📍Show all the stories by 12Obey || 0字

Show all the stories by 12Obey


The young boy had been nagging me seemingly forever to let him wash my classic cars (I have a few, OK it’s six). Every time I was in the village to get a paper or fill one of the cars up he would appear as if by magic, looking longingly at the car asking questions about it, and trying to get invited in for a ride.

Now I am wary of the law and I thought, no way son, I’m not getting involved with you; it’s a short step to blackmail these days if you are a single male and not chasing women.

He kept on though, eventually saying he would clean my cars for free. That is tempting as these things can take a lot of time and effort, but he looked so young 13 or 14 I guessed. So I said not until he was 16, and then only if his parents said it was OK.

Fine he said, his16th birthday was only 2 months away and he claimed his parents would be glad to have him out of the way for at least part of the weekend rather than moping around at home.

Being naturally sceptical I wanted proof of his age, this got him angry as he was fed up with being taken as much younger, but I stuck to my guns; no proof, no deal. So he showed me his school pass (yes, security even at school now), which showed his name, John Taylor, his photo, and his date of birth, so he really was almost 16 – amazing. I said he could clean the cars but I would pay him £5 per car, as I was not a slave driver.

After 2 months John duly turned up at my door at 11.00am one Saturday morning dressed in cream cargo shorts, grey trainers, short white socks, and a loose fitting red sports T-top. He was holding a roughly scribbled note from his father saying he could work for me, he was grinning from ear to ear and eager to touch and be near the cars. I just had to admire his enthusiasm. I put him to work washing the exterior of one of my collection after demonstrating how to correctly use the wash mitt, leather, etc.

I kept an eye on him as he worked and we fell to chatting, as you do. Turned out that he lived in the rougher part of the village and his parents spent most of their leisure time in varying states of inebriation. He was very much ignored and left to his own devices, unless he irritated them, in which case his father (and sometimes his mother) would hit out at him. He said he had taken to running out of the house on these occasions and that when he returned they had usually forgotten all about it. A bit of a feral child then, though to look at him you would not think butter would melt in his mouth.

After he had finished the car I asked him whether he had any friends he hung around with, he shifted awkwardly and said, “No, not really, I look too young to hang with the kids my age from School, and the younger kids parents tell them to avoid me as I have a reputation for getting in trouble”.

“What kind of trouble” I asked.

“You know” he said.

“No I don’t, tell me”.

“I get bored and fed up so I kind of bust things up”. “What kind of things” I asked. “You know, phone boxes, benches, stuff like that,” he said. I began to wonder if letting him near the cars was such a good idea!

“Well, you had better stop that behaviour right now. If I hear any reports about you causing bother again I will ban you from helping out here”, that made him stop what he was doing. “You wouldn’t, would you?” he said.

“Oh yes I would, I’m not having a vandal even remotely associated with my car collection, in fact, right now, I am not sure I want you back after today”. “Oh no, please, please give me a chance. I won’t cause trouble, and I won’t let you down” he said. I could see he was earnest, but I wondered how long that would last.

“Your trouble young man is that you have been allowed to run wild for too long, you probably rely on your young looks to get away with things too”, he looked nervously at his feet when I said this. “Well, I will do you a deal young John, you can keep coming here to help but you will stay out of trouble outside, and you will answer to me for anything you do wrong here”.

“It’s OK I’ll keep out of bother, and I’ll do anything you say so long as I can be with the cars” he said.

“You may well come to regret that comment” I said, “we need to establish some ground rules here, it’s time you learnt about rules and limits”.

I made him agree to turn up at a prescribed time each week; he was to be dressed in shorts and T-top just as he was that day. He agreed that as a sign of respect he should address me as “Sir” and he was not to touch any of the cars without express instructions. That’s quite a lot of detail for a 16 year old to take in (and, of course, I secretly hoped he would trip up).

Finally I hit him with the crunch, “if you fail to keep to our agreement I will punish you in a manner that befits your apparent age”.

“What does that mean?” he asked.

“It means that I will spank you, just as I would a 13 year old”.

“But I’m not 13, I’m 16. That’s not fair!”

“You hide behind your babyish looks to get you out of trouble so it’s only fair that you pay for your mistakes in keeping with your looks” I said. “Besides, that’s the only deal I’m offering. Do you accept?”

He went red and shuffled from foot to foot, eventually “Yeah, I suppose so”.

“Don’t you mean, “Yes Sir”?” I replied sharply.

“Yes Sir!”

“Good, now that we have settled that you had better come into the house and we can finish up for today”

He followed me inside to the kitchen no doubt expecting his £5 pay for the car he had washed. I sat down on a wheel-backed chair and looked John straight in the eye “you’d better come over here then and we can get started”.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you have already failed to address me as Sir once, and that makes twice”.

“But that’s not fair!”

“And that makes three times young man, now COME OVER HERE!”

He shuffled across to my side. I curved my hand round the back of his knee and, gently stroking up an down his lower thigh, I said, “you know, you really need to learn to stick to the rules and learn to act more responsibly, don’t you?”

“Yes Sir” he replied.

“That’s better, now lift your shirt up a moment”. As he did so I reached over and unclasped the button on the top of his shorts, he breathed in sharply and looked pleadingly at me, “I did say you would be punished as if you were 13” I said and then, unzipping his fly, I lowered his shorts down to his knees and let them drop to his ankles. He went bright red but kept quiet. Good I thought, he’s learning fast.

He wore blue patterned boxer shorts and, as I gently pulled him over my knees these pulled tight across his pert little bottom. What a very pleasing target, I thought. I gently smoothed the material of the boxers with my hand in a circular motion and said, “one more thing on the rules front, in future I want you to wear white cotton briefs not boxers, understood?” “Yes Sir” he said.

I then began to slowly and, relatively gently at first, spank his bottom. I moved the strike area around to cover all of his bottom and gradually increased the force, spanking slowly with a blow every 1 or 2 seconds. Every so often I halted the spanking for a minute or so and talked to him about how important it was to learn to behave and be responsible. His promises and affirmations gradually became more earnest and he started to wriggle and squirm a little, and then a lot.

After about 25 minutes of this attention I stopped and told him to stand up, as he did so I made him put his hands on his head and I turned him round so that his bottom faced me. I lifted his shirt and put my fingers in the waistband of his boxers, “oh nooo, pleeease!” he said.

“It’s OK, I’m just checking my handiwork” I said, as I lowered his boxers to his knees revealing an evenly pink peach-like bottom. I placed my hands on his cheeks and gently stroked them, “ahh, mmm” he said. “Does that feel better?” I asked. “Ooh yes” he replied.

I kneaded his buttocks for a little while and then gently parted them to see his almost hairless little rosebud of an anus. As I kneaded his buttocks, I deliberately stroked my thumbs into his crack and brushed them gently against his hole, it puckered and he responded “ahh, ooh, mmm” as I teased the nerve endings. All the while he was unconsciously arching his lower back and pushing his bum towards me.

I stopped suddenly and with a swift slap to his bum I said, “Debt paid for today young man”. He seemed at a loss for a moment, but swiftly recovered and pulled his boxers and shorts back up.

I paid him his £5 and arranged for him to come round the following Saturday at 10.00am to clean two cars. “And don’t forget to dress properly” I said, “Yes Sir” he replied. He seemed quite upbeat as he disappeared out of the gate on his way home.

Now, I wonder what he will forget by next week.