CHAPTER 1
Heath Burke jumped when a loud swack and a squeal came out of the principal’s office.
He’d been sent there because he simply couldn’t seem to get to school on time. It was the fourth time in less than a month he’d been late for English and the teacher had finally gotten fed up with it. So off to the principal’s office he went, down the long hall with his shirttail half out and his books jammed under one arm.
But the sounds coming through the half-open doorway stopped him dead.
It wasn’t the swack that got him. It was the other sound underneath it — soft, wet, passionate. A boy’s sound, half smothered. Heath frowned at the door, told himself it was wrong to peep, and peeped anyway.
The red-haired boy blinked his deep blue eyes at the sight of Mr. Elliot whacking a long ruler against the flat of his hand. And bent over the desk, shorts hauled down and briefs pulled down after them, was another boy — one Heath didn’t know.
“You have been a very bad boy, Stu,” said Mr. Elliot. “I must discipline you. Severely discipline you.”
“What did I ever do to you?” Stu sobbed.
Heath noticed for the first time that the boy’s hands were tied behind his back. He couldn’t move, no matter how much he struggled. But it was the sight of the two pale rounds of his bare ass that really sent the tingles of fear racing through the spying boy’s young body.
What was the principal doing? He shouldn’t even be spanking this Stu, and here he was stripping him and spanking him with a long, ugly-looking ruler. And he’d tied the boy’s hands behind his back so he couldn’t even fight him off. It was inhuman.
“You disobeyed me,” Elliot said. “I heard you talking with one of your friends. You mentioned the last time you had to come into my office for… discipline. You told on me. And you remember what I said your punishment would be the next time. If you mentioned one word about it.”
“I didn’t tell anyone anything!” Stu cried.
It did him no good. Mr. Elliot began spanking him with slow, deliberate blows across his ass. The thwack of the ruler on bare boy-flesh made Heath want to turn and run. But something held him. He couldn’t have moved if his life depended on it.
The ruler rose and fell, taking an eternity between each blow. Soon ugly red welts crisscrossed the boy’s rear end. When it glowed a rosy red, Mr. Elliot stopped and laid his hand on the curved roundness and began to stroke it in the most obscene way possible.
Heath wanted to call out, to tell him to stop, but the words choked him. He could only watch, passive, and see what happened to the captive boy.
“About the right temperature for the next part of your punishment.” The leer on the man’s face was the most lewd thing the spying boy had ever seen. “Really, Stu, you’d have been better off keeping it to yourself. But no — you had to go shoot your mouth off. Do you know what I’m going to do to you by way of instruction?”
Heath had only been sent there for tardiness. Whatever crime Stu had committed against the principal must have been a monstrous one. The peeping boy couldn’t imagine anything that would earn a whipping like this.
The principal began spanking him harder and faster with the relentless wooden ruler. The broad wooden wand laid welts all over the boy’s tender ass, and only when he pressed his hand against the tortured flesh and felt the right temperature did he stop. Then he did something that made Heath gasp out loud. His hand flew to his lips and pressed hard, to stifle any further outcry.
This was unheard of.
Mr. Elliot unzipped his pants and let his long, hard cock snap out. It danced three inches above the boy’s welted ass — heavy, dark, thick as a wrist, the head of it flushed fat and the shaft ridged with veins. It swayed when he moved. It was obvious what he was going to do with it.
Heath was naive about such things. He didn’t know much about sex and had never seen what a grown man’s cock looked like when it was fully aroused.
But he had now.
And naive or not, he understood that the man meant to fuck the boy bent across his desk. With his hands tied behind his back the way they were, and the pain from his well-spanked ass going through him like a wire, Stu was completely helpless and at the man’s mercy.
If he had any mercy.
Elliot reached under and closed his hand on the boy’s cock — and it was hard, Heath saw, hard and red and standing straight down between his spread thighs, the tip of it shining wet where it rubbed the edge of the desk. Elliot rolled it in his fist, smeared the slick around the head with his thumb, worked it slow while the boy whimpered.
“Nice and juicy for me already, aren’t you? You enjoy this, don’t you, you goddamn cocksucker.”
Heath had heard words similar to that before, but never from his principal.
Elliot pulled his hand away and the boy’s cock swung under him, wet and straining and forgotten. Then the man gathered a mouthful of spit, let it drop into his own palm, and slicked it down the length of his prick — root to head, twice, and then once more for the head, which gleamed. The sound of it was obscene, a wet sucking noise in the quiet room.
“Nice little ass you got, faggot,” he snarled. “And this is still only part of your punishment. You will not ever tell what has happened in this office, or you’ll really be punished next time.”
He moved in closer, took his cock in hand, and knocked the boy’s legs farther apart with the other.
Then his hips shot forward.
Heath watched the dull red prick vanish into the boy’s hole. The tight ring flared for a second around the head of it — a pale, puckered ring of muscle, opening in an obscene little kiss on the tip of the man’s cock — and then it folded in, swallowed, and the whole shaft raced up into him at once.
The smacking noise filled the air and was quickly drowned out by the boy’s sobs. “Don’t do this to me. Please, Mr. Elliot, don’t fuck me like that. It’s — it hurts when you fuck me like this!”
Heath felt confused, unsure what to do. Should he run? Where? He couldn’t go back to class until the principal signed a slip saying he’d met with him. Should he tell someone what the man was doing to Stu? Who? The counselor was an old battle-ax nobody liked. She’d surely think Heath was lying to get out of the punishment due him for his tardiness.
Besides, this was something more for the cops than for any of the other school officials.
Could he go to the police with this?
No. The principal would call him a liar, and unless Stu backed him up, he’d be in a world of trouble. And from the way the boy was struggling and moaning and begging him to stop, Heath knew Stu wouldn’t do anything to risk a return match like this. Which was exactly what would happen if he went to the police with a story that the principal of his high school spanked his students on the bare ass and then fucked them from behind while they were tied up.
Heath was frozen to the spot, watching, spying, while the man fucked fiercely into the boy’s hole from behind. He saw every sordid detail and learned more about fucking in those few seconds than he had in all his years of living.
“Goddamn, but you got a tight ass, boy. I love the feel of your hole all around my cock. Tense up again, damn you, you stupid little faggot, tense up around my cock.”
Then he began beating Stu with the ruler. While his prick was still shoved all the way up him, he landed the wooden ruler on the boy’s ass cheeks until Stu was openly crying and sobbing in shame. Tears ran down his cheeks and puddled on the desktop where only Heath could see them. The boy’s cock had gone to leaking in earnest now, a long thread of it strung from the tip down to the desk, and it swung with every blow.
Heath wanted to stop this degrading display, but he knew better than to barge in. It could as easily have been him bent over the man’s desk, that big prick driving hard into his virgin ass.
“I’m gonna fuck you till my cock comes out your tonsils,” the principal groaned.
Then his hips exploded in a frenzy of activity, his long prick slipping out between the tight ring until only the purpled head stayed inside him. Then he surged back in, the lewd wet noise filling the air and actually drowning out the boy’s sobs.
“Yeah. Gonna fuck you good, Stu, you dumb faggot. Gonna teach you not to fuck me over by fuckin’ this tight little ass of yours good.”
Heath marveled at the way their bodies seemed to fit together like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. The man’s groin curved in just the right places to fit perfectly against the boy’s well-spanked rear. When he rocked up and down and drove his prick in even deeper, the coarse hair on the man’s thighs worked hard against the boy’s tortured flesh. His balls swung heavy between them, wet with spit, slapping the underside of the boy’s cock with every stroke.
And Heath’s own cock began to drool in his briefs as Mr. Elliot fucked hard and fast into the captive boy’s hole.
He didn’t understand his reaction. He shouldn’t respond to a man doing terrible things like this. Yet he was. His cock itched and ached, and behind it there was a hollow place that felt curiously empty, as if something was missing from inside him. He reached down into his shorts a little so he could run his fingers across the white cotton of his briefs over his crotch. A tiny damp spot on the cloth slowly spread from the end of his hard prick, then, when his fingers touched his cock through it, it leaked more.
He gulped and had to lean against the doorjamb for support. His legs went strangely weak and rubbery. Unconsciously his fingers worked under the elastic of his briefs and down through the sparse hair to the agitated length of his cock. He felt the slippery head of it under his thumb, and then his fist closed and began to pump.
Heath almost passed out from the reaction. His hand went all the way down to the root and back up, and the thing jumped in his grip like it had a mind of its own. Of course he’d played with it before, but this was more cock than he knew what to do with, thick and blunt and standing up out of his fist, and the head of it was already slick as a knob of soap. The sensations building in him this time were more intense than anything he’d ever gotten out of it before.
He felt the lack of something fucking him — hard, deep, fast. He opened his eyes and saw Mr. Elliot still driving into Stu, and everything fell into confusion for the boy. He could no longer keep fantasy and fact straight. He wished it were different, that he was the one with his hands tied firmly behind his back, having his ass swatted, having that huge prick driving deep into him.
He was perversely turned on by the idea of having the principal “discipline” him the way he was doing Stu. He hated the idea. He hated the thought of being degraded and stripped and made to do something that only the man wanted to do.
And it turned him on in a big way.
Some of the other boys had hinted. And one even rubbed Heath’s cock through his pants once, but he’d never actually done anything. Heath knew playing with another boy like that was wrong. It was the way he’d been raised, and he didn’t see any reason to play with another guy and get in trouble.
He wished it wasn’t wrong, if he could, he’d get all the cock he could take if it would be all right. Because what he was seeing… it was driving him out of his mind.
His fist worked faster along his cock. He dragged the slick down the whole length and back, and the tingles oozing into his body made his muscles tense into hard knots. And no matter what he did, he couldn’t relieve the pulled-tight feeling in him. He was like a string pulled to the breaking point.
“Love that tight little ass of yours, boy,” said Mr. Elliot, his cock gleaming a dull silver in the dim light of the room as it pounded in and out of Stu. And the sight of it made Heath’s own cock twitch with need.
He almost cried out, but he bit his lip so hard blood flowed down his chin. The salty taste brought him back to his senses as much as the sharp pain did. There was no way he could reveal himself. How would he ever explain it? He was an unwilling observer while Mr. Elliot fucked the living hell out of the bound boy — and he was actually masturbating in the man’s outer office while he had his pleasures with the boy. Who was better? Mr. Elliot, who openly did what he wanted, or Heath, who sneaked around and spied on others?
The confusion he felt melted all his reason. He kept watching the rape going on in the office. And rape was exactly what it was. Heath could hear the other boy sobbing and pleading and crying out.
“Don’t do this to me, please, oh — oh God, that prick of yours is tearing me apart! I feel it all the way up my guts!”
“Yes,” the man panted, “I know. I love the tightness of your hole. And it punishes you. My big, swollen prick fucking you is your punishment. Take this and this and this!”
He rammed hard into the boy’s gaping hole three times. Each time Stu jerked on the desk and tried to get away. Bent over the edge the way he was, there was no way he could escape. Struggle as he might, he couldn’t avoid getting that thick, swollen cock buried all the way up him.
Elliot kept the boy’s legs split wide open. And with the boy’s hands tied behind his back, Stu couldn’t use them for leverage to get out of the face-down-on-the-desk position. He was impaled all the way up the ass on the man’s prick and couldn’t have been more helpless. And this turned Heath on like crazy, seeing the other boy’s dilemma.
Heath knew Stu couldn’t escape, and yet he was getting the fucking of his life. Call it rape, but he wasn’t responsible for getting all the cock he could take. Heath wished in a perverted way it was him in there on the receiving end of Mr. Elliot’s cock. He wouldn’t be responsible, and he’d be getting the ultimate in human pleasure — and it wouldn’t be his fault.
The thoughts confused him. Why should he want to be violated like that? But he wasn’t able to stifle the urges spreading into his body from between his pounding cock.
His body demanded cock and lots of it. He drove his fist savagely up and down his cock in a vain effort to sate it. If anything, he only fed his own lust. He shifted from one foot to the other as his thumb found the head of it. Rubbing up and down over the slick little crown drove him out of his mind with need. He felt shot after fierce shot of desire smash into his young, untried body. Instinctively he knew what he wanted, what he needed. And he was watching it happen not ten feet from where he spied on the principal.
He needed a good fucking.
Heath began to sweat profusely. Rivers of salty sweat ran down his face and momentarily blinded him. He brushed away a strand of red hair and got a clear view of what was happening in the principal’s office.
The man’s rhythm had gone ugly and fast. Elliot’s shirt was dark under the arms. His tie hung loose over the boy’s back and swung with every stroke. He had both hands clamped on the boy’s hips now, hauling him back onto his cock like a man hauling on a rope, and the desk was squeaking under them, one short squawk for every thrust.
Stu’s cock hung down between his own thighs, long and red and hard as a nail, and it was slapping the front of the desk with every one of the man’s strokes. There was a wet string of it running from the tip to the desktop, thin as a hair, and it stretched and snapped and re-formed, stretched and snapped. His balls were drawn up tight against his body. His ass was red from the ruler, welt over welt, and in the middle of all that red the man’s prick was sawing in and out of a hole that had gone raw and slick and shining.
Elliot reached down and gripped the boy’s upper thighs with both hands. He lifted him until his legs were on either side of his waist, the hard prick driving straight up into him.
Then he exploded in a frenzy of motion that caused him to blur in the spying boy’s eyes. He fucked the hell out of the bound boy. Stu had long since begun to moan not from pain but from pleasure. There was no way his traitorous body was going to miss a fucking like this. It responded fully to the raping principal.
“Like it, don’t you, you goddamn little slut?” he grunted as he fucked even deeper into the boy’s tight hole.
“My ass! My ass is burning!” the boy cried.
“Not yet, it’s not. Just wait till I really cut loose and fuck it. Then it’ll burn brighter than the noonday sun. I’m gonna give that tight hole of yours the fucking it wants.”
“Your cock,” Stu sobbed, “is soooo big. Feels so thick and swollen inside me. Please, I — aieeeeee!”
Heath had never seen anyone come — not even himself. The odd mask of pleasure locked on Stu’s face was scary enough. But the screams, and the way his whole body went rigid, told the spying boy something huge was happening. Stu’s cock jumped and spat, once, twice, three times. Ropes of white cut through the air and landed in strings on the side of the desk. His ass clamped down on the man’s prick so hard that Elliot grunted. And then he went limp all over, and hung there with his cheek flat on the wood, breathing like he’d run a mile.
Heath couldn’t understand his own mixed feelings. To be raped was about the worst thing in the world. He didn’t want any man fucking him. But his body told him a different story. He did want to be fucked like this. To be completely helpless, so there’d not be the slightest bit of guilt on his part, and then fucked like hell. He couldn’t fight off a man as strong and dominant as the principal. Nobody would expect him to. He couldn’t blame Stu for letting the man fuck him like this, because he felt stirrings of the same urge inside his own body.
But it was so degrading to be used like an object, to be fucked without any thought of his own pleasure, to be discarded afterward like a used Kleenex.
And the man wasn’t even close to finished with him.
Elliot pulled out halfway and shoved back in, slow this time, deliberate, dragging the fat head of his cock back out over the ring until it caught on the rim of it and stretched the rim white, and then letting it snap back in. He did it again. And again. Each time the boy’s whole body rolled forward on the desk.
“You feel that?” the man said. “That’s you opening up. You’ll take it easy as anything by the time I’m done with you. You’ll be begging for it. You’re gonna come back to this office on your own two feet and ask me for it, and don’t you tell me different.”
Heath watched the rim of the boy’s hole stretch around the head of that prick and go white, then swallow, then grip. Stretch, swallow, grip. He watched the man’s balls swing low and heavy between his thighs, dark and full, wet with spit at the bottom where they hung. He watched the boy’s come drying on the desk in strings.
And Heath’s own cock was leaking so hard now that he wasn’t sure it wasn’t pee.
Somewhere down the hall a door banged. Heath froze with his hand still on his cock, his heart going like a rabbit’s, listening. But no footsteps came. Whoever it was had gone the other way, and the sound of the fucking went on, wet and rhythmic and utterly careless.
“Think anybody can hear you in here, boy?” Elliot grunted. “Think that receptionist in the outer office can hear you squealing like that? Think she’s out there right now with her hand down her shorts, listening to you get your ass fucked?”
Heath nearly came on the spot at the thought of it. Her hand down her shorts — her, a girl, not him. The man didn’t even know he was there.
“I… my cock is going to blow up like a stick of dynamite. Your ass is too hot and tiiiiight!”
And then Mr. Elliot jammed his hips forward and tossed back his head. A long, low cry escaped his lips and his whole body shuddered heavily. Heath knew the principal had shot stuff just like the boy.
He could see it happen. The man’s balls drew up tight into his body, tight as two fists, and stayed there. His hips ground in slow circles against the boy’s welted ass, grinding, working himself in as deep as he could get, and every grind pushed a fresh grunt out of him. His fingers dug white into the boy’s thighs. His back arched, and the shudder came up out of him from somewhere low and rolled through him in a wave that shook the loose tie on his chest.
The boy under him felt it too. Stu went still, cheek flat on the desk, breathing through his mouth, and took it.
For a long moment nothing moved in that office but the man’s shoulders, heaving.
Then Elliot pulled out.
Heath watched the whole thing. He watched the thick shaft come back out slow, shining and ridged, and he watched the boy’s hole come with it — the ring pulled out around the head of the prick and clinging to it, red and raw and open, then letting go with a soft wet sound. It gaped for a second, a dark little hole the size of a thumb, and then it closed, and then it pushed.
A fat pearl of jism rolled out of it and slid down the inside of the boy’s thigh and hung there, catching the light.
Heath had never seen anything like it in his life. He stared at that pearl of come on a boy’s thigh and something turned over in his chest.
“Good boy,” said Mr. Elliot. He was breathing hard. He patted the boy’s ass twice, right on the welts, and Stu flinched both times. “Good, good boy. Now you know what happens.”
Stu didn’t answer. He was crying again, quietly, with his face on the wood, and his hips were still twitching in little circles, humping the edge of the desk like he didn’t know he was doing it.
Heath closed his eyes as he stroked along his own cock and wondered what it felt like getting a man to shoot up inside him. It must be super, because Stu came again — the boy’s cock jumped under him and coughed up a second, thinner load across the front of the desk, and Stu made a small broken sound into the wood, like it had been dragged out of him against his will.
That did it.
Heath’s own fist was flying now, wet and fast, and something was drawing up tight behind his balls, tighter than he’d ever felt it, and he never wanted stop. He bit down on his lip again. He rode it out.
The first shot caught him under the chin. The second went up into his chest through his shirt. The third he caught in his hand, and by then his knees had gone soft and he had to put his shoulder against the doorjamb to keep from sliding down it.
For a second he saw stars. His whole body rang like a bell.
When he opened his eyes he stared at his own hand like it belonged to somebody else. He was in shock. His prick had made the same stuff as Stu and the principal. His legs were trembling. And the man inside the office hadn’t heard a thing.
Heath stood there a moment, panting, and thought about what he’d just done. In the outer office of the principal. With his hand down his shorts. While a man fucked a boy on the other side of a door..
Inside, the man was going about his business like nothing had happened. He’d tucked himself away and zipped up. Now he was at the boy’s wrists, working the knot loose, unhurried, still breathing a little hard through his nose. The boy stayed bent over the desk while his hands came free and then just lay there with them, palms up, like he’d forgotten what they were for.
“You can get up,” Elliot said.
Stu got up slowly. His shorts were around his ankles. He bent for them and Elliot watched him do it, watched the boy’s ass the whole way down and the whole way up. There were welts across both cheeks and a shine between them.
“You’ll be back,” Elliot said. “They always come back. Pull yourself together and get out of here. And Stu —” The boy stopped at the door. “Not one word.”
“Not one word,” Stu said.
Heath had just enough time to get his hand off his cock and behind his back. But Stu came out through the outer office with his head down and his eyes red and never even looked up. The door closed behind him. Heath was alone again with the smell of the place and a wet hand he couldn’t put anywhere.
He came to his senses.
He couldn’t stand here all day masturbating. Someone would come along and ask what he was doing, and then they’d see what was going on in the principal’s office, and then and then and then…
Too much explaining to do.
Heath dried his hand hurriedly on some paper off the secretary’s desk. He wiped it twice and the second time it left a smear on the blotter, a faint wet ring shaped like his palm, and he stood looking at it and wondering if anyone would ever be able to tell what it was.
His mind raced. Then he came to a conclusion. The principal wasn’t going to be in any position to pass judgment on his tardiness for some time. So he’d better go check whether the vice-principal was in his office and get the slip signed by somebody who still had his pants on.
He edged away from the door.
The whipped, wet sounds of the boy were still in his ears. So was the man’s voice: You’ll be back. They always come back. Heath walked down the corridor with his books under his arm and his shirt stuck to his chest and one thought going around and around in his head, and the thought was that it could have been him.
It should have been him.
No. That was the wrong way to look at it. It shouldn’t have been him. He hadn’t done anything. But all the way down the hall, with every step, the hollow place behind his cock was telling him a different story.
Heath Burke felt oddly drained after witnessing the curious fucking in the principal’s office, and wondered just what he could do about it.
He just didn’t know.
He’d have to ask his best friend, Len. Len knew everything and could help him make a decision.
He just hoped Len wouldn’t ask him how he knew.
