This is not my story, but was written by a friend who asked me to post it for him. Any comments can be sent to me and I will forward to him. I hope you enjoy.
A LESSON WORTH LEARNING by Nobelegg
Early October in central Indiana, deep in the heart of the Midwest, meant one thing, and one thing only: Halloween! Everywhere along the highways and roads in the Back 40s, to utilize the parlance of the locale, could be seen fields of brown corn stalks, which only weeks before sported a crop so rich and golden, King Midas would have been envious. A closer look at many of these fields near local communities would expose a sort of maze to entertain and challenge all comers, near or far. No two mazes of dying maize were identical, save for one important feature: the stalks were so high that when someone was engaged in traipsing through the man-made natural labyrinth, only the direct path ahead and the sky could be seen. Only Goliath would be able to scale the upper surface of the maze with his eyes, but he would lose his way almost as easily as he lost his head. The sun in the sky rose a minute later each morning, and set a minute earlier each evening, giving those who wanted to risk the mazes more darkness in which to play. More often than not, a guide would have to be summoned to lead a wanderer from venturing further astray to the only exit the maze availed. In a sense, those who managed the attraction were not only proud of their creation and its alluring feature, but also laughs when those allured would be compelled to send up a yell of distress, imploring someone -- anyone -- to come and help. This went on every October evening, weather permitting, of course, for in Indiana, if there is but a single thing most predictable, it is the unpredictability of the weather. Many families have owned their farms for generations upon generations, passing the secrets of the mazes to scions to create when they took over the farms. In the small hamlet of Kingston, Indiana, located almost along the north/south county line separating Henry and Wayne counties, a three-storied brick school building, the likes of which cannot be found on a contemporary engineer's planning desk, provides a quality education for K-12 students. Set on the southernmost outskirts of town, Kingston Community School hoists no state basketball championship banners. The in-wall trophy cases are empty, the glass shelves laced in dust almost as old as the building itself when it was erected nearly half a century ago. Yet, in every classroom, a neat and pristine aura could be seen and nearly heard to bid each student a down-home welcome to another day of learning. Kingston, Indiana, itself is adorned with seasonal flair -- not because it is 1957, but because the denizens of Kingston are celebrating their town's sesquicentennial anniversary. On November 1, right after all the trick-or-treaters are stuffed with candy and their parents are safely home from annual reveling of mayhem and innocent mischief, the streets of Kingston would be lined with people from all over the state attending a parade, followed by a plethora of long-winded and meaningless speeches by urban dignitaries and state government officials. Rumours have it this year, the Governor himself plans to attend, but that remains to be seen inasmuch as it is yet two weeks from now. Looking outside his office window at the clouds forming overhead, blocking out the sun but not marring the Indian Summer weather, Principal Max Stone offers a rare smile on his face even his reflection in the window finds hard to interpret. A proud man of exceptional education, Principal Stone takes immense pride in his office. For as long as he can remember, not a single student ever dropped out from school, and every student who passed through his supervised halls at Kingston Community School either graduated from high school or moved away beforehand. Of course, that does not include the one student -- oh, what was her name again? -- who entered a convent at her mother's insistence (relax, dear reader; there was no scandalous reason behind it; sorry!) when she turned fourteen back in -- well it hardly matters now, particularly to Maxwell Elliott Stone. As far as he was concerned, his record of producing educated students who turned their tassels remains unblemished. Perhaps this was why his wry smile escaped his face for the disbelieving reflection. Turning around, Principal Stone glanced at a stack of papers neatly arranged in a perfect pile, one atop the other. A closer look revealed to Stone the papers were signed parental release forms from students in Mr. Stover's senior Biology class to attend a hike through the corn maze adjacent to the rear of the school building, starting when class began the last hour of the school day, and to conclude near 5:00 P.M., when all students are to be collected from the front of the school by their parents. A quick look at his watch told Principal Stone the time for the students to head out for the maze was drawing nigh, and if he had any intention of accompanying them, unbeknownst to -- yet expected by -- the class of seniors, then he had better get his coat on and head to the classroom. Leaving his office via his secretary's cubicle, Stone waved a nonchalant hand to Miss Dean, who waved Stone off with the same apathetic gesture. Not looking back, Stone headed to the classroom, located in the far eastern basement corner of the school. There, in the corridor, fastening up coats and sweaters, Mr. Stover's class of eager hikers were chatting in hushed tones, exhibiting respect to the adjoining classroom full of students poring over textbooks of unspecified ennui. With the agile dexterity of a nun during p rayers, Stone came alongside Andy DuFresne, an incredibly intelligent student who was outstanding in math and accounting. It was spread all around town that Andy DuFresne wanted to leave Kingston for the great State of Maine, where he would someday become a CPA, working for a prominent bank. Such was
Andy's fortitude and temerity to pursue what he wanted until he eventually got it, regardless of what it could possibly be. In conjoined silence, Principal Stone acknowledged Andy while Andy nodded a courtesy obligatory compliment. The group was ready, but one final roll call had to be conducted. With his grade book in hand, Jack Stover read off each name in alphabetical succession, noting a vocal "HERE" response before progressing to the ensuing student's name. With eighteen names came eighteen "HEREs", so Jack tucked his grade book inside his overcoat, closed and locked his classroom door, and, together with Principal Stone, mushed his students outside the school doors an onto their hike just across the dirt lane that ran parallel with the school. The road belonged to the town of Kingston, but everyone knew when snowy weather claimed the road, Principal Stone would be the one out there in the wee hours of the cold mornings to plow the road so his faculty could park their cars in the lot along the western wall of the building. Within ten brief minutes, Jack Stover began issuing safety regulations to his students. They were allowed to explore the maze, but only on a buddy system, meaning no one was permitted to travel alone. According to the circle of eight girls, that was perfectly fine with them; they had heard an endless barrage of horror stories occurring in the maze they were about to enter. Or was it the one on the other side of town? Or how about the one owned by the Bjornsens? With due provocation, Bjorn Bjornsen issued a dissatisfying frown to the girls he deemed more of a coven than a group. The moment passing, Jack Stover received verbal certification that every student understood the rules and would comply by them seconds before he bade them to have fun. Jack and Principal Stone would take their own tour by following the students ten minutes hence. This gave the students ample time to do some discovering on their own. Andy DeFresne and Bjorn Bjornsen had been friends forever. Their birthdays only weeks apart, the older Andy adopted Bjorn as his best friend, being Bjorn was an only child. Throughout their lives, they involved themselves in one mischievous antic after another, typically one step ahead of being taken to the woodshed by an adult whose property they maligned. Tonight would be no different. The maze waited for them to enter, and they certainly had no intention upon being disappointed when it was overtly astute another adventure beckoned them. Two-by-two's, the students entered the maze, Andy and Bjorn taking up the rear. According to Bjorn's watch, they had five or so minutes before Principal Stone and Mr. Stover were to follow, so they decided to take full advantage of their freedom. Instead of venturing this way and that through a pattern of uncertainties, the boys decided they would cut straight through the cornfield and beat everyone else out on the other side. With unleveled stalks slapping them in their faces throughout their arduous trek, the boys could not help but laugh at their prank. About half-way through, Andy told Bjorn he had to stop for a minute and take a leak. Bjorn did not complain; his bladder seemed to be saying the same thing: "If you do not go now, you are going to go now." Standing beside each other, the boys unzipped their own flies in unison, extracted their penises, and began to urinate. Steam from their urines emanated into the crisping air. As if an automatic reaction, Andy took a not-so-innocent glimpse down at Bjorn's penis, making a mental note how it seemed the younger boy's penis was growing before his very eyes. Having turned nineteen two months prior, both boys were amazed at how much they each grew in turn since they first met. Now, standing next to his friend, Andy recognized his friend's penis was considerably larger than his. Temptation getting the better of him, Bjorn deliberately looked down at Andy's penis and commented on how strong it looked. "You should try holding it," Andy implored with mocked sincerity. "May I?" Bjorn countered. Andy hardly expected this response from his friend, but since the offer was out there... "As long as I can hold yours," Andy retored. With an impish smile on their faces, the boys in tandem reached down to not only touch their friend's fully erect penis, but to stroke it as well. His eyes rolling back in his head, Andy could not help but say, "Damn, Bjorn, that feels so damn good." "It does not feel so bad from my side, either," Bjorn said with a sinister smile. For an instant, Bjorn released Andy's penis to undo his pants and lower them and his briefs to his ankles, encouraging Andy to follow suit. As they stood there, half naked from the waist down, the boys returned to stroking their friend's hard penis. Andy again closed his eyes, sensing the sensual feeling streaming through his body. His smooth butt cheeks tightened up, his sphincter sealed to allow all the elation to flow frontward. Bjorn likewise closed his eyes while Andy's hand brushed up against his blond pubic hairs. If this is what heaven feels like, Bjorn thought to himself, I could die right now. Bjorn gained a tighter grip on Andy's penis, making certain he would not accidentally extract any of his friend's deep brown pubics. This was supposed to feel good, not to incite nor incur pain. With a heavy breath escaping his lungs, Bjorn took his thumb across Andy's penis slit to feel a thick goo Bjorn recognized by his own masturbating experiences as cum. Bjorn knew if he did not stop, Andy would soon ejaculate, much as Bjorn felt would happen to him as well. But he could not stop. He would not stop. Nor would Andy, and that justified everything. No one in Bjorn's cognizant life had ever touched his penis, let alone seen it. From peeking to watch Andy's reactions, Bjorn was certain Andy could make the same claim. They were both sexual virgins in every way, but today, all that changed. Their minds focused within their sensuality and manipulating their friend' s penis, neither boy heard Principal Stone and Mr. Stover as they emerged from the corn row to where the two boys were enjoying each other. "What in Sam's Hill do you two boys think you are doing?" Principal Stone barked. It was all Jack Stover could do to stand there with surprise running rampant through his mind. In utter shock, both boys immediate stopped masturbating each other and scrambled to recompose their person as much as their clothing. "Do not bother with your pants, boys. Leave them where they are, down by your ankles," Stone ordered. Out of fear and knowing of further repercussions stemming from outright disobedience when an authoritative figure issued an order, the boys complied, lowering their heads in embarrassment and shame. "Who started this?" Stone continued. Neither boy was willing to say a word, not wanting to ruin a lifelong friendship. "Not talking?" Stone inquired. After an eternity in the passing of a second, the boys stoically remained in place, silent, but shaking in obvious apprehension and trepidation. Being caught literally red-handed with your own pants down is quite humiliating, to say the least, but to be caught with another boy while his pants are also down adds to the olio. However, to make it all worse, as if it could not ever get any worse, there they both were, pants down, their hands on the other boy's penis, clearly masturbating their friend. Nothing such as this had ever been heard around Kingston, although Bjorn had heard of such things, only to discard them in his mental DISBELIEF file. "Mr. Stover, you take Andy, I will take Bjorn," Principal Stone ordered. Walking to the boys, it was evident they boys knew what was in store for them, so they offered no resistance. Stover, on the other hand, had no idea what Stone meant, so he chose to watch and follow. Principal Stone took off his jacket, laid it as neatly as he possibly could on the ground, and began stomping down stalks of dying corn to provide him more room for what he was about to do. Stover took the hint and did likewise with a vague idea as to what was about to occur. When satisfied over what he had done, Stone called Andy to him before propping his left leg on its toes. With his hand, Stone motioned for Andy to bend over his knee. "Hold onto your legs, Andy," Stone ordered to a clearly shaking Andy DuFresne. Bjorn Bjornsen needed no further instructions. He walked himself over to his teacher and waited an extra second while Stover also propped his left leg to allow Bjorn to bend over it. Grabbing his legs and squeezing his eyes, Bjorn did not have long to wait. Already he could hear Principal Stone's hand-spanking Andy only feet away from him. By the time Mr. Stover commenced spanking Bjorn, Stone had administered no less than four quick swats. Bjorn could hear them all, loud and reverberating against the still-standing stalks of corn. But that was not all Bjorn could hear. His friend for as long as he could remember was doing something Bjorn always believed was impossible. Andy DuFresne was crying. Stone was giving it to him good, and Bjorn was sorely afraid Stover was going to... And with that, the first of innumerable hand swats administered from Jack Stover found its guided and deliberate way to Bjorn Bjornsen's bared bottom. It did not take many before tears swelled in Bjorn's eyes and then streaked down his face before alighting upon the ground. Stover was a determined spanker, of that Bjorn had to learn the hard way. At least it would be over soon. One untimed minute expired. Then two. Three. Four. Damn, Bjorn thought through his tears, how long can this man spank? As suddenly as it began, it was over...for now. "Since neither of you boys are willing to accept responsibility for initiating this unthinkable act, you are both being spanked by both of us," Stone affirmed, his voice as commanding as ever. "Andy, you report to Mr. Stover. Bjorn, get over here." Seconds later, Round 2 began, only this time Principal Stone had something else in mind. "Bjorn, grab your ankles," Principal Stone demanded, taking time and effort to remove his belt from around his waist. The boy complied, more afraid than he could remember ever experiencing throughout his entire life. Never mind the time he jumped off the top of his family's tool shed, holding his mother's parasol in one hand as if the umbrella would slow him down. Never mind the broken arm he suffered from this blunder. Never mind the chewing out his father gave him, and warned him had he not have broken his arm, his father would certainly have broken his ass. Time was unkind to Bjorn that very second as the first of a seemingly endless assault of belt swats found their way to his bared bottom. Across from him, Andy DuFresne was also be spanked by Jack Stover's thickset belt. And then it was all over. The boys were told to straighten themselves out and promised if anything like this ever happened again, not only would they be disciplined with greater intensity, but their school student records would reflect their unacceptable deportment. "Now, you two get back into the maze and join your classmates," Principal Stone told them. Neither boy needed a repeat performance; with that, they were out of the rows of corn and en route to the maze. Only two minutes behind them, clearing the standing corn, Principal Maxwell Stone and Biology teacher Jack Stover emerged, clearly tired from having to administer such a harsh discipline to two of Kingston's brightest and most promising students. By now, the men were just over half-way to the maze's end. With idle chatter, Stone brought up the high school's basketball team as if nothing had happened. Jack Stover was not so easily dissuaded. Never in his life, either on the giving or receiving end, had he experienced such discipline. The word around the school was he could not even spank his dog, and he would never allow his wife to, either. Jack was clearly shaken up, but he knew he was strong enough to recover. If he could recover from tending to his father the last years of the old man's life, the unfortunate victim of Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis, better known as Lou Gehrig's Disease, then this was considerably minor. It is never easy watching someone you love willow away to practically nothing. Jack Stover's hands were tied when it came to helping his father. He helplessly watched as the man he respected and revered all his life perished, one body cell at a time, from the God-fearing, fire-and-brimstone preacher no one could deny not only knew the Word, but lived it every day of his life. Even on his death bed, the elder Stover joked and laughed as if he were the same man Jack loved and idolized. Six months to the day after Jack Stover buried his father, he returned to society, again dedicated to his work at teaching students. The lessons he had to teach this day were something not found in any textbook or child-rearing book as far as Jack Stover was concerned. Nevertheless, what Andy DuFresne and Bjornsen were caught doing totally went against Jack Stover's upbringing, spiritual and otherwise. The boys had it coming, and as a teacher, he would have failed them each had he refrained from spanking them. "...go undefeated this year," Principal Stone to an unattentive Jack Stover. "I certainly hope so," Stone went on, unconcerned if anyone actually heard a word he ever had to say. The inimitable Maxwell Stone came from a military background. His father served in the early years of World War II, and returned a war hero, whose personal military bearing and regimentation were found in every nail, every brick, every droplet of mortar of his home, not to mention every pore of his offspring's bodies. The oldest of five boys, when the senior Stone was with his military unit, however long that might have been, Maxwell took immediate charge of the household. He never had to say anything to his mother; she seemed well versed on what his father expected the way it was. His younger
siblings, however; that was an entirely different matter altogether. Many times Maxwell took one to a bedroom and spanked his bared bottom, ever in his father's stead. There were even times he had to spank two together. If there was a singlemost thing Maxwell Elliott Stone believed with absolute certainty, it was the Biblical adage of sparing the rod. Throughout his adult life, Maxwell Stone adhered to this tenet, even with his own sons, both of whom were in their twenties, even to this day. "...hear they have a 6'7" center. Going to be hard stopping him, but I think we can do it," Principal Stone tarried on to an unconcerned Jack Stover. By the time they were about three-quarters into the maze, Jack Stover heard a rustling sound off to his right. "I think we may have some stragglers,"
Stover told Stone, nodding in the direction of the noise. It was clear that much noise could not be produced by a common renegade farm animal. Placing a hand to Principal Stone's chest to halt the administrator, Jack Stover listened carefully. Sure enough, there seemed to be another student who veered off the course for the mysteries of the cornfield. Together, the men walked to where Jack heard the rustling noises. From what Jack could determine, whoever was making the noise remained at least ten feet from them. Shrugging his shoulders, Jack led Stone into the corn, but halted them before they located the source of the noise. In the next row, unaware he had been spotted, a man easily of twenty-two years stood, completely naked, and persistently reaching for his bottom as if... Oh, surely he was not doing that, Stone thought. A split second later, Stone could make out the boy's entire features. He had red hair, about 5'9" at 130 pounds. His eyes were an off-green, bordering between blue mixed with gray laced with green. He had no body hair other than in his groin area, and his penis was at full attention. A whisper of delightful pain burst through the boy's lips as he continued to insert a rubber penis inside his anus, stroking it in and out, caressing it to please him as no other could or ever has up to now. "Max, you go on with my class, and release them to their parents. I will take care of this one," Jack Stover encouraged. For once in his life, Maxwell Stone, the rigid golem of a man in Kingston Community School, found himself utterly speechless, and as such, discovered himself actually complying with Jack Stover's suggestion. He left Jack with the red-headed boy for the sanctuary of the senior Biology class, all of whom had returned with agog enthusiasm over having successfully finding their ways out of another maze. Even Andy and Bjorn were chatting, laughing, patting others on the back. As far as this outing was concerned, all is well. Back in the cornfield, Jack Stover watched the boy masturbate and plunge the dildo deep into his butthole. Jack did not know this boy, but he did know he was not on school property, so in all likelihood, this field belonged to this boy and his family. Emerging from hiding, Jack asked, "What are you doing, son?" "Minding my own business, Sir," the boy replied with utmost respect and a hint of spewed acid. "I can see that," Jack said, "but what do you think your father would say if I were he?" As if thunder struck him senseless, the boy stopped, even dropping his dildo from his hand. "My father is in the house, not out here," the boy told the impatient Jack. "But what would he do, son?" Jack inquired. "Probably spank the life out of me, Sir," the boy said, now understanding where the conversation was headed. "Are you going to tell my father, Sir? I hope not. Please, Sir." "Well," Jack began, "I think with my being the responsible adult, I should take matters into my own hands, then. Would you not agree, son?" His head lowered, the boy gave a slight nod before walking toward Jack. "I presume you have a name, son," Jack said. "Yes, Sir. My name is Samuel. Samuel Reynolds, Sir. And this is my family' s farm." "I understand, Samuel. What should we do about this?" Jack queried. Before Samuel could voice a response, he was bending over and looking up at Jack to begin. "Are you sure, Samuel, this is what you want?" Jack asked. "Sir, it does not matter what I want as much as it is what I need, Sir," Samuel answered. Another glance upward at Jack told the teacher it is okay, and he can begin anytime at all. Saying nothing, Jack removed his jacket for the second time on this class outing, only this time, this was not one of his students, although he felt it was his obligation to spank the boy. Raising his right hand high in the air, Jack spanked Samuel. The swats were many, even more, Jack thought, than he had administered to Bjorn and Andy combined. His arm tired, his hand sore, and Samuel's bottom a deep red about to turn bluish-purple, Jack decided to stop. He relented, however, when a pleading look from Samuel implored him to continue in any manner he could. Using his left hand, Jack obliged Samuel, stopping one inch from what Jack deemed as being abusive. Samuel could not stop his tears from drenching his face and blurring his vision. His hairless bottom, only moments before smooth and flawless, was now overheating from one of the most powerful spankings he had ever received. Saying nothing, not even a word of gratitude, Samuel got dressed and scurried to his farm house. Jack stood there for a moment, feeling proud of what he had done to all three boys today. There were lessons needing to be learned; more, there were lessons needing to be taught. Jack worked both sides of the teacher's desk that October afternoon. Maxwell Stone would not see much of Andy DuFresne or Bjorn Bjornsen for the rest of the school year. They each graduated as co-valedictorians, and shared the limelight at their high school commencement. He never spoke to anyone about that day in the corn maze, and retired with a special ceremony honouring all his dedication to his position as Principal of Kingston Community School. The night of his retirement banquet, the mayor of Kingston proudly awarded the man a plaque saluting him and his undying efforts. Before being offered to speak, then-Principal Maxwell Stone shook hands with His Honour, the Mayor Bjorn Bjornsen. Jack Stover saw Andy DuFresne and Bjorn Bjornsen throughout the remainder of the school year. On the day the boys graduated from Kingston Community School, Jack handed them their diplomas, shook their hands, and rendered them a respectful `I forgot everything' nod, leaving the boys to their individual futures. For the rest of his teaching career, all with Kingston Community School, Jack Stover felt a definite pride in his students, in himself, and in his school. Just as everyone expected, Andy DuFresne went on to college, majoring in Accounting and winding up a CPA for a major bank in the State of Maine. The people of Kingston never lost pride in their own son, even though years later, Andy Dufresne was falsely convicted of murdering his cheating wife and sentenced to a state correctional facility in Shawshank, Maine. In time, "Andy DuFresne, who crawled through a river of shit and came out clean on the other side. Andy DuFresne headed for the Pacific." As it turned out, he and a friend of his nicknamed Red ending up in Zihuatanejo, Mexico. Samuel Reynolds eventually left his family farm to pursue a forbidden life. Having many boyfriends in his past, and rejected and emotionally abused by all of them, Samuel found peace with an older man who loved him for who he was, and never for what he could provide out of his wallet. For once in his life beyond his familial scope, Samuel Reynolds finally found unconditional love. And his heart never looked back.