The following story is fiction about men seeking release from a grueling work week.  This is third part of the story and the characters are defined in  Week 1: Getting Off  which should be read first.  The story contains scenes of paddling and gay sex.  If these subjects are offensive, uninteresting or if you are a minor (i.e., child) please leave now.  I hope that you are smarter than my characters and take proper care to prevent STD's.

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Solving the Week's Final Problem
Week 3: Back in Detention


Saturday was strange.  I felt like a teenager again after my father had roasted my ass and I wanted to be a good boy and never get my ass whipped again for it hurt so much.  My feeling of guilt had been beaten out of me and that was good.  I even cleaned up my place that weekend and showed up at work Monday morn with a good attitude and the hope that I could make up for the previous week.  It certainly could not have been anything more than a coincidence the rich guy's needs complimented mine two weeks in a row.

By the end of the week, I was all ready for another encounter.  I was not even thinking about what it would be except that I was certain that it was going to be hot.  I got out of work right on time, stopped to eat and rushed home to shower and await whatever.  If nothing showed up, I would go to The Place and hope he would be there and if not just cruse as usual.  I was not, disappointed in the least.  An envelope had been slipped under my door.  I opened it immediately with great expectations.  It was a disciplinary slip like the one that was delivered by the kid last week.  By now my cock was rock hard in anticipation.  Several things were checked off but the important one was "Detention four hours" starting at eight this evening.

I took a quick shower, shaved, set the alarm and laid down for a nap.  When the alarm went off, I quickly dressed and went downstairs.  As I had expected, the car and driver were waiting.  I settled in and we drove off only to get caught in traffic.  We did not pull into the garage until twelve after eight and by the time I got to the detention room, it was a quarter after.  There were a couple of other guys sitting there with books and the kid who was the messenger boy the previous week was at the teacher's desk.  Oh, the room had been reconfigured as a small classroom with a half dozen student desks and some wall shit.

The kid looked at a piece of paper and said: "Dobson, you're late." and made an entry.  Then he turned the paper around so that I could see it was the detention log sheet and told me to sign-in.  "You were more than ten minutes late so that is an extra hour.  Take a seat.  Be quiet."  I tried to explain that I got caught in traffic but he snarled at me and pointed at an empty desk.  I saw that his name was Eakins.  I shut up and sat down.  It was only then that I realized one of my fellow detainees was the old rich guy.  He wasn't in his suit, of course, but a black T-shirt, black jeans and black boots so he looked the part of a high school student (almost).  I started to say "Hi." but Eakins at the front immediately rapped on his desk and snapped: "NO TALKING."  I sat down and waited to see what would happen.

It was only ten minutes when I got bored and realized I had forgotten to bring a book to read as that was the only thing one could do in detention.  Now I was trapped with nothing to do but to sit.  One of the guys raised his hand and waited a long time before Eakins acknowledged him.  "Toilet, please." he said.  He was offered the hall pass and was gone a few minutes.  When he returned, he gave the hall pass back and resumed his seat.  I thought about doing that but there might be restrictions and I really might need it to go later.  I continued to sit and wait.

My instincts were proven right a little later.  There was another request for the toilet but Eakins refused.  "You been twice already, Thackeray."  The dude pleaded that he did not want to wet his pants and Eakins relented.  Well, sorta relented for he said: "Use the basket." pointing to the metal waste can at the side of the desk.  The dude must have really had to go because he got up.  We all watched as the blushing Thackeray unzipped, extracted his hose and after a slow start let it out.  Turning red, I guess, was better than wetting his pants.

There was an extra price to pay as well.  "Don't zip up, but drop 'em and get over the desk." barked Eakins as he took out a paddle and walked around his desk.  Thackeray seemed to turn green as he complied and got into position mooning the group.  Eakins then gave him three hard pops so that his moons now looked like they do in a 'red' lunar eclipse.  Only then was he allowed to pull up his pants and resume his seat.

Things were quiet for a while until the rich guy raised his hand and then asked to buy out of the rest of his detention.  Eakins looked at the sheet and the clock before answering.  "That will be eight pops for the two hours, Manwell."  Manwell then briskly strode to the front, opened his jeans and pushed them and his boxers down.  He bent over and waited.  Eakins took his position and gave him a positioning tap before pulling all the way back and swinging hard on target.


The sound was fearful and it was louder than when Thackeray got it.  Even the first pop started the redness and there were seven more to go.  I knew now that I was certainly wrong with my first impression of the Kid (aka Eakins) because he could really swing that paddle – in short he was not as young as I thought.  My cock was rock hard as I watched each of the eight pops land on target hard and precisely.  Manwell was made to sign the attendance sheet and then pulled up his jeans and left.  I was surprised for I would have thought he would be interested in what else happened.

There were just three of us in the room now.  The last one raised his hand and said: "My time is up, Mr. Eakins, may I leave."  Permission was granted, the entries made in the log and he left.  That just left the two of us and I had a couple of hours left.  I wondered what was scheduled and if I should ask for pops to get out early.  Of course, that might mess up any plans they had.  I was still mussing when VP Radermacher came in.  He had changed clothes and now was in his suit.  Eakins addressed him politely and it was clear that he was a student monitor.  After the VP had examined the log sheet, he told Eakins he had done well and it was time for his reward.

"Thank you, Sir." he said nicely and then barked at me.  "Dobson, we want to go home not sit here with you.  You're goin' to get pops for the rest of your time.  Get your sorry butt up here and bare it.  NOW!" I was game and realized that if I refused the game would be over.  "Yes, Sir, Mr. Eakins." and moved to the front.  I slowly opened my belt and jeans – just fast enough that he couldn't yell at me yet slow enough to show a bit of defiance.  I pushed then down and leaned over the desk.  I knew he hit hard so I got a tight grip on the desk.  "Ready, Sir."

I did not have a long wait for the first pop.  It landed like a Mack truck hitting a stone wall.  I yelped but managed to stay in position.  I was not about to let this kid get the better of me.  Five pops later I was not nearly as sure about that.  I think I would have begged for mercy if I got three more.  Then Eakins gave me a hard push so that my thighs were up against the desk and my chin was on the other edge of the narrow desk.

"Don't move, boy." he barked.  Then I felt his hand in my crack and a couple of fingers were pushed in.  I did my best to relax, appreciative of the consideration to prep me for a fucking.  I did not get much prep for in a minute the fingers were withdrawn and replaced by a steel hard cock which was rammed directly into me.  As Eakins took his pleasure in my ass, I suddenly found that the VP was not just a spectator for he stuck his hard cock into my mouth.  I was getting at both ends and I loved it although it was hard to keep track of all the sensations that were flooding my brain.

By the time they each pulled out, I had come at least twice and was quite spent.  As we each pulled up our trousers, I remembered to say thank you.  "It's late.  Dobson get going.  I have some work to do in my office." ordered the VP.  I was sure that the "work" would be with the kid.

I left and took the elevator to the garage and was driven home.

Back home, I showered and got into bed.  I was exhausted and dropped off straightaway.  It was morning before I could try to resolve what had happened and, of course, immediately started to look forward to the next week.

Week 4: My Eureka Moment

© Copyright A.I.L. February 25, 2010

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