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"Get A Spanking At School Boy, And You Will Get Another One At Home!"

by Clansmanchris

Copyright on this story text belongs at all times to the original author only, whether stated explicitly in the text or not. The original date of posting to the MMSA was: 09 Mar 2007

My name is Jonathan Anderson. I'm 16 years old, approximately 5' 10" tall, 130lbs with a slim naturally smooth body and a 7" dick.

It is now coming up to 18.00hrs when I normally have dinner with my parents and my younger brother but, instead of having my evening meal – my main meal of the day as I only have cereal and toast for breakfast and a packed lunch at midday – I am sitting in my (unheated) bedroom, wearing just my tight white soccer shorts, waiting for my Dad to arrive to give me a whipping for reasons I shall explain presently. I hope he's not much longer as I'm anxious to get this over and done with as soon as possible, apart from which I'm fucking cold, but I daren't put anything on so I can slip my shorts off when I hear Dad coming up the stairs; as if he catches me wearing anything he will punish me twice as hard as normal and my poor arse cannot take much more today. I also know my life won't be worth living if I turn my radiator on to keep warm as my Dad always likes to claim he is "being kind" to me by warming me up whenever he slippers me and reminds me that "cold legs and a warm backside are the hallmarks of a well-disciplined youth"; have you ever heard such bullshit?!

You see, this morning, I was paddled with a cheeseboard by my elderly Craft, Design & Technology teacher Mr Dryburn for calling him "Grandpa" (as he is old enough to be my grandfather) after he caught me day-dreaming about my girlfriend, instead of paying attention to what he was saying to the rest of the class.

Dryburn, who is also Head of the Craft Department at my school, hauled me into his office by my ear and pushed me over his desk, before giving me six hard swats across the seat of my trousers. "Any more cheek from you Anderson and you will get the next lot across your bare cheeks and this particular Dryburn will guarantee to give you a burning sensation in your arse if not a wet dream about your bird; understood lad", he snapped at me.

"Yes Sir" I replied, rubbing my butt through my tight grey trousers to assuage the pain.

"Right then, rejoin the class and don't let me hear you call me 'Grandpa' again, you impertinent little shit", he ordered.

I never called the boring old git 'Grandpa' again but he must have told Mr Harris (my Housemaster) he had given me the cheeseboard as, just before lunchtime, I received a message to report to him (Mr Harris) after school in my gym kit: this could only mean one thing ... a further spanking!

On reporting to Mr Harris, he first established how and why I had been paddled by Mr Dryburn, and then asked if it hurt. I made the foolish mistake of saying "a bit".

"Just a bit" exclaimed Mr Harris. "Well perhaps this will hurt you a bit more" he added wielding his cane, "and to make damn sure it does, you can drop your shorts"!

"Please Sir ... not on the bare Sir; can't you just cane my legs instead Sir" I protested, conscious that my shorts were indeed short and left plenty of thigh exposed, and anxious to spare myself the humiliation of exposing my arse and my dick to him. (I should perhaps explain that one is not permitted to wear underwear underneath one's shorts and socks either during my PE lessons with Mr Luke or when reporting to Mr Harris for CP in one's gym kit).

"I could … and perhaps I will, but the LORD in His wisdom gave impertinent little boys bottoms to spank, not legs. Legs are made for slapping ..." he continued as he angrily slapped my bare thighs with his hand several times before continuing "... but bottoms are made for spanking; now drop your shorts before I pull them down myself and put your hands behind your head"!

I reluctantly pulled down my shorts – feeling more humiliated than ever, as my dick was rock-hard with fear and my T-shirt wasn't long enough to cover my bits – and interlocked my hands behind my head.

"Enjoying this, are you lad" Mr Harris asked, lightly tapping the base of my balls with the cane, but hard enough to make me feel as though I had been kicked in the groin. I suddenly felt faint and as though I wanted to vomit.

"No Sir" I answered truthfully.

"Looks like you are to me you little pervert" he snapped angrily. "As you obviously like exposing yourself to me, you might as well take everything off! …. Come along now lad, take your shirt and plimsolls off too or I will double your punishment", he ordered.

I reluctantly took off my T-shirt and plimsolls and stood before him stark bollock naked, as he looked me up and down and fixed his eyes on my erect member. It was Mr Harris who was enjoying the experience, not me; fucking pervert that he is!

"Okay Anderson, bend over my desk and spread your legs apart" he ordered. "I'm going to give you two sixes; six for being impertinent to Mr Dryburn as, from your own lips, you have admitted that the cheeseboard only hurt 'a bit', and then I'm going to give you another six for being impertinent to me by allowing your penis to become hard. Your hard-on had better be gone by the time I've finished caning you or I will give you another six for good measure; understood lad"?!

"Yes Sir" I answered in disbelief. Six strokes, not twelve, let alone eighteen of the fuckers, is the maximum number any teacher – even the headmaster – is permitted to give, I thought to myself. Still, I was in no position to argue, and did as I was told without saying anything, lest Mr Harris give me another six for questioning his authority: evil bastard that he is! I'm sure he and Mr Luke must have gone to the same teacher training college as they're both a pair of sadistic cunts! Mr Harris then gave me twelve blistering strokes with the cane: eight across my arse, and two across the back of each of my thighs, each hard enough to mark – but not break – my skin, making sure I counted aloud the number of strokes he had given me and taking time either to pucker my anus with the tip of the cane or lightly tap the bottom of my scrotum in-between each stroke as I attempted to regather my composure before being struck again. It stung like Hell and hurt far more than I expected; hitherto I've only ever been caned once, and that was across the palm of my hands, for fighting with another boy in primary school.

"Now Anderson, did that hurt", Mr Harris asked after the twelfth stroke.

"Yes Sir" I sobbed, frantically rubbing my throbbing rump.

"You're not just saying that to avoid being given another six" he added.

"No Sir" I wept.

"Good! Stand up and put your hands behind your head, and turn round to face me", Mr Harris ordered.

I did as I was told, humiliated at having to expose my manhood to him a second time, yet relieved my hard-on was gone, as Mr Harris tapped the base of my scrotum with the cane. At times, one wishes one was a girl as one wouldn't have a dick to become hard from the fear of being spanked (if nothing else) or a set of balls for him to tap. "You have a nice arse Anderson but a cocky attitude; I hope for your sake, if not for mine, you do something about the latter or I will be seeing a lot more of the former ... now get dressed and bugger off"!

"Yes Sir ... thank you Sir" I replied sheepishly, before getting dressed as quickly as I could.

"And remember Anderson, having hair on your balls and wearing long trousers when you're not wearing your gym kit to see me doesn't make you a man. You may not be one of the clan [i.e., gay] but you will never be a man unless and until you can take an older man's cock up that fuckable little arse of your's and put your own cock up the arse of a boy younger than yourself! In future I shall expect you to exert greater control over your tongue just as surely as I shall expect you to control when and where your penis becomes hard, or I shall have to remind you of the basics of tongue control by getting you to suck my own member" he added, smiling like some depraved paedophile-priest and patting his crotch, as I was about to leave the room.

"Filthy bastard" I thought to myself! I thought that was the end of the matter as I changed out of my gym kit and into my school uniform in the boys' locker room adjoining the gymnasium before cycling home but, by the time I got home, my Dad (who normally gets home from work after me) was already home: as sure a sign as reporting to Mr Harris in my gym kit that something is amiss. At first I thought there must be something wrong with either my Mum or kid-brother. Sure enough, the first thing he said to me after I let myself in the front door was "is that you Jonathan? If so, go straight to your room and be sure to be ready when I arrive, as I think you and I need to have a little chat about what you said to Mr Dryburn this morning. I've just had Mr Harris on the 'phone to me and I'm not amused …"!

I didn't wait to hear the rest of what Dad had to say but climbed the stairs, resigned to the fact that I'm about to receive my third spanking of the day … and all for something as trivial as calling that old tosser Dryburn "Grandpa"! "Get a spanking at school boy and you will get another one at home" is another of Dad's favourite adages! Fuck me, my arse is already stinging like fury, and that's without Dad giving me several licks with the riding crop when he arrives!

I've just had a quick peek at my arse and the back of my thighs in the full-length mirror on my wardrobe door, and the welts from Mr Harris's cane are almost as angry as those I usually get from Dad when he whips me with his riding crop after "warming me up" with a few licks either from my plimsoll or his slipper. The riding crop probably stings as much as – if not more than – the cane as, in addition to whipping me with it across the [bare] cheeks of my arse, like my PE teacher (Mr Luke) my Dad always likes to make me pull my cheeks apart so he can also whip between them and across my anus (after first probing my rectum with his finger) to maximise my discomfort and humiliation.

Shit; is that Dad I hear coming up the stairs now?! I had better sign-off and get my shorts off now, or else I will know I will cop it big-time!!!

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