Date: Tue, 12 Oct 2010 13:16:35 +0200 From: Michael West Subject: Learning Curve part 3 All of the usual disclaimers apply to this story. This is a work of fiction, it portrays consensual sexual acts between a man, a teenage boy and a preteen boy. If this is not to your taste or illegal for you to read, please stop here. Feel free to send me an email with your comments! michaeljwest@gmx.com ========================== LEARNING CURVE: Chapter 3 The bell rang out signalling the end of the school day, and boys began to surge towards the doors. Sighing deeply, I trudged off towards the science block. Normally, I'd be heading towards rugby practice, but this afternoon I was in detention. It was so fucking unfair, I thought, scuffing my shoes at imaginary stones. A beautiful dry, crisp autumn afternoon like this and I wasn't going to spend the next couple of hours enjoying it outside. No sir, I was going to spend two fucking hours in detention with my science teacher. I sighed again. My science teacher, who only yesterday had given me the best gob job ever, I remembered. My science teacher, who only yesterday had fucked a twelve year old's face in front of me. My dick twitched a little in my underpants. I smiled slightly and quickened my step. Mr Dixon was already in the classroom, sat at the big wooden desk at the front, waiting for me. Mickey was also there, sat in the front row, grinning his trademark silly grin. "Hi Gav," he said cheerily. Mr Dixon glared at him severely, and then turned his ferocious gaze on me. "Lock the door, Jones, and sit down," he said. "You might well think that you have been placed in detention in order that you might gratify your perverted sexual desires for two hours," he said as I sat next to Mickey. "I want you to get that silly idea out of your heads right now. What I found you two doing yesterday was entirely unacceptable, and you must be punished for it. There is a time and a place, gentlemen, and that is not on school grounds at lunchtime." He bent and took something from the drawer of the desk, and stood up. I saw Mickey licking his lips slightly, staring intently at the slightly overweight teacher's crotch. I was more concerned by the cane he held in his hands. "Given the nature of the offence, however, I have elected not to inform the headmaster and to instead take your punishment into my own hands." He paused and swished the cane through the air. I gulped. "Jones, as the elder and the, ahem, instigator, you will take your punishment first. You know what to do." Swallowing again, I stood and shrugged off my school blazer and moved to the front of the class. I bent and braced myself against the desk, squeezing my eyes tight shut and waiting for the first cut to land. I wished that I'd thought to put two pairs of underpants on that morning. Crack! I grunted slightly and jerked involuntarily. The first cut. Fuck, that stung. "As you were, boy," Mr Dixon warned me. Crack! Another grunt, but this time I managed to hold myself in position. I glanced over at Mickey. His eyes were on stalks, goggling at me with his mouth slightly open. I noticed that one of his hands was out of sight below the desk, rubbing at his crotch. First-formers never got caned: they just got the slipper. Crack! The third cut took me by surprise, and the breath hissed from between my teeth. "Very well Jones," he said. "Strip." "Sir?" I asked, puzzled. This was a state grammar school- you never got caned on your bare arse. It was against the law or something. Then again, it was probably against the law to feed your prick down your twelve year old pupil's throat, and that hadn't stopped him. "You heard me, boy!" he barked. I quickly tugged off my tie and slipped my feet out of my shoes, standing on the heel of one to get it off. I unbuttoned my shirt and shrugged out of it, dropping it on the desk. Reluctantly, I undid my grey trousers and stepped out of them. I dropped them on the desk as well and tuned to face Mr Dixon. My face burned red as I stood before him just wearing my vest and y-fronts. I was fighting the urge to rub my sore buttocks, even as I felt my prick beginning to stiffen in my underpants. He scowled at me. "Do you think your mother works here, Jones?" "No sir!" "Then fold up your uniform properly." I carefully folded my trousers and hung my shirt from the back of the chair. Playing for time, I even took off my socks and pushed them neatly into my shoes. The parquet floor was cold and a bit gritty under my bare feet. Unable to delay any longer, I resumed the position braced over the desk. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw that Mr Dixon was smirking at me, his eyes on my cotton-covered buttocks. The front of his trousers was beginning to tent out. He reached out and pulled the back of my y-fronts down to just below my buttocks. "Well, Jones, you can at least be thankful that all that hair on your backside will cushion the blows," he said. He took a step back. Holding my breath again, I tensed and waited for the next cut. The cane sang through the air. Crack! I yelped a little and jumped. I couldn't help it- I'd never been caned on my bare arse before, and two layers of cloth make a hell of a difference. "Stay still, boy! You only have eight to go, now stop being such a little girl about it." Crack! The next cut landed and my buttocks were already on fire. He tapped my buttocks lightly with the cane, getting a feel for his aim, and swung again. Crack! I grunted. Crack! Crack! I'll give him his due: Mr Dixon knew what he was doing. The cane never landed in the same place twice. I could feel the stripes beginning to rise up, neatly lined up one next to the other from the crease of my thighs to the top of my crack. I looked over at Mickey again, his eyes were glued to my buttocks and he had his hand down the front of his trousers, eagerly fisting his little prick. My own prick was soft in my underppants, trying to shrink back into my body. Crack! The last cut landed. "Right Jones. Pull your pants back up," Mr Dixon's breath came in ragged, heavy bursts. I eased the cotton back over my burning buttocks and turned to him. He was flushed, with sweat dampening his greying moustache. At the front of his trousers was a pronounced bulge. Absently, he dropped his hand to his crotch and squeezed himself while surveying me. "Well, boy? Have you learnt your lesson?" he asked. "Yes sir," I replied, casting my eyes down and reflecting that he hadn't told me what the lesson to be learned actually was. "Good man. Now, go and stand by the board. Barrington!" Mickey positively jumped out of his seat and rushed over, his little prick tenting out the front of his trousers. "Yes sir!" the little redhead piped eagerly. I looked at the boy darkly. He wouldn't be so keen to get a caning if he actually knew what it felt like, I thought. "You saw Jones. You know what to do." "Yes sir!" With that, he yanked his tie off and started unbuttoning his shirt, going so fast that I thought he would tear it. He kicked off his shoes and dropped his trousers, stepping delicately out of them. I felt my breath catch in my throat: the little slut wasn't wearing any underpants. He stood to attention in front of Mr Dixon, wearing nothing but his vest, with his hairless crotch exposed and his hard little prick pointing straight towards the ceiling. The white cotton of his undershirt was almost undistinguishable from his smooth, milky-white skin. "Barrington," the teacher said meaningfully, eyeing the discarded clothing scattered around the boy. He scurried to gather them and put them neatly on the desk, next to my own. As he bent over to retrieve a shoe that had been kicked under the desk, I noticed that he had a spray of freckles across his pale buttocks. I started to giggle, turning it hastily into a cough as Mr Dixon looked at me with one eyebrow raised. Mimicking my own actions, Mickey finished folding his uniform and braced himself against the desk. Mr Dixon squatted down behind him, the cane resting against his shoulde. With his free hand, he lightly stroked the boy's pale flesh. Suddenly, he looked accross at me, questioningly. "Tell me, Jones, have you ever buggered young Barrington here?" "Sir?!" For some reason, he had shocked me. I had never expected to hear a teacher using crude language like that, not even one who'd had my prick in his mouth. "Have you buggered him, Jones?" he repeated impatiently. "Bummed him, fucked him up the arsehole, given him a good rogering." "N..no, sir!" Of course I hadn't! That would be queer, I thought. And then I thought of Mickey's dad, and how the man's fat cock had almost choked me last night in the toilets in the park. Who was I trying to fool? Besides, I had to admit that Mickey had a very nice arse. The boy was skinny, like his father, but he didn't have a flat, bony backside like his dad did. Mickey's milky-white buttocks looked soft, inviting almost. "Hmm. We shall have to remedy that, I feel. Nevertheless, the boy's punishment is rather more urgent. Barrington, you realise that in this school we do not cane boys in the first form. The slipper is normally used, but I did not think to bring one with me." Mr Dixon moved to a chair and sat down. "Over my knee, Barrington." Mickey scurried across and arranged himself over the teacher's lap. After rearranging the position of the boy's legs more to his own satisfaction, Mr Dixon slowly, ceremoniously, raised his hand. "A lesson to be learned, young Barrington. Mark it well." And with that, he bought his open palm down firmly on the boy's pale flesh. Mickey squaled and kicked his legs about, even a bright red handprint began to emerge on his buttock. With his free hand, Mr Dixon pressed down firmly on the small of the boy's back to hold him in place and gave him another blow. He squealed again and struggled against the teacher's restraint. The little boy was beginning to cry now, tears running down his red cheeks. "This won't do, this won't do at all," Mr Dixon said, shaking his head. "Barrington, get up and stretch yourself over the desk. Jones, you hold him there." Reluctantly, Mickey got up went over to the desk, rubbing his sore buttocks. His little dick was smaller than ever, a soft little worm trying to crawl back inside his body. His little marble-sized balls were totally invisible. Relishing the moment, I grabbed his shoulders and held him down. I grinned evilly: wank himself off watching me get the cane, would he? We'd soon see about that! Mr Dixon stepped up behind him. I could see that the front of Mr Dixon's trousers were well tented out by his erect prick, and I felt my own stiffen in my underpants, my bell-end was caught uncomfortably in the fly, so I reached down and adjusted myself. Mr Dixon shot me an angry look. "Leave yourself alone, Jones. I don't want to have to punish you for masturbating in class," he said sternly. Turning his attention back to Mickey's backside, Mr Dixon gently stroked the boy's bum. From where I was standing, my weight on his shoulders, I could see the goosebumps raise on his pale skin. Swiftly and suddenly, the teacher drew back his hand and landed one hell of a whack accross the boy's buttocks. Poor little Mickey yelped struggled under my grasp, but before he could break free the next slap landed on his quivering arse. And the next, then the next, then the next. The twelve year old was sobbing by now, snot and tears running down his red face, screwing his eyes up a little further as each slap landed. I counted ten in total before Mr Dixon stopped. The teacher straightened, breathing heavily. "Very well, Barrington. That's all. You can stand up now," he said. I released my grasp on Mickey's shoulders, and the boy stood, wiping the snot away from his face with one hand, and rubbing his abused buttocks with the other. He sniffed loudly. "Sorry, sir, it won't happen again," he said. I glanced down at his crotch- his little prick was still rock hard! Mickey saw where my eyes were and grinned broadly at me, making my now-stiff prick twitch inside my pants. I smiled back. Mr Dixon cleared his throat. "I'm sure it won't, Barrington. Now, to the matter we discussed earlier," he said and shrugged off the tweed blazer he was wearing. He took off his tie and unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a white vest, damp with perspiration, stretching accross his hairy chest. He pushed his braces off his shoulders and shrugged the shirt off. As he turned to hang his shirt on the back of a chair, he stared levelly at me. "Now, Jones, you claim to have never buggered this pretty little arse of Barrington's. Is this true?" "Y...yes sir," I said. "Am I to assume that you have never fucked anyone at all, lad?" he asked, slipping off his shoes. "That's right, sir." "Then I shall have to show you how it is done," he said, dropping his trousers. His vest was tucked into a pair of boxer shorts, which reached almost to his pale, bony knees. The front of his shorts bulged out obscenely, a damp patch at the tip of his prick showing darker against the light blue material. He reached down and fondled his prick through the material, looking at me speculatively. My prick was at full hardness now, pulling the waistband of my y-fronts away from my belly. The white cloth was transparent around the tip of my cock, made dripping wet by my pre-come. "Besides, I think that it might be a good idea to loosen the poor child up a little before you try sticking that monster of yours up him," he added. He turned to the smirking boy in question. "Right, Barrington, I want you to bend back over that desk and spread your legs wide. Ah, yes, look at that my boy," he said, indicating Mickey's freckled arse. It was a beautiful sight. His normally pale skin had been turned a raw red by the vigorous spanking. I reached out and ran a finger along one buttock, making the boy breathe in sharply. The plump flesh felt burning hot under my fingertips. Still fondling his prick through his shorts, Mr Dixon crouched down behind Mickey, his face level with the boy's arse. He reached up and grabbed a handful of my vest, tugging me down beside him. "Now, Jones," he said, staring straight at Mickey's plump arse-cheeks. "I want you to watch what I do very carefully." He reached up and grabbed a buttock in each hand and slowly pulled them apart, exposing the twitching little arsehole. The teacher bent his head towards Mickey's backside and swiped his tongue along the boy's crack, from his hairless little balls to the boy's arsehole. "Oooh, sir, your moustache tickles!" Mickey said giggling. Mr Dixon stuck out his tongue as far as he could and aimed straight for the boy's arsehole, driving the tip inside the boy. Mickey squirmed a bit and cooed with pleasure. My eyes fixed on Mr Dixon's face, buried between Mickey's buttocks, I reached down and started fondling my erect prick through the cotton of my y-fronts, flicking my thumb back and forth over the damp fabric covering my blunt bell-end. Mickey started grinding his arse back onto the teacher's face. The only sounds in the classroom were my breath, Mickey's soft moaning and the squelchy sound of Mr Dixon eating the boy's arsehole. The teacher pulled back, his moustache glistening with his own saliva. He held out his thumb in fornt of my face. "Suck on this, Jones," he told me. "Get it good and wet." Without hesitation, I leaned forward and took his thumb into my mouth, covering it with my spit. He looked at me, amused. "You're surprisingly good at that, boy. Been sucking off the first fifteen, have we?" I flushed and let his thumb fall from my mouth. That had hit a little too close for comfort. Mr Dixon took his wet thumb and played it accross Mickey's exposed anus, teasing back and forth and making the boy moan. Slowly, he pressed down, forcing his thumb up Mickey's arse. Soon, it was all the way in, and the teacher started pushing his thumb in and out of the writhing boy's backside. Mr Dixon pulled his thumb out and wet his two forefingers, which quickly replaced his thumb in the warmth of Mickey's arsehole. The man thrust his fingers in and out slowly, twisting them, opening the twelve year old up ready to receive his cock. Suddenly, the teacher pulled his fingers away and stood. He reached inside his boxers and pulled his stiff prick out of the fly, followed by the pendulous, hairy balls that had so mesmerised me the day before. He gave it a few quick strokes and turned his body to where I was still crouching next to Mickey's backside. "You did a good job on my thumb, boy, so how about getting this wet as well?" he suggested, grasping his prick by the root and waving it in front of my face. I kept my mouth tightly closed and shook my head firmly. Mr Dixon gave his prick another stroke, and eased the foreskin back to reveal his glistening bell-end. The shaft of his prick was pretty thin, but he had a fat, flared helmet, and only managed to get his foreskin over it with some difficulty. "No? Gone shy all of a sudden have we? It wasn't a request, boy. Open your mouth," he said sternly. I shrugged. What the hell? Mr Dixon's prick was nowehere near as thick or as long as Mr Barrington's, so why not? I leaned forward and swiped my tongue along his stiff six inches, catching and tasting the string of pre-come dangling from the slit on his exposed helmet. Grasping his thigh for support with one hand, with the other I cupped his fat, hairy balls and took his thin prick into my mouth. I bobbed up and down a few times, swirling my tongue around his head and trying to get his prick as wet as I could. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see his fingers back at work on Mickey's anus, probing and thrusting. Eventually, he grunted, clearly satisfied with his preparations. He pulled his prick out of my mouth and turned back to Mickey. Bending his knees a little, Mr Dixon lined his stiff prick up with Mickey's twitching arsehole. "I'm not going to lie to you, boy. This is going to hurt considerably, but I assure you that you will eventually like it," he said. "Your sort always do," he sniffed and turned his attention to me. "Jones, go and stick that big dick of yours in the boy's mouth. It should muffle any screaming. If he tries to bite down on you, just thump him." I quickly moved around the desk. Mickey looked up at me and met my eyes, grinning. He dropped his gaze to my crotch and he reached a hand out towards the bulge in my y-fronts. Licking his lips, he grasped the shaft of my throbbing prick through the cotton and squeezed. A droplet of my pre-come oozed through the transparent material covering my bell-end. I pushed my crotch closer to his face. His tongue came out of his little mouth and lapped at the damp material, making my knees buckle a little. Mr Dixon looked up at me sharply. "Can we please get on?" he asked. I quickly tucked the waistband of my y-fronts below my balls, skinned back my foreskin and offered Mickey my prick. He gave my wet bell-end a quick lick and then took me into his warm mouth. His eyes on mine, he swallowed my length down his throat until my bollocks pushed against his chin. I gave his mouth a few gentle thrusts before looking up at Mr Dixon and nodding. The teacher pushed forwards slowly. I looked down and saw Mickey's eyes bulging, and sucked a little more urgently on my prick. Leaning forward, I could see Mr Dixon's prick slowly easing into the boy's arsehole. The blunt tip of his bell-end was already inside the boy's tight little sphincter, and the teacher continued to push forward until the flared head of his prick was stuffed fully inside. He held himself there for a moment, his helmet lost in the little lad's arse, the end of the shaft tightly held between Mickey's soft buttocks. He started to push the rest of his prick into the boy's arsehole. Now that the man's broad head was already up Mickey's shitter, the rest of his prick slid in easily, until the boys buttocks were pressed up against the teacher's pale blue boxer shorts. A hand of each of the boy's bony hips, Mr Dixon slowly slid his length almost all of the way out, so that just the head of his prick was inside the boy. He caught my eye, winked at me and brutally thrust his entire length back into Mickey's arse. His mouth stretched wide open by my fat prick, the boy could do little more than groan. Mr Dixon started to plunge his stiff prick in and out of Mickey's backside, holding the boy firmly and grunting with each thrust. The older man was starting to work up a real sweat- his vest stuck to his chest and belly, the fabric almost transparent where it had soaked up the man's sweat. In some places, you could even make out the mat of dark hair lying underneath, and sweat was dripping from his armpits and onto the boy's back. Mickey had given up trying to suck on my prick, his mouth was lolling open, a trickle of drool at the corner. Mr Dixon was really ploughing into the little redhead: the boy was flopping about like a rag doll, impaled on the teacher's prick. His eyes glassy, and with every thrust he moaned a little, his whimpers matching Mr Dixon's animal grunts. My prick no longer needed as a gag, I walked back around the desk and squatted by Mickey's arse to get a closer look at the action. Mickey's tiny arsehole was stretched almost obscenely around the teacher's pounding cock as it thrust back and forth, the shaft glistening with spit and mucus. The crotch of Mr Dixon's shorts were sodden with his sweat and I could see it dripping from his fat, hairy bollocks, flying off them as they slapped into Mickey's own hairless little balls. Mickey's hand was a blur on his stiff little dick, his moans becoming more and more urgent. Suddenly, the boy froze and started convulsing, his prick jerking wildly of its own accord. Mr Dixon froze as well and let out an almighty bellow as he came. Gasping for breath, he held himself inside Mickey's arse. His big furry bollocks were pulled tightly up against his body, almost back inside his sweaty boxer shorts. Just the head of his prick was inside the little boy's arsehole, and I could see the shaft pulsing slightly as it dumped a load of thick come up the boy. With one last grunt, he pulled the head out of Mickey's arse and a final dribble of thick white jism oozed from the slit. Mickey groaned at the sudden emptiness. Still panting, Mr Dixon turned his attention to me. My stiff prick was still hanging out the top of my y-fronts, glistening with pre-come. "Right, Jones. Show me what you've learnt," he said, nodding at Mickey's arse. I followed his gaze. The little boy reached behind him and parted his pale buttocks, exposing his abused arsehole. It was still gaping open, and already a little of Mr Dixon's load was seeping out- a dribble of jism slowly crept down the hairless skin of his perineum to drip from the boy's tight little balls. I scooped up the sticky white fluid with a forefinger and slowly began to push it back into Mickey's arse. "Well, boy, what are you waiting for? Get inside that arse!" ========================== NEXT TIME: Gavin loses his anal virginity...