He was simply beautiful.
This was even at first sight - and first sight was of Terry standing in the corner of the front parlour, face to the wall, hands on his head, dressed only in a white T-shirt and grey school socks.
I took it all in as I was ushered to an expansive chair facing across the room toward him. Even then, I could see that the twelve year old boy was slender, had dark brown hair and a well-formed pair of bright red buttocks. No, not just well-formed - like the rest of him, Terry's bum was perfectly formed.
His mother ordered him to his room to change into pajamas and bathrobe. As he stood, I could see he was perhaps a little over the average height for a twelve year old. His face was just so beautiful, almost doll-like in its perfection. He had brown eyes and the most seductive, long eyelashes you ever did see. Now his hands were down from his head, his T-shirt covered his pubes, so there was nothing to see there.
I settled to talking with his mother. Terry came and joined us after a while, lying, understandably, on his stomach on the settee. It was difficult to keep my eyes off him, hard to concentrate on what his mother said.
She was alone in the country, her family abroad. The long summer vacation was about to begin. She wanted a tutor. But he must be firm. He must not be .. seduced .. by Terry's humour and charm. She wanted a man who would take him in hand, who would be unafraid to do as she did, taking down his trousers, his underpants, or even humiliating him by stripping him naked, before spanking him. He needed a man.
We did our deal and I started my work with Terry. He was everything she had said. Funny, warm and, gradually, more and more affectionate. I noticed how, day by day, he sat closer to me as we worked, until eventually his knees were against my knees, his thighs pressly hotly onto mine.
I acted as if it was all perfectly natural. I let him make the pace in our friendship. And soon he was nuzzling his head against my shoulder and I was putting my arm around his shoulders, especially when he worked well. And in truth, there was no cause to punish him in those first few days, even though his mother kept reminding me, when she returned from work, that I could and I should.
Then one day I arrived and she was not at work as I had expected. She was agitated. Her mother had been taken seriously ill. She must fly home. She might be away several weeks. But what to do about Terry. Should he go with her? It would not be easy. There was little space where his mother lived. There would be nothing for Terry to do...
"I know, mum," Terry said. "Why can't Mr Lever come to live here and look after me while you're away?"
This had not occurred to her. "Could you, Mr Lever?"
Could I! I could. We did our new deal and she left, full of injunctions about having no hesitation to punish him in any way I thought fit... and so on.
Terry and I settled into a happy little routine, until one day I took him out to the seaside - and when it was time to go home, I suddenly had a little rebel on my hands. Not only was he scathing about my decision to go back so early, he sulked all the way home in the car.
We walked into the house. It was eight o'clock. "I'm going to bed," Terry said.
"No you're not," I replied. "You're going to talk to me about how you behaved today."
"No I'm not.." He made to go up the stairs to his room. I grabbed his wrist and stood firm. He tried to shake free and yelled, "Get off me!" I pulled him to me, put my arm round his slender waist, gathered him up under my arm and carried him, kicking and yelling, into the front parlour.
Sitting in the middle of the settee, I draped Terry over my thighs and brought my hand down hard on the wriggling seat of his black cordouroy trousers. He yelled out. I spanked him again. "You're hurting!" he yelled.
"We've only just started!" I yelled back. Holding him down by the waistband of his cords, I yanked off his trainers without unlacing them. Then I turned him over so he was lying on his back, his bum over my thighs. I pressed him down with one hand on his chest, whilst I undid his belt and unzipped his cords.
"You can't do this to me!" he screamed, tears beginning to well up.
"Oh yes I can," I said as I hauled down his cords to reveal his scarlet boxer shorts. "Or are you going to get sensible now and undress properly for your spanking?"
Just for a moment, I saw a glimmer of defiance in his eyes. Then it went away and whole body relaxed. A tear ran down his face.
"Come on!" I said, "I'll help you, Terry." I eased him off my knee and knelt at the front of the settee. He was just lying there now, looking helpless, his cords round his knees. I slid them off and then removed his socks. He looked at me with sad brown eyes. I unbuttoned his shirt, sat him up, and took it off his shoulders. He was just in his skimpy red boxers. "Lift your bum," I said, as I pulled them down and off his ankles. Terry was naked. He had a perfect little dick and balls, quite soft, no hair. He didn't try to hide anything, just looked up at me, soulfully.
"Let me sit on the settee again."
He stood. I sat in the middle. I put a cushion on my lap. He draped himself over it. I put my hand on his arse and stroked it. "You were very naughty, weren't you?" I said.
"Yes Paul. I'm sorry. I was disappointed."
"I know you were..." I let my hand wander up and down his back and buttocks.. "But you must learn to be sensible. we can go again tomorrow..."
"... Can we?!..."
"... But tonight you have to take your punishment, that's the condition..."
" I don't mind. I'm used to it."
" You may not be used to this.." I brought down hard on his little butt and then proceeded to thrash him until he was yelling out and writhing in pain, his arse a brilliant red.
I eased him off my knees, went up to the bathroom, and returned with a towel and some cold cream. I put the towel under him as he lay across the settee over the cushion on his stomach. Then I gently rubbed the cream in.
Some of it got stuck in his arse cleft, so I had him kneel on the settee, his head down, legs spread, arse in the air, so I could massage this into his inner cheeks. He had a perfect little arse hole, I could see it.
The temptation was too much, I let my greasy finger run across his little hole. To my amazement, he moaned with pleasure. "You like that?"
"It felt nice... and kinda naughty."
"Oh, you want me to do it some more..."
"I don't mind.."
I took some more cream from the tin and began to massage his sphincter properly. He moaned some more and actually started to press the sphincter out toward me. Seemed like an invitation; I let my finger slide up inside him. He moaned again. "You like that too?"
He nodded.
I started to explore his rectum. He was loving it; lifting his hips toward me; and now I could see his dick was hard beneath him.
"I see your dick's hard, " I said, reaching beneath him and holding it in one hand as I continued to penetrate him with the other.
Now was in complete ecstacy, writhing around in pleasure. So was I, kissing his neck, stroking his hair, thrusting my finger up his little arse and wanking him off until he actually came, in powerful spurts of clear fluid.
It was the beginning of an interesting friendship.
.... ....