Date: Mon, 24 Feb 2014 01:02:46 +0000 (UTC)
From: fiveholepunch@comcast.net
Subject: Four Bad Boys

Four Bad Boys


It was 3:30 PM. Lined up in front of my desk were four boys from my fifth
period English class. Each one shared an expression of petulance at having
to stay after school.

"Gentlemen, your behavior over the last week has been unacceptable. You've
not only been disrespectful to me, your teacher, but also to your fellow
classmates. I will not allow you to neglect your education, nor will I
allow you to interfere with the education of others in the class."

The boys shuffled before me, displeased at being lectured.

"Boys," I continued, "you're going to make a decision. One, I can refer
this matter to Principal Slaughter and set up a meeting involving each of
you individually where we can review your classroom behavior with your
parents. Or, two, we can deal with this matter right here and now and
you'll have to take your punishment. The choice is yours."

I could see their minds working. I knew three of the boys would want to
avoid having their parents involved in any way whatsoever. Two of the boys
had formidable fathers that would brook no misbehavior on their son's part
while the third had a Russian mother who was stricter than all of the other
parents put together.

"What kind of punishment?" Eli asked hesitantly.

It didn't surprise me that he would be the one to ask first. His parents
were the most lenient and Eli had the least to lose.

"An old-fashioned spanking," I stated definitively.

Every boy's face betrayed immediate, open-mouthed astonishment. They
weren't expecting this.

"What?"

Eli again.

"You heard me. I said a spanking."

There were continued looks of astonishment that slowly turned to smiles of
adolescent possibility.

"You can't do that," declared David, "that's not school policy."

David's declaration didn't surprise me; he had the most oppositional
personality of the group. Even though I had just begun teaching at this
institution, I knew full well that it wasn't school policy. That didn't
matter; I wanted to make it my policy.

"No, it isn't school policy, but nonetheless it is a choice you boys are
going to have to make; you and your parents meeting with the principal or
dealing with the matter right here with me. Discuss it amongst yourselves,
if you wish."

"What kind of spanking would it be?" Joe asked.

"I'm going to turn each of you, in turn, over my knee and spank your
bare-ass."

Eli and Joe laughed, Oleg and David smiled. I knew they were intrigued. It
would be a test of "manliness" and it involved nakedness. I wanted to speed
the decision.

"You have one minute to discuss this among yourselves," I asserted, leaning
back in my chair.

The boys huddled together. I was confident that Eli could be persuaded by
the other three to accept the deal.

What was my place in this story?  I had taken a position as a seventh-grade
teacher in a boy's school, even though I was, formally considered,
academically overqualified. I didn't take the position for the intellectual
rewards. Let's say I found the "spirited nature" of twelve and
thirteen-year-old boys to be of interest. These four boys were certainly
the most "spirited" of my charges. Perhaps a brief description of these
particular students is in order.

Eli was the smallest of the group and by far the most active. He was at the
forefront of any activity, positive or negative. If somebody were up and
moving when they weren't supposed to, it would be Eli. If somebody were
talking when they weren't supposed to, it would be Eli. He probably weighed
no more than 85 pounds, still closer to a boy in a physical sense than any
of the others and was lean and wiry from his participation as a successful
forward on the soccer team. His dark eyes sparkled and his long hair flew
above his shoulders every waking moment.

Oleg was his opposite. He was as big as Eli was small. Oleg was 6'1" tall
and nearly 200 pounds. He was as big as I was and had just reached the age
of thirteen. He barely fit behind the desks of the classroom. Oleg was
destined to be a nose tackle, for sure. Oleg was the quietest of the group
and, out of all four, tried to avoid trouble more so than the others, his
mother being the reason for self-restraint. It was, however, easy for him
to be led astray and with the influence of the other three; this happened
more often than not.

The above two boys were simply as described. Our next two are bit more
complex.

First, there was Joe. Joe had some impulse problems that couldn't be
attributed solely to being a dozen years old. One, unfortunately, was a bit
of a neurological deficit that was evident in the uneven expression that
appeared on the boy's face; Joe's left eye turned slightly down and
away. Joe often turned slightly away, not looking directly at another
person. This habit, even more unfortunate than any neurological deficit,
was the result of the unending badgering by his parents. Joe was a good kid
at heart and, while admittedly somewhat limited, his difficulties grew out
of a fear of constant criticism. Joe actually was quite handsome with hazel
eyes and light, wavy hair. His physique was definitely adolescent; Joe was
in the middle of his growth spurt.

David had a similar home situation to Joe's. There was nothing that David
could do to please his father. Any male figure in his life, teacher or
coach, was met with a passive/aggressive oppositional defiance. Out of all
four boys, David had the greatest need for love and approval and the least
ability to get it. David's physique paralleled Jack's, although David had
dark hair and eyes and was not quite as handsome.

"Well, gentlemen, what's it going to be?"

"We'll take the spanking," Oleg answered. The others affirmed this decision
with nods and monosyllabic assent.

"Very good," I affirmed. "A wise and practical decision on your part."

"What'll we ... What'll we do now?" Eli asked.

"Well, I'll tell you. First, Eli, go close and lock the door. Oleg, you are
going get the hard chair over there and put it in front of the room," I
said gesturing towards the blackboard. "David, I want you to go get my gym
bag out of the coat closet behind my desk."

Each boy went about their task. I got up from behind my desk and went to
the front of the room and sat myself down in the chair that Oleg had placed
facing the blackboard.

"What's the gym bag for, Mr. Johnson?" David questioned.

"Well, David, I need you to open up the bag and take out the towel."

David unzipped the bag and pulled out the terrycloth towel I used at the
gym after school. I noticed he gave a smile at having to move my jockstrap
out of the way. The other boys looked amused as well.

"Bring it over to me," I ordered. "You boys line up in front of the board."

They did as they were told. I proceeded to offer an explanation for the
retrieval of my towel.

"The towel is quite often a necessity, David. You see, it is natural for
boys your age to find being spanked so stimulating that often one of the
unintended consequences of the punishment is a spontaneous ejaculation."

"You mean you come?" Eli asked incredulously.

I noticed the other boys look at one another with a smirking realization.

"That's right, Eli. It quite often happens and there's nothing to be
embarrassed about. But, I don't want to have my pants soaked in spluge, now
do I?"

All the boys laughed at this. I made an exaggerated show of putting the
folded terrycloth towel over my right thigh.

"Well, gentlemen, the time has come for your punishment."

The smiles quickly disappeared.

"To make it easier, I think we'll just go in order," I explained, referring
to the way in which the boys had lined up before the blackboard, "Eli that
means your first."

"Oh, no ..."

The other boys laughed at Eli's objection.  I quickly asserted my control
of the situation.

"There is no argument.  You've made your decision and now you'll take your
punishment."

I looked sternly at each of the boys before me.

"Now, I want you to understand exactly how this is going to take
place. You're going to stand where you are until it's your turn to receive
your punishment. You are going to walk over, take down your pants to below
your knees, pull your shirt up, and lean over placing yourself on the
towel. You will reach over and down, you can lean your chest on my other
leg, and grasp the chair leg and remain bent over until you have received
your full punishment. After you've received the full measure of your
punishment, you'll stand back up and take your place in line. You will then
wait in place until everyone has received their spanking. Is that
understood?"

"Yes, Mr. Johnson," the boys answered in unison.

"Alright, Eli, come over here and stand on my right," I directed the
spritely lad.

Eli reluctantly came over. I could tell by his facial expression that he
didn't want to let on to his friends that he was embarrassed. His cheeks
betrayed his state with a slight blush.

"Take down your pants like you were told," I commanded.

Eli dropped his white nylon soccer shorts. They fell all the way to his
ankles. He hesitated.

"Your underwear too," I added, rather more gently.

Eli reached under his nylon soccer jersey and pulled his light blue jockey
shorts down, until they too fell to his ankles. The room was dead
quiet. All the boys waited.

"Lift up your shirt, Eli."

Eli lifted nylon soccer jersey slowly. You could see the fabric slide
delicately over a slightly protruding projection. What was revealed was a
just elevating, two and a half inch, circumcised penis, below which an
almost hairless, soft pink scrotum was hanging half-loosely downward. Eli
had a scattering of darkened hairs above his penis. They were mostly
straight, only a few curled. It was obvious that Eli had just entered the
state of puberty. During the few seconds of the boy stood at my side his
penis stiffened to a near four inch height. The lavender color of the
flared head stood in contrast to the white of the boy's lean abdomen. Eli
looked at me seeking assurance.

"Lean over and get in position, Eli," I said as sympathetically as I could
while still maintaining an authoritarian tone.

Eli leaned down and positioned himself across my lap. I put my left hand on
his back just below the small shoulder blades covered by the nylon soccer
jersey. I reached down with my right hand and placed it on the back of the
boy's right thigh, just below the lean curve of his buttock.

"Lift your butt up a little higher," I quietly directed.

I gave a gentle lift with my cupped hand to guide the boy. I looked up and
saw the three other boys staring in rapt attention, transfixed by the sight
of their classmate half naked on their teacher's lap. I delivered my next
announcement half looking down to Eli, who'd turned his head somewhat
toward me, and half towards the other three boys standing in front of the
blackboard.

"You will receive ten to twelve spanks on your buttocks. You will answer
respectfully when spoken to. I will tell you when you can get up and take
your place in line. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Mr. Johnson," Eli replied.

I could feel the tension the boy's body. I ran my hand over the boy's taut
right buttock, my fingertips brushing the firm, warm flesh. I allowed the
tip of my thumb to slide somewhat along the edge of the tight cleft. Eli's
buttocks tightened. I immediately began an admonishment to head off any
possible comment.

"You've been disrespectful in class. That must end. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Mr. Johnson."

With that I raised my right hand and brought it firmly down on the boy's
right buttock with a smack. I don't think Eli was the only boy to gasp.

"Are you going to continue to misbehave, Eli?"

"No, Mr. Johnson."

Eli's voice was a bit higher. His tone was more respectful. I brought my
hand down firmly again on his right buttock. I felt the sting.

"Oww!"

It was a genuine sentiment. I very lightly massaged the tensed flesh
beneath my hand. Eli relaxed. I took that opportunity to draw my thumb
briefly downward over the more intimate areas hidden from sight. The boy
let out a slight "oh" in response.

"I'm going to expect better behavior from you in the future, Eli."

I didn't wait for the boy to respond before bringing my hand down two times
on his yet untouched left buttock.

"Ah ... Ahh!"

Eli squirmed below me. I allowed my hand to linger a moment. The boy moved
himself against my thigh. As I made to lift my hand, I tilted my fingers to
touch briefly between the muscles of Eli's bottom. Eli, for the briefest
moment, relaxed in a gesture of permission.

At this point I must admit to a lessening of my self-restraint. Whereas I
felt a frisson at seeing Eli's lavender crown, I had heretofore not
experienced any noticeable changes from my disciplinary activity. I did
now. My hooded glans slid ever so slightly. I felt the beginnings of
telltale wetness.

"Are you going to be a good from now on Eli?"

"Yes, Mr. Johnson," Eli responded with a true note of sincerity.

I gave a not too hard smack across both buttocks. I reached down, out of
sight of the other boys.

"Is that a promise, young man?"

I drew my hand upward, allowing my fingers to run up Eli's inner thigh, my
fingertips brushing the back of the boy's scrotum.

"Y-y-yes, Mr. Johnson," he stuttered.

Another smack across both buttocks. Eli's head went down. He squirmed more
forcefully against my thigh. He grasped the chair leg more firmly.

"Nnhh!"

It was less a cry of pain, more of another type.

"I want you to be good from now on."

Another light swat, more squirming.  Another and another. More of the same.

"Last one, Eli."

I made it a firm swat. Eli groaned.

"Okay, you may stand up now, young man."

The boy got to his feet. His penis stood hard, its head a crimson
purple. His scrotum was pulled tight. I looked down to the towel on my
thigh and didn't see any trace of ejaculate.

"Are you going to behave properly from now on, Eli?" I asked with a firm
tone.

"Yes, Mr. Johnson. I will."

"Very well. Pull up your pants and take your place in line."

Eli did so. Even with his soccer jersey pulled down I could still see the
boy's erection poking forward.

I now looked to the other boys in line. It was obvious that the tableau of
their classmate being disciplined butt naked, moaning and groaning, and
arising with an erection had had its effect. I could see each boy in a
state of arousal. Joe squirmed about the most. Being third in line, I was
wondering if he would be able to make it much longer without coming in his
pants.

Next up was Oleg. Oleg generally wore a T-shirt and nylon shorts or a
T-shirt and nylon track pants. Today was the former. Oleg tried to pull his
T-shirt down, but it was hopeless. There was no covering what was in the
thin nylon of his pants. Oleg bulged obscenely. In trying to cover his
thick erection Oleg had inadvertently pulled the nylon tightly enough that
one could see that his testicles were as impressively large as the rest of
his physique.

"Oleg, come over here," I said tersely.

The boy came over, his face a bright red. He tried not to look mortified.

"Oleg, you have to take your punishment. I don't want you," at this point I
turned to the other boys, "or anyone else to be embarrassed. As I said,
it's perfectly natural for boys your age to get an erection when they are
spanked." At this point I turned back to Oleg and said, "You have nothing
to be embarrassed about, understand?"

"Yes, Mr. Johnson," he said somewhat unconvinced.

"Very good. Now Oleg, I want you to take down your pants and pull up your
shirt."

Oleg bent over and pulled both his nylon basketball shorts and his
underwear down to the tops of his thick calves. He stood up, this pulling
his T-shirt up over his substantial torso.

There couldn't have been a greater contrast between seventh graders as
there was between Eli and Oleg. Oleg's penis was Brobdingnagian in
proportion. It wasn't the length, although this was probably a good six
inches long, it was the breadth. The flat, broad width of Oleg's veiny
phallus was nearly two inches across. The shiny head, the pouting lips and
vee curve of which could be seen peeking from the thick, ruddy rim of
Oleg's foreskin, was wider still. Oleg had reddish-brown pubic hair in a
triangle above his penis and this continued on to two thick and full
testicles encased in a deeply ridged purse. Oleg was dripping. I had no
doubt that he would be spurting thick ropes of semen in short order.

I noticed the other boys looking at their pal's fat member as jutted in
front of the beefy thirteen year old.  Eli was brushing the front of his
soccer jersey with his fingers; he appeared to be in a daze, his pupils
dilated, as he stimulated the pointy prominence of nylon fabric that was
located at the tip of his boyish erection.

"Take your position for your punishment, Oleg."

Oleg bent over my lap, needing a moment or two to position his erection on
top of the towel over my right leg.  Oleg was a substantial boy and his
weight was noticeable.  His broad, muscular buttocks made an easy target.

"Oleg, your behavior has been rude and disrespectful, do you understand?"

"Yes, Mr. Johnson," the boy answered in a deep baritone that resonated
noticeably compared to his peers.

I delivered a substantial smack to Oleg's ass.

"Oh!" was the not unexpected, on my part, surprised response.

I delivered another firm smack to the opposite, untouched cheek.

"Unnhh."

The boy gave a deep grunt. He pushed against my thigh noticeably.

"Are you going to behave in class from now on?"

"Yes, sir."

Another measured, stinging blow to each buttock, another deep grunt in
response to each, and an accompanying push of the boy's penis against the
towel on my thigh.  I could feel Oleg's legs tense as he put more pressure
on his turgid erection.

"Will I have to warn you about your behavior again, young man?"

Smack!

"Nnngh – No, sir!"

"Is that a promise?"

Smack!

"Y-y-yes, sir!"

I delivered four more carefully placed bare-handed strokes, pausing for
each to have a full effect on the prostrate boy.  With each sharp slap Oleg
grunted louder and pushed harder.  I could see that the other boys were
riveted by Oleg's obviously increasing excitement.  Eli squinted, his mouth
open as he rubbed the nylon fabric over his stiffy.  David pushed the
upward curving bulge in his pants slowly side to side with the fingers of
both hands. I, too, felt myself lengthen somewhat in my pants, having an
aroused boy in my lap thrusting against my leg.

On my tenth spank Oleg lost control.  He repeatedly pushed forward with his
thick thighs, I could feel him shove his stiff erection deep into the towel
I had across my leg.  He was grunting like some sort of bear. I had stopped
spanking the boy's buttocks, allowing him to climax without distraction. It
was a good ten to fifteen seconds before Oleg stopped writhing across my
thigh.

As the heavyset boy orgasmed noisily in my lap, I could see at the edge of
my vision Joe making a grasp for the front of his khaki shorts with both
hands. His nostrils flared, his upper lip curled, and he let out a low
groan. Joe had come in his pants.

"Oleg, get up now," I gently encouraged.

When Oleg stood up, his T-shirt fell down to the boy's red pubes; the
thick, swollen shaft of flesh jutted forward, the half-enrobed glans
glistening with clumps of ejaculate. I felt a distinct twinge in my
underwear, inhaling air redolent with the scent of the boy's fresh semen. I
glanced at the towel across my leg and saw a large moist puddle soaking
into the terrycloth. I turned to Oleg, who stood sheepishly, his face
bright red with embarrassment at having climaxed so obviously.

"You may pull up your pants now, Oleg," I quietly allowed.

Oleg bent down to pull his underwear and nylon basketball shorts up in one
quick motion. I noticed that some of the semen that had been smeared on his
abdomen had begun to leak through his T-shirt. Oleg tried to stuff his
still tumescent penis into his underwear, but in his haste he was having
trouble with the overlapping elastic of his nylon shorts. It took him
several seconds to negotiate tucking his thick organ away. The semen that
clung to the end of his penis and under his foreskin made a noticeable mess
as Oleg tried to force himself back into his shorts.

"Go back and take your place in line, young man."

Oleg did so, waddling a bit because of the uncomfortable prominence in his
shorts.  After taking his place in line with the other boys, he rubbed his
just spanked bottom in discomfort. I flipped and re-folded the towel so
that the puddle of jizz would be sandwiched between the absorbent layers
terrycloth. I didn't want any to leak onto my slacks.

It was Joe's turn now. I knew the boy was embarrassed. I knew he didn't
want to reveal to me or, even more so to his friends, that he had just
spunked in his pants.

"Joe," I addressed the boy, whose lips pouted slightly in his abashed
state, "Come over here. It's your turn now."

Joe walked uneasily, both hands half covering his crotch, making his way
over to stand next to my right leg.

"Joe, take down your pants and assume the position."

Joe hesitated, a conflicted expression on his face, not wanting to show the
front of his pants.

"The sooner you take your punishment the sooner it will be over," I said as
soothingly as possible trying to mitigate the boy's distress.

Joe resigned himself. He took his hands away from the front of his khaki
shorts. A dark stain was clearly visible at the top of the boy's bulging
fly. I noticed a bit of snickering from two of the boys in line. I shot a
stern glance, first to Eli and then to David, that prevented any disruptive
teasing.

Joe had, by this time, unzipped and dropped his shorts to his ankles. A
large, soaking wet area could be seen in the cotton of the
thirteen-year-olds underwear; the load was so copious that you could see a
few globules of ejaculate had been forced through, appearing on the outside
of the fabric. The outline of the underside of the boy's glans could be
clearly seen pressing against the now translucent cotton.

While trying to lower his jockeys, Joe awkwardly attempted to wipe the
semen from his still stiff member in the process. He wasn't successful. Not
only was the end of his teenaged penis still glistening, but he also
managed to get some of the stickiness on his fingers. He was forced to wipe
them on the side of his briefs before lowering them completely.

Joe stood up for only a moment before lowering himself over my thigh, but
it was enough time for me and the other boys to see Joe's penis. It was a
perfect parallel of Joe's overall physique; lean, muscular and still
maturing.  Joe was cut and the penile head was a narrowing, arrow-like
wedge that flowed smoothly from the steeply upward curve of a shaft that
arose in elegant proportions worthy of alabaster-hued Saarinenian
architecture.

I decided to be perfunctorily brief in spanking Joe as he had already
achieved his release and was, despite being of the age where such priapic
feats were more attainable than any other, unlikely to be sufficiently
aroused to discharge in the minute it would take me to administer twelve
disciplinary swats to the boy's backside.  This did not mean, however that
I couldn't savor the near sublime sights and sensations of a semi-naked
youth in my lap.

As I asked for the acknowledgement of his behavioral transgressions, I did
not fail to sting the taut, athletic bottom of my submissive student,
pausing, of course, to run my hand soothingly over the flushed flesh.  A
dozen strokes of my hand passed quickly eliciting promises of respectful
conduct in class.

Upon arising, it was apparent that Joe lost almost none of his turgescent
vigor.  This hindered his attempt to pull his semen-soaked underwear up
quickly enough to avoid reminding everyone present of its obviously
inundated state. Joe blushed somewhat as he refastened his khaki shorts and
made his way back to his place between David and Oleg.  While the other
boys smiled at Joe's embarrassment, tellingly they made no overt comment on
his predicament.

It was now David's turn.

I gestured and called the dark haired boy to take his place where the
others had stood.  He wore an expression that was an unusual combination of
his usual barely veiled insolence and a hesitant glimmer of desire.  What
particularly struck me was that this desirous glint appeared to be more
than mere lust of the flesh; it gave me the impression of a want of
intimacy.

Like the others, David had an obvious erection pressing the front of his
pants outward.  I gave the directive and David unbuckled with a slight
smile.  He hadn't the embarrassment of the others, displaying his erection
for him was an act of defiance and this gave him a confident air.  He
unzipped and, given the leanness of youth, this dropped his concrete grey
khakis to his ankles.

In the moment before David lowered his briefs there could be seen, atop the
fabric of his boxers, the damp circle of pre-come that marked the upper
reach of the teen's rod.  A pull forward for clearance, a tug or two, and
down came the baggy underwear revealing yet another thirteen year old cock
in its near constant state of readiness.

David's boyhood would be exactly described with the stereotypical linked
adjective – "banana-shaped."  It curved upward nearly five inches,
swelling midway to its thickest point, and then tapering to an exposed
reddened glans whose external edges fell within the continued curvature in
perfect harmonious alignment.  Below, a tightened ruddy purse had begun to
sprout darkened curls, enough to indicate that this would be a source of
eruptive seed, the sight of which caused a juicy spasm in my distended, but
not erect member.

"Take the position for your punishment, David."

The boy lay across my lap in a somewhat sensuous manner, unlike the other
boys.  An animal heat radiated from the youth as I placed my left hand on
his back and my right on his bare bottom.  David rocked his hips ever so
slightly. This was particularly noticeable to me, but unlikely noticeable
to the other boys.  His movements were an effort to position his erection
comfortably in the fabric of the folded cotton towel that lay across my
right thigh.

Looking down at the boy's lean, smooth buttocks I faced a dilemma; would I
punish David's defiance and opposition or encourage his want of a man I
knew of, but he knew not?  It would be easy for one to be tempted by the
crude voluptuousness of inflicting pain and hurt out of impatience with the
youthful miscreant.  I, however, could resist this impulse at my ripened
stage of libertinage; a more subtle pleasure, that of the combinatory
caress of seduction played against the sheer sensory immediacy of a
corporeal blow would, in its counterpoint, overwhelm the youth's aloof
demeanor and elicit the as yet unconscious leanings I knew to be lurking in
the shadows of his psyche.

"Your behavior in class has been unacceptable, David," I admonished, "You
have been insolent and disrespectful and I have given you many warnings
about your poor behavior which you have repeatedly chosen to ignore.  You
will now be punished. Do you understand me young man?"

"Yes, Sir!" David answered loudly with a tone of mock obedience.

It was an attempt to be simultaneously defiant to authority and an effort
to impress his peers with his feigned unconcern. I would correct his error
in judging the situation forthwith. I raised my right hand and brought it
smartly down on the boy's right buttock with a loud smack.

"Oww!" came a loud exclamation of pain and surprise.

If David's buttock stung as much as my hand it was an honest reaction.

"That's quite enough of that, young man."

"Yes, sir," came a more subdued and respectful reply.

"This is exactly the type of attitude and behavior that must be corrected."

I didn't wait for a response before delivering another quick, crisp blow to
David's left buttock. David gave a gasp, naturally enough, but it was
followed by a bit of a groan and a distinct movement of the boy's hips.

I delivered another swipe, allowing my hand to rest a moment atop the
smooth flesh.  David wiggled noticeably, both to me and to the other boys
looking on.  What they couldn't see was that David was rubbing his erection
quite forcefully into the towel on my leg.  I tensed my calf muscle,
lifting my foot slightly, providing more resistance for his efforts.  I
thought I heard a slight grunt of satisfaction.

"David, I am going to expect more mature behavior on your part in the
future.  Do you understand?"

Smack!

"Yes sir, Mr. Johnson."

More grinding gyrations.

I used my left arm to press the youth's torso to my left thigh.  I took the
opportunity to slide my right thumb, out of sight of the other boys,
towards David's anus.  I measuredly pushed my thumb nearer the moist
pucker; once, twice, thrice.  David pushed back on my last attempt. My
broad thumb tip made contact with an unmistakable contrast – delicate
puffiness atop a taut, but yielding, annular muscle.  At this point my cock
head slid very near to escaping the bottom of my boxers.  The feel of
seeping wetness from my half-retracted foreskin presented the distinct
threat of evidence of my not solely pedantic interest in the proceedings
and demanded a swift conclusion to the disciplinary session.

Returning to the business at hand, I gave two more crisp smacks, yielding
yet more masturbatory wiggles from the boy in my lap.

"I think your attitude need be more respectful in class, David."

"Yes sir."

Two more stinging smacks to each cheek caused the thirteen year old to
catch his breath.  The boy's nates had become distinctly pink.  David
ground his hips with greater ardor.  I was having trouble with such
stimulating eagerness.  I noticed the smirks from the boys lined up a few
feet away and decided to end the proceedings.

"Very well, David.  I think you've learned your lesson."

I knew David hadn't finished and he wasn't shy in seeking more time to
reach his climax.

"But, Mr. Johnson, you gave the others more spanks," the prone youngster
noted accurately.

I was quick with an answer as another moment with this boy in my lap would
mean an obvious rod in my pants.  I am sure David could've felt my plump
member if he weren't so charged up himself; then again, maybe he did.

"You've had enough, David," I said with feigned concern for the boy and
real concern for my near boner, "This is to remind you to behave, not to
inflict serious injury."

"But, Mr. Johnson ..."

I knew what the boy was really saying, but I couldn't wait any longer.

"David, enough is enough.  Stand up now."

David did so, but he had a look of frustration on his face.  He also had a
quite prominent reason for his dissatisfaction – an engorged, reddened,
rampant staff.  It looked painful in its stiffness and probably hurt more
than his bottom.  His scrotum was retracted and tight.  My taint twinged
sympathetically.  I imagined that David would be compelled to relieve such
an aroused state at the earliest opportunity.

"Pull up your pants and join the others in line, young man."

David put himself away and took his place in line.

The boys stood before me uncomfortably.  Yes, in part because of the state
of their crotch: David quite fully erect and Eli, still boned up, as well;
Joe looked to be semi-hard again after watching David in my lap.  Both Joe
and Oleg stood in a posture that indicated a need to allow for the clammy
remnant of their load in their underwear.

However, the main reason for their uncomfortable state was mental.  They
had revealed themselves - horny boys barely in control of their cocks.  And
they couldn't hide behind the social façade of a teacher supposedly not
knowing their true goatish nature.  Certainly they found it personally
titillating to have had such an unexpected and novel sexual experience, but
they were embarrassed, temporarily at least, at such an obvious display
before their friends.

I, on the other hand, found the preceding a delight and a pleasure,
needless to say.  The practical result was that the likelihood of any
further significant behavioral problems was remote given the threat of any
intimation of their punishment being referred to in class before the other
students.  In addition, I had the immediate pleasure of recalling the
visual and tactile sensations of my afternoon's work with four distinctly
differentiated and gifted young male students.  And, of course, there would
be the inevitable whispers and innuendos of what sort of punishment the new
teacher Mr. Johnson actually gave after class if one misbehaved.  This
would lead the adventurous to risk finding out for themselves if the rumors
were true and, consequently, more of the job-related perks that led to my
commitment to educating burgeoning youth.

I dismissed the four with a few suitably admonishing words.

"Have you boys learned your lesson?"

"Yes sir, Mr. Johnson."

"Is there going to be any more poor behavior on your part in my class
again?"

"No sir, Mr. Johnson."

"Are you going to be good boys now?"

"Yes sir, Mr. Johnson."

And they were. One more so than the others.


Dear Reader,

    This is a story I debated finishing and came back to after letting it
languish for quite a while.  Let me know if you found it satisfactorily
amusing or if it was lacking in your estimation. And, whatever your
decision, please consider a contribution to Nifty for providing such an
extensive resource of erotic writing.

Sincerely,
    Five Hole Punch


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