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Review This Story || Author: JensenDenmark

Career Choice

Part 1 A childhood lost

Career choice

Career choice

by JensenDenmark

1. A childhood lost

 

“Rick. You have to come with me. Your father has been taken to the hospital”

 

I am Rick and I am 17 years old. I live in Filmore just north of L.A, where I have lived since I was born. 2 year ago I lost my beloved mother. My father broke down and I very much got to live my own life because he shut me off and concentrated on his job. I was mourning also and my grade slipped because clothes, food etc. became a struggle when my father did not have the strength to do more than just calling for a pizza. In school I was isolated because I very much arrived with dirty clothes the most of the time. I began to skip school sometime 2 or 3 days per week.

 

After 6 months the school called my father because I became involved in a fight. They expelled me and threatened my father with the social services. That was when Maria came into our lives. My father enrolled me in a small Christian School and it only took a week before I came into trouble when someone noticed that my new school uniform had not been washed for a week. My father was called to the office where the principal – Mr. Skinner - was told of our story. He had a solution. His mom had just moved into a nursing home and her housemaid – Maria – was out of a job.

 

Maria became housemaid by us. When I saw her the first time, both my fathers and my jaws dropped. She was hot! Dark hair – almost 6 foot high – 25 years – and what a body. Only her odd black maid uniform with a white apron with bib front and cross-over straps completed with a mob seemed out of time and place.

 

Maria noticed our look and explained that her former employer preferred her to be dressed like that and that she wanted to continue to wear uniform unless we had something against it. We didn’t. Maria got the house straightened out. Unfortunately I had been on my own, so I had difficulties to do the same. Four weeks later I skipped school and spent the entire day in the mall. The next day I was told to report to the office of the Mr. Skinner.

 

When I arrived at the office the Mr. Skinner and Maria waited for me. The Mr. Skinner informed me that I had broken the rules and according to the student handbook I had to be punished by a parent, who should administer 5 strokes with the board (We pupils called it the big educational board) while he was watching. Because my father was working, he had given Maria written authority to act in his place. I protested, but there was no choice. I remember it as it was yesterday.

 

“Young man – follow me” He went over to a door. When he opened it, I saw an odd piece of furniture. Seeing my surprise he explained. “This is a spanking trestle. I need you to drop your clothes and lie down it.”

 

I blushed. I have not undressed in front of another woman but my mother. I hesitated but Mr. Skinner told me that the number of strokes would be doubled if I did not get started.

 

When I was naked Mr. Skinner made me lie down on the trestle. First my hands and feet were put in leather cuffs. Then they put a leather strap over my body, so I could not move. Finally a wide leather collar was put around my neck and fastened with two D-rings to the trestle. The collar made me keep my head up, I looked straight forward.

 

“Young man: You are going to count the strokes. If you fail, we would start over.” He waived at Maria.

 

For a moment the room was so quiet that we could have heard a pin drop. I began to sweat. What is she waiting for? I tried to turn my head, but it was impossible due to the collar.  Then the stroke came. It was almost a relief, but then I felt the warmed. I tried to shake the pain off, but it was impossible. Then I remembered. If the stroke should count, I had to do the counting myself.

 

“One”

 

The room was silent. Again I endured the torture of the wait. Without notice the second stroke hit me. The pain went through my body as waives. I managed to regain control.

 

“Two”

 

I was about to catch my breath, when third stroke hit me. It was to fast. It caught me off guard. I let out a small cry. But I managed to stammer “Three”.

 

Just as I had said it, the fourth stroke came. It made me sob. I pulled at the restraint but it was of no use. She had broken me. With a low voice I said:

 

“Four”

 

I continued to sob a little, but then I noticed that Mr. Skinner just looked at me with disgust. Then I felt it. My member had turned hard. As I tried to look him the eye, the final stroke came. She must have used all her force, because I hurt a lot more than the previous strokes. With a sobbing voice I managed to confirm the last blow.

 

“Five”

 

Maria came over to me and kneeled beside me. “Poor darling: No one has disciplined you and taken care of you since the death of your mother. But rest assure. Now I am here for you. I can see that you are confused and in fact have been reaching out for a firm hand.” I felt that she touched my member. “You liked to be disciplined. You have in fact missed it.” Mr. Skinner nodded to Maria and left the room. She rose and went behind me. Then she commanded me “Open your mouth!”

 

When I did she pulled some leather hood down over my head. There were openings for the mouth and eyes. Inside there was a gag-ball, which went into my mouth. She laced the hood tight and then she attached two leather pieces over my eyes and my mouth. I was in total darkness. She continued to touch me various places. Just I was about to explode, I felt something being tightened around the base of my scrotum.

 

What now? Suddenly I felt something cold on my buttocks. It was something which felt nice as she smeared it out over my warm and still hurting behind.

 

When she was finished, she turned her attention to my member again. She squeezed my ball softly and I moaned into my gag. I so wanted release. My breathing was heavy. And my balls began to hurt due to excitement. It seems to on forever. Then she realized my member. I came. It was so good. Of course I had played with myself before. But this was nothing compared to this. It is unbelievable. The flow seemed to go on forever. Then I pass out.

 

When I came around the hood and Maria was gone and I was released. Mr. Skinner was back in the room.

“Young man: Put your clothes on again. I feel it as this kind of punishment is a waste on you but I have to warn you that the number of strokes would double next time. So behave.”

 

The rest of the day went on without incidents. When I returned home Maria was cleaning and she acted as the episode at school had never taken place. My father popped in when he returned home late and told me that the use of corporal punishment was one of the reasons, he enrolled me at this school.

 

Time went by and I took my schoolwork serious. Of course Maria’s treatment was nice, but not worth having your butt spanked 10 times with the board.

 

Then a year ago Maria received a phone call from home which made her cry. My father, who was home for a change, talked to her and learned that her mother had died. He comforted her and told me to order a pizza for myself, because he was going to take Maria out for lunch out of pity for her.

 

They left and I enjoyed my pizza. It was almost like the old days. I stole a couple of beers from the fridge and had a really good time before I went to sleep.

 

The next morning I went by my father’s bedroom and saw them sleeping together. I was shocked and torn apart. She was going after us both. Could I tell my father? Would he believe me?

 

14 days later they married quietly. It was just us three and the minister.

 

First our lives continued to go on as before. I went to high school after graduating from the Christian school but did not have any plans after that. I was thinking of getting a job to let time go until I had found out what to do. Maria did as she used to do – without the maid uniform of course.

 

But slowly she began to make demands. They wanted me to do some chores, but were this not what Maria came here for. The next months were one fight after another. Just last weekend we were fighting over beers missing from the garage. I was me that had stolen them, but father had never bothered to complain about it. But Maria interfered in everything at our house. I hated her.

 

And now the news about my father on the top of it all – it was almost too much. My teacher took me down to the street where a cab waited for me to take me to the hospital. On arrived I ran into to the E.R. only to be greeted by a Maria dissolved from tears.

 

“Oh. Rick. It is too late. His car broke down on the highway and before he could get out, he was hit by a truck. He is dead.” She began to cry.

 

The next weeks went on as it was a nightmare. The funeral was awful. Now it was just Maria and me. I was spending all day lying in bed. I did not want to do anything. I had lost both my parents. My life seemed to be at end.

 

(To be continued)


Review This Story || Author: JensenDenmark
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