Steven and Troy Part 2:
Troy Takes a Tour (and Then a Trip)
(This story takes place about a week after Steven and Troy part 1)
Does your job involve paperwork? If it does, then you probably understand why I was so happy to hear a tapping at my door on this particular evening. I was even happier when I looked up and saw Troy’s shaggy blond head peaking around my doorframe.
"Am I interupting something?" he asked.
"Yes, fortunately. I was going crazy with all this."
"What’re you doing?"
"How much do you know about sales growth, monthly budgeting, projected sales, and cycle sheets?"
He looked at me for a moment like I’d been speaking in tongues, then shrugged.
"Nothing I guess."
"Well, you may have to learn about them one day, but for now, I need a break. C’mon in."
Troy walked slowly over to my desk, his head craning around as he tried to take in my office. The furniture is pretty basic, and stays pretty much the same, but I change the décor on a fairly regular basis. (Well, once or twice a year, anyway.) Last year, I’d decorated in early-American Godzilla (posters, toys, a statue with a neon tube for his ‘breath’, and a 6’ tall inflatable in the corner). Considering the way Troy was looking around, he was either a fan, or I’d started to scare him. (He was a fan.)
He sat down in front of my desk and we chatted for a few minutes; yet, the entire time, he seemed a little uncomfortable. I wasn’t sure if he was just shy, maybe thinking about asking for something (and I was hoping he was going to follow up on our last conversation), or if he just felt weird coming to visit a grown-up. After a few minutes, he did seem to start relaxing a bit, slipping into the easy camaraderie we’d shared the week before, when I took him and his brother home. When he finally seemed more comfortable, I started feeling that way, too.
"I’m glad to see you, Troy; but, it seems a bit early for you to have missed your bus again."
As I said before, Troy’s very fair-skinned and his blush was very evident.
"When you took us home last week, you were talking about your store, and I’ve never been in here before, and Steven wanted to play Runescape again, and I’ve been to the store by the movies and the one at the mall but never this one, so I came over with him, but I didn’t really feel like going to the library, and …" he trailed off, more like he’s just ran out of steam (or maybe just breath), than he’d actually finished what he was saying.
"So you thought you’d come say ‘hi’ and check out the store?"
"Yeah."
"Well, did you already look around or would you like a tour?"
"I’d like a tour, if you don’t mind."
So polite. What a little sweetheart, even if he wasn’t cute as a button quail.
"Nope, I’d be happy for the break. Let’s go look at the store."
Despite what the occasional elementary school class seems to think, touring a comic store is not like touring an electrical power plant or a factory. For the most part, things are pretty obvious. For instance, I didn’t really have to say, ‘This is the video section’ or ‘These are the new comics’ for Troy to figure that out. Instead, I pointed out why we had things where they were and some of the things I liked best. He was very excited to see our loaner section, and couldn’t understand why a bookstore would let people borrow books, until I pointed out that each book we loaned was very carefully selected to first be a fine example of literature, and then to be part of a series. That means, while I’ve had to replace some of the books as they fall apart from excessive reading or not been returned, I’ve increased my sales on those series a lot over the years. Troy really seemed fascinated by details like that.
I spent my time and showed him the backroom, but it still didn’t take too long to go through the place. I could tell he wanted to go back and look at things, but I led him up the stairs. I showed him how we had the game rooms laid out, then we returned to my office.
"I’ve still got some work to do tonight, but would you like to go get a bite to eat?"
"I don’t have any money," he told me.
"That’s okay. You’ll be my guest tonight." I paused. "If you’re hungry?"
"Yeah! Thanks." Like I’ve ever known a teenage boy who wasn’t hungry.
"I need to get a few things organized here. Do you mind waiting a couple of minutes?"
He assured me he didn’t, then, trying to act like it had just come to me, I said, "Do you remember our conversation the other night?"
He shrugged. "I guess so. What part?"
"What was the main thing we talked about, Troy?"
"I dunno." Then he looked down at the book I’d lent him. "Books?"
"We spoke of books, but I hardly thing that was the main thing, Troy. Now quit playing around."
He started to blush and looked down at his hands, but clearly said, "Spankings?"
"Right. I told you that I spanked my boys mostly with paddles, but did I tell you that I keep some up here, in case I need them?"
He shook his head.
"I’ve got a whole drawer-full here. Would you like to look at them?"
His blush darkened, but he nodded.
I pulled the paddle drawer loose from my desk and walked it over to him, sitting it next to him on the couch. He looked into the drawer, then looked at me. Feigning indifference, I went back to my desk and spent a few minutes organizing paperwork, but watching Troy from the corner of my eye.
Troy very carefully removed each paddle from the drawer and examined it. You could tell he was testing the heft of each of them. Some of them he patted against his hand. Other’s he patted against his leg. At that time, the drawer held copies of everything from Mr. Spanky to Red. I also had toys meant for young adults, like a school-type ‘Board of Education’, as well as things I wouldn’t generally use on kids, like a 3-tailed mini-tawse, an 18" long, 2" wide leather paddle, and a larger leather paddle. The only things that arguably should have been in the drawer but weren’t, were a belt, a hairbrush, and a bath brush. The two brushes were both in the private bathroom attached to my office (the existence of it and it’s shower were the main reason I’d taken this office, when I’d had the game rooms built), and a belt, since I was almost never without one.
After watching his rapt examination for a few minutes, I went reluctantly back to my paperwork. After a bit, my attention was caught by a muted, ‘Wow!’, then a slightly louder, ‘You use all these?’
"To tell you the truth, Troy… No." I have used a lot of them, though. "Like this one," I said, picking up Mr. Spanky," is for my younger kids. I’ve been using this one, or one like it, for about 13 years now."
"Oh, yeah. I forgot how many kids you got."
"Now this one," I said as I picked up the holey paddle, "is made for kids about your size," he blushed a bit at the reference to his small stature, "when they are having some serious behavior problems. I don’t usually have to deal with those up here, but I like to have it around, just as a reminder."
"Who’s this one for?" he asked, picking up the school paddle.
"I brought that up here for an employee who was having a lot of trouble behaving without his dad around - in school as well as work. He really wanted to keep the job, and asked for some correction that didn’t involve firing him." Which was true, as far as it went. I just didn't mention the other occasions it had been used up here.
"Without his dad around…? You mean he was a college student? And he let you spank him?"
"Not really spank. It was paddlings like they give it school. But yes, he knew he’d screwed up and needed to face consequences. He ended up graduating in the top ten percent of his class."
"Wow, that’s what Steven needs."
"Really? What are your grades like?"
He blushed again. I do so love blonds.
"They’re okay."
"Good. I think y’all have report cards coming out Thursday. Why don’t you bring yours by, and we’ll see how good it is." He blanched a bit, letting me know it wasn’t as good as he’d hoped to present.
"Anyway, that’s for later. For now, which one do you want?"
"You’re going to give me one?"
"No, I’m going to use one on you."
"You’re going to spank me?" he asked, sounding incredulous.
"Didn’t you tell me last time that you needed one? And you said what I gave you didn’t sting at all, didn’t you?"
"Yeah…" he admitted hesitantly.
"You knew I spank my boys with a paddle when they need it, didn’t you?"
"Yes, sir," he replied a little more quickly.
"And I’m pretty sure you told me that, next time, I should get your jeans and shorts out of the way to make sure I did a good job, didn’t you?"
Actually, that wasn't exactly what had been said, but he didn’t seem to argue.
"Yes, sir."
"Troy," I asked him, "you might have wanted to see the store, but I think you came here today, beause your conscience is bothering you about something, and you need a spanking. Am I right?"
That’s really not what I thought, but I wasn’t going to ask the boy if he was a spanko, or if his dick had gotten hard, looking at the implements. I was giving him an out. He could admit to it and get what he wanted, or he could just tell me I was wrong and leave. If I was wrong, I could apologize and we could probably even stay friends.
He looked down at his feet for a minute, then nodded. I guess I wasn’t wrong.
"Look at me, Troy." I said in my kindly, understanding voice.
He did.
"What do you want me to do?"
"Spank me."
"More detail, please. I like you, and I want us to be friends, so I want to give you what you want, not force you into something, or give you too much. Do you understand."
"Yes, sir. I like you, too. But I deserve to have my pants and shorts pulled down and get paddled over your lap. Is that what you mean?"
"That’s what I mean, kiddo. If I spank you though, it’s going to be a real spanking. Once I start, I won’t stop until I think you’ve had enough. Do you understand that?"
"Yes, sir. That’s what I need." He paused a minute and looked down at the table, then lifted Red. "This one." Since that’s the paddle I used on Ryan and Misha (and had just stopped using on Huck, but just started using on Barry) and since they were about the same size as Troy, even though they were several years younger, I thought it was a fine choice.
Before saying anything else, I stepped over to the spanking chair and moved it to it’s normal place in the center of the room, then sat in it. Then I spoke.
"Bring it here."
He walked hesitantly over to me. I think he was getting what he thought he wanted, but not really positive it was what he wanted. He handed me the paddle, and I laid it behind me on the coffee table.
"Lift your shirt, please."
"Why?"
"Troy, you quite literally asked for this. Therefore, we’re going to do this my way. If this is really what you think you need, then you need to mind me. If you don’t want to do that, then put the things back in the drawer and we can go eat. I like you, and I don’t mind helping you out, but I do have work to do. If you’re not sure, then go think about it and come back later."
"No," he said softly, then repeated it a bit more loudly, "no, I’m sure."
"Well?"
He looked at me blankly for a minute before he realized what I meant. He blushed again as his hands went to the hem of his t-shirt and pulled it up, exposing a lean, smooth, little belly, with just a little outward curve to it. I pushed his hands up a little higher, so I could see the lowest part of his chest, where he had absolutely no pectoral development -- his chest was flatter than his belly.
Troy flinched as I started to undo his belt, but he didn’t try to stop me as I pulled it apart and started on his jeans. I slid the zipper down, then popped the button loose, exposing the waistband of another pair of Joe Boxers, then a pair of yellow boxers with a big smiley face licking it’s lips. He didn’t do anything as his jeans slid down his legs, exposing hairless legs; but, when I reached for the waistband of his boxers, he started to panic.
"Move your hands now, Troy," I threatened him.
"Please," he begged, "can’t you pull ‘em down after I’m over your lap?"
"Embarrassment is part of the punishment, Troy." Then I paused for a second. "All right. You came to me asking for this. I guess that means I can let you off easy this time. Over you go."
He sighed in relief, meaning he must be very shy. Or, maybe it wasn’t just shyness that was his problem.
He had his shirt tucked up under his arms, and his jeans were baggy enough that they’d fallen around his ankles. Once he was over my lap, I had him lift himself up slightly, and put my hands on his back, then slid my fingers into his boxers and over his cheeks. Moving my hands to his hips, I shoved the boxers down to his knees.
Troy’s bottom was very nice and just as boyish and hairless as the rest of him. His cheeks were round and full and just had mild dimples to each side. I don’t want to say it was perfect, but it was very nice.
I ran my hand over his bottom, enjoy the soft, warm, firm flesh, then began the lecture.
"I don’t know why you feel that you need a spanking, Troy," though I had a pretty good idea that he wanted one more than he needed one. "Because of that, I’m not going to give you a real lecture. I just want you to understand that, when a boy can’t behave, he has to pay the consequences. The best way I’ve found for a boy to understand the consequences he’s getting is…"
Troy filled in the pause for me. "A sore butt?"
"You got it, mister."
I’d planned to paddle him, but I just couldn’t resist starting by hand. That little bottom looked so spankable, I just had to feel it.
I brought my hand smacking down on those pale little cheeks. Left and right, up and down, back and forth, catching his bottom, then his legs, until he was turning a nice rosy color. Troy did not exactly take his spanking bravely. He was quiet, and didn’t tense up, but he was squirming almost from the first swat. I have to admit, the squirming was very pleasant, and he didn’t try to get off my lap.
I’d started with my left hand resting on his hip, but because he was squirming so much that I wrapped my arm around his waist, just being careful that my hand stayed on his lower belly and didn’t stray lower. He never did squirm hard, though. It was more a constant writhing. Whatever it was, it became more pronounced as his bottom became redder and hotter, but he never did try to get off my lap.
When my hand was starting to get a real sting to it, I decided it was time for the next step.
"Is this what you were expecting, Troy?"
"I thought you were going to paddle me." From his voice, I could tell he wasn’t yet crying, but he sounded close.
"I still am. This was just the warm up. Is it too much to you?"
He thought a minute before answering. "I don’t think so."
"Good." I reached behind me and picked up the paddle. The paddle on his already warm, stinging bottom got his attention quickly. I balanced his age and the fact that he had asked for this against his size and the fact that I’d already warmed him up and decided just what he needed. His bottom wasn’t real big, but he was big enough for a three-down pattern.
One, two, three down the center of his cheeks, then four down each cheek, back and fourth. Down the center, then a couple of swats on each cheek. Back to the middle, then four on each leg, two to the inside and two more to the outside.
The first three had him squirming harder. Then, as the swats came down on each cheek, he finally started to yelp. I was only planning to give him one covering and he was nearly 16, so the swats were maybe a little harder than I would usually give them, but not much. I’m sure you can imagine how the sting was building by now, and as I came back to his crack for the third time, the yelps became sobs. By the time I finished his legs, he was almost, but not quite, crying.
"You had enough yet, kiddo, or do we need to go another round?"
"No, sir," he sniffed, "I think that’s enough."
"Okay, hop up."
Troy slowly climbed to his feet, but as soon as he was off my lap, he yanked his shirt down to cover himself. I smiled, because even with the shirt down, you could see a little tent there. I smiled to myself, then turned away, so he could pretend I didn’t know what was happening.
"Usually, I wouldn’t stop a spanking until the boy was having a good, hard cry. And usually, I would make a naughty boy go to the corner after his spanking. Obviously I skipped one of those today, and I’m going to skip the other one, too. If we have to do this again, we won’t skip either. Understand?"
"Yes, sir," he nodded.
"Good. For now, why don’t you go on to the bathroom. Wash your face, get some water, and whatever. I’ll finish my paperwork."
I guess that it had been just what Troy needed. It only took him a couple of minutes in the bathroom, before he came out with his clothes back in place, and a very satisfied look on his clean, damp face. Either his pants were baggy enough to hide it, or he’d managed to do something with the tent, too.
He'd never eaten at our grill before, and he enjoyed it very much, except for a little apparent discomfort from sitting. He left not long after we ate, but it wasn’t long until he came back.