"We have reason to believe that man first walked upright to free his hands for masturbation."

Wednesday, May 29, 2013

All Male Fiction: Whipped Into Shape

Unknown Author

Jim Spencer was a bright, athletic and good-looking kid who should've been at the top of his class. Unfortunately, he was totally out of control, and all of the teachers were really fed up with his classroom antics. As the principal of the high school he attended, I was responsible for discipline, and so I saw Jim in my office at least once a week. He was on his way in again, and I sat behind my desk, wondering how to get through to him.

"Come in," I said gruffly in response to a knock on my door.

Jim opened the door and stepped inside, a smug little smirk on his face. He was wearing his gym clothes, which meant he'd gotten Coach Peterman's goat, which wasn't easy. I shook my head in disgust and stared up at him.

Jim was easy to look at. His bare legs were sleek, with a runner's finely tuned muscles, and his stretched-out tank-top wasn't doing much to hide his muscular torso. At eighteen, Jim's body was in fine shape; pecs, lats, deltoids, you name it, all emerging from gawky boyhood to the first glow of his young manhood. As I looked at him, he reached down and idly scratched his balls.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Jordan?" he asked insolently. "You know how much I always enjoy our little visits."

"I'd like you to behave like a man instead of a jerk," I snapped angrily, rising out of my chair and striding around to the front of my desk. "What was it this time?"

"I got in a little shoving match with Mark Jamison. Coach took Mark's side, of course."

Jamison was a sniveling little tattletale, a type I couldn't abide. I couldn't think of anyone I'd rather shove myself, although I couldn't let Jim know that.

"I told Coach to stuff it up his butt, so he sent me to see our beloved principal. Nice tie, man," he concluded, flicking the end of my tie, his hand skimming by my face, missing my nose by less than an inch.

"Careful, Spencer," I growled, my face going scarlet. "You're stepping over the line, son." I was within a heartbeat of decking the young fool. I took a deep breath and tried to control my temper.

"What're you going to do about it, Jordan? Spank me?" His tone was maddening. "Come on, wimp. Why don't you try to do something?"

He got a wild look in his eye, and before I knew what was happening, he came at me. He grabbed my shirt, ripping it wide open, sending buttons flying all over the office. His eyes got big when he saw my torso. I keep in shape, but you'd never know it under the baggy clothes I wear. I figure the principal doesn't need to look like a calendar centerfold to be effective. Maybe Spencer had thought I was fat and flabby. I wasn't, and I was definitely strong enough to fold him in half if I had to.

I lashed out and grabbed his wrists, pinning his arms behind him. Then I pinned his upper body down flat on the surface of my big desk. His lush ass curved up, pushing against his sweaty gym shorts. It was the kind of butt I looked for when I was searching for a man to fuck; tight and full and perfectly rounded.

"I hate you!" Spencer hissed, his breathing sounding irregular. He struggled and got his arm free enough to take a swing at me. He missed my balls by a fraction of an inch, his fist slamming into my right thigh.

I saw red at that and hauled him up off the desk. I planted a fist in his gut, knocking the wind out of him. He looked up at me in surprise and anguish, his eyes brimming with tears. I tossed him back on the desk and tore off his shorts, baring his ass.

It was gorgeous, the pale skin hairless and creamy white. In the furrow between his flawless cheeks, the pink pucker of his hole gleamed temptingly. I looked at it longingly, then raised my hand and brought it down with a loud smack. His whole body tensed, but Jim didn't cry out. I raised my hand and hit him on the other cheek, leaving a matching handprint. I slammed my hand down a third time, letting it rest on the quivering mound of flesh. His ass was hot to the touch, flexing under my fingers.

I paddled him until my arm was tired and his butt was glowing red. He never made a sound, aside from a few low moans, and those mostly when my hand was resting, not smacking. When my anger had passed, I stood there, arms at my sides, looking down at him.

"Please," he whispered, raising his hand and stroking his ass. "Make it better now."

I wasn't prepared for the jolt of lust I got when he touched himself like that, rubbing his red cheeks. It was like I totally lost control. Spanking his ass had turned me on more than I wanted to admit.

He rolled over on the desk and laid there, looking up at me, his big, blue eyes brimming with tears. His tank-top was up under his arms, baring his torso. His pink nipples were swollen into tight points, and his dick was curved up against his stomach. He was, without a doubt, the most desirable thing I'd ever been alone in a room with.

I quickly locked the door of my office, then stepped back to the desk and dropped my pants. I hooked my hands behind his knees and pulled his ass up. I then kissed the reddened skin, letting my lips slide toward the center. When I kissed his asshole, it fluttered like it was kissing me back. I tongued it until it gaped open for me, then hooked his legs over my shoulders and started prying him open with my cock.

He raised himself up, and clasped his arms around my neck. This brought his weight down, forcing me in his hole up to the hilt. He groaned softly and pressed his chest against me, squirming around. Then I slipped my hands under his ass and picked him up, leaning back as I started bouncing him up and down on my dick.

I swatted his butt from time to time, trying to keep up the illusion that I was still punishing him. I also had to admit that the blows tightened the muscles in his ass, sending bolts of pleasure shooting through me from my cock to the top of my skull.

He was humping me frantically, gasping for air as I fucked him deep and hard. He started to let out a howl that I could only stop by jamming my tongue into his mouth, and, as I did, he blasted cum out all over me. One shot arced up across my shoulder, splattering on my torn shirt. The next one got me on the left pec, a big drop hanging off my nipple like a pearl. Then he covered my gut with thick strands of white goo, finally collapsing in my arms, head lolling against my chest.

I took him back to the desk, laid him down and finished myself off with a few deep-probing strokes. As I pumped his young ass full of cum, I licked stray drops of his load off his stomach and the tip of his dick.

Since that day, there hasn't been a teacher in the school who hasn't commented about how Jim's attitude has changed. Jim still comes to my office for hands-on counseling sessions every afternoon, but he never gets sent to see me for being a troublemaker anymore!

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