Father, I don't know if this is a sin or not. I have been helping a old friend - he's a friend who's old, I mean, and I'm afraid I hurt him...
Brian is a sweet old guy who lives by himself.
He'd been a high school teacher until the rough-and-tumble bullshit from the snot-nosed kids and the general incompetence from the new generation of teachers pushed him into academia. He became a librarian in the school of music, and he thrived. He lived much of his life amongst cardigan wearing, morning tea birthday treat delighted, shy and quiet people who loved music.
After he retired he decided he would learn more about music composition, and got a computer, got Sibelius, and then the usual happened. I got a call from my elderly neighbor who is also a member of U3A - University of the Third Age -
can you please be a dear and help out my friend - he's got this *computer* you see...
I called Brian up, and went to visit. There really wasn't too much wrong with the installation, it was more about the user. I offered to help him with some lessons and it all started innocently enough.
The first evening Brian did well, and remembered all of the usual start/stop, save, load, print kinds of commands.
When I returned a few evenings later, I was surprised to find Brian had laboriously written up in longhand all of his mistakes into a note book, and then offered me a wooden ruler.
I looked blankly at him.
"Brian? What's this about?"
"Please," he said, looking serious, "I discovered as a boy that I learn best with the application of the ruler. I had a music teacher - a Mr McLaud - who was very firm with me and I learned to respect his teaching."
He handed me the ruler, and held his hand out, eyes shut, quivering in anticipation.
I looked around me, and shaking my head in amazement, gave him a feeble slap.
His eyes popped wide and his mouth opened with a gasp.
"No! No! No! You have to do it properly," he insisted, "I have made 27 mistakes, you have to give me 27 whacks with the ruler!"
I was taken aback by this request, but he just stood there, humbly waiting. I could see nothing else for it but to begin. I took his wrist, and twisted it palm up.
"I am not McLaud, the open palm I think," I said, in my best strict teacher voice.
I looked at his face, eyes again pressed tightly closed. His lip flickered and he nodded slightly. I began to flail at his open palm. He never once tried to pull away, even though his breathing became ragged.
When I'd finished I could see a tear squeezed, sitting on the corner of his left eye.
He sat down with a puff, and rubbed his palms together. And it was then that I noticed he was not only sporting an erection, but the fabric on his sweatpants was showing an obvious dark spot.
"Thank you, Sir, it is the only way I'll learn."
I felt slightly embarrassed and said nothing. Brian made us a cup of tea, and I went home.
We progressed through the weeks, and it became something of a routine. I'd visit a couple of times a week, Brian would confess his transgressions, and I'd give him a sound slapping with the ruler. Every time I could see that he was aroused, and I was sure this was becoming more about the discipline than the learning. It was having an effect on me as well. I had become more deliberate in my strikes, I enjoyed watching his pain, and I couldn't wait to get home where I'd spend the next couple of hours jacking off.
I decided that on the next evening I'd lift the ante a little. Predictably, Brian had made a number of mistakes, and the ruler was going to be used.
"Both hands, if you please!"
Brian positively jumped at my order, and hastened to bring both hands, outstretched, side-by-side. I left him like this in silence, eyes shut as usual. I went back out to my car, and brought in the length of cord I'd picked up from the DollarSave shop.
I walked around Brian, now visibly shaking, and whispered in his ear, "Brian, you've been consistently slack with your learning. I've tried to help you with the ruler, but I'm afraid I can see that isn't enough."
I stood back a little, and watched him. Waiting. Silent but for our breathing. Sure enough, his cock was swelling. His hand were sagging under their own weight.
"Lift up your hands, Laddie!"
My roar made him jump. He stifled a gasp, and arched his back to lift his swaying hands.
"Too late!"
I thought I heard him swallow a sob.
"Not good enough!"
I stepped forward and wrapped the nylon cord around his wrists, and secured them with firm knots.
"Open! Open your mouth," I ordered.
After a moment's hesitation Brian did, and I shoved my handkerchief into his mouth. He still had his eyes shut, and was holding his hands out in front.
"Open your eyes."
He did so, and I was surprised to see him look so happy. I'd expected him to be outraged, but his obedience was well practiced.
"Is this what McLaud used to do?"
He nodded, and then shook his head. He looked at me pleadingly. His cock was tenting out the front of his sweatpants, the damp spot was there again.
"You've not learned well lately. I am changing the rules here today. Instead of a few whacks with the ruler, I am going to spank you. Do you understand me?"
I slapped the ruler against the palm of my hand for emphasis.
He nodded.
"Do you thing a good spanking would help you learn?"
He looked frightened, but nodded slightly.
"Get down over that stool then, don't keep me waiting!"
He looked quite ridiculous, his arse facing up for my attention. I swallowed, and felt shaky, I never believed he'd go with this at all.
The first swat was little more than a try out, to see how it felt, what his response would be. I fully expected he'd try to escape, but he didn't move. The first half dozen barely brought a response. It was almost as though he was absorbing the energy. It wasn't enough.
I shoved my thumbs on each side of his waist band, and hauled his sweat pants to his knees. He started to protest at the indignity, but I pushed him back down on the stool. He squirmed a little, but I held him down, and I felt him relax as he accepted the new state.
I stood in front of him, my legs apart just in front of his face.
"I haven't finished. That was rude. How can you be so rude?"
My cock was hard now, and I could see Brian's arse thrusting - he was loving this too.
I returned to his arse, and reaching down, ran a finger up and down his crack, pushing in, stretching his briefs even more . He moaned, and thrust with the touches.
"Keep still, Laddie!"
I could see the muscles twitching, running up and down his pale pink thighs.
"Spread your legs, Laddie!"
Brian shuffled his legs apart as best he could. I stroked the fabric of his briefs, stretched tight over his crack and he shivered. It was cold in the room, but I don't think this is what made the hair on his back and neck stand up.
"Och, do I have to do everything for you? Wider!"
He struggled again and I teased his arse. I could see from the side his cock was fully hard, so, with a snap I pulled his white briefs down to his knees.
He lost it. Pushing on his arms he lifted up, standing on his knees. I stepped back, put the flat sole of my boot against his back and pushed him with a jolt forwards. It winded him slightly, and he lay there snorting and choking for air, trying to protest through the gag.
I let him recover for a few moments, and then stood with one foot flat on his back between his shoulders. I rested there, letting him feel my weight.
"Listen to me. You've been bad, and you've been rude, and you know what's supposed to happen to people who do this. You're going to get what you've got coming. You want it. You need it."
I increased the weight on my foot for a few moments, watching him struggle for breath. He didn't look up, I would see his cheeks were flushed with shame.
"That's the truth, isn't it. You need it."
He lifted his head and slowly nodded.
"Indeed. Enough silliness. Time I did my job. There's an arse here that needs spanking, without delay."
I pushed down my foot more, then lifted it off with a flourish. Brian sighed, and his head sunk down, resigned.
I wrenched his sweat pants off and flung them over his back. When I got his briefs off I crowned him with them, blindfolding him. I pulled a dining chair over on to its back, and lashed his ankles to the sides. Perfect. I perched on the edge of the seat, his legs down the edges of the chair back, a view of a very spankable arse before me.
I sat back, and wrestled a boot off.
"We've finished with the computer training, it's time for your new training."
I lifted his head up, and shove the open top of my boot under Brian's nose. He squirmed and writhed as my gamey stench assaulted his senses. I rested my booted foot down between his shoulders and he settled down.
"That's right, just breathe in nice and calm, this is just what you need."
The top of the boot made a perfectly fitting mask over his nose and mouth, every breath filtered through the leather and sweat fragrance.
I felt slowly and deliberately along his crack, plucking out a hair or two when the mood took me. His spasms when I plucked a hair were just too much fun, but I needed to get on with Brian's spanking.
Each slap helped turn his pallid arse from pink into rosy red. I didn't count, I just slapped him until it felt just right. Brian was slumped down into the stool, breathing through my boot - it was beautiful. I sat back on the edge of the chair and surveyed my handiwork. I noticed Brian's cock was soft again, so I reached under and tied cord around his cock and balls. I teased his arse hole until he was as hard as previously, trussed up like a chicken.
"You've been good, Brian, I'm going to reward you with the ruler."
Brian groaned, his voice muffled by the boot.
I stroked his cock and balls, and soon he was thrusting into my hand. We developed a rhythm - stroke, thrust - and when his muscles were tensed, I'd flick a quick lash with the ruler. Brian squealed and squirmed, but he didn't stop. The lashes rained down on his poor arse, the rosy red giving way to a more fearful blotchy red.
I felt him stiffen, and then with a final thrust and a mighty stinging blow to his arse, cum pumped out of his cock and he collapsed on to the stool. I pushed my fingers against and then into his arse hole and he squeezed his cheeks against me as he pumped his balls dry.
I left him like this for what seemed like hours, until his breathing calmed down, and he relaxed. I eased my fingers out of his arse, reached down, and slipped the knots from around his ankles. He didn't move as I liberated his cock and balls, and merely swallowed when I pulled the handkerchief from his lips. He had a pressure mark pressed into his cheeks from the boot. I helped him to his feet, he swayed and winced as he moved
"Come on, I'll run you a bath, get the muscles moving again."
He tottered along behind me, still blindfolded, wrists still tied. He made no effort to escape or to speak, he just rested against the wall as the bath filled. I lifted his hands, and untied the ropes. He rubbed his wrists and flexed his fingers. I helped him take off his top, and get into the bath, wincing with him as he settled in.
I hastened back to the lounge, put the cord away, stood up the chair. It looked once again like a normal suburban room, no sign of the discipline session that'd taken place. I wiped Brian's cum off the stool and carpet, good as new.
I poured Brian a glass of wine and took it up to him. He was drowsing, relaxed. He took the wine and nodded thank you. We drank our wine in silence.
"Another wine?"
"Yes, please, but not here. Can you help me up, I fear I'm slightly inconvenienced."
Brian grunted as I helped him get up and I toweled him off.
"Brian?"
"Why are you wearing your underpants on your head? You look like an idiot."
"Because I..."
He started to laugh.
"Oh God, that was ... that was amazing," he said. "I can't believe you did this for me. With me. To me."
He laughed again, and pulled his white briefs off his head, flinging them into a corner.
"I'm sorry, Brian, I don't know what came over me. It's just that you seemed to enjoy the ruler on your hands, and I thought ... well, you know, you might like a little extra spice."
And yes, Brian did like the extra spice. He found it all amusing, albeit stinging. His computing skills improved, his music composition improved, and he was a happy old man.
A good spanking every couple of weeks or so was all it took to keep Brian in order, and he was like a new man with a sense of purpose. The funny thing was though, we never had sex. Sure, I'd had him cum in my hands numerous times, but we'd never allowed ourselves to go beyond that. It was almost as though we didn't know each other well enough for that kind of thing. The purity lay with me disciplining him. As a teacher, having sex with him was somehow inappropriate.
It's not that I wasn't turned on. My cock was aching when I got home, and I'd jerk off repeatedly. It just seemed ... it's hard to explain.
I helped him explore his willingness to become a disciple of pain, and we were both content to leave it at that. It was weird, kinky, but human as well - one guy with another older guy. Thinking about it just complicates things.
In time we found he enjoyed the suspense of being left, bound, and with my cold boots on his back. I'd leave them outside in the snow so they were bitter, and he'd never be able to feel their icy touch without a gagged scream.
I'd leave him while I went and did some grocery shopping for him, or just go to the pub for an hour or so. I'd never tell him, of course. Just clip him up, over the stool, and just leave the house.
Alone, in the creaking and clicking silence of the house.
I liked it best when I'd creep back into the house, and rain slaps down on his bare arse before he was even aware I was there. I'd know I was successful because he'd jump with fright, his nerves over-riding the rules. The rules are that he is not to move in any way that causes the boots to fall.
They do, of course, if he gets a big enough fright.
The first time he did it I'd just got home from getting the groceries. Some crazy bitch in a eurobland car had reversed into mine, and then just driven off. I saw it happen as I was just leaving the market. Couldn't see the number plate, couldn't get across the car park in time. I was furious. I decided there and then that Brian was going to get a treat tonight. I unloaded the groceries, and went back for wooden clothes pins, and some wooden spoons and spatulas.
Originally I'd planned on arriving like it was armageddon, but as I was driving home I changed my mind. I crept into the house, and I attacked like I was some ninja. Silent but ferocious. Brian jumped with fright and struggled around and fell off the stool. My boots went flying.
"How dare you?!!" I roared at him, slapping at his legs and arms.
Brian squealed for mercy through the gag, but I didn't let up. The anger of my damaged car, and the pleasure of causing Brian pain was a delicious combination. I rolled him over and slapped his arse until my hand tingled, and he was groaning.
I unclipped his legs, and dragged him to his feet. My attack had served its purpose. He was shaking and sobbing through the gag.
"Stand still," I ordered.
He did, his eyes tightly shut, his body shaking.
I ripped open the bag of clothes pins and pulled one out. I pinched his nipple and snapped the pin on. The pain was immediate, and Brian looked at me and the bag with dismay.
He shook his head.
I grabbed him by the jaw and attached a pin to his earlobe.
He folded over trying to escape the pain. The sight of his upturned arse was too tempting, and I slapped him repeatedly, and he felt to the floor. I pulled a dining chair out.
"Get over the chair!"
Brian pulled himself together and did what he was told, obligingly spreading his legs so I could attach pins to the base of his balls. I took the opportunity to attach a cord around his balls and cock, good and tight. His cock was dribbling precum, and I cramped that off with a pin. I attached a pin to the bare nipple and stood back to admire the sight.
Brian was past screaming and any writhing just stretched his tortured skin more. He lay there, across the chair, panting and trying not to move, waiting for the spanking.
The sound of a wooden spoon on bare arse flesh is one of nature's great gifts.
Brian lurched, electrified.
"This is not a arse warming with my hand, today. This is not some feeble ruler either."
I give him another welt.
"This is the finest Swedish beech that Waitrose can supply."
Thwack!
"And they're cheaper by the dozen."
Brian moaned in anticipation, and I laid into him. It was very different to the ruler. The weight, the cupping noise, the marks.
I let Brian luxuriate in the glow of 14 good strokes. I could hear him sobbing and I could see his shoulders heaving.
I pulled the gag out of his mouth and he gasped out his sobs freely.
"Spread your legs properly or I'll do it again."
He winced as he obeyed, and again as I pressed my finger into his arse hole. I stroked his prostate and tried to move as the touches aroused him. I slowly pulled a pin off the skin around his balls. He yelped and he squeezed his arse around my finger.
"Does this hurt?"
He nodded and whimpered.
"It's the only way they're coming off. Make a choice. Now!"
He sobbed again and nodded.
I shoved two fingers deeply into his arse hole and he groaned aloud.
"There. That's better isn't it?"
He was too slow in replying, so I slapped his arse a couple of strikes to remind him.
"Yes," he said, "Yes, that's better."
"That's very agreeable of you."
I slowly pulled another pin off. Brian yelped a little and squirmed against my skewering fingers. I slowly cleared the pins around his balls, leaving just the one pin on the tip of his cock. It was holding back the strain beautifully, Brian's cock was as hard as I've ever seen it.
I began to move my fingers in and out of his arse, and he began to thrust against me, wanting them more and more. I paused for a moment and he kept up the motion. I stopped him by squeezing my free hand on his neck.
"We're changing, Brian, it's time for bed," I whispered.
I felt him stiffen as the words sunk in, and then relax. He said nothing.
"I want you to get up, and we're going upstairs."
He sniffed, and he slid backwards. I kept my fingers firmly up his arse, and helped him to his feet. He took a step gingerly and I pushed him forward with my fingers. Each step dragged at the pins on his nipples and I pinched his arse and tits.
Going up the stairs must've been a nightmare, but he managed. I unclipped his hands, and snapped off the pin on his ear as we entered the bedroom, and pushed him forward free of the invading fingers.
"On your back! Shut your eyes!"
I quickly stripped, and got on the bed with his head between my knees, my balls resting on his forehead. My cock was throbbing, I could feel his anxious breaths blowing on the underside of my shaft. I began tugging and twisting on the pins on his nipples, flicking them so they swung back and forth.
"Oh dear god, that ... "
I pressed my cock against his cheek, and he fell silent with a gasp.
I resumed torturing his nipples until he was writhing, moaning with protest. I stroked my cock against his cheek, feeling the anguished puffs of air from his nose. I wiped my precum across his lips and licked his lips.
"Oh my god please, please..."
I reached down and gently opened the pin on his cock. As I expected, it was so numb for a moment he didn't notice. I was about to cum, and so I teased the nipple pins mercilessly. His movements stroked my cock and I knew he could smell my heat.
Suddenly he felt the blood rush in his cock, and with his nipples screaming in pain, he began to beg again. His movements pushed me over the edge, and my cum pumped out and into his open mouth. I pulled the pins free and he began to cry, his body rocking from head to toe.
"Cum for me, Brian. Do it now!"
He immediately grabbed his cock and in a very few strokes, had his creamy white cum bursting into the air. He shook as though he'd received electric shocks, and choked back his tears. He gasped, and then was still, breathing heavily. I could see his pulse throbbing on his temple.
I reached down and smoothed the dew of sweat off his brow.
