Sunday, 5 February 2012

Toby and the strap

Story from Roue 07.

Toby and the strap

The only sound to be heard in the classroom was the droning voice of the headmaster. He was addressing the class on the subject of their forthcoming examinations and his remarks did not offer much hope of success for the majority of the students. Although they appeared to be paying attention to their mentor, few of them were not bored or daydreaming about their more interesting after-school activities. Although the headmaster made no sign that he was aware of the stony ground on which his exhortations were falling, he must have known that the score or so of sixteen year olds in front of him were more interested in football than they were in poetry.

Nevertheless, he persevered. He had a strong sense of duty and was determined to carry out his responsibilities to the full. He was also a strong disciplinarian and believed that he could achieve as much with the rod as he could with words. Of late he felt that he had been failing with both. He made a mental note to increase the quota of punishment in the future.

The form master, who stood by his side, was equally disenchanted with his pupils, but being of a cynical disposition, did not care about their scholastic achievement. The fact was that the form master was not a very good teacher. Neither was the school a very good one.

A private day school which tried to model itself on the lines of the famous Public Schools, it only attracted the kind of boys whose parents didn't want them to go to a comprehensive but who were incapable of passing the entrance exams to a better school.

Toby Matthews was just such a boy. Though not unintelligent, he lacked diligence. With more application he could have risen to a respectable place in the class instead of being permantly stuck on the lower rungs. He longed to leave school and the boring old process of learning a lot of old rubbish. He was in constant conflict with his parents on this topic and one of the consequences was his increasingly unruly behaviour, for which he was punished at home as well as at school.

These punishments seemed to make no difference, either to the quality of his work, or his conduct. In fact, he was quite proud of his justified notoriety as the most frequently punished boy in the school.

He was equally proud of his prowess at swimming and football, and it was these skills, plus his stoical acceptance of his beatings, that endeared him to staff and fellow pupils alike. Otherwise he would have been unbearable. As it was, most people regarded him as a cheeky rascal.

As he sat in the class, listening to headmaster's interminable lecture, he tried not to think of what the near future held for him. He knew that he was for it again. In a very few moments the headmaster would come to the end of his remarks, and the very last words he would speak would be the announcement of Toby's forthcoming punishment.

The procedure was always the same. The headmaster would address the class of the offender. The boy would be called to the front of the class while the headmaster outlined the reason for, and the amount of, the punishment. He also delivered a little homily on the virtues of good behaviour and a scathing attack on the character of the miscreant.

The announcement took place just before the lunch break to give everyone the time to think about the punishment before it took place at five o'clock. The headmaster favoured the strap as the avenging instrument and allowed no teacher but himself to wield it.

The headmaster's voice interrupted Toby's musings. 'Now, I come to the most distressing part of my remarks. Once more I find myself in the unfortunate position of having to punish an unruly boy. And once more that boy is Toby Matthews. Come to the front of the class, Matthews.'

Toby shuffled from his seat and embarrassingly made his way to the teacher's desk where he stood facing his classmates. He always thought that this was one of the worst parts of the punishment. He could feel his face redden as he heard the stern voice outline his misdeeds.

'As we all know, Matthews is a persistent offender. I don't think there is a school rule he hasn't broken. It has been my painful duty, on far too many occasions, to punish him. His present crime is forging a note from his father saying that he had had to pay an emergency visit to the dentist when in fact he was playing truant. Why he should do such a stupid thing, when he must have known that as I know him so well I was bound to check with his father, I cannot fathom. So once more he must pay the price. Matthews, you will report to my study at five o'clock and you will be soundly beaten. You will receive twelve strokes of the strap. That is all. The class is now dismissed. You will carry on with your normal activities after lunch.'

As Toby left the room with the other jostling boys he at least had the consolation of being able to attend his swimming session. The old goat hasn't stopped that, he thought to himself. Sometimes the headmaster would prevent a pupil from attending a leisure or sporting activity during the afternoon as an additional punishment. Then the boy concerned would either be allotted extra prep or made to perform some task such as helping the groundsman, or scrubbing out a classroom.

As they made their way to the dining room his friends chaffed Toby. 'Bet you don't feel like much lunch, Toby.' Toby grinned and punched a couple of them playfully on the arm. It would take more than the thought of the strap to put him off his food, especially as he ate like a horse anyway. But he did allow himself a momentary shudder as they passed the open door of the head's study and caught sight of the strap hanging on the wall in its usual prominent position.

After lunch Toby went to the changing room. He had lingered so that the other boys would have changed before him. He wanted to be alone for a few minutes. Toby arrived just as the last boy was leaving and he stood alone in the changing room. Toby pulled off his clothes and stood naked. He was proud of his body and preened himself in front of a full length mirror. He knew he was good-looking, physically fit and easily the strongest boy in the class. His body was tanned all over, he had fine limbs and a deep chest.

As he slowly turned himself in front of the mirror he thought how funny it was that the thought of the strap made his body harden and tense up. All his muscles tightened up as he wriggled and shivered with a delicious mixture of excitement and dread.

The first time he had been strapped it had just hurt and he had felt the pain and been miserable for hours afterwards. Now, after so many strappings, it was different. He took a pride in being able 'to take it' without a fuss. He could bear the pain of the fierce strap without flinching and he knew his stoicism upset the head.

So now, although he felt a little scared, at the same time there was this other feeling – one of almost looking forward to the punishment – of having the chance to prove his manliness. He was popular with the other boys and most of the teachers for his display of spirit and knew that he was admired as something of a hero, though a troublesome one.

When you actually got the strap, your bottom went hard, he thought. You couldn't help it, just at that moment. Ugh, that horrible, gorgeous moment, just before the strap descended for the first time, your bottom tensed into a hard round ball. And his nipples hardened as well. As he thought of that his hands found their way to his tight chest and he stroked himself. He felt his penis grow but stopped himself from touching it. He was an experienced masturbator but refrained from doing it as he feared getting caught. He had taken so long changing he thought one of the masters might come looking for him.

Quickly, he pulled on his trunks and went out to the pool. That was where he really felt at home and his own master. Nobody could touch him, even the instructor acknowledged his superiority in the water. He swam, dived and showed off. At the end of the session he felt very pleased with himself. As he towelled himself his body tingled and then the thought of his forthcoming punishment intruded on his thoughts and his body began to tense up.

As he dressed the other boys shot him sympathetic glances but none of them said anything. As he left the changing room one or two boys patted his shoulder as if to say good luck but he couldn't bear to acknowledge them. He hurried away to his destiny.

When he arrived at his destination, Toby knocked on the door of the study but there was no reply. The head wasn't there, but then, Toby thought, he never was. He thought this was deliberate as part of the punishment – the last few moments of trembling anticipation being designed as a kind of mental torture, no matter how experienced or tough the boy might be.

Toby did what he was supposed to do, opened the door and went in. The first thing that caught his eye was the dreaded strap hanging on the wall. As he looked at it he felt the tenseness enter his body once more and again experienced the tantalising feeling of his growing erection. He was about to touch himself when he realised that he was not the only occupant of the room.

On the other side of the desk stood a pretty, blonde girl of his own age. He recognised her as the headmaster's daughter, though he didn't know her very well. Though she lived on the school premises with her father, she attended a girl's school nearby and was rarely seen.

'Hello,' she said, 'you're Toby Matthews, aren't you? I've heard about you. My father says you're the naughtiest boy in the whole school. I suppose you're here to get the strap.'

Toby was embarrassed by her candid approach and could make no reply, merely shuffling his feet and looking down at the carpet. What was she doing here, he thought? He was mortified by her presence and became even more embarrassed when she began to chatter on again.

'I'm here to get the strap as well. Don't you think that's awful? But Daddy says that if I behave like a naughty boy, then I must be treated like one. I'm quite naughty, sometimes, and I've had the strap before, but not here like you boys get it. So he told me that this time I must go to his study, just like the boys. Are you the only one, today?'

Toby still couldn't bring himself to say anything but he nodded his head. I wish she'd stop talking, he thought. He wished the head would arrive, anything to relieve his humiliation at being alone with this girl, knowing that she knew what was going to happen to him. He didn't think at all of what was going to happen to her.

'Why don't you say something,' she went on. 'Daddy says I'm just as brave as the boys. I always try not to cry now. Doesn't it feel super afterwards, when you've been really brave? But isn't it awful waiting for it?'

I wish she'd shut up, thought Toby, but he nodded at her again. He found he was feeling a little more at ease now, and quite attracted to her, despite her endless chatter. He hadn't much of a good opinion about girls, in spite of his sexual fantasies. Girls were soft, weak creatures, not worthy of comparison with a boy, but this girl was beginning to have a strange effect on him. For one thing she was brave and for another he was becoming aware of how lovely she was.

Her long blonde hair came to her shoulders, her eyes were bright and she had a pert smile. As he looked at her more closely he noticed the bulge of her young breasts beneath the coarse, thick material of her green gym slip. The hem ended a few inches above her knees revealing a fair expanse of bare, round thigh. Her white socks were knee-length and fitted closely to her firm, round calves. She really was a picture, he thought, an idea that had never entered his head before.

Then the reason for her presence really struck him for the first time. She's going to get the strap as well! The thought filled him with horror at first, and then, as it sunk in he felt strangely excited. He still hadn't uttered a word and was just about to do so when the door opened and the headmaster strode in.

Without any preliminaries, he snatched the strap from the wall and swished it through the air. 'Come on, boy, you know what to do. Get ready! Trousers down across the desk! Anybody would think this was your first time.' The head's voice was harsh as he indicated the desk with the strap.

Toby was horrified. He hadn't thought about that part of it. Having to take his trousers down was normal procedure, but now, in front of the head's daughter. He hesitated and fumbled with his belt, not knowing what he could do to avoid this catastrophe. The head's voice blasted his ears. 'Get them off. I haven't got all day.' Then he realised what had caused Toby's reluctance. 'Never mind Julie,' he said. 'She's in as much trouble as you are and when I've finished with you it'll be her turn. You'll both be treated the same.'

Slowly, Toby obeyed the head's command. As his trousers and pants slid down his legs, he shuffled over to the desk, desperately trying to cover his crotch, and lay across its hard edge. Julie stood in the corner, her face ashen, as she watched Toby's humiliation.

Toby buried his hot red face in his hands as he tensed himself for the strap. It seemed an eternity before he heard the whistle of the leather through the air before it landed with a loud smack across his naked bottom. He heard a loud gasp and looked up. He saw Julie's white face, her clenched knuckles at her mouth. He lowered his head again as he heard the strap's descent through the air. The second stroke snaked round his buttocks forcing him to bite his lips to stop from crying out.

There was a haze before his eyes as he waited for the third blow. It's never been as bad as this, he thought as the strap cut him once more. It's that damn girl! At that moment he began to hate her.

Stiffening his courage, he clenched his fists, bit his lip and tensed his body as the next three strokes thudded down in quick succession. Then there was a short respite as the head took a breather. Toby could hear his breathing heavily with his exertions behind him. I won't give in, his brain told him, I won't cry out in front of her. His feelings towards Julie were confused. He seemed to blame her for his predicament, yet he wanted her to admire him for his bravery. If only it were all over but it's only half way.

The head was ready to start again and he was quickly into his stride. One, two, three, the next strokes whistled down, right on target, across the centre of the boy's buttocks. Toby was almost delirious, and then mercifully it was all over. The strap cracked down for the last time though Toby was unaware of it until he heard the voice behind him telling him to get up.

The intense pain in his buttocks made it difficult for him to walk and pull up his trousers. A sigh escaped his lips as his pants touched his burning bottom. Toby started to walk to the door automatically but the head pulled him up short. 'Go and stand over there,' he said. Then he addressed his daughter. 'Julie, get in position. Lift your skirt and pull your knickers down. I told you you would be treated just the same as the boys and I meant it. It is normal procedure for culprits to be punished in each other's presence, so, as you have witnessed his punishment, so will he witness yours. I know I am being harsh on you, but I am also being fair. Everyone is treated equally. Let this be a lesson to you, one that you will not wish to repeat.'

The girl slowly walked to the desk, at last realising the full import of her situation. Now she knew that it was no longer a lark, a silly escapade, rather daring, as her remarks to Toby had implied. The strap was about to descend on her bare bottom, just as it had on Toby's. The expression on her face was a lot different than it had been a few minutes earlier.

Toby felt pity and tenderness towards her as she leant over the desk, hitching up her skirt and slowly pulling her knickers down to her knees. With a mixture of horror and fascination he watched the head take up his position behind the girl. Her chubby buttocks twitched as she leant forward, her legs stretched straight out behind her.

God, she has had it before, thought Toby, as he watched her make herself comfortable. Then before his startled eyes the first stroke cracked down. The bare buttocks shuddered as the leather cut across them and a sharp cry escaped Julie's lips. Toby wondered how many strokes she would get as the strap made contact for the second time. This time Julie gave out only a low grunt. She was trying very hard to take her medicine without squealing and Toby was praying for her to achieve this aim. His feelings for the girl were becoming affectionate and he forgot the pain in his own throbbing bottom as he stared at hers. Two parallel red lines bisected her buttocks and after the third stroke the rest of her white flesh became flushed.

By the time she had taken three more strokes, with barely more than a gasp coming from her with each one, the whole of Julie's bottom was a flaming red. Then it was all over. For whatever reason she was only going to suffer six strokes.

At the head's command, Julie stood up, her eyes red and watery. Desperately, she was trying to hold back the flood of tears that was eager to burst forth. Toby was so proud of her that he was overwhelmed; that he was, in fact, in love with her.

'You can go now, Matthews, and I hope for your sake that your father doesn't repeat the dose. He knows exactly what has happened to you. I also hope that this time will be the last time you pay a visit to me for this purpose.'

Toby avoided Julie's eyes as he left the room. He had been embarrassed enough watching her pull up her knickers and adjust the rest of her clothing, especially as he had caught a glimpse of her fuzzy pubic hair.

As he walked along the corridor he became very conscious of his bulging erection and realised that he must have had it all along. He hoped that Julie hadn't noticed but the thought that she might have done increased the pressure in his trousers.

The school was deserted as he went back to his classroom to fetch a couple of books and his swimming gear. He took his time, reluctant to go home to face his father, wondering what to do and how long he could hang things out for. He also wondered where Julie was, what she was doing and whether he would see her again soon.

He hung about for a while trying not to think of the burning sensation in his buttocks which was disturbing him. It wasn't that unpleasant and definitely different from the feelings he'd had on previous occasions. Gingerly he rubbed himself. The burning increased but there was also an exciting tingling sensation. He touched his erection with his other hand wanting to masturbate. However, he resisted the temptation, preferring to keep it for later when he could lie naked in bed in cool sheets. The mere idea of this increased his desire, but being quite strong-willed, he overcame his urges, picked up his things and marched resolutely from the school.

His way home led him across the playing field and past a row of trees to the back gate. At that time the area was deserted and Toby enjoyed being alone. Then just before he reached the gate he was startled to hear a voice calling him. A soft female voice came from some bushes. 'Toby, come here. It's Julie, I'm over here.'

As he looked she appeared, beckoning him towards the bushes. He was pleased to see her. 'What are you doing here?' he asked. 'I knew you would come this way and I thought we could do with a bit of mutual commiseration,' she replied.

Her manner was once more that of the girl he had first seen and it was somewhat disconcerting. He also felt embarrassed that she could bring up the subject of their recent ordeal so casually. Once more she had made him tongue-tied.

Julie took his hand and pulled him into the bushes. She smiled as she spoke again. 'Does it still hurt? Mine does but I've also got this funny tingling sensation that's quite nice. Do you?'

Her naive tone belied the twinkle in her eyes. Toby nodded, still not knowing what to say. He was also aware that he still had his erection and that it was sticking straight out at Julie.

'Would you like to see what my bottom looks like?' she said. 'I'll let you if I can see yours. Then maybe we can stroke each other better. I've got some cold cream that might help.'

Toby was more alarmed than eager at her suggestion and felt himself go hot and cold. 'Don't you like the idea?' she persisted. 'Well, I suppose so,' Toby muttered.

'You were very brave, Toby. I think you deserve a reward.' As she spoke, one tiny hand grasped his erection. 'I know what you've got there, I saw it in my father's study. Why don't you kiss me, then we can soothe each other's wounds. I'm sure we can have some lovely times together, especially if we get the strap again.'

1 comment:

  1. My word what a story. Now why did I never meet a girl like that?