“My pleasure, boy, my pleasure...”oOo“Well, you're back, Johnson.”“I'm afraid so, sir.”“Then you'd better get into position.”“Yes, s...r.” Mr. Jones watched as the boy lowered himself over the horse, the close-fitting shorts pulling tighter around the delicious arse. He had thought of little else since the caning of a fortnight before, and now he was all a-quiver with anticipation.“Twelve strokes, boy. I did warn you the last time.”“Yes, sir. I'm sorry sir.”The instructor tapped his cane to the. In all of our cuddling sessions it was never a big deal before. Our current conversation must be the reason why I am so aware of it this time. Or it could have been the fact that I felt it start to creep along my butt crack to its final resting place, the small of my back. I wanted to turn around so that I could see it, grab it or something - but I was frozen. I suspect that he was too or he would have broken our embrace. I could tell he was frozen because he was hardly breathing. I could have. More

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