Fred had been caught entering Mr. Schumer’s library without permission. The boy’s jeans and briefs would soon be coming – there would be more pleasure than pain.
When I was 18 my parents went off on holidays during the school year leaving me at home. Rather than being left alone, I accepted the invitation to stay with one of my father’s colleagues, Mr. Schumer. I lived there in my own room, went to school and was on my own nearly most of the rest the day as Mr. Schumer did not usually return home before 8 p.m. He had an older female housekeeper who cooked and cleaned and always left at 3 p.m.
One day after she had left, I walked around the rather spacious home and ventured into the library I had noticed a few days earlier. I had always loved books and so took a much closer look. There were classics like Shakespeare and also “The Catcher in the Rye” by Salinger – a book that I had already read several times. I could not resist the urge to turn some pages it even though I had the foreboding sense that I should not have even entered Mr. Schumer’s library without his permission.
Later that evening Mr. Schumer called me – something he had never done before – making me quite nervous. Sitting in his living room armchair he held a book in his hand. My heart skipped a beat as I read the title, “The Catcher in the Rye”.
Looking directly at me, as I stood right before him, he said in a grave voice that matched his expression, “Fred, did you enter my library this afternoon?”
I lowered my head and answered, “Yes, sir, I did. I am sorry.”
“Why did you not obtain my permission before walking into my library and handling the books? Had you simply asked, I would have lent you this book.”
“I don’t know, sir,” I said, “I should not have done that.”
I wondered how he knew that I had been in his library but I did not dare ask.
“Well”, said Mr. Schumer, “I have to punish you as you may well know.”
I nodded but had no idea what he meant exactly.
“After being punished you may keep this book for a few days, Fred.”
“Thank you, sir”, I mumbled faintly.
Mr. Schumer laid the book on the small table next to his armchair and said, “Now come here, Fred, and lay across my lap!”
I was astonished but did not dare to refuse. “Are you are going to spank me, sir?” I asked slowly and incredulously.
“Of course, Fred. Did your parents not spank you?”
“No, sir,” I replied, “they have never spanked me.”
“So, this will be your very first time,” he said. Already across his knees, he started slapping my butt with his hand.
It didn’t hurt but felt strange especially as Mr. Schumer did not appear to be angry. At the same time I had a sense of being humiliated but not in a bad way. I was puzzled.
“Well, boy,” Mr. Schumer said after about 30 mild strokes with noticeable excitement in his voice. “Boy, Fred, I have to punish you harder. For this purpose your jeans have to come down. Do it now!”
I felt more humiliated now but did not dare to refuse. I untightened my belt and tried to pull my jeans down while still lying across his lap.
“Good boy,” came the encouraging reply, “let me help you.”
With my jeans now far down, I felt his fingers under the elastic of my briefs – and down they came as well with my bare butt now fully exposed to him. Taking in the sight, he began to fondle my bottom cheeks in a caressing manner.
“Nice butt you got boy, Fred,” he said in a low voice that carried his pleasure. I must admit it felt good to hear that.
Slowly he started to spank my bare bottom. The sound and feel of his hand striking my naked flesh aroused me immediately. I felt my penis becoming stiff.
As I was lying across Mr. Schumer’s lap, he noticed what was happening. His breathing grew in intensity as he delivered about 20 not really hard strokes and said, “Spread those thighs for me, boy,” and I obeyed.
Spanked to Orgasm
At once his other hand gripped of my balls while he continued the spanking. My penis grew harder and harder with every slap.
“Oh, boy,” Mr. Schumer groaned as his hand encircle the hard shaft of my penis. “Wonderful, wonderful,” he moaned as he squeezed what he held in his hand.
I was moaning now too as Mr. Schumer started to jack off my hard-on: It was only a matter of seconds until I shot my young load across his knees and down onto the floor.
From that day on things changed as I had a much different but very pleasant stay at Mr. Schumer’s home until the day my parents returned.