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Nifty - Gay - Adult Youth - Boys Joys And Sorrows At Sex Ed School - Boys Joys And Sorrows At Sex Ed School 5

 
Date: Thu, 3 Mar 2005 16:57:15 -0800 (PST)
From: Steve Storyman <stevestoryman@yahoo.com>
Subject: Boy's Joys and Sorrows at Sex Ed. School - Chapter 5

Boys' Joys And Sorrows At Sex Ed. School - Chapter 5
by Steve Storyman
stevestoryman@yahoo.com (text only)

Copyright 2005 Steve Storyman
March 3, 2005

DISCLAIMER: This story is for adults only. If it is not legal
for you to read erotic stories, or you are not of legal age to
read this type of story either where you reside or are accessing
this page, or are offended by male to male sex, spanking, or
other application of pain or pleasure to the body, homosexual or
otherwise, then click off this page, and do not read this story.
Contains gay sex scenes. Other standard disclaimers apply.
_________________________________________________________________

NOW 6 STORIES--SEE UPDATED LIST OF MY STORIES AT END OF CHAPTER
_________________________________________________________________

I thank all the guys who wrote to me. Your enthusiasm was great,
and I hope there will be more readers like you who will write me.
_________________________________________________________________


PLEASE READ THIS AUTHOR'S NOTE - "About Email"

This story is very difficult to write, and I need the support and
encouragement of others, to continue. If you haven't sent me any
email with comments on the story, please consider doing so. When
you write, if you don't have comments, you might want to pick out
the parts of the chapter/story you felt were the best--Thank you.

I'm friendly. No need to be shy--we like the same stuff.

Your email address and your words are confidential and secure. I
am not associated with any web site, and do not and will not give
out, sell, share, print, nor copy--or anything else you can think
of--your address or anything you tell me. PLEASE, NO ATTACHMENTS
AND NO 'IN LINE' PICS OR OTHER MATERIAL. I CAN ACCEPT TEXT ONLY.

(I write in "real time." There aren't any pre-written chapters.)

Steve Storyman
stevestoryman@yahoo.com (text only)

I'll reply to all substantial. (If you have a privacy issue
and would prefer that I don't write back, please tell me.)

Thank you. --Steve
_________________________________________________________________

BECAUSE THE RITUAL WOULD HAVE MADE THIS CHAPTER MUCH TOO LONG, IT
WILL BE THE SUBJECT OF CHAPTER SIX. WITH YOUR EMAIL SUPPORT, THE
CHAPTER WILL BE COMPLETED QUICKLY. --Thank you.
_________________________________________________________________

Jeremy Miles, Headmaster, Miles Academy

Phil Wertz, 21, supervisor
Mark Ericmann, 22, teacher
Brent Hallman, 17, Phil's student to have "conversion" ritual
Michael Lanikker, 13, Phil's student helper, darker hair
Phillip Ankleton, 14, Phil's student helper, blond hair
Sean Ballinger, 15, student from Mark's class, rewarded
Darren Donner, * 16, Phil's subject, falsely accused
Mark Wrent, * 19, "Mark the hunk," student of another
supervisor, (Jim Dozny)

* receives a mention but does not appear in this chapter

NEW { Ethan Dremmond, 17, student, wise guy, punished
THIS { Kyle Roland, 15, student, a cute bottom
CHAPTER { Simon Kelms, 17, student with a big lap
(Mark's { Dennis Rex, 16, student, basketball player
students) { Tyler Adamson, 16, student with lowest grades
in the class
_________________________________________________________________

For Peter

CLASSROOM DISCIPLINE
_________________________________________________________________


FROM THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER

I postponed the use of testosterone to enhance Darren's sexual
craving, and timed my exit to coincide with my estimate of the
his breakthrough point.

Through the front door of my quarters, I could hear the boy begin
to moan, after I locked the entrance and began walking down the
hall.

"Ah! Oh, God, oh! Oh. Oh! Oh! SIR! Oh, God, please . . .
Ahrrrgghhh! . . . Nooooooooooooo! FUCK!"

[FROM CH. 4]
_______________________________________________________________


CHAPTER 5

As I walked down the hall and away from my room, I heard Darren's
screams of anguish blending with the sounds of my footsteps. The
boy sounded so sensuously agonized, I was tempted to return to my
room for a sexual interlude, my own need throbbing indecently,
bulging my shorts as I walked--not an uncommon condition among
supervisors.

The whole scene with Darren had thoroughly aroused me,
temporarily eclipsing my focus on helping him. The kind of help
I needed to give him in the required scene was inseparable from
sexual involvement--one of the realities of life at Miles Academy
that made my job enjoyable.

Time nor conscience would permit me to take the time necessary to
have a proper session with the boy---and since I had thought to
relieve myself only, leaving Darren sexually unsatisfied once
again--returning to my room would have been a selfish waste of
time.

Aside from my distracting state of arousal, most of my thoughts
regarding Darren were more centered on the results I would get--
increasing his confidence and helping him to interact more
sociably with his peers. The fact that I had dominion over his
sexual functions was not quite as exciting as the fact that
Darren would have more control and common sense--would be more at
ease with himself when I was through training him. That would
also help him experience more pleasure--more carefree, delicious,
adolescent orgasms--as he progressed with my training.

In this short time as supervisor, I had begun to think of my
position as more of a lifestyle than a job. I worked here, lived
here, enjoyed the work--and the school had a liberal leave
policy, including alternate weekends off. And I had a very good-
looking 17-year-old to supervise, Brent Hallman. Later, I would
have him sexually, as well--assuming the ritual did not consume
the boy.

As I turned a corner in the long hallway and continued my journey
back to Brent's training room, thoughts of Phillip, Michael,
Mark, and Mark's boys flooded in--but Brent and my obligations to
him in preparing for the ritual took precedence. I had already
requested to have Brent transferred to me permanently--a request
I was assured would be granted.

I also had sensual visions of Mark the hunk, the 19-year-old, but
he'd already been sent back to his supervisor.

I finally arrived at the training room.

"There he is," Mark said to the others. "Phil!"

Mark the teacher met me at the door with an orderly line up of
students at hand.

"Hello," I said. We exchanged greetings.

"I had the system on 'seek' for you," Mark said. "We started
lining up as soon as you left your suite."

"So THAT'S how you managed to be all lined up and ready!" I said,
suddenly remembering the electronic ID bracelets we all wore on
our ankles--staff and students alike. The system could locate
me, or anyone else, anywhere in the building or on the grounds.

"Glad you're back so soon," Mark said.

"Thanks." Strange--I had thought I was gone a long while.

"I saw a memo that said we're going to get different colored
shorts to distinguish us from the students--a pale green."

"Shit! Three centuries of institutional green, and we still
can't get rid of that color," I said in mock disgust.

The color change was needed. Since I looked a bit younger than
my 21 years, and was a new face at Miles Academy, I had often
wondered if anyone had taken me for a student.

I noticed Brent standing next to Mark--which might have given a
casual observer the impression that Brent was a supervisor
instead of a student soon to undergo a demanding ritual. But if
anyone had mistaken Mark for a supervisor, it was my doing--I had
left instructions to give the lad a break and let him mingle
about casually, as long as he remained under Mark's control.

"Anything else to do here, before we take off for your
classroom?" I asked Mark.

"No, Phil, not that I can think of."

"Too bad, Phil," Brent said, grinning deviously, "we were just
going to get into the hot wax--for guess who." Brent looked my
way expectantly.

"Phillip and Michael I presume," I said, amused at the thought.

It would be interesting to have watched my two helper boys squirm
and complain with the not-too-terribly-hot wax dripping on
various parts of them, but I was anxious to get to Mark's
classroom and witness some schoolroom punishment. Besides, in my
spare time, I would see Phillip and Michael's reactions to hot
wax for myself--under more private circumstances.

There were strict rules regarding the permitted wax temperature
for each age group.

"Yes," Mark the teacher said with a grin that seemed to imply
that we could play with the wax and my helper boys anytime we
wanted. He suddenly stared at my shorts.

"I'll have to keep that in mind for the two of them," I said,
waving Brent away so I could converse privately with Mark.

Mark whispered to me. "It's none of my business, Phil, I know--
but--did you stick something in your shorts or have you been
horny all this time?"

"Horny the whole time," I said with a grin, and feeling giddy.
"Guilty as charged. And with balls aching."

Mark raised his hand, a signal for silence, and a hush fell over
the room. The watching, well-trained roomful of students knew to
become silent immediately, and remain so or face punishment.

"Phil, you'll go insane, holding off that long!" Mark whispered,
as he eyed the bulge in my shorts and took me to an anteroom.

"I could call in your favorite boy--Mark Wrent. He'd take care
of you."

"Mark--the nineteen year old, Darren's delivery boy, yes--how did
you know?" The boy had quickly become special to me.

"When he came by to deliver Darren, your eyes popped out, Phil.
So did your dick."

Even more than Brent, Mark was my ideal boy--if you can call a
19-year-old a boy. His body hair was perfect--mainly smooth,
except for his head, armpits, and legs below the knees. I found
his blue-green eyes alluring and hypnotic.

In the recent past, I had jerked off to pictures of young men
with smooth thighs--now I had one that I could call upon--and he
was tall and nicely built, to boot. I liked to think of him as
'Mark the hunk.' Of course, certain of the younger boys also
piqued my interest--but in a different way.

"Yeah--well, what about you?" I said to the hot-looking teacher,
remembering our earlier conversation confirming a mutual
attraction, "We could get in on, in a--"

"Yes, we could," he said, squeezing his dick through his shorts,
"but we mustn't--we're on duty, and the boys are waiting."

"I probably should jerk off, Mark, but I'll wait. I have some
unformed thoughts about making plans for tonight."

"Okay--promise you'll tell me all about it tomorrow, when I fuck
your brains out."

"After I fuck you, yeah," I said, grinning like a school kid.

"You'll have to tie me down first."

"Hey, no problem!" I said, as we re-entered Brent's training
room, now relatively full of boys, with Mark's students around.

"I need to get back to my classroom." Mark's smile was inviting.
"You're still planning on coming along to witness some of the
punishments, aren't you?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world!"

"Your cock's bulging obscenely," Mark said, pretending to be
offended.

"Seems to have a nice effect on my boys," I said.

"Count me in as a boy, then."

"I will--and I'll bring my ropes."

"That's okay--I have my own."

"What more could I ask for?" I said, readjusting my stubborn
bone.

"Let me warn you, Phil" Mark said, frowning with concern, "if you
come in your shorts it will be more than embarrassing."

"Warning well taken," I said, grinning, and feeling confident.

Before leaving for the classroom, I found Phillip and Michael. I
made them put on the same student shorts that Brent was wearing.
Now, the three boys and I were dressed.

At first, Phillip and Michael complained about putting clothing
on. But soon it became a status thing for them--THEY got to be
dressed, and therefore, in their minds, they were superior to
Mark's older but naked students.

I remembered to take Brent's form. Luckily, the Prep Center was
on the way to Mark's classroom, so I was able to drop off the
signed document, myself. I was told that Mr. Miles would call
and meet me at the Prep Center later for a planning session, and
that we had plenty of time before that would happen.

Mark took his three badly-caned boys to the doctor's office. The
trio seemed to have recovered quite well in this short time,
judging by their jocular mood, although their rear ends needed
attention.

I made a mental note to log on to the system later, to view the
video of the three students with the doctor. All student
activity at the school was recorded on e-video--and available to
staff for later viewing.

We re-grouped and began the long walk to Mark's classroom. I
lagged behind with Brent, Phillip, and Michael close at hand.

I had a sudden change of plan--a detour that would not take long.

"Why are we slowing down?" Phillip the curious said, half
whining.

"Brent, stand right here," I said discreetly, stopping at a staff
rest room. "If anyone--I mean ANYONE--speaks to you or asks
anything, bang on the door immediately."

"Yes, sir," Brent said with a knowing grin.

"What's going on?" Michael asked, as I pushed my two young
helpers into the bathroom. I shoved them into a stall with me.

"You're my two helpers right?"

"Yeah? Oh, I get it," Phillip said, his eyes lighting up with
glee.

"What?" Michael said, whining, as if he were being excluded.

"THIS!" Phillip said, half shouting to Michael, squeezing the
bulge in my shorts. "Phil needs help."

"Ohhhhh," Michael said--a sly, sensual grin forming instantly.

I thought perhaps Michael's intense sexual excitement might be
dulling his high intellect.

"I'll get his shorts," Phillip said, yanking down the garment.

"I'll suck his dick!" Michael said.

"No, *I* will! You get his balls," Phillip insisted.

"Just take turns, guys, hurry up," I said, wondering why I hadn't
thought of this earlier.

It took all of twelve seconds, I think, for me to unload a record
amount of semen into Phillip's hot little mouth. I never felt so
relieved in my life. Phillip had this shit-eating grin. Michael
was disappointed.

"Mmm, that was great, thanks guys!"

I was sure I had lots of cum and testosterone in reserve,
especially since I was still fairly hard, and thinking about
witnessing a bunch of students get punished in their classroom--
especially exciting to me because the other students in the class
would be looking on, as well. I hoped Mark wasn't too harsh with
the younger boys.

"That's not fair! You did it all! I didn't get to suck him!"
Michael said to Phillip, as we walked out into the hallway where
Brent was standing.

"So what? You got to suck his balls," Phillip said.

"That's like dishwashing duty, compared to a blow job," Michael
whined.

I rolled my eyes. 'So much for secrecy,' I thought.

Brent could not suppress a laugh.

"Okay, ball-boy," I said to Michael, "I'll make sure you get to do
the sucking, next time. I'll even make sure to fuck you before I
do Phillip."

"Ooo, yeah!" Michael said, glancing at Phillip with a boyish,
one-upsmanship grin.

For most boys, ball duty was okay--but only when you knew you
were going to get to do something more exciting with the guy,
otherwise it *was* low-level duty, as Michael had said.

I was at odds with that line of thought. Shortly after my
conversion, I used to masturbate, imagining I was still in high
school, and playing around with some of the football players,
whose looks and sensual potential, in retrospect, I'd learned to
appreciate. I'd fantasize about sucking the quarterback's balls,
while the rest of the team took turns blowing him or jerking him
off, trying to get him to come.

The four of us walked the rest of the way to the academic area.
During that time, I thought about the blow job Phillip and
Michael had given Sean Ballinger--Sean's first reward, one of
several, Mark had said. I was proud of my little pair for their
excellent performance, and I was sure my two helper boys had
given me their best.

We all made our way into the room--Phillip, Michael, Brent, and
I--all comfortably dressed in our shorts. I thought the 16 naked
students that comprised Mark's class made a nice welcoming
committee.

Mark's classroom was more than twice the size I had expected, and
seemed mundane, compared with the rest of the building. The room
was neat, organized, but sparsely decorated. Then I realized the
austere look of the place created a mood I found stirring.

Mark must have waited for us, because the entire class was still
standing--next to their desks. He gave me a nod as we walked in.

"ALL RIGHT," Mark said, "TAKE YOUR SEATS." Mark had to shout
over the usual noise and chatter to be heard in the large room,
most of the time.

I heard the familiar sounds of boys shuffling around in a
classroom--talking, chairs scraping, and students getting seated
--their bare feet noiseless, by comparison, on the hard floor.
The only odd thing so far to my eyes was the charming nakedness
of all the students. I was sure that was routine here, but not
in any of the schools I had attended.

Mark explained to me that all the classrooms--the academic as
well as the sex-ed ones--were much bigger than those in the old
schools, because each of the modern rooms at the academy included
a large area used for group punishment sessions and scenes that
would be inappropriate to hold elsewhere.

I stood well to the left, toward the front of the room, with my
three boys close to me.

Mark gave the silence signal, and everyone froze. Brent, Michael
and Phillip followed suit.

Mark explained to me that the class was required to be totally
quiet only when given the silence signal. He did this when he
had big speeches to make, to avoid shouting for long periods.

The good-looking teacher introduced us formally to his students,
and had them give us a round of applause.

"OKAY! GET THOSE EGGS OUT!" Mark said, as he walked up and down
the aisles, handing out odd-looking plastic bags to each student
--presumably for storing the precious erection-makers. This
silenced the class. Each bag had the student's name on it.

"PAIR UP, AND REMOVE YOUR PARTNER'S EGG. Use your rubber gloves
if you're squeamish. Be sure to put the egg in the bag with YOUR
PARTNER'S name on it. Partners! You're responsible for handing
your guy the right bag! And hold it OPEN for him--YES, even
though you're bent over."

Mark explained that the fluid in each bag would coat and preserve
the egg, and neutralize any micro-organisms.

"ETHAN DREMMOND, YOUR EGG STAYS IN!"

"Wow!" I said, watching each student start to play with his
partner's rear end, and trying to take in all the naked boys at
once. I was busy rubbing my bone through my shorts.

Ethan Dremmond must be in for it, I thought.

The squeamish students made themselves known--four boys with mild
looks of disgust, frantically searching for their rubber gloves.

Neither I nor my cock could believe this. A roomful of good-
looking 15, 16, and 17-year-old boys, half of them bent, with
their asses in their partners' faces, the other half poking into
those butt-holes, extracting a small oval thing, each boy using a
long, strange-looking device. I was well boned--and the
punishments hadn't yet begun!

Mr. Miles selected his students carefully--insisting upon very
good-looking specimens, or boys of average looks who possessed at
least one other desirable trait--extreme sex drive, a big cock,
exceptionally good build, athletic prowess, among them.

The students in Mark's class now poked and prodded their
partners' tight holes--far more than necessary--and the sound of
boys laughing, cooing, finger-fucking, grunting, and moaning, was
enough to make any observer's penis erect. Especially mine and
Brent's--we were seeing this for the first time.

Phillip and Michael had no choice but to be erect, because of
their eggs.

"You'd think they'd have the routine memorized by now, but that's
boys, for you," Mark said, grinning oddly, "always needing
reminders."

"Yes, and you hate it, right?" I said with an equally wry grin,
laughing to myself.

"I love these boys, even when I'm whipping them."

"You whip them, at this age?"

"Not very often--but fifteen and over, yes. We have varying
grades of whips for different age groups. And there are flat
floggers designed for even the youngest students--and as you
know, floggers aren't whips. Don't look so shocked, Phil. We
use Zeflon oil. And for God's sake, we don't go wild or get them
bloody."

"I know--sorry, I drifted off there." My mind had gone back to
Brent's whipping, and my cock was driving me crazy--again. I
kept reminding myself, the boys can call it off at any time.

"TAKE THE PILL, ALL OF YOU WHO'VE HAD YOUR EGGS TAKEN OUT."

"The pill, Mark? What the hell's that?"

"Neutralizes the effects of the Endorlone immediately."

"Ah," I said, not comprehending why such a thing would be
necessary.

"I need them on their own body chemistry as far as arousal is
concerned."

"TAKE YOUR SEATS" Mark said, ending most of the playing around,
although some students groped each other under their desks.

A good number of Mark's boys remained hard or semi-hard, even
after taking the pill.

"PUT YOUR SCHOOL SHORTS BACK ON," Mark said as an afterthought,
causing the boys to groan in complaint, as they had to stand up
again. After the boys pulled their shorts on, many of the
students seemed relieved to be dressed.

"ETHAN DREMMOND, DON'T BOTHER. I WANT YOU NAKED!" the teacher
said--at which Ethan stood up and removed the garment with a
subtle air of resentment.

Mark let Ethan's crude gesture pass.

"Damn, that was hot," Brent said, touching himself.

Brent and I laughed to ourselves, quite aroused at the scene. I
had to *force* myself to think of Brent as a student now. I kept
thinking of him as a faculty member. Perhaps he had it in him to
become a supervisor, one day.

I turned to Mark. "That's weird--so many of them seemed
desperate to get those shorts on. I thought they liked being
naked."

"You would think so. But most of them get shy in group
activities. Especially my 15 and 16-year-olds. The school has
probably forty or fifty anal virgins--they're allowed to refuse
bottom training until the head declares them ready--and no one
knows the criteria Miles uses to determine that."

"He declares them ready? Sounds exciting!"

"It can be. I'll keep you posted since you're interested."

"Who wouldn't be? By the way, Mark, why do you have 15, 16, and
17-year-olds, all mixed together in one class?"

"Eh!" Mark said, shrugging his shoulders apathetically, "This is
a math class. In the academic classrooms, you never know what
ages the boys will be. We don't always know, but some of them
repeat a grade or two before they come here. You should see the
grade twelve academic rooms--with boys anywhere from seventeen to
twenty-one. That's the trend for *academic* classes. The sex-
education classes are separated more strictly by age."

"Must be interesting," I said.

"It's more than interesting. Some of them had such bad lives at
home that coming here is a vast improvement, and they're very
cooperative. Most of the others are anxious to try all things
sexual when they arrive, and we encourage them to maintain that
attitude."

"How old is Ethan, again?"

"Seventeen," Mark replied.

"Mmm."

"TAKE YOUR SEATS," Mark said, as the freshly-dressed students
didn't dare sit without being told.

"Mark," I said, changing the subject momentarily, those three
boys you caned so harshly at Brent's training room--why didn't
they call it off?"

"Their crime was attempted rape. I won't tolerate anything like
that, neither would anyone else on staff. That's up there with
the worst cardinal sins, around here. In the scuffle, they broke
the kid's arm--unintentionally, I'm sure. Fortunately, he'll be
fine, and his virginity is intact. The three of them knew if
they called off my caning, they'd go to solitary with chastity
belts for at least ninety days."

"I see. How old was the boy--the one they tired to rape?"

"Fifteen."

"Wow."

"When I get them back from the doctor, there'll be more hell to
pay, after they heal up."

"Looks like all your boys had fun, playing with each other's
butts," I said, eyeing the seated students, "but they still look
embarrassed," I said to Mark.

"Yes--you'd think they'd get used to this--but many of them never
get over their embarrassment. I'm hoping the younger ones show
some improvement when they take Intro to Assplay, next semester."

"Sounds wonderful. I might audit that class."

"If you have the time, why not?!"

The students' embarrassment was a human trait, I concluded. By
2108, we had advanced to the stage where males could be proud of
their sexual activities with boys or men, but most were not
accustomed to group sex, thus their shyness under those
circumstances.

I supposed there always would be die-hards, but it was part of
the academy's mission statement to make the newer generation of
boys proud of performing sexual feats in group encounters--
eventually eliminating this embarrassment completely.

Mark gave the silence signal as he glared disapprovingly at one
particular boy.

Ethan Dremmond knew he was in trouble. His eyes focused
nervously on the teacher. Mark only had to nod at Ethan to get
him to stand.

The naked 17-year-old trembled visibly while standing, but his
facial expression subtly identified him as a smart ass.

"As you know, Ethan Dremmond is to be punished," Mark said,
addressing the 15 seated students. "He's been our class clown
for some time now.

"You also know that at a recent assembly, Mr. Dremmond very badly
embarrassed another student--and student misbehavior of this type
is severely punished. For his clowning he'll be caned 6 strokes.

"For embarrassing another boy, 12 strokes, plus 30 days in fully-
monitored isolation--WITH the big metal chastity belt. While
incarcerated, Ethan will receive six hours a day of combined
dildo training and cock teasing of the most severe type
permissible."

"Wow, shit." "Man, poor Ethan," came sympathetic cries from the
unlucky lad's classmates.

Ethan grimaced when Mark had mentioned dildo training--giving me
the distinct impression Ethan thought of himself as a top.

Mark gave the silence signal again, not bothering to complain
about the unavoidable vocal activity of the class.

"Also, Mr. Dremmond will be in cell block 'W.'"

The class was astounded at the last statement. Cell block 'W'
was the strictest of them all. The least gesture or sound out of
place, and the prisoner could be flogged.

The school had its own prison--Miles Academy's version of a main
detention center.

Mark addressed Ethan Dremmond directly.

"I'M SURE, MR. DREMMOND, UNLESS YOUR BEHAVIOR CHANGES
DRASTICALLY, YOUR BACK AND OTHER PARTS OF YOU WILL BE NICELY
DECORATED WHEN YOU RETURN."

Ethan appeared to be nauseated at hearing all this for the first
time. He lost all color in his face.

"MR. DREMMOND, YOU WILL COME HERE, FACE THE CLASS AND TELL YOUR
CLASSMATES WHAT YOU DID TO EMBARRASS THE OTHER STUDENT, KENNETH
DANSLEY."

"Y-yes, sir." Ethan walked meekly to the front of the room, but
remained silent for a bit too long.

"SPEAK NOW," Mark said threateningly, "OR I'LL ADD TWENTY STROKES
TO YOUR PUNISHMENT."

"In the assembly, when we stood to recite the student pledge, I
pulled his shorts down," the boy said, hesitating and starting to
blush, "and started to . . . to jerk him off, sir."

"EXPLAIN THAT, MR. DREMMOND."

"I held his coc--penis, and stroked it."

"AND WHAT HAPPENED?"

"He got hard, sir."

"SPEAK TO THE CLASS, ETHAN. YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE TELLING THEM,
NOT ME. WHAT HAPPENED AFTER THAT?"

"I sat behind him in his seat and put my knees against his butt,
so he couldn't sit down after the pledge. He was the only one
standing, and . . . Mr. Miles saw him standing with a hardon, and
he got in trouble."

"EXACTLY WHAT TYPE OF TROUBLE?" Of course, the students had been
at that assembly and already knew what had occurred.

"Mr. Miles interrupted the assembly, and . . . and called Kenneth
to the front and caned him, naked."

"AND WHAT WAS YOUR FAILING, ETHAN?"

"I shouldn't have pantsed him or jerked him off."

"AND?!" Mark said, becoming very impatient.

"And I should've told Mr. Miles right then . . . that I did that
to him--that he couldn't help it."

"DO YOU DESERVE THE SENTENCE YOU HAVE BEEN GIVEN?"

Ethan paused, his head lowered, "Yes, sir," he said softly.

"I'LL SEE TO IT THAT YOUR CANING IS MOST SEVERE. IF YOU SHOULD
BE SO FOOLISH TO AGAIN CAUSE ANOTHER BOY ANY TYPE OF SUFFERING,
YOU'LL LAND IN JAIL FOR A YEAR. AND SESSIONS IN THE MAIN DISPLAY
CASE--SUCKING THIRTEEN-YEAR-OLDS AND RECEIVING A FLOGGING ON
ALTERNATE DAYS."

I had seen that display case, as well as several other, smaller
ones in the hallway, all empty. I was very curious about their
purpose.

"Y-yes, sir." The shame on Ethan's face was quite evident. In
addition to a long jail sentence, receiving frequent floggings and
giving blow jobs to 13-year-olds were not happy thoughts for
Ethan, apparently. The lad must have been from really old-school
parentage who found shame in pleasuring younger boys.

"HOWEVER," Mark continued, addressing the class again, "BECAUSE
ALL OF YOU REMAINED SILENT AT THE ASSEMBLY, *AND* WENT ALONG WITH
ETHAN WHEN HE THOUGHT WATER BALLOONS WOULD BE FUN LAST THURSDAY,
THE LOT OF YOU--ALL FIFTEEN--WILL RECEIVE 6 STROKES OF THE CANE.
THAT IS OUR NEXT ORDER OF BUSINESS."

The class became a unified mass of complaint, moaning their
miserable plight. All sympathy for Ethan Dremmond vanished.

Apparently Mark had changed his mind, and would give Sean
Ballinger his additional reward later.

Mark had the class stand and move to the large open area between
the students' desks and the windows. Everyone had an assigned
place to stand.

"DO I NEED TO REMIND YOU TO UNDRESS?"

The class silently walked back to their desks to remove their
tight, gray shorts--many of the boys markedly red-faced. Soon
they were standing in their assigned places again.

"Mark--what the hell are those display cases for?"

"A form of punishment and embarrassment, mainly--the boy on
display for many hours. Students can be punished in the main
display case. Or, after a caning or flogging, a boy can be
restrained in one of the smaller ones, his marks and naked body
on view for all to see--as part of his overall punishment."

"I'll definitely keep an eye out for that!" It wouldn't work for
Michael, though, with his exhibitionist tendencies.

It was exciting to see the 15 students standing naked, fretting
nervously about their upcoming caning--some with their hands on
their buttocks, anticipating the grueling menace of the cane;
some holding their genitals protectively.

Their dicks were an interesting sight, too--a few were soft, but
most were in various stages of erection.

Mark explained the plan to me. The students were assigned to
either Group A or B--each group normally containing eight
students. Under Mark's close watch, the students would cane each
other. Group A canes B, then B canes A.

An unpleasant punishment would be given to any boy who gave his
partner strokes of the cane that weren't sufficiently hard, to
Mark's satisfaction.

"Most of the time, they hit harder than I would," Mark explained
quietly, "but not for a caning. They know how painful that is--
and they know just how hard to hit to satisfy my standards."

Without Ethan, there were only 15 students to be caned, but there
was one boy with the lowest grades, a 16-year-old, who would be
caned alone, the others to form a semi-circle around him--an
especially humiliating experience for a boy of any age.

That left two groups of seven boys who would cane each other.

"TYLER ADAMSON," Mark said commandingly, "YOU HAVE THE
DISTINCTION, THIS TIME, OF BEING OUR STUDENT WITH THE LOWEST
CLASS GRADE. DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS NOW, MR. ADAMSON?"

"Y-yes, sir," the striking 16-year-old said. The boy was about 5
feet, 8 inches tall, 135 pounds, dark brown hair, eyes to match,
with quite a smooth, slender but sculpted tanned body. "It means
you'll cane me in front of the others."

The good-looking lad seemed almost broken by this knowledge--head
down, arms limp at his sides, and a forlorn expression. His
stunning dark hair and beautiful eyes made him a 'must-have' for
me. I licked my lips discreetly at Phil, who nodded knowingly.

"COME HERE, BOY."

All could hear the slow, sorrowful sounds of the boy's bare feet
as Tyler walked heavily, making his way to the center of the main
punishment area, where Mark and I were standing. He reached the
designated spot and stood stoically, facing the others, who were
distinctly to one side. He seemed self-conscious about his
nakedness, although none of the other students were dressed.

Maybe Tyler was embarrassed about his anatomy--his penis not
particularly large for his age. He made up for that with his
looks.

Tyler trembled. You could hear a pin drop.

Of course, everyone knew this boy's caning would be more severe
because the teacher would be giving it.

I decided not to interrupt Mark to have him explain each detail
to me, but obviously there were traditions and rules coming into
play, of which I had no knowledge as an uninitiated supervisor.

"AND WHO WILL VOLUNTEER TO COMFORT TYLER ADAMSON BEFORE HIS
PUNISHMENT, AND HOLD HIM DURING THE PROCEDURE?"

About eight hands went up, and of the eight, Mark chose Dennis
Rex, a tall 16-year-old, a basketball player.

A little adolescent-style obligatory taunting could be heard from
the other students as Dennis made his way to the center. "Ooo,
yeah, suck his dick and play with his balls," seemed to be the
main theme.

Dennis blushed appropriately.

"DENNIS, STAND BESIDE TYLER, FOR NOW."

"THE REST OF YOU, FORM THE USUAL SEMI-CIRCLE AROUND TYLER AND
DENNIS."

I was baffled when Dennis dropped to his knees, but it soon
became clear what Mark had meant by 'comfort,' as Dennis began to
suck Tyler's cock energetically--apparently sharing my attraction
to Tyler.

"Stop when he's fully hard, Dennis," Mark instructed.

The red-faced Tyler trembled as Dennis licked and sucked his
rapidly growing penis.

The class murmured various things, the predominant one something
about sucking Tyler well, and making him come. These students
must have been accustomed to these sudden blow jobs being
performed in front of them, because, judging by their cocks, they
didn't seem especially aroused at the sight. Of course, fear of
their upcoming caning probably had something to do with that.

The two boys center stage were clearly embarrassed, if the color
of their faces was any gauge. I assumed that under other
circumstances, they would be happy to have sex with each other.

It was very arousing to see Dennis' cock became erect along with
Tyler's, during the fifty or so strokes of the slow sucking
session.

"I believe he's fully hard, sir," Dennis said, standing now,
blushing profusely after giving the blow job in front of the
others.

Mark invited me to join him in testing Tyler's erection. We gave
his nice-sized cock a good feel. Of course it was satisfactorily
hard, but the process succeeded in further mortifying the boy.

Tyler turned at Mark's signal, and bent forward, his butt toward
the audience of his classmates. The lad was bent over as far as
possible, with his head near the floor.

I watched Dennis get into his position whereby he would hold
Tyler Adamson during the caning. He sat on a short stool to the
side of the boy, his knee under Tyler's chest, a hand on his
back. Dennis reached under Tyler and held the boy's scrotum with
his other hand.

I could see the reason for this. With Tyler bent over so
sharply, his balls might come within the target area of the cane
--if Dennis were not holding the victim's balls out of the way.

Mark positioned himself with cane in hand.

"BOY--YOU ARE NOW GOING TO KNOW WHAT REAL PAIN IS."

The first stroke was barbarously vicious, hitting the lower third
of the buttocks with a gruesome-sounding splat.

The boy screeched in horror and pleaded for mercy, his head
snapping up and his back lifting a bit with the pain, despite
Dennis' restraining hand.

WHIPPPPPPP! came the second powerful blast of the cane, the pain
going deep, and stinging badly.

"Aaarrrrrghhhhhh!" Tyler screamed in agony, his face now dark
red--plainly visible as his head swung up sharply again.

WHHHHHHIIIPPPPPPPPPP! The third stroke resounded, more severe
than the other two.

"Yeeeeeeaaaaaagggggghhh! Owwwwwwwwww! Please, no!"

Tyler was sweating now, the shining drops of liquid on his face
adding to the image of the suffering boy.

I could not help noticing that most of Tyler's classmates became
erect watching Tyler getting caned. Several touched their organs
continuously. There's something especially arousing about a
group of standing boys with hard dicks, watching a classmate get
punished.

During the next three, more severe strokes, the force of the
blows produced ghastly-sounding sharp whipping sounds--the boy's
jolting body testimony to his anguish and the severity of each
stroke of the cane, as it landed with brutal authority on the
boy's shapely buttocks.

Tyler's screams became more blood-curdling, his body jerking more
wildly. Finally, the sobbing boy was released. Apparently he
knew to stand facing the others, with his hands behind his head.

"LOOK WHAT'S HAPPENED TO YOUR FELLOW-STUDENTS, TYLER," Mark said,
obviously referring to their erections.

"Y-yes, sir. Ah! Oh, God," acknowledging the teacher, his pain,
and further embarrassment over what was to come.

"YOU KNOW WHAT TO DO, TYLER. SERVICE THEM WELL, BOY. AND I PITY
YOUR BODY IF YOU BRING ANY OF THEM TO ORGASM--THREE DAYS IN THE
STOCKS WITH THE SPANKING MACHINE."

Trembling and clearly suffering, Tyler went to his knees.
Evidently he was required to suck the boys who had become hard as
they witnessed his punishment.

Mark explained that the students were not required to line up for
a blow job. Most of them did.

"Mark," I whispered, "what's this about a spanking machine?
Sounds medieval."

"It is a bit grotesque-sounding. An area is roped off, and
stocks are set up in the main hallway, the boy's feet anchored so
he must remain bent over, and an automatic paddler whacks him at
various intervals. Sometimes a rotating drum with straps is the
preferred instrument. Either way, it's humiliating."

I was speechless. My penis, on the other hand, was not so
reticent.

One by one, the erotic moans of each student Tyler serviced
filled the room.

"Ah! Oh, yeah! God, yes!" the first boy exclaimed as Tyler's
mouth did its job on his highly aroused erection. This lasted
about 30 seconds.

"PULL IT OUT, BOY--WE HAVE TO KEEP MOVING!"

This went on for quite some time--each recipient grinning while
his cock was sucked, each grimacing as the pleasure stopped all
too soon, and the lad was made to withdraw his organ from Tyler's
warm, energetic mouth.

"ALL RIGHT. THAT'S ENOUGH OF THAT." Apparently Tyler's oral
skills were much in demand. There were too many students lined
up wanting him to suck them, and Mark wanted to get to the next
event.

"Awwwrhhh!" the last boy said in frustration as the sucking
stopped suddenly. Apparently, that unlucky lad was right at the
edge of orgasm as his hips pulled away from his source of
pleasure-- his throbbing penis snapping up angrily as the tip of
it was freed from Tyler's grip.

"YOU'VE MADE HIM SUFFER, TYLER. HOW INCONSIDERATE. FINISH HIM
OFF AND SWALLOW, BOY!"

The class moaned in envy as they watched the happy lad bend and
heave as he shot his anxious load into Tyler's mouth. Poor Tyler
had trouble swallowing the boy's seed, and choked somewhat,
becoming quite red in the face, but finally managing to get it
all down without spillage.

"STAND AND WATCH, TYLER--HANDS BEHIND YOUR HEAD."

Tyler obeyed and licked his lips of any stray boy-fluids--
evidently oblivious to the little puddles of cum on his chest and
abdomen. There was a charming little glob of the stuff on the
boy's hair, just above his left ear.

Mark had the rest of the boys turn their backs to him, and bend
over as a group, effectively putting Mark in a semi-circle of
naked butts. I wondered what was going on with this, since they
were supposed to be in two groups--but I satisfied my curiosity
by thinking this was a sort of preparation before the students
caned each other.

Brent, Phillip, and Michael were now standing with me, out of
harm's way.

Mark paced around in the semi-circle of naked boys' buttocks that
now faced him.

"I SUPPOSE I SHOULD BE LENIENT WITH YOU," he said, stopping
behind one student and flinging the cane harshly at him.

WHHHIIIIIPPPPPPP! "Ahhhhrrrrrghhh!"

"BUT YOU DID, AFTER ALL, HAVE THE CHOICE TO DO THE RIGHT THING,"
he said, stopping behind another boy.

WWHIIPPPPPPPPPPP! "Yahhhhhhhhhgghnnn! OW! NO!"

And so it went on, for quite a few more boys. I assumed he'd
picked out the worst students, as not all the boys received this
treatment. Apparently, these strokes were not counted toward the
total of six that were to be received by each student.

The room filled with sounds of complaining boys, rubbing their
sore rear-ends, some bending to inspect the welts of others, some
attempting to twist to see their own.

"ALL RIGHT! TAKE YOUR GROUP POSITIONS. GROUP A, TAKE UP YOUR
CANES. GROUP B, BEND."

Except for the boys who had been the victims of the surprise cane
strokes, nearly the whole lot of them were hard--although Group B
would surely go soft soon, I thought.

Ethan was not included. He stood by, looking frightened,
presumably anticipating his punishment.

The group A students, canes in hand, stared at Mark--evidently
waiting for his instructions.

"RAISE YOUR CANES."

The A students held their canes as if they would propel their
hapless partners into the next room. The B students squinted in
mortal fear.

"ON THE COUNT OF THREE."

But Mark did not count out loud--he used his arm as a conductor
would, indicating the count with downward strokes of his hand.
This meant that the bending 'B' group would not know when the
cane would strike.

When Mark reached 'three,' I heard the ferocious cracks of seven
canes strike viciously at seven naked pairs of buttocks. The
recipients' monumental, combined scream was indescribable.

"WAAAAAAAAARGGHHHHHHRRAAAAGHHHHHHHHH!"

Then Mark walked up to the Group A students. Of course, the B
students could not see what was happening. Mark pointed, one by
one, to each of the cane-wielding boys, in random order. The
boys held back nothing in their efforts to smack the wicked cane
into the tender flesh of their unfortunate partners.

The resulting, individual screams in random order and
unpredictable rhythm were uniquely exciting.

"Ohhhhhhrrrrrrfffffffff!"

"Oooooowaaaagghhhhh!"

"OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!"

"Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!"

Of course the boys were inexperienced at caning, so some of the
screams were ghastly--the cane sometimes striking too low--the
back of the thigh, or the crease just above it--causing
excruciating pain to the poor victim.

Their welts appeared quickly, and slowly deepened in color. The
whole procedure, complete with screaming boys, was quite
arousing.

At the end, after both groups had satisfactorily caned each
other, the students continued to moan in pain, all trying to
stand stoically, rubbing their backsides. Some of the younger
boys shrieked in a sort of intriguing, anguished song--their
sweating, trembling bodies a charming icon of raw, primal
boyhood.

My charges--Brent, Phillip, and Michael--plus the naked and
tormented boy, Tyler, were desperately aroused at the sight.

I anticipated a delectable moment when the boys had to sit again
--and I wasn't disappointed.

"TAKE YOUR PLACES. ALL SIT."

The students walked slowly to their desks, and descended
hesitantly to their seats.

"Ahhhhhh!"

"Ooooooooooo!"

"OW! OW! Oh, God!"

"They're hurting, but they still look embarrassed," I said.

"Speaking of embarrassment," Mark said quietly, "wait till you
see this--a little something I've worked out, over the months."

I grinned in anticipation.

"ETHAN DREMMOND--STAND."

Earlier, when I had first laid eyes on Ethan, I could tell he was
a bit of a troublemaker--though with his good looks and
contagious smile, it was, at first glance, not difficult for me
and my penis to like the boy.

Ethan paused deliberately before standing, wise guy that he was,
looking around the room arrogantly, his small act of defiance
causing his fellow students to chuckle.

Mark was not amused.

Ethan, naked, and erect from the egg that was still in him, was a
well-endowed lad. The 17-year-old's penis bounced with a
remarkable pulsation, which encouraged his copious pre-cum to
flow and drip to the floor.

His egg was working only too well. He was a reasonably good-
looking boy, not model material, quite handsome enough. But he
looked acutely embarrassed. I hadn't expected that from a big
kid his age--to be humiliated at his nakedness. I supposed his
erection had something to do with it--prominent as it was.

"There. See him blushing?" Mark said.

Apparently it was permitted at these moments for the students to
twist and turn to get a good look at things--Ethan and his big
dick, in this case. A few hushed admiring remarks percolated
through the room, then quickly stopped.

"FOR PULLING THAT STUNT, MR. DREMMOND," Mark said calmly, "I HAVE
A SURPRISE FOR YOU BEFORE THE REAL PUNISHMENT BEGINS."

This was going to be good, I thought. The lad must have known
what Mark had in store for him.

Ethan blushed purple now. The boy looked defeated.

The remainder of the class--among more pertinent facial
expressions--looked confused, many of them holding their shorts,
wondering if they were supposed to put them back on.

"Watch this," Mark said, "I'm going to call up Kyle Roland--a
little fifteen-year-old. I don't know how many times I've had
them do this, but Ethan never stops hating it. It destroys him.
At least Ethan has his lines more or less memorized."

"Lines?"

"You'll see."

Mark gave a signal, and a small, thin, 15-year-old boy--thick
blond hair, about 5 foot 4, and 100 pounds--rose and came
forward. The poor kid blushed almost as badly as Ethan, and
seemed tense.

Kyle certainly was cute enough--not girlish, but the kind of
younger boy whose face is arrestingly nice to look at--high,
well-colored cheeks--a sensuous, innocent expression. The rest
of him looked pleasantly thin, though his cock was nice--Kyle's
deep-set blue eyes, permanent half-smile, and alluring, golden
skin tone made him quite attractive to me.

Looking over at Ethan, I could tell he did not share my
appreciation of Kyle.

"RELAX, KYLE," Mark said. Then he called Ethan to the front of
the room.

"ETHAN--YOU REMEMBER THIS FINE, STRONG, YOUNG MAN? KYLE ROLAND
IS HIS NAME." Of course, Kyle looked to be anything but a strong
young man--a waifish boy was more like it. He was cute--in a way
that would appeal to many 13 or 14-year-olds, I thought.

"Yes, sir," Ethan said, very fidgety now.

"ETHAN," Mark said, prompting him, "WHAT DO YOU THINK OF KYLE?"

At this, Ethan blushed profusely. That was odd--the question
seemed innocuous enough.

"Well s-sir," Ethan said, stumbling a bit, "I think Kyle is a,
um, . . . hot, sexy dude." Obviously this was one of the lines
Mark had mentioned.

Ethan's classmates groaned and snickered softly, lending an
ominous tone to the event, alluding to the wickedness of things
to come--and embarrassing Ethan to the point where he kept
glancing angrily at them.

"DO THAT AGAIN, DREMMOND, AND IT'LL BE A DOUBLE."

"Sorry, sir!"

I wondered what a double was.

Mark whispered in little Kyle's ear, and the boy replied 'no.'
Later, Mark explained to me that that he'd asked the boy if he
wanted his egg put back in for this exercise. The good-looking
15-year-old probably was too embarrassed to have his butt poked
with the egg-inserter, in front of the whole class.

"NICE BONE, DREMMOND," Mark said sarcastically to Ethan and his
abundantly large penis, "TOO BAD YOU WON'T GET TO USE IT FOR A
WHILE. YOU'RE GETTING YOUR WELL-WORN CHASTITY BELT ON--WHEN
WE'RE THROUGH WITH YOU."

The last phrase was a threat with grim overtones. No 17-year-old
boy wants to be deprived of access to his prized organ--even for
a few days.

"Aw, ffff--" Ethan started to say.

"GOOD THING YOU SUPPRESSED THAT, DREMMOND!"

I was becoming intoxicated with my own hormones.

"NOW CLASS, IN CASE YOU'VE FORGOTTEN," Mark said in his
exaggerated teacher's tone, "KYLE IS A VERY HORNY BOY."

This was greeted with more gleeful snickers from the other
students. The look of Kyle's erection confirmed the teacher's
statement.

"AND ETHAN ONLY PLAYS WITH THE BIG BOYS--HE *THINKS.* HE HAS NO
TIME--HE'S TOO MASCULINE AND GROWN UP--TO DO ANYTHING WITH NICE
YOUNG MEN LIKE KYLE. AND WE NEED TO CORRECT THAT."

The restless class expressed their eager approval, responding
with various schoolboy sounds. Brent was pleasantly amused.

"Oh, God . . ." Ethan said under his breath, hand going to his
face, blush unremitting.

"NOW ETHAN, YOU WANT TO LEARN TO BE A GOOD BOY, AND PLAY WITH
YOUNG MEN OF ALL AGES, AND HELP KYLE OUT, DON'T YOU?"

"Y-yes, sir, I'll help him, it will be my, um . . . pleasure,
sir," Ethan said--his obvious insincere tone and high degree of
shame evoking more than its share of laughter from the not-so-
innocent class.

"GOOD BOY! NOW SHOW KYLE HOW YOU CHERISH HIS BODY." This gave
Kyle a twitch, and his blush intensified, along with Ethan's.

Trembling and reluctant, Ethan knelt before the small, horny-
looking 15-year-old, who was doing his best not to touch his
hardon. Then Ethan made his requisite speech.

"Kyle, I love your body. You're sexy, Kyle, you turn me on. Let
me . . . take care of your cock," he added, his face as scarlet
as possible.

With the egg pumping Ethan full of Endorlone, it looked as if he
were very turned-on by Kyle.

"Well," Kyle said, "I don't know. Do you give a good blow job?"

The class laughed suddenly.

At this point, Mark handed Kyle a tiny pair of red briefs, which
he quickly put on, glad to be dressed, I supposed. They were
small for the boy, and clung tightly to his body.

This made no sense to me, since Ethan was supposed to suck Kyle.

"ETHAN," Mark said loudly, "I THINK YOU SHOULD TAKE THE STUDLY
YOUNG MAN'S UNDERWEAR OFF WITH YOUR TEETH."

"Sir, please!" Ethan said.

"DO IT, ETHAN," Mark commanded.

"Sir!" Ethan said, "anything but this!" He had become defiant.

I felt like volunteering for the job.

"WE'LL NEED TO CORRECT YOUR STUBBORNNESS BEFORE WE GO ON," Mark
announced in dark tones. "KYLE--JUST STAND BY."

"BY THE TIME WE GET TO YOUR REAL PUNISHMENT, YOU'LL BE BEGGING
FOR MERCY, BOY!" Mark said coldly to Ethan, then blindfolded him,
and put silencer plugs in his ears.

Mark called up Simon Kelms, a boy with very powerful arms, and
handed him the cat-o-nine-tails.

"SIMON--SHOW ETHAN--AND THE CLASS--WHAT HAPPENS TO STUBBORN
BOYS."

Ethan, unable to see or hear, would know nothing--until the
mighty cat struck his unprepared flesh.

Simon did not hesitate, and gave a merciless blow of the whip to
Ethan's unsuspecting back.

SHHHWWWWHHHHIPPPPPPPPPPP!

"Yeeearrrrghhhhh, oh God! Fuck! FUCK!" Ethan screamed. The
vicious-looking red stripes confirming the awesome pain the boy
experienced. "Aaaaaaaaaarrrghh! Owwwwwraaaaghhhhh!"

This was equivalent to a scene, and cursing was tolerated.

The poor lad danced and writhed in indescribable pain.

Mark removed Ethan's blindfold and earplugs.

"WE'RE NOT DONE YET, ETHAN," Mark said to the howling, jumping
lad. "I SEE AN EVEN YOUNGER BOY THAN KYLE HERE TODAY."

"Oh, God, sir!" Ethan shouted, the idea of younger boys clearly
not Ethan's cup of tea.

"WHAT'S YOUR NAME, LAD?" Mark pointed to Michael.

"Michael Lanikker, sir," he said with a mischievous grin--
oblivious to his very noticeable boner, which the shorts did
nothing to hide.

I knew Michael was a show-off, typical of many 13-year-olds, but
I wondered if he would become more shy as he neared 14--as many
boys tended to lose their showmanship at that age. I hoped there
would be a class for that.

"Nice to meet you, Michael. Hold on a moment."

Conferring with me, Mark asked if it was all right to do certain
things with Michael and Ethan. I consented, then whispered the
plan to Michael, who was enthusiastic.

"COME HERE, MICHAEL, AND LET THE CLASS GET A GOOD LOOK AT YOU."

Obeying, and remembering my instructions, Michael stood at the
front of the room, faced the class and took his shorts off,
revealing his shapely bottom and nice-looking erection, complete
with copious pre-cum, a side-effect of the potent stimulation his
egg provided.

"Whoa!" the class moaned in appreciation of Michael's self-
confidence and nicely-sized, wet erection.

"ETHAN," Mark commanded, "YOU KNOW WHAT TO DO. BEG HIM FOR HIS
PRE-CUM AND HIS DICK LIKE YOU'RE BEGGING FOR YOUR LIFE!"

Of course having to beg an even younger boy than Kyle was triply
mortifying to Ethan. By now, the poor lad's face had reached a
deep shade of red. He dropped to his knees about five feet from
Michael, trembling.

"P-please, Michael, let me have your pre-cum and let me suck your
. . . beautiful big cock. I need it so bad."

Michael's dick was big for his age, but he certainly did not have
a 'big cock,' in the sense that Ethan was articulating.

"Okay," Michael said eagerly, grinning impishly, causing a few
giggles from the class.

Ethan then crawled to Michael and licked off his fluids before
sliding his mouth gently over Michael's bone. Michael played it
up well, moaning appreciably--which was probably more real than
acting.

After a few seconds, Mark intervened, and stopped the blow job.

"CLASS," HE SAID, "DON'T YOU THINK MICHAEL IS TOO GOOD FOR ETHAN
TO SUCK OFF?"

"Yessssssss!" the class replied in their schoolboy, sing-song
way.

"YES," Mark said. "I THINK IT'S TIME TO HAVE ETHAN SERVICE THIS
BOY IN A MORE HUMBLING WAY." Mark explained that he would give
Ethan what was considered the lowliest task in boy sexual
encounters.

"Yeah," the class shouted, nearly in unison.

"YOU NEED MORE HUMILITY, ETHAN. ISN'T IT NICE THAT WE'RE GOING
TO HELP YOU GET IT? STAY ON YOUR KNEES, BOY, AND THANK ME AND
MICHAEL.

"Sir, thank you. Th-thank you, Michael. . . . Oh, God."

"YES, HIS BALLS WILL BE YOUR GOD FOR THE NEXT FEW MINUTES,
ETHAN."

Ethan was positioned sitting on the floor and leaning back--with
his head facing up on the seat of a chair. Michael was told to
face the class and straddle the chair, so Ethan could suck
Michael's balls.

"MICHAEL, HOW OLD ARE YOU?"

"Thirteen, sir."

Ethan grimaced distastefully--the young age of Michael again
deepening his embarrassment.

"WHILE ETHAN SUCKS YOUR NICE BIG BALLS, WOULD YOU BE WILLING TO
MASTURBATE FOR US, MICHAEL?"

"Oh, yeah!" Michael said, and he began to jerk off happily in
front of everyone.

The class laughed heartily at Michael's enthusiasm. Michael
beamed--he was in his glory.

"Bring out the cum-catcher, Simon."

Mark had Simon Kelms hold what looked to be a sheet of glass in
front of Michael's penis, so he could catch the boy's cum with
it. The sheet was actually a lightweight, clear plastic
material.

It was most arousing, watching 13-year-old Michael masturbate
while getting his balls sucked by Ethan. According to well-
established rules of sexual hierarchy, by being prevented from
pleasuring the boy's cock directly, and given just the task of
licking and sucking Michael's scrotum, Ethan was performing the
most demeaning of tasks.

"NOW MICHAEL," Mark said, "IF HE DOESN'T SUCK YOUR BALLS
PROPERLY, OR IF HE HURTS YOU, JUST STOP STROKING."

Little Michael, already breathless from his first few seconds of
jerking off, simply nodded. About 15 seconds later, Michael
stopped masturbating.

"UNSATISFACTORY, ETHAN!"

The boys in the class moaned ominously.

Mark turned to Kyle. "Four strokes on the front of Ethan's
thighs with the gray strap, Kyle."

"Yes, sir."

"ETHAN," Mark said, "WE'RE BEING VERY CONSIDERATE OF YOU BY
STRAPPING YOU IN THE FRONT. THAT MEANS YOU WON'T HAVE TO GET
UP."

The class roared with laughter.

"THIS SHOULD GO WELL FOR YOU, ETHAN--PROVIDED KYLE'S AIM IS GOOD.
YOU WOULDN'T WANT THE STING OF THE STRAP TO HIT YOUR NICE LITTLE
ERECTION." Of course, Ethan's member was anything but little.

Mark called up two 17-year-olds to the scene.

"HOLD HIM DOWN, BOYS!"

Ethan, staring at his cock, tried to say something, but could
only emit fear-laced, squeaking sounds. The two students holding
him looked down at him grimly.

"KYLE--USE ALL YOUR STRENGTH--DON'T HOLD BACK."

"No, PLEASE!" Ethan said.

"Y-yes, sir." Of course the boy probably had no knowledge of the
strap's ability to accelerate as it uncurled, striking its target
with stinging fury.

Kyle hurled the strap at the poor lad's legs with surprising
vigor. And Ethan screamed his agony at the four powerful blows--
jumping wildly with the ferocious pain, almost slipping out of
the grip of the two assistants. Fortunately for the poor boy,
none of the strokes hit his genitals.

Michael continued masturbating and was soon at the point of
climax.

"Arrrghhh! Oouurrff! Oh! OH!"

My cute, 13-year-old helper shot out an impressive load onto the
plastic sheet. The class applauded Michael, who blushed in
earnest.

Afterward, Simon and Ethan were positioned standing on the
teacher's desk--Ethan moaning and trembling with an mixture of
emotions.

Michael continued to moan, himself, the erotic looking boy
sweating profusely and attempting to catch his breath.

Of course, Simon had the transparent plastic sheet with Michael's
cum on it, and as he held it at just the right angle for the
class to see, Ethan was required to slowly lick it up.

The boys in the class were treated to an excellent view of the
underside of the clear sheet--of Ethan's tongue, which, according
to Mark's scheme, first played with Michael's semen--as one might
finger-paint with the tongue, which appeared as a dark red dot to
the fascinated class. Then Ethan had to lick and swallow many
times, cleaning the entire surface--and thanking Michael often
for his generous and delicious contribution.

"HAVE YOU LEARNED YOUR LESSON, ETHAN?"

"Yes, sir!" the hapless lad said, frantically trying to rub the
pain from his thighs. "OW!"

"AND WHAT IS THE LESSON?"

"Not to be stubborn, sir."

"NOW WE CAN CONTINUE YOUR ORIGINAL TASK!" Mark said as Ethan and
Simon get down from the desk.

Little Kyle Roland, looking quite studly in his skimpy red
briefs, maintained his erection the whole time--and it looked
larger than life, puffing out the thin material.

"ON YOUR KNEES, ETHAN. RIGHT UP AGAINST KYLE! YOU KNOW WHAT TO
SAY. AND GOD HELP YOU IF YOU BITE HIM!"

Ethan, blush renewed, had to perform the task of taking off the
boy's briefs with his teeth. Evidently, a little speech was to
precede that. His humiliation became more evident as the speech
proceeded.

"Kyle, you look so hot in your sexy red briefs. Let me show you
. . . how much I . . . oh fuck! . . . how much I . . . love your
hot muscles, and want your cock, Kyle," Ethan said, his lips
nearly pressed against Kyle's abdomen, then sliding down to the
site of his task.

He attempted to grasp the stubborn waistband of the boy's tight
garment delicately with his teeth.

The red-faced lad had trouble just getting hold of the fabric,
and could not pull the tight thing down in one motion. He had to
pull a small portion of the briefs down in the front, then move
to the back, grip with his teeth again, pull down there, and
repeat the process for each of Kyle's narrow hips; then start
again in the front.

Kyle, apparently ticklish, squirmed and giggled throughout.

Ethan's impatient sighs and deep blush betrayed his frustration.

Each step of the process elicited snorts, hoots, and laughter
from the class. "Ooooo! Ethan wants to suck the little boy!"

The wet spots on Kyle's briefs were a nice touch--a visible trail
indicating where Ethan's mouth had grasped the thin fabric. Of
course there was a wet spot in the *front* of Kyle's underwear as
well--from the pre-cum the kid was pouring out. And Ethan was
required to lick and suck that also, accompanied by genuine,
sensual moans from Kyle.

After a long struggle, he finally pulled the boy's briefs down
sufficiently to expose Kyle's erect penis, which surged anxiously
against Ethan's forehead at one point--causing a roar of laughter
from the class.

On Kyle, his dick looked all in proportion, but I imagined to
Ethan, with his nose at the boy's crotch, the stiff, 4-1/2 incher
looked small.

"ALL THE WAY, BOY!" Mark said, reminding Ethan to proceed further
with Kyle's underwear.

Ethan slid Kyle's briefs down to the little lad's feet with great
difficulty--holding them with his teeth while the boy stepped out
of the skimpy red garment.

It was arousing to see Ethan on his knees with his ass in the
air, and mouth to the floor so humbly, while Kyle took his time.

I stayed quite erect, looking at Kyle and the whole scene,
including Ethan, his chemically inflated cock, and fierce blush.

Kyle's alluring face, thin little body, slightly disheveled blond
hair--had me drooling in my pants. I knew all guys had different
tastes in males, but it was hard for me to understand why Ethan
didn't want to dive into the luscious kid.

"COMPLIMENT THE YOUNG MAN'S BIOLOGY--TELL HIM YOU WANT HIM," Mark
said, prompting Ethan.

"Kyle, I love your cock, I wanna . . . blow you so bad," Ethan
said, his mouth inches from Kyle's erection. The lad could
hardly get the words out--the hysterics of his classmates not
helping his mood.

Ethan took Kyle's bone into his mouth, sucking noisily--his
sweating, reddened face adding a unique charm to the act.

"Mmmmm!" Ethan moaned in mock enjoyment, sliding off Kyle. "How
was that?"

"Okay. I'll let you suck it," Kyle said sweetly, accompanied by
an enchanting grin. This was part of the plan, but the grin
seemed sincere.

The class hooted.

And poor Ethan had to blow the kid. I guess he deserved to be
humiliated for his defiance. But I wondered how bad his other
punishment would be. He'd already had some agonizing correction
--his back had felt the bite of the whip, and his legs had
endured the ghastly sting of the gray strap.

"He's little," Mark said quietly, referring to Kyle, but he can
come three or four times an hour. More than that in the first
hour."

"Damn!"

"Oh, Oh!" Kyle yelled, obviously getting close. The boy shot
some of his load in Ethan's mouth, then pulled out, and squirted
the rest of his cum on Ethan's face.

Kyle pumped out a nice strong load--his small but sexually
mature, 15-year-old body pumped out seven or eight thin, rapid-
fire streams shooting out two feet or so.

In my experience, most boys and men either dribbled out their
loads, or shot a few inches to a foot--so seeing a boy who could
fire his load any distance was always a treat. I thought of
Darren, who, according to his data sheet, could propel his young
seed across the room. Any male who could do that was one in a
thousand.

Ethan closed his eyes tightly, grimacing and recoiling as each
shot of Kyle's cum splashed audibly against his face.

Kyle's boyish wriggling nearly caused him to lose his footing at
the end.

"YOU CAN CUSS NOW, ETHAN," Mark said--a privilege normally
reserved for more serious scenes, "AND GO TO YOUR SPOT."

"Fuck," Ethan said very softly, going to the front-left corner of
the room.

By now, the other students were hysterical. This time, their
cocks had definitely responded to the intriguing scene. I had
bent down, to see. Many a boy's bone had its tip pressed upward
against his desk, or was receiving a slow, one-handed self-
massage.

"Ohhh, we know you love him, Ethan--don't try to hide it."
"Yeah, Ethan LIKES little boys!" was typical of their banter.

This was a throwback--taunts that persisted from another era--
because now, it was natural and desirable to love and lust over
other men or boys of different ages.

Kyle seemed a bit sensitive to being called a little boy.

Sucking Kyle was a good deterrent for Ethan's behavior, I
gathered, but apparently this went far beyond ordinary
embarrassment for Ethan.

At 15, Kyle nearly had the look of a younger lad, but was not
quite as young-looking as Michael.

I remembered that for some unfortunate, straight-minded
upperclassmen--those clinging to the outdated, homophobic
thoughts of a bygone era--paying much attention to a younger boy
in public was considered degrading at best. From the time I'd
gone through conversion, I never saw it that way. Cute young
guys had a special, fun-loving sexual appeal--minus the depth and
hunkiness of older boys or men.

"YOU'RE IN THE RIGHT CORNER, DREMMOND, BUT PLEASE DO FACE THE
CLASS."

I thought Ethan looked good with Kyle's cum on his face.

"Kyle's a cool boy. Don't be fooled by his small size. He isn't
feminine," Mark explained to me, "but everyone knows he's a
bottom--not the most experienced, but a good one--and very
willing."

That made it all the more embarrassing for Ethan, I thought--
sucking off a cute little willing bottom.

"OKAY," Mark said to the class, "LET'S HEAR IT FOR KYLE."

Kyle was a good sport, and received the applause gracefully. The
rest of the class expressed a desire to have their shorts on, but
Mark said no.

"EXCEPT FOR ME AND OUR VISITORS--PHIL WERTZ AND HIS BOYS--BRENT,
PHILLIP AND MICHAEL--EVERYONE WILL REMAIN NAKED!" Mark wasn't
shouting, but it amazed me how he could speak in bold italics.

"Good move, Mark," I said with a smile, not wanting Mark's
students to cover up again.

"I have another little reward for Sean, a bit later on."

"ALL RIGHT, DREMMOND, GET RID OF THE STUD'S CUM. DON'T WASTE IT.
AND GET OVER HERE."

I assumed Kyle was used to all this, but he grinned at being
called a stud.

Ethan came away from the corner. The embarrassed teen removed
Kyle's seed from his face with his fingers, and licked them
clean, feigning his love for the lad's delectable treat. He also
was made to lick the fluids off Kyle's penis.

Then, Ethan stood at attention in front of the class.

"ETHAN, WHAT DID I SAY YOUR PUNISHMENT WOULD BE?"

"A caning sir," Ethan said nervously, "eighteen strokes." The
lad winced as if in pain just from saying the words. "And jail
time, sir."

"I DON'T THINK THAT'S SUFFICIENT, MR. DREMMOND."

Mark called up Sean Ballinger, the student he rewarded in Brent's
training room, and Simon Kelms--an extremely handsome young man
of 17 who bore a striking resemblance to Brent.

Mark had Simon sit in the centrally-located chair.

"Simon's going to be my lap man," Mark said to me. "His thigh
bones are the longest I've ever seen. Ethan isn't expecting
anything like this."

"GET OVER HIS LAP, ETHAN."

The naked teen clumsily tried to place himself over Simon's lap.
There was a comical disagreement over where Ethan's cock should
go. Simon tried to push it down, putting it between his thighs.
Ethan kept trying to flip it up.

Soon Ethan was nicely positioned over Simon's lap--butt up in the
air, legs straight, toes and hands touching the floor--and his
dick between Simon's legs. The only thing missing, in my view,
were Ethan's shorts bunched up at his ankles.

Mark took a drilled maple paddle from the wall. It was one of
the more pain-producing paddles available. The holes reduce the
air resistance, making the thing accelerate painfully toward its
target. The mood turned ominous.

"THIS," Mark said, shoving the paddle under Ethan's face, "IS
GOING TO MAKE YOU HURT, BOY! MANY A BOY'S ASS HAD IT WHACKED
AGAINST HIM, AND SCREAMED IN PAIN. SMELL THEIR FLESH, ETHAN!
SMELL THE WOOD!"

Ethan quivered markedly, and did what he was told.

"THIS IS THE PADDLE THAT PUT MANY BOYS IN PAIN--AND WE'RE GOING
TO SET A NEW RECORD FOR PAIN TODAY--AND FOR SCREAMING! THIS
PADDLE, AND YOUR ASS, BOY!"

Mark had a way of over-dramatizing the event to strike fear in
Ethan's heart. "Oh--please, sir!"

"THAT'S IT, BOY. YOU'RE ASKING SO POLITELY FOR IT. VERY GOOD.
NOW KISS IT! KISS THE THING THAT'S GOING TO KISS YOUR SORRY
LITTLE BACKSIDE!"

Ethan could not have been more defeated and mortified. His
trembling, deep breathing, and dark red face betrayed his horror.
He kissed the paddle.

The hushed class took a collective anxious breath.

Mark handed Sean the menacing paddle.

"WARM HIM UP GOOD, SEAN."

Ethan gave a sigh of terrible dread, knowing that a very painful
procedure was to be carried out against his tender buttocks.

Sean, shivering in fear, himself, grasped the paddle and took his
position.

SMOP. A weak swing at best. Sean blushed.

"No," Mark said to Sean, "not like that--like THIS!" The teacher
took the paddle and demonstrated for Sean.

WWWWHAAACKKK! "Awwwwwww! OWWWWWWW!!" I expected to see steam
rise from Ethan's bottom.

Mark explained that he wanted Sean Ballinger to receive another
reward and have the honor of breaking-in Ethan's butt.

And Sean did it--his arm thrusting the dreaded ventilated paddle
into the quivering flesh with pitiless force.

WHHHHAAACKKKKKKK! "Yeeeeehwarrrrghhhhhh!"

CCRRAAACKKKKKKKKKKKK! "Awwwwwffffurrrrrgggghhhaaaahhhh!"

Those sounds comprised the gruesome, repeated pattern, until
Ethan's shuddering rear-end was well into the deeper shades of
crimson--the boy arousingly distressed, legs kicking wildly,
ghastly shouts echoing.

Simon's big lap was working out well as the perfect holder for
Ethan's body.

The behavior of the other students in itself was arousing--hands
to their mouths, most touching their erections continually as
Sean whacked the poor kid's butt. Sean must have delivered 20
massive, smacking blows before stopping.

Some of the students masturbated, and those with copious pre-cum
secretions made exhilarating squishing sounds as their hands
pumped their slickened, adolescent erections.

Even after the whacking had ceased, Ethan bounced and squirmed
miserably, convulsing in dreadful anguish, while shouting out his
incredible pain.

Mark seemed surprised at Sean's brutal blows. Perhaps Mark's
speech had over-enthused the boy.

"Holy shit!" I said.

"Wait till I cane him," Mark replied quietly, then spoke to Ethan
again.

"YOU'RE GOING TO GET IT FROM EVERY ONE OF THEM, BOY!"

"Oh, God--please, sir!"

"CLASS, LINE UP! GIVE IT TO HIM, GOOD--MAYBE NOT QUITE SO
ENERGETICALLY AS SEAN DID. THREE WHACKS EACH!"

The first happy-looking boy in line came forward and stared at
Ethan's hot-looking butt--the standing boy apparently oblivious
to Ethan's agony. I could not believe the poor lad was to
receive 14 more paddlings.

"ETHAN--AN EXTRA STROKE OF THE CANE, LATER, FOR EACH TIME YOU CRY
OUT!" Mark shouted, as the grinning student took hold of the
paddle, his penis thickening.

"Please, sir . . . " Ethan pleaded.

SSMMAACCKKK! "OW!"

"That's one extra," Mark said with a brazen smile

CRRAAACCCKKK! "YEEEEEOW!"

"Two extra--you're not doing too well, Ethan."

SSSMMMAAAACCCCKK!

And on it went. Each student took his seat as he handed the
paddle to the next boy.

Most of the students swinging the paddle also had swaying
erections, owing to the motion of their bodies as they whacked
the lad. This added erotic effect was not unnoticed by the
class. Many of the boys had obvious pre-cum during their gleeful
whacking of poor Ethan.

The paddle seemed bad enough. I could not imagine a boy taking a
caning on top of all the smacking and swatting Ethan had endured
thus far.

One of the 16-year-old students, apparently overcome at the
sight, jerked his cock a bit too enthusiastically, and shot his
load under his desk--presumably with no one else noticing but me
--the semen slowly dripping to the boy's legs, and eventually to
the floor.

I was not entirely surprised that Mark planned on administering
Ethan's caning, himself.

I was shocked that he asked me to be the co-punisher. And
punishing it would be, with me and Mark each in position to cane
one cheek of the hapless lad--the cheek farther away from us.
This meant that the *tip* of the cane would strike the lad in
addition to its surface--an excruciating experience at best.

I deferred to Mark for the first stroke. I saw his knuckles go
white as he gripped the thing, just before he swung mightily.

WHOOSH . . . SNAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPPP!

"Wraaaaaaaauughhhhhhhhhhh!" Ethan screamed, the tip of the cane
leaving an ugly welt which soon turned a dark red color.

Then I took a mighty swing at Ethan's butt.

WHOOOOSSHHHH . . . SSSNNNAAAAPPPPPPPP!

"AHHHHHHHHHHHRRRGHHHH! OH! AH! FUCK! FUCK!"

The caning continued--Ethan's screams escalating madly with the
constant swishing and cracking of the painful rod. The boy's
mouth opened widely for each of his ghastly vocalizations, his
spit flying out in angry globules, and his sweat taking off in
all directions as his head shot up with each stroke. Ethan's
face reddened even more deeply as his suffering intensified.

Ethan had received his first twelve strokes. We stopped. I
stood attentively at Mark's side.

"NOW, AS ANOTHER REWARD FOR SEAN BALLINGER, HE WILL GET TO
DELIVER THE LAST SIX STROKES OF THE CANE TO ETHAN. SEAN, COME
FORWARD AGAIN, PLEASE."

Sean blushed as he stood, and looked like he didn't want to do
this, perhaps thinking he'd punished poor Ethan enough. That was
a temporary expression, because Sean soon grinned, apparently
pleased with the task at hand.

Unfortunately, my communicator beeped, signaling the end of my
visit to this classroom session. I took the call out in the
hallway, trying to get the image of Ethan Dremmond out of my
mind--a pleasant one--the lad was almost six feet in height, and
a solid 170 pounds or so. I was glad his punishment was almost
over, but regretted I would miss watching Sean fuck the lad--the
final reward Mark had planned for his good student.

I knew Mark would soothe the boy with the relief lotion, and
likely give him a does of Bio-Rouse, an energy restorer.

I was told by the secretary that the planning session with Mr.
Miles would be held as soon as I could get to the Prep Center.

I knew I needed Mark's help with this project. Mark agreed, and
said he would call in a substitute teacher as soon as his
punishments were completed.

I told the secretary there would be a slight delay. I then
explained to Mark I would work up some ideas for boys that Brent
could suck off--doing my work in the office next to his
classroom.

I had decided to take Phillip and Michael back to Brent's
training room after I finished my planning--but to leave Brent in
the classroom. That would free me to talk openly with my two
young helpers, or anyone else regarding the ritual, without Brent
hearing anything not meant for his ears.

When the substitute teacher arrived, Mark came to me to let me
know. I left orders with the substitute to have Brent closely
guarded, and returned to his training room when class was
dismissed.

I was now free to work with Mark on the ritual. We had to pick
the students who were to receive Brent's first five blow jobs. I
wanted each of the boys to be selected carefully, especially
since we were about to meet with the academy's headmaster, Jeremy
Miles.

Mark and I discussed my ideas and several other possible
candidates as we took the long walk to the Prep Center.

"What are those small doors I keep seeing along the hall?" I
asked.

"Viewing booths--for supervisors and teachers only."

"Booths?"

"Little rooms, really--where you can see every live cam in the
complex."

"Yes--I was told everything was recorded. Interesting action?"

"Yes. There are lots of things to see. Sex-ed classes are fun,
but one or more of the younger-age dorms is usually active at
just about all times."

"Dorms? But this is still academic time."

"Yes--I agree," Mark said, concerned over the student absences
caused by such activity, "but scenes take precedence over
classes. We have special make-up programs for students who miss
work, so it's not a big problem."

"Dorms! I've been wanting to see them! It was next on my list
of things to do."

"Well--we can snoop into all 16 dorms, and with eleven cameras in
each dorm, all angle controllable, four of them position
controllable--we can see just about anything," Mark said, putting
his card key into the terminal, trying different dorms, and
coming up blank.

"Nothing? Oh, wait--what's that?"

"You *are* excited, Phil. That's, lets see . . . number two
fourteen-year-old dorm. Wow, we hit at just the right time!"

"Doesn't look like much," I said. "They're all lying on their
backs, not moving."

"Wait. Ah, there he is."

"Who?"

"The houseman. Short for dorm supervisor. I'll zoom in."

"Oh, the boys have chastity belts on . . . and it looks like the
houseman is taking them off. Are we about to see a sex free for
all?"

"No. Let me look at the data . . . the boys have had their
chastity belts on for 10 days."

"Wow--that should drive fourteen-year-olds crazy."

"It does, but we do that to them mostly when they have to punish
an older boy."

"It must be my hormones, Mark, but that made no sense."

"Okay. Sorry. Fourteen year old boys--they tend to be on the
cruel side, yes?"

"Yes."

"Now what do you think happens to that cruel streak when you slap
'em in chastity belts for 10 days and they can't play sexually--
much less come?"

"They go nuts? Get crueler?"

"Right! When an older boy needs to be mildly punished for
certain offenses, they'll send him to a dorm like this--usually
to a dorm full of hell-bent, freshly-chastised thirteen or
fourteen-year-olds."

"Damn!"

"According to the data, a seventeen year old student should walk
in soon--accompanied by guards, of course."

"What can they do to him?"

"You wouldn't believe. Let's see what happens."

"I think he's already there--I saw a shadow. Looked like a big
boy's."

"You're right. Oh, he's hot. Todd Farmsway. Horny kid!"

"The boys in the dorm look angry."

"They are. They suffered ten days with their dicks inaccessible
for the privilege of punishing this kid. The houseman will
monitor them."

"Damn, they have him suspended already."

"Looks like they changed their minds," Mark said, as I watched
the boys take the 17-year-old down.

"What's that they're tying him to?"

"It's like a caning table, but modified so it's good for sex."

"Damn! They're lubing up. Are they getting ready to--"

"Fuck him? Yes."

"Shit--they're all lined up behind the boy. Getting fucked
doesn't seem like punishment to me."

"It may not be to Todd--he likes the younger set. But it will
be. See what the houseman is doing?"

"Giving Todd an injection."

"Testosterone and libido boosters. No Endorlone."

"So?"

"Look at the kid in front of Todd."

"Oh fuck! They're going to cock-tease him."

"For starters. It'll drive him nuts to get the anal stimulation
of all those comfortable, mid-size dicks pumping his butt, while
the boy on his knees licks his cock and balls."

"Wow."

"They'll probably tease him like that for a few days."

"DAYS?"

"Sure. And flog him once in a while, between fuck sessions."

"Flog? They can do that?"

"Yes. Most times, limited to ten lashes during the day, ten at
night. The houseman has the final say and can modify that."

"What else will they do to the poor kid?"

"Tune in, sometime. You'll see."

"Shit--watching those fourteen-year-olds fuck him like rabbits--
I'm dripping!"

"So is Todd--for now. He'll be screaming for relief within the
hour."

"Damn, I'm horny!"

"Wish we had time for more, Phil--but we'd better get going to
see Miles. We have a ritual to plan."

--Steve (Please scroll down for a list of my stories)

stevestoryman@yahoo.com (text only)
Comments welcome. I'll reply to all substantial.

STEVE STORYMAN'S STORIES AT: www.nifty.org
(Approximate Age Ranges represent current and future characters)

NOW 6 STORIES. "HOT NIGHT WITH A NICE KID" IS THE NEWEST. (# 6)

1. hot-little-brother-series 11 CHAPTERS SO FAR
Nifty Incest/Athletics
A slim 18 y/o athlete wants his 16 y/o brother; caring;
some football & locker room fun; no long game-scenes.
Kevin & Josh. (Ages 15-22)

2. i-wanted-my-big-brother 6 CHAPTERS SO FAR
Nifty Incest
A hot 15 y/o admires and pursues his brother--a sexy,
17 y/o high-school quarterback; caring; no sports scenes.
Chad and Adam. (Ages 15-19)

3. hot-teen-brian 4 CHAPTERS SO FAR
Nifty Adult-Youth
A cute, smooth 17 y/o and some of his older friends
discover a liking for younger guys; hot fun; all
consensual;
Goes deep into Brian's thoughts.
Brian, Peter, Matt & friends.
(Ages 10-32; Most action: 13 to 19)

4. boys-joys-and-sorrows-at-sex-ed-school 5 CHAPTERS SO FAR
Nifty Adult-Youth
Teens trained for mutual sex; some spank, paddling, etc;
no cruelty; some orgasm-delay teasing; flogging;
individual and classroom/group punishment scenes;
all consensual; group and couple's sexual scenes.
(Ages 13-35; Most action: ages 13-20)

5. hot-freshman-kid 4 CHAPTERS SO FAR
Nifty High-School
A good-looking high school senior, 17, becomes fascinated
with a cute freshman, 14; story of discovery; tender;
caring; depicts several aspects of high-school life as it
relates to their friendship.
Mark and Kyle.

6. hot-night-with-a-nice-kid 1 CHAPTER - (More to come?)
Nifty
A good-looking 24-year-old college student
finds a hot guy at a local area college hangout--
a teen club for 18 and 19 year-olds.
Alan and Peter.

stevestoryman@yahoo.com (text only)

 
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