My ex-coach, Mr. Richard Broderick was adjusting nicely to his new career as a convict. Of course the harsh punishments that uncooperative inmates faced encouraged his modified behavior. I convinced my uncle that I could use some personal help with chores around the house, and that Broderick would be perfect for the job. The manual labor that all the inmates were required to perform had improved Broderick's physique. I noticed this when he reported for duty at the main house under my supervision. He presented himself to me in the library and stood in rigid attention. I put the book I was reading down, and I walked around my ex-coach to inspect him more closely. The tight uniform that was issued to him hid nothing. The worn cotton pants were so tight the seam was wedged between globes of his firm butt, and in front, the outline of his meaty _c_o_c_k_ was compressed against the bulge of his balls. I circled him slowly so I could smell strong scent of this macho pig. His face was tense probably because he finally realized who I was, and that he would be at my mercy for the duration of his stay at the camp.
"So Mr. Coach, you thought you were such a tough guy, do you still think you're tough?" I asked.
"Sir, no sir" was his curt reply.
"Your mouth says no, but your eyes say yes, drop ass-hole and give me fifty," I ordered. He immediately dropped down with his head just inches from my feet, and started to do the push-ups. He did them flawlessly, but I thought that he wasn't counting loud enough. "You call that counting 'em out?" I shouted at him. "You disgust me, get up and get into the punishment position." He stood up, turned his back to me, spread his legs wide and bent over grabbing his ankles. In the last couple of days he had a lot of practice getting into this position, for me and for the other guards. I went over to the desk and returned with a long wooden paddle. It was my uncle's frat paddle when he was the pledgemaster in college. What an honor it would be for Mr. Broderick to be punished by this almost sacred icon. Before the paddling began, I had to test the target with my hands. I patted his ass a few times letting my hands run down the muscular thigh. I felt that his humiliation at my hands might even be more painful than the actual punishment itself, so I continued with my roaming hands. I reached up and firmly grabbed his crotch. I couldn't fit all of it in my hand no matter how hard I squeezed. I could hear his teeth grinding together, but fear prevented any other noise. I thought having him strip for me before the paddling would add to his humiliation, so "Convict, you have too much padding down there," I said while I continued to add more pressure to his crotch. "Strip down boy, I want you to feel every swat!" I stood in front of him with my arms crossed with a huge grin on my face. I even detected a faint blush on his handsome face, although by this time I thought he would have overcome any hint of shyness. Then I figured it out. It was me that made him blush. It was the embarrassment of stripping for the "little faggot" who actually wanted to see him naked, and I loved every minute of it. He pulled off the T-shirt, kicked off his shoes and finally unbuttoned his pants. They were so tight he had to squirm a little to get them off. "You're moving too slow convict, do you want me to add twenty more licks to your punishment?"
"Sir, no sir" he solemnly replied as he removed his pants and resumed the punishment position.
Now that he was naked, it occurred to me that the longer I prolonged his punishment, I would actually be punishing him more by the mere fact of his humiliating position. I walked around this big man to stand directly in front of him. I reached down and pulled his hair until he strained his neck enough to look up. What he saw was the front of my pants, and the already hard _c_o_c_k_ confined within. He knew better than to move his hands from his ankles, but he did close his eyes. "Open your eyes, you _f_u_c_k_!" I said as I stepped closer. I pushed my crotch right up to his nose and rubbed it hard. I rustled his hair a bit, and held his chin up in it's strained position, and asked him coyly, "are you a faggot, Mr. Broderick?" He said nothing. I slapped him hard and said "I asked you a question convict."
"Sir, no sir" he quietly answered.
"I say you are. Are you calling me a liar, boy?"
"Sir, no sir."
"Well, then are you a faggot?"
"Sir, yes sir" he said with a trembling voice.
"Do faggots like to suck _c_o_c_k_, boy?"
"Sir, yes sir" he said with even more trepidation.
"Then you, being a faggot, would love to suck my _c_o_c_k_, wouldn't you?"
He hesitated, took a deep breath and sniffled "Sir, yes sir."
I had made him cry and I was elated. I looked down to see the tears silently drip down to his chin. Even though I was hot and really bothered, this was not the right time. I exclaimed, "I knew it! You faggots are all a like. Well you're not getting this _c_o_c_k_; you haven't earned it yet, boy. We have a date with a paddle."
I could see the physical relief in his body. I think the pain from the paddling he was about to receive wasn't even crossing his mind, yet. I picked up the paddle, and took the proper position to the side of the bent over convict. I reached down and circled one hand around the base of his balls to steady myself, and let the paddle fly through the air until it contacted the naked ass. The loud WHACK echoed throughout the room. His perfectly formed ass showed a bright red spot. "Let's have you count these out convict" I ordered.
Whack! "Two, sir." Whack! "Three, sir." Whack! "Four, sir." Whack! "Five, sir.".........
This went on for almost fifteen minutes. His voice had cracked a couple of times. His nose was running so he was constantly sniffling. By the thirtieth stroke, the tears were streaming again. His ass was bright red, and a few blisters were starting to form. Periodically I would pause to stroke his burning ass. By the fiftieth stroke, he couldn't contain his pain any further. "Ow, oh, sir, please...." he begged as his whole body trembled with pain.
"Are you going to be a good faggot from now on, boy?" I mockingly said to the now truly humbled man.
"Sir, yes sir" and he surprisingly added, "Whatever you want, sir."
Had I broken him? I thought to myself. I think not!
To be continued, maybe........