Date: Thu, 30 Nov 2023 10:37:43 +0000 From: Andy Ashcroft Subject: Andy And Mr. Lynn All the usual disclaimers apply. The following story is entirely fictional and contains explicit descriptions of sexual activity between a teenage boy and adult males. Read no further if you are under the age of 18, or offended by such material. Please donate to nifty.org (https://donate.nifty.org). Gay - Adult-youth - Authoritarian: M+/t, anal, corporal punishment - - - - - Andy And Mr. Lynn I was 13 years old when I got the chance to take over from Josh, the local paperboy. He gave me the low-down on how to maximize my income when collecting the paper money on Saturdays. He also told me to avoid Miss Gray, the cat woman at 12 Hayward Drive, and Mr. Lynn, the grouch at 15 Eden Place. All went well during my first two weeks. Most of the customers liked me, and some even tipped me. I knew the over friendly men liked my smart attire: a pair of white tennis shorts, matching t-shirt and socks, and navy plimsolls. On the third Saturday, I rode my bicycle up to Mr. Lynn's house and rang the doorbell. "Ah! It's you," he growled, as he swung open the front door. "I've been watching you all week, swinging that bike around on my drive and threatening to knock my plant pots over." I was completely taken aback by Mr. Lynn's aggressive outburst; so, with a trembling voice, I nervously responded. "S-s-sorry, sir. I'll leave my bike outside from now on, and walk up the drive." "Good!" he growled. "Now, back up and try again." I carefully reversed a few inches, and then tried to turn my bike around. Of course, the sound of a broken plant pot filled the air. My heart stopped as I looked behind me. "Look at what you've done now!" he barked. "What an ignoramus!" I was devastated, and didn't know what to do. However, Mr. Lynn had a solution. "Right!" he continued. "I'm calling the newsagent and cancelling my papers. And I want this expensive plant pot replaced by your boss." "Please, sir," I whimpered. "Don't tell Mr. Drake. I don't want to lose my job ... I'll pay for the pot." "That pot was a classic urn," he snapped. "It'll take more money than you earn in a year to pay for it." "Instalments," I suggested. "I'll pay for the urn in instalments." "I like your spunk, boy," he said, smiling. "No, you've been very naughty, so let's sort this out the old fashioned way." "The old fashioned way, sir?" I inquired. "What's the old fashioned way?" "A good spanking, boy," he replied, assertively. "No instalments, just a few whacks and it's all forgotten. So, get inside." I climbed off my bike, propped it against the wall and followed Mr. Lynn inside. "Right, boy," he said. "Put your bag down ... Then follow me down to the cellar." He opened a door and led me down a narrow flight of stairs. A light came on as we entered the cellar. The room was warm and musty, and there were no windows. It was a large, brick-lined room that had been painted white. In the centre, stood a large, metal bed frame. It looked like something from the Victorian age. The double mattress was covered with a red rubber sheet, like those seen in hospitals. "Right, stand still," he ordered. "Let's get you ready." He retrieved four leather straps from a wooden cupboard, and then attached them to my ankles and wrists. "Right, climb on the bed and spread yourself out, face down," he ordered. "We have to do this properly." All four straps were secured, with rope, to the corner posts. He then ran his hand over my tennis shorts." "Underwear, boy?" he asked. "What are you wearing under those shorts?" "Y-fronts, sir," I nervously replied. "White Y-fronts." "White and tight," he said. "Good, let's begin with a school ruler." The 12-inch ruler struck my arse six times. The pain was noticeable, but not severe. Mr. Watson, my headmaster, used a cane to punish his boys, so the ruler only registered three on the 'bend over' scale. "Now, let's rub that arse better," he said. The rubbing was circular in motion, and very gentle. The man 'inadvertently' rubbed down, between my legs, and touched my growing stiffy. "So, what have we here?" he asked. "Is this the result of the ruler, or my hand?" "The ruler, I think, sir," I replied. "Let's test that theory, shall we?" he said, squeezing my ball-sac. I oohed and aahed as Mr. Lynn took full advantage of my outstretched legs. We both concluded that the hand was mightier than the ruler. "Good boy!" he said. "It's a pity we left those shorts and Y-fronts on. Still, we can remedy that mistake later." The ruler was replaced by another wooden whacker, which only pushed the 'bend over' scale to five. The rubbing in between did get me stiffer and stiffer. "Please, sir," I whimpered. "Can you take my shorts and Y-fronts off? Sorry to be such a nuisance, but they're strangling my willie." "Bloody nuisance," he snapped. "Still, I suppose they should come off. Let me release your ankle-straps and see if I can get them off." With the straps unbuckled, Mr. Lynn took off my plimsolls and sock, and then my shorts and Y-fronts. My legs were then spread apart again and secured to the corner posts. "What a palaver," he said. "Next time, you strip off completely before you come down here. Got that?" "Yes, sir," I replied. "I'm off school all next week, so I can strip off whenever you want me to." "I'll think about it," he growled. "Now, let's see how things turn out today. Your arse looks nice and red, and your cock looks nice and stiff. So, let's focus on them for the time being." My arse felt very vulnerable, and so did my cock and ball-sac. The warm air in the room caressed my nether regions as Mr. Lynn fumbled with his trousers. Suddenly, something touched my anus, and it felt like a finger. My arse reacted immediately. It jerked and contracted, and somehow allowed the finger to enter my arsehole. "Nice and tight," Mr. Lynn said, as he rhythmically toyed with my hole. "What is the man doing down there?" I thought. "Is he taking my temperature?" "Now, you just wait here, boy," he said. "It's getting a bit hot down here, so I'm going to change into something more comfortable." ~ ~ ~ When he returned, he was stark-bollock-naked. The old man looked muscular and ultra-fit, and his uncut cock was pencil thin. However, it was quite long, and looked like a larger version of my own - no pubic hair and a tight ball-sac. "Okay, boy," he said. "Let's continue with this leather paddle." The paddle hurt, but clearly the man was holding back. He hit me three times, just like clockwork, then complicated things by adding a random delay. I had no idea when the next blow would strike. This threw me completely, and caused my arse to rise up for some unknown reason. These vigorous blows, combined with the smell of the rubber sheet, triggered another erection. I rubbed my cock-head against the sheet as my arse rose and fell beneath the paddle. "What's that, boy?" he asked. "Not another erection?" "Yes, sir," I whimpered. "It's got a mind of its own. It's the rubber sheet. I'm sure of it." "Well, that's outrageous ... Blaming the sheet for your randy urges. You're just a horny scallywag, with a cock that needs tying up." He dragged my t-shirt up, so it covered my head. He then tied a cord around the base of my cock. I was still able to hump the rubber sheet, but the man didn't seem to care. "Okay, boy. Let's try this." The paddle moved from side to side between my upper thighs, and even hit my cock a couple of times. It then spanked my arse, before striking my bare back. Mr. Lynn huffed and puffed as I moaned and groaned. Meanwhile, the paddle continued to redden my bare arse. Suddenly, a surge of excitement overwhelmed me as Mr. Lynn pulled on the cord around my cock. I let out a muffled "crikey!" as my cock pulsed twice, then demanded a climax. "Right," he said. "Let's get this arse up. It should have been done earlier." A rubber pillow was slipped under my abdomen. This allowed the man to gain easier access to my cock and ball-sac. My cock still demanded a climax, but Mr. Lynn wasn't interested. So, with the loss of the humping sheet, my cock pulsed again and went rogue - the climax that followed wiped me out completely. Trembling fingers caressed my arse-cheeks as I bounced up and down on the pillow. My cock and arse demanded more attention, and the man was there to provide it - he had opened the door to sex, and that door was going to stay open, no matter how kinky the sex. The trembling fingers began to work on my "sweet hole" as my cock regained its strength for another climax. Shivers ran up and down my body as Mr. Lynn toyed with my hole again. I sighed as I strained against my restraints. "What's your name, boy?" he asked. "And how old are you?" "Andy, sir. Andy Ashcroft," I replied. "And I'm 13 years old." "Wow!" he said. "I'm so glad I broke that plant pot when your back was turned. I took one look at your arse and knew it had to be mine. I'm so sorry I blamed you for the broken pot, Andy." "That's alright, sir," I said begrudgingly. I was a little miffed at being set up like that, but how else was the man going to get me naked. So, on balance, Mr. Lynn had done the right thing. "Right, Andy," he said. "Let's call it a day. I'll release you and you can go on your merry way." "That might be a mistake, sir," I said. "That matching plant pot is bound to be broken if I'm not punished properly. I'm so clumsy at times." "Yes, you could be right," he said. "Let's say another round of the paddle; and then a surprise; and then a reward." Another surge of excitement overwhelmed me as the paddle came down on my arse again. I squirmed as it hit my arse-cheeks and sent shivers running up and down my spine. Mr. Lynn then squeezed my cock and rubbed my arse-cheeks. "Five more to go, boy," he said. "And no break in between. So, close your eyes and think of England." The paddle came down again and again, and I groaned under the onslaught. My cock bounced up and down in mid-air, desperate for a helping hand. It strained for relief, before going rogue again. The next climax hit me for six. "That was tip-top!" he barked. "Now, you just wait here, boy. I'm going upstairs to make a phone call. I just want to hurry up a friend of mine. You've got to meet him today." "Lummy!" I thought. "This sex lark is pretty good!" ~ ~ ~ Jake was a man in his late 30s. He was tall and slim, and wore a black biker's outfit. "So, this is young Andy," he said to Mr. Lynn. "What happened to Josh, the last paperboy?" "He became too old," Mr. Lynn replied, "and didn't want to play anymore. He was only bending over for the money, so he didn't really have his arse in it. Now, this youngster seems to be very keen on the paddle." "He looks mighty sexy, lying there like that," Jake said. "He's pink and red in all the right places." "True, true," Mr. Lynn said. "Now, get your kit off, Jake. We have work to do." A few minutes later, I felt bony fingers running over my shoulders and back. "He's bum looks mighty ripe and biteable," Jake said. The man's fingers ran up and down my flanks, tickling me as they went. I giggled as more fingers joined in. Mr. Lynn was playing with my ball-sac and cock, whilst I tugged at my restraints. I was beside myself with laughter as Jake increased the torment. The two men egged me on as they played with my naughty bits. "Tickle the soles of his feet, George," Jake said. "Let's hear him beg for mercy." And beg I did; just before a ball-gag was forced into my mouth. "Right, now he's gagged," George said, "let's introduce him to Black Bob. It should be over there, in the cupboard." The Vaseline covered butt plug entered my arsehole in two pushes - each of my tormentors took a turn at plugging up my hole. I lay there sweating as the men left me to stew. "Nice and tight," George said, as he toyed with my anus. The two men laughed as Jake removed Black Bob some 10 minutes later. "Lummy!" I thought. "They're going to fuck my arse all afternoon. The greedy buggers!"