Mark Campbell and David Howe were having lunch together on a sultry day in August. They had dated back in the eighties, and ever since then they had been meeting for lunch or dinner at least once a month.. Mark was an architect and David was a real estate broker.
David told Mark that he was trying to find an inexpensive apartment for a young phys. ed. teacher who had just taken a job at the local high school. "The kid took out a lot of loans to put himself through school," he said, "and now that he has to start repaying them, he doesnt have too much left. He comes from the Midwest, and he thought he could get an apartment for $500 a month. Ill be lucky to find him one for $1000."
"He must be cute," Mark said. "Otherwise you wouldnt be so concerned."
"He is," David admitted. "Tall and slender— muscular— brown hair— a broad smile— the boy next door. And he can hold his own in a conversation, too. Hes no dumb jock."
"Well if hes that good, maybe I should take him in," Mark said. "I have that empty maids room over the garage."
"I know. Thats why I told you about him. I thought Id be doing you both a favor."
"I was joking. Once a kid like that found out he was living with a faggot, hed freak out."
"I dont think so. He hasnt pulled any macho _s_h_i_t_ with me, and Ive let him know what I am."
"Well, if you think hed really be interested, send him over," Mark said.
As soon as he had returned to his office, David called the teacher, whose name was Mike Pierson.
Mike had started to worry. Three weeks before the start of school he was still living in a motel. He couldnt afford to stay there much longer; and there wasnt even a Y around where he could stay. He wasted no time before calling Mark. They made an appointment to meet later that afternoon.
"Its not an apartment," Mark told him. "Its just a room. But it has its own bathroom, and you can use the kitchen. In fact, you can have the run of the house."
Mike hesitantly asked how much the rent was. When Mark told him it would be $500 a month, he was incredulous. "Are you sure?" he asked.
"I can charge you more if you wish," Mark said.
"Well, its probably worth more," Mike said; but Id really be grateful to get it for $500."
"You have it," Mark told him. "And on nights when I cook dinner for myself, you can eat with me. I know they start teachers in this district at $30,000; and if you have loans to pay off, its hard to get along on that."
"Thank you very much, Mr. Campbell."
"Mr. Campbell? Do I look that ancient?"
Mike moved in the next day. Mark enjoyed having him around. He liked to look at him, of course. But that wasnt all. He was a good companion—surprisingly mature.
Mark had been used to eating at home only two or three nights a week; but he started cooking dinner at home almost every night because he looked forward to having dinner with Mike.
His one complaint was that Mike was messy—perhaps incorrigibly so. The cleaning woman told him that Mikes room was a sty. Whats more, he left dirty dishes lying in every room of the house. Mark let him know quite clearly that he was annoyed.
One evening, when they were having dinner, Mike started complaining about some of his pupils. "Kids are kids," he said. "They all get boisterous. But when you call them down for it, most of them shut up. I have a few, though, who give me a smartass answer no matter what I say to them. And Ive found out that theres no point in sending them to the office, because they do the same thing to the principal. Theyre scared of nothing. I didnt go to high school that long ago, but I wouldnt have dared to talk to any teacher that way. For one thing, in Oklahoma they still used the paddle. And besides, if my dad had found out, my ass would have been black and blue for a month."
"So you believe in corporal punishment?" Mark asked.
"I guess I do. I know it worked on me."
"Do you think it would stop you from leaving a weeks worth of dirty underwear on the floor of your room and leaving dirty dishes all over the house?"
"Guess I better watch it," Mike said, rising from the table and rubbing his butt.
Whenever Mark spoke to him about his housekeeping, hed improve for a day or two. Then he would lapse into his old habits.
Mark started to get after him more frequently and at the same time to tease him with the threat of a licking. He found it interesting that Mike always played along.
One night when Mark had arrived at home later than Mike, he parked his car behind Mikes car in the driveway. Mike went out after dinner and, instead of asking Mark to move his car, he simply drove around it—on the lawn. Mark told him what he thought about that when he got back.
About a month later Mike did the same thing. Mark lost his cool "God _d_a_m_n_ it, I told you not to drive your car on the _f_u_c_k_ing grass," he said. "That lawn cost me a tidy sum. I swear—if you do it again, I really am going to beat your ass."
Although Mikes housekeeping habits never improved for any length of time, he managed to avoid driving on the lawn for several months. Then, on a Saturday, when his team had an out of town game scheduled, he overslept. Just as he was ready to dash out of the house, he discovered that Mark was in the bathroom. Instead of waiting for him to come out and move the car, he did it again.
Mark, needless to say, was furious. But by the time Mike returned that evening, he had calmed down. Mike looked so dejected that Mark asked him if his team had lost.
"No," Mike said. "They won."
"Well, whats bothering you?" Mark asked.
Mikes answer stunned him. "I know what Im going to get," Mike said, "and Im not looking forward to it."
Mark decided to see how far Mike would let this go.
"You know I like you too much to kick you out. So I guess I better do what I warned you that Id do if you drove on the grass again."
"I know. Im not arguing. Would you mind if we just got it over with," just like a boy about to get a whipping from his dad.
"OK. Go up to your room," Mike ordered. "Ill be there in a minute."
Mark still had the tawse his Scottish father had used on his rear end forty years earlier. He knew exactly where it was, too. He pulled it out of his bottom drawer and took it up to Mikes room."
"All right," he said. "Get ready."
"How do you want me?" Mike answered.
"Take your pants down and lie across the foot of the bed."
"_d_a_m_n_! You dont fool around, do you?" he said, as he followed Marks instructions. "But I have to admit I deserve it."
Marks heart began to pound, and his crotch began to bulge as he watched Mike drop his pants, peel down his undershorts, and obediently present his butt for punishment. His ass was well-defined and milk white. It stood out in contrast to his well-tanned back and thighs.
Mike raised the tawse and brought it down hard on the vulnerable white flesh. It left two crimson stripes. Mike endured the pain in silence, gritting his teeth.
Mark brought it down again. Mike let out a howl.
As the tawse came down a third time, he clenched his fists and grit his teeth and managed to endure it in silence; but tears welled up in his eyes.
When Mark struck him the fourth time, he started crying out loud. He didnt stop crying until the whipping was over, but he held still the whole time.
Mark gave him twenty. Before he finished, Mikes whole butt was crimson and covered with welts.
Mike looked up at Mark and, once again like a boy who had been punished by his father, he said "Im sorry."
"Arent you going to get up?" Mark asked him.
"I was hoping youd join me down here," he said, as he rolled over and exposed a mammoth erection.
Mark did not wait for a second invitation.
As they lay on the bed, embracing, Mike said, "Either I forgot how much it hurts to get whipped, or that strap of yours is a lot meaner than my dads belt."
"I guess I got a bit carried away."
"No. It was exactly what Ive needed for a long time."
Not much time passed before they had both come. Then they fell asleep, with Mikes head resting on Marks shoulder.
The tawse now hangs on a hook in the stairwell leading from the kitchen up to Mikes room. And Mark doesnt hesitate to use it when he needs to remind Mike not to leave half-empty coffee cups in the living room.