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Mark Thompson was the toughest "nut to crack" in the third grade class at Pelmont Elementary School. His teachers sent him to the principal's office so often that, as one teacher said, "there ought to be a groove between his desk and the principal's office," he had made the trip there and back so often. Detention was, for Mark, an opportunity to engage in more mischief. He put thumbtacks on the teacher's hair, squirted glue into the hair of girls he sat behind in class, shot spitballs via a small tube he had at the teacher whenever she dared turn her back. The first grade, the school went through three teachers and four substitutes, all either quit or refused to have him in their class. Second grade was the same. But for the third grade, the school had sought out and transferred in a teacher who had a reputation for cracking the tough nuts of unruly students.
On the surface, Mark was a rather cute young boy of nine years' age, and it was hard to see in that curly black haired, blue-eyed, chubby cheeked, perpetually grinning face any malevolence could be in this soul. The fact is, he wasn't cruel per se, he simply thought that making people look foolish or do funny things like jumping when he dumped ice down the back of their shirts was the height of humor and he laughed uproariously every time at the results of his antics. A small price to pay, sitting in a corner a few minutes or sitting at a desk in detention, when there was such tremendously fun things to do the next day, he used such times to conspire and contemplate his next act of hilarity.
Mark was in high spirits as his third grade approached, he had had less opportunities to pester anyone besides his immediate family and neighbors during the summer, though he had been sent to summer camp (and sent home three days later on what was to have been a six-week camp). He had had four weeks to conjure up in his brain new and more elaborate pranks to pull on his teachers. He had let it be known that they could expect more than the thumbtacks and spit balls this year! He was going for the gold, the prank of all pranks. His classmates could hardly wait to see it be done.
Mark only smiled when he saw the new third grade teacher whose name on the blackboard was "Charles McKinney." Other students blanched as they walked in to see the six foot three inch, muscled hulk of former Marine drill sergeant who now headed their new class. He had fair-toned military hair cut so short the exact color was impossible to indentify as blond or light brown, his eyes were a stern shade of brown, his skin was light tan and well scorched and worn by the elements though his face remained unlined, and his slacks were former Marine issue dress pants, only his shirt, which was a crisply white starched shirt and his red tie tucked into the front between the buttons as if the shirt ought to have been covered with a coat bearing the insignia and bar of multi-colored striped ribbons on his chest. This one was a right military veteran he had on his hands, getting this one's goat would take his best efforts, a good thing he had had four weeks to plot out what that effort would be!
He had built his surprise and smuggled it into the class in his backpack, and waited for his chance. All the time he waited, he was the angelic, well-behaved boy that any teacher dreams of having in their class. As the man went on in detail about the history he was teaching and in fact was making it a bit interesting as he waxed eloquent about the bravery of the men in the battle and the challenges they had faced, but he was mostly waiting until something would take the man out of his class long enough to act.
His chance came quickly, a secretary came to the door and asked to speak to him in the hall. Quick as a flash, the item was out of the backpack and ensconced in and would be triggered by the man's pencil drawer, the next time the man pulled that drawer open, he was going to get the surprise of his life.
He was in luck, the man came back in with some papers, sat at his desk and promptly pulled open the pencil drawer.
*Ka-Pow!* went the drawer and a spray of blue ink splattered all over Mr. McKinney's face in a line of blue dots. The entire class but one gave a gasp of surprise. One laugh rang out. Mark's. "Hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee!"
Mr. McKinney's face didn't change. He reached for the box of tissues on his desk, took one out and wiped his face. Used a mirror and dabbed water on a new tissue and tried again, got most or all of the ink off, maybe a few faint blue smudges were still there, it was hard to tell.
"Mr. Thompson!" Mr. McKinney asked.
"Yes, sir?" Mark had noticed that the new teacher addressed everyone as "Mr. Smith" or "Miss Jones."
"Are you the one responsible for this pathetic attempt at humor?"
"Sir?" Mark felt insulted. "No, sir." he went on. "I did not do that pathetic attempt at humor."
"No?"
"No, sir." Mark paused. "I'm responsible for that slash of ink all across your face. By the way, you missed a dot over here." he pointed to the left side of his face.
Mr. McKinney didn't try to discover if this was true or not. "Mr. Thompson, you have admitted your guilt in this interruption of class discipline and must be punished."
"Yes, sir. What are you doing to do?" he challenged. "Do I sit in the corner the rest of the morning, or do I stay late, or what?"
"I have a surprise for you, Mr. Thompson. The school board has discussed your reputation for being an irredeemable misbehavior and agreed with the approval of your parents, that I am to be allowed to use more extreme measures to bring you into line. So let me introduce you to another board you may not be aware of."
He reached into another drawer of his desk and pulled out a length of solid oak. I had a handle cut into it at one end and the entire thing had been polished and the sharp edges honed down to a fifteen-inch piece of solid, smooth timber. "Another board of education." Mr. McKinney said. He slapped the paddle against his hand and that made a loud *Pop!* sound.
"As your teacher and instructor, I am going to institute the following punishment. You will now received five spanks with the paddle, and then you will apologize to me and to the class for disrupting this class." He slapped his hand again with the paddle. "Get up here right now, Mr. Thompson."
Slowly, Mark rose and put on a brave face. This was to be an epic battle of wills, and he was determined not to crumble. His stepfather had tried to be strict with him, and he had taught that interloper into his and his mother's life a thing or two, the man had declared him to be impossible to handle and said his mother had to deal with him from now on. And Mom didn't even try to stop him any more, as long as he didn't interfere with her home and peace-and-quiet, she was content, the school was left on its own.
He got up to the desk where Mr. McKinney stood waiting for him. "Drop your pants and underwear down to your ankles, and put your hands on the desk, with your feet spread."
"Sir?"
"Drop your pants and underwear down to your ankles, and put your hands on the desk, with your feet spread."
"I can't do that!" Mark said, appalled.
"*Whap!*" went the paddle on Mr. McKinney's hands. "Would you like to make it ten spanks instead of five?"
"No, sir."
"Then do it. Drop your pants and underwear down to your ankles, and put your hands on the desk, with your feet spread."
The class murmured among themselves, "He's not going to do it." "He's got to, he has to drop his drawers and get spanked. Man, this is so cool!"
"Class. Quiet. Now." Mr. McKinney ordered and the noise stopped as if it had been cut off by a knife.
Slowly, Mark unbuckled his pants and pushed them and his briefs down his legs. One girl giggled as she saw he had on Spiderman underpants. "Pretty panties." she blurted out.
"Silence, Miss Banks."
"Sorry, sir." But she continued to giggle softly.
Mark got the pants down to his ankles as ordered and bent over the desk slowly. The paddle came in between his legs and pushed them wider apart, and his legs and the dropped clothing made a sort of equilateral triangle with his anus at the apex and visible from the correct angle, not the class watching them.
Mr. McKinney gave a sort of strange smile and said, "Here they come. One."
*Whap!*
"Ghhhh!" Mark grunted. Damn, that hurt!
"Two." *Whap!*
"Ghhhhh!"
"Three." *Whap!*
"Ghh, uhhh!" Mark whimpered, tears beading up in his eyes.
"Four." *Whap!*
"Mmmmuhhh!" A tear dribbled down his right cheek.
"Five." *Whap!*
"Mmmuhhh, muhhh, muhhh, muhhhh!" A tear slid down his left cheek and a second from the right.
Mark started to pick up his pants but Mr. McKinney barked. "Leave them down. Let the whole class see how your ass looks. I paddled just hard enough to hurt, not enough to leave marks. But I can spank harder."
Mark obeyed, bent slightly to show the class his paddled butt and the boys murmured that the teacher was right, he hadn't left any red marks, though the entire ass was a bit reddened by the paddling.
"Now apologize to the class for disrupting their learning, then face me and apologize for the trick you have pulled on me."
Mark's face set into stubborn lines. "Won't!"
"What was that?" Mr. McKinney said dangerously.
"I won't do it! I am not apologizing! You hit me and that ought to be all of it."
"If you don't apologize to the class, I will punish you more."
"Spank me all you want, I won't apologize."
The odd smile returned to Mr. McKinney's face. "I won't spank you any further. I have something better in mind. If you won't apologize, then face me and get down on your knees."
Mark considered this and Mr. McKinney slapped his hand with the paddle again.
At the sound of the *Whap!* the pain of the five strokes returned and Mark slowly got to his knees facing Mr. McKinney.
"Hard core cases like you came in to me in the service all the time. I broke their stubbornness and I will break yours the same way. If you won't bend to punishment, I will try humiliation instead."
Mr. McKinney set down the paddle, to Mark's relief then began to undo the fly of his trousers. What was the man about to do? Mr. McKinney reached into the fly of his boxers undeneath the khaki pants and fished out his dong and flopped it out for Mark and the entire class to see. Soft at first, it began to rise up like an angry fish rising to attack the fisherman.
The man was uncut but the skin of the shaft was held by the fly and the distending, engorging cock caused the glans to slide out of the sheath of skin that had concealed it. The slit was like an angry eye standing on the end at the tip of the head, a bulbous thing shaped like a plum, red and angry. As Mark watched, the tip began to shine and then a bead of clear fluid formed on its slit.
"Do you know what this is, Mr. Thompson?"
"Yes, sir. It's your doodle."
A few kids snickered at that.
"The proper name is penis, Mr. Thompson. This is my penis. Do you know what your punishment is going to be if you don't apologize to the class for disrupting them?" He didn't wait for Mark to answer, a good thing because Mark didn't have one. "I'm going to make you suck my penis while they watch. So they can see what misbehavior costs them while in my classroom. Are you going to apologize, or are you going to suck my cock?"
Mark was a kid of the modern age, and he understood what sucking a cock was, he had watched a video of a woman doing it. It hadn't occurred to him to be the one sucking on a man, he wasn't a woman!
But those paddlings had hurt.
Mr. McKinney saw his hesitation and said, "I can hit harder if I want to."
"I'll...I'll suck you." Mark said.
Mr. McKinny stepped forward to slap his cock against Mark's right cheek and the gooey stuff at the slit stuck and made a kind of clear rope when he pulled it back again. "Wow, look at that, it stuck to Mark's cheek!" a boy exclaimed.
"Quiet!" Mr. McKinney said and the class subsided again. "Now, take it in your mouth and hold it with your lips only. Keep your teeth clear and work up some saliva as you move your lips back and forth while holding onto my penis. You got that?"
"Uh-huh."
"What was that?" Mr. McKinney said sharply.
"I got it, sir." Mark said meekly.
"Then take it in your mouth."
Mark opened his mouth and slowly put his mouth over the cock, keeping his lips clear of the organ entirely. Looked up at the stern face of Mr. McKinney and his lips closed on the prong about two-thirds of the way down the eight-inch shaft. He pulled back on the dong, feeling the velvety cockskin wrinkling behind his lips and when he got to the glans which made a sort of bump, he stopped, then pushed back down again.
"That's the way, that's how to do it." Mr. McKinney told him. "Now, do it faster, about once a second. I'll count your cadence, go up!"
Mark obediently did so.
"Down."
He slid back down.
"Up, down, every time I count, you got it? One, two, three, four."
Mark moved as he counted it off, pulling up off his cock with the cockskin balled up in his mouth and the gooey stuff pouring onto his tongue (it tasted salty and slimy but also kind of nice, really "man flavored" flavor that he liked) and pushing back down in time for the number to be called out as he was sunk down with the cockhead down near the back of his throat.
"One, two, three, four, one-two-three-four, one-two-three-four, onetwothreefour, onetwothreefouor, onetwothreefouronetwothreefour."
Mark was moving faster as Mr. McKinny counted faster and the man stopped counting and just moaned as he had the boy at high gear.
"Huh-uh-huh-uh, get more spit on it, more!" Mr. McKinney commanded huskily. "Keep up the speed, faster, fast, fast, fast. "Huhhhuhuhuhuhh!" he shivered.
Suddenly, rather roughly, Mr. McKinney pulled him off his dong, and Mark saw he had the man's prong silvery-shining in the overlight florescent lighting of the room.
"Ooohhhh!" the class sounded altogether as they saw the glimmering sight.
"It looks like...like a missile!" one boy enthused.
"I wonder what it tasted like, sucking on it." another boy mused.
"Ewww, it's gross." a girl said, but who cares what girls think, Mark thought. He tried to go down on it again, get more of that sticky goo, it had been gushing onto his tongue all along and he wanted more of it.
"That's what boys who won't apologize to the class get." Mr. McKinney said gruffly, his chest rising and falling, he gulped hard and continued. "Now apologize to me, for your antics."
If he apologized, he wouldn't be allowed to suck the dick anymore. Mark set his jaw. "Won't!" he declared. "Never!"
"Oh, really!" Mr. McKinny seemed to be fighting back a grin. "Well, time to show you what happens to naughty boys who won't apologize to me for a prank. Get to your feet!"
Mark did, wondering, and nearly tripped over his pants and briefs still around his ankles, and Mr. McKinney caught him before he fell and spun him around and almost slung the boy against his desk.
Mark hit the desk and his crotch was right at the slight overhang of the desktop, his dick under it and rubbing the soft curvature where the top met the side of the desk.
Then he felt it, the hard slippery head of the dong pushing at his asshole and he cringed. "Sir! Mr. McKinney! Don't do it, don't....AHHHH-GAHHH-HHAHHHH-UHHHHHH!" He groaned as the hard prong was stuffed into his butt as fast as it would slide in.
There was pain, but it was not unbearable pain. His ass was getting stretched out, but his turds had been about as big as this thing, except for going up instead of coming down the chute, the stretch wasn't too bad. And his spit was thick, it helped a lot.
"Ahhh-ahhh-ahh-ahhh!" Mark grunted as he felt the thick dong stop. "Oh, oh, God, you have it all the way up inside me!"
"Hell if I do, that's a bit more'n half of it. You want more?"
"No! I mean, maybe if you do it easy."
"You're not supposed to like it. You like that, how about this?" Mr. McKinney pulled his cock out until only the head was still inside.
Mark's ass felt so empty! No, bring it back! He moaned only, afraid to speak more words of encouragement. He was supposed to hate this!
"And this!" Mr. McKinney shoved it in again, harder this time than the first. But the path had been laid, as it were, the boy's bowels only welcomed back the new friend that had filled it so wonderfully full!
He began to pump his hips, sending the dong out and in and out and in and out and in, faster and faster. "How does this feel, miscreant? Feel good?"
He couldn't say yes, though his soul longed to. "No, no, it hurts, pull it out! (Push it in faster!)" he gasped.
"The hell I will. You're taking all of it, the entire fucking load I got built up in my balls. I haven't whacked my cock in more'n a week, and it's all there for your hot little naughty ass. I'm going to keep this up until I pump it all into you!"
"Ohhhhhh, nooooooo!" Mark groaned (Oh, yessssss!). "Don't do it (do it)!" he gasped. "It feels so...hurtful (wonderful!)."
"Good, it's meant to hurt you, teach you a lesson. Are you going to do it again? Are you?"
"No, sir." Mark said. (Not that particular stunt.) "I won't do it again, ever."
"I don't believe you, I'm going to keep pumping you so you get the full punishment."
"Uhhhhhh-uhhh-uhhh-uhhh-uhhhh!" Mark felt his cock begin to tingle and quiver in a way that it usually only did when he played with it. It was about to feel amazing, real soon! "Ohhhh-ohhh-ohh-ohhh!"
"Wow." a boy in the class gasped. "Look at that. Teacher is really hammering Mark's ass with that. I wonder how it feels?"
"I bet it feels nasty!" a girl chimed in.
"Maybe." another boy allowed. "I'd have to try it before I'd say that, though. I wonder if I could get teacher to do that to me?"
"No!" Mark called out. "You don't want this! You don't! (He's mine, all mine!)"
"Maybe." the boy said again.
Mark began to gasp and pant, his joy was upon him. "It. Hurts. So. Much. I. May. Scream! AHH-AHHH-HHAHH-AHH-AHH-AHHHHH!"
"Hot little punk, I'll teach you to mess with me, I'll teach you, ah-hah, ah-hah, ah-hah, ah-hah!" Mr. McKinney shifted his position a bit and began to slam-fuck the boy pinned on this desk. "Little...fucking...piece, of, shit! AH-GAHH-HAHH-HUHHHHH!" Mr. McKinney clenched his teeth so tight the ligaments in his throat stood out, his head was raised and he groaned a long, low groan as he shot his load up into Mark's bowels.
"Wow, look at that, it's dripping out, it's dripping out!" a boy exclaimed. "Jesus, I bet that stuff stings like crazy!"
"Oh, God!" the boy who wanted to try it moaned, "I want teacher to do it to me, I want him to do me! Oh, oh, ohhhhhhhhh!" The boy's cries suggested he'd just creamed in his pants, if he could cream at all, that is.
"God, this is so fucking hot! So hot!" another boy moaned.
"You boys are all sick and twisted!" a girl challenged them. "This is terrible!"
"He's being punished." another boy gasped.
"Ewww, you're rubbing yourself while you watch them. Gross!" the girl declaimed.
"Punishment, punishment!" the boy gasped.
Mr. McKinney was done, panting, he held still a while, then pulled out of Mark's ass and a rush of come followed his shaft out.
"And that's what bad boys get in my class. I hope all you boys and girls were watching this, you act up, and I'll give you the same treatment!"
To Mark. "Now, pull up your pants and get back to your seat. I don't want to hear a word from you the rest of the day!"
Mark obeyed and was quiet and the class routine continued. He remained quiet in the other classes. But as night came, he made a decision and made a plan.
Mr. McKinney called the class to order the nexthe Battle at Thermopylae." he intoned.
He turned his back and Mark shot a spitball with cunning accuracy and got him right in the back of his head. The spitball stuck and Mr. McKinney turned and felt behind himself.
Mark didn't put away the spitball firer fast enough and was caught. "Mr. Thompson!" Mr. McKinney roared.
Mark had to fight a smile back on his face as he said, "I didn't do it!"
"Yes, he did, I saw him, he did it!"
"Get up here!" Mr. McKinney ordered.
This was going to be a battle of the wills. Mark felt serene that he would be the ultimate victor in all this after all.
THE END
Comments, Complaints or Suggestions?
Send E-mail to Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM.
NOW ON SALE!
USE THE "CLICK TO LOOK INSIDE"
FOR MORE FREE STUFF!
(The Story You Just Read is Available in the "My Brother, the Tiger" book)