Mr Noakes


by Spankjoy

When you are a fourteen year old boy, there is something uniquely embarrassing about being at school without underpants. You have the sense that even the normal detumescence in your school trousers is several times more visible to your classmates, all male in the case of this particular 14 year old boy.

All male; your class all the same age, all - however much they pretend otherwise - keenly interested in comparison. Showers were not compulsory in Stephen's school, but there was still... comparison. Boys looked at one another's bulges, furtively, momentarily, but they did, all the time. And Stephen's pubescent young bulge was by so much less protected.

Less protected - and, when as now without undershorts - more stimulated. Because this is this other problem with being shortless, pantless, that your energetic and volatile young organ is forever in creative friction with trouser material rougher, less desensitizing, than your cotton undies. And when then, instead of - like your classmates - getting an erection three or four times a day whilst you are at school, you are instead in a state of almost perpetual arousal, that lack of underwear makes your excitement eminently, vulgarly, visible. So you spend your time covering up: covering up by sitting down, sometimes at the strangest and least apposite moments; covering up with your school bag, draped unusually in front of you; covering up just with your hands if you must. It requires a perpetual effort of concentration.

To these elements of embarrassment and textile stimulation, feeding one off the other, there was added for Stephen, as this day advanced, the churning, surging awareness that school would end, as each day it did, and that he must return to Mr Noakes the Newsagent, deliver his newspapers and periodicals, and beg to have his underpants back; the underpants Noakes had taken away that morning - as he did regularly each school day, except when he gave special dispensation when Stephen had Wednesday afternoon sports and must needs change in the company of his peers.

This churning and surging, which occurred in his gut and his fourteen year old dick, did not pertain to the retrieval of his underwear. It related to other more intimate matters. To confession. To punishment. To forms of _s_e_x_ual indulgence which were forbidden to fourteen year old boys and their neighbourhood newsvendors. Anticipatory dread drenched in dreadful excitement. He ought not. They should not. He had no choice. He liked it. It hurt. It was ecstatic. It was unavoidable. He wanted it. He feared it. It shocked him. He couldn't wait. There was no escape. What if he was found out? Delicious, daring, deeply dirty and disgusting. He didn't enjoy it. He did like it. Trapped in a tasty web.

How and when had all this begun? Last lesson this Tuesday was dry as dust. As he worked on his assignment, Stephen had the chance to recall the very day, a month before, when, after his evening round, Noakes had caught him attempting to stuff into his schoolbag not one but four top shelf magazines, two straight, two gay.

"Stephen, what are you doing..?"

They were alone in the shop and Mr Noakes had just been locking the front door.

"I'm sorry, Mr Noakes, I... "

"Well, it's a bit late to be sorry. Show me the magazines... Ah, we have .. um.. unconventional interests as well as the more usual likes of 14 your old boys. I wonder what your parents will make of knowing that?"

"Please, Mr Noakes, I'd never live it down."

"And get the paddling of your life from your father."

Stephen's father was known in the community for the severity of his discipline. Over a chair, fully clothed, but Stephen's dad had a strong arm. All the same, it was less the beating Stephen feared than the humiliation. His father despised "queers" as he called them, the revulsion perhaps a reason why Stephen was so interested.

"Please, Mr Noakes..."

"Well, you'll have to be punished some way. Do you want it from me?"

"Oh yes, sir, anything."

And this had begun the ritual of the daily confession, the daily punishment, and, latterly, the aftermath, one might say the dessert, to sweeten the taste of the disciplinary main course. A very addictive sweet...

The end-of-school bell rang and Stephen's thoughts returned to the present, to the need to rise from his seat, covering his rock-hard fourteen year old erection. He adjusted his _c_o_c_k_ so it pointed straight up toward his midriff, pulled his shirt out of his school trousers and let it slip down over the front of his trousers. It was summer. A short-sleeved white shirt. They were allowed to be more informal after the bell. He set off for Noakes the newsagent.

The beginning of his encounter with Noakes each afternoon was no different from this. The shop was still busy; there were three other paperboys. You collected your papers, put them in your bag and set off to deliver them. By the beginning of the round, Stephen's penis had retreated to semi-tumescence, flopping around uncomfortably beneath his trousers, alternately softening and hardening. But as the round came toward completion, he began once more to think about what was to come - and his dick went rigid again.

At first after his detection, there had been questioning followed by spanking on the bare butt, his trousers and pants drawn to his knees. Then, as Noakes' knowledge of Stephen's innermost fantasies grew - and with it his power over Stephen - he had had to endure the daily loss of his underwear, only to be returned when he had complied that evening with Noakes' latest instructions. Then Noakes had 'kindly' offered to Stephen's parents that Stephen could do his homework there, at the shop and have tea with Mr Noakes before returning home. Convenient for Stephen's parents, to have one less boisterous boy - and that Mr Noakes seemed to be doing wonders for Stephen's general behaviour: he was much more subdued, one might almost say pre-occupied these days, and school was remarking on the improvement in his homework.

So it was this day that Stephen was walking back to Mr Noakes' shop, his bag empty, his dick solid and rubbing uncomfortably inside his trousers, aware that it was Friday, that he was with Noakes for another three hours, with no need to do homework, because Noakes would expect him to do that after the Sunday paper round. What would Noakes expect of him tonight? What would be done to him? What would they do together?

Noakes also, as he began to close the shop and saw off the other paper boys, was beginning to feel his own excitement mount. Noakes, the pillar of the local community; Noakes the local councillor; Noakes the organist at the Baptist Church. In mid-forties, thin and quite tall, balding and with gold-rimmed spectacles, conventionally dressed. Noakes the friend of little old ladies. Noakes the thinker of impure thoughts and now, the doer of impure deeds.

Noakes certainly had the impurest of impure thoughts right now. The return of fourteen year old Stephen. Stephen of the light brown hair and the still smooth boyish skin. Stephen with the 5" dick, beginning to grow some hair down there. Stephen of the curvey, solid young bum. Stephen stripping. Stephen being stripped. Stephen in various stages of undress. Stephen at his mercy. Stephen in his arms. Stephen's hands on his penis. Stephen's mouth...

Stephen walked in to punctuate the fantasy. They were both rock hard, though perhaps at that moment, that actual moment, each was only aware of himself.

"Shall I lock the door and draw down the blind?" Stephen was aware of a _s_e_x_ed-up quiver in his voice; Noakes simply knew we needed the door shut.

"Yes, Stephen, then go get your tea - it's in the oven. I want a shower. I'll be with you when you've cleared up tea." Noakes was too keyed up to want to eat. Stephen didn't eat a lot, himself. This was upstairs, above the shop, where Noakes had a two-floor apartment.

Stephen washed up after tea. Noakes re-appeared. "Where...?"

"I think in the storeroom, Stephen. I've been .. developing .. it a little further."

The storeroom was where it had all started. A cellar area, full of cases, crates, periodicals and journals, dead stock, stock waiting to be put on shelves. That was where Stephen had his first bare butt spanking, deep in the soundproof cellar, where no-one could hear a smack or a yell. But Noakes had started, as he rightly said, to "develop" the cellar. Stephen had last been down there a week before, also a Friday, when there had been less stock, when there had been a leather settee and a leather stool and even some carpet. He had straddled the stool and bent over the settee.

As Noakes opened the storeroom door and turned on the light, Stephen gasped. The old stock had completely gone, the new was well to the back. The room had off-white carpet, wall-to-wall. There was the black leather settee, but now also two black leather armchairs. Still the black leather footstool, but now also a vaulting horse on adjustable legs, a TV with VCR, red flock wallpaper, spotlights...

Noakes adjusted the lighting switches and the room went sleazy red. He shut the door behind them, locked it and pocketed the key. "Come sit on the settee with me," he said.

They sat down, half-facing one another at opposite end of the settee. "Confession time!" Noakes said. "How many times have you wanked since last night?"

"None, Sir."

"Have you wanted to?"

"Yes!" Stephen smiled.

Noakes smiled back. Noakes was not a cold man. He liked Stephen.

"What thoughts made you want to?"

"Some of them were about.. well about what we do. Remembering and thinking..."

"And...?"

"And some were about a boy in my class."

"Ah. What does he look like?"

"He's small for his age - and short. Brown curly hair. Cute freckly face"

"Nice arse?"

"Cool. Really cool arse."

"But small. You like small arses?"

"They're kind of... _s_e_x_y."

"Shocking. What did you imagine doing with him?"

"Getting him somewhere, maybe the woods. Getting him stripped."

"With his agreement."

"Better without."

"Oh we have been a naughty boy. You fancy forcing him to strip."

"Is that so bad?"

"Bad enough to get yourself some spanks. What happens when you've got him stripped and helpless?"

"Oh... we mess around..."

"You mess around. What does that mean?"

"I'm not sure really. The fantasy doesn't really get beyond stripping him..."

"Ah.. sounds like we need to supply some techniques to expand your imagination, but first I think some punishment. Stand up and kick off your shoes."

As Stephen did this, Noakes adjusted a white spot so it illuminated Stephen. Then he sat back on the settee, reached forward and unbuttoned Stephen's shirt. "Take it off."

Stephen removed his shirt, letting Noakes survey his firm, tanned young chest and upper abdomen. "Very nice," he said, reaching up and stroking Stephen's nipples until they went hard. "Very nice indeed." He brought his hands down to Stephen's waistband and undid the belt of his trousers. "I see we are already excited," he said, squeezing Stephen's shaft through the trousers. Then he unclasped the top clasp, unzipped and pulled the trousers to Stephen's ankles, letting Stephen's _c_o_c_k_ burst outward almost to touch his face. There was a wonderful gamey smell and a transparent drop of pre-cum at the head of Stephen's circumcised _c_o_c_k_. Noakes licked, just once, enjoying the salty taste of fourteen year old pre-cum. Stephen started with surprise; Noakes had never used his mouth before.

"Step out of the trousers."

Stephen did so. Now he was just in his black school socks.

"Time you had a shave," Noakes said.

"But I've not started...."

"Not there, here." Noakes grabbed some strands of pubic hair and tugged gently.

"But what if...?"

"What if the other boys see, when you change for sport? You'll just have to keep those underpants on, won't you." Noakes produced a towel, on which he had Stephen sit, and some depilation cream. Soon, Stephen's _c_o_c_k_ and balls were entirely bald; there was no hair to remove elsewhere.

"Very nice!" Noakes exclaimed. "Straddle the footstool and bend forward."

The effect of straddling and bending forward was to raise Stephen's arse for inspection and to open his arsecheeks wide, revealing his tight, neat young arsehole. Noakes sat on the low settee, the stool in front of him, and began to spank, not too fast, not too slow, one cheek then the other cheek, high up, low down, building a regular pattern, ensuring that Stephen's arse was reddening in a uniform way. Soon, Stephen was grunting with pain, then occasionally hollering, then yelling out, writhing and wriggling with every spank.

Noakes was not a cruel or excessive man. He was building Stephen up, a little more pain each time. He liked to see the boy writhe and howl, but not too much. He stopped, panting himself with all the exertion. He was hot. He removed his trousers and shirt, so he was only in T-shirt and shorts. He patted the red butt. "There, there," he said. "Now you've earned some fun with your uncle Noakes." He turned the settee around, so it was diagonally set toward the TV/VCR, and had Stephen lie face down with a cushion under his head, so he could see the screen. "I promised to show you some techniques," he said. "Watch this, while I put some some soothing cream on your arse."

Stephen liked the soothing cream, though he had never been shown a video before. He hunkered down on the settee as Noakes started the video.

It was a film about two boys, one maybe 13, the other perhaps 15. They started dressed but didn't stay that way. Stephen felt Noakes' hand and the cold, soothing cream beginning to work itself round his hot arse-cheeks. Stephen's dick, which had softened in the punishment, began to grow beneath him. The boys were naked on a large bed. The older one was fingering and greasing the younger one's arsehole. Noakes' fingers slid down his arsecrack. A gob of cream pressed around his arsehole. Noakes had never done this before. The older boy's finger went right up the younger boy's arse, to the hilt. "How disgusting!" Noakes' finger suddenly slid right up inside him. "Hey!" Stephen said, suddenly alarmed at this intrusion.

"Go on!" Noakes said. "You like it." Noakes' finger was easing in and out of his hole. He had to admit to himself, it did feel quite relaxing - and very disgusting. The picture on the screen had changed. The younger boy was sucking the older boy's _c_o_c_k_. The older boy came, partly in the younger boy's mouth, partly all over his face. How disgusting! But the younger boy was grinning and licking cum off his lips, wherever his tongue could reach. Stephen became aware that there were two fingers inside him, wandering around. He was rock hard.

The fingers withdrew. He felt quite disappointed. The fingers re-appeared at his lips. He became aware that Noakes no longer wore any shorts. "Lick the fingers."

"I can't do that!"

"Want another spanking? They'll taste OK, I promise. It's your arsehole, not mine."

There was no _s_h_i_t_ on the fingers. He licked. They tasted OK.

"Good. Now lick this, like I licked yours." Noakes thrust his eight inch dick at Stephen's lips. Stephen licked up the transparent ooze. It was OK.

"Good boy. Get up off the setee and come over here onto the vaulting horse."

He helped Stephen astride the horse and had him lean right forward, keeping his arse at the near end of the horse. The horse was lowered a little and Noakes produced a box and stood on it so his _c_o_c_k_ as level with the boy's arse. Then he produced two leather straps, with which he tied the boy's legs to the back legs of the horse.

"Very good," he said, positioning a spotlight to illuminate Stephen's arsehole, which looked just a little red after its recent exercize. He re-greased Stephen's arsehole and re-inserted his fingers. "You like this, don't you Stephen?" he said.

Stephen did, but felt bad about admitting it. "Kind of."

"OK, well 'kind of' try this." Noakes withdrew the fingers and pressed a slender silver vibrator against the boy's slightly opened butt-tube. He greased the vibrator and pressed it forward. Just for a moment, it was uncomfortable and then it was inside, cool and strange. Noakes worked it in and out a few times, then worked it right back in and switched it on.

"Yeeaaow!" Stephen yelled. "What are you doing to me?" The vibrator was moving up and down, in and out, churning his guts and causing him to fart rumbustiously.

"You like it. Admit you like it boy!" Noakes yelled with glee as Stephen ground his arse up and down, rubbing his dick into the cushionning of the vaulting horse.

Noakes withdrew the vibrator. Now Stephen's arse was wide-open and ready to receive. He coated his dick with lubricant and pressed forward. It was larger than the vibrator, but there was no real resistance. He began to work in and out, stroking Stephen's back, kissing and licking it, ruffling his hair, reaching beneath Stephen to hold his boy dick as he thrust back and forward.

"Ooohh," Stephen said, "Ooohh, _f_u_c_k_! Oh! Ah! No! Yes! Oh Holy _s_h_i_t_!"

And Noakes came inside him as Stephen climaxed, flooding the horse beneath him.

Noakes untied Stephen, took him in his arms, kissed his neck, his shoulders, and licked his sperm from off his body. "I think you've earned your underpants back tonight," he said.

xxxxx xxxxx


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