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The warehouse
Part 2

by Graham

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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: 31 Dec 2017

Over the next 10 months, Mr. Oublet’s stringent supervision, control, and discipline of Daniel Koernig’s work continued. Additionally, the strict regimen of being taken down into the underground cellar for sequestered discipline became routine for any and every infraction the youth committed.

Always, Mr. Oublet was very forceful, strong, and uncompromising with Daniel. The first spanks of each and every spanking always took the young man by surprise, despite his lifelong acquaintance with such discipline from his Father, and his accumulating experience with the warehouse foreman.

Daniel tried not to cry out, trying to maintain his determination to remain quiet throughout the ordeal. There was no let up though, because from Mr. Oublet the youth consistently received the hardest spankings of his young life.

Wiggling around on the big foreman’s large, muscled lap, as his arm continued rising and falling with the paddle in his hand, Daniel tried to squirm and writhe and wriggle away. In short time, the foreman had the boy’s backside hot and stinging and burning like a thousand bees or flaming hot porcupine quills.

Later, appearing slightly amused, Mr. Oublet confessed he had never seen a bottom turn from white to red so soon, nor a fighting, resistant young man, upended for a spanking, collapse and surrender with submissive defeat so fast amidst gushing tears and bawling.

No doubt about it, Jungling, you are a boy who needs to be spanked hard and often, made for spankings, he declared.

Ooo-ooo-huh-ow-ow-aaaa-Muh-ister Oublet, it-uh-huh-urrrrtz Noooo-uh-baaed!

Spankings are supposed to hurt, Jungling. You need them to hurt, so you will remember, and be afraid of doing something that deserves another one, the foreman answered.

Apart from Daniel’s gulping gasps for breath, interrupting his shrieking pleas and begging promises, the only other sound to be heard in the room was the continuing smack, and whack, and crack of the paddle on the boy’s sizzling buttocks.

When finally the spanking came to a stop, if Daniel attempted to rise, the foreman’s firm hand pushed the youth back down, holding him overhanging in place.

Not yet, he exclaimed, You have more coming, more you have earned, need – the strap.

The biting, blistering leather lashed Daniel’s small, narrow, already deep, dark, red, wounded, hot bottom and upper legs over and over. He could not hold back.

His whole lean body stiffened momentarily, and he uttered a desperate, wail, crying out, but succumbing to accept the bitter, harsh remainder of the severe, intense licking being applied. At that point, the flow of gulping, sobbing tears was unrestrained.

Oooooaaaaa-ow-howow-ow-huh-uh-uh-waaaa-uh-uh-wuh-uh-aaaaa-ow-oooo-hooo-uh-huh-uh-uh-waaaaaaa! Daniel squealed, crying in despondent desperation and defeat as it seemed like the strap would flay away the flesh from his tender, youthful cheeks and thighs with a blow torch.

Mr. Oublet did not cease or let up, however, and the young man felt sure he would have no glutteals left to ever sit down on again. Ultimately, the youth gave in, acceding and acquiescing to accept the licking he was getting, that seemed as if it would never end.

The youth was a mass of confused emotions and physical feelings. His rearend and upper legs were throbbing, his erection was huge, and his mind full of shame and humiliation as over the last few minutes he had been unable to keep from begging and kicking his legs wildly, as Mr. Oublet surveyed every, shocking, shameful, private thing about Daniel, from his tight, little anus to his engorged, raging, stiff hard-on.

When the big foreman finally stopped and released him, Daniel struggled to his feet wailing and bawling while clasping his singed bottom, oblivious to the usual effect a spanking had on his inexperienced penis, standing bobbing stiffly out in front of him.

He was shocked when the big man’s large hand took hold of the boyish boner, applying several, sensual rubs. All at once, Daniel exploded, firing round after round of ejaculated semen propelled from his youthful, bottle rocket.

You have to learn to control yourself, as well as behave and obey, young man. Go sit on that chair for a while, he ordered, unquestionably in complete control of the situation.

If you-ou-do-ooon’t mind, uh, I’ll-uh-stuh-and fuh-or ah-ah-whillllle, Daniel stammered through his gagging tears.

I do mind, you impertinent jungling! I told you to sit down on that chair! That is exactly what you are to do. It looks like you need another session of persuasion.

With that, the foreman grabbed the terrified boy and hauled him back upside down over his lap again. He re-lit the fire that systematically seared the small, narrow, young bottom and lean, scorched upper legs until Daniel was nothing but a small, begging child, spanked and sorry, frantically helpless to avoid the punishment he was getting.

When his boss completed round 2, Daniel was let up again, and doubled over with his arms behind him and his hands on his roasted rump and thighs.

Fleeing to the chair, he forced himself to lower his excruciating butt down onto the seat. The painful, weighted contact triggered more heavy sobbing from as he sat there squirming and trying to endure the hurtful fate.

Daniel was made to sit for 20 minutes or so before next being ordered to stand and insert his face and nose into a corner of the basement. The foreman climbed the stairs up from the cellar, locking the behind him, leaving the broken, penitent Daniel Koernig standing, face in the corner, heaving and weeping as he remained in that posture in the corner, admonished not to leave until he was permitted to do so..

Daniel found himself marooned in the corner to which he’d been exiled. On occasion, he was left to stand there in agony, his hands, that longed to try to extinguish the blistering pain on his buttocks and thighs, kept in place on his head for more than an hour.

The frustration, dread, and unrequited pain gnawed at the grieving youth until, weeping softly, he felt as if he might go insane unless some letup from his confinement were forthcoming. He did not, of course, but one thing that always happened was his resolve, once he had been released from the corner, and allowed to redress, never to get into a situation requiring him to be punished by the foreman again.

Daniel Koernig was a good, conscientious, young man, but still a youthful, mortal boy. He could go three, perhaps four, days without running afoul of the foreman, before he was ordered to retreat to the basement to await his discipline.

Each night at home, after supper, he retired to his room to ruminate on his problematic predicament. He would improve more, impress Mr. Oublet, so the foreman would be heaping praise on him, instead of lashes from a strap.

The foreman’s intention of grooming the young man into a warehouse supervisor led him after several months to entrust a key to Daniel. The youth began getting into his bed by 9 p.m., so that even after frequent, recurrent wanks to relieve the anxious stresses and tension, he would have at least a solid 8 hours of sleep when he awoke at 6 a.m.

Bathing quickly and quietly, he would grab some food from the fridge to eat later for a morning breakfast, and for lunch. Setting off on a bicycle, he rode off as dawn was breaking.

He arrived at the warehouse before 7 a.m., let himself in with the key, and immediately made coffee that he knew the workers, and their foreman, Mr. Oublet, would immediately relish and consume. After that, he began sorting the appliances to go out that day into groupings for the appropriate trucks to deliver them.

Always early himself, Mr. Oublet arrived at 8 a.m., surprised to find Daniel already there and working. Noting also favourably the ready coffee, he poured himself a cup.

The day went surprisingly well, and Daniel felt he could detect the effects of the good impression he had achieved with his foreman. When 5:30 p.m. came, and the rest of the employees left for the day, Daniel remained, planning and scheduling for the next day’s deliveries and pick-ups.

It was after 7 p.m., when he rode his bicycle home in the dusk. His parents were concerned and questioned him about his late arrival.

It was not until that moment that Daniel had even thought about the lack of notice to his parents about his early departure and late return for that day. He felt the horror and guilt of his lack of considerate forethought.

We could not reach you. No one answered the telephone after 5:30, when we began calling, Daniel, his Mother explained in an anxious, worried voice. We went ahead, at Father’s advice, and ate dinner, but did so in concern, though we made a plate for you, son.

She set out the plate before him, along with a glass of milk, watching as he hastily said grace and began inhaling the meal. Thank you, Momma, he replied.

I’m sorry to cause you worry. I was so intent on worker harder, to gain Mr. Oublet’s approval, I forgot to tell you and Father I would be getting up earlier and leaving, and coming home later, each day.

Really, Daniel? Why is that necessary? What time will you be home for dinner? We need to know, to avoid worrying so, and also to plan dinner, she explained to her son.

Ah, I’m leaving in the morning about 6, and I don’t know what time I’ll be home at night, he answered. It’s needed, ah, Momma, because I need the extra time and effort to show Mr. Oublet that I can be trusted, that he can place more responsibility and trust in my hands.

Well, that’s a commendable attitude and conduct, son, Daniel’s Father spoke up. However, you are still our sin, living with us, our charge and our concern.

Your Mother prepares dinner every night, and she’s entitled to know you will be present when she serves it. In addition, we are concerned to know that you, our son, are safe and well and free from harm. We should not have to wait, anxiously seeking the good Lord’s protection over you until you finally come straggling home.

Pappa, I’m almost 19! I can look after myself! You don’t need to be wondering and worrying about me! I know what I’m doing! Daniel answered back in a bit of a disdainful tone of voice.

You watch yourself, young man, Mr. Koernig quickly cut off his son’s remarks. We won’t have to wonder and worry about you, because you will be arriving at a definite time, sitting down at the table at a definite time with us. That is the way it is to be.

Ah, ah, now, Father, you don’t understand, and, ah,... you don’t, ah, give me credit for, um, knowing what I am doing, Daniel protested. I have to make my own way, my own decisions, he added.

No, young man, what you have to do is obey, be respectful, and considerate of your parents, especially your Mother. Put those dishes away for her, and you are taking a trip to the barn with me.

Daniel’s head shot up, and his eyes stared with seriously concerned alarm. For what, Pappa?! I was just trying to explain, to, ah, tell you, aaaaah...

The young, warehouse foreman’s assistant found himself suddenly on his feet, pulled up by the strong, firm grip of his Fathers’ hand on the boy’s thin arm. Before he could assume a stance and face his Father, he found himself being frogmarched from the kitchen, and the house, straight out to the barn.

Inside, Mr. Koernig closed the barn door solidly closed. Turning to his son, he began the ritual with which Daniel Koernig was all-too-familiar: undressing the boy before he would get a whipping.

Daniel’s physique and stature stiffened and drew up to his full 5′ 10″, 135 lb state. He stood more like an inanimate statue, than a youth on the cusp of being reminded of his subordinate, youthful status. In less than 2 minutes, the denuded young man was still standing unmoving, though his eyes were welling with tears, and his tightened jaw was clenching.

Mr. Koernig took hold again of his young adult son’s same thing arm, to steer the youth around with him. Sitting down on a hay bale, he pulled the terrified young man forward and downward, sprawled across the paternal legs.

Daniel could not speak, from fear and from knowing he would lose control of his frightened emotions, to begin squalling and crying. Mr. Koernig did not speak, but picked up the old, bath brush that was always left in the barn, to begin addressing the boyish bottom that had suddenly become too big for the denim britches that had surrounded it.

After the first 4 or 5 smacks, which startled his son’s attentions abruptly, the Father stopped, moving his naked son around on his lap, placing the boy’s head and arms past Mr. Koernig’s left arm and shoulder, and placing his right knee between the boy’s widely separated legs.

Once he was certain Daniel was in the desired position, presenting the desire target, Mr. Koernig, returned to applying the brush to the entire rearend and backs of the youthful thighs. In less than a minute and a half, Daniel was calling out, crying out, shouting, screaming, shrieking, wailing high-pitched sobs and bawling.

He bucked and bumped around on his Father’s lap and knee. The brush ignited his bottom like flames to dry brush and bushes. As he writhed and squirmed around in vain on his Father’s knee, the young man’s surging hard-on grew more and more insistent and demanding of relief.

Every smack not only shot currents of pain from the boyish bottom to his brain, it launched movements that stimulated the young boner, stirring it from mild to wild, clamouring hunger. Daniel was bawling repetitive sobs, gasping and gulping for air, yet his wanker only overrode his hurting pain and shameful disgrace with a need that ultimately would not be ignored or denied.

As Mr. Koernig painted his young, adult son’s behind and upper legs a fire engine red, he recognized a familiar manner of reacting, even submitting, that in recent years had inevitably ended in a sexual climax for the boy. He worried about this phenomenon, but not to the extent he was going to spare this upstart young man the comeuppance his impertinent mouth and attitude had earned and brought on him.

Daniel was wailing frantically, as much from shame and pain, as from the awareness he was being driven, propelled, over the edge, unable to hold back, to suppress and refrain from the steam rolling orgasm surging within him. He stiffened, like rigour mortis, then collapsed, shouting sounds of distress and relief.

Uh-uh-uh-aaa-uh-huh-uh-nuh-ooo-uh-yeaaaaaaah! His young member exploded, shooting pent-up, youthful, virgin semen all over himself, the barn floor, and his Father’s legs. Mr. Koernig simply responded by accelerating the intense swats smiting the seared flesh of his young son’s mounds and thighs.

At last, he observed and felt the slumping, full surrender of his errant son. With a final volley of spanks to impress on the hurting youth the gravity of his misbehaviour, he brought the evening spanking to a close.

Gently, but firmly, he lifted the decimated young man off his lap, watching the youth’s arms fly back behind him to grasp and clasp and massage and knead the scorched cheeks and thighs. Picking up Daniel’s briefs, Mr. Koernig wiped dry the young man’s genitals, abdomen, and legs.

Into the house, and straight to bed, young man. We will see you, at the table for dinner, at 7 tomorrow night. Be on time.

With that, the thin, naked, defeated silhouette darted from the barn, to the house, and to his bedroom, where he fled into bed. The ejaculation he experienced while being spanked across his Father’s knee would not be the last one during that night.

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