raden67
06-02-2010, 02:01 AM
Demon Headmaster punishes an impertinent boy.
So here I am being led into Covspank, the Demon Headmaster’s study. I think to myself it might be a good idea to get an apology in as soon as I can but no sooner than Sir has closed the door, I’m spun round and placed nose first up against the wood panelling of the door.
“Get your hands on your head boy!” are Sir’s only words to me.
Hmm, must find a way to appeal to Sir’s better nature, perhaps a display of my puppy dog eyes and sad remorseful face might do the trick. I’m snapped out of my daydreaming,
“Come here boy! Stand right here!”
Sir’s pointing to where he expects me to stand, as I close the distance I can feel Sir’s eyes surveying every part of me.
It’s not so much as to what Sir says to you but the way in which he says it. The words are like vocal scythes, cutting you down to size. My six foot one frame is being systematically chopped inch by inch. I dare not to look Sir in the face, the last thing I want to do is establish eye to eye contact. I glance down to my left only to be confronted by the sight of an array of correctional implements laid out ready for use. I cast my eyes away this time to the right, only now to horrified by the sight of an arrangement of canes. The thoughts of appealing to Sir’s better nature are quickly vanishing. My eyes fall to my feet.
I’m slightly startled when a firm stabbing finger jabs my chest and in one swift move Sir flips my chin up. I’m now caught in the glare of Sir’s steely eyes. My legs have started to shake.
“Respect, obedience, discipline and submission”
I’m having these words drummed into me. It’s now I know that my impertinence is going to cost me dearly. Sir arranges his chair.
“Over my knee boy! palms on the floor!”
I have a certain sense of relief as I position myself. At least I still have my levi’s on. The first few slaps to my bottom are simply exploratory, probing my defences. It’s not until Sir grips my belt and pulls the denim tight that i start to get a taste of what’s in store for me. There’s a pause,
“Stand up boy! Lower your jeans and reassume your position” oh well, there goes my relief!
Now the smacks are harder and with purpose. For the first time i have to try quite hard to keep my mouth closed and not give away a hint of hurt. There’s no relenting to Sir’s pace, smack! smack! my white cotton ck’s offer scant protection. There’s a pause as my pants are rolled down to my knees. Smack! Smack! These are full blooded blows to the sweet spot where bottom meets thigh. I’m shocked by the area that Sir’s hand can cover with a single blow. It’s really starting to sting and I let out my first muffled cry.
“Starting to get through to you, am I boy?”
Sir’s smacks now go even lower and harder than ever. The tops of my taut thighs are being lit up. I try a vain attempt to wriggle free but Sir’s grip is vice like. Smack!! Smack!! Every square inch of my bottom is going to be spanked.
“Right boy! Go stand at the door, hands on head”
I struggle to rise off Sir’s knee. Without thinking I put my hands to my poor bottom and manage a quick rub.
“Who told you to rub your bottom!” comes Sirs roaring voice. Smack! smack! Sir delivers another series of smacks as I’m escorted to the door. My cotton pants have been pulled back up to hide my shame. They feel like they're steadily welding themselves to my fiery cheeks.
The respite only last for a few minutes.
“Come here boy! over my knee! I’m going to introduce you to some friends of mine. Bertie the bath brush and Horace the hairbrush”
Do not be fooled into thinking, dear readers, that these are ordinary household items. For they come with a fearsome reputation as astute attitude adjusters. Unfortunately for me Sir had planned to demonstrate them to their full potential.
From the moment of first impact and the second it takes the brain to register the effect ,i know i’m in for a very tough time. Its not possible to contain ones cries so with each swot of my bottom I let out a corresponding howl as my back arches and my head bobs up for a desperate gulp of air.
“Get that head down boy! Are there tears yet boy!”
My pants descend again to my knees and Sir continues the relentless paddling of my throbbing and painful rear.
“Are there tears yet boy! Answer me boy!”
I can’t speak let alone breath, the words won't come out.
“Is that a no boy! Well we’ll just have to continue until they do!”
Bertie and Horace show this boy no mercy. Cheek, thigh, cheek, thigh my god it hurts.
It’s the most painful stagger back to the door yet. Being upright gives me the chance to clench my buttocks together, although very sore you get a bit of relief by then releasing the muscles. I’m so hoping that Sir will now take pity on this poor boy and accept an apology for my behaviour. No chance!
“Come and stand here boy!”
I’m directed to the front of Sir’s armchair.
“kneel, then slide yourself over the top. palms to the floor” comes the command.
“Respect, obedience, discipline and submission” I’m really starting to understand the meaning of these words.
The weight of my body rests on my hands. My bottom is arched acutely, forcing my buttocks to the peak of tension. My hamstrings are also feeling the strain. Sir’s next words are frightening.
“I’m going to cane you boy!”
From my upside down position a switch comes into my line of sight.
“This is Suzie the switch” Sir proudly announces “she comes in two forms, single and a nice little triple that I’ve taped together”.
I feel it come to rest on my bottom.
“Get those legs wider apart boy” Sir’s opening me up for maximum effect. Cruel, cruel Sir.
Swish! The first electrifying stoke arrives. Left cheek, right cheek, then the real surprise. There’s a sting in the tail as Suzie wraps herself over the contours of my behind. It’s a real painful kiss to the far right of my buttock. Owww!! swish! owww!! as she kisses me again and again. I now lose my pants fully along with any hope of leniency.
Sir seems to be taking great delight in showing off his implements as a three pronged switch is thrust into view.
“This will get the tears flowing boy!”
Now one switch is bad enough but three together, three! Six hard whips of my bottom follow, six cries of pain are released. Why have I been such a bad boy, why!
“Respect, obedience, discipline and submission” I must learn these words off by heart.
“I’d like you to meet Roger, Roger the rattan”
I’m staring opened mouthed at the sight of such a cane. It’s old school-crooked handled.
“Don’t worry boy, he doesn’t sting too much”
I find Sir’s sense of humour not very funny. It’s twice the thickness of Suzie and I’m about to find out if it’s twice as painful. I flinch as the cool rod touches my flesh, I’m breathing rapidly and trying to compose myself for the impending “six of the best”.
Swish! Whack! Howl! I don’t have control over my bottom any more. The stroke has me writhing from side to side as I release the air from my lungs, boy that stings! No sooner than I’ve settled the next stroke comes sailing in, swish! whack! howl! five more times. I want to be a good boy! I so want to be a good boy!
Surely this must be it, haven’t I paid for my sins, surely Sir can see this! No chance!
Into my now blurred, teary eyed vision comes the most terrifying sight of all.
“this is Doris my boy! Doris the dragon!”
Sir allows me time to study this devil in disguise. Beautiful in her deep smoked colour, awe inspiring in her girth. I’m never going to survive this in one piece.
“Twelve strokes boy! You will count and thank your master for each one”
TWELVE! did I hear that right. TWELVE!
“I’m waiting boy! Ask for your first stroke!” say’s Sir as he bring Doris to bear on my bruised and battered bottom, stoutly tapping the tip to find his range to the target.
“one….please……sir……” I can hardly get the words out. I don’t want to say them, i really don’t.
Tap, tap whoosh!! wallop!! god it lands with a thundering whack! It’s mind numbing as the impact ignites my behind to new unfound levels of intensity. I cry out as my bum has a spasm. left, right, up and down it writhes.
“t.t.t.thank...y.y.y.you...s.s.sir” I eventually splutter out. I have to summon up all my inner strength to continue. I’m determined more than ever now to prove to Sir that i can be a man and take what i deserve. Strokes two, three and four are delivered on my request. It’s then that Sir shows his real merciless side.
“Are you sure that’s four boy! I won’t have you cheat me of my strokes boy!”
You might think that it's an easy task. Count from one to twelve ,what could be more simple than that. The problem is I’ve got so many endorphins running through my body now that I am literally on a high. Simple arithmetic is simply too hard to fathom. Three times I lose count. Three times I take an extra wallop from Doris. This is one demon headmaster! Taking stoke twelve(or fifteen as it was) must be my equivalent to climbing mount everest. I’m so, so sore!
“Hmmm! Well boy! I think six to the thighs are in order here!”
When will this man stop! When will I have atoned for my behaviour! Not just yet is the answer!
I’ve never experienced being caned across the backs of my thighs. Considering I’ve been in position for some time now, my endurance is literally being stretched to the limit. It’s as punishing as it sounds. The dragon takes no prisoners.
Whoosh!! Wallop!! Yelp!! Now it’s my legs turn to spasm. Ouch!! That’s harsh. Sir’s not holding back with these. One after another they land, stinging, burning stripes of fire engulf the muscles.
I get such a head rush when I’m finally ordered to stand. My legs are wobbling and shaking .The slightest movement causes each welt on my bottom to throb.
“Back to the door boy!”
I do my best and plant my nose back to it’s familiar position but for Sir I’m not close enough to the door. I fail to notice that Sir has armed himself with Bertie the bath brush. Smack! Smack! Sir reels off a series of swots to my bottom that nearly send me right though the door. I howl in anguish. That’s so mean!
“Respect, obedience, discipline and submission” I swear I’ll never be bad again…honest!
It’s so hard to stand still with my hands on my head. I can’t tell my right cheek from the left, there hurting so much. It’s at this point I make a fatal error. I hear Sir ask me a question but I’m so preoccupied with the pain from my rear i don’t really hear exactly what he said. I take a gamble and answer “no Sir!” Well,i had a 50/50 chance of being right. Wrong answer. Sir takes me back to the armchair by my ear. I don’t need to be told as I obediently assume my position. Only this time Sir offers me my socks to bite on and stifle the up and coming screams. It’s a final lesson with Horace the hairbrush. I can tell this is going to be a stern punishment. Sir has secured my midriff with a very weighty grip. Yet again my bottom and thighs are taut, open to Sir’s choice of punishment. This is very end of my limit. Horace lands with such ferocity that I scream into my socks. Horace is no respecter of limits. It demands submission, nothing more nothing less. Cheek and thigh, cheek and thigh, wallop after wallop. I have to submit. The walloping is so intense. I don’t know how Sir manages to keep me in place.
“Right boy! Get yourself dressed!”
I can’t move for a minute. I’m so stunned from the beating. I finally manage to slide back over the top of the armchair. I stumble to my pants but I just can’t seem to focus too well, it takes three attempts to find the opening to put my feet through. Inch by inch I raise them, passing each stinging welt on the way. My jeans are just as awkward. Once fully dressed sir offers me his hand.
“Thank you for my beating Sir! I apologise for my behaviour Sir!”
Sir’s reply is curt and to the point
“What are the four words you must remember boy!”
Think, think, I can’t remember, I pause for a second,
“Respect, obedience, discipline and submission Sir.”
A day later, as I look back at my visit to the Headmaster's study, you might think it strange, but I can't wait for my next visit! Although painful (i've struggled to stay sitting down as i write this!) it's left me with a real high. Sir is a real Master. If you haven't yet been to see him, i'd suggest you do so as soon as you can.
The pictures of my beating are avaiable to view at my profile raden67 "the impertinent boy" album. thank you!
So here I am being led into Covspank, the Demon Headmaster’s study. I think to myself it might be a good idea to get an apology in as soon as I can but no sooner than Sir has closed the door, I’m spun round and placed nose first up against the wood panelling of the door.
“Get your hands on your head boy!” are Sir’s only words to me.
Hmm, must find a way to appeal to Sir’s better nature, perhaps a display of my puppy dog eyes and sad remorseful face might do the trick. I’m snapped out of my daydreaming,
“Come here boy! Stand right here!”
Sir’s pointing to where he expects me to stand, as I close the distance I can feel Sir’s eyes surveying every part of me.
It’s not so much as to what Sir says to you but the way in which he says it. The words are like vocal scythes, cutting you down to size. My six foot one frame is being systematically chopped inch by inch. I dare not to look Sir in the face, the last thing I want to do is establish eye to eye contact. I glance down to my left only to be confronted by the sight of an array of correctional implements laid out ready for use. I cast my eyes away this time to the right, only now to horrified by the sight of an arrangement of canes. The thoughts of appealing to Sir’s better nature are quickly vanishing. My eyes fall to my feet.
I’m slightly startled when a firm stabbing finger jabs my chest and in one swift move Sir flips my chin up. I’m now caught in the glare of Sir’s steely eyes. My legs have started to shake.
“Respect, obedience, discipline and submission”
I’m having these words drummed into me. It’s now I know that my impertinence is going to cost me dearly. Sir arranges his chair.
“Over my knee boy! palms on the floor!”
I have a certain sense of relief as I position myself. At least I still have my levi’s on. The first few slaps to my bottom are simply exploratory, probing my defences. It’s not until Sir grips my belt and pulls the denim tight that i start to get a taste of what’s in store for me. There’s a pause,
“Stand up boy! Lower your jeans and reassume your position” oh well, there goes my relief!
Now the smacks are harder and with purpose. For the first time i have to try quite hard to keep my mouth closed and not give away a hint of hurt. There’s no relenting to Sir’s pace, smack! smack! my white cotton ck’s offer scant protection. There’s a pause as my pants are rolled down to my knees. Smack! Smack! These are full blooded blows to the sweet spot where bottom meets thigh. I’m shocked by the area that Sir’s hand can cover with a single blow. It’s really starting to sting and I let out my first muffled cry.
“Starting to get through to you, am I boy?”
Sir’s smacks now go even lower and harder than ever. The tops of my taut thighs are being lit up. I try a vain attempt to wriggle free but Sir’s grip is vice like. Smack!! Smack!! Every square inch of my bottom is going to be spanked.
“Right boy! Go stand at the door, hands on head”
I struggle to rise off Sir’s knee. Without thinking I put my hands to my poor bottom and manage a quick rub.
“Who told you to rub your bottom!” comes Sirs roaring voice. Smack! smack! Sir delivers another series of smacks as I’m escorted to the door. My cotton pants have been pulled back up to hide my shame. They feel like they're steadily welding themselves to my fiery cheeks.
The respite only last for a few minutes.
“Come here boy! over my knee! I’m going to introduce you to some friends of mine. Bertie the bath brush and Horace the hairbrush”
Do not be fooled into thinking, dear readers, that these are ordinary household items. For they come with a fearsome reputation as astute attitude adjusters. Unfortunately for me Sir had planned to demonstrate them to their full potential.
From the moment of first impact and the second it takes the brain to register the effect ,i know i’m in for a very tough time. Its not possible to contain ones cries so with each swot of my bottom I let out a corresponding howl as my back arches and my head bobs up for a desperate gulp of air.
“Get that head down boy! Are there tears yet boy!”
My pants descend again to my knees and Sir continues the relentless paddling of my throbbing and painful rear.
“Are there tears yet boy! Answer me boy!”
I can’t speak let alone breath, the words won't come out.
“Is that a no boy! Well we’ll just have to continue until they do!”
Bertie and Horace show this boy no mercy. Cheek, thigh, cheek, thigh my god it hurts.
It’s the most painful stagger back to the door yet. Being upright gives me the chance to clench my buttocks together, although very sore you get a bit of relief by then releasing the muscles. I’m so hoping that Sir will now take pity on this poor boy and accept an apology for my behaviour. No chance!
“Come and stand here boy!”
I’m directed to the front of Sir’s armchair.
“kneel, then slide yourself over the top. palms to the floor” comes the command.
“Respect, obedience, discipline and submission” I’m really starting to understand the meaning of these words.
The weight of my body rests on my hands. My bottom is arched acutely, forcing my buttocks to the peak of tension. My hamstrings are also feeling the strain. Sir’s next words are frightening.
“I’m going to cane you boy!”
From my upside down position a switch comes into my line of sight.
“This is Suzie the switch” Sir proudly announces “she comes in two forms, single and a nice little triple that I’ve taped together”.
I feel it come to rest on my bottom.
“Get those legs wider apart boy” Sir’s opening me up for maximum effect. Cruel, cruel Sir.
Swish! The first electrifying stoke arrives. Left cheek, right cheek, then the real surprise. There’s a sting in the tail as Suzie wraps herself over the contours of my behind. It’s a real painful kiss to the far right of my buttock. Owww!! swish! owww!! as she kisses me again and again. I now lose my pants fully along with any hope of leniency.
Sir seems to be taking great delight in showing off his implements as a three pronged switch is thrust into view.
“This will get the tears flowing boy!”
Now one switch is bad enough but three together, three! Six hard whips of my bottom follow, six cries of pain are released. Why have I been such a bad boy, why!
“Respect, obedience, discipline and submission” I must learn these words off by heart.
“I’d like you to meet Roger, Roger the rattan”
I’m staring opened mouthed at the sight of such a cane. It’s old school-crooked handled.
“Don’t worry boy, he doesn’t sting too much”
I find Sir’s sense of humour not very funny. It’s twice the thickness of Suzie and I’m about to find out if it’s twice as painful. I flinch as the cool rod touches my flesh, I’m breathing rapidly and trying to compose myself for the impending “six of the best”.
Swish! Whack! Howl! I don’t have control over my bottom any more. The stroke has me writhing from side to side as I release the air from my lungs, boy that stings! No sooner than I’ve settled the next stroke comes sailing in, swish! whack! howl! five more times. I want to be a good boy! I so want to be a good boy!
Surely this must be it, haven’t I paid for my sins, surely Sir can see this! No chance!
Into my now blurred, teary eyed vision comes the most terrifying sight of all.
“this is Doris my boy! Doris the dragon!”
Sir allows me time to study this devil in disguise. Beautiful in her deep smoked colour, awe inspiring in her girth. I’m never going to survive this in one piece.
“Twelve strokes boy! You will count and thank your master for each one”
TWELVE! did I hear that right. TWELVE!
“I’m waiting boy! Ask for your first stroke!” say’s Sir as he bring Doris to bear on my bruised and battered bottom, stoutly tapping the tip to find his range to the target.
“one….please……sir……” I can hardly get the words out. I don’t want to say them, i really don’t.
Tap, tap whoosh!! wallop!! god it lands with a thundering whack! It’s mind numbing as the impact ignites my behind to new unfound levels of intensity. I cry out as my bum has a spasm. left, right, up and down it writhes.
“t.t.t.thank...y.y.y.you...s.s.sir” I eventually splutter out. I have to summon up all my inner strength to continue. I’m determined more than ever now to prove to Sir that i can be a man and take what i deserve. Strokes two, three and four are delivered on my request. It’s then that Sir shows his real merciless side.
“Are you sure that’s four boy! I won’t have you cheat me of my strokes boy!”
You might think that it's an easy task. Count from one to twelve ,what could be more simple than that. The problem is I’ve got so many endorphins running through my body now that I am literally on a high. Simple arithmetic is simply too hard to fathom. Three times I lose count. Three times I take an extra wallop from Doris. This is one demon headmaster! Taking stoke twelve(or fifteen as it was) must be my equivalent to climbing mount everest. I’m so, so sore!
“Hmmm! Well boy! I think six to the thighs are in order here!”
When will this man stop! When will I have atoned for my behaviour! Not just yet is the answer!
I’ve never experienced being caned across the backs of my thighs. Considering I’ve been in position for some time now, my endurance is literally being stretched to the limit. It’s as punishing as it sounds. The dragon takes no prisoners.
Whoosh!! Wallop!! Yelp!! Now it’s my legs turn to spasm. Ouch!! That’s harsh. Sir’s not holding back with these. One after another they land, stinging, burning stripes of fire engulf the muscles.
I get such a head rush when I’m finally ordered to stand. My legs are wobbling and shaking .The slightest movement causes each welt on my bottom to throb.
“Back to the door boy!”
I do my best and plant my nose back to it’s familiar position but for Sir I’m not close enough to the door. I fail to notice that Sir has armed himself with Bertie the bath brush. Smack! Smack! Sir reels off a series of swots to my bottom that nearly send me right though the door. I howl in anguish. That’s so mean!
“Respect, obedience, discipline and submission” I swear I’ll never be bad again…honest!
It’s so hard to stand still with my hands on my head. I can’t tell my right cheek from the left, there hurting so much. It’s at this point I make a fatal error. I hear Sir ask me a question but I’m so preoccupied with the pain from my rear i don’t really hear exactly what he said. I take a gamble and answer “no Sir!” Well,i had a 50/50 chance of being right. Wrong answer. Sir takes me back to the armchair by my ear. I don’t need to be told as I obediently assume my position. Only this time Sir offers me my socks to bite on and stifle the up and coming screams. It’s a final lesson with Horace the hairbrush. I can tell this is going to be a stern punishment. Sir has secured my midriff with a very weighty grip. Yet again my bottom and thighs are taut, open to Sir’s choice of punishment. This is very end of my limit. Horace lands with such ferocity that I scream into my socks. Horace is no respecter of limits. It demands submission, nothing more nothing less. Cheek and thigh, cheek and thigh, wallop after wallop. I have to submit. The walloping is so intense. I don’t know how Sir manages to keep me in place.
“Right boy! Get yourself dressed!”
I can’t move for a minute. I’m so stunned from the beating. I finally manage to slide back over the top of the armchair. I stumble to my pants but I just can’t seem to focus too well, it takes three attempts to find the opening to put my feet through. Inch by inch I raise them, passing each stinging welt on the way. My jeans are just as awkward. Once fully dressed sir offers me his hand.
“Thank you for my beating Sir! I apologise for my behaviour Sir!”
Sir’s reply is curt and to the point
“What are the four words you must remember boy!”
Think, think, I can’t remember, I pause for a second,
“Respect, obedience, discipline and submission Sir.”
A day later, as I look back at my visit to the Headmaster's study, you might think it strange, but I can't wait for my next visit! Although painful (i've struggled to stay sitting down as i write this!) it's left me with a real high. Sir is a real Master. If you haven't yet been to see him, i'd suggest you do so as soon as you can.
The pictures of my beating are avaiable to view at my profile raden67 "the impertinent boy" album. thank you!