Date: Tue, 14 Aug 2001 04:53:50 -0400
From: Tom Cup <tom_cup@hotmail.com>
Subject: Spanked  -  G/M Y/A Auth HS

Spanked by Tom Cup

Copyright 2001 by the Paratwa Partnership: A Colorado Corporation. All
rights reserved.

No part of this work may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any
means electronic or mechanical, except in the case of reviews, without
written permission from the Paratwa Partnership, Inc, 354 Plateau Drive,
Florissant, CO 80816

This is a fictional story involving youth/youth and adult/youth sexual
relationships. If this type of material offends you, please do not read any
further. This material is intended for mature adult audiences. Names,
characters, locations and incidents are either the product of the author's
imagination or are used fictitiously.  Any resemblance to actual events or
locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

This story is part of the Tom Cup Short Story Galley

To support this and other stories by Tom Cup visit: http://tomcup.isCool.net


*****


Spanked
By Tom Cup


"How many times have you been late for class this week Scott?" Principle
Jackson asked.

"This is my third time," I whispered.

"Three times," He frowned, "The first time I let you go with a warning.  The
second time you got detention.  Neither of those seemed to work."

I heard the heavy desk draw open. I knew immediately what was about to
happen.  My ass muscles harden and I fought the tears that began welling in
my eyes.  I hated being paddled.  It wasn't the pain as much as the
humiliation of it all.  Being bent over the principle's desk, pants and
underwear down around my ankles, was bad enough but knowing that everyone in
school knew that I was heading for the paddling was the worst.

"Please Mr. Jackson," I begged, "I'll do better."

"I'm sorry Scott," he said standing up and moving around the desk, "This is
for your own good. Let's go."

I hated things that were for my own good.  Grown-ups only say that when
there is pain involved for the kid.  I bared my ass and leaned over the
desk.  The board cracked me four times.  I didn't cry; I wouldn't give Mr.
Jackson the satisfaction of seeing me cry.  I counted out the licks
stoically and when it was over got my permission slip to re-enter class.

Mr. Reese had been my favorite teacher until that morning.  I begged him in
the hall to let me enter class and not to send me to the principle's office.

Of all my teachers, I thought that he would cut me some slack.  He took
the entrance slip without even looking at me.  There were snickers from some
of the boys that knew what I paid for that slip.  I didn't even bother to
open my book for the class and when it was over gathered my things quickly
to leave.

"Scott," Mr. Reese said as I passed his desk, "I'd like a word with you."

Now I was pissed.  Hadn't he embarrassed me enough for one day? Now he was
making me stay after school as well. I sat back down at my desk and folded
my arm across my chest, defiantly staring at him.

"Sorry I had to send you to the principle," he began,  "but rules are
rules."

"You didn't have too," I insisted, "You could've cut me some slack."

"I suppose," Mr. Reese confessed, "But then the class would have known that
I was treating you different."

I looked up at him. "So?" I answered still feeling like he betrayed me,
"It's better than being paddled by that asshole."

Mr. Reese smiled. "Would you have preferred that I paddled you?" he asked.

"No," I whispered, "I didn't want anyone to paddle me."

"Oh," he said, "I see.  You just want to come and go as you please without
consequences."

"No," I argued looking up to find him smiling at me, "It's just not fair.
If an adult is late, it's assumed that there's a good reason.  If a kid is
late, it don't matter if a atom bomb was dropped on his house.  We get our
butt busted."

Mr. Reese thought about this for a moment.  I pressed on.

"It's true," I asserted, "You've been late twice this year and I bet you
haven't been paddled.  You didn't even give me a chance to explain.  You
just sent me off to be paddled."

"That's not true Scott," Mr. Reese argued, " I sent you to explain to Mr.
Jackson why you were late."

"Mr. Jackson doesn't give a shit about reasons why," I snapped, "He don't
even ask. It's just drop'em, bend over and whack, whack, whack, whack."

I realized by the expression on Mr. Reese's face that he was completely
unaware of how the principle dealt with us kids.  Silence filled the room
until I looked up at the clock.

"Shit!" I exclaimed, "I'm gonna miss my bus!"

"You can go," Mr. Reese said weakly, "and Scott, I'm sorry.  I didn't know."

I got to the bus lot just in time to see my bus drive away.  Great, I
thought, now I got to walk home.  This day was turning into one pain in the
ass.  I was about three blocks from school when Mr. Reese passed me.  He
circled back and offered me a ride.  I figured it was the least he could do.

I was telling him how to get to my house when he suddenly made a left turn
instead of the right I instructed.

"Hey," I said, "You're going the wrong way!"

"I know," he stated calmly, "I'm going to make today up to you.  Trust me."

What could I do? I sat back and went a long for the ride.  Mr. Reese drove
me to a small house about fifteen minutes from were I lived.  The house was
in a suburban neighborhood, grass lawn in front and back, and a track of sod
separating the houses.

As we entered, Mr. Scott directed me to the basement.  He closed and locked
the door behind us once we entered.  I was a bit frightened but curious
also.  The basement looked like a small apartment of its own.  There was a
bed in one corner, a desk with a chair in the other, and a stool in front of
the desk.

Mr. Reese went to the desk and pulled out a paddle.  I freaked. No way was I
gonna get another paddling.  No way!  I told him.  He shook his head and
said that it wasn't for me but for him.  He said that he had been wrong to
send me to the principle's office and the only way he could think of to make
it up to me was to let me paddle him.

He step out of his shoes and then striped off his pants and underwear.   I
stood shocked as I looked at my teacher's bare legs, swinging cock and low
hanging balls.  He walked over to me and handed me the paddle.

"You said that I was late twice," he said, "So I guess I should get two
paddlings for that and one for sending you to Mr. Jackson before letting you
explained what happened."

"I don't want to paddle you Mr. Reese," I said feeling both excited and
humbled by the situation, "I forgive you."

"No," he said, "Nobody forgave you. You can't forgive me."

He knelt over the stool, his butt high in the air.  I felt my cock stir at
the scene. I stepped into position admiring the smoothness of his ass.  I
lifted the paddle and swung as hard as I could, closing my eyes as the
paddle met his ass.

"One," he counted off.

Again I swung the paddle.

"Two."

"Three."

"Uhn... Four."

"Had enough?" I asked getting into the role.

"No sir," he answered immediately, "More, please sir."

I swung again and again.  Each time I hit that soft flesh, it reddened, I
felt my cock grow harder.  I adjusted my pants more than once in between
swings.  At about twenty-one whacks I was getting tired.  Sweat was rolling
down Mr. Reese's back into his ass crack.  I was sweating and panting.  I
slid down and sat propped up against the bed.  Mr. Reese was sort of
whimpering still bent over the stool.

"You can get up," I told him.

He slid off the stool on to the floor next to me, laying on his back.  He
was hard as a rock and panting.  He laid there for a while catching his
breathe before opening his eyes and looking at me.

"Feel better?" he asked.

I nodded and couldn't help adjusting my pants again.

"Here let me help you with that," he said sliding closer to me.  He stared
into my eyes as he undid my pants and pulled them down below my knees.  My
cock was jumping to the rhythm of my heart and the head was wet and
slippery.

"After this," he smiled, "We'll be even again."

I closed my eyes as his mouth engulfed my penis.  His hand fondled my balls.
  I moaned and laid flat on the floor.  His tongue swirled around my stiff
member, played with the slit and rolled over the head.  I began to cry out
in pleasure.  Small shots of pre-cum leapt from my body. My hips pumped
upward into his warm, moist mouth.  I grabbed his head and forced as much of
me into his mouth as possible.  He sucked harder casing more blood to be
trapped in my already blotted cock.  I began to tremble with delight.  My
balls rose toward my body.  My cock began to jump madly and I felt the
rushing of my boy juice leave my body and shoot into his mouth.

"Ugh, ugh," I groaned still holding on to his head and pumping my cock
wildly in and out of his mouth.  I kept pumping until my climax end and the
feeling in my cock returned to a nice mixture of release and tension.  Mr.
Reese released my cock and smiled at me.

"You see," he said, "I never learn. I'm a real bad boy.  Please make me be
good. Please."

In no time he was on all four. The paddle marks had left their distinctive
sign.  I ran my hand over the hot flesh. My cock led the way as I mounted
him.  It was the most wonderful, wet, hot, and comfortable feeling I have
ever had.  I pumped into his upturned ass with abandon as he yelled, "Spank
it! Spank my hole!"

Again, sweat poured off my body.  Again, my cock jumped and twitched.
Again, cum rushed from my body into his.

*****

I was tired when I got home but satisfied.  I had to go to bed without
supper because I was late.  That didn't bother me so much.  I realized that
some punishments are better than others.

End


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