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SMACK! TWACK! WHACK! The coat hanger had come down quite painfully on Spal’s thick cock until it was bleeding and tiny. Then Mother had spun Spal over and whipped his ass with her trusty lead-tipped flogger until he was sobbing in his pillow.Mother and Maisie had derided Spal for being a “crybaby” before he’d been locked back up again…he was still covered with welts the next day…Dad was in trouble for something else, and that morning the two of them had been forced to eat out of dog dishes while crouching naked while the rest of the family, fully clothed, had sat at the table.NowSpalding crossed the street to his house, and he saw Darrell Plunkett posting a letter in the mailbox. He recognized Mr. Plunkett from his ChasteBois support group and indeed, he’d mowed the guy’s lawn.“Hey Mr. Plunkett, how’s it going?” Spalding asked in a friendly voice. Darrell looked up and grinned.“How’s it going, Spalding? You missed the last Chastebois meeting.” Darrell lowered his voice when he said. "And yes, I do. It's right over there; I left it here last week. I must have known something was coming." "You know, guys." Mitch tapped a stick on his knee. "We've gone back and forth on this for a while. Do we really need a second guitarist? I mean, how many times have we gone through this?" "He's got a point." Lara sat on one of the folding chairs scattered in the room. "We've done all right with just the four of us in the past." "But when it works, when we have a guitarist that fits, I like the extra depth in the sound." Ryan dropped into another chair. "It gives us more options, more possibilities." "I see that, but still, do we really need it?" Nate asked. "We sound fine as a four-piece, we all know that. I think I like us better that way; the sound is more basic, more stripped-down, more . . . I don't know. Honest, maybe." "I'm with him." Mitch nodded. "Not to mention, it would save us the hassle of interviewing and auditioning and then trying out any more Jasons." "Ryan,.
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