LARRY - 3 Lay Offs at the Mill


by Cal <100622.2517@CompuServe.COM>

As you might imagine, the rest of the afternoon as we hiked and returned was rather quiet, almost solemn. Once Larry settled down from his spanking, we had hiked on. Don and I talked, but Larry said nothing for an hour or so. Then when he did talk a bit, he didn't say much.

"I'm sorry I acted like that back there," he finally said.

"I'm sorry too." I added. "But do it again and you'll find your pants will come down and you'll be spanked again."

"I know that now." He replied. "Sir." He added quickly.

Although I was not convinced it was the best idea, he stayed at my place that night. He had pleaded long and hard, and I finally gave in. Besides he'd argued that after that afternoon, he couldn't go home to face the music there as well. Although I felt it was his Dad's choice if he wanted to whip him or not, regardless of the spanking I'd laid on his bare bottom. Still, for me to force him to return home where I knew he'd certainly be strapped because of his step mother's anger for no reason, didn't seem fair either. I gave in, endearing him to me, but I made him call his father and tell him where he was. His father didn't care about his returning home anyway. It was obviously in watching him that his bottom was hurting him. Every time he went to sit down that night he flinched!

In fact, Larry stayed several days. If nothing else it gave me the chance to get to know him better than I had in the past. Larry seemed eager to get a lot off his chest those evenings while we sat on the porch and talked long into the night. The guy could melt me with his charm and smile. And, he was handsome in a very masculine way, especially with his shirt off lounging on the couch. He seemed far more mature than his actual age. He was clean, neat and no problem. Actually he was great company. The kind of boy any family would be proud to have.

Still, watching him stripped to the waist mowing the lawn, his muscled chest all sweaty, or just sitting around at night with his back against the porch rail and his left leg propped up casually in a way causing his Levi's to restrict even more tightly than usual, with his basket bulge real promisingly, his nieve teenage _s_e_x_uality was very attractive. He seemed not to know it.

I had no doubts about the feelings I'd had spanking his bare ass that afternoon in the woods! It was a good memory. I'd like a reason to spank him again; but at home here where I could take my time and enjoy stripping him more slowly and watching his ass wiggling more personally and privately across my legs.

I sensed Larry knew things had taken a big turn in those woods. He knew I wouldn't hesitate to do it again. Thus, he seemed more guarded, more cautious around me in some ways. Still he was basically just a young teenage kid still in high school. He had his whole future before him. I knew I enjoyed a scene he had no idea even existed and I wanted to keep it that way.

Nevertheless, watching Larry around the house, I became convinced his old man was right. The boy did need a spanking now and then and he was "asking for it" in subtle ways even if he didn't recognize it in himself. He lacked focus and confidence. What I'd really wanted was to find some way to get over this hurdle with Larry. Some reason he'd accept my decisions to spank him whenever I wanted, without a reason simply because it was good for him. How to get him to that point where I could simply strip and spank him anytime and leave it at that? I'd not found the key, but I was convinced I would.

Paul took a back seat when Larry was around and I found myself thinking lots of things through. My basic problem was I was not the brotherly type and knew I had no interest in just having a younger border around, no matter how appealing and good company he was proving to be. I'm too mobile; the business, too demanding; and I don't want anything or anyone tying me down. Seeing him stretched out on the couch doing homework, I knew that no matter how appealing I didn't want someone around who was _s_e_x_y enough to keep the tension always there, but too young and nieve to make it work. I knew I preferred Paul, who I could strip and discipline whenever I got the urge to without a reason and with no strings attached.

Larry moved back and forth between my place and his father's, but over the weeks that passed, he was at mine most of the time. When not in school, he worked at the odd jobs, mostly yard work, I got him, or hit the books. There was nothing he ever did, however, that ever got in my way nor provided a cause to spank him again. Believe me, I was looking for some excuse to turn him sunnyside up. I thought about just doing it. Hell, I owed him nothing. But I didn't. I would wait for the right reason.

Then the Mill suffered another setback when the young environmentalists won the right to postpone harvesting a large forest area up country. I saw the news in the morning paper. A few hundred would lose their jobs over the next weeks. Most people here knew at least someone who worked there and thus all of us were holding our breath for one friend or another. I thought of Larry's father who I knew was already struggling on twenty hours a week and depending heavily on the extra money Larry made and gave to him each week. He survived the first cut that next Monday. Unfortunately two weeks later, his luck ran out.

I hadn't expected Larry that weekend, but at about one in the morning, I heard the key in the front door. I met him downstairs as he was hanging his leather jacket in the front closet. He seemed surprised to see me standing there.

"Ah, sorry, I wanted to slip in quietly and not wake you." He said.

Even from a distance with only a single dim light switched on in the front hall, I knew something was wrong. He had never come without asking before. His always clean white T-shirt had lines of dirt across the stomach area and it was hanging out over his Levi's rather sloppily, something I had never seen before.

"If you're awake anyway, could I talk to you?" He had asked. "Could I make myself a drink first?"

"Sure." Now I knew something was wrong. Larry almost never drank, but tonight he was pouring two jiggers of rum into a small glass which he then filled with ice and Coke from the refrigerator. "Make me one too," I suggested, "But not so strong."

"Oh, sorry," He seemed not to know what he was doing.

"No, it's O. K."

Then he sat down at the kitchen table and took a huge gulp of his drink, dropped his head on his hands.

"What's wrong?" I put my hand on his arm to comfort him.

He looked up. "Dad lost his job this afternoon!"

"I'm sorry." And I meant it.

"It's getting worse, not better. Between his wife always picking at me, those bratty kids screaming, and my trying my best to earn enough to help make ends meet, now this! Why, for God's sake?" He looked at me. "I can't take it much more."

"What do you mean?" I was not sure I was following.

"I went home after work like always on Friday to give Dad the money I'd earned this week. You know how hard I work for that money? I only kept what I needed for gas. I didn't know anything about the Mill's lay offs this afternoon. I hadn't heard the radio today because after school I went directly to McGuire's place and spent the whole time digging ditches for the fencing I'm putting in for him tomorrow. You know I don't hold anything back, don't you?"

"Yes." I did.

"Well, when I walked in they were all in the kitchen and the place was a total mess. Dishes were everywhere, the kids were running around, and his wife was yelling at him about how she didn't have any money and how did he expect her to put food on the table. I started to turn to leave, but she saw me. And she yelled at me, 'And just what does your smart son do to help us?' She screamed my way, 'All he does is go to that stupid school which ain't no good anyway cause he'll never amount to anything anyway and walk around all pretty like talking to the girls'."

I could see Dad had been drinking. I ignored her and sat down beside him.

"Something happen?" I said while I took the money McGuire gave me for the week and gave it to him in an envelope.

"I lost my job, Son." Dad said.

But she grabbed the envelope and was counting it out there on the table and screaming, "Yea, that's right, your father lost his _d_a_m_n_ed job today and all you bring home is $367! What you do with the rest of it? Huh, Boy? Spent it all on more tight jeans and boots to make you more _s_e_x_y for the girls? Huh? That what you did with it?"

"It's all I got this week, Dad?" I tried to talk to him, but she kept cutting in.

"Oh, yea, and like you think I believe that _c_o_c_k_ and bull story? Look at him." She said to Dad. "Just look at him. Now just why does a boy his age always dress so clean and neat like in those tight T-shirts and jeans all the time? Other kids don't dress like that, now do they? Hell, no, of course they don't. I'll just bet you spent it on cloths or some girl. Or. . ." She sneered at me as if she had been saving it up for a long time inside her hate. "Just bet you dress like that cause you got some rich old ladies over in town who like to play with a young stud with a body like you got. You selling it boy? Someone stripping you down and _f_u_c_k_ing you, you Bastard."

"Dad! Shut her up. It ain't true! I give you it all!"

But I could tell the way Dad looked at me that maybe he wasn't so sure with what she was saying.

She just kept it up! "Hell, my cousin told me she was driving past that McGuire place last Tuesday about five thirty and saw you coming out of their front door with your shirt off and swinging it in your hand while that old lady was standing in the doorway looking. Millie says to me that you sure looked guilty to her with your chest all sweaty and smiling like. You're selling it, aren't ya? You're nothing but a _f_u_c_k_ing gigolo, aren't you, you Bastard!"

"That true, Son?" Dad stood up from the table. "You _f_u_c_k_ing that McGuire lady?"

"Of course not! I'm digging the ditches to build their back yard fence. That's all."

"Then why," Dad asked, "you coming out her place with your shirt in your hand like Millie says?"

"She gave me some ice tea in her kitchen. It was hot out! That's all! Just because I had my shirt off don't mean. . .." She cut me off.

"Oh, sure." She added. "Pant's unbuttoned too because it was so hot inside yet? Believe that and I'll sell ya. . ."

"Shut up!" Dad cut her off cold. "I'll handle this." He was angry, drunk, and the kids were still screaming in the kitchen and running all around. "Ain't no boy of mine gonna' do such things. You and I gonna visit the shed out back and I'm gonn'a take care of this right now." He grabbed me by the arm and shoved me toward the kitchen door. He was drunk enough that I could have gotten away, but he's my father. I can't do that.

"I'm coming too." She yelled.

And Dad had me by the arm and was pulling me along but she was following us down to the shed. Dad shoved me inside and told me to pull down my pants and shorts all the way down to the top of my boots. What could I do? So I did it, and when I was bare, there she was standing looking me over real good like. It was embarrassing as Hell, but I didn't have long to wait. He forced me to bend over the bench, my ass up in the air all ready for him. I'd been through this before, but he was drunk enough that I didn't think it would hurt much anyway this time. I tried to object to her being there right next to me and looking my ass over like that an all, but he ignored me. He was too busy hunting around to find his strap. Then I felt her hand slipping under me and feeling my _c_o_c_k_ up real well, just holding it and caressing it like. Her other hand was going over my ass real intimately like. I felt real strange but like I couldn't do anything about it and just had to let her feel me up. I'd never felt a woman do that before like that what with her being not that much older than me and all, and I sort of yelled at her. But . . . like I don't know what it was but knowing she was doing it to me, feeling me up real well, and just knowing any minute I was going to feel that strap whipping on my ass just did something to me and I started to get hard in her hand regardless of myself! She noticed it too.

"See, I told you so!" She screamed at me. "Look at him."

Dad had found his strap and whirled around and grabbed me and turned me around so I was standing there, my ass against the work bench, but real erect the way her hand had been on me. I felt the fingers of her other hand trying to worm their way around my ass and one of them trying to enter me. She was standing right beside me, holding me up for Dad to see how erect I was, letting him see me like that. I don't think Dad could tell what else she was doing, but the way she was doing it and the whole scene in the shed, I was hard as a rock. One of her finger started getting inside of me, like you know how the doctor does some times? But this was different. I'd never felt hot and turned on like that before and knowing he was gonna whip me with her watching and all.

I wanted to knock her down, knock her away, but she's my step mother and I can't do that, so I just flipped and yelled in her face, "Stop doing that, you Bitch?"

Dad was on me in a flash, flipping me over the bench and strapping the Hell out of me.

"Don't you ever talk to her like that!" He yelled.

When he was strapping me. She was still grabbing my _c_o_c_k_, feeling me, and sticking her finger up me when she could. I just felt real different. Maybe it even felt good? Dad tried his best to whip me hard, especially when he noticed I was still hard. But he was just too drunk and raging to strap me. He missed my ass most of the time. And she was just there laughing at him, telling he was such a failure he couldn't even whip me, working her finger in and out of my ass. I don't know what happened but I just pushed her, hard like. I know I shouldn't have, but I did. And I grabbed my pants up and ran out of there with the both of them yelling after me to stop. I came here."

He was crying on the table now. "What am I going to do, Cal? I gave him all I had, _d_a_m_n_ her anyway! I can't go back there again. Hell kill me!"

"Stay here a few days 'til things calm down at home." I said, my arm now around his shoulder as he cried it all out.

He stayed the weekend. He wasn't physically hurt at all. The Old Man had been too drunk to strap him, but emotionally he was a wreck. I tried to be as supportive as I could. Larry had a lot going for him. He was conservative, cautious about life, and full of plans to make something out of himself. He didn't seem to know how _s_e_x_y his body really was, nor understand any of his step mother's suspicions. He just talked a lot, cried a lot, and hung around my place when he wasn't working. I knew there was nothing to the McGuire accusations. Mrs. McGuire was one of those naturally nice people who always offered him something to eat when he was finished and neither he nor she would have thought for a moment about whether he had his shirt on or not. When he worked he never wore it anyway. That's how he kept it so clean.

Several times over the weekend he talked about how he felt when his step mother was feeling him. He never considered her a "mother" in any sense, and wasn't worried about that. Rather he was sure maybe something was wrong with him because he'd become turned on. I kept assuring him he was normal. _s_h_i_t_! In a scene like that I knew lots of guys who would have gotten hard (and enjoyed it as well).

As he talked it through over and over again and I picked up more details from him. I couldn't help thinking of my own friend, Kathy, or "Mistress Cassandra" as she called herself. Kathy was a truly beautiful blond business woman in the city who referred to herself as a "dominant lady" and who I was sure would have given anything to have been in that position with a young naked stud as well built as Larry was, but she'd have done more than just finger him, I knew for a fact, and if the old man hadn't done a proper job of strapping his ass in a long, but hard, sensual way, she'd have strapped his ass herself. And very well at that! She would have fingered his ass in ways that as she was strapping it; he wouldn't have just gotten hard. He'd have cum! The young stud forced to strip and standing naked there, the older man about to strap his bare ass, and the young woman fingering and playing with it. What a scene that could have been! The thought made me smile, but there was no way I could tell Larry why I was smiling.

I don't know why it is that young guys in more rural areas always seem so unaware of some of the more sensual aspects of life. Maybe some day when Kathy came out from the city with her live-in, I'd have Larry come by for a cup of coffee. Just to watch her go wild. I knew she'd like him. She couldn't help but like him!

No, Larry was perfectly normal and I assured him over and over again of that fact. His getting hard proved it! Finally he seemed to believe me and got off the topic.

By Monday he was calm enough to go to school, but I told him he could stay for a while if he really thought he needed to. He did and I forgot about it. He was mature enough in most ways to get through this one, I was sure.

He was still there on Friday and called his Dad to ask if he could stay over longer. The old man agreed.

The following Friday night, however, the old man was knocking on my front door. He looked like he had aged a century or so since I had last seen him. His cloths were dirty and torn.

"Could I come in a talk a moment?" He asked when I opened the door. I was pretty sure he'd come to take Larry home, but not at all sure as to how Larry would react to that.

"Of course, of course. Come on in." I opened the door for him and he entered cautiously, looking around, and finally asked if we could just sit in the kitchen and talk.

"I'm gonna ask you a favor that I know I ain't got no right even thinking about, but I gotta ask it anyway. OK?"

I was making some coffee.

"OK."

"I kind'a guess you might know my Misses and Larry don't get along none too kindly, you know?"

I nodded.

"Even since-ing I got cut back at the Mill things ain't gone well. When I got laid off, things got worse. Can't make ends meet. The Misses and me, well, we're fixing to go further up north where-en she got some relatives and stuff. Ain't no work here no more. But the Misses, well, she ain't good for my son, won't have him, and I can't have him around no more. Would you take him?"

I listened but was surprised. Shocked was more like it!

"I can't control my boy anymore and I can't have him around her and the kids. But you're good for him and I'd like you to have him."

He went on to tell me his side of the story of the past Friday evening. He said he had wondered for a while about what kind of trouble a kid that good looking and with a body like that on him was getting into. When his wife had told him what her cousin had saw at McGuire's place, he said it had confirmed his own suspicions. He said he thought he could "still just beat it out of him," but he said when he tried that night he knew he was just too old and too tired to care anymore.

He said he had seen her trying to play with him that night just before he was starting to whip him and he said he knew how she'd turned the boy on. Yes, he said he'd know she was goosing his ass and thought probably they'd both have liked it more if he'd just strapped him pretending to ignore she was fingering him a little. Made him wonder what she does with him when he ain't around?

"I can tell the kid's got a good ass on him, and I ain't too old to know what it's for." He smiled. "It's probably the boy's best asset so why the hell shouldn't he sell it and get some money and pleasure out of it while he can for humping those old broads? I don't blame him one bit. But, not with her."

He looked at me, smiled, and went on as I listened knowing Larry was doing no such thing.

"Hell, I used to be young once myself and I didn't always look like I do now. The boy's nothing but a young stud and won't never amount to more, but I couldn't let 'em do it. I got to get rid of him. I've been thinking about things and would be much appreciative if-en you'd let me make you his legal guardian or whatever it's called. I don't want him around anymore, ever."

"The boy respects you. Will you please take him off my hands?"

I poured a second cup of coffee for the both of us. It was hard to believe his father was saying any of this about his own son, but the guy seemed up front about it all and convinced. He hadn't seen Larry since that evening nor told him about his plans to move or any of this. It was too complicated for a quick discussion that was for sure.

After about two hours Larry walked in, using his key in the front door and found the two of us sitting there talking.

"Tell him why you're here." I said to the father as Larry sat down still with his leather jacket on.

When I saw that the father was starting to talk to him, I left the kitchen shutting the door behind me and went into the living room to think. Was it possible that Larry wasn't completely innocent that night? Nah. About an hour or so later, the door swung open and they both came into the living room. Larry's eyes were red. I knew he'd been crying.

"Dad's told me he's leaving and I can't go with him. I hope you'll say I can stay with you." He seemed about to cry again. "I don't have anyplace else to go."

The three of us talked some more and the old man finally left with the promise to get the papers and return in a day or so. I didn't say yes; I didn't say no. I only said I'd ask my attorney what all would be involved.

After he left, Larry and I talked long into the night. He said he knew I didn't really want him and he'd understand if I said no, but would I please just think about it?

That I was willing to do.

Later that night as we were about to turn in, I asked him if he had any reservations at all about my being his guardian?

"No, not really." He replied. "I've always wanted a real Father," he said, "and although it's a bit late for me, I think you'd make a perfect one for me. You already help me out with most things and I can talk with you about anything. It might be the best thing that's ever happened to me." He turned to went to the spare bedroom where he had been sleeping all week.

Then about five minutes later, he walked into my room, naked now except for a heavy white towel wrapped very low around his waist. He sat down on the side of the bed looking more seductive than I'd seen him in a long time draped like that, his upper body and lower stomach muscles rippling and on private display there in the intimacy of my own bedroom. I found myself hoping he'd move a bit and that _d_a_m_n_ed towel would fall off or at least part more so I could see the rest of him! Talk about a body. I sat on the chair beside the bed staring. The towel held firm.

"Can I ask just one more question?" He asked.

"Of course."

"I guess if you become my guardian and all that, that means you're going to be the one to bring me up huh?"

"That's right."

"Well, like, I mean like, well, ah. . . are you going to whip me like from now on when you think I earned it?" He acted like he was a little scared and genuinely concerned at that thought.

"That's right."

"And, ah, it's going to be like at lot?"

"Well, I can't answer that, it depends on your behavior after all, now doesn't it."

He smiled, "Fair enough. Ah. So, like I guess I better get my act together real quick like, cause I already know how hard you can whip my ass, like much harder than my old man ever did."

"So, get your act together."

"I will," he stood and turned to leave, the towel hanging lowly over his ass. Then he turned back and put his arms around my shoulder. It was a manly hug, but one that I could tell for him contained real emotion.

As he hugged me in the privacy of my room there, the towel came unknotted and began to fall from his ass. It hung suspended there where his waist was in contact with mine.

The time seemed right.

I let my right hand slip down and softly gave his ass a few pats. Then I cupped it and let my hand remain there. I'd wanted to do this for such a long time. His cheek was firm, full, absolutely perfect! He tensed it. He was a boy, yet he had the body of a man.

He made no move at all. It was I who finally spoke.

"So," I said, feeling it freely. "Better get some sleep now and think a bit about getting your act together so I'm not forced to warm this up down here too often."

He pulled his head and chest back slightly and looked at me grinning.

"I sure hope you don't have to. . . at least not too often." He pulled completely back now and the towel dropped to the floor. As he bent to retrieve it, it realized this was the first time I had ever seen him without any cloths at all, but I had only a minute to look before the towel was wrapped tightly back in place and he started out the door.

"I really appreciate everything you have ever done to help me. Ah, _s_h_i_t_! I just want you to know that."

He disappeared out my door and into his room next door.

I shut my door, took off my own cloths, and jumped in bed. The feel of his ass, the heat from his body was still with me. Might be interesting to have a _s_e_x_y stud like that walking around the house, especially if he had a habit of parading around with just a towel on. I already knew what it was like to spank him and knew I'd do it again. He may be hoping it wouldn't be "too often," but I was already planning just how I would discipline him, the kinds of house rules I would set up in the next day or so. Couldn't take too long before a kid that young forgot one of them. I started anticipating the next day or so. The small leather paddle I kept for Paul was in a drawer down in the basement where I could get it in a hurry if I needed to.

Why wait for papers? I could already visualize how I'd do it. I would tell him to strip down to his jeans while standing nervously in front of me. Shoes and socks, too. Then I would be the one to reach up and unsnap those tight Levi's he always wore, watch them pop open, then pull them down carefully, and stretch him over my knee to spank him first on his cotton jockeys, and then to ultimately peal those down, so I could take his ass bare and hard. I could make a paddle or two, or better yet have him make them, for those nights when he needed a little extra, and where I would purchase a real strap. I thought about where I would punish him. In the bright lights on the living room, or in the bedroom, or in the basement? Maybe the garage? Or it might be interesting to have us build a shed out back for this purpose? It had to be a place where I could see his ass respond clearly and someplace where he could cry or yell if he needed to. But I and only I would be the one to whip it.

And, I already knew I could spank him often and without warning, any _d_a_m_n_ed time he needed it. That would be often. I'd bring him up right, that's for sure!

I wondered if he was the kind that sometimes just walked about naked? That could make it interesting. No reason why he should be ashamed of that body. Might actually help him become more self assured. And, it's sure be nice to have him studying his homework on the floor there before the TV, lying on his stomach with his little tight ass on display. Even better if it showed a few hand prints.

So, instead of sleeping, I wrote a few simple rules. I'd introduce them to him tomorrow. Why wait?

To Be Continued...


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