The Truant


by Rick Hollins

'Come in, I want a word.'

Paul swerved away from his bedroom door and came into the lounge. He was just in from school, wearing his grey school pants and navy sweatshirt, neither of which looked particularly smart today. He stood near the dresser and looked John, his new foster carer, straight in the eye. 'What is it?'

'Had a good day at school?'

A slight pause then 'Yeah, I suppose so....Look can we talk later?.....I'm going out to see David tonight about the trip....I need to get changed.'

John was determined. 'What did you have this afternoon?'

'Er....English and Maths.' He knew. 'We are doing Macbeth....it's really good, Charnwood says I am a good reader........' His voice trailed off as he noticed John's eyes lower in that disappointed way he already recognized. 'You know, don't you?'

'Yes, they called at one thirty as we arranged after the last time. You know....the last time when you promised this would never happen again. The last time when I put my reputation on the line and gave them my word you would never truant again. The last time when we talked for hours about trust, honesty and truth. The last time when I wondered if I was right to let it go with just a short grounding.'

'I didn't want to go but they all said......' Paul knew he had to get some form of defence up and running.

'I don't want to hear it. On top of all this you lied to me when you came in....not even the guts or honesty to admit it. I've had it Paul, you are going to have to pay a penalty for this or you'll never trust or respect me again.'

'How long am I grounded for?'

'At least two weeks.'

'Is that one week before and one week after the trip? Paul was already thinking that John would relent after the school trip.

John was getting more and more irritated by Paul's lack of genuine remorse. 'No, it's two solid weeks starting today. The trip is off.'

'You can't do that, it's all paid for.' John was unmoved. 'Can't you think of something else?'

John had been told he could use any form of discipline that a reasonable parent would use. He had not considered physical punishment before, confident that his relaxed and open relationship would suffice. This was a crisis however and he had to think fast. 'You really deserve a good hiding.'

Paul looked almost amused. 'Yeah, right....and who's going to do that?'

'OK, a two week grounding it is then.'

Paul disappeared into his room and after dinner he tried again. 'John, it's a real waste of money if I don't go to Paris. Can't we come to some arrangement?'

John decided he had to be firm. 'I agree with you but there's only one alternative on the table.'

'I can't believe you'd hit me in cold blood. We're in the twenty first century. What would you do? Spank me?'

'Look, it's two weeks at home or whatever I decide, OK?' John was warming to the idea of giving Paul a taste of what he had when he was a lad. It had done him no harm.

'OK.'

'OK what?'

'I'd rather get it over with and see Paris.' ' Sure?' John was giving him a last chance to back out.

Paul didn't know what to expect but thought it would be almost funny having 'gentle John' smacking him. 'Yes, I'm ready.'

'Right, go to your room and strip down to your boxers.' John spoke casually as though this was an everyday request.

'You are joking.' Paul laughed but John's straight face emphasized the seriousness of the demand. 'God....you're not are you?' There was no need to answer. 'It feels perverted....'

John cut in. 'It is not perverted, it is traditional and right and you have agreed to it. Now do it!'

Paul left the room with a nervous smile on his face shaking his head in disbelief. In his bedroom he slowly removed his shirt. He looked across at the mirror. He had been pleased at the way his body was growing – at 14 he had the start of a six-pack, his arms had muscle and he had wisps of hair under them. He undid his trousers and after slowly kicking off his shoes, slid them down and off. His socks were next and he sat bent over on the edge of his bed feeling very small. He looked down at the hairs appearing on his lower legs and thought this can't be happening. He heard music in the lounge....John must have turned it up....why?

The door cracked open. 'Right, come through here.' This felt weird –absolutely normal in one way and totally off the wall at the same time. The lounge was the same; the music was quite loud.

'I don't want any fuss or too much noise. The neighbours don't need to hear this.' Again that casual voice. Paul just nodded in agreement as he stood with his hands covering the opening of his boxers. He had started to develop down there and noone had seen his dick since he was a kid. Did he have enough hair to be called a man yet? Unbelievably, he was hardening! Being almost naked and standing so close to someone was exciting – even in this situation. John's calm voice made him jump.

'This has to be serious and memorable for it to work....do you agree?' Paul was rapidly changing his mind.

'Look, I'll take the grounding....'

'Too late. There's no going back now.' John sat down on the sofa. 'Stand in front of me, hands by your sides. Look at me.' Paul shuffled to a spot in front of the dresser and complied. His dick was just beginning to peep through the slit in his boxers. They both noticed. Paul closed his eyes in abject humiliation. 'Look at me, I said.' John sounded sharp for the first time. As Paul's eyes opened he noticed a reddening on John's neck. Was this embarrassment, anger or something else?

'You have truanted, lied and let me down. You have agreed to a good hiding in any way I decide – is that an accurate account of where we are?'

Paul could barely speak through shame and regret but muttered 'Yes.'

'You will receive ten smacks for each of the three misdemeanors, a total of thirty. Understand?'

'Yes.' Come on, get it over with he thought.

'And....you will receive the punishment naked.' John had just decided on this part. The sight of his foster son, older looking than he expected without clothes, was strangely exciting to him. He wanted and needed to see his _c_o_c_k_, his source of teenage pleasure, which he heard him milking almost every night. Above all he wanted Paul to be totally humiliated and under his control for the next few minutes.

Paul was about to refuse when he too realized that there was now no backing out. The word naked had made him even harder. He was going to be seen nude and with an erection. He took hold of the bottom of each leg and began to pull the boxers down. The waistband forced his dick downwards as it progressed revealing a small but thick patch of pubic hair at its base. John found this very attractive, his eyes glued to the spot as the band suddenly released the penis, which sprang up and almost hit Paul's stomach. The boxers fell to the floor and with his eyes shut, Paul stepped out of them. Neither moved for about thirty seconds and the only sound was the music and John's increasingly heavy breathing.

'Come here.'

Paul moved the tiny distance across the room. His dick was now only inches from John's face. He took a minute to inspect it. About four inches long, half erect. Uncut, the red tip shining through ample skin. Hairless balls, gently swaying in the evening gloom. A musky, personal and private smell he was being forced to share. He soundlessly pulled Paul across his knee. There was no resistance. He could feel the hardening dick lodged against his right leg. Paul's hands rested gently on the floor to John's left and he placed his left hand firmly on the downturned neck before him. He raised his hand and brought it down on the right globe. The sound was much louder than he had anticipated, especially when Paul let out a short shriek of pain.

'Shut up or you will get more than thirty.'

Smack.

The second was as hard as the first but this time there was no noise from Paul, just a huge sniff....he was crying already.

Smack.

Smack.

After ten smacks, Paul's backside was turning a deep red. John briefly worried about bruising but knew he couldn't hold back....he had spoken....he had to do it all as stated.

'I'm sorry, I'm sorry honest....' Paul blurted out several times during the next ten spanks.

John adjusted his position before the last few causing Paul's legs to fall slightly apart. John noticed the few hairs that adorned his tight, musky hole. He gently stroked the crack, letting his finger linger at the entrance while his other hand slid up between Paul's legs until it softly touched the back of his tightening scrotum. Paul started to breathe heavily and John could feel the stiffening of his _c_o_c_k_ against his leg. Without warning Paul started to groan as he spurted a huge load. John could feel the throbbing and began to spank Paul's backside to the same rhythm, taking ten spanks in all.

It was over in every respect.

Paul lay motionless for many minutes. John could feel the boy juice, sticky and warm against his skin. When he finally got up, Paul turned to John, no longer concerned about his nudity. His flaccid dick and pubes were shining with drying cum. He neither smiled nor frowned....he simply said 'Thank you.'

'Enjoy Paris.' Was the only response John could muster.


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