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Carl's Summer Job
Part 1

by Brhmsj

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Copyright on this story text belongs at all times to the original author only, whether stated explicitly in the text or not. The original date of posting to the MMSA was: 01 Dec 2017

Carl’s Summer Job

We’ve met Carl in the Dan and Joe series in which he proves to be a delighted convert to the naked life, especially with Frank, but a reluctant spankee when Dan and Joe require him to get a spanking in exchange for play time with them. We also have met, briefly, Mr. Schmidt, a firm believer in spankings for older teens. This series about Carl tells how Mr. Schmidt entered the lives of these boys. Carl took a job with Mr. Schmidt the summer after high school, and over that summer Carl had experiences which changed his thinking about spanking. It seems right that Carl get a story (or maybe more) on his own, and in this story of his we introduce Mr. Schmidt. Frank will make a few appearances, too.

Frank and Carl were seniors in high school which meant that June was graduation. Both had been accepted at colleges of their choice but between June and September they needed to fill their time. Our four friends had their usual summer family vacations. The younger boys didn’t have summer jobs, but were kept busy at their respective homes, so hardly were goofing off for a couple of months. Frank had a job at a fast food joint, to earn some pocket money for the fall. He hated it, but liked the money, so kept at it.

Carl’s parents felt that he would benefit from a summer job, with no preference as to what he did. There was an older man nearby who Carl knew usually had boys who had just finished high school doing gardening, mowing, and other odd jobs for their summer before college. Everyone he knew who’d work for Mr. Schmidt seemed to have enjoyed it, spoke well of the man, and certainly had been paid well. Before Memorial Day Carl stopped by Mr. Schmidt’s house and enquired about giving him summer help. He was invited in and Mr. Schmidt told him about what help he needed, how many days he might need that help, and the generous compensation, which included lunch most days and even a dinner if things went late. Carl thought this sounded great.

Discussion concluded, Mr. Schmidt showed Carl where he stored all his yard equipment. The house’s basement was one large room, furnished as a very informal den. Through a door was the garage with garden tools, rakes, a lawn mower, and the like. One corner of the den area was an open shower. Carl’s attention was taken with the various items which Mr. Schmidt was showing him so he took little notice of the shower. Tour and discussion done, Carl said he was eager to start. Mr. Schmidt told Carl that some other boys had inquired about summer work, too, so he had to make a decision but would call in a day or two.

The call did come, as promised, and Carl was invited over to Mr. Schmidt’s house. He was offered the job and it was agreed that he work Saturdays until after graduation, then he’d add one or two extra days during the week as needed. A handshake and the boy was on his way, excitedly sharing the news with his parents who were proud of his initiative.

Before he was out the door, Mr. Schmidt had one more comment. The work is dirty and sweaty, especially sweaty in the hot weather, so I advise you bring a change of clothes when you come over. Carl said OK. He thought it a bit odd, since he lived so close by and could just go home and clean up, bathe, and change clothes. He had forgotten it by the time he arrived home. Little did he know that this was a mistake.

Saturday arrived. Given that he would be working outside, and the weather was already warm, Carl put on one of his older t-shirts and a pair of short cutoffs that he liked to wear when helping his father around the yard. That year he’d been going commando most weekends, just for the fun of it and enjoying it quite a bit. He planned to do it full time over the summer. Frank had noticed but so far had not taken it up. Carl’s shorts showed off his long legs nicely and, especially when he was commando, they hugged his butt. Carl had never thought of the shorts as showing him off, he just liked them.

Carl presented himself at Mr. Schmidt’s at ten o’clock, as agreed. The first hours were spent with Carl being shown the various flower gardens that covered all of the property. It wasn’t a large property, but Mr. Schmidt had seen to it that he had a large variety of plants and flowers, all arranged in various spots, blooming at various times of the season, all making both the front and back lawns the most colorful in the neighborhood. About twelve thirty Mr. Schmidt said let’s have some lunch, then we can start some work out here. They went inside. Sandwiches and cold drinks made for a good lunch.

Mr. Schmidt was older than Carl’s parents, though not in the grandparent age-range. Carl already was coming to view the man as a father figure; something about the man was fatherly and his whole attitude was one that made the boy feel comfortable and at home, even this early in their relationship. Before the afternoon was done he inadvertently called Mr. Schmidt daddy, a term he didn’t use at home where he always called his own father dad.

After lunch Mr. Schmidt piled up the dishes in the sink, then the two went back down to the basement. He told Carl to get the lawn mower and bring it out back. Once outside he showed the boy what needed mowing and how he wanted it done. I’ll keep an eye on you this time just to be sure you understand. Carl was fine with that. He set to mowing the lawn which took about an hour. While he was busy with that, Mr. Schmidt was trimming shrubs and flowers in the same part of the yard, keeping an eye on the boy as he pushed the mower. Reaching what seemed the appropriate stopping point Carl turned off the mower and asked Mr. Schmidt if his work was satisfactory.

Very good, son, was the reply. If you keep working this well we will have a good summer together. He smiled at the boy, who beamed with pleasure at the compliment. Now, I’d like you to dig up this bed. I’ll explain as you go along. Mr. Schmidt had brought out a spade. Carl had to get down on his knees to do the work, but didn’t mind. Mr. Schmidt stood over him giving instructions as to just how to do the job. By the time that was finished it was around three o’clock and Carl was, as predicted, dirty and sweaty. His body and clothing needed a good washing.

That’s it for today, my boy, said Mr. Schmidt. You’re off to good start.

Thanks, daddy, Carl said. As soon as the word daddy was out of his mouth he gave a sharp intake of breath in shock at what he’d said, blushing deeply. Mr. Schmidt gave a kindly chuckle.

If you’re comfortable calling me daddy I’m fine with that. For some reason many of the boys who’ve helped me over the years with yard work call me that. I’ve never asked anyone to, but I do enjoy it. I’ve never had a family, so it gives me a little innocent vicarious pleasure, I guess.

Thank you, sir, Carl replied, still red-faced. Mr. Schmidt put a hand on Carl’s upper back and they headed toward the basement. At the door he asked did you bring your change of clothes?

Oh! Carl responded in surprise. I guess I. . . I guess I forgot. But it’s ok. I can just wash my hands and go home to clean up and change.

Oh dear me, no, said the man as they stepped inside and he shut the door. We can’t have you going home like that. I can wash your clothes while you shower and then you can go home fresh and clean, which will please your mother, I’m sure.

Shower? Carl asked, feeling confused.

Of course. It’s right there. There’s soap and shampoo and I have a towel out for you, so all you need to do is give me your clothes and get under the water. He said this in a very matter-of-fact tone, as if this had long since been agreed upon. Carl was disconcerted. He was still new to all this nudity stuff, but that was with his friends. This was an older man, and new in Carl’s life. Was this weird? Well, Mr. Schmidt was right, Carl was dirty and sweaty and a shower sure would feel good.

Let’s get to it, son. Hand over your clothes so I can wash them. Carl removed his sneakers. He pulled off his t-shirt which was handed over. As he went to the button on his cut-offs he remembered that he wasn’t wearing underwear. There was a slight hesitation. He had to be naked to shower, so what did it matter, but Mr. Schmidt might think it weird that he didn’t have anything under his shorts. However, they soon were handed over, with no comment from Mr. Schmidt about the lack of underwear. He’d seen boys commando before and likely would again. The shower is easy to adjust, so help yourself.

Carl turned on the water and settled in to shower. There was another side room which was the laundry into which Mr. Schmidt disappeared. Carl lost himself in the pleasure of the shower and it wasn’t until he’d finished and was reaching for the towel that he noticed the man sitting in the den area, in a chair positioned so that he could observe the shower area. Carl blushed a bit again, but continued to dry off.

Join me over here when you’re done, Mr. Schmidt said. Carl said sure. Toweling done he started to wrap the towel around his waist. No need for that, the man said from across the room. We can’t have false modesty here. Just drop the towel in that hamper so I can wash it later. Carl was disconcerted again. He would be naked until the laundry was done? OK, this afternoon was weird, and maybe getting more so. After another hesitation he did as instructed, walked over and sat on the couch as indicated by the man.

How do you feel about the work?

It’s good. I liked it and I’m glad to help, Carl answered, quite honestly.

Good, good, that’s what I like to hear. Now, there is something else you need to know about your work this summer. Whenever you help me you always will be paid, even if, for any reason, the work is not what I expect it to be. Should your work be unsatisfactory I will spank you. Again, said very matter-of-factly. Nonetheless, Carl went red again. He hadn’t been spanked in years and now, after two from his father, here was an older man saying that he would do so if he deemed it necessary. He wasn’t counting the ones with Dan and Joe.

I don’t think that will be necessary, the boy said, hoping his reply would end this particular discussion.

We shall see, was the reply. Mr. Schmidt had positioned his chair and the couch such that he had a good look at whoever was seated on the couch. He could readily see if a boy’s reaction to certain comments or questions included a reaction below his waist. The mention of spanking had caused just a slight stiffening, but not enough to give the man a clear idea of what the reaction meant, if anything. Carl had no idea how to interpret that answer. Immediately he found out.

Unfortunately for you your first infraction happened today. Not your work, that was very good. You did not follow instructions and bring a change of clothing. If this working arrangement is going to work out I have to feel confident that you can follow directions. This means I have to spank you now. This was all said, again, very matter-of-factly, as if everything had been agreed upon and this was just the way things normally went.

Carl’s mouth went dry and he could say nothing. Now, rather than a blush, the color was draining from his face. He liked the job so far and wanted the extra money he’d earn. It would be weird if he quit the job and there was no way he could tell his parents he’d quit because Mr. Schmidt threatened a spanking. Or had given him one! Please stand up.

Yes, sir, Carl said, his mouth still dry.

Yes what? Mr. Schmidt responded.

For a moment Carl was unsure what was meant by that, then he blurted out yes, Daddy. Mr. Schmidt smiled at the response. Slowly Carl stood. Mr. Schmidt came over and sat in the middle of the couch. Carl was taken over his lap. Over the years Mr. Schmidt had had many newly graduated high school boys work for him; rarely had one worked more than one summer. He liked it this way. Not one boy escaped at least one spanking over the course of a summer, though there were some that were only spanked once, which in a way was disappointing to Mr. Schmidt. Every summer he took delight in comparing each new bottom to all the others. Most summers he felt that he had yet another fine teenage bottom to work on. He thought Carl to have a particularly nice shape and spent a moment taking in the boy’s entire backside. Carl was not a particularly hairy boy, his legs lightly covered with light brown hair, lighter than the hair on his head. His bottom had an even lighter dusting of hair, which Mr. Schmidt found particularly attractive. In front his bush was not particularly thick, balls relatively smooth, a hint of a treasure trail dropping down from his navel.

Lying there, Carl was increasingly nervous, wondering just what this would be like. He hated the thought that it might be like the spankings he’d recently received from Dad. He doubted, though, that it would be fun like the one from Joe and Dan.

The spanking started. It was steady. It was unlike any of the few spankings Carl had received so far. Harder than Dan, but not as hard as Dad. Yet it was a spanking that made it clear that he’d been a bad boy. That’s just what he began to feel like – a boy. Being made to say daddy and now in this childish position yet again, he felt himself regressing. He didn’t feel like he wanted to cry, even as the sting increased. The spanking was having the intended effect – he felt heartily sorry for his forgetfulness which had clearly disappointed this man who expected so much from him.

The smacks continued steadily. Carl made no effort to count, nor did he care. As the sting mounted still he felt no urge to cry, but he did feel real humiliation at the disappointment he’d caused and for being in this childish position. How many minutes the spanking went on he had no idea. It was long, though. Mr. Schmidt had just the right technique to make it a long spanking, which seemed to be his goal, rather than simply a hard spanking.

As the spanking continued Carl suddenly cried out, Daddy, I’m sorry! I’ll be more careful! He thought he heard Mr. Schmidt say hm, but the spanking continued. A few more swats and Please, daddy, I’ll be good!

Now Mr. Schmidt did respond. Yes you will, son. The spanking wound down. Carl was sore, that was for sure! He knew he wouldn’t forget this, even if it was different from those spankings from Dad. He needed to think about this; he didn’t know what to make of it at the moment. Spanking done, Mr. Schmidt rested his hand on Carl’s bottom. Carl could tell that his bottom was radiating heat. He wondered how red he was. Good timing, said Mr. Schmidt after a moment. The washer is done. Stand up. Carl did. Stay there while I put your clothes in the dryer. Carl’s eyes followed him as he crossed over to the washer and dryer, in view through the door, then watched as his two pieces of clothing went into the dryer. Mr. Schmidt set the dial, pushed a button, and the machine whirred into motion.

Mr. Schmidt returned to the couch, seating himself in one corner. He patted his thigh and said, come sit on Daddy’s lap. This was just getting weirder and weirder, Carl thought. He thought he should just leave. Well, he was naked and his clothes were wet. Still, in this regression the pleasurable memory of sitting on laps when he was small came over him. That, combined with Mr. Schmidt’s fatherly manner and the something about him which made Carl want to obey, was what it took and Carl did, in fact, obey, settling himself gently on the man’s lap. Mr. Schmidt expertly made sure the boy was seated so that the man could see how the teen’s cock responded as discussion touched on different topics.

It started quite innocently with Mr. Schmidt getting to know more about Carl, his family, his interests, his college plans. The man’s arms were around Carl’s waist, but he made no other move to touch the boy. Carl had an arm around the man’s neck, keeping himself in place. Learning the basics, Mr. Schmidt gently began to inquire about Carl’s friends, deftly leading the conversation to elicit information about the young man’s sexual activities. The flow was so smooth that Carl was sharing all sorts of intimate information that he never imagined he’d tell anyone other than Frank, who knew just about everything now. Before the buzzer on the dryer sounded Mr. Schmidt knew the boy’s masturbation habits and a bit about his fun with Frank. Even the recent spankings from Dad were talked about.

A close eye was kept by Mr. Schmidt on Carl’s reactions to the various aspects of these talks. Spanking still had little response, but the boy was unaware that he’d become fully hard as he discussed his naked time with Frank. Mr. Schmidt took note, saving the knowledge for whatever use he might make of it someday, if at all. Some more discussion and Carl was soft again which was good as the dryer buzzer had sounded and it was time for him to dress and go home.

As Carl dressed, Mr. Schmidt said No one will know about your spankings, unless you choose to share with your friends.

Carl found himself answering, thank you, daddy, and that was the end of it. Mr. Schmidt wrote him a generous check (he always paid his summer help well) and sent Carl on his until the next Saturday.

This first day’s spanking was by no means the only spanking Carl received that summer from Mr. Schmidt. He was spanked on his last day. Mr. Schmidt said that Carl needed a last-day spanking to match the one he received on the first day. There were others for inefficient work, more at the whim of Mr. Schmidt as Carl’s work was excellent all summer, but Mr. Schmidt enjoyed spanking this boy and Carl always acquiesced. In fact, after only that first spanking Carl began to want to be spanked by the older man. More than once he forgot his change of clothes, which always resulted in a spanking. Some of those times Mr. Schmidt suspected that clothes had purposely been forgotten. Which, in fact, was the case. So, over the course of the summer Carl was regularly spanked. By the time he was leaving for college he agreed with Mr. Schmidt that it was good for him. A fulfilling summer. He enjoyed the work and was well spanked.

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