SPORTS SHOP SAGA
Chapter 5b. Does he care? – by Luke


To say I was shocked by Zak’s revelation was an understatement in the extreme!
We chatted for hours about what had happened to us both. It was so good to have someone to unburden to and, at least, I no longer felt alone or a freak.
Eventually, Zak’s mum rang his mobile phone (cell phone) to see where he was and he had to go home.
Whilst I felt much better about myself, it still didn’t solve the problem of my feelings for Ian.
And what would he think about what I had done with Zak?
Should I tell him or keep quiet?
Well, he didn’t really seem to care about me, other than as a good fuck (at least I hoped I was good!) And, I bet, a good-looking guy like him was doubtless fucking loads of other guys, so why shouldn’t I?
But, what if he was jealous? He might be angry with me. But, if he were jealous, wouldn’t that mean that he cared for me or even - dare I hope? – that he loved me?
And if I loved him - and I do, I do! – shouldn’t I be absolutely honest with him?
Yes, dammit, I would tell him!
But when? Will he want another session next Saturday? Can I wait until then? I can’t tell him in the shop when Jason and customers are around. Can I spend all day with him thinking about what will happen?
It was Sunday and I knew Ian played rugby on Sundays and had a good booze up (heavy drinking session) with his mates afterwards. Today wouldn’t be good. I’d ring him at the shop tomorrow and ask if I could go and see him at his flat (apartment) in the evening. Deffo!
Monday morning dragged and I couldn’t concentrate at school.
At last lunchtime came and I rang the shop.
"Ian? It’s Luke". I needed to make sure it was him
There was a slight pause. "What do you want?"
I was a bit thrown by the emphasis on the ‘you’.
"I, er, need to speak to you about something. Umm. Can I come to see you this evening, please?"
"No, I’m busy."
"Umm, tomorrow then?"
"If you must. 7.30 then." And he hung up.
That didn’t sound too promising.
Monday afternoon and evening went even slower. I would have loved to see Zak that evening but he was doing something with his family.
Probably as well, goodness only knows what might have happened with Mum still being away.

"Well, here goes, deep breath, Luke," as I rang the doorbell to Ian’s flat, spot on 7.30pm.
He must have been behind the door waiting for me as he opened it immediately.
He said something about wanting to tell me something but I wasn’t really listening.
My mouth was dry, my stomach in knots and my knees felt like jelly.
I asked Ian if I could have a drink and sit down.
He begrudgingly got some drinks – I noticed he had a beer but only gave me a Coke.
He clearly was not a happy bunny but I had made up my mind.
I stuttered at stammered, not knowing where to start.
"Get on with it," he snapped.
I blurted it out.
You should have seen the look on Ian’s face - it was like thunder!
I knew straight away that I was in big, big trouble.
He grabbed me and half dragged, half carried me into the bedroom where he literally threw me onto the bed.
I tried to explain but he slapped me across the face, hard.
But it wasn’t the slap that hurt as much as the awful words he spat into my face.
I had never been so scared in my life – not even on that fateful Saturday.
He grabbed by trackie bottoms and underpants and pulled them down and off, yanking off my trainers in the process.
He then knelt astride my tummy and pulled my top off.
Telling me to stay put he went over to some drawers and returned with some rope.
Then he bundled me over so that I was lying on my tummy. I couldn’t resist.
He grabbed each of my wrists and tied them to the bed head.
Then off came my pants and socks so I was stark naked,
OK, I wanted to be completely naked with him, but not like this!
Then I felt my ankles being tied to the foot of the bed – I was spread-eagled and completely helpless. I just closed my eyes and buried my head in the pillow, sobbing my little heart out.
Then a searing line of pain landed on my poor unprotected buttocks. I couldn’t help screaming out.
Then, another hit the bottom of my bum.
This was more pain than I had ever had, I struggled against the ropes but couldn’t move to any effect.
Then, when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, a third stroke landed.
I screamed for Ian to stop – I couldn’t take any more!
Then I heard a clatter and Ian storming out, slamming the door.
I couldn’t even rub my battered and bruised bum, which was on fire. I just lay there sobbing. "How could he do this to me?"
But I still longed for him to take me in his strong arms and whisper. "Hush, babe, everything’s going to be OK."
Gradually, the pain in my bum subsided but the pain in my heart didn’t.
How could Ian treat me like this, I thought he liked me.
But why was he so angry? I hadn’t promised to be faithful to him – he didn’t even seem to want that.
But he was furious, he laid into me like a man possessed.
That could only mean one thing --- that he cared about what I did.
Could it possibly be that……..he was jealous?
With that lovely thought and being emotionally exhausted, I drifted off into a deep sleep.

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Chapter 5a: Realisation Dawns (Ian)
by Mike Redbotham


All through the rest of that Sunday I couldn’t get Luke out of my mind.
I wondered what he was up to, what he might be thinking, what I wanted to say to him, rehearsing all sorts of conversations.
I forget how many times I wanked (jerked off) thinking of him.

By the evening I had decided – That was it! He’d have to go. I couldn’t have a kid messing with my life.
No matter how unfair it seemed, I couldn’t have him around the shop each week.
I had to end things completely. Give him several weeks’ wages as a pay off.
There were plenty more fish in the sea, more mature.
Perhaps I could have Will after all.
Right! Decision made. Bye, bye, Luke.

Lunchtime on Monday and the ‘phone rang. Yes, you’ve guessed it, it was Luke.
I took a deep breath, "What do you want?" I snapped.

He wanted to come and see me that evening; had something to tell me.
I felt my cock coming to life, but I wasn’t going to jump to his tune. I told him I was busy.
Then he asked if he could come the next evening.
Ok, it would give me a chance to end it for once and for all.

Tuesday dragged like hell. For some reason the shop was quiet.
It was one of the days that Jason was in and he was being a pest, like he can be at times, asking daft questions and messing about.
"Get on with some work, will you?" I snapped, "or I’ll put you over my knee."
"Oooo-er get ‘er", he sneered.
I landed a hard slap on his plump rump and he jumped a mile.
"Ow. OK. OK" and he went back to checking off some stock.
I couldn’t concentrate on my paperwork and kept thinking of all the things I was going to say to Luke that evening.

Eventually, I could shut up shop and go home to shower. As 7.30 approached, I began to get nervous, a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Spot on 7.30, the doorbell went. I ushered Luke in.
Without offering him a drink, I started.
"I’ve got something to tell you, too, but first what did you want to tell me?"

"Er, can I sit down and have a drink, please?"
I got him a Coke and me a beer. "Well?"
"Been busy in the shop?" he asked.
"You didn’t come here to ask me that!" I snapped, "Get on with it, boy, spit it out!"
"Well, um, something happened on Sunday."
"Go on."
"Well, um. You see, I have a mate at school, Zak……"
"I’d be surprised if you didn’t have a school mate. So?"

"Well, um," a long pause, "I fucked him."

"YOU WHAT?" I shouted and a red mist descended.
I grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and half dragged, half carried him in to the bedroom and threw him on the bed.
I slapped him across the face as tears beaded in his clear blue eyes.
"YOU LITTLE SLUT!"
I was incandescent with rage as I roughly pulled his track suit bottoms down his long legs.
They got stuck on his trainers, which I yanked off without undoing the laces.
Luke cowered, his bottom lip trembling, not knowing what to do.

Straddling him, I pulled his top up over his head, Luke not resisting.
"Please let me explain", he muttered. But I was having none of it and slapped his face again.
"Stay there!" I ordered and went over to my chest of drawers and took out four lengths of cord.
Returning to Luke, who was now looking really scared, I roughly turned him over so he was lying flat on his tummy.
Grabbing each wrist in turn, I tied them to the headboard. Luke was sobbing by now but I paid no attention.
Next his underpants had to come down; they slid easily over his slim, young hips.
His socks were yanked off and his ankles were firmly tied to the foot of the bed and he was there, spread-eagled and totally naked.

For once, my cock didn’t rise to the occasion – I guess I was too angry.
I went to the wardrobe and got out my longest, finest cane and returned to the bed. Without preliminaries, I landed a viciously hard stroke right across the highest peaks of Luke’s undefended bottom.
"Ow! Please, No", howled Luke.
I ignored him and landed another stroke at the base of his buttocks as a red wheal started to rise from the first stroke.
Luke was really sobbing by now but I was beyond all reason and landed a third with all my might.

"God! No! Please, Ian."

I don’t know if it was the sound of my name or what, but I suddenly realised that I was in danger of doing him serious harm.

I threw the cane down and stormed out of the bedroom, slamming the door, and out of the flat, leaving Luke tied there. I had to get some fresh air.

I walked and walked trying to clear my head.
‘Why was I so upset at the thought of Luke with someone else?’
‘I was going to dump him anyway, wasn’t I?’
‘Wasn’t he free to do what he wanted?’
‘At least it proved he really was gay.’

I suddenly realised that my aimless wandering had led me to the gay pub.
I needed a drink so went in and ordered a pint.

It was still early so the bar was fairly quiet.
I did notice a guy who I had fancied for ages, Martin. He had always turned down my advances. He wasn’t my usual type at all, a bit too camp for my liking. But, there was something about him. You know the type, there is something that you can’t quite put your finger on but is very appealing. He was a couple of years younger than me – mid twenties.
He had a cute face with a turned up, button, nose, clear skin and long straight, dark, hair. There is something about clear blue eyes with dark hair and thick black eyelashes. He was around 5’9" and slim.
He had the most glorious bubble butt you have ever seen, shown off to great advantage with his tight, black, leather trousers. His close fitting, black T-shirt showed off his broad shoulders narrowing down to a wasp-like waist in a classic V shape. Small pyramids delineated his nipples.
He raised his glass to me as I took the first sip of my beer, across the length of the bar.
I returned the salute but looked away. I didn’t need any other complications in my life right then.

That first ‘sip’ was more of a draught as I took practically half of the pint down in one swallow.
It wasn’t long before the rest followed it and I ordered another. Good job I wasn’t driving.

I took the second pint more slowly, staring morosely into my glass. Soon nature took its course and I had to get rid of some of it.
I had barely taken my cock out at the urinal when who should sashay up to the next one but Martin.
He unzipped his trousers and lobbed out a surprisingly large piece of meat, just as my own pee started to flow.

Martin just stood there, stroking his own, ever growing, cock making no effort to pee himself.
Unabashed, he blatantly watched me and as my flow stopped he said, archly "Mmmm, they said you were a big boy."
With that he reached out to take my cock.
"Oh, now you want some sex. Do you?" as I grabbed the scruff of his neck with one hand and his arm with the other and bustled him into a cubicle.
"Ooooh, you are rough!" camply.
I locked the door behind us and took his face in my hands and planted a big kiss on his welcoming lips.
Then I grabbed one arm and twisted it up his back in a half Nelson. I reached around his skinny waist and undid the top button on his trousers, the zip still open.
I yanked his trousers down around his knees. He was ‘going commando’ so his creamy white, smooth butt was immediately exposed.
I put one foot on the bog seat and forced him, still in the half Nelson, over my knee.
Those firm, small but perfect, orbs were now at my mercy.
I brought my free hand down with a resounding SLAP across their centre.
"Ow!"
As he wriggled and squirmed, I took my frustrations out on those innocent buns.
With my large hands on that cute little bottom, it didn’t take long before they took on a delicious rosy red hue.
Martin squealed and yelled but I could feel his stiff prick against my thigh.
Finally, I decided he had had enough, but he wasn’t going to get away as lightly as Will had.
I withdrew my knee and forced him over the toilet seat; his, now red hot, butt in the air showing his little pink pucker.
My flies were still open and my cock was standing like a Maypole.
Without ceremony, I rammed it into him.
His well exercised button easily opened to accept me and it didn’t take me long to fill him with my creamy cum – just as he shot his own load into the pan.

As I stuffed my cock back into my jeans and as he pulled up those black leather trousers he said,
"Oooh, you are a brute! You are awful, but I like you!"
I gave him another slap on his now be-trousered bottom and snapped, "That was a one-off. Don’t come looking again, ‘cus it ain’t gonna happen!"

When I got back to the bar my old friends Dave and Derek had come in.
"Hi," called Dave, "How’s it going?"
"God, you look rough," said Derek.
That’s the thing with good friends – they tell it like it is.
Dave and Derek had been together for over 25 years and had known me since I first came out.
I knew they were into a bit of gentle S & M themselves, so I told them the whole sorry story, including leaving Luke tied up to my bed.

Derek was about 10 years older than Dave and was the ‘top’.
"You know Dave and I are as solid as a rock," said Derek. "But he has strayed from time to time."
"Only when the old queen wasn’t up to it," chirped in Dave, cheekily.
Derek gave him a hard slap on his still pert bum, "Quiet!"
"But I know he’s going to come back to me and, as long as he is safe, I don’t really mind.
Of course he always gets a good hiding if it happens. Don’t you, boy?"
"Yes SIR!" said Dave, saluting, and got another slap on his bum, for his cheek.
"But seriously," went on Derek, "There’s an old saying ‘If you love something, let it go – if it returns, it is yours forever. If it doesn’t, it never was.’ Luke’s young and just finding himself. You have to let him have his head."
"But, dammit, I DON’T love him", I almost shouted banging my hand on the table and making the drinks jump.
"Then why are you so upset?", asked Derek, gently.
"B b because…….." I stuttered, "I FUCKING well LOVE him!!"
Derek smiled, "Shouldn’t you tell him that?"


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NB; MY STORIES ARE FANTASIES AND IN FANTASIES CHARACTERS DO NOT CATCH ANYTHING NASTY, UNLESS THE AUTHOR SO DECREES. SO MY CHARACTERS DO NOT USE CONDOMS, THEY GET IN THE WAY OF AN EROTIC STORY.
HOWEVER, REAL LIFE IS NOT A FANTASY, SO ALWAYS USE ONE!