Chapter 12 Home and new arrangements

We went to breakfast where it was announced that the final day would be devoted to what was termed 'schoolboy exams'. We had no idea what this meant but after breakfast were ordered report to the schoolroom in fifteen minutes. Those who like me had served at table scampered off to put shorts on and then we all congregated in the schoolroom where, to our surprise, papers had been set out in exam-like fashion. Quizzically we took our seats and waited. All the masters were together, waiting.

“Now lads,” Patrick said, “this is a proper examination. You will be graded on your answers and, if necessary, punished for any failing grade. When you are allowed to open your papers, you will find that this examination depends upon everyone being honest. Please obey all written instructions. Put you given name on the front of the paper and then you may begin. You have 30 minutes to complete the paper.”

Memories of school flooded back as papers rustled and 'boys' read the questions. I quickly realised that the paper had been fiendishly put together. It consisted of over 100 questions, each of which required a 'yes' or 'no' answer. Most related to one's own integrity but some related to one's colleagues. Boys who knew one another would quickly display inconsistencies if they were not honest. The issue was whether one would expose the transgressions of a friend. Since we could not speak to our friends, we either had to assume they would be honest or dishonest. There was no middle ground.

I hurried through the questions deciding that honesty would be the best policy. I baulked a few times especially when questions such as “Have you ever stolen anything and not been punished accordingly?” What boy could possibly answer 'no' for the question encapsulated even the most trivial offence. I chuckled as I ticked the 'yes' box against that question because an image of we as lemmings plunging to our doom came to mind.

When 30 minutes were up we were ordered to put our pens down. I was shocked for I had only answered 83 of the questions. We were then told to pass our papers to our respective masters and to go with them while the papers were marked. Patrick ordered his group to remain in the classroom.

Rex, Randy, two others and I remained and watched nervously as Patrick assessed our answers. Patrick cross-checked answers and scribbled on various papers. He appeared to grunt in satisfaction when he found an error or an answer which would warrant discipline. Rex, who was obviously closest to Patrick in a personal sense, seemed particularly nervous.

After about 10 minutes the first sign of examination results was heard from down the hallway. The crisp 'crack' of a cane on naked flesh told us that someone had his results back already. I don't think any of us in our room expected to avoid some form of punishment and the sound was quite disconcerting.

After about 15 minutes Patrick had finished the marking. He looked at us very much in the manner of a disappointed schoolmaster. Patrick stood and told two of the lads that he would deal with them later and that they were excused. He clearly had Randy, Rex and me in his sights.

We waited.

Patrick went to the cupboard and took out a martinet and strap and put them on his desk. “James” he called with a tone that sent a chill down my spine.

I stood and answered: “Yes Sir.”

“We seem to have a problem here boy,” he said.

I just stood there and said nothing.

“Lying doesn't surprise me but stealing is a very serious matter boy,” he observed. Moreover, you and your partner have some inconsistencies in your stories. Would you care to explain?“

I thought for a moment. If I told Patrick that I had answered truthfully, Randy would bear the consequences. I gave the standard schoolboy response: “No Sir.”

“Well boy, that is just dumb insolence,” Patrick responded. “Get out here boy and assume the position”.

I shuddered at the thought of getting beating on my so very tender backside but managed to do as Patrick ordered. I walked to the block, lowered by shorts, knelt on the step and reached over the top and placed my hands on the floor. My bum protested at being stretched taut.

Patrick came to me and removed my shorts which were bunched about my ankles. This surprisingly gave me some relief as I was able to spread my knees a little and relieve some of the tension in my rear.

Patrick moved away and I looked as he glanced at my test paper.

“Well boy,” he said “it seems that you have earned six strokes for lying and six for your unpunished stealing. But for your dumb insolence you shall receive a dozen. Do you have anything to say?”

“Please Sir,” I stuttered nervously, “I don't think my backside can take such a punishment being as it is only recently birched. Might you not show me some mercy, please Sir?”

Patrick looked at me and nodded. “I shall,” he said, “but you shall have to agree to a greater punishment at the end of the week. You will get the first dozen now with the strap and two dozen with the martinet next Friday. Do you agree?”

I thought for a moment. The prospect was to trade torture now for a very unpleasant experience later. It was Hobson's choice. “Yes Sir, I agree” I replied with reluctance.

Patrick smiled with satisfaction and took up the strap. I was relieved to see that it was relatively light one which would sting like the dickens but not bite very deep into my striped backside. As he moved into position I steeled myself for the agony to come.

Patrick wasted no time in applying the leather strap to my rear and I was quickly reduced to tears. It was not the strap itself that caused me anguish but the addition of a broad application of a band of pain to my already lacerated backside. I bucked and writhed on the horrible block as the strap did its evil work but I dared not get out of position lest Patrick add more strokes to my ordeal. Finally, beside myself in a world of pain, the beating stopped and I was allowed to rise. I took my time doing so and when upright wasted no time grabbing my hot and tenderised bum. Massaging it did nothing to ease the pain. Finally I picked up my shorts and reluctantly put them on even though my beaten flesh protested vigorously at the presence of any weight being placed upon it.

“May I stand, Sir?” I asked Patrick.

Patrick nodded and then called Randy out and gave him a dressing down. Randy was sentenced to much the same punishment as me for his answers were in part diametrically opposed to mine and was accused equally of 'dumb insolence' but he was presented with a different choice.

“Right,” Patrick said when Randy asked to be spared his full beating upon his severely tenderised flesh, “a dozen with the quirt now and two dozen with the cane this coming Friday.”

Randy looked somewhat perturbed but agreed to the offer and then stripped off his shorts and moved into the require position. His bum looked very tender as he bent over the block. His firm, prominent cheeks were magnificent as always but the welts and a few tiny spots of dried blood gave them a decidedly pained appearance.

Patrick had not been prepared for bargaining so he went to the cupboard and selected a quirt. Randy watched Patrick and grimaced as he saw the single-tailed whip. His proud buttocks clenched involuntarily as Patrick took up position.

The quirt was almost impossible to see in motion as it slashed through the air and striped Randy's bum. It didn't make much noise but Randy most certainly did. As I had done, Randy wriggled and writhed in an effort to avoid the lash but the painful thin lines of the quirt continued to grow. Finally Randy started to yelp at the intensity of the blows, but Patrick did not relent. Twelve lashes was a horrible punishment and Randy was beside himself in agony when the lashing stopped. As he got up and returned to his seat I desperately wanted to hug and soothe him.

When Randy asked, Patrick consented to his remaining standing rather than subject his tender posterior to the discomfort of sitting.

“Rex,” Patrick said as he took up the exam paper which Rex had evidently submitted, “I am really disappointed in you. Here you admit to lying, to stealing and cheating. I had thought we had dealt with these issues, but yet you admit to things for which you have yet to be punished.

“Sorry Patrick,” Rex said and immediately corrected his blunder. “Sorry Sir,” he corrected himself.

“You are incorrigible,” Patrick declared. “Well, my boy, it's time you learnt a proper lesson,” Patrick stated. “You take liberties Rex. You get your pleasure from hurting others and even rogering some, and yet you also lie and cheat and dissemble. Well, there is always a day of reckoning FRex and this day is yours. Come here!”

Rex looked taken aback as he approached Patrick. “I am truly sorry,” he said as he approached his master.

“Too late, boy,” Patrick said firmly. “Take off your shorts and bend over my desk.”

Rex obeyed and Patrick proceeded to tied the young man by his ankles and wrists to the timber table.

“Now Rex,” Patrick declared, “you and I shall attend to your misdeeds on Friday evening after I have attended to our two young gentlemen.”Today however, they have use of you for the next hour. They may beat your or take advantage of you as you have of them no doubt. I care not in the slightest how they pay you back! Randall, James, Rex is yours for the next sixty minutes. Since he will be punishing you in a little over four day's time, I suggest you make the most of this opportunity. I shall return in 1 hour.“

Patrick left the school classroom with a flourish and Randy and I looked at each other in bewilderment. Randy sauntered to the front of the room and rubbed his hands over Rex's fine posterior.

“One hour to get rid of all our frustrations,” he said with a note of mirth. “Well, Rex my friend, how should we begin?”

“The quirt?” Rex suggested.

“Excellent,” Randy said in response as he picked up the evil whip. “Jamie, you give him 30 lashes and I shall follow. Then a good rogering should see our friend properly punished.”

I hesitated for a moment but quickly realised that Rex's fine bum was only going to be on offer once and so I moved to the front of the room and prepared to lash our punisher.

“This is going to be fun,” I observed as I readied the quirt for its outing.

“Make the most of it,” Rex said wryly.

“Want me to go easy because you will get to beat me again?” I asked.

“Not at all,” Rex replied. “Indeed you should do it as hard as possible, just as I do to you. I just meant that this isn't going to happen again.”

Rex's bum was quite extraordinary. Indeed only Randy's and Peter Shaw's outranked it in terms of proportion and curvature. I rubbed it with the palm of my hand and found it surprisingly damp. Rex was afraid. I felt the firm flesh and allowed my fingers to trail down his crevice.

Rex moaned with pleasure and I place the tip of a finger over his nether hole while using my other hand to reach under him to stroke his erection. “Please punish me now,” he asked with a sense of urgency.

I was only too happy to oblige and started lashing Rex's bum with all my strength. Rex seemed to groan in a form of satisfaction as the livid red lines appeared. After the first twenty lashes he started to whimper as the quirt piled on the pain.

When I finished, Randy had his turn and Rex quickly started squealing and yelping as his already damaged backside was put through the new torture.

When he finished, Randy came to me and lowered my shorts. Without a word he took my engorged organ into his mouth and soon had me as hard as a rock. There was no need for words as Randy released my organ from his mouth and I stepped behind the naked Rex. I pushed as gently as Rex had when he had taken me, but to my surprise he protested. “For heaven's sake loosen me up a bit,” Rex cried.

“Fuck that!” I exclaimed and buried my cock in Rex's bum with one brutal shove. Rex was no virgin but had a hole that simply refused to expand with use. Only after did I realise that every experience for Rex was like the taking of his virginity. At the time I took no notice either of his cries of discomfort. My focus was solely on my own pleasure.

Randy was watching the clock on the wall and wanted to make sure that he had the pleasure of Rex's bum before Patrick returned.

“Time's up,” he called to me.

“But I haven't come,” I protested.

“You can do that with me tonight at home,” Randy said and gently forced me to remove myself from the warmth of Rex's backside.

Rex let out a small cry of “fuck” as Randy entered with his larger cock. Randy took long slow strokes but Rex started to urge him to be faster and harder. Randy obliged. I watched as Randy's buttocks moved to and fro and then they clenched as he spent himself. Rex too climaxed at much the same moment with words of “yes, yes” indicating his satisfaction.

Randy's timing was perfect for he had no sooner cleaned himself and put his shorts back on than Patrick entered the room. He surveyed the scene. “You two may go,” he said the Randy and me.

“Yes Sir,” we said in unison. As we moved to the door I noticed Patrick had picked up the quirt. Whether he was dissatisfied with the beating we had administered or not, I could not tell, but it was apparent that Rex's punishment was not quite over.

Outside the classroom Randy and I loitered so that we could hear what would transpire. We stayed for a minute or so as Patrick lashed Rex slowly and methodically. The sound from outside the room was far more pleasurable for us that when we were inside and on the receiving end. As Rex's cries increased in volume we left to attend to our own severely throbbing backsides.

Randy and I took a cold shower together but the relief was only temporary. As we packed in preparation for our departure the pain in our bums had too dimensions. There was an irritating tenderness from the quirt and a much deeper throbbing pain from the birching. Combined, these two levels of pain were both uncomfortable and erotic.

Randy and I took the ride home with a deep sense of change and a sense of a new beginning. I had thought of Randy as the dominant one in our relationship but that dynamic was confused by his enjoyment of discipline as a form of foreplay as well as his strong desire to live according to a defined set of rules.

“How are we going to make this work?” I wondered as we neared our destination.

Randy and I took our leave of Patrick and Rex and the others. Rex smiled despite the discomfort he was clearly experiencing. “I'll look forward to Friday evening,” he said.

“Right,” Randy replied in a tone that indicated that he, like me, was not sure whether Rex was going to make a special effort to repay us for our lashing of him in the morning.

We walked home each in our own thought I guess. When we reached the door to Randy's house he unlocked it and took my hand. “Welcome home,” he said.

I smiled and allowed Randy to lead me. We dropped our bags and he took me upstairs to what was to be our bedroom. With sore backsides throbbing from the treatment they had received during the weekend, we quickly stripped and washed. I knew Randy wanted to take me. I allowed him to do so.

Our new lives began that day.

© Castor & Randy 2010