Date: Thu, 3 Apr 2014 11:17:41 -0400 (EDT)
From: SykQuinn@aol.com
Subject: A Lesson Worth Learning

This is not my story, but was written by a friend who asked me  to post it
for him. Any comments can be sent to me and I will forward to him. I  hope
you enjoy.


A LESSON WORTH LEARNING by Nobelegg


Early October in central Indiana, deep in the  heart of the Midwest, meant
one thing, and one thing only: Halloween! Everywhere  along the highways and
roads in the Back 40s, to utilize the parlance of the  locale, could be
seen fields of brown corn stalks, which only weeks before  sported a crop so
rich and golden, King Midas would have been envious.
A closer look at many of these fields near local  communities would expose
a sort of maze to entertain and challenge all comers,  near or far. No two
mazes of dying maize were identical, save for one important  feature: the
stalks were so high that when someone was engaged in traipsing  through the
man-made natural labyrinth, only the direct path ahead and the sky  could be
seen. Only Goliath would be able to scale the upper surface of the maze  with
his eyes, but he would lose his way almost as easily as he lost his  head.
The sun in the sky rose a minute later each  morning, and set a minute
earlier each evening, giving those who wanted to risk  the mazes more darkness
in which to play. More often than not, a guide would  have to be summoned to
lead a wanderer from venturing further astray to the only  exit the maze
availed. In a sense, those who managed the attraction were not  only proud of
their creation and its alluring feature, but also laughs when  those allured
would be compelled to send up a yell of distress, imploring  someone --
anyone -- to come and help. This went on every October evening, weather
permitting, of course, for in Indiana, if there is but a single thing most
predictable, it is the unpredictability of the weather. Many families have owned
their farms for generations upon generations, passing the secrets of the mazes
to scions to create when they took over the farms.
In the small hamlet of Kingston, Indiana, located  almost along the
north/south county line separating Henry and Wayne counties, a  three-storied brick
school building, the likes of which cannot be found on a  contemporary
engineer's planning desk, provides a quality education for K-12  students. Set
on the southernmost outskirts of town, Kingston Community School  hoists no
state basketball championship banners. The in-wall trophy cases are  empty,
the glass shelves laced in dust almost as old as the building itself when  it
was erected nearly half a century ago. Yet, in every classroom, a neat and
pristine aura could be seen and nearly heard to bid each student a
down-home  welcome to another day of learning.
Kingston, Indiana, itself is adorned with seasonal  flair -- not because it
is 1957, but because the denizens of Kingston are  celebrating their town's
sesquicentennial anniversary. On November 1, right  after all the
trick-or-treaters are stuffed with candy and their parents are  safely home from
annual reveling of mayhem and innocent mischief, the streets of  Kingston would
be lined with people from all over the state attending a parade,  followed by
a plethora of long-winded and meaningless speeches by urban  dignitaries
and state government officials. Rumours have it this year, the  Governor
himself plans to attend, but that remains to be seen inasmuch as it is  yet two
weeks from now.
Looking outside his office window at the clouds  forming overhead, blocking
out the sun but not marring the Indian Summer  weather, Principal Max Stone
offers a rare smile on his face even his reflection  in the window finds
hard to interpret. A proud man of exceptional education,  Principal Stone
takes immense pride in his office. For as long as he can  remember, not a single
student ever dropped out from school, and every student  who passed through
his supervised halls at Kingston Community School either  graduated from
high school or moved away beforehand. Of course, that does not  include the
one student -- oh, what was her name again? -- who entered a convent  at her
mother's insistence (relax, dear reader; there was no scandalous reason
behind it; sorry!) when she turned fourteen back in -- well it hardly matters
now, particularly to Maxwell Elliott Stone. As far as he was concerned, his
record of producing educated students who turned their tassels remains
unblemished. Perhaps this was why his wry smile escaped his face for the
disbelieving reflection.
Turning around, Principal Stone glanced at a stack  of papers neatly
arranged in a perfect pile, one atop the other. A closer look  revealed to Stone
the papers were signed parental release forms from students in  Mr. Stover's
senior Biology class to attend a hike through the corn maze  adjacent to the
rear of the school building, starting when class began the last  hour of
the school day, and to conclude near 5:00 P.M., when all students are to  be
collected from the front of the school by their parents. A quick look at his
watch told Principal Stone the time for the students to head out for the
maze  was drawing nigh, and if he had any intention of accompanying them,
unbeknownst  to -- yet expected by -- the class of seniors, then he had better
get his coat on  and head to the classroom.
Leaving his office via his secretary's cubicle,  Stone waved a nonchalant
hand to Miss Dean, who waved Stone off with the same  apathetic gesture. Not
looking back, Stone headed to the classroom, located in  the far eastern
basement corner of the school. There, in the corridor, fastening  up coats and
sweaters, Mr. Stover's class of eager hikers were chatting in  hushed tones,
exhibiting respect to the adjoining classroom full of students  poring over
textbooks of unspecified ennui. With the agile dexterity of a nun  during p
rayers, Stone came alongside Andy DuFresne, an incredibly intelligent
student who was outstanding in math and accounting. It was spread all around
town that Andy DuFresne wanted to leave Kingston for the great State of Maine,
where he would someday become a CPA, working for a prominent bank. Such was
 Andy's fortitude and temerity to pursue what he wanted until he eventually
got  it, regardless of what it could possibly be.
In conjoined silence, Principal Stone acknowledged  Andy while Andy nodded
a courtesy obligatory compliment. The group was ready,  but one final roll
call had to be conducted. With his grade book in hand, Jack  Stover read off
each name in alphabetical succession, noting a vocal "HERE"  response
before progressing to the ensuing student's name. With eighteen names  came
eighteen "HEREs", so Jack tucked his grade book inside his overcoat, closed  and
locked his classroom door, and, together with Principal Stone, mushed his
students outside the school doors an onto their hike just across the dirt
lane  that ran parallel with the school. The road belonged to the town of
Kingston,  but everyone knew when snowy weather claimed the road, Principal
Stone would be  the one out there in the wee hours of the cold mornings to plow
the road so his  faculty could park their cars in the lot along the western
wall of the  building.
Within ten brief minutes, Jack Stover began  issuing safety regulations to
his students. They were allowed to explore the  maze, but only on a buddy
system, meaning no one was permitted to travel alone.  According to the circle
of eight girls, that was perfectly fine with them; they  had heard an
endless barrage of horror stories occurring in the maze they were  about to
enter. Or was it the one on the other side of town? Or how about the  one owned
by the Bjornsens? With due provocation, Bjorn Bjornsen issued a
dissatisfying frown to the girls he deemed more of a coven than a group. The  moment
passing, Jack Stover received verbal certification that every student
understood the rules and would comply by them seconds before he bade them to  have
fun. Jack and Principal Stone would take their own tour by following the
students ten minutes hence. This gave the students ample time to do some
discovering on their own.
Andy DeFresne and Bjorn Bjornsen had been friends  forever. Their birthdays
only weeks apart, the older Andy adopted Bjorn as his  best friend, being
Bjorn was an only child. Throughout their lives, they  involved themselves in
one mischievous antic after another, typically one step  ahead of being
taken to the woodshed by an adult whose property they maligned.  Tonight would
be no different. The maze waited for them to enter, and they  certainly had
no intention upon being disappointed when it was overtly astute  another
adventure beckoned them.
Two-by-two's, the students entered the maze, Andy  and Bjorn taking up the
rear. According to Bjorn's watch, they had five or so  minutes before
Principal Stone and Mr. Stover were to follow, so they decided to  take full
advantage of their freedom. Instead of venturing this way and that  through a
pattern of uncertainties, the boys decided they would cut straight  through the
cornfield and beat everyone else out on the other side. With  unleveled
stalks slapping them in their faces throughout their arduous trek, the  boys
could not help but laugh at their prank.
About half-way through, Andy told Bjorn he had to  stop for a minute and
take a leak. Bjorn did not complain; his bladder seemed to  be saying the same
thing: "If you do not go now, you are going to go now."  Standing beside
each other, the boys unzipped their own flies in unison,  extracted their
penises, and began to urinate. Steam from their urines emanated  into the
crisping air.
As if an automatic reaction, Andy took a  not-so-innocent glimpse down at
Bjorn's penis, making a mental note how it  seemed the younger boy's penis
was growing before his very eyes. Having turned  nineteen two months prior,
both boys were amazed at how much they each grew in  turn since they first
met. Now, standing next to his friend, Andy recognized his  friend's penis was
considerably larger than his. Temptation getting the better  of him, Bjorn
deliberately looked down at Andy's penis and commented on how  strong it
looked.
"You should try holding it," Andy implored with  mocked sincerity.
"May I?" Bjorn countered. Andy hardly expected  this response from his
friend, but since the offer was out there...
"As long as I can hold yours," Andy retored. With  an impish smile on
their faces, the boys in tandem reached down to not only  touch their friend's
fully erect penis, but to stroke it as well. His eyes  rolling back in his
head, Andy could not help but say, "Damn, Bjorn, that feels  so damn good."
"It does not feel so bad from my side, either,"  Bjorn said with a
sinister smile. For an instant, Bjorn released Andy's penis to  undo his pants and
lower them and his briefs to his ankles, encouraging Andy to  follow suit.
As they stood there, half naked from the waist down, the boys  returned to
stroking their friend's hard penis.
Andy again closed his eyes, sensing the sensual  feeling streaming through
his body. His smooth butt cheeks tightened up, his  sphincter sealed to
allow all the elation to flow frontward.
Bjorn likewise closed his eyes while Andy's hand  brushed up against his
blond pubic hairs. If this is what heaven feels like,  Bjorn thought to
himself, I could die right now. Bjorn gained a tighter grip on  Andy's penis,
making certain he would not accidentally extract any of his  friend's deep brown
pubics. This was supposed to feel good, not to incite nor  incur pain. With
a heavy breath escaping his lungs, Bjorn took his thumb across  Andy's
penis slit to feel a thick goo Bjorn recognized by his own masturbating
experiences as cum. Bjorn knew if he did not stop, Andy would soon ejaculate,  much
as Bjorn felt would happen to him as well.
But he could not stop. He would not stop. Nor  would Andy, and that
justified everything. No one in Bjorn's cognizant life had  ever touched his penis,
let alone seen it. From peeking to watch Andy's  reactions, Bjorn was
certain Andy could make the same claim. They were both  sexual virgins in every
way, but today, all that changed.
Their minds focused within their sensuality and  manipulating their friend'
s penis, neither boy heard Principal Stone and Mr.  Stover as they emerged
from the corn row to where the two boys were enjoying  each other.
"What in Sam's Hill do you two boys think you are  doing?" Principal Stone
barked. It was all Jack Stover could do to stand there  with surprise
running rampant through his mind.
In utter shock, both boys immediate stopped  masturbating each other and
scrambled to recompose their person as much as their  clothing.
"Do not bother with your pants, boys. Leave them  where they are, down by
your ankles," Stone ordered. Out of fear and knowing of  further
repercussions stemming from outright disobedience when an authoritative  figure issued
an order, the boys complied, lowering their heads in embarrassment  and
shame. "Who started this?" Stone continued.
Neither boy was willing to say a word, not wanting  to ruin a lifelong
friendship.
"Not talking?" Stone inquired. After an eternity  in the passing of a
second, the boys stoically remained in place, silent, but  shaking in obvious
apprehension and trepidation. Being caught literally  red-handed with your own
pants down is quite humiliating, to say the least, but  to be caught with
another boy while his pants are also down adds to the olio.  However, to make
it all worse, as if it could not ever get any worse, there they  both were,
pants down, their hands on the other boy's penis, clearly  masturbating
their friend. Nothing such as this had ever been heard around  Kingston,
although Bjorn had heard of such things, only to discard them in his  mental
DISBELIEF file.
"Mr. Stover, you take Andy, I will take Bjorn,"  Principal Stone ordered.
Walking to the boys, it was evident they boys knew what  was in store for
them, so they offered no resistance. Stover, on the other hand,  had no idea
what Stone meant, so he chose to watch and follow.
Principal Stone took off his jacket, laid it as  neatly as he possibly
could on the ground, and began stomping down stalks of  dying corn to provide
him more room for what he was about to do. Stover took the  hint and did
likewise with a vague idea as to what was about to occur. When  satisfied over
what he had done, Stone called Andy to him before propping his  left leg on
its toes. With his hand, Stone motioned for Andy to bend over his  knee. "Hold
onto your legs, Andy," Stone ordered to a clearly shaking Andy  DuFresne.
Bjorn Bjornsen needed no further instructions. He  walked himself over to
his teacher and waited an extra second while Stover also  propped his left
leg to allow Bjorn to bend over it. Grabbing his legs and  squeezing his eyes,
Bjorn did not have long to wait. Already he could hear  Principal Stone's
hand-spanking Andy only feet away from him. By the time Mr.  Stover commenced
spanking Bjorn, Stone had administered no less than four quick  swats.
Bjorn could hear them all, loud and reverberating against the  still-standing
stalks of corn. But that was not all Bjorn could hear. His friend  for as long
as he could remember was doing something Bjorn always believed was
impossible.
Andy DuFresne was crying. Stone was giving it to  him good, and Bjorn was
sorely afraid Stover was going to...
And with that, the first of innumerable hand swats  administered from Jack
Stover found its guided and deliberate way to Bjorn  Bjornsen's bared
bottom. It did not take many before tears swelled in Bjorn's  eyes and then
streaked down his face before alighting upon the ground. Stover  was a determined
spanker, of that Bjorn had to learn the hard way. At least it  would be over
soon.
One untimed minute expired. Then two. Three. Four.  Damn, Bjorn thought
through his tears, how long can this man spank?
As suddenly as it began, it was over...for now.
"Since neither of you boys are willing to accept  responsibility for
initiating this unthinkable act, you are both being spanked  by both of us," Stone
affirmed, his voice as commanding as ever. "Andy, you  report to Mr.
Stover. Bjorn, get over here." Seconds later, Round 2 began, only  this time
Principal Stone had something else in mind.
"Bjorn, grab your ankles," Principal Stone  demanded, taking time and
effort to remove his belt from around his waist. The  boy complied, more afraid
than he could remember ever experiencing throughout  his entire life. Never
mind the time he jumped off the top of his family's tool  shed, holding his
mother's parasol in one hand as if the umbrella would slow him  down. Never
mind the broken arm he suffered from this blunder. Never mind the  chewing
out his father gave him, and warned him had he not have broken his arm,  his
father would certainly have broken his ass.
Time was unkind to Bjorn that very second as the  first of a seemingly
endless assault of belt swats found their way to his bared  bottom. Across from
him, Andy DuFresne was also be spanked by Jack Stover's  thickset belt.
And then it was all over. The boys were told to  straighten themselves out
and promised if anything like this ever happened  again, not only would they
be disciplined with greater intensity, but their  school student records
would reflect their unacceptable deportment.
"Now, you two get back into the maze and join your  classmates," Principal
Stone told them. Neither boy needed a repeat performance;  with that, they
were out of the rows of corn and en route to the maze. Only two  minutes
behind them, clearing the standing corn, Principal Maxwell Stone and  Biology
teacher Jack Stover emerged, clearly tired from having to administer  such a
harsh discipline to two of Kingston's brightest and most promising
students. By now, the men were just over half-way to the maze's end. With idle
chatter, Stone brought up the high school's basketball team as if nothing had
happened.
Jack Stover was not so easily dissuaded. Never in  his life, either on the
giving or receiving end, had he experienced such  discipline. The word
around the school was he could not even spank his dog, and  he would never allow
his wife to, either. Jack was clearly shaken up, but he  knew he was strong
enough to recover. If he could recover from tending to his  father the last
years of the old man's life, the unfortunate victim of  Amyotrophic Lateral
Sclerosis, better known as Lou Gehrig's Disease, then this  was considerably
minor.
It is never easy watching someone you love willow  away to practically
nothing. Jack Stover's hands were tied when it came to  helping his father. He
helplessly watched as the man he respected and revered  all his life
perished, one body cell at a time, from the God-fearing,  fire-and-brimstone
preacher no one could deny not only knew the Word, but lived  it every day of his
life. Even on his death bed, the elder Stover joked and  laughed as if he
were the same man Jack loved and idolized. Six months to the  day after Jack
Stover buried his father, he returned to society, again dedicated  to his work
at teaching students.
The lessons he had to teach this day were  something not found in any
textbook or child-rearing book as far as Jack Stover  was concerned.
Nevertheless, what Andy DuFresne and Bjornsen were caught doing  totally went against
Jack Stover's upbringing, spiritual and otherwise. The boys  had it coming,
and as a teacher, he would have failed them each had he refrained  from
spanking them.
"...go undefeated this year," Principal Stone to an  unattentive Jack
Stover. "I certainly hope so," Stone went on, unconcerned if  anyone actually
heard a word he ever had to say.
The inimitable Maxwell Stone came from a military  background. His father
served in the early years of World War II, and returned a  war hero, whose
personal military bearing and regimentation were found in every  nail, every
brick, every droplet of mortar of his home, not to mention every  pore of his
offspring's bodies. The oldest of five boys, when the senior Stone  was
with his military unit, however long that might have been, Maxwell took
immediate charge of the household. He never had to say anything to his mother;
she seemed well versed on what his father expected the way it was. His younger
 siblings, however; that was an entirely different matter altogether. Many
times  Maxwell took one to a bedroom and spanked his bared bottom, ever in
his father's  stead. There were even times he had to spank two together. If
there was a  singlemost thing Maxwell Elliott Stone believed with absolute
certainty, it was  the Biblical adage of sparing the rod. Throughout his adult
life, Maxwell Stone  adhered to this tenet, even with his own sons, both of
whom were in their  twenties, even to this day.
"...hear they have a 6'7" center. Going to be hard  stopping him, but I
think we can do it," Principal Stone tarried on to an  unconcerned Jack Stover.
By the time they were about three-quarters into  the maze, Jack Stover
heard a rustling sound off to his right. "I think we may  have some stragglers,"
 Stover told Stone, nodding in the direction of the noise.  It was clear
that much noise could not be produced by a common renegade farm  animal.
Placing a hand to Principal Stone's chest to halt the administrator,  Jack Stover
listened carefully. Sure enough, there seemed to be another student  who
veered off the course for the mysteries of the cornfield.
Together, the men walked to where Jack heard the  rustling noises. From
what Jack could determine, whoever was making the noise  remained at least ten
feet from them. Shrugging his shoulders, Jack led Stone  into the corn, but
halted them before they located the source of the noise. In  the next row,
unaware he had been spotted, a man easily of twenty-two years  stood,
completely naked, and persistently reaching for his bottom as  if...
Oh, surely he was not doing that, Stone thought. A  split second later,
Stone could make out the boy's entire features. He had red  hair, about 5'9"
at 130 pounds. His eyes were an off-green, bordering between  blue mixed with
gray laced with green. He had no body hair other than in his  groin area,
and his penis was at full attention. A whisper of delightful pain  burst
through the boy's lips as he continued to insert a rubber penis inside his
anus, stroking it in and out, caressing it to please him as no other could or
ever has up to now.
"Max, you go on with my class, and release them to  their parents. I will
take care of this one," Jack Stover encouraged. For once  in his life,
Maxwell Stone, the rigid golem of a man in Kingston Community  School, found
himself utterly speechless, and as such, discovered himself  actually complying
with Jack Stover's suggestion. He left Jack with the  red-headed boy for the
sanctuary of the senior Biology class, all of whom had  returned with agog
enthusiasm over having successfully finding their ways out of  another maze.
Even Andy and Bjorn were chatting, laughing, patting others on the  back. As
far as this outing was concerned, all is well.
Back in the cornfield, Jack Stover watched the boy  masturbate and plunge
the dildo deep into his butthole. Jack did not know this  boy, but he did
know he was not on school property, so in all likelihood, this  field belonged
to this boy and his family.
Emerging from hiding, Jack asked, "What are you  doing, son?"
"Minding my own business, Sir," the boy replied  with utmost respect and a
hint of spewed acid.
"I can see that," Jack said, "but what do you  think your father would say
if I were he?"
As if thunder struck him senseless, the boy  stopped, even dropping his
dildo from his hand. "My father is in the house, not  out here," the boy told
the impatient Jack.
"But what would he do, son?" Jack  inquired.
"Probably spank the life out of me, Sir," the boy  said, now understanding
where the conversation was headed. "Are you going to  tell my father, Sir?
I hope not. Please, Sir."
"Well," Jack began, "I think with my being the  responsible adult, I
should take matters into my own hands, then. Would you not  agree, son?"
His head lowered, the boy gave a slight nod before  walking toward Jack.
"I presume you have a name, son," Jack  said.
"Yes, Sir. My name is Samuel. Samuel Reynolds,  Sir. And this is my family'
s farm."
"I understand, Samuel. What should we do about  this?" Jack queried.
Before Samuel could voice a response, he was bending over  and looking up at Jack
to begin.
"Are you sure, Samuel, this is what you want?"  Jack asked.
"Sir, it does not matter what I want as much as it  is what I need, Sir,"
Samuel answered. Another glance upward at Jack told the  teacher it is okay,
and he can begin anytime at all.
Saying nothing, Jack removed his jacket for the  second time on this class
outing, only this time, this was not one of his  students, although he felt
it was his obligation to spank the boy. Raising his  right hand high in the
air, Jack spanked Samuel. The swats were many, even more,  Jack thought,
than he had administered to Bjorn and Andy combined.
His arm tired, his hand sore, and Samuel's bottom  a deep red about to turn
bluish-purple, Jack decided to stop. He relented,  however, when a pleading
look from Samuel implored him to continue in any manner  he could. Using
his left hand, Jack obliged Samuel, stopping one inch from what  Jack deemed
as being abusive.
Samuel could not stop his tears from drenching his  face and blurring his
vision. His hairless bottom, only moments before smooth  and flawless, was
now overheating from one of the most powerful spankings he had  ever received.
Saying nothing, not even a word of gratitude, Samuel got dressed  and
scurried to his farm house.
Jack stood there for a moment, feeling proud of  what he had done to all
three boys today. There were lessons needing to be  learned; more, there were
lessons needing to be taught. Jack worked both sides  of the teacher's desk
that October afternoon.
Maxwell Stone would not see much of Andy DuFresne  or Bjorn Bjornsen for
the rest of the school year. They each graduated as  co-valedictorians, and
shared the limelight at their high school commencement.  He never spoke to
anyone about that day in the corn maze, and retired with a  special ceremony
honouring all his dedication to his position as Principal of  Kingston
Community School. The night of his retirement banquet, the mayor of  Kingston
proudly awarded the man a plaque saluting him and his undying efforts.  Before
being offered to speak, then-Principal Maxwell Stone shook hands with His
Honour, the Mayor Bjorn Bjornsen.
Jack Stover saw Andy DuFresne and Bjorn Bjornsen  throughout the remainder
of the school year. On the day the boys graduated from  Kingston Community
School, Jack handed them their diplomas, shook their hands,  and rendered
them a respectful `I forgot everything' nod, leaving the boys to  their
individual futures. For the rest of his teaching career, all with Kingston
Community School, Jack Stover felt a definite pride in his students, in himself,
and in his school.
Just as everyone expected, Andy DuFresne went on  to college, majoring in
Accounting and winding up a CPA for a major bank in the  State of Maine. The
people of Kingston never lost pride in their own son, even  though years
later, Andy Dufresne was falsely convicted of murdering his  cheating wife and
sentenced to a state correctional facility in Shawshank,  Maine. In time, "Andy DuFresne, who crawled through a river of shit and came  out clean on the
other side. Andy DuFresne headed for the Pacific." As it  turned out, he
and a friend of his nicknamed Red ending up in Zihuatanejo,  Mexico.
Samuel Reynolds eventually left his family farm to  pursue a forbidden
life. Having many boyfriends in his past, and rejected and  emotionally abused
by all of them, Samuel found peace with an older man who  loved him for who
he was, and never for what he could provide out of his wallet.  For once in
his life beyond his familial scope, Samuel Reynolds finally found
unconditional love.
And his heart never looked back.