Author’s note: THIS STORY IS JUST FANTASY, OK !
Now nearly 18, I'd decided Luke was old enough to know something of my more unusual interests and Internet activity, and so during his holiday we'd had a few months of fascinated discussion on the subject, although he'd been quite clear that this wasn't a subject of, shall we say, personal interest. I knew that he liked the idea of a secretly colourful and "funny" uncle in the family, not just one that shared his computer interests, given how stuffy and staid my dear sister and her husband could be ! He was a teen with big ideas, wanting to break free, and I'd promised to help.
However, there were communication problems at home and his schoolwork was suffering badly. The family network was sure it was a result of far too much socialising with his college group, he had turned out to be quite the ladies' man ! Whatever the reasons, the results of his exams had been a source of great concern, as he now had only a year before University. While the C's and D's were a lot better than the F's he'd been fearing, they weren't good enough.
Ian: yes, I heard your results
Ian: well done
Luke: thanx... they could have been better tho
Ian: you were expecting them to be much worse!
Luke: true
Ian: so it's not that bad
Luke: but looking at them it should have been B's and a C
Ian: are we aiming for As and Bs this year tho?
Luke: well... i want A's... but with the support from parents... C's are likely
Ian: I wish I could help more directly
Luke: yeah... parents have this "ur crap so don't expect to get good grades" attitude
with me... when i want the "ur going to get great grades and we'll help ya do it"
attitude instead
Ian: that's why you need to get the "so what, I'm going to prove you wrong, fuckas"
attitude :P
Luke: yeah... i say that... but never do that... i kinda need driving most of the time... and
there's no one to do it
Ian: you're intentionally feeding me a line, right? LOL
Luke: huh?
Ian: you're smart, you work it out!
Luke: oh... right... i get it
Ian: maybe "driving" isn't the right word, but if you actually thought your ass was
on the line if your work wasn't up to scratch... LOL
Luke: nice choice of words :P
Ian: that's where they've been a little slack, perhaps :P
Luke: i do need someone pushing me harder... i mean making me do it to the best of me and not
the low
Ian: k, maybe we can talk some more about that when I see you next
That meeting was a few days away. I dropped through my sister's occasionally on my way to see my parents. I wasn't sure what Luke would make of the plan I had brewing, but he'd certainly expressed a desire for some additional "incentive" and by now he knew full well what I might have in mind.
I was also pondering an earlier conversation we'd had about the reasons perfectly sane and sensible adults accepted discipline from other adults, which had touched on the subject of catharsis, when he'd mentioned his inner rage, or "pent up angry" as he put it, something that had stemmed from some rough experiences at school. I'd said then he might find some form of discipline useful in dealing with that, although he was understandably dubious about my prescription.
My interest, though, was in making sure he got through those critical exams with flying colours, by whatever combination of methods worked best. It was completely up to Luke to make the choice to take my particular package of "encouragements" or not.
"OK, buddy, I know mum and dad aren't there for you to help with schoolwork. So I'm going to propose a solution to get you back on track and make sure your next exams aren't as bad as the ones just gone. You don't have to accept it, but I want you to think carefully about it. You actually made me think of it when we were chatting the other day, in fact you practically suggested it yourself."
"OK . . ."
"There are two parts. You can't take one without the other. You want incentive to get you to work, and I'm prepared to give you that. You want help with your work, and I'm prepared to do that too. But in exchange for that help, I need you to take responsibility for the time I'm not there helping, to make sure you keep working hard. So that's where the incentive will come in, to make sure you focus on that responsibility and remember it, so you don't slip back."
He was looking a little unsure what I meant, but also a little nervous.
"Here's what's on offer. I could come down every 2 weeks or so and look over your homework and coursework. I think I'm capable of sorting out the maths and chemistry at least. That way you'll get some practical help with it and the encouragement you're looking for. I reckon I can get a free Sunday lunch out of it as well !"
"You've never turned that down before," Luke laughed. My appetite was infamous in the family, as I disgraced myself frequently, abusing my waistline without apparent concern, at Xmas gatherings and other events.
"It's definitely a side benefit." I laughed with him. "Seriously, though, if your work looks OK and everything's on track, and I hear reports that you've been diligent and not going out with your mates too often, then I'll also spend some time helping with the website you want to build. That's a promise, alright ?"
"Cool. I like the sound of this. Why do I feel there's a catch, though ?"
"You've only heard the good part so far, that's why. Remember I said there would be an incentive, to make sure you took responsibility for the time I wasn't there ?" He nodded. "Well if your work is NOT up to scratch, or what I hear is 'Luke was partying all week and not working', then there will be a consequence. Something to make sure you think twice about not working in future. There will be no help with the website that week, and . . . you'll get a spanking from me."
"You're kidding, right ?"
"Nope. If you want the help with your schoolwork, you have to accept the penalty for not working, those are my terms. It shouldn't be a problem if you are prepared to work, you'll never have to get spanked, will you ?"
He was quiet for a while. "I don't know. You know I'm not into that."
"That's why I'm suggesting it. If you don't want to get spanked, you will want to avoid it. And I'm talking a real spanking, hard and painful, not a little fun one. It'll hurt, kiddo, it's meant to be a punishment for not working, and to make you think before you skip working again."
He was silent some more.
"Do you want to improve your grades ?" Luke nodded, sullen and reluctant. "Then this way you get what you wanted, encouragement and incentive. It's not a game, it would be a contract just between us, as adults. Your mum and dad don't have to know. If you really mean to work, you'll never get spanked, there'd be no risk. But if you already think there's a risk you might get spanked, because you might not work, then you know you need this even more to keep you on the right track, so there's a consequence you can be scared of. Am I right ?"
There was another reluctant nod.
"What are you afraid of ? You aren't a little boy any more, you can handle a little pain ! Do you want to learn to take responsibility for yourself or not ?"
"Yes, but . . ."
"But what ?"
"It'd be weird. And humiliating. Like, you're not my dad."
"No, but I'm still family. And family takes care of family. And this is also a guy thing, a contract between guys who care for each other and want to help each other, NOT a sex thing. You know how we've talked about that before. Don't get the wrong idea about this."
It was indeed part of my "Five Reasons Why Adults Spank Each Other" lecture which I'd given him, which he'd found most illuminating at the time. The teen slumped on the bed with eyes glazed over, weighing the prospects of the good results he needed and the help promised against the risk and uncertainties of embarrassment and pain that were now on offer if he didn't pull his weight.
"It's your choice to make. You don't have to accept it and there's no pressure. Think about it some more, I don't expect you to decide now."
I turned back to the computer where he'd got his latest program running. "So show me what this does again. I think I have an idea how to improve your array handling a bit."
"OK, I agree," he muttered behind me.
I slowly swivelled back to him and fixed his gaze, which he struggled to meet. "Are you sure ? If you agree now you can't back out later when it's time to pay the price for not working. You'd be on your honour to accept the consequences."
"I know." I could almost hear the teeth gritting. "I agree, alright ?"
I put my hand out for a shake and he took it. I made sure the grip was tight. "OK, then we have an agreement. This is the contract. I help you pick up your grades, and you work hard. If you work, there will be benefits, I'll help you with your computer stuff. If you goof off, or show you're not living up to your responsibilities, then you agree to take the punishment I give, no questions, no backing out."
"OK." The grip returned was half-hearted.
"Do you promise ? On your honour ?"
"Yes already !" He was flushed and annoyed. Clearly he'd already resigned himself to losing the bet against his self-discipline.
"It's OK, Luke. It's for the best. You'll thank me for this next year when you get your next set of grades. Just remember that I'm going to make sure you have every chance to work, and I'll be helping and rooting for you all the way. If you do get spanked, you'll only have yourself to blame, not me."
"I know," he said, more subdued. I pulled him up by the hand I already held and managed to get a grudging hug out of him. "Thanks, Ian."
"Save that for after your first lesson, kiddo !"
However, maybe part of his newly found working attitude was the thought of the somewhat unwelcome
present I'd given him at the end of his first lesson, which he now kept securely hidden from his
parents. It was a light wooden paddle I'd had for a few years, cut down from its original
Lunch on the fourth occasion was a rather sober affair, though, at least for Luke. He'd obviously been bawled out by his parents that week for three nights of parties. I could see that he was less than pleased by them telling me about it, especially when I noted that he'd made a point of discreetly hiding it in our chats, but he was even more discomfited by their innocent suggestion that I should provide my own "encouragement" for him to keep his eye on the proper goal. He had no doubt I was now preparing to do just that later !
Fortunately for our plans, my sister liked to take Sunday afternoons out with her husband, so we generally had the house to ourselves for work and computer fun for a good few hours until the early evening. As the front door closed behind them that day, however, Luke knew his fate was sealed.
Taking him by the shoulders, I turned him towards the stairs. "March !" He said nothing, just trudging reluctantly in front of me up to his room.
The desk chair was useless for my purposes, so I pushed it clear and sat on the bed, surveying the wretched teen, who stood pointedly just out of my reach. Now we'd find out exactly how much his word really meant.
"So what happened ? You deliberately kept this from me, didn't you ?"
He nodded, long brown hair hiding his face as he hung his head. When I stayed silent, expecting an answer, he carefully looked up to see the stern expression in my eyes.
"I'm sorry, Ian. You know I mentioned this special girl I'd met at the party the other month, the one I'd been trying to get close to for ages ? She started texting me last week and things kinda took off, so I really had to spend time with her."
"Well I hope the fun you had is worth the price you're going to pay. It's not an excuse. You know what we agreed, so you know what we have to do now, don't you ?"
"Yes. I've been trying not to think about this. Do we have to go through with it ?" It was nearly a whine.
"Yep, afraid so. If you don't take me seriously you'll just do this next week, and the week after, and we'll have lost all the ground we made up with your work so far. And you know you agreed to this on your honour."
Luke was fidgeting badly. That sense of honour, which seemed much easier to live up to all those weeks ago, was fighting a battle with his real fear of what was now due to happen, and seemed to be losing.
"Look, you're a big lad. It's going to be painful and embarrassing, I'm not going to lie to you, but then it's over. A good spanking won't kill you !" I tried to think how I could better encourage him. "Come on, are you a man or a mouse ?"
I smiled to try and put him at his ease, remembering my school metalwork teacher asking the same question of the boys who forgot their overalls, offering them a choice of a demerit or a swift application of his trusty metal ruler 'Sting'; I couldn't remember any ever accepting the demerit . . .
"What do we do ?" He was submissive, quiet, accepting he'd lost control of what was to come.
"First you can find the paddle I gave you and bring it to me, then you can get those shoes and trousers off. The shirt too if you don't want to crease it." He favoured soft silky fabrics that would suffer badly if scrunched over my lap on a writhing, sweaty torso.
"No way !"
"Yes way ! The idea is to spank you, not your trousers. Remember, you agreed to take my punishment without question or backing out, and that's how I'm going to punish you. And you'd better hurry up if you don't want us to still be doing this when your mum and dad get back."
He turned, sullen, and rummaged in his secret hiding-place to find the paddle, while I quickly closed the curtain and the bedroom door. As I sat down again on the bed, he held out the wooden implement for me. The look of dread as I took it spoke volumes. Then, kicking off his shoes, he pulled his shirt over his head, revealing a smooth chest with a decent, softly-developed physique.
My expression as I sat there, tapping the paddle in my palm with a nicely exaggerated menace,
was quite uncompromising. Luke fumbled with his trousers catch, then they were lowered to his
ankles almost glacially slowly until he stood up, blushing and reluctant, in only his socks and
"And the boxers."
"No ! That's just kinky . . ."
We didn't have time to argue the point. I reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling him towards me. As he stumbled, catching his balance, both my hands found the waistband and the boxers were unceremoniously yanked down below his knees and out of reach of his desperate grasp. Instinctively he covered his exposed crotch in shame, but not before I'd had a good view. I was sneakingly envious of his latest girlfriend, he'd certainly inherited one of our family's best genetic features !
"Please, Ian . . ." He was almost crimson in the face.
I took him by the elbow and pulled him inexorably towards my waiting lap. "There's nothing there I haven't seen before, Luke. And it's not that side of you that's going to be getting my attention today." Now he was disrobed and therefore psychologically disarmed, it didn't take too long for him to submit to kneeling then bending right over my knees, eventually finding a comfortable position with his head and arms down to my left and his bare bottom exquisitely presented.
It was flawless, two prominent muscular mounds with only the lightest down covering the pale skin, curving neatly round narrow, graceful hips. The jutting hemispheres topped long, athletic legs, hardly tanned at all from the recent Summer, in perfect proportion like solid, rounded marble capitals on some slender Roman temple columns. I cupped each buttock in my right hand, squeezing the warm, firm flesh, watching him flinch at the strangeness of this unfamiliar and terribly intimate touch. Not some girlish caress, this was something he'd thought he'd never experience, being over the lap of a man, about to be spanked !
I could see the tension in his back as the feelings of humiliation, shame of exposure yet also unexpected pleasure in my closeness and controlling touch competed for supremacy. He knew that I was gay, but I wondered if he understood just how attractive the view he was presenting to me was, a young Boy David sculpted in a perfect pose just for my private, aesthetic appreciation. I kept squeezing the taut, quivering cheeks slowly until I could see him relaxing into the sensation, gradually allowing himself to enjoy my deep, sensual massage, and then I knew he was ready to experience the next step.
"That's good. Now, I want you to be comfortable, because we are going to be here for some time. Here's some advice: however much you want to, if you tense up it'll only make things feel worse, so try and relax. Let's get things warmed up, then."
I let the first few slaps grow out of the massaging, so as not to shock Luke's system too much, then they got a little harder, adding a perceptible pink tinge to his rear. Nothing too extreme, and he was only reacting with heavy breathing and the occasional "Aaah" and "Oh !" This wasn't anything like the punishment I'd promised him, though, so after a few minutes I paused and massaged a little more.
"Right, playtime's over. Now you know what being spanked feels like, so let's begin the punishment part. This is going to hurt, Luke. That's so that next week you remember this when you think about going out three nights instead of schoolwork. Do you understand me ?"
"Yessss !" There was a slight hiss, I couldn't decide if it was the sting of the light spanking he'd just had getting through to him or enjoyment of my firm, kneading touch that was soothing the rosy buttocks twisting slightly across my knees, or maybe both. In any case, he was still playing along.
For the next round I changed pace, a little harder but also faster, each slap unpredictable in its placing: left, left, right, left, right, left, left, right, right, right, left, right . . . The lithe body was beginning to bounce and twist, trying to avoid each new smack wherever it might land, and its owner was losing conscious control. With my left hand on his back, rubbing reassuringly, I could feel his reactions before Luke could notice them himself, and I instantly sensed the movement of his right hand after a sudden fierce spank, catching it midway before he could protect himself. I wrestled him, pinning his wrist into the small of his back while scarcely missing a beat in my attack. This new restraint prevented his wilder movements and I continued, making the most of my improved accuracy, while he began to be more vocal.
"Owww ! Fuck ! Ian !! Pleaaase, stop. I've learnt my . . . OWW ! NO !"
I ignored him stoically while spanking harder and harder. He was starting to kick wildly, the boxers round his ankles long lost, and I knew I'd need a much better grip on him when I brought the paddle into play.
After a little more, I decided it was time for another break. Stopping suddenly, I lifted him bodily with my free right hand, opening my legs and tipping him between them so that I could pull him right over my left thigh, his torso held flat on the bed behind me by my tight pin of his right wrist. My right leg hooked behind his left knee, my left leg behind his right knee, then I spread them, pulling his thighs wide apart and holding them firmly. Now Luke was locked in place, unable to move more than a couple of inches however he struggled, and every private nook and cranny of that tantalising young bottom was open to my punishing assault.
"Iaaan ! Please, no more !"
"You're being punished, this is what you agreed to. Get used to it."
"It huuuuurts !!"
"It's meant to hurt ! That's what punishment is, pain, so that you don't forget it in a hurry and think twice before messing up again."
"But I'm sorry . . ."
I started a new salvo on the writhing, hot buttocks pushed up and over my thigh. They were already past pink and into red, and I wanted to really get them tender before I unleashed the paddle, which I was sure would send him over the edge. My smacks were hard, the hardest yet, but slow so that he had just enough time to recover between them. I was learning to read his reactions and sense how close he was to losing control, and I didn't want that just yet. He was trying desperately to escape the powerful blows, but he was securely held in place and going nowhere, however much he pleaded.
Another few minutes took him to a new crest of torment, and a new shade of red. I stopped and
began to massage the heaving, sweaty cheeks again, a teasing interlude to re-settle and reassure
him before releasing my reserves for a decisive, blazing victory ! Luke was breathing hard,
his rage with me for hurting him matching his anger with himself at allowing it, but all thrown
The comfort was to be short-lived. "Time for the last step now. This is really going to burn, buddy."
He instantly realised what I meant. "No, please, not the paddle, pleaaase, Ian. I'll do my work, honest ! Don't use the paddle !"
But I already had it in my hand, testing the weight and balance of it, much improved by the shortening. It was just right for Luke's slim, teen rear, not too big or too heavy, so that a good swat would create a formidable and agonizing impact exactly where I wanted it without much tissue damage or bruising. I laid the cool wood on his red-hot right buttock, eliciting a new urgency in his struggles which nearly lost me my grip on his arm.
"Here's the deal, Luke. I'll stop when I see and hear tears. The longer you fight me, the longer you'll get spanked. If you give in, it'll be over soon. It's not up to me, it's up to you, now. It's the last part of your punishment - you've been embarrassed in front of a man, accepted pain from a man, and now you need to cry in front of a man. Show me you're sorry, let me see real tears."
Hearing that, and feeling the warning pat of the paddle on his already flaming rear, he was
probably already close to tears, but his anger at me was now in control and he was determined
to fight to the bitter end. So, ignoring his frantic gyrations, I lifted my arm and made first
contact, which sent him predictably into orbit ! It wasn't a heavy whack, but the unyielding
wood instantly
All his youthful strength was engaged in trying to escape the bite of the paddle. His bare back
glistened and ran with sweat and my hold on his wrist was difficult to maintain as he twisted
desperately. It was no longer conscious movement, mostly instinctive reaction, but I could feel
the fight gradually starting to drain out of him, as the pace and ferocity of the onslaught
completely overwhelmed his
"Come on, kiddo, allow yourself to give in, I won't stop till I can see you crying !"
He was soon almost inarticulate, the ability lost to manage the new fires each SNAP! of the
paddle was adding, so I switched to a blitzkrieg to hasten the surrender, concentrating rapid
fire on his tender
"That's it, let it go, let it all out," I encouraged him, keeping the paddle volley going until I could feel rather than hear the sobs welling up from deep inside, all resistance gone. Then I threw down the weapon and laid twenty or so good hand spanks over the base of each cheek where I'd been focussing the paddle swats, gradually bringing the intensity down. Eventually the room was silent except for the teen's muffled whimpering and our heavy breathing. I was quite exhausted, but Luke had gone a marathon, and lay slumped, tearful, over my jeans thigh.
I'd prepared for this moment. I retrieved a tube of lanolin from my shirt pocket and began to gently but liberally anoint Luke's glowing rear, the light touch of my fingers bringing fresh sobbing from the broken youth. The greasy balm was absorbed eagerly by the sizzling skin, and he slowly quieted as the delicate, calming tracery doused the remaining smoldering fires to tingles and twinges. I managed to lift him to sit on my right leg, keeping up the soft and reassuring rubbing with my right hand, and I drew him into a close embrace so that he could feel my compassion and warmth over the desolation of his emotions.
"This is 'catharsis', Luke, do you remember ?" I was almost crooning, as I rocked him gently. "Can you understand now ?" I wasn't sure whether I could reach him in this state, but there was a small answering nod as he hugged me tightly. Neither of us wished to break the contact, it seemed we wanted the potency of that intimate moment to last forever.
Our physical closeness, re-awakening awareness of his nudity and the insistent, throbbing itch in his behind were however starting their own involuntary but inevitable chain reaction, and there was no doubt about the urgency growing in his groin, it was unmistakably prodding my stomach. The last thing I wanted was for this blissful, serene, almost sacred moment to be ruined by bashfulness and shame at something so natural, it would spoil everything that had happened when I needed him to remain comfortable, confident, accepting of this close male bonding.
Grappling strongly with my scruples, I figured there was one way, although highly risky, to keep this intensity that would not destroy the intimacy and empathy we had reached, and that could maybe bond us even more closely.
"There's one other thing guys can do for each other, Luke." I retrieved my right hand from the gentle massage of his bottom and wrapped it, still greasy with the lanolin, around the base of his hardening dick. It instantly stiffened at the touch and, before he could react beyond a sharp, surprised intake of breath, I firmly drew the fist up to the tip and down a little, dragging his foreskin clear then sliding my oily open palm slowly over the exposed glans.
He was rigid, partly with shock at the audacity of this unexpected touch, and maybe a little fear too, but also paralysed by the thrilling shocks like electricity running unstoppably through his body as I stimulated the two most sensitive square inches of his skin deliberately, remorselessly, round and round. I could feel him shudder and jolt uncontrollably, gasping as new waves of sensation prickled up and down his spine.
"I can stop if you want. Do you want me to ?" I whispered into the boy's ear. Luke held on to me tightly, utterly wrecked after the devastation and confusion of the spanking, now drowning helplessly in a roaring ocean, a tiny speck buffeted ceaselessly in the storm, where I was the only rock to cling to. He was beyond words, I knew, but the answering shake of his head was clear enough. I could be sure he trusted me to continue.
I carefully added more lanolin until my fist was slick, starting a slow pumping that soon had him moaning ecstatically every time I pushed down, as I added a slight twist over his cock-head with the heel of my hand. I wasn't sure how expert his girlfriends had been, but I guessed he was probably now realising that the most qualified person to understand how to best pleasure a man, and provide the ultimate masturbatory experience, was without doubt another man !
It was all too quickly time to give him the reward he deserved. I manoevred him onto the bed,
on his back, and sat between his parted thighs. My free left hand found his right for support
and clasped it, his grip almost crushing in return as my right fist started a stronger, quicker
rhythm up and down his stiff pole, slippery under my fingers with new lubrication as he leaked
"Good, that's it, come on, Luke, show me what you've got ! Yes !"
"Oh God, I'm . . . OOOOH GOD !!"
The orgasm was magnificent and extraordinary, even in my own experience, and the headboard and
pillows fell victim to the powerful explosion. Luke's stomach and chest were drenched in scalding
rivers that cooled quickly, adding new, startling shocks to his already sensitized skin. He was
left shivering, dazed and completely drained. Giving his
I knew he'd need some time to recover and deal with the two awesome, extreme ordeals he'd just had. "I'm going to go downstairs and make some coffee. You'll probably want a shower to clean up." I grinned, and he managed to grin somewhat sheepishly in return, then I left him sprawled naked, still hard, sore and dripping on his bed. I had my own urgent need to attend to in the downstairs toilet anyway . . .
Twenty minutes later, I was finally, disgustedly, sipping the unsuccessful result of my cupboard
search for anything that wasn't
So was the boy who stepped into the kitchen fresh from his shower, his long hair damp and combed back over a fresh shirt. A very observant and knowing onlooker might have noticed a slight tearful redness lingering in Luke's eyes, the subtly loose choice of trousers, the teensy bit of stiffness in his walk from a bottom that obviously still tingled, pleasurably I genuinely hoped in his favour, but none of these things seemed to trouble him. He came over and draped himself against me in a tight, eager hug.
"Thank you, Ian. I really needed that."
He didn't expand on what exactly he meant, or even which of the two spankings he'd had from me that day he was referring to, either the one on his delicious and deserving cheeks, or the one to his delightful and most impressive monkey ! I suspected he appreciated both, though.
"That's OK, kiddo, it was my pleasure."
"I know that." The smile was genuine and warm, to my relief. "It was . . . intense ! Now I get what you meant about it being a thing between guys. It's pretty cool. It really hurt, though ! I hate that damn paddle."
"Well, next time you screw up maybe we can see if you prefer the strap instead !" The look I got was very wry. I tried to recover the moral high ground. "So now you've finally been punished. Will it be an incentive for you to work hard in future ?"
"Oh yes, I promise. You'll see, I'll be very good." He hugged me again. "There's just one thing, though."
"Oh, what's that ?"
He flushed slightly. "Well, if I'm good and my work's OK, and I haven't gone out partying . . ."
"Yes ?"
"Can I still have a spanking, please, Ian ?"
But when his parents have gone out, I hardly have time to sit down before he's stripped himself and gladly thrown himself across my lap. He takes no argument from me. Well, what is an uncle to do except his duty ?
I'm more worried, though, that he's getting the strange idea that it's time I was put over his knee for "a dose of my own medicine". I wish his gran hadn't told him that I haven't been working too hard recently, and he's not impressed by the lack of progress on my own website. "Family looks after family, you told me that, Ian !" I didn't like his laugh when I said I was too old for that and complained that there was no reciprocal clause in our contract. I noticed he's now taller than me, and he's been putting on some muscle too. I'm not looking forward to next week . . .
Luke also mentioned that he is trying to find the course he wants at a university near me, as he thinks my methods of encouragement and motivation will continue to be really useful to him there, with all the distractions he's likely to face. And perhaps also to me. I am very flattered, of course, but I know he'll have no trouble getting into any university he wants now.
After all, he's going to get excellent grades.