This story is primarily about control between adult men with punishment and humiliation plus sneaker and clothes messy play and destruction. If you object to any of this then read no further. This story is fantasy fiction and any resemblance to persons past or present is purely coincidental.

Teaching the Punk a Lesson by sneaked666

I was walking home after a few beers at the pub when I found this half cut lad tagging a garage door on my block of flats. He was a skater type. I told him I admired his work (it was rubbish) and I would get him a can of beer. He seemed happy. It took only one can of super strength lager to leave him out of it; just slumped there. Vulnerable.

Yeah, I'm starting to think the temptation was too much too resist. You think we should? I mean we could but... Well, we can't leave him here. Best get him back to my flat - you can come too if you like. Cool, I will show you the way.

I had blown up my inflatable pool earlier - no self respecting wammer can do without one right? Yeah, I know you have one in a cupboard somewhere. When was the last time you used it? You really should get it out more often.

But this pool for once wasn't going to have me in it. He’s in there now, backpack and all. What am I doing? I’m just rolling him over so I can undo his belt. Yeah it’s a DC one. I’m just fastening it to around his legs, just above his white Etnies sneaks. Just to slow down any escape attempts. Not that he seems to be in any condition to make any surprise moves, but you can never be too careful. I mean you wouldn't leave yourself completely unprotected? No, I didn't think so.

I think it is time to wake him up. Something cold. What do you think? Go on, have a look in the fridge. There is beer and fruit juice and... Oh, you saw the milk too did you? Good choice. Here we go then, let's wake this punk up. Hmmm, no response. Should we pour some more on him? A lot more? Okay I'm trying that now; it's dripping down his Airwalk cap and hair now, onto his white hoodie. His head just jerked up and he is blinking in a groggy manner. Yup, good idea, that got his attention!

"What the fuck, dude?!"

Got a gob on him too. "Time you learnt vandalising people's stuff isn't cool. Especially with some substandard crap."

Yeah, a bit harsh I know but you saw it right? It was substandard shite alright - no effort at all. Just like me as I squirt the contents of a bottle of brown sauce over his Billabong hoodie. No effort at all.

"There you go - you've been tagged now!"

Sorry that was a spur of the moment thing, I'll let you decide what happens next.

"Stop it you fucking freak - let me go!" He’s staring at me intensely, almost daring us to do something else. Our eyes are locked together as I continue to squirt the sauce, this time over his green g-star jeans. Not once did he break the stare.

"I'm going to fucking harm you when..."

"No, you'll be quiet and take it like a man or it's going to get a lot worse for you."

And now he’s started yelling. Man, we can't have that, what would the neighbours think? I'm supposed to respectable after all. Yeah, I know that makes me laugh too.

Gag him? Yeah, you're right of course. There is a tea towel over there which.. oh, yeah, that's a great idea; rip off the sleeve of his hoodie. He’s still very drunk, and there’s no real resistance (just the gob) so I guess the other sleeve can go too. There was go, easy as... but he is making even more noise now!

The sleeves tied together does make a great gag, with the knot in his mouth. He gagged a little on the gag (yeah, pun intended). I guess he isn't a fan of brown sauce.

What was that? That was me pushing a chocolate cake into his face. Yeah, sorry again, I should have asked you but, well, that's what you would have done isn't it?

"Mmmphgf mmghpf!"

"Look up at the camera, dude."

He's shaking his head. "Look up, and smile or else I'm ripping up everything you are wearing and dumping you outside naked and covered in food..." I wouldn't of course, well, not unless you made me do it. Actually, would you make me do it? How this plays out is up to you. How far do you think we should take this?

He glanced up, just for a second, but I was ready and we now have a great photo of his cake covered face, his hair plastered to face and eyes that are trying to burn a hole in me. Honestly, what had we done to deserve that?

"Close enough... pasta sauce next!" The sauce globbed out over his Airwalk cap and splotted onto his jeans. Do you think we should pour it over his sneakers? I mean I know what your answer is going to be but it is polite to ask. Yeah, it was a good idea - his white Etnies are now covered; it's a great colour contrast.

What boxers is he wearing? I don't know - I was concentrating on what I could see. You’re quite forward aren't you? But here I am, following your commands as he follows mine. Well, 'accepts' mine I guess. Even that seems a bit strong - he doesn't really have a choice. I think he wants to kill me and you want me to check out his boxers? Well, okay then, as you asked...

Unbuttoning the front of his jeans started him complaining again. Thank you for making me gag him with destroyed hoodie. Every time he yells he inhales more of the brown sauce. He's drooling a bit now. It’s quite pathetic.

The boxers? Oh yeah sorry, I got distracted there. Mhhm, nice, a pair of grey camo Ethika boxers. Long ones. Yes, well we could do that - I'm not sure it will make him any quieter. Are you sure?

Yeah, just as I thought, as soon as I reopened the half used bottle of pasta sauce from the fridge and show it to him the noise goes up and those eyes, oh those eyes, have gone wide. Once the cold sauce dropped on his boxers it changed to a quiet whine but then he went quiet. You were right, as always. I think he is beginning to understand.

I just took off his cap and cracked a couple of eggs on his head. There was no response, just the yolk dribbling through his thick hair.

He's just realised he still has his backpack on. Do you think we should tell him I took the stuff out of his bag? I think he must have stayed over with a friend because he has a change of underwear. He must have been out shopping that day as well as he has a brand new tee and jeans in there too. I think I will tell him - I have an idea and I think we've let him stew long enough.

"Don't worry dude, I won't damage your spare stuff - if you behave from now on. Okay?" He’s nodding slowly and slumped into a dejected heap. Yeah, he understands us now but I worry if I have made a promise that you will not be able to keep.

I've slipped off his Etnies sneakers to reveal a pristine pair of white Circa socks. Really nice sneakers too - shall we add some pasta sauce inside? Yeah, I am smearing a bit of that chocolate cake inside as well to really mess them up. And back on they go, over those sparkling white socks. Oh, this has to stain.

"Mmm mppphff nphf mpppfff!"

"You brought this on yourself, I'm not enjoying this." He hadn't, I was, and you, well you're just an animal.

"Okay, what fun should we have next...?"

It is time to push our beautiful talentless vandal a little further don’t you think?

Yanking his jeans all the way down made him flail like hell and he actually managed to land a punch on me. Thanks for your sympathy, but you’re not the one in the firing line here are you?

"Nice shorts but you'll wish you never did that." Yeah, that did sound a bit angry didn’t it? Well he freaking lamped me! What's that, cooking oil? Yeah, that might make me feel happier. Let’s try.

Wow, his tee and boxers are glistening with the oil. It looks kinda beautiful don’t you think? I’m slipping off his Etnies now to pour some in there as well. His Circa socks are completely stained. He’s also stopped struggling, has he become resigned to his fate?

Just to make sure shall we pour the rest of the milk over him? Hmmm, I don't know why the yelp he just let out was very satisfying. But it was.

"Now, about the punch you threw at me; that wasn't very nice..." He’s looked at me, blinking the milk out of his eyes. "I said I wouldn’t trash your spare kit and I'm a man of my word."

See look at that, relief spread all across his face. "You're going to do it." I think I’m learning a bit from you. Look how his eyes have gone from relief to, well, what would you call that? Empty sadness? Yes, that’s perfect. Empty sadness. Beautiful.

Oh sorry, I was distracted again. There go the boxers and socks into the mess. That caused a reaction.

"MMMMMPPHHF MPHF!" I’m so glad we gagged him - we can't have language like that! Honestly!

We still have some eggs left. What, on top of the rucksack? And then make him crush them under his oh so stained sock covered feet? Where did you learn to be so mean? Not that I’m complaining.

Oh wow, that had far better coverage than I thought it might. I’m throwing his brand new bagged tee into the pit now.

"Rip it. Now!" Do you see the anger in his eyes? How can eyes, that are so utterly stunning, convey such menace? I could live with having those eyes stare at me forever more, regardless of their intent.

But yes, it is a wonderful sight, watching this punk rip apart his brand new unworn tee. Literally ripping up his own money.

"Good work. Now put it on. At least you can say you wore it once."

His brand new unworn jeans are now open to the elements. Time to start the final part of our fun and his punishment. We’ll risk removing the gag...

“How much did they cost?”

"About £50" he mumbled.

“A little red wine should give them and interesting look don't you think?”

"Oh come on mate, don't be a fucking idiot." I think he actually thought they might escape but I think he is finally realising. He’s losing everything. But that didn't stop him complaining again so I got rid of the rest of the wine...

"Stomp on your new jeans boy and get them really mucky. Do it well and you will go home clean. Do it badly and you'll be going home like this - or worse." There he goes, stomping on them and then rubbing them all over his messy clothes and his caked body.

Hmmm, this may be a risk but I’m going to place a pair of scissors close to him. Yes, thank you for reminding me it’s me in the firing line.

"You know what you must do boy? You get your phone and wallet back and some clean clothes."

"Yes..." He’s thinking about it. I can see his brain working. Oh there we go. Good boy.

"How much are they worth now?"


"And you?"

"Worthless too, Sir."

Where did that come from? No-one has called me 'Sir' for such a long time. Yes, it caught my off guard for a moment. Sorry. Thankfully you're here to make sure I do what I must...

"Good, now roll around in the mess and your destroyed clothes."

It's fun isn't it, seeing him roll around in the filth and shredded remains of his clothes. Like a wallowing pig. Wearing destroyed clothes. Yeah, I know that’s a bad metaphor. You’re supposed to be on my side. I hope you are on my side. I really wouldn't want you as an enemy.

"Look at your clothes. It's not nice when someone messes up something of your is it?"

He’s gazing around as if only just fulling taking in what had happened. "No Sir..."

"And it wasn't as if it was anything creative - just a pathetic 'tag' wasn't it?"

"Yes Sir."

"So, who's fault is it you are sat here in a pool of messed up and destroyed clothes?"

No answer. He knows he doesn't have to answer.

"Stand up." Yeah, those long camo boxers do look good. I’m going to keep them for myself. What? Yes, I can see what’s in them. They are so tight you could hardly miss it. One last task? Okay, that seems like a good idea. The spaghetti hoops? Awww, they were for breakfast... Okay, okay! I’m opening them now.

"In the shorts. Rub it in good and proper."

Oh wow, that was a fantastic sight. Are we done with him now? What? No, we are not doing that! Yes, I know it would taste nice. Mhmmm. Don't tempt me! You’ve taken me further than I would have ever gone. Yes, okay I guess we can do that.

“Strip. Do not cover yourself. Shower is over there.”

We got a brief smile out of that and a thank you! Yes, he did move quickly didn’t he? Stripping off and running to the shower. But, oh my, I suspect you saw what I did. You were right, that would have tasted nice.

Just look at this mess! What’s that? His wallet? Oh, you’re good. Let’s make a note of his name and his number off his phone.

Yeah, I’ve put the ruined clothes in the bin and everything else in the washing machine. I wonder how he’s getting on in the shower? Let’s have a proper look; it was all to brief earlier. Oh, he does have a nice body. Keep him as a pet? I don’t think he’s house trained? No, he’s definitely not; he’s pissed in the toilet and not flushed it. I mean, would you put up with that? No, I didn’t think so. Anyway, I think he would make too much noise for my neighbour’s liking. Maybe you should catch up with him on his way home?

"How am I going to get home?"

Yes, I’ve put some clean clothes on the bathroom floor for him. He's not going to like them. Wait for it, the shower has turned off, any second now.

"You're joking, I'm not wear this!"

"Fine. I will take away the Adidas trackies and you'll be wearing just shorts then."

"Awww, come on, I don't want to wear football kit - it's stupid."

"Put it all on and I'll let you have the trackies again"

"Fuck it. Okay!"

Why do I have a full Argentina football kit? It looks nice. And I like Adidas. More importantly, did you enjoy it as he pulled the shorts up over his lithe body? Do you like the way the material hangs on his body? Yeah, it hangs on that too. I know, making him pull the socks up all the way to the knee was a good idea. He hated it.

"You have served your punishment so here are the pants. You can go now."

"What about my clothes?"

"What’s left are mine now - you have these."


He doesn’t know when to quit does he? Still, best not keep him here any longer. I think we have pushed our luck as far as we should. I’m giving him back his phone, and his wallet. Yeah, I did put £80 in there but it was worth it wasn’t it? Okay, I agree, I'm too kind. I know, it's a fault I have. What's that? Oh, but you're not. We make a good team. Good cop, bad cop. So, yes I'll do that.

There I've dropped his wallet into the toilet. One final lesson.

"You absolute twat!"

"Grab your wallet Josh and I'll show you out. If I ever catch you messing up the place around here again, well, you know what will happen…."

He averted his eyes from my gaze. "Yes Sir."

"So I won't see you around here again will I?"

No answer. Hmmm, interesting… Maybe we will. I’ll be sure to invite you along again if he does. You Animal.

© 2019 everythingmustdie.com

This story is expanded from the photo story ‘Teaching the Punk a Lesson’ at everything must die, the largest collection of photos and videos of male clothes, sportswear and sneakers getting destroyed, messed up and soaked.

If you enjoyed this story please check out my semi-autobiographical novel ‘Remote Controlled’.

Or for something a bit shorter there is bondage, control, sportswear and much more in the short story  ‘The Sports Bar’