Naughty Boy Stories

Corner Time for Zac

By Zac Loughty

This is a story about adults, for adults only

I hope you like this story.  In this one, Sir and I have a man-to-boy talk.  Sir is disappointed with some of the comments I made in my story “Redemption: Chain Gang.”  He believes it’s best for me to serve some corner time.  If you’re only here for the sex part, feel free to skip to the end.

It’s Zac again, guys.  It’s been about a week since my chain gang experience at the Redemption facility.  Wow was that ever a head trip.  I wrote all about my experience under the title “Redemption - Chain Gang.”  At the end of the experience, a potassium deficiency really wiped me out.

Sir was so kind to me once He got me home from picking me up at Redemption.  He literally carried me up to the bathroom, stripped me of my shorts, and drew a nice, hot bath for me.  He even added bubbles!  Then He bathed me Himself.  It was so nice to be pampered like that.  After the bath, He toweled me off.  Then we went downstairs to get a light bite to eat.  Then it was up to the bedroom.  Sir had me lie on the bed and He gave me a nice massage to work all the kinks out of my muscles.  I thought Sir might be eager to use my boy hole, but He just wanted me to get some rest.

Sir kept up the massages this past week.  As we worked out on the weights together, he had me put special emphasis on certain muscle groups.  As we spent time together, He had me make a full report of my chain gang experience.  I told Him about all the times I thought of quitting.  I also told Him about everything I loved.  Sir listened carefully to every word I said.  He also read every word of “Redemption – Chain Gang.”  He's always trying to learn more about me.  He seeks to use that information to keep improving our relationship.

Then Sir said it was time for us to have a man-to-boy talk.  These talks are never a bad thing.  They’re used to improve the communication between us.  Although I still call Him Sir and He still calls me boy, these conversations are meant to me man-to-man.

“I have thought a lot about all you’ve told me about your experience on the chain gang,” Sir begins.  “I only have one concern.  If you ever feel that a situation is too much for you to handle, you must always feel safe in asking for help.  It might mean using a safe word, it might mean literally saying ‘Help’.  I promise you that I will never, ever, think any less of you if you need to ask for help in any situation.  I have much respect for Mark, who shared your chain gang experience with you.  He asked for help.  You all rallied around him to help him.  I’m very proud of you for stepping up and lending him a hand.  Do you feel Mark was weak for asking for help?”

“No, Sir,” I answer, “of course not.  He gave everything he had.  He simply didn’t feel he could give anymore.  We all covered for him so he could make it through the experience.”

“If Mark had used the safe word,” Sir asks, “would he have been a total failure?”

“No, Sir,” I reply, “he would have given it his best shot.  I guess if he felt he needed to stop due to a safety issue with his own health, stopping would be the best decision to make.”

“Would you have felt less of him for using the safe word?” Sir asks.

“No, Sir,” I reply, “that’s a decision that only Mark can make.  He alone knows the limits of his own body.  I would never want anyone to hurt themselves by ignoring the warning signs of their own body.”

“If Mark had used the safe word,” Sir questions, “should he feel embarrassed around you and the guys who didn’t?”

“No, Sir,” I reply, “it’s his own body.  If it’s telling him to stop, the only wise course of action is for him to use the safe word and stop.”

“If you had used the safe word after your body was screaming at you to stop after relentlessly sawing fence posts, or after shoveling many heavy shovelfuls of gravel or after swinging a sledgehammer for hours, would you be a total failure?” Sir asks sincerely.

Tears start welling up in my eyes.  “Um... I guess not, Sir,” I say reluctantly. “I guess I would have given it my best shot and I would just be listening to what my own body is trying to tell me.”

“Do you really believe I would feel any less respect for you for listening to your own body and calling it quits?” Sir asks.

Tears are rolling down my cheeks now.  “No, Sir,” I reply, “I guess you would trust me to make the right decision and listen to what my body is telling me.”

“If you had used the safe word,” Sir questions, “should you feel embarrassed around me and think that you shouldn’t look me in the eye?”

I’m full out bawling now.  “No, Sir,” I reply between sobs, “you would respect me for doing what is right and listening to what my body is trying to tell me.”

“Come here, boy,” Sir says, standing and stretching out his arms.

I stand and accept his embrace.  I wrap my arms around his strong back and I feel his powerful arms encircle me.

“I want you to remember this lesson, boy,” Sir says, “because it’s an important one.  I would be very disappointed with you if you put your health or safety in danger because you had too much pride to ask for help.”

“Yes, Sir,” I say, “I understand, Sir.”

“Sit down, boy,” Sir instructs.

We both sit back down.

“Jack, who works at Redemption is a great guy,” Sir begins.

“Yes, Sir,” I say, “I think so too.”

“When he saw you get out of the van, he noticed your face was completely white.  He was very concerned that you were about to faint.”

“Yes, Sir,” I say, wiping the tears from my face.  “I really felt awful.”

“Jack called in a code ‘yellow’,” Sir explains.  “That gets everyone’s attention.  A code ‘yellow’ means that 911 may need to be called.”

“Oh, geesh, Sir,” I say apologetically, “I never meant to cause so much trouble.”

“Luckily, they were able to get some potassium into your system and stabilize your condition,” Sir explains.  “Then Jack called me and told me I needed to come get you, which I did right away.”

“Oh, sorry, Sir,” I apologize, “I didn’t know what happened, Sir.”

“So, I want you to remember to ask for help when you need it next time, boy,” Sir instructs pointedly.  “Don’t wait for your body to override your stubborn pride.”

“No, Sir,” I agree, “I’ll ask for help sooner next time.  I’ll swallow my pride, Sir.”

“Now, boy,” Sir says, “I want you to understand that you’re not being punished.  But this is a very important lesson and I want you to give it some thought and really remember it.”

“Yes, Sir,” I reply, “I’ll remember, Sir.”

“So, I’m going to have you stand in the corner for one hour, boy,” Sir determines, “so you can stand there, without any distractions, and think about how important it is to ask for help when you need it.  Is that clear, boy?”

“Yes, Sir,” I say, “thank you for my corner time, Sir.”

“Okay, boy,” Sir says, “shut off and hand over your cell phone.”

I remove my cell phone from my pocket, turn it off, and hand it to Sir.  Sir doesn’t want me to be distracted when I’m in the corner.

“Okay, boy,” Sir says, “well you best get your nose in that corner then, boy.  I’ll go get the timer.”

“Yes, Sir,” I say as I rise to walk over to my corner.  

Sir has me serve my corner time in a corner where He has a direct line of sight from his recliner.  It’s easy for him to glance up and check on me.  When I’m serving corner time, I’m expected to keep my hands at my sides.  If I’ve been spanked, he doesn’t want me rubbing my ass; He likes to see my red boy butt anyway.  He also doesn’t want me fiddling with my nub cage.  I need to stand there, stare straight ahead to where the two corners meet, and think about the lesson I’ve just been taught.  He doesn’t want me falling asleep; He wants me thinking carefully.

Usually, my corner is occupied by a large plant.  The first thing I need to do when I get to my corner is move the plant out of the way.  Having to prepare my own corner to stand in really sends me deep into boy space.  Then I just need to step up to where the walls meet, put my hands down by my sides and stare straight ahead.  I’m also to keep at least one of my knees slightly bent so I don’t faint.  I need to trust that Sir will start the timer when I get into position.  I’m not to worry about the time or anything other than the lesson I’ve been taught.

I move the plant and take my position in the corner.  

“Good boy,” Sir says.  I assume he’s started the timer.  I hear him take a seat in his recliner.  He usually reads while I’m serving corner time, it’s easier for him to glance up at me while he’s reading.

I stand there and think about how worried Sir must have been to get a call from Jack.  It’s not supposed to go that way.  Sir was going to pick me up on the curb outside.

I guess I should have alerted Jack verbally rather than relying on him noticing how pale I was.  I wouldn’t have had to use the safe word, “medical.”  I should have just said something like, “I need help, Sir” or “I feel awful, Sir.”  That would have been enough to alert Jack.  Sir would still have been alerted and worried, but I would have been the one to initiate the call for help.  I need to take control of my sense of pride.  My own foolish pride doesn’t get to override my own body’s warning signs.  Sir is completely right, as usual.

If Mark had used the safe word, that shouldn’t diminish my respect for Mark.  Mark is in his 50’s.  If he had started feeling the pangs of a heart attack, of course I would want him to use the safe word.  In fact, I would want him to scream, “Call 911!”

I can’t be judging other people like that.  I made the decision to keep going and not use the safe word.  So what if someone else decides they need to quit?  What business of that is mine?  Who am I to judge whether or not that was the right decision for them to make?

I conclude that I owe Sir an apology for not alerting Jack verbally.  Although the outcome would have been the same, I would have swallowed my pride and asked for help.  Sir would have respected the fact that I asked for help.

Now I have an unknown amount of time left to stand here in this corner, staring at the intersection of these two walls, contemplating my analysis and conclusion.  Have I thought everything through?

One hour of corner time is actually quite a lot.  I usually only get sentenced in 15-minute increments.  Fifteen minutes in the corner is a cakewalk, it gives me a chance to clear my head.  

I can wind up in the corner for lots of reasons.  I know Sir says that I’m not being punished right now, but it sure feels like it!  Usually, I’m only stuck in the corner for an hour when I’m being punished.  The punishment is usually accompanied by a punishment paddling.  

Sir never, ever paddles my ass in anger.  If He’s angry with me, I’ll be sent to the corner until He calms down.  Once His anger’s past, we’ll sit down and have a man-to-boy talk about it.  If there’s a lesson He believes would sink in better if I receive a paddling, He’ll tell me that and ask my opinion.  I always defer to His judgement on paddlings.  Sir’s punishment paddlings aren’t abusive; however, they are longer and harder than other paddlings that we’ll get to later.  Sir wants me to remember the lesson every time I sit down on the day of the paddling and the day after.  Sir concentrates the blows from the paddle on my upper thighs and lower butt; that’s right where I sit down!  Punishment paddlings really hurt!  I mean bad!  I usually have blisters and bruises after a punishment paddling.  A punishment paddling sincerely helps me learn Sir’s lesson.  There isn’t any sexual element to a punishment paddling between Sir and me.

The good news is, Sir hates to have to give me punishment paddlings as much as I hate receiving them.  I must mess up really badly to warrant a punishment paddling.  When I mess up that bad, I feel terrible.  I hate letting Sir down that way.  I hate when He’s that disappointed with me.

A punishment paddling is always followed by an hour of corner time.  I have to stand there and stare at the intersection of the walls without touching my burning boy butt.  It gives me lots of time to consider the lesson Sir has just taught me.

I can also be punished with corner time without having to endure a paddling.  Corner time only punishment is reserved for minor offenses.  One such offense would be cursing.

Sir never swears except when we’re having sex.  I’m able to use the word ‘fuck’ correctly in a sentence, such as “Sir fucked me last night.”  Sir doesn’t consider that swearing.  Otherwise, Sir is disappointed with me when I swear; He considers it to be a lack of vocabulary.  When I slip up, Sir assigns me 15 minutes of corner time.  I usually serve it that same day.  Once I slip up the first time, my mind is on high alert to ensure I don’t slip up again and earn another 15 minutes.  Thirty minutes standing in the corner feels a lot longer than 15 minutes.  

Since I’m a boy, there’s an agreement between Sir and me that I need to receive maintenance paddlings and corner time.  It’s not that I’ve done anything wrong, it’s just that I’m re-acknowledging that Sir is my Sir and I’m Sir’s boy.  I trust and desire that Sir provide me with guidance, and one way to guide a boy is with paddlings and corner time.  There IS a sexual connection between Sir and I when I receive a maintenance paddling.  We must both be naked.  I must position myself over his knee.  Sir is right-handed so my butt needs to be available for his right hand.  This is another way for me to say, ‘my boy butt is all yours, Sir.’  My caged nub drops between His legs.  Sir takes his left hand and lays it over my back, just above my butt.  His left hand is another point of connection between us.  

Sir used to spank me with His right hand.  This was wonderful because His right hand was another connection between the two of us.  But one day I came home and saw him massaging his upper right arm and shoulder.  I asked him what was wrong.  He said He strained His arm beating my boy butt!  After that, I begged Him to switch to a wooden paddle.  He was reluctant because He was afraid He would seriously hurt me with a paddle.  I told Him we should work on that together.  

We had fun figuring out how to use the paddle on my butt.  We’ve both decided that the goal of a maintenance paddling is for me to have a tingly, red butt for an hour.  Maintenance paddlings still hurt!  My butt is tough and it takes a lot of smacks with that hard paddle to get my butt’s attention.  Initially after a paddling, it feels as if my butt’s on fire.  However, after a few minutes, the pain goes away and is replaced with the tingly sensation.  Sir started out with very low impact, long paddlings.  They still made Sir’s arm tired.  Over time, Sir slowly increased the intensity and decreased the length.  Together, we figured out what worked best for us.

I love the tingly feeling that a maintenance paddling leaves.  Sir loves how red my butt gets.  Usually, after my paddling, Sir kisses both my butt cheeks.  Then we usually tongue kiss deeply for a while.  Depending on Sir’s mood, He’ll either have me go down on Him, or lube up and have me lower my boy hole onto His cock.  After Sir cums, I’m usually sent to the corner for 15 minutes to catch my breath and cool down so I can sleep soundly.  Yes, I also have a designated corner in our bedroom, but that’s pretty much dedicated to maintenance corner time.

I can also get sent to the corner at other times.  Sometimes, Sir and I are discussing something and start to become irritated with one another.  It’s only natural that two men won’t always agree on everything all the time.  If He senses I’m becoming overly frustrated, He’ll suddenly just say, “Boy!  Corner!”  At that moment, I only have one acceptable response and that is “Yes, Sir!”  I need to drop everything and go stand in the corner.  There isn’t anything more for me to say, it’s the “pause” button.  This doesn’t mean that Sir “wins” and I “lose,” it has nothing to do with the merits of our arguments.  It simply stops petty, everyday squabbles from tearing down our relationship.  Our relationship is more important than any argument.  While I’m in the corner, I focus on calming down and try to see the argument from Sir’s point of view.  While I’m standing in the corner, Sir is in His own kind of “time out,” it’s just that He’s sitting in his recliner.  LOL!  He uses the time to calm down and try to understand my point of view.  After about 15 minutes, Sir calls me over and we have a rational discussion about the issue.

Occasionally, I become frustrated over an argument before Sir sends me to the corner.  In that situation, I merely inform Sir that I’m feeling sort of frustrated and could really use some corner time to think things over.  At that moment, Sir realizes how frustrated I must be.  He always grants my request for corner time.  Again, I try to consider Sir’s point of view while standing there, and Sir tries to understand my argument.  After 15 minutes, Sir calls me over and a rational discussion ensues.

Sir said that this one hour of corner time isn’t a punishment.  Then why does it feel like it?  Did I mention that I’m fully clothed?  Yes, I’m a fully grown, clothed man standing in the corner.

One hour in the corner feels like an eternity.  There’s nothing particularly interesting about the intersection of two walls.  Sir doesn’t want me moving my head up and down since that’s fidgeting, but I’m welcome to move my eyes up and down.  That still doesn’t help much since there’s nothing much to look at.

Corner time is all part of being a boy, at least for me.  I trust that Sir knows this time in the corner will benefit me. It will help me better learn and remember Sir’s lesson. 

I’m here to contemplate how my pride made me overrule my body’s cry for help.  I think I’m beginning to see the connection.  I just had to override my own pride to submit to Sir’s will that I go stand in this corner.  I’m a grown man voluntarily following Sir’s direction to stand here.  This type of punishment, or action, is usually only required for children aged 10 or less.  It’s not “normal” for a grown man to stand in the corner.  I love and respect Sir.  He believes that my standing here for an hour will help me overrule my pride in the future.  I guess there’s hope for me yet!

Sir and I have the best relationship.  I respect Him as my Sir and He respects me as His boy.  I can’t help that, emotionally, I’m a boy.  I appreciate Sir’s guidance through life.  He never wants to belittle or humiliate me.  He’s proud of me for accepting the fact that I’m a boy.

One time, when we were just starting to get to know one another, I left a note for Sir to let Him know I went to the store and would be back soon.  I left Him the note since He was running errands and I wanted Him to know why I wasn’t home when He got back.

The note read...

Dear Sir,

i am going to the store to pick up a few things.  i will be back soon.

Love, Zac

When I got back from the store, Sir asked me to sit down and have a chat with Him.  I thought I’d done something wrong.

“Zac, I appreciate your leaving me a note to let me know where you were and that you’d be back soon,” Sir remarked.

“Of course, Sir,” I replied, “I wanted you to know that I’d be right back.”

“I’m a bit concerned that you used a lowercase I when referring to yourself,” Sir related.

“Oh, I’m just a silly boy, Sir,” I said.  “I thought all boys were supposed to refer to themselves as a lowercase I.”

“Zac,” Sir said, and I saw tears welling up in His eyes, “there isn’t anything lowercase about you!”

I just looked back at Him with tears welling up in my own eyes.  I really didn’t know what to say.

“The truth is, Zac,” Sir said, “you’re a wonderful, caring, loving man with a wonderful heart and a brilliant mind.  I understand that you identify as a boy emotionally, but that doesn’t make you less than anyone else.” 

I just continued to look at Him with wide eyes.  Tears were running down my cheeks.

“I respect you for knowing that you’re a boy,” Sir said.  “I respect you for knowing that you are better off with guidance from a loving, caring partner that always wants what’s best for you instead of being on your own.  I respect you for surrendering your own pride and submitting to My guidance and discipline.  The fact is, Zac, you’re an incredible man and I love you with all My heart.  You aren’t lowercase, Zac; you’re big and bold and alive and wonderful!  Please don’t ever use a lowercase letter to refer to yourself again.”

By now, Sir and I were both sobbing.  We both hugged each other and hung on for dear life.

After I regained some composure, I said, “Sir, I promise you, I will never, ever, use a lowercase I to refer to myself ever again.”

“That’s good, boy,” Sir said, “please don’t.”

Okay, Sir, I respect Your request to always refer to myself with an uppercase “I”.  But in my writing, You’ll always be uppercase.  Under no circumstances will You ever be referred to in lowercase.

Now, standing here in this corner, I remember that episode.  That was about pride too.  I thought I was swallowing my pride by using that lowercase “I”.  What I actually had to do was swallow my pride by respecting Sir’s request to always refer to myself with an uppercase “I”.  

You’re probably wondering how a grown man comes to accept being sent to the corner in the first place.  Sir and I had an argument not long after we started our relationship.  Sir and I both concluded that I was acting like a brat.  The argument was resolved, but Sir and I had to sit down and discuss how the argument evolved.

“I’m sorry to tell you this boy, but you really acted like a brat earlier today,” Sir said.

“I’m very sorry, Sir,” I replied.  “I hate when I act like a brat.  I let myself down, and I let You down.”

“I believe I can help you become less of a brat, boy.  Would you like my help?” Sir asked.

“Oh, yes Sir,” I replied.  “I would really appreciate any help You can give me.”

“Okay, boy.  First thing, I need you to turn off your cell phone so you won’t be distracted,” Sir says.

“Yes, Sir,” I replied and turned my cell phone off.

“Okay, boy.  Do you see that plant sitting in the corner over there?” Sir asked.

“Yes, Sir,” I answered, wondering what a plant had to do with me being a brat.

“I need you to remove it from the corner and place it off to the side,” Sir said.

“Okay, Sir,” I replied.  I still didn’t know what moving a plant had to do with me being a brat.  But I went over to the corner, kneeled down, grabbed the large pot containing the plant, and moved it out of the corner and off to the side.  “Is this okay, Sir?” I asked, still very much confused.

“That’s perfect, boy!” Sir informed me.  “Now I just need you to stand in the corner.”

At this point, I’m still completely clueless.  I take my place in the corner facing Him.  “Is this where you want me, Sir?” I asked.

“Yes, boy,” Sir replied.  “Now I just need you to turn around and face the corner.”

I began to get the idea.  I was being sent to the corner like a four-year-old!  I remember my face reddening from embarrassment and anger.  But I obeyed Sir, and turned and faced the corner.

“Okay, boy,” Sir continued, “I want you to stand there with your hands down by your sides.  You’re to stare straight ahead into the corner.  I don’t want you turning your head or looking up or down.  I want you to bend one knee slightly, so you don’t faint.  Do you understand, boy?” Sir asked.

“Yes, Sir,” I said. I felt humiliated and I was very angry at Sir.

“Have you ever had to stand in the corner before, boy?” Sir asked.

“Yes, Sir,” I answered, “when I was in school, Sir.”

“How old were you the last time you stood in the corner?” Sir asked.

“I guess I was about six years old, Sir,” I replied.

“When you’re a brat, you act like a six year old, boy,” Sir declared.  “I’ll cure you of being a brat by punishing you like a six year old.”

“Okay, Sir,” I said, beginning to understand Sir’s actions.

“I’m going to have you stand in the corner for 15 minutes today, boy,” Sir informed me.  “The next time you act like a brat, you’ll stand in the corner for 30 minutes.  The next time will cost you 45 minutes.  Are you starting to get the idea, boy?” Sir asked.

“Yes, Sir,” I replied.  “When I act like a six year old, I’ll be punished like one.  My corner time will increase 15 minutes every time I act like a brat.”

“Very good, boy,” Sir complimented me.  “I believe we’ll have you cured of acting like a brat in no time.  Either that, or your nose will be stuck in that corner for hours!  Do you think this will help you no longer act like a brat?” Sir asked.

“Yes, Sir,” I said.  “I don’t want to have to stand here for hours.  I feel stupid having to stand here as a grown man.”

“That’s the point, boy,” Sir said.  “I’m about to set the timer for 15 minutes.  There will be no talking.  Just stand there and think about how acting like a brat resulted in your having to stand in the corner.  Before you start acting like a brat in the future, I hope you’ll look back and remember this corner time.  If you start looking around or fidgeting, I’ll add 5 minutes to your sentence.  Are we clear on the rules, boy?” Sir asked.

“Yes, Sir,” I replied.  

I stood there, staring at that stupid corner for the full 15 minutes.  I absolutely hated it!  I was angry with myself for acting like such a baby.  Afterwards, Sir came and hugged me.  He thanked me for swallowing my pride and serving corner time to help improve our relationship.  Guess what?  I never acted like a brat again!  I always remember that time in the corner and I try to focus on constructive conversations.  Arguments will always happen, but I need to argue like an adult.

After that, Sir laid down the no cursing rule.  It was MUCH harder to stop myself cursing.  Initially, I wound up with tons of corner time, but no more than one hour a day.  As I spent more time in the corner, I realized it really wasn’t so bad.  The time helped me focus on improving myself and my relationship with Sir.  I also stopped being embarrassed about serving corner time.  I embraced the inner boy inside me and realized corner time was an effective way to help me grow as a man.  It also helps that Sir respects me for being willing to submit to corner time.

Sir has other punishment methods available to use.  Even though He’s never used it, He could ground me!  Since I’m a boy, if Sir and I both concluded that I should be grounded, I’d be grounded.

Sir and I have both concluded that we’ll never drink and drive, not even one alcoholic drink.  Sir usually drives us.  Out of respect for Sir, I usually don’t drink either.  Sir has already told me what my punishment will be if I ever drink and drive.  There won’t be any punishment paddling.  There won’t be any corner time.  I’ll simply have to write a 10,000 word college-level essay on the dangers of drinking and driving.  Sir figures it will take me about 40 hours to complete.  Actually, Sir will ensure it will take me at least 40 hours to complete.  I’ll need to sacrifice a minimum of two complete weekends writing my punishment essay.  Instead of doing something fun, I’ll be stuck inside writing a paper.  This is all the motivation I need to not drink and drive.  I really, really, don’t want to write that paper!

I just thought of something cool!  Since I’m not being punished, Sir just might be up for sex after I stand here for an hour.  As long as I demonstrate that I’ve learned my lesson and won’t let pride rule me, Sir won’t be unhappy with me.  Sir loves when I show my submissive side.  What’s more submissive than standing here all this time?  Can’t get much more submissive than that!

Sir comes up behind me and wraps his big arms around me.  He nuzzles my neck and kisses me there.  I don’t move or say anything since he hasn’t told me that corner time is over.  But it’s okay if I smile!

“Thank you for standing here all this time, boy,” Sir says.  “It must get horribly boring staring at that corner for a whole hour.  You may speak.”

“You’re welcome, Sir,” I reply.  “I’m happy to stand here for as long as You’d like if You think it’ll help me focus on Your lesson, Sir.”

“Thank you for being so committed to our relationship, boy,” Sir continues.  “I respect you for being willing to stand here in order to focus on the lessons we learn together, and our relationship.”

“You’re welcome, Sir,” I reply.  “I’m grateful for the corner time You assign me.  It really helps me focus on Your lessons and our relationship.”

“What thoughts have come to mind as you’ve been standing here thinking about today’s lesson?” Sir asks.

“I’m really sorry, Sir,” I apologize.  “I should have alerted Jack that I was in trouble.  I should have told him that I felt awful.”

“Apology accepted,” Sir declares.  “Why didn’t you tell him?”

“My pride got in the way, Sir,” I answer truthfully.  “I thought I needed to ignore how awful I felt, or I’d be a failure.  That was really dumb.  Sometimes we get into situations where we’re in over our head.  That’s when we need to ask for help.  Asking for help isn’t a weakness; it’s just smart.”

“That’s my boy!” Sir responds as he squeezes me tighter.  “What will you do in the future?”

“I’ll ask for help whenever I need it, Sir,” I reply.  “I’ll remember my time standing in this corner and realize that pride really isn’t all that important.”

“Good boy!” Sir exclaims.  “Okay, boy, corner time’s over.  Time for sex!”

I turn around and hug Sir tightly.  We kiss deeply.  We start removing the other’s shirt.  Once our shirts are out of the way, we undo the other’s belt.  We unbutton and unzip the other’s shorts and let them fall to the floor and step out of them.  Sir kneels down and nuzzles my caged nub trapped in my boxers.  He yanks them down and I step out of them.  He stands back up.  I kneel down, and nuzzle His growing cock in His boxers.  I yank His boxers down and He steps out of them.  His magnificent cock jumps up to great me.  I kiss the mushroom head to suck up the precum oozing from his slit.  His cum is sweet and sticky, like honey.  I continue to tongue kiss His head.  As I kiss, I gently suck a small portion of His head into my mouth and run my tongue along the sensitive flesh.  His cock tastes so good!

After I’ve kissed His head, I press my face into His sumptuous, hairy scrotum.  I inhale His man musk deeply.  His musk is the scent of home.  My nose nuzzles His sack, feeling His long, curly, black hairs tickling my face.  After enjoying His essence, my tongue starts lapping His male bag.  His salty sweat triggers my taste buds.  His testicles rise and fall as my tongue pulls on His pouch.  I can’t get enough of this man, my Sir.

I take one of His beautiful balls into my mouth.  I suck on it, and gently lick its underside.  I loll it around in my mouth.  I give His other ball equal attention.

I return to His cock.  I suck the entire head into my oral cavity, using my tongue to deliberately press His head against the roof of my mouth.  I nod my head up and down to ensure His glans is caressed by it.

“That feels really good, boy,” Sir whispers.

My tongue continues to lick his underside.  Every few laps, I’m rewarded with the feel and taste of His precum.  I happily swirl my tongue all around His head.

I want to encourage his erection.  I place my tongue at the base of his shaft where it connects to his sack.  I zig-zag my tongue from his base all the way to his head.

“Oh, fuck boy, that feels good,” Sir whispers.

I lick both sides of His shaft, starting at His pubes and going all the way to His head.  I run my tongue back and forth and back and forth.  I feel Him stiffen.

Okay, enough of the appetizers, it’s time for the entrée.  I open my throat and mentally disable my gag reflex.  I open wide and swallow His rod all the way until my nose is getting tickled by His pubes and His mushroom head rubs up against the back of my throat.  I shake my head back and forth, up and down to stimulate the tip of His head in my throat.  My tongue massages the underbelly of His shaft.  I inhale His musky aroma emerging from His pubes.

Then I start fucking my mouth with His penis.  I pull back until His head is ready to slip out and push all the way back down until He’s back in my throat.  I’m like a machine.  My tongue keeps massaging His shaft the whole time.

“Boy, this feels great but I don’t want to cum yet,” Sir whispers.

I always respond to Sir’s wishes.  I slow my pace, but continue to suck Him in and out of my mouth.

“I think it’s time to fuck your hole, boy,” Sir says quietly.

“How do you want me, Sir?” I ask.

“Let’s go upstairs,” Sir suggests.

We bound naked up the stairs to our bedroom.

“I think I want you doggy-style on the bed, boy,” Sir says.

I quickly assume the position of all fours on the bed.  I’m sure to stick my ass out as much as I can.

“Look at that beautiful hole, boy!” Sir exclaims.  “It’s so cute, all pink and puckered like that.  Why, it looks good enough to eat!”

I giggle.

He comes up behind me and buries His tongue inside me as far as He can reach.  He moves it all around.  It feels so good, I squirm.

“Oh, Sir, Your tongue feels amazing inside me!” I proclaim.

He tongue-fucks me, making my hole all nice and sloppy with spit so He can ram His cock in me.  He grabs some lube and fingers my hole with it.  He applies some to His cock.  

Finally, I feel His tip at my backdoor.  It really builds my anticipation since I know what comes next.  He slowly enters me.  Yeah, it hurts, but it hurts so good!  

“Oh, heck yeah, Sir.  Please fuck my hole,” I beg.

He slides all the way in.  I focus on relaxing my hole until he’s all the way inside.  As I feel Him start to withdraw, I tighten my hole to ensure He gets maximum pleasure from His visit.  When I feel Him enter again, I loosen up to allow easy entry.  This is a nice, easy, slow, deep fuck.

“Thank you, Sir.  You’re amazing!” I moan.

“Your boy chute is the perfect match for my dick!” Sir exclaims as He’s fucking me.

Slowly, Sir picks up the speed of His thrusts.  My hole feels warm and tingly.

“Breed me, Sir!” I yell.  “Seed my hole!”

“Oh, don’t you worry, boy,” Sir assures me, “you’re getting my load tonight.”

As He thrusts faster, my caged nub swings back and forth between my legs.  Sir’s balls smack into my nuts which are trapped between my A-ring and cage.  A thin line of goo drips from my nub slit onto the bed.  Sir grasps my shoulders with His hands.  He’s close to shooting now.

“Here it comes, boy,” Sir yells.  “Take my load.  From my balls to your hole.”

Sir stops thrusting and I feel His cock expand slightly.  I know my hole is being seeded.

“Oh, fuck, boy!” Sir yells.  “Take my cum.”

“Oh yeah, Sir,” I shout back.  “Give me Your cum.”

Sir bends forward and lies on my back.  I love feeling His sweaty chest against my back.  He kisses my neck.

“That tickles, Sir,” I giggle.

“Shall I insert a butt plug so you can absorb my load?” He asks.

“Please, Sir,” I reply, “I want to keep Your cum inside me.”

He grabs a handy butt plug and lubes it up.  As His cock exits my hole, He gently inserts the plug, trapping His load inside me.

“Thank you, Sir,” I say.

Sir rolls me onto my back and I stretch out on the bed.  He lies down on top of me.  We kiss passionately.

Continuing my meal analogy, since I’ve had the appetizers and entrée, what do you suppose is dessert?

“Sir?” I ask.

“Yes, boy?” He answers.

“Would you like me to give Your hole a nice, gentle tongue massage?” I offer.

“You want to stick your tongue in my hairy, stinky hole?” He asks incredulously.

“Oh, yes Sir, I really do,” I assure Him.

“Okay, boy, I guess you’ve earned it,” Sir says reluctantly.  “But I’m lying on my back!”  

Sir rolls over on His back and kicks His legs over His head, exposing His wonderful, hairy, musky hole.

“Oh, thank you, Sir,” I say gratefully.  “Thank you for sharing Your hole with me.”

“It’s all yours, boy,” Sir replies.

I start by flattening my tongue and licking His entire pucker.  I roll my tongue all around the exterior.  Then I start applying pressure with my tongue so I just slightly part His lips.  I lick from the middle to the outside in all directions.  Then I dive in with my tongue all the way.  I move my tongue all around in there.

“That feels very nice, boy,” Sir whispers.  “Thank you for sharing your tongue with me.”

“The pleasure is mine, Sir,” I reply.

“I’m glad you like that smelly thing, boy,” Sir says.

I dive right back in.  I fuck His hole with my tongue.  I dig all around inside Him.

“This is very relaxing, boy,” Sir says.

I keep eating Him out until my tongue gets really tired.  I’ve enjoyed my dessert tonight!

I lie down next to Sir and we kiss.  I lay my head on His chest.  He strokes my hair.

“Wow, I need to give you an hour of corner time more often!” Sir says jokingly.

“Sir!” I protest.  “One hour’s a really long time,” I say, pouting.

“I know, boy,” Sir admits.  “But you served your time like a trooper and I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you, Sir,” I say.

We take a shower together and go to bed.  Perhaps I’ll get a maintenance paddling and corner time tomorrow.  Such is the life of a boy.

THE END