Jonathan Day 2
by Tim Thomasson
timthommass@yahoo.com

copyright 2005 by Tim Thomasson, all rights reserved 

* * * * *
This story is intended for ADULTS ONLY.  It contains
explicit  depictions of sexual activity involving minors. If
you are not of  a legal age in your locality to view such
material or if such  material does not appeal to you, do not
read further, and do not save this story.
* * * * *

Day 2. 

5:15 AM

Carole woke up early the next day, even by her
standards. So early in fact she had to laugh after
catching herself whistling a movie tune while making
her morning coffee. Thinking, this is a change.
Instead of the birds singing to me, I am singing to
them.

Pouring her coffee into a mug and grabbing her keys
off the hook Carole once again went over her mental
checklist before walking out the door a happy woman.
Nothing like doing some power shopping first thing in
the morning to start one's day. Especially when ones
shopping list was bringing a gentle hint of heat, and
wetness, to your loins.

7:35 AM
Benjamin was sitting at the kitchen counter, eating a
bowl of cereal, with the grumpiness of one who wakes
up slowly written across his face, when his wife came
breezing into the kitchen. Two giant shopping bags in
tow. And looking just too damn happy with herself. 

Plopping the bags down right next to him Carole
quickly offered up a kiss before he could growl out a
word, then covered his lips with a single finger
before he could formulate his first question. Letting
her eyes dance, giving her husband a moment to catch
her mood, Carole opened the first bag. Then watched as
the slow, growing grin, split her husband's face.
Benjamin was now officially awake. 

8:00 AM

No way Jonathan wanted to get out of bed. He felt
groggy, probably from too much sleep, after all he had
been in bed at 9 o'clock last night, meaning he had
been asleep for 11 hours, but the tone in his
brother's voice as he told him to get his lazy ass out
of bed had left him no choice.

All but stumbling into the kitchen Jonathan felt a
flash of irritability at the brightness of the room,
too much, too soon, before the first alarm bells tried
to make themselves heard inside his head. Benjamin and
Carole seemed just too damn happy to see him. And
there was a lilt in Carole's voice that struck a sour
note in Jonathan's mind. True, he might not really
know her yet, but last night was all the proof he
needed to know that Carole was not the kind of woman
who coos. 

Finishing his breakfast Jonathan admitted to himself
whatever else Carole might be, she sure was a good
cook. And the homemade blueberry pancakes were out of
this world. Pushing himself away from the table it was
easy to say, "Thank you. That was great!"

She wasn't sure what made her happier. No, on second
thought, that was a lie. It was nice that the boy
appreciated her cooking, goodness knows her husband
didn't, that's why she never bothered putting a decent
meal together for him anymore, but what was truly
making her happy was the way that once again Benjamin
was looking at his brother through jealous eyes.
Seething in the knowledge that all he had rated in the
past year, or two, was but a cold bowl of cereal.

Which is exactly how she wanted it. Benjamin jealous
of Jonathan. Manipulating Benjamin was going to make
controlling Jonathan just that much easier, as
Benjamin would force the boy to jump through any hoops
she so desired. Anything to keep Jonathan in his place
so that in Benjamin's petty mind he was no threat for
her affections.

Telling Jonathan to take his dishes and rinse them off
and put them in the dishwasher she ran her fingers
through his hair as he walked by, as if a sign of
affection, before drawing her hand back and stating,
"Jonathan. Your hair feels like straw. Didn't you wash
it last night?" The slight change in his color said
that no, he hadn't, and Jonathan didn't want to admit
to the fact that he was in too pissy a mood last
night, after being spanked, to take the time to wash
his hair. Much less in the tub. Like he was some
little kid or something. Carole just shook her head
and commented to the room that tonight she would make 
sure his hair was properly washed. 

It was Benjamin, and not Jonathan, who caught the
subtle subtext of her statement. Or so said the dark
glow of anticipation in his eyes.

Picking up a small bag Carole told Jonathan it was
time for him to get dressed, after all, it was getting
late enough in the morning for him to go outside for a
while and meet some of the neighborhood kids. Which
sounded great to Jonathan, anything to get out of this
house for a while. Until Carole's next statement.

"Oh, and by the way Jonathan. I went out and did some
shopping this morning and bought you some new
underwear as promised." Jonathan kept his groan to
himself but there was no way he could keep the look
of distress off of his face. Stopping in his tracts he
tried to think of some magic words that might change
her mind. 

The look on Jonathan's face was everything she had
hoped for. And more. Amazing just how much young boys
depended on their clothing to give them their self
imagine. And it was with this thought in mind that
Carole decided now was the time to reinforce just who
was who and what was what. Setting the bag down she
reached in and pulled out three new packages of tighty
whities, then handed one of them to Jonathan while
intoning, "I hope these the right size."

Quietly Jonathan looked down at the packages in his
hands and nodded yes. Then cringed when Carole stated,
in a voice that told, not asked, that he try them on
now. "Let's see if they fit or if I need to take them
back."

For a moment all that was heard was the ticking the
kitchen clock, until Benjamin caught the growing 
lines around his wife's mouth as it grew smaller,
tighter, causing him to break the stillness by barking
at Jonathan. First telling him that he had heard
Carole. Now obey! Before reminding him that he will do
as told, no questions asked, unless he wanted a repeat
of last night's spanking. Only this time from him. 

If anything taking off his boxers was harder on
Jonathan in the brightness of the morning than it had
been last night. Last night was so unexpected he had 
no chance to allow his mind time to roam. To fully 
comprehend the circumstances. To allow the over
powering emotions of shame to truly sink in. Today he
did. And in doing he felt so very small.

Looking at the floor Jonathan could feel the heat 
spreading across his face, only too aware of the fact
that he had now become a show. Feeling the humbleness
only one as self aware as a young teenager truly can,
Jonathan tried to close his mind, as if this would
block out their piercing stares, before grabbing his
waistband and turning sideways. 

The gentle laugh from Carole caused Jonathan to all
but lose his balance as he lifted his leg to step out
of his boxers. Leaving him standing there, all
confused, his boxers now bunched around his left foot.
Grinning at his confusion Carole allowed her voice to
go soft, as if restating the obvious to a small child,
when she said, "Jonathan. There is no reason to be so
shy. I saw it all last night. Remember?" Oh yeah. He
remembered all right.

Calling the boy to her Carole felt a wetness forming
in her mouth. No matter his age, there was something
sensual in the way Jonathan slinked towards her, his
head down in quiet resignation. The way his lean,
lightly musculared young body was all but fighting
itself, as if it was hard work to taking these
hesitant, all but baby steps. The way his boxers hung,
momentarily forgotten, around his left foot, as they
slid across the floor with him. Just like a little
boy's blanket following him in his wake. Or the way
the length of his cock seemingly screamed his awaking
manhood as it gently swayed. "There is no feeling in
the world", Carole told herself, "like having a boy,
who is fighting to become a man, naked, against his
will, and under your command." None.

Carole next told him to lift his arms. Saying as long
as were changing we might as well take off this dirty
T-shirt, and found herself taken back by the smooth,
almost creamy feel to the boys skin. But even that
sensation managed to take second place when compared
to the pout on the boy's lips. Or the sad, faraway
look in his eyes. 

And faraway he was. It had taken him a good two years
of begging before his Mom had finally given in and
purchased him his first pairs of boxers. How proud, as
if he were finally part of the 'in' crowd, Jonathan
had felt the first time he had worn them to school.
Pulling them out and above his jeans the second he was
out of his Mom's sight. And now. Now he could feel
that pride being stripped away. Like an old piece of
tape being torn from the skin.

Benjamin, even more than Carole, enjoyed what came
next. The all but tender quality to Carole's voice as
she shook out a fold pair of tighty-whities, before
lowering them to the floor and telling Jonathan to
step into them. The way his brother's arm gently
shook as he placed his hand out to hold onto Carole's
shoulder, ever so briefly, as he put first one leg,
then the other, through the openings. The way he kept
his eyes glued to the wall, as if he couldn't bear to
look down and see himself exposed. But nothing gave
Benjamin as much of a thrill as the way the boy jumped
when Carole finally pulled his underwear up around his
waist, allowing her hands to, ever so briefly,
explore, going so far as to reposition Jonathan's
package, making sure, or so she was gently saying,
that he had had enough room.

Satisfied there was in fact, enough room, Carole
stood straight, put her hands on the boy's shoulders,
turned him around, then gave him a playful smack on
his ass, while telling him to go ahead and get
dressed. 

Neither Benjamin nor Carole spoke until the boy was
out of the room. Both were to busy enjoying the
show that was Jonathan. The way the tight underwear
were now framing, and yes, bubbling, his firm bottom.
And the jiggle to the boy, as he fought to keep from
giving them the satisfaction of seeing him run from
the room, was priceless.

1:00 PM

Jonathan was was on pins and needles. He didn't know
what his brother and sister-in-law were fighting
about, but it didn't take a genius to know that they
were. He wasn't sure if this was a good sign, or a bad
one, but needless to say he was one very relieved
young man when permission was granted for him to leave
the table and go back outside.

3:00 PM

Finally, in frustration, Benjamin looked at his wife,
and in a voice that was as confused as it was hurt, as
it was mad, demanded to know exactly what he had done.
Smiling inwardly, Carole knew she had played her cards
right. It was now time to play the hurt little woman.
And to put a scare into Benjamin. To dramatically cry
out how he was failing her. Why look at the way,
earlier, when Jonathan had disobeyed a direct order
from her, when told to take his boxers off. Had he,
her husband, back her up. Had he punished the boy in
anyway for failing to obey? No.

6:00 PM

Carole felt, well, content, as dinner continued, even
if she was the only one. Her little talk with Benjamin
had gone exactly as planned and Benjamin was now
taking a more active hand is the correction of
Jonathan. Just look at the way the boy was sitting for
example. His teenage slouch was now gone and in it's
place was a boy whose feet were firmly planted firmly
on the floor and whose back was as straight as a
board. Not to mention how politely he was acting,
having been told he will not talk unless he had first
asked for, and then been given, permission to speak.
"Yes", Carole told herself, "life will be much easier
with a boy who lives by the old adage, children should
be seen and not heard."

7:45 PM

Carole had entered the bathroom with the sole intent
of turning the water on and filling the tub about half
way with luke warm water. Only the visions that had
been dancing in her mind all day, and with that moment
now about to become a reality, it had suddenly become
too much for Carole to handle. She felt a faintness
that left her swooning like an old southern belle, one
with a case of the vapors. And had a fan been handy,
she would have used it. Being that there wasn't. She
quietly locked the door. Sat down, and fought for self
control.

8:00 PM

Walking into the living room Carole waited, wordless,
until her mere presence got Jonathan's attention,
then, as her voice rose and fell, as if mimicking
the occasional rise and fall in Johnathan's own
voice, told him, "Come along now. It's time for
your bath." 

Indignation in the form of bile rose in the boy's
throat, before Jonathan swallowed it, and the words
contained within, back. Already Jonathan knew there
was nothing he could do to change her mind, as well as

understood that to argue would only place himself in
harms way. But even that understanding couldn't keep a
look that bordered on hate from flashing across his
face as he look at Carole, briefly, before dropping
his eyes to the floor as he croak out a "Yes ma'am."

Walking into the bathroom Jonathan found himself
staring in confusion at the drawn bath water before a
half formed idea of what Carole had in mind suddenly
crept into his consciousness. Opening his mouth to
speak Carole cut him off before his first words of
protest could echo off the walls with a suddenly cold
tone that carried the true hint of the ice within, as
she said, "Jonathan. Get your clothes off and into
that tub, Now!"

Maybe it was the wetness that suddenly sprung to
Jonathan's eyes. A wetness that she instinctively
understood contained the intense humiliation he was
feeling, regardless, Carole, with the ease of a great
stage actress, changed her voice, and in a breezy tone
told Johnathan, "Young man. You brought this on
yourself. If I can't trust you to use soap and water
at your age, much less shampoo your own hair, then you
leave me no choice but to do so for you."

One solitary tear slipped from Jonathan's right eye.

Watching Jonathan undress was like watching a martinet
puppet being pulled upon by a drunken stage hand. One
moment he was standing still, then the next movement a
sudden flurry of uncoordinated movement. To the extent
that he looked as if he might fall over. Such as when
he went to take his jeans off and found him reaching
his hand out for support, only to miss the wall. 

By the time Jonathan was down to his underwear he was
unable to life his eyes from the floor, which might
have been a good thing, at least from Carole's point
of view, as her mouth was opening and closing,
fighting to keep her emotions in check, her panting
from being audible.

Seeing that Jonathan was all but frozen in place
Carole simply reached out and brought the boy to her,
and wordless place her hands inside the elastic band
of his underwear and with a slow tug lowered them to
the floor for him.

Carole could no longer keep her emotions to herself,
not that Jonathan noticed, as she all but took a step
back and reveled in the sight. "Damn", she thought,
"Is this boy a little hunk or what?" 

Maybe it was that sight, of the 'little hunk' gently
lowering himself into the tub with all the trepidation
of a small child that made Carole bite down on her
bottom lip. Or it could have been how large and wet
Jonathan's eyes were when finally looking up at her,
so confused, as if he were lost in a store and unable
to find his mommy. Or maybe it was the way his young
manhood all but bobbed in the water, like a buoy in an
ocean. But bitten lip or not, Carole knew this was a
sight, a feeling, was going to, she had to, experience
again and again and yet again.

If one only looked at Carole and ignored the size and 
maturity of the boy in the tub one would have been
struck by how 'motherly' she was. The softness to her
voice as she lathered up the cloth to wash Jonathan's
face. The way she reminded him to cover his eyes, "We
don't want soap to get in them now, do we?" as she
went to shampoo his hair. Or the way she gently lifted
one arm up by the wrist, then the other, as she washed
his hairless pits.

'Motherly' that is until it came time to wash his
stuff. Lathering up the cloth until it was all she
could do to hold onto it, she had Jonathan place his
hands on the bottom of the tub and lift up, until his
package was out of the water, before reaching out and
laying the cloth on the boy's testicles.

The sudden intake of air from Jonathan, the sudden 
redness that sprung over the boy, including even his
shoulders, and Carole was feeling a heat that
threatening to consume her. From the inside out.

It was as if she was in charge of cleaning the most
priceless vase in the world. That is how slowly, yet
thoroughly, she was washing the boy. Five, six, eight
time she circled his sac, amazed at how seemingly with
each circle, the balls that had seemed so boyish just
minutes before, continued to grow in size. Growing
until on the last circle could she feel an actual
weight and heaviness to them.

Lifting the cloth up, to relather it, both Carole and
Jonathan were looking down. Jonathan with a frown that
seemed as if it would fall off his face, Carole in
undisguised delight, as the previously soft and small
cock that one expects to see on a prepubescence boy
was now standing all but at attention. Proudly rising
into the air like a flag pole that has just come into
view. Neither said a word, nor as much as looked at
the other.

Holding her hand open, cloth inside, Carole reached
down and surrounded the boy's cock. Feeling a power
that was all but palpable as the boy squirmed to the
warm and silky touch of the soaped cloth, as it teased
his head, until it glowed an angry red. Until his
shaft fully engorged and hardened into a singular
straight line. Only then did Carole allow her hand to
move the cloth in an up and down motion. All but
sighing to herself as she felt the boy's manhood
throbbing in her hands, as it declared the obvious,
that he was no longer a boy, at least down there.

Only when Jonathan's sounds changed, a sudden deepness
to his breathing became obvious, speaking of control
about to be lost, did Carole remove the cloth. Then
smiled to herself. "Job all but complete." she
sedately thought. 

Adding a little fresh water to the tub, Carole wore a
huge grin as she opened the cabinet door and took out
yet another of todays purchases. Several small bath
toys that she placed in the tub with Jonathan while
proudly adding, "Here you go. You were such a good boy
tonight that I will let you play for a few minutes
before you have to get out of the tub."

Jonathan's hands seemed huge compared to the small
toys in the tub, but he was afraid not to pick them up
and move them around. So scared at this moment that
when Carole darkly indicated that he wasn't enjoying
his new toys he went so far as to make the sounds of a
tug boat as it made it's way through the water. Just
as moments later the boy cried out a few wet sounding
"Kar-booms!" as if ships were sinking. Carole smiled.

8:30 PM

Benjamin, curious as to just what was taking so long,
had all put tippy toed to bathroom to see what was
going on. Leaning against the door, as yet unnoticed,
the look on his face was one of that bordered on
sardonic, thinking to himself how right it was that
his little brother should be sitting in a shallow tub,
playing with his plastic toys, just like the little
boy he truly was. Unnoticed that is until Carole
declared it was time for Jonathan to get out of the
tub so she could dry him. 

It was now, what with Jonathan standing in the tub,
that Benjamin first noticed the huge boner his little
brother was sprouting. And although it was
unintentional, his bark of a laugh served it's
purpose. Both noticed him, Carole with a grin,
Jonathan in a cringe of shame.

The look on Benjamin's face said all. Damn, but he was
sure enjoying the show. The way Jonathan keep trying
to look away as Carole ran the fluffy towel across his
body. The way the boy literally closed his eyes,
tightly, when Carole bent over to dry off his shaft.
The way the boy actually panted as she made sure he
was dry there, running the towel up and then down,
time and time again. To the point that once she
stepped away, to declare that he was dry, his shaft
was quivering, as if a hyper boy fighting to stand
still, as ordered.

It was Benjamin's sharp eyes that caught on first, as
with a low growl, as if voicing his great disapproval,
he pointed at Jonathan's cock, and demanded, "What's
this boy?" On the tip of Jonathan's cock was the faint
sheen of leakage. A boy who was now all but beyond
control. Sobbing, Jonathan simply shook his head
and whispered "I don't know sir. I can't help it sir."

Tilting her head ever so slightly, Carole looked at
her husband, grinned, and then asked, "Benjamin? The
boy can't go to bed like this. Now can he?" At first
Benjamin just blinked, then with a understanding that
all but caused his shoulders to bunch, then roll,
intoned back, "No, he can't."

Jonathan couldn't believe his ears. His brother had
just ordered him to jack himself off. In front of
Carole? In front of him for that matter. No way!
Standing straight, for the first time in hours,
Jonathan tried to assert what was left of his pride as
he strongly told Benjamin to go, "Not a chance!"

"Ow!" was what Jonathan screamed as Benjamin buried
his strong hands into his upper arm, and fought to
free himself of the spanking he was sure to come.
Especially once Benjamin had dragged him as far as to
the stool. Instead it was with a growing horror that
the boy understood what was about to happen. Benjamin
sat down, and then with the ease of one who has
worked manual labor his entire life, lifted Jonathan
up, before sitting the boy down on his lap.

Pleading, pride now gone, Jonathan literally begged
with his brother. "Please Benjamin! Please don't."
Sneering Benjamin merely laughed at his brother, and
then, with the spew coming from his mouth wetting the
inside of Jonathan's ear, told him, "Boy. You are
going to learn to do as told. Or else." Before, in a
totally surprising move, locking his arms around
Jonathan's, strapping him into place.

It was then that Jonathan understood what his brother
and Carole had in mind. Watching in horror as Carole
opened the cabinet yet again, then closed it with one
hand. In the other hand she held a bottle of baby
lotion.

Now it was Carole the boy was begging with. Pleading
like a condemned man who has been denied his last meal
as she calmly flipped the lid open and poured a
healthy amount onto her hands. Before setting the
bottle down, all the while laughing at Jonathan, as if
some demented doctor, telling him that this wasn't
going to hurt. That instead this was, in effect, for
his own good.

The groan from the boy's lips as the lotion came in
contact with his shaft might have made a lier out of
Carole, if it wasn't for some inner pitch, known only
to man, that also proclaimed his relief at her touch.
The softness of her hands, the feel of the lotion as
it all but talked to him, overrode his emotional
outbursts, causing Jonathan to let out with a deep
groan, a groan so deep it was as if his voice was
going to change for good, right then and there.

Carole was forcing herself to move as slowly as she
possibly could. Allowing herself to get lost in her
husbands eyes and the animated look of sexual arousal
that gleamed back at her. Watching, with a wet and
open mouth, at the way Jonathan's young body swayed
under her touch. So ashamed, yet so turned on, that it
was all he could do to pant out hard breaths of,
"Please stop." How she was enjoying the self denied,
the unspoken screams of pleasure from Jonathan as she
teased the tip of his young manhood. 

She could now feel the blood rushing through him. A
boy he might be, but at this moment, what with the
harsh demands of a young cock about to exploded, made
him seem anything but a boy. And how she was enjoying
the soft rumble to her husbands voice as he told his
little brother to hold it until he was given
permission to cum. Almost as much as she was enjoying
the boy's cries oh, "I can't, oh please, please, I
can't hold it any longer!"

The trembles in the boy told Carole his words were
true, so, Carole ran her hands up Jonathan's shaft one
more time, quickly, with a firm grip, before all but
shrugging her shoulders at her husband, as if saying
to him, time.

Permission finally granted, Jonathan let out with a
yell, one so loud that even he jumped as his lithe
body pulsated forward, in perfect timing with the
streaming white liquid. A gush so high that it
threatened to go over his head before the drops came
splattering back down on his face. Liquid that was
warm to the touch as it settled all over his body. Leaving
traces of white from the bridge of his nose, on his
mouth, down his chest and stomach. A stream that
seemingly, at first, refused to slow down, until with
a shudder that all but broke him free from his
brother's grip, Jonathan slumped forward in relief,
and yes, defeat. 

9:00 PM

All three were quiet, all but still, as Carole gently
helped the boy clean up. And even Jonathan put up no
protest when told, "Hey young man. It's 9:00. Time for
you to be in bed. Anymore than Carole protested after
noticing that he was going to bed in his underwear. 

"No," she thought to herself, "This is enough for one
night. Besides, tomorrow will be here soon enough."


  
JD2_Jonathan_Day_2