slowly he raised his heavy head from the carpet and looked down his body. Sure enough, he was dressed in the very clothes he'd bought to the house himself, and what's more they were all locked into place with tiny padlocks.

"Got you!" Colm yelled, rather too loudly, when he saw his friend was finally awake, "You were going to prank me weren't you, so I did it to you first!"

"What did you do to me?" asked Jordan, even though he knew the answer, he just wanted Colm to say it. To make it more real. Not that it could get that much more real than it already was.

"I used the stuff you bought with you. Gave you a sleeping pill, then when you nodded off, I dressed you like a little boy scout and no you've got to do everything I say for the rest of the day or you ain't going to get your big boy clothes back."

Jordan blushed, not so much from what had happened – given that this had been his plan all along – but that, he was starting to become excited from it. And there was more to come as Colm explained.

"I took some great photos of you while you were sleeping so you see just how silly you look."

Sitting on the sofa to the side of where Jordan was laying, Colm held out the back of his digital camera so his guest could see the display screen as one by one a series of photos of what appeared to be a small cub scout lay sleeping on the floor.

Naturally, upon seeing himself dressed up in the little grey shorts, and full accessories of the bygone youth movement, only made Jordan's penis harden even more as, other than in a mirror he hadn't seen anything like it before. He looked so young. So young in fact that he could barely believe it was him, and wouldn't have, had the evidence not been all around him.

Eventually Colm spoke, "I think for your first job you can tidy my bedroom."

"What job?"

"You're dressed like a little cub scout and everyone knows that little cub scouts do chores for their elders and betters so that's what you're going to do in order to earn back your big boy clothes."

Once more Jordan blushed, first in the humiliation of the situation and then at himself for not having thought of adding that to the plan. Not that the reason for the blush mattered to Colm, he was just pleased that his friend was apparently accepting that the roles had been reversed.

"Go on then, get up to my room and clean it up. Scoot!" ordered Colm using, much to Jordan's surprise the same patronising voice he'd always used to his little brother, back when he'd been Jonny.

For Jordan the job was probably one of the best Colm could have suggested for, if nothing else it meant he could get away from his friend over baring gaze at the way he was now dressed. Yet, even as he made his way up the stairs, he was aware of just how hard Colm was staring at him.

Without moving from the sofa Colm watched his friend get up from the floor and head towards the stairs, his eyes drawn almost without him realising it, to Jordan's rear encased now in those tight grey shorts, that unlike his normal clothing outlined every contour to perfection. He'd never had thought like that about another boy, and yet, he liked the way Jordan was barely covered by the too small clothing. His stomach and small of his back appearing whenever the jumper rose up, not to mention the long bare expanse of his legs between the tops of the artificially raised socks and the shorts that barely made it over his thighs. Jordan just look so much more vulnerable dressed like that, while Colm, had all the power, in his jeans, red t-shirt and shirt. It was almost as if Jordan had become like the little brother Jonny had been. One Colm could boss around, and get to do whatever he wanted, while at the same time, he could do anything he wanted to him.

As he sat on the sofa Colm started to think back to all the things he had done to his little brother, in the years before Jonny had become too big to do something about it and Colm was no longer able to keep him in line with the threat of a spanking. A threat he had never actually carried out, but was now wishing he had. If only he dared do it now, but twelve year old Jonathan certainly wouldn't stand for it now he thought himself all grown up. Jordan, dressed as he was, however, had succumbed to Colm's power without protest. Did that also mean that Colm could punish him if he did something wrong.

In his mind's eye, Colm suddenly had a vision of himself pulling down the grey shorts his friend was now wearing, and then the small bikini briefs beneath them to expose the pale backside that he could then attack with the same hairbrush he'd always threatened Jonny with. Surely Jordan would never stand for that. Would he?

Eventually Colm put aside the idea that he could spank his friend and went upstairs to see how the job was going, with the intention of telling Jordan that the joke was over and that he could get dressed however, when he got to his room he found Jordan wasn't even there. Not only that but his room was every bit as messy as when he'd left it that morning. Clearly nothing had been done, but if that was the case then what had Jordan been doing. The answer, it turns out, was in the next room.

The room was Jonathan's and while on the surface it looked pretty much like a carbon copy of Colm's room, there were, as Jordan knew only too well, still some hidden traces of the younger brother's largely discarded time in junior school. Having turned twelve Jonathan had declared himself a 'teenager' and had promptly put away anything he thought of as 'childish' into a big box under his bed. This Jordan had now hauled out, emptied into the middle of the floor and was now happily playing with as if he was in reality as young as his currently clothing made him look.

"What the hell are you doing?" Colm yelled when he was what his friend had done. "You know we're not meant to go into Jon– Jonathan's room and mess with his stuff."

"I was only playing." Protested the bare legged boy.

Colm couldn't believe his friend had used that, the most childish excuses to justify his admittedly childish behaviour and, without realising it, he once more slipped back into his 'big brother' role for the first time in over a year, "Come on, you're going to have to clear up all this mess you've made, and now."

"But–."

"No buts. Nothing. " Colm snapped, "Just do it."

Standing with his arms folded in the doorway, Colm watched as his short trousered friend set about returning the items to the box and then pushing the box back under his brother's bed.

When it was done, Colm sent Jordan downstairs so he could make a final check, it being just as he'd finished that when he heard the glass break.

Racing downstairs, fearing the worst, Colm found Jordan in the kitchen standing next to the remains of glass on the floor. "I was getting a drink!" he explained.

"Since when do we use glasses." Colm cried out in frustration, snatching his friend's arm and pulling him away from the glass in a purely protective measure until the two of them ended up face to face.

All the feelings he'd ever had when Jonny had refused to do what he, his big brother, surfaced inside Colm, and the urge to punish Jordan for his stupidity rushed straight to the top of the pile in such a way as to make his boxers tingle once more. "I'm in charge here." He said, "And you have to do what I tell you."

For a long minute, once the words were out in the open, they were left to hang there. Jordan reacting first, responding just like the chastised little boy he was. His eyes dropping to the floor, while his hands hang by his sides, nervously twiddling with the hem of his shorts. This, naturally brought attention to them, and what they meant and just how Colm was in charge.

"Right then." The apparently older boy stated, "I'll take care of the glass, and you can go back upstairs and tidy my room like I asked you to do in the first place, or else. Got it."

At the well known threats, Jordan's eyes raised up to meet those of his friend. The disguised teenager surprised to find Colm wasn't laughing. Apparently whatever he meant by 'or else' he really meant. Jordan was tempted to ask, but didn't want to break the character of "Jordy" he'd slipped into as soon as he'd seen the shorts he was wearing, to do so. He was sure he'd find out sooner or later. Sooner if he had his way.

For his part, Colm was himself surprised he'd not only said the words but the rush he'd got from them. He couldn't really understand how they had triggered the pleasure he felt in his groin, which he'd never had when he'd said them to his real little brother, and yet now he was starting to harden up inside his jeans. Clearly he enjoyed bossing his best friend about, but was there more to it than that? There was only one way to find out.

"What did I ask you to do?" Colm snapped, before Jordan really had much time to do anything at all.

The teenage cub scout looked confused under his cap.

"I told you to clean my room didn't I?" reminded Colm, "So why are you still here?"

Jordan's mouth opened but no words came out. He was just too confused by his friend's sudden change of attitude even though the biggest shock was still to come.

"What do I have to do to get you to do what you are told. DO I have to spank you?"

His eyes now as wide open as his mouth, Jordan stared at his friend. This was something that although he had thought about would never would ever happen so he'd never risked including it into his plan, and now here was Colm offering it up on his own. Surely he didn't mean it. "You wouldn't dare!" he said.

"Oh wouldn't I?" Colm snapped back, "You're a naughty little boy and naughty little boys get their bums spanked."

The words once more echoed around the room, and as he said them Colm could feel his erection grow stronger.

"But you can't?" Jordan challenged once more, in a somewhat whiney voice that got him rather more than he bargained for.

Instantly Colm once more grabbing Jordan's arm in his cub scout jumper and pulling him over towards the sofa where he sat down, with Jordan standing in front of him. "I'm going to spank you know." Colm said as if he didn't believe it himself.

"Please don't." replied Jordan adding something he had intended to keep to himself. "Don't pull my pants down."

"What?" Colm was shocked, yet now the thought was in his head, he couldn't get it out again, and soon his hand was going into the pocket of his jeans, looking for the key to the padlock that kept the cub shorts in place.

"NO please!" Jordan repeated, his hands gripping the sides of his shorts, and holding them up, pulling them even higher so that they clung to his loins even more. Yet that was all he did, making no attempt at all to prevent Colm from unlocking and then unfastening the shorts. He even released his own grip so the shorts could actually be pulled down.

Colm smiled as Jordan's face showed the surprise that he wasn't wearing boxers anymore but a pair of way too small bikini briefs that did next to nothing to cover up his boyhood. So little in fact that his pubic hair should have just about been visible except, of course it wasn't because it wasn't there anymore.

It took a few moments for Jordan to realise what had happened in earlier, that he'd actually been drugged and had clearly been asleep for longer than the couple of minutes he'd thought it had been. Colm had clearly also done more than the instructions had told him to including changing his underwear and, if the glint in his friend's eye was anything to go by, something else as well. But what? One thing was sure, he didn't want to find out. Not like this anyway.

"Please," Jordan said again, using a voice that would have made a ten year old cringe, but which did little to help his situation. The opposite if anything. Colm looking on at his peer standing before him in the too small briefs, with their surprise underneath, and knew that they would soon be joining the shorts around Jordan's ankles. It was just a matter of time.

Naturally, Jordan tried to pull away from Colm, but the seated teenager just put his hands around the Jordan's hips and held him there which was strange as in previous contests the two boys had always been perfectly matched with neither having an edge over the other, and yet now, in the current situation, it was as if Jordan was much weaker, than his friend. A situation that Colm was about to exploit.

From his vantage point on the sofa, Colm looked up at the wide yes of his friend and then, as his eyes moved down the standing body he noted how the cub scout jumper had raised to expose Jordan's trim waist. His eyes continuing down to the brief slip Jordan was wearing, noting how well the silver coloured cloth clung to the loins, the waistband dragged down to expose a lot of hairless flesh, that made the other fourteen year old appear very boyish indeed. Despite himself he couldn't help but stare at the bulge where Jordan's willy – somehow 'dick' just didn't sound right – was, and how, that too now seemed so small in its tight encasement, but then it clearly wasn't hard like Colm's was, inside his jeans and boxers.

Blushes, when he realised this Colm continued to look over his friend's body, down the legs that now had small goose bumps on them, and were shivering slightly, but not from the cold. Then he reached the bunched up grey cub scout shorts around Jordan's ankles and it was Colm's turn to shiver as he plainly remembered pulling them down himself.

"Can I pull my shorts up, please." Jordan asked when he noticed where Colm was looking.

Colm didn't say anything, he just gave a tug with his hands on his friend's tiny briefs, and suddenly, Jordan had forgotten all about his shorts.

"No, please, don't pull my pants down." He backed away, but by then it was too late. Colm's fingers had already curled themselves into the top of his underpants so that as he moved they pulled away from his body showing more than he ever intended to. Namely his genitals nestling inside. And something didn't look right.

"You're a little boy now." Colm teased him, "One with no hair around his nuts."

Jordan was shocked, and it was just the distraction Colm wanted for a second later, the silver briefs had joined Jordan's shorts around his ankles and there was shielding him all.

Jordan took on a near full body blush as he was left standing naked from the waist down, with his privates only a matter of inches from his best friend's face. What he didn't realise was that although his 'willy' was much the same size as Colm's prick, under normal circumstances these were far from normal circumstances and right now, while his willy had shrunk in humiliation of being stripped, Colm's was, rock hard from his doing the humiliating. Neither boy could really believe that their pranks had come to this and that, they were each enjoying it, in their own way.

At one point Jordan tried to cover himself with his hands but it was such a half-hearted effort that it took little more than Colm's fingers brushing across the backs of them for him to move them aside and expose himself once more. Colm thought this was all part of the prank, that Jordan should be forced to expose himself that way, and, anyway, he rather liked looking at his friend's now hairless groin, as it made him feel so much more mature, and older, and in charge, that he otherwise would have. Plus, now that Jordan looked so much like a little boy, then he wouldn't feel so odd about putting him over his lap and spanking his bum until it was bright red, just like he'd done when his brother had been as small as Jordan now looked.

While he thought about what he was going to do next, Colm held Jordan in front of him, until he had a clear idea of what he was going to do. "Right," he said, "Now I'm going to bend you over my lap and give you a spanking."

Oddly, Jordan didn't protest, instead just allowed his friend to guide him down so that his arms and legs were on opposing sides of Colm's knees, with his backside, positioned over the raised right leg, so that it was the highest part of his body and already trembling slightly at what was about to happen.

Smiling even more broadly now, Colm paused to push the back of the cub scout jumper all the way up his friend's back, in the pretext of wrapping his left arm around the body, so he could hold him still which was just as well for when his right hand came up it was no longer empty.

At the strange touch of rubber on his bottom, Jordan nearly jumped clear off his friend's lap. His head spinning he looked up and saw the very toe of one of Colm's slippers – or indoor shoes as the teenager insisted on calling them – poking out over his hip. But it wasn't there for long. Soon it was starting to raise up in the air.

WHACK!

The footwear exploded across Jordan's left buttock in such a painful sting that the breath was driven right out of Jordan's body leaving the room in near total silence, until the second blow came.

WHACK!

It landed on his right buttock and this time Jordan's voice returned, "Ow!" he yelped.

The cry made Colm laugh slightly and do it all over again right onto his friend's bare bottom where seconds later a pair of hands appeared in a poor attempt to shield the flesh from more punishment. Colm though soon had order restored and was able to capture both of Jordan's hands in his own and pin them onto the punished boy's back where they couldn't hinder proceedings anymore.

WHACK! WHACK!

And so the slippering continued, Jordan's legs kicking wildly, and his bottom moving repeatedly across Colm's lap in an attempt to escape the blows that were coming it's way, and yet making no difference at all.

WHACK! WHACK!

Somewhere along the line, the shorts and briefs went flying from Jordan's ankles.

WHACK! WHACK!

Every blow bought a cry of despair from Jordan and the wish that it would be the last, but they just kept on coming.

WHACK! WHACK!

Then, just as Jordan thought it was never going to end. It did.

Collapsed over his friend's lap Jordan found himself not just crying but sobbing, even as he heard Colm putting the slipper back on the floor by his head, and knew the spanking was over. He just couldn't move. Not yet. His legs and rear were just trembling too much. While, for his part, Colm just looked down at the bright red bottom that was staring back up at him. He could even feel the heat that was coming up from it, and despite an over whelming urge to touch it – emanating from his erection – he didn't. He just looked at it until the crying finally died down.

It was Jordan who spoke first, once more asking to get dressed.

"Not yet." Colm replied after a few seconds, with the first thing that came into his head, that wouldn't spoil his view, "You should calm down first."

Eventually though, Colm thought he'd better let Jordan up so releasing him he allowed his friend to get back slowly onto his feet, where, naturally Jordan's first move was to rub his sore bottom before, he started to reach for his clothes at which point Colm stopped him.

"I didn't say you could get dressed did I?"

For a second Jordan looked like he was going to say something but then he changed his mind as the thought crossed his mind that if he challenged Colm to much then he would end up back over the teenager's lap getting more of what he'd just had, and he wasn't sure that was such a good idea. Still it was something of a relief when he was told to go and stand in the corner as, at least then his groin would be hidden from view even if his red bottom was.

Now his friend was staring at the wall, Colm was finally able to re-adjust his erection inside his jeans and boxers shorts into a more comfortable position whilst replaying what had happened, and wondering if he could make it happen again.

Chapter Three

In the days following the spanking Jordan was confused. One the one hand his plan had been a great success but on the other, it hadn't. Colm had add things into the mix that he hadn't thought of such as shaving his pubes off. Something he was still coming to terms with as the hairs he'd once had still hadn't grown back, although his bottom had, at last returned to its normal colour.

Lost in his confusion, he spent most of his time up his room that weekend ignoring his parents, looking for more information about what he was feeling and the various things that were happening to him. This despite his mother's well meaning attempts to get himself outside into the open where, as she continued to remind him, were good for boys his ages. Yet, such comments just made Jordan think more like Jordy, and that confused him further.

On the Sunday Colm came around to see him, but even then lost in thoughts about what had happened Jordan refused to see his friend which, as things turned out, played pretty much into Colm's plans for a trick he was sure would be so much better than the one he thought Jordan had tried to play on him and which, therefore, despite what had already happened, he had to get revenge for.

Sitting in the kitchen talking to Mrs. Williamson while she stood at the ironing board, Colm took his time bring the conversation around to how Jordan was lucky to have such an understanding mother, who would let him sit around all day. To which the woman had just shrugged.

"Never too late to make him change." Remarked Colm seemingly offhandedly going on to give an account of the summer school Jonny had been sent to the previous year and which, as things were going, he was likely to go to again in a few months to sort him out. Yet while most of what he said about the strict discipline and dress code the school enforced was correct one part was totally made up. That being the spankings as which the woman had laughed saying that such a thing would certainly make Jordan buck his ideas up.

The conversation may well have stopped there, but just at that moment Mrs. Williamson happened to pick up a pair of Jordan's trousers that had a rip in the knee. A rip, Colm actually knew all about as he'd been there a few weeks previously when the trousers had become caught on a fence they were climbing over as part of a short cut back to school.

"Look what he's done to these, Colm?" the woman said holding up the trousers with her finger wriggling through the hole.

"Jonny was always ripping his trousers," Colm took the bait with both hands, "But the summer school stopped him."

The mother was intrigued. "How?"

"They made him wear shorts all the time so there were no trousers to rip."

"Really!"

"Yes, it worked too, Jonny is a lot more careful with his clothes now." This wasn't entirely true but then neither was the part about the shorts, still it worked, Mrs Williamson looked interested in the concept. "I could get you a pair of Jonny's shorts if you want to try it with Jordan."

The woman didn't say anything but looked thoughtful for a moment before she headed for the stairs taking the torn trousers with her, and with Colm, smiling to himself, following in her wake.

Jordan was a little startled when his mum burst into his room, but the moment he saw the damage clothing he knew what was going to happen. Or at least he thought he did.

"Look what you've done to your trousers." She snapped at once. "I don't know why I let you talk me into getting them for you if this is how you are going to treat them."

"Sorry mum!" he said but it made little difference.

"I don't know why I bother getting you grown up things if you can't take care of them. I should have made you keep the clothes you had when you were younger, at least then it wouldn't matter if you damaged them, as they were cheaper and, anyway you repair cheaper then clothes do."

Jordan was confused. Had he heard that right. Surely not. Mind you, his mum wasn't finished yet.

"You always looked so smart when you were younger, and it must have been better for you to have the air and sun get to your legs and arms, than it is now when you're totally wrapped up."

"What?"

"You heard me," Jordan's mum said, moving over to where his clothes were and, rummaging through the drawers before he could do anything about it. "Here, put these on."

Looking in total shock at the white sports shorts and yellow athletics vest his mum was holding, Jordan barely noticed Colm stepping into the room.

"Go on," his mum pushed, "Put them on, and hurry up if you want to spend any time with your friend."

Jordan blushed, but this did little to prevent the clothes he'd often worn in private from being thrust towards him, and for his mother to stand there expectedly.

There was nothing for it, Jordan was going to have to put them on, if for no other reason than to get his mother out of his room so he could talk to Colm so, turning his back he slid out of his jeans and pulled the neatly pressed shorts smoothly up his legs and thighs, until the were fitted nice and snugly around his waist under the voluminous t-shirt he had on. Not that this was there for long as soon that was gone over his head, and in it's place the now too small faded yellow vest with the blue stripe across the chest.

"There don't you look smart," his mum said, "Or you will when you tuck your shirt in."

Quickly Jordan did as he was told, and for the first time in years stood before his mother with bare legs, feeling so much younger than he was which, it seemed was just how she now saw him.

"If you can't behave like a teenager," he heard his mother saying, "then you shan't be treated like one so while you are short trousers you will be treated like a little boy until you learn to behave again. Got it."

Jordan was shocked, alarmed and excited all in equal measures. Had his mum really said that or had he dreamed it. NO, she'd said it but where had the idea come from. A look at the smile on Colm's face answered that one.

"Got you!" Colm laughed once Mrs. Williamson, had left them alone once more. "Sill not to worry as those clothes really suit you, you know."

"No they don't!" protested Jordan, lying through his teeth, and trying to avoid eye contact with his friend as the cool air blew around his now exposed thighs, shins, and shoulders. "Anyway I won't be wearing them for long."

"I wouldn't bet on that," Mrs. Williamson said, stepping back into the room still carrying the torn trousers that had caused all the problems along with a pair of garden sheers. "You're going to wear shorts from now on to stop this sort of thing happening to your trousers." She said, once more poking a finger through the tear. "Here, Colm you can do the honours."

"Excuse me." Colm asked.

"Use the sheers to turn his jeans into shorts, and make them short shorts at that just like a little boy should wear so he can't tear them anymore."

Frozen to the spot at the suggestion, Jordan could do little but watch open mouthed as his best friend, picked up his trousers, and snipped off the legs so that it fell onto the floor where it was soon joined by the undamaged leg.

"Good." Mrs Williamson said turning to her son, "Now you can wear them again and I don't have to pay to get them repaired."

"But, I can't–." Jordan said, until the words were driven out of him, as his mum slapped him across his exposed thighs.

"Don't talk back." She said, as he gasped and they all looked at the red mark that was quickly appearing on the once pale flesh. "Do as you are told, or else." She added.

Jordan sniffed, and managed a child-like, "Yes mum."

Satisfied, Mrs Williamson turned to the other boy in the room. The one who was smiling, although the smile vanished when he noticed she was looking at him: "Colm, seeing as you know all about this sort of thing you can make sure Jordan here does what he should do. Right."

Once more the woman left and silence fell over the room, Colm waiting until he heard the woman going downstairs before he looked up from the frayed edges of the trousers he'd just shortened, "Right then, let's see what you've got then!"

Walking over to the closest, Colm flung open the doors and had a quick rummage around, "Little boys should only wear shorts," he said, taking out all the pairs of long trousers he could find. "Actually it's a good job you've got so many pairs of shorts given that's all you're going to be wearing from now on."

"But–." Jordan started to say–

"No buts you heard your mum." Colm leaned in closer whispers, "Bet you thought it would be a great idea to put me to sleep and get me dressed up like a little cub scout didn't you! Well look at you now."

They both did. Looking over towards the mirror where Jordan's reflection came back at them in his shorts that were clearly a touch too tight and very juvenile looking even as they framed his groin, and buttocks like a second skin, while showing off nearly all of his long, lean thighs. No one over the age of ten would have been seen dead in shorts like that, so it was no surprise that Jordan looked about that age too, despite his being the same height as his apparently older friend.

"Can't people see you like that."

"Wait, you can't be serious, I can't go out like this." Jordan protested, even he would never have dared such a thing. Not in public but Colm was having none of it.

"You heard what your mum said, about you doing what you're told, or do I have remind you like I did last time."

Jordan shook his head but it was already too late as Colm was picking up a springy plastic ruler from his desk. "You can't!" he protested.

"Yes I can, you heard your mum, so drop your shorts and get over my lap for a spanking unless you want your mum to come up and do spank you."

That was the last thing Jordan wanted so, he wriggled himself out of the shorts once more, and got into the now familiar position over his friend's lap where it wasn't long before his boxers were being tugged down too.

"That's the sight I remember." Colm said, mostly to himself, as the bottom came into range.

WHACK!

Jordan's lower body jerked at the sudden shock of the blow falling across both his buttocks..

WHACK!

The second time he was struck he whimpered in pain from the blow.

WHACK!

The third time, he did both, jerking and whimpering.

WHACK!

The fourth time, and for all the time afterwards he did the same.

WHACK!

WHACK!

With each blow, Jordan's rear got redder and redder, and Colm felt the same tingle of excitement he had the first time.

WHACK!

WHACK!

When he was done, Colm leaned back with deep satisfaction, enjoying the spanking he'd just given and the erection it had caused inside his own jeans. "You have to learn to do as you are told, like a good little boy." He said softly. "Promise."

Sniffing loudly Jordan promised but Colm wasn't finished yet.

"You're just a naughty little boy who wears shorts. Go on say it."

This time it took a bit longer before Jordan repeated the words but eventually he did, albeit with an extra quiver in his voice that had little to do with the spanking he'd just had and a lot to do with the erection he was starting to get, as one of his deepest, darkest fantasies came true. "I'm a naughty little boys in shorts."

"Good, now that's sorted you can get dressed but, before you do, get rid of those boxers and put on something more in line with your new age will you."

Once Jordan was dressed again in his shorts, this time with the bikini briefs he'd worn as a cub scout underneath, the two boys set about with their work. Or rather Jordan did, Colm directing him about the room, fetching a couple of black bin bags from the landing, into which he tipped all his teenaged clothes. These were then tied up and left back out on the landing to be put into storage at a later date. In the meantime Jordan re-arranged his cupboards, so that the spaces previous occupied by his grown up clothes could once more be taken with juvenile items such as those he was currently wearing.

Occasionally during this operation Colm would spot something or other that he was fairly sure had once belong to his little brother, but he decided not to say anything about it for now, but he was sure Jonny would get a great laugh out of this mother-of-all-pranks he pulled off.

By the time they'd finished Jordan didn't have a single pair of long trousers left in his room and it finally dawned on him that he was now always going to be in short trousers for as long as his mother decided to keep him that way. And then there were the spankings. Not from his mother but from Colm. The last time, he'd felt his friend's erection pressing into his side as the ruler had struck his bottom over and over again, so he knew Colm had enjoyed it too. But, what else would his friend enjoy and want to do to him, now that he had the upped hand.

Chapter Four

For almost as long as he'd had his fantasies about being treated like a small boy, Jordan Williamson, had thought about being tied up. Of course those games were kept to himself, and he'd never asked anyone to help him with them. He just didn't dare. Yet, that never stopped him from trying to find out what it was like to be tied up.

He wondered now that Colm was had played the trick on him to keep him in short trousers, whether he could now get his friend to tie him up but, he had to make Colm think that it was his idea and that Jordan wasn't going to enjoy it, which of course he was. After all, he already knew that being tied up, by someone else was a hell of a lot more fun than tying himself up, which was all he had been able to do so far.

It wasn't easy, Jordan had discovered, to tie himself up effectively, which is why he'd come to place himself in situation where that didn't matter quite so much, like with the being trapped in the box. Once he'd tried to tie his wrists behind his back by pre-tying a slip knot in some rope that had the other end clasped in his dad's vice. Then he put his hands through the loop, and then stepping away so that the rope would tighten up. Of course the problem with that was the slip knot opened up as easily as it closed.

Jordan's next plan was tie a cloth in a small circle, put both wrists through, and then rotate one wrist to wind them around until it was tight and he couldn't actually just pull his hands out. Of course, he could just unwind his wrist again to get free but at least that took a little more time. This was successful and became his favourite for a few months apart from the time he discovered a roll of strong masking tape, that he could wind around his wrist so that he could neither pull nor twist his way free and would have to cut himself out. It wasn't the cheapest way to do it, so it wasn't something he did all that often preferring to use a more reusable method whenever possible. Which is why he bought the handcuffs.

He was probably the most nervous that he'd ever been that day he set off to travel clear across town, to the army surplus store. Blushing from the moment he entered the store, right until he got on the bus again to go home, he needn't have bother as no one gave him a second look.

Jordan was barely through his front door with his new purchase that day, before he had the handcuffs out of the bag and was first trying the little key in the lock and then putting the metal around his wrist, discovering that even using the key, when your hands are chained behind your back is a totally different thing to when they are in front. Yet practise makes perfect.

Soon, the handcuffs were alone in Jordan's secret collection as they were joined by several lengths of smooth, and yet strong chain, with some padlocks that Jordan had gone to great pains to make sure all used the same key. These were now needed as his games had moved beyond the simple act of handcuffing his wrists behind his back into something entirely more random than that.

Over time Jordan made up several fairly elaborate methods, to determine just how he was going to be tied up, so as to add some sort of surprise into an event that he was, after all, totally in control off. For this he'd written out nearly all of the options he had onto cards and once put into different categories he would pick one from each, at random, or sometimes by the spin of a dice. Anything that would make things seem less predictable. The cards would then decide what he was going to wear whilst he was tied up, if anything, and just how he would be tied, plus some extras like if there was going to be a gag, or some other element.

Most of the time Jordan played these games in the safety of his room or in the garage, and only when he was alone in the house, but on occasion he'd take that extra risk and play them in another part of the house, from where he would have to return to his room before he could unlock himself. Naturally for that he had to be able to be mobile which limited some of his options but that was all part of the game.

Other than the travelling games, the ones Jordan liked best were the trapped ones the simplest of which was similar to the old box game in that. The tying up didn't have to be complicated for this. Just a simply tying together of his ankles, with the chain between the handcuffs, knotted into the rope. Then Jordan would lay down on his belly, bend his knees so his bound feet were up behind his back and the handcuffs were in reach. A bit of fumbling later and the handcuffs would be locked around his wrists and that was all there was too it. Once that was done, he could roll about apparently helpless for as long as he wanted before finally fetching one of the keys he had nearby and letting himself go once more.

Another breakthrough happened when he had the idea to freeze one of the keys, so that he'd be trapped until the ice melted and could use the key. That, of course took a little more planning as he had put the key in a small cup, that also had a small bit of string hanging out of it, so he would be able to hang the key from somewhere. Experiments told Jordan that the ice would melt in between thirty and sixty minutes depending on how hot it was, and that was just about the right length of time he would have to himself to play his games. Or, if he used the bigger cup, nearly two hours, but there wasn't often he had that much time on his hands. Naturally he always had a safety key to hand that wasn't frozen, but that didn't matter.

In his room Jordan would get out his cards into separate piles. The first had a list of what he could wear, the next how he could be chained up. Both piles had been heavily shuffled before being laid out, so there would be no guessing as to what would happen when he picked the top one from each.

Turning over the first card he smiled as he saw the words SILVER SLIP, written in his own still childish hand on it.

A moment later Jordan had slipped out of the clothes he was wearing and was clad once more in the small silver coloured briefs with the slight blue flash on the thin band of cloth that went over his hips. These had been his favourite underwear even before he'd lost his long trousers and the boxer shorts that went with them, so even as near naked as they left him, Jordan felt strangely comfortable despite the lack of actually coverage.

Satisfied with the first of his choices, Jordan couldn't really say the same about the second one, which read STANDING TO PIPE. The wording was purposely vague so no one else would have known what it meant, but for the boy himself, as if he were standing rather than laying down, he wouldn't be able to masturbate until it was all over and the ice was melted enough so he could free himself. That though, was half the point. So it wasn't all bad.

With his cards having decided the location at the same time they chosen what he was going to do, Jordan, packed up the things he wasn't going to need back into his secret box, before taking those he was going to need, first down to the kitchen – this had to be done carefully given the tiny slip he was wearing and the large kitchen windows looking out over the garden – and then, with the frozen key added to his collection, he made his way to the basement.

Locking the basement door behind himself for that added bit of security, Jordan first tied the string coming from the frozen key to what he had called on his card a 'pipe' but which was, in reality, a support column for the house above. It was made of metal and had, at various stages, had a series of holes drilled into it, so things could be attached to it, as well as screws pushed into it. It was onto one of these that Jordan tied the sting, checking that, once he'd done so the block of ice containing the key, would be just about level with his chest.

Staying with the pillar, Jordan then took out a three foot length of chain and stepping up on to the tips of his toes, threaded the end through a hole in the pillar. A padlock was fixed into one end of the chain so that it wouldn't run all the way through the pillar, and would, for the time being, just hang there.

Next, Jordan sat down on the side of the box he used to lock himself in to, in order to tie his ankles together. For this he used another length of chain, fastening it around each ankle with separate padlocks, and leaving only the bare minimum of links between his feet so that he would only be able to shuffle around.

Even though there was no one to hear him in any case, Jordan decided on using a gag, and what could be better than a pair of the mini bikini briefs that he was now being 'forced' to wear. These he stuffed into his mouth, until his cheeks bulged out slightly, and used a bit of tape to hold them in place.

Finally, the under dressed fourteen year old, picked up the leather dog collar he'd found by accident in the road and had, at once realised its usefulness, considering it had not only a metal loop in the middle for the dog's lead and tags to be attached but also a way a lock could be fitted over the buckle to prevent it from coming off. These offered so many different uses, most of which Jordan had already performed including the one he was about to do this time.

Taking a small, foot long length of chain, Jordan locked one end of it to the collar's main loop, and using a second padlock, then attached the handcuffs to the other end. He then put the collar around his neck, buckling it until it was snug, but not too tight. The handcuffs hung down his back, and the buckle was at the front, making it easy for him to lock the fastening closed with the last of his padlocks. However, before he clicked the lock closed, he picked up the end of the chain hanging from the pillar and fastened that to the collar too. Then, all he had to do was reach his arms around behind him, so that they were almost folded behind him, and snap the handcuffs into place on his wrists.

Jordan was now trapped, by his own devices, as if he'd been captured, stripped and chained up, like a prisoner awaiting torture or a slave waiting to be sold. Due to the chain connecting his collar to the pipe just above his head, he was unable to sit down, or even crouch, although, he could still shuffle around the pipe for a few feet in either direction meaning, that when the time came that the ice had melted, he would be able to turn his back to the pipe and use the key to free himself. Until then though, he was well and truly stuck right where he was. Unable to reach the straining tent in the front of his bikini briefs.

CLANG! CLANG!

Colm Timpson heard the strange sound the moment he let himself into his friend's house with the key Mrs. Williamson had given him so he could check up on how things were going.

CLANG! CLANG!

He stopped listening, trying to work out where the sounds were coming from. At first he thought it was outside, but as listened he realised that he'd only heard them since he'd closed the front door behind him.

CLANG! CLANG!

Moving to the foot of the stairs, Colm was about to call out to his friend, when he realised two things. The first being that the sounds were coming from the basement and the second, being that given his friend was home alone, then it had to be him making the noise. So if he wanted to find him then he would just have to follow the sounds and there he'd be. The only thing was, when he reached the basement door it was locked. From the inside. Finally Colm broke his silence. "Hey, Jordan, you down there?"

There was no answer other than a familiar one: CLANG! CLANG!

"What you doing down there?" Colm asked but, again he didn't get an answer. "You know you're locked in don't you?"

The second question was a silly one, given that the door was locked from the inside, but clearly something was up, but what? And how was he going to find out though a locked door.

The answer to the second problem Colm already had, right there in his hands. Mrs. Williamson's keys although it took him a few minutes to realise it but much less time to actually go down into the basement and see something that surprised him, although not, perhaps, as much as it should have.

"What's going on here then?" Colm asked with a chuckle in his voice, even though everything that was going on was right in front of his face. There stood his best friend, dressing in nothing but a tiny bikini brief, standing in the middle of the basement, with his ankles chained together, his arms handcuffed behind his back and to a dog collar that was, itself, chained to a central pillar. What's more, as soon became apparent, Jordan couldn't answer him, due to the tape covering his mouth. Not that this stopped Colm from asking more questions.

"So, I'm guessing your parents didn't do this to you, so who did?"

Then the penny dropped.

"Hang on, the door was locked from the inside, so you much have done that which means–. Oh shit– which means that you did this to yourself, doesn't it."

Jordan, confessed in the only way he could, by dropping his head down onto his chest, avoiding his friend's eyes and the questions that followed.

"And now I bet you're stuck aren't you?"

Apparently ashamed of the way he'd been caught, Jordan turned his back on his friend, displaying the handcuffs, and how they were chained up to his collar, behind his back. In doing so, he also blocked Colm's view of the key that was hanging from the pillar directly in front of him and which, he was making no attempt to either reach, or use.

"So," Colm said a few minutes later, "Do you want me to let you go, or should I leave you here for your mum to find, what do you think?"

"Um, Um!" came the muffled reply from beneath the tape covering the lower half of the bound boy's face, his head moving from side to side, in a frantic motion.

"I'll take that as a 'no' then shall I?" Jordan laughed, his finger tips trailing themselves across the back of his friend's thigh, only to be snatched away a moment later when an idea hit him.

Abruptly Colm left the room, and went back upstairs where Jordan could hear him moving rapidly around the house, for a few minutes before he returned holding something in front of his face.

FLASH!

Jordan was momentarily blinded as the digital camera bathed the dimly lit basement in clean, bright white light. The bound quickly closing his eyes, before the camera flashed again, and again. Colm taking numerous pictures of his helpless body from several angles.

When Jordan opened his eyes again, he found the camera was now held up in front of his face, with the back towards him. Colm's fingers working the controls scowling through the photos he'd just taken, displaying them so their main feature could view himself, helplessly chained in the basement. The images being so clear and well defined that Jordan felt his willy throb in his bikini from them.

"Right, now that the scene has been stored for eternity, I think it's time that I did something about it, don't you."

Putting the camera down, Colm looked over the various bondage his friend was in, before selecting to start with the chain going though the pillar first. Reaching up for the padlock that prevented it from passing through the steelwork, he pulled it down until it was at eye level, apparently to give it a good look. In doing so, he naturally reduce the slack on Jordan's side, so the bound boy had no option but to shuffle his feet forward until his front was pressed up against the post.

Of course, if Jordan hadn't gagged himself then he would have been able to tell Colm that the key for that lock, like the others, was now trapped between his body and the steel post. However, as it wasn't Colm's intention to remove the padlock, that didn't really matter. Instead, Colm took a link of the chain just behind the lock, and hooked in onto a nearby screw that poked out of the metalwork. Ensuring Jordan stayed right where he was.

Once more, Colm picked up the camera and fired off the flash a couple more times so that Jordan would close his eyes. This time thought, he didn't really want the pictures he was creating, just wanted to misdirect his friend, while he picked up an item he'd earlier seen amongst the few tools that Mr. Williamson kept in the basement.

The ruler wasn't like the standard school issue ruler both the boys used at school, made from plastic but was an older, wooden one, that Colm continued to hide behind his back as he stepped up to Jordan's rear, and with his other hand grabbed hold of the back of the bikini briefs.

Instantly, he felt the hand on his underwear, Jordan's eyes snapped open, and his body tensed but it was already too late by then, as Colm's hand snatched upward, dragging the waist of his briefs, halfway up his back, until he had a wedgie like no other.

Thankfully the material the bikini was made from, was good and strong so was able to take nearly all Jordan's body weight as he was very nearly suspended by his pants, that quickly became even briefer than they had been. The section of silver material that had once covered, Jordan's buttocks, completely vanished, disappearing into his crack, until his entire rear end was on display, which was, of course, exactly what Colm wanted.

SMACK!

The ruler landed, neatly, across both the newly bared buttocks at once, where a bright red outline was soon making itself known, on a body that had become deathly still from the moment of impact.

SMACK!

Another blow landed, directly below the first one, and this time, Jordan did react. His body thrusting forward, as if to get away from the blow, only there was the small matter of the steel pillar in front of him.

SMACK!

The third was higher than the first, but got the same reaction as the second. As did the fourth

SMACK!

Jordan could feel the key that could get him released pressing into his stomach but that wasn't what he was most focused on. That was further down.

SMACK!

Each and every time, ruler paid a fiery visit to his unprotected buttocks, the force of the blow caused his hips to push forward, which, in turned, would press his mid section tight against the pillar. Well, not so much all his mid section as one part of it. His erection.

SMACK!

The blows bringing a stinging pain to his buttocks, also therefore bringing a much sharper, more pleasant sensation to his front. One that wasn't going to last for much longer.

SMACK!

Then it happened. Jordan, silently climaxed. Well not all that silently as the shaking of his body made the chains rattle, and his cries of sexual release, despite being muffled by the gag, were still fairly obvious for what they were as they also signalled an end to the spanking.

"You liked that didn't you?" Colm asked, himself a little breathless, if not just from the physicality of what he'd just been doing.

Releasing the chain from where he'd hooked it, Colm allowed Jordan to step away from the post, but only so he could, take another picture of the front of the bikini briefs that was now turned almost translucent from the juices his friend had produced. But that wasn't all he noticed.

"Shit you had the key all the time." Colm laughed, as yet another penny dropped, and he snatched the key from where it had been hanging on the post, only to be further surprised at how cold it felt.

"So," Colm asked as he started to release his friend, finally from his bondage, "I bet you want to do this again don't you?"

Jordan still couldn't answer, but then he really didn't have to for they both already knew the answer to that one.

Chapter Five

A few days later and the two boys were once more at the Williamson house. Mrs. Williamson, made them lunch, during which time the pair of them behaved as they always had done, even though their current clothing parked them out as so very different. For while Colm sat there at the table being as overly polite as he dared without it sounding false, Jordan was once more dressed down in clothes more suited to someone four, five or perhaps six years younger than he actually was. On this occasion, it he was in yellow. Bright yellow.

A short sleeve t-shirt, emblazoned with an even more childish cartoon character, struggled to keep his stomach covered, whilst straining around his teenager shoulders. The 'play' shorts, as they were called, were a slightly darker yellow, but were every bit as short and small as the shirt was and, like the shirt, they also struggled to contain everything that was inside them. Unlike modern shorts that were hemmed over the hips, these had their join running from front to back, directly down the centre, and it was this that Jordan found the most uncomfortable, as it not only dug into his buttocks, but also caused his nuts to become rather annoyingly separated in front. Both things, he was only too aware were perfectly visible to all those who saw them. Not that it was mentioned. Obviously.

The meal continued with the conversation fleeting back and forth across the table, largely ignoring and ignored by Jordan, as he played with his food, and otherwise made little headway with anything he was doing, as he was just happy that his friend had come back, after he'd discovered just what sort of things could make Jordan's underpants all sticky.

After the meal, Colm volunteered Jordan to clean up the plates, while his mother got ready to go out, after which the two of them would be left alone in the house, with, naturally Colm in charge.

Finished with the dishes, Jordy found his friend sitting on his own, in the living room and at once attacked. Not in a vicious way, but as he'd been doing for years. The two friends, never normally needing an excuse to get into a play fight, only now their relationship had changed. As he was going to find out, sooner rather than later.

"Your mum's coming Jordy," Colm hissed, after a few minutes, using the younger version of Jordan's name much to the delight of the other boy, who, in the time honoured fashioned, jumped from where they'd been on the floor to sit on the sofa, as if nothing had happened, just as Mrs. Williamson entered the room.

"Okay, boys I'm going out now." She then turned to Colm, "Sorry we couldn't do your little shopping trip today, but we'll get to it as soon as I can." Then, when Colm nodded, his understanding, she turned to her own son, "You behave for your friend you understand, as he's in charge, and you have to do everything he says, or he'll punish you, understand."

"Yes, mum!" Jordan replied in the sort of sing-song, voice that a nine-year-old should be ashamed off.

Mrs. Williamson gave a half shrug, which was returned by Colm, and then left. No sooner had she done so than Jordan launched himself at his Colm, who, caught unaware, was sent flying, landing with rather a hefty thump on the floor.

"So that's how it's going to be, is it." Colm's voice became raised as he spoke, and then he counter attacked.

The play fight that followed only lasted a few minutes, as despite them previously being evenly matched, Jordan was hampered by his too tight clothes, while Colm in his baggy jeans and t-shirt was free to twist every way he wanted. Plus he was covered against somewhat cold, hard relentless surface of the hard floor. Needless to say, the fight finished, with both the boys sweating, which was something Jordy was more than a little conscious off given that his head was now trapped beneath his friend's armpit.

"Got you now." Colm announced, applying a little more pressure to his locked arms, "Now you're my prisoner."

At the words, Jordy sort of went a little limp, and not just because the fight had been knocked out of him, but due to the idea of being a prisoner to his more normally dressed peer. "What are you going to do with me?" he asked, through panted breaths.

"Take you to my prison."

The answer came so fast that it was clear Colm had been thinking about this even before it happened, yet Jordy didn't question that, or the direction he was soon being frog marched. Down into the basement where he was finally turned loose.

Thrown sideways by the headlock, it took Jordy a few moments to right himself, which gave Colm just enough time to remove his tee shirt and wipe the sweat from his brow. "Where are those handcuffs and chains you had last time I was here?" he asked.

Jordy swallowed the lump that came into his throat and crossed his legs to hide another lump, reducing himself to pointing to the bared box, where he had left his tie up kit from the last time he'd used it.

Smiling to himself Colm helped himself to both sets of handcuffs, and, as an apparent afterthought some short length of rope too. "Sit in the middle of the floor."

A little disappointed not to be tied to the post, after last time, Jordy did as he was told, with a lot of emotion running through his body. A mixture of excitement, mixed with a touch of fear at what was going to happen.

Taking one of Jordy's wrists, Colm snapped a handcuff into place with a satisfying click of metal on metal. This though didn't stop him from pushing the cuffs that little bit tighter, before he attached them to the boy's other wrist with his hands in front of his body. Not that they stayed there for long.

The second pair of handcuffs became shackles for Jordy's ankles, but only after he had been told to put his arms down, so that his previously chained hands were under his knees. Colm using one of the small padlocks to make sure they stayed there too. Locking the chain from the two sets of handcuffs to each other, so that in effect Jordy's ankles and wrists were all locked together behind his shins. But Colm wasn't finished.

Selection one of the lengths of rope, he further tied each of Jordy's arms to his legs. The boy's biceps being pressed against the outside of his thighs, where they were bound in rope, before being clinched off.

By the time Colm had finished, Jordy was sitting in the middle of the floor slightly hunched over as if he was trying to tie his shoe laces, only with his hands at his heels, rather than on top of his feet. His arms seemingly wrapping themselves around his own bare thighs. His shirt riding up his back and his shorts riding down, to show a the small of his back, and the start of his crack, while in front, hidden by the angle of his own body, his erection throbbed inside the twin prison of his tight shorts and even tighter bikini briefs beneath.

Standing to check his handiwork, the sweat dripped from Colm's forehead, as he told Jordy to see if he could get loose and asking if he was comfortable, almost in the same breath, giving the boy no real chance to answer either question before he turned for the stairs only for Jordy's words to bring him back again.

"Man you make a lot of noise for a little kid, Jordy," he laughed, his hand clamping over his friend's mouth. "We'll have to do something about that, in case the neighbours think I'm murdering you, or something."

The neighbours, both boys knew, were as deaf as posts, so there was no real danger to that yet still Colm picked up the single sock that had remained in the laundry basket, and rolled it into a ball. "Open wide!" he said.

Without thinking twice about it, Jordy opened his mouth as wide as he could, allowing his friend to stuff as much of the large, sports sock as he could into his mouth, until his jaws were stretched so far apart that they were already starting to ache. Another length of cord was then used to hold the sock effectively in place, yet Colm wanted to see how well it worked, which he did in a most unexpected way.

Reaching down, under Jordy's arm, Colm pulled up his friend's tight t-shirt as high as he could. Pushing his fingers in further, he managed to locate what he was looking for on one the side of the chest and pinched.

At the first sharp pain he'd ever felt in his right nipple, Jordy let out the biggest yelp he could, only, the gag worked perfectly and instead of the scream he'd thought he made, the only sound that was heard was so heavily muffled as to be hardly worth a mention. And, at exactly the same time, Jordy's erection, issued a small stream of pre-cum into his shorts.

Now satisfied that his plan had worked, Colm backed away from his prisoner, to lean against the wall on the other side of the basement from where he could keep an eye on the young boy tied and gagged in the middle of the floor. He too appeared to be breathing a little heavily but although his jeans had started to sag enough to show the top waistband of the boxer shorts he wore beneath, there was still enough material to cover his own erection without it being too obvious. However, what he didn't realise is that, sitting on the floor, Jordy, had a more direct view, so could just about make out, that something, long and stiff, was moving around inside those jeans, whenever Colm took a step.

"Time for a break." Colm suddenly announced. Adding with a laugh, "For me that is anyway."

From his chained position on the floor, Jordy watched his friend going up the stairs, and listened while he made his way to the downstairs toilet, at the top of the basements steps. In the silence he was able to listen as Colm urinated – after a small pause to get his erection to go down – and then flushed. The sounds of the running water however, blocking out Colm's next movements, although Jordy was soon able to work those out once his peer returned to the basement carrying a drink with a spark in his eye. "Comfortable on the hard floor?" he asked.

Honestly, Jordy shook his head, the thing yellow shorts and briefs little protection for his bottom against the cold stone slabs of the basement floor.

"Okay then, let's do something about that shall we."

Colm moved behind his friend, and put his hands into Jordy's armpits from where he was able to lift him up. Not right up, although that's what he apparently attempted to do. Instead, Jordy proved to heavy and slipped out to the side, where he ended up laying on his side, until once more Colm picked him up. He didn't however returning him to his previous sitting position but one, that had him almost completely the other way up.

Surprisingly well balanced, Jordy ended up with his shins, feet and knees flat on the floor, although most of his weight was now resting more on his shoulders, and the back of his head. His actual head now tucked underneath himself where his hands had been. His hands, of course were still wrapped around the back of his thighs, only they were now visible but not the most visible, as that honour was down to his buttocks which were now stuck up right in the air as the highest point of his body.

"That's a load off your bum ain't it." Colm laughed, his hand tracing across the rear of the yellow shorts, hooking briefly into the exposed crack which, strangely was the point when Jordy realised just how vulnerable he was, and that, if he wanted to, Jordy could do just about anything he wanted to him, including raping him. And strangely Jordy wasn't so sure that would have been a bad thing. Only it wasn't what was on the teenager's mind.

"I think it's time for a little spanking, don't you Jordy?"

Jordan didn't answer of course, and not just due to the gag. Instead his mind was fully occupied with the way his shorts and briefs were being dragged down to expose his bare buttocks.

For the next ten minutes Jordy's bottom received a beating from an item he couldn't see but was certainly able to feel. Despite this not being the first time he'd been spanked, the position he was now in, adding to the numbing his bottom had had from being sat on the cold floor, seemed to make his rear more sensitive than it usually was.

At the start, the blows weren't even all that hard, but soon there were. Colm's strong arm coming right through into Jordy's bottom with a thud that went right through the upturned boy's body with a sound that echoed around the basement.

All in all around forty or fifty strikes were made and by the end Jordy was both crying and his bottom was on fire once more. Tears ran down his face, dripping onto the stop floor directly in front of his face.

When it was all over, Jordy was allowed to rest where he was for a few more minutes before he was rolled back into the seating position. His shorts and briefs still rolled down so that his hot bare bottom could be cooled by the cold floor that was, by now a relief.

Suddenly something small and metal landed by the side of Jordy. He looked down. It was the keys to the handcuffs.

"There you go." Colm said, heading for the door. "You should be able to let yourself go before your mum comes home. If not I'll leave a note in the kitchen so she knows where to find you. Have fun."

Chapter Six

Jordan 'Jordy' Williamson, was highly conscious of his bare knees and thighs, as he was lead way from his mum's car by his best friend Colm Timpson. The two boys had been dropped off at an out of town shopping centre, early on the next Saturday, right at the time than that the shops were about to open. Thankfully, from Jordy's point of view, there was no one his age around, which was just as well given what he was wearing.

Both the boys were wearing bright red shirts, but while Colm's was baggy, and hung down to his thighs, beneath the unbuttoned shirt he wore over the top, Jordy's was clearly a few sizes too small, and ended right above the top of his shorts. Naturally, the shorts lived up to their name too, being very short, and white, with just a hint of a blue strip over the hips. The colour apparently making them even more obvious than otherwise, and, as with the yellow ones, the front-to-back hem, separating out Jordy's buttocks, and partitioning his genitals in a way that made him walk slightly bow legged.

Due to their similar shirts, the boys looked like brother, just not the twins they had been taken for when they'd been younger. Now, Colm looked easily several years older than his peer, with his pale legs on display for all to see. This was actually the first time Jordy had been out in public in such short shorts and yet try as he could to pretend that it was a natural thing to do, the continuous sensation of air blowing around his legs, kept reminding him, of just what he looked like.

Colm led them, not into the main store about around the side where an arcade of older style shops still continued to do business. One of these was a traditional male outfitters, and it was into that one, that the boys went. Bypassing row upon row of adults suits and through to the back where there were slightly smaller versions of the same, until they ended up a the Boys sections, where they came face to face with clothing designed to be worn by the boys attending the local prep school.

"Can I help you two?" asked a stern looking shop assistant, who couldn't seem to take his eyes off Jordy's bare legs.

"A new school uniform for my little brother please." Colm asked in his best middle class accent.

"Erm," the shop assistant said, once more looking Jordy up and down, "I'm not sure if we have them in his size."

"He's not as big as he looks." Colm said with a totally straight face, before suggesting that they could try on any size they had.

Nodding in a slightly bemused way the assistant made a round of the shelves and hangers collecting together all the items a youngster attending the prep school would need, including, the shorts which, he once more said he thought would be too small but Colm had other ideas.

"try them on." He told Jordy who was still at little confused as to why they were there given that he had some shorts like this at home from his cub scout uniform. And they fit. Sort off.

"Go on, try them on." Colm repeated, "Or do you want a smack."

Jordy blushed, but the assistant was fascinated, "Are you allowed to do that, young man?"

"Of course. It's the only way to keep little kids like him in line, isn't it?"

"Too true." The assistant agreed, holding out the shorts towards Jordy who was left caught between the rock of having yet another spanking – he wasn't sure if Colm would spank him in public but didn't want to risk it – and the idea of changing his trousers in front of a complete stranger, something which, as a teenager, he would never have done. Yet, he reasoned, he was now a small boy, and small boys should worry about such things. Nonetheless his fingers were soft and clumsy as he went through the motions of peeling down his white shorts and stepping into the offered grey ones, all the while painfully aware that he was being closely watched. Then, to make matters worse someone else came into the shop.

It was a mother who was, making an early start on back to school clothes for her son who was, to Jordy's mortification, walking along side her and whose eyes flew open when he saw the talker boy standing there in a bright red shirt and grey shorts.

"Mum," he said, "I don't have to wear shorts to school do I?"

"No, of course not dear." The woman replied turning to Jordy, "Only little kids wear shorts, you know that."

"Good!" the lad sighed, which wouldn't have been so bad had he not been no more than eight or nine, and more than a head shorter than Jordy.

After that exchange, Jordy wanted to leave the shop but couldn't as he had to wait for Colm to finish his shopping and then to look around the shop further which he did so by parading up and down, purposely going passed the mother and son, as often as he could. All the time the small boy looked, and sniggered.

The day didn't get better once Jordy got home as not only did Colm tell him to keep the school shorts on, but to add to it the rest of the items they had bought. So along with the grey school shorts, Jordy was soon wearing a crisp white shirt, buttoned all the way to the neck, with a deep red tie fastened tightly around his neck, and hanging down the front. Long grey socks went on his feet, and were pulled all the way up to just below his knee, where they could be turned down to show the red band of the school colours around the top. Black slip on shoes finished the look, as the blood red blazers had proved to be far too expensive for the budget the boys had been given to spend.

And if that wasn't bad enough, Colm then suggest that, as he was dressed for it then perhaps Jordy should get down and do some schoolwork which was a suggestion that was probably the worst one Jordy had heard that day. Like any teenager Jordy, and Colm for that matter, had never been forced to sit down and do his homework. Instead he just did it whenever he could, often on the way to school the morning it was due. So naturally he protested.

"Oh have you done the assignment already?" Colm asked, already knowing the answer.

"No, of course not," came the reply which was, if anything, honest if a little blunt as was soon to be pointed out.

"That is no excuse, from now on you are to do your homework on the day you get it, when you get in from school, understand?"

Recognising the tone, Jordy's head dropped in submission.

"That's better but just in case you forget in future I think I'll give you a taste of what will happen if you don't do your homework, come with me."

Jordy was a little dumbfounded. He had no idea what, if anything he'd done wrong, and wasn't entirely sure what Colm meant, but all the same he followed his friend into the living room where his friend sat down and, patted his lap.

Suddenly Jordy realised that he was about to put over his friend's knee and have his bottom smacked like a little kid. It was both humiliating and yet exciting at the same time. He wasn't even sure what to do and yet, he found himself, submissively bending over Colm's lap with his face and hands arched down towards the floor, and his shorts clad bottom presented for punishment.

"Never leave your work until the last minute." Colm told him as his hand rose and then fell.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Heavy hands landed powerful blows onto the seat of Jordy's shorts. The impact great enough to knock the air from the boy.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

"Your work is your priority!" came the fatherly advice along with more spanking.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Colm's hand alternating between the buttocks that were neatly separated by the hem of the small shorts, making them into two separate targets instead of one single one.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

"Well, do you understand or not?"

"Yes!" Jordy gasped between blows.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

"Good because I'll be seeing that you do."

SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP!

The sound changed as Colm took aim not at the buttocks but at the unprotected thighs that emerged from the bottom of the shorts, where the skin was, as Jordy found, a lot more sensitive. So sensitive that he yelps at each and every one of the four that landed.

Kneeling over his friend's lap, having his legs and bottom slapped, made Jordy feel very humble indeed, and yet he was disappointed when the spanking stopped and he was finally allowed to stand up. The spanking, for all the stinging and red marks it had caused hadn't made him cry, something which Jordy was silently proud off. Not that Colm had noticed as he'd just had an idea and he sent Jordy upstairs to get his homework.

By the time the short trousered boy returned to the living room, Colm had made a few changes in the layout, and now the large wooden chair that normally was normally at the foot of the dinning room table had been pulled around to the head of it. This left it in the middle of the room, somewhat obviously.

"Lay your homework out on the table, and I'll be back in a minute." Colm instructed.

Once more Jordy did as he was told, placing his exercise books at the front of the table with his text books towards the back. Colm still hadn't returned when he'd finished doing that, so he spent the rest of the time, arranging his pens and pencils, around the sides of his books, rather like he was laying the table for dinner.

Colm returned carrying some things that Jordy recognised at once, and not just from the jiggling noise of chain on chain either. "Right sit in the chair."

"What are you going to do?" asked the excited and slightly worried short trousered boy.

"Well seeing that you can't be trusted to sit down on your own and do your homework then I'm going to fix it so that you've got no choice, but to stay seated until you've finished."

"Oh!" was all Jordy said to that, although given that he say down in the chair, only to jump up as soon as his recently spanked bottom came into contact with the hard wooden seat. "Can I have a cushion?"

"No, just sit down, and make sure you sit all the way back, and sit up straight!"

Reluctantly, and somewhat tentatively, Jordy eased himself back onto the seat, and then all the way back so that his knees were at the front and his bottom, back and neck, where lined up on the wooden struts that made up the chair back. In doing so, his feet were lifted just clear of the floor, meaning all his body weight came to rest on his buttocks and thighs. Neither of which was particularly comfortable given what had just happened to them. Not that Jordy complained this time.

"Arms out." Instructed Colm, "Make like an airplane."

More than a little baffled by the instruction, Jordy did as he was told, but then understood, as once his arms were held out of the way, Colm poked the end of a belt through the rungs of the chair, around Jordy's waist, and then back through the chair on the other side. This was then buckled down, tight to so that Jordy could no longer slide forward on the chair.

Two further belts followed. these being threaded through the chair from under Jordy's armpits, across his chest, and then over the shoulder on the other side, but before they were buckled, Colm took the time to make sure that Jordy's school tie wasn't caught up in them and was still able to flap free across his chest despite his chest having nowhere to go.

A final belt was used to keep Jordy's thighs down to the chair seat in a similar fashion to a car seat belt. It passing around, underneath the seat, and then up over his lap. It, like all the ones around behind his back, was buckled in a place that would make it highly impossible, for Jordy to unbuckle it, even if he had such an inclination, which, he didn't.

Kneeling, beside the chair, Colm pulled out a set of the handcuffs with the smallest amount of chain between them, and snapped them closed around the bottom of the long grey school socks. This Jordy thought was a mistake as the ankle shackles with their longer connection chain remained, but, he didn't say anything. At least not yet. He just wanted to see where Colm was going with this, as already his friend had produced a length of rope and was tying it around the short chain between the cuffs on his ankles.

This rope, was then threaded back under the chain, to the top support bar, just under the seat itself, where Colm would eventually tie it off, but not before he'd shortened it enough so that Jordy's bound ankles were pulled back beneath the seat of the chair, with not even his toe able to make contact with the carpet beneath him.

"Lean forward and open your mouth!"

Jordy knew what was coming so had no problem with doing so, allowing the balled up cloth of his own bikini underpants to be stuffed into his mouth, and then sealed there, with several runs of duct tape that not only covered his mouth but went all the way around the back of his head as well, totally silencing him.

"Hold out your hands!"

Finally, as his metal clicked around his wrists did Jordy realise that Colm hadn't made a mistake at all. The shackles that were now on his wrists, had more than enough chain between them so that he would be able to move his hands around, but only in front of his body. Strapped to the chair as he was there was no way he would be able to get even one of his hands to any of the belt buckles, or the rope that held his feet up from the ground.

"Right that should get you sorted. Now you can get on with your homework."

Colm's words were a little premature as before Jordy could do that, Colm had to work the chair closed to the table where the books were waiting for him. However, once the short trousered school boy was in position he was stuck there.

Unable to move anything but his arms, felt odd to Jordy, not least because this was almost the total opposite of everything he'd previous thought about being tied up. Then it was always the hands that got tied up, not everything else. Yet, all the same, he was clearly bound and stuck where he was. It was such a brilliant idea that he almost wished he'd had it first.

An hour or so later, Jordy – who up until that moment had been happily doing his homework as instructed – was startled to hear a key in the front door. His mum was home. And that panicked him. What would she think when she saw him all tied up, like he was. Yet, despite all the heavily muffled protests he made in Colm's direction, his friend didn't seem the slightest bit worried although he did get up from where he'd been watching the TV in the lounge and went to welcome Mrs. Williamson home.

"Where's Jordan?" Jordy heard his mum ask his friend, but instead of telling her he was upstairs, Colm told the truth.

The door opened, from the corner of his eye, Jordy could see his mother peering in, at him. "Why is he tied up?" she asked, no unreasonably.

"It's the only way I could make sure he did his homework." Came the reply, honest in its own way.

Mrs. Williamson, looked at her son, tightly bound to the heavy chair her husband normally sat in whenever the family had a meal together at the table, for a few minutes. Then surprised her son one more time but turning to Colm and saying; "Well, if this is what it takes, then this is what you have to do, I guess. You're in charge."

After saying her piece, Mrs. Williamson left to go to the kitchen to make a start on dinner while Colm returned to the TV and Jordy, just remained where he was, with one thought going around his head. That his mother had now, more or less, given his best friend permission to tie him up, whenever he wanted to. That added to the way Colm could already tell him what to wear, and punish him for disobeying him, more or less meant that now, Colm had total control over anything, and everything Jordy did. Soon, though he wouldn't be the only one either.

Chapter Seven

A few days later and, upon returning home from the local shop, Jordy was surprised to find two boys were apparently waiting for him, sitting on the front step. There were both around twelve years old, and dressed in jeans, which made them appear, at least to be slightly older than he was given he was wearing an old fashioned soccer kit, in a light blue, that had white trim around V-neck and the cuffs. His shorts, were, of course short, with a white line running down the hips, towards an inverted v-split in the hem to allow him to walk. Long, woollen socks were pulled up to just below his knees to complete the look of a little boy soccer player.

"What's up!" said the blond boy, a pristine white vest, beneath his open checked shirt, showing off the gold chain around his neck. His blond hair, gelled up into spikes on top of his head, above his freckled face.

"Hi, Jonny!" Jordy said to his best friend's little brother.

"It's Jonathan now!" the youngster said through slightly gritted teeth.

"Yeah, right, sorry." Back tracked the teenager, hearing a touch of something he didn't like in the boy's voice, although it was quickly gone.

"This is my mate Jeremy!" Jonathan said a moment later

"Hi!" the other boy said, his slender, almost wiry body inside a red t-shirt whose sleeves had been roughly cut off at the shoulders. His face lacking the freckles of his friend, although he had enough ears for the pair of them. The tight, short crew cut, he'd been given doing nothing to help hide them either.

"Anyway," Jonathan continued, "we just wondered if you wanted to play with us, seeing that Colm is away this week."

Jordy didn't need reminding that his friend had been sent up to his grandparents for a week, and that he'd been left alone in the meantime. Still, at the end of it, when Colm returned, he'd promised a surprise for Jordy, and that was pretty much the only thing that was stopping Jordy from missing him completely. Well that and the occasional bout of either self-bondage, and/or self-spanking.

"You're home alone, ain't you?"

The question stunned Jordy from his thoughts, and he forgot to lie. "Yeah!"

"Great then, so why don't me and Jeremy come inside, and then the three of us can do some stuff together, what do you say?"

Jordy's natural instincts was to say no of course, as fourteen year old, like he was, didn't want to spend time with younger boys but, then, he was pretending to be a younger boy so, in that case, that would make these two older than him. Wouldn't it? The thoughts confused him, and by the time he'd decided that it didn't matter it was already too late. He had his keys out from where he'd tucked it into his socks – the soccer shorts had no pockets – and the three of them were going inside.

When the arrived in the living room, Jonathan asked a question that shocked, the older boy: "So, Jordan, how much do you wank?"

Jordy didn't know what to say, so just laughed.

"Go on, you can tell us we all do it, even little Jerry here."

"Shut up!" the skinny boy said, blushing a little, not that anyone was really paying him any attention.

"So, Jordan, how often do you do it?"

Jordy shrugged this one away, but it didn't get him any peace.

"Go on, I bet you do it so often that it's all red all the time, ain't it. So when was the last time you did it?"

Just before he went to the shops, was the truthful answer but Jordy still didn't feel like saying anything. Somewhat confused by the interrogation he suddenly found himself enduring from his best friend's little brother.

"When you do it," Jonathan continued, "So you swallow your stuff afterwards?"

Jordan's mouth hung open in surprise. Like every boy is age – or any age – he never told anyone that he touched himself down there, let alone that he masturbated at least once a day, and he certainly hadn't told anyone that he'd tasted his own cum, and wasn't about to now either. Jonathan was just being too cheeky for words, just like he'd always been in the past, and like in the past, Jordan was going to have to do something about it.

"Look," he said, ignoring the questions completely, "I've got things to do so you two had probably better leave."

For a moment nothing happened and then, slowly, Jonathan turned to Jordan and said, "Bollocks we are. Cos we know all about you JORDY boy, and we don't have to do nothing you tell us."

Naturally Jordan was startled at the use of his younger name, and didn't say anything which left his young guest room to explain what was going on.

"Yeah, that's right, we had a look around Colm's room while he was gone and we found all these pictures of the things that he's made you do, and now you're going to do that stuff for us."

Pulling himself together as fast as he could, Jordan attempted to laugh off what was being said, saying the photos were just a joke he and Colm had put together, and the two younger lads had better be going and not say anything about what they'd found unless they wanted Colm to find out about them going through his stuff.

It all sounded very convincing. It just didn't work.

"Okay!" Jonathan said after yet another pause. "Here's what's going to happen either you come over here and drop your shorts and I spank you, or else, me and Jeremy will strip you naked ourselves, then spank you, and then toss your naked, red arse out onto the street until your mum comes home. What do you think of that?"

Jordan's heart started to race. He could hardly believe what he was hearing. Little Jonny Timpson was threatening to spank him. He couldn't be serious could he? He had to find out. "If you did that my mum would call the police."

"Oh no she won't." Jonathan said smugly, "She didn't all the times that Colm has spanked you has she, so she won't when we do it neither. Plus, if you tell her then some of the photos Colm has got might accidentally end up on the school notice board."

Finally Jordan realised that the twelve year old wasn't kidding as it wouldn't be the first time that an embarrassing photo had made it's way to the notice board in the middle of the school and, the last one had been of a first year boy wearing a mini skirt that did little to hide his embarrassment. A boy, that is, who would have been in the same year as Jonathan and Jeremy. Had they put that photo there? Suddenly it seemed likely.

"So," pushed Jonathan for an answer, "What's it going to be? Are you going to choose or do, we have to choose for you?"

It wasn't a hard choice to make. Jordan after all had been spanked before, often, so that wasn't so much of a problem. No the problem was that these two boys were both younger then him. What if they made him cry from spanking him. How embarrassing would that be, especially as he would have to face one of the boys whenever he went over to Colm's house, and both of them at school. Yet the other option was worse. The boys may have been younger and slightly shorter than him, but he wasn't a fighter, and if the things Colm had said about Jonathan were true, the twelve year old certainly was. And if he was, then his mate probably was as well. In other words, in a fight, Jordan would be certain to come of worse, and that would end up with him being outside, naked, where everyone could see his bare spanked bum for several hours. No, he only really had the one option and that was to keep his humiliation inside, in private.

"Knew you would." Jonathan's flicking smile gave away that he hadn't been quite as sure of the outcome as he made out, yet that was the only time he let it show. "Come over here, so I can pull your shorts down."

Slowly, silently and feeling very much the younger boy, Jordy walked forward until he was standing beside where the blond boy was sitting.

The instant he arrived Jonathan's hands went for the waist of the shorts, and pulled them down, along with his underpants. His soccer shirt, like all his shirts, ended at his waist so everything he had was on display to the cruel staring eyes.

"Shit, he ain't got no pubes yet." Jerry laughed, pointing but Jonathan didn't say anything, or even act surprised, he was too busy making sure Jordy was lowered down over the knees of his jeans ready for his spanking.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Jonathan didn't waste any time getting started. He had none of the technique of his big brother, but what he did have was a well muscled shoulder, and a lot of enthusiasm.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

For Jordan the shock of the first slaps was overwhelming, snapping him back to the reality of his situation, but when he tried to squirm from Jonathan's lap, the younger boy, just tightened his grip with his spare arm around Jordy's waist, and kept on going.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

The spanks were spread out all around Jordan's surprisingly soft, smooth boy buttocks, in a way that hadn't been done for over a week but which was still incredibly familiar to the fourteen year old.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Within four or five minutes Jordy was reacting like the little boy he tended to dress like.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Tears appeared in his eyes, and pleas for Jonathan to stop, punctuated his punishment.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

The two younger boys watched and laughed as the teenager was reduced to a crying baby, looking back and forth at each other and the steadily reddening buttocks beneath Jonathan's hands. Both of them feeling the same sense of power that was poking up the fly of their respective jeans.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

After around ten minute of relentless assault on his bottom, Jordy became slumped over Jonathan's knees, too exhausted and too sore to care that he had been reduced to a humiliating shell of himself. In fact he was so lost in his crying, begging and pleading that he didn't even realise that the spanking had actually stopped. Yet still he remained there, over a younger boy's knee with his bare bright red bottom on full display.

"Get up, you little baby." Jonathan eventually told him. "Go and stand in the corner like a bad little boy, and stay there while me and Jeremy go and get something to eat. If you ain't there when we get back then we'll start the spanking all over again. Got it."

Jordy, his voice horse, just nodded, turned and walked to the corner. The same corner Colm sent him to. His humiliation complete.

Holding back their laugher the two younger boys, waited until their orders had been followed until they made their move. Both had to adjust their erections inside their jeans, as they stood up, from the thrill of being able to dominate another boy, and an older one at that. This wasn't even the first time they'd done it, as they'd carried out their threats on the shier members of the their peer group before, but back then, they'd never thought they'd have got away with it on a teenager, and yet they had.

It took them nearly thirty minutes to go through Mrs. Williamson's kitchen like only two hungry pubertal boys could. They took turns checking on Jordan too, popping a head around the living room door to make sure he was still in position – he always was – and then returning to the kitchen to Hoover up some more food to fill their apparently bottomless stomachs.

When the boys finally returned to the living room, Jordan had had time enough to pull himself together and was no longer crying. He just stood there, silently, with his still bright red bottom, pointing out into the room until he was told to turn around.

"This is how it's going to be from now on, boy." Jonathan told him, "We are in charge of you, at least until Colm comes back and maybe afterwards too. We will tell you what to do and when to do it, and we'll punish you whenever, and however we feel like. Got it."

"Yes!" came the partly whispered reply.

At this point Jeremy suddenly asked: "How's your bum feeling?" to which Jordan answered honestly that it was sore!

"Well you'd best get used to it, cos that's how its going to stay, got it." Laughed Jonathan, "And while we're at it here's some more rules. Firstly, whenever you are in the house either alone or with us, you have to be naked, right."

Jordan's head dropped but Jonathan wasn't finished yet.

"Secondly, you are to hand over all your keys, so that any time you go out you have to get one of us to let you back in again. Thirdly, you can only piss when we tell you to piss. And fourthly– well that would be that you ain't to have any hair but on your head, but somehow I don't think we need to bother with that one do we Jerry?"

"Nope!" the crew cut head shook slowly.

Not surprisingly Jordy didn't laugh, not now he realised he was going to be these boy's virtual prisoner in his own house, and naked at that. Hell he couldn't even pee when he wanted. If only Colm would come home early. But that didn't seem likely.

"Oh and one more rule," Jonathan interjected into the teenager's thoughts, "You will always do exactly what either me or Jerry tells you, without asking about it, or saying anything, or doing anything else. Is that clear, boy?"

Realising that it meant he was giving up his life to these smaller, younger boys, Jordy had little option but to agree.

"Good. Now strip!"

Automatically, Jordy raised his shirt over his head. The pale blue cloth just coming from his eyes in time to see Jeremy holding a digital camera and sound of the shutter clicking away. Instantly his hands dropped to cover himself, but at once Jonathan slapped them aside. "Hey, it's only fair," he said, "You let my brother take photos, so we're going to take some too."

"Turn around so we can see your bum." Jerry instructed, and Jordy complied. He didn't even complain when Jonathan, pulled his still sore buttocks apart so the camera could get a look at the tiny hole that had previously lay hidden between them and that was only the start.

For the next twenty minutes or so, the mini photographers made their nude model pose in a variety of positions, in several different rooms, all of which were designed to not only humiliating him as much as possible but to show off as much of his body as possible. From laying on his back with his legs in the air, to crawling along on all fours, Jordy was made to do them all the while the younger boys continued to tease him.

"Hey, Jerry you ever seen such a small dick? I swear mine was bigger than that in infants, let alone juniors, no wonder Colm treats him like a little kid."

"Yeah, it's tiny. Smallest I've seen." The other boy then suggested that they measure it and Jordy was told to get a ruler.

Finding a familiar one in his schoolbag, Jordy returned to the living room where he was told to stand with his hands on his head and his legs apart so he could be measured. This wasn't what he'd expected, as he'd thought he had to do the measuring himself, but until his brother, Jonathan apparently had no qualms about touching another boy's private parts, and given this was a new experience to Jordy, there was only one thing that was going to happen. He got an erection.

"Well, well!" Jonathan laughed, slapping the hardness around so it bounced around, "Looks like you've gone and ruined the measuring so I guess we'll going to have to punish you, ain't we?"

"Please," Jordy begged, "you can't. I mean you just did. My bum's still sore, I can't take another one today."

"Nonsense," was Jonathan's reaction to that, and he proved his point by grabbing Jordy's slightly softening organ, and literally tugging the older boy over to the sofa where, with a shove, he forced Jordy down over the end, so his mid section rested on the arm, and his bottom was one more high in the air and fully exposed.

"Your turn, Jerry!" he then announced.

The skinny boy's face burst into a smile that threatened to break his head apart, as he got into position behind the offered buttocks.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

The blows were both less powerful, and had less commitment behind them, than those Jonathan had delivered, but as that initial spanking had only less than an hour earlier it made very little difference to Jordy.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

In no time at all, Jordy was squirming and jumping around trying to avoid the second smacking his bottom had got that day, and getting nowhere.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

It only last five minutes but at the end, Jordy was again sweating, exhausted and crying like a little baby. So much so that he remained over the end of the sofa while Jeremy once more fetched the camera, and took some more photos of his even redder bottom, making sure to get his face in at least some of the shots so he wouldn't be able to say they weren't him.

"I hope you have now learned to do what we tell you?" Jonathan asked after enough time had passed for Jordy to start getting himself together again. "So now you can thank us for looking after you by sucking our pricks!"

It was, by far, the most unbelievable thing that Jordy could have possible guess would have happened and yet, he was really too tired, and too sore to complain about it even as he was pulled from the arm of the sofa and shoved down onto his knees with Jonathan standing in front of him, already unzipping his jeans.

Suddenly, though still teary eyes, fourteen year old Jordan Williamson found himself, for the first time staring directly at another boys penis. A very, hard penis.

"Open up." Jonathan demanded.

Slowly Jordy did and instantly the twelve year old, shoved his erection in. All the way.

Jordy chocked a little as the head, brushed across the back of his throat and then recovered when Jonathan, pulled back slightly, resting his pulsing hot erection on his tongue, while holding the back of the kneeling boy's head in his hands, so he couldn't get away.

Jonathan had been rock hard in his jeans and boxer shorts since the first spanking so was now desperate to get off, so it wasn't long before Jordy got to taste something different. Something slightly salty, as the pricklet in his mouth started to leak pre-cum.

"Swallow it!" Jonathan suddenly cried out, gripping the head even hard, and pulling it right onto his erection, as it shot several thin, but strong spurts of pubertal boy juice, deep into Jordy's mouth.

Jordy had little choice but to comply with the order he'd been given as no sooner as one hard wet pricklet was removed from his mouth than another smaller, but just as hard one replaced it. Skinny little Jeremy taking his turn while Jonathan, was given the digital camera so he could record the events. Not that the events did last for long, as it was literally seconds before Jeremy – who'd been more than a little turned on by seeing his peer getting his blow job – reached his peek.

There was nothing for Jordy to swallow this time, as Jeremy wasn't quite mature enough for those sorts of activities but, all the same, by the time his head was finally released he felt equally as worn out and so totally used.

When they'd finally recovered the their orgasms, the two younger boys decided that they'd best be heading home, but before they left they once more reminded Jordy of the rules and promised to return to carry one what they'd started.

The End