pakopjebroek
09-06-2015, 07:20 PM
Hi, my name's Lex and I attend a boarding school. I've just had my 15th birthday and I'm in my third year of the senior school. It's a very strict school with a uniform of corduroy shorts and long socks.
I want to tell you about a series of events in my life as a student in our boarding school.
First let me explain a bit of background about myself. I first enrolled at my school as a boarder at the age of 8. On the first day I put on my uniform something very strange happened to me. I fell in love with my school uniform! And to me the most important part of the uniform is the corduroy shorts. Their colour is a rich, deep blue. There's white lining on the inside, and a label saying "Glengarnock." The legs go to about an inch above my knees.
I have no idea why, but I got a strange feeling in my tummy when I first put these shorts on. It was as if these shorts had always belonged to me but I'd forgotten, and now they came back to me as part of me, like a skin. I loved the soft feel of them, and I would softly stroke the corduroy material with my hands. Something else happened, which I didn't take much notice of, but they made my willy stand up. I didn't know why.
On my first day at the school I saw all the other boys wearing the same blue corduroy school shorts, and it was as if I didn't have enough eyes to look at all those attractive shorts. I wanted to touch those bottoms that looked so inviting in those soft blue shorts with the elastic at the back, making the two buns stand out. I wanted to rub my face on those bottoms, and to put my hands between the legs of the shorts. But even at that young age I didn't do any of those things, because I realised my feelings were out of order.
When we were called inside we saw a very tall, strict and muscular looking teacher who didn't look as if he'd take any nonsense. We were all as quiet as mice and did exactly as we were told. On that day something happened which I will never forget. We were doing reading, and we had to continue reading from wherever we were up to when our name was called out. The teacher called out one boy's name. The boy just looked blank and was as silent as the grave. There was an icy silence as the teacher told the boy to come out to the front. The teacher pulled out his chair from under his desk and put it in the middle of the raised platform at the front. As the boy walked to the front I watched the seat of his shorts, wishing I could rub it.
When the boy reached the teacher, he pulled the boy across his lap so that his bottom was sticking up. While the boy was lying there, the teacher looked around the room to make sure everyone was watching.
"This is what happens to boys who don't pay attention," he said. He raised his hand high above the boy's shorts and brought it crashing down. It made a hollow, thudding sound. This was repeated about 30 times. The teacher then lifted the boy off his lap and told him to go and sit down.
The class was in a state of deep shock. No one dared to move a muscle and no one lost their place.
I too was deeply shocked. The sight of the teacher's hand colliding with those beautiful corduroy shorts kept coming back to me. I realised that my willie was standing up. I kept hoping it would happen again - but not to me.
That evening it was hard to sleep. I kept seeing those gorgeous shorts lying over the teacher's lap and the teacher's hand going up and down in a steady rhythm. Gradually a certainty developed in my mind. That was that there was nothing more beautiful and exciting to do to corduroy shorts than to spank them. Stroking them, rubbing them, putting your head against them was great, but nothing could equal a good hard spanking delivered over the teacher's lap. Deep into the night I saw the shorts lying there with the seat curved upwards and the teacher's hand going up and down, up and down, each time delivering a lovely thud.
When I woke up next morning the first thing I thought about was the spanking. I realised that I had a vague feeling of jealousy. When I became aware of this I quickly dismissed it, thinking with a shudder how embarrassing this would be, with all the boys watching. But as I watched the boy getting dressed in the dormitory, I saw him pull his shorts up, and I was thinking about good his shorts looked, and how wonderful it looked when his shorts were being spanked, and how much I'd like to know what it was like.
That day nothing happened, as everyone was too frightened to do anything. On the third day we had silent reading. The teacher was sitting in the middle of the platform, watching us to make sure we kept our eyes on the book and didn't speak. My mind was starting to wander off. Without me realising it my mouth was hanging open and I was half asleep. Suddenly a fat fly flew into my mouth. "Shit" I said, as I spat out the fly and woke up fully.
As soon as I'd said this I realised my mistake, and I saw the teacher grinning in satisfaction. "Come here", he whispered.
I didn't need to be told what to do. I walked over to his chair and lay down over his lap. As I lay there waiting for the spanking to begin I had a strong urge to pee. The teacher said, "This is what happens to boys who use foul language." I could feel my face burning with shame and embarrassment.
I felt him lifting up his hand and half a second later it crashed down on my shorts. Before I could think, it happened again, and again, and again... I don't know what I expected, but not this. There was quite a stinging sensation, but it didn't really feel painful. It was a very lovely sensation as if my corduroy shorts were coming to life and were hugging my bottom tightly in a steady rhythm, giving me a very warm feeling in my bottom. I forgot all about the other boys watching, and I concentrated on the steady sound of the smacks and the lovely feeling of my bottom getting warmer and warmer.
I'm sure I got a longer spanking than the first boy, but still it felt like it was too short. I stood up and walked back to my desk, feeling very proud and satisfied. As I walked I ran my hand over the seat of my shorts and I felt a very strong love for my wonderful corduroy shorts. "This is what these shorts need," I thought.
As I walked in the playground later that day I put my hands in my pocket and pulled my shorts up high, against my bottom. I could still feel a mild tinging there, and my willie was standing up. I sat down on a seat away from everyone, and started talking to my shorts.
"Thank you for that great spanking," I said. "You are absolutely beautiful and I love you. I want you to make sure you get spanked a lot more." I rubbed all over my shorts and made up my mind I really liked my teacher.
During the first few weeks with this teacher I realised that spanking was a very common occurrence in his class. By the end of the week most of the boys had made a trip over the teacher's knee. No one felt embarrassed any more, and most boys didn't even bother watching.
I got my second spanking the next week, and a day later I got another one. I became convinced the teacher was really enjoying himself when he was spanking. He had a grin on his face and he never got angry.
He seemed to have boys that he liked to spank more often than others. I was one of them. Perhaps he sensed that I wanted to be spanked. I was called out to the front about once a week. Each time I would walk out to the front with a wonderful anticipation, hoping it would last a long time. I'd quickly kiss the palm of my hand and then rub it against the seat of my shorts. It would give me a stiff willie when I thought that the teacher's hand would soon be where my hand was.
Sometimes it took longer than a week between spankings, and I would get a panicky feeling that the teacher didn't like me any more. I would do something to attract his attention, such as make a smart remark while he was talking. To my great relief he would grin and a few seconds later I'd be lying over his lap again, feeling that I was his favourite boy. I would savour the feeling of his hand "kissing" my corduroy bottom with firm, energetic smacks which gave me a delicious burning feeling. It would always give me an erection, and as soon as I got the opportunity I'd rush to the toilet to rub the lump in my shorts while reliving that fantastic spanking.
The years went on and I was constantly thinking how lucky I was to have such a beautiful school uniform, and such a wonderful teacher. I continued to be spanked about once a week, sometimes twice. Always I was thrilled to bits when the teacher told me to come to him. Sometimes he didn't use words, he would just gesture. Always I would lie there in anticipation, feeling I needed to pee badly. Always I would realise the teacher was enjoying this, and that would make me feel pleased and proud. Always I would feel conscious of my beautiful shorts and the feeling that the teacher was kissing them with his hand, just as I did each time. And always after the spanking I would thank my shorts and go to the toilet as soon as possible to rub the lump in my shorts. I discovered in my final year that if I rubbed hard and long enough, an indescribable feeling of pleasure would come, lasting a few seconds.
As the end of primary school came in sight I started to realise that I would have to go to the senior school and that would be the end of my wonderful spankings. On my last day of Junior School I got my last spanking. I hadn't done anything wrong - it was a goodbye spanking.
When I started in the senior school I missed my teacher and his spankings, but after a while I stopped thinking about it, and my longing for spankings went to the back of my mind. Fortunately my school made boys up to the age of 18 wear short trousers, so I still got excited most of the time by the corduroy shorts that the other boys and I wore.
Now I've turned 15 and I'm in my third year of senior school. Normally I'm an obedient and quiet student, but recently Mr Wilmott, my home group teacher, said something that started my subconscious mind working in a frenzy. One of the students in my class was mucking around and the teacher told him that if he went on like that the teacher would send him to the Headmaster for a sound spanking across his knee. Everyone laughed, and I did too, but I got a very peculiar feeling in my tummy. I was suddenly reminded of my primary school years.
Suddenly it all came back vividly: that exhilarating feeling of anticipation as you walked towards the teacher for your spanking, the feeling of his hand pressing against your backside to push you down over the teacher's knee, those exciting seconds as you lay there with a strong desire to pee, and then that glorious feeling of the teacher's hand spanking the seat of your corduroy shorts, accompanied by that thrilling sound.
When I heard the teacher's joke, I immediately got a hard erection. But then I realised it was just a joke. How stupid to think this could really happen. Boys of 15 aren't put over the knee and spanked! They get detentions.
And yet I couldn't let go of the idea. Like a fat worm this exciting thought ate its way through my subconscious mind, and repeatedly I would imagine myself lying over the Headmaster's lap while his hand danced energetically on my corduroy school shorts. I began to dream about it, and at every opportunity I would rub the lump on my shorts while fantasising about being spanked.
From then on things sort of developed automatically. My subconscious just took over. Before I knew what I was doing I was making the same smart alec remarks as the boy who'd been threatened with a spanking. That alone was enough to give me an erection.
After a few times the teacher got sick of me, and he told me that if I did it again I would be sent to the Headmaster for a spanking across the knee, like a junior school boy. I nearly wet myself with excitement when I heard that. I was now in a state of great excitement, and I was actually shaking. I waited a little while, but then I made another stupid remark when the teacher was talking to the class.
"Come here Lex!" he said. "Don't say I didn't warn you!"
He set the class some work and wrote a short note. I was standing there shaking with excitement and fear. How incredibly stupid of me to think I'd be spanked at my age. I would probably be punished in some horrible way. Yet I had a hard erection as my subconscious kept insisting I'd be spanked.
A few minutes later I was standing at the door of the Headmaster's office. The thought went through my head that I didn't have to knock, as the Headmaster would be able to hear my heart pounding. But still, I knocked, and with a deeply red face I handed over the note.
"Headmaster, my compliments. This boy is behaving like a 10 year old. I warned him, but he insisted on behaving in this childish manner. I request you to pull him over your knee, as I promised him, and give him a sound spanking. I hope this will help him remember how a 15 year old should behave."
The Headmaster chuckled. "Nice to have a colleague who knows how to treat naughty boys. What did you do?"
"Nothing Headmaster. I just assisted Mr Wilmott by making a few helpful remarks while he was explaining things."
"Yes, I can imagine," the Headmaster said with a grin. "Well well, young man, I really can't refuse this request, can I?"
"No Sir," I said, while my heart jumped out of my throat. For a moment I thought I would have a heart attack with excitement.
"Lock the door," he said.
I walked slowly towards the door, turned the lock and walked back. During these few seconds I thought I would explode with all the emotions going through me.
Just as if no time had passed I kissed my palm and rubbed it on the seat of my shorts.
The Headmaster had moved his chair back from the desk, and was looking at me with a grin. I stood there, gawking at him.
"What are you waiting for boy? Bend over my knee."
I moved forward and stood right next to him. He held out his hand and pressed it against my bottom. I bent over his lap and there I was, in the position I had looked forward to so much. As I lay there waiting for the spanking to start I got that familiar feeling that I badly needed to pee. The thought went through my head: "This is not happening. This is a dream. I shall wake up in a minute. Or maybe it's just a joke. He isn't going to give me a real spanking." But at the same time another thought crossed through the first, and said, "imprint this in your brain as a permanent memory. What is about to happen is the most exciting thing that's ever happened to you."
For a while nothing happened. Then I felt a warm hand stroking my bottom. "So, laddie, you probably thought this was a joke, didn't you? Well, believe me, schoolboys are never too old for a good old fashioned spanking."
I felt him lift up his hand and he brought it down again with great force. What followed then is indescribable. After all those years I was finally lying over the lap of a teacher again. He was giving me all his attention, and the feeling of his hand colliding with my bottom felt like the sweetest sensation I could imagine. At last I experienced that sharp, deliciously stinging sensation in my bottom again. At last I heard that thrilling sound of corduroy shorts being dusted again.
It went on and on. In primary school spankings only lasted for a couple of minutes, but now it went on much longer. Of course I thought this was wonderful and I was enjoying it tremendously.
After about ten minutes (I think) the spanking stopped. I wanted to get up, but his hand pinned me down. I felt his hand rubbing my bottom, the tops of my legs, and then moving downwards, my bare leg. It was an exciting feeling, and my erection remained rock hard.
At last I was allowed to get up. I saw the headmaster looking with fascination at my erection, which was most obvious in my shorts.
"So young man, how old are you now?"
"Fifteen, Headmaster."
"Good. So behave like a fifteen year old. I shall ask your teacher to keep me informed of your behavioural age. If your behaviour reverts to that of a 10 year old you'll be back here to have a good long spanking." He finally patted my bottom and moved his chair back to his desk. "Off you go, back to class."
As you will understand I didn't go back to class but to the toilet to relieve the erotic pressure and enjoy the lovely heat in my bottom some more.
And so things went back to the boring old routine. The only thing that had changed was that my heart gave a jump every time I saw the Headmaster, and one day when he looked in my direction I could swear I saw him wink.
When the other boys asked me what had happened in the Headmaster's office, I said, "Nothing. He just gave me a lecture." I realised I had had a special treat, and that I would have to be content with that.
But my subconscious soon started to get active again. Before I realised what I was doing I was making smart alec remarks in class again, and I felt my bottom tingling in anticipation. It was only a few weeks later and I was standing by the teacher's desk again while he was writing a note to the Headmaster. A few minutes later I was knocking on the Headmaster's door.
He took the note and read it in silence. As he was reading it I could see a subtle twinkle developing in his eyes. "So young man, your teacher says you haven't learned your lesson from last time, and asks me to give you a real punishment this time that you'll never forget. This I will do gladly. Lock the door and come here."
I did so and stood next to him. With a gleeful grin he put his hand against my bottom and pushed me over his lap. There I was again, not believing my good luck, my heart pounding with joy and anticipation. Once again I had a strong urge to pee, and I wished I'd gone to the toilet on the way here. I felt his hand caressing the seat of my corduroy shorts. He was clearly enjoying the anticipation very much, and I could almost hear him purring like a contented cat. His hand moved down to my legs and between my legs. The urge to pee momentarily became too much for me, and I felt a squirt running into my corduroy shorts.
At last the spanking began. I jerked at the first smack, and involuntarily cried, "Ow." He was obviously doing it very hard, as he'd promised, and I had a similar sensation as when you jump into a pool of cold water. First contact is rather violent, but after that you feel wonderful. I just couldn't believe the happy feeling in my chest as the sizzling smacks rained down on my shorts, fast and hard. The Headmaster was not joking when he said I would get a real spanking. He was obviously spanking twice as hard and twice as fast as the first time. I was in a state of bliss as my ears drank in the exhilarating sound and my bottom soaked up the glorious burning heat.
"Thank you, God," I thought, for giving me this wonderful Headmaster. "I am lying over his knee like a junior boy and I'm getting spanked on my lovely corduroy shorts! Yippee! He is bringing his hand down on the seat of my shorts and every time it happens I feel bliss! I am going to keep these shorts as a souvenir of this wonderful occasion for the rest of my life as a reminder of how good it feels to get spanked! Yes, to get spanked! I am so lucky today!"
I listened to the sharp sound of a hand colliding with corduroy school shorts. I thought my heart was about to burst with excitement and joy, and I thought to myself, "This joy I feel is too much for a human being. There isn't enough space in my brain to process this extreme pleasure."
The spanking lasted at least twice as long as last time. I began to realise the Headmaster was a very strong and fit man. He was obviously enjoying himself tremendously, as he stopped every now and then for a few seconds to caress my corduroy shorts. This made me feel even more excited, if that was possible. "He likes doing this," I thought. "He likes me and he enjoys spanking the seat of my gorgeous corduroy shorts. Maybe he will do it again if I can act the right way. I must try to come back here as often as possible."
At last he stopped. I knew I should remain there, and I felt his hand caressing my shorts again. This time he also slid the side of his hand between my cheeks, and it slowly wandered down to the hem of my shorts. He softly stroked my bare leg, and then I felt his hand slide up my leg again, pushing the leg of my shorts up.
After about 5 minutes or so he told me to stand up. He put his hand behind my bottom to keep me standing there, and looked at the front of my shorts. My tent pole was sticking out very obviously, but to my embarrassment there was quite a sizable wet patch. His hand briefly touched the wet patch, and I got the feeling he would have liked to keep it there longer.
Finally he spoke with a cracked voice and told me he would keep in touch with my class teacher.
"Thank you Headmaster. I know I deserved that and needed it," I said. He smiled at me and said, with a wink, that the pleasure was all his.
With a red face, a pounding heart, a gloriously burning bottom and a very hard erection I ran to the toilet, to relieve myself in two ways.
As you can guess, the urge for a repetition soon started to make its presence felt. To make a long story short, It wasn't many weeks before I was presenting another note from my teacher to the Headmaster.
He read it out aloud. "Headmaster, my compliments. This is the third time I'm sending Lex to you. His behaviour has become intolerable and nothing seems to work. I'm afraid I shall have to refuse to teach him any further. I recommend expulsion."
A shock of fear and anguish went through me. The very last thing I wanted was expulsion. I was happy at this school. My marks were very good and I had been looking forward to another spanking from the Headmaster. In the few seconds it took to take this in I saw my parents' faces when they heard about it.
"You see, you've really upset Mr Wilmott. I have to take his complaint seriously."
I felt as if I would like to sink into the ground and disappear completely. I tried to speak, and a very strange stuttering sound came out.
"I .. I .. 'm ssorry, Sir. I .. I didn't mean to upset Mr Wilmott. I don't want to be expelled, Sir. I .. I'll do anything you say, Sir. I'll apologise to Mr Wilmott Sir."
"You do realise, Lex, that if I expel you, your future is ruined? No one wants to take a boy who's been expelled, and so you won't be able to get to University and take up a profession."
"Yes Sir," I whispered, tears starting to well up.
"Sir, is there anything I can do? I'll do everything you say, Sir. Shall I apologise to Mr Wilmott? I'll take any punishment You give me, Sir." Here a faint spasm went through my dick.
"Well, Lex, I must say your behaviour has been excellent in the past, and your marks are very satisfactory. Perhaps there is a way we can get out of this mess you're in. I assume you don't want your parents to know about this?"
"No Sir!" I almost shouted.
"No, I thought not. You know the word 'discretion', Lex?"
"Yes Sir. It means you don't shout things from the rooftops."
"Excellent Lex . So if I make a suggestion for a solution to your problem, do you think you could you could be completely discreet about it? If you start telling everyone about this some parent is going to hear about this and accuse me of favouritism, or being too lenient. This school has a reputation of very tight discipline and high standards of behaviour. You know that, don't you?"
"Yes, Sir. I promise I won't breathe a word of it to anyone, Sir. Least of all my parents Sir."
"However you do realise you need to be punished, don't you?" I was looking straight into his eyes, and for a second I felt a very strong intuitive feeling that he was thinking about our previous two sessions together." Once again I felt a twinge in my dick. This gave me an idea.
"Sir, I'll be prepared to take whatever punishment you give me Sir. I'm prepared to come to you for the rest of the year to talk about my behaviour Sir. You can do whatever you like to me, Sir." I was thinking about his enjoyment at caressing my shorts. "And I'll do you any favour you like, Sir."
"Right. Now come here and stand next to me, Lex. This is what I've decided. So listen very carefully and don't miss a word I'm saying."
His hand was against my bottom. This made me feel more relaxed and hopeful.
"This time I'm not going to expel you. But you'll need to apologise to Mr Wilmott in front of the class. You will also write out a promise not to disturb Mr Wilmott's lessons for the rest of the year. It will be signed by you and countersigned by me. I think that will satisfy Mr Wilmott.
Furthermore I will punish you now to teach you how to behave like a 15 year old, and I will give you detention once a week, where I will discuss your past week's behaviour with you. You will be discreet about what happens here.
Are you prepared to accept these conditions?"
I was hit by such a powerful feeling of relief, such a mind blowing surge of hope and joy, that I couldn't speak. I felt tears of joy welling up, and my main desire was to hug the Headmaster and cry hard and loud. But I seemed to lose control of my body then. To my great shock and horror I felt the inside of my shorts getting very warm and before I knew it pee was running down my legs into my school socks. I looked down at my shorts and saw a wet patch developing on the front. To my great embarrassment I felt unable to stop and the pee just came and came, completely wetting my shorts and socks. The whole sudden rush of different emotions became too much for me, and before I knew it I was blubbering away like a ten year old.
I thought the Headmaster would get very angry and order me to get out and never come back, but he looked at my wet shorts with big eyes.
He pressed his hand against my bottom and pulled me close. He placed his hand on my wet shorts and rubbed gently on my crotch and cupped his hand around my limp dick. He held it there for what seemed like a long time.
"I'm afraid you're rather wet, Lex. A little accident. Can happen to anyone. Never mind. I'll get you some dry shorts."
He rubbed the front of my shorts and my wet knees. "Don't worry about this, Lex . Often happens in situations like this. I'll clean up the floor later. We need to finish our discussion first."
"Yes Sir," I said, as I was gradually calming down. I found the Headmaster's tone very soothing, and the warm, wet feeling in my shorts was actually rather pleasant.
"I agree with what you said, Sir. I agree 100% and I'll write the promise straight away, Sir. And I'll take my punishment and I'll be happy to come once a week to talk about my behaviour, Sir, and you can punish me as much as you like, Sir. I need it, Sir, and I'm really grateful for this opportunity Sir."
"Excellent, Lex. Well, let's start today's dose of medicine right now."
He pressed his hand against my bottom and pushed me over his lap. I lay down with a super blissful feeling of relief, excitement and exhilaration. As I lay there in a state of utter joy, I heard the Headmaster say, "Don't ever let it worry you if you wet your shorts before or during spankings, Lex. It's quite normal for young boys when they're being punished. Promise not to let it worry you?"
"Yes Sir."
Meanwhile I felt his hand caressing my bottom, between my cheeks, and between my legs, giving me a very hard erection.
The spanking I received was unprecedented. It's impossible to describe the heavenly feeling of the smacks on my bottom, the exciting sound, and the mind blasting realisation that I was lying over the lap of a man who liked me, who liked spanking me, who was going to do it again and again, and who was virtually inviting me to pee in my shorts during spankings. Once again I lost control and the tears of joy flowed freely. I even felt some more pee running into my shorts.
When, after a long time, the spanking was over, the Headmaster made me sit on his lap. He got out a handkerchief and wiped my eyes with it. He told me he thought I was a really nice boy, and he would help me become a top student. I should come to his private room every Saturday evening, and I should bring some spare shorts in case I had a little accident. I felt him rubbing my wet lap as he said it.
"I shall give you some dry shorts. I shall have to get some dry trousers out of the cupboard too, I'm afraid. I'll dry your shorts and undies and give them to Matron later. This is nothing to worry about and no one is going to find out.
I got off his lap and stood up. He told me to stand on a little stool. He started rubbing his hands all over my wet shorts, my knees and my socks. My erection became very noticeable as it stood up like a tent pole. He grabbed it between his thumb and fingers and began to rub up and down. I began to get mad with excitement and pleasure, and before I knew it I was having an orgasm and squirting into my wet shorts.
"Thank you Sir. I shall come to you on Saturday and take my punishment like a man, Sir," I said, grinning.
He went over to one of his cupboards and took out a dry pair of school shorts. I took off my wet shorts and underpants, which I put into a plastic big he was holding. I put on the dry shorts, which were a size too big.
You're to go to your dormitory and write out the promise to Mr Wilmott. Bring it to me when it's finished. Tomorrow I will come to your class to hear you apologise to Mr Wilmott and the whole class."
As I lay in bed that evening I cried again, thinking about the wonderful times I was going to have during the "detentions" with the Headmaster. Time couldn't pass quickly enough till Saturday!
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I want to tell you about a series of events in my life as a student in our boarding school.
First let me explain a bit of background about myself. I first enrolled at my school as a boarder at the age of 8. On the first day I put on my uniform something very strange happened to me. I fell in love with my school uniform! And to me the most important part of the uniform is the corduroy shorts. Their colour is a rich, deep blue. There's white lining on the inside, and a label saying "Glengarnock." The legs go to about an inch above my knees.
I have no idea why, but I got a strange feeling in my tummy when I first put these shorts on. It was as if these shorts had always belonged to me but I'd forgotten, and now they came back to me as part of me, like a skin. I loved the soft feel of them, and I would softly stroke the corduroy material with my hands. Something else happened, which I didn't take much notice of, but they made my willy stand up. I didn't know why.
On my first day at the school I saw all the other boys wearing the same blue corduroy school shorts, and it was as if I didn't have enough eyes to look at all those attractive shorts. I wanted to touch those bottoms that looked so inviting in those soft blue shorts with the elastic at the back, making the two buns stand out. I wanted to rub my face on those bottoms, and to put my hands between the legs of the shorts. But even at that young age I didn't do any of those things, because I realised my feelings were out of order.
When we were called inside we saw a very tall, strict and muscular looking teacher who didn't look as if he'd take any nonsense. We were all as quiet as mice and did exactly as we were told. On that day something happened which I will never forget. We were doing reading, and we had to continue reading from wherever we were up to when our name was called out. The teacher called out one boy's name. The boy just looked blank and was as silent as the grave. There was an icy silence as the teacher told the boy to come out to the front. The teacher pulled out his chair from under his desk and put it in the middle of the raised platform at the front. As the boy walked to the front I watched the seat of his shorts, wishing I could rub it.
When the boy reached the teacher, he pulled the boy across his lap so that his bottom was sticking up. While the boy was lying there, the teacher looked around the room to make sure everyone was watching.
"This is what happens to boys who don't pay attention," he said. He raised his hand high above the boy's shorts and brought it crashing down. It made a hollow, thudding sound. This was repeated about 30 times. The teacher then lifted the boy off his lap and told him to go and sit down.
The class was in a state of deep shock. No one dared to move a muscle and no one lost their place.
I too was deeply shocked. The sight of the teacher's hand colliding with those beautiful corduroy shorts kept coming back to me. I realised that my willie was standing up. I kept hoping it would happen again - but not to me.
That evening it was hard to sleep. I kept seeing those gorgeous shorts lying over the teacher's lap and the teacher's hand going up and down in a steady rhythm. Gradually a certainty developed in my mind. That was that there was nothing more beautiful and exciting to do to corduroy shorts than to spank them. Stroking them, rubbing them, putting your head against them was great, but nothing could equal a good hard spanking delivered over the teacher's lap. Deep into the night I saw the shorts lying there with the seat curved upwards and the teacher's hand going up and down, up and down, each time delivering a lovely thud.
When I woke up next morning the first thing I thought about was the spanking. I realised that I had a vague feeling of jealousy. When I became aware of this I quickly dismissed it, thinking with a shudder how embarrassing this would be, with all the boys watching. But as I watched the boy getting dressed in the dormitory, I saw him pull his shorts up, and I was thinking about good his shorts looked, and how wonderful it looked when his shorts were being spanked, and how much I'd like to know what it was like.
That day nothing happened, as everyone was too frightened to do anything. On the third day we had silent reading. The teacher was sitting in the middle of the platform, watching us to make sure we kept our eyes on the book and didn't speak. My mind was starting to wander off. Without me realising it my mouth was hanging open and I was half asleep. Suddenly a fat fly flew into my mouth. "Shit" I said, as I spat out the fly and woke up fully.
As soon as I'd said this I realised my mistake, and I saw the teacher grinning in satisfaction. "Come here", he whispered.
I didn't need to be told what to do. I walked over to his chair and lay down over his lap. As I lay there waiting for the spanking to begin I had a strong urge to pee. The teacher said, "This is what happens to boys who use foul language." I could feel my face burning with shame and embarrassment.
I felt him lifting up his hand and half a second later it crashed down on my shorts. Before I could think, it happened again, and again, and again... I don't know what I expected, but not this. There was quite a stinging sensation, but it didn't really feel painful. It was a very lovely sensation as if my corduroy shorts were coming to life and were hugging my bottom tightly in a steady rhythm, giving me a very warm feeling in my bottom. I forgot all about the other boys watching, and I concentrated on the steady sound of the smacks and the lovely feeling of my bottom getting warmer and warmer.
I'm sure I got a longer spanking than the first boy, but still it felt like it was too short. I stood up and walked back to my desk, feeling very proud and satisfied. As I walked I ran my hand over the seat of my shorts and I felt a very strong love for my wonderful corduroy shorts. "This is what these shorts need," I thought.
As I walked in the playground later that day I put my hands in my pocket and pulled my shorts up high, against my bottom. I could still feel a mild tinging there, and my willie was standing up. I sat down on a seat away from everyone, and started talking to my shorts.
"Thank you for that great spanking," I said. "You are absolutely beautiful and I love you. I want you to make sure you get spanked a lot more." I rubbed all over my shorts and made up my mind I really liked my teacher.
During the first few weeks with this teacher I realised that spanking was a very common occurrence in his class. By the end of the week most of the boys had made a trip over the teacher's knee. No one felt embarrassed any more, and most boys didn't even bother watching.
I got my second spanking the next week, and a day later I got another one. I became convinced the teacher was really enjoying himself when he was spanking. He had a grin on his face and he never got angry.
He seemed to have boys that he liked to spank more often than others. I was one of them. Perhaps he sensed that I wanted to be spanked. I was called out to the front about once a week. Each time I would walk out to the front with a wonderful anticipation, hoping it would last a long time. I'd quickly kiss the palm of my hand and then rub it against the seat of my shorts. It would give me a stiff willie when I thought that the teacher's hand would soon be where my hand was.
Sometimes it took longer than a week between spankings, and I would get a panicky feeling that the teacher didn't like me any more. I would do something to attract his attention, such as make a smart remark while he was talking. To my great relief he would grin and a few seconds later I'd be lying over his lap again, feeling that I was his favourite boy. I would savour the feeling of his hand "kissing" my corduroy bottom with firm, energetic smacks which gave me a delicious burning feeling. It would always give me an erection, and as soon as I got the opportunity I'd rush to the toilet to rub the lump in my shorts while reliving that fantastic spanking.
The years went on and I was constantly thinking how lucky I was to have such a beautiful school uniform, and such a wonderful teacher. I continued to be spanked about once a week, sometimes twice. Always I was thrilled to bits when the teacher told me to come to him. Sometimes he didn't use words, he would just gesture. Always I would lie there in anticipation, feeling I needed to pee badly. Always I would realise the teacher was enjoying this, and that would make me feel pleased and proud. Always I would feel conscious of my beautiful shorts and the feeling that the teacher was kissing them with his hand, just as I did each time. And always after the spanking I would thank my shorts and go to the toilet as soon as possible to rub the lump in my shorts. I discovered in my final year that if I rubbed hard and long enough, an indescribable feeling of pleasure would come, lasting a few seconds.
As the end of primary school came in sight I started to realise that I would have to go to the senior school and that would be the end of my wonderful spankings. On my last day of Junior School I got my last spanking. I hadn't done anything wrong - it was a goodbye spanking.
When I started in the senior school I missed my teacher and his spankings, but after a while I stopped thinking about it, and my longing for spankings went to the back of my mind. Fortunately my school made boys up to the age of 18 wear short trousers, so I still got excited most of the time by the corduroy shorts that the other boys and I wore.
Now I've turned 15 and I'm in my third year of senior school. Normally I'm an obedient and quiet student, but recently Mr Wilmott, my home group teacher, said something that started my subconscious mind working in a frenzy. One of the students in my class was mucking around and the teacher told him that if he went on like that the teacher would send him to the Headmaster for a sound spanking across his knee. Everyone laughed, and I did too, but I got a very peculiar feeling in my tummy. I was suddenly reminded of my primary school years.
Suddenly it all came back vividly: that exhilarating feeling of anticipation as you walked towards the teacher for your spanking, the feeling of his hand pressing against your backside to push you down over the teacher's knee, those exciting seconds as you lay there with a strong desire to pee, and then that glorious feeling of the teacher's hand spanking the seat of your corduroy shorts, accompanied by that thrilling sound.
When I heard the teacher's joke, I immediately got a hard erection. But then I realised it was just a joke. How stupid to think this could really happen. Boys of 15 aren't put over the knee and spanked! They get detentions.
And yet I couldn't let go of the idea. Like a fat worm this exciting thought ate its way through my subconscious mind, and repeatedly I would imagine myself lying over the Headmaster's lap while his hand danced energetically on my corduroy school shorts. I began to dream about it, and at every opportunity I would rub the lump on my shorts while fantasising about being spanked.
From then on things sort of developed automatically. My subconscious just took over. Before I knew what I was doing I was making the same smart alec remarks as the boy who'd been threatened with a spanking. That alone was enough to give me an erection.
After a few times the teacher got sick of me, and he told me that if I did it again I would be sent to the Headmaster for a spanking across the knee, like a junior school boy. I nearly wet myself with excitement when I heard that. I was now in a state of great excitement, and I was actually shaking. I waited a little while, but then I made another stupid remark when the teacher was talking to the class.
"Come here Lex!" he said. "Don't say I didn't warn you!"
He set the class some work and wrote a short note. I was standing there shaking with excitement and fear. How incredibly stupid of me to think I'd be spanked at my age. I would probably be punished in some horrible way. Yet I had a hard erection as my subconscious kept insisting I'd be spanked.
A few minutes later I was standing at the door of the Headmaster's office. The thought went through my head that I didn't have to knock, as the Headmaster would be able to hear my heart pounding. But still, I knocked, and with a deeply red face I handed over the note.
"Headmaster, my compliments. This boy is behaving like a 10 year old. I warned him, but he insisted on behaving in this childish manner. I request you to pull him over your knee, as I promised him, and give him a sound spanking. I hope this will help him remember how a 15 year old should behave."
The Headmaster chuckled. "Nice to have a colleague who knows how to treat naughty boys. What did you do?"
"Nothing Headmaster. I just assisted Mr Wilmott by making a few helpful remarks while he was explaining things."
"Yes, I can imagine," the Headmaster said with a grin. "Well well, young man, I really can't refuse this request, can I?"
"No Sir," I said, while my heart jumped out of my throat. For a moment I thought I would have a heart attack with excitement.
"Lock the door," he said.
I walked slowly towards the door, turned the lock and walked back. During these few seconds I thought I would explode with all the emotions going through me.
Just as if no time had passed I kissed my palm and rubbed it on the seat of my shorts.
The Headmaster had moved his chair back from the desk, and was looking at me with a grin. I stood there, gawking at him.
"What are you waiting for boy? Bend over my knee."
I moved forward and stood right next to him. He held out his hand and pressed it against my bottom. I bent over his lap and there I was, in the position I had looked forward to so much. As I lay there waiting for the spanking to start I got that familiar feeling that I badly needed to pee. The thought went through my head: "This is not happening. This is a dream. I shall wake up in a minute. Or maybe it's just a joke. He isn't going to give me a real spanking." But at the same time another thought crossed through the first, and said, "imprint this in your brain as a permanent memory. What is about to happen is the most exciting thing that's ever happened to you."
For a while nothing happened. Then I felt a warm hand stroking my bottom. "So, laddie, you probably thought this was a joke, didn't you? Well, believe me, schoolboys are never too old for a good old fashioned spanking."
I felt him lift up his hand and he brought it down again with great force. What followed then is indescribable. After all those years I was finally lying over the lap of a teacher again. He was giving me all his attention, and the feeling of his hand colliding with my bottom felt like the sweetest sensation I could imagine. At last I experienced that sharp, deliciously stinging sensation in my bottom again. At last I heard that thrilling sound of corduroy shorts being dusted again.
It went on and on. In primary school spankings only lasted for a couple of minutes, but now it went on much longer. Of course I thought this was wonderful and I was enjoying it tremendously.
After about ten minutes (I think) the spanking stopped. I wanted to get up, but his hand pinned me down. I felt his hand rubbing my bottom, the tops of my legs, and then moving downwards, my bare leg. It was an exciting feeling, and my erection remained rock hard.
At last I was allowed to get up. I saw the headmaster looking with fascination at my erection, which was most obvious in my shorts.
"So young man, how old are you now?"
"Fifteen, Headmaster."
"Good. So behave like a fifteen year old. I shall ask your teacher to keep me informed of your behavioural age. If your behaviour reverts to that of a 10 year old you'll be back here to have a good long spanking." He finally patted my bottom and moved his chair back to his desk. "Off you go, back to class."
As you will understand I didn't go back to class but to the toilet to relieve the erotic pressure and enjoy the lovely heat in my bottom some more.
And so things went back to the boring old routine. The only thing that had changed was that my heart gave a jump every time I saw the Headmaster, and one day when he looked in my direction I could swear I saw him wink.
When the other boys asked me what had happened in the Headmaster's office, I said, "Nothing. He just gave me a lecture." I realised I had had a special treat, and that I would have to be content with that.
But my subconscious soon started to get active again. Before I realised what I was doing I was making smart alec remarks in class again, and I felt my bottom tingling in anticipation. It was only a few weeks later and I was standing by the teacher's desk again while he was writing a note to the Headmaster. A few minutes later I was knocking on the Headmaster's door.
He took the note and read it in silence. As he was reading it I could see a subtle twinkle developing in his eyes. "So young man, your teacher says you haven't learned your lesson from last time, and asks me to give you a real punishment this time that you'll never forget. This I will do gladly. Lock the door and come here."
I did so and stood next to him. With a gleeful grin he put his hand against my bottom and pushed me over his lap. There I was again, not believing my good luck, my heart pounding with joy and anticipation. Once again I had a strong urge to pee, and I wished I'd gone to the toilet on the way here. I felt his hand caressing the seat of my corduroy shorts. He was clearly enjoying the anticipation very much, and I could almost hear him purring like a contented cat. His hand moved down to my legs and between my legs. The urge to pee momentarily became too much for me, and I felt a squirt running into my corduroy shorts.
At last the spanking began. I jerked at the first smack, and involuntarily cried, "Ow." He was obviously doing it very hard, as he'd promised, and I had a similar sensation as when you jump into a pool of cold water. First contact is rather violent, but after that you feel wonderful. I just couldn't believe the happy feeling in my chest as the sizzling smacks rained down on my shorts, fast and hard. The Headmaster was not joking when he said I would get a real spanking. He was obviously spanking twice as hard and twice as fast as the first time. I was in a state of bliss as my ears drank in the exhilarating sound and my bottom soaked up the glorious burning heat.
"Thank you, God," I thought, for giving me this wonderful Headmaster. "I am lying over his knee like a junior boy and I'm getting spanked on my lovely corduroy shorts! Yippee! He is bringing his hand down on the seat of my shorts and every time it happens I feel bliss! I am going to keep these shorts as a souvenir of this wonderful occasion for the rest of my life as a reminder of how good it feels to get spanked! Yes, to get spanked! I am so lucky today!"
I listened to the sharp sound of a hand colliding with corduroy school shorts. I thought my heart was about to burst with excitement and joy, and I thought to myself, "This joy I feel is too much for a human being. There isn't enough space in my brain to process this extreme pleasure."
The spanking lasted at least twice as long as last time. I began to realise the Headmaster was a very strong and fit man. He was obviously enjoying himself tremendously, as he stopped every now and then for a few seconds to caress my corduroy shorts. This made me feel even more excited, if that was possible. "He likes doing this," I thought. "He likes me and he enjoys spanking the seat of my gorgeous corduroy shorts. Maybe he will do it again if I can act the right way. I must try to come back here as often as possible."
At last he stopped. I knew I should remain there, and I felt his hand caressing my shorts again. This time he also slid the side of his hand between my cheeks, and it slowly wandered down to the hem of my shorts. He softly stroked my bare leg, and then I felt his hand slide up my leg again, pushing the leg of my shorts up.
After about 5 minutes or so he told me to stand up. He put his hand behind my bottom to keep me standing there, and looked at the front of my shorts. My tent pole was sticking out very obviously, but to my embarrassment there was quite a sizable wet patch. His hand briefly touched the wet patch, and I got the feeling he would have liked to keep it there longer.
Finally he spoke with a cracked voice and told me he would keep in touch with my class teacher.
"Thank you Headmaster. I know I deserved that and needed it," I said. He smiled at me and said, with a wink, that the pleasure was all his.
With a red face, a pounding heart, a gloriously burning bottom and a very hard erection I ran to the toilet, to relieve myself in two ways.
As you can guess, the urge for a repetition soon started to make its presence felt. To make a long story short, It wasn't many weeks before I was presenting another note from my teacher to the Headmaster.
He read it out aloud. "Headmaster, my compliments. This is the third time I'm sending Lex to you. His behaviour has become intolerable and nothing seems to work. I'm afraid I shall have to refuse to teach him any further. I recommend expulsion."
A shock of fear and anguish went through me. The very last thing I wanted was expulsion. I was happy at this school. My marks were very good and I had been looking forward to another spanking from the Headmaster. In the few seconds it took to take this in I saw my parents' faces when they heard about it.
"You see, you've really upset Mr Wilmott. I have to take his complaint seriously."
I felt as if I would like to sink into the ground and disappear completely. I tried to speak, and a very strange stuttering sound came out.
"I .. I .. 'm ssorry, Sir. I .. I didn't mean to upset Mr Wilmott. I don't want to be expelled, Sir. I .. I'll do anything you say, Sir. I'll apologise to Mr Wilmott Sir."
"You do realise, Lex, that if I expel you, your future is ruined? No one wants to take a boy who's been expelled, and so you won't be able to get to University and take up a profession."
"Yes Sir," I whispered, tears starting to well up.
"Sir, is there anything I can do? I'll do everything you say, Sir. Shall I apologise to Mr Wilmott? I'll take any punishment You give me, Sir." Here a faint spasm went through my dick.
"Well, Lex, I must say your behaviour has been excellent in the past, and your marks are very satisfactory. Perhaps there is a way we can get out of this mess you're in. I assume you don't want your parents to know about this?"
"No Sir!" I almost shouted.
"No, I thought not. You know the word 'discretion', Lex?"
"Yes Sir. It means you don't shout things from the rooftops."
"Excellent Lex . So if I make a suggestion for a solution to your problem, do you think you could you could be completely discreet about it? If you start telling everyone about this some parent is going to hear about this and accuse me of favouritism, or being too lenient. This school has a reputation of very tight discipline and high standards of behaviour. You know that, don't you?"
"Yes, Sir. I promise I won't breathe a word of it to anyone, Sir. Least of all my parents Sir."
"However you do realise you need to be punished, don't you?" I was looking straight into his eyes, and for a second I felt a very strong intuitive feeling that he was thinking about our previous two sessions together." Once again I felt a twinge in my dick. This gave me an idea.
"Sir, I'll be prepared to take whatever punishment you give me Sir. I'm prepared to come to you for the rest of the year to talk about my behaviour Sir. You can do whatever you like to me, Sir." I was thinking about his enjoyment at caressing my shorts. "And I'll do you any favour you like, Sir."
"Right. Now come here and stand next to me, Lex. This is what I've decided. So listen very carefully and don't miss a word I'm saying."
His hand was against my bottom. This made me feel more relaxed and hopeful.
"This time I'm not going to expel you. But you'll need to apologise to Mr Wilmott in front of the class. You will also write out a promise not to disturb Mr Wilmott's lessons for the rest of the year. It will be signed by you and countersigned by me. I think that will satisfy Mr Wilmott.
Furthermore I will punish you now to teach you how to behave like a 15 year old, and I will give you detention once a week, where I will discuss your past week's behaviour with you. You will be discreet about what happens here.
Are you prepared to accept these conditions?"
I was hit by such a powerful feeling of relief, such a mind blowing surge of hope and joy, that I couldn't speak. I felt tears of joy welling up, and my main desire was to hug the Headmaster and cry hard and loud. But I seemed to lose control of my body then. To my great shock and horror I felt the inside of my shorts getting very warm and before I knew it pee was running down my legs into my school socks. I looked down at my shorts and saw a wet patch developing on the front. To my great embarrassment I felt unable to stop and the pee just came and came, completely wetting my shorts and socks. The whole sudden rush of different emotions became too much for me, and before I knew it I was blubbering away like a ten year old.
I thought the Headmaster would get very angry and order me to get out and never come back, but he looked at my wet shorts with big eyes.
He pressed his hand against my bottom and pulled me close. He placed his hand on my wet shorts and rubbed gently on my crotch and cupped his hand around my limp dick. He held it there for what seemed like a long time.
"I'm afraid you're rather wet, Lex. A little accident. Can happen to anyone. Never mind. I'll get you some dry shorts."
He rubbed the front of my shorts and my wet knees. "Don't worry about this, Lex . Often happens in situations like this. I'll clean up the floor later. We need to finish our discussion first."
"Yes Sir," I said, as I was gradually calming down. I found the Headmaster's tone very soothing, and the warm, wet feeling in my shorts was actually rather pleasant.
"I agree with what you said, Sir. I agree 100% and I'll write the promise straight away, Sir. And I'll take my punishment and I'll be happy to come once a week to talk about my behaviour, Sir, and you can punish me as much as you like, Sir. I need it, Sir, and I'm really grateful for this opportunity Sir."
"Excellent, Lex. Well, let's start today's dose of medicine right now."
He pressed his hand against my bottom and pushed me over his lap. I lay down with a super blissful feeling of relief, excitement and exhilaration. As I lay there in a state of utter joy, I heard the Headmaster say, "Don't ever let it worry you if you wet your shorts before or during spankings, Lex. It's quite normal for young boys when they're being punished. Promise not to let it worry you?"
"Yes Sir."
Meanwhile I felt his hand caressing my bottom, between my cheeks, and between my legs, giving me a very hard erection.
The spanking I received was unprecedented. It's impossible to describe the heavenly feeling of the smacks on my bottom, the exciting sound, and the mind blasting realisation that I was lying over the lap of a man who liked me, who liked spanking me, who was going to do it again and again, and who was virtually inviting me to pee in my shorts during spankings. Once again I lost control and the tears of joy flowed freely. I even felt some more pee running into my shorts.
When, after a long time, the spanking was over, the Headmaster made me sit on his lap. He got out a handkerchief and wiped my eyes with it. He told me he thought I was a really nice boy, and he would help me become a top student. I should come to his private room every Saturday evening, and I should bring some spare shorts in case I had a little accident. I felt him rubbing my wet lap as he said it.
"I shall give you some dry shorts. I shall have to get some dry trousers out of the cupboard too, I'm afraid. I'll dry your shorts and undies and give them to Matron later. This is nothing to worry about and no one is going to find out.
I got off his lap and stood up. He told me to stand on a little stool. He started rubbing his hands all over my wet shorts, my knees and my socks. My erection became very noticeable as it stood up like a tent pole. He grabbed it between his thumb and fingers and began to rub up and down. I began to get mad with excitement and pleasure, and before I knew it I was having an orgasm and squirting into my wet shorts.
"Thank you Sir. I shall come to you on Saturday and take my punishment like a man, Sir," I said, grinning.
He went over to one of his cupboards and took out a dry pair of school shorts. I took off my wet shorts and underpants, which I put into a plastic big he was holding. I put on the dry shorts, which were a size too big.
You're to go to your dormitory and write out the promise to Mr Wilmott. Bring it to me when it's finished. Tomorrow I will come to your class to hear you apologise to Mr Wilmott and the whole class."
As I lay in bed that evening I cried again, thinking about the wonderful times I was going to have during the "detentions" with the Headmaster. Time couldn't pass quickly enough till Saturday!
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