Jonathan's Half Term: Part Three

After an exciting and demanding half term weekend with Rick, the sports master who had become the mentor of the young teacher after their chance encounter on a class-room discipline course, Jonathan found it very difficult to return to the mundane routine of teaching. He had taken back with him the hidden marks of his very exciting weekend with his master and lover. His backside bore the all too evident marks of some very thorough discipline. Even though hidden under his sexy tight briefs and extremely close fitting soft material jeans, which had been carefully chosen in accordance with the strict instructions of the Sports Master, the vivid stripes left by the cane and the bites left by the tongues of the tawse, sprang to life with every movement the young teacher made on his return journey to the school where he had started his teaching career. As he struggled to sit comfortably on the train, he was aware of the glances from fellow passengers each time he surreptitiously tried to ease the pressure on his raging buttocks. A “farewell” caning which Rick had given him before he had been driven to the station was taking its revenge.

Throughout the train journey, which seemed to be never ending, his backside reminded him of the way in which he had been ordered to bend over the kitchen table ten minutes before he was due to set off for the last train. Rick had insisted that Jonathan should wear his special tight fitting jeans for the return journey, and when the young teacher emerged from the bedroom, erotically clad in the jeans, Rick's groin throbbed once more with sexual arousal which compelled him to give the lad one final dose of the cane.

Bent over the back of a kitchen chair, his arms and chest resting on the table, his legs apart and his buttocks moulded under the sensuously close fitting soft material, Jonathan presented the most inviting target for the Reformatory cane which Rick had deliberately selected. He knew that the young lad's backside was already ablaze following a long and hard session of CP earlier that afternoon – a session which had culminated in united ecstasy as Rick's swollen prick had slid into the young teachers arse with unbelievable ease and satisfaction. In rhythmic harmony, the two naked men had celebrated the culmination of a weekend's intensive and almost excessive sexual indulgence. Jonathan's pain threshold had been significantly raised and their mutual exploration and enjoyment of each other's bodies had reached new heights of gratification. Sent into the shower to prepare himself for the short drive to the station, Jonathan had nursed his raging buttocks with a sense of pride in his stoical survival of the weekends' frenetic whirlwind of CP and sexual demands. He had not expected that his stoicism would be tested even further or so soon.

With his overnight bag packed and placed on the floor beside him, he had obediently taken up the required position for “just one more caning” before heading for the train station. The pain of the ten infinitely accurate, forceful and well timed strokes, had penetrated beyond the existing smarting outer layer of his buttocks. Each stroke had evoked an involuntary suppressed cry from the young lad, whose sexual arousal was fluctuating between excitement at being in this all too familiar position once more, and almost instant deflation as the searing pain of each stroke had bitten deeper and deeper into him. His briefs were already beginning to feel damp at the front, and the thought of a wet stain appearing on the pale blue material of his jeans had alarmed him. The fact that his master had followed up the caning by caressing the buttocks, thighs, inner legs and the reviving bulge under the zipped-up fabric enclosure, had greatly increased the risk of the outward tell-tale sign of his erotic state being very visible when he eventually encountered his fellow passengers.

Now well on his train journey back to his school, the lower half of his body mercifully hidden by
the compartment's table, Jonathan cautiously moved his hand under the table to check that his
day dreaming had not created the same problem all over again. He had managed to lose himself in
a total recall of that final punishment in Rick's kitchen and was reacting to the memory of the final
 

full mouth to mouth, hands to arse and prick to prick embrace which had lasted several minutes after he had been allowed to straighten up. So real was the memory of that final embrace, that he felt his arousal fighting against the constraints of his jeans and knew that the pre-cum moisture was saturating his briefs. How the hell would he manage to get up from his seat and walk through the compartment with a wet patch prominently displayed like a badge or medal on his still bulging crotch? He felt his face turning the same colour as his smarting buttocks – and the train had reached his station...
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As though in a trance, Jonathan had made his way from his seat to the relative anonymity of the station platform. He had found himself walking like a penguin because his backside was still singing in falsetto with every movement of every allied muscle, and his briefs were uncomfortably wet and sticky – and he still had to walk up the long driveway to the school entrance before he could escape to the privacy of his own apartment in the staff quarters. It would be just his luck to encounter one of the prefects, or even the sports captain, who would almost certainly notice his embarrassingly visible memento of his week-end away.

With a tremendous feeling of relief, Jonathan reached his room, threw down his over-night bag, dashed into the shower room and stripped off the offending garment which had threatened to shame him. He turned to examine his backside in the small mirror, but finding it difficult to get a clear view of his buttocks, he took the mirror into the study-bedroom and, after stripping off completely, he set about carrying out a detailed examination of the many red, purple and almost blue marks which decorated his arse like an artist's pallet. He became so absorbed in tracing the cane lines and fingering the bites left by the tongues of the tawse, that he did not hear the gentle knock at his door. Nor did he hear the door opening. But he did hear the sharp intake of breath and the exclamation: “Excellent! Top marks! Or should I say, good bottom marks!!”

Jonathan dropped the mirror, swung around and found himself face to face with Senior Sports Master – Mr Crowley. The latter's eyes, bulging with delighted amazement, were focussed on the lower area of Jonathan's naked body, where the resuscitated member had resumed its throbbing state of excitement brought about by the close examination of his marked buttocks. Jonathan's eyes, widening with shock and horror, were focussed on the manly physique of this dream man who had secretly allured him every time he had seen him in his PE or sports outfits. Both men stood temporarily transfixed by the vision each was facing. Panic and consternation clashed with undisguised lustful enjoyment as young teacher and seasoned sport master began to adjust to the farcical situation in which they found themselves.

As a sports master, Mr Crowley had seen it all before – caned backsides, erections, embarrassed reactions. Nothing new in that! But what was new was to encounter it in a member of the teaching staff. Indeed, not only was that something new but it was something very exciting! And so opportune! He knew that young Jonathan had been away for the short half-term break. He knew too that Jonathan had been to stay with Rick – an old college friend from the Senior Sports Master's teacher training days. He also knew that Jonathan had been on his way back from an interesting and rewarding weekend with some mementoes of that weekend. Rick had told him. In a phone call made very soon after driving Jonathan to the train station, Rick had spoken to his old pal Mike, and had regaled him with details of the weekend's immensely satisfactory activities. So Mr Crowley had known what to expect – eventually – but to see it freely displayed before him so quickly after the young teacher's return was, well......too good to be true!

As Jonathan fumbled to cover his embarrassment, Mr. Crowley quickly put him at ease. He closed the door, moved towards Jonathan, pulled away the towel with which the young teacher had tried to hide his aroused state and glowing buttocks, and, placing one hand on the lad's rear and the other under the lad's chin, smiled and explained his total lack of shock at the young man's state. He enlightened Jonathan about the long friendship which had existed between him and Rick, and about the shared interest which the two of them had had ever since their teacher training days. He confessed to Jonathan how much he had been “drawn” to the young teacher from the very first day he had started teaching in the school.

He had assumed that the young teacher would be totally uninterested in anything other than flirting with the local girls, until he had visited the very same men's clothing shop in the town at which Jonathan had purchased the very special well fitting blue jeans which Rick had instructed him to buy. Mr Crowley had been, and still was, a regular customer at the said men's clothing shop and had frequently received the full attention – both inside the changing booth and elsewhere – of the very keen young assistant who had so willingly and solicitously assisted Jonathan in the choice of the now well worn soft blue jeans. A chance remark by the young shop assistant had alerted Mr Crowley to Jonathan's visit to purchase the jeans for his half-term visit to Rick. Mr Crowley had casually mentioned all this to Rick on the phone prior to the half term break. He had suitably rewarded the young shop assistant during the shop assistant's visit to Mr. Crowley's private apartment in the school during the half term break, and was now following up Rick's request to “keep an eye on Jonathan” on his return to the school.

Sitting alongside the Senior Sports Master, shivering slightly because of his nakedness and shock at the turn of events, Jonathan's mind was in a whirl. The one and only member of the teaching staff, in this his first teaching post, who had immediately caught Jonathan's attention and aroused in him the same longing which he had felt when he first met Rick, was now sitting beside him, telling him that he was a long standing friend of Rick's and that Rick had asked him to “keep an eye on him.” The young teacher's excitement surged back in full force as he felt the strong thigh of the Senior Sports Master pressing against his own naked thigh. He sensed his breathing quickening and his pulse racing as he contemplated the significance of this unexpected visit and revelation. Was this handsome man of undoubted authority going to “keep an eye on him” in the only way Rick would mean him to? Would the Senior Sports Master be acting “on behalf of Rick during term time? Would......

His silent questioning and speculation came to an abrupt end as Mr Crowley's hand was placed firmly on the young lad's thigh. Tightening his grip on the trembling limb, Mr Crowley began to answer Jonathan's unspoken questions:“OK Jonathan, Relax lad! To begin with, you can call
me Mike when we are alone, but in the more formal school situations, you must address me as Mr Crowley. Is that understood?” A note of sternness came into the Sports Master's voice at that point and Jonathan nodded his assent.

Now, however, Mike continued, “we must get your backside seen to. I can see that my good old pal Rick has been demonstrating his renowned caning skills on you! Stay there, as you are. I will be back very soon. I am going to get something to rub on your backside to ease the bruising.”

Jonathan lay back on his bed face down and waited. He had been told to stay as he was – naked – and he sensed that the Sports Master had meant what he said. As the youngest and newest member of the teaching staff, he felt obliged to do what one of the most senior members of staff had ordered him to do. So it was that, on his return from his apartment, armed with a tube of cream, Mr Crowley was presented with the alluring sight of the young teacher's naked body invitingly sprawled across the bed. Things were going really well. Not only had he arrived in the young man's room when the lad was examining his backside in a mirror, but now, the same young man was lying naked, caned arse still glowing like a beacon, ready to receive whatever ministrations were on offer!

Mike's excitement leapt to full capacity under his designer briefs. He sat on the edge of the lad's bed and let his hands roam gently and seductively over the well formed curves of the caned buttocks. He applied some of the cream and gently massaged it into the tender flesh. He felt the tension in the young lad diminishing; he heard the quiet sigh of intense erotic pleasure as he spread the cream wider, around the tops and sides of the lad's cheeks; he saw the way Jonathan raised his buttocks to widen the cleft between them, inviting the Sports Master's fingers to freely enter and explore the Forbidden Palace of Pleasure; he felt his own excitement raging and protesting against the tight constraints of his briefs as every signal from the young teacher was inviting him to break through any inhibitions or considerations of probity, to share this new found intimacy for which they both were clearly craving.

As Mike stood to release his swollen throbbing erection from the wet, sticky entrapment of his briefs and shorts, Jonathan turned his face towards the master and with the skill and expertise of an experienced lover, closed his mouth around the inviting phallus. Gently pulling the young lad's head closer to him, and feeling his member sliding unhindered into the warm moist enclosure, the Sports Master let his new conquest work his tongue and mouth to build up a climax which demanded all the master's reserves to hold back until he could position himself on top of the naked youthful body and slide into paradise.
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Later that evening, both men being free of any school duties, Jonathan made his way to the Senior Sports Master's private apartment in a separate wing of the school building. Seniority had provided Mr Crowley with one of the more isolated, private and effectively sound-proof rooms in the school – a privilege which Jonathan was soon to discover would be to their mutual benefit. On this occasion, and being the first of many, Jonathan's visit was purely a social courtesy – at least initially. His backside still raged with the aftermath of Rick's farewell caning and all the previous punishments over the half term weekend. He was in no state to cope with anything else along those lines – much to the disappointment of the Senior Sports Master. As a long established teacher, trained in the days when teachers were expected and equipped to maintain discipline in the class-room, Mr Crowley had not shrunk from employing his disciplinary skills when the need arose, as it very frequently did in the “good old days” Even when corporal punishment was so foolishly banished from schools, he had still managed to exercise his authority and practice his skills within the privacy of his sound– proof apartment when a willing offender – of the right age – made himself available. The Senior Sports Master now had very high hopes of adding the latest recruit to the school staff to his list of invitees – especially as his long time college friend Rick had entrusted him with the responsibility of “keeping an eye” on Jonathan, with all the additional privileges which that entailed.

This first visit, being primarily of a social nature, would to all intents and purposes help them to get to know each other in a relaxed, informal way, over a glass or two or three of wine. And they were relaxed – very relaxed – as the wine was consumed, as the conversation became more and more personal, and as the extremely close proximity of their bodies side by side on the somewhat small settee, made it virtually impossible to avoid physical contact, which sparked off electrical currents of mutual erotic longings.

The bedroom conveniently adjoined the lounge area in which the relaxing consumption of wine had begun, but it was not long before Jonathan was given the courtesy of seeing the bedroom, which clearly had an even greater relaxing ambiance. So it was not at all surprising that this first social visit should reach its climax in a torrent of naked physical intimacy on the Senior Sports Master's extremely relaxing king-sized bed.
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During the following days and weeks, strict formality governed the working relationship between the Senior Sports Master and the newest member of the teaching staff. Indeed, at times Mr Crowley was noticeably harsh in the way he addressed Jonathan in the staff-room or in staff meetings, creating the distinct impression that he regarded the young teacher as simply that: a young inexperienced teacher who needed to be kept in line and to be made to respect his elders. All the other teachers felt sorry for the dismissive way in which Jonathan was being treated by the Senior Sports Master – but then, many of them had had the same experience in their first few years at the school. So there was nothing abnormal.

The situation became potentially even more fraught when Jonathan was timetabled to take a few sports lessons under the direction of Mr Crowley. On three occasions each week, Jonathan found himself being shadowed by the Senior Sports Master as he attempted to supervise the sports training of the lower sixth form. Such supervision posed no problem on the sports field, but when it came to having to supervise the strapping, well-developed 6th formers in the showers afterwards,
Jonathan felt distinctly uncomfortable as he watched mature naked bodies parading in front him under the very watchful gaze of Mr Crowley. Things began to fall apart when, at the end of a particularly difficult day, and an equally difficult training session, a fracas developed in the showers, and in a moment of madness Jonathan picked up a very large plimsol and swung across the bare buttock of the two ring leaders, leaving on their behinds the unmistakeable evidence of an unauthorised, unlawful action. When Mr Crowley quietly whispered to Jonathan: “I would like to have a work with you in my office,” Jonathan did not need a degree in mind-reading to work out the likely consequences of such an invitation.

As he made his way to the Senior Sports Master's private, sound-proof apartment in another wing of the school building, he was aware of a surging conflict of emotions, expectations and anxieties which were swirling around in his stomach, in his groin and in his mind. It was very clear that Mr Crowley had not invited him to his apartment for a glass of wine and a social chat. In fact, Mr Crowley had not invited him, he had ordered him to appear immediately after completing any school duties – dormitory duties or supervision duties. The tone of his voice, as he had laid down these terms to Jonathan in the office adjoining the sports changing area, had indicated in no uncertain terms that Mr Crowley was going to deal with a potentially serious matter in a very serious manner.

The seriousness with which the matter was going to be handled became clear the moment Jonathan entered the private, sound-proof apartment. A thin pair of shorts; a small but stoutly built wooden table with two cushions on top; a nasty looking tawse and an even nastier looking cane, proclaimed the severity with which Jonathan's inadvertent action was going to be “rewarded. He barely had time to strip and put on the shorts, before the full impact of what lay ahead hit him. He adopted the required position over the table. His legs were spaced apart, perfectly straight and his toes just about supporting him. His buttocks were firmly encased in the tightest pair of thin shorts he had worn for a very long time. His chest rested on the softness of the cushions and his hand gripped the hard edges of the table as his eyes examined the wine stains on the carpet in front of him. His mind was dominated by the initial sight of the bare-chested Senior Sports Master in his regulation sports shorts, which accentuated every aspect of his masculine authority, and his swirling conflict of emotions, expectations and anxieties reached a new peak as he felt the master's hand smoothing out non-existent creases in the taut material of the very brief shorts which would provide no protection whatsoever against the demonic bite of the cane or of the tawse.

Memories of the most recent encounter with the cane in Rick's kitchen added to the swirling conflict which continued to control his mind and body. The aftermath of that caning, and of all the other punishments he had been given over the half term weekend, had vanished. His buttocks were now absolutely unmarked – but not for much longer. The familiar teasing of the tawse being trailed across his proffered buttocks heralded the onset of a punishment session which was going to match anything he had received during the recent half term weekend. The first thwack of the tawse shocked him more by its force than its initial pain. It had been delivered with very deliberate force and accuracy, and the long pause before the second lash allowed the pain to begin it's insidious build-up as it penetrated further and further into his backside. He gripped the table edge harder to keep his position. He braced himself for the second lash, and felt himself being propelled forward as it almost flattened the curves of his buttocks. Years of experience and acquired expertise were driving the momentum of this punishment – and it had only just started.

Lash after lash piled on the surface heat and plunged the pain deeper and deeper into his very being. He had unconsciously resolved not to show any weakness as he had taken up his position for the punishment, but the lashes were a greater challenge than he had expected, and slowly but surely his resolve was ebbing away. His breath was coming in more rapid gulps; his attempts to suppress any audible reaction were becoming ineffective, and as the final lash swooped across his vibrating backside, the first of many anguished cries burst from his throat.

The Senior Sports Master's voice sternly ordered him to straighten up; to remove his shorts; to place them on the side table; to return to the punishment table and to resume his position. Once again a hand explored the burning surface of his backside, between his thighs and around his flagging member. Fingers probed the cleft between his buttocks and worked their way into him. The unrelenting pain fought against his deeper desire to respond to the caressing and fondling and probing, but with the return of the trailing fingers of the tawse, that contest was lost and Jonathan braced himself once more for the inevitable re-invasion of his arse.

Comparison of tawse landing on tight thin shorts and tawse landing on naked flesh was for Jonathan a purely academic exercise. There was no significant difference other than the fact that knowing his backside was now totally unprotected, and that it was already saturated with the agony created by the first set of lashes, psychologically convinced him that this second phase was even more threatening. He lurched, wrestled, heaved and twisted . He shook his buttocks between each lash, making them wobble like jelly in a vain attempt to dispel the overwhelming pain. He mentally calculated the length of each pause following each invasion. He choked back as many cries as he could, but was unable to control all of them. Some cries pushed their strangled way out of his mouth, and despite his grim determination not to, he found himself plaintively pleading for mercy.

His arse was now a volcano of erupting, engulfing spasms of searing pain. Wave after wave crashed across his buttocks even after the lashings had ceased. A central band of blazing flesh was scorched across the middle of his cheeks, and the right hand side of his buttock was dancing with the numerous vicious bites from the tongues of the tawse. He lay there panting, heaving, writhing and desperately trying to dissipate the intense gnawing which savaged his backside. Sweat poured from his forehead into his eyes mingling with tears which had escaped through tightened eyelids. Straightened legs trembled with the tension of being kept firmly in place, and the inner conflict of emotions and expectations resumed its turmoil as two hands worked their way around his thighs, tantalising his flaccid member, and a distant voice whispered: “Get up lad.”

Staggering to his feet, turning painfully to face the master and peering through misty eyes, Jonathan waited to learn the rest of his fate. A hand lifted his chin and the master's face moved closer to his. The warm breath from the master's open mouth enticed an automatic response from the young teacher. Their mouths met, their tongues slid lasciviously around each other and into each other's domain. Their bodies embraced each other and the hardness of the master's throbbing erection pressed through the Senior Sports Master's regulation shorts, into the groin of the young offender, reawakening his own timid response. Two large hands gently cupped the smarting buttocks as, in a silent waltz, the two entwined bodies glided towards the bedroom and onto the king sized bed.

In an interlude of shared eroticism, the Senior teacher and the Junior teacher became two lovers lost in a fantasy of sexual gratification. Mouths willingly swallowed hot wet erections; lips and tongues worked their sensuous magic on raised nipples; the fingers of one probed the privacy of the other's arse as they moved ecstatically towards the final climatic act.....

Coitus interruptus!

In a flash the passionate ballet came to an abrupt halt. The wicked cane appeared on stage to wreak its vengeance before the couple could sail way into the sunset on a cloud of fervent, feverish love-making. Jonathan found himself back in the punishment room, astride the table, his legs apart and his hands once again gripping the edges of the table. The evil cane was sending out its clear warning signals as it swished through the air. Jonathan could almost feel the waves of air being caused by the rapid flexing motions of the very supple cane which was about to be used on him. A thin, cold, menacing presence made itself felt on the unmarked thighs of the young teacher. The cold presence slid its way up to the smarting buttocks where its coldness was lost in the heat radiating from the legacy of the tawse.

An almost unbearably long pause ensued before the first stroke swept down and sliced into the crease between thigh and buttock. Its intensity wrenched a spontaneous cry of unbelief from Jonathan, and its impact thrust him off balance. His legs flew in different directions; his hands skidded away from the sides of the table; his backside leapt up and shook like a dog shaking his wet coat; his head jerked up and only the firm hand of his master pressing on the small of the young teacher's back prevented him from leaping away from the table and cavorting around the room.
With further proof of his long experience of caning boys, Mr Crowley waited patiently until Jonathan had subsided and had resumed his submissive position. He repeated the slow, calculated process of trailing the cane from the thighs up to the selected part of the young man's buttocks, let it lie there for a few seconds, raised it to shoulder height and swung it down across the target.

All hell broke loose as Jonathan performed a repeat version of the previous acrobats, his plaintive cries turning into desperate pleadings, and for a further ten strokes the spontaneous re-enactments proceeded – accellerando – to their final dramatic climax.

Embraced in the strong arms of the Senior Sports Master, Jonathan was led once more into the adjoining bed-room, and in a lather of kissing, caressing, licking, rimming, sucking and eventual fucking the Senior Sports Master completed the course of correction for the newest member of the teaching staff.

He could now send a very honest report back to his long standing college friend, Rick, to assure him that he was keeping a very good, close eye on Jonathan.