THE PUNISHMENT SCHOOL

By Erik

A story about a Punishment room at a boys school

"No... No," he moaned aloud, to no one in particular, because he
knew that the punishment master would take no heed of his
protests. "Please, no," he said, louder, this time addressed to
the punishment master. Part of his fear was his total
vulnerability. He knew that there would be no escaping the severe
strapping that he had been sentenced to for the week's misdeeds
at the private boys' school. He was totally naked, bent over a
heavy punishment structure, and bound securely in place. His
wrists were cuffed to the front legs of the structure. There was
a wide leather strap around his waist, completely restricting
movement of the upper body. His ankles were cuffed to the rear
legs of the structure. And, of course, he was acutely aware that
his bare bottom was exactly where the punishment master wanted
it. He was also aware that he was going to endure a severe
strapping, whether he wanted to or not, and that there was
nothing that he could do to interfere.

He had never been punished before at the private boys' school for
troubled boys. Punishment was not meted out on a whim. However,
he had accumulated several demerits during the week for rule
violations. He cursed his own hubris, his overconfidence that he
could get away with breaking multiple rules without consequence.
Hell, he told himself, that's why I'm at this place to begin with
- I thought that I could get away with breaking the rules. What
is it about me, he pondered, that ensures that I get caught every
time?

The punishment master was a strong blonde man about six feet
nine, with bangs and a ponytail. His white shirt and black
leather pants were complemented by black knee high boots. He had
large blue eyes and a pleasant, although dispassionate,
expression on his face when the inmate was led into the
punishment room. The punishment master does not determine the
severity of the punishment to be meted out to the recipients of
his attentions. The severity, and, often, the instrument of
punishment, are decided only by the administrator of the school.

He had been led to the room with his hands cuffed behind him and
wearing ankle chains. He was forcibly bent over the punishment
structure, the waist strap secured, and the ankle chains removed.
Then the two men who brought him into the punishment room
stripped him of his clothes from the waist down and cuffed his
ankles to the rear legs of the structure. His handcuffs were then
removed and his shirt stripped off. Finally, his wrists were
cuffed to the structure. He heard someone else enter the room.
Then he saw the administrator of the school stand in front of
him. "Master Dean, he is to get a severe strapping. Give him
sixty four strokes of the wood-handled strap. Witnesses, are you
ready?"

"Yes, Mister Austin," answered the two men who had brought him to
the room.

"Master Dean, are you ready?"

"Yes, Mister Austin," the punishment master answered after he
retrieved the strap from its repository.

"You may begin," he stated.

Dean extended his arm and determined the correct distance and
position, and, with his eye on the target, drew his hand far back
and imparted a hard stroke of leather to the young man's bottom.
He flinched as his ass cheeks jiggled from the force of the swat.
A scant three or four seconds later, the next stroke landed.
Dean, keeping his feet in place, swiveled his hips as he
completed the stroke with a tennis player's follow-through. The
young man sharply drew in his breath. A short instant later the
three-inch-wide strap planted another reddened stripe on his
quivering bottom. By the tenth stroke, he was groaning with each
swat. Dean stopped for a moment to let the strapping thus far
have an effect.

"Andy," said Dean to one of the men who had brought the boy in,
"I'd like you to give him the next thirty strokes. Remember to
follow-through."

The tall Andy, his eyes brightening, responded, "I'll be happy
to". Andy's long black hair gave him an air of authority. He took
the wood-handled strap from Dean, and took his place to one side
of the miscreant. Andy was in training as a Strapmaster, and had
applied the strap on a limited basis in a few previous sessions.
There was no doubt of Andy's ambition to be an accomplished
Strapmaster. The strength of his swats was testimony to his
dedication and practice. The young boy was visibly flinching with
each stroke. Following Dean's example, Andy paused for a moment
after administering ten swats. When he resumed, the boy recipient
was giving a staccato exclamation upon each stroke of the strap.
When Andy applied the third set of ten strokes, his enthusiasm
was such that the boy gave a vociferous shout each time the
leather hit its target. Andy handed the strap back to Dean.

Dean positioned himself directly behind his charge, smiled at
Andy as if to say "watch how I do this" and applied the remaining
twenty-four strokes in an alternating forehand-backhand fashion
without stopping. This kind of application of the strap is
especially painful because it is applied on the more tender skin
on the outer sides of the buttocks. His ponytail swishing back
and forth, Dean applied the leather with all his strength. The
young man's nether globes were in a constant state of jiggling
and quivering, and his howls were testimony to his effectiveness.
Dean though to himself that he would like to give his boyfriend a
strapping like this - tied down so he couldn't move. The thought
aroused him.

"Thank you, Master Dean," the school administrator said. "You may
be excused if you wish. Please be back here in fifteen minutes to
be briefed on the next punishment." Then, addressing the young
boy, he continued, "You will remain where you are for ten
minutes. Then you will be led back to your room."

When the requisite time had elapsed, the men who brought him to
the punishment room, Mike and Andy, prepared to return him to his
room. Andy unfastened his ankles from the punishment box and
placed ankle cuffs on him. Mike then released his wrists from the
front legs of the punishment box and cuffed them behind his back.
Finally, the waist cinch was released.

He desperately wanted to rub his bottom to mitigate the
still-fresh pain from the leathering, and would be unable to do
that as long as his hands were cuffed. He wasn't allowed to get
dressed. Instead he was led, naked but for the ankle chains and
handcuffs, back to his room. Mike carried his clothes and Andy
led him to his room, which was really more like a cell. The first
thing he did when the restraints were removed was run his hands
across his buttocks, and then he positioned himself face-down on
his bed.

Mike and Andy, who were themselves in training for positions as
punishment masters, and Dean gathered in the punishment room to
be briefed by Mister Austin on the next recipient of discipline.
"We have a repeat offender here," Mr. Austin stated. "You all may
recognize him. He is in room 115. He's the boy who has been here
for being disorderly. He got a paddling the first time, and got
the strap a week later. As if that wasn't enough, you gave him
twenty four strokes of the cane just two weeks after that. This
time he apparently started a food fight and attempted to wrongly
implicate others. This pattern of repetition merits a very severe
session today. Master Dean, I suggest that you use the cane,
forty eight strokes. And they are to be augmented."

"Will do, Mister Austin," responded Dean.

"Mike and Andy, please escort the next miscreant here."

They left to fetch the young teen in the same manner as they had
done with the previous one. Dean prepared a salt water solution
in a spray bottle for augmentation. When a punishment is
augmented, a salt-water solution is sprayed on the recipient's
bottom after every six strokes. This has the effect of greatly
intensifying the pain. Augmentation is used only with repeat
offenders displaying an unwillingness to heed the lessons of
previous discipline. Also, when the maximum number of strokes for
the cane, forty-eight, is to be administered, each set of six is
placed at a slightly different angle, so that after the first
set, every stroke will intersect with a previous stroke. There is
no limit to the number of strokes permitted with the other
instruments of correction.

Dean selected a thin, flexible cane for the next session. The
door opened with Mike and Andy with the repeat offender in tow.
As they were busy securing the cute young teen to the punishment
box, Dean reflected on his duties at the institution. He was the
first, and is currently the only, person with the title of
Punishment Master. A punishment master must be knowledgeable and
proficient with paddles, straps, canes, and switches. The
training is long and arduous. A trainee is mentored by Dean, and
must practice his art daily on a pillow before he is permitted to
apply an instrument of correction to an student. A trainee's
first experience at live administration of discipline is with
various paddles. They are taught positioning and timing, as well
as strength of the swats. If they still want to proceed after
demonstrating proficiency with the paddle, the next instrument is
the leather strap. When a high level of proficiency is
demonstrated with the strap, the trainee as awarded the title of
Strapmaster. Next comes training with the cane. Several trainees
have not progressed to the title of Canemaster because of its
requirement for absolute accuracy and control. If a Canemaster
can demonstrate proficiency with using switches, he is a
Punishment Master. Andy is currently a Strapmaster trainee.
Mister Austin addressed the bound boy. "I can't believe that you
like being disciplined, yet you keep doing things that bring you
back here. We're going to see if today's session will have a more
lasting effect on you. I have directed the punishment master to
give you four dozen strokes of the cane. I have also directed
that they be augmented. That means that a salt water spray will
be frequently applied to your naughty little bottom during the
caning. They tell me that it really hurts." Turning to his staff,
Mister Austin said, "Andy, I'd like you to apply the salt water.
Mike, are you ready to be the witness?"

"Yes Mister Austin," replied Mike as he took his place as an
observer. Andy was ready with the spray bottle. "Are you ready,
Master Dean?"

"I am ready, Mister Austin."

"Good. Please begin."

The bound boy felt the punishment master lightly tap the thin
rattan cane across the center of his exposed buttocks as he
prepared to start. A scant few seconds later he heard the
swishing sound of the cane whipping through the air. As soon as
he became aware of that sound he felt an intense flash of pain
across his buttocks. He sharply drew in his breath. The pain
actually seemed to intensify for a couple of seconds before
settling in at a constant level. The cane hurt considerably more
than he imagined as this secondary reaction took hold. A few
seconds elapsed and he heard the beginning of the dreaded
swishing sound again, followed immediately by a new stripe of
blinding pain. "OH!" The sound escaped involuntarily from his
clenched teeth.

Master Dean looked with satisfaction on the white weal which he
expertly placed almost immediately next to the first one. As soon
as the white weal began to turn red, he pressed his lips
together, and, with his eye on the young boy's buttocks, brought
the slender rattan cane far back and whipped it forward, making
contact about a quarter inch away from the previous stroke.
"OHHH!" he heard the young teen exclaim. He had heard a similar
litany of pain many, many times before, and he would hear it many
times again. He knew that he would never tire of hearing it. Each
one was a little different, but they all had the common thread of
forced submission. He liked it best when they become aware of the
inevitability of the punishment, and their absolute
vulnerability. Parting his lips slightly, he drew back the cane
and placed another white-hot weal on the bared buttocks of his
charge. "Four," he counted to himself, feeling the slightest
beginnings of arousal deep inside his body.

Dean smiled slightly as he observed the young boy valiantly
attempting to refrain from vocalizing his predicament. As he
looked at the ever-widening pattern of striations on the young
teen's bared bottom, he took careful aim and whipped another
stroke immediately adjacent to the previous one. The whitened
weal stood out in contrast to the other reddened lines.

"Gmmmfff!"

They always try to take it without vocalizing, Dean thought to
himself. Before it's over, he'll be telling me that he can't take
any more. They all tell me that. But I take them past that point,
he proudly asserted to himself.

The latest stripe just started to redden, and Dean drew back his
arm to plant another stripe. He felt a deepening of the earlier
arousal as the cane made its journey to the young boy's bottom.
"Owwwowww!" He shook his head wildly, unable to shake off the
pain. As the pain began to intensify he thought to himself, how
am I going to be able to take forty eight of these strokes? Dean
stepped back as Andy moved in and applied several sprays of salt
water to the young boy's bottom. The effect was almost
instantaneous. He felt as though each ass cheek was an
incandescent light that had just been switched on. "Ohhhhhhhhh!
Ahhhhhhhhh! Owwwww!" he exclaimed.

Dean stepped up to take his position. He spread his feet, placed
his free hand akimbo on his hip, and bent his knees in order to
get the exact angle that he was seeking. The intent was that the
next set of six strokes would intersect the previous set.
Whippppp! he placed a stroke so that it cut diagonally across
three or four of the previous strokes.

"AHHH! NO!"

Whipppp! Another stripe diagonally across previous strokes.

"Gmlflmmmmmmmf!"

Whippppp! Each successive cane stroke was applied diagonally to
the previous ones.

"Owwwwww!"

Three more strokes were laid on in quick succession.

Andy applied the salt-water spray again.

"Oh! Ohh! OHHHH! Owwww! Oh-that-hurts!"

Dean applied two more sets of six strokes in this manner, with
the young boy's reaction becoming more strident all along. It's
at this point, usually, that the punishment recipients believe
that they can not take any more, and plead ever so fervently.
During the last half of the caning, the recipient performed the
expected litany of begging, pleading, and promising. Moreover,
each set of stripes that Dean applied found him getting more
aroused. He suspected the same with Andy, who cheerfully applied
the salt water spray after every set of six strokes.

The whipping had not taken five minutes. He stepped back now,
placed the whippy cane in its place, and wiped some beads of
sweat from his forehead.

Now I'm so wet, Dean acknowledged. Why does this turn me on so
much?

"Very well done, Master Dean. You too, Andy. Master Dean, you may
be excused if you wish. Andy and Mike will wait here and lead
this miscreant back to his room after ten minutes. An hour later
found the discipline administrators in another room which is not
frequently used except for very special punishment occasions.
Mike and Andy had bound a young teen male to be disciplined
face-down on a padded table. The table was similar to a massage
table, except that it was significantly sturdier, and not as
high. Additionally, there was a circular opening in the center of
the table which was a few inches wide. The purpose of this
opening was to allow access to the male's sexual organs.
The boy's wrists, ankles, and waist were securely bound to the
table. Mister Austin surveyed the scene before he had determined
that the session was ready to begin.

"Please proceed with the session," instructed Mister Austin.
Andy retrieved a device which was approximately the size of a
small end table, unfastened the covers, and positioned it under
the table upon which the boy was bound. Making the necessary
adjustments, Andy affixed a tube-shaped attachment to the device,
and positioned the attachment so that the other end of the tube
extended up to the opening in the table. He made sure that the
tube was around the boy's penis. His penis fit quite loosely in
the tube at the moment. Much of the device was constructed of
transparent material so that the results of the milking could be
determined.

Andy picked up a box about the size of a paperback novel. The box
had switches and knobs on it, and was the wireless control center
for the milking device. He pressed a button and the machine made
a whirring sound. A moment later the tube closed around the boy's
penis. He felt a well-lubricated sheath enclose his organ, and
became instantly erect. Andy turned a knob and the machine slowly
stroked the teen's member. He was wondering what this was all
about, since he was feeling pleasure at the time, and this was
supposed to be punishment. Andy increased the rate and the
machine responded. "Ohhhhhhhhhh..." groaned the captive boy, his
face turning red. A moment later, he exclaimed "Aauughhhhhhhhhhh!
Arghhh! Arrrgh!" as he spurted into the receptacle. The machine
kept stroking. "Ohh! Arrgh! Ahhhh!" he exclaimed with a rising
level of discomfort as the machine continued to stroke his very
sensitive member. When Andy was satisfied that the machine had
milked him dry, he decreased the speed to the initial "idling",
during which the machine was still stroking. For ten minutes the
men made small talk among themselves. When a timer signified the
end of ten minutes, Andy set the stroking speed a little higher
than he had on the first run. After three full minutes of
stroking, the boy groaned and spurted into the machine's
receptacle. Andy, of course, left the machine running while the
captive teen vocalized his discomfort at the continued assault.
After several minutes, Dean spoke to him. "You're going to have
to do better than that. If you're not going to cum I think I
should spice things up with a switch to give you some
motivation." He slowly and deliberately walked across the room
and picked up a willow switch that had been soaking in water.
Whisking the water droplets off the switch, Dean made his way to
the hapless bound male and prepared to start the switching.

"Why aren't you cumming?" he queried.

"I did twice already!" the boy offered.

"You're being milked," Dean retorted. "You're supposed to cum
some more. Are you about to cum right now?"

"I can't!" exclaimed the boy. Meanwhile the machine was still
stroking his shaft.

Dean briskly applied the switch to his bare bottom, at the same
time admonishing him. "You really should cum. (switch! switch!)
You really want to cum, don't you? (switch! switch!) I don't
understand why you are reluctant to cum some more." (switch!
switch! switch!) Dean continued in this manner for a while until
his bare bottom was well switched.

The boy being punished struggled with the pain. "Aaargh!
OW-OW-OW! Please no more! Yes, I want to! I want to cummm! Ow!
Ow! Please, I can't! Please stop! Please stop!"

Andy played with varying the speed and intensity of the stroking,
increasing and decreasing the tempo like a roller-coaster. After
a few moments the young teen, with a vocal exclamation,
ejaculated a few dribbling spurts into the receptacle. After he
ejaculated, the intensity of his sensitivity to the constant
stroking of the machine became especially excruciating.
Gritting his teeth with a pained expression, he exclaimed,
"Aaaaahhhhh! No! Please stop the machine! So sensitive!
Ahhhhhhhh-ahhhhhh-ahhhhh!"

Andy, leaving the machine running, peered into the receptacle and
scolded, "That wasn't a very big load. I think it's time to
escalate things here." He retrieved a specially designed anal
probe. This probe had several metallic bands around it, although
it was pliable and not rigid. There was a connector for a cable
at the outside end of it. Andy hooked a cable to it and attached
the other end of the cable to a fitting on the milking machine.
Then he generously lubricated the probe with olive oil and
inserted it into the captive boy's anus.

"Uhh-uhhhhh-uhhhhh!" he groaned as Andy pushed it in.

Andy then picked up the control box, turned a knob, and watched
for a reaction. The probe, as a result, was expanding and
contracting in a pulsating fashion. As it did this, it would
press against the boy's prostate, stimulating it. Andy observed
the boy's facial expressions as he varied the speed of the
pulsing, looking for the tempo providing the most stimulation.
When he found the right setting, he left it as it was and waited.
A few more minutes, and the boy again dribbled some semen into
the receptacle.

"Arrgh! Arrrrgh! Aaaaaaarghhhh! Oh, no! I can't stand this.
Please stop! Please stop! Aaaaaahhhhhhhh!"

Andy waited a few minutes before stopping the pulsating of the
anal probe. He did, however, leave the milking machine stroking
his member. Looking into the receptacle, he expressed mock
disdain. "Just a dribble this time. I thought I could get more
from you. Oh well, I'll just have to employ other means. Maybe
Master Dean should give you another switching."

"No, not the switch! Please, I'll do anything!"

"Anything? All I'm asking for is a nice big load of cum."

"I try! Really! I just can't! Please! I'm completely drained!"

"Then you'll have to take the consequences," teased Andy with a
coy smile. He seated himself, calmly crossed his legs and picked
up the control box. He started the anal probe pulsing again, and
adjusted the speed as before. Then he pressed a small red button
on the box. This caused an instantaneous pulse of electricity to
course from the male's prostate to his sphincter. To him, it felt
like a hot pin-prick to his sphincter, and similarly inside him
where his prostate was.

"Oh! Ohh!" he cried. Andy pressed the button again. "Ow! Ahh!"
Then he continued to press the red button at random intervals
every few seconds. When Andy sensed that he was nearing another
ejaculation, he rapidly pressed the button a couple of times per
second until the boy violently shook his head back and forth with
gritted teeth.

"Yaaaaaah! Oh, the pain! That hurts! Aaaaargh!" he yelled as a
rather empty ejaculation wracked his body. "Mercy, please! I
can't! Oh have mercy!"

After a few more minutes of the machine's stroking, Andy finally
turned it off. The bound boy was now drenched in sweat, groaning
and panting. With a smile, and very aroused, Dean walked out of
the room and went to his office. When he came back, Mike and Andy
had removed the milking machine from the boy's dick. They had
removed the boy from the first table and tied him down to a
medical exam type table. The boy's legs were secured to metal
stirrups and spread far apart. While Mike was using an electric
hair trimmer to shave off the few hairs the boy had, Andy was
placing a ball gag into the boys mouth.

Dean had a three-quart enema bag filled with hot salt-water. On
the end of the hose leading from the bag was a special five-inch
long butt plug. The hole in the plug will let fluids exit out the
hole at the tip, but no fluids can go back into it. Dean had
already pre-lubed the plug, so he crammed all five inches up into
the boy's ass.

The boy screamed into his gag.

Dean let go of the clamp and let the water flow. Soon the boys
belly looked like he was seven months pregnant. The boy pushed
down with his bowel muscles to try and expel the fluids, but
because of the plug, nothing could exit his ass. They left the
plug in the boy for half an hour. Every five minuets Mike would
rub the boy's belly to get the fluids inside to slosh around and
clean the insides of the boy. Then Andy yanked the butt plug out
with a rather loud POP/SLURP sound, and the it was like a
waterfall of fluids and other items gushing out of the boy's ass.
As the fluids fought there way out of the boy's ass, Dean filled
the bag once again, and once again filled the whimpering boy up.
Once the boy expelled all the fluid from his body after the
second enema, he was all worn out.

As Andy and Mike used warm water and soap to wash the boy from
head to toe, Master Dean went back to his office for the tools he
would need for the last part of this boy's punishment.
When Dean got back to the boy on the exam table he had a 24K
plated Burdizzo clamp in his hand.

Andy took a hold of the boy's balls and pulled them downwards as
hard as he could. Mike then felt around and then pulled the left
cord outwards. Dean got the clamp in position and then clamped
down hard onto the boy's nut cord.

Again the boy screamed bloody murder for the 30 seconds of the
clamp crushing down on his cord. For the other testicle, Mike
pulled downwards on the boys doomed balls, and Andy felt around
for the cord and then pulled it outwards. Dean clamped down hard
onto the right cord and watched the boys face turn redder than a
stop sign as he screamed in pain.

The boy was dragged to a special cell and made to drink a glass
of juice that had been spiked with a sleep drug.

The next day Dean checked the boy's balls, and felt the coldness
of them. He knew the boy was now a eunuch and Dean was sure he
would not see this boy any more in the punishment room.

The End




  
The Punishment School