The Best Days of Your Life
This little story is pure fantasy – though perhaps some would wish it were reality – and it concerns itself entirely with the sexual thoughts and activities of boys and men. If such content is not to your taste then I suggest that you find something else to read. If the laws, wherever you are, make the reading of such material illegal for you and you progress beyond this point, then you do so of your own volition.
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The Best Days of Your Life
A fantasy by Ivor Sukwell
Dr. John Thomas surveyed the boys assembled before him. He took his time, his eyes lingering on some, his lips mentally curling in distaste at others, those that were clearly overweight, fat beyond anything that had to do with puppy fat, the result of junk food and lack of exercise. They would have an uncomfortable first few weeks as the School's strict regimen of diet and exercise turned them into something more respectable.
The boys were the new First Year intake, all aged ten and all, naturally, completely naked.
Dr. Thomas had no knowledge other than history of when a long-ago, far-sighted Government had decreed that Secondary education should begin at the age of ten for boys and that all such education should be in boarding establishments; and, further, that School Uniform was compulsory at all times until a boy completed his schooling at the age of eighteen. That uniform was identical throughout the land and consisted entirely of skin, the boys' own skin. From a boy's first day at school until his last, not a single stitch of clothing would appear on him, apart from any footwear essential for the performing of games and sports.
That rule was not just for school days, it applied to holidays as well; from the age of ten until he was eighteen a boy would spend his entire time naked, in school or out of it.
For many of the boys assembled before him it was the first time they had been so undressed, naked for all to see, and Dr. Thomas was always entertained by the way the boys reacted. Some would revel in their new found freedom to expose themselves, those who, even at the age of ten, had already discovered that the little bit between their legs had uses other than the mere disposal of water from the body. Others, often the fat, overweight ones, would have forced upon them the understanding that flobby flesh had no appeal to others, and they cringed in their embarrassment.
Fit, lithe young creatures gazed eagerly at other fit, young creatures and offered up their own small, slender bodies for viewing, revelling in the appreciation in other boys' eyes. No-one looked twice at the fat ones.
There were some, though very few, who were incomplete and they attracted looks of puzzlement from the others. Circumcision was no longer a common mutilation; as a fashionable practice it had long since died out – the lack of a foreskin may make almost no noticeable difference in practical terms, but aesthetically it had serious disadvantages, and, naturally, a boy always wants to look at his best. Parents, aware that where genital elegance is concerned, natural is best, no longer had infant sons mutilated.
Dr. Thomas gave one more look around the assembled, naked boys; an appreciative look, for although his inclinations ran to boys in their mid-teens he was well aware of the delights afforded by young hands and mouths, but, as always on these occasions, he was wondering which of the delightful, coltish specimens before him would be even more delightful in three or four years time. There were always some surprises – ugly ducklings could, and did, turn into delicious young swans and promising signets did, at times, develop into nothing particularly special.
The boys gazed back at their Headmaster, an imposing figure in his academic gown, the full red of a Doctor of Philosophy, although it was not the gown that attracted the boys' attention, even though the gown was all that Dr. Thomas was wearing. To their eyes his manhood was a thing of wonder.
Dr. Thomas was not endowed with anything spectacular, perhaps a little thicker than the average and at full stretch no more than seven inches, it was still the biggest many boys of ten would probably have set eyes on, and it hung below a careful coiffure of pubic hairs, designed to highlight and not obscure. Whilst he detested any body hair on a boy he was well aware that teenage boys like to know they are being fucked by a man, and that a little hair in the right places can enhance a teen's erotic experiences.
The boys he was looking at did not, of course, have a single hair between them other than that which grew on their heads, but neither did they have enough hanging between their legs to make them in any way exciting for him; delightful as objects of boyhood beauty, but not erotically so.
about to embark on your life as real schoolboys," he told them, "And I have no
doubt that you have all heard about a schoolboy's life and that there will be a
mixture of reactions and emotions amongst you.
Let me assure you that most of the things and rumours you have heard are true. For the next eight years you will wear no clothes and, in school, you will never sleep alone. Your hands and mouths will be in constant demand, not only from the Year Eight boy you will be paired with, but also from many of the other boys in the school who take a fancy to your little hands and young mouths.
Your Year Eight roommate will require that you pleasure him, and that, indeed, is your duty and you are expected to satisfy his sexual needs. If he wishes you to wank him, suck him and kiss him then you will do so; and if you don't yet know what wanking and sucking are, then I can assure you that you will have learned well before you get to sleep tonight.
What he does not have is the right to fuck you; for that pleasure he has to first seduce you. Your hands, mouth and cock are his by right, your arse is yours to determine if it is used or not.
No boy other than your roommate has the right to your delights, but he does have the right to attempt to seduce you into allowing him to enjoy them; the same is also true for members of staff – if they want you in their beds they have to work on getting you there.
Your schooldays are the best days of your lives, so make sure you make the most of them."
Dr. Thomas looked around once more at the assembled, naked, ten year old boys, many of whom were now staring at him in amazement at what they had just heard; could it really be true?
"If, as yet, you have never felt any cock other than your own," Dr. Thomas said, his face straight, "Then there are boys all around you, so I suggest you feel a few now while you are being assigned to your roommates. Just this once any boy may feel up another boy, or as many other boys as he wants."
Braver boys did so with little hesitation; boys who had older brothers or active fathers, boys who already had thoughts of cock slipping into their minds. All boys have such thoughts, though they arrive earlier for some than others.
Some, naturally, were concerned, their little bits instinctively self-protected, but a growl from Dr. Thomas ended such resistance and little cocks found themselves in little hands, and, much to the surprise of many, those little cocks evidently enjoyed the experience, turning from useless bits of gristle into things that resembled small bones projecting from young, lithe, slender bodies.
There were more boys in the new Year One intake than there were in Year Eight, so some of the older boys were obliged to take two instead of one, and, surprisingly, none of those so obliged made any protest at the imposition.
One of those was Marcus Grey; seventeen years old, a fraction over six foot tall, fair-haired and blue-eyed, he was fit, athletic and had a seriously high sex drive. Boys were his teenage passion and he indulged in his passion with dedicated enthusiasm.
From his own, early days as a Year One boy, he had eagerly made himself available to any who desired him. He'd allowed himself to be seduced by his Year Eight roommate as soon as possible, his virginity being disposed of before the end of his first week in school. His eager willingness to provide pleasure made him popular with boys and teachers and he'd lost count of the number who had been inside him long before he was old enough to produce sperm. Even Dr. Thomas, who liked adolescents and not pre-spunkers, had fucked him several times.
Once his own spunk began to flow he began to develop an interest in boys younger than himself and began a school career of seducing and fucking as many as he could. Now, at seventeen, he found his personal preference was thirteens, but having two nice, fresh, almost innocent, tens to corrupt and train was more than acceptable.
Peter was tall for a ten, four foot four and slender as a cane. He wasn't spectacularly good-looking, with mousy-brown hair and a mouth that was a shade too wide for his face, but his tiny cock did have a decent foreskin and his legs were long and just gently curving from knee to groin. Marcus wasn't the least bit bothered by the fact that Peter was not facially beautiful – from the neck down he was well worth looking at and his wide mouth was full of promise.
Paul was shorter and less slender, his thighs already showing signs of definition. His lips were pleasantly red, his eyes a pale blue and his hair almost jet black and, importantly, his little cock was still fully hard from the fondling it had received earlier. Paul's pale blue eyes spent as much time surveying Marcus as his did looking at the ten-year-old boy, and Paul's look gave an indication that seducing him would be a far from difficult task. That was fine by Marcus – the sooner he got his cock inside one boy then the sooner the other one would follow.
With two ten year old boys to play with, Marcus had no intention of wasting time. The small room contained a sofa, a cabinet for storing essentials – alcohol, cigarettes, marijuana and lube - and a king sized bed. A door opened to a tiny toilet equipped with a bidet and shower – the bidet essential for keeping boys' arses nice and clean. Marcus chose the sofa, sitting a boy either side of him.
"Ever sucked a cock?" Marcus asked Peter, who shook his head in denial. "Going to now," he told the boy, "Don't try to get too much in at first and mind your teeth; I want to be sucked, not bitten. And when I spunk you eat it all. Understood?"
Dumbly, Peter nodded. He knew this had to happen, but why so soon? And Marcus' cock seemed to be enormous, he'd never get it all in his mouth.
In fact, Marcus did not have an enormous cock, though any seventeen year old cock was bound to seem that way to a boy of ten who had not seen grown cock before. Marcus had a perfect cock for fucking young boys – no more than just under six inches in length and more slender than the average, it had slipped its uncomplaining way inside a very considerable number of young teen and pre-teen arseholes and would soon be adding two more to that number.
"You," he told Paul, "Are going to learn how to kiss. While Peter sucks my spunk out you and I are going to play tonsil games."
"Okay, Marcus," Paul agreed. "Do I get to suck you after?"
Young Paul was one of those lucky boys who had an older brother, a brother who went home for holidays. A year ago, the older brother, Mark, a boy now in Year Six, had decided that nine year old Paul was old enough to suck fifteen year old cock, a decision that Paul was very happy with and proceeded to surprise his older brother with how quickly he seemed to learn proficiency in that art. Young Paul really liked sucking cock and adored eating the fruits of his labours. Kissing was not a skill he had developed yet, so he eagerly opened his mouth when instructed and was delightfully surprised to find that having another boy's tongue in there, twisting around with his own, was wonderfully sexy, his little nail rapidly becoming a nail that throbbed with pleasure.
Peter's mouth had approached the seventeen year old boy-poker he had to deal with somewhat nervously. He had to do it, of course, he knew that, but he did wonder why. Thoughts of cock and sex had not yet made their appearance in his mind; he knew the theory, of course he did, all boys knew that boys played with other boys and that men liked doing things to boys as well and that, once he was at school, proper school, he would be doing all those things, but the urge to get started had not developed at the same pace as his rather splendid pre-teen body.
At first he was worried about the possibility of a nasty taste – piss came from cock and he didn't fancy tasting piss – but there was no nasty taste at all. There was a taste though, more of a subtle flavour than a taste, and he rapidly discovered that there was something quite exciting about having a cock in his mouth. Cock had a strange feel, soft and hard at the same time, and his little lips and tongue began to explore, finding that the bit underneath the covering skin tasted a shade more of whatever it was that cock tasted of than the skin itself did. And when he licked the uncovered bit it seemed to have quite an effect on Marcus, because, even though he was kissing Paul, he still managed a groan or two of pleasure and one of his hands began to stroke hair and back in what Peter could only interpret as pleasure and encouragement.
Feeling a little bolder, Peter gripped the shaft of Marcus' cock in one little hand and began to slowly move the skin up and down while holding his lips tight around the top bit, so the skin at the end slipped back to expose that sensitive bit underneath for his tongue to flick over, and then back up again to cover it. Marcus must have liked that because he began to slowly move his hips, pushing his cock in and out so that Peter did not have to move his hand up and down; all he had to do was wait until the skin at the top slipped back, flick his tongue around the sensitive bit and then wait to do it again. And again. And again.
Marcus was in boy-lust heaven. He'd kissed ten year old boys before, his cock had spunked in ten year old boy mouths before, but this was the first time he'd had the pleasure of having his cock in the mouth of a ten year old boy who had never tasted cock before. That was a privilege confined to Year Eight boys and Marcus was loving every second of it.
The knowledge that his cock would be the first ever to shoot in little Peter's mouth, that his spunk would be the first to burst on Peter's young taste buds, the first to slip and sliver down the boy's throat was amazingly erotic, and that, combined with the eagerness that Paul was showing in playing tongue games, meant that Marcus had to use all his concentration in order to make things last.
Fortunately for Marcus, sex was something he was very good at, and for the last seven years no boy, or man, had ever had any cause to complain that things ended too quickly. Peter's young mouth would be tired and aching before Marcus let his spunk flow.
Fourteen year old Ewan lay on his back, lifted his legs in the air, pulling them down with his hands so his knees were beside his ears and presented his teenage hole to Dr. Thomas for inspection, eating and fucking. He had been the Headmaster's fuckboy for the last half-term of his Year Four, a position he had worked hard to achieve. He had a winning smile, a decent body, enough adolescent cock to keep any man happy and an arse that just loved to be fucked.
He'd taken a fancy to Dr. Thomas, an early teen desire to ride Headmaster cock, and he'd made sure that he gave the man enough smiles, hints and winks during his lessons on the Psychology of Teen Boy Porn, to encourage Dr. Thomas to reach the opinion that Ewan's hole was one he wanted to enter. Teachers, of course, were only permitted to indulge in boys who wanted to be indulged in, and Ewan made it as clear as he could that he very much wanted to be indulged in and that any practical lessons in teenboy porn that his Headmaster wanted to give him would be eagerly taken.
"Perhaps you would care to take a stroll across the field with me?" Dr. Thomas had asked one early summer Saturday afternoon.
"As far as the bushes, sir?" Ewan had enquired. The bushes at the far end of the school field were a popular fuck spot, for outdoor fucking is a pleasant change from the bedroom, and Ewan had been fucked there many times before.
"Do you not think they may be rather occupied?" Dr. Thomas enquired, "It is a pleasant afternoon."
"Yes, sir," Ewan agreed, "But it is a Saturday and a lot of boys will be in town."
"Do you have a boyfriend at the moment, sir?" Ewan asked a little later when he was lying on the grass, screened by bushes, with a Headmasterly arm around his shoulder and a Headmasterly hand alternating between teasing teen nipples and adoring adolescent genitals.
"Ewan MacGregor," Dr, Thomas said sternly, "You are a rather forward young boy, and it is I who should be trying to seduce you and not the other way round."
"You seduced me when you asked if I would take a walk with you, sir," Ewan replied with a very cheeky and suggestive grin, "And I apologise for being forward but I just want to know if all you want is a quick fuck or if you are looking for a boy to own."
"Quite right," the Headmaster agreed, "It does make a difference."
"Indeed it does, sir, so if you want to own me would you please fuck me doggy and hard so I am in no doubt that I belong to you."
"Like it that way, do you?"
"I like it every possible way, sir, and if you own me you can do me any way you please, but if you want to own me you have to make me yours with your cock, sir."
Dr Thomas positioned the boy on his hands and knees and proceeded to acquire a new boyfriend, leaving that new boyfriend an exhausted and very satisfied teenage heap on the grass.
"This leaves us with the problem of sleeping arrangements," Dr. Thomas said when Ewan had recovered enough to understand words. It was a rigid school rule that no boy should sleep alone, so Ewan could not move into his Headmaster's bed unless his roommate also had someone to sleep with.
"I don't think that should be a problem, sir," Ewan offered politely, "Jack has a really big thing for Mr. Jacobs."
"And does Mr. Jacobs have a similar thing for Jack?" Dr. Thomas enquired.
"I think so, sir. Usually when Jack gets back after seeing him he's too shattered to even suck before sleep. I'm sure if Mr. Jacobs was to propose to him, Jack would accept like a shot."
And so it had been, the two boys happily spending the remaining nights of the half-term sleeping with their respective teacher lovers, Ewan now devoid of any vestige of body hair – a boy has to keep his man happy, after all.
Ewan had been delighted when he returned to school after the holiday to find that Dr. Thomas had summoned him for a `welcome back to school' session, and now he sighed with contented pleasure as Headmaster cock pushed itself into his fourteen year old hole. He loved having man cock inside him and Dr. Thomas was a very accomplished fucker, definitely by far the best Ewan had been done by.
He knew the affair would not last much longer, there were far too many delicious and available boys in the school for any teacher to keep to one for any real length of time; and, indeed, boys, unless they happen to fall in love, have a tendency to desire man cock new.
In addition there was the matter of the thirteen he would be sharing a room, and a bed, with. He had yet to find out who that boy was, but he had been thinking, throughout the holiday, of new delights to come. For the last four years he had been the plaything of whatever boy he shared with, now, as a Year Five boy, he would have a Year Four boy to use as he wished, and, much as he liked being fucked, he was eager to begin life as a senior boy and have a younger hole to plunder as much as he wanted.
That meant that this `welcome back' fuck was also a `thanks and farewell' fuck, and he did his best to make sure that Dr. Thomas had at least some regrets about the moving on.
"I hope you liked owning me, sir," Ewan said when his hole was leaking spunk, "I really enjoyed being your boy. I do hope you find a new one soon."
Ewan trotted cheerfully back to his new room, still leaking Headmaster spunk and wondering what sort of fucktoy fate had given him. Naturally he hoped it would be something really tasty that it would be an absolute delight to fuck, but more importantly, that it would be something that wanted to be fucked frequently. There were boys, many boys, who were less keen on having cock in them than others; they took it, of course, all boys did, but not with complete enjoyment and he didn't want one of those, even if it was tasty and pretty.
"I'm Ryan," a ginger-haired, freckle faced imp greeted him, "And before you say anything, you don't need to bother about trying to seduce me. I've only got one rule, and that's that there aren't any rules. Anything you want, as much as you want and as often as you want. And I do mean `anything'."
"Sounds good to me," Ewan smiled. "No rules at all?"
"None," the ginger imp grinned, "And I don't give a fuck if the marks show."
Ewan raised his eyebrows, marks, what marks?
"Been told I fuck best after a good caning," Ryan shrugged, "But that's up to you, of course, you're the boss."
"I've been told I'm at my best when I'm stoned," Ewan offered.
"Fine by me, stoned, caned and fucked sounds pretty good."
"I don't actually have a cane," Ewan pointed out.
"Never mind, gym slippers will do for starters; they sting like buggery."
"Better find mine, then," Ewan grinned; this was going to be fun, no doubt about that.
"And don't try to be gentle," Ryan told him, "The whole idea is to hurt me enough to make me cry."
"Really. Give you a magic fuck when I'm crying, and you'll probably get hard as a rock from hurting me."
With that, Ryan positioned himself over the arm of the sofa and suggested that twenty would be good for a first time.
Ewan found a gym shoe, torn between not really wanting to inflict pain and excited by the prospect of doing so.
Excitement won, and the prospect of turning the neat, firm, white young arse so temptingly positioned for him, into quivering, pain-filled, bright red flesh before he fucked it, just where it was, draped over the arm of the sofa, gave a little more force to his first swipe than he intended.
It had a remarkable effect: Ryan's arse cheeks clenched, relaxed and clenched again, his head jerked up, his thigh muscles tensed and a loud gasp burst from his lips.
Ewan stared at the effects of his blow, licked his lips and landed a second. Same effect; body jerking, muscles tensing and arse cheeks quivering. The only difference was that Ryan's gasp was louder.
On the fifth Ryan's knees gave way, he slumped down, arse no longer in the perfect position, and muffled sounds that may well have been the beginnings of sobs were escaping from his mouth. His arse was bright red now, a glowing, quivering target.
The thought of stopping never entered Ewan's head; he simply adjusted his aim to take into account Ryan's kneeling position, and landed number six.
Ryan's gasp was more of a yell this time as his body arched, and Ewan noted, with perverted satisfaction, that parts of his target were turning from bright red to a deeper crimson. He also noted that he now had a very hard boner, and that just from smashing a boy's arse with a gym slipper!
By the time number twenty had been delivered Ryan was howling, no longer simply gasping and sobbing. He'd somehow crawled back over the sofa arm so his arse was once more a perfect target, a deep purple mixed with crimson target, and Ewan felt a moment's regret that he had reached twenty.
He didn't even pause to think about what to do now, he lubed his incredibly hard cock, pulled quivering red arse cheeks apart and plunged inside.
Like any other boy of thirteen, Ryan had an arse that was no stranger to hard cock, which was just as well because Ewan was in no mood to be gentle.
Ewan drove in to the root in one, thoughtless thrust. Only fourteen, he did not have anything exceptional to insert, and, naturally, Ryan's hole had entertained older and larger cocks, so it was simply a matter of one push, gates opening and cock inside.
Had Ryan been able to speak through his streaming sobs he would have said, "Fuck me senseless," but he was unable to form coherent words. Not that it mattered, Ewan was intent on doing just that, and so filled with lust by the slippering he had delivered, he squirted a load inside and simply carried on, his cock barely softening before hardening again.
Even for a boy of fourteen, the second delivery of sperm takes a little while, and Ryan didn't have a single working brain cell left by the time spunk had joined spunk inside him.
A little while before Ryan was able to hold, let alone smoke, the joint that Ewan's trembling fingers had, with difficulty, managed to create, but when he was at last able to take a drag, his tear streaked face was a mass of smiles.
"Glad they put me in with you," he beamed at Ewan, "Think I'm going to enjoy this year."
"You actually like that stuff?" Ewan asked, thinking that he certainly would not.
"Love it," Ryan grinned, "We get hold of a decent cane and we can use it on my legs. Make me spunk that way."
"Caning your legs makes you cum?" That Ewan really did not understand.
"Squirt huge that way," Ryan confirmed, "We get hold of a cane later and you can try it. Mr. Smythe is brilliant with the cane."
Mr. Smythe was an elderly, grumpy, History teacher, whose speciality was the homosexual habits of European monarchs, an interesting subject, but never excitingly delivered.
"I like men best," Ryan was cheerfully announcing, "I suppose most boys do, but I'm quite happy to be seen to by boys as well. You prefer men or boys?" he asked.
"Up till now, men, I suppose," Ewan thought it through. "I've always been bottom till now, of course, so I suppose it hasn't made a lot of difference, really. Now I've fucked you, though, I think I could get well into boys."
"That's good," Ryan grinned, "I love being fucked. Especially after a good thrashing."
"Kinky," Ewan grinned back, thinking that he was going to enjoy his year with this boy for his roommate and pleasure flesh.
"Oh, deffo," Ryan agreed, "As kinky as you want."
Mr. Smythe surveyed the boy standing before him, hands behind his back, hips very slightly thrust forward in the approved manner, emphasising the desirable qualities of the more than adequate cock that dangled, still limp, between his thighs.
James Corbyn was, Mr. Smythe thought, an excellent example of what a good education can do for a boy. Five years before, when Corbyn had started school at the age of ten, he had been a blubbery, flobby, overweight item. Now the strict school regime of decent, healthy food, regular exercise and the rapidly learned understanding that no-one want to fuck a fat boy, had turned him into a very presentable example of lithe, healthy and quite desirable teenage flesh.
Now, as a boy of fifteen, he would be keeping himself in good condition by regularly fucking the brains out of the twelve he had been roomed with, and, with the cock he possessed, doubtless stretching the arse of that younger boy in the process.
Mr. Smythe, though, now approaching retirement, no longer had an active interest in the stretched or unstretched nature of boys' arses. When he started, as a young teacher, he had enthusiastically plunged his educated cock into the holes of any and every boy he could seduce. In his middle years he had developed a greater interest in the cocks of boys, gaining a deserved reputation for giving the best teacher head in the school. Now, approaching the end of his teaching career and whilst still retaining a healthy interest in teenage cock, he regarded the arses of boys as things to be spanked, paddled and caned. Fucking no longer held any real allure for him, partly because retaining an erection for long enough to do the job properly was a difficulty, and partly because he thoroughly enjoyed the effects that paddle and cane had on a boy. A well caned boy frequently produced the most delicious mouthfuls, and sometimes he was able to locate a boy, like the one he had found last term, who spurted his sperm from the stimulation of the cane alone.
Corbyn he didn't know about, he had yet to punish the boy, but he had hopes that the fifteen would provide some satisfaction, and however he reacted to the paddle and cane, he had a cock that would be a pleasure to suck. Mr. Smythe may no longer have any desire to fuck boys, but he still enjoyed sucking them.
"Why," he asked as he surveyed the mid-teen flesh before him, "Do you think you may enjoy punishment?"
"I'm not sure, sir," the boy answered honestly, "I've looked at BDSM porn, of course, and found it made me hard very quickly. During the holidays I experimented with using a wooden spatula on my legs and stomach when I wanked and I always shot big loads when I did that. I was able to hit my legs hard enough to really hurt, but couldn't get myself to do much more than tap my stomach. I thought I needed someone who knows what to do to show me if it really is my thing or not."
"Very sensible, James," Mr. Smythe agreed, "It is a boy's duty, obviously, to give pleasure to his elders and to take pleasure in those younger, and if you have a particular leaning then you should explore it fully in order to both give and take pleasure."
"Indeed, sir," James agreed, "So I wondered if you would care to thrash me?"
"I will cause you pain, you do understand that?"
"Of course, sir. That's the whole point, isn't it? You hurt me and we both enjoy it?"
"I don't know if you will enjoy it or not," Mr. Smythe smiled thinly, "But, be assured, I certainly will."
James followed his teacher into a room behind his office. He had expected to be taken to the bedroom, but the room he entered was no bedroom. He noted a metal frame against one wall, some chains hanging from a pulley in the ceiling and a strange looking table thing, padded on top and on the edge facing him. It looked as though there were straps fastened to the other side.
Opposite the metal frame thing, the wall was covered in canes, whips, crops and paddles, all neatly arranged.
"Observe," Mr. Smythe was saying, "Each item has a particular use. The paddle inflicts pain over a large area, no more than three strokes needed to cover an entire arse cheek. Crops are nicely whippy, inflict sharp bursts of pain to a specific area, useful on arse, thighs, stomachs and chests. The whip covers several places in one go, the tails spreading before impact; again, useful on both the front and the back of a boy. The cane is a more specific instrument. It can be used successfully on both arse and thigh and has the advantage that the immediate effect is considerable pain in a very specific location, but the sensation is so intense that it floods through the entire body. I would not recommend the use of a cane on any boy unused to punishment."
"I'm in your hands, sir," James said bravely, though he was wondering if it was time to say `thank-you' and depart as rapidly as possible.
"Indeed you are," Mr. Smythe gave another thin smile, "Now if you'd be so good as to bend over the table?"
James did, and Mr. Smythe fastened his wrists with those straps.
"You will wriggle and jerk about when I hit you," Mr. Smythe explained, "The straps are merely to hold you in place. I will use only the paddle today; generally beginners find that quite adequate."
James grunted, having seen the array of paddles, many looking something like table-tennis bats, he too felt sure that one of those would be more than adequate!
"It's perfectly alright if you feel like yelling or screaming," Mr. Smythe assured him, "The room is quite well sound-proofed, so your noises will not disturb anyone."
The assurance that his screams would not disturb others did nothing to reassure James!
"Shall we start with ten?" Mr. Smythe asked, "Ten to each cheek, that is."
The first two hurt, there was no denying that, but no worse than James had made his own legs hurt when he had experimented during the summer holidays. The third, sixth in total but third on his right arse cheek, made him gasp and the fifth produced a definite cry.
Number six made his eyes water, seven made him cry and eight, nine and ten, delivered one straight after the other, a total of six landing in not more than some ten seconds, had him howling with the pain.
Mr. Smythe undid the straps, told him to turn, looked with satisfaction at the considerable erection his efforts had produced, knelt, reached behind the boy, pinched hard on his burning arse cheeks and swallowed his cock.
James spunked, spunked almost immediately, and spunked big.
He'd spunked big before, naturally, huge loads when a fourteen year old roommate had pounded his thirteen year old arse with considerable skill and artistry, demonstrating beyond all doubt the effect that a well-applied cock has on a prostate, but this load was bigger than any he had yet produced. He would need to ask Mr. Henry, who gave an optional class in Personal Relations on how to induce satisfactory orgasms for a boy, why this should be so.
"Same time next week," Mr. Smythe told him, "We will proceed to the use and effects of the strap."
Dr. Thomas had a logistical problem to solve. Schools were, as a rule, allocated boys at the age of ten in the correct numbers to suit the number of Year Eight boys available. He'd been over-subscribed this year, but had managed to solve that problem by doubling up the extra first year boys with those in Year Eight who were known to have exhibited exceptional partiality for young flesh. Now he had another problem, less easy to solve.
An overseas diplomat had brought his family with him and desired that his two boys, one aged sixteen, the other thirteen, should have, what he had termed, `a proper education'. He could, of course, double up those boys as well, but felt that to do so may set an unfortunate precedent and disrupt the smooth running of the school.
Now, with the two boys standing before him in his study, a solution entered his mind. Both were delightful physical specimens; long-legged, flat-stomached and full-chested. Both, as one might expect considering their ethnic origin, were as black as black can be, and both had the full lips of their race, lips that would turn any man's, or boy's for that matter, mind to a consideration of the desirability of placing cock between them; and both were equipped with appendages that would turn any Caucasian male of similar ages, green with envy. That the boys came from a culture that sensibly considered the retention of pubic hair to be an unclean habit, served merely to emphasise the dimensions of the cocks on display.
And cocks were on display – neither boy showed the slightest indication that he had any wish to conceal from view the part that men (and boys) love to see; and indeed, why should they? They had more to display than others and display they did.
"Bill and Ben, I believe," Dr. Thomas began. He had been informed that the boys went by those names, their real ones being too difficult for most to pronounce.
"That is correct, sir," Bill, the elder, smiled and spoke in perfect English, "I am Bill, my brother is Ben."
"I understand that you have been fully informed of the nature of educational practise in this, and indeed, all other schools, and I can see that you appear to have no difficulty in adapting to the official school uniform. I understand, also, that your parents are perfectly content that you should be educated in the standard manner."
"That is also correct, sir," Bill agreed with the utmost politeness.
"Good. There is, unfortunately, a problem that I am having some difficulty in resolving, however." Dr. Thomas paused, thought and decided. "In normal circumstances you, Bill, would be roomed with a boy of eleven, and you, Ben, with one of fourteen. However, as numbers are carefully calculated, all boys of those ages are already paired and roomed. Further, there is the undoubted fact that no boy of eleven currently exists in the school, who would be able to accommodate your amazingly splendid cock, Bill, unless you have had considerable experience in using it with boys of that age."
"Regrettably, sir," Bill confessed, "Both myself and Ben are in the lamentable condition of being total virgins."
For some reason, perhaps because of what he was planning as a solution to his logistical problem, Dr. Thomas did not share the view that the boys' total virginity was in the least bit something to be lamented.
"Fortunately," Dr. Thomas smiled, "That is far from being an incurable condition."
"So we understand, sir, "Bill smiled back, "And is it permitted for us to say that we are very much enthused by the possibility of a cure"
"Indeed it is permitted," Dr. Thomas beamed and reached out a scholarly hand for the older boy's cock.
Soft, it was more than a full handful, but it remained soft but for a very brief time, swelling and lengthening rapidly to its full glory, a king of sixteen year old cocks.
Dr. Thomas released the magnificent organ, went to his desk, opened a drawer and withdrew a set of callipers, an instrument he kept always available to precisely measure the growth and development of the boys who passed through his hands.
"Very impressive," he said appreciatively when the measurement was concluded, "Seven point eight inches, a full eight if we take it from the foreskin and not the eye."
A tape measure was needed for the second measurement; Bill possessed a cock that was at its thickest half way down the shaft, and that is where Dr. Thomas measured, announcing, "Six point one, a magnificent cock indeed!"
At a mere thirteen, Ben was less in dimensional terms, but five point one in length and four point six in girth put him a good inch above any other thirteen in the school.
"As I said,"
Dr, Thomas returned to business, "I am unable to room you with boys of the
appropriate ages, or indeed, with any other boys. I have already been obliged
to double up four of our new First Year intake with suitable boys in Year Eight,
an unprecedented situation.
It would be possible, if all else failed, to place you in a room together, but that would be far from ideal. Educational Policy does, naturally, permit boys to co-habit with teachers, but only after suitable and successful seduction, and there is, of course, insufficient time for that to occur. I am, however, prepared to bend the rules a little, considering the urgency of the problem, and offer to accommodate you in my rooms for the time being. I will, naturally, do my best to seduce you during the time that you spend with me."
Bill looked at his brother, a question in his eyes. Ben nodded.
"We think, sir," Bill stated, "That we would be honoured to be taken to your rooms, and that, as you have felt our cocks and our cocks enjoyed that immensely, we are more than happy to consider ourselves as being properly seduced."
It was, Dr.
Thomas thought, a perfect outcome, an ideal solution to a difficult problem. He
had two delightful adolescents to enjoy, adolescents who were total virgins,
and virgin adolescents, under normal circumstances, simply did not exist.
They would not remain virgin for long, of course, but curing them of that distressing condition would be an absolute delight, and, the idea occurred while he was contemplating the glory of the cocks he now had to enjoy, there was the possibility of academic research as well.
His speciality was Boy Porn, and the idea of a paper on "Black and White" flashed into his mind. Once they had been liberated from the shackles of virginity, Bill and Ben had distinct academic possibilities. The boy he had fucked last term, young Ewan, had been an exceptionally eager fuck, and the thirteen he had now been roomed with, Ryan, was by far the kinkiest boy in the school. The four of them together could take Boy Porn to new heights.
Fame would certainly follow, possibly even a knighthood.
Dr. Thomas was most enthused about the school term to come.
Anyone enjoy that?