A couple of readers emailed asking if I'd write something with a younger hero. So here's a tale loosely based on something that happened when I was a (very bad) kid. Let me know (ozwiz45@hotmail. com) if you like it and there will be more of young Zack's misadventures with Mr Burke and his friends.
Part One: End of term
It was the end of term. The other boys had all gone home, either with their parents or on their own. Every boy that is, but Zack. His parents hadn't yet arrived and Mr Burke, his class teacher, hadn't been able to contact them, so Zack was left waiting in the upstairs library while the teachers had their own rowdy end of term party in the staff room downstairs.
From Zack's point of view, this situation wasn't so surprising. His parents had a history of forgetting about him. When he was younger he was a quiet, shy kid, easily cared for, easily ignored. Now, mid-puberty, he'd become what they described at dinner parties and at their recent parent-teacher meeting with Mr Burke as 'a real handful.'
Burke had told them he'd found Zack to be a bright high-spirited kid who needed firm discipline if he was to achieve his full academic and personal potential. Zack's father agreed and told Burke he shouldn't spare the rod, whenever he thought it necessary.
The following day Burke kept Zack back after class for a chat. Zack acted unimpressed. He wouldn't make eye contact with Burke and shuffled his feet, stared at his sneakers, hiding behind his floppy blond hair.
"I told your parents you could do much better and that I thought you needed some discipline," Burke explained.
"Thanks for nothing," said Zack sullenly. "I pass with OK marks. That's enough, isn't it?
"No. Not for you. You could do much better than that. I'd like to see you amongst the top students. You're capable of it. From now on you'll report to me each day after school and we'll examine how you're going, not just in my classes, but in all of them. I'll be talking to your other teachers as well. Fail to do your very best and there will be punishment."
"Dad reckons I need a good belting sometimes," Zack looked at Burke and half-smiled.
"How regularly does he have to discipline you?"
"Like a spanking?"
"Yes."
"He hasn't done that for ages. Not for years. They don't know much about what I get up to anyway. And when they do find out, he just gets angry, shouts a lot, says I'm grounded, then gives up and gets on with his own stuff. All I do is stay out of his way and it's over. Or they aren't home to keep me grounded. Anyway, by the next day he's generally forgotten about punishing me."
"I'm not like that. I'm right on your case now. And I keep my word when it comes to punishments. Your father has given me permission to administer discipline when I have to. And I intend to do so."
That conversation had taken place a month ago and since then, each afternoon, the two had met and talked in Burke's office. Zack responded gradually to Burke's interest in him, but the improvement in his written work was almost immediate. Then, over the weeks, as they got to know each other better, Zack had opened up to Burke, becoming only too eager to earn his approval and praise.
Corporal punishment hadn't been necessary. Zack's attitude and manner had changed. The other teachers agreed, there had been a remarkable improvement in Zack's behaviour since Burke had taken him under his wing.
Burke had contacted Zack's father, personally inviting him to the end of term celebrations. His father said they had also noted a marked change in Zack's behaviour, thanked Burke for his time and effort, and promised they would both attend. So, assuming they were running very very late, Burke had left the boy upstairs waiting.
Mr Burke entered the library. Zack was at the far window, bent over the sill, his upper body outside the building. For a 14 year old, he was tall, perhaps a bit thin, but it was an athletic body that would soon start filling out. Burke couldn't help noting his cute round bottom and the outline of his briefs beneath his tight school trousers. He hadn't yet spanked Zack, but he knew that when the time was right and Zack believed he deserved punishment, he would readily submit to it.
"I finally got through to your father, Zack. He's been in a meeting," he said. "He said to say sorry but he can't make it, nor can your mother. They're having dinner with your father's clients in the city."
Zack turned, obvious disappointment written all over his face, "I wanted to show them my science project in the lab."
"He said they won't be home until very late tonight," said Burke. "I suggested I give you a lift as it's now too late for you to be catching the bus and the train. So come on, grab your things and let's get going. Do you fancy some take-away Chinese or pizza on the way?"
"Yes Sir, that would be great. I love pizza," Zack enthused.
As he was shutting the window, Burke noticed an empty chocolate box on the library floor. And below the window, in the car park, were several cars, including his own, with what looked like large blobs of brown bird_s_h_i_t_ on them. Burke locked the window and turned to face Zack who was giggling nervously, his chocolate-stained lips, the final obvious clue.
"Why?" Burke demanded.
Zack shrugged. It was the kind of defiant, sullen pose he had adopted during their first couple of late afternoons together.
"Talk Zack."
Zack shrugged again, looked away and snickered.
"As you seem to either not know or not want to tell," said Burke, "there's only one alternative. Bend over this chair."
Zack slowly obeyed. Burke picked up a wooden ruler from the desk and began whacking his bottom. Left then right, left then right, with increasing intensity. Whack whack.
"Not so funny now, is it?"
Silence from Zack. Whack whack. Whack whack.
"Is this getting through to you?"
Whack whack, full force with the ruler. Still silence from Zack. Whack whack. Whack whack. He was one stubborn kid. Next time it would be pants-down, but for now, this was enough. Whack whack.
"Am I getting through to you?"
Whack whack. Zack was rigid, his hands tightly gripping the legs of the chair, his long blond hair hiding his face.
"Just say when you're ready to speak, Zack, and I'll stop." Burke could tell the boy was almost at breaking point. Whack whack. Whack whack.
"I can keep going all evening. It's up to you boy." Whack whack.
"Enough Sir," Zack finally sobbed.
Burke gently pulled the boy upright and hugged him. The boy hugged back, melting into his arms and crying into his chest.
"I'm sorry Sir. They were a present for my parents, and when they didn't turn up, I started eating them. Then I got bored and pissed and the window was open... "
"And my car was directly beneath it," said Burke.
"I'm sorry," Zack sobbed. "I'm really sorry Sir. I didn't think about whose cars they were. I'll be good for you from now on. You'll never have to do that again."
"Well Zack, I'm sure you'll try. But I'm certain this won't be the last time I have to spank you. Some boys are special. They need discipline to keep them in line. That's the kind of boy you are. You may as well start getting used to it," said Burke softly.
"Yes Sir," said Zack. "I'll try Sir. I promise."
They disconnected and Zack collected his belongings.
"I'm taking you back to my place," said Burke. "You can wash your face and tidy yourself up before I take you home. I want you to know where I live. For starters my car will need washing this weekend. You didn't have other plans, did you?"
"No Sir." said Zack, now smiling from ear
"So my boy," asked Burke, as they left the building, "What kind of pizzas am I ordering?"
The two sat on the couch in Mr Burke's lounge room, the remnants of two pizzas on the coffee table in front of them. Zack squirmed uncomfortably.
"Sore bottom?" asked Burke.
"Yes Sir."
"I'm proud of you. You took it really well," said Burke.
"I know I deserved it, but it really hurt. Still does."
"It was meant to hurt," said Burke. He went to the cupboard and returned with a large jar. "This should take the sting out. Drop your pants and let's have a look at the damage."
Zack looked shocked.
"Come on," said Burke. "I've seen plenty of boys' bottoms in my time. Your skinny butt is nothing special."
Zack stood up and turned his back on Burke and began undoing his trousers.
"I prefer to administer discipline on bare bottoms. Can you guess why?" asked Burke.
"You like to perve," replied Zack, giggling.
"Nice try. But no. It's so I can see what effect it's having. Some boys holler at the first stroke. Some, like you, are stubborn. I prefer to see what's going on so I can judge when you've had enough. It's meant to be painful, but not to do serious damage. Plus boys find it humiliating to have to lower their pants. So a bare butt spanking has a greater impact on them."
Zack's pants had hit the floor. The tails of his thin shirt covered a pair of tight red cotton underpants. His legs were long, well-tanned and muscled.
"Bend over. Hands on the coffee table."
Zack complied. Burke pulled his shirt back.
"Underpants down."
Zack obviously liked wearing brief Speedos. Their white shape was plain to see on his cute bubble butt. Burke began gently rubbing cream into it. There was no damage done, no lasting welts, just a generalised redness. He let his finger linger in the butt crack. Between Zack's legs he could see Zack's _c_o_c_k_, stirring to an erection. His balls and the crevice behind them was hairless but it was a reasonable sized, cut _c_o_c_k_, growing larger as Burke gently rubbed the cream in. Without being asked, Zack parted his legs wider.
"Now who's the perve?" Burke asked. "You like having your butt played with?"
"No... Sorry... Yes Sir ... It feels real nice Sir," mumbled Zack, embarrassed. "I like it Sir."
"Don't worry," said Burke, gently fingering the lips of his hairless hole. "With some boys that's just how they are. And often it's boys like you who need regular discipline who like this as well. That's OK, you can play with yourself."
Zack's hand had strayed to his _c_o_c_k_ and he was slowly jerking off. Burke continued fingering him. In less than a minute Zack was spurting cum all over the empty pizza boxes.
Burke parked outside Zack's house. The lights were out. Their cars weren't there, so his parents still weren't home.
"You'll be OK alone?" asked Burke. "Maybe you should leave them a note asking them to ring me when they get in."
Zack panicked, "You aren't going to tell them about me spitting chocolate on your car and having to be spanked, are you Sir? My dad will go spare. He reckons you're the first decent teacher I've ever had."
"No Zack. You've been punished for that so it's over and done with, except for the reparations; that means fixing the damage you've done, in this case, washing my car. I'm just not keen on leaving you alone in the house."
"I'm often in bed asleep by the time they get home," said Zack. "It's OK Sir. It happens all the time. I'm not a little kid."
"All the same, here's my phone number," said Burke, scribbling on a scrap of paper. "Promise you'll ring if you need to?"
"OK Sir..." Zack took the paper and opened the car door. "Can I come over tomorrow morning and wash your car? I could ride over on my bike. It's not far. Please Sir."
"Sure. See you then."