BBFC: Too Much For Viktor

BBFC: Too Much For Viktor

Viktor is one of those lads that always protests his innocence even when he is as guilty as they come. Teodor has been waiting to paddle the lad and is far from happy and is not surprised at Viktor saying he is not guilty.
*

*

Click Here or on the Continue Reading tab below to see more.

*

______________________

But he bends the lad over the table and sets about paddling him. Having come from the shower Viktor is wearing only a towel and is really not dressed for the occasion. The towel is gone after a few swats and the lads is naked for the rest of the session. This time there seems to be something a bit different in Viktor’s attitude and it’s not long before we see what, he is getting excited by the paddling.

*

Viktor does his best to hold back but it’s not long before he dumps a load on the table and his face has that wonderful pleasure and pain expression lads get at this point. Teodor is not impressed when he sees this at the end and admonishes the lad as he leaves the room. .

*

—


2 Responses to BBFC: Too Much For Viktor

  1. Avatar bartcane
    bartcane says:

    Victor is so spankable, he should get it daily ( and judging by his reaction he won’t mind). i wonder how he would react to the cane?

  2. As all knaves are clumsy and/or careless from time to time, actual accidents happen as well as pranks and plain knavery, almost all and always earning currish culprit(s)’ clothless cones a damned good ‘healthy’ hiding for causing even the tinyest damage to House or personal property, or a just as sound and sizzling ‘preventive’ spanking-session on Teodor’s watch for conceivingly risking such, as Scottish-sparing senior Sir believes especially strongly (and seriously strong-armed, severely swaying sturdy spanking-implements such as strap or switch) in nipping naughty nipper nonsense in the breechless butt by bitterly beating the bare-balls-bentover bad (bantering, boozing…) boys’ buttocks bosun-brutally before bratty behavior becomes a bit bad for budget, consequentially-crimson-coned curs’ commiserating comrades call this caution-commanding-castigation-caused kind of black and blue beating-begot bawling the ‘bitter butterfinger brat blistered bottom bluess’, they even hum fitting, fast or funerary tunes for the spontaneously-following abjectly-ass-arse-agonized adolescents ‘fanny on fire fandango’ and recently started rating its cut-cones-cringing conga choreography, the best ‘doleful dancer’ of the month winning a tube of soothing creme.
    Moving as gracefully as a grizzly gramps, Viktor never stands a chance against angel-feet fellows like swag-slick-swinging Sergio’s at winning the cruelty-comforting creme he could use so well and often, although few knaves had more orbs-ordeal-offered opportunities to demonstrate the dreaded derriere-doomed-dance, about a dozen daily, mostly doubled-dose for reoffending that day. Lighter-footed lads laugh lustily at his limp-lashed lewed-lout-lower-limbs as they playfully pat ‘black and bluess butt boy’ on the purple-pained posterior, peeking at his prominent pain-provoked Priapism.
    However, the horse-hung hard-handled humblehound’s huge, ‘happily hardening’ he-hood proves a mixed blessing, as it helps the haphazard hell-hot-hits-hurt-howler convince strict Sir the lividly-laidon lesson lands right on-target rapidly resulting in required red-raw-rueful regrets, and the mates also rate associated hardons weekly, in his case sometimes high enough to win a single soothing-creme rub-on from the flailed-fanny-fandango-king’s tube, which makes up part of the time for the extra licks he often gets for sordidly soiling something by spankee-seed-stick-secreted-sticky-spillage, both in position stat (symbolically switching implement) and during naked clean-up.
    Since senior Sir sees soiling ‘soft stuff’ (almost anything except brat hide) as a separate seriously-spankable sin on account of wicked washing wear, and butterfinger’s bumbling betters naught, Sir seized the last stitch of his wardrobe for the warm seasons, allowing only school code dress for campus, denim shorts commando elsewhere outdoors, this toughest-fiber towel in the House, a ‘klutz kilt’ as coarse on his clumsy-cur-cones as the ‘commander’ crossly curses, condemning the compliant kid to copious clothless-cones-crimson-covering-consequences, cumming can’t corrupt clothes, carries a costly CP-complement anyway, as attempt to awake appropriate attrition and attire-abuse-aversion, actually about-as-abundantly agonizing his asinine-arse as attired, apart-from accident-prevention allowing avoiding another abject-ass-arse-agony at hamper-inspection.