classic corporal punishment

James swallowed hard, his heart racing. He knew what was coming. The punishments here were swift and severe, a reminder of his unique position. He nodded, his eyes flicking over to the leather strap hanging from Mr. Gravel's thick, calloused hand.

"I'm sorry, sir," he said, his voice firm despite the fear that tightened his stomach. "It won't happen again."

Mr. Gravel's expression didn't soften. "Words are cheap, boy," he said, gesturing towards the makeshift whipping post in the center of the quarry. "Bend over."

James did as he was told, his knees slightly trembling as he bent at the waist, placing his palms flat on the cool stone. His ass, firm and round, jutted out towards his boss, the cheeks clenching involuntarily. The workers around them paused in their tasks, eager to witness the spectacle. The leather strap cracked through the air, and James gritted his teeth, bracing himself for the first strike.

It fell with a sharp snap across his buttocks, and he couldn't hold back the grunt of pain. The sting grew, blossoming into a fiery bloom that painted his flesh a deep red. Another blow followed, and another, each one landing with calculated precision, alternating between the soft flesh of his cheeks and the tight ring of his anus. His cock, already at half-mast, grew harder with each smack.

"Count them, boy," Mr. Gravel growled, his own breathing labored as he brought the strap down again and again.

"One," James gritted out, his body taut with anticipation of the next blow.

"Two," he groaned, his ass cheeks quivering as the pain grew more intense.

The leather strap met James's flesh with a resounding thwack, and he bit back a cry. His cock throbbed, betraying his body's unexpected response to the punishment.

"Three," he managed to croak, his voice strained as the pain coiled through his body, tightening his balls.

The whipping continued, each stroke more punishing than the last, leaving James's ass a canvas of red welts. His cock, however, remained stubbornly erect.

As he reached the count of ten, Mr. Gravel's arm paused, the strap hovering in the air. "You're a tough one, James," he said, a hint of admiration in his gruff voice.

James nodded, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "I know, sir," he murmured. "I'll be more punctual from now on."

Mr. Gravel grunted his acknowledgment and holstered the strap. "Now, get to work," he said, his tone softer than the leather had been mere moments ago. "And try not to get behind again."

James straightened up, the pain in his ass a dull throb that seemed to pulse in time with his racing heart. He took his place at the quarry, the heat of the sun now a gentle warmth on his naked skin. The other workers returned to their tasks, though their eyes lingered on him, a mix of fascination and contempt.

For the next few hours, he worked tirelessly, the sledgehammer rising and falling in a rhythmic dance. Each impact with the rock sent vibrations up his body, the handle of the hammer rubbing against his throbbing cock. His mind wandered, conjuring images of the men watching him, their thoughts filled with lust and judgment.

The quarry grew hotter as the sun climbed higher, the sweat glistening on James's chiseled body. His muscles rippled with each swing, the veins in his arms and chest standing out as he put his all into his work. The stinging in his ass was a constant reminder of his punishment.

"Water break, everyone," Mr. Gravel announced, his voice echoing through the quarry.

James's eyes shot up from his task, his body screaming for respite. He wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, his gaze meeting the foreman's. Mr. Gravel's eyes lingered on James's erect cock before he turned away, a knowing smile playing on his lips. The workers ambled over to the water cooler, their eyes lingering on James as he approached, his cock bobbing with each step.

"Keep it in your pants, kid," one of the men jeered, earning a round of coarse laughter from the others.

James flushed, his cheeks burning almost as much as his ass. He took a deep breath and reached for the water, his hand shaking slightly. The cold liquid soothed his parched throat, and he closed his eyes, savoring the brief reprieve. When he opened them, he caught...