There are sixteen year olds who look 16; and there are sixteen year olds who look very much younger. David looked 14, was 16. Short for his age, stocky, black haired, brown eyes, smooth brown skin, so very boyish.
I say this as one who had just met David at the door of his home. His father, James, and I had known each other for a while, playing golf. As friendships develop, conversations become more trusting - and we had discovered a shared interest and belief in the value of physical punishment for boys. James was separated from his wife and had only recently taken over the daily care of David, who had become unmanageable in his mother's home. He had taken David on an understanding that, unlike David's mother, he believed in and would practise corporal punishment, but it was only now that the need had arisen. So James had invited me to witness David's first ever spanking, at the tender age of 16.
David, answering the door at six on a weekday evening, was still in his school clothes: black trousers and shoes, white shirt and socks, blue and silver diagonally striped tie.
"You've come to see me get spanked," he said, showing me into the empty front room and turning off the TV.
"Your dad explained?"
"He said it would add to the punishment because it would enbarrass me. I think I'm going to have to drop my trousers or something. Has he told you what he's going to do?"
"You've never been spanked before?"
"No. But I agreed if I came here I'd accept it."
"I think you may lose more than those trousers of yours..."
"Oh! You mean.... oh.... oh!" He looked shocked.
At which point James walked in. "I see that David has introduced himself. Please sit down, Peter."
I sat; James sat. David stood, looking awkward, facing us both as we sat at each end of the settee.
"Tell Peter why you are being punished."
"It's embarrassing, dad!"
"If you think that's embarrassing, wait until your punishment. Tell him, or I'll add a cane to the whole thing."
"Dad caught me doing something I shouldn't with another boy."
"Tell Peter how old the other boy was."
"Thirteen."
"Tell Peter what you were doing."
"Do I have to, dad?"
"You do."
"We were... masturbating..." He hung his head.
"Pretty childish, wasn't it?" James said.
"Yes Dad."
"And since you've been so childish, I've decided to treat you like a child. Take off your shoes please."
"Am I going to have to take everything off, dad?"
"I think we could do with rather less conversation and more action. Now your shoes are off, take off your tie."
David removed his tie. He looked sweetly quizzical in his white shirt, buttoned to the top, black trousers and white socks.
"What would you like him to take off next, Peter?" James asked.
"His shirt."
"Good. Take off your shirt now David."
David shyly unbuttoned his shirt, untucked it from his black school trousers and pulled it over his head, the lower buttons still fastened. He'd obviously been out in the sun a good deal - he had a beautifully tanned upper torso and look very cute now.
"Take off your socks."
He removed his white socks and was barefoot.
"Pop upto your bedroom, take off your trousers and come back in just your briefs."
As David disappeared, James lifted some seat cushions and laid them lengthways on the dining table which stood in a bay window at the back of the lounge. Then he took a white sheet from behind the settee and we put it over the cushions. He also had two white down-filled pillows which he placed in the middle of the table, and a towel which he put over the pillows.
David returned in white Y-Fronts, a nice but still soft bulge in his crotch. He looked at the table in puzzlement.
"Climb onto the table and lie on your back, your bum on top of the pillows," James commanded.
David climbed from a chair onto the table and lay over the pillows his midriff raised up. James had me stand at one side of the table whilst he stood at the other, both facing each other over David's Y-Fronts.
"Now we're going to take your pants down, David," James said, with mischievous relish in his voice. "Hold his waistband opposite me, Peter". We both held the elasticated waistband over each of his hips. "Lift your bum, David." He lifted his bottom and we pulled his briefs down and off, before standing back to survey his young, soft dick and jet black bush. He looked resolutely at the ceiling.
James reached into a drawer in the sideboard and withdrew a silver pair of scissors. "Since you've been so childish, I'm going to cut off your pubic hair," he said.
"Oh no, dad, please!"
James started to cut off the bush, taking absolutely no notice. I observed that after a while David was starting to sweat.
When James had cut off most of the hair, he went back to the sideboad and returned with some spray foam, which he squirted liberally on David's remaining pubic hair and penis. "Oh DAD!" David moaned as James started to massage the foam onto his dick, balls and bush. His dick started to expand quite quickly and soon was a solid six inches.
James went to the kitchen and returned with a razor and a bowl of warm water, with a cloth in it. He carefully shaved everything, then rinsed the remaining foam off. David was still hard and now smooth as a small child.
"Kneel on the pillows, knees spread, head down, arse up."
David obeyed, his arsecheeks opening to reveal his anus. There was a little hair there. James sprayed and played, then shaved and rinsed.
"Climb off."
David, half-hard now, climbed down. His father removed the towel and dried his son thoroughly. By the time he had finished, David was hard again.
James had James bend forward across the table, legs apart and hold the other side. He eased a pillow between David and the table edge, then he started to hand spank.
After a while he asked me to continue. By now, David was definitely not enjoying himself. His bottom was shining red and he was writhing and yelling.
Eventually, we stopped and stood back and admired our handiwork. David was then sent to stand in the corner, side-on to us. We could see his red flank and his penis, which went very hard all over again.
... ...