' Tutor wanted for 12 year old boy, whilst parents are away abroad. General subjects. Firm disciplinarian essential. '
Robert Prendergast put his copy of the ad. away once more and walked up the drive to the house. These were clearly prosperous people; the house stood in substantial grounds. He rang at the door, which was answered by Mrs Andersen. He was ushered into the drawing room and introduced to her husband.
"We understand from your letter that you are prepared to exercize firm control over Peter. Does this include corporal punishment?"
Robert felt a cool excitement creep through his stomach and down to his genitals. "Yes, Sir, I think corporal punishment is absolutely necessary when young boys transgress."
"Good," said Mr Andersen. "When I was a boy, my father or mother thought nothing of stripping me bare in front of the servants if necessary. You may have complete control over Peter whilst we are away. Martha, call Peter here."
In short order, Peter entered the room with his mother. Robert noted that he was an attractive, well-proportioned boy, smooth skin, black hair, brown eyes. "This is Mr Prendergast, Peter. I've told him he is completely in charge whilst we are away. He may strip you, beat you, do what he likes. I want to hear nothing of it when I return or you will receive the same and more from me. Do you understand?"
"But dad, you never really...."
"I know, I know. I've been a whole heap too soft with you. Maybe I wanted to spare you the humiliations of my own boyhood. But your mother has persuaded me that we have to get tough..."
"I'm sure, Peter, that I will have no need to punish you," Robert said smoothly, with mental intentions entirely opposite.
"Maybe," said Mr Andersen, "Maybe... but if I return to hear that you have misbehaved, Peter, it will be a cane, a cane I bring back with me. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Very well. Mr Prendergast, we will see you tomorrow."
.............
So it was, the following day, that the Andersens went away, leaving Peter in the charge of Robert Prendergast.
They had lunch. After it, Robert took Peter to the shops, where he bought him the clothes he intended him to wear during his periods of tuition. Blue Y-front jockey briefs; blue cotton vests; black long trousers; white shirts; a striped yellow and black tie. Peter made it clear that he disapproved of these purchases - and did so impertinently.
When they returned home, Robert ordered Peter to change into his tuition gear and report to him in the dining room. Peter found him seated at the head of the table. Strangely, for it was still daylight, the curtains were drawn and the lights were on.
"Now Peter," Robert said, "I was not happy with your behaviour at the shops."
"But I..."
"NO BUT'S!" Robert shouted, slamming the palm of his hand down on the solid oak table.
Peter jumped. He was not used to being shouted at. Robert was a big, strong man, taller and a lot tougher than either of his parents. "Sorry, Sir, I didn't mean...."
"Never mind what you meant, child! Come here and stand by my side."
Peter nervously moved to Robert's side, but some distance away. Robert reached out and pulled him closer by his wrist. "Bend over my knee."
Peter tentatively bent forward and found himself swept off his feet, so he dangled each side of Robert's thighs. Robert placed his right hand on the small of Peter's back and his left, open-palmed, on Peter's arse, which immediately shifted nervously at the foreign intrusion into hitherto private space.
Robert let his hand stroke Peter's buttocks, adjusting the front of his own trousers to accommodate his rapidly expanding _c_o_c_k_. "A very spankable bottom, Peter," he said, now beginning to pat the seat of Peter's trousers. "Very spankable. I can spank you with your trousers on or I can take your trousers down. In fact, I can do anything I wish. You do know that, don't you, Peter?" His hand was rubbing Peter's arsecheeks again.
"Yes, Sir." Peter was feeling hot and slightly dizzy.
"And if I do punish you and you bring it to your father's attention - or if I do - he will cane your pretty little butt when he comes back. Won't he?"
"Yes, Sir."
"And you don't want that?"
"No, Sir."
"Well, then you're going to have to learn to BEHAVE!" As he said the last word, he brought his hand down on Peter's bottom with a resounding smack. Peter yelped. Robert hauled him to his feet by the belt of his trousers and surveyed the red-faced boy, who looked beguilingly dishevelled. "You may change into your night attire."
"My...?"
"Ah yes, I had forgotten to tell you. You will find pajamas in your room. Please wear no underwear beneath them. And take a bath or a shower before you come down for dinner."
Robert cooked dinner. Peter looked rather demure and sweet with his washed hair and scrubbed face, just in light blue pajamas. After dinner, Robert let him cuddle up as they watched television and enjoyed having his hand on the edge of Peter's arsecheeks.
The next day it was tuition time. Robert produced a chart with a plus and a minus column, explaining that if Peter ended up with more plusses than minuses at the end of the day, there would be no punishment; if it was the reverse, he would be punished. Peter was not particularly bad, but he was insufficiently attentive and by teatime he was at minus twelve.
"Oh dear!" exclaimed Robert insincerely, "I am afraid you have a punishment. Take off your shoes here, then go to the dining room and wait for me."
Robert made sure Peter had a good long wait, then entered the dining room, put on the lights and drew the curtains. He resumed his seat of yesterday, at the head of the table, and beckoned Peter to come stand in front of him, facing the table.
"Bend forward with your legs a little apart and your hands holding the table on each side."
Peter did as he was commanded. Robert surveyed the contours of Peter's young arse, well displayed in the tight black trousers; he could even see the outline of Peter's Y-fronts through the trousers. He placed his hand dead-centre on the seam of the seat at the level of Peter's belt, then let his fingers slide down the seam until his hand was actually between the boy's legs, almost at his scrotum, then he brought both hands to bear to feel each buttock, squeezing, kneading, fingering. "Ah yes, Peter," he murmured. "Really most spankable... but... but I think we shall add a little embarrassment tonight. Stand up and turn round to face me."
Peter did so, flushed once more. Robert pulled him forward by his trouser belt so he stood right up against the chair. Robert closed his thighs around the boy's legs. "You remember that your father gave me permission to beat you any way I chose?" Robert said slyly, engaging the boy's frightened eyes as his hand reached out to unclasp his Peter's belt. "I can strip you naked if I want," he said silkily, as he undid the top snap and pulled down the trouser zip.
"Sir please don't...." Peter said with anguish.
"Please don't strip you naked?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Well, maybe not this time, maybe never if you improve..." he pushed the chair back and pulled the trousers to Peter's ankles. "But you've seen the last of these and your shoes," he said, picking up the trousers. "Bend over the table as you did before."
Peter bent forward, grasping the table at each side. Robert slowly folded back his white shirt and vest and tucked them in the back of his collar. He sat back and surveyed the scene with satisfaction. An expanse of bare leg and thigh; blue Y-fronts leaving little to the imagination, but enough. He placed his hands on the seat of the boy's cotton pants and probed once more. Then he said, "Stand and face me!"
Peter stood and faced Robert - but quickly knotted his hands in front of his genitals.
"Put your hands by your side."
If it was possible for Peter to flush more, he did so now. There was an obvious erect young bulge tenting forward.
"Ah, I see we are a little excited," he said. "Come, bend over my knees."
Peter went to Robert's side and bent over. Robert placed one hand, as before, on his back, but this time his naked back, and began to spank - not once this time but many times, until Peter had started to writhe and yell out with the pain.
Robert stopped and let his palm rest on the very hot seat of the boy's underpants. He stroked Peter's bum and then his back until he felt the boy relax. Then he sent him to shower and change into his pajamas.
Peter was, strangely, if anything even less attentive the following day, perhaps because he was entirely unused to being taught without his trousers on. Of course, his white school shirt and underpants saved any overt embarrassment, but it was still the oddest of feelings. At the end of the day, well into the minus zone, he was duly sent to the dining room to draw the curtains, turn on the lights and wait.
"Right Peter," Robert said, once he had Peter standing before him. "You failed to learn your lesson yesterday. Now I shall bring you much closer to what you most fear." He reached forward and undid Peter's tie. Then he unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it from his shoulders. He had not finished. Telling the boy to put his arms in the air, he lifted off his blue vest. Peter stood before Robert, clad only in underpants and socks.
"Now," Robert said, "Collect a cushion from the drawing room and bring it back here."
When Peter returned, he had him place the cushion on the table, climb up onto it and kneel on the cushion with his head between his thighs and his arse well up in the air.
"Excellent!" Robert exclaimed, placing his hand between the boy's spread thighs, touching his perineum but not his scrotum. He brought his hand backwards and sideways to the legband of the pants and let a finger briefly slide underneath it, feeling the tight, hot young butt-flesh. Then he methodically once more stroked and squeezed the boy's arse over his underpants. "Going hard?" he asked.
Peter was silent.
Robert smacked once, hard. "I said 'Going Hard?' "
"Yes Sir."
"I see. So am I as a matter of fact. I like beating the arse off young men like you." He began to spank, slowly, methodically, each arsecheek in turn, until he knew he had Peter in pain. "Getting sore are we?"
"Yes, Sir." He brought his had down twice more, hard. Peter cried out. Then he let him go upstairs to change, just in his little pants and socks.
So it came about that the next day was much stranger, because all the curtains in the house were drawn and Peter was just in underpants and socks. And he didn't do any better with his work.
But at the end of the day this time Robert sent him to his bedroom and not the dining room.
Once in the bedroom, Robert placed two pillows in the centre of the bed and had Peter lie over them. Then he took off Peter's socks. Which, strangely, Peter was not expecting. It made him feel strangely exposed.
Robert sat on the bed facing the head of the bed and placed his hand on Peter's raised butt. "You only have these now," he said, fingering the waistband of Peter's pants before letting his hand slide a little way under so his middle finger could stroke the base of Peter's spine. Then he withdrew his hand and let it wander instead under the leg of Peter's pants and across to the base of his arse-cleft. "Embarrassing?" he asked.
"It is a bit," Peter agreed.
"But pleasant. Are you hard again, Peter?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Let's see. Turn over."
Peter turned turned onto his back. His midriff was raised up high by the pillows. "So you are." Robert reached out and placed hands on each of the boy's hips. "Just lift your hips a moment."
Peter was so much in the habit of obedience, he didn't connect with the intention. Robert hauled his pants to his knees before he could yell "OH!" Robert pressed Peter's wrists down to his sides. His hairless young dick pointed to the skies. "Very nice!" Robert said, pulling the underpants off his ankles. "You'd better get used to being without these" - he waved the last vestige of Peter's modesty before his face - "You're totally, stark naked for the rest of your tuition sessions."
........ ........