The next morning I awoke to discover Larry already in the kitchen with breakfast underway and the coffee perking nicely! I'll admit it. It was nice.
Over breakfast I showed him the house rules. "That' it?" he exclaimed, thinking them easy, but when I added expectations for school work and grades, he tensed a bit. Still, we agreed the rules were fair and posted them on the fridge.
"We'll go by the lumber store this afternoon and buy some wood. You are going to cut and sand three paddles."
"Three? Ah, really?"
"You heard me. What did your Old Man use?"
"Ah, his hand but mostly these days, a strap." He looked down at the coffee cup in his hand. "I, ah, I really don't think you're going to need three paddles though."
"Maybe yes; maybe no; but you're going to make some just in case." That ended the discussion. "So, let's get going. You made breakfast; I'll clean up. So why don't you go cut the grass and then we'll go out for awhile and stop at the lumber shop on the way back."
"OK." Stripping off his T-shirt, he was out the kitchen door, headed for the garage and lawn mower, his shirt on the porch.
Later we went to the Mall and bought a few things he needed, mostly bathroom stuff and a calculator for his homework. We shopped, talked, then grabbed a bit to eat before hearing for the lumber shot.
He became real quiet in the lumber shop but I went ahead and purchased wood for three paddles. The one for the kitchen was to be small and thin. Something that wouldn't been too big and obvious, but still obvious enough hanging there and strong enough to set his ass on fire quickly with or without his pants on. The one for his bedroom was to be long and narrow, more like a fraternity paddle. It would be thin and smooth enough to whistle through the air and for use only on his bare skin. I explained I wanted it to be effective whether I had him bent over my knees or across the bed. Either way, he would be bare, I explained. Larry listened, obviously embarrassed, as I made the selections of the wood. I could tell he hoped no one could hear us. The final one to be kept in the garage was to be larger, heavier and reserved for more serious sessions, inside or outside, cloths on or cloths off. We stood around in the shop discussing the options and making the decisions together. Anyone overhearing us would have understood exactly what it was we were planning to make. Larry's face was blushing by the time we cashed on and got back into the car.
He started work cutting them out on the jig saw in the garage once we got home.
I watched him carefully now. The house rules were posted. It was only a matter of time. That evening I cooked, he washed. We discussed his school subjects and I agreed to tutor him at night to get him going. School could now become a priority. Finally we decided to watch a video. There he was stretched out lazily on the floor in front of the TV in his T-shirt and tight jeans and although the jeans displayed his buns nicely, Larry had done nothing to give me the chance to bare them. The paddles were in the kitchen, one finished.
Sunday, he worked a bit more in the garage and we did some fishing. That evening I checked his homework.
"Here it is," he said at about nine o'clock as he handed it to me. "Remember. This is the first time. I hope it's OK with you."
I sat down at the kitchen table and started to look it over carefully. He was standing to the side, shifting from one foot to another, noticeably nervous. Time to call him on it.
"You nervous or something?" I said.
"Wouldn't you be?" he replied. "This is worse than showing it to a teacher. The teacher just grades it, but if you don't like it. . . well, ah, in a few minutes I could get my ass paddled."
I smiled. "You're right. Come to think of it, I've got an old paddle down in the basement, think maybe tonight's a good time for your first paddling?"
"I hope not. I've been nervous about it all evening, 'cause I know you weren't kidding, but it's up to you."
"Right you are, but even just knowing you're going to get it when you mess up is good motivation for any guy your age. So just stand there a few minutes more while I finish reading all this and then I'll tell you if you're going to be spanked tonight."
He continued to stand there waiting. I read those paged over very carefully, but although there were a few small things here and there in his report, nothing really worth commenting much about. He'd done a fairly good job. _d_a_m_n_ it anyway. I sat thinking. Always room for improvement. I got nothing to lose, this is a perfect time to strip him down and make sure he understands my authority.
"Go get ready for bed while I finish thinking about this."
He left immediately, maybe a little relieved, knowing I hadn't yet decided. I heard the shower running and about twenty minutes later, he came back into the room. Now he was wearing only a towel.
"So, Larry, what do you think? You think your report is good enough or should I spank you and make you rewrite it?" I smiled, knowing I was going to enjoy this.
"It's up to you, Sir. I guess I could probably have done better on that report, but it's up to you."
"Then, sit down here and let's go through it together."
We did. In fact we spent the next hour talking about different ways to organize reports and say things and so forth and so on. For tonight let's just offer help and let the warmth from his uninhibited body sitting beside me in nothing but a towel be enough.
"Ah, I guess, I could have done better," he said when we finished going over it all. "You gonna' spank me?"
"What do you think?"
He looked real worried, his head was looking into his lap, he was concerned. "I guess you are. I could have done better."
I hugged him and ruffled his hair. "Not tonight, kid. I've explained things to you tonight. Maybe next time, if the paper doesn't improve. Now, get you ass in bed. School's tomorrow."
"Thanks!" He said and turned away.
I knew the time would come and soon. Larry would be around for a long time, after all.
I discussed the whole guardianship issue with my attorney that Monday afternoon and heard the pros and cons. Later my accountant pointed out certain other advantages and disadvantages. It finally came down to this: if his father followed through with it, it was going to be a personal decision up to me. And the major concern I had was that I was still undecided about tying myself down like that. The week became very busy and let me with little time to help him with his homework, let alone to do anything else.
I heard nothing further about all this until Thursday night when the old man appeared again at my door. Larry answered it and let him in. At my insistence Larry joined us at the kitchen table. I wanted him to hear what his Dad had to say.
The old man acted nervous, like he didn't want to be here. He looked horrible, his face haggard and worn. He was smoking heavily. He had an envelope in his hand and tossed it my way on the table. Inside were guardian papers. His signature had already been notarized.
He said nothing. I told Larry to read it and watched him turn pale.
"You're sure you want to do this?" I asked him pointedly. "You're giving up your own son, you know."
The old man looked at Larry, but spoke to me. "I got nothing to offer him and I won't take him along with the misses and me. If you take him, maybe he'll get a chance in life. I'd like him to have the chance I never had. It's the best for him. And, besides," he smiled, "I can't handle him anymore, but I know you can."
Larry blushed.
Then the Old Man reached in a paper bag at his feet and pulled out an old razor strap, obviously well used, and handed it to me.
"Larry knows what this is. You can use it now." He said.
"I'm sure I will. Right, Larry?" I replied laughing.
Larry said nothing, but his face told it all!
What real choice did I have now?
"This still OK with you, Larry?" I asked him.
"Please sign, Cal." He said with a certain determination, specifically looking away from the strap in my hand.
"OK. I'll do it. I'll have my attorney handle it in the morning."
After that things lightened up a bit and the old man actually became a bit human. As he left, Larry stood alone on the porch. The rest of his cloths and things had been shoved in shopping bags left on the porch steps. Although he pretended it didn't bother him, I knew there were tears in his eyes as he stood there watching that car drive off for the last time.
"Well, I guess I call you Pops now?" He tried to make light of a difficult situation.
"Don't you dare." I smiled. "Remember who's in charge now." I cracked the strap in my hands and smiled.
"I've never forgotten that, but you won't need that."
Then he became more serious for a moment.
"I really appreciate what you are doing for me, I want you to know that. And, and I'll make you proud of me. You'll never regret this."
I hugged him and we went inside. Then although he didn't like it, I hung the strap beside the kitchen door where he would see it every day. Life goes on!
Over the next few weeks things settled down into a routine of sorts. I worked, he went to school then worked, and we both did one thing or another in the evenings. On the weekends we hiked or worked around the house together. He tried to give me all the cash he was earning from his odd jobs after school, but I refused to take it. Instead we opened a bank account -- a college fund -- and cut back on his part time jobs. It was his Senior Year of High School and it seemed to me he ought to have as normal one as possible under the circumstances. Actually having him around was no problem at all and rather fun.
I had to go talk with his school Principal about the change in his address and the guardianship. With Larry sitting there, the Principal lectured him about "this new positive chance for your future" and went on and on. Finally, he said directly to Larry, who was slumping there and acting somewhat bored.
"All of your teachers have commented you have never attained your potential. We knew with your home situation, you had to work to earn money, and we didn't want to say anything that would have made your home life more difficult for you than we already knew it was. But, things are different now. I expect you to do much better now."
"Ah, I'll try," Larry said.
"Forget that," I said to them both, but looking directly at Larry. "I'll insure he does better, and if you or his teachers ever notice anything I should know, here is my office number. I expect you to call me, and I'll handle it!"
Larry looked down. He knew what I meant. He was quiet in the car going home. When we walked in the front door I put my hand on his shoulder and stopped him.
"What did you mean back there when you said 'I'll try'?"
"Sorry, I shouldn't have said it that way. I knew you'd think I made a mistake the minute I said it, but it won't happen again." He looked sorry.
"I'm sure it won't, but remember, it's always 'I will'! Got that, Larry?" I poked him in the arm.
"Yes, Sir!"
"I expect more from you, Larry, and I don't expect you to slump and not pay attention when a man like that is talking to you. Look him right square in the face. No reason to sulk just because we're at your school. You've been great around here, much better than I expected actually, but I didn't like you attitude at that school. So, tonight you're going to be spanked!"
"What! Ah, come on, Cal. It wasn't much really. You're kidding, aren't you?"
"Maybe you didn't hear me, Larry. I said, 'tonight you're going to be spanked'."
"No, Cal, Come on now. Don't kid me! Not for that!"
I swatted his ass immediately, grabbing it, hard enough to surprise him and push him forward a bit. "You arguing with me?" I looked him directly in the face, my hand gripping his ass hard as he struggled a bit. "Keep it up and I'll use the strap on you right now!"
"Sorry, Sir" He stood still, his face looking down, "I didn't mean anything by it."
"Go upstairs and finish your homework. I'll call you when I'm ready."
Larry walked away quickly now and began his homework.
I put some stuff away and did some paperwork myself until it was about 10 o'clock when I got the small leather paddle from the basement, the one Paul got so much. I knew how to use it effectively to bring maximum pain on Paul's bare ass and have him in tears immediately. Might as well introduce it to Larry's ass and break him in quickly rather than bothering with the wooden ones he had made. Looking at it in my right hand, my mind drifted back to the many times I had warmed Paul's ass with it here in this basement, watching him squirming and struggling to escape it's caresses as he was stripped down and over my lap here. Paul would enjoy knowing "his" paddle was going to tan Larry's ass as well. It would be something they could share in common. I smiled to myself, and took it upstairs with me.
When I entered his bedroom, he was sitting at his desk working on homework. He looked up at the paddle in my hand.
"It's time, Larry." I said, sitting on the foot of his bed.
Larry stood up and came over slowly to where I was sitting.
"Take off your shirt, shoes, and socks."
He pull his T-shirt out of his waist and pealed it up and over his body. This time I could see how good his stomach muscles were and how firm and well built the upper part of his body was. His pecks stood out, no hair anywhere, just a wisp from his belly button and running straight down under his jeans. He bent down and slipped off one shoe and sock, kicking them aside, then the other. Then he stood there in front of me in his bedroom.
I reached up and let my hand ride down his chest, testing it, then over his stomach. He said nothing. Then I unbuckled his thick leather belt and pulled it roughly from around his waist. When I had it in my hand, I doubled it over, and cracked it.
Minutes later, I popped the buttons on his Levi's', top down, allowing the denim to spring apart and showing his white briefs. I had waited to do this for a long time, and now as I began, I vowed silently I would do it frequently. I reached up then and tugged those tight jeans down, revealing his nice basket, strong legs with visible and toned muscles, calves, and all. I turned him around studying the way those briefs fit his ass, separated and all, like a second skin. All kinds of thoughts raced through my mind as I felt the cotton covering his buns. I kept telling myself to take my time. Enjoy this for all it was worth! He stood still, as if he was proud to stand before me like this. He had to know how much _s_e_x_ual energy his perfectly formed body radiated. Maybe his father had been right. He needed it! I had neglected by duty!
"Step out of them." I spoke sharply.
Immediately, he kicked off one leg, then the other leaving his jeans in a pile off to the side. The boy was proud, well built, and just what I wanted. Tight white cotton jockeys formed his second skin, but that was protection I would not permit for long.
"Please, I don't think I deserve this." He spoke clearly. "What I did wasn't that bad, Cal. Won't you please just reconsider? I mean like can't you give me a break just once?"
I reached up and grabbed his right hand, deliberately leading his body over my lap, his legs stretched out behind him. His ass, though still covered by his low slung white cotton briefs, was right where I wanted it, and it looked that it was not going to disappoint me at all! The white cotton briefs were tight and thin, which only make it more interesting. He filled them out fully.
He was fidgeting now, straining to turn his head to see what I was doing. With my left hand, I forced his head straight down on the bed, as my right hand was caressing his buns, feeling them and the place where they meet his thighs. Everything felt too good to believe. His ass was tense, ready, his thighs were firm, parted. I could feel his _c_o_c_k_ on my lap.
I took my time. There was no reason to hurry. Then I decided to peal them down. I couldn't wait any longer. So, I did, causing his to lift up slightly to permit them to be stripped down. Now he was completely naked over my lap. He clenched his ass tightly as he struggled to maintain his uncomfortable balance.
His buns up close looked better than I had imagined, soft, smooth, a nice tan line from the Speedos he wore with the swim team. I forced his buns apart, and inspected him more carefully, much to his obvious annoyance. He wiggled when I fingered him a bit, straightening out his _c_o_c_k_ and balls on my lap, taking him any way I wanted. Finally, when I tired, it was time! I wanted to spank him first with my bare hand, watch those buns turn red.
The frustration of weeks of waiting, planning, were in that first crack of my bare hand on his left cheek. I know I hurt him as he yelped and bounced over my lap. His legs stiffened. Both cheeks tightened, but my hand print was clearly visible where I had struck him. It was just beginning.
Thereafter, my right hand landed on one cheek on the other, or sometimes on both, and I began the task of turning his baby white bottom red. One crack after another as his cheeks bounced there, clinching it, trying to not react too much, but soon, the pace of the slaps and the force of my hand began to show results and the rosy red color began. I concentrated on insuring it was all going to be spanked and turn red tonight and I aimed to land a few on the undersides of his cheeks, where ass met thigh. I forced his legs apart, and landed one.
"No" he yelped and constantly repeated it.
But I just did it again and again until he gave up complaining. No was not an option.
"Raise it up higher, boy!" I commanded. "Spread 'em, you hear me, boy!"
As he tried his best to obey quickly, I landed several hard slaps right where they would do him the most good.
He began to whine now. His bare bottom was rosy all over now. Time for the leather paddle.
"Keep that ass up and open, boy!"
He tried his best, but as soon as that paddle landed on his ass, he was racked with pain and crying too freely to be thinking much. His legs were kicking wildly. Now and then, I'd take a break from spanking his ass, and feel it for warmth. It was hot, red, just like I like to see it. I'd finger him as I wished and now I could feel he was hard over my lap. Just when he seemed convinced I was finished, I'd let flow a series of slaps to get him jumping and crying all over again.
The leather paddle was especially small and good for inflicting quick and maximum pain to the fleshy parts of his ass and the under parts as well. A well placed slap, landing under his left cheek and reaching around his inner thigh, sent him jumping and screaming for mercy. I paid no attention and simply continued. Larry keep crying. Crack after crack sounded throughout the house as I landed that small paddle accurately on his ass. It was harder to keep him still now, my own body bathed in sweat as I struggled with him. Still I was determined to paddle his ass harder than he had ever felt it before. Finally I stopped. He lay limp now over my lap, sobbing uncontrollably, begging, promising, pleading, anything, but stop!
As he sobbed it all out, I inspected my handiwork and knew I had spanked him well. His tight little bare ass was very, very red, bruised, radiating heat and hurting everywhere. Probing open the cheeks with my hand, it was obvious he had been spanked there as well, everywhere was very red. Just the way I like it!
I forced him to stand in the corner, not permitting him to touch it. His long body standing there with just his ass perfectly red was a pleasure to watch, as his sniffling continued. Then I got some baby oil, pulled him back over my lap (he knew better than to object but he clenched his buns as if he thought I was going to spank them more), and applied oil liberally and freely, including inside his tight little cherry with my middle finger. He moved seductively, and moaned, as I finished exploring, but he was hard as a rock over my lap despite the pain from his spanking.
"OK, Larry," I stood him up naked in front of me and spoke. "You had a good spanking but it's over. Felt good, didn't it?"
"It hurt! I mean it really hurt!" tears were still in his eyes, and he was looking down. I was waiting for the objections.
"But , come on, admit it: you've been needing that for a while now, haven't you? Asking for it, haven't you?" I smiled. "And don't you feel better now that you've cried it all out and your tension's all gone?"
"No!. . . OK, OK don't look at me like that. . . Well, maybe, but it hurt like hell." He looked at me his eyes red and watery, sniffling, "But, I guess I'd admit I've been wondering why you hadn't yelled at me at all. Maybe I tested you too much? I mean like Dad used to whip me all the time and I always knew what was coming and even when whether I wanted it or not, but. . . but with you, well I haven't known exactly what to expect. I was worried that maybe you didn't want me around. Yeah, I guess it was like a big release maybe, but now I know for sure you care about me and how I act. Just. . . well I sure hope I don't need it that bad too often, especially with that paddle. God, that really hurts. It's worse than Dad's strap. But, I mean like, it you're going to give it to me. . . Please! I'd rather get it more frequently rather than your saving it all up and giving it to me like that all at once! Jeez! I can't believe I up and said that, but it's true!" He threw his arms around me and started hugging me tightly.
He was smiling now. I smiled back and tussled his hair.
"Hum, I'll consider that. So now, what you're going to do is bring your books downstairs and finish your homework. You can study on the floor in the living room since sitting's going to be a bit difficult for a while."
He bent down, displaying his red ass in all its glory, and reached for his cloths clumped on the floor, about to put them on.
"Forget the pants tonight. You don't need them. After I've spanked you a T-shirt's OK but nothing more."
Larry smiled now. "OK. Actually I like to hang around the house without cloths on, it makes me feel more free. I used to do it at home all the time when no one was there, but I was afraid you wouldn't let me do it here."
"Fine. This is your house too now. Just make sure you understand that after I've taking the time to spank you, you are forbidden to put any briefs or jeans on until I tell you otherwise. That nice read bottom you're sporting to be real visible incase I have to give you some more later. Now, put them cloths away, and come on downstairs and get back to your homework before I have to use the paddle on your again.."
"You won't have to, Cal. I promise." And boy did he move rapidly now!
A few minutes later Larry walked in the living room, carrying his books, as naked as the day he was born. His body was on beautiful display now, his _c_o_c_k_ swinging in the air. He plopped his books down on the floor and lay down there on his stomach. I watched his every move. There he was, finally, strung out on the floor in front of me, his cute little ass red as fire and on display for the rest of the evening. The baby oil I had rubbed on it earlier made it especially attractive. As I watched him there, I felt good about having decided to spank him. I'd repeat it soon. He even seemed to expect it more often.
Larry himself seemed to have a bit of an exhibitionist streak in him. He'd stand and get some coke, come and stand there, all without a concern in the world about his _c_o_c_k_ flopping in the air right there and his nice body on display. Hell he had an almost perfect body and seemed to be proud of it. No reason to hide it anymore. I liked having him around the house like that. Time to change a few things around here.
Later I checked his homework and we turned in. Before we did, though, I made him lie on his bed on his stomach and I ran my hand over his ass. It remained hot to the touch. I applied some additional cream liberally, including goosing him a little as he wiggled.
"Ah," he moaned. "Feels good" he said as he moved it around sensually, my hands still on it. "I kind'a like it when you do that with cream and, you know, like when it's all hot and all."
"Glad you do, boy." I said, still playing with it, "because tonight taught me something."
"Ah, what's that," he turned so he could look at me while I still had my hands over his ass.
"I've neglected my responsibilities" I began. "But you can count on my not making that mistake any more. . . You can also count on spending a lot more time over my lap as long as I'm responsible for your upbringing, and more frequently. I'd forgotten how much a guy your age needs to be kept on his toes. Your father tried to remind me, but I missed it. Our rules are too easy. They aren't challenging you enough. I'll correct that."
"Up to you." he said dropping his head down on the bed. "But I hope it'll not always be so hard with that paddle. Maybe there are other ways you could discipline me when you have to? I mean like the other guys in school get grounded and stuff like that?"
I ran my hand over that hot ass again feeling the heat radiating from it and slapped it lightly, watching it bounce before he clenched it. I wasn't sure I knew what he meant by that comment, but I was not going to pursue it. Discipline, hot, heavy, and painful. That was all it was going to be it for Larry.
From then on, Larry was careful, for sure, but he also lounged around more inside in just a pair of shorts or his briefs. One afternoon when I returned from work, he was asleep on the couch in the living room, naked as could be. He looked great!
I spanked him more now, but still only for a reason. The rules tightened, we focused on college, he never objected.
I was glad to have him around. His school grades shot up, but they should have with the amount of time I was putting into helping him and my swiftness in correcting him whenever a paper or test slipped at all. Any mistake at all, even a simple English one, and his jeans got pulled down and his ass, whipped on the spot. But within the semester, his grades went from "C's and D's" to "A's and B's." I was proud of him.
Larry had never had a chance at school sports as he had to work. It was different now. I pushed him to join the swim team. With his strong arms and chest, his small waist and strong thighs on his tall lean body, the coach thought he'd be a natural, so I pushed harder, got extra coaching from a friend who had been a competitive swimmers, and soon he was doing well on the team.
Everyone commented on how well he was doing. The school was amazed at his progress, but I wasn't. He radiated positiveness and seemed on top of the world now. It was gratifying to watch.
But sometimes I wondered. Like once, it kind of almost seemed like he might have had left his jeans in the bathroom knowingly it broke a house rule that would bring him a good long session, bare assed over my knees. Testing maybe? And it did. He got my hand hard across his bare fanny that night when I finished my dinner and pushed my chair back from the table, pushed his jeans clumped down around his ankles, and then let him cry himself out hanging over like that and promising never to forget again. He knew I'd give it to him when he earned it. Was he really forgetful, or had he already learned something about the benefits from discipline in his life? After all, he'd been brought up that way.
Those days I'd call Paul frequently and never turned down an invitation to a "party." And when Larry was gone with the swim team or out with a date, I learned how to plan my private life. Most friends never believed for a moment I wasn't having him though. Don especially.
"Come on," he said one night over _c_o_c_k_tails, "tell me. Remember, I saw you spank him in the woods once. If he lived with me," Don had said, "I'd have him across my lap. No one his age can be self controlled enough to have not done something earning a trip to the woodshed, at least now and them. Let him stay with me sometime and I'll handle him if you're too much into this guardian thing to see what he really needs. Hell, he's only sixteen! You're doing 'em a favor when you whip 'em at that age anyway. Send him over tonight. OK?"
I never did, but I did think about whether I wanted to expand Larry's horizons. No, keep it "within the family." But, when there was a reason, not a made up one, he got it hard.
Even Paul had brought it up. All three of us did things sometimes. Larry liked watching Paul's gymnastic meets.
"Ah," Paul said one evening after I'd used the leather paddle on him for spilling some coffee in the kitchen. "It'd be really hot if like sometime you'd correct me when Larry was here. I mean like I'd really like it, ah, if you paddled me in front of him."
He looked at me, his tear-filled eyes very red, his jeans still down around his feet as he rubbed his just spanked buns.
"Or maybe like some night you could spank us both. That would be incredible! Or even just let me watch you punish him some evening. I'd really like that."
I didn't bother to respond. Paul was a college junior on the college gymnastic team with a great body to boot. He was hoping to get a job in marketing locally so he and I could develop something a bit more permanent, but I wasn't making any promises. I knew Paul turned on when I'd corrected him or even just spoke sharply to him with other people around. I'd never forgotten the shocked look on his face when I had taken him into an adjourning room in the midst of a dinner party some friends threw and spanked him soundly while the others sat waiting at the table for us to return. He was never as turned on as he was as I forced him to return and finish dinner that night. Everyone knew he'd just been spanked. Paul had often told me it was one of his hottest memories. I thought about that. I knew I could get into it too, but Larry was just a kid staying here.
And Larry was doing well in school. He was just coming into a whole new world and his body was just flowering under the strains of swimming training. I didn't plan to mix him up.
then one night the phone rang. . .