Coach Johnson told me to meet him in his office after school. Of = course, I knew why - he was going to paddle me for missing swim practice the day before. I'd cut practice in order to clean out the = garage before Dad got home. It was either cut practice and get paddled by the Coach or not clean out the garage and get spanked by = Dad. I thought the paddling was definitely the lesser of two evils; my Dad spanks long and hard and virtually anything is better = than one of his spankings. But I made the wrong choice....... Then again, maybe it was the right choice......
I walked into Johnson's office, dropped my pants and underwear and = bent over his desk. No point in dallying around, just get it over with. "Gary," he said in that deep, gravelly voice,"when I = paddle a boy, I expect him to be naked. Strip!"
I took off all my clothes and laid them on the desk, then stood = there - completely naked. Coach was standing in front of me shirtless, barefoot, wearing a pair of faded grey sweatpants. He had a = beautiful chest, the pectoral muscles covered with thick, dark fur. Little brown nipples. And, God, biceps like grapefruit! At = first, I tried to focus on the whistle hanging on a cord between his pecs, but I could feel my _c_o_c_k_ getting hard anyway. So instead, I = stared down at his feet and put my hands over my crotch.
"I won't have slackers on the team, Gary. This isn't fun and games. = When you joined the team, you made a commitment to me and your teammates. I expect you at practice on time, ready to go. You = weren't, Gary. In fact, you didn't show up at all."
"No, sir, I was-"
"I don't want to hear it, Gary. You're going to get paddled, no = matter what lame excuses you come up with. And I don't want to waste my time hearing them. How many swats do you think you deserve?"
"I don't know."
"Well, come on, what's fair? What's a fair punishment for missing = practice?"
"Uh......five?"
"Get serious, boy. Five might be fair for skipping a class, but you = didn't just skip a class. You failed in your commitment to me and to the team. Try again."
"Ten?"
"Ten's fair. So we'll make it twenty."
"Twenty?!"
"This isn't about fairness. It's about punishment, making _d_a_m_n_ sure = you don't skip another practice. Right?"
"Yes, sir."
"Right. Now bend over and grab your ankles. Yeah, like that. I want = you to count out each swat and say 'Thank you, Coach'. Okay?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good." He walked over to a footlocker and took out his paddle. It = was wooden, about two feet long, three or four inches wide and maybe an inch thick. There were several parallel lines of holes = drilled in it. Coach Johnson walked round behind me and gently patted my rump with the paddle. I was hoping that from behind = he couldn't see my hard on. Standing there naked while that handsome, masculine man gave me a dressing down had really = turned me on. He was so stern and masterful. In control. Of me. God, I'd do anything for that man.
Whoosh. Thwack!
"One. Thank you, Coach!" The paddle pounded into my cheeks, right = across the center. I swear I could feel each of those holes!
Whoosh. Thwack!
"Ow! Two. Thank you, Coach!"
The second swat landed -stinging- just above the first. The third = landed just below it, on the underside of my buns. The fourth in the same place. Whoosh. THWACK! The fifth landed in exactly the same = place again, only with about twice the force! It was like a stripe of fire across already stinging flesh.
"Ow! Oh! Thank you! Coach!"
There had only been five strokes, only a quarter of the total = punishment, and already my eyes were stinging with tears. I shuffled my feet, clenched my buttcheeks, but my ass was on fire!
Whoosh. THWACK!
The force of the sixth swat caused me to lose my balance. I started = to fall forward, but The Coach reached his strong hand under my belly to hold me upright and placed it directly on my throbbing = _d_i_c_k_.
"Is this turning you on, boy? You like being buck naked, your ass up = in the air getting paddled?"
He grasped my boner in his fist and squeezed.
"Uh.....I....ooh!"
"Yeah, you like it! You want me to paddle you, don't you, boy?" "No, = sir, I-"
"Well, when I'm paddling you, boy, I don't want you thinking of = anything but that paddle coming down on your bare butt. This," he squeezed my _c_o_c_k_ again, "is a distraction. Get rid of it!"
"H,how?"
"I don't care! Jerk off if you have to!"
I stood up and began pumping my _c_o_c_k_. I was burning with shame. = There I stood jerking off in front of the Coach, my butt still stinging from his paddle. I felt so humiliated! He grabbed my = balls and slowly squeezed. He was standing so close behind me I could feel his warm breath on my shoulder.
"Hurry up, boy! I don't have all afternoon and you've got fourteen = more coming. Fifteen. You didn't count the last one or thank me for it." He squeezed my balls harder, a sharp agonizing pain = that somehow felt good .
I heard the paddle clatter onto the cement floor behind me. He laid = his free hand on my burning butt; it felt wonderfully cool. Then I felt his finger pushing between my cheeks, pressing against my = butthole. He pressed harder and harder, pushing his thick, dry finger into me. It was only a finger, but it felt huge! And it hurt, = a sharp pain. It wouldn't slip in easily, being totally unlubricated, so pushed and jabbed it into my hole; forcing it in, = rasping past the dry sphincter. I moaned, loudly, both because the penetration was so painful and because it felt so good at the same = time.
The warm pressure of his hand on my balls, squeezing harder and = harder, combined with the feel of his knuckle grating past my sphincter, pushing further and further up inside me would have put me = over the edge. But just as I thought I was going to come, he simultaneously let go of my aching balls and yanked his finger = out of my ass. I turned around to see him loose the drawstring of his pants and let them fall to his ankles. The thick, = black fur of his chest narrowed to a thin line down his belly until it reached the thatch of hair that disappeared beneath the waistband of = his jockstrap.
The head of his _c_o_c_k_, dark purplish red, stuck out of the waistband, = slick with precum.
I knelt and flicked it with my tongue, still pumping my own _c_o_c_k_. = The Coach groaned and thrust his crotch against my face.
I wanted to suck his _c_o_c_k_, wanted him to _f_u_c_k_ my mouth and throat. = Ever since I joined the team, I had jerked off thinking of Coach Johnson _f_u_c_k_ing my face. God, I wanted it!
However, the Coach had different ideas. He turned away from me and = bent over, spreading his legs, hands gripping his muscular thighs. His ass was inches from my face. The globes of muscle = were covered in dark, downy hair, growing thicker in the cleft between them. He smelled musky and like clean sweat, manly and = enticing.
"Lick it, boy. Kiss your Coach's ass," he growled over his shoulder. = "Yes, sir! Thank you, Coach!"
I placed a chaste kiss on each furred cheek, the soft hair tickling = my lips, then buried my face between them. The strong aroma of masculine muskiness was driving me wild. I lapped up the crack, = feeling his asshole tense as my tongue passed over it.=20
He tasted of sweat, faintly salty. I flicked my tongue across his = sphincter, the wrinkled skin exquisitely soft and sensitive. It reacted to my tongue, tensing and clenching. I jabbed the tip into his = hole; it clamped down around my tongue and I heard him groan.
He jerked around to face me. The waistband of his jock had been = pushed down beneath his balls. He was madly jerking at his _c_o_c_k_ - long, tapered and heavily veined, the head now a deep, dark = purple. With his free hand, He pressed my face into his crotch and I lapped at his large, oval testicles. He growled deep in his throat = and came. Jism boiled out of his _c_o_c_k_, running over his hand and onto my cheeks, nose and lips. As the hot sticky tide flowed = over my face, I had a wracking, shuddering, agonizing orgasm. It felt as though the head of my prick exploded! Gobs of milky = white cum spattered onto the floor, Coach Johnson's feet, and the sweat pants wadded at his ankles. He pressed down on my head = until my face was just above his feet. "Lick it off!" he growled.
Slowly, I licked the top of his feet and down between his hairy = toes, licked up the bitter strands of my own jism.
"Okay, boy, assume the position."
Kicking off the sweat pants, he pulled his jockstrap up and arranged = his _c_o_c_k_ and balls comfortably within its pouch. He picked the paddle up from the floor; and I bent over for the remaining = swats.
Whoosh. THWACK!
"Six! Thank you, Coach!"
Whoosh. THWACK!
"Seven! Thank you, Coach!"
Each swat was blazing, searing pain across my butt. My _s_e_x_ual = arousal had somehow blunted the pain of the earlier swats. But now, post orgasm, it was stinging agony. By the third of the fifteen = swats, I was crying. Then sobbing.
Whoosh. THWACK!
"Ow! Oooh, God! Fifteen! Thank you! Coach!"
I stood up. "Please, Coach! I can't take anymore! Please!"=20
"Well, boy, either you bend over and take the remaining swats, or I = tie you across that desk. But if I have to do that, we'll start over at the beginning. So which do you want, boy?"
I bent over again, and somehow managed to stay bent over for the = last five swats. I don't know how I managed it - probably absolute terror that he would tie me across his desk and begin the = paddling all over again. It was the worst spanking I've ever had. My ass felt swollen to twice it's size. With a paddling, not only does = the skin sting and burn, but it aches deep into the muscles. I was bawling like a baby, sobbing so hard I could barely count out the = strokes or say 'Thank you, Coach'.
Finally, it was over. I stood up and rubbed my butt. My hands felt = like ice against the burning skin. I turned and looked at Coach Johnson through a blur of tears. He was grinning, even white teeth = beneath his thick, black moustache. I could see that his _c_o_c_k_ was hard again, straining against the cotton pouch. He pulled me to = him and hugged me. The feel of his warm body against mine and his hard on pressing against my thigh started arousing me again = in spite of the pain.=20
"You miss another practice, Gary, and you'll get twice as many = swats. And next time it'll be my _c_o_c_k_ up that poor little butt, not just my finger. Do you understand, boy?"
I nodded against his chest, my tears matting the dark fur. "Good, = now hit the showers."