The following story is fiction.  It contain scenes of domination, spankings and sex.  If such subjects are offensive, uninteresting or if you are a minor (i.e., child) please leave now.  I've set this story a while back so my characters are not concerned with transmission of terrible diseases and there do not you condoms as you should.  Also, this story is a precedent for legal opinions which vary greatly in space-time.  Please enjoy.

This work is copyright by the author and commercial use is prohibited without permission.  Personal/private copies are permitted only if complete including the copyright notice.

The author would appreciate your comments -- pro and con, including constructive criticism, and suggestions.

It was apparently just an ordinary school day as Erwin Rayborn made his way home after school.  It would have been faster to take the bus, but money was very tight and by walking he could save the fare for other things.  He hoped that his dad had been successful in his job search today but he feared that would not be the case.  It had been several months since dad had gotten more than a day or two of employment.  Perhaps it would have been different had his mother not died some ten years earlier leaving them alone.  But that was not the way it was so there was not any point in his thinking about it.  What was worth thinking about was school work.  Perhaps if he did well, he could go to college on a scholarship.  A young man now, at sixteen and scheduled to graduate in a year and a half, he already was concerned about the future.  He saw that when times were bad how hard it was for his father without an education to get even irregular work.  The house was empty; perhaps it was a good sign that his dad was still out; the joyful thought that he was working passed through Erwin's mind and raised his sprits.

He went into the kitchen to get a glass of milk.  That is when he noticed that there was a man in the vestibule.  He was not scared because he recognized the man.  He had been coming for as long as he could remember.  The man was very old (in the teenager's eyes) -- old enough to be his father's father; his grandfather.  It was just about a year ago that he understood what was happening.  This man, and several others, came to be disciplined by his father.  He couldn't quite fathom why they would come to be beaten by a man younger than their own sons but he hadn't any difficulty comprehending the cash they left for the privilege.

Over several years he had spied on his father's activities and discovered what he did.  They had even talked about it and he knew that this was something which was very private and must never be talked about with anyone.  The times were hard and these sessions put food on the table.  He hoped that his father would return home in time to bring in the considerable remuneration.

He went to his room to do his homework but he could not concentrate properly.  "What if the man decided to leave?" he worried.  That would be a minor disaster; a major disaster if his father was not working but just trying to get work.  He thought about what his father did with the men that paid so well.  He had overheard the harsh words many times.  He had even investigated the special room, while his father was out, to see how the spanking bench felt and practiced with the strap and other implements.  All of this was considerably different from how his father spanked him in his own bedroom holding him across his lap.  He noticed the time -- almost 4 -- which was when paying visitors tended to leave.

He made a decision.  He made an adult decision!

He quickly changed his clothes putting his tightest jeans on (wishing he had leather ones like his father's), a black T-shirt, his leather jacket and his work boots.  That was the closest to the outfit that they seemed to like best.  He took an eye mask from the special room and opened the door to the vestibule.

The man was naked and kneeling on the rough sisal doormat.  He did not look up for a few seconds probably not until he saw the unfamiliar work boots and jeans.  There was a questioning expression on his face.  Erwin was ready.  "Father was delayed.  Follow me -- you most naughty boy.  It's time to get you ready."  He hoped that the simple direct order (although with some ambiguity so not technically to be a lie) would not be questioned.  He turned nimbly and walked to the special room worrying if the man would follow.  He heard the scuffling as the man followed.

In the special room the man remained on his knees.  "Give me the book."  Like a dog the man sat up on his haunches presenting a small notebook in his mouth.  Erwin took it and read the week's confession of misdeeds.  "Very bad, boy, very bad." he snarled.  "You must be strapped.  Get up on the bench."  The man obeyed once again. Erwin quickly closed the straps about the man's wrists and ankles; he could not run off now.

Erwin went to check if his father had returned.  He hadn't.  He paused for a minute and decided that he could not make the man wait any longer; he had to continue.  He returned to the special room to select an implement.  He really knew which one he was going to use but thought it would be good, as well as fun, to make the man worry as he selected one.  He snapped the short whip and heard the man gasp at the sharp (like a gun shot) crack.  He heard the sigh of relief as he replaced it on its hook.  He played with a cat and a flogger and then took the strap.  It was a heavy piece of leather more than two inches wide and a quarter inch thick.  He hit the wall with it and it made a very loud whack.  The man gasped and Erwin smiled.

Erwin carefully took his position (like he had practiced).  He raised the strap and brought it down hard on the man's butt.  CRACK!  "That's what naughty boys get." he snapped as harshly as he could (like he heard his father say).  Then he watched the red stripe form across the upturned butt.  As he raised up the strap for the second cut he realized that he had sprung a boner.  He brought the strap down for the second time.  The results were very much like the first cut another stripe and his jeans seemed to shrink even more.

Erwin kept at it.  After the dozenth cut the man yelled promises that he would be a good boy.  Erwin gave him a few more along with continued comments about "you better or you'll get double next time."  He stared at the hot red butt that was displayed before him and his tight jeans got unbearably tight.  He yanked at them and the buttons all popped open allowing his most excited young manhood to spring out.  Erwin knew that he had to get off; his erection was so hard that it was painful.  The man twitched and Erwin got a view of his butt hole.  His cock took command of his body.  Erwin stepped forward and, for the very first time, entered into another.  Even if the man had objected to the intrusion it would not have mattered for a very excited young man's cock is steel hard.  He loved the hot hole he was in and instinct got him thrusting in and out like a mink in heat.  Erwin quickly exploded, blasting his spunk deep into the helpless man.  He remained hard and continued to fuck until he came a second time.

Erwin withdrew and unstrapped the man who dropped to his knees and kowtowed.  He pulled the man up by his hair and ordered him to lick his cock clean while telling him that his sperm was burrowing into him.  When his cock was clean, he dismissed the man who said: "Thank you, Young Master."

A few minutes later he fetched the envelope the man had left.  He was surprised that it contained an extra 30 percent.  He was elated.  He went to do his homework.

I had been waiting in Master's vestibule for more than an hour.  I was naked, having piled my clothes neatly as required.  I've been doing this for a decade since I was 56 and Master was 31.  As you can guess, he has ordered me to do this.  It is rare that he makes me wait more than a half hour but sometimes he gets too busy to punish me and, of course, use me to pleasure him.  It is OK because I know he really does care for me and would be here if he could.

My ears perked up as I heard the clank of the dead bolt, the turn of the knob and the creak of the door as it was opened.  Of course, I did not look up at Master.  Then I saw that he was wearing denim jeans and work boots rather than his customary leather and dress boots.  Only then did I dare to look up to see him.  It was not Master but a much younger man; a youth in fact.  Before I could question him he barked an order.

"Father was delayed.  Follow me -- you most naughty boy.  It's time to get you ready."

An erotic wave cut through my body.  I've always fantasized about a young man taking control of me but I've never dared to even try to meet such a young one.  Unquestionably, I was not prepared to question the Young Master in the Master's den.  Obediently I followed him -- on hands and knees -- to the special room.  My punishment book was in my mouth like a dog carries a paper.

I yielded the book and then got up on to the spanking bench on his commands.  I suddenly wondered if he knew what he was doing but by the time I did, it no longer mattered because he had bucked the straps so that I was securely fastened to the bench.  The single thought filled my mind: "I am his!  The young stud has taken over."  My heart was racing.

I wondered why he stepped out of the room.  But soon he returned and started to select an implement.  He cracked the whip and I was scared but, fortunately, he returned it to the wall.  Similarly, he tried the cat and a flogger but he was satisfied with the strap.  It was two inches wide and quarter inch thick, horse hide strap with a harsh bite.  Master has used it on me and I have not forgotten its kisses.

WHACK!!

Young Master hit hard.  He may not have filled out like Master, but obviously he was strong.  I felt like my head had popped off my body from the hard blow.  But, of course, it hadn't.  I had only a few seconds to count as otherwise the cut would not be counted.  I struggled to say: "Sir; one Sir; thank you, Sir." as I am required.  The second one was just as hard.  Young Master continued to punish me.  It was intense.  At twelve, I broke and was yelling promises to be a good boy.  The promises came from deep with in me.

The strap continued its work for a few more hard cuts before stopping.  I was sobbing like a little boy and did not realize what was about to happen.  Young Master grabbed my hips and drove his manhood directly into my hole.  He was very hard, potent and virile!  I would not have been able to resist him even if I had wanted to.  His hard shaft banged my sensitive love nut and it felt great.  Very soon I felt him exploding; blasting his load deep into me.  He paused just a moment and then continued to fuck me more.  Ah, the vigor of youth!  It was bliss especially with my ass on fire from his hard strapping.  I was sorry that he came a second time for then he pulled and left me feeling empty.

Young Master quickly unstrapped me and I dropped to my knees and kowtowed as one should to a Master, young or otherwise.  Young Master pulled me up by my hair and set me to work on his cock.  It was a great pleasure to lick and suck him.  Such staying power.  I sucked and was rewarded with another outpouring of his sweet man cream which I greedily swallowed.  He dismissed me and, taking my book, returned to the vestibule.

I quickly dressed, put an extra 30 percent into the envelope and left.  I already knew that I wanted to see him again.

I got home later than I expected and because I had not worked could only bring home some cold cuts for our dinner.  My son, Erwin, was very upbeat even though he knew I was unsuccessful getting work once again.  We were almost finished with our meager meal when he told me about his encounter with my client.  He was ever so proud when he presented me with the fat envelope.  I certainly could not blame him for that.  It was more than he could make in numerous days of mowing lawns or painting rooms.  I reminded him of the talks we had about what he should make of his life and that short term gains could be long term losses.

At first he pointed out how he had only been setting the client up for me and when I did not show up, went ahead.  He quickly understood the fallacy of this argument.  I was so delighted when he understood and said: "Father, I have been naughty and should be spanked."  It was difficult for him to say that.  It was our code that he understood that he had done wrong and should be punished.  Sometimes he selected being grounded or loss of privileges and then we discussed what was appropriate.  I'm pleased that we did not have to do this very often.

I was surprised at his response when I told him to wait in his room for rather than the customary and simple: "Yes, father." he said: "No, father.  That is for little boys.  I will wait in the special room." and he quickly went there.  I had to think about this a bit.  I gave him fifteen minutes to get ready.  I hoped that I was ready when I headed there.

I found him naked on the spanking bench.  He had gotten into position and indicated that he did not want to be strapped in by being on top of the straps.  "Please punish me, Father." he said shortly after I entered.

I took the strap from the wall and got into position.  I swung it at his well positioned ass.  It was hard to do, but it was my duty.  I swung it medium hard enough that he would know that it was real and gentle enough not to be brutal.  I was surprised when he counted it properly.  I gave him six and he took them very well.  When I told him to get up, he did and gave me a hug.  It was with difficulty that he told me he was sorry, thanked me for punishing him and, most importantly, that he loved me very much.  He then ran to his room.

A few minutes later, I could hear him crying softly.  The boy in him had taken over for now.  I left him alone for I knew that he did not want me to see him cry.

It was just over a week later that Father brought up my highly gainful escapade for another discussion.  There was a complication and since it affected my future greatly, he wanted to talk it over with me.  The client I had dealt with wanted more sessions with me and made a couple of proposals.  He would get Father a real position at a friend's company at a fair salary and make a regular contribution into my college fund in exchange.  Father was pleased that I recognized that this would be in conflict with the high ideals we had agreed on although still lawful.  On the other hand, it would insure that there would be sufficient money for me to go to college and get that all important and most valuable degree.

The world is not, alas, perfect and we must, at times, make compromises.  Father and I decided that a relatively minor compromise would make for a very significantly enhanced future.  He communicated our decision to the client.  A couple of days later I received a letter with an ad from a leather shop and a gift certificate.  The note was very brief: "You'll look stunning in this, Young Master."

I had to wait until the weekend to go to the leather shop for Father and I wanted to share the experience like we did when he had gotten me my first jock strap.  The shop actually expected us (really ME!) and the clerks were obeisant like I had never enjoyed before.  They actually called me "Mr. Rayborn" and "Master Rayborn".  I realized that I could get to love such attentiveness very easily.  The client had been very generous and I got a leather vest, a simple body harness, leather jeans and great boots.  I even got close enough to the adult magazine section to be shooed (albeit most politely) away but not before I could pick up a guide book for leather men.  Both Dad and the clerks smiled and it was packed up with the other stuff.  This was certainly the most fantastic shopping trip for clothes.

As soon I was back home I had to immediately dress in my new leathers.  It was very erotic as I read my new "text" book.  Fortunately I did not have to worry about school work for this day.

I will not bore you with the details of my next few meetings with the client because they were very similar to the first time except that I gained a lot more confidence and technique.  It certainly was a real pleasure to get the deposit slips in the mail a couple of days later showing how my college fund was growing.  Because Father was now working, all that money could be saved for the future.

What is of more interest to you, is that I told the client that he should wait for me next time dressed as a school boy and worrying about the note from the principal that I, as his stepfather, would have to sign.  I figured that this would let me have more latitude in the interaction with the client.  I had dreams of turning him into my little obedient boy after reading the special "text" book I had gotten.

I must confess that he did surprise me pleasantly by being in a private elementary school outfit in shorts, tie and beanie when I opened the door to the vestibule.  I actually had expected something more like a high school but this was even better for he was playing a preteen role.  I wished Dad had a den or office room but he did not so I took him into the family/living room.  Very solemnly, I opened the letter and read it making grunts of disapproval.  "The principal reports that two of your teachers have complained that you have been disruptive and sassy in class.  Is this true, boy?" I asked harshly.

He was standing staring at the floor, toying nervously with his beanie, as he hesitantly answered in a small voice: "Yes, father."

"Do I need to tell you that this sort of behavior is most unacceptable, boy?"  He shook his head to indicate no.  "It is time for a visit to the woodshed, boy." I growled and I took him by the hand and led him to the special room.  "We've had this discussion several times before but you can't seem to remember so I'm going to have to spank you, boy."

In the special room, I slowly undressed the client lecturing him all the while.  When he was starkers, I sat down on the straight backed chair I had prepared and pulled him over my lap.  I had to be careful that he did not fall since he is not child sized.  I got a good grip on his waist and caressed his naughty boy bottom telling him how this would hurt me more than him and it was his own fault that he was in the shameful position.  He gave a sniffle and I told him he would be doing a lot more than just sniffing very soon.  I knew that he could take a hard strapping so that I could not be effective with just my hand.  I picked up the little paddle I had selected.  It was made from an old wide old oak hair brush.  It was short enough that I would be comfortable using it.  I was not worried about the client's comfort, however.

I gave him a hard SMACK with it.  He reacted, perhaps more in surprise than pain but that was not so important.  It had an effect.  I gave him a lot more.  I really pounded on his bottom turning it a very cheerful red.  I could tell that I got to him because he was whimpering some.  I stood him up and parked him in the corner for a while.  Little boys are always placed in the corner after their spankings.

I had been considering if I should do something special or not with the client.  It was a tricky issue because it would show. I had, after wrestling with the idea a while, even discussed it with Father and he agreed that it was complex and could backfire.  On the other hand, a master, even a young master must make risky decisions just like a field commander must on the battlefield.  Then it came to me the client had indicated the right answer by the uniform he chose.

I resumed my seat and called for my very well spanked naughty boy to come to me.  He stood respectfully and docilely in front of me, head bowed.  "Boy," I said, "part of your problem is that you think you are a man because of some physical growth.  This is necessary but far from sufficient.  You need to remember at all times that you are just a little boy and that you must be obedient and respectful to adults especially those in charge of you."  I picked up the clipper, turned it on and grabbed the client's dick as I pushed the buzzing tool right through his pubes.  The client gasped but did not move as I moved the clippers over his skin and his pubes floated down to the floor. His cock stiffened betraying any idea that he did not like what I was doing.  When that was done as best as I could, I stood up and went over his chest with the clipper.

I was very aroused by doing all of this as you would expect.  The client was reacting for not only did his cock harden but his heart rate jumped.  I needed some relief before I did any more so I put down the clippers and commanded: "Kneel, boy."  He dropped like a rock and stared at my crotch where my cock was tenting the leather jeans.  I'm sure his eyes were huge and he was furtively licking his lip in anticipation.  "Take it out, boy."  He reached up and opened my belt and jeans.  My cock soared free hitting him in the face and leaving a smear of pre-cum.  "Suck it, boy.  Suck your Master's juicy mancock, boy."  And the client did anxiously.  It was great.  I felt so powerful and in control.  I tried to hold back to stretch the fun out but I could not and all too soon blasted a load down the client's gullet.

I pulled him off me and he muttered: "Thank you, Master, thank you."

I got him sitting up on the table and then pushed him flat. I wanted to finish the task I had started with the clippers.  I spread some shaving cream on his pubis and sack.  Then I used a safety razor to make him baby smooth like a little boy should be and dried him off.  I knew that every time he saw or touched his crotch for the next few weeks, he would be reminded of how I had shaved him so that he was like a little boy.  I pulled him close to the edge of the table and raised his legs.  His hole was fully exposed and I slapped some grease on it.  I easily plunged my cock deep into him right up to my hairy bush.

I fucked him hard and it was great.  The client loved it also for he reacted every time I rammed deep into him and hit his love nut.  Again, I came too soon but that is the way things go.  There was a small puddle of his own cock juice on his stomach.  I dismissed him.

Most delightfully the deposit slip the next day showed extra.

Life was much better now.

© Copyright A.I.L., May 14, 2006

Your comments are appreciated.  YLeeCoyote@mail.com