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mike_redbotham
26-08-2009, 02:20 PM
Sports Shop Saga – Chapter 1a: In the Beginning (Ian)
by Mike Redbotham
 
 
Copyright on this story text belongs at all times to the original author only, whether stated explicitly in the text or not.
 
INTRODUCTION
Whilst corporal punishment is a major ingredient in this story, it is much more than a ‘spank fest’. It is a love story.
Most stories are told either in the third person or by one of the main protagonists. This story is unusual in that it is told from the point of view of both the major characters.

Hi, my name is Ian and I'm the proprietor of a sports shop, which I inherited from my father. Mother died a few years before Dad and, having no brothers or sisters, the business is all mine. I have a couple nearing retirement age, who I also inherited from Dad, working for me. They like their Saturdays off so I have two lads who work Saturdays. Jason, who is 20, works a couple of days in the week also, but Luke, 18, is still at school and just works Saturdays.
I like to employ people who are keen on sports and Luke swims for his school whilst Jason is a footballer
After Luke had been working for me for a couple of months, I began to notice that the money in the till didn’t quite match up with the till readings. Pinning it down to a specific day, it was obvious that this was happening on Saturdays only. My office has a one-way window onto the shop floor so I began watching more carefully and, sure enough, it wasn’t long before I saw Luke slip his hand into the till when he thought no-one was looking.
I didn’t want to cause a scene when there might be customers in the shop, so I asked him to stay behind to help me with some stock after closing time.
After we had locked up the shop and Jason had gone home, I told Luke to come into the office.
I didn’t beat about the bush. "Right, young man. Hand it over!" I demanded.
"Wwwhat?" stammered Luke.
"The money you have stolen out of my till!"
Luke’s smooth fair cheeks immediately turned bright red and tears welled in his clear blue eyes. He was as guilty as hell and couldn’t possibly deny it. He fumbled in his jeans pocket and pulled out a crumpled fiver, handing it over with a shaking hand.
"I’m so sorry, Sir", he sobbed. It was the first time he had ever called me "Sir". "It won’t happen again."
"Too damned right, it won’t!" I shouted, "I cannot stand thieves and I will not have one in my shop. You’re fired and I will have to consider if that is enough punishment."
"Wwwhat do you mean?"
"I have to consider whether to ring your headmaster, your mother or the Police." I replied.
"Oh, please, no. It would kill my mother, I’d lose my place on the swimming team and I don’t want a criminal record. I’ll have a job explaining why I’d lost my job anyway. Oh, please give me another chance, Sir."
The kid was obviously terrified and genuinely sorry for what he had done. But I now had him exactly where I wanted him - at my mercy.
"You should have thought of all that before you decided to become a thief. I must admit that you are a good worker and great with the customers but there are plenty more kids who would die for your job", I mused.
"And I don’t want all the hassle of going to the Police to make a statement. Then have to go to all the bother of interviewing and training someone else. The only option is for me to punish you myself, but I promise you it will not be an easy option."
"Oh, anything, Sir. I’ll work without pay or do anything you want me to. Just, please give me another chance."
"Wait". I told him while I looked at some paperwork, letting him sweat, standing there looking thoroughly miserable. From time to time I glanced up at the handsome young man standing in front of my desk.
He had a typical swimmer’s body, wide, square shoulders and a slim waist with long legs. His long blond hair topped a delicately featured face with a cute turned-up nose and a firm jaw-line. The Cupid’s bow, pink lips were drawn down in his misery, but in happier times they framed his even, white teeth when his face was lit up with a gorgeous smile.
He reminded me of that guy from the CK ad. I realised how much I would miss him if he did, indeed, leave.
Eventually, I said, "OK, boy. What's it to be? Will you accept my punishment or do I call the police?"
"Can I keep my job if you punish me? Pleeeease."
"I will think about it - do you accept my punishment whatever it is?"
"Yes, Sir"
I went round the desk and sat on a hard chair. "Come here".
Luke looked at me quizzically but obeyed.
"Drop your jeans!"
"But……"
"Do it..... or I call the Police."
Slowly, with trembling fingers, he pulled down his zip and lowered his jeans over his snake-like hips, revealing long, firm, tanned thighs which had very fine, fair hair. He let them fall past his lightly muscled calves to his white sock-clad ankles.
"Over my knee!"
He looked at me wonderingly, with an open mouth, but obeyed without question, positioning himself over my thighs, butt in the air, supporting himself with his hands on the floor.
I pushed his white T-shirt up his back, exposing a nest of tiny fair hairs in the small of his back. Roughly, I grabbed the waistband of his white CKs and yanked them down to his knees where they would help to restrain him. At last his bum was all mine. For a second or two I gazed in admiration of those beautiful, firm, round, smooth cheeks, pure white framed by the golden thighs and waist. They would not stay white for long!
"By my reckoning, you have stolen £25 from me. You will therefore have 25 of the best!" I told him, "This is your last chance to change your mind. Do you want to?" (Desperately hoping he wouldn’t.)
"No, sir. I deserve it, sir", he whispered.
With my left hand firmly on the young man’s waist, I raised my right hand and brought it down with a resounding crack across the middle of his arse. Luke let out an involuntary gasp and clenched his buttocks tightly. My second smack followed quickly on the same spot. Again and again I spanked his naughty bottom, left cheek, right cheek, the top of each buttock, and angled to where those firm buns rose proudly from the backs of his thighs. He started to squirm and kick his legs as his bottom turned pink and then bright red as my hand rained down on him from all angles. With each smack he was thrusting his pelvis into my thighs.
To give him his due, he didn't cry out at all, taking his punishment like a man.
"Keep still!" I ordered as I struck the backs his thighs as well.
I gradually realised that there was something pushing into the inside of my left thigh.
The little bugger was getting a hard-on!!.
He had five strokes to go and his bum was bright red by now. So I eased up a little on the spanks, allowing my hand to rest on the burning flesh, caressing his cheeks and allowing my fingers to stray into the hairless crack between them.
Luke started moaning and his cock was growing ever harder against my thigh. With one last smack, as hard as I could, his immediate punishment was finished and I told him to get up.
I couldn't help smiling of the rather comical sight of him struggling to get up and hide his cock from me at the same time. His short T-shirt didn't help him cover his embarrassment.
"Take off your T-shirt" I ordered.
In doing so, of course, he had to let go of his cock, showing me his full glory.
His delicious, perfectly proportioned cock was standing to attention above a large pair of balls in a full sack. His surprisingly large, pink nipples were standing to attention too as he peeled his T-shirt up over his wide, square shoulders.
"It looks like you enjoyed that!" I sneered. "Let's see if you enjoy this too" as I grabbed his arm and roughly pushed him over the desk and kicked his legs wide apart.
Hot red butt in the air, pretty pink rosebud of his puckered anus winking at me, he was the perfect target. I knew I was taking a huge risk but things had gone too far and I simply had to have him. My own cock was practically bursting out of my jeans and was hot and moist with my pre-cum.
Holding him down with one hand, I undid my belt and jeans with the other. I let my jeans and boxers fall, helping them over my erection, which shot up. My cock was already well lubed with my pre-cum juices as I guided it to that virgin portal.
A gentle push and Luke's boy-cunt opened easily to accept my iron-hard rod.
He let out a low groan/gasp, whether of pain or ecstasy I couldn't tell. Mine was certainly ecstasy; I had longed for this cute boy.
Once in, his sphincter snapped tightly around it and I started to fuck him as hard as I could, grabbing his slim hips. As I pumped into his hot innards my groin slapped against the burning flesh of his well-beaten bottom. I reached round with one hand to find his cock, which to my joy was still rock hard. My other hand wandered up his satin-smooth tummy up to those deep, well-developed pecs. I found a nipple and viciously tweaked it as I wanked his cock.
I felt Luke's taut young body tense as he clamped his anus on my fuck-tool and I pumped my love juice into him as he shot his own load across my desk, ruining my blotter!!
Regretfully, I pulled my cock out and gave him one last, hard slap across his arse.
"Get dressed, young man, and get out," I told him. "I'll see you next Saturday and if you ever steal from me again you know what you can expect!"
 

Sports Shop Saga – Chapter 1b: In the Beginning (Luke)
by Mike Redbotham
Hi, my name is Luke and - I guess - I’m a thief!
You see, I work in this sports shop on a Saturday for a bit of extra dosh. I live with just my Mum after Dad ran off with a bird young enough to be my sister. Things are very tight, money-wise, so I can’t expect Mum to give me things that are really vital to a teenager - mobile ‘phone, i-pods, designer trainers and the like.
I really love the job and my boss, Ian, is a great guy. He’s only in his late 20’s and a strong well-built rugby player. He's got dark hair, but with unusually bright blue, twinkling eyes and ruggedly good looks.
He’s really lucky to have his own business so young and the shop is always busy so he must be making a packet.
The other guy who works Saturdays, Jason, is a bit cocky and arrogant but we get on OK. He’s a couple of years older than me.
The pay is not bad for just a Saturday but I desperately want to get myself a laptop and I’m frantically saving up. Anyway, as Ian seems to be doing so well, I figured he wouldn’t miss the odd fiver out of the till. How wrong I was!!
I’d nicked about £20 and it didn’t seem as if anyone had noticed. Then, one Saturday, my whole life changed!
Ian asked me to stay behind after we had closed to help him with some stock. I was pleased, we always had a good laugh when there was just the two of us without Jason being around and the overtime would be welcome. I never guessed that the payoff wouldn’t be in money.
When Jason had gone Ian asked me to come into his office. "Strange", I thought,
"The stock isn’t in there."
Ian sat behind his desk leaving me standing in front of him, waiting to hear what he wanted me to do. Then the bombshell struck - he knew I had been nicking from him.
I felt my face burning and tears welling up in my eyes. I knew I looked so guilty I couldn’t deny it. I fished out the fiver I’d pinched and handed it over when he demanded it. I felt sick to the pit of my stomach, what the hell was he going to do? I was expecting the sack but thought I’d faint when he started talking about telling Mum, my headmaster—even the Police. Was £20 really worth all this? My little world was collapsing and all I could do was throw myself on his mercy and beg for forgiveness.
He told me to wait while he looked over some papers. I had never felt so miserable in my whole life - not even when Dad left when I was 16. I liked Ian so much that I was genuinely sorry that I had betrayed him - I hadn’t looked at it like that before. As I stood there wondering what was going to happen to me, I began to wonder what I would miss most about my job and, to my surprise, realised that it would be Ian - not the money.
After what seemed like a lifetime, he asked if I would accept his punishment or would he call the Police. What choice did I have? I had no idea how he would punish me. I guessed working with out pay for a while. I couldn't think what else.
I couldn't work it out when he went over to a chair and called me over. When he told me to drop my jeans the penny suddenly dropped. He was going to give me a thrashing!!!.
Well, I guess I deserved it and at least it would be over quickly and maybe he wouldn’t take things any further. I hadn’t had a good hiding since I was 15, not long before Dad left. Strangely, it was for the same reason – I obviously hadn’t learnt my lesson. Mum had caught me nicking some money from her purse and phoned Dad at work. When he got home Dad ordered me up to my room and to strip naked. I did as I was told and nervously waited for Dad to follow me up. He made me wait for about half an hour before coming to my room.
‘Bend over the end of the bed’ he ordered as he unthreaded his wide belt from his trousers.
With no further ado he laid it across my poor bum six times, turned on his heel and stalked out of the room, leaving me writhing in agony and sobbing into my bedclothes. A couple of minutes later, Mum came into the room and started to smooth soothing cold cream onto my throbbing buttocks. To my horror and embarrassment, they soon weren’t the only things that were throbbing – my cock was too, and growing larger. Luckily, by staying on my tummy, I was able to hide it from Mum. But as soon as she had left it only took a couple of strokes before I shot the biggest load of my young life. All of this flashed across my mind as I fumbled with my jeans, like a drowning man seeing his life flash before him, I guess.
My thoughts were in turmoil as Ian told me to get across his knee. I had no option but to do as I was told and laid myself across his lap. I could feel his strong thighs, through the rough denim of his jeans, against the pit of my stomach and my own naked upper thighs. I had never been so close and intimate with a man in my life. It was strange, I felt scared, yet somehow excited. At least I still had my pants on to retain some dignity.
Whoa!! My mistake!
My pants were suddenly dragged down to my knees. I was going to get a bare-arsed spanking!
My cock and balls were now dangling between Ian's thighs.
Ian told me I was going to get 25 strokes. 25!! Could I take them?
Ian gave me an opt-out but the die was cast - I simply had to grin and bear it (and bare it!). I was determined to take the punishment I knew I deserved.
I felt Ian's firm hand on my waist then CRACK!
An almighty slap landed on my bare bum.
I couldn't help letting out a gasp. How could I take another 20 odd of these?
CRACK! Another on the same spot.
Suddenly, slaps were raining down all over my exposed buttocks, the sting and pain becoming unbearable as I struggled to avoid the blows. But Ian held me firmly and, kick and squirm as I might, continued to paste my arse.
He told me to keep still as he slapped the backs of my thighs, which stung even more.
To my utter horror, I suddenly realised I was getting a hard-on. My prick was growing and pressing against Ian's thigh. He must have felt it.
Then things changed. Was it my imagination or were the slaps getting easier?
Ian's hard hands were lingering on my bum cheeks and I could feel his fingers probing between them, towards my bum hole.
This didn't help - my cock was getting ever harder and I couldn't help moaning.
What the hell was happening? I couldn't let Ian see I was getting turned on.
What would he think of me?
Then it was all over - or so I thought - and he told me to get up.
Well, I don't suppose you have ever tried to get up off someone's lap with your jeans round your ankles, your pants round your knees and trying to hide your cock at the same time! I tell you - it can't be done!
I sort of rolled off his knees, onto the floor and eventually stood up, jeans and pants now around my ankles, covering my erection.
But, obviously, he had seen it.
Then he told me to take my T-shirt off. I couldn't do that and cover my cock.
'What the hell', I thought, 'he's seen it anyway'.
Then he pushed me over the desk and spread my legs, holding me down. I could hear him undoing his belt but didn't dare look.
'Shit! He's going to belt me now. It was bad enough when Dad did it - and then my bum wasn't even sore to start with.'
But, believe it or not, my hard-on would not go away, rubbing against the desk.
Nothing, but NOTHING, could have prepared me for what came next!!
Something hot and moist was pressing against my bum hole!
There was a moment of the most exquisite pain and then this thing burst into me!
"Ahhhh!" I WAS BEING FUCKED!!!
But it felt sooooo good!
I felt full. I felt complete, whole.
This gorgeous, big, strong man was in me - he wanted me!
He grabbed my hips and started pumping deep into me. His hot, strong hands on my bare flesh, his groins slapping against my hot, tender bum, I was in seventh heaven. I had never felt anything this glorious in my entire eighteen years.
Ian started caressing my tummy and grabbed my rock hard cock, all the time
pumping deep into my very being.
Whilst still holding and wanking my cock with one hand the other roamed up over my chest until he found my left tit.
He pinched it - hard - and an electric shock shot from tit to arse to balls and I exploded shooting my load all across his desk, just as I felt my innards being flooded with hot liquid.
All too soon it was all over and Ian slapped my bum again and told me to get out.
But, joy of joys, he said he’d see me the next Saturday.

To be continued....................

 
NB MY STORIES ARE FANTASIES AND IN FANTASIES NO-ONE CATCHES ANYTHING NASTY (UNLESS THE AUTHOR SO DECREES). SO MY CHARACTERS DO NOT USE CONDOMS - THEY GET IN THE WAY OF AN EROTIC STORY. HOWEVER, REAL LIFE IS NOT A FANTASY, AND PEOPLE DO CATCH NASTY THINGS SO ALWAYS PRACTICE SAFER SEX!

mike_redbotham
01-09-2009, 10:45 AM
Sports Shop Saga – Chapter 2: Where Do I Go From Here? (Luke)
by Mike Redbotham
(Read Chapter 1 In the Beginning to see how it all started for Luke)
Copyright on this story text belongs at all times to the original author only, whether stated explicitly in the text or not.
 
 
I walked home in a daze, my arse stinging, my cock head so sensitive, and my head in a whirl. I couldn't understand what had happened to me. More to the point, I couldn't grab what my response had been. OK, I knew I deserved the thrashing but it hadn't been the first time I'd had one.
But what followed! I had been fucked - and I enjoyed it!
Why had Ian done it? Was it to punish me more? Or did he find me attractive? What was going to happen next Saturday? At least he had said he'd see me, so, presumably, I still had my job.
I eventually got home about an hour later than usual and Mum gave me my dried up dinner.
"Where have you been?" she demanded.
"Overtime" I snapped.
"Well you could have rung me to let me know you'd be late."
She was not happy.
I picked at my meal without saying a word but just couldn't eat much and eventually put most of it in the bin.
"Is something the matter, dear?"
She started fussing, as mums do.
"Nothing… I'm going to bed."
"Why? It's early. Are you alright, dear?"
"I'm fine. Just tired," I answered, ungraciously, and went upstairs.
I couldn't wait to get my clothes off.
Naked, I looked at my bum in the mirror. It was still quite red but not as bright as I thought it would be. I gave it a slap. It stung a bit but it felt very different to Ian's spanks.
I got in the shower and luxuriated in the warm water.
My hands wandered over my smooth chest and found my hard tits, which I pinched.
I watched the rivulets of water run over my flat belly, darkening my fair pubes as my cock slowly rose out of them.
My attention switched to my bottom as I stroked then kneaded my firm cheeks. My fingers wandered into the crack between them and I gasped as one found my arsehole. Gingerly, I pressed first one, then two into the hole. My cock was rampant by now and I grasped it with the other hand.
My eyes closed, imagining it was Ian's cock up me, I worked my fingers in, out and around and gently stroking my shaft it was not long before I shot gallons of spunk up against the shower wall.
Finishing my ablutions as quickly as I could, I went and collapsed on my bed, naked and utterly exhausted.
Have you ever been in that state where you are so utterly exhausted, physically and emotionally, that you just can't get to sleep, however much you want to?
Well, that was me that night.
Just as I started to drift off, a sudden thought would jerk me wide-awake again.
Did Ian really like me?
Do other guys find me attractive? Why?
Why do I like Ian so much?
What the hell was going to happen next Saturday?
Eventually, I fell into a fitful sleep…
"Take that, you thieving brat!" A belt bit into my bum.
I was lying naked, spread-eagled, over my bed, Mum holding one wrist and Dad's girlfriend holding the other.
Lash! Another stroke across the backs of my thighs.
I craned my neck to see Dad, bare chested, with his arm raised to bring his broad, black belt down again on my poor undefended bum.
Again and again he belted me, each time driving my pelvis into the mattress, my raging hard cock sandwiched between it and my tummy.
As I squirmed, Dad slowly dissolved into Ian and I was being held down by Jason and Charlie, the old guy who works for Ian.
Three or four more lashes and then Ian was soothing something into my bottom.
Then, I shot my load into my sheets and woke suddenly in a sticky hot puddle.
I hadn't had a wet dream for years!
Embarrassed, I cleaned up as best I could then put the sheet in the laundry basket, hoping Mum wouldn't notice the telltale stain.
I got a fresh sheet from the linen cupboard and re-made my bed.
This time I did get off to a deep sleep and woke at about ten o'clock, with glorious sunshine streaming through my curtains.
I was famished and had a hearty breakfast.

"Feeling better, dear?" fussed Mum.
"Yes, thanks. Sorry I was a bit off last night."
"That's alright, dear. It's your hormones, I expect."
Little did she know how right she was!
"I'm going for a good run. OK?"
"Of course, dear. Don't be late for lunch, will you?"
Sunday lunch is still a ritual, even though there are only two of us now.
I went up to change - just a singlet and a pair of silky running shorts, with nothing underneath.
I ran hard! I loved the freedom of nothing underneath, the slapping of my cock and balls against my thighs and the cool air wafting up the short legs onto my still sore bum.
As I ran through the local park, I spotted the public toilets and realised I needed a pee.
Jogging in, I noticed an old guy at the stalls.
As I pulled down the front of my shorts to get my cock out (no flies), I realised that he was staring at it and wanking his own cock.
Despite my attempts to pee, my dick started getting hard. Before I realised what was happening, he was down on his knees and had it in his mouth, pulling my shorts all the way down to my knees.
His rough hands on my bare bottom forced my pelvis closer to his stubbly face.
His hot, moist mouth felt so good on my swollen cock. I grabbed his bald head and started to fuck his face. I could feel his throat muscles constricting on the head of my cock as my pubes brushed against his full lips.
He gagged as I thrust deeper and deeper but I had a firm hold on his head so he could do nothing but take me.
His fingers strayed between my arse cheeks and soon found my hole, which was still slack from Ian's ministrations the day before. As he pushed one, then two fingers into me, I fucked his face with renewed frenzy.
It wasn't long before I felt my cock jerk and send my seed spurting down his throat.
I rapidly withdrew and gave him an almighty slap across the face, sending him sprawling on the wet floor.
"Take that, you perv!" as I pulled up my shorts and ran out of there like a bat out of hell.
I ran and ran, more confused than ever, talking to myself in my head.
'Why had I let him do that?'
'Be honest, Luke, because you enjoyed it!'
'But it was a bloke!'
'But it felt so good.'
'So what does that make me?'
All the cruel words from the playground started swirling around my brain, 'poof', 'queer', 'homo', 'shirt-lifter', 'pansy', 'cock-sucker', 'gay'. At least that last one didn't sound so bad.
'But I am me, Luke!'
Suddenly, the words of that disco song came to me, "I am what I am and what I am needs no excuses."
'So what if I like guys?' I'd always felt awkward and uncomfortable with girls.
'So I'm gay. OK, I'll just have to live with it.'
'Which just leaves one question - is Ian gay too?'