Taavi is relaxing by having an afternoon jerk. He is of course supposed to be doing other things, but like all lads when he gets the urge he just has to go and sort it out.
Dimitri catches him and is not impressed.
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He gets the lad standing against the wall and gives him a good walloping. Taavi standing up like this makes his ass look perfect, small and well shaped and with that little wobble after each swat, and the colour that he gets is a real joy.
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But as he was caught mid act he he has very little control over things and he soon dumps a load, it must be quite intense as he is tempted to grab hold of dick at one point .
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Taavi’s teen mind may be almost as flexible as his limber lowly-lout-lower-limbs, both truly-expertly trained to true tears trough time-honoured trouserless-twink-tail-tender-tanning to teach timeliness, toiling his tail off, total tractability … time and time again, getting it gruesomely, godfatherly good globes-glowing from grimly-grumpy guardian-gramps for more faults and flaws then either kept count, plus licenses to spank on the bare for every elder male in their tiny town, the tooth-old tush-terrorizing tyrant and tail-torment-teaming-up townfolk never took offense to masturbation, a natural sign of health, as long as he carefully cleaned-up the contained cum and his crowed cock without wasting water: in a cattle trough.
He can’t wrap his mind around Sirs’ curious condemnation of cum-containing ‘counter sodomy’, nor motivate himself to foresake his favourite-by-far stress-relief, only fond memory of home, so never mind if Sir keeps barging in to catch and sermon him with a sissy spanking, he actually fakes-up the yelping and contains his joy at extra cock-crowing, covertly coveting being caught, crossly-cursed and castigated consequentially.