POWERLESS BOY - BY SPANKJOY Part 1
Paul Taylor's new neighbours were a father and son. The father, Dave Mountford, was an international trader, often travelling the world. The son, Richard, was just 13, slim not thin, well-proportioned, brown hair, smooth skin, lightly tanned.
Over the first month or two, Paul got to know Dave and Richard. Richard's mother lived abroad with another man and had no part in their lives. Dave was a distinctly old-fashioned father, fond of saying how strongly he believed in the belt and the cane - and clearly Richard was afraid of him.
Then one Friday evening, Dave called round and said he had a problem. He had been summoned to a client in Venezuela who needed his presence for two weeks. He couldn't take Richard because he was in school. Would Paul consider taking Richard in? He was aware that Paul was taking a break between teaching jobs and felt Paul would be ideal for Richard. Paul had no problem in agreeing.
The following day, Dave brought Richard with his suitcase. "I've told Richard that I expect him to behave perfectly. If he fails to do so, you have my permission to punish him physically any way you choose, or you can tell me when I get him back, in which case I'll thrash him. Won't I, Richard?"
Richard hung his head and nodded.
"I'm sure that won't be necessary, Dave. Have a good trip."
Paul ushered Richard into the house and showed him his bedroom. They had a friendly weekend together and on Monday Paul drove him to school.
At lunchtime that day, there was a phonecall from the School Principal. Richard had been suspended from school for ten days after writing an obscene note which had come into the possession of a teacher. Paul collected Richard and drove him home in silence.
Once back in the house, Paul told Richard to put his schoolbag in his room, and report back to him still in his school uniform, in the study. Richard returned shortly, looking pale and anxious.. but also strangely vulnerable and attractive in his short-sleeve white shirt, school tie, black trousers and shoes. Paul was sitting on a chair by his desk; he had Paul stand in front of him and tell him the story, which Richard did, honestly so far as Paul could tell: he had said in his note that one of his male classmates wanted to give another of his male classmates a blow-job.
"How will your father react to hearing about this?"
"He'll kill me, Paul."
"How exactly will he kill you?"
"I'll get the cane."
"How many times?"
"Enough to cut me."
"On the arse?"
He nodded. "Then he'll keep me off school until I've healed up - so they don't see the marks."
"He's done it before?"
He nodded again. "Please don't tell him. I'll take any punishment from you. It's not just what he'll do to me, it's the teasing I'll get. He'll never let me forget about what I wrote."
"You say you'll take any punishment from me. I take it we are talking about physical punishment?"
"Anything."
Paul felt a gathering excitement. Richard was handing himself over. He started to imagine having this very attractive boy completely at his mercy, to think what he could do. "So..." he became aware that his heart was racing, that there was a slight tremor in his voice, ".. you'll do whatever I order...?
"Yes."
"I see...." He let a pause develop, the better to worry Richard. "Well... I think we'd better test out this promise of yours to obey me - and I should warn you that if you disobey in any way, I shall give up on you and hand the whole issue to your father. Understand?"
"Yes..."
"I think we'll have, 'Yes, Sir'. No more 'Paul' for a while."
"Yes, Sir."
"OK then, Richard - and without asking why - go and draw all the curtains and blinds in the house, turn on the lights, and report back here."
Richard did as he was bidden and returned to the study. "Now, remove your shoes and socks and take them to your room." For a moment, Richard looked surprised, but he did what he was told and was soon back again.
"Good. Now. I've decided that since you have behaved like a small boy, younger than your age, I will treat you the same way. Little boys do not dress or undress themselves, do not wash themselves and make no real decisions. And naughty little boys have their bottoms smacked or get sent to bed when they are naughty. I have decided, first, to send you to bed to consider your wrongdoing. Later, I will call you down for the next part of your punishment. But before I send you upstairs, I shall remove your top clothes. Stand closer."
Richard stood between Paul's thighs as Paul undid his tie and unbuttoned his shirt. Paul stood and removed the shirt, placing it on his desk - Richard wore a light blue T-shirt beneath. Then Paul unzipped Richard's fly, unbuckled his belt, opened the top snap and pulled his trousers to his ankles. The T-shirt was short and covered little of Paul's boxers. Paul looked at Richard with anticipatory pleasure. "Step out of the trousers." Richard stepped out.
Paul picked up the trousers, shirt and tie and said, "I will look after these. Now, we will go to your bedroom." In Richard's bedroom, Paul also confiscated all Richard's luggage except a pair of white Y-front jockey briefs and a white vest, as well as white socks and trainers. "You change into these when I call you down", he said.
Paul left Richard to stew all afternoon and eventually called him down at about six in the evening. Richard duly appeared, looking very fetching in his whites, the underpants displaying a pleasant but soft little bulge in their crotch. Richard looked bashful and anxious.
"I expect you'd like something to eat before your punishment?"
Richard said, "Yes please, Sir."
"Good boy, you've remembered how to address me." He patted Richard's bottom approvingly, letting his hand linger just a little longer than was entirely necessary. "Come and do some washing up whilst I cook for us both."
There was quite a mountain of dishes to wash. Paul gave Richard an apron, which still left a very satisfying view of his firm, curved young rump. Eventually they sat to eat together in the kitchen. It was not a big table, mainly designed for Paul on his own - and Paul chose to sit on a bench on the same side as Richard, letting his knee brush up against Richard's. Richard's leg and thigh felt hot and - kind of friendly.
After the meal, Paul told Richard to wash and dry up, then report to him in the living room.
When Richard entered, Paul was seated on a high backed armless chair at the large dining table. He had Richard come and stand by his side. "Now Richard," he said, "today is the beginning of your punishment. I have sent you to bed and had you do chores. But as I have told you, naughty little boys get their butts smacked - and you have been a very naughty little boy. What have you been?"
Richard hung his head. "A very naughty little boy, Sir."
"Yes Richard. And what happens to very naughty little boys?"
"They get their butts smacked, Sir."
"They do, yes. So, first of all, let's have a look at this butt of yours. Come and put yourself across me." He placed his hand in the small of Richard's back and propelled him gently over his thighs, in such a way that his arse was upturned in the perfect position. It was a very attractive little arse. He lay his hand on the thin white cotton over the quite evident young crevice. Then he moved his palm over the whole surface of Richard's buttocks. "You have a strong, solid, young bum, Richard, quite muscular. Tell me, have you ever been smacked on the bare bottom?"
"Yes, Sir, by mum when I was younger."
"I see. Well you're a little boy again right now, aren't you, and little boys get spanked on the bare bottom. Where do little boys get spanked?"
"On the bare bottom, Sir."
"They do. So where will you be spanked, Richard?"
"On the bare bottom, Sir."
"Indeed, but let's make it a complete sentence. Say, 'I'm a naughty little boy and I'm going to be spanked on my bare bottom'." He patted Richard's bum encouragingly.
"I'm a naughty little boy and I'm going to be spanked on my bare bottom, Sir."
"Yes, you are. But tell me what we'll need to do before we can spank your bare little butt, young Richard."
"I'll have to take my Y-fronts down, Sir?"
"Nearly - except that you're a little boy..."
"You'll take them down, Sir." Was it Paul's imagination, or did Paul's thighs detect some pressure from Richard's crotch? Time to find out.
"Very well. Stand again by my side."
Richard clambered to his feet and stood to one side of Paul, but turning slightly forward.
"Turn properly side-on and put your hands on your head."
Looking very shamefaced, Richard did as he was ordered, revealing a semi-circular half-hardness in his underpants. "Aha!" Paul said, "Our naughty little chap has a naughty little _d_i_c_k_. It's going hard."
This had a galvanic effect - Richard's _c_o_c_k_ rapidly expanded.
"I think we'd better let it free - it looks uncomfortable," Paul said. He leant across and pulled Richard's Y-fronts to his knees. A lively young _c_o_c_k_, circumcised and five inches, sprang to attention. There was just the very beginning of pubic hair, the first strands. Allowing his face almost to touch the boy's _d_i_c_k_ and his nostrils to breathe in the sweet and entrancing smell, he pulled Richard's undies to his ankles and had him step out of them, enjoying the sight of his jiggling young boy balls as he did this. Paul carefully folded the Y's and placed them on the dining table. The white vest hid nothing significant. He had Richard remove his trainers but let him keep his white sport socks.
"Now bend back over my knees." He held Richard in place with his right hand and rested his left on the hot, white, tight young bottom of his intended victim. "What's going to happen now?" he asked quietly.
"You're going to smack my bottom, Sir."
"I'm afraid I am." he brought his hand down, hard, on Richard's left buttock. There was a satisfying smacking sound, an instant of whitening, followed by the arrival of the lightest shade of pink. He could still feel the boy's erection between his thighs. He attacked the other buttock in similar fashion, then repeated the exercize numerous times all over the young teenager's arselet, until he had begun to yell and writhe but not cry, until what had been hard was soft, until the upturned bottom was a bright shade of red.
"This," Paul said, "is only the beginning. Wait until tomorrow and then see what I have in store for you...."
[to be continued...]