Confessions of a Voyeuristic Mother Part 5

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This story is intended for adults only. It contains depictions of forced nudity, spanking, and sexual activity of preteen and young teen children for the purpose of punishment. None of the behaviors in this story should be attempted in real life, as that would be harmful and/or illegal. If you are not of legal age in your community to read or view such material, please leave now.

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My name is Mildred Abernathy. I’m a fourth grade teacher at White Mountain Elementary. I was asked by one of my parents to write a short accounting of the progress I’ve seen in her son Ian over the past couple of years. I guess by the name you probably have read some of her observations as well. The one thing I can’t wrap my mind around though is her account makes it sound like Ian started his program when he was eleven, and I know he started at nine. I know because I was a part of the team. I think Mrs. Smith (that’s what I will call her to maintain anonymity) may have miswritten Ian’s story. Well here’s my reminiscence of what really took place with him.

Ian came to my classroom two years ago. He’s a really good looking little boy--very trim and athletic. I was immediately struck by the handsomeness of his face, and, if I had a little boy of my own, I’d want him to have legs as firm and pronounced as Ian’s. There’s more but we’ll get into that later. Because summer was ending the boy showed up daily in what I would consider short shorts. I mean they were more a fashion of the seventies exposing a good ninety percent of his beautiful legs. Unlike the seventies though, he wore footies inside his Nikes, rather than knee socks. His mother simply said, “With legs like his, I want them tanned and exposed.”

Ian was an active little boy. He liked to get into mischief as much as most of his male classmates. He was better at dodging consequences than many of his friends because of his polite demeanor. Ian also had terrible study habits. Often, he’d show up without his homework. Mom told me he’d tell her he didn’t have any. His test scores were horrendous as well. We both told him his lackadaisical attitude was heading him for retention in the fourth grade if he didn’t buckle down. I secretly planned to keep him in my classroom for the additional year, if that situation did occur.

His mother mentioned she’d been reading on the internet and saw a story from another parent who had problems with her eleven year old. She was impressed with the solution that mother wrote about. It basically involved limiting his clothing and increasing painful interventions with a belt to his bare backside. I listened intently. She, being a single parent (her husband was deceased) was kind of at a loss. She’d been grounding him, she’d talk to him and she’d make him stay after school to finish his work. She tried almost everything the good guidance counselor recommended. It wasn’t working.

During our discussion my mind kept racing back to the description of the program she’d briefly outlined. I wondered what “limiting his clothing” meant. Far be it from me to discourage that. I could only imagine more of this beautiful child’s skin exposed. I’d have given a week’s pay to see him naked. I mean he was so beautiful, the average adult woman would want to see more. I kept wondering as his mother talked, “where’s this all going?”

I asked her what she proposed to do. First, she talked about using a heavy leather belt on his bare backside. She said her late husband got results with him after a good whipping. She didn’t like it because she felt sorry for Ian when she’d see the pink backside striped with belt marks. But she also was quick to tell me that she would often ask her husband to whip him. She just didn’t think she could do it herself and get the same results. Then she confided in me that she really kind of liked watching him get the belt. She enjoyed his humiliation at being nude and having to bend over and hold the seat of a kitchen chair. She actually enjoyed watching him cry and beg his father not to spank him with the “I’ll be good, I’ll do better, I promise.” She said it never worked. Then he’d be screaming in pain as his Dad put the belt to him. She actually told me it made her horny. I couldn’t blame her though. I was getting horny just picturing it in my head, as I often did when he was misbehaving.

My turn to confess, I told her it was quite all right to have those feelings. I confessed that was why I called parents to tattle on their male offspring. I’d hope to hear they were going to whip the fire out of them when they got home. Then the next day, I’d ask the little guys, “What did your mother or father do to you because you…?” I felt very good when they’d tell me they got a whipping or spanking. Then I’d really want to know, “Did he/she make you take your pants off?” Something about a little boy’s bare butt and genitalia that added an element of humiliation for kids this age. It also added to my sexual fantasy. “Do they use their hand or a belt, brush or spoon?” My preference was for them to get the belt. In fact, several times I specifically told the parent to use a belt on them. I also hinted stripping them would provide the most effective sting.

Ian’s mom had decided to try the belt. As I said, she also was going to use it on his naked backside. Then a remarkable thing happened. She told me she wanted me to do the same when he needed it. Here I was, a second year teacher, twenty two years old. And this nine year old’s mother was entrusting me with the permission for corporal punishment whenever I thought he needed it. I was hot just thinking about doing that to this boy. To see him in the altogether with the opportunity to sneak a feel of this beautiful specimen’s penis and ball sack was overwhelmingly inviting. I remember how hard it was for me to speak in my usual tone of voice just from the anticipation of such contact. I was so choked up at the thought I could hardly talk. In order to hide my apparent eagerness, I told her I’d do it only because she needed my support. I really wanted to do it because my libido would benefit greatly. I went to the file cabinet and got the necessary permission sheet to be signed. Because she wanted it done outside the normal paddling guidelines she had to delineate the specifics of the process on the back of the form. I watched as she wrote “Ian’s is to be naked and a belt is to be used on his bare bottom. Miss Abernathy will determine the extent of the spanking.”

I was already trying to trump up a reason to put the leather to this boy. I was so aroused. I had to try to hide my excitement. I didn’t want her to think I was perverted. I did suggest perhaps a good belting for not doing his homework and every time he failed a test would be beneficial. She agreed.

Then she started on some other things. Somewhere she got the idea that limiting the amount of clothing, no, no, I remember, “exposing the most skin allowable afforded more touch stimulation and generally had the effect of increasing attention span and improving compliance.” Again, I could hardly talk, my estrogen was at an all-time high, I was so eager to hear more I was actually trembling. I mean how could she show more skin and still stay within the school’s dress code? I’ll tell you at that point I was ready to confront the principal, superintendent and/or school board to make it happen. After I gathered myself together I asked her what that meant, exactly.

She began with making him wear those wonderful shorts that teased imaginations year round. Now, we’re talking New Hampshire here. You know the recipient of Nor’easters—record snowfalls. I projected the sight of this miniature hunk coming into the classroom with his face and cheeks pink from the cold, nose running, and completely exposed legs on display. One could only imagine his penis and testicles retreated to the size of a nub from the cold air circulating under those shorts. I didn’t want her to know how excited she was making me, so I sort of suggested it might be cold for Ian, if she did that. Her response was that he’d live. She’d let him wear long sleeve shirts, sweaters, and jackets, but his legs would always be bare. I’ve already told you how I feel about seeing that child’s legs. Then she added, he wouldn’t be wearing any underwear either. All I could think about was that I’d finally get a shot at seeing his penis and testicles, but then again, she’d already told me to strip him and whip him when he needed it. But, there’s just something about making those parts available to the other kids and the public at large that will get the hormones flowing, isn’t there? I sat there picturing those wide legged shorts and how easily anyone could see the boy’s package when he sat cross legged as we did on the floor for many activities, or legs spread at his desk, or imagine the showing on the playground as he climbed and swung on the various equipment. Not only was I going to get a show, but all the rest of the girls and boys would also get a view. My response to her was, “That’s probably a good idea.”

She blew me away with her next statement, “Besides, he’s so modest, I really like the idea of embarrassing him by making him be as exposed as he can be. You can bet I’ll be sending him in those short shorts the whole time.”

Obviously, I was the child rearing authority in her book, even though she was probably ten or twelve years my senior. Not to mention, I was single and she’d been a mother for nine years. Interesting what a college degree does.

I asked her what that meant for her while he was home. I was really curious. She told me that she’d have his teenage sitter strip him naked when he came in from school and make him stay that way until she got home from work. Suddenly, I felt I might want to be his sitter. I’d even undercut the sitter’s fee by a dollar or two an hour. But, in an effort not to let my eagerness betray my horniness, I decided to wait a month or two to suggest that. I did set the stage though by asking, “He has a sitter in the afternoons?”

She told me she hired a sixteen year old girl from down the street to stay with him. As she went on, she kind of made a mental note to provide her with a belt so she could discipline him as well. Hearing that, I was at the point of having to excuse myself for a few minutes. Oh god, the mental image of this sixteen year old swinging the belt down on Ian’s beautiful ass was just too much. I couldn’t help but imagine her inviting her friends over to watch her exercise her authority over this nude nine year old ward.

Just when I was at a point I couldn’t handle any more, she added a gangbuster. “He needs to have a minimum of a 20 minute massage three times a day. It is supposed to be done by an attachment figure, you know like a teacher, parent or caregiver.”

I asked what the purpose of that was, and she just said it improved compliance behavior and concentration. It was the antithesis of the harsh punishment. You know good touch (the loving massage) versus bad touch (the leather strap). It was almost like she was setting me up. I think she thought I’d find that a bit intrusive of my time. But, she had my attention. So I asked, “What does that entail?”

She went on to explain, Ian would be totally nude and placed in what she called a frog position. As it turns out that’s simply on his back with his hands behind his head and the soles of his feet together and pulled up toward his torso. With that image, I had to literally pass my hand by my mouth for fear I was drooling just imagining it. She actually said the reason for that was to give unbridled access to his penis, testicles and anus. Oh my God!

Acting completely unknowing I said, “certainly you don’t massage his genitals,” hoping I was wrong, but playing it professionally. Kaboommm, she said yes you do. You have to spend at least five minutes on them according to my friend. You rub them, pull on the penis, play with the glans, move his balls around inside the scrotum, in short yes you do. I had to find a way for that to befall me.

Trying as hard as I could not to show my true feeling I said, “Well, I guess I could do that during my planning time, if you can’t figure out a way to have someone else do it.” My fingers were crossed in my mind. It was truly a risky game I was playing with that remark. Turns out it worked. She said she would love it if I could, but that she’d understand if I declined. Something about, “I know you’re probably very busy and this is just asking too much.”

Not to reveal my true intent, my response was, “Hey, I took this job to be here for the kids and their families. I’ll do whatever it takes to help one of my children (specifically thinking “my boys”) deal with a problem. If he needs a massage, I’ll make the time to do it.” I don’t think she sensed my total eagerness to explore her son’s body, at least I hoped she didn’t.

“Well, we could try it and if you find it too much, I’ll find another way to work this. I figured if you could do it at school, and Jennifer could do it when she strips him at home, I could handle the morning massage before we send him to school. Yes, I think this will work out.”

I was interested to know specifically what I was to do. I asked if there were any patterns I had to follow. She said for me to make sure a minimum of five minutes of the time was spent on his penis and testicles and the rest was up to me. Then she added, it would be beneficial if I would penetrate his anus with one or two fingers and slide them in and out a few times. That she felt was too much to ask. Hesitantly, I responded I could do that too.

At that point if we didn’t end the conference, I was going to have a huge wet spot on the back of my dress when I stood up. All I could think was “Ian you’re mine!”

Being a new teacher, I really wanted to explain all of this to the principal should I be caught in a compromising position. I felt it best to have both Ian’s mother and the guidance counselor present when I proposed it. Mr. McClarney, the principal was a gruff man and having as much support present as I could was important.

The meeting went well. I mean the part about whipping his bare ass with a belt was fine with Mr. M. In fact, he was very favorable to having that happen to Ian. The dress thing wasn’t an issue either, “We teach ‘em, you dress him. You’re the parent. Send him in whatever you want within reason,” was his response. Then the massage thing was brought up. When he heard I’d be massaging a naked nine year old his hand went up in a stop gesture. It was clear he was dead set against such a thing, “I don’t…”

Then Sue Hoskins the guidance counselor broke in. “No, wait. I’ve heard of that. I read about it in an article in Guidance and Psychology Research just last week. Yeah, they’re doing a lot of research at some medical school with kids who are having compliance and learning problems. I think we should try it. I mean if Ian improves, we have what forty or fifty other little boys it might work for? What’s to lose we have a parent here who is already sold on it. I say we should give it a go, but I also think we need a parental release that describes the procedure and authorizes Milly to do it.”

Mr. M was not sold on the idea. He expressed his concern that word would get out there was a pervert on the faculty and it could end both his and my careers. Sue came up with an idea, “We’ll just put a brief article about it in the school bulletin and send it home. It’ll be about trying some new, still unproven massage therapy for one of our students. We can tell them, that we’ll keep them posted on the progress. Then it won’t look so covert. It’ll be right out in the open.”

Mr. M agreed with the codicil that if one parent started spouting off about the morality of it all, we’d stop doing it. All present agreed. Of course, I prayed no one would object. I must also admit neither Ian’s mother, nor I, let on I’d be massaging his boy parts, or stimulating his anus. That would have been a program breaker.

I was so pumped after that meeting I wanted to get started, at least on the massage part, immediately. But, it’d have to wait for one other person to get the news—Ian.

That evening I was invited to dinner at his house so we could let him know what was going to happen. I’ll never forget the facial expression as he opened the door and I was standing there. He was still fully clothed. I was half expecting to be greeted by a naked boy, but no such luck.

I must admit, I wanted to see more of Ian, but I was really not sure how to change the situation. It was better to back off trying to manipulate her into either making him strip, stripping him herself, or better yet allowing me to undress the boy. I remember the fleeting hope that she would ask me to undress him before we sat down to eat. My stomach was a little wrenched by the thought of being the one to pull down those jockey shorts and expose Ian’s play things. Before I could drop the suggestions there was a chime from the doorbell. Ian wearing his short shorts and sporting a tank top t-shirt got up and went to answer it without coaching from his mother. It was Jennifer the babysitter. The team was gathered for supper and with a little luck the literal unveiling of the program.

After introductory niceties we sat down to eat. Ian was charged with saying grace. Little did anyone present know, but my prayer was for something else that evening. That cute little guy was sitting with his legs crossed on the seat of the chair. I could actually see the underwear with the bulge of his boy parts clearly visible. I loved when he sat like that at school, but was liking it even more when I could give it my full attention at home. Those folded squared off knees and now exposed tanned inner thighs were, for me, the ultimate tease. If we were at school, I’d find some reason for one on one help and I’d have my hand on those beautiful firm smooth thighs, all the time trying not to reveal to him how exciting I found touching them.

We ate and chatted the whole time. Ian helped clear the table. Politely both Jennifer and I offered to help with clearing or preparation of dessert. Being the hostess she was, Ian’s mother declined help except from her son. Dessert and coffee were served. Ian drank milk.

It was at that time Mrs. Smith started outlining the program we discussed earlier in the week. It was evident neither Ian nor Jessica were in the least bit aware of the requirements. She told them she was going to try something new one of her friends did with her son to help her boy with his behavior and school work. She said it worked so well she wanted to do it with Ian.

She started by touching on the new dress code. I would have thought the boy would balk at having to wear shorts in the winter, but he didn’t. Surprisingly it was Jessica to broached the question about being too cold. She was satisfied when Mrs. Smith offered the observation that it was viruses that caused illness not the temperature. She reassured her that Ian would wear a winter coat over his torso, but his legs would be bare. Then she spoke to the no underwear issue and I had butterflies dancing in my stomach thinking about it.

Ian objected to that. He whined that his shorts were too short to begin with and without underwear the girls would see his boy parts and backside. Mrs. Smith put that objection away by telling him that everyone has seen little boy penises and his was no different. Then forcefully saying, if this is what it takes this is what he’d do. Jessica inquired about the “Why’s”. She was told the program developer felt the more exposed the boy’s body was to airflow, temperature, textures and pressures of the natural environment the better the outcomes. The sixteen year old seemed happy with that. I think she realized it wasn’t her call and that she’d play along. But we know it is also about exposing his genitals to the general public and humiliating him.

She continued by telling both Jennifer and me we’d now have to use a belt to his naked bottom every time he disobeyed or was disrespectful. In essence we’d have to strip him naked and put the leather to him aggressively. Immediately Ian challenged his mother as to Jessica’s bona fides to do such a thing. “Jessica is just a kid too!” He argued.

Mrs. Smith countered plainly, “When you are in her care, she will punish you anyway I ask and you will take it. If you feel she punished you wrongly we can discuss it when I get home. But you will let her wear you out if she needs to. And, I’m telling her to use a belt after she strips you naked. That’s it. If you don’t want a whipping behave yourself.”

I really loved his next attack, “She gets to see me naked? That’s not going to happen!”

Having been privy to the entire plan, I couldn’t wait until he learned the next few segments. I was even excited to see Jennifer try to argue against some of the new provisions knowing full well the girl could hardly wait to get started. “Mrs. Smith, Ian might be embarrassed when I strip him.”

Mom didn’t miss a beat, “Let’s hope so. He needs to be humiliated.”

Next came the massage segment. Mrs. Smith says, “Ian needs a full body massage three times a day. I’ve already talked with Miss Abernathy about it. She will do the massage at school from one to one thirty each afternoon. You, Jennifer, will massage him as soon as he gets home from school and I will take care of the morning massages. In a few minutes I’ll demonstrate how to position him and talk you through the process. Like Ian, I don’t think Jennifer was aware the boy would be totally naked during these massages. I was anxious to see how she would try to downplay her excitement over doing the task.

Within minutes Mrs. Smith issued the ultimate order. She told Ian to take off his shirt. He unabashedly pulled the shirt off exposing his tight little abs and tanned upper torso. God, he was good looking. Then she asked for his shorts and underwear. That’s where he drew a line. He tried to explain that Jennifer and I were present and he wasn’t about to be naked in front of us. Now, I don’t care how much you tell an eight to sixteen year old boy that everyone has seen little boys naked and there was nothing to hide. They don’t buy it. Ian was no exception. As he argued all I could think about was seeing this beautiful specimen in the all together for the first time. I actually longed to see his penis and scrotum just to test the accuracy of my imagination. Needless to say both mother and son engaged in combative discourse over him getting naked in front of her and even worse us. Then Mom picked up the strap and started swing wildly at Ian’s butt. He outmaneuvered her and was headed for the front door, when I felt compelled to intervene for Mrs. Smith. I grabbed him and pushed him into the wall. When she caught up she asked me to hold him while she applied the belt. I reminded her he needed to be naked for it to be most effective and then told Jennifer to undress him while I held him. As he struggled to free himself I grew in resolve, besides I wanted to finally see that little peter spring free.

She didn’t lose much time in applying the belt to his naked buttocks. She didn’t even bend him over to make the target better. She just laid it to him while he stood there with me holding his arms up, and yes the peter was pointing north. Jennifer finally got the message and helped me to hold him while he squirmed trying to free himself and get away from the painful swats. I was committed to not permit that, and he didn’t. When his mother finally stopped putting those nice pink stripes across this kid’s beautiful ass cheeks he was crying profusely and shouting angry things. He was telling us how much he hated us and threatening to run away.

That stopped when his mother opened the front door and said, “If you want to go, go!” He squealed that he needed his clothes and that’s when his mother dropped the next bombshell. She told him from now on when he wasn’t in school he’d be naked. He had his hands holding his package tight to keep it from our view and his mouth fell open at that announcement as tears and nasal discharge poured down his reddened face. It was as if that announcement changed his angry emotion to one that was a bit more cowering. He began saying “why, Mommm” mixed with “pleassss don’ t make me”. His mother made him stand with his hands behind his back facing the three of us as she waited for him to calm enough to demonstrate the massage session. I, as did Jennifer, had my sight fixed on his rather handsome penis and testicles--much more there than I expected to see. His cut little mushroom head was really cute atop that smooth 3”softened shaft. And, the little bag below was loose and laying across the unmistakable impression of his two marbles. I wanted to feel it, rub it, pull anything to coax it to it’s hardened state again. Soon, all three of us would get our chance.

After thirty minutes Mrs. Smith ordered her son to lie down on the floor. He complied without argument which was kind of unanticipated. She moved his limbs to the positions she wanted and when she pushed those feet up making his groin fully accessible I was beside myself. Jennifer was gawking at his penis and testicles. Then the mother started stroking his face gently telling us to begin with his face and work down his torso. When she’d cleared his mid-section, she briefly brushed his penis and testicles, but enough to get the little guy stiff. Then she did those beautiful legs going down each inner thigh to this ankles and feet. Looking up from there, she let it fly. “Now go back to his boy parts and concentrate on them for at least five minutes. And she did. She rubbed it gently occasionally giving his phallus a firm tug. She played with the glans and the urethral opening at time comically talking to it like it was a separate entity. Surprisingly, Ian was trance like and didn’t object verbally. Then without any indication as to her intentions she yanked up on his erect penis and shoved the index finger of her opposite hand up Ian’s rectum. I know my hormones had to have caused me to leave a visible indication of how hot I thought that was. Even Jennifer gasped as the boy lunged up off his back during the penetration. Mrs. Smith told us how important it was to stimulate his anal area and demonstrated by sliding her finger back and forth in and out of the boy’s hole. The Jennifer had a slight Freudian slip and said, “You mean I get to do that?” Quickly she corrected herself and said, “You mean I have to do that?”

The response was a simple “At least twice during the massage, first with one finger then with two, stretch that hole a bit.”

Frankly, I hoped the teenager wouldn’t say any more for fear she’d spoil it for me. Ian did remark as his mother reinserted her index and middle fingers that it hurt. And, his mother brushed it off with a threat, “That’s too bad. Does it hurt more than the belt?”

After the twenty minute demonstration Mrs. Smith asked Jennifer to do the same thing to her son. I could tell he was very uncomfortable with having a teenage babysitter playing with his genitals. But then again it appeared that Jennifer felt a little awkward at first too. Eventually, it seemed she really got into playing with the kid’s package. The look of apprehension came back when she was told to penetrate the boy’s anus. She paused with her index finger positioned and looked toward Mrs. Smith with an expression like “really?”

Mrs. Smith told her to pull up on his erection real hard and at the same time shove both her index and middle fingers in at the same time. “I already loosened him up. So you don’t have to be gradual.”

Watching this, I only hoped she’d want me to demonstrate as well. I had to get my hands on this beautiful kid. I wasn’t going to let her pass me off as already knowing the process. She didn’t. I was next.

When I positioned myself next to the splayed boy, I could see the fear in his eyes. I started by gently stroking his shaft and ball sack and quietly reassuring him that I wasn’t going to hurt him. I was so horny as I played with that stiff appendage and moved those marbles around in their bag. I couldn’t stand it. Eventually, I moved to his face and followed the same process as my predecessors. Then came the ultimate experience, time to impale the kid with my fingers. I was breathing heavy at that point. My blood pressure was up as I shoved them in there, pulling hard on his erection at the same time I forced the insertion, of course. This was exciting to me. Following my training session I remained on the floor stroking Ian’s little hard on while we discussed his demise. At two points during that I swear the kid had dry orgasms. His ass lifted off the floor and fell back as he groaned and breathed heavy. Surprisingly, the first time I removed my hand while his body contorted and when it landed he put my hand back on his package as if to say, “do it again.” He truly was calmer than I’d ever seen him. That stuff worked.

The very next day he showed up in his wide legged shorts and sure enough, I suggested the class meet on the floor so we could discuss the day’s goals. As required all of them sat cross legged. All those little legs on display were so beautiful to look at. I asked Ian to sit next to me. I wanted the opportunity to make sure he was bare under there and that he’d provide the rest of my class, especially the girls, the opportunity to check out his package. Casually, I slid my hand up his thigh. He grabbed it as if to stop the progression. I knew he was free balling from his reaction to my attempt to push the fabric up further. I slapped him on his arm and removed his hand, and immediately pushed the leg of his shorts up so far his little pecker made it’s debut. Thankfully, it didn’t go unnoticed. Ian turned red as the rest of the class laughed and some of them actually verbalized, “Look Ian doesn’t have any underpants on.”

He immediately tried to pull the shorts back down and I slapped him again. “Ian, this is your school family. We don’t have any secrets. You let your penis be. I’m sure all the boys and girls have seen a penis before.” They giggled more at the word penis than the view they had of the actual body part. “In fact, Ian, from now on you pull your shorts up so you little peepee can see what’s going on too.” This caused an actual outburst of laughter from the kids. I was hoping displaying his penis in class would pique some playground bullying and he would either lose his shorts completely or be pinned down so the others could feel his goods up his legs. To make certain that did occur I privately suggested to one of the tomboys that nobody would be too upset if was to happen. What do you know, it did!

After recess I had to deal with an angry and crying little boy. His attitude was much the same as it was the night before. This time his anger was pointed at five or six of the little girls in class. Tina, my tomboy, just sat there smiling. I was really oblivious to Ian’s complaint, as my mind was on my one o’clock appointment with him.

As the month rolled along I used the belt on his naked body at least four times. I really got into doing it. My swing improved and my calling cards (belt stripes) lasted for a day or two. His cute little boner was on display whenever he sat on the floor and often when he was at his desk. I required it and the kids never really grew tired of seeing it. But, the assignments were turned in more regularly and his test performance improved. I felt it might be a good time to discuss stepping up the punishment to being administered in front of his classmates. Mr. M wouldn’t go along with that. But you can’t blame a girl for trying.

I know that Mrs. Smith paraded him around nude. She took him to crowded beaches and made him skinny dip. She took him to the county park and made him stay naked while they hiked. People around the community referred to him as the “wild boy”. But it was evident they enjoyed seeing him. So I guess I had to set the record straight. Ian was on his mother’s program long before his eleventh year. I know because I was lucky enough to be a part of it.

Unfortunately, the program caused his homework and testing to improve to the point Mr. M wouldn’t allow me to retain him. I so looked forward to playing with his penis and striping his bare backside for another year. I’m sure Al Wilkins his fifth grade teacher would get into the bare butt belting, but he sure as hell wouldn’t do any of that massaging. Too bad.

(The End)