Date: Fri, 24 Jun 2005 17:52:46 EDT
From: Jonah
Subject: Spare the Rod

The plot and characters in this story exist only in my imagination;
anybody who thinks otherwise is mistaken.  Also remember that any
sentiments or opinions expressed are those of the characters expressing
them - not mine.  If you are likely to be offended by homoerotic
activity, or if it is illegal to read about it where you live, please
leave now.  If you are still with us, hope you enjoy the story.

Spare the Rod

There were twenty-seven of them.  From my desk I surveyed the tops of
twenty-seven heads.  Fair, dark, black, brown, mousy coloured, ginger,
red, long, short, curly, brylcreamed (I worry about that boy), and
unkempt.  Some had listened attentively to my discourse on the subject of
'punctuation'.  Some had been openly inattentive. I knew which they were
even before I read any of their finished work.  Now all was quiet except
for the scratching of pens, the occasional fart from Milburn Minor, and
the sniggers which greeted each eruption.

Twenty-seven thirteen year olds would have been enough to create the sort
of stirring in my loins which could only be relieved one way, if it were
not for the mammoth task of holding them in check.  It isn't about
discipline; that only comes from within, and is all very well for Scout
troops and Boys Brigades.  No! in class its all about control.
Relax the iron grip for a moment, and you'll never get it back.
Everybody in their place - everybody beavering away.  Look! Patterson's
going to leave his seat.  Stop him, before he starts a craze.  Corey is
casting covert looks toward Prentice.  Any time now he is going to speak
to him.  Stop him the moment he does.  You can't do anything about
Milburn's flatulence, but you can put down the sniggering.  Control -
that's the ticket.

Not that some of them were not attractive.  Occasionally the imagination
tries to peel off the school uniform.  I had to fetch Borrows from his
gym class to advise him of a crisis at home last month, and I'm sure he
could not have failed to notice my bulging fly.

"Corey!"
"Sir?"
"Get on with your work."
I told you that was going to happen.

Of course if you were still allowed corporal punishment it would have
been fun to punish Corey for that little test (because he was only
checking that I was paying attention).  Corey has just reverted to being
the top of a mousy coloured head, but his wide smile and sparkling eyes
are not unattractive, and he is well formed.  Supposing you were still
allowed to make him bend over and touch his toes (bet he's got lovely
toes),  The school trousers tightening over his lovely round cheeks.
Once upon a time you could have told him to drop the trousers, and his
underpants.  Phew! it's hot in here.

Not allowed anything like that now.

Hutch, now; a beautiful child.  Full of mischief, if he thinks he can get
away with it.
Dark of skin, eyes and hair.  That curly mop makes him look like Denis
the Menace, and he's got a personality to match, but his smile.....
unlike Denis, Michael Hutch could charm the birds from the trees.  Many
is the time I wished I could punish him the way we used to.  He's wearing
shorts today, I noticed.  I should have taken him to task for it.  I'd
like to take him to task.

My eyes light on the blonde fringe of James Dudley (who was it said you
should never trust people whose surnames and christian names are
interchangeable?).  The pick of the crop is young Dudley.  Slim with a
beautifully formed bottom,  beaming smile that makes his blue eyes
sparkle again.  Smaller than his classmates (except young Barnes of
course), so, so, endearing.  Is he talking to White?
And not ten seconds after I spoke to Corey about that.
"Dudley!  Come here at once"
That face almost melts my resolve.
"Were you talking Dudley"
"N...."
"Don't lie to me boy.  I saw you.  Can you give me one good reason why I
shouldn't punish you?"
Is that a tear?  I could be putty in his hands, but I'm in charge here.
"Don't snivel boy.  Can you give me one good reason why I shouldn't cane
you."
A frightened start.  he hadn't expected that.
"Sir! you can't"
"Can't!" -- a mighty roar -- "Can't!  You were talking in my class
boy - not ten seconds after I told Corey to stop it.  I'll show you what
I can and can't do.  What's more I'll be along tonight to tell your
parents why."
"Please sir...."
Plenty of tears now, but I'm not relenting.
"Bend over boy."
"Please sir,  I'll do anything".
Twenty-six thirteen year old boys have just evaporated.  There is only me
and James Dudley here now.
"What sort of anything? Stand up straight now."
Sheepish now...
"Anything you want me to sir.  I--I--I'm yours now"
I resist the urge to take him in my arms.  Firm and commanding now.
That's the only way.
"Strip!"
"Sir?"
"NOW!"
He begins to kick off his shoes and then pulls off his socks.  As he
pulls off his tie and pulls his shirt over his head I openly ogle his
finely formed feet.  They are small  and his toes curl downwards, his
little toes pressed closely to their neighbours.  He wiggles his toes as
he sees me looking at them.  I don't look away.  I'm in charge here.  As
his trousers and pants come off I'm treated to a fine specimen of
boyhood.
His skin is pink (but not too pink) and clean.  His softness does not run
to fat.  I run my hand from the nape of his neck, down his little back to
his soft, small, beautiful bottom; pulling him towards me as I do so.
When he is close enough I lift him onto my desk, lean back in my chair
and taking him by both heels, lift those lovely feet to my face.
"Corey!"
"Sir?"
"Come here"
The mousy haired cherub hurries to the front.
"Sir?"
Quickly I unbutton my fly.
"Under the desk Corey.  You know what to do"
I begin to lick young Dudley's soft pink soles as Corey begins to jack me
off.  Dudley is still frightened and submissive, but he has stopped
crying now.  In fact his little pecker is beginning to come to attention
as I start to suck on those tiny toes.  His finely pronounced Achilles
tendons rest on my fingertips.  As I suck each toe my fingers run from
his heels, up his calves and explore his shapely legs.  Corey has stopped
fingering my manhood, and now his lips are doing the job.  I watch
fascinated as Dudley's cute little pecker hardens and exposes his little
round balls.
Fervently I make love to those beautiful bare feet.  He is offering them
to my lips himself now, which is just as well because I have young Giles
Corey's head in my hands as I fuck his cute face.  Dudley is just
offering one of his cute heels for me to lick and wiggling those lovely
toes when I explode in Corey's mouth....which is the moment when I hear
Corey's voice from the back of the class.
"Sir!"
"Yes, Corey, I know the bell has gone.  I am not deaf.  Dudley you will
remain in your seat.  Everybody else, when you have put your books away,
leave in an orderly fashion."
That's a bit of a joke about the orderly fashion.  It will happen only
after Hell freezes over.

Young Dudley?

I need to have a word with him about his last piece of homework.  Yes,
he'll be alone in the classroom with me -- probably for all of two
minutes -- but don't worry.  he'll be perfectly safe.  After all, it's
all very well to dream about these things, but I'm a man with
responsibilities.